Lesser Evils

He looked wound up so tight that at any moment a string would snap and he would unravel for everyone to see; lashing out in all directions at all sides. He would inadvertently drag many down with him when he went.

He had his eyes on the colonel; and if times were less desperate, it might be alright to let him run into the blue brick wall that was a man on his way to the top. But no, his determination and drive were quite insane and it might just be enough to move the man from the path so many had set for him; there was already too much set in motion to let him claw and bleed and cry at the colonel's feet.

The implications, the very implications, he couldn't bring himself to think about. He cast about in every direction, looked in every venue; literal mountains of information at his fingertips and nothing could satisfy the raw desire he saw in the boy's eyes.

But then again, Ed wasn't the type you tried to hint around; not only would he not stand for it, in some areas he was amazingly dense. His hormones were ruling him at the moment, his intelligence had retreated before the onslaught and was holed up somewhere in the back of his brain, hoping to ride out the siege with as little damage as possible.

Stalling tactics were only good for one, perhaps two tries; then Ed would adjust or adapt different behavior to avoid them. Ed was the epitome of adaptability, almost dangerously so; normal means of persuasion were not meant to handle the next level of evolution which Ed clearly represented.

What the real problem was for Hughes, was that he did remember being Ed's age. It might have been easier to think about this problem where he to keep a clinical, fact finding detachment. But that was pretty much impossible, in both the area of his own mind and the fact he did worry for Ed and his mental state. What these boys had been through already was downright unhealthy and now just to throw all the turmoil of adolescence on top of it didn't seem right.

The boy was literally a time bomb in a red coat. So eat up with his own self-loathing and guilt he was ready to debase himself in any way possible. Hughes actually found himself wondering, that if, (no not if, when), Ed restored his brother if there would be anything at all left? If there would be any room for Edward left in his own mind, would there be anything to reclaim; or would he be just a shell, pouring everything into Alphonse and keeping nothing for himself?

But that wasn't the matter at hand. What was more frightening than Ed fixing his eyes on someone he just shouldn't, was the very real possibility that the someone he shouldn't might fix his eyes back. Roy Mustang was a notorious hedonist, no matter how anyone tried to mask it. He wasn't lazy, he wasn't immoral, he just was. He had just enough ambition and degradation, in equal parts to drive him to the top. It was a very real possibility, and he could not be sidetracked.

Not this way, not in this very way that would make his fall so spectacular they'd never get him out of the hole.

No, he had to do something; not as drastic as he feared but probably as drastic as needed.

There was a rap on his door, then knob turned and Schezika leaned in.

“Edward Elric is here to see you, sir,” she said and then jumped back as the object of her annunciation more of less forced his way into the room. Schezika gave him an apologetic look, but he smiled and nodded and she disappeared pulling the door shut after her.

“Edward,” he started, his voice loud and filling in his own space and Ed jerked his head up and glared at him; scowling before skulking to one of the two chairs before Hughes desk and perching on the edge of it, white gloved hands fisted on his knees.

“What do you want?” Ed said in the way of greeting. “I was in the library and I don't like being summoned.” He scrubbed his fisted hands up and down his thighs a moment and looked around the room. “That is unless you got something for me? You got something? Don't you usually filter it through the shit Colonel first?”

“Well,” Hughes drawled, reaching up to scratch just behind his ear, then tap the fingers of his other hand on his desk blotter, “I do have something Ed. It's not really something I think you're going to like to hear, but see, I'm not in this to deliver good news all the time, all I deliver are the facts.”

“Yeah, whatever, I'm busy, let's make this quick,” his left knee was jumping a little and seemed to press down on it without being obvious. The minute jerks at the side of his mouth and the way he kept scanning the office like a caged tiger meant he wasn't taking this as casually as he wanted to appear. It must be a bit scary to be summoned to a superiors office. Ed's checkered past and his penchant for forgetting what he'd done more than a day ago (which was understandable because the only direction the boy knew as forward, looking back wasn't a luxury he could afford) tended to land him in trouble, and even if it was of his own making, he was always surprised.

