FMA Fic: Season of War: A Time to Reap
The train rattled along the tracks, the lonely whistle wailing from the locomotive and Edward nodded awake, his head swaying slightly from the motion of the car. He yawned, Alphonse’s, “Careful, Brother. You’ll hit Winry,” stopping his stretch midway with a squeak.
The last few hours tumbled in his mind and Ed straightened in his seat, glancing towards the window. A murky haze greeted him, the train hurtling on through a morning fog. Pursing his mouth, Ed scowled at the glass, at the condensation formed on it. Cold seeped in and next to him, Winry shivered in her sleep, turning slightly away from the window, a little frown creasing her forehead.
“I think I’m making her colder,” Alphonse said quietly. “I’ll go find her a blanket.”
Before Ed could protest, his brother rose from the bench, moving down the aisle. Snapping his mouth shut, Ed glanced down at Winry. She shivered again, gooseflesh rising on her bare legs. With a grumble, Ed slipped out of his long jacket, laying it over her. Winry made a little sound, squirming deeper into the warmth, the frown sliding away to be replaced by a faint smile. She moved in her sleep again, tilting into him, her head landing on his shoulder so each breath brushed against his throat.
Ed tensed but Winry slept on, a soft purring sound coming from her as she snuggled closer. Something warm and soft pressed into his arm and Ed flushed hot at the realization that Winry’s breast was touching him. Shifting slightly in his seat, Ed tried rolling his shoulder, hoping that she might move again, move away from him because the feel of her breath on his skin and that…softness…and his new awareness of what that particular part of her body felt like was having an effect on him that Ed had never actually reckoned on. Oh, sure, he knew all about…urges. Not like he hadn’t woken in the morning with a hard on that meant he had to either lie there until it subsided or do something about it and it was usually quicker - and not to mention, pleasurable, in a guilty sort of way - to resolve the problem rather than wait it out. But this was Winry his body was reacting to and Ed was sure that had to be all kinds of wrong, despite the fact that she was a girl, he was a boy and girls and boys did…things together.
But not on a train where anyone could see them, he argued with himself mentally. A groan almost escaped Ed as Winry shifted again, his red coat sliding away from her thighs. The movement dragged his eyes right down to her legs and the way that her skirt was pulled to the side because it was caught on his jacket. Damn it, if he didn’t get out from under her - and Ed’s eyes widened again at the unfortunate choice of words and accompanying images his brain supplied him with - there was going to be a bigger problem. “Winry,” he said through gritted teeth, joggling her head on his shoulder. “Winry, wake up.” How she could sleep with all this going on was beyond him; a phone call in the middle of the fucking night with Hughes telling them to get out of Amestris? Ed conveniently ignored that until a few minutes ago, he’d been sleeping, too, running through what Hughes had said again, hoping against hope that the stark words of homunculi and death and the Philosopher’s Stone would have the opposite reaction on his cock that Winry’s body was currently alchemizing, all on its own.
As if to spite him, she took a deep breath and let it out again, the sound of his name carried on her exhalation. Oh, fuckity fuck fuck, he thought, squirming sideways, this wasn’t happening and it couldn’t be, not now, though his body wasn’t paying any attention to what his brain was telling it. Not to mention it was getting harder to think about anything beyond what Winry’s hair smelled like - lavender and vanilla? - and how cute she looked when she slept and - oh hell - the way her tongue flicked out over her lower lip. Ed swallowed, forcing his right hand to come up to Winry’s shoulder, clasping it but the problem was he froze, his mind telling his hand to push her away and his cock insisting he pull her closer, preferably onto his lap and to hell with propriety.
Ed wasn’t sure how long he sat there, mind and body in such conflict with each other when Alphonse’s voice rumbled out, “Brother?” in such a questioning way that Ed managed to break away from Winry. He didn’t even let Al get out the obvious, “I found the blanket,” before he was on his feet, sweeping his jacket up and around himself, careful to make sure that everything was covered up, all his little - damn it, not little! - sins were concealed by the sway of the coat. “Are you all right?” Al sounded maybe more concerned than he should.
“Fine,” Ed said gruffly, “just need to go to the lavatory,” and hoped that his face and ears weren’t as bright red as they felt.
“Oh,” Alphonse said, and then, “oh!” in a completely different tone and Ed jolted to a halt at that second exclamation. “Well, Brother, make sure to use your left hand this time.”
With a growl that would’ve been a full out cussing match had he not really, really needed to get to the lavatory and take care of some business, Edward made his way down the swaying car and out of it, leaving his laughing brother behind him.
Winry sat up, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “What’s going on?” she asked sleepily, blinking at Al.
