Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist cuz if I did there's no way Bones would allow me to let Ed and Winry do what they're about to do in this chapter.
A/N: Hi everybody! So here we are, the emotional crux of the story. Now, I don't want to give very much away, so I'll only leave you with this:
Citrus.
Like, make your lips purse citrus. A nice combination of lemon and lime that will both quench your thirst and leave you wanting more. At least, that's what I was going for. Oh! And for anyone who is either a Vic Mignogna fan or Resembool Ranger, you probably know what the chapter title is in reference to. If not, then I'll tell you:
It's the title of an absolutely lovely song by composer and song writer Vic Mignogna, also known as the VA for Edward Elric, also known for making hordes of anime fans scream so loud that people have experienced short periods of deafness in the immediate vicinity (OK, that last one is a bit of an exaggeration, but only by that much).
Anyway, find this song! It's beautiful, and the moment I heard it I knew what I wanted the underlying theme of this chapter to be. I also recommend listening to it in the background as you read this chapter, but that's just for ambiance's sake.
And now, I think I've built up this chapter enough. I know you're eager to see what's been written, so by all means, get reading!
Enjoy!
It's Time to Trust Again
France
9. Oct. 28
***
Once they were out of sight of the café, Noa broke down. She buried her head in her husband's neck and cried silently. Al brushed his fingers through her thick hair, whispering words of reassurance.
"I'll take her back to the townhouse." Al decided.
"I-I-I…I'm sor-sorry. I c-c-can-can't help…help it!" Noa gasped, trying to control her quiet wails and choppy breathing.
"You don't have to be sorry." Ed insisted, rubbing the woman's back gently. "Go home and rest."
"What about you and Eddie?" Al asked as he raised his arm to hail a cab.
"We'll be fine, right, buddy?" Ed cooed. Eddie was still sniffling against his father's shoulder, slowly coming around from the trauma of having to say goodbye to his friends. He didn't respond to his father but Ed wasn't too concerned. He knew Eddie would recover, especially once he was distracted by other activities.
"We'll see you at home, then." Al said, grinning compassionately as he secured a taxi and moved to open the door and help Noa inside. He waved at his nephew through the window as the cab drove off. Eddie shifted in Ed's arms, one eye cracking open to watch his uncle and aunt drive away.
Ed gave Eddie's bottom a comforting pat and began to walk down the street, humming the same lullaby Winry had sung to the child back at the apartment in Berlin. It instantly began to soothe the boy, but then, music had always had that affect on Eddie. He continued to sniffle and Ed didn't have the heart to complain when Eddie rubbed his nose on his coat sleeve when he finally raised his head to observe the area around him.
They were walking the Voie Georges Pomidou along the Seine. A chilly breeze wafted off the river, encouraging Eddie to snuggle against his father. With each step that Ed took, Eddie became more settled, more calm, until he was no longer dwelling on the farewell he had made with his adoptive siblings. Suddenly, the world around him became of great interest, from the scurrying foot traffic, to the passing, freshly waxed automobiles, to the soaring white stone buildings that captured the sun's light and bathed the street below in white rays.
"Look, Daddy! A boat." Eddie pointed out, squirming in Ed's arms as he tried to get a better look at the yacht that was lazily trekking up the sparkling Seine. Welcoming the distraction, Ed lowered Eddie to the ground and allowed the child to do as he wished. Transfixed, Eddie walked to the metal barrier and stuck his head between the bars. Ed laughed as he watched his son wave excitedly at the crew that were walking along the stern of the boat. "Hi!" Eddie cried, giggling shrilly when the men onboard waved back. "They see me."
"They sure do." Ed agreed, as he stood beside Eddie to watch the yacht float pass.
"Can we go on a boat like that?"
"And where would you go on a boat?" Ed teased, holding out a hand for Eddie to take so that they could continue their walk up the scenic street. Eddie gripped two of Ed's fingers tightly, marching widely alongside his father. Every now and then something would capture Eddie's fascination, a black, bushy tailed squirrel darting between the cars on the street, a raft of ducks wadding along the river, an ostentatiously dressed woman with pearls draped around her neck like a scarf, even the odd cloud that would remind the three year old of a favorite dessert. Free of his sorrow, Eddie released Ed's fingers and rushed ahead of him, spreading his arms out, the flaps of his unbuttoned coat trailing behind him like tweed wings.
Ed relished the sight, glad to lose himself in his son and the boy's innocence. It wasn't often that father and son got to spend time together outside of some sort of enclosure. It was rare that Ed allowed Eddie outdoors even though the boy was starved for the adventure that fresh air and sunshine promised. He was no longer a toddler that could be easily penned into a sitting room and satisfied with the breeze from an open window. Eddie needed room and freedom and the chance to be a normal three year old. Ed wanted that for Eddie, wanted him to spread his wings and discover the world, he just wanted it to be safe.
At least the immediate danger that Kluge and his followers posed was lessened.
Barely twenty-four hours after Ed and the others had discovered Le Trou, the Sûreté Nationale had raided the condemned ghetto, seizing the weapons stored within. The tip to the French police had been conferred by an anonymous informant that Ed knew was Maes Hughes in a final gesture before his departure for Britain. While the weapons had been taken, Ed had learned that the maps, files, blueprints and plans were not found, suggesting that Kluge and Eaglewing had returned to Le Trou and cleared it of the most damning evidence.
"Oops!" Eddie laughed, reaching for his dark wig when it began to slide to one side of his head. Ed rushed to his son's aid and quickly readjusted the disguise before any passing pedestrians took notice. While Ed was confident that Kluge was no longer in France and that the SS commander's plans for invasion were no longer feasible, if not completely obliterated, he refused to take a chance with Eddie. Though he was well aware that the child hated the wig, Ed would rather put up a fight with the three year old than risk his life.
He loved his son.
And maybe, it was time to focus on his family rather than his cause.
Eddie and Ed eventually made their way to Tuileries Gardens, the inviting open park brimming with bright greenery and sauntering crowds. There was a fair sized group gathered around a makeshift puppet theatre, the streamers, colors and laughter immediately drawing Eddie's attention.
