Who the hell made wrapping presents so difficult?
Perhaps it was used as a torture method back in the old days. Yeah, that made more sense to Ed. It wasn't that he was just really, really bad at it. No, of course not.

A groan slips past Ed's lips as he throws the unevenly-cut wrapping paper into the bin. Okay, maybe it was just him.

For the millionth time that evening, he picks up the scissors and the gift wrap, hunches further over in his chair and tries to cut a perfectly-sized piece out of the scroll of wrapping paper.

"Fucking finally," Ed murmurs when he finally gets what he wanted this whole time. He lays the present on top of the paper, a little too happy to get this disaster over with. Every-fucking-time that he tried to cut out a piece, it was too small or too big to pass as acceptable in comparison to the item. However, he had finally cut out the right size, and he was not going to fuck this one up.

He's almost finished — he's so close — when the paper makes a tearing noise and causes the last of Ed's brain cells to fry. Of course it just had to rip right down the middle of the damn thing. Of course.

Maybe Al won't mind if the wrapping of his present resembles more of a deformed triangle than neatly-wrapped books. Maybe he'll laugh it off and shake his head, and then say some sappy shit about how "it's the thought that counts."

Actually, no, that doesn't sound like his little brother at all. He'd say some snarky shit like "so you can become a State Alchemist at the age of twelve but you can't wrap two books together?"

Yeah, that sounded way more like his brother. He would never let this slide.

Ed curses loudly. He doesn't try to stop his head when it slumps down onto the books and lands with a thud.

Unfortunately, he's far too noisy to go unnoticed by his boyfriend, Roy, who pokes his head around the corner of the room, his eyebrows pinched together and his eyes questioning.

"Ed?" he says, concern seeping through his words. "Everything okay?"

Ed remains slumped and miserable. "Roy, answer me one thing."

Roy steps further into the room and quirks an eyebrow at the mess on the table and the sluggishness in Ed's figure. "What is it?"

Ed plucks himself from his slump and stares at Roy through a messy veil of golden hair. "Why the fuck is wrapping presents so impossible? Like, why?"

Roy had been fully expecting some serious, hard-hitting question to come out of Ed's mouth, to match the look of anguish that plagued his features. He can't help when he bursts into laughter.

"Don't laugh, you bastard," Ed growls, sending him a glare.

"Sorry, sorry," he wheezes with a shit-eating grin that didn't match his words at all. Taking another amused glance at the mess littered in front of Ed, he comes to a simple conclusion. "Maybe it's not impossible, and maybe you're just bad at it, darling?"

A metal foot punts Roy's shin, causing a pained yelp. Ed's hard stare doesn't waver, though. "I am not bad at it. Just the stupid fucking paper is too thin and move-y for me. And I can never cut the right size, then it doesn't fit properly, and then I have to start all over again. It's bullshit, Roy."

Roy holds his second fit of laughter in, in fear of another bruise on his leg. He still allows a grin. "Well, I never have any of these issues. So it must just be a you-thing."

"Fine, then you try wrap this shit for me," Ed says. He leans back and folds his arm expectantly, watching Roy's smug face fade into one of confusion.

"That's not fair!" Roy huffs, his eyes widening. "This is your problem, and I'm not inclined to fix it."

"But if you're just so good at it, then why don't you prove it?" Ed says, the corners of his lips curled upwards in a sly grin. "Unless you're just saying that you're good at it, hm?"

Roy sighs and silently accepts his fate. Truth be told, he was just as shit, if not shittier, at wrapping anything. He was, of course, far too stubborn to pass Ed's snarky little comments up. So he reluctantly snatches the tools and sets himself to work.

Slow and steady wins the race, he decides. And slow and steady is exactly how he intends to wrap this damned present and prove Ed wrong.

Ed watches him with an intense flaxen eye that follows his every dawdling movement. Roy slowly outlines the paper, then leisurely cuts it, then folds it carefully.

Unfortunately for Roy's slow ways, however, Ed's patience is almost as short as he is. "Seriously, Roy, the grass grows fucking faster than you cut paper. Can you fucking speed it up?"

Roy sticks another segment of tape on with a small smirk. "Patience, my love. Do you want this to look good, or like the monster that you created before?"

"Fine then," Ed sighs in defeat, his shoulders slumping forwards. "Take your stupidly slow time."

Roy gives a curt nod and continues his work.

Five minutes pass, and finally, Roy slaps the last piece of tape onto the wrapped present and exhales steadily. He stands back to admire his work, embers of pride alight in his dark eyes.

Edward is not in the least bit impressed.

"Oh come on," he exclaims, throwing his head back. "I thought you said you were good at this. And you took, like, what, a million years to do that?" he says, gesturing towards the horribly- wrapped gift.

It was true, the wrapping was a wreck, and so was Roy's pride. Or what was left of it, anyway.

"Well you wanted my help, so, me being the naturally kind and generous man that I am, gave you my help," Roy says prudently, then adds with a devious grin, "some gratitude would do you a big favour, y'know."

Abruptly, Ed shoots to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides and his teeth bared. "Was that another one of your shitty short jokes?! I swear, I will feed you to a chimera, drive your stupidly smug corpse to a cliff and dump you off, and I will be thrilled to be rid of you."

"Don't be ridiculous, darling, your short little legs wouldn't even reach the car pedals."

Before Ed could go on another furious rant about how he is 'perfectly normal-sized and healthy for his age', Roy lowered himself down to Ed's level and gingerly sealed their lips together. He swore he felt Ed's rage sizzle away with the kiss, so he stroked a hand through Ed's silky smooth hair and sighed with content.

After their lips parted, he forced himself to bite back a snicker at the red glow of Ed's cheeks and the angry-yet-flustered look in his eyes.

"I don't know if I want to kiss you or throw you off a bridge when you do sudden shit like that," Ed mutters, his coy gaze averted to the ground.

Roy chuckled freely, wrapping his arms around Ed's small frame and pressing their bodies together. "I'd much rather the first option."

"Maybe," Ed says as Roy rests his chin on the top of Ed's head.

"By the way," Roy says with a low tone, "I think we can both conclude that we're equally as shit at wrapping presents. Agree?"

"Mm," Ed hums, "whatever'll make you feel better, Roy."

Then, Ed pushes himself onto his tiptoes and brushes their lips together into a sensual twist.

That definitely made Roy feel better.