Birthday Wishes
(Author's Note: Since I'm almost positive we don't find out, in canon, when B.J.'s birthday is, I arbitrarily chose April 19.)
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"Good morning, Beej!" This is how B.J. is awakened on April 19th… his first April 19th in Korea. It's Hawkeye, of course, sounding much too cheery and chipper for 7 o'clock in the morning. "And how would the birthday boy like to spend his day?"
B.J. grumbles and turns over.
"Oh no, no, no. Don't go back to sleep. Rise and shine!"
"Hawk, you're disgustingly cheerful this morning."
"And why not? It's my best friend's birthday. Get up and enjoy your day!" He smacks B.J. on the left foot. "C'mon, let's go get some breakfast. Drag your ass outta bed already!"
B.J. reluctantly begins to drag his ass. He can't help smiling, just a little bit, at Hawkeye's childlike exuberance. "I'm gettin' there, I'm gettin' there."
"So tell me, what do you want for your birthday?"
B.J. looks at the beaming face and thinks: Just you.
But he can't say that—doesn't dare say it—and instead he replies, "Nothing, Hawk. Really. Can we just forget about it?"
Hawkeye's expression softens and calms, the mania retreating a bit as understanding finally sinks in. "No, we're not going to just forget about it. But if you want to be low-key, that's OK. I'll tell you what. War-permitting, we'll go to the O Club tonight and have some laughs and shoot the breeze, and all the drinks will be on me. How's that sound?"
"That sounds nice, Hawk. Thanks."
The war doesn't bring them casualties, so off they go to the O Club that night, where they sit and drink and laugh, and even after they are joined by Potter and Klinger and the conversation gets loud and boisterous, B.J. still can't take his eyes off Hawkeye.
Always, always, he watches Hawkeye. It's hard to admit to himself, and there's no way he's going to admit it to anyone else, but he's falling in love. Or is already in love. Either way, it scares and confuses him, makes him question everything he's ever known about himself. I've got a wife, he thinks, got a daughter; never had any feelings for a man before. Never. Never.
But Hawkeye? Oh, he watches, and he wants. He can't help it. To B.J., the man seems practically perfect. Charismatic. Sexy. Self-confident. Add to that the brilliant mind, the talented hands, the fierce sense of humor, the heart of gold. It's an irresistible combination.
They while away the hours, chatting, laughing, drinking. When B.J. isn't trading barbs with Hawkeye, he's wondering what it would be like to be in bed with him, naked beneath him, licking at his neck, scratching at his back. He does a lot of smiling this night, and it's not always because of the funny stories and the quick-witted puns.
Long after midnight, they call it a night. Hawkeye picks up the tab as promised, and B.J. pretends to be a little more intoxicated than he actually is, so he can lean on Hawkeye as they walk back to the Swamp.
He falls onto his cot and Hawkeye says, very softly, "I hope it was a good birthday."
"One of the best ones ever," he replies sleepily, and he means it.
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April 19, 1955
"Good morning, Beej." This is how B.J. is awakened, the soft voice coming from behind him, and he smiles. Arms curl around him and pull him close, and he feels a light kiss on his shoulder, followed by another on his neck. "So tell me. What do you want for your birthday?"
His grin widens and he closes his eyes as he runs his fingers over Hawkeye's arm. "Just you."