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Infatuation	By : Ridgley-Warfield Category: M through R > MASH > MASH Views: 2024 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own MASH or the characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Infatuation
Characters: Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce/ Father John Patrick "Dago Red" Mulcahy
Rating: M for Sexual Content
Summary: There's a difference between seeing someone and noticing them.
Author's Note: Based on the characters from the movie. This is Mulcahy's POV. Any recognizable dialogue was taken from the movie and/or screenplay. No copyright infringement intended. Please ignore any typos. I don't always catch them all. Thanks for reading.

I stood at my tent door for several minutes following Hawekye's departure, quietly disbelieving what I had done…and had agreed to keep doing. I'd sworn after Danny that I would never do this kind of thing again. Why did I keep letting myself give in to this weakness?
Lying down on my cot, still warm from our embrace, I tried to seriously consider Hawkeye's earlier question: Why Danny and why—now—Hawkeye?
Like I told Hawkeye, priests are supposed to be the antithesis of sexuality, as in we're expected to read Song of Solomon with our eyes closed and our ears shut. We are supposed to represent an ideology that sex is a sacred act between man and women: a husband and a wife. The Bible strictly prohibits sexual acts between men, and even further the Church prohibits priests from engaging in sexual acts with anyone. Even masturbation is considered sinful. Typically, I shy away from any conversation that entails the topic of sex just to be on the safe side. The subject tends to get me flustered altogether, so normally I have no problem in sticking to my vows in this particular area, but twice now—well, more than twice, but we'll just consider partners rather than encounters—I'd given over to my carnal urges with barely a second thought.
Why? Why?
Danny was a little simpler to understand…I was young, inexperienced, and more weak-willed. I've never had the confidence that other men seem to have, so I was always eager to please others in order to make them like and accept me. Danny was no exception. He was a rebel rouser, but he was popular and handsome, charming and funny. It was hard not to like Danny, even despite the fact that his deepest, darkest secrets made me cringe and want to cling to my Bible.
At first I let him take advantage of me, because I didn't want him to dislike me, but I—grudgingly—admit that I also enjoyed being molested by him. Yes, what he did was wrong, but it felt good. Mankind learned long ago that sex isn't just about procreation. It's pleasurable. Very pleasurable. Just because I'm a priest doesn't mean I can't appreciate that fact.
So I let Danny touch me that first time, awakening that dark part of me that would continue to yearn for his touch, ache for release. It wasn't a matter of homosexuality, it was strictly about sex. Whether or not it was Danny with me didn't matter much, it could have been anyone. I wasn't turned on by who I was with; I was turned on by what was happening to me.
Though I knew what we were doing was morally and Biblical wrong, I couldn't stop. I told Danny repeatedly that once we were ordained it would come to an end. We would be official men of God, we would take a vow of chastity, and what we were doing could be no more. Danny always idly agreed, saying something to the effect that he was just 'getting it all out of his system' but I never truly believed him. I'm not even sure I trusted my own vow to end our encounters at that time.
I did manage to stay faithful to my vows for a while after ordination. Danny and I left seminary and had taken different paths for a while, but we wrote to one another. He would tell me how much he missed me and how he wished we could be together again. When I wrote to him and told him I was going into chaplain school, he didn't say much, but when I arrived that first day, his was one of the first faces I saw. That's when it started all over again. It was less frequent, just as I'd told Hawkeye, but whenever an opportunity presented itself, we were together. What I hadn't told Hawkeye was why we had started to grow apart at that time.
The convictions I had over what we were doing were still very strong, but the temptation of the flesh was stronger than my will. Danny always seemed indifferent to our sinning, and just like I'd told Hawkeye, he had changed since seminary. I felt he'd become more reckless, more unstable. When I finally found my resolve to start telling him no, he was like a spoiled child. He'd even gone so far as to try to hurt himself, or me, in order to break my resolve. He was dangerous and he frightened me. I tried to make sure I was never alone with him and when I was, I made any excuse I could to get away from him. Finally, he had no choice but to move on, though he still tried to find ways to exact his revenge.
Even as dangerous as Danny was, I still missed the easy camaraderie he and I had shared for so many years. We'd been friends long before anything sexual began, but by the end, he was almost unrecognizable to me. He seemed like a completely different person. I knew that my Danny no longer existed, and to this day I still pray for him to find peace within himself.
I'd told Hawkeye that Danny and I had never really had sex, and I still consider that to be true. To me, sex is a mutual, consensual act. With Danny, though I desired the pleasure and gratification, the act had never felt either mutual or consensual. Just as Hawkeye had said, it had been more like rape on more than one occassion, even though I had enjoyed it.
Once I came to Korea and found myself in the midst of this civil war, my priorities righted themselves again. I felt I was where I was needed; I was ministering to soldiers, civilians, anyone I could. I was offering confessions, giving last rites, bringing salvation to lost souls. I felt like a true missionary, and my past with Danny quickly faded into the background.
