Hawkeye was having a bad time.
Not that there were ever good times in war, but there were some bad times that were better than others, most of which involved getting blind drunk and doing something dastardly to one of Frank's belongings. Or one of Charles's belongings now that Frank had flown the coop.
This, however, was up there on the list of bad days as one of the worst. Not as bad as the day Trapper left, or the day Henry died (that may be the worst of them all), but still remarkably, concernedly high. And the worst part was, it was nobody's fault but his own.
As he so often was, Hawkeye was the architect of his own demise. He was an idiot, plain and simple. He should've really listened to Potter's advice from a few months back.
"Never fall in love during a war."
Hawkeye foolishly thought he would be exempt from that rule. That he was different, somehow. Smarter than the men who had fallen before him. He was not. And now, he had to wallow in his own misery.
It wasn't Kyung Soon, though she certainly had torn his heart asunder. The love he felt for her was something he'd never felt before, and it hit him like a shovel to the face. She was a beautiful, kind, smart, generous woman. Even being with her for only a short time, Hawkeye felt that his life was better having known her.
The fact she left hurt like a son of a bitch. But she had to. There were too many people depending on her to stick around just for love of a greasy-haired Army doctor.
This other love was different in size, scale, and affect, but just as bad. Maybe worse. He'd have been better off clinging to his passion for Kyung Soon and hoping to meet her again after the war.
It was something he also should have seen coming. Hawkeye was, if nothing else, a hopeless romantic. That didn't mean he was always good at it, but it never stopped him from trying. From throwing himself at anyone willing to listen and hoping he'd stick.
But he so rarely fell in genuine, bottom-of-the-heart, kick-to-the-face love.
For so many, Hawkeye was a tryst. A funny sort of guy you knew one time. Maybe you kissed him, maybe you slept with him. Rarely, you might go out on a second date with him. But you realize, after a while, that there's something off about him. That the jokes are just a shell to hide the fact he's on the verge of a nervous breakdown. So you break it off. You blame yourself, even though you know it's his own fault.
Hawkeye knows the cycle. He knows that's why he's never been married. So he tries, he tries to use the walls to keep himself from falling in love. After two years in a war he was dragged to kicking and screaming, those walls were starting to crumble. His resistance was starting to fail.
He'd fallen in love with Kyung Soon. A mistake, but a sensible one. She was a beautiful woman. Any man would've loved her. It was only that he had the privilege to spend time with her, to truly fall in love, that made it hurt.
This other love had started so slowly he hardly knew it was approaching until it was far too late. Like a freight train coming out of a dark tunnel.
It came from a side of him he rarely explored and frequently avoided. He'd been aware of it most of his life, but it was something treated by society as shameful. To be avoided at all costs. Something that ruins friendships, relationships, and gets you booted back home to Maine with your tail between your legs. A way out of the Army that Klinger hadn't even tried.
The problem lay, of course, with the fact he was in love with a man.
He'd worked through the internal shame years ago, but there was still a level of fear associated with what might happen if you get caught. He didn't care about going to heaven or hell, he never put much stock in that God fellow anyway, what he cared about was losing his job. His livelihood. His friends.
He cared about losing BJ.
BJ, his best, most brilliant friend.
BJ, the only person truly getting him through this.
BJ, the source of his agonies.
Why did he have to be married? What had Peg done to deserve him, outside of being a wonderful, doting, attentive wife who seemed to be a perfectly fine person?
Then again, the question should also be, why did Hawkeye have to fall in love with a married man?
BJ was just so easy to love. He was a fantastic doctor, and would cut off his own leg if it meant it would save a patient's life. What kind of batsh*t operation would result in the doctor having to cut his own leg off, Hawk didn't know, but regardless. BJ was a good person.
And yet his schemes were just as crazy, just as brilliant as Hawkeye's own. Sometimes even better. Not only was he a good person, he was the perfect partner in crime.
It didn't hurt that he was tall, handsome, and had beautiful eyes. Not to mention the mustache that Hawkeye wanted to eat off of his face.
BJ was a total catch. The complete package. Everything a guy (or a gal) could want. And he was absolutely, irrevocably taken.
BJ loved his wife. There was nothing Hawkeye could do about that.
But today. What made today worse than any other? What brought these issues to a flaming, eruptive peak?
Because there was trouble in Camelot.
It had started coming on slowly, because nothing save for casualties can happen quickly in Korea.
The letters from Peg were arriving fewer and farther between. She spoke less of her own life, and more about Erin's development. It was a subtle shift. BJ didn't seem to pick up on it, he was just happy to hear about Erin, but Hawkeye sure did.
