Disclaimers: I don't own FMA.

BUT I WOULD OWN A POCKET WATCH IF SOMEONE HADN'T TAKEN IT APART YET!!!

GOD.

Fucking TECHNOLOGICAL GEEKS.

A/N: Winry's POV. (Any typos, please excuse. x3 What's with the song titles! Oh no! Title © From First to Last. I couldn't resist? And thank you to for the little snippet from the Adolescents and Sex chapter. :D)

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Kiss Me, I'm Contagious

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I ducked my head and shrugged off my satchel backpack. I had attached a picture of us to the front near the clasp with a safety-pin. Edward had made fun of it but when we were alone he'd said it was cool. As I closed the door behind me, I bit my lip and looked at my bag.

He sat down on the bed and slumped forward, watching me with a petulant frown, his default expression and mood. "What did you wanna show me? From the library, right?"

"Yeah!" I said, brightening up and dropping to a crouch in front of my bag. My fingers were shaking and I prayed to god that he didn't see it; I unclasped my bag and threw the flap up, pulling on the snaps and opening up the center of my bag. I reached in and glanced up at him, pausing and smiling and giggling.

"What?" I said, grinning at him. He blinked a few times, his scowl disappearing and his face looking untroubled for the first time in a long time.

"Nothing," he grunted. "Go on, slow-poke."

"Shut up!" I squealed, yanking the smaller of the books out. His eyes followed it intently. I pushed it behind me so that he couldn't see it. "Hold on, hold on. You'll see in a minute."

I pulled out the second book and then gathered them both, front cover away from him, against my chest. Standing up slowly, I looked at him through my eyelashes. The pit of my stomach coiled up nervously and I felt my heart starting to race again. He stared at me, blankly, calmly, frigging stupidly. I huffed a sigh and stepped over in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. It made my knees weak and I wanted to sit down before I fell down, but I fought it. I hugged the books tight to my breasts and made my face look more serious than it was nervous.

"I'm going to make you happy," I said, keeping my voice level and determined so he would know I was formal. "And I'm not completely sure how I'm supposed to do it, so I'm going to need your help. But I'm not going to be afraid and I don't want you to be either."

His brows furrowed and he looked a little worried up at me, as if he really could not figure out what I meant. I smiled faintly; my own brow knitted downwards, and I set the books, face down, onto the bedding beside him. I leaned down and put my hands on his thighs to steady myself, craning my neck so that I was barely an inch or two away from him. He stared at me, for once quiet.

"Will you help me?" I murmured, peering out at him as some hair fell over my shoulder, my fingers tightening on his denim-clad legs. I hoped he could see in my face how pleading I was getting, how much I wanted to, how much I loved him – because at the moment the words were bubbling out of my heart but dying in my throat.

I almost screamed when he startled me and ran his hand up my arm. He gawked at me, his lips kind of open, his eyes slit in the same cat-eyed expression he wore so often, but his irises burned with the words that I couldn't get out of my mouth. I relaxed, sighing through my nose. He snaked his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I let him tug me onto his lap and I straddled my knees on his hips. He was sliding off the bed a little because (unfortunately for him and for me sometimes) he was just a little bit smaller than me.

"Edward," I whispered, pressing my cheek against his, looking towards the books. "I wanna show you what I got from the library, okay?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into my neck as I reached for them. For a moment I froze, my heart pausing for probably three seconds before starting again, and then I smiled, looked at him, and ran my finger along the curves of his open mouth. The feel of his mass against me, warm and firm, his arms tight and secure around my sides – I pulled the book between our stomachs and he tugged me forward as he tilted back to lay on the bed.

Edward took one arm off of me and grabbed the book like it were a piece of clothing, discarding it near my pillow and then taking my face in his palm. A tiny whimper came out of my lips and I looked at him, a little nervous, but he just smiled, pulling my face down and closing his mouth on mine. We kissed for a few moments, softly, hungrily, tongues brushing now and again, before I pulled away and climbed off of him. He folded his arms under his head casually and looked after me, sadly, like he was really upset that I had left his mouth.

"Hold on." I giggled at the mock gloom on his face.

