When Ed awoke that morning slick with sweat and other fluids that he didn't care to think about, he was horrified. It wasn't the first time he had ever had dreams like that of course -he was a teenage boy for crying out loud - but it was the first time he had ever had one about a guy...and to have had it about him was even worse. The only person he could think of that might have been perhaps even more awful to dream of that way would probably be Colonel Bastard, but he refused to let his mind go there. It had to be because they had been spending so much time together lately. That must be it. It was simply a matter of osmosis. He had been horny, and he had been thinking about the prince. He wasn't horny because of Ling.

He was grateful that Al had left the room, since Ed was sure that he must have seen what had happened. The poor kid couldn't sleep, so it had probably been pretty noticeable. At least this way he could clean up and get dressed and they could both pretend it didn't happen. He prayed an atheist's prayer that he hadn't said anything in his sleep that might have betrayed him, not that Al would ever tell anyone of course. He was a good brother.

Ed gathered the sheets and balled them up into a giant wad, tossing them onto the bed. The maid service would take them later on, and all evidence of his crime would disappear with them. He grabbed some clothes from his bag and headed to the washroom to clean up.

Things were getting heavy lately. It seemed the further they dug into the business of the homunculi, the more dark secrets they uncovered concerning the military and the running of this country. It shouldn't be a surprise that he was having weird dreams lately. Most of them had been more like nightmares, and though last night's had been mostly pleasing, it was still highly disturbing. It didn't even make any sense.

He had never taken notice of Ling's chest like that before. The way the young man's muscles rippled beneath tanned skin as he battled, sweat rolling down his thick neck and over his sternum, coating his skin in a glistening sheen of salty fluid. He could still taste that salt like he had licked it off of him not five minutes before. He would have to pick up some Rexall later on. For now, scalding hot water would have to do.

He was interrupted from his cleansing rituals when he caught Ling's reflection in the small mirror over the sink.

"What are you doing here? And why can't you wear a shirt like a normal person? Always popping in half-dressed like people want you there..."

"What do you mean? This is how people dress in my country."

"What if I start running around shirtless all the time? How would you like that?"

"I wouldn't mind it either way, I suppose. Are you all right, Edward?"

"I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?" Only he wasn't fine, was he? He couldn't even look the other boy in the face; the memories of his dream were still too fresh in his mind. Ed could feel his cheeks flaming...there was no way to hide his embarrassment from the intrusive prince.

He moved forward to shove him out of the small bathroom, but Ling blocked his move and stood his ground in the doorway. "What is wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

Their faces were inches apart, Ling's arm over his shoulder with his palm planted firmly inside the door frame. His jacket sleeve fell down to his elbow, exposing the thick forearm beneath it. Ling's gaze was intense, and Ed found himself heating up again. Damn.

"Ling. Get. Out." When all he got was a puzzled stare, he added, "Now."

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you. That's what friends are for, aren't they?"

"Brother is embarrassed because he had a dream about you last night."

Al was back, it seemed, and apparently he had said something in his sleep that he now very much regretted. He was going to have to kick Al's ass later. Ling, meanwhile, was obviously very pleased with this announcement, and had clapped his hands to his face in what Ed assumed to be mock surprise. He figured Ling was the kind of guy that would assume everyone was dreaming about him, and would be disappointed to learn that they were, in fact, not.

"You did? What kind of dream?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Were we adventuring together? Was I emperor in your dream? What was I wearing?"

Nothing, really, Ed thought as Ling prattled on. He gently shoved Ling out of his way as he left the bathroom and reentered the bedroom. He started pulling on a clean shirt when Ling spun him around and grasped his shoulders, staring him in the face.

"I can't tell you how happy I am to know that you care for me so much."

"What?" He didn't figure it out, did he?

"To think that we've become such close friends in such a short time." Ling paused, choking on his words as his gratitude overwhelmed him. He pulled Ed into a crushing embrace, stroking his unbraided hair as he babbled on about friendship and what it meant to him as a foreigner in a strange land. Ed soon lost the thread of his words, though, as he took notice of his position. His face was buried in the hollow of Ling's collarbone, a position he distinctly remembered from last night. He was so close, he could even smell the light tang of sweat that emanated from the other boy.

It quickly became harder to ignore what was happening. Yep, was definitely harder. Shit.

He brought his hands up between them, and planted his palms firmly on Ling's ribcage. He tried to shove him off, but the idiot's grip around his shoulders was tight, and he barely managed to separate them by a few additional inches.

"Let go of me already."

Ling relaxed his grip a bit and stood back, eyeing Ed closely. Ed refused to look at his face, and tried to shift his weight so that his, er, growing problem wasn't as noticeable.

After a moment, Ling made an approving noise, which could only mean bad things. Damn. There was a very simple explanation for all of this, though. It was basic male physiology: psychogenic stimulation of the erogenous variety caused very specific, very distinct results. That he considered Ling's stimulation erogenous was of no consequence. He had just woken up from a strange dream in which his sub conscience had twisted reality, and he was obviously still suffering the effects of that.

"Ed, I think I know what kind of dream we shared last night."

"Do you now? Let me go."

"I get the feeling that you'd rather I didn't," he replied, leaning into his ear and pulling closer. His hips made contact with Ed's, which sent shock waves through his entire body.

Ducking out from beneath him, Ed shouted, "You don't understand! It's not like that!"

"How is it not?"

"There is a simple, scientific explanation for what is happening here!"

"I'm no scientist, Ed, but I don't see how this could be anything other." Ling crossed his arms and smirked. Ed panted for a few moments, trying to compose himself a little bit, trying to grasp an answer that would make sense to the half-wit. It was then that he noticed Ling was using his arms to spread his jacket and accentuate his pecks. Why his body seemed to respond to that sight was beyond him. Surely he had been awake long enough to separate the dreaming consciousness from the waking?

"Stop doing that!"

"Give Brother some time, he'll settle down."

Thank you, Al!.

"Yes, he seems too upset for anything at the moment. I'll be back later. Don't try and switch rooms or anything. I'll know which one is yours."

Ed couldn't help but wonder if that was a threat or a promise. Fuck.