Hey! Merry Christmas Rabby, even if this present is a little late. I hope you like it. It's still in its first form though, so beside correcting spelling and hopefully all the grammar, the story itself could probably use a little bit of work. Please let me know of anything I could do to make it better! Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated!

~To Yuki, Merry Christmas!~

Brow creased with great concentration, he sat hunch over on the floor, slowly and with practiced care applying the adhesive that would hold his masterpiece together. His eyes were unblinking, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as a mark of focus, and his fingers were less than skillfully plying a foreign trade to the object they held. After a considerable amount of time, they ceased to move, and the boy let out a cry of triumph as he produced to the empty room the present he had just finished wrapping. It didn't really matter to him that there was no one there to praise his handiwork, though, because being a hyper pink-haired music-star as he was, talking to inanimate objects was found to be just as fulfilling as talking to animate ones, such as his lover Yuki, who was admittedly usually less responsive than the furniture was. Both Yuki and the apartment furnishings did have one thing in common though: they very much enjoyed degrading Shuichi.

Shuichi was, in fact at this very moment, having a heated argument with the coffee table over whether or not Yuki would like his present, and whether or not he would even be able to get to it under all the layers of wrapping paper and tape and ribbon Shuichi had used. "Of course he'll like it! I knew when I saw it he would. He is a writer, after all."

There was a pause as the pink-haired boy listened to the coffee tables response. "What do you mean he doesn't need a pen to write his stories?" Shuichi asked, thoroughly confused and thinking that the coffee table was out to trick him. Another pause. "He uses his computer to write stories?" Shuichi blinked a few times, the truth settling in, and then proceeded to lecture the coffee table on all the uses a pen could have, not just for writing stories, but for grocery lists and signing things and taking telephone messages...

The coffee table then rudely interrupted Shuichi, and he shot his newfound nemesis a glare before replying with: "What do you mean it doesn't matter? Of course he'll still get the pen for Christmas! I'm going to put it under the tree right now!" But as he rose to leave, the coffee table made another comment that caused him to pause and inspect the package in his hand. It contained a small box that held the expensive pen that would be Yuki's come Christmas, but with all the layers of wrapping and tape, it was roughly the size of soccer ball, and of the same shape.

Shuichi noticed nothing wrong with the present, and was still having a hard time trying to figure out what the coffee table had meant when it had said that Yuki would never be able to find the pen. His ponderings were quickly set aside, though, when he noticed one present was left to be wrapped. So he put the pen under the Christmas tree then sat himself down on the floor with the tape, wrapping paper, ribbon, and solitary present. It was a sweater he's bought at a department store, nothing that exciting, but Shuichi had figured he needed a new one, seeing as he was much too attached to the scrappy old blue on he always insisted on wearing. Yuki never seemed to really care about his attire, he was either dressed, or he, er, wasn't. Shuichi forced these thoughts out of his head for now though, because he really needed to concentrate on what he was doing, and that was wrapping a present. He folded the sweater and put it into its box, then carefully selected, well, the only wrapping paper he had left. He had already used up the other 15 kinds on all the other presents he had wrapped. The only wrapping paper that was left was a bright orange with gold Christmas trees scattered across it. The colors weren't very Christmas oriented, which was probably why Shuichi had left it until last.

Anyhow, he set out to his task with the most determined face he could muster. First... What was it he had to do first? "Well," he supposed, "I guess I should cut the amount of paper I'll need to wrap it." He then sized up the box with his eye, and figured he would need a fair amount of paper to cover it and not let any of the box show through. He picked up the roll of paper, stood up, and then began to twirl around in circles as the paper flew off the roll around him. After about a minute of spinning, most of the paper had come off the roll and was now tangled about him. He then spent the next 5 minutes digging through the mass of orange and gold looking for the scissors, and after finding them, spent another 3 minutes trying to find the spot on the paper where he wanted to cut.

Once that was done, Shuichi dug out the box (which was remarkably easy to find) and the end of that paper (which was not easy to find) and proceeded to wrap. It was rather difficult, as he would loop the paper around the box, and then as he bent down to get the tape the box would slide out of the paper, or the tape would stick to his fingers and he would have to put the box down to peel it all off his hands and the while he was doing this, the paper would come off the box. Yes, it was very difficult. Shuichi was starting to lose the confidence in his expert wrapping that he had gained earlier, until the ugly painting made a rather rude comment, and then he snapped.

Tape in one hand, and a roll of blue ribbon in the other, Shuichi stared down the box as it sat innocently on the floor amidst the maze of wrapping paper. Then Shuichi tackled it. The next ten minutes involved much confusion, and spectator might have seen no more than a blur of orange, gold, blue, and pink rolling across the living room floor, accompanied by threats involving scones and earmuffs. Let us be thankful there were no spectators, though, because they would have been very disturbed. Or they would have just rolled their eyes.

So the scene described above carried on for about ten minutes, until Shuichi finally stopped squirming and paused to gain his bearings. The pink haired boy was startled, not to mention thoroughly confused, by what he saw. On the other side of the living room, on the floor, was the box. It may have looked a little worse for wear, a dent here and there, but more amazingly, there was not a single scrap of wrapping paper, ribbon, or tape to be seen on the entire thing. Shuichi could have sworn the box was laughing at him. He growled and tried to take another dive at the box, only to find that he couldn't move. It seemed that in all the rolling around, Shuichi had managed to wrap himself. He now found himself in a cocoon of ribbon, paper, and tape, lying underneath the Christmas tree. A small tag was sticking out of his hair, and Shuichi figured it must have gotten stuck to all the tape while he was rolling around on the floor. It said: "To Yuki, Merry Christmas! From Shuichi"

It was at this very moment that the above mentioned decided to emerge from his office. Yuki sauntered into the living room saying, "What was all that noise..." but trailed off as soon as he spotted Shuichi under the tree. A playful smile made its way onto his lips. Yuki kneeled down before Shuichi and brushed some of the pink hair out of his lover's eyes. He let a little laugh escape him as he noticed the tag. "Shu-chan, how'd you know?"

Shuichi twisted his head around so he could see Yuki's face. "Huh?"

Yuki positioned himself so his face was centimeters from Shuichi's. "I wasn't sure if you would figure out what it was I wanted for Christmas." He quickly raked his eyes over the pink-haired boy's ensemble of wrapping paper and ribbon, still wearing a mischievous smile. "But I guess you did."

Shuichi blushed, finally taking Yuki's meaning. But to his surprise, Yuki didn't start to kiss him or drag him off to the bedroom, or anything. Instead he stood and began to make his way back to his office. "Yuki, where are you going?"

"I have work to do," he stated simply, not bothering to look back over his shoulder.

"But-"

"Now now," Yuki cut him off. "You were the one who lectured me on not opening presents until Christmas, weren't you?" That evil smile once again played across his lips, then Yuki disappeared into his office and shut the door.

The coffee table began to laugh. Shuichi shot it a glare, but didn't say anything.