"Let's go there." the three year old decided. Ed indulged his son and joined the crowd that was watching a Punch and Judy puppet show. Eddie sat with the other children that were huddled around the theatre, clapping at every ridiculous situation Punch got himself into. When a performer dressed as a harlequin asked for volunteers to take up instruments to encourage Punch as he fought the Devil, Eddie was the first to raise his hand. He was given a toy drum and he banged on it with great gusto, shouting loudly for Punch to defeat the horned puppet. When the show ended the crowd erupted with applause and the children who had joined in the performance took their bows with the rest of the players. Returning the rawhide drum to the harlequin, Eddie skipped towards his father.
"Did you have fun?" Ed asked. Eddie nodded vigorously. Smiling Ed dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a few coins. "Go put this in the clown's hat."
Eddie did as Ed said, rushing back to the harlequin actor and placing the coins in his pointed, bell-topped cap before returning to his father and taking his hand.
"Hungry?" Ed asked.
"Yep." Eddie answered.
"Alright. Come on." Ed instructed, gently leading Eddie towards a sweet cake vendor. The tantalizing scent of cake topped with warm roasted walnuts drizzled in honey was mouth watering and Eddie ate half of his treat before he and his father had found a bench to sit on. Ed chuckled at the mess Eddie made, honey and crumbs sticking to his cheeks and chin as he munched contently. They didn't speak as they ate, watching the world walk past them through the gardens that were vibrant with rich autumn colors. It was a quiet, peaceful moment between father and son and Ed found that he didn't want to lose the time he had with Eddie.
He didn't want Eddie's memories of his father to be like the ones Ed had of his own. He wanted Eddie to be happy.
"So, where do you think we should go next?" Ed asked as he wiped the honey off of Eddie's cheeks.
"I wanna hear music." Eddie decided.
"OK. I know where to go." Ed said, taking the boy's hand and leading him out of Tuileries Gardens so that they could make their way up a long avenue.
"Where we going?" Eddie asked.
"It's a secret." Ed taunted.
"No! Tell me!"
"Not when you ask like that." Ed snorted.
"Daddy! No secrets."
The words were completely naïve, not meant to upset or haunt, but hearing them shook Ed so much that his easy, confident stride faltered. Visions of Winry sitting up in her bed with that ugly bruise taunting him reminded Ed of how badly he had hurt her.
Once again, in a long list of many indiscretions, Ed had failed Winry. He had failed at protecting her, at supporting her, at understanding her…
He had failed her.
And for that, she had said goodbye to him.
They reached the Palais Garnier sooner than Ed had anticipated, breaking his melancholy thoughts.
"Wow…" Eddie sighed, the illustrious opera house overpowering the child's attention.
"You like that?" Ed asked.
"What is it?"
"It's an opera house. We're gonna go inside and listen to some music." Ed promised, hoisting the boy up onto his shoulders. "You gotta promise to keep quiet, Eddie. We're sneaking in."
Eddie stifled his chuckles against the back of Ed's skull, thrilled at their conspiracy. With skills honed from many years of slinking through the shadows, Ed wound his way around the back of the building and slipped through an open door that was being used by workmen who were shuffling fractured prop pieces into the backstage area. Eddie kept his lips clamped shut and, just to assure that Ed did the same, he wrapped his hands around his father's mouth, smothering his giggles when Ed playfully nipped at his fingers. Managing to get lost four times, and nearly getting caught twice, Ed finally led his son to an empty theatre box where they could secret themselves. They had just arrived as the orchestra was rehearsing the beginning of the third act of Der Rosenkavalier. Settling in a plush cushioned red chair, Ed let the strength of the score wash over him, mildly keeping an eye on Eddie who was peeking with entranced curiosity over the gilded banister to get a better look at the musicians in the orchestra pit.
Music had a magical affect on Eddie. His eyes would get misty and seem to go far away, as if he was remembering things he shouldn't be able to.
Manka had loved music. After they had been married, Ed would often find her pacing their little apartment in the middle of the night, rubbing her swollen belly and singing to the child who was restlessly turning in her womb. She insisted that her songs soothed the baby, and since she had died before she was even able to hold her son, the only memory Eddie was capable of having of his mother was the sound of her voice singing to him in the womb. Ed often wondered if Eddie's fascination with music was because it truly was the only link he had to his mother. Was the boy able to somehow grasp onto his mother's spirit in the lilting twine of the strings? The frantic breathing of the pipes? The forceful rattling of the drums? Or perhaps it was clear, haunting call of the soprano who was practicing her scales, her alluring voice sending one into a strange waking dream where reality and fantasy blurred.
Listening to the music and seeing his son so involved in the performance, Ed's own mind began to wander and he found himself dwelling on the inevitable.
He missed Winry.
It was odd. As a teenager, Ed had often found his indisputable ties to Winry and all that she meant to him a nuisance, like a shameful secret that had to be locked away and hidden under the bed. He hadn't wanted those memories or those feelings, believing he was better off to leave her in his past like the charred remains of his house. He still appreciated Winry, cared for her and wanted her to be happy, but at sixteen, Ed hadn't quite accepted Winry's importance in his life. It wasn't until he was trapped on the other side of the Gate and caught himself looking for her familiar face that he even began to understand how much he cared for his automail mechanic. Over the years, Ed had come to understand and accept that he was in love with Winry, that he likely had been for a large part of his youth and that he always would care for her until the day his automail rusted off of his body. He had been offered the chance to have her, to be with her like he truly desired, and his own selfish insecurities had destroyed everything.
She said he didn't trust her, and she was right.
Manka had known about Ed's rebellion against Kluge and the SS. When she had finally found him after months of searching, Ed had told her of his true motives, confessing to the dangerous life he led, but swearing to protect her and their baby. He never told Manka about his past, though, allowing her to continue believing that the life of the Fullmetal Alchemist was nothing more than a tall tale woven together by the needles of his imagination. And then there was Winry, who knew about Ed's past, had been his past, and even as he claimed he wanted her to be part of his future, he had kept quiet about very important aspects of his new life.
Trust was not something Ed was able to give easily. He hadn't fully trusted Manka. He hadn't fully trusted Winry. He loved both, had lost both, and it was all his own damn fault.
