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[my-fool-took.livejournal.com]

I'm new in these parts, my first offering lol.

Inebriation
Pairing: Hawkeye/BJ
Rating: 13+
Word Count: 241.
Summary: “No one knew better or with more clarity than Hawkeye, that alcohol had its merits.” Angst/drabble.





No one knew better or with more clarity than Hawkeye, that alcohol had its merits.

Even if it was the cousin of lighter fluid that they had developed independently in the Swamp. It was throat scotching, mind numbing bliss.

When one drank, one didn’t have to dwell on the pain and blood and death faced daily. One didn’t have to remember the moans, the screams, the pleading of wounded boys and men, dying for their governments. At least for the time being.

When he was drinking, he didn’t have to think about BJ’s family back home, and he knew that BJ didn’t either. Peg and Erin were pleasant little far removed thoughts; immaterial as their husband and father straddled his best friend’s waist, stooping down to lap at the hollow of his neck.

When they were drinking, they didn’t have to worry about Frank or Houlihan walking in on them, because they had no fear. Being caught seemed unimportant and immaterial, even as BJ plunged his tongue into Hawkeye’s mouth and slid a hand beneath his loose shirt.

And when they lay sated and panting and Hawkeye curled into BJ’s side, it didn’t matter, because they had been drinking. When BJ tugged him closer and kissed his shoulder, it didn’t matter, because he’d been drinking.

When Hawkeye closed his eyes and wished it was all for real, it wasn’t important.

He could just chalk it up to inebriation in the morning.