Title: Unhappenings #K
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Summary: Winry slipped from the bath, wondering if she still smelled strongly of the oil she'd been using while repairing a soldier's automail.
Notes: The 'Unhappenings' series is roughly based on a series of prompts yoinked from a FMA prompt generator. They're often far to the left of canon and completely unrelated - most of the time. Prompt: Automail, Bath, Bellybutton
Winry slipped from the bath, wondering if she still smelled strongly of the oil she'd been using while repairing a soldier's automail. She didn't exactly support the Amestrian military, but her contract with them was only for a year and it did give her an excellent chance to showcase her skill.
Naked, she stepped from the bathroom and stretched. The soldier hadn't been able to control the spasm that had made his arm crack against the oil can. And Winry hadn't meant to get doused. She looked at her midsection in the mirror, happy that she didn't seem to have any bruises despite the can striking near her belly-button. Not that bruises meant much to her. She wore a uniform these days anyway - it was in her contract. And while it was a little more constricting, it wasn't terrible.
However, she needed something else to wear, since her clothing was now balled in a pile near the door to send out to be washed.
If she would have returned to her own apartment, she wouldn't have had any trouble. But being in Riza's place, well, a few of her things were around, but those were mainly jackets and socks. Riza wasn't much taller than she was. And her boots were still okay.
Twisting her hair back, she pinned it like Riza did before catching her reflection in the mirror again. Not too bad.
She heard the key turn in the lock. Riza had returned. Winry skipped into the main room and tried to push her putrid discarded clothing a little closer to the corner. She hoped it wasn't leaving a stain.
"Hey," Winry said as she smiled. "I..."
"I looked for you. They said you'd left early to take a bath," Riza interrupted. She looked Winry over and smiled.
"Oil," Winry stated, pointing at the pile. "I promise I'll take that down to the laundry as soon as I get my shoes on."
"You're wearing my clothing," Riza noted. "And your hair..."
"Think they'll mistake me for you?" Winry asked. "I'd need a gun."
Riza kissed her. Winry kissed back, letting the question go as Riza reached up to unpin Winry's hair.
Winry returned the motion, feeling Riza's hair fluff downward in slight curls after being pinned up all day. She slid a hand down, along the curve of Riza's lower back until she could get her hand up under Riza's dark shirt.
"I know, I know, you just got in the door." She always laughed when boys could never figure out how to unhook a bra. It was just as easy on someone else as it was doing it on her own body. Getting Riza out of uniform wasn't particularly hard.
Keeping her out of it... sometimes she wondered just how few pieces of civilian clothing Riza owned. It made gifts easy to pick out, however.
With Riza's mouth against hers again, Winry kept going, undoing similar buttons and zippers to the ones she'd just done up on her own outfit. She wondered if Riza would stop and protest as pants slipped downward, revealing something with just a bit more lace than anything military-issued.
"No wonder the colonel always wanted you in a miniskirt," Winry commented almost without thinking. But they didn't have that sort of relationship - he and Riza were much more like siblings than lovers. Time had sorted that out. Just like time had sorted Winry the key to Riza's apartment and the chance to slip fingers beneath lace to find damp wamrth.
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