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The universe (or God or Truth or whatever-the-fuck) just loved to throw Edward curveballs. Just once, Ed would like to see a touchdown without being tackled or fouled or sabotaged somehow. It was so ridiculous he was thinking in sports metaphors. Ed didn't know a damn thing about sports!
What he did know was that his face was very close to Ling's face. They were pressed into a shadowy alcove between two buildings, not quite touching but it was a near thing. Ed was out of breath from running, and he could feel the warm puffs of Ling’s breath against his bangs. Somewhere nearby, military police were shouting, searching for them. Because curveballs.
Ling had come from out of nowhere when the MPs had tried to grab Ed, and if he hadn't, Ed wasn't sure he would've gotten away so cleanly.
“Hi,” whispered Ling.
“Hi,” Ed whispered back, rendered stupid by Ling’s smile. The greeting should have felt redundant, but they hadn't spoken in a couple days now, and Ed found himself gratified by it.
Ling's smile widened, and he pressed a finger to his lips to indicate silence. They were wedged so close that his hand brushed Ed's sleeve on the way up.
They waited for the sounds of yelling and booted footsteps to recede, quietly catching their breath in the cold afternoon air.
When Ed figured it was probably safe, he went to step out of the alcove, only to be stopped by Ling's hand on his chest. He glanced down at the ouroboros tattoo, then quickly up at Ling's face.
"Better to stay another few minutes," Ling advised in a quiet voice as he gently pushed Ed back against the wall. Ed went without resistance, and his spine tingled where it met stone. "There's not enough people around to blend in. If they double back they'll see us right away."
"Right," Ed muttered, disgruntled. Ling's hand fell away and Ed crossed his arms over his chest to replace it.
Ling leaned against his own wall and looked at Ed curiously.
"...Thanks for the save, by the way," Ed grumbled. His feathers were still a little ruffled over the situation, but he was big enough to admit things could have been a lot hairier if the idiot prince hadn't shown up when he did. “I owe you one. Naturally.”
“Naturally,” Ling echoed, and his mouth did a funny little twitch that Ed couldn’t read. Was it amusement? Disdain?
Ed fixed him with an evaluating look. Ling was so inscrutable at times, especially compared to Greed, who was a damn open book. How the same face could be capable of such drastically different emotional profiles would never stop being fascinating, Ed thought. That was definitely the only reason Ed caught himself staring at Ling whenever he was actually around. Not because the fluid ease with which he moved drew Ed’s gaze like a magnet to a pole. Not because his laugh sounded like ringing bells, high and clear and pleasant when put against Greed’s obnoxious crowing. Ed’s fascination was purely scientific. Definitely.
"It's not like you to be so distracted," Ling said, throwing Ed for a loop. See, this was what he meant. Predicting Ling's conversational trajectory was like trying to solve an equation with only half the variables; doable with significant trial-and-error.
"What do you mean?" Ed asked, frowning.
"I was watching you from the rooftop -- or, Greed was -- and you should have noticed those officers way sooner; they weren't especially discreet."
Ed looked down at the ground, frown tugging harder at the corners of his mouth. Ling was right, he should've been paying more attention to his surroundings, it was stupid to get so distracted right in the middle of a market, but, well. "It's my birthday tomorrow," Ed admitted. "I knew it was coming up but I didn't realise it was so soon. When I saw the date on the newspapers it caught me off guard."
"Really? I wish I’d known earlier. If we weren’t about to flee the city like fugitives I would have gotten you a gift."
Ed scoffed quietly. "You don’t need to get me anything, it’s fine."
"Is it fine?" Ling asked, shrewd. Maybe Ed wasn't doing a good enough job hiding his unhappiness, or maybe Ling just knew him too well -- a scary thought, considering they had met each other less than a year ago and for most of the time these days Ling was someone else instead of himself.
Ed shifted uncomfortably for a second, internally debating the merits of honesty. "I mean, yeah, I don't even really like getting gifts." Gifts were difficult to reconcile with equivalent exchange; to Ed they were just more debts incurred.
"But?" Ling prompted, nudging Ed's knee with his own.
Ed hunched his shoulders. "But I've never had a birthday without Al around. It's weird. I miss him," he confessed awkwardly.
"I see," Ling said, the probing energy of his posture melting back into alert but relaxed. He let a moment of silence breathe between the two of them before he spoke again. "How would you celebrate if he were here?"