“I want to broach this delicately, but that's not in your vocabulary, and to tell the truth there just isn't any way to sugar coat this. But the fact is, Ed, as much as I like you, as much as I want to see you and Al get what you're looking for, there are other people I have to watch out for, too.” Hughes side and leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the arms rests and laced his fingers in front of his chest. “What I'm going to do for you Ed, since I believe you can handle the facts, is just give it to you straight.”

“Before or after the long meandering speech about how straight you're going to be with me?” Ed asked. “You're burning daylight here.”

Hughes looked down for a moment, then back up. He fixed Ed with a smile, reached up to tug at the ear piece of his glasses, then folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward.

“Ed, I need you to do me a favor and pick anyone other than Roy,” he said.

“For WHAT?!” Ed shrieked, “For target practice? For a mentor in how to sit on your ass all day and get other people to do your shit work?! Pick anyone else, anyone! I'm sure I'd have a much better superior officer if I was arbitrarily put under the command of one of the stray dogs that wander in here from time to time! I sure as hell didn't ask for Mustang to be my commander,” the boy pulled his lips back, baring his teeth, he was flushed now and starting to breath a little hard, “so don't come at me with some cockamamie bullshit on how the stress of having to deal with me is to much for Colonel Stick-Up-His-Ass! What's it to you, anyways? You got an agenda to sell?! Get in line!”

“Ed, I'm afraid I do have an agenda to sell, and it's been around probably as long as you've been alive. See the fact of the matter is, I'm here to make Roy Mustang Fuhrer. No more, no less. That is the goal that was set by a higher authority if you will. You see I just believe in it. And despite Roy himself and despite you, I see things I believe in to the very end. You and Al are the wild cards I didn't anticipate showing up in the deck. The question became not where you came from, but how to pay you. Ed, you know that the military is a means to an end for your own agenda, so it should be no shock to you to tell you that in the scheme of things, as long as you're useful, you get to stay in the game. I can also see that all that intelligence you're credited with is genuine, because you know exactly what I'm talking about.”

“Shut the fuck up,” the boy said, turning his head abruptly to the side and shoving his hands under his thighs to sit on them. “So what? So you think I'm going to mess with your pet Fuhrer. You know, just by you telling me this... he... he didn't say anything to you, did he?” And in that moment, Ed's age and irrational hope betrayed him; it was like Hughes could see what had only been a maddening crush stir alight because Hughes has presented him with a possibility. Because Hughes was here, having this discussion, then it was a very real probability that this thing, this fucking thing he had for Mustang could be reciprocated.

“Quite putting two and two together so quickly, Ed,” Hughes sighed. “No, Roy hasn't asked me anything, because fortunately for me and my agenda, he can be a bit slow about some uptakes.”

“Su...so,” the boy said, affecting his non-chalantness as best as he was able, which was to say not at all, “I don't get it why you have a problem with me. You can see I'm smart AND quick on the uptake and I could.. I mean I don't give the impression I can... but I CAN keep things low and under cover. I'm good with secrets, you know that...”

“That's where you're wrong,” and Hughes sighed to see the boy visibly jump, then set his jaw. It must be so hard to be so young, so determined, so desperate. “Ed, if I can sort things out before they happen...,” he gave a small shrug, “then you're not being as careful as you think you are.”

“But I can be, I mean I can be more, I didn't know,” Ed said, sitting forward again, leaning toward Hughes. “I can keep this away from the office, nobody will have to know,” his voice cracked a bit. “I just want... I just... I need something,” he burst out and then clamped his jaw shut and squeezed his eyes to follow.

Hughes reached up to push at the glasses straddling the bridge of his nose. He then ran a hand back over his hair before putting his elbows on his desk, clasping his hands again and leaning forward.

“Ed, I'm not doing this to be cruel, you may not believe this, but I was your age once,” he tried to soften the blow some, but they still seemed to rain down on the boy like boulders. “I'm not pretending that I had your maturity level or an ounce of your experiences, but you know, I do know what it was to want. I don't think there is a person alive who doesn't have that experience.”

