A Night at Rosie's
(Author's Notes: Apologies for ripping off an episode title. Also, I don't own the lyrics to the Augie March song "One Crowded Hour," but it was the inspiration for this piece. And finally: B.J. may be a tad out of character at the end here. There, I think that covers all the bases, LOL.)
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And for one crowded hour you were the only one in the room
I sailed around all those bumps in the night to your beacon in the gloom.
—Augie March, "One Crowded Hour"
A party was raging at Rosie's Bar, the kind that would last for days if the war didn't interrupt. Klinger was celebrating his birthday, and he'd invited the whole camp to celebrate with him. Not that the hard-working, hard-playing staff of the 4077th really needed any reason to party; another day of being alive was often a good enough excuse.
So the place was packed and the music was loud and the drinks were flowing. There was the occasional fistfight, but even those faded into the background after a while, just another fleeting distraction in the midst of the much bigger distraction. As long as things stayed relatively sane, Rosie just let the chaos roll merrily on. She made a killing when the camp took up temporary residence at her bar.
Hawkeye was dancing with Nurse Abel, focused more on the music than the woman in his arms, which was a switch, when he glanced over at the bar and saw B.J. sitting there, beer in hand, laughing at something that Father Mulcahy was saying.
At the sight of his best friend, Hawkeye felt his heart do a flip. And that was such a surprise, such a new reaction, that he actually stopped dancing.
"Hey, Hawkeye?" Abel asked, confused. "Why'd you stop?"
He managed to pull his eyes off B.J. and look at her. He was rattled now, thrown off-kilter. "Oh, sorry. I'm a little tired of dancing. Mind if we stop?"
She shrugged and walked away to find a new partner. Hawkeye's gaze shifted right back to B.J., across the room, talking animatedly with Mulcahy.
And he thought: my God, he's beautiful.
His heart practically galloping, he took a seat at a table, wondering where this had come from all of a sudden... and what it was supposed to mean.
He's my best friend.
Yeah, that's right. But aren't you looking at him with something a little closer to lust right now than friendship?
He licked his lips, tried to figure out what was going on in his own head. I need to have a date, that's all. Got some misplaced sexual frustration going on. I'm overdue for some snuggling with the opposite sex. That's all.
It isn't the opposite sex I want right now.
He took a deep breath and tore his eyes away, tried to locate Bigelow in the sea of people. Good ol' Bigelow. They'd dance, she'd agree to go back to the supply room with him, he'd feel a lot more like himself tomorrow.
But when he finally spotted Bigelow, he found he didn't want to go over to her after all. His eyes went right back to B.J.
Or where B.J. had been. Suddenly he wasn't at the bar anymore.
Nearly frantic for no possible reason, Hawkeye scanned the room. Too many people in this place, he thought. Now the juke was playing Tony Bennett's "Because of You," a song he loved, a song he loved to slow-dance to, except for right now, when he was too preoccupied to do anything other than look for B.J.
Ah, there. His eyes picked out Beej in another corner of the room, now talking with Nurse Webster. And apparently asking her to dance, because just then they moved into each other's arms and started to sway to the song.
New emotion number two in the space of just a few minutes: insane jealousy. What the hell is happening to me? I've seen B.J. dance with lots of nurses. It means nothing to him and it means nothing to them, and why am I even thinking these thoughts?
But he sat there and continued to watch them, or more accurately, watch B.J., who was dancing smoothly, looking graceful and sexy. Hawkeye ran his eyes over the body he knew well, the body he'd seen naked dozens of times by now. His pulse raced. He felt heat at the back of his neck, gliding down his spine. He supposed if anyone were paying attention to him, it would be obvious that he was staring at his best friend. He didn't care. He couldn't stop.
The song filled the room and B.J. filled his mind. The dazzling smile, the clear blue eyes, the infectious laugh. He wondered how bizarre it would look if he went over there now and cut in… not to dance with Webster, but with B.J.
Stop. You can't do that. You won't do that.