"We haven't really celebrated since Al lost his body. His or mine. It just hasn't felt right, you know? Another year and nothing's changed, whoopee," Ed deadpanned, uncrossing his arms to perform a sarcastic gesture of celebration.
Ling snorted softly. "That's awfully pessimistic. Surviving another year is still progress, isn't it?"
Ed gave a one-shouldered shrug and turned his head towards the wall. Staring at the grains in the stone seemed somehow easier than looking at his friend. "Doesn't always feel like it."
After a moment of letting that sink in, Ling craned out of their alcove to peer towards the street, then carefully returned to his former position. He clearly felt it wasn't safe yet, and Ed was willing to trust Ling's instincts. He was a keen guy. This time the silence didn’t breathe so much as it suffocated.
"Before, on our birthdays in Resembool," Ed found himself saying quietly, not thinking much about the words before he said them, "Granny Pinako would give Winry, Al, and I a handful of cens each and let us buy whatever we wanted from the village market. Usually candy. Though one time Al and I pooled ours to buy Winry a fancy dress she wanted. I don't know why we bothered -- she grew out of it in like a year."
When he glanced at Ling, the prince was paying close attention with a small smile on his face, like he actually found stories about Ed's childhood interesting.
"No, I think that's sweet," Ling said. "Seems to me you've always been a kind person."
The compliment made Ed squirm. There were days Edward felt downright unkind, so hearing Ling say that impacted him more than he cared to admit. The tips of his ears felt hot. "How do you celebrate birthdays in Xing?" he asked, desperate to get the attention off of himself.
Ling did that thing Ed noticed he often did when he talked about his home country, where he tucked his hands into his opposite sleeves -- except the sleeves of Greed’s jacket weren’t quite wide enough for it, so he ended up just awkwardly shoving his fingers into the cuffs instead. Amusement brought a tiny smirk to Ed’s lips.
“Ever since I was little, my birthday has been a celebration for my whole clan,” Ling told him. “Nothing on the level of the Emperor’s birthday, mind you, but there’s usually a feast in my honour at the very least.”
Ed raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle. “Impressive. It’s crazy how easy it is to forget that you’re like, actually royalty for real.”
Ling’s lower lip jutted out in a decidedly un-regal pout. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?”
Ed snickered at him. “Do yourself a favour and take it as a compliment. If you constantly reminded me you were a prince I would probably deck you.”
“You shouldn’t threaten royalty, Ed,” Ling teased. He leaned closer in the already-tight space, his eyes cracking just barely open. Ed all of a sudden felt frozen, pinned down by that dark, intense gaze, and he realised he was breathing Ling’s air. “You’ll start an international incident.”
There was something… deliberate, to Ling’s actions here, some obscure intention in his eyes, his body language. It was written in a language Ed couldn’t read, yet was eerily familiar.
“Well, I’m already a fugitive in my own country,” Ed managed to say. “S-speaking of, shouldn’t we find the other guys?” Internally, he kicked himself for stuttering like a flustered idiot. He was not flustered just because the dumb foreigner had no concept of personal space!
Ling closed his eyes again and all the intensity vanished. “Sure. I can feel them close by. Follow me.”
Ling abruptly strode away, and Ed scurried to catch up, swallowing down the dryness in his throat. What the hell had that been? He tried to think of something to say, but his brain turned to static. When he snuck a glance at Ling, the taller boy was focused straight ahead, eyes still closed but weaving between people and fixtures like there was an invisible string pulling him towards his destination. Ed was sure he’d never fail to be impressed by Ling’s strangeness, almost magnetic in his eccentricities, and that thought made his mouth dry all over again. Of course Ed would feel that way about any weird-yet-competent person he met! There was nothing special about Ling. Not at all.
By the time they met up with the chimeras, Greed had returned (Ed tried not to show his disappointment), all but screaming his presence in the sweeping, careless way he puppeted Ling’s elegant limbs and the grin that lacked all subtlety. Not to mention the wide-open, ever-hungry eyes.
Deja vu prickled down Ed’s spine, and he realised with a small jolt why the emotion Ling had expressed when he’d leaned towards him in the alley was so familiar.
He’d been looking at Ed the way Greed looked at nearly everything.
Like he wanted.
The four (and a half) of them were able to slip out of the city without further incident and set up camp in the forest about two miles out. Because they had cut their supply run short due to Ed’s mistake, it was back to rations and canned food for dinner. Heinkel and Darius complained mightily. Ed ignored them just as mightily, beating himself up all the while.
