Fic: Operation Tango
Jul. 20th, 2009 01:07 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: Operation Tango
Summary: Radar's still a virgin, and not especially happy about it. Hawkeye and Trapper hatch a not-particularly-cunning plan to help him out, and maybe get a little time with each other into the bargain.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7342
Disclaimer: Not my property, not for profit.
An eighteen-hour shift in surgery is enough for most people to feel they need a stiff drink and a long sleep, in whichever order they prefer. Hawkeye was attempting to do both at once. His head rested on the bar and his fingers curled limply around the stem of his glass, as he pondered whether there was a method of getting the drink into his mouth without him having to raise his head. An IV would probably be perfect for the job but getting one of those would require him to get up and go fetch one, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
A fly landed in the glass, flailed and died. Sensible fly, Hawkeye thought. If only the camp had a bathtub he'd have drowned himself in one giant martini long ago.
"Radar," he said. "Order me a bathtub. And an olive the size of a beachball."
"What?" Radar said, glancing his way, frowning, and then turning back to Trapper. "Anyway, I keep saying, I don't know what it is. If I knew what it was I could do something about it. I think they just don't like me." It never took much for Radar to be spilling his secrets: one beer was enough to loosen his lips, and two could loosen everything else into the bargain. There was a good reason he didn't spend much time drinking with the others of an evening, and it wasn't just that he needed to run the camp while Henry (currently three sheets to the wind and wrapped around a nurse who was valiantly ignoring his barely-coherent rambling about the time he caught a thirty-pound carp) got on with the vitally important business of doing nothing in particular.
"You've just got to put yourself out there," Trapper said in his most uncleish tones. "You can't change anything just sitting there. Isn't that right, Hawkeye?"
"Wha'?" Hawkeye said. Trapper nudged him back into consciousness. "Oh, yeah, sure thing. No sitting. Terrible idea. It's how they got Edward the Second of England, y'know."
"What?" Radar said.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Hawkeye said, closing his eyes again.
"That's my problem!" Radar said. "Everybody thinks I'm just a kid. And I'm not. I know all kinds of stuff. I mean -" He lowered his voice. "I did grow up on a farm."
"For people there's a little bit more to it than just shutting a male and a female in a barn and letting nature take care of the rest," Trapper said.
"Speak for yourself," Hawkeye said.
"Well, I wish it was that easy," Radar said, gazing into his glass. "I can't find the right person and even if I did I wouldn't know how to talk to them."
With great effort, Hawkeye pushed himself upright and slung an arm around Radar's shoulders.
"Now, we can't be having this," he said. "Listen, don't you worry your fuzzy little head. Farmer Hawkeye's gonna find you a prize heifer of your very own. And Farmer Trap's gonna help out, right?"
"Farmer Trap wants another beer first," Trapper said.
"Barman!"
A fresh round of drinks was ordered, and a plan was afoot.
"I call it Operation Tango," Hawkeye said, in full-on plan-plotting mode. He had donned his bathrobe and a rather fetching ascot for the occasion and was striding back and forth across the Swamp with a golf club tucked under one arm.
"As in the horizontal kind?" said Trapper.
"You know me too well," Hawkeye said, grinning ear to ear.
"That's why you love me," Trapper said with a shrug, leaning back to grab the jug and top up his drink.
"You two disgust me," Frank remarked from over in the corner, where he sat trying and failing to read Great Expectations. He'd had his bookmark stuck at Page 16 for the past three days.
"You know me too well, too," Hawkeye said, taking the golf club and gleefully prodding Frank in the ribs.
"And that's why you love him," Trapper added on. Frank managed to squirm and scowl at the same time.
"Degenerates, the both of you!" he snapped. Hawkeye shrugged.
"Some days I think the Army could've saved itself a fortune if it'd just sent us a record of somebody calling us perverts to play whenever we wanted to feel mildly annoyed," he said. "Anyway, fun as it is to exchange sophisticated repartee with you, Frank, we need to get to business. Operation Tango is go, and I have taken the liberty of drawing up a plan of action." Hawkeye reached under his pillow and withdrew a piece of paper. Whistling a fanfare, he unfolded it and held it out for Trapper to see.
"Behold, our battle plans," Hawkeye said. The paper read, simply, 'find a nurse'.
"Do you ever think about anything but sex?" Frank said, by now having given up with the reading and settled for glaring in their direction.
"Given that you like listening in on us so much, you oughta have worked out that we ain't doing this for our benefit," Trapper said. "We're finding this nurse for Radar."
"What's he need one for?" Frank said.
"Oh, Frank, Frank, Frank. So naive. It's almost cute," Hawkeye said. "Radar is burdened with virginity. Kind souls that we are, we're helping him get rid of it."
"That's sick. Whatever happened to chastity? To abstinence and moral self-denial?" Frank said, lips - or rather, the parts of his face where his lips should have been - twitching with righteous fury.
"I don't know Frank," Trapper said. "Maybe we oughta ask your wife."
Hawkeye promptly fell about laughing. Frank gave them one final furious glance and stormed out of the Swamp, most probably to seek solace in a manner which gave little regard to moral self-denial. Victory was pleasant, but it didn't help the operation. Hawkeye and Trapper took it as their cue to leave the tent and get things moving.
"Oh, come on. Not one of you? Really?"
The nurses were implacable.
"It just wouldn't feel right," Margie said, shaking her head. Ginger nodded.
"He still sleeps with a teddy bear!" she said. "I mean, I suppose he's kind of cute, but like a kid brother, not somebody you'd want to go to bed with."
"Oh, please," Hawkeye said. "Hey, hey, Kellye, I saw you dancing with him the other night, surely you don't mind?"
"Dancing's not the same at all," Kellye said, folding her arms.
"Look, we'll offer incentives," Trapper said. "Any one of you does this, you can have Hawkeye."
"Darling, we've all had Hawkeye," someone called from the back of the tent.
"Who said that?" Hawkeye said, putting his hands on his hips. "That's insubordination against an officer. I demand the culprit report to my tent for discipline."
"Seriously, though, how bad can it be?" Trapper said. "It'll only take all of five minutes, you won't feel a thing."
There was much giggling amongst the assembled nurses.
"Some incentive," Ginger said.
"If you care so much, why don't one of you sleep with him?" someone shouted out.
"I would, but Trapper's terribly possessive," Hawkeye said, limp-wristedly laying a hand on Trapper's shoulder. Trapper elbowed him in the ribs, but Hawkeye just laughed.
"They aren't playing ball. C'mon, let's go," Trapper said. Hawkeye nodded assent, moving to the tent's entrance but adding as a parting shot,
"Ladies, you'd better remember you all had your chance and blew it. You'll be kicking yourselves when Radar turns out to be an animal in the sack."
"Only animal that kid'd be is a mole!" someone shouted.
"You mean to say you don't enjoy having a man forage around in your tunn-"
"Come on," Trapper said, grabbing Hawkeye's sleeve and pulling him out of the tent. He didn't let go until they were both in the supply tent and Hawkeye found himself pinned up against the shelves and being rather thoroughly kissed. Not that he minded at all. Kissing was one of Hawkeye's favourite pastimes, especially when it was hard and slow and stolen in the little moments in between the chaos. He sighed and for a moment allowed himself to forget the concerns of the world outside, focussing only on the lazy slide of his tongue against Trapper's.
Someone outside shouted, and the moment was lost.
"What brought that on?" Hawkeye said, giving Trapper an amused look as they moved apart.
"I'm awfully possessive," Trapper said, his hand still on the back of Hawkeye's neck, fingers idly playing with his hair. He shook his head. "I don't know how you do it. I don't think you could be any more obvious about us two if you got up in the middle of dinner, bent me over the table and screwed me right there in the mess tent, and yet, you get away with it. I wish I knew your secret - I'd write a book about it and make millions."
"I lead a charmed life. Don't jinx it," Hawkeye said. "I did that once and look where I ended up."
"You've got me, ain't ya? You can't be that unlucky," Trapper said.
"Every cloud, etcetera," Hawkeye said, darting in to kiss Trapper again. It lingered for a long and mutually satisfying moment before Hawkeye moved away.
"Much as I'd love to stay here necking all afternoon, we probably ought to get out before someone comes looking for us. Not to mention that we still need to figure out where we'll find a girl for Radar," he said.
Trapper let go of Hawkeye's waist and stepped back, stroking his chin.
"If the girls won't go to Radar, we had better take Radar to the girls. Let's try our luck in Tokyo or Seoul," he said. "More to choose from, and even better, when we've sorted him out we can go get a little ourselves."
Hawkeye nodded.
"That sounds like a plan to me. Only problem is, we'll need to get ourselves a bunch of weekend passes," he said. "We'll have to sweeten up Henry."
"If that's what it takes, I'll be sweeter than honey," Trapper said.
"You are already, cutie-pie," Hawkeye said, batting his eyelashes.
"Hawk, what have I told you about being disgustingly sentimental during daylight hours?" Trapper said, swatting at him. Hawkeye ducked away, laughing.
"I don't know, Trap. You gonna bend me over your knee?"
"Don't tempt me."
"Temptation's what I do best!"
Trapper rolled his eyes and headed for the exit.
"You just keep a lid on it until we get to Tokyo," he said. Hawkeye huffed.
