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Soft morning rays seeped in through the curtains, illuminating the fine flecks of dust weaving in the air and the two bodies laying down peacefully at the only bed in the room. Snores filled it up, breaking the easy quietness with soft sounds and the telltale signs of someone unaware of the world outside. Not that the world outside paid much danger to the duo at the moment.
Trees and mountains surrounded the house and hid it from the view of outsiders, either by foot or by air. Very few people knew how to get to that place and they wouldn’t show up in there anytime soon. Or, more realistically, until the world threatened to go down in flames and they needed to come out of their refuge.
For now, however, Ed would focus on the way Ling’s chest lifted and descended in regular periods, half of his face hidden by their daughter’s golden hair. Trisha slept heavily on her father’s chest, curled up like a ball and snoring just like a chainsaw. Even at the tender age of eight, she had a lung capacity that could easily rival that of Major Armstrong and win.
Blankets pooled at their waist and feet, stolen from Ed in the middle of the night and, then, promptly forgotten when the air started to get warmer in the morning. He would have screamed at them for hogging them, had it been another day or occasion, but not on this one. Moments like this weren’t rare, but they were far in between. Whenever one of them happened, he always cherished them.
With Ling being Xing’s Emperor and Ed dividing his time between Central City College, Resembool, Xing and his own travels, having time together with no foreseeable interruptions always managed to make Ed softer than it had any right to. It had something to do with the possibility of having his husband at his reach at any time and without any rituals or protocols to follow. It had something with the fact that he could hug his daughter and watch her play with her father in the yard without much care in the world because no one would come and interrupt them. It was the fact that they could just be together and alone with one another.
Smiling, Ed pushed off the door’s frame and walked towards his little family. His hair glistened against the light and he knew that, if Ling was awake, he would be sputtering poetic nonsense about how it was a sign of divinity. He would say that Ed was his god, that he shined like the sun or whatever it was that his inspirations made him say. It were amazing the kind of things his husband could come up with when he wanted to flatter him.
He had been up with the sun — a habit acquired with his travels, but unnecessary during their vacations — and took the opportunity to clean some of the dishes before coming back to bed. In some days, Alphonse and Mei were supposed to arrive so they could head back to Xing’s capital together and where they would spent the rest of their vacations before both Ed and Alphonse went back to Amestris. Trisha would stay back with Ling and Mei until he came back again to stay for some months.
It hurt to think about being away from them, not having any of them at reach whenever he wanted. Part of it came of the idea he would never have this, would never have a family to call his own, besides his brother. Whenever the thought bout the future came up, he always pictured it with both him and Al having their bodies back and, maybe, his little brother would be already dating if he wanted. For himself, however, only research and alchemy filled his days.
Romantic endeavours weren’t on his mind at the time, not even close to it. So, it was not a lie to say that Ling’s courtship came up as a surprise to him.
After the Promise Day, his life became basically only alchemy and his research. Between Al’s stays in the hospital and his own recovery, Ed focused on understanding how the xerxian alchemy influenced everything else that came after and what was the aftermath of its disappearance. He read books upon books about xerxian history and anything else that Amestris held about it and, when that wasn’t enough anymore, he turned to Xing and their alkahestry.
It was between the letters he exchanged — First, with Mei, and, then, with Ling — that he begun to find space in his heart for something else. Among talks about historical importance and rare xingese manuscripts, Ling would tell him about his days in Xing and the political upheaval it was going through during his first years as an Emperor. In return, Ed would write about his and Al’s recovery, his research and his expectations for the future, the few ones he now had.
Even after leaving the hospital and his travels starting, the letters kept being exchanged and answered. Presents slowly started to appear along with them, first small and almost unnoticeable and, then, bigger and unmistakable. Small ribbons to serve as bookmarkers accompanied a three-pages letter and tiny, heavy green rocks he used as paper weights followed after. Over the months, they began to grow in size and value, becoming bolder and shinier and going from small ribbons to pens, notebooks and small statues and cedar boxes painted with gold.
Laying down in the bed, Ed’s smile grew bigger as he remembered the fight they had when Ling tried to gift him a gold bracelet along with one of those fancy boxes of his.