“Yeah, well I got news for you,” Ed said, studying the floor at his feet, “everything I want? Turns to shit. I almost wish I could just take out that part of my brain and feed it to Al's fucking cats.” He was pale now, his face tight and drawn, his eyes bright. “Because no matter what I do, it's the same old story for me. Running in fucking place, and I guess that's how it will be until I'm dead.”

It wasn't lost on Hughes that Ed didn't think that would be a long time in the coming. Something, something had to be done. Everyone needs release, but not everyone lives as hard. Desperate times, desperate measures. He stood from behind his desk. Ed moved forward as if to get to his feet, his expression clearing stating he expected to be dismissed, but Hughes gave a wave at him to stay in his seat and instead he walked to his office door, opened it an leaned out.

“Schezika, the Major and I have some confidential things to discuss. I need you to go ahead with your lunch and take your time,” he smiled to the woman on the other side of the door. Smiled as if everything were normal, (because that's the only way he knew how to smile) and there wasn't this explosion waiting to detonate in a chair in front of his desk.

He leaned back in, shut the door and pressed the lock. He stood there a moment, then shook his head and started back toward his desk.

“Being the head of intelligence here has some advantages,” he said, stopping alongside Ed instead of going to take his seat. “The first one is this office is sound proof, “ Hughes looked around, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Anything said hear stays here. The next is it gets a sweep for bugs every other day. This was one of the on days, so I can guarantee we're clean.”

“Whoop de shit,” Ed said, resigned. “Now no one can here you tell me to get the fuck out and grow the fuck up. After all, I'm only a kid. Never mind everyone else in this fucking state sanctioned boy's club thinks of me as little more than a mascot. Fine, you don't want me eyeballing your pet Colonel, I won't eyeball him. I guess you must have had the hots for him yourself at some point. Did he tell you to go off and get married so any and all scandal could be avoided? Since he's your big agenda I guess you'd do that on cue, you even cemented it with a kid...” Ed choked off as his chin was grabbed and his shoved back. He gave Hughes a very wide eyed look of surprise and a touch of fear.

Hughes leaned close and his grip on Ed's chin was the only thing that kept Ed from shrinking back. Ed's eyes darted nervously back and forth across Hughes face and he gripped the arms of the chair he was sitting in tightly. The right arm made a cracking sound and Hughes grip on his chin tightened.

“I'm going to let that go, because you're upset,” Hughes said lowly. “But that's the only time I'm going to let it go. No one ever says anything about my family, ever.”

Ed nodded just a tiny bit, it was all he could do with his chin in the titanium clamp that had become Hughes hand. Hughes didn't let him go after delivering this rather eerie, (actually down right fucking scary), instead he seemed to be studying Ed's face rather intently. Well, that was alright, for some reason Ed couldn't fathom, (other than the fact his chin might get snapped off at any time, and then what would he do? Was an automail chin possible? If he got an automail chin he'd like it to be really square, like the heroes in those silent movies Al liked so much. A square, steel jaw. Then he could really tall, ok not that tall, platform boots and clunk people in the head with it to knock them out. That would be kinda cool. With an automail chin he might be able to bite through any substance known to man, yeah, that would be cool, too), he didn't want to be that much of a smart ass to Hughes at the moment.

And the more it settled in, the more his stomach began to knot up at what he'd said. Great, another black mark, another atonement. He shouldn't be collecting them so quickly, he was spending his life before he earned it.

“I have no clue what is going on in that head of yours,” Hughes said with a half smile and shake of his head, he released Ed's chin. “I doubt there is a person in this whole military that could keep up with you in there.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised,” Ed mumbled, then sighed and glanced up at him. “I...I didn't mean that,” he turned his face away.

Hughes nodded, perched on the edge of his desk facing Ed. He ran his hand back through his hair then fixed Ed with a look.

“So, self gratification isn't working for you anymore and you're looking for outside participation,” he stated matter of factly and folded his arms.

