There was a ghost in his office.
Roy's hand fell to the pocket where his gloves were kept, but didn't quite make it and he could only stare as the ghost walked towards his desk as though it were any normal day. Roy even braced himself for the inevitable photographs that he knew would not come.
Hughes leaned over the desk, easy smile firmly in place and Roy's dark eyes met inhuman purple. "You're dead," Roy breathed and his wrists were caught before he could even touch his gloves.
Large, warm fingers stroked his cheek and Hughes smiled with teeth that were too sharp and predatory. "I want to hurt you. You shouldn't give me an excuse, Roy Mustang."
His hands were shaking, his whole body was shaking and he put every fibre of his will into stopping it. "Who are you?" He was amazed that his voice could sound that weak. Hughes smirked, an unfamiliar cruel expression. "I'm hurt that you don't remember me. I've only been dead for a week." The laugh that followed was cold and inhuman.
Roy tugged sharply at the hand holding his wrists but couldn't break the grip. He opened his mouth to scream for help, damn his pride just this once, but froze when cool metal pressed against his chest. "That's not very polite, Roy Mustang," Hughes said, squeezing his wrists more tightly as he brought the deadly little triangle of metal into view. He had seen Hughes use them, knew how much damage they could cause, but Hughes had never threatened with them, never liked to use them as anything other than a last resort.
Fear sped through his veins as the knife point traced his breast bone through his uniform jacket. "They're crude little things," Hughes said musingly, slipping the blade beneath the jacket and tugging so the buttons fell away to scatter across the floor. Hughes smiled viciously at him. "But they do their job, I suppose."
The jacket was pushed down his shoulders, tightening uncomfortably around his arms. Hughes pressed his face against Roy's shoulder for a moment and he could feel the slow curve of his lips, the way his beard felt through his shirt. Despite himself, he felt the lazy wave of arousal coil in his belly. "I'm going to give you something," Hughes said, drawing the blade down the white dress shirt and scoring a long gash in the material. Roy shivered as the metal passed just above his skin. "I'm going to give you something you've always wanted."
A hand slid inside his shirt, fingers splayed across his chest with the knife still menacing and cold held between them. He couldn't hold back a soft whine as cool lips pressed against his neck. "You must have been heartbroken when I died. All that wasted time and you never once said anything."
Roy shook his head in denial and Hughes laughed. "I wonder if they would follow you so devotedly if they knew? What would the second Lieutenant say if he knew you watched him so closely when he wasn't looking?"
Roy gritted his teeth, screwing his eyes shut and trying to force his mind to rationalise as he had always been able to before. This couldn't be real. It was a dream brought along by the bottle of Scotch he kept stashed in his desk draw. But he hadn't been drinking today.
The sharp burn of the blade nicking the skin of his chest forced him to focus on Hughes once more. He grimaced, half repulsed and half undeniably aroused when the knife was pressed to smiling lips and licked clean of the blood that had collected on it. "There's no sense wasting it," Hughes said with a shrug. "You're very special, Roy. You're the entire reason that I've been close by all this time."
Roy swallowed, his eyes dropping closed as the knife blade pressed against his Adam's apple. He couldn't hold back a moan as the cold weight was trailed down the curve of his throat and down his collarbone, moving to circle one dark nipple.
He heard a dark chuckle from the other man. "Enjoying this?" He wanted to shake his head, to deny it, because this was sick, wrong, but Hughes... the creature which wore Hughes' face was now tracing the edge of the blade across the front of his pants, pressing just so.
There was a swish of the blade and then cool air blew across his cock. Shame blazed on Roy's cheeks, knowing how aroused he was and hating it. Lips pressed against his neck, warm wet tongue coming out to lap the sweat from his skin and a strong hand dug sharply into his shoulders. He resisted at first, knowing that he should fight. He had his gloves with him, he could just reach into his pocket... but the knife was pressed suddenly against the corner of his eye, coldly threatening. He froze and allowed Hughes to press him roughly down to his knees, the hand not holding the knife wrapping in his hair with an ungentle grip.
"You know what to do, Roy Mustang." The voice was cruelly amused, nothing like he remembered of his friend and it sent a shudder of fear and lust through his groin to be dominated so. Ever aware of the knife blade pressed against the side of his face, he raised his hands to fumble with the button of unfamiliar trousers and tug down the zipper, freeing Hughes' erection. He sucked in a shocked breath when he saw the damning circle of red that lay like a tattoo on his friend's hip, but the hand in his hair tightened, forcing him forwards unrelentingly until his lips touched the head of the homunculus' cock.