"You were the one who started it, dragging me in here, getting me all hot under the collar," he said. "Seriously, you check this collar, you could fry an egg on my shoulderblades."
"A few kisses here and there's one thing, egg-frying and all the rest of it's another," Trapper said, pushing open the tent flap. "Where do you get the energy from? I'm surprised you haven't worn it off through overuse."
"How do you know I haven't?" Hawkeye said, following him out. "Before I came to Korea it was a foot and a half long."
"Where'd you find pants?" Trapper said.
"I had a very sympathetic tailor. Too sympathetic, if you ask me. Very fond of the inside leg measurement," Hawkeye said.
"Lot of unexpected cupping?"
"Cupping? Foot and a half long, it was more like jugging."
"Isn't jugging what people do to hares?"
"You're thinking of backcombing."
And it went on in a similar vein for some time, as they walked off to find Henry.
"Three weekend passes?" Henry said. "Maybe if it was just one of you, but I can't spare all three of you. Who'll save the patients? Who'll do all my paperwork?"
"Come on," Hawkeye said. "It's not for our benefit, it's for Radar."
Henry looked doubtful. "I don't mind giving him a pass, goodness knows he deserves a little R and R, but why have you got to go with him?"
Trapper glanced around them, checking nobody was coming, and leaned in.
"Thing is, we were talking the other day, and... Radar's a virgin," he said. Henry scoffed.
"Everyone knows that."
"Yeah, well, he's not happy about it. We offered to help him find a girl, and since all the nurses said no, we wanted to take him to Tokyo instead," Trapper explained.
"It's time our son became a man, Henry," Hawkeye said.
"We can hardly send him off alone," Trapper said. "They'll eat him alive, and then who'll run the camp?"
"Who'll sign your orders? Who'll tell us when the choppers are coming? We need Radar all in working order," Hawkeye said.
Henry frowned, clearly conflicted.
"What's in this for me?" he said at last. Hawkeye and Trapper looked at one another.
"We'll bring you back booze. Another one of those little dolly things. A new hat," Hawkeye said.
"Anything your heart desires," Trapper said.
"As long as it's small enough for us to carry," Hawkeye added. "Just say the word and we'll do it."
"Also," Trapper pointed out, "If you do this, it'll really annoy Frank."
"Well, I'm sold," Henry said. "Just bring me back a bottle of single malt. And some new fishing flies, I think I've lost a couple. Radar!"
Radar was in the office before Henry had even finished calling his name.
"What is it, sir?"
"Fetch me three times three-day passes, would you?"
"Yes, sir!"
"You won't regret this, Henry," Hawkeye said, almost glowing with satisfaction. "When we bring him back he'll be a new man."
"Well, as long as he's still able to do what I need him for, I don't mind," Henry said. "Now go on, beat it."
Hawkeye and Trapper promptly did so. The operation was running smoothly, so far.
Tokyo was all bright lights and narrow side streets, and they could barely move for the military men and women crowding every corner. They were spoiled for choice and, thus, hadn't the slightest idea where to begin.
"Where are we going to start?" Hawkeye said.
"Where d'you wanna start?" Trapper replied, shrugging.
"How about there?" Radar said, pointing across the road to a neon-lit bar, crowded even though it was still light.
"Good as any," Trapper said, and so they made it their first port of call. A table was found and drinks promptly ordered. As Hawkeye waited at the bar, Radar squirmed into the corner as far as the walls would allow him to, shooting anxious glances across the room. If he was making any attempt to disguise the fact he was silently assessing every woman present, he was having very little success; some of them gave him contemptuous looks back, making him squirm even more. When Hawkeye set a drink down in front of him, he almost jumped out of his skin.
"Okay, first piece of advice, never start looking for a girl at the first bar you drink at," Hawkeye said, sliding down into his seat and giving Trapper's knee a friendly squeeze under the table before starting on his drink. "The night's still young. You've got wait for the atmosphere to build up and the time to be right."
"What he means is that there's no point trying until everybody's properly drunk," Trapper said. Radar chuckled, and began work on his beer.
"Yeah, like that," Trapper said approvingly.
"We'll have a couple here and move on," Hawkeye said. "You've got to be careful about finding that point where you've had just enough to feel all comfy and confident, but not so much that you don't have any sense of judgment."
Radar nodded, pulling a notebook from his top pocket. Trapper swatted his hand away before he could put pencil to paper.
"Keep it all up here, okay?" he said, tapping the side of his head. "Generally girls don't appreciate it if a guy has to keep checking a list when he's talking to them."
"Oh, right," Radar said, and promptly made a note of it. Trapper sighed and took the notebook away from him.
Determining how long to stay was, as Hawkeye had said, something of an art. If it had been him and Trapper they might have had three or four drinks, but Radar was smaller, more susceptible, and the fact he was drinking through a straw wouldn't help either. He was giggling at nothing after one bottle, and was swaying a little by the end of the second, at which point they decided it was time to move on.
Twilight had set in now, and if anything the crowds had grown larger.
"Where next?" Radar said, standing on his toes in an unsuccessful attempt to get a better look at his surroundings.
"Oh, there's a great place not far from here," Trapper said. "The Pink Penguin or something."
"If you mean the Flamingo Club, we're banned, remember?" Hawkeye said.
"Oh yeah," Trapper said, laughing.
"The langoustine incident!" they chorussed, and burst into riotous laughter. Radar looked baffled but no explanation seemed forthcoming. He shrugged it off and followed them as they weaved their way through the crowds and eventually gave up searching for anywhere specific, ducking into the nearest place that looked welcoming.
Welcoming from the outside, maybe, but they seemed to have blundered. It was a sticky-floored dive full of toothless old men playing cards. The barman spoke no English and though they managed to get three glasses of some kind of spirit from him after a lengthy game of charades, they decided to leave the moment they'd finished drinking.
They staggered straight across the road and into another bar. This one was much more lively, with showgirls putting up a spirited performance on a stage at one end, and waitresses in lurid outfits ferrying drinks from table to table.
Radar happily accepted a glass of something with an umbrella in it from a tall, slender girl who gave him a wink before swishing away.
"Wow," he said, watching her go. "I think she likes me. She's real pretty, too."
Hawkeye and Trapper exchanged glances. He clearly hadn't caught on to what they'd both realised soon after entering.
"She's a he, Radar," Hawkeye said. "This is a drag bar. Of course, if that's what toots your trumpet, then by all means, go ahead."
Radar swallowed.
"No thanks," he said, a little too fast. "I think if I wanted that, I'd have just asked out Klinger." He looked up at them both. "I suppose if there's no actual girls in here we should move on."
"Oh, I don't know," Trapper said, "These cocktails ain't bad."
"And that blonde in the blue dress is definitely giving me the eye," Hawkeye said, waving in her direction.
"Guys!" Radar whined, starting to hop about from foot to foot.
"Okay, okay," Hawkeye relented. "There's still plenty of time. C'mon."
Bar after bar was visited and drink after drink consumed, and every one turned out to be a washout. Eventually, it was two in the morning and everyone who was anyone had probably already gone to find a room. The three of them stood in the now almost deserted street under a moth-haloed lamp, Radar sulking while Hawkeye and Trapper conferred in hushed tones.
"I'm going to die a virgin," Radar said mournfully, arms wrapped around himself and head hung so low his chin almost touched his chest. "I might as well have stayed at camp and saved myself the money."
"Oh ye of little faith," Hawkeye said, laying an arm around his shoulders. "I've always got a backup plan. Trap and I aren't going to let you rest tonight before you've been thoroughly devirginated."
Trapper nodded, flashing a smile at Hawkeye and moving up, putting his arm around Radar as well. Radar glanced at them both, his eyes widening, a somewhat unnerving thought entering his head.
"Um, that's flattering, but I don't -"
Hawkeye wasn't listening.
"We're going to take you to see a good friend of ours." Radar visibly relaxed.
Neither Hawkeye or Trapper had ever been given to using the services of those euphemistically termed ladies of the night, but on previous trips they'd grown somewhat acquainted with the women who hung around the shabbier parts of town. They'd happily given them the time of day, bought them drinks, held drunken conversations in shop doorways and sometimes danced in the streets, and one particularly memorable occasion they'd been given for free the favours of an extremely charming and talented young woman known only as Lily. Lily would be perfect for Radar.
Getting to her house meant sidetracking, going off the beaten path and into the quieter, older parts of the city. They walked in single file down narrow streets, some of them unpaved, and eventually came to a stop outside a small one-storey house which was slightly shabby but clearly fastidiously maintained.
"This is it," Trapper said, with a flourish of his arm.
"Are you sure?" Radar said, glancing around.
"Sure as anything," Hawkeye said, pressing the doorbell. The door was answered by a tiny, wizened old woman who looked uncannily like a walnut in a shawl. Radar's face was a picture of undisguised terror. Trapper leaned down and whispered in his ear,
"Don't worry, she's not Lily."
"Huh. You again. What you want?" the woman snapped.
"What else could three American soldiers want at this time of night? We're here to see Lily," Hawkeye said, bowing deeply to her. The woman gave him a suspicious look until he presented her with a thick wad of banknotes. She nodded and stepped aside, letting them into the front room.
"In there," she said, pointing a doorway with a curtain drawn across it. "Only one at a time. Unless you pay more."
