Enmity by flirtyalphonse
It catches you off guard when Winry sits on your lap one evening, her bare legs on either side of your body effectively straddling your hips. It was something you've only dreamt about in the past when you couldn't fall asleep, when you were alone in your own bedroom trying your hardest to do away with those unseemly thoughts of your childhood best friend.
She's looking at you, saying something you don't care enough to hear, and the only reason you let your lips meet her's is because Edward is not around. Because you are sure if he were around, Winry wouldn't have her arms wrapped around your neck with her fingers running through your hair. Your resolve shatters and the guilt you felt previously is replaced by the sudden burst of desire in your chest.
You've been waiting for so long to skim your hands along her thighs, under her all too enticing miniskirt, and finally cup her rear. She arches her back because of your touch, not his or another man's, and an audible groan passes from her lips to yours. To think that she responds to your touch yet thinks of another hurts but your grip on her tightens and you pull her close, using your strength to lift her without breaking the kiss. It's only a thought; You aren't completely sure but it stings in your heart anyway.
It's dark in the bedroom. Your body is hot underneath your clothing and the cool air feels nice once you finish fumbling with your belt. It doesn't take long before your hands are on her body once again and you hook two fingers on the elastic band of her panties, yanking them down. Winry smells faintly of grease despite bathing after the workday. You can't imagine her smelling like anything but machine oil with the amount of time she spends on automail and you don't mind it at all.
You're too focused on caressing, on exploring her body like you've wanted to since you were a fourteen year old boy trapped in the suit of armor. You're too busy tasting the sweat, purposely trying to leave marks on her skin like how you've been imagining since the day you came home from Xing. Her nails dig into the skin of your back and all thoughts fly out the window as you buck your hips. All you can do is feel the euphoria build up. It clouds your judgment, hiding your enmity but you don't fucking care.
There is no declaration of love as you had fantasized about though you hadn't expected one in the first place considering the circumstances. Neither of you say anything. She holds you afterward, the two of you simply basking in the afterglow. You can feel her fingers trailing down your back as you place lazy, chaste kisses on her neck. A part of you berates yourself for getting into such a mess but you take solace in the fact that at least she loves you to some extent. She loves you. She wouldn't have pursued you otherwise.
You tell yourself that maybe she will learn to love you over time because your dear, older brother wasn't around. For the past twenty-some odd years, you didn't mind being overshadowed by the famed Fullmetal Alchemist. Of course Edward never saw it that way yet you can't help but feel that maybe this time you wouldn't be second best to the brother you so blindly adore.