'Your priorities are really fucked up Edward Elric,' he thought morosely, sifting his fingers through is hair as the beginnings of a headache started to take root.
"Daddy, are you sad?" Eddie asked, moving to wrap his arms around Ed's legs and resting his chin on his automail knee.
"No." Ed lied, ruffling Eddie's wig before pulling the boy onto his lap. They listened quietly throughout the rest of the rehearsal, successfully sneaking out of the box seats before they were caught.
To end their outing, Ed decided that he and Eddie would trek to the top of Eiffel Tower. The view was something Eddie had never seen before and the challenging walk up the one thousand six hundred and sixty five stairs was the sort of exercise Ed needed to clear his thoughts. He was puffed out by the time they made it to the observation deck, sliding Eddie off his back and warning the boy to be careful about getting too close to the edge.
"Pretty colors." Eddie exclaimed, pointing out over the rooftops of the city as the setting rays of the sun painted the French capitol in vibrant shades of pink, lavender and coral.
"Sure is, buddy." Ed agreed.
"Hey, Daddy." Eddie called. "Is you still sad?"
"I'm not sad." Ed lied again.
"Maybe if you asks Winnie that question you won't be sad no more." Eddie offered.
"Ask her what question?" Ed wondered, truly curious by his son's solution to the rift between himself and Winry.
"I don't know. Winnie just said you had to asks her something and then she could be my mommy." Eddie explained. "She promised she'd say 'yes'."
"Did she?" Ed sighed, now aware of exactly what Eddie was talking about. Crouching down so that he was eye-level with the boy, Ed saw the naked hope that was shinning in Eddie's eyes. "Is that what you really want? You want Winry to be your mom?"
"Yeah!" Eddie answered enthusiastically without a shred of hesitation.
"Well, you know, she can be pretty scary sometimes." Ed teased. "And she'll make you drink milk."
That little quip gave the boy pause and he appeared to be seriously considering the pros and cons of having Winry as his mother before he flashed his father a stern, stubborn expression, one that clearly stated that he would not be swayed.
"I want Winnie to be my mommy."
The boy's mind was soundly made up and in truth, so was Ed's. He wanted Winry, too, and he wasn't going to lose her because of his foolishness. Smiling in understanding, Ed hugged Eddie tightly before giving the child a chance to romp around the observation deck.
Ed leaned against the railing, his golden eyes taking in the city. He replayed the argument he and Winry had had five nights ago, her words fresh in his memory. She claimed he didn't trust her and Ed agreed with her scathing assessment. He didn't want to put that faith in her. She could hurt him with one word even worse than Manka's death had. It was unbearable to be torn away from the person you held dear. Ed had lived that tragedy the first time he was locked away from his world, barred from all that he loved, including Winry. And then Manka came into his life, lulled him into that secure feeling again only to leave him when he needed her the most. Having Winry returned to him was truly a cosmic miracle, but the fear of falling into that hellish pit of heartache kept Ed from allowing himself to be that vulnerable again. But if he wanted Winry, he was going to have to find the courage to be that open…to show her he trusted her and hope that she could trust him again.
As he came to his decision, Ed found himself filling with confidence, the rhythmic beat of Eddie clapping his hands together as he walked along the deck pounding Ed's resolve solidly into his heart. He was afraid, he was uncertain, but he was also a man in love who had realized that that love was worth any amount of hurt and pain.
She was worth fighting for.
A warm, coursing energy rushed up Ed's spine and through his limbs, electrifying his brain as he came to his decision. He didn't know how, but he would find a way to prove to Winry that he was trustworthy. His whole body felt alive and vigorous, much like he used to feel when he mastered a new type of alchemy for the first time. Taking in a deep breath, the rush of the cool twilight air coating his lungs, Ed gave the rooftops of Paris one final, admiring look before moving away from the railing.
It was time to go home.
"Eddie, come on." Ed called as he started for the doorway.
"But Daddy, come see –"
"Now, Edward."
Grumbling, the child stomped after his father, clearly disgruntled at Ed's dismissal. After all, he had only wanted to show his father the crude model of an automail hand that he just had created.
A steel hand resembling the one Eddie had been playing with for several weeks, jutted from the observation deck's railing, the blue sparks of alchemical energy still dancing between the fingers.
Noa sighed as she stared at the photograph in her hands, absently stroking the faces of the three smiling children on the flat surface. The picture had been taken just days before, a project Al had undertaken knowing that Noa would need the comfort of such a precious memento once Paz, Ruth and Yafit were gone. She didn't cry as she fondly studied the picture. It felt as if all the tears inside of her had been shed, leaving her eyes red and raw, her nose dribbling and throat sore. She and Al had been in the sitting room all afternoon, reminiscing about the children and comforting one another. Winry had selected to spend her day in her bedroom, only coming down to share a cup of tea with Al and Noa before once again retreating to her sanctuary.
"Are you feeling alright, Noa?" Al asked, moving to sit beside her so that he could also admire the photograph.
"I'll be fine." Noa replied, believing her own reassurance for the first time. "Seeing their new families was very helpful. They're good people."
"They are." Al agreed. "You're very brave."
"Me?" Noa asked, smiling shyly as she turned on the sofa to address her husband. "I've been a disaster for days."
"But you still did the right thing. You let go. I know how hard that is." Al sympathized, moving to put an arm around Noa. She accepted his embrace and curled against him, finding a great solace in the simple movement of his hand rubbing up and down her arm. Relaxing against her husband, Noa was lulled into a serene peace and turned to thank Al for supporting her. She gasped when she found herself caught up in his molten buttery gaze, realizing just how close they were and how wonderful he smelled, like autumn breezes and fresh bread.
Noa found herself staring longingly at Al's mouth.
She kissed him, her lips wet and eager, sculpting to his, massaging them with a tender delicacy. Al didn't hesitate as he kissed Noa back, a palpable relief tinting his returned embrace. It felt as if heavy chains anchored by lead weights had been lifted from the shoulders of the couple and they relished in their newly discovered freedom. Their kiss was long and sweet, a perfect meeting of lips unhindered by the furious passion that had been the force behind their first kiss shared so many months ago. But the memory of that kiss hovered over the pair as they parted for breath. They easily found desire shinning in the other's eyes and could not contain their fervor any longer.