And then came Hawkeye. Cool, confident, handsome…just like Danny. Hawkeye had that same reckless air about him, which both frightened and enthralled me. I was friendly, of course—I couldn't shun someone simply because they reminded me of a past I wanted to forget—but I kept my distance. As chaplain, it was my duty to know the religious preference of everyone in camp and offer my services in whatever capacity they needed, but Hawkeye had been quick to tell me he was a non-believer and found no use for holy men. Though his words hadn't been meant as insult, I admit that it still stung. I still had that overwhelming need to be liked and accepted and needed by everyone.
Hawkeye and I were cordial in passing, but he never sought me out, and I was far too intimidated by his boisterousness to ever say more than hello or goodbye or how are you. A few times I had tried to be 'just one of the guys' and join in on their antics, but I was wholly out of place around Hawkeye, Trapper, Duke and the others. Hawkeye never spared me a second glance most of the time, but he was kind, and I knew that he had a gentle spirit underneath the cocky exterior.
As much as Hawkeye reminded me of Danny, I didn't feel those same urges or sexual desire. I wanted to be his friend, but sex never crossed my mind. All of that changed, however, in the blink of an eye.
Capt. Walter 'Painless Pole' Waldowski, DDS, who we all affectionately called 'Jawbreaker' among his many other notorious nicknames, came to me one afternoon and confessed that he thought he was a homosexual. He was distraught by his discovery, of course, but he felt that the only option—the only cure, if you will—was suicide. He told me he was planning to kill himself, but he hadn't thought of how just yet. Homosexuality was one thing; it could be forgiven if the sinner was truly repentant and never followed such paths again. Suicide on the other hand, was a Hell-worthy trespass. There was no forgiveness for taking your own life. I counseled him for quite some time, telling him that God considered suicide a mortal sin and priests could grant no absolution in such matters. I implored him to talk to a psychiatrist, but he said he'd rather be dead than crazy, and left my tent. I all but panicked.
As a priest who hears confessions, I'm bound by a vow of silence to never repeat what is said in the confessional, but I knew I couldn't sit idly by while Painless planned his suicide. That made me an accessory to his death; the burden of his soul was on me. If he killed himself and went to Hell, I would forever know that I'd done nothing to help him. I couldn't live with that kind of guilt.
I quickly came up with options. I could call a psychiatrist to evaluate Painless, I could talk to Colonel Blake, I could call the Military Vicar's office for advice...but no matter what I did, if I told anyone that I thought Painless was going to kill himself, he would know that I broke my vow and he would never trust me again. I needed to find someone Painless could trust, someone that would care enough not to say that they'd heard it from me…Hawkeye. His name came into my mind like the answer to a prayer and I knew it was the right thing to do.
Hawkeye had been in the Swamp with the rest of his gang and a few nurses. I seriously debated going in, but knew Painless' situation was critical and I needed to overlook my own discomfort to help the damaged soul. Lieutenant 'Dish' was sitting in Hawkeye's lap as I went in and the two were so involved in their own tryst that they didn't even notice me until Duke shouted my name drunkenly. Finally Hawkeye looked up and we made eye contact.
"Hawkeye, I need to speak with you," I told him, my voice barely carrying across the short distance. My hands were shaking. He nodded at me, but didn't move. I cast a glance around the room, everyone else was eagerly looking at me, either waiting to hear what I was going to say or waiting for me to leave so they could return to their debauchery guilt-free. I swallowed my nervousness. "No…outside. Please. I need to talk to you outside."
Whether or not Hawkeye heard my distress, he complied and made Dish get off his lap before he stood and followed me out. His attention, however, was pulled to the stray dog he often took care of and he crouched down to pet him. I crouched as well so that I could keep my voice low, least others be eavesdropping.
"There's a problem with Walt Waldowski."
"Painless?"
"Painless." I nodded.
"You got a toothache? He's a good dentist." He said, not really paying attention.
"No, no it's not my problem, it's his problem."
He looked at me. "What do you mean? What is it?"
"Well…what is it…um…" I really hadn't thought this out before coming over here. I chewed on my thumb nervously as I tried to work out how to tell him without saying the actual words. "It's difficult to talk about, you see, because I learned about his problem in confession."
"Oh, and you can't…"
"I can't divulge what I…"
He was looking at me now with a serious expression as understanding dawned. "Can you give me a hint?"
"A hint?" This was starting to feel like a game and I was starting to feel like an idiot, but then I remembered something I'd overheard the other day from some of the guys Painless played poker with. It had seemed odd at the time, but I hadn't connected the dots until now. I told Hawkeye what I'd overheard, that Painless had been asked to rule on a poker hand and had responded with "What does it matter, it's only a game?"
"Painless said what does it matter, it's only a game? Poker only a game?"
Now he was completely serious, his full attention on me and the matter at hand.
"Yes, I thought it was strange too."
He seemed to understand the unspoken, or at least realized the severity of the problem. "Looks like I'm going to see a man about a tooth."
Even though I hadn't divulged what Painless had confided in me, I still felt like I was breaking my oath. I looked at the ground guiltily. "Thank you, Hawkeye. There are just some things that I can't grant absolution to."
