Title: Phone Call - Moving on (6/6)
Author: Lisa M
Pairing: BJ/Hawkeye (implied), BJ/other
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Nope...don't own anything. Don't sue...no money.
Archive: Anywhere...just let me know.
Feedback: Would be, like, totally awesome!
Summary: There comes a point in everyone's life when they realize it's time...
A/N: Thanks to Louise, my beta, from LJ. You are awesome! I don't always catch everything, so any errors are mine. This section is back into the original format.
Two hours into the reception, BJ felt himself becoming increasingly restless. The hand shaking, the well wishing, the catching up with Potter and the others from the 4077th - all of it - was starting to get to him. Everyone was having such a great time dancing and talking. Everyone was happy.
Except for BJ.
Finally, when he couldn't face another second of mingling, BJ dragged himself to the bar and ordered a martini. He took a long sip then turned to watch the wedding guests dance. In the center of the floor, Hawkeye and Christine swayed together.
God, they looked happy. He looked so happy. Tears welled in BJ's eyes, but he stopped them before any trickled out. With a long, slow exhale, he turned back to the bar and finished his drink. He ordered another.
"Martini. Dry. Olive."
BJ heard a male voice next to him, but it barely registered with him.
"BJ Hunnicutt, right?"
The use of his name startled him. He turned to his left and was greeted by the sight of a tall, muscular man. He had shockingly blue eyes. Short, shaggy, honey-colored hair. And a small, but arrogant grin on his lips.
"Yeah?" BJ snapped and finished off his second drink in one gulp. "Who wants to know?"
The man sitting next to him chuckled and reached for his own martini. BJ watched the man as he waited for an answer. None came. Irritated, he glanced away for a moment, but his eyes were drawn back to his new companion. BJ couldn't put his finger on it, but for some reason, this man seemed sort of...
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?"
"Well, no, we've never actually met." The man took a long drink and swallowed. BJ couldn't take his eyes away from the guy's throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as the liquid passed over it and BJ was mesmerized. "But I know you, and you should definitely know who I am."
Something about him was so overwhelmingly familiar... Suddenly, it came to him.
"Trapper John McIntyre."
"In the flesh," Trapper said and licked his lips. "Congratulations, you get the prize."
"How'd you know who I..."
"Well, first, Hawk told me that he asked you to be best man." Trapper looked BJ over for a moment then turned back to his drink. "Second, he told me about you in his letters. And third," he drained the remaining alcohol from his glass and motioned for another. "I'm not blind. I can see the way Hawk looks at you. The way he's been watching you all day...at his own fucking wedding."
BJ said nothing. He glanced over his shoulder looking for Hawkeye. For the first time that evening, he couldn't find him.
"Benjamin Franklin Pierce never looked at me like that. Then again, I guess I never looked at him that way either."
"Are you jealous?" BJ challenged.
"No." Trapper answered bluntly. "Hawkeye and I got what we needed from each other when we needed it. There wasn't love between us. Only friendship. And sex."
BJ felt his own jealousy stirring inside of him, but he ignored it. He refused to give Trapper the reaction he was obviously looking for. He focused all of his attention on Trapper's smug grin and shining eyes.
"It was never love."
"Well, you should probably consider yourself lucky." BJ turned to grab his drink, but it was empty. "Loving Hawkeye was one of the hardest things I've ever done."
"Why?" BJ watched as Trapper ordered him another drink.
"I'm married. I have a kid." BJ felt the tears coming again and he forcibly stopped them by brushing the back of his fist across his eyes. Though no tears actually fell, BJ was sure that Trapper had seen them, nonetheless. He glanced at the other man and saw genuine concern reflected in Trapper's blue eyes. "I wasn't looking to fall in love. With anyone. Especially not him."
Trapper handed BJ a shot to go along with his drink. He downed it quickly. The scotch burned its way down his throat and BJ choked slightly at the fiery sensation.
"But in that place, that hell, things were so crazy. And Hawkeye, he was the one thing that kept me sane. The jokes, the gin, the friendship. Everything."
"Yeah." Trapper placed his hand on BJ's shoulder and squeezed it gently.
"We got so close so fast. And I couldn't stop it. I should have. I didn't."
The tears threatened again. He ground his knuckles into his eyes, but one or two managed to trickle past his relentless rubbing. Trapper said nothing, but set a second shot in front of BJ.
They sat in silence for a long time. BJ was thankful for the quiet, but beneath the surface of it, he felt a current running between himself and Trapper. A sort of invisible electricity flowing from one to the other, then back again. BJ knew that it could be the alcohol causing him to feel this way, but he couldn't deny the heat that was building inside of him.
Or the heat that was rolling off of Trapper in static waves.
BJ was terrified to look to his left, but he turned and met Trapper's gaze. He wasn't sure what he had expected to see reflected there. The concern was still swimming in the blueness, but it was now combined with something more raw.
Almost predatory.
And BJ found himself becoming aroused. He shifted in his seat as Trapper turned back to his drink.
