disclaimer: i do not own fullmetal alchemist.


"Being locked in a room with Ed and Winry as they go through automail maintenance isn't quite like what Al thought it would be. - al-centric. edwin."


There's something about watching Winry fixing Ed's automail that feels distinctly voyeuristic.

At least, that's how Al feels. The room is small and cramped, but leaving would earn him a smack over the head with the barrel of Riza's gun because dammit, Al it's not safe for you to be outside. The room feels sort of like a jail cell; the windows are barred and the walls are concrete. It feels so strangely militaristic in an alien type of way. At Central, the dreary barriers are glorified and covered in tapestries and triumphant decor, meant to motivate and inspire. Here, the walls are barren and empty, an aura of gloom surrounding everything. Riza and a few other soldiers standing by the door do little to help with the atmosphere. Al can't help but feel trapped.

The glowing circles to replace Al's eyes maneuver into the direction of his brother and their childhood friend. If Al could smile, he would because the pair of them look so peaceful despite the chilling air of the mock prison cell.

Ed's eyes are closed, but his mouth isn't twisted into a scowl or a mocking smirk like usual. A small smile tugs at his lips and Al is fairly sure he can spot tinges of red creeping up the older boy's neck. Winry's expression is focused, tinkering away at the broken automail.

There's almost something ethereal about the way they move. Ed lets out a soft sigh, and Winry giggles softly in reply. Al resists the urge to jerk back in shock. Ed never sounds so relaxed, so vulnerable. Never around him, and especially never around others. The unadulterated state of tranquility of the room is something not even Al, in his cold, unfeeling suit of armor, can ignore.

"Ed?"

Winry's whisper is the softest Al has ever heard her. With a jolt, he realizes that they've forgotten his presence. This is how Ed and Winry have always been behind closed doors with the clinking of tools in the background, transformed into white noise. Al wants to close his eyes and plug his ears. Voyeur! His mind taunts. But there's something about the quiet interaction that keeps Al's undivided attention on them.

"Yeah?"

There's something different about his brother's tone of voice. It's gentle and soft, like a warm, fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Or rather, Winry's shoulders. Al doesn't think he's ever heard Ed use that tone of voice with someone before.

"You're an idiot."

Winry's voice is watery. Al wants to go over to her and pat her shoulders in what he hopes seem like a comforting fashion. Anything to keep Winry from crying. Al and Ed don't agree on a copious amount of things, but they always concur when it comes to Winry crying. Don't let her.

Al thinks it's the perfect time to intervene at this point, break the atmosphere and resume their roles as a rambunctious trio that knew naught of the definition of quiet. Then Ed takes Winry's hand with his flesh one, rubbing circles into her palm in a tender manner that Al has never thought quite possible for the older boy.

Winry's wrench falls to the floor, the metal against the hard floor creating a cacophony of clattering. Al winces, making his way to go pick it up and chide his brother for causing the mechanic to drop it in the first place. Then Winry's head dips, her forehead pressing against his neck. Teardrops splatter the floor.

Ed speaks, "I know."

Al concludes that there's something hypnotizing about automail maintenance for both Winry and Ed. It puts them under a spell. All of their movements are languid, practiced, and never less than sincere. There's something intimate about the way they move, and it leaves Al feeling shameful and embarrassed that he's witnessing it in the first place. Ed's head rolls back, resting against Winry's shoulder and the curve of her neck. The position hardly looks comfortable in Al's eyes.

Winry and Ed don't seem to care.

"I was worried about you, you know." Her voice is muffled against his brother's skin.

Edward shifts slightly, "You always are."

"Why do I feel like you're taking me for granted?" There's a lilt of laughter in her voice.

There's a pause, "Maybe because I am."

"Brother, that's so mean!" Al slaps his gauntlet's over his face the moment the words come tumbling out. Ed and Winry's heads snap up, blushes coating their cheeks creeping down their necks. Winry's hand quickly goes to rub away the tear trails, and both of their hands fall away from each other.

"Al!" Ed exclaims. "I forgot you were even there…"

"Well, obviously," Al retorts, unable to stop himself. "I didn't realize you two were so- so intimate with each other."

Al wouldn't have been surprised if both of their faces spontaneously burst into flames.

"W-We're not!" they shriek in unison.

"Could've had me fooled," Al replies teasingly.

The door slams open, and they're greeted with the stern face of Riza Hawkeye.

"What is going on in here?" she voice is even but her expression is sharp.

"N-n-nothing!" the three of them stammer.

"Good."

The door closes, but the mood has been broken indefinitely. Winry returns to maintenance while Ed remains vigilant, determined not to do anything embarrassingly tender with the mechanic in front of his cheeky brother.

Al suppresses a sigh.

And they were so cute together, too.


fairly drabble-ish. my first fullmetal fic that's even vaguely romantic. *sigh* edwin is my favorite ship in this show. i hope everyone seems in character; i'm pretty sure they don't because ugh. i feel like this is in the brotherhood universe despite my inspiration being the original, but oh well.

don't ask me why they're in this room or whatever. personally, the focal point should be ed and winry's interactions, and possibly al's musings. if you want background information, let's suppose that there's some sort of danger that the boys are in and mustang and his team are keeping them in some type of safehouse. no set time period except for, obviously, before the promised day.

constructive criticism welcome!