He thought he was doing pretty well, up until the point when Winry's foot kind of grazed the back of his leg, and his mind jumped from "leg" to "automail" to "Ling's advice at the reception."
It went downhill pretty quickly from there.
"What the hell, Ed," Winry growled, and not in the same way she had growled earlier in the evening.
"Oh fuck. It won't leave my head," Ed moaned, wishing he could shrivel up and disappear. …He had already done that, in a sense.
"What is so pressing that it has to be on your mind right now?"
Ed considered several possible answers. There was the option of blaming it on an inopportune stroke-of-genius theory, but now was not the time to get Winry riled up into one of her tirades on alchemy. He could use the excuse of a bad memory, maybe walking in on his parents, but he wasn't old enough to remember Al's conception and Winry would know. He briefly considered just telling her the truth, that he had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to be doing, and Ling had taken it upon himself to give Ed a wedding present that consisted of a lot of tips Ed did not want to know how Ling came by. But that was a long, painfully embarrassing story, and Winry had never looked more impatient in her life.
"For…for some reason, I…" he glanced furtively around the room in an effort not look Winry in the eyes, and spotted his salvation, "I looked at that picture on the dresser. Winry, I'm just…not comfortable with the idea of Granny watching us."
"Ed. That's not a picture frame. It's an alarm clock."
"Oh. Really? You know, I really couldn't tell in this dim light."
"Ed."
"Oh, Winry!" he wailed, rolling over onto his back. "I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me! We were having a such great time! The ceremony wasn't as long as I thought it would be, the reception hall had great wine, I got to make fun of that bastard Colonel because I got married before he did, and," Ed spoke his next few words with as much venom as he could muster, "then Ling showed up."
Winry propped herself up on her elbow. "Ling? What did Ling do? Well, besides crash the reception, but everyone thought we'd invited him anyway. Did he even bring a gift?"
"Yes," Ed fumed, hoping Winry wouldn't notice how red his face was turning, as the mental images flooded in. "Yes, he did. Believe me, I wish I could return it."
Winry sighed, flopping back down next to Ed. "Well, if that's…all for tonight, I guess I should try to sleep. 'Night." But Ed's arms snaked around her waist before she turn over.
"Winry, I really am sorry," he said softly. "I-I was scared as shit. I'm still scared as shit."
Winry snorted. "And you thought I wasn't?"
"Well, no! You seemed," Ed sniggered, lightly trailing a finger across her ribcage, "pretty confident to me."
"Says the guy who actually posed across the bed."
"Hey! That was sexy!"
"Oh yeah? Which magazine did you read that in?"
"I-you-didn't-" Ed sputtered. "You pounced on me! Like one of Al's cats attacking a string!"
"Hey, that was sexy," Winry laughed, resting her hand on his hip. Ed grinned and she shifted closer, settling against him.
"So, I guess our first time was a bust," he admitted sheepishly, closing his eyes.
"I'll say," Winry replied. But just as he was about to defend himself, she slid her hand deliberately further down. Ed's eyes widened as Winry positioned herself over him, smiling much like she had right before she had jumped on him, hours before. "But that doesn't we can't…try again."
As Winry's foot stroked down his leg, Ed had no doubt that this time, he could stay on task.
And maybe even test out one of Ling's tips; those magazines were full of shit.