Comrades in Arms

The shelling starts a little after midnight, on a day when everything's been so much quieter than they're used to that Hawkeye had almost forgotten to be terrified for whole minutes at a time.

Even a good, fortifying martini hasn't prepared him for when the first shell hits way too close. He and Beej share a look that says 'Oh, shit.' They're standing shoulder to shoulder (aren't they always?); Hawkeye wonders if BJ can feel him shaking. Then the second one hits even closer and he gets rid of his glass to hold on to BJ instead. It's instinctive to cling - he'd probably cling if it was Charles. (He might even have clung to Frank if he'd ever been in the unfortunate position where Frank was his only option for clingee.) But clinging on to Beej actually helps.

The tent isn't exactly a secure place to wait out a mortar attack, but at least it won't kill them if it collapses on top of them. And it's fine. Except it's really not fine. He should be used to this, but he isn't, doesn't think he ever will be.

BJ pulls him into the corner and by mutual consent, they hunker down together. It's only an illusion of safety, but Hawk feels a lot better knowing Beej is right here. Even if they take a direct hit, he's got a friend at his side, and there are worse ways to go.

Then the power gets knocked out, and in the darkness they can see the explosions in the distance. Hawkeye wishes it were a greater distance. (The shells probably aren't even intended for them. It's not a comforting thought.) He looks at BJ - or at what little he can see of BJ, anyhow - and as the ground shakes, he wonders if their luck has finally run dry.

Through the fear, a strange calmness settles over him. The world might be ending, in which case there's nothing to lose. Hawkeye doesn't want to die wondering. Without allowing himself the chance to think it through, he leans forward and kisses BJ right on the mouth.

BJ's moustache tickles, and it takes him a second to get over his surprise and kiss back, and the tent could fall in on them any moment. It's a mess, but it's absolutely perfect.

Hawkeye doesn't hear the shells anymore, doesn't know or care if the camp is still standing, because he's kissing BJ Hunnicutt. The world really could end right now, the whole world, not just their little corner, and he'd die happy. He's kissing BJ, and BJ's kissing him, and it's... perfect.

He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and BJ makes a desperate little sound into his mouth and wraps his arms tightly around Hawkeye's body, and Hawkeye never believed in heaven before. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Hawkeye prays for a direct hit, to die just like this, with BJ's lips on his, because how can life get any better?

Then he remembers Peggy and Erin, whom he has never met but already loves, because they are part of BJ and he can't help it (even if he aches with jealousy that they got there first, that they have a prior claim, that he can't have BJ, that BJ doesn't and will never belong to him).

No one should have to lose a BJ Hunnicutt. No one should, least of all sweet Peggy who writes her husband letter after letter, and little Erin who deserves a chance to know her daddy. Hawkeye can't wish that on them, no matter how much he wants to keep BJ for himself. He can't hope for happy oblivion if it means hurting the people BJ loves.

He can't stop kissing BJ - will he ever be able to stop? - but he forces himself away from BJ's mouth to kiss his forehead and his cheekbones and the tip of his nose, the last of which makes BJ chuckle softly.

Eventually he draws back a little. They're nose to nose and Hawkeye can feel BJ's breath on his lips. "Beej?"

He can't see a thing; BJ is just an outline of darker darkness, a BJ-shaped hole Hawkeye wants to climb into and disappear. He traces his fingers all over BJ's face, the line of his nose, the moustache that finally stopped him looking like a little boy in his father's uniform, his cheeks and his jaw and all of him, every beloved inch.

"Beej, I-" He stops. All he can think of to say is, 'I love you,' which is true, but he thinks BJ knows that already, and even if he didn't before he must realise now. Saying it aloud might ease the pressure in Hawkeye's chest, but he's not sure he can do that to BJ, to his best friend, to the man who keeps him sane in this hellhole and doesn't deserve for Hawkeye to stop returning the favour. BJ doesn't need Hawk to spill messy emotions over him, to make him second guess their friendship and what they mean to each other.

There's a silence. Then, quietly, "I know."

Of course. Of course he does.

BJ doesn't say it back, doesn't say 'Me too,' but he takes both Hawk's hands in his own, and it's almost enough. Beej is a good and honourable man. He may not love Hawkeye quite the same way - or hell, he might, it would make no difference because BJ loved Peg first, whatever happens in a moment of terror. But he does love Hawkeye, which is a miracle, and much more than Hawk thinks he could ever deserve.

The ground shakes as another mortar hits too close for comfort, and abruptly, Hawkeye remembers they're in the middle of a war zone. He squeezes BJ's hands, BJ squeezes back, and it's impossible to really tell, but when Beej says, "C'mere," Hawk would swear he can hear the smile.

BJ pulls him closer, practically into his lap, and holds on tight. Hawkeye lets his eyes slip shut and rests his head on BJ's shoulder, then laughs, even as the shells keep falling, when he realises he feels safer than he has in months.

~ fin ~