Title: Zero-Sum
Author: Lisa M
Pairing: Hawkeye/BJ
Rating: NC17 - heavy m/m slashy sex
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything. Don't sue ... no money.
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.
Feedback: Would be appreciated - good or bad.
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: Neither of us ever leaves here without some type of wound.

A/N: This fic is a complete work of smut. The boys may be slightly OOC, but I don't think so. But, if you don't like that sort of thing, please don't continue reading. This is dedicated to Lee because she rocks - and because I bribed her with smut to make me a new animated icon ... she's easy that way. I hope you like it sweetie! Oh, and p.s.? I hate the ending. On with the fic.

Zero-Sum
Function: adjective
of, relating to, or being a situation (as a game or relationship) in which a gain for one side entails a corresponding loss for the other side.

The sky above me is the darkest shade of blue I think I've ever witnessed. I can see the sun, peaking on the horizon, patiently waiting for the time to drape the heavens in brilliance. But, now, it's twilight. Dark. The compound is quiet. Everyone still sound asleep. The shadow of a sentry passing amongst the tents catches my eye.

Klinger, I'm sure.

A smile curls the corners of my mouth as I walk determinedly through the camp. With Klinger on duty, I know to slow down as I approach a certain tent.

Strong hands grab me and yank me through the doorway into the murky darkness of the supply tent. I pretend to fight because I know he wants me to. It's all part of the game, you see. The dominance thing. He wants control, I let him have it by giving up some of my own. This thing that's happening between us; there's rarely any tenderness involved. Not when we're alone - in here. It's purely physical. Rough. And I have yet to figure out why.

Could it possibly be guilt?

Or fear?

Maybe he just doesn't want to admit that we have fallen in love. I'm not even positive that I'm ready to admit it myself. Or maybe this thing serves as a reminder of his betrayal against his family - that he wants to be with someone, other than his wife, in such an intimate way. I don't know, and to be honest, I'm not even sure I care. I don't think of the past or the future when we're together. As long as we're here and we're now, that's what matters to me. The only thing I do know is that once this war ends, we will each go our separate ways - so I've chosen to live for today while I still have the opportunity.

BJ's lips crush down onto mine with such force that my teeth cut into the tender flesh within my mouth. He forces me backward until my spine presses into the wall. One of his hands pins my hands behind me, the other is free to roam my body. He pushes one of his legs between mine, trapping me against him. His tongue slides between my lips and I taste minty toothpaste with a hint of gin and olives. There is also something below those familiar tastes - the metallic tinge of copper. My own blood, and possibly some of BJ's. Neither of us ever leaves here without some type of wound.

Mine - mostly physical.

His - always emotional.

We show more genuine affection toward each other in public - when we've got an audience. Sitting closely to each other in the mess tent. Setting a chess board across our legs when a table is readily available. Relaxing on one cot instead of two. Working back to back in the OR. All of these small moments allow us the opportunity to brush against each other - whether it be our legs, knees, hands, fingers or backs. A simple touch shared between us speaks volumes that only we can hear.

But in this dark place where sins are committed and vows are shattered in a single exhale of heated breath, there is no room for affection. When we are here, BJ Hunnicutt and Hawkeye Pierce no longer exist. In these moments, we are two men answering the call of a desire so strong that it couldn't be resisted no matter how hard we tried.

The need to wrap my arms around BJ is so strong that I make an attempt to pull my hands from behind my back, but his grip on them only tightens painfully. His right hand tugs at my clothing and it doesn't take long for him to remove the white doctors coat and scrub shirt. They drop to the ground at my feet. Fingertips travel up and down along my side and my muscles constrict. I have to fight not to laugh or pull away. He knows I'm ridiculously ticklish and this is just one of the many ways in which he chooses to torture me. His touch drops to my crotch and feathers over my growing erection. It jumps in reaction to him.

One quick tug of the drawstring and a pair of olive green scrub pants joins the pile on the floor. My boxers are removed and discarded next. Now that I am completely exposed to the cool, damp air within the tent, my skin prickles with gooseflesh. BJ breaks our kiss and my lungs burn as I gasp breathlessly. My head falls back against the wall with a heavy thud. I barely notice the pain because his lips are caressing my shoulders. They move slowly over my chest. He stops at each nipple and flicks his tongue over the tender buds of flesh. His downward trip continues, lips feathering over my belly, until he reaches the thick patch of hair surrounding my erection. I feel a soft gust of BJ's breath brush over the tip and my back arches in anticipation.

