Switch leap: a leap that launches the dancer up and forward into a split, in which the extended legs switch places in mid-leap

"You really shouldn't beat yourself up too much, brother. It's only day one of practicing turning switchleaps, it's ok if you don't get it right away!"

"But Al, you should have seen the way Mustang was looking at me, almost as if he were making fun of my failure!" Ed whined, slumping against his locker dramatically.

"Brother…" Al began, hiding back peals of laughter "He was laughing because you managed to switchleap yourself into the wall and knock down Ms. Curtis' framed Juilliard degree. The look of absolute horror on your face as you scrambled to pick it up and hang it on the wall was freakin' hilarious." He turned towards the wall of lockers, gently swung open his own, and placed the lock on the bench behind them.

"Hey! Listen, I saw my life flash before my fuckin' eyes, you don't understand!" Ed exclaimed, an angry flush sitting atop his youthful cheeks. "If I had broken the glass on that frame or done anything to desecrate that fuckin' diploma I would've been dead faster than you could say "jete". You know how Mrs. Curtis feels about her precious Juilliard degree." Ed stared into the depths of his open locker as hypothetical violent situations, all featuring Mrs. Curtis and a bloody pointe shoe, flashed through his mind's eye.

Al sighed, shrugging his damp white t-shirt over his shoulders and into a bag. Out of the two brothers he was certainly the most mindful when it came to their dance clothes. Al preferred to dry them between classes while Ed just stuffed them into a crumpled pile in his locker. He continued to change in silence while Ed muttered something about a cursed petite aerodynamic body as he angrily shoved his right leg into his pants.

Al sat on the bench tying his shoes as he looked up at his visibly steaming older brother. By now, Al was used to Ed's rage episodes. They all start the same, with some silent steaming and quiet, muttered creative insults into the eventual detonation and subsequent yelling of said creative insults. Al thanks his lucky stars that Ed doesn't know a second language, because holy sugar shacks, his fits of rage would be on an entirely different level of angst and honestly, he doesn't want to deal with that.

"AL! Are you even listening to me?!" Ed's voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Al blinks a few times, clearing the haze from his eyes and looks up at Ed who's breathing heavily with his shirt halfway on his body. Al breaks into a fit of giggles, and Ed looks at him both confused and seemingly offended at his younger brother's laughter.

It takes a second before Ed breaks, joining Al's joyous laughter with his own soft chuckles. After a couple minutes, both boys are able to catch their breath. Al looks down at his watch, and yelps realizing that they had two minutes to get to their chemistry class on the other side of campus. He slams his locker shut and grabs Ed's wrist, pulling him away from the endless rows of blue lockers towards the exit.

...

"I still don't get it!"

Al looks over from his classwork, slightly annoyed at his brother. He was supposed to be helping with their current lab work, but for the past fifteen minutes Ed had been pouting and whining about the Vice Principal and Artistic Directors' quick appearance in their morning ballet class.

"Of all classes and of all days, WHY TODAY?" Ed whined, looking over at Al for validation. He pauses for dramatic effect before continuing, nestling his cheek further into his left hand and bracing his left elbow on the table. "They couldn't have come into modern or tap/jazz? I would have settled for a solid tap/jazz class for sure. But ballet? Really? I swear Mustang's out to get me." He looked down at his worksheet for a second before pushing it away and throwing his whole upper half onto the tabletop.

"Lighten up brother, no one is out to get you, and you did great given the circumstances. Besides-" Al was interrupted by a loud crash and flailing arms as Ed's chair was suddenly swept out from under him. He looked up just in time to meet with a pair of large blue eyes, their depths sparkling with mirth and mischief.

"Winry!" Al exclaimed, grateful for her interruption. "Took you long enough to get here! I hope you got a late pass!" Winry laughs at the younger boy's statement before taking her late pass out of her pocket and shooting Al a wink.

"Nah, I've decided to face the wrath of the administration. I need a little pick-me-up, you know?" She says jokingly before heading over to the teacher's desk to hand over her pass.

As soon as she walks away, Ed pops back up from under the desk. He grumbles his way back into his seat, irritation oozing from every pore. Al chuckled to himself as he watched Ed quickly fix himself once he saw Winry was headed back for their table, paying extra attention to his favorite strand of hair.

—

"So Winry, what's going on in the visual arts department? I feel like we haven't heard from you in forever." Ed leans back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, right ankle placed over his left knee.

Ed won't say it out loud, but Winry makes him…nervous. He doesn't know when it started, but whenever he's around her, his palms get clammy, his mouth goes dry and he forgets how to string together coherent sentences. There's no explanation for what he's feeling, and honestly he's not sure what to call it. But if there is one thing he knows for certain, it's that his leg is shaking up a storm.

He tries to cover up the shaking by shifting his leg to cross under himself, but in doing so, he knocks his binder and everything in it onto the floor.

Nice going Elric he thought to himself, smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy. He quickly gets down to pick up his papers, ducking his head down to hide his flushed face. He gathers everything into a pile and turns around, only to lightly bump into something in front of him. He looks up and into sparkling cerulean eyes and he realizes he's been holding his breath. At this realization he releases his breath and quickly ducks his head the blood rushes to his face and ears.

He clutches his papers to his chest and sits back down in five seconds flat. He's still a little flushed, his heart is racing and his breathing is quick and shallow. He slowly raises his arm to his head and gently touches the spot where he collided with Winry, prodding at the tender spot. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and smiles softly, thinking about those beautiful azure orbs.

Gosh, what is she doing to me?

He's broken out of his thoughts by Al's soft throat clearing, and a toothy grin.

"You guys ok? Both of you look a little dazed...what happened down there?" Al asks, not even trying to hide the mischievous tone of his voice. Ed snaps out of his haze to glare at Al, and quickly glances over at Winry. He catches the tail end of what looks like a death glare to end all death glares before she snaps her head to look at him.

Their eyes widen as they meet, gold into blue, blue into gold, a light blush sprinkling across their cheeks. But just as quickly as their eyes met, they whip their heads away to the side, hiding their red faces.

Al, who is still sitting across from the pair and has been watching this whole ordeal, chuckles softly to himself. He tears his eyes away from the oblivious teenagers and looks down at his half-completed worksheet. He resumes his work, still wondering how long it'll take those two idiots to confess. He sighs, well I guess we'll have to wait and see.

AN: Heyooo how's it going? Having a little fun with some fma fan fic and I'm really excited to see where this will go! Thanks for reading! (◠‿◠✿)

Disclaimers: I do not own the FMA characters or plot, I'm just here to have a good time!

I will hope to update once every week or so (fingers crossed!) 3

live, laugh, love,

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