Al dug his fingers into Noa's hair, pulling her to him with no intention of allowing her escape, his lips ensuring her sound capture. Noa accepted her captivity with a melodious moan, her mouth open and inviting, stroking Al's tongue with a delighted vigor when he dared to invade her moist cavern. Her arms wrapped snuggly around Al's neck and pulled him closer, sighing happily when her breasts pressed perfectly against his chest, her nipples aching for his touch. Al's fingers trailed from her hair to grip her shoulders, digging into her skin. His loss of control making Noa's blood boil.
She had to tell him.
He had to know.
"Alphonse!" Noa gasped, moving to press her forehead against his chin so that she could collect her breath and thoughts. She was ready to tell him about the feelings floating in her heart, desperate to share with her husband all that he meant to her. With the children gone, he was her world, and just as she had confessed weeks ago, Noa wanted to begin a family of their own. And tonight, for the first night in countless months, they would be alone in the bedroom. There were still two separate beds in the room, but what was stopping them from sharing just one?
There were simply too many unsaid feelings between the husband and wife. Al had summoned a great deal of courage to confess that he cared about her and Noa would honor him by doing the same.
"Alphonse." she said, her voice even and sure. She wasn't afraid of her love. She embraced it and only hoped that Al gladly accepted the gift she was about to bestow on him. "I just want you to know that…know that I care about you, too."
Her confession left Al beaming, the smile on his face as bright as any ray of sunshine. He kissed her softly on her brow, urging her to face him so that she could see just how powerfully her words had struck him. Noa recognized the open, hopeful expression and it gave her a great amount of courage to press on.
"You wanted to ask me something in the garden that day, remember?"
Al nodded.
"What were you going to ask?"
"It…it's not important. Not right now." Al replied. "I can ask another time."
"Does it really matter that much?" Noa wondered.
Al didn't reply and moved to kiss his wife again. Though he desperately wanted to know where Noa's feelings resided, he knew Noa was still suffering from her separation from the children, and while he didn't doubt the emotion behind her kisses and caresses, Al wasn't so certain of their motivation. He could wait a little longer. And if he were perfectly honest, he was afraid of Noa's response. He needed time to refortify his courage.
They sat together for close to an hour in comfortable silence, leaning against one another on the sofa. Winry had come down to tell them she was going to take a shower and Noa was sluggishly preparing to move from her warm nest at Al's side to begin making dinner when Ed and Eddie returned.
"Uncle Al, Auntie Noa, guess what!" Eddie exclaimed, tearing off his black wig as he soared onto the sofa, landing feet first between them.
"Off the sofa with your shoes on, young man." Ed admonished as he looped his fingers under Eddie's waistband and hoisted him in the air. The three year old grunted as his trousers pulled in uncomfortable places while Noa took off his shoes and tickled his feet before Ed put him back down on the striped cushions.
"Well, tell us what you did today." Al insisted.
"Daddy took me to see some music." Eddie started, flashing his father a happy smile over his shoulder. "And there was a man who did this."
Eddie began to swing his arms back and forth in a grand embellishment of the motions the maestro had made during the rehearsal they had watched. Al and Noa laughed, fueling Eddie's excitement which seemed to be unrelenting.
Ed looked on the scene and yawned. The young father was exhausted. The muscles in his back were especially tight and he rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension.
What he needed was a shower.
After he was clean and relaxed and dressed in fresh clothes, then he would go and find Winry.
"Al? You and Noa can feed this little monster. I'm going to take a shower."
"Sure." Al answered absently, still focused on Eddie's animated tale of the adventures he'd had over the course of the afternoon. Waving his thanks, Ed made his way up the stairs, leaving aunt, uncle and nephew in the sitting room.
"Alphonse?" Noa said suddenly. "Isn't Winry taking a shower?"
Al froze, his expression a rapid flux of concentration, realization and projected horror as the implications of what could happen upstairs if Ed walked in on Winry in the shower.
"Shouldn't we warn him?" Noa probed when Al didn't speak.
"Do you want to go after him?" Al parroted back.
Noa narrowed her brown eyes at her husband and briefly considered his proposition before soundly chickening out.
"He'll hear the water running." No excused. "He'll know she's in there."
And that was the truth Noa and Al chose to believe before abandoning all thoughts of what Ed and Winry might do should they meet in the bathroom upstairs and returning their full focus on Eddie and his excited stories.
Ed had flung his shirt into a corner and was working on the buttons of his trousers when he realized that the water was running and a misty steam was slowly filling the small bathroom. He had been so involved with daydreaming about the sweet relief of the pounding water on his sore back that he had locked the door and was half naked before he realized that the shower was occupied. There was only one person in the townhouse that could be in the shower, and through the mosaic checkered shower curtain, Ed could make out her svelte silhouette.
If he was a gentleman, he would redress and leave, hopefully without Winry noticing, but Ed was more rake than nobleman, and so he continued to unbutton his trousers. He watched Winry's shadow intently, encouraged in his actions when he saw one of her hands stretch over the brass curtain rod, her fingers coated with suds, as if beckoning him to quickly divest himself of his underwear and socks and join her.
Ed realized his actions might seem hasty, even egotistical and obnoxious, but it wasn't about lust. It was about trust.
He had to prove to Winry that he trusted her, that he wanted her to trust him, and at the moment, the golden eyed man couldn't think of a more raw expression of his resolve and his feelings than to be naked.
He would be the most vulnerable he had ever been with a woman, allowing her to see all of him, his body, mind and emotions.
No barriers, not even clothing.
Finally removing the binding from his ponytail, exposed of every barrier he had worked his whole life to build, Ed stood outside of the shower for a moment, the steam moistening his skin. Swallowing what remained of his insecurities, beating down the deep rooted fear he had of the possibility of being abandoned by one he loved, Ed pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower.
Winry's back was facing him, her head directly under the strong streams of hot water. She couldn't hear him behind her and Ed took the opportunity to take in her beautiful physique. With her blond hair slicked back it seemed almost transparent, molding to her spine and shoulders, the tips barely brushing her glistening buttocks. Ed stared at Winry's rear end, his flesh hand recalling how plump and soft it felt, leading the young man's memory to think of other parts of Winry that felt divine against his flesh.