"So, BJ Hunnicutt," Trapper paused and ran his fingertips over his lips. "Did Hawkeye ever tell you about me?"
"He talked about you a lot in the beginning. Before we became..." BJ found that he was unable to say the word 'lovers' to Trapper. He felt almost embarrassed and definitely shy. "Close. Before we became close."
"Yeah, well," Trapper turned and slid his gaze along BJ's entire body. "He told me all about you."
"I'm sure he didn't tell you everything." BJ felt gooseflesh rising on his skin as Trapper's eyes traveled up and down over every inch of him. He picked up his third shot of the night and threw it back quickly.
"He told me enough. Besides," Trapper turned back to the bar and downed his own shot. "There are some things that are better if they are discovered first hand."
BJ was aware that he was able to smell Trapper. The scent reminded him of Korea. Hard and rough. Salt and copper. Sweat and blood. And rather than feeling disgusted by it, BJ felt his arousal deepen. It took him back to the nights he'd spent with Hawkeye, spent and sweating, in that damn tent. Those were the nights he'd been able to forget about the war...about everything else but the feel of the man laying beside him. The sticky sweetness of their joining.
Trapper turned his eyes to BJ's again, and he couldn't help but squirm under the directness of it. When BJ was handed another shot, he accepted it without thought.
"You wanna take a walk." Trapper's voice held confidence. What he said was a statement of fact not a question. As if he knew there was no way that BJ would refuse to go with him.
BJ downed his shot and stood. The alcohol chose that moment to hit him and BJ stumbled, falling back down onto his stool. Trapper grabbed the arm and hauled him back up.
"Come on, Dr. Hunnicutt. Let's go get some air."
Trapper wrapped his arm around BJ's waist. BJ allowed himself to be led out of the building. He had no idea that a set of curious eyes followed him and Trapper as they left.
Hawkeye watched as Trapper and BJ stumbled out of the room together.
He felt sick. And then guilty for feeling sick. Jealousy came next, and that's what drove him to follow them outside.
"Honey," Hawkeye said, grasping Christine's hand. "I'm going to go outside for a minute."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm just feeling a little warm. Claustrophobic." He kissed her on the cheek and released her hand. "I just need some air."
"Okay, but if you need me..."
"I'll be sure to yell," he finished with a wink.
Hawkeye made his way through the room and exited the reception hall. He stepped into the warm Maine evening. The stars twinkled brightly in the inky black sky. He glanced around, seeing nothing but the red brick walls, empty sidewalks and lush green trees that dotted the area around the hall. The familiar sounds of the wind in the trees and the chirping of crickets met his ears. But below those noises he heard something else. A sound he'd grown to associate with Korea.
A sharp intake of breath, followed closely by a low, guttural moan.
Those were the sounds that BJ used to make. With him.
Hawkeye followed the sidewalk to the end of the building. When he reached the alleyway, he peered around the corner. Partially hidden behind the shadows, but still visible under the dim glow of streetlights, were Trapper and BJ.
His heart snapped in two.
Trapper had BJ pressed up against the building. His hands gripped the younger man's shirt tightly. Hawkeye watched as BJ slid his fingers into Trapper's hair and pulled him down roughly to his lips. Trapper, in turn, devoured BJ's mouth with undeniable ferocity.
BJ was answering Trapper's aggressiveness with an equal amount of his own enthusiasm. It seemed as if each was fighting for control of the other. BJ broke away, ending the kiss with an audible 'pop'. He tightened his fist in Trapper's hair and pulled the other man's face to his throat. Trapper eagerly complied. A moment later, Hawkeye heard BJ yelp in pain. He knew all too well what had happened.
Trapper had claimed his prize with a bite.
"Trapper..." The name hissed out from between BJ's clenched teeth and Hawkeye felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. He turned on his heels and left.
Anger attempted to rise within him, but he forced it away. How could he be angry with BJ? Or Trapper for that matter? They were doing what Hawkeye, himself, had done many times both in Korea and once he had come home. During those nights when he'd missed BJ so much that it had almost killed him, he had found what he needed in the arms of others. Hawkeye couldn't blame them for finding comfort with each other. He could handle that.
Hawkeye leaned against the cold brick and let his head fall back. The night air, once warm and enticing, had become hot and stifling. The wind no longer held a peaceful song, but carried the sounds of whispered names and satisfied sighs. The stars and the navy sky held no comfort either. They served only as a reminder of all that had been lost.
And then, Hawkeye heard it again. The one thing he could not handle.
"Trapper..."
He couldn't hear BJ say Trapper's name like that ever again. Not Trapper's. With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the building. He glanced toward the alley once more.
"Goodbye, Trapper. Please take care of him." Hawkeye whispered into the night air.
A single tear crept down his cheek. Hawkeye brushed it away with the back of his hand. He reached up and placed his palm against his chest. Long fingers stroked over the dogtags he'd worn under his suit. They were not the ones he had expected to find when he pulled them out this morning. BJ had taken those back before he left.
Hawkeye brought his fingers to his lips and blew a kiss into the darkness.
"Goodbye, BJ."
The End