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angryhausfrau-writes · 3 years

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You Can’t Cross the Same River Twice - Chapter 18

“Hey Trapper, BJ's going to be on the East Coast for some talk at Johns Hopkins in a couple weeks. He wants to come up for a visit the first weekend in May – that ok with you?”

Trapper shrugs. “Fine by me. I work that Saturday, but he ain't here to see me.”

“Still, I'd like the two of you to meet. And Charles will want to see BJ – even if he won't admit it.”

“Wanna hold a poker game? That's what we usually do for 4077 reunions.” Trapper is pretty sure BJ plays – he could hardly have made it over a year in the Swamp without learning.

Hawkeye's grin turns sharp. “I'll book the back room – you just make sure Charles brings his checkbook.”

“Why? You got another clinic needs funding?”

“A little extra endowment never hurt anybody.” Hawkeye leers at Trapper's crotch.

“God, Hawkeye, you're such a fucking size queen,” Trapper teases.

“And it's all your fault, Big John.” Hawkeye strokes Trapper through his pants and the discussion of BJ's impending visit gets tabled for a while.

One extremely satisfactory sexual encounter later, Trapper returns to the topic at hand.

“You still planning to bunk with me during BJ's visit? Or do you and him wanna have a little slumber party?”

Hawkeye laughs. “As much as I might like to play spin the bottle with BJ, it would be a terrible idea. He's married married. And I won't fuck that up, no matter how I feel about him – or his muscles or his stupid mustache.”

“You still love him, though. And for more than just the mustache.” Hawkeye had been pretty open about carrying a torch for the guy, even if nothing ever came of it.

Hawkeye sighs. “Yeah, I do. But BJ's in relationships for the long haul; he wouldn't be interested in a casual fling. I guess that rubbed off on me, even if – tragically – no other part of him did. And I could never move to California – I don't meet the required levels of tanned jockishness – so it looks like you're stuck with me, Trapper.”

“I've never been so grateful for your pasty unathleticism,” Trapper teases. Then he cups Hawkeye's face. “And I'm glad you and BJ have this chance to meet up.”

Hawkeye smiles. “Me too. I've really missed the guy.”

BJ gets to Hawkeye's house late enough that everything seems molasses stretched and slightly unreal – or that could just be the couple drinks he had at the airport bar between flights, or the couple drinks he had on each flight, or... The point is, when Hawkeye opens the door – before BJ even has a chance to ring the bell, so he must have been waiting up for him – BJ can hardly believe this moment is real. But there Hawkeye is, framed in the glow of the doorway, wearing pajamas and a very familiar robe, looking a little tired but relaxed and happy in a way BJ's never seen before, not even on R&R. Looking so beautifully, perfectly real.

Then Hawkeye smiles at him, soft and warm – and before BJ can even register his own actions, he's hugging Hawkeye right there on the doorstep, clutching at him desperately.

Hawkeye hugs him back, laughs softly in BJ's ear, and says, “It's nice to see you too, Beej.” Then he pulls back a little. “C'mon, let's get inside. We've given the neighbors enough of a show.”

BJ follows Hawkeye into the house, barely registering anything beyond the man in front of him. He's missed Hawkeye so much, jumping at the first chance to see him again, no matter that Boston wasn't really close to Baltimore at all. And now that he's here, BJ just enjoys soaking up the sight of Hawkeye – happy and safe and happy – saving up the image for when he gets back home.

But now Hawkeye's saying something, so BJ struggles back to awareness.

“... sure you're tired after such a long trip and we have plenty of time to catch up tomorrow. I'll show you where you're sleeping.”

BJ is led up the stairs and into a bedroom – Hawkeye's judging by the nick-knacks on the dresser – and that makes BJ wonder where exactly Hawkeye is sleeping since he leaves the room after saying goodnight. But that mystery goes unsolved. BJ is tired enough – and buzzed enough – that he's barely under the covers before he falls asleep.

BJ wakes up late the next morning – nearly noon according to the clock on the side table – and he could kick himself for missing out on so much time with Hawkeye. But he's awake now, and can start to make up for it.

BJ rushes downstairs to find Hawkeye – an apology for sleeping in already halfway out – but Hawkeye just smiles.

“Morning, BJ. I can see that liking to sleep in wasn't just a Korea thing. Want some breakfast?” Hawkeye checks his watch. “Or brunch, I suppose.”

“I could eat. And I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee, either.”

BJ follows Hawkeye into the cheerful, tidy kitchen of his cheerful, tidy house and sits down at the little table while Hawkeye stands at the stove and it's all so weird. Weird seeing Hawkeye in a house that looks like it could have come right from a spread in Better Homes and Gardens. Weird watching as Hawkeye cooks breakfast and sets the table and generally acts like he's some paragon of domesticity.

BJ's attempt to reconcile this strange new version of Hawkeye is interrupted by his sliding a plate and mug BJ's direction before sitting across from him at the table with his own food. Hawkeye's just sitting there, drinking his coffee like all of this is normal. Like he isn't the half-wild prankster of the 4077 who used to leave his dirty socks everywhere.