He opened his mouth and had time to flick his tongue once over the slit, before the flesh was pressed into his mouth, half choking him before he managed to relax a little. "Suck." He barely heard the words, too concerned with breathing but complied nevertheless, swallowing desperately, hyper aware of his bare legs against the floor, cold steel against his face and cool fingers tugging his hair. He curled his tongue around Hughes' cock, a whimper escaping him as the other man started to thrust roughly into his mouth.
He couldn't cry out when the knife shifted against his face, scoring a line from eye to chin. He could feel the blood tricking across his skin, onto his lips and knew that it was too precise to be accidental.
The hand in his hair moved and he was released. He leaned back, gasping for air. He brought his hand up to touch the bleeding wound, but his wrist was caught in a steel grip and forced away. He looked up and could see the smirk on Hughes' face as his fingers ran heavily down the wound, spreading the blood across his cheek. "Slut," the other man whispered, thumb running under his eye, wiping away tears Roy didn't even realise he'd shed.
"Poor thing," Hugh... the creature crooned, pressing blunt nails into the knife wound. Roy gasped as burning pain blazed through his cheek once again. There would be a scar, no matter how shallow the wound had been to begin with.
The grip on his wrist loosened and for one blissful moment he was free. He moved quickly, reaching for his gloves but the homunculus was quicker. His hands were caught again and fingers stroked over his own. "That's an excuse," was the mild rebuke and then he howled in pain as first his thumb and then his forefinger were snapped carelessly.
That hand was released and he pulled it close to his chest, trying to prevent it being jolted. Strong fingers caught his chin, tilting his head up to meet inhuman eyes for a moment, just a moment, before the process was repeated on his other hand.
And Hughes just smirked and laughed softly. "How does it feel to be helpless, Roy Mustang?" he hissed, hand wrapping around his throat and dragging him to his feet. The smirk widened, revealing too sharp teeth and his free hand stroked down the side of Roy's face once more. "Aren't you glad your best friend is here to take care of you?"
Roy winced and took a shuddering breath. "You aren't him," he managed to rasp out, knowing it was a stupid thing to say, but saying it anyway because he needed some kind of connection to the truth.
The homunculus casually backhanded him and there was more force behind his movements than any human would have been able to muster. It snapped Roy's head to one side, leaving him dazed for a moment, long enough for the homunculus to spin him around and press him face down against his desk. He jerked hard against the hold Hughes had on him, desperate to get away because this couldn't happen to him! It just wasn't possible.
The creature with his friend's face laughed and pressed down on his back and his right hand, drawing a cry of pain from him as his broken fingers were crushed against dark wood. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Hughes pressed into his tense body because if he closed his eyes then it wasn't happening. It wasn't happening, the pain and sensation of tearing skin wasn't real and in a moment he'd wake up because this couldn't be happening.
Except the pain didn't go away, just increased as the homunculus began to thrust slowly, pressing soft kisses to Roy's back and neck in a parody of love.
"Isn't this what you wanted, Roy?" Hughes hissed, biting roughly at his neck and pulling out almost entirely. "You used to watch me while we showered. Don't you remember that? When we were in Ishbal?" He laughed softly and thrust in sharply, causing Roy to scream in pain. Hands curled into his hair, stroking his sweaty fringe away from his forehead. "Pretty sacrifice," he purred into Roy's ear. "Envy was so jealous when I got to watch you. You should be thankful that it's me. I'll be gentle."
Roy could practically hear Hughes' smirk and he wished he could block his voice from his ears as that dark secret was thrown in his face. This isn't him, Roy told himself, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to just endure until the pain went away. This isn't Hughes. This isn't him, this isn't Hughes, isn't him, can't be him, can't be...
He must have said something aloud because Hughes laughed softly against his back. Roy felt the homunculus shudder and grow still and he cringed as he felt cool dampness spread inside him. The homunculus rested against him for a moment, breath disturbingly cool on his neck and then pulled out of his body. Thick liquid trickled slowly down his thigh.
He was spun roughly around and Hughes kissed him, fucking his mouth with lips and tongue and teeth before licking away blood and tears from Roy's face. "I am him, Roy. I've always been him, or rather, he's always been me." He smirked. "It took so much work to keep you safe, Roy. Ishbal and assassins and Scar. The rest of the military. You should consider yourself lucky that Father wants you alive." His expression twisted into a mask of loathing and he backhanded Roy viciously. "You have no idea how much I've hated this. Having to play this idiot and laugh and smile and pretend for so long just to protect a human sacrifice from his own fucking mistakes."
He smiled fiercely and then moved away from Roy who struggled to stay standing. "It's always nice to give a friend something that they've always wanted," Hughes said softly, cheerfully and Roy choked at the familiarity of it. "You should clean yourself up, Roy. You're a mess."
Roy managed to stay standing until Hughes had gone, then slid to the floor next to his desk, clutching his broken fingers to his chest.