"It's fine, it's only Radar here," Hawkeye said. The woman nodded and turned away, sweeping at the already-clean floor while they sat and waited.
"Wait, did she say pay? Is Lily a -" Radar started.
"She is, but she's the best," Hawkeye assured him.
"The very best," Trapper said. "Don't think of it as a last resort, think of it as an education. She's seen it all and she'll show you it all, too. Better to be put through your paces properly the first time so you can remember it later on instead of trying to work it out yourself, right?"
Radar chewed his lip, not looking very convinced by this. He had curled in on himself so much he looked like a woolly-hatted tortoise.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, mercifully broken by the swish of the curtain. Lily stepped out into the room. Radar's jaw fell.
"Oh my god, she's beautiful," he said quietly. "Why didn't you tell me she was beautiful?"
"Good to see you again, boys - oh, and you've brought a new friend. Which one of you is my lucky guest tonight? Or will I be treated to all three of you?" Lily said, with a wry half-smile, looking them over. Hawkeye and Trapper pointed to Radar. He waved at her unsteadily.
"Only him?" Lily said.
"'Fraid so," Trapper said. "Hope we haven't disappointed you."
"A shame," Lily said, giving them both lingering looks, but then turned her full attention on Radar. She extended her hand and he stood to take it. He glanced over his shoulder, giving Hawkeye and Trapper one last, flustered, grateful look before being pulled behind the curtain.
"I suppose that's it, then," Trapper said.
"Mission accomplished," Hawkeye said. "And what about us? Too late to go find any girls for ourselves." He yawned and stretched, putting an arm around Trapper's shoulders. Trapper grinned at him slyly.
"Well, Hawk, looks like we'll just have to turn in for the night," he said. They smiled at one another, getting slightly lost looking into each other's eyes, only breaking apart when the little old lady knocked at Hawkeye's knees with her broom.
"You didn't pay to sit around," she said. "Get gone."
"You heard the lady," Trapper said. They rose, Hawkeye's arm still around Trapper, Trapper sliding his arm back round Hawkeye's waist, for support as much as a demonstration of affection. They left. With Radar sorted, there was really only one thing on their minds.
They found a hotel, though calling it one implied a dignity it didn't deserve. 'Fleapit' would have been closer to the mark. It had solid walls and proper beds, however, and that, plus the welcome absence of Frank Burns, was enough to make it a vast improvement on the Swamp.
Hawkeye loped across the room and pulled the curtains shut. Behind him, Trapper turned on the light: the room was lit for a moment, there was a loud ping, and they were plunged into darkness again. The thinness of the curtains turned out to be a blessing, streetlamps and moonlight shining through and lighting the room with a yellow-tinted glow.
When Hawkeye turned, Trapper was leaning back against the wall, grinning cockily. Hawkeye grinned right back, feeling a tingle of excitement shoot right through him from toes to scalp.
"C'mere, you," he said, and Trapper came, pacing across the room and catching Hawkeye by the waist. Hawkeye kissed him so fiercely he ended up knocking Trapper a couple of steps backwards, and then kept on pushing him until they ended up on the nearer of the room's two beds.
"Oof," Trapper said, the two of them broken apart by the force of the landing. "Not so hard, would you?"
"You won't be saying that later," Hawkeye said, starting to undo the buttons on his Hawaiian shirt. He looked Trapper in the eye and watched his expression keenly, looking for the subtle change from amusement to lust as each one came undone. He deliberately lingered, fingers slowing, until Trapper pounced on him and did the remaining two, pulling the shirt open and pushing Hawkeye down onto the bed.
"You, Benjamin Franklin Pierce, are a goddamn tease," Trapper said, wagging a finger at him.
"Aw, Trap, only my teachers called me -" Hawkeye cut off in mid-sentence to groan appreciatively as Trapper bit down his neck. His head fell back on the pillow and his fingers scrabbled at the bedsheets as Trapper licked a path from clavicles to chin and then back again, and let out a cry when Trapper ducked down and nipped sharply at his right nipple.
"You certainly know how to make a guy feel appreciated," Hawkeye said, smoothing his hand down Trapper's back. He felt Trapper smile against his chest and raised his head to watch him move from one side to the other, nuzzling at his sparse chest hair before paying attention to the other nipple, slowly running the tip of his tongue around it, nibbling it into hardness.
They'd been with each other long enough to know all the right places to turn the other into putty in their hands, but it was a rare occasion that they got the time to explore them all. Most of their trysts were quick and rough, and no less fun for that, but a three-day pass was valuable for the opportunity it afforded to indulge in some proper old-fashioned debauchery. Hawkeye didn't consider it a rest properly taken unless he was aching all over in the best kind of way when he came back.
He reached down and took Trapper's face in his hands, pulling him up. They indulged in long, lazy kisses, Hawkeye wriggling out of his shirt and sliding his fingers up the back of Trapper's. Backs, Hawkeye reckoned, were a criminally neglected part of the human body. His first girlfriend had been a redhead and he'd tried to kiss every freckle on her shoulders; by the time he lost count she'd be so wild she'd do almost anything. Margie Cutler's back had been smooth and pale and she'd made these soft little sighs when he stroked the base of her spine. As for Trapper, Hawkeye liked the feel of strong muscles moving under the skin, and that when he dug his nails in, Trapper would growl deep in his throat and whatever he was doing at the time, he'd do twice as hard. He clung to Trapper's shoulders, both of them kissing like their lives depended on it, only letting go so Trapper could remove his shirt.
As Trapper leaned back and started to deal with the rest of his clothes, Hawkeye got up and removed his pants and underwear, kicking them across the room. He held his dogtags in the palm of his hand, turning them over, before deciding to remove them. He didn't have to be a soldier here, he thought, gently setting them down on the nightstand. Removing them made him feel more naked than the plain fact of not wearing clothing.
He turned, and saw Trapper stretched out on the bed, arms folded behind his head. Trapper's eyes roamed up and down his body, stopping, narrowing a little. Didn't take a doctor to figure out what he was focussing on.
"Seen something you like?" Hawkeye said, eyes hooded and grin entirely predatory. Trapper's gaze slid down again and he raised his eyebrows.
"You could've at least had the decency to take your socks off."
"What's decency got to do with it?" Hawkeye said, but obliged, peeling them off and lying down next to Trapper.
"I don't know why you always forget to take 'em off," Trapper said. "You've got nice feet, as feet go."
Hawkeye wiggled his toes. He had enough time to register a gleam in Trapper's eyes that signified trouble before Trapper turned and dived, tickling mercilessly. Hawkeye convulsed with laughter, thrashing around but unable to escape.
"Ah - dammit - stop it, you impossible bastard, before I scream the damn hotel down!" If he was going to be screaming it'd better be for something more than just tickling.
Trapper flashed a grin up at him and replaced his fingers with his tongue, swiping up the instep and sucking at Hawkeye's toes. Hawkeye couldn't imagine the taste would be great, given his feet had spent all day in heavy boots, but Trapper seemed to be enjoying himself and he sure as heck wasn't going to complain.
Trapper worked up inch by inch, from feet to ankle and up along one lanky leg, until Hawkeye couldn't stand it any more. And Trap said he was the tease.
"Get up here, you're driving me crazy," Hawkeye said, leaning down and tugging Trapper up by the chain of his dog tags. He pulled them off, setting them down with his own, and rolled Trapper over onto his back. If Trapper had any complaints about being detoured, they were swiftly forgotten; he made happy noises and dug his fingers into Hawkeye's hair as Hawkeye licked down his jaw and left bitemarks all over his neck, lips moving over the hollow at the base and down to his chest.
"Jeez, Trap, if you knew what you did to me," Hawkeye mumbled against Trapper's skin, feeling his heartbeat against his lips. He ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of Trapper's hipbone, and Trapper shivered and gasped. "You're so beautiful sometimes it hurts to look at you. There's some days I'm sitting drinking in the Swamp and it takes all of my willpower to not jump your bones right there - and you know me, I'm not big on self-denial. When you get home, you tell your wife from me she's one lucky woman."
Trapper's hand slid from his hair and tightened on his shoulder instead.
"Don't," he said. "Not here." Hawkeye laughed, though there wasn't much humour in it.
"Sorry. You know how I run off at the mouth when I'm not thinking," he said, rolling off Trapper. "Didn't mean to spoil the mood."
"I reckon your problem's that you talk too much," Trapper said, turning onto his side to face Hawkeye. Hawkeye could feel his voice reverberate in his chest. Trapper's tone lightened. "How's about we find a better way to keep your mouth occupied?"
"Now that's an idea I can get behind," Hawkeye said, tilting his head up and kissing Trapper again, hands roaming over Trapper's back and down his ass and thighs, pulling him close. Both of them shuddered involuntarily when their bare cocks came into contact; Trapper was hot and slippery and suddenly Hawkeye lost all desire for foreplay. He planted quick, sloppy kisses up Trapper's jaw, nibbled at his ear and whispered,
"I want you inside me."
He slid out from Trapper's arms and moved across the room to find his pants again, rummaging through the pockets until he found a rubber and a half-used tube of surgical lubricant. He knew they were probably both clean, but he'd seen enough VD cases in his day (and filmstrips about it on movie night) to know it was better to err on the side of caution.