Closing his eyes, Ed forced his fantasies to rest, unwilling to allow himself to become aroused. He had to prove himself to Winry and if she saw him naked behind her with a swollen cock any chances he had to prove his sincerity would evaporate with the steam. He remained behind her, waiting until Winry realized that she wasn't alone.
He didn't have to wait very long.
Winry stiffened, her intuition informing her of the presence at her back. She turned around, her blue eyes as hot as lightning. Her eyes widened and jaw dropped when she realized that it was Ed who was invading her space, a shocked fury replacing her momentary fear. Her arms moved to conceal her body from his sight, one crossing over her breasts and the other falling low to shield the crisp blond curls between her thighs.
Equally amused and insulted by Winry's modesty, Ed maintained eye contact with the wet woman before him, keeping his distance as she took in his stark state.
Unlike Winry, Ed didn't cover himself, allowing her to peruse his flesh for as long as she wished. She kept her interest on his face for several minutes before slowly taking advantage of the opportunity Ed was providing, roving over his chest, arms and torso before dropping lower. He couldn't help his blush when Winry's large blue eyes observed his member. He wasn't hard, completely unthreatening, though he was forced to mentally recite the periodic table when Winry licked her lips as she appraised his cock.
She was beautiful, and if he could prove himself, she would be his.
Stepping towards her, Ed was glad that Winry didn't shy away from him, but the closer he got, the clearer the erupting anger in her eyes appeared. When he was standing just inches before her, Winry moved, slapping Ed hard across the left side of his face.
His neck twisted and his cheek stung. He kept his face turned away, eyes averted from her form. The only sounds in the room were the gush of the water and the patter of those streams hitting flesh and metal, all muffled by the hard pounding of Ed and Winry's hearts.
Winry lowered her hand, breathing harshly, waiting for Ed to face her. He did slowly, flipping his sodden hair out of his eyes so that her vision of him was unobscured. He almost reached out to wipe at the few tears he spotted slipping from Winry's eyes, but he kept himself from touching her, instead using his eyes to communicate his intentions.
Winry held her breath as she was struck by the deep emotion reflected in Ed's eyes.
He was sorry.
She hadn't seen Ed for five days, knowing he was avoiding her and eventually giving in to her decision to leave him. Now he was standing before, naked and wet, not touching her, not yelling, just looking at her, begging her to see his apology reflected in his eyes.
She knew what Ed was trying to do.
He was breaking down the wall that had always kept them separated. For the first time in years, since before Trisha Elric passed away, Winry believed that Ed was really looking at her, stripped of all his attitude and confidence, offering up the most delicate and precious thing he had.
His heart.
Following Ed's example, Winry didn't use words. She projected her feelings in her eyes, not needing to express to him how hurt and betrayed she had felt. He knew that. What she needed Ed to know was that she still loved him, had been missing him, and that she was terrified of letting him hurt her again.
He saw, and acted to assuage her fears.
When Ed leaned in to kiss her, Winry met him halfway. The kiss was sweet and innocent, like all first kisses should be. It was an honest exchange between lovers, and hope welled within Winry's heart.
As Ed backed away, he took hold of the soap and washcloth sitting on the corner shelf. He lathered up the cloth and put the soap away before indicating with a gentle smile that he wanted to wash her. Blushing from the roots of her hair to the tip of her nose, Winry nodded her consent awkwardly, presenting Ed with her back. He ran the cloth along her skin in gentle circles, his automail hand running up and down her side, the metal slick and warm from the water.
Ed worked slowly, massaging as well as cleansing. He charted every curve and dip on Winry's body, learning and rediscovering her skin. As he was wiping her left hand Ed spotted a thin, nearly invisible scar that cut across her palm, the result of a wayward screwdriver from the first automail arm she had made for him.
A surging warmth spread through Ed.
The automail Winry constructed was her way of expressing her affection for him. Ed knew that, appreciated Winry's efforts, and swore that he would never make her regret any scar she ever acquired because of him.
He continued to bathe her, his fingers not shy as he rubbed her breasts, unable to restrain himself from teasing her pink nipples. Winry squeaked, both surprised and mildly annoyed at Ed's playfulness, slapping his tweaking fingers away and snorting when he flashed her a cheeky grin. He continued down her belly and across her hips, bravely daring to scrub the curls that protected her most sensitive spot from his fingers.
Winry closed her eyes when his fingers touched her there, her breath catching in her throat. There was a knot of anticipation and excitement, and suddenly it was gone, along with Ed's fingers. Winry opened her eyes, disappointed at Ed's retreat, and then nearly gasped at what she saw.
Ed was on his knees before her, the sudsy washcloth still in hand, his automail fingers circled delicately around one ankle and coaxing her foot into the air. Winry watched with rapt fascination as Ed washed her feet. In a strange way, it felt more intimate than making love.
He moved from her feet to wash her legs delicately, circling her knees and wandering high up on her inner thighs. He massaged her buttocks, unashamed when his automail hand lingered longer than necessary on the plump flesh. He then rose to his feet and finished by scrubbing her neck, his golden eyes following the white suds as they trailed down her torso and tickled her bellybutton.
When he was done, Ed placed the washcloth in Winry's hands, still not speaking, telling her with his eyes and his smile and his body that she could return the favor if she liked.
Winry accepted the invitation, lathering the washcloth and gliding it along Ed's chiseled body. She scrubbed him thoroughly, taking great care with his back. The scars from his time in Kluge's prison were pronounced against his bronze skin and Winry leaned against Ed's back, catching her breath when her nipples touched him. She pressed her lips to the scar tissue, kissing each of the injuries he had suffered. Ed gulped, his breath shallow and muscles tense. Since she was facing his back Winry could not see the physical effect she was having on Ed's body, though she was able to suspect.
Smiling proudly, Winry lathered her fingers with the soap before moving to sift them through Ed's golden blond hair. Playing with Ed's hair had always been a secret favorite pastime of Winry's. She sighed contentedly, lulled into a serene calm as she washed Ed's hair, scraping her nails against his scalp and giggling every time he groaned in satisfaction.