Confused with all those gifts and the lack of real reason behind them, he had marched into Xing to get the explanation personally and was met with Ling choosing a bracelet to send his way with his next letter. Numerous types of bracelets rested in front of him, merchants from all Xing sitting at the side and waiting for the Emperor’s choice. It was supposed to be an honour, to have one of their bracelets chosen by the Emperor as a gift to his beloved, they had explained to him, but, confused and pissed with all of the other gifts, Ed screamed at Ling and inquired who he thought his beloved was. Ling’s forlorn look had been answer enough.
“Do you not realise my love for you, Edward?” Ling had said later, when they were alone on his throne room and there no curious eyes staring anymore. His hands were hidden inside his sleeves and his mouth set in a torn and sad smile. The bracelet he had chosen disappeared as soon as he heard Ed ask him ‘why’. “Or is it that my love is not given back?”
Ed would like to say that he dealt with that question accordingly, that he had been clam and collected, but that would be a lie. His words had been brash and wild, flowing out of his lips as soon as they came to his mind. Not all of it had been right or good and both of them had come out exhausted and mildly hurt out of it, but, all above, hadn’t they make it work?
Watching as Ling reached for him in his sleep, their daughter settled between them, Ed decided that yes, they made it work. It hadn’t been easy, for nothing on their lives were ever easy, but he wouldn’t change a thing. His family was happy and safe, his research being well received and no danger slithered underneath his country anymore. In the end, all was well.
“You’ve got to think less, tàiyáng,” Ling whispered, a heavy hand coming up and settling over his eyes. “You will burn your brain cells at that rate.”
“And end up like you?” He whispered back and brought the hand down to hi lips, kissing its warm palm. Mirth sweetened his tone and the narrow of his eyes as Ling brought their faces closer, moving over their daughter’s body. “Never.”
“Oh, you rascal,” he said, kissing the tip of his nose. His eyes were still closed with sleep, yet his face was fully turned towards Ed. “You say that as if I don’t beat you in every game of Go.”
“Only because you have more practice!” A blush took over his cheeks at the memory of their last game and how, despite Al’s blatant attempts of help, he still lost, much to Winry and Ling’s amusement and happiness.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” and laughter now accompanied his voice, comfortable and welcomed on the lines around his mouth. “Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”
“Fuck you,” Ed mouthed — mindful of Trisha sleeping between them — but he could feel the corners of his lips turning up stubbornly. The smug smirk on Ling’s face proved that he could see it too.
“You do it could enough, I don’t ne– Ow!” Heat rushed to his face and neck, hand hitting the other’s shoulder with a resonating slap. Instantly, they both turned to look at the sleeping child and waited with bated breath to see if she would move.
“I hate you so much,” Ed narrowed his eyes at him again after a snore rumbled Trisha’s chest, watching as Ling leaned back and lifted himself in one elbow. “So, so much.”
“I love you too, Ed,” he leaned over once again, pushing tiny feet off his chest, and kissed one of his eyelids before the other. “My Edward Elric,” a kiss to one eyebrow. “My sun,” one to the other one. “My golden light,” a kiss to the forehead. “My love,” one to the tip of his nose. “My husband,” and, finally, finally, one to his lips.
It was a chaste kiss, just a press of lips and shared breath, but it was enough to make Ed’s heart swell inside his chest. One of Ling’s hand came up to rest against his cheek while the other held on Ed’s hand, fingers wrapping around each other, and clutched tight and secure. There was something about staying like this with him, just pressed against each other and sharing breath, something more intimate than sex or anything else. The act of staying there, close and in silence, settled something deep withing his chest. All of his cells told him that he was finally home.
As their kiss broke, neither of them moved away, unwilling to part, and let their foreheads rest together. Even with closed eyes, even with just that single touch shared between them, they knew that identical smiles played on their lips, sated and satisfied in equal manners. This was enough, have each other there, close, was enough.
“I’m telling Uncle Al about this,” Trisha said between them, voice muffled by the fabric of Ed’s shirt. “You two are disgusting.”
