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Aug. 6th, 2005 10:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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mash_slashTitle: Foot Inspection
Author: La Reine Bleu
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Disclaimer: They are not mine. They just take up residence in my head at 3am in the morning on vacation from Korea....
Notes: Because you never actually *see* Hawkeye check BJ's feet in that episode...!
For Hotspur - the keeper of my ankles. Love you. xwxwxxww
Foot Inspection
“Right, Beej – off with them.”
The lazy smile as BJ looked up from where he lay sprawled on the bed had its usual affect on Hawkeye’s senses, as did the words that accompanied it, and he battled briefly with the overwhelming urge to throw the clipboard he had been carrying around all day at his tent mate.
“But we hardly know each other…”
“Your socks, BJ.” Hawkeye glared in what he hoped was an intimidating and entirely professional manner, “Other than Frank, you’re the last person on my list. Take them off.”
There were bad days. There were worse days. There were even, sometimes, if the moon were full and the wind blowing in the right direction, ok days.
And then - there was Foot Inspection.
BJ sat up, treating him to a rather interesting view as he proceeded to remove the items in question.
“All right, all right – how do you want me?”
Discarding, for the sake of his sanity and his friend’s well being, any of the responses that first presented themselves, Hawkeye settled himself on the edge of the bed, reaching for the proffered foot.
“Is this the part where you tell me I’m going to marry a handsome dark stranger?”
“No, it’s the part where I tell you to cut your toenails.”
“When I find that stranger, he can do it for me.”
And when I find a tank I am going to hit you with it. Hard. With that decided, Hawkeye set about his task with grim determination. Ten toes. One small blister. A piece of sock fluff that stubbornly refused to be removed. And a spot just there on the arch that made BJ squirm like a hooked fish. Well, well, well…
“First rule of sharing a tent with someone – letting them know you’re ticklish.” Hawkeye admonished. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“More a third date revelation,” BJ quipped, trying as he did so to rescue his captive ankle. Despite the flippancy of the words, BJ’s voice sounded almost panicked, coupled with something that, if Hawkeye didn’t know better… Always one to test a theory, Hawkeye held on, running his finger lightly over the spot again. The response it produced really left no room for doubt, as BJ groaned softly, every muscle in his foot tensing for a different reason entirely.
Wonders would never cease. BJ Hunnicutt had an erogenous instep.
There were several things, of course, that he could now do. He could laugh. He could make a wisecrack about the matter and change the subject. He could do the infinitely most sensible thing and pretend he hadn’t noticed.
“Ha! Beej, you dark horse! Does Peg know about this?”
Or then, he could follow the ingrained habit of a lifetime and say the most idiotic thing that flew into his head
“Does Peg know about what?” Hawkeye didn’t have to look up to know he was being glared at. Or that it was probably best for him to shut up. Ten minutes ago.
“That her husband gets turned on by his tootsies.”
“Every good relationship has to have its secrets.”
Ha. Somehow Hawkeye kept the gleeful snort to himself. He shouldn’t gloat, he knew that. Not over something so mind-boggling ridiculous anyway. But any little part of BJ he could harbour for himself was precious, and he would take what he could get.
“You say you’ve still got Frank to molest?” BJ’s voice cut into his thoughts. Hawkeye nodded, resigned to the – for now at least – inevitable fact that one possible ending to this situation was just not going to happen.
“Yeah – there’s a special section on this chart all for him – ferret folk.”
BJ grinned, moving to sit beside him.
“Great,” he announced, just close enough that his arm brushed Hawkeye’s and yet again had him thinking of cold showers. “And while we wait for him to come home, you can always give me a pedicure….”
Author: La Reine Bleu
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Disclaimer: They are not mine. They just take up residence in my head at 3am in the morning on vacation from Korea....
Notes: Because you never actually *see* Hawkeye check BJ's feet in that episode...!
For Hotspur - the keeper of my ankles. Love you. xwxwxxww
Foot Inspection
“Right, Beej – off with them.”
The lazy smile as BJ looked up from where he lay sprawled on the bed had its usual affect on Hawkeye’s senses, as did the words that accompanied it, and he battled briefly with the overwhelming urge to throw the clipboard he had been carrying around all day at his tent mate.
“But we hardly know each other…”
“Your socks, BJ.” Hawkeye glared in what he hoped was an intimidating and entirely professional manner, “Other than Frank, you’re the last person on my list. Take them off.”
There were bad days. There were worse days. There were even, sometimes, if the moon were full and the wind blowing in the right direction, ok days.
And then - there was Foot Inspection.
BJ sat up, treating him to a rather interesting view as he proceeded to remove the items in question.
“All right, all right – how do you want me?”
Discarding, for the sake of his sanity and his friend’s well being, any of the responses that first presented themselves, Hawkeye settled himself on the edge of the bed, reaching for the proffered foot.
“Is this the part where you tell me I’m going to marry a handsome dark stranger?”
“No, it’s the part where I tell you to cut your toenails.”
“When I find that stranger, he can do it for me.”
And when I find a tank I am going to hit you with it. Hard. With that decided, Hawkeye set about his task with grim determination. Ten toes. One small blister. A piece of sock fluff that stubbornly refused to be removed. And a spot just there on the arch that made BJ squirm like a hooked fish. Well, well, well…
“First rule of sharing a tent with someone – letting them know you’re ticklish.” Hawkeye admonished. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“More a third date revelation,” BJ quipped, trying as he did so to rescue his captive ankle. Despite the flippancy of the words, BJ’s voice sounded almost panicked, coupled with something that, if Hawkeye didn’t know better… Always one to test a theory, Hawkeye held on, running his finger lightly over the spot again. The response it produced really left no room for doubt, as BJ groaned softly, every muscle in his foot tensing for a different reason entirely.
Wonders would never cease. BJ Hunnicutt had an erogenous instep.
There were several things, of course, that he could now do. He could laugh. He could make a wisecrack about the matter and change the subject. He could do the infinitely most sensible thing and pretend he hadn’t noticed.
“Ha! Beej, you dark horse! Does Peg know about this?”
Or then, he could follow the ingrained habit of a lifetime and say the most idiotic thing that flew into his head
“Does Peg know about what?” Hawkeye didn’t have to look up to know he was being glared at. Or that it was probably best for him to shut up. Ten minutes ago.
“That her husband gets turned on by his tootsies.”
“Every good relationship has to have its secrets.”
Ha. Somehow Hawkeye kept the gleeful snort to himself. He shouldn’t gloat, he knew that. Not over something so mind-boggling ridiculous anyway. But any little part of BJ he could harbour for himself was precious, and he would take what he could get.
“You say you’ve still got Frank to molest?” BJ’s voice cut into his thoughts. Hawkeye nodded, resigned to the – for now at least – inevitable fact that one possible ending to this situation was just not going to happen.
“Yeah – there’s a special section on this chart all for him – ferret folk.”
BJ grinned, moving to sit beside him.
“Great,” he announced, just close enough that his arm brushed Hawkeye’s and yet again had him thinking of cold showers. “And while we wait for him to come home, you can always give me a pedicure….”
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