The water washed away the soap, leaving only the fresh scent of Ed behind. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Winry coaxed Ed to turn and face her so that she could continue bathing him. He fought her momentarily, but eventually conceded, blushing madly when it was revealed that he had become hard during Winry's ministrations.
Winry licked her lips again, fascinated by Ed's cock and flattered that she had worked him up into such a state. Curious, Winry looked Ed in the eye, holding his attention. Gulping, she glanced back down at Ed's erection, her silent query clear.
Ed's mouth went dry and most of his rationale seeped out of his ears to slip down the drain as he nodded his consent. Nodding back, Winry took a deep breath before stroking Ed's chest, dragging her nails over his dark nipples which puckered under her touch. His stomach muscles jumped as she caressed her way down to his bellybutton. She played with the alluring trail of dark golden hairs that led like a treasure map down to the prize straining between his legs, her fingers hovering over his cock in nervous anticipation.
Winry had never taken a great deal of time to observe and admire the male anatomy. Her career as an automail mechanic and doctor had left Winry in the position of regarding the human body in a strictly professional manner and she had been far too timid during her time with Preston to feel truly comfortable with exploring his body.
Ed was different.
There wasn't any man in the world Winry could imagine herself being more comfortable with, and besides, she trusted Ed.
And when she gripped him in her hand, feeling him tremble as she stroked the most vulnerable part of his body, she knew he trusted her, too.
The soap had made her hands slippery, allowing her to run her fist along his cock comfortably. He was warm, almost hot to the touch, and he pulsed strongly under her palm, his hardened length jumping slightly as she pumped him with vigorous inexperience.
Ed fell back against the tiled wall, welcoming the mild pain that rattled though his skull from the impact as he did his best to control his body. Winry's fingers felt wonderful, the soap and the smell and the water and her grip driving him into an impassioned frenzy. He wanted to pin Winry to the wall and take her hard and fast, relieving both of them of the tension that was creating far more steam than the hot water pummeling their slick forms.
But he wouldn't touch her, refusing himself that satisfaction as he looked down to watch Winry's hand caress him.
She was the one in control.
He was giving her the power to tease or promise, to fulfill or retreat. Clenching his fists, Ed gasped when Winry pulled on him a bit too harshly, his body naturally flinching at the sensitive pinch. Realizing she had hurt him, Winry decided that she needed Ed's help in bringing him to his release. Taking his flesh hand in hers, Winry gently led his fingers to encase hers on his cock, kissing him on the neck when he took her cue and began to move her hand along his erection. He showed her how tightly to hold him, where to squeeze along the throbbing head and how to let her knuckles tease the underside of his scrotum before beginning the erotic movement all over again. As always, Winry was a fast learner and Ed soon found his flesh hand gripping his thigh as Winry worked his body like one of her automail masterpieces.
He didn't hide from her when he came close to the edge, feeling her eyes on him as he bucked into her hand, his teeth grit and lips snarling. He let her see the power she wielded over him, wanted her to view every vulnerable emotion that flashed across his face before his world exploded, and all because of her soft, eager little hand.
Winry couldn't contain her smile as Ed came, entranced by the way his neck muscles tensed and his jaw locked as his mouth opened in a keening whine.
His seed was washed away with the shower water that had become tepid and soothing. Winry held onto Ed as he went soft in her grasp, watching as he trembled from the force of his release. He still hadn't reached out for her, his body sagging against the tiled wall, and so Winry went to him. Laying her head in the nook of his neck and shoulder, Winry waited for Ed to come down from his orgasm, loving the sound of his heart beating and the feel of his breath catching in her bangs. He weakly raised his arms to encircle her body, holding her to him as he relished in the afterglow, and Winry took advantage of his euphoric state and planted soft kisses upon his jaw before reaching for his mouth.
Their kisses were slow and long, a languid way to end a wonderful moment, but also a flammable kindling that could easily start another fire if left to build. Ed added the spark, pressing his tongue into Winry's mouth, stroking her as she had stroked him. He forced her against his body, moaning into her mouth when her pebbled nipples brushed across his chest, the nest of coarse curls at her apex rubbing along his thigh and inviting him to explore what they concealed. He used both of his hands to cup her breasts, mindful of his automail fingers and sure that he didn't bruise the supple flesh. She was warm and heavy in his palm and Ed loved how soft her skin was along his fingertips. He wanted Winry to feel as good as she had made him and when he looked into her darkening blue eyes he saw that she wanted that same explosive release.
Kissing her hard and quick, Ed moved like a lion, dominating the moment and flipping positions with Winry so that she was pressed against the tile wall. He had moved her so that he was facing her back, her spine curved deliciously as her rear end was presented to him like a voluptuous feast. For a moment, Ed entertained the idea of nipping Winry's bottom and leaving a bright red hickey on the pale skin, marking her as his, but the action would only serve his ego and really do nothing for Winry's pleasure.
She was trusting him to bring her back to that stormy precipice he had shown her on the train over a week ago, and Ed refused to leave her disappointed.
He molded his front to her back, giving Winry a moment to feel his weight behind her, his flaccid member tucked snuggled against her cheeks while his nose burrowed in her hair and his teeth nibbled on her ear. He could feel her heartbeat shake through him, her muscles tense as she waited for what he intended to do. Ed smiled, kissing Winry's shoulder as his hands once again found her breasts, folding over her nipples and massaging the soft flesh. He waited until Winry was panting before taking his next daring step.
As his automail hand continued to manipulate Winry's right breast, Ed's flesh hand trekked downwards, brushing through her nether curls before curving inwards and discovering the moist cavern hidden there. Winry gasped, her body jolting forward as she tensed up on her tiptoes, her hands splaying out on the tiled wall as her fingers sought support to grasp.
But there was nothing. Only Ed.
Ed worked his fingers slowly against the soft, wet flesh, tracing Winry's shape as gently as he would stroke the fragile petals of a new spring flower. She was molten hot, and Ed rested his brow on Winry's neck when he found the spot that would make her scream if he pushed two fingers against it and massaged lightly. Every sound that Winry made was a melody to Ed, making him want to beat his chest in male satisfaction that he was making Winry whimper so prettily.