"Worried I'm gonna get you pregnant?" Trapper remarked, laughing.
"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin my girlish figure," Hawkeye said, coming back to the bed. "And we certainly couldn't be doing with a bunch of little Pierceintyres running around camp."
He knelt down on the bed and put his things to one side, stroking a hand over Trapper's thigh and leaning in. He laid a series of warm, wet kisses up along the underside of Trapper's cock, traced his tongue around the ridge of the glans. Trapper groaned.
"You'd better hurry up down there or the show's going to be over before it's begun," he managed to pant out. Hawkeye reached for the rubber and carefully slid it on, squeezing out a generous quantity of lube onto his hand and slicking Trapper up until it glistened.
"God, Hawk, I want -"
"Patience," Hawkeye said, though his tone suggested his own was at its limits. He squeezed out more lubricant and shifted position. Taking a deep breath, Hawkeye pushed a couple of slippery fingers inside himself. He'd had enough prostate examinations, both legit and of more ad hoc varieties, to be plenty used to how it felt, and enough of a laid-back nature to find it easy to relax himself. If nature hadn't meant guys to take it up the ass, it wouldn't have seen fit to make the prostate gland so pleasantly ticklish. Hawkeye added more lube, rocking back on his own fingers, sighing as he managed to find just the spot. He got so wrapped up in it he jumped a little when Trapper's hand fell softly on his shoulder.
"I need you," Trapper said, eyes wide. Hawkeye nodded eagerly and withdrew his fingers, grabbing a pillow to rest his hips on before lying down on the bed.
"Do you have any idea how hot you are when you do that?" Trapper said, settling into position above Hawkeye.
"Yeah," Hawkeye said, arching up and slinging his legs over Trapper's shoulders. Trapper rolled his eyes.
"Smug bastard," he said. Hawkeye grinned in an exceedingly smug and bastardly way. Trapper kissed the smirk right off his face and moved closer, reaching a hand down and slowly guiding himself in. Hawkeye let out a gasp and his eyes fluttered shut. He wrenched them open again, not wanting to miss the best bit.
"Good?" Trapper said, muscles in his arms twitching with the effort as he held himself up.
"Finest kind," Hawkeye said, smirking. "Little more of the same'd be nice."
"You're very demanding, you know," Trapper said, starting to slowly move back and forth, building up a rhythm as Hawkeye bucked up to meet him.
"Would you want me - oh god yes - any other way?" Hawkeye said, momentarily cut off when the head of Trapper's cock stroked across his prostate. He arched his spine, trying to get the right angle, and letting out a moan when he found it again.
Trapper leaned over as best he could, Hawkeye straining to get closer, their kisses increasingly desperate and badly-aimed as the pace picked up, eventually breaking apart to draw in deep lungfuls of air when things got rougher. Hawkeye pushed harder, unable to think about much more than getting to that sweet spot.
"C'mon, Trap, go for it. You aren't gonna hurt me," he breathed. Trapper nodded briefly and began to throw all his energy into each forward thrust of his hips. Sweat dripped from his nose and the bed creaked loudly. Hawkeye hooked one foot over the other and pulled Trapper closer, laughing and whooping with wild abandon.
"Jesus, Trap, you're good - god yes, oh god, I'm all out of words, I'm -" Hawkeye's chatter degenerated into incoherence as Trapper pushed forward, the intensity of each stroke becoming almost too much to bear. He closed his eyes and surrendered to it, no longer pushing back but letting the pressure and heat take over his body, losing track of where he was, until with a final surge it hit him. He flung his head back and his whole body bowed upwards, the shout he made feeling like it tore itself from his lungs.
"Mmmm," Hawkeye said, a lazy grin spreading across his face as the tension flowed from him and he sank back onto the mattress. Trapper was still moving inside him but had slowed his pace. Hawkeye watched through half-open eyes, feeling a little achy and tender now but still enjoying the warmth and weight of Trapper against him.
Trapper's movements became less and less smooth, and at last he came, shuddering all over and panting something which might have been 'Hawk' and might have just been an incoherent groan.
Hawkeye felt well and truly exhausted and didn't quite register it as Trapper pulled out of him, nor as he rose to discard the rubber and tidy himself up. He did feel the touch of a paper tissue as Trapper cleaned him off, and snuggled up against him when he crawled back into bed and drew the sheets up over them. The tickle of hair against his ear was what snapped him back to alertness, and he opened his eyes, giving Trapper a grin that he hoped could convey what it'd take him a few thousand words to say.
"Hey there, you," Trapper said, grinning back. "Can't remember the last time I had so much fun."
"Two months ago, in that bathhouse. I licked your -"
"That was rhetorical."
"Rhetorical? It was fantastic!"
Trapper kissed Hawkeye on the nose and threw an arm over his shoulders.
"Well, y'know I'd love to stay up all night trading witty remarks, but I'm wiped out. Let's just get some sleep, huh? It's already getting light." True enough, the dawn chorus had already begun.
Hawkeye wriggled as close as he could, tucking his head under Trapper's chin and sliding an arm around his waist.
"Love you, Trap," he murmured.
"Love you too, Hawk."
They slept.
Morning dawned, the curtains doing little to filter out the sunshine. Hawkeye woke up with a faceful of stubbly neck and Trapper's fingers ruffling his hair. He cringed and screwed his eyes shut.
"Good morning, sunshine," Trapper said, bleary but still far too cheery for such an early hour.
"Aw, mom, I don't wanna go to school today," Hawkeye groaned. Trapper chuckled.
"That's just sick."
Hawkeye moved back a little and opened one eye.
"Thank god it's you. For a minute there I thought I'd woken up with Frank."
They both shuddered. Hawkeye was the first to laugh and Trapper followed, their foreheads pressed together, almost nose to nose. It was a natural step for kissing to follow, and for hands to start to wander. As Hawkeye's hand moved from the small of Trapper's back to cup his ass, he suddenly remembered that while it might have been fine for them to spend most of their three days in bed if was just them, they had other things to take into consideration.
He slipped from Trapper's arms and got out of bed, yawning and stretching and trying to ignore Trapper's look of disappointment.
"We need to fetch Radar," he said, searching around for his underwear. "He'll never find us and the last thing we need is for him to get Radarnapped just after he'd got lucky."
"Good idea," Trapper said.
They strolled through the streets back to Lily's. At the door, they greeted the old lady with a nod and she vanished into the house, behind the curtain, and summarily presenting them with a dishevelled, half-awake Radar. He looked a little surprised.
"Oh, you're early! You didn't need to come so soon..."
"We paid for a night, not bed and breakfast," Hawkeye said. "C'mon, we'll go find something to eat."
"Wait up a minute," Radar said, darting back inside and returning with his hat, setting it firmly on his head. Lily followed after him, wearing a silk dressing gown which didn't look all too different from the one Trapper owned, if somewhat closer cut.
"Thank you so much for everything," Radar said to her.
"No problem, sugar," she replied, and kissed his cheek. "It was my pleasure."
Radar turned to Hawkeye and Trapper, looking extremely proud of himself. "Okay, I'm ready."
"So, then, you sly old dog, tell us all about it," Hawkeye said as they turned and left, nudging Radar's arm.
"Leave in all the juicy details," Trapper added. Radar squirmed.
"Oh, I really oughtn't," he said. He glanced side to side, seeing that the street was deserted. "Thank you, though. I had a really good night, and Lily was awful nice to me. She taught me all kinds of new things, stuff I didn't even know anybody could do."
"I bet you were worn out when she'd finished with you," Trapper said.
"Oh yeah, we stayed up until past dawn," Radar said, nodding enthusiastically. "We must've spent hours talking."
"Attaboy, Rad- hold on a minute. Talking?" Hawkeye said. Radar looked sheepish.
"Well, the thing is, she told me right away that I only ought to do it if I thought I was ready and was absolutely sure I wanted to. And I had a good hard think about it and I didn't feel ready at all. So she just told me a whole lot of things about girls and how to treat 'em and what to do when I do feel ready, but I think I'm gonna save all that up until I meet somebody special." He was still embarrassed, but his nervy smile was tinged with pride.
"Well, we tried," Trapper said, shrugging.
Hawkeye looked down at Radar fondly.
"Radar, I'm proud of you. It takes real maturity to know what you want to do with yourself instead of just going along with whatever people say you ought to want," he said. "I think we can definitely say you're a man now, and what's more, you probably were before. Quite possibly even more of one than I am."
"Aw, sir, I wouldn't go that far..." Radar said, obviously hugely flattered. He allowed himself one moment of satisfaction, and then deflated, struck by a realisation. "Oh, but if we're here to get girls, what are we gonna do with these next two days?"
Hawkeye and Trapper grinned.
"We can think of something," Trapper said.
"We're in the capital city of an ancient and noble civilisation. Thousands of years of culture are only footsteps away. We could visit temples, taste the local cuisine, maybe go to a bathhouse or watch a play," Hawkeye said, sweeping out an arm to take in the houses around them. "Or alternatively, we can go get blind drunk and party until we can't stand any more."
A couple of seconds passed as Trapper and Radar mulled it over.
"The last one," they both said, almost in unison.
"Well then, gentlemen, I have several weeks of back pay burning a hole in my pocket and my liver is in a disgustingly healthy condition. Let's go and do something about that," Hawkeye said. So they went.