He went to bed early. The day's excitement was wearing on him, and with all the traveling by foot he wasn’t getting as many naps as he was used to. He’d give anything for a nice, long train ride, but train stations were such an obvious place to look for someone who was on the run.
Tent pitched and bedmat rolled out, Ed let his hair down and curled up under his blanket, settling in for what was sure to be another cold, lonely night.
Ed was roused from sleep by a hand on his shoulder. He turned towards the touch, head clearing and eyes focusing. It was pitch-dark inside the tent. "Mnh?"
"Hey, Ed," whispered Ling. Based on the proximity of his voice (near) and the available space in the tent (not much), Ed guessed Ling was crouching right beside him. His hand was noticeably warm even through Ed's shirt. "It's past midnight. Happy birthday."
"...Stupid reason to wake me up," Ed groused. He tugged his blanket back up over his head and Ling withdrew his hand.
"I wanted to talk to you."
With a reluctant grumble, Ed pushed himself into a sitting position. He kept the blanket tucked up around his shoulders to stave off the chilly winter air, and fumbled for the portable electric lantern he kept beside him in case of an emergency. It flickered uncooperatively for a moment, then filled the tent with weak yellow light. Ed scrubbed his eyes before finally looking at Ling. The prince’s expression was hard to read, which made Ed equally nervous and curious.
"What's up?" he asked.
Ling shifted his weight in the crouch, then carefully repositioned himself to be kneeling instead. It was a while before he spoke, and it occurred to Ed that Ling might be nervous himself. He didn't think he'd ever seen Ling nervous before. Even when faced with monstrous homunculi and certain death, Ling had never once trembled or flinched. He was such a well of confidence and calm focus; it was something Ed really admired about him. Wondering what could possibly have put a crack in that composure made a small knot of dread form in Ed's stomach.
"You're sixteen now," Ling said. Ed nodded slowly. "And how long is there left until the Promised Day? Four months?"
Ed eyed him suspiciously. "Yeah?"
Ling fisted his hands in his lap and bent his head. For another long moment he said nothing. When he looked up again, he said, "Can I ask you something?"
Curiosity was gnawing at the knot of dread, at once undoing and consuming it. Ed was on tenterhooks. "Go ahead,” he permitted.
Ling took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and there was that focus, the serene determination fed by avarice.
"Will you kiss me?"
The request caught Ed by such surprise that he actually spluttered, knees drawing up defensively. "Wh-what? Why?"
There was nothing condescending in Ling's expression, but his eyes still said, isn't it obvious?
“Uh.” Ed lowered his head and fidgeted with the blanket, trying to ignore the blush burning its way across his face and down his neck.
“You hadn’t noticed?” Ling asked softly, voice tinged with surprise. Ed couldn’t bring himself to look up.
Of course he’d noticed. He’d noticed all the little ways Ling had shown interest in him (and recognizing that interest for what it was had made him feel paradoxically warm and cold at the same time -- electrified), but he hadn’t thought to say anything about it. It just was what it was. Ed had purposefully left it alone because it was just logic that amplifying feelings that already made him warm was a good way to get himself burned.
“I-I don’t know, Ling,” Ed stammered out. “There’s so much going on, with the homunculi and the country-wide array and being on the run… We’ve got more important things to worry about. Maybe if things were different,” he added hastily, realising that he’d made it sound like he was rejecting Ling. He wasn’t trying to.
Ling inclined his head ever-so-slightly. “I understand.”
Silence stretched on, and Ed worried at the inside of his lip with his teeth. He was doing the right thing, wasn’t he? He shouldn’t be kissing the prince of a foreign nation when he had to focus on saving Amestris, saving Al -- it didn’t matter that the prince was skilled and shrewd and had a smile that took his breath away. He shouldn’t.
That didn’t make him stop wanting to.
“Under different circumstances, I would say that there’s no rush,” Ling said, “that we could come back to it, but we really can’t. When this is all over, I have to go home. We only have so much time. You can still say no, I just wanted to remind you of that.”
Ed let out a baffled, breathless laugh. “I don’t even know what you’re asking me!”
“Just a kiss, Ed. That’s all I’m asking for right now.” Ling’s expression was so steady it made Ed feel unbalanced by comparison, like the planet had suddenly shifted its rotational axis and Ling didn’t even mind. It was almost enough to make him angry.