With each stroke of his fingers Winry's bottom would arch and rub against his cock, and soon, Ed was hard again, straining for his simultaneous release with the woman in his arms. Although the thought was all too tempting, he wouldn't enter her, knowing that their actions at the moment were rooted in more than lust and release.
Winry was trusting Ed with her body.
He wouldn't betray her trust in him again.
He could feel she was coming closer to her climax and he wanted to be with her when she fell. Kissing her ear tenderly as an assurance that she didn't have to worry, Ed began to rub himself along her buttocks, the water and remaining soap allowing his cock to easily glide against her skin, creating just enough friction drive him out of his mind. Winry was starting to shake, her body wound so tight that she might expire if she didn't reach her end. And then, Ed slipped one wet finger inside her and the light exploded from behind her eyes.
She yelled his name for all of Paris to hear, her body clamping down on that clever, wriggling digit. The sensation of her orgasm and the sound of his name on her lips as she came was Ed's undoing. He raised his automail hand to link with Winry's against the tile wall, bucking along her rear end only a few times before he came as well, her name ripping from his throat like a long practiced prayer.
France
10. Oct. 28
***
Ed came awake slowly, aware of his body from the toes up. He realized immediately that he was naked, his skin warm under the heavy comforter. His head was cushioned on a lush pillow, his hair damp and clinging to his forehead. There was also the telling tingle of someone close by, their eyes watching him as he slept. Unthreatened, Ed took his time before he opened his eyes, his automail hand reaching out to grope at the body he expected to find beside his own. His seeking fingers found the soft rounded skin of a thigh and he smiled foolishly when he turned to look at the woman who belonged to that delectable limb.
Winry was sitting up in bed, a blanket wrapped securely around her body.
After their blinding pleasure in the shower, Ed had mustered the strength to wrap Winry in a towel and carry her back to her bedroom where they both fell onto the mattress, exhausted and sated. No one had come to disturb the pair, not even for dinner, and it appeared that it was now very late and likely the middle of the night.
The moonlight was enough to outline Winry's slim, luminescent frame, her hair a silver tangle flowing down her back and ribbons of cigar smoke wafting around her head. She had half of a cheroot tucked between her lips and seemed to be lazily lost in thought. Shifting, Ed trailed his automail fingers along the side of her body until he reached her back. He rubbed her lax muscles and waited until she offered him a gentle smile.
"Stressed?" he joked tiredly.
"Nope." Winry answered honestly. "The very opposite, actually."
Taking another drag off of her cigar, Winry offered what was left of the cheroot to Ed, placing the stub between his lips and holding it as he took a few puffs. When he was done, she put the stogie out in an ashtray on the bedside table before resettling against the pillows and shifting closer to Ed.
They were both wide awake, but for the first time in five days they weren't tense disasters when in the other's presence. Winry was very relaxed, her mind clear of the chaotic emotions that had been driving her for the last week. Ed felt sated and comfortable, his choice to be completely open with Winry giving him the releasing freedom to share anything with her.
"You hurt me. When you broke your promise…and that really hurt me." she finally said, shattering the silence in the dark room.
"I know. I'm sorry. I did things, I said things…I'm sorry."
"Did you mean it?" Winry asked turning to look at Ed. "When you said it would be better if you died, did you mean it?"
"I did. To be honest, I'd give my life to save yours or Eddie's, or Al's, or Noa's. I know that upsets you, but that's just how I am. I can't help that." Ed admitted quietly, prepared to accept Winry's frustrated glower, her groan of annoyance or drawn-out, frustrated lecture.
He was relieved and surprised when she did nothing but take his automail hand in hers, flesh curling around metal, fusing together like soul mates.
"That's the most honest thing you've said to me since we were kids." she said with a smile.
"I thought about what you told me, about how I don't trust you. You were right. I mean, when it comes to your automail, I know I couldn't be in better hands, but when it comes to…" Ed struggled for a moment, trying to find the words. Once again, they escaped him, and so he used his actions, taking their joined hands and placing them over his strong, beating heart. "When it comes to this, I wasn't ready to trust you at all. You could really hurt me, Winry, and that's scary."
"You? Scared?" Winry asked, her tone light and her smile beautifully sympathetic. Ed brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it before placing it back on his chest. "It scares me, too." she confessed. "But I was ready to try."
"I am ready to try." Ed insisted gently. "I'm not running away anymore, Win. I don't know what to do to prove that to you."
"Just talk to me." Winry asked, moving so that she was lying alongside Ed. Reclined on her side, she implored him with her big blue eyes to speak.
"I'm not good with words and I probably never will be." Ed began. "I like to do things my way and I hate negotiating. I don't take criticism well, Al will tell you I'm usually grumpy, and I have trouble staying in one place for very long. I probably need a good kick in the ass, or a beating with a wrench."
"I think I can handle that." Winry teased.
"I'll never want it any other way." Ed replied seriously. "I've done things I'd rather you not know about. I've killed people, in our world and in this one. When I was first stuck on this side of the Gate I was scared and really lonely…I lost my virginity to a woman whose name I can't remember. She sort of reminded me of you, blond and pretty with a bit of a temper. She was willing, I was drunk, and it seemed like good way to stop feeling so terrible. I missed you every time I looked at my arm and leg and when you suddenly showed up…well, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I'm still not too sure. I just know that when you said goodbye to me…that lonely feeling came back. I…I can't not have you in my life, Winry. I need you, and its got nothing to do with the automail. It's you."
Winry smiled, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. Instead, she cuddled close to Ed and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"Thank you." she whispered, her mouth brushing over his with each word she spoke. "You have no idea how much you mean to me. I have no words. It scares me that one person has so much influence on me. It's like I don't have any control when it comes to you and I know I'd probably be better off if I could learn to hate you...and I can't hate you."
She caressed his face then, her fingers trailing along his brow and cheek, finally coming to rest on his lips. Ed kissed her fingertips, silently urging her to continue.
"These last five days have been worse than the last five years. You hurt me, and we have so many problems to work out," she sighed heavily, "but I need to be with you, too. I know that I'd rather be angry and hurt with you than be angry and hurt without you."