Hawkeye wanted to assume the best, really he did. BJ loved Peg, and all Hawkeye wanted was for BJ to be happy. But he'd been in this war for too long. Peg was hiding something. There was no other reason why she'd do that.
Today's letter was the first in over a month. It was a scant few pages. BJ was thrilled to receive it. Until he started reading.
So rarely was BJ silent. His expression had turned to stone.
Hawkeye couldn't stand the silence. He had to talk. Had to quell the burning questions in his mind. "Everything ok over there? I haven't heard you this quiet since we snuck that iguana into Charles's shower."
"I…" BJ swallowed heavily, rereading the page clutched tightly in his hand. The paper was beginning to wrinkle in his grasp. "This can't be right, why would she do that?"
Normally, Hawkeye would have made a joke there. Something along the lines of Peg poisoning the neighbors with her cooking. But BJ's expression was so serious, he knew it would be the wrong call. "Beej, what's wrong?"
BJ glanced between Hawkeye and the letter. His lower lip was quivering. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he got to his feet and left the Swamp without another word, letter still clutched tightly in hand.
It had to have been the Dear John. There was nothing else the letter could be. Nothing else would've had that effect on BJ.
As Hawkeye dashed out of the Swamp after him, he nearly ran into Radar, who was looking guiltier with each passing second. Caught red-handed with the mail bag.
"Captain Pierce, sir," Radar began. He only ever used those honorifics when he was trying to hide something. "You've, uh, got a couple of magazines that have arrived today."
"Radar, you read BJ's mail, didn't you?" At least Radar's obsession with snooping could be balanced out by his guilty conscience.
"It's not my fault the letter fell out! The glue had melted off in that heat wave that passed through yesterday." Crossing his arms, he added, "Besides, I glued it back up after."
Sure. It just so happened to fall out and open right on his desk. Absolutely. "I don't care how it happened, just tell me, what did it say?"
"I can't tell you that, sir, that's between Captain Hunnicutt and his wife." Radar's eyes widened. "Wait, he didn't tell you? But you're his best friend!"
Hawkeye tried to ignore the way his stomach cartwheeled at the idea of being BJ's best friend. And the fact that it was Radar who picked up on it - his judgement was almost always accurate. "No, he got the letter and just ran out like his ass caught fire. If I can guess correctly what it said, will you tell me the details?"
After a moment's thought, Radar nodded. "Alright, if you already know, then I wouldn't be telling you anything secret."
"Great. Is his wife asking for a divorce?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
Ah, innocent Radar. He'd still never learned to assume the worst. "Because he's never gone so pale reading a letter from his wife. So go on, tell me the details!"
Radar's eyes narrowed. "Do you know why she's asking?"
"I have to assume it's because her husband's away at war and she fell in love with the door-to-door washing machine salesman. Or the milkman. Or the maid!" Of course, now Radar was hiding something. "I guessed correctly, you promised me the details."
"There's a lot to it! And I don't wanna tell you and then have Captain Hunnicutt get mad at me, or have you get mad at him. It always makes breakfast awkward."
One part of that sentence stood out to Hawkeye. A chip in the fortification. "Radar, why would I get mad at him?"
"Because… oh, just ask him what it says!" Radar had turned bright red, like the information was embarrassing him somehow. Or keeping it bottled up was about to make him explode. "He probably won't even be able to reach his wife anyway, Klinger's at the phone and he doesn't have the same touch I do at gettin' calls through. My guess is, it'll be held up in Honolulu."
Damn that conscience of Radar's for getting in the way. At least he had a couple of leads now. "Right. Thanks, Radar. And don't get to those magazines before I'm done with them. I can tell when they've been used!"
As Hawkeye sprinted off, he could hear Radar mutter, "Used…" before exclaiming, "Hey! How can you tell?"
Poor Radar would have to live without an answer to his question.
Hawkeye burst through the office doors to find Klinger fighting with the phone, BJ standing just behind him.
"What do you mean, it's stuck?" BJ said, voice as stern and demanding as Hawkeye had ever heard it.
"The line's caught up in Honolulu. Sparky says there's too many calls, probably soldiers from that last wave calling home to tell people they ain't dead." Klinger was the first to notice Hawkeye's sudden entrance. "Hey, Hawk. If you're tryin' to place a call, get in line. You know, you people only stop by when you need something. Why don't you ever drop in because you want to spend time with your friend Corporal Klinger?"
Hawkeye liked Klinger. He was a good guy. Great sense of fashion. But right now, he needed Klinger to be anywhere else. "Well, you know what they say about absence and fondness."
Mentally, he grimaced. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say in front of the newly-single, unquestionably very bitter BJ.
He quickly switched his attention to the issue at hand. "Beej, what happened? What did she say?"
