Disclaimers: I don't own FMA.

A/N: Edward's POV. (Any typos, please excuse.)

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Physical Attraction

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She was still wearing her black slip-on shoes, without socks. She hadn't taken them off yet. We had gone directly to her room.

My eyes slid up her opalescent, long legs, past her bent knees and to her lap. Her skirt, when she sat down, barely reached her mid-thighs. The book rested half in her lap and half in mine. She was reading aloud, her finger following every word as she spoke it naturally and calmly – strongly contradicting what I could see on her face and in her eyes.

She was nervous but she was willing. And she wanted to.

My gaze hopped over her lap and on to her waist. She was wearing a skirt, I knew that much – and when she had been walking around I had seen what all was on it. It was a plaid cotton skirt with denim pockets on the back, snapping in front with a black clasp. When she was standing up it moved along with her legs and the curves of her body easily and cooperatively, and her plain white T-shirt hugged tightly all the way down to her hips. Her hair was out of its normal ponytail, pigtail, or half-back; it hung loosely and smoothly to her shoulder blades, a black barrette holding some hair out of the corners of her eyes. Her bangs were curly wisps that dusted her black lashes and hid her anxious, fiery eyes from me as she read.

What Winry was reading, I don't know. It was going in one ear and out the other.

Because I had never really looked at her body like this before.

She was so pretty. And, I guess, whenever someone joked around and said Oh man she is sexy!, that was what she was.

She was hot.

Her face was still innocent and childish, her cheeks round and smooth, her lips cupid-bow perfect and pink, and her eyes wide. The expression on her face was always begging me for something, always bubbly, but hiding the pleading that went on when she tugged on my hand. Pleading for more.

At some points she was so young and playful, and then when we were alone, she was so…I don't know. Older. Hotter. She was so concentrated in reading the book to me, all about How You Have Sex When You're Not Supposed To (I had already laughed at it and she told me to be serious and I told her I was), she didn't notice my eyes moving all over her body.

Or maybe she did, but didn't let me know she knew.

Her legs were longer than I'd remembered, thinner, smoother-looking. Her fingers were tiny and her hands delicate, and her arms were slender and she hugged me so much tighter than before. I tried to keep myself from looking there, but I couldn't help it.

HER BOOBS GOT BIGGER TOO

They were rounder and bigger and sometimes they bounced when she walked or ran. And I couldn't help but look there; I swear I couldn't. And sometimes I would look down near her crotch too, and wonder what it would feel like if she were rubbing on me.

And then I'd get kind of happy down there and I'd be embarrassed and pissed off at myself.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" she squealed, jerking me out of my (not really) stealthy trance. I blinked a few times, snapping my gaze up to meet her fierce one, breaking into a sheepish grin.

"Yuh, I'm listening, no worries, Winry."

"No you're not! What did I just say?"

"You just accused me of not listening."

Winry huffed an angry breath and looked back to the book. "Do you want to do this or not, Ed?"

"Um. Yeah. I do."

"Then listen to me!" She snuck a glance towards me, pouting severely. Her eyes were begging me again.

So I gave in.

"Okay. Okay, okay," I mumbled, moving closer, winding my arm around her waist. I shifted my legs to make a better table for the book. She pointed to a paragraph and said,

"Read that."

I did.

The causes of human sexual arousal are sundry and, by nature, subjective, always arising from natural urges but otherwise spanning the scope of human or cultural desires from love and mere attraction to the obscure. Certain aspects of what is sexually attractive to humans may differ amongst particular cultures or regions. Influencing factors may be determined more locally among sub-cultures or simply by the preferences of the individual. These preferences come about as a result of a variety of genetic, psychological, and cultural factors. The sexual attraction of one person to another depends on both people. Sexual attraction generally starts at the age of 9, sexual orientation on the other hand does not start until sexual glands mature. Much of human sexual attractiveness is governed by physical attractiveness. This involves the impact one's appearance has on the senses, especially in the beginning of a relationship:

Visual Perception (how the other looks);

Olfaction (how the other smells, naturally or artificially; the wrong smell may be repulsive);

Audition (how the other's voice and/or movements sound).

I slowly lifted my gaze and stared directly at her. She was looking back at me curiously, her face a little flushed. I wanted to ask her, CAN YOU FUCKING READ MY MIND? But I didn't.

She giggled manically and my heart skipped a beat. I had a feeling she was about to ask a very personal question, just to make me get embarrassed. Or for her to find something out about me.

And I thought I had an idea just what she was going to ask.

"What that said a page back, about…getting hard, Ed? Do you get hard?" She grinned at me, a grin that made me think of a sadistic torture mistress from some macabre story I'd found in the library.

I snapped the book shut and stared at her with a sharp scowl and narrowed eyes.

"What kind of question is that?" I barked, and my voice squeaked more than once. My face was heating up. I didn't like it.

"I just wanna know!" Winry cried, letting out a bubbly but EVIL cackle, throwing her arms around my neck and leaning on me, pressing her nose into my cheek. I shook my head rapidly, trying to free myself from her grip. She knocked me over sideways and we almost fell off the bed as I howled and she giggled.

The jollity ended, though, when she nosed into my ear and said softly, "Edward…I like that."

I froze.

My glower disappeared.

I knew that I must have looked utterly startled, completely nervous, and a little pleased, but I couldn't change any of that.

She looked over at me through her lashes, her lips parted and still brushing my ear. I shivered. I frowned and flicked my eyes elsewhere. I wrapped my arms around her waist and scooted to the side, pulling us away from the edge of the mattress. The blankets were twisted beneath us. The book had fallen to the floor.

"What do you mean, you like that?" I mumbled, my voice not as demanding as I'd wanted it to be. Winry pressed herself against me hard, her breasts smashed against my chest. I slowly slid my eyes to the side to peer at her from the corner of my vision.

"That…makes me happy." She looked at me with a seriousness that was so alluring at the same time it made me crazy. My stomach jerked and my heart hopped into my throat. At some point I'd shove her off me because I wasn't going to let her feel me get hard.

Not yet, at least.

"Happy?" I grunted instead, squeaking again.

"Yeah. If…" She bit her lip and traced a hand up the side of my face, then moved it to my lips, smoothing her fingertip along my lower one gently. Her voice fell to a whisper and I forgot to move her off me. I could feel myself stiffening but I was frozen in place, gaping into her eyes, charmed by what I saw and felt and I was stuck, unable to say anything, unable to move, only able to stare at her and love her more and more in every way as the seconds passed.

"If," she said again, low, "you get turned on by me…like that, then that makes me really happy. Because I know that you really, really love me, in both ways. I know that you love me sexually, and you love me…well, whatever other ways there are!" She paused and moved her finger, landing a sweet kiss on my open mouth.

"And," she added, squirming around on top of me. Her skirt slid up slightly and I could feel the warmth of her crotch on mine. My cheeks glowed hotter.

She could feel me.

Yup.

Definitely.

And she knew that I knew she could feel it.

Great.

"And," she said again, smiling slyly from just inches away from my face, "I'm glad that I make you hard like that. I wanna make you happy. I wanna make you happier than just hard. I wanna be your first."

I pushed my face up roughly and pressed my lips to hers. I felt and heard her gasp, and then I jerked my body upwards and she rolled off me; I rolled over on top of her in the same movement, without taking my mouth off hers. Her fingers curled on the back of my T-shirt and she started to kiss me faster, hungrier.

I don't know how the knowledge came to me, but it did.

Maybe it's something that's just built into guys.

I don't know.

But at that moment, I knew exactly what I was supposed to do.

What I wanted to do.