BJ searches desperately for a topic of conversation that doesn't start with “What the hell happened to you?” but it's Hawkeye who gets the conversation going.

“I see you shaved the mustache,” Hawkeye says, a teasing glint in his eye. “Peg put her foot down about it?”

BJ laughs, relieved they're back on familiar ground. “Pretty much. And there's not much point to sticking it to the army when you're a civilian.”

“Very true.” Hawkeye pauses to eat a bite of eggs - happily without smelling them first. “Although the habit of not saluting has stuck with me.”

“Not much use for it in a medical context – even if some of the doctors I worked for during residency would have probably loved it.” Some of them had been almost as authoritarian as Frank Burns.

Hawkeye smiles. “I don't know, the kids would probably be amused by a salute. I've had at least three come through who want to be pirates when they grow up – though that's a different branch of the service entirely.”

And they spend the next few hours shooting the shit about work and and family. It's nice; familiar. Give BJ a glass of terrible gin and he could be back in the Swamp.

That's another weird thing – the lack of alcohol. If this were Korea, they'd both be three sheets to the wind by now. BJ doesn't even see a liquor cabinet in the house.

But even with all the differences, BJ has a great time catching up with Hawkeye – and catching Hawkeye up on his own life. Not that he hasn't spent every letter telling Hawkeye all about Peg and Erin, but it's different doing it in person. He can see Hawkeye's expressions, hear his laugh, feel him sitting pressed up against his side.

Then Trapper John comes home. And all of Hawkeye's attention is suddenly focused on him.

“You're home late. Tough day at the office, dear?”

“Like you wouldn't believe. Ten minutes before I'm scheduled to leave, a guy comes in with half his guts hanging out. I wasn't gonna leave that to Dobbs – he'd let the guy bleed out while he deliberated over what stitch to use – so I stayed late. And then I went to the gym and Brian wanted to go a few rounds, so I got outta there late too. Sorry for the hold up - I'll get started on dinner in a minute.”

Then Trapper catches sight of BJ. “Hi BJ, nice to finally meet you after all of Hawkeye's stories.”

They shake hands.

“I've heard a lot about you too, Trapper.” Boy has he ever. First from everyone at the 4077 while in Korea and now from Hawkeye, who could hardly go ten minutes without mentioning something Trapper thought or said or did. Not that BJ was counting.

Trapper grins at Hawkeye. “You telling tales out of school, Hawk?”

“I would never!” Hawkeye exclaims. “Now why don't you go make us dinner and we can all tell embarrassing stories about each other and Charles. Mostly Charles.”

So they all troop into the kitchen to chat while Trapper cooks. And BJ is struck again by how weirdly domestic it all is. Trapper John McIntyre – inveterate womanizer and gin guzzler – is putting a roast in the oven while wearing an apron and Hawkeye is treating this like it's a normal occurrence.

BJ feels like he's been transported into some bizarre alternate universe.

But Trapper does offer him a real drink, finally. And they're apparently all going to a poker game with Charles later, so that's familiar ground at least. And dinner is good. The food is great, actually – better than some of the stuff Peg had made when they'd first gotten married.

And BJ's liquored up enough that conversation with Trapper isn't stilted, even though Hawkeye seems to be focusing more on eating than talking – another difference from Korea. It helps that Trapper's asking BJ about his experience building that first ever defibrillator in Korea – the topic of his talk at Johns Hopkins. BJ rehashes his lecture and Trapper asks insightful questions about ways to refine the device – more than some of the doctors at his lecture had been able to manage. It's obvious the man is a skilled surgeon – as much as it burns BJ to admit it.

But Trapper doesn't rub it in BJ's face or anything. Just listens to BJ's answers and then says, “I'm excited to see how it develops from here – anything that keeps us ER docs from having to do open heart massages is worth a whole lotta accolades in my book.”

“And how does Peg feel about your new found notoriety?” Hawkeye finally chimes in. “You told me she liked the quiet life – and now you're published in the AMA and on the lecture circuit. You've really hit the big time.”

BJ laughs. “She's been pretty happy despite all the hoopla. I didn't want to tell you about this until it was settled, Hawk, but I've been asked to take up a research and teaching position at Stanford. I guess all those AMA articles got the dean's attention.” BJ can't help but sound a little proud of that. It's a big accomplishment for a guy just out of residency.

Then BJ breaks out into a wide grin. “It'll mean I'm home nights and weekends. And since Peg's expecting again, she's all for that.”

“BJ! Congratulations! On two counts.” Hawkeye wraps him in a hug.

Trapper offers his own congratulations and then asks after Erin and they spend a while swapping kid pictures, and that's pretty nice. They'll probably never be best friends, but BJ can get along with Trapper if that's what it takes to see Hawkeye. It's pretty obvious they're close friends what with how they're sitting pressed up against one another on the couch as they all have coffee and dessert.