Summary: Radar's still a virgin, and not especially happy about it. Hawkeye and Trapper hatch a not-particularly-cunning plan to help him out, and maybe get a little time with each other into the bargain.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7342
Disclaimer: Not my property, not for profit.
An eighteen-hour shift in surgery is enough for most people to feel they need a stiff drink and a long sleep, in whichever order they prefer. Hawkeye was attempting to do both at once. His head rested on the bar and his fingers curled limply around the stem of his glass, as he pondered whether there was a method of getting the drink into his mouth without him having to raise his head. An IV would probably be perfect for the job but getting one of those would require him to get up and go fetch one, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
A fly landed in the glass, flailed and died. Sensible fly, Hawkeye thought. If only the camp had a bathtub he'd have drowned himself in one giant martini long ago.
"Radar," he said. "Order me a bathtub. And an olive the size of a beachball."
"What?" Radar said, glancing his way, frowning, and then turning back to Trapper. "Anyway, I keep saying, I don't know what it is. If I knew what it was I could do something about it. I think they just don't like me." It never took much for Radar to be spilling his secrets: one beer was enough to loosen his lips, and two could loosen everything else into the bargain. There was a good reason he didn't spend much time drinking with the others of an evening, and it wasn't just that he needed to run the camp while Henry (currently three sheets to the wind and wrapped around a nurse who was valiantly ignoring his barely-coherent rambling about the time he caught a thirty-pound carp) got on with the vitally important business of doing nothing in particular.
"You've just got to put yourself out there," Trapper said in his most uncleish tones. "You can't change anything just sitting there. Isn't that right, Hawkeye?"
"Wha'?" Hawkeye said. Trapper nudged him back into consciousness. "Oh, yeah, sure thing. No sitting. Terrible idea. It's how they got Edward the Second of England, y'know."
"What?" Radar said.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Hawkeye said, closing his eyes again.
"That's my problem!" Radar said. "Everybody thinks I'm just a kid. And I'm not. I know all kinds of stuff. I mean -" He lowered his voice. "I did grow up on a farm."
"For people there's a little bit more to it than just shutting a male and a female in a barn and letting nature take care of the rest," Trapper said.
"Speak for yourself," Hawkeye said.
"Well, I wish it was that easy," Radar said, gazing into his glass. "I can't find the right person and even if I did I wouldn't know how to talk to them."
With great effort, Hawkeye pushed himself upright and slung an arm around Radar's shoulders.
"Now, we can't be having this," he said. "Listen, don't you worry your fuzzy little head. Farmer Hawkeye's gonna find you a prize heifer of your very own. And Farmer Trap's gonna help out, right?"
"Farmer Trap wants another beer first," Trapper said.
"Barman!"
A fresh round of drinks was ordered, and a plan was afoot.
"I call it Operation Tango," Hawkeye said, in full-on plan-plotting mode. He had donned his bathrobe and a rather fetching ascot for the occasion and was striding back and forth across the Swamp with a golf club tucked under one arm.
"As in the horizontal kind?" said Trapper.
"You know me too well," Hawkeye said, grinning ear to ear.
"That's why you love me," Trapper said with a shrug, leaning back to grab the jug and top up his drink.
"You two disgust me," Frank remarked from over in the corner, where he sat trying and failing to read Great Expectations. He'd had his bookmark stuck at Page 16 for the past three days.
"You know me too well, too," Hawkeye said, taking the golf club and gleefully prodding Frank in the ribs.
"And that's why you love him," Trapper added on. Frank managed to squirm and scowl at the same time.
"Degenerates, the both of you!" he snapped. Hawkeye shrugged.
"Some days I think the Army could've saved itself a fortune if it'd just sent us a record of somebody calling us perverts to play whenever we wanted to feel mildly annoyed," he said. "Anyway, fun as it is to exchange sophisticated repartee with you, Frank, we need to get to business. Operation Tango is go, and I have taken the liberty of drawing up a plan of action." Hawkeye reached under his pillow and withdrew a piece of paper. Whistling a fanfare, he unfolded it and held it out for Trapper to see.
"Behold, our battle plans," Hawkeye said. The paper read, simply, 'find a nurse'.
"Do you ever think about anything but sex?" Frank said, by now having given up with the reading and settled for glaring in their direction.
"Given that you like listening in on us so much, you oughta have worked out that we ain't doing this for our benefit," Trapper said. "We're finding this nurse for Radar."
"What's he need one for?" Frank said.
"Oh, Frank, Frank, Frank. So naive. It's almost cute," Hawkeye said. "Radar is burdened with virginity. Kind souls that we are, we're helping him get rid of it."
"That's sick. Whatever happened to chastity? To abstinence and moral self-denial?" Frank said, lips - or rather, the parts of his face where his lips should have been - twitching with righteous fury.
"I don't know Frank," Trapper said. "Maybe we oughta ask your wife."
Hawkeye promptly fell about laughing. Frank gave them one final furious glance and stormed out of the Swamp, most probably to seek solace in a manner which gave little regard to moral self-denial. Victory was pleasant, but it didn't help the operation. Hawkeye and Trapper took it as their cue to leave the tent and get things moving.
"Oh, come on. Not one of you? Really?"
The nurses were implacable.
"It just wouldn't feel right," Margie said, shaking her head. Ginger nodded.
"He still sleeps with a teddy bear!" she said. "I mean, I suppose he's kind of cute, but like a kid brother, not somebody you'd want to go to bed with."
"Oh, please," Hawkeye said. "Hey, hey, Kellye, I saw you dancing with him the other night, surely you don't mind?"
"Dancing's not the same at all," Kellye said, folding her arms.
"Look, we'll offer incentives," Trapper said. "Any one of you does this, you can have Hawkeye."
"Darling, we've all had Hawkeye," someone called from the back of the tent.
"Who said that?" Hawkeye said, putting his hands on his hips. "That's insubordination against an officer. I demand the culprit report to my tent for discipline."
"Seriously, though, how bad can it be?" Trapper said. "It'll only take all of five minutes, you won't feel a thing."
There was much giggling amongst the assembled nurses.
"Some incentive," Ginger said.
"If you care so much, why don't one of you sleep with him?" someone shouted out.
"I would, but Trapper's terribly possessive," Hawkeye said, limp-wristedly laying a hand on Trapper's shoulder. Trapper elbowed him in the ribs, but Hawkeye just laughed.
"They aren't playing ball. C'mon, let's go," Trapper said. Hawkeye nodded assent, moving to the tent's entrance but adding as a parting shot,
"Ladies, you'd better remember you all had your chance and blew it. You'll be kicking yourselves when Radar turns out to be an animal in the sack."
"Only animal that kid'd be is a mole!" someone shouted.
"You mean to say you don't enjoy having a man forage around in your tunn-"
"Come on," Trapper said, grabbing Hawkeye's sleeve and pulling him out of the tent. He didn't let go until they were both in the supply tent and Hawkeye found himself pinned up against the shelves and being rather thoroughly kissed. Not that he minded at all. Kissing was one of Hawkeye's favourite pastimes, especially when it was hard and slow and stolen in the little moments in between the chaos. He sighed and for a moment allowed himself to forget the concerns of the world outside, focussing only on the lazy slide of his tongue against Trapper's.
Someone outside shouted, and the moment was lost.
"What brought that on?" Hawkeye said, giving Trapper an amused look as they moved apart.
"I'm awfully possessive," Trapper said, his hand still on the back of Hawkeye's neck, fingers idly playing with his hair. He shook his head. "I don't know how you do it. I don't think you could be any more obvious about us two if you got up in the middle of dinner, bent me over the table and screwed me right there in the mess tent, and yet, you get away with it. I wish I knew your secret - I'd write a book about it and make millions."
"I lead a charmed life. Don't jinx it," Hawkeye said. "I did that once and look where I ended up."
"You've got me, ain't ya? You can't be that unlucky," Trapper said.
"Every cloud, etcetera," Hawkeye said, darting in to kiss Trapper again. It lingered for a long and mutually satisfying moment before Hawkeye moved away.
"Much as I'd love to stay here necking all afternoon, we probably ought to get out before someone comes looking for us. Not to mention that we still need to figure out where we'll find a girl for Radar," he said.
Trapper let go of Hawkeye's waist and stepped back, stroking his chin.
"If the girls won't go to Radar, we had better take Radar to the girls. Let's try our luck in Tokyo or Seoul," he said. "More to choose from, and even better, when we've sorted him out we can go get a little ourselves."
Hawkeye nodded.
"That sounds like a plan to me. Only problem is, we'll need to get ourselves a bunch of weekend passes," he said. "We'll have to sweeten up Henry."
"If that's what it takes, I'll be sweeter than honey," Trapper said.
"You are already, cutie-pie," Hawkeye said, batting his eyelashes.
"Hawk, what have I told you about being disgustingly sentimental during daylight hours?" Trapper said, swatting at him. Hawkeye ducked away, laughing.
"I don't know, Trap. You gonna bend me over your knee?"
"Don't tempt me."
"Temptation's what I do best!"
Trapper rolled his eyes and headed for the exit.
"You just keep a lid on it until we get to Tokyo," he said. Hawkeye huffed.