BJ's expression was almost placid, but the tension was apparent in his set jaw. "Take a guess, Hawk. Take a f*cking guess."
"I can guess, or hypothesise, or use context clues to put two and two together, but I want to hear it from you."
"Why, so you can use that glittering personality of yours to make fun of me?"
"You know I wouldn't do that to you, Beej. When Margaret told me-" At that moment, Hawkeye remembered that there was still a third party in the room with them. "Klinger, could you give us a moment?"
"But this is my office!"
"No, it's Radar's office, you just work here sometimes."
Rolling his eyes, Klinger snatched his purse from the desk. "Fine. But if anyone calls, you're the one picking up."
"Yeah, yeah."
As soon as Klinger was out of the room, Hawkeye picked up where he'd left off.
"I was there for Margaret. Why wouldn't I be there for you? You're my best friend, Beej."
That seemed to hurt BJ more than anything he'd said so far. Why was that the hardest part? "Because it's Peg and not Donald Penobscott. Because being loyal to my wife is the one thing I'm known for around this camp. Because I know in your head, you're thinking, 'That idiot, I told you so.'"
The thought hadn't even entered Hawkeye's mind. "Not true, you're also known for your mustache."
"Goddamn it, that's not the point!" BJ was steaming now. He was prowling the office like a wounded animal, ready to fight back against the first threat. That was the wrong thing to say.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry."
Taking a few slow steps up to BJ, Hawkeye put a hand on his shoulder. BJ shrugged it off.
"I'm sorry you think so lowly of me, that you'd think I'd call you an idiot for loving your wife. This isn't your fault."
BJ laughed, something sharp and brutal that betrayed how shattered he was feeling inside. "Oh, Hawk, you have absolutely no idea how wrong you are."
"Then tell me. Tell me how I'm wrong. Tell me what happened, BJ."
Ambling over to the desk, BJ pulled out the chair and sat down heavily. He laughed again, sad rather than sharp. "So Radar didn't tell you everything, then. I know he reads the mail."
Everyone did. It was a fact of life. "Just the basic idea. That it was a Dear John."
"Give it up for our winner, Ladies and Jerks." Spinning around in the chair, BJ stared at the ceiling. "Peg has proposed a divorce." BJ's voice cracked. "He didn't tell you why?"
"No. He said if I couldn't guess, he wasn't going to tell me. That kid and his damn integrity."
"Integrity. Yeah. Or it just made him too uncomfortable to say out loud."
This was becoming unbearable. Hawkeye was starting to feel sick, and not just from watching BJ continue to spin in that chair. "You've gotta put me out of my misery, just tell me what it is."
The spinning stopped. BJ sat there for a moment, still staring at the ceiling. He stood and walked over to Hawkeye. Another pause, as he thought through his upcoming actions.
Silently, the wounded animal grasped the lapels of Hawkeye's bathrobe and pushed him backwards into the filing cabinets with a thud.
Hawkeye's heart rate skyrocketed. What the hell was happening here? He'd be aroused if he weren't so concerned.
BJ said, voice stern yet steady, "It's because of you."
"Me?" Hawkeye sputtered, "I haven't met her! I don't even write! I only know her from your letters!"
"That's not what I'm talking about, Hawk. It's about you and me."
Hawkeye's stomach dropped. "She thinks we're an item."
"She complains that I talk more about you than I ever talk about her. She thinks I've fallen in love with you and won't admit it. To myself or to anyone else."
God, BJ's face was so close now, Hawkeye could feel BJ's warm breath tickle his stubble. BJ was just so tall. Against his better judgement, Hawkeye was genuinely getting aroused.
This was… well, it was what Hawkeye wanted. This was a dream come true. But it wasn't supposed to be like this. And it was clearly not what BJ wanted. He had to tread carefully.
"So," Hawkeye said, swallowing heavily, "What are you going to tell her?"
"I don't know."
BJ sighed, hanging his head. He released his grip and Hawkeye almost fell, steadying himself against the cabinets.
"I'm sorry, I didn't need to do that. I just don't know what to do."
The fact BJ had not immediately said he wasn't attracted to Hawkeye said something. What it said, Hawkeye couldn't figure out yet. But by god would he try. "Eh, always good to keep me on my toes. Keeps me prepared for if we ever get attacked."
There was a knock at the door. Klinger. "Hey, everything alright in there?"
"Everything's fine, Klinger," Hawkeye shouted over his shoulder, "We're just working out our issues."
"So long as you clean everything up! I'm not responsible for what happens if Radar sees you making a mess!"
As if Radar wasn't actively eavesdropping from behind the nearest solid surface. Ah, well. He hadn't snitched yet, he probably wasn't going to now.