“And what about after that?” Ed demanded. His eyes flickered all over Ling’s face in the sickly light of the lantern. “I… I wouldn’t be able to pretend like it never happened.”
“You don’t have to. Whatever you want this to be is alright with me,” Ling said, voice soft and sincere. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while, now. I thought maybe you felt the same, but it’s okay if I was wrong. Tell me to leave, if you don’t want me here.”
“No,” Ed blurted, his hand flashing out. Ling hadn’t moved, but Ed’s impulsivity had gotten the best of him, and now Ed was frozen with Ling’s wrist clutched in his automail hand. The blanket had slipped down to Ed’s lap when he moved, and the cold air made him shiver. “Don't go. You’re really okay with it? With doing… whatever this is, and then going our separate ways when the whole mess is over? Won’t it... hurt?”
That was the crux of why Ed had never said anything, had never examined his feelings too closely. He didn’t want to cause either of them that pain, knowing it was temporary. He didn’t want to mess it up and drive Ling away in the small amount of time they had together. Maybe he would have wondered what could have been, but so what? Ed had made enough mistakes in his life already; he really didn’t want Ling to become another one.
Ling smiled again, affectionate and wistful. He gently pried Ed’s fingers off of his wrist and held the automail in his left hand. With his right he trailed his fingers down Ed’s hand from the wrist to the fingertips, caressing the metal almost reverently. Ed could only watch, his heart in his throat for some reason.
“Aren’t we young and foolish?” Ling said softly. “Haven’t we both lost people and nearly died ourselves? We’ve endured hardships and traded our very bodies for things that are important to us. What’s a little bit of pain? I think it could be worth it.”
Ed felt like all the oxygen was being siphoned out of the tent. What other reason could there be for how he struggled to breathe?
Ling gazed at him with those dark, hungry eyes and Ed thought any second now he would be absorbed right into them. It wasn’t like the tearing, insatiable vortex of Gluttony’s stomach; this was a different kind of hunger.
“Will you kiss me?” Ling asked again in a low voice. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his lips were parted, inviting. His expression sent another shiver down Ed's spine.
Throat too clogged to form words, Ed nodded. The desire to kiss Ling was nearly overpowering; it ensnared his heart and pulsed on the back of his tongue. He leaned in slowly, aware of the sweat gathering on his left hand where it was grasping the blanket in his lap, aware of his heart pounding loudly in his ears. Unsure what else to do, he closed his eyes and held his breath.
Ling’s lips, like the rest of him, were feverishly hot and dry. Distractedly, Ed hypothesized that the unnatural heat was due to the excess of souls in his body -- so much energy with nowhere to go. He wondered if it hurt.
Ling deepened the kiss right away, pulling a surprised noise from Ed. As first kisses go it was… passionate. And… nice.
Kissing Ling chased all the words from Ed’s skull. He couldn’t think, could only focus on how it felt when Ling released his automail to cup his cheeks instead, warming his skin and sending a little thrill down his spine.
When they broke away to breathe, Ed had his hands on Ling’s shoulders, and he pushed their foreheads together while he caught his breath.
“Thank you,” Ling mumbled, which made no sense at all to Ed. He expressed as much with a snort-laugh.
“You’re weird,” Ed asserted. He could feel a tingle in his mouth, like a ghost of Ling’s lips was still kissing him. It was weird and pleasant. “Wow. Happy birthday to me.”
It was Ling’s turn to snort-laugh. Then he pressed another softer, feather-light kiss to Ed’s lips. Ed tried to lean into it, but Ling was already pulling away. The thought of him leaving sent a shock of fear down Ed’s spine and he took a fistful of Ling’s shirt in each hand, holding him in place.
“You can’t-- don’t run out on me,” Ed choked. Desperation left a sour taste in his throat. He felt pathetic.
Ling brushed his thumbs over Ed’s cheeks reassuringly. “I’m not. Unless you mean after the Promised Day? Because I can’t help that one, Ed.”
Ed swallowed his distress and allowed himself to be comforted by Ling’s hands on his face. “No, no I meant… right now. I know you have to go in the long-term, but I just -- if you tried to leave the tent just then I would have throttled you.”
Amusement danced on Ling’s face and sent corresponding pleasant feelings coursing through Ed. “I’m not going anywhere until you kick me out,” Ling promised.