"You were the one who started it, dragging me in here, getting me all hot under the collar," he said. "Seriously, you check this collar, you could fry an egg on my shoulderblades."
"A few kisses here and there's one thing, egg-frying and all the rest of it's another," Trapper said, pushing open the tent flap. "Where do you get the energy from? I'm surprised you haven't worn it off through overuse."
"How do you know I haven't?" Hawkeye said, following him out. "Before I came to Korea it was a foot and a half long."
"Where'd you find pants?" Trapper said.
"I had a very sympathetic tailor. Too sympathetic, if you ask me. Very fond of the inside leg measurement," Hawkeye said.
"Lot of unexpected cupping?"
"Cupping? Foot and a half long, it was more like jugging."
"Isn't jugging what people do to hares?"
"You're thinking of backcombing."
And it went on in a similar vein for some time, as they walked off to find Henry.
"Three weekend passes?" Henry said. "Maybe if it was just one of you, but I can't spare all three of you. Who'll save the patients? Who'll do all my paperwork?"
"Come on," Hawkeye said. "It's not for our benefit, it's for Radar."
Henry looked doubtful. "I don't mind giving him a pass, goodness knows he deserves a little R and R, but why have you got to go with him?"
Trapper glanced around them, checking nobody was coming, and leaned in.
"Thing is, we were talking the other day, and... Radar's a virgin," he said. Henry scoffed.
"Everyone knows that."
"Yeah, well, he's not happy about it. We offered to help him find a girl, and since all the nurses said no, we wanted to take him to Tokyo instead," Trapper explained.
"It's time our son became a man, Henry," Hawkeye said.
"We can hardly send him off alone," Trapper said. "They'll eat him alive, and then who'll run the camp?"
"Who'll sign your orders? Who'll tell us when the choppers are coming? We need Radar all in working order," Hawkeye said.
Henry frowned, clearly conflicted.
"What's in this for me?" he said at last. Hawkeye and Trapper looked at one another.
"We'll bring you back booze. Another one of those little dolly things. A new hat," Hawkeye said.
"Anything your heart desires," Trapper said.
"As long as it's small enough for us to carry," Hawkeye added. "Just say the word and we'll do it."
"Also," Trapper pointed out, "If you do this, it'll really annoy Frank."
"Well, I'm sold," Henry said. "Just bring me back a bottle of single malt. And some new fishing flies, I think I've lost a couple. Radar!"
Radar was in the office before Henry had even finished calling his name.
"What is it, sir?"
"Fetch me three times three-day passes, would you?"
"Yes, sir!"
"You won't regret this, Henry," Hawkeye said, almost glowing with satisfaction. "When we bring him back he'll be a new man."
"Well, as long as he's still able to do what I need him for, I don't mind," Henry said. "Now go on, beat it."
Hawkeye and Trapper promptly did so. The operation was running smoothly, so far.
Tokyo was all bright lights and narrow side streets, and they could barely move for the military men and women crowding every corner. They were spoiled for choice and, thus, hadn't the slightest idea where to begin.
"Where are we going to start?" Hawkeye said.
"Where d'you wanna start?" Trapper replied, shrugging.
"How about there?" Radar said, pointing across the road to a neon-lit bar, crowded even though it was still light.
"Good as any," Trapper said, and so they made it their first port of call. A table was found and drinks promptly ordered. As Hawkeye waited at the bar, Radar squirmed into the corner as far as the walls would allow him to, shooting anxious glances across the room. If he was making any attempt to disguise the fact he was silently assessing every woman present, he was having very little success; some of them gave him contemptuous looks back, making him squirm even more. When Hawkeye set a drink down in front of him, he almost jumped out of his skin.
"Okay, first piece of advice, never start looking for a girl at the first bar you drink at," Hawkeye said, sliding down into his seat and giving Trapper's knee a friendly squeeze under the table before starting on his drink. "The night's still young. You've got wait for the atmosphere to build up and the time to be right."
"What he means is that there's no point trying until everybody's properly drunk," Trapper said. Radar chuckled, and began work on his beer.
"Yeah, like that," Trapper said approvingly.
"We'll have a couple here and move on," Hawkeye said. "You've got to be careful about finding that point where you've had just enough to feel all comfy and confident, but not so much that you don't have any sense of judgment."
Radar nodded, pulling a notebook from his top pocket. Trapper swatted his hand away before he could put pencil to paper.
"Keep it all up here, okay?" he said, tapping the side of his head. "Generally girls don't appreciate it if a guy has to keep checking a list when he's talking to them."
"Oh, right," Radar said, and promptly made a note of it. Trapper sighed and took the notebook away from him.
Determining how long to stay was, as Hawkeye had said, something of an art. If it had been him and Trapper they might have had three or four drinks, but Radar was smaller, more susceptible, and the fact he was drinking through a straw wouldn't help either. He was giggling at nothing after one bottle, and was swaying a little by the end of the second, at which point they decided it was time to move on.
Twilight had set in now, and if anything the crowds had grown larger.
"Where next?" Radar said, standing on his toes in an unsuccessful attempt to get a better look at his surroundings.
"Oh, there's a great place not far from here," Trapper said. "The Pink Penguin or something."
"If you mean the Flamingo Club, we're banned, remember?" Hawkeye said.
"Oh yeah," Trapper said, laughing.
"The langoustine incident!" they chorussed, and burst into riotous laughter. Radar looked baffled but no explanation seemed forthcoming. He shrugged it off and followed them as they weaved their way through the crowds and eventually gave up searching for anywhere specific, ducking into the nearest place that looked welcoming.
Welcoming from the outside, maybe, but they seemed to have blundered. It was a sticky-floored dive full of toothless old men playing cards. The barman spoke no English and though they managed to get three glasses of some kind of spirit from him after a lengthy game of charades, they decided to leave the moment they'd finished drinking.
They staggered straight across the road and into another bar. This one was much more lively, with showgirls putting up a spirited performance on a stage at one end, and waitresses in lurid outfits ferrying drinks from table to table.
Radar happily accepted a glass of something with an umbrella in it from a tall, slender girl who gave him a wink before swishing away.
"Wow," he said, watching her go. "I think she likes me. She's real pretty, too."
Hawkeye and Trapper exchanged glances. He clearly hadn't caught on to what they'd both realised soon after entering.
"She's a he, Radar," Hawkeye said. "This is a drag bar. Of course, if that's what toots your trumpet, then by all means, go ahead."
Radar swallowed.
"No thanks," he said, a little too fast. "I think if I wanted that, I'd have just asked out Klinger." He looked up at them both. "I suppose if there's no actual girls in here we should move on."
"Oh, I don't know," Trapper said, "These cocktails ain't bad."
"And that blonde in the blue dress is definitely giving me the eye," Hawkeye said, waving in her direction.
"Guys!" Radar whined, starting to hop about from foot to foot.
"Okay, okay," Hawkeye relented. "There's still plenty of time. C'mon."
Bar after bar was visited and drink after drink consumed, and every one turned out to be a washout. Eventually, it was two in the morning and everyone who was anyone had probably already gone to find a room. The three of them stood in the now almost deserted street under a moth-haloed lamp, Radar sulking while Hawkeye and Trapper conferred in hushed tones.
"I'm going to die a virgin," Radar said mournfully, arms wrapped around himself and head hung so low his chin almost touched his chest. "I might as well have stayed at camp and saved myself the money."
"Oh ye of little faith," Hawkeye said, laying an arm around his shoulders. "I've always got a backup plan. Trap and I aren't going to let you rest tonight before you've been thoroughly devirginated."
Trapper nodded, flashing a smile at Hawkeye and moving up, putting his arm around Radar as well. Radar glanced at them both, his eyes widening, a somewhat unnerving thought entering his head.
"Um, that's flattering, but I don't -"
Hawkeye wasn't listening.
"We're going to take you to see a good friend of ours." Radar visibly relaxed.
Neither Hawkeye or Trapper had ever been given to using the services of those euphemistically termed ladies of the night, but on previous trips they'd grown somewhat acquainted with the women who hung around the shabbier parts of town. They'd happily given them the time of day, bought them drinks, held drunken conversations in shop doorways and sometimes danced in the streets, and one particularly memorable occasion they'd been given for free the favours of an extremely charming and talented young woman known only as Lily. Lily would be perfect for Radar.
Getting to her house meant sidetracking, going off the beaten path and into the quieter, older parts of the city. They walked in single file down narrow streets, some of them unpaved, and eventually came to a stop outside a small one-storey house which was slightly shabby but clearly fastidiously maintained.
"This is it," Trapper said, with a flourish of his arm.
"Are you sure?" Radar said, glancing around.
"Sure as anything," Hawkeye said, pressing the doorbell. The door was answered by a tiny, wizened old woman who looked uncannily like a walnut in a shawl. Radar's face was a picture of undisguised terror. Trapper leaned down and whispered in his ear,
"Don't worry, she's not Lily."
"Huh. You again. What you want?" the woman snapped.
"What else could three American soldiers want at this time of night? We're here to see Lily," Hawkeye said, bowing deeply to her. The woman gave him a suspicious look until he presented her with a thick wad of banknotes. She nodded and stepped aside, letting them into the front room.
"In there," she said, pointing a doorway with a curtain drawn across it. "Only one at a time. Unless you pay more."