"Whatever," he mumbled, kicking his legs a few times and making the mattress of my bed bounce. I sat down beside his bent knees and picked up the book he'd thrown, flipping it to a certain page. Then, not daring to look at him for fear of freezing up and just doing something, I started to read aloud.

" 'Physical maturation resulting from puberty leads to an interest in sexual activities. Both boys and girls are now "entering puberty at least two years earlier than previous generations. This means they are ready for sex earlier physically, but not emotionally or cognitively." All "teens have sexual lives, whether with others or through fantasies." Sexuality "is a vital aspect of teens' lives. The question is whether they are going to have healthy experiences, at any or every level of sexual activity." Increasingly, teenage sexual encounters do not occur in the context of a romantic relationship, but in an impersonal, merely sexual "hook up".' "

I glanced over my shoulder, knowing for sure that my expression was troubled. "That's…from the chapter called 'Adolescents and Sex'. Ed…we…" I felt myself wanting to cry but I tried not to. I started to tremble as he sat up, looking at me, concerned.

"What?" he asked, his voice low, worried. "What, Winry? What?"

I snapped the book shut, swallowing adamantly. "We're not just a…a hook-up, right?" The world started to get blurry and I hunched forward, squeezing my eyes shut and trying hard to stop the tears from coming. I didn't want to cry – I really didn't. But it wasn't something that I could control anymore. And the more that I thought about what I'd just read, the more I…started to get nervous.

"How can you ask that?" he cried, his voice rising. I flinched and even let out a pathetic whimper.

"How?" he demanded. I snuck a glance at him and he was staring at me, startled and afraid and fretful. "Do you not think…that we're meant to be? Do you not trust that I love you?"

"No!" I shrieked, throwing the book to the side and hunching away from him, holding my head and sniffling, wiping at my eyes frantically. The urge to cry had already disappeared. It was like some bratty little sibling, one that runs in, makes a mess, then leaves while cackling at your frustration. "No," I repeated, turning and staring right into his eyes, no matter how hard it was.

He recoiled, and I saw him swallow. Edward drew his legs up into criss-cross style, slumping forward with his hands in his lap. He frowned deeply.

"That's not true," he mumbled. "That crap isn't true."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know that, I…I just got scared all of a sudden, I – "

"Get the book."

I tensed up, blinking, peering at him with wide eyes. "Hunh?" I sniffled again.

"Get the book. We're gonna figure out what we're supposed to do and I swear to fucking god I'm gonna make it the best ever. I'm gonna make you like it. I'm gonna make you like it a lot. I'm gonna show you how much I love you."

A shiver made its way down my spine. I was frozen in spot. My legs and my arms were shaking. I gawked at him, mouth shut, eyes wide, wide, wide, feeling my face heat up and my stomach knotting worse and my heart pounding volubly.

ThumpTHUMP. ThumpTHUMP. ThumpTHUMP.

"Get the book," he said again, levelly, staring at me with eyes that were burning.

I leaned over and took the book off my blankets again, handing it to him quietly. I couldn't swallow. I was feeling…weird between my legs again. Tighter. Excited. Oh. Yeah. I was frigging excited. I wanted to laugh and scream and cry at the same time while I felt him on top of me, doing everything to me, feeling his mouth and tongue and teeth and fingers and chest and breath.

He flipped it back open to the chapter about adolescents and then looked at me with a mischievous spark spreading across his eyes. I knew he was serious. I could feel it as well as see it.

"Listen to me, Winry."
"I'm listening."

He moved closer to me so we could read at the same time.

"I love you."
"I love you too."

Edward opened up to a page with diagrams and explanations, the second page of the chapter.

"We're going to do this, now."

"Now."

He ran his finger down the paragraphs until it talked about intercourse between juveniles.
"No hesitations."

"None."

He turned his gaze up to meet mine, solemn and steady and burning with passion.

"No fear."

"No fear."

He kissed me, hard and soft at the same time.

"Now, and it's gonna be awesome."

"Very awesome."

He twisted around and slid a hand down my thigh. "I love you," he whispered against my cheek, keeping his eyes on mine.

"Read the book," I told him.