"I'll take that." Ed said quietly, moving to kiss Winry's brow. "The night that you found me in the bunker, you said something about thinking it would be easier. What did you mean?"
"Loving you." she answered immediately, a soft lilt of pain in her voice. "But loving you has never been the hard part. Being with you is the real challenge."
She chuckled then and Ed joined her, appreciating the humor of their strange, hopeful and hopeless situation. Was it always so complex when you were in love, or were Ed and Winry just the exception? In truth, the only time that the course of their feelings became stormy was when they were not standing together on even ground. Lying together in bed, side by side, stripped of all barriers, clothing, anger and shame, and exposing the deepest secrets of their hearts, Edward and Winry couldn't have been more equivalent.
"I love you." Ed declared, his voice low and strong. It was the first time he had ever admitted the words aloud and he said them with great strength. Winry didn't doubt Ed's sentiment and offered him her prettiest smile before tucking her head under his chin.
Ed wrapped his arm around her shoulders and basked in the sweet sensation of her body close to his. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I'm sorry I hurt you." Winry whispered back.
They fell quiet for a long time, not asleep, just resting and letting the warmth of their reconciliation wrap around them.
"We should get married." Ed suddenly announced, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. Winry didn't stiffen in his embrace nor did she shove him out of the bed. Instead, she chuckled lightly.
"We are the last two people in this world and our own who should get married." she quipped.
"Maybe, but we've already figured we're pretty useless without each other, so let's get married."
"Are you seriously proposing to me?" Winry wondered a bit sharply as she turned to stare at the dimple in Ed's chin. He moved to look down at her and Winry was honestly taken aback by the sincerity that glowed like an ember in the heart of Ed's golden eyes.
"Win…that's the question, isn't it? Eddie told me that if I asked you a question you'd say 'yes'."
"Well yeah, but you're supposed to ask me right." Winry argued.
"And what's right?"
"After a date, on your knees, with a ring! Not naked in bed right after we had a big fight." Winry said.
"You mean not naked in bed after you jerked me off and I gave you the best orgasm of your life." Ed teased, nipping at Winry's ear before pulling her to straddle him. The bunched up blankets kept the flesh of their lower bodies from touching, but there was a teasing heat that made Winry shiver as her thighs encased Ed's hips. The sheet she had been using to conceal her breasts fell, leaving her exposed to Ed's appreciative gaze. Her nipples hardened instantly when he took his time to rove over her curves before his golden eyes met hers. He lifted his head to kiss her on the mouth, long and lazily, tugging on her bottom lip before he pecked at her chin and jaw, finally settling on her neck. He used his teeth to scrape against the sensitive skin, unrelenting in his assault until Winry was limp in his arms. She fell against his chest, the feeling of her breasts rubbing along him making him moan and almost forget why he was trying to seduce her in the first place. "Say you'll marry me." he demanded huskily.
"Not fair." Winry wined.
"You told Eddie you'd say 'yes'. So say it."
"Ed…" Winry moaned when he began to suckle on her earlobe, his teeth barely nicking the skin as his hands rubbed along her back, moving lower to squeeze her bottom.
"Say it." he urged again.
His breath tickled her ear and Winry found it was impossible to think of an argument when his fingers were kneading her bottom so deliciously, purposely grinding her against the growing bulge between his legs.
"I swear, I won't make love to you unless we're married, so you'd better say it." Ed growled, leaving her ear to mark a trail along the side of her neck, her shoulder, until he was facing what was left of the bruise that was a hard reminder of just how close he had come to losing her. As gently as if he was handling an infant, Ed nuzzled the yellow spot with his nose, allowing his lips to brush over it in a slow series of butterfly kisses.
"Tell me you love me." Winry gasped.
"I love you. Tell me you'll marry me." Ed answered without hesitation. Lifting his head from her bruise, Ed ceased his seduction and pulled back so that he could see Winry's face. She was flushed, her breathing rapid, mouth open, and her eyes sparkling like dark forest lakes. There was no argument in her eyes, no uncertainty or distrust or fear.
Just adoration.
"I'll marry you, Ed."
And they kissed, sealing the proposal and their future.
I hear wedding bells!
No seriously, I hear wedding bells. Like in the next chapter. That's right readers, it's a shotgun wedding for Ed and Winry. So, after all of the turmoil and drama and angst I put you through in the last several chapters, we're finally getting a bit of closure with Ed and Winry's relationship. Now, I know it might seem like our crazy lovebirds are rushing into things but, as Ed said, Winry was always going to say 'yes' so why wait? And yes, they have issues (major issues) but once again, they're in it for the long run, so they can work out the kinks on the way.
Eddie's going to be so happy!
So, do the clues make sense now? Like I said, Vic Mignogna's song inspired the title and theme of this chapter and if you go to .es you'll see the fanart that also influenced me while I wrote.
And now, for something not very different, a word to my anonymous reviewers:
roseofsharon28: I'm so happy you liked the children. I gotta confess, it was hard to let them go, but I know that they need to fly free. And, as always, this has been your update. I hope you enjoyed it!
Shingmei: Guess I had you fooled a bit. I mean, at the time Winry made the announcement, she was in a pretty terrible state and really did mean it, but given the chance to calm down and properly reflect, she's obviously changed her mind. Hope you've liked this last chapter and I look forward to hearing from you again!
Twin_Alchemist: I'm so glad you liked it. I hope you also enjoyed the EdxEddie scenes at the beginning of this chapter. It was a lot of fun to write their day out. I hope you haven't gone insane! Thanks!
And finally, something that I am particularly tickled about. Don't Forget has reached over 500 reviews. And, it's earned almost 30,000 hits. Can you believe it? I'm not sure I believe it! Thank you all so much! To every reader who has left a review, discussed the fic, accessed it on purpose or by accident or who just wanted to see what all the fuss was about…thank you. I am very humbled and honored and just so happy. You guys and gals have done some amazing things for Don't Forget. Everyone gets a bear hug!
And now, I say we go for 600! Please, if you've liked this chapter, let me know. And if you've only just joined Don't Forget, welcome aboard and let me know your thoughts so far.
As usual, no flames, please and thank you!
My greatest, deepest, most sincere thanks and appreciation.
Giant Nickel