Yo, yo. (Heh, yoyo.)

So I was really bored while my nail polish was drying. Sorry for crack!fic ending. xD

Too . Effeminate . For . My . Tastes

"Fullmetal..."

"Mm?"

"What is that?"

Ed blinked, reluctantly tearing his gaze from the yellowed pages in his lap and turning towards the large desk with confusion. "What's what?"

Mustang gestured towards Ed's hands with an incredulous raised eyebrow.

Ed followed his gaze and searched his hands for a moment, looking for anything out of the ordinary. His eyes widened momentarily in realisation as his gaze settled on the somewhat out-of-place colouring, and he mouthed a quiet "Oh".

"Why are you... Why do you have that on? You're aware that it's against the rules of military uniform, and-"

"Basically," Ed cut in, "you're telling me I can't wear nail polish because I'm a guy?" Ed rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that uniform shit because I'm not wearing uniform. I know what this is really about."

Mustang sighed when Ed waved his nails tauntingly in his direction. "It just looks... odd."

Ed considered the black nails with a somewhat fond expression, as if he was a small child viewing his favourite teddy bear. "I don't care what you think. I think it looks nice."

Mustang sighed again in mild exasperation. "What's next, Fullmetal? Make-up and flowery dresses?"

Ed's face scrunched up and he violently shot the book he had been peacefully reading moments ago at his superior. "There's a difference between nail polish and actually being a girl, bastard."

Mustang dodged, thankful for Ed's poor aim, though he winced as it hit the window with a worryingly loud thump. He could feel the force of the vibrations through the floor. "Are you so sure about th-"

He was cut off as Ed's empty coffee mug was hurled in his direction, and he was forced to dodge again.

Mustang was about to make another scathing remark, but at that moment, the door slammed open and a panting Alphonse was revealed, eyes wide with terror.

"Mr. Mustang, there's an emergency on the third floor!"

Mustang's expression sobered. "What happened?"

"There's... Mr. Armstrong is wearing a dress!"