Mercifully, the song ended and so did their dance. Hawkeye let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. B.J. actually gave a slight bow to Webster as they parted. Incurably gallant, Hawkeye thought, but it was endearing as hell. Now he watched as B.J. struck up a conversation with Klinger—wishing him a happy birthday, no doubt.
Just as Hawkeye was about to stand and head over that way, Margaret sat down at his table.
"Hey you," she said, sounding happy and slightly buzzed. "What are you doing sitting here all by yourself? It's a party!"
"Just got tired of dancing, that's all," he said with a casual wave of his hand.
"Well you should at least be drinking. Let me go get you something. Beer? You want something else?"
"No, Margaret, I'm fine. I may… actually, I think I'm going to step outside for some fresh air, for a few minutes. But thanks."
It'd been a spur-of-the-moment excuse, but it was a damn good thought. He headed outside, drinking in the cool night air, feeling better already. Feeling more normal already. It was quiet out here, and he looked up at the sky, trying to shift his racing mind into a lower gear.
The sky was filled with stars, which made him think of B.J.'s sparkling eyes. Damn, that didn't take long. Can't keep my thoughts off him all of a sudden.
Am I in love?
Seemed like there was no point in answering that.
He paced a little bit and wondered briefly if he should go back to the Swamp. But no, he would just get lonely there. His thoughts weren't likely to be any less B.J.-centric there. Best to stay at the party, and find some new distraction.
He went back inside and considered throwing darts. Nah, the place was too packed; he'd be stabbing people right and left. He purposely didn't look around for B.J., and instead went up to the first nurse, Anderson, he saw. "May I have this dance?"
And so he tried again, dancing with a nurse to kill time and to forget his apparently quenchless desire for his best friend. And again, it didn't work.
Oh, they got through the first song just fine. But Hawkeye was unable to keep his attention on his partner, and as he could have predicted a few minutes ago, his eyes kept scanning, scanning, trying to find the 6-foot-3 figure of B.J. Hunnicutt in the sea of humanity.
In the midst of the second song, he begged off the dancing. "I'm sorry, I'm more tired than I thought."
Anderson said that was fine and moved on to Radar, of all people.
Hawkeye turned around then with no real thought in his head, no idea what he was going to do next, and nearly bumped into B.J., who was suddenly standing right in front of him, smiling and wordlessly offering him a bottle of beer.
Pure instinct took over. There was no thought, there was no time for thought. In one swift movement, Hawkeye took the beer, put it on a table, grabbed B.J.'s hand, and pulled him through the closest doorway into a back room. A fortunately empty back room. A quiet, empty, dimly lit back room.
He shut the door behind them and the party went away. Most of the noise went away. He gently pushed B.J. against the door he'd just closed.
"Hawkeye, what—"
Hawkeye put his mouth on B.J.'s, kissing him with passion and desire and absolutely no restraint. At first his hands pinned B.J.'s arms at his sides, but then he let go, moving his hands gently to B.J.'s waist... holding only lightly now, not wanting to send the wrong signal.
To his surprise, B.J. was kissing back.
Relief and then intense need filled his body. He took a step closer, put his body right up against B.J.'s, and still they kissed.
He moved his hands to B.J.'s back, pulling him just a little tighter into him... knowing his erection was apparent now, and not caring. Still they kissed.
He began to moan as the kiss seemed to go on forever, and it was a good forever, it could go on for several forevers and that would be fine with him.
B.J.'s hand reached down between them and fondled Hawkeye's crotch, eliciting another moan.
Finally Hawkeye broke the kiss and just stood there, breathless, gazing into B.J.'s eyes. He had no idea what to say.
B.J. took care of that. "I think we need to take an inventory in the supply room, don't you, Hawk?"
He flashed his pearly whites and Hawkeye melted right into a puddle. Someday he would have to figure out exactly what had happened here tonight. But now was not the time.
He leaned in for another kiss, a quick one this time, and then followed as B.J. led him out of the room, out of Rosie's, and across the street to the privacy of the supply room.