It's not like BJ expected any different – Hawkeye always invaded BJ's personal space. But it's a little strange to look at it from the outside, to see Hawkeye practically sitting in Trapper's lap as he turns to talk to BJ. To see Hawkeye lean back against Trapper's chest and to see Trapper reshape his own body to fit Hawkeye.

Had they – had Hawkeye and BJ looked like that when they sat together? Had BJ smiled at Hawkeye like that – so soft and warm and... BJ doesn't know. He may have had too much to drink.

Fortunately, they head off to the bar soon enough. And Charles joins them for a poker game and it's a good distraction from BJ's thoughts about Hawkeye and Trapper and Hawkeye-and-Trapper.

The game is fun, and it's nice to catch up with his other former Swamp-mate. But Charles is still the same pompous windbag from Korea – even if his infatuation with his new girlfriend seems to have softened him somewhat. So BJ isn't too disgruntled when Hawkeye starts yawning ostentatiously and they head back to the house and bed.

BJ is a lot more disgruntled when they get home and the mystery of where Hawkeye is sleeping gets solved. Because it turns out that he's sleeping in Trapper's room. Trapper's room with one bed. Trapper's room with one bed with Trapper also in it.

And now BJ is back to thinking about how close they were sitting on the couch earlier. How close they probably are now – laying together in bed. BJ can imagine it in excruciating detail – Hawkeye's head resting on Trapper's chest, their legs tangled together, Hawkeye whispering a soft goodnight into Trapper's BJ's Trapper's skin.

“Goddammit,” BJ whispers as he scrubs at his eyes. As if that could make the image go away.

He lays awake for a long time, staring blindly at the ceiling.

BJ wakes up to a door closing somewhere in the house. Hawkeye and Trapper are clearly awake, so BJ stumbles out of Hawkeye's room and down the stairs. He pauses at the entrance to the kitchen – just out of sight of Trapper, who's lounging against the counter, grinning at a laughing Hawkeye.

BJ is still haunted by the image of Hawkeye and Trapper sleeping together and it's maybe bleeding into how he sees their interactions now. Surely Trapper's gaze isn't that heated. Surely Hawkeye doesn't mean to angle his body so invitingly. But BJ doesn't know. And he needs to know, needs to understand what's going on here between Hawkeye and Trapper – between Hawkeye and himself – so he watches.

Watches as Hawkeye and Trapper dance around one another in the kitchen as they get breakfast ready. Watches as Trapper directs Hawkeye out of his way with a hand on his hip or the small of his back. Watches as Hawkeye pops a grape into Trapper's mouth.

And BJ is even more confused. Because they're all things that he and Hawkeye have done – or close to, anyway. But seeing things from the outside, it all just looks so intimate. Like husband and wife. And that makes BJ wonder how he and Hawkeye had looked doing those kinds of things.

There's a sharp twist of anxiety in BJ's guts and he can't think about this anymore. So he makes some noise to announce his presence before joining Hawkeye and Trapper in the kitchen. And Hawkeye and Trapper don't change their behavior any when BJ's walks in, so there must not be any deeper meaning behind it.

It's a relief, really it is.

They eat breakfast – the famous Pierce family French toast, according to Hawkeye – and that's normal enough. BJ no longer feels like he's going to hurl, at any rate. Then they spend more time chatting in the living room, a knitting Hawkeye sandwiched between BJ and Trapper.

BJ is almost glad of Trapper's presence today – he's not feeling all that capable of conversation this morning, too caught up in his own thoughts. Too busy counting up the intimate moments between Trapper and Hawkeye – and comparing them to moments he and Hawkeye have shared. Too busy trying to figure out what it all means.

And then it's time to say goodbye. BJ doesn't let himself feel self conscious when he wraps Hawkeye in a clinging hug. He misses him already.

But that's a little sappy, so all BJ says is, “Goodbye, Hawk. Thanks for letting me come visit – and if you're ever on the West Coast, don't be a stranger.”

“Bye, BJ.” Hawkeye smiles warmly at him and it's like standing in the sun. “Thanks for stopping by; it was good to see you.”

It's an easier goodbye than Korea, but not by much. BJ leaves Boston with an awful lot of questions and no answers.

“That visit everything you hoped for?”

Hawkeye's looking a little wistfully at the door. But he smiles as he looks back at Trapper. “Yeah, it was. Don't get me wrong, I would have liked to know what was eating him at the end there, but he seems happy. Like Korea didn't completely fuck him up. And that's a relief.”

“It's good to know at least one of us could go back home and pick his life back up where he left it.” BJ obviously loved the hell out of both his kid and his wife and Trapper's glad they're making it work. “Not that I don't like how things ended up for me. For us.”

“I like how things ended up for us too.” Then Hawkeye's gaze turns heated. “And as nice as it was to see BJ again, I'm a little glad he's gone.”

Trapper comes up to Hawkeye, cupping his face with a hand. “Yeah? You got something you wanna do just the two of us?”

“Oh, Trapper, I have a list.”

#mash #piercintyre #fanfic archive #you can't cross the same river twice #chapter 18

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