“Oh, really?” Ed moved away from Ling, looking down at her. His own eyes stared back at him — though shaped identically to Ling’s — sleepy and unamused. “You think we are disgusting. Do you hear that, Ling? Our daughter thinks we are disgusting.”
“I did, Edward, I did,” he nodded with a dejected tone and shook his head. “Such a sad thing to day, such a disrespect.”
“Yes, don’t you think a debt is owned?” His hands crept closer to her sides, eyes completely serious as they travelled between them. Trisha was already staring at him mistrustfully, pulling away from his chest when ling agreed with and exclaimed:
“Tickle monster!”
They descended at her sides at once, fingertips dancing over her clothes and pulling delightful shrieks of her. She contorted this and that way, shouting them to stop between guffaws of laughter. Tears gathered in her eyes as her hands came up to push Ling’s face away from where he was blowing raspberries on her neck.
“A-die! Stop!” Trisha laughed, tiny fingers wrapping around black loose stands and pulling. “Stop!” Giggled filled the air, loud and full of life even as Ed tickled under their arms. “Baba!”
“Has the debt been paid yet, Mightest Tickle Monster?” He asked, trying to control his own laughter as Trisha tried to push him away with her elbow.
“I think not, Bravest First Husband,” Ling said, blowing another raspberry on her neck. Another shriek echoed through the air, loud and utterly delightful, and was quick followed by others until their stomachs hurt from laughing so hard. “The Tickle Monster is satisfied, Most Beautiful First Husband. It now rests until his next attack.”
“I’m glad, Enchanting Tickle Monster, until your next attack,” he bowed his head solemnly and hid a smile as his hair covered Trisha’s face and her weak shout of ‘Baba!’. “Oh, good morning, Trisha! You are awake!”
“You woke my up! With A-Die!” She panted, rolling her eyes with all the might of an eight years old.
“Me? And your Baba?” Ling gasped in fake surprise, hand on his chest as he widdened his eyes. “But we just saw you awake!”
“Lies! You tickled me before this!” Her fingers wrapped around his, arm going around Ed’s neck as both of them laid down besides her. “Both of you.”
Ed smiled as innocently as he could when she turned to him narrowed and accusatory eyes. At her other side, Ling smiled openly enough that his eyes closed, the perfect picture of happiness and comfort. His head was pivoted at his left hand, hovering over them, while his right one rest on her stomach, fingers patting slightly as Ed and her had a stare down.
He was trying to commit that image to memory, to his very soul. Even at old age, Ling wanted to remember the way the sun lighted both of his loves’ hair and how the air was still warming from the night’s cold. He wouldn’t forget Trisha’s breathing under his hands, the tingling on his lips from the earlier kiss or the softness settling down on his chest.
His heart was heavy with love, care and something too akin to happy satisfaction. For so long, Ling had heard his love for Edward would result in nothing, that his desire would end up fruitless. They told him to settle, to accept what was given to him and not be greedy. After all, he was already Emperor, what else could he possibly want?
Everything, Ling wanted everything his heart desired. Even before hosting Greed, even before accepting the homunculus on his body, Ling had been greedy. Whenever he found something he desired, he didn’t rest until it was his.
It had been like that with Ed. The courting, the letters, the insistence of not letting go. Distance and politcs meant nothing to him, the other clans’ expectations for his reign as important as the smallest grain of sand on his most hated garden. All that mattered was having this, Ed happy and fulfilled by his side and everything well.
They had made it. Through hardships and perils, they stood together and inseparable until the end. People could try to get between them, could plot to draw them apart, but none of it would work. Never. None of them would let it happen.
Smiling and satisfied with that thought, Ling pulled the blanket over Trisha’s chest carefully. The stare down resulted on her yawning and blinking slowly and Ed rubbing his eyes sleepily before laying down and reaching for him. He laid down as well, intertwining their fingers and kissing the back of his hand.
The world outside was fully awake by now, moving and alert, as sleep crept on them. Birds sang on their tree branches, happy and loud, and sunlight now touched everything known to men. However, inside that room, the sun incarnate slowly fell asleep curled up around the child of the sun and the earth and his human lover. Happy, sated and soft.