Hawkeye sighed. "You're going to have to tell her something, Beej. Beg for her forgiveness, or-"
"I don't know if I want her forgiveness."
Oh?
"Hawk, I… I don't know if I can tell her she's wrong."
An orchestra began performing a celebration in Hawkeye's head. This was it! He won! Now, the hard part would be not coming on too fast. As much as he wanted to sweep BJ up in his arms and make love to him right there on the floor, BJ was scared. "You don't have to, Beej."
BJ's eyes brightened for the first time in the entire conversation. Maybe for the first time in days. "You don't hate me for this?"
"Of course not. I could never hate you."
Out of impulse, Hawkeye reached out towards BJ. When he wasn't pushed away, he wrapped his arms around the man, holding him tightly. BJ rested his chin on Hawkeye's shoulder and sighed deeply.
"You know," Hawkeye said, "Your wife'd still be wrong. She said you couldn't admit it to yourself. You'd actually be proving her more right if you got on your knees and begged for forgiveness."
"Hawk."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
Before Hawkeye could say "make me," BJ's lips were doing it for him.
Kissing BJ was shockingly, almost disturbingly like kissing Margaret. There were the obvious differences, of course, such as the fact she didn’t have a course, bushy mustache on her upper lip, but physical differences aside, it felt like kissing a friend.
But where kissing Margaret was kissing someone he’d prefer to keep as just a friend, kissing BJ was… different. BJ was softer, more gentle, as though he were worried Hawkeye was going to turn to dust if he moved too quickly. Almost too slow, considering how much Hawkeye wanted to crawl inside of BJ’s mouth and make a home there, but one step at a time.
“If this is a dream, just leave me comatose.” Hawkeye mumbled into BJ’s mustache.
“Hawk.” BJ’s voice was shaking almost as much as he was. His strong, slender arms were trembling wrapped around Hawkeye. “Hawkeye, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
"So long as you can still remember how to perform surgery, I think that's all that matters." Hawkeye kissed along the length of BJ's mustache. It was so stupid. God, did he adore it. "I'll tell you, this has completely turned around a fairly miserable day for me."
"What am I gonna tell my parents?"
"That she left you for another man, and that you're moving in with an old army buddy who just happens to be perpetually single."
"Moving in? Getting a bit ahead of yourself there. We're still at war, after all."
"Ugh, don't remind me. Especially not while I'm trying to suck the mustache off your face. Will you keep it after the war? I think you should. It looks good on you."
"Probably, I…" BJ trailed off. Something was clearly on his mind. "Wait. Before this goes any further, I have to ask. What am I to you? I'm not-"
"You're-"
BJ interrupted Hawkeye interrupting. "Let me finish. I'm not just gonna be another piece of ass that you throw away when you get bored. I'm not going to leave my wife just to hook up with you."
Now, hooking up sounded fun. Maybe later. "I know. And I wouldn't do that to you, Beej. I-"
Hawkeye swallowed heavily. He'd never been good at this part. At telling people how he really felt. Even when there wasn't societal pressure, even when he wasn't afraid of scaring them away. After all those years of putting up that shell, the idea of being genuine sat in his chest like a brick.
"You don't have to say it." BJ said. "I get it."
"No, I have to. I'd be a coward if I didn't. I… I love you." The brick had fallen from his chest and landed somewhere around his feet. "I love you."
Taking BJ's face into his hands, rubbing his thumb through that damn mustache, Hawkeye continued, "A bomb could drop on this camp tomorrow, and I could die happy, finally being able to tell you that. I love you."
Leaning in, BJ kissed him again. Less fear behind it this time. BJ kissed him hard, pushing him back against the cabinets. How touch-starved must BJ have been. It had been months since he'd seen his wife, months since he'd kissed anyone.
He kissed like he meant it. Like he wanted Hawkeye to know that he did.
Without warning, the doors slammed open. In an instant BJ was feet away, trying to right his clothing while Hawkeye stood there dumbfounded. It took him a second to realize what was happening.
What was happening was Radar running in like a bat out of hell.
"Choppers!"
sh*t. Leave it to the army to ruin a good time.
---
16 hours later, Hawkeye collapsed facedown onto his cot. BJ followed suit on his own.
BJ looked exhausted. Hair pinned to his head by sweat, shirt covered in grime hanging limply from his form, eyes rimmed with bags that rivalled Hawkeye's own. His arm hung from the side of his cot.
Reaching out, Hawkeye took BJ's hand into his own. BJ intertwined their fingers.
"I'm glad you're with me." Hawkeye said. "I wish it didn't have to be here. But I'm glad it's you."
"Hawk."
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
And Hawkeye knew he meant it.
