*insert suspense music here*
Feb. 12th, 2006 04:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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mash_slashTitle: None as of yet *shrugs*
Author: *waves*
Rating: Oh crapola, I suck at ratings >.< Let's say PG.
Summary: Just the basic BJ loses a patient, drinks away his troubles, blah blah blah. Hawkeye sounds like a dictionary for some reason, and comforts his friend. BJ/Hawkeye, of course. Second person, centered on BJ. Which I was surprised about actually. Oh, by the way, I suck at summaries too.
Feedback: Sock it to me!
Disclaimer: I do not, in any shape or form, claim to own the popular television series M*A*S*H.
Notes: This is my very first M*A*S*H fic ever. Be gentle. After many weeks of lurking, I decided to actually write something. It is not beta'd, sadly, so bear with me. Thank you.
----------------
He’s asking you what it means.
Christ, Hawk. How am I supposed to know what it means? What what means? What are you asking me?
And now he’s calling you “evasive,” and you’re snarling like an animal. Since when did Hawkeye use words like “evasive”? Since when did Hawkeye Pierce care about the meaning of anything?
Of all the gin joints in all the world...
“We share a tent, BJ, it’s a little hard to avoid someone who resides in the same tent as you.”
“Shuttup Hawkeye, you’re drunk. And you sound like a...like a...” The air is split by something that sounds like a siren.
His arms around you and you realize it’s you. You’re making these noises how can you make you don’t understand...
“I’m sorry, BJ...don’t cry, I’m sorry...”
“Hawkeye...Hawkeye Pierce doesn’t apologize to anyone...What did you do? You didn’t do anything, stop apologizing.”
“Shh.” He whispers into your hair, and you’re rocking back and forth in his arms. “You can’t avoid it, you know. It happens all the time. Hell, it happens to the best of the best surgeons in the best, cleanest hospitals in the safest parts of the safest towns in America.”
You know, you know you know you know...”Pour me another.”
No. His hands are covering yours and the glass and you’re watching them place it on the table by your bed. The table by your bed with that stupid picture of your wife and you can’t even remember what she sounds like or even--
But Hawkeye. You know what Hawkeye sounds like because he’s whispering in your ear. You know what Hawkeye smells like because he’s all around you and you’re breathing the same air as him. You know what Hawkeye feels like because his arms and legs are wrapped around you tight. But you don’t know what he tastes like.
Now there’s a suggestion. One that makes you pale slightly and almost choke. And Hawkeye’s tightening his grip around you, and you can tell without looking what his eyes look like.
You know because you’ve seen it millions and millions of times before. Whenever you tripped or fell or needed a break and he looked at you with those too-blue eyes filled with compassion, worry, friendship, love.
This makes you take another breath because you had never really thought about it before. And all of a sudden the only things that matter right now are his hands and arms and fingers and lips--
And you really need to know. So you shift slightly to look him in his eyes that seem overly bright yet clouded at the same time and you understand why the nurses gossip about him so much.
The thing that really gets you though, is when he leans forward slightly, to meet you in the middle.
--------------
Oh, shit. Gotta run, already ten minutes into an episode I wanted to see!
Author: *waves*
Rating: Oh crapola, I suck at ratings >.< Let's say PG.
Summary: Just the basic BJ loses a patient, drinks away his troubles, blah blah blah. Hawkeye sounds like a dictionary for some reason, and comforts his friend. BJ/Hawkeye, of course. Second person, centered on BJ. Which I was surprised about actually. Oh, by the way, I suck at summaries too.
Feedback: Sock it to me!
Disclaimer: I do not, in any shape or form, claim to own the popular television series M*A*S*H.
Notes: This is my very first M*A*S*H fic ever. Be gentle. After many weeks of lurking, I decided to actually write something. It is not beta'd, sadly, so bear with me. Thank you.
----------------
He’s asking you what it means.
Christ, Hawk. How am I supposed to know what it means? What what means? What are you asking me?
And now he’s calling you “evasive,” and you’re snarling like an animal. Since when did Hawkeye use words like “evasive”? Since when did Hawkeye Pierce care about the meaning of anything?
Of all the gin joints in all the world...
“We share a tent, BJ, it’s a little hard to avoid someone who resides in the same tent as you.”
“Shuttup Hawkeye, you’re drunk. And you sound like a...like a...” The air is split by something that sounds like a siren.
His arms around you and you realize it’s you. You’re making these noises how can you make you don’t understand...
“I’m sorry, BJ...don’t cry, I’m sorry...”
“Hawkeye...Hawkeye Pierce doesn’t apologize to anyone...What did you do? You didn’t do anything, stop apologizing.”
“Shh.” He whispers into your hair, and you’re rocking back and forth in his arms. “You can’t avoid it, you know. It happens all the time. Hell, it happens to the best of the best surgeons in the best, cleanest hospitals in the safest parts of the safest towns in America.”
You know, you know you know you know...”Pour me another.”
No. His hands are covering yours and the glass and you’re watching them place it on the table by your bed. The table by your bed with that stupid picture of your wife and you can’t even remember what she sounds like or even--
But Hawkeye. You know what Hawkeye sounds like because he’s whispering in your ear. You know what Hawkeye smells like because he’s all around you and you’re breathing the same air as him. You know what Hawkeye feels like because his arms and legs are wrapped around you tight. But you don’t know what he tastes like.
Now there’s a suggestion. One that makes you pale slightly and almost choke. And Hawkeye’s tightening his grip around you, and you can tell without looking what his eyes look like.
You know because you’ve seen it millions and millions of times before. Whenever you tripped or fell or needed a break and he looked at you with those too-blue eyes filled with compassion, worry, friendship, love.
This makes you take another breath because you had never really thought about it before. And all of a sudden the only things that matter right now are his hands and arms and fingers and lips--
And you really need to know. So you shift slightly to look him in his eyes that seem overly bright yet clouded at the same time and you understand why the nurses gossip about him so much.
The thing that really gets you though, is when he leans forward slightly, to meet you in the middle.
--------------
Oh, shit. Gotta run, already ten minutes into an episode I wanted to see!
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-12 10:32 pm (UTC)xx
homg Blackadder love!
Date: 2006-02-25 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-12 11:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-25 11:33 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-13 12:10 am (UTC)just thought id ask because im feeling a bit partial towards Charles right now.
good fic, though :)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-25 11:35 pm (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-13 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-25 11:36 pm (UTC)