Title: Presents
Author: Lisa M
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye
Prompt: #92 Christmas
Rating: 13+
Word Count: 1056
Disclaimer: Last I checked, I didn't own anything.
Summary: An exchanging of gifts …

Note: This little fic is definitely more upbeat than the last few I've written. However, it's also a little silly. I don't know if the boys are ridiculously OOC, per se, but if you're not a fan of fics that lean a little bit left of IC, you might want to think about skipping this one. I was just sick of my angst!muses thinking that they were the bosses of me. This has been halfway done for a few months … but they took over. So finishing this fic is my rebellion over them ;-) Keep that in mind as you read.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Hawkeye grins and rolls over at the sound of BJ's deep baritone voice. His grin grows into a full-fledged smile when he sees his friend standing in the doorway of the Swamp wearing a red suit - complete with a white beard and moustache.

"Well, well, well. What do you know? Santa, you found me all the way over here in Korea."

"Of course I did. I have serious connections, you know. Now," BJ pauses, dropping into the chair beside his bed and kicking off his ridiculously huge costume shoes. "How 'bout bringing Santa a drink? He's had a rough day and is a little bit parched."

Hawkeye slides out of bed and moves over to the still table. After filling two martini glasses to the brim, he saunters over to where BJ is seated and passes him a drink. As he pulls his hand back, BJ reaches out and grabs him by the wrist.

"Sit on Santa's lap, little boy?" He throws back his gin in two long swallows, then sets his empty glass on the floor. "Tell me what you want for Christmas this year." BJ grins suggestively and pats his knee with his free hand.

"Mmmmm, I don't know, Santa," Hawkeye finishes his drink just as quickly and places his glass on the floor next to BJ's. "I didn't think naughty boys were allowed that honor."

"Oh, well I think I can make an exception for you, Benny." BJ smirks at Hawkeye's disgusted expression, and with a low chuckle, he pulls him down onto his lap. He rests one hand on the raven-haired doctor's upper thigh. "So, what do you want, Hawk?" His fingers massage upward until the tips brush across Hawkeye's groin, teasing the rapidly growing erection that is trapped painfully underneath the tight army greens. "A new bike? A water gun. A pony, maybe?"

"No," Hawkeye exhales slowly and swings himself around so he's straddling BJ's midsection. "I don't need a bike. Or a water gun. And I've had a pony before. What I want is you, out of that damn suit. And right now." He grinds against his friend, more than suggestively, until BJ starts to groan in discomfort.

"Where's Charles?" BJ leans in, his lips finding the curve between Hawkeye's neck and shoulder.

"Don't know. Don't really care," he mutters and begins to fumble with the buttons on the front of the Santa suit. "I told him to make himself scarce tonight."

"Risky move," BJ says and shrugs out of the jacket. "You didn't know I'd be back here so early. Santa's a pretty popular guy, you know."

"Ah, but I had a feeling," Hawkeye answers smugly. He pulls his t-shirt up and over his head, then tosses it on his bed. "You know my feelings are usually right."

"Charles is a special case. Just because he's kept his mouth shut so far, doesn't mean he always will. There's a chance he could change his mind and turn us in."

"He won't. He loves the fact that he's walking around with a huge secret." Hawkeye stands, pulling the taller surgeon up with him. He makes quick work of the large black buckle at BJ's waist, and the red pants drop to the ground at their feet. "Besides, his pride won't let him. Not to mention the fact that he wouldn't want to run the risk of us squealing about his involvement in the great mouse doping incident."

Hawkeye collects the pieces of the Santa suit and dumps them, unceremoniously, next to his discarded shirt.

"Your bed looks like a rummage sale, Hawk."

"Yeah, well, I don't have the money to hire a maid." He turns back to BJ and erupts into a fit of hysterical laughter. The look on his friend's face makes him cackle even harder. Tears begin to stream down his cheeks and he throws himself down onto his cot.

"Would you mind telling me what's so funny?" BJ demands, but his tone betrays the fact that he actually knows exactly why he's being laughed at.

"You!" Hawkeye's howls echo within the confines of the Swamp. "Standing there, wearing nothing but your skivvies, socks … and Santa's hat, beard and moustache!"

BJ's lips curl into an extremely large grin. Hawkeye's laughter dies down and BJ chuckles as he watches his friend's face cloud with suspicion.

"Wait a second," Hawkeye stands and approaches BJ. "What happened to 'I don't cover this moustache for anyone, fella'?" He reaches up and pulls the fake beard away from BJ's face. "Wow."

"Merry Christmas, Hawk."

"You shaved off your moustache?"

"Yep."

"For me?"

"Looks that way."

"Why?"

"You've told me a hundred times that you don't like it. So ... I figured I'd shave it, just this once."

"Thanks, Beej. I don't know what to say. I know you loved that thing."

"Don't say anything. It'll grow back in a few weeks."

Hawkeye shoots BJ a sarcastic look, but slides his hands around the back of his head and pulls him in for a kiss. He's never kissed a bare-lipped BJ before and he's amazed at how smooth his friend's skin feels. There's no tickling for a change. Hawkeye almost laughs, but deepens the kiss instead.

They begin to move slowly, slowly, until the backs of Hawkeye's thighs touch the edge of his bunk. Their kiss breaks and both men are left panting. BJ pushes his boxers down his legs and steps out of them as Hawkeye removes the rest of his own clothing. Their lips reconnect and they fall to the cot behind them. The lamp is doused on their way down.

In the darkness, the only sounds are the chirping of crickets and the wet, passionate connecting of mouths.

"And to think," Hawkeye whispers, breathlessly. "All I got for you was a shirt and some peanut butter."

"It's the thought that counts, Hawk, not the gift that's given."

"Ah, if that's the case, I think I might have another present for you."

Hawkeye begins to move slowly down the taller man's body. His lips and tongue tasting every inch of exposed skin. BJ's back arches as Hawkeye's mouth closes, warm and moist, around him. His breath hisses out between his clenched teeth, hands finding their way into his friend's dark hair.

"Well ... Merry Christmas to me."

End