Ed turned as scarlet as his coat and swallowed hard and looked anywhere but at Hughes. “I guess you could say that,” he squeaked out.

“There aren't a lot of options, Ed. You are bound and determined to leap off any cliff you see, aren't you?” Hughes sighed in a fondly exasperated way. “I don't like the idea of you running around out there all keyed up and ripe for the picking.”

Ed was slouching back now, scowling. “Well there isn't much you can do about it, now is there? I suppose I could go rub myself on a lamp post and that way no one else gets in the way of my dangerous attentions. I mean, I can't just go about ruining careers! My damnation dance card is full, when will these people get a clue?”

Hughes sighed again, his expression unreadable. He looked at Ed and then away, and then at Ed again and Ed raised his eyebrows because he'd never known Hughes to look like he didn't want to say something, (or shove a picture in your face).

“If it's that bad Ed, if you really can't handle it, I have a solution,” he said quietly.

Ed leaned forward so quickly and so hard he almost collided with Hughes nose. “Yeah, you can arrange it? I mean, the Colonel? I can be discreet, I swear! I can...”

“I know you could, it's just, well, I'm not sure I can trust him,” Hughes said, then he reached to grip Ed by his forearms, pull him to his feet, turned him and urged him to give a little hop to sit on the edge of the desk. “I guess what I'm getting at here is offering you an alternative. Sometimes there are just some things that can't be helped, and this is one of them Ed.”

“Every fuckin' adult I come across things they know what I want better than I do,” Ed growled, “so nice of you to sink to my expectations...,” but then he abruptly clamped his jaw shut and looked at at the man standing in front of him, then he looked slowly down at the man's hand, where it rested on the slight bulge between his legs.

“I like to think of this as a civic duty to the future Fuhrer of our country, try not to ruin if for me,” Hughes said in a strained way. Then he pressed with the palm of his hand and he rubbed with the heel and Ed sucked in a breath, leaned back on his own hands and widened the spread of his legs.

Hughes seemed to find the ceiling interesting. But he didn't stop the circular rubbing motion of his hand, in fact, he sped up a little and Ed involuntarily lifted his ass a bit from the desk. Hughes raised his free hand to adjust his glasses.

“Here are the ground rules, Ed,” he said in a surprisingly steady voice. “I don't think I have to explain to you the seriousness of this situation should tell of it get in the ears of people who could use it detramentally. But I think you can be trusted with proprietary information; you are after all a Major and have in the past, and probably in the future, been entrusted with delicate information.” Hughes than stretched out the fingers of the hand palming Ed's erection and began to press and rub the tips of them very firmly lower on the boy's crotch. Ed sucked in a breath and began to lean back onto the desk, going down on his elbows.

“I want to consider this a duty to the agenda,” Hughes said again, still not looking down, “and I'd appreciate it if you didn't ruin that for me. Also, besides my reputation I'm putting on the line here is my married life, and I think that by now you know what that means to me. So not only am I betraying my military code of ethics but the very morals I think compose basic family values. So, don't take this idly, Ed, don't think I'm playing favorites by doing this to protect Roy.”

Ed didn't respond verbally, but instead he began to claw at his belt. Hughes glanced down then, feeling the movement and sighed a moment heavily. He left off his rubbing and ignored Ed's outraged grunt of protest in favor of helping the teenager get his belt off, open his pants and slide them down to his thighs. Now, instead of being protected by leather, there was only a thin weave of cotton between Hughes' hand and his eventual damnation.

“Yeah, ok,” Ed rushed out on a pant, “I get you're on the proverbial chopping block here, don't think I'll be ungrateful. I won't, I won't,” Ed closed his eyes and shook his head, his braid slapping him in the cheek before landing on his shoulder, “I never forget the things that make it bareable.”

That seemed to be enough to satisfy the man, standing there between Ed's spread knees. Ed felt the warmth of his fingers when he hooked them under the waistband of his boxers and he began to shake as he felt the cotton bunch and pull, slide over his erection and join his pants around his thighs.