He handed her the blanket. “You’ll have to ask Brother,” Alphonse said, far too cheerful, Winry thought, for it being this early in the morning. “Even if it is a little hard for him to talk about.”
* * *
The last few hours tumbled in his mind and Ed straightened in his seat, glancing towards the window. A murky haze greeted him, the train hurtling on through a morning fog. Pursing his mouth, Ed scowled at the glass, at the condensation formed on it. Cold seeped in and next to him, Winry shivered in her sleep, turning slightly away from the window, a little frown creasing her forehead.
“I think I’m making her colder,” Alphonse said quietly. “I’ll go find her a blanket.”
Before Ed could protest, his brother rose from the bench, moving down the aisle. Snapping his mouth shut, Ed glanced down at Winry. She shivered again, gooseflesh rising on her bare legs. With a grumble, Ed slipped out of his long jacket, laying it over her. Winry made a little sound, squirming deeper into the warmth, the frown sliding away to be replaced by a faint smile. She moved in her sleep again, tilting into him, her head landing on his shoulder so each breath brushed against his throat.
Ed tensed but Winry slept on, a soft purring sound coming from her as she snuggled closer. Something warm and soft pressed into his arm and Ed flushed hot at the realization that Winry’s breast was touching him. Shifting slightly in his seat, Ed tried rolling his shoulder, hoping that she might move again, move away from him because the feel of her breath on his skin and that…softness…and his new awareness of what that particular part of her body felt like was having an effect on him that Ed had never actually reckoned on. Oh, sure, he knew all about…urges. Not like he hadn’t woken in the morning with a hard on that meant he had to either lie there until it subsided or do something about it and it was usually quicker - and not to mention, pleasurable, in a guilty sort of way - to resolve the problem rather than wait it out. But this was Winry his body was reacting to and Ed was sure that had to be all kinds of wrong, despite the fact that she was a girl, he was a boy and girls and boys did…things together.
But not on a train where anyone could see them, he argued with himself mentally. A groan almost escaped Ed as Winry shifted again, his red coat sliding away from her thighs. The movement dragged his eyes right down to her legs and the way that her skirt was pulled to the side because it was caught on his jacket. Damn it, if he didn’t get out from under her - and Ed’s eyes widened again at the unfortunate choice of words and accompanying images his brain supplied him with - there was going to be a bigger problem. “Winry,” he said through gritted teeth, joggling her head on his shoulder. “Winry, wake up.” How she could sleep with all this going on was beyond him; a phone call in the middle of the fucking night with Hughes telling them to get out of Amestris? Ed conveniently ignored that until a few minutes ago, he’d been sleeping, too, running through what Hughes had said again, hoping against hope that the stark words of homunculi and death and the Philosopher’s Stone would have the opposite reaction on his cock that Winry’s body was currently alchemizing, all on its own.
As if to spite him, she took a deep breath and let it out again, the sound of his name carried on her exhalation. Oh, fuckity fuck fuck, he thought, squirming sideways, this wasn’t happening and it couldn’t be, not now, though his body wasn’t paying any attention to what his brain was telling it. Not to mention it was getting harder to think about anything beyond what Winry’s hair smelled like - lavender and vanilla? - and how cute she looked when she slept and - oh hell - the way her tongue flicked out over her lower lip. Ed swallowed, forcing his right hand to come up to Winry’s shoulder, clasping it but the problem was he froze, his mind telling his hand to push her away and his cock insisting he pull her closer, preferably onto his lap and to hell with propriety.
Ed wasn’t sure how long he sat there, mind and body in such conflict with each other when Alphonse’s voice rumbled out, “Brother?” in such a questioning way that Ed managed to break away from Winry. He didn’t even let Al get out the obvious, “I found the blanket,” before he was on his feet, sweeping his jacket up and around himself, careful to make sure that everything was covered up, all his little - damn it, not little! - sins were concealed by the sway of the coat. “Are you all right?” Al sounded maybe more concerned than he should.
“Fine,” Ed said gruffly, “just need to go to the lavatory,” and hoped that his face and ears weren’t as bright red as they felt.
“Oh,” Alphonse said, and then, “oh!” in a completely different tone and Ed jolted to a halt at that second exclamation. “Well, Brother, make sure to use your left hand this time.”
With a growl that would’ve been a full out cussing match had he not really, really needed to get to the lavatory and take care of some business, Edward made his way down the swaying car and out of it, leaving his laughing brother behind him.
Winry sat up, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “What’s going on?” she asked sleepily, blinking at Al.
He handed her the blanket. “You’ll have to ask Brother,” Alphonse said, far too cheerful, Winry thought, for it being this early in the morning. “Even if it is a little hard for him to talk about.”
* * *