Disclaimer: I no own FMA. If I did, Hughes wouldn't be six feet under right now. :)
This has some very, very SLIGHT hints at two pairings, one het, the other homo. I think you can figure out which is which. They're very slight. The het one is probably more implemented, where as the homo one you can just think "they were really good friends :D"
enjoy.
-.-.-.
He was tense.
God, was he tense.
The stress had just been piling up. Scar was still on the loose, the Elric brothers were running around doing god knows what and being in possible danger, people weren't telling him what was going on and worse of all…
Hughes' death.
Although that wasn't so much as a stress giver as it was a sadness that nearly consumed him whole. But he knew Hughes wouldn't want him to be that way.
When he first found out, there was an initial shock, followed by "You're joking right? You know, I hate it when people joke like that." He refused to believe it. Maes Hughes just couldn't be dead. He'd never be able to get rid of that man; gosh darn, Maes had even said that himself! "You ain't never gonna get rid of me Roy, I'm gonna be here to torment you forever!" Although, technically, that was a double negative.
But…god…the sight of the body…The blood stained uniform…the bullet wound they showed him…the paleness…the stop of all movement…There was no more "Hey Roy! Oh! Oh! Here, here! Look! It's the newest picture of Elicia-chan! She gets more and more adorable each day, doesn't she! Huh, huh?" and no more shoving the pictures of the blonde four-year-old in his face. That may've been the most disturbing thing of all, had it not been for Maes' face. Roy had always known Maes to have a smile on his face or a 'Wahaha' face or some other goofy look or a knowing smirk or a serious expression when the occasion called for it. He had never seen him look like this – dull, boring, nothing: an expression that could only be described as dead.
No one could blame Roy for fainting after seeing his best friend like that. Thank god Riza had been there to help catch him and prevent him from seriously injuring himself. Wouldn't that be something he could say to Hughes in the afterlife? "Hey Maes, I died from cracking my head open on the cold, cement floor of the morgue where I saw your body!" Oh yeah, that would really warrant a hard whack on the aforementioned cracked open head.
They stayed in Central until a few days after the funeral. Before the funeral, Roy locked himself away, and Riza left him alone. She knew he was going through the next stages of grief and she knew he needed time. Her interference when he wasn't ready for it would only make matters worse. Anger and depression came and went quickly, their departure quickened by the use of alcohol, it seemed. By the time of the funeral Roy was able to maintain a calm appearance in public, but in actuality he was still in pain. He actually wasn't quite sure if that pain would ever go away. It probably wouldn't. After all, there was only one Maes Hughes.
It certainly wasn't gone now as they were packing and preparing for the move to Central. In his tension, Roy was busy thinking about his lost friend. One particular thing about him came to mind; probably because it was how Hughes always dealt with him when he was this tense. Roy couldn't even remember what started it, or how Hughes had figured out it was a good spot, but the bespectacled man had a habit of scratching his friend behind the ears.
And for whatever screwed up reason, it worked. It felt good. Really good.
Roy remembered how women always liked it when he played with their hair, begging him to do it more, saying it felt so good. Perhaps it was the same feeling he got when Hughes scratched his ears.
Hughes used to say that he had an invisible dog tail – one of them bushy ones too, he specified – that would wag insanely whenever he scratched behind his ears. A tail only he could see, Hughes made sure to point out. Roy smiled and mentally chuckled at it now. Guess he really did fit the "dog of the military" idea.
But the slight moment of fondness went away and Roy suddenly felt very alone. The last time he had been scratched was before Hughes went back to Central, when most of the military came to Eastern Headquarters to avoid Scar. That seemed like so long ago. Had that really been the last time he saw Maes in person? He felt depressed again.
What I wouldn't give for him to scratch me behind my ears one more time…
As if on cue, Roy felt slender fingers behind his left ear, gently moving in a scratching motion. The colonel nearly jumped, for a second thinking the one scratching him was Hughes' ghost. But his black eyes looked up, and saw the fingers belonged to Riza, a stern, yet somehow warm, look on her face.
Roy smiled and closed his eyes, feeling his tension ease away, muttering "Thank you, Lieutenant." It wasn't Hughes, but it did the trick either way.
He could just imagine that stupid invisible tail wagging as if it was on crack right now…