It was embarrassing how relieved that made Ed feel; blush prickled at his cheeks again and he curled his hands delicately around Ling’s wrists. “Okay. Good. Can I--? I mean, can we--?”
Ling arched his eyebrow when Ed trailed off, and Ed felt himself blush harder. Damn Ling for being so handsome and composed -- Ed felt like a mess in comparison.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” Ed blurted, and then he did.
Ed went up on his knees this time, face and hands warmed by proximity to Ling but cold everywhere else. He held Ling’s neck gently with both hands, thumbs resting lightly on the edge of his jaw. Ling’s hands traveled to his shoulders, his waist, and Ed gasped at the heat even through his shirt.
Ling pulled back just enough to speak. “You could come with me, you know,” he blurted in a rush. “To Xing, I mean. I could always use an extra guard, and you could finally study alkahestry like you want. I’m sure the palace library has countless books about it.”
Almost despite himself, Ed felt excitement rise in his chest at the mention of a palace library. All of that knowledge -- his hands itched with desire, but he shook himself out of it when he remembered that he didn’t even speak Xingese. Oh yeah, and it was all the way across the damn desert.
“That’s kind of a lot to ask,” Ed managed to say.
“I know,” Ling said with a sheepish smile. “Greed’s a bad influence on me.”
Ed sighed and absently thumbed Ling’s jaw. “I can’t make a promise like that yet. It’s too soon. This is--” Ed’s cheeks flared with heat and he pushed his forehead to Ling’s again, more mulish than affectionate. “This feels… fast,” he confided.
“All we’ve done is kiss,” Ling pointed out with a laugh.
Ed’s blush deepened and he dropped his hands from Ling’s neck to his hips instead. They were sitting knee-to-knee. “Shut up. We kissed and then you asked me to go with you back to your country! That’s fast!”
“It was just a suggestion,” Ling said softly, but Ed had seen the strength of the desire in his eyes. “No pressure to decide right now. Or even when I go. You could show up to Xing five years from now with no warning and I would be ecstatic. You’re really amazing, Ed, and I don’t want you to think that I’m only starting this because I can leave you behind in four months.”
There was a tight, squeezing feeling in Ed’s chest that he didn’t know what to do with. He squeezed Ling’s hips for a second to match the feeling and took a shaky breath. Like the coward he was, he picked a snarky response over a sincere one. “Good. Because if that were the case I’d really have to deck you.”
Ling chuckled and pulled him into a hug. Ed reciprocated, sliding his hands up Ling’s back and burying his nose in the prince’s neck. Ling’s pulse was sluggish, but his skin was so, so warm regardless.
We’re doing this all out of order, Ed thought with faint amusement. They were supposed to hug first, then kiss, then ask to run away to be together in another country.
All of a sudden, Ed felt unsure. Unsure that this was okay, that he deserved to feel this way (appreciated and safe and wanted ) when he had no idea where Al was, had no idea if Al was even alive, had no idea if their plan would work or if they would even survive past the Promised Day. What gave Ed the right to be happy without his brother? Not to mention Winry. Fuck. That deserved an entire breakdown in and of itself completely outside of the present circumstances. Ed quickly pulled away from Ling, drawing his legs up and burying his face in his knees.
“Edward? What’s wrong?” Ling questioned, uncertain.
“Nothing. Shit, that’s a lie, that’s very obviously a lie. I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.”
Ling resettled himself to sit beside Ed rather than in front of him. His arm came around Ed’s shoulders, warm and heavy and comforting. Ed squeezed his eyes shut against the guilt of enjoying it.
“You’re not stupid,” Ling assured. “You’re the smartest person I know, in fact. You can tell me what’s wrong. I won’t think less of you.”
“You’re really fucking canny, you know that?” Ed retorted, deflecting.
Ling started running his fingers through Ed’s loose hair, warm and steady and soothing. “So I’ve been told,” he murmured mildly.
He didn’t press the issue, just held Ed and quietly stroked his hair until some of the tension leaked out of Ed’s body. Ed sagged against Ling’s side, dropping his head against Ling’s shoulder. He couldn’t have predicted this night if he was twice as canny as Ling was. Fucking curveballs.
Affection gnawed on his heart as Ling continued gently combing his hair with his fingers, apparently content with their position. Ed thought of a thousand ways to try and explain himself, but no words made it onto his tongue. He was bad at this, had always been bad at this. He could never put words to how he felt, but that was why he made promises. That was why he jumped to action, to prove himself and protect the people he cared about. Ling didn’t exactly need his protection, which was both a relief and a disappointment, because then how was Ed supposed to let him know he cared?
