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Charles was tired and miserable by the time he was dropped back at camp. A week in Tokyo, blocked out for nothing but heavy drinking and even heavier sleeping, had been cut painfully short by the looming threat of a push from up north. With impending military manoeuvres come impending wounded, and all hands were needed on deck. His phone call arrived, conveniently, just before he was about to leave for a date with an old flame from his station there. Of course the proverbial bungie cord tied around his waist would bring him back here. Charles clambered heavily out of the side of the jeep, raising a weary hand of gratitude in the vague direction of the driver. It would be a miracle, he thought, to fall asleep in his own bed tonight. The seconds of walking between the vehicle and the Swamp seemed like miles to his still-aching feet. Straight to bed, he thought. Straight to bed until I'm forcefully dragged into surgery.
He pushed open the door to the Swamp and stopped sharply at the that greeted him. It was, quite possibly, the last thing that he expected to see. Tangled together on Hawkeye's cot, closest to the door, were the very sweaty, very naked bodies of his two fellow surgeons. Hawkeye was splayed out under BJ, arms wrapped tightly around the taller man's neck. There could be no mistaking the scene, not with the moans and creaks emerging from the cot.
Charles stopped dead for a moment, blinking slowly at the sight. After a moment of processing, he let out a small cough of acknowledgement.
"Gentlemen."
The sight before him was enough entertainment to make Charles' week. BJ scrambled for the sheet, fumbling as he pulled it up messily over their hips. He balanced on one bare arm, protectively placed between Charles and Hawkeye's head. Hawkeye just yelled incoherently, grabbing wildly at BJ's bare back and arms. The Major stood perfectly still, eyebrow raised, until the chaos settled.
"Why Charles, what a pleasant surprise. We were just talking about you." Hawkeye greeted cheerily, face flushed and poking out above BJ's forearm. BJ scowled at him, before turning back to Charles with a pleasant -albeit panicked- smile.
"Back from R&R early, Major? I hope you enjoyed yourself." The man was practically beaming. It was as if he had walked in on the two discussing fine literature over a glass of port. They were frozen in position as Charles stood still in the doorway, eyes half-shut and expression calm.
"It seems," he said, mouth barely moving, "That I am needed around here. I am very, very tired, and I have just been given a taste of sweet, sweet freedom before having it cruelly ripped from my grasp. I plan to go on a short and very impromptu walk around the compound. Should we say twenty minutes? When I come back, I expect to go immediately to sleep, undisturbed, in my cot. I have no wish to ever talk about this incident again."
He walked to his bed and placed his travel bag down beside it, before walking out the door without a backwards glance. The two surgeons in bed continued to smile blankly at the door until it fell firmly shut.
BJ's head fell to Hawkeye's chest immediately, body slumping. He groaned loudly, as Hawkeye moved a hand up to rest in his hair. A moment of still silence passed between them. Very slowly, Hawkeye started to chuckle. It started slow, but built up quickly until he was howling so loud that BJ was sure Charles could hear him. BJ jolted upwards angrily, forcing his hand over the other man's mouth until he had to meet his gaze. Even after the laughter stopped, Hawk's eyes were still crinkled with laughter.
"Hawk. Hawk! You understand how bad that could've been? If it had been anyone else, we could be dishonorably discharged. Hell, we could be attacked. I can't believe how close that was."
"Hey. Hey! Beej, shh. It's ok. Luckily for us, Charles would do anything to pretend he doesn't care about us. His aloof and condescending facade overpowers any other thought or feeling he might have. It's things like that that make me really tolerate the guy."
He shot a grin at BJ and ruffled his hair softly.
BJ lifted his head, at last, to fully meet Hawkeye's gaze. He rested his chin on the other man's chest and breathed deeply.
"Mmm. You're right," he murmured, fingers running gently over Hawk's neck. He shifted his chest to hold himself up, balancing on his arm again over Hawkeye's body. "On the bright side, at least Charles might learn to knock in the future."
Hawkeye made a noise somewhere in between a chuckle and a groan, leaning into his partner's touch.
"We can only dream. Now don't leave me hanging. You've got about-" Hawk held up an arm to scrutinise an invisible watch, "eighteen minutes to get back here and ravish me." He threw his head back to punctuate the statement, leaving his long neck exposed.
"Only if you say please." BJ's mouth lightly moved up and down Hawkeye's throat, peppering it with half-kisses.
"Only if you stop touching me with that personal affront you call a moustache."
BJ drew back, smirking. He raised one eyebrow and cocked his head.
"My cot is just over there, you know. And as you said, time is of the essence." As he spoke, he ran a finger lightly down his partner's stomach, coming to rest just underneath his navel. It was enough to get Hawkeye almost instantly gasping and squirming. BJ was still amazed by how little it took for him to unravel Hawk like this.
"Please, Beej. I want you."
The needy tone in his voice was enough to make BJ pull back for a second, to gaze softly at Hawkeye.
"I love you."
Hawkeye just laughed and returned his arms to their position around the other man's neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
When Charles returned to the Swamp, his tent-mates were settled chastely in their own beds. BJ was already dozing, or at least pretending to be, eyes closed in a perfect picture of innocence. At the sound of the door, Hawkeye looked up from his knitting with a calm smile. Charles didn't return the look.
"Good walk, Charlie? I hear the rats are beautiful this time of year."
"I did this for you, Pierce, and don't you forget it. And if you plan to talk about rodents in the future, do remember not to use the third person."
The was a short pause. Hawkeye spoke, quieter than before.
"Thank you." Charles scoffed in return. With a scowl, Hawk continued. "No, I mean it. You're not half as bad as you want everyone to think you are."
Charles had finished changing and simply gave a languid stretch in response; his neck clicked in several different places. He climbed into bed and turned off the main tent lamp in one fluid motion.
"Goodnight, Pierce. And in the future, if the mood ever takes you or Hunnicutt, do feel free to borrow a coat hanger of mine. They look rather fetching on the supply tent door." He shuffled in his cot, getting as comfortable as possible.
"Hey, good idea. But if you ever have a sudden, desperate need for military-issue socks and you can't get to them, remember whose idea it was."
It might just have been a moment of overactive imagination, fuelled by the semi-darkness, but Hawkeye was sure he heard Charles giggle. He looked over to the cot next to his, peering through the dimness, and caught a glimpse of BJ's twinkling smirk amongst the shadow.
"Goodnight Pierce."
"Goodnight Charles."