Best Days

(Alphonse/Winry)

Author's Notes: I wanted to write something for Valentine's Day and this is it. I'd post it then but I'll be busy so I chose to write it/post it now. I hope you enjoy. And it's long! Well, compared to my other 100-300 stories of FMA. The song title and the story itself came from listening to Matt White's "Best Days" for two hours.

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Alphonse Elric is not fooling anyone. He's handsome and adorable and can get away with almost anything if he gave me the right look, but this, this he's not getting away with. I know that he's not really sleep, but that he's faking it. And he knows that I know. So it's only a matter of time before the game is over. It's no wonder he got up to follow me in the kitchen, the way he's been with me lately. It's understandable, though, his desires to keep me close. Even though years have passed since he regained his body, he still marvels at the little things in life: the rain, the sun, the itchy cotton sweaters that I make him wear so he doesn't get a cold. (He even wanted to catch a cold so he could remember what it was like but I was adamant about it.) But the one thing he can't seem to get enough of is me. Whether it's a brush of his fingertips against the back of my neck, or a kiss when I'm least expecting it (like this morning when he decided to kiss me and then claim it was to see what toothpaste I used).

I look him over as I set his coffee mug on the bedside table. His arms are under the pillow, his face buried in the crook of his neck. His hair is ruffled and in every direction. His feet are poking out at the other end of the bed, bare except for an inch of one sock that is dangling from one of his left toes, as if it is hanging on for dear life. The dark blue sheet is barely covering the line of his orange boxers and….

Orange?

My interest is piqued, which I know is what he wanted. It was probably his plan all along. I almost reach over but stop myself, and instead reach for his coffee.

Now it's his turn to react. This is his coffee after all, and since he's so particular, I know he won't enjoy my taking the first sip. My lips barely touch the rim of the mug when he stirs (again, fooling no one). His eyes peer over the pillow as his feet duck beneath the sheets as they are pulled back under. The sock is lost to the floor but he doesn't seem to notice.

I smile as his hand reaches for the mug, which I give him. But instead of drinking from it, he puts it on the other side of the bed. I get another glance at his orange boxers in the process. I give him a look of confusion, motioning to his underwear and he grins, "I thought it would get your attention."

"They're certainly interesting."

I notice how his eyes somewhat fall, but the grin grows to make up for it. "That's it?"

"Yes." I drag out the one syllable word for a while, confused.

"You just think that they're interesting."

"Yes." I clip the word this time, starting to wonder if maybe he should just go back to bed. "Why are we having an in-depth discussion about your underwear?"

He says nothing, pulling the pillow against the headboard and leaning against it. He now looks to me with what I can only gather as a very lame attempt at a 'come hither' kind of look.

Half-laugh, half-cough escapes my throat at this and Al's reaction is priceless. He does his best at pouting, which I'm certain worked better on his mother than it does on me. But I give in nonetheless, playing the part of the very sorrowful wife.

"Alphonse…"

"Oh no. That's not going to work."

"But Alphoonse." I star to twirl the ends of my hair, looking down and then back to him. His outer wall is crumbling, I can tell.

"…No. Nope not gonna do a thing."

I fight to keep from smiling in victory as I edge closer to him, laying my head on his bare shoulder, "I was just joking."

He grumbles something I can't quite understand but I ignore it, wrapping my arms around his middle. He's really silent now.

"Alphonse?"

"Hm?"

"Were you trying to seduce me?"

He shrugged his other shoulder so that my head wouldn't be tossed around and I take that as a 'yes'.

"Al?"

"Yes?"

"Would you care to have a Valentine's Day cuddle?"

"Then sex?"

I laugh at his tone and nod. "So?"

A kiss that knocks me back onto the mattress is my reply. I guess we'll do the cuddling after.

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Author's Notes: Thank you for reading!