And then, I'm in his mouth. Warm and slick and moist. His rough tongue moves along the underside of my shaft and I shiver. I begin to thrust gently; I don't want this to end too quickly. He releases my hands and I slip them into his hair, braiding my fingers within it tightly. His throat opens for me and I slide deeply into him. I feel the muscles constrict around me as his gag reflex engages, but they relax quickly as he adjusts to the intrusion.

Heat coils tightly in my groin and my rhythm begins to speed up. I feel BJ's teeth lightly scraping the tender skin of my cock as I thrust in and out of his mouth. I glance downward at him. The sight of my best friend on his knees in front of me - taking me fully into his throat, drives me to the edge. He sucks me in while swirling his tongue over my tip. Blood, that feels like streaks of white-hot fire, rushes through my veins. My climax hits me like a tidal wave. I moan his name and plunge into him as deeply as I can. My seed sprays into his throat. I feel the muscles in his throat move around my throbbing member as he swallows every single drop of my essence.

I don't even have time to catch my breath before I'm flipped over and my face is pressed against the rough wall of the tent. One of BJ's hands grips my waist, the other makes quick work of his own clothing. I hear them rustle then fall to the ground. Lips are on my back as I feel his fingers teasing my opening. First one, then two slide into the tight ring of flesh and I gasp. It's always painful at first. BJ works his skillful fingers inside of me, sliding them in and out, convincing my muscles to loosen for him. He pulls them out and I hear him spit into his hand.

A moment later, BJ enters me. My body tenses automatically, but I force myself to relax. He moves slowly, not wanting to hurt me; inch by inch until he's completely inside of me. He thrusts a few times, gently, then both of his hands grip my waist tightly. I place my own hands on the wall in front of me and part my legs a little wider. I want to make sure I'm prepared for him.

Fingers dig into my skin as he pulls me onto his cock as hard as he can. I clench my teeth and throw my head back onto his shoulder. His lips move over my throat, his tongue lapping at the small rivulets of sweat that run down my neck.

"Hawk," he breathes my name in a whispered guttural moan. The sound of his voice stokes the fire in my belly and I become fully erect again. I pull one of my hands from the wall and wrap it around my own shaft. BJ begins to pump harder and faster. I try to match his rhythm. We fall in time with each other, rocking back and forth together. It's as if, through our joining, we have become one person. One entity dancing to a perfect harmony that only we can hear.

BJ begins to pant heavily and I know he's close. His pace increases, as does my own. My hand slides rapidly along my length as BJ plunges and withdraws from me in quick succession. With a final, powerful thrust, BJ pulses warmly inside of me. A moment later, I explode into the palm of my hand. My legs begin to shake and I fear they're about to fail me, but as I feel them collapsing under me, BJ's arms wrap around my torso. He pulls me tightly against him and, in a moment of tenderness, brushes his lips across my ear. I hear him whisper a mumbled "I love you, Hawk." I slide my arms over his, stroking my fingertips over the finely toned muscles of BJ's forearms.

"Me too, Beej." I sigh and turn around in his embrace. "Me, too."

Our lips find each other and we kiss. Slowly. Softly. Mouths moving together until our racing pulses begin to calm. Until stable breathing returns to us both.

The moment passes and we reluctantly part.

BJ bends over and separates our clothing. He hands me mine and proceeds to dress. I begin to pull on my own clothes and watch as BJ runs a hand through his tousled hair. He glances over at me, an uncomfortable smile on his lips, then rushes out of the supply tent.

I finish dressing and slide my gaze over the surroundings. Walls the color of sour green pea soup. Bare light bulbs that color the room a revolting shade of yellow when lit. Shelves stocked full of medical supplies, blankets, toilet paper.

Depressing - that's what this room actually is. Depressing. Why on earth did we choose here? Because we are zero-sum, BJ and I. My gain is his loss. His gain is my loss. No one ever wins in this place.

With a sigh, I push open the door and exit the tent. I step into the brightly sunlit camp, my eyes squeezing into tiny slits. I shade my eyes with my hand and see BJ standing across from me. He has a huge, toothy 'BJ' grin on his face.

"Come on, Hawk," he calls to me cheerfully. "Let's get some breakfast."

I can't help but return his smile. I join my friend and we walk back into the real world together.

The End