"It's fine, it's only Radar here," Hawkeye said. The woman nodded and turned away, sweeping at the already-clean floor while they sat and waited.
"Wait, did she say pay? Is Lily a -" Radar started.
"She is, but she's the best," Hawkeye assured him.
"The very best," Trapper said. "Don't think of it as a last resort, think of it as an education. She's seen it all and she'll show you it all, too. Better to be put through your paces properly the first time so you can remember it later on instead of trying to work it out yourself, right?"
Radar chewed his lip, not looking very convinced by this. He had curled in on himself so much he looked like a woolly-hatted tortoise.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, mercifully broken by the swish of the curtain. Lily stepped out into the room. Radar's jaw fell.
"Oh my god, she's beautiful," he said quietly. "Why didn't you tell me she was beautiful?"
"Good to see you again, boys - oh, and you've brought a new friend. Which one of you is my lucky guest tonight? Or will I be treated to all three of you?" Lily said, with a wry half-smile, looking them over. Hawkeye and Trapper pointed to Radar. He waved at her unsteadily.
"Only him?" Lily said.
"'Fraid so," Trapper said. "Hope we haven't disappointed you."
"A shame," Lily said, giving them both lingering looks, but then turned her full attention on Radar. She extended her hand and he stood to take it. He glanced over his shoulder, giving Hawkeye and Trapper one last, flustered, grateful look before being pulled behind the curtain.
"I suppose that's it, then," Trapper said.
"Mission accomplished," Hawkeye said. "And what about us? Too late to go find any girls for ourselves." He yawned and stretched, putting an arm around Trapper's shoulders. Trapper grinned at him slyly.
"Well, Hawk, looks like we'll just have to turn in for the night," he said. They smiled at one another, getting slightly lost looking into each other's eyes, only breaking apart when the little old lady knocked at Hawkeye's knees with her broom.
"You didn't pay to sit around," she said. "Get gone."
"You heard the lady," Trapper said. They rose, Hawkeye's arm still around Trapper, Trapper sliding his arm back round Hawkeye's waist, for support as much as a demonstration of affection. They left. With Radar sorted, there was really only one thing on their minds.
They found a hotel, though calling it one implied a dignity it didn't deserve. 'Fleapit' would have been closer to the mark. It had solid walls and proper beds, however, and that, plus the welcome absence of Frank Burns, was enough to make it a vast improvement on the Swamp.
Hawkeye loped across the room and pulled the curtains shut. Behind him, Trapper turned on the light: the room was lit for a moment, there was a loud ping, and they were plunged into darkness again. The thinness of the curtains turned out to be a blessing, streetlamps and moonlight shining through and lighting the room with a yellow-tinted glow.
When Hawkeye turned, Trapper was leaning back against the wall, grinning cockily. Hawkeye grinned right back, feeling a tingle of excitement shoot right through him from toes to scalp.
"C'mere, you," he said, and Trapper came, pacing across the room and catching Hawkeye by the waist. Hawkeye kissed him so fiercely he ended up knocking Trapper a couple of steps backwards, and then kept on pushing him until they ended up on the nearer of the room's two beds.
"Oof," Trapper said, the two of them broken apart by the force of the landing. "Not so hard, would you?"
"You won't be saying that later," Hawkeye said, starting to undo the buttons on his Hawaiian shirt. He looked Trapper in the eye and watched his expression keenly, looking for the subtle change from amusement to lust as each one came undone. He deliberately lingered, fingers slowing, until Trapper pounced on him and did the remaining two, pulling the shirt open and pushing Hawkeye down onto the bed.
"You, Benjamin Franklin Pierce, are a goddamn tease," Trapper said, wagging a finger at him.
"Aw, Trap, only my teachers called me -" Hawkeye cut off in mid-sentence to groan appreciatively as Trapper bit down his neck. His head fell back on the pillow and his fingers scrabbled at the bedsheets as Trapper licked a path from clavicles to chin and then back again, and let out a cry when Trapper ducked down and nipped sharply at his right nipple.
"You certainly know how to make a guy feel appreciated," Hawkeye said, smoothing his hand down Trapper's back. He felt Trapper smile against his chest and raised his head to watch him move from one side to the other, nuzzling at his sparse chest hair before paying attention to the other nipple, slowly running the tip of his tongue around it, nibbling it into hardness.
They'd been with each other long enough to know all the right places to turn the other into putty in their hands, but it was a rare occasion that they got the time to explore them all. Most of their trysts were quick and rough, and no less fun for that, but a three-day pass was valuable for the opportunity it afforded to indulge in some proper old-fashioned debauchery. Hawkeye didn't consider it a rest properly taken unless he was aching all over in the best kind of way when he came back.
He reached down and took Trapper's face in his hands, pulling him up. They indulged in long, lazy kisses, Hawkeye wriggling out of his shirt and sliding his fingers up the back of Trapper's. Backs, Hawkeye reckoned, were a criminally neglected part of the human body. His first girlfriend had been a redhead and he'd tried to kiss every freckle on her shoulders; by the time he lost count she'd be so wild she'd do almost anything. Margie Cutler's back had been smooth and pale and she'd made these soft little sighs when he stroked the base of her spine. As for Trapper, Hawkeye liked the feel of strong muscles moving under the skin, and that when he dug his nails in, Trapper would growl deep in his throat and whatever he was doing at the time, he'd do twice as hard. He clung to Trapper's shoulders, both of them kissing like their lives depended on it, only letting go so Trapper could remove his shirt.
As Trapper leaned back and started to deal with the rest of his clothes, Hawkeye got up and removed his pants and underwear, kicking them across the room. He held his dogtags in the palm of his hand, turning them over, before deciding to remove them. He didn't have to be a soldier here, he thought, gently setting them down on the nightstand. Removing them made him feel more naked than the plain fact of not wearing clothing.
He turned, and saw Trapper stretched out on the bed, arms folded behind his head. Trapper's eyes roamed up and down his body, stopping, narrowing a little. Didn't take a doctor to figure out what he was focussing on.
"Seen something you like?" Hawkeye said, eyes hooded and grin entirely predatory. Trapper's gaze slid down again and he raised his eyebrows.
"You could've at least had the decency to take your socks off."
"What's decency got to do with it?" Hawkeye said, but obliged, peeling them off and lying down next to Trapper.
"I don't know why you always forget to take 'em off," Trapper said. "You've got nice feet, as feet go."
Hawkeye wiggled his toes. He had enough time to register a gleam in Trapper's eyes that signified trouble before Trapper turned and dived, tickling mercilessly. Hawkeye convulsed with laughter, thrashing around but unable to escape.
"Ah - dammit - stop it, you impossible bastard, before I scream the damn hotel down!" If he was going to be screaming it'd better be for something more than just tickling.
Trapper flashed a grin up at him and replaced his fingers with his tongue, swiping up the instep and sucking at Hawkeye's toes. Hawkeye couldn't imagine the taste would be great, given his feet had spent all day in heavy boots, but Trapper seemed to be enjoying himself and he sure as heck wasn't going to complain.
Trapper worked up inch by inch, from feet to ankle and up along one lanky leg, until Hawkeye couldn't stand it any more. And Trap said he was the tease.
"Get up here, you're driving me crazy," Hawkeye said, leaning down and tugging Trapper up by the chain of his dog tags. He pulled them off, setting them down with his own, and rolled Trapper over onto his back. If Trapper had any complaints about being detoured, they were swiftly forgotten; he made happy noises and dug his fingers into Hawkeye's hair as Hawkeye licked down his jaw and left bitemarks all over his neck, lips moving over the hollow at the base and down to his chest.
"Jeez, Trap, if you knew what you did to me," Hawkeye mumbled against Trapper's skin, feeling his heartbeat against his lips. He ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of Trapper's hipbone, and Trapper shivered and gasped. "You're so beautiful sometimes it hurts to look at you. There's some days I'm sitting drinking in the Swamp and it takes all of my willpower to not jump your bones right there - and you know me, I'm not big on self-denial. When you get home, you tell your wife from me she's one lucky woman."
Trapper's hand slid from his hair and tightened on his shoulder instead.
"Don't," he said. "Not here." Hawkeye laughed, though there wasn't much humour in it.
"Sorry. You know how I run off at the mouth when I'm not thinking," he said, rolling off Trapper. "Didn't mean to spoil the mood."
"I reckon your problem's that you talk too much," Trapper said, turning onto his side to face Hawkeye. Hawkeye could feel his voice reverberate in his chest. Trapper's tone lightened. "How's about we find a better way to keep your mouth occupied?"
"Now that's an idea I can get behind," Hawkeye said, tilting his head up and kissing Trapper again, hands roaming over Trapper's back and down his ass and thighs, pulling him close. Both of them shuddered involuntarily when their bare cocks came into contact; Trapper was hot and slippery and suddenly Hawkeye lost all desire for foreplay. He planted quick, sloppy kisses up Trapper's jaw, nibbled at his ear and whispered,
"I want you inside me."
He slid out from Trapper's arms and moved across the room to find his pants again, rummaging through the pockets until he found a rubber and a half-used tube of surgical lubricant. He knew they were probably both clean, but he'd seen enough VD cases in his day (and filmstrips about it on movie night) to know it was better to err on the side of caution.
"Worried I'm gonna get you pregnant?" Trapper remarked, laughing.
