A/N: This is set mid-series, but there are no spoilers. This is my first FMA, drabble, yoai/shounen-ai, fluffy oneshot. Man, this thing holds a lot of firsts for me. X /

WARNING! This is YOAI/SHOUNEN-AI! Boy-love! Don't like? Don't read! That's why they invented the "back" button.

Disclaimer: Is FMA nothing but a love-fest of RoyEd, GreedKimbley, HavocFuery, etc.? No? There's your answer.


Edward Elric always was one for sweets, whether it be chocolate, candy, or just plain sugar. It was understandable given his constantly hyper state. When there were no sweets in the house he and his boyfriend – Colonel Roy Mustang – shared, he often made his own.

This, ironically enough, was what got him into his current predicament.

At the moment, he was lying on the floor trapped under various pots and pans, covered in flour. He vaguely remembered hearing the door open and close.

"Ed, I'm home!" Roy shouted as he set his coat on the rack by the door. He was relatively worried when the usually spunky blonde didn't come charging toward him like a rat on crack. "Ed?" He started walking up the stairs to the bedroom, when he heard something coming from the kitchen. He suppressed a chuckle when he saw a sheet-white Ed half buried in kitchen supplies. Finally, he couldn't hold his laughter in any longer.

"Shut up, Colonel Bastard." Ed threatened through clenched teeth.

"Now, now, Edward. You know better than to speak so harshly to someone who has your life in their hands." The smexy smirk was there, as always.

"I'm not dying, you idiot. Just trapped." Ed tried to move, but only shifted a pan over his right hand, proving his point.

Roy's smirk grew, earning a low growl from his petite lover.

"Alright, alright," Roy sighed. As he started to move the obstacles, he decided to make conversation. "Just one question: how did you get yourself into this mess?"

Ed debated between tell him the truth; so much trouble just to make cinnamon rolls? He knew there would be some short comment coming his way if he did.

"Well, are you going to tell me or not?" Roy prodded.

"Maybe later, okay? After you release me."

Roy resumed uncovering Ed. When he finished, he took one look at the white-powder covered alchemist and burst with laughter once more.

"Bastard," Ed mumbled again.

"Come on, Ed. Lighten up." Roy coaxed through giggles.

"Lighten up? Okay, Roy, I'll lighten up!" At this, Ed reached over to the counter, grabbed the flour, and threw half of what was left in the Flame Alchemist's face. "Haha! Light enough for you?" Ed shouted through his merriment.

Roy sighed. Now you've asked for it, Ed. "I'm surprised you could reach me all the way up here, Fullmetal." Roy smirked.

Ed fumed. "WHO'RE YOU CALLING SO SMALL A CINNAMON ROLL SEEMS LIKE A MOUNTAIN?!"

"Cinnamon rolls? That's what all this is about? Seriously?"

Ed sighed. "Yes. I needed something sweet and we didn't have anything, so I decided to attempt making some cinnamon rolls." Roy seemed to be contemplating this, when his smirk reappeared.

"You needed something sweet, you say?" Ed nodded as Roy inched toward him. "Well then, why didn't you just ask?"

Before Ed could reply, Roy pulled him close and kissed him so passionately it left them both breathless. Roy undid Ed's braid and ran his fingers through the gold cascading over the boy's shoulders. Soon enough, they were on their way to the bedroom, the mess in the kitchen completely forgotten.

The last thought Ed had before becoming entirely lost in the ecstasy of it all was, I should try (and fail) to make cinnamon rolls more often.


A/N: ZOMG, that was so effin' short!

ED: WHO'RE YOU CALLING SO SM- kissed by Roy

A/N: Thank you, Roy. watches, drools ANYWAY! I don't think it was too bad in the OOC-ness department. In case you're wondering, this is a result of a kind of game thing my friend and I did randomly. She gave me a word to base a fic around and I gave her one. My word was "cinnamon-rolls" (hyphening it makes it one word!!) and hers was "pudding." So, yeah. There you go.

Review, please! No flames, though. Constructive criticism, yes. Flames, no. Those will be blown up by Kimbley (w00t!!). By the way, please don't ask for me to continue this because I won't.