“Ling?” murmured Ed.
Ling’s fingers paused in their work. “Yes?”
“I still owe you. From earlier today.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Ling said calmly, so sure of himself. The moment Ed processed the words, he was lifting his head and staring at Ling, who arched his eyebrows back.
“Of course I do,” Ed argued. “If you hadn’t shown up, I probably would have had to alchemy my way out of there, and the ‘possible Fullmetal sighting’ would’ve been bumped to ‘confirmed Fullmetal sighting,’ and it would’ve put everything in jeopardy. You saved me -- everyone, really -- from my own stupid fuck-up. How do I not owe you?”
“Because I’m not keeping score,” Ling said. “I’d save you again tomorrow if you needed it, but I don’t expect anything in return beyond a thank you.”
Ed frowned. “You can’t go pouring all your energy into something and not expect to get anything out of it. That’s not how it works. You did something for me, now I have to do something for you. Thank you isn’t equivalent.”
“Well if that’s how you want to see it, consider this as repayment for when you saved me from Gluttony’s stomach,” Ling said, lackadaisical. He stretched out on his side in the cramped space of the tent, sprawling beside Ed and propping his head up on one hand. He offered Ed a charming smile. “If you hadn’t been there, that would’ve been it for me. Bye-bye, Ling Yao!”
“...Idiot,” Ed muttered, unable to think of a better response.
“Or, if that’s not enough for you, repay me by visiting me in Xing when this is all over.” Ling ran his free hand down Ed’s right arm. The automail wasn’t sensitive enough for him to feel it besides a numb awareness of the movement, but just the fact that Ling was touching him was still enough to send a tingle down Ed’s spine.
“So… Basically what you’re telling me is that you helping me didn’t mean anything.” Ed tried to keep the hurt out of his voice.
Ling blinked in surprise. “How did you get that?”
Ed made a frustrated noise and gesticulated vaguely. “The input is equal to the output! If you don’t want anything for it, then it wasn’t worth anything to you!”
Ling sat up again. He looked much older than he was when he wasn’t smiling. “I already got something out of it,” he said, inscrutable. “Maybe you would’ve been fine on your own, and I could’ve just watched -- Greed was perfectly happy to -- but I wanted to help you. Not because it meant you would do me a good turn down the line in exchange, but because it would benefit you. I helped you because you are worth something to me.”
Understanding clicked into Ed’s brain. It wasn’t that he didn’t owe Ling, it was that him being okay was enough to repay that debt. Mollified, Ed crumpled and uncrumpled the blanket in his hands, letting the repetition distract him. “I guess that makes sense,” he conceded. Now he felt like a jerk.
Ling’s smile reappeared, taking five years off of his expression and making Ed’s stomach flutter. “You’re a strange one, Edward Elric.”
“You’re one to talk,” Ed fired back. He suppressed a shiver, then a yawn.
“Want me to go?” Ling asked sympathetically. “You need your rest.”
For half a second, Ed considered asking him to stay. The thought of it made his face get warm again. He decided against it for a few reasons; Greed could come back at any time and make things immensely awkward, or Ed might have a nightmare and disturb Ling, or Ed might embarrass himself some other way in his sleep. “Yeah, better if you do,” he mumbled reluctantly.
Ling shuffled towards the closed entrance of the tent, pausing when Ed put his hand on his arm.
Ed thought about asking, but the words got stuck in his throat, so he just went for it. He leaned in for another kiss, and grinned when Ling squeaked. It was good to know that his composure wasn’t completely infallible. Ling kissed him back with the same intensity as before, and eventually Ed had to retreat.
“Goodnight Ling,” he said, trying not to audibly gasp for air.
“Goodnight Edward,” Ling said. His voice thrummed with affection and something else tangibly happy and alive. “Happy birthday.”
Ed nodded mutely, and Ling made his way out of the tent.
The resulting solitude felt suffocating in comparison to Ling’s company; Ed was left only with the gentle hum of the lantern’s battery and his own thoughts.
He was tired, but he knew sleep wouldn’t come so easily -- not after that. Still, he switched off the lantern and laid down again, huddling under his blanket. He wondered if, from now on, all his nights would be like this one: a little less cold, a little less lonely.
The universe had given him a lot to think about. Goddamn curveballs.