"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin my girlish figure," Hawkeye said, coming back to the bed. "And we certainly couldn't be doing with a bunch of little Pierceintyres running around camp."
He knelt down on the bed and put his things to one side, stroking a hand over Trapper's thigh and leaning in. He laid a series of warm, wet kisses up along the underside of Trapper's cock, traced his tongue around the ridge of the glans. Trapper groaned.
"You'd better hurry up down there or the show's going to be over before it's begun," he managed to pant out. Hawkeye reached for the rubber and carefully slid it on, squeezing out a generous quantity of lube onto his hand and slicking Trapper up until it glistened.
"God, Hawk, I want -"
"Patience," Hawkeye said, though his tone suggested his own was at its limits. He squeezed out more lubricant and shifted position. Taking a deep breath, Hawkeye pushed a couple of slippery fingers inside himself. He'd had enough prostate examinations, both legit and of more ad hoc varieties, to be plenty used to how it felt, and enough of a laid-back nature to find it easy to relax himself. If nature hadn't meant guys to take it up the ass, it wouldn't have seen fit to make the prostate gland so pleasantly ticklish. Hawkeye added more lube, rocking back on his own fingers, sighing as he managed to find just the spot. He got so wrapped up in it he jumped a little when Trapper's hand fell softly on his shoulder.
"I need you," Trapper said, eyes wide. Hawkeye nodded eagerly and withdrew his fingers, grabbing a pillow to rest his hips on before lying down on the bed.
"Do you have any idea how hot you are when you do that?" Trapper said, settling into position above Hawkeye.
"Yeah," Hawkeye said, arching up and slinging his legs over Trapper's shoulders. Trapper rolled his eyes.
"Smug bastard," he said. Hawkeye grinned in an exceedingly smug and bastardly way. Trapper kissed the smirk right off his face and moved closer, reaching a hand down and slowly guiding himself in. Hawkeye let out a gasp and his eyes fluttered shut. He wrenched them open again, not wanting to miss the best bit.
"Good?" Trapper said, muscles in his arms twitching with the effort as he held himself up.
"Finest kind," Hawkeye said, smirking. "Little more of the same'd be nice."
"You're very demanding, you know," Trapper said, starting to slowly move back and forth, building up a rhythm as Hawkeye bucked up to meet him.
"Would you want me - oh god yes - any other way?" Hawkeye said, momentarily cut off when the head of Trapper's cock stroked across his prostate. He arched his spine, trying to get the right angle, and letting out a moan when he found it again.
Trapper leaned over as best he could, Hawkeye straining to get closer, their kisses increasingly desperate and badly-aimed as the pace picked up, eventually breaking apart to draw in deep lungfuls of air when things got rougher. Hawkeye pushed harder, unable to think about much more than getting to that sweet spot.
"C'mon, Trap, go for it. You aren't gonna hurt me," he breathed. Trapper nodded briefly and began to throw all his energy into each forward thrust of his hips. Sweat dripped from his nose and the bed creaked loudly. Hawkeye hooked one foot over the other and pulled Trapper closer, laughing and whooping with wild abandon.
"Jesus, Trap, you're good - god yes, oh god, I'm all out of words, I'm -" Hawkeye's chatter degenerated into incoherence as Trapper pushed forward, the intensity of each stroke becoming almost too much to bear. He closed his eyes and surrendered to it, no longer pushing back but letting the pressure and heat take over his body, losing track of where he was, until with a final surge it hit him. He flung his head back and his whole body bowed upwards, the shout he made feeling like it tore itself from his lungs.
"Mmmm," Hawkeye said, a lazy grin spreading across his face as the tension flowed from him and he sank back onto the mattress. Trapper was still moving inside him but had slowed his pace. Hawkeye watched through half-open eyes, feeling a little achy and tender now but still enjoying the warmth and weight of Trapper against him.
Trapper's movements became less and less smooth, and at last he came, shuddering all over and panting something which might have been 'Hawk' and might have just been an incoherent groan.
Hawkeye felt well and truly exhausted and didn't quite register it as Trapper pulled out of him, nor as he rose to discard the rubber and tidy himself up. He did feel the touch of a paper tissue as Trapper cleaned him off, and snuggled up against him when he crawled back into bed and drew the sheets up over them. The tickle of hair against his ear was what snapped him back to alertness, and he opened his eyes, giving Trapper a grin that he hoped could convey what it'd take him a few thousand words to say.
"Hey there, you," Trapper said, grinning back. "Can't remember the last time I had so much fun."
"Two months ago, in that bathhouse. I licked your -"
"That was rhetorical."
"Rhetorical? It was fantastic!"
Trapper kissed Hawkeye on the nose and threw an arm over his shoulders.
"Well, y'know I'd love to stay up all night trading witty remarks, but I'm wiped out. Let's just get some sleep, huh? It's already getting light." True enough, the dawn chorus had already begun.
Hawkeye wriggled as close as he could, tucking his head under Trapper's chin and sliding an arm around his waist.
"Love you, Trap," he murmured.
"Love you too, Hawk."
They slept.
Morning dawned, the curtains doing little to filter out the sunshine. Hawkeye woke up with a faceful of stubbly neck and Trapper's fingers ruffling his hair. He cringed and screwed his eyes shut.
"Good morning, sunshine," Trapper said, bleary but still far too cheery for such an early hour.
"Aw, mom, I don't wanna go to school today," Hawkeye groaned. Trapper chuckled.
"That's just sick."
Hawkeye moved back a little and opened one eye.
"Thank god it's you. For a minute there I thought I'd woken up with Frank."
They both shuddered. Hawkeye was the first to laugh and Trapper followed, their foreheads pressed together, almost nose to nose. It was a natural step for kissing to follow, and for hands to start to wander. As Hawkeye's hand moved from the small of Trapper's back to cup his ass, he suddenly remembered that while it might have been fine for them to spend most of their three days in bed if was just them, they had other things to take into consideration.
He slipped from Trapper's arms and got out of bed, yawning and stretching and trying to ignore Trapper's look of disappointment.
"We need to fetch Radar," he said, searching around for his underwear. "He'll never find us and the last thing we need is for him to get Radarnapped just after he'd got lucky."
"Good idea," Trapper said.
They strolled through the streets back to Lily's. At the door, they greeted the old lady with a nod and she vanished into the house, behind the curtain, and summarily presenting them with a dishevelled, half-awake Radar. He looked a little surprised.
"Oh, you're early! You didn't need to come so soon..."
"We paid for a night, not bed and breakfast," Hawkeye said. "C'mon, we'll go find something to eat."
"Wait up a minute," Radar said, darting back inside and returning with his hat, setting it firmly on his head. Lily followed after him, wearing a silk dressing gown which didn't look all too different from the one Trapper owned, if somewhat closer cut.
"Thank you so much for everything," Radar said to her.
"No problem, sugar," she replied, and kissed his cheek. "It was my pleasure."
Radar turned to Hawkeye and Trapper, looking extremely proud of himself. "Okay, I'm ready."
"So, then, you sly old dog, tell us all about it," Hawkeye said as they turned and left, nudging Radar's arm.
"Leave in all the juicy details," Trapper added. Radar squirmed.
"Oh, I really oughtn't," he said. He glanced side to side, seeing that the street was deserted. "Thank you, though. I had a really good night, and Lily was awful nice to me. She taught me all kinds of new things, stuff I didn't even know anybody could do."
"I bet you were worn out when she'd finished with you," Trapper said.
"Oh yeah, we stayed up until past dawn," Radar said, nodding enthusiastically. "We must've spent hours talking."
"Attaboy, Rad- hold on a minute. Talking?" Hawkeye said. Radar looked sheepish.
"Well, the thing is, she told me right away that I only ought to do it if I thought I was ready and was absolutely sure I wanted to. And I had a good hard think about it and I didn't feel ready at all. So she just told me a whole lot of things about girls and how to treat 'em and what to do when I do feel ready, but I think I'm gonna save all that up until I meet somebody special." He was still embarrassed, but his nervy smile was tinged with pride.
"Well, we tried," Trapper said, shrugging.
Hawkeye looked down at Radar fondly.
"Radar, I'm proud of you. It takes real maturity to know what you want to do with yourself instead of just going along with whatever people say you ought to want," he said. "I think we can definitely say you're a man now, and what's more, you probably were before. Quite possibly even more of one than I am."
"Aw, sir, I wouldn't go that far..." Radar said, obviously hugely flattered. He allowed himself one moment of satisfaction, and then deflated, struck by a realisation. "Oh, but if we're here to get girls, what are we gonna do with these next two days?"
Hawkeye and Trapper grinned.
"We can think of something," Trapper said.
"We're in the capital city of an ancient and noble civilisation. Thousands of years of culture are only footsteps away. We could visit temples, taste the local cuisine, maybe go to a bathhouse or watch a play," Hawkeye said, sweeping out an arm to take in the houses around them. "Or alternatively, we can go get blind drunk and party until we can't stand any more."
A couple of seconds passed as Trapper and Radar mulled it over.
"The last one," they both said, almost in unison.
"Well then, gentlemen, I have several weeks of back pay burning a hole in my pocket and my liver is in a disgustingly healthy condition. Let's go and do something about that," Hawkeye said. So they went.