There was hesitation, and Ed's stomach jumped and he ground his butt against the desk, wet his lips and risked a glance at Hughes' face. Hughes wasn't looking at him, well he was looking at him but not at his face, rather much lower, and that made Ed uncomfortable in all the right ways. Still the older man didn't move and Ed thought perhaps his promise to be grateful might not be enough.

“L..look, you know, I just... I want, ok? I can't help it, I shouldn't! Look what wanting has gotten me; half a body and none of a brother. So I know it's bad, but I think maybe I'm just predisposed to want all the wrong things in life, like a mom, like my commanding officer, and I can't help it. I don't mean to make you the bad guy here, I know it's all me, so come on, please...please... what else am I gonna do?” he hated the sound of his voice when he begged.

True to it's nature, however, begging always moved a compassionate heart. The first touch of the bare flesh of Hughes hand on the bare flesh of Ed's cock was nothing short of a massive static electrical shock. Ed's whole body reacted in a jerk that upset a paper clip holder on the desk next to his hip. The wrap of Hughes fingers around the heat radiating between Ed's legs only made the fire worse and Ed cried out with it; now at the pinnacle of his want he floundered with what to do with it. But then Hughes slide his free hand under Ed's back and drew him back up into almost as sitting position. Ed ground his forehead into the man's shoulder, turned his face and tried to hide it in the flap of the man's military jacket and he gripped the edge of the desk so hard it make his knuckles ache.

“It's ok,” said a voice in Ed's ear, and a hand holding Ed's cock started to move in a steady, fluid motion, up and down, up and down; squeezing as it went, sometimes brushing over the very tip of his cock on a upward sweep. And he was falling, flailing, lost and drowning. He released the desk and grabbed desperately at the figure in front of him, looking for salvation, for revelation, but he only found his fingers digging into blue material and he if he closed his eyes tight enough he could just pretend this was who it was suppose to be, the person that deserved to be dragged to hell with him instead of the person willing to go for him. Still the hand moved on him, the heat drove him, the spell wove around his head and clouded his mind and he was suspended and hung and nothing could touch him and he could touch nothing. No fear, no pain, no truth, just this; pleasure mixed with dread and that was all he deserved after all, because he was a sinner, sinner, sinner and his job was to drag everyone down.

He almost shoved away, right at the cusp, but the hand on his back was too warm, the voice muttering reassurances in his ear was too soft and it felt good, good, good, and nothing and no one could stand in the way as his spine turned fluid and his voice cried out, asking for forgiveness he'd never receive.

**

He had wipes, the kind you used on little kids to clean their faces, and then Ed realized why and his stomach rolled and his eyes burned. He snatched them from the hand offering them, turning his face away. He felt a touch on the top of his head and pulled his lips back to snarl, but instead, the touch moved, over the back of his head, down the his neck, over his entire back.

“It's going to be alright, Ed, I know it may not feel like it right now, but it's going to be alright,” Hughes said out of his line of sight. Ed kept silent, cleaned up quickly and slid off the desk, yanking his pants and boxers up together with a jerky movement.

Silence still as he redid his belt, moved to retrieve his coat and shrug it on. Silence while he turned endless circles in his mind, not knowing which way to face. Not knowing what or who he could face now. Finally, because basic human decency demanded it, he looked at Hughes, who was perched on the edge of the desk where Ed has been previously. It was so hard to look at him; it hurt in ways Ed couldn't name, and he was at a lost to explain why.

“So...I can come here, when it gets too much?” Ed said, low and barely audible.

“When anything gets too much,” the older man said with a nod. “It's possible to have more than one agenda.”

There were places where gratitude lived in a person; Ed would just have to make some extra room.

“Ok then, I...I'm not sure what to say,” Ed mumbled, “thanks seems kind of lame.”

Hughes walked over, hands jammed in pockets and shrugged.

“I'm kind of at a loss myself, don't worry about it, eventually it will come to you.”

Ed sucked in his cheek, gave a nod and went for the door, he pulled it open, gave Hughes one last look and then escaped through it, pulling it shut behind him.

~fini