I stayed crouched down, weighed down by my guilt, as he stood up. I expected him to leave, but he stood there for several seconds, and then his fingers were running through my hair gently, comfortingly.
That's when it happened. That's when those dark desires returned, but this time it was different. This time it wasn't just the touch I was enjoying, this time it was also the who. The gesture had been completely platonic, and I knew that, but I wanted it to be more. I wanted him to do more than just pat me on the head. I wanted him to hug me, hold me, tell me I'd done the right thing, but none of those things happened. Hawkeye left me there crouched in my own suffering as he went to offer his comfort to Painless.
I felt completely unsteady by the time I got back to my own feet. The guilt associated with Painless' situation coupled with that insatiable yearning I hadn't felt since Danny was almost more than I could bear. I returned to my tent and prayed. I prayed and prayed and prayed until I was totally prayed out, but it hadn't done any good. There was an awareness there that hadn't been there before. I desired Hawkeye Pierce.
I spent the next two days avoiding Hawkeye, and everyone else for that matter, like the plague. I did my duty in the OR, but I didn't fraternize with anyone like I normally would. No one noticed, as usual, but this time I didn't really care. I didn't trust myself anymore. I felt like if I even said hi to Hawkeye, I would end up confessing all of my transgressions to him in a moment of guilt and panic. I knew if I ever told Hawkeye what was going on, the rest of the world would know shortly thereafter. I was mortified by the sheer thought of it.
As the second day of my self-imposed exile drew to a close and I sat reading my breviary, there was a knock on my door and in walked the very person I had so carefully avoided, followed by Trapper John. Oh, God, help me, I thought swiftly as they seated themselves without invitation.
"How's it going, Red?" Trapper grinned at me, all but lounging in my bunk.
I ignored him and looked to Hawkeye, mentally stamping out the sudden feeling of butterflies in my stomach as his eyes held mine. "Did you talk to Walt?" I somehow managed to ask.
"He's parted his moorings," Hawkeye replied nonchalantly.
I felt my stomach drop at that news but before I could speak, Trapper continued.
"We're throwing him a Last Supper. We came to invite you."
Last Supper? Invite me? Was this a joke? My face must have registered the shock and confusion I was feeling because Hawkeye sobered a little and explained.
"Painless plans to cross the Great Divide tonight and we need your help to straighten him out."
"What do you want me to do?" I thought I'd made it clear there was nothing I could do.
"Put in one of your fixes." Hawkeye told me. "Walt knows he's loused himself with the Church but it's part of our plan to make him think he has the keys to the kingdom, which is where you come in."
This didn't sit right with me. "Hawkeye, I can't give absolution to a man who's about to commit suicide! It's a mortal sin!"
"What is, Dago? The intention or the act?"
He had me there. I thought for a moment before answering. "I believe it takes both…I'd have to look it up to be sure."
Hawkeye actually laughed at that. Not like I'd told a funny joke, but just general amusement that I should be, but wasn't, a complete authority on the matter. I felt somewhat incensed.
"Just use common sense." He told me. "Your job is preventing sin, and the way to do that is give him your best Cross Action."
I opened my mouth to rebuke, but Trapper cut across me.
"Or you can let him knock himself out. You personally'd be sending him to his grave."
The guilt resurfaced.
"An eternal damnation," Hawkeye added, intensifying my sense of responsibility in this matter. They really knew where to hit me. I was outmatched and overwhelmed. My head felt like it was spinning as I tried to assess my options.
"I don't know…" I said, feeling as though they had backed me into a corner. I was laden with the guilt that my inaction would damn Painless' soul, burdened by the sacred rites of my office, and beleaguered by the longing for Hawkeye to like me. "I should call the Military Vicar's office—"
"Call whoever you gotta call," Hawkeye said as he and Trapper stood to leave, "But we're doing this with or without you. Think about it, Dago, you'll be helping us save a life tonight."
I knew I only had a second before they were gone. Neither had any idea what type of internal war they had launched within me, and I wanted to be angry with Hawkeye for putting me in such a fix. "Alright…" I sighed as they reached the door. "I'll do it."
I tried to deny that I had agreed to do it mostly because Hawkeye had asked me to, but it was no use. I did my best to go along with the farce, overlooking the sacrilegious implications of their treating Painless like Jesus Christ in their recreation of the Last Supper. I left as soon as I'd played my part and returned full force to my prayer, trying once again to snuff out my feelings for Hawkeye.
The more I tried not to think about, or acknowledge, Hawkeye, however, the more hyper-aware of him I became. I could practically sense his proximity almost as eerily as Radar could sense choppers approaching. This was definitely different than anything I'd had with Danny. Hawkeye always seemed to be the next thought on my mind and it was taxing not to let myself think of him, or what I'd like to do with him.
I didn't understand my attraction to him. Yes, he was a likeable guy, but when had he ever really shown any interest in me as a person, or as anything? I felt like an outsider looking in around him, like another lost stray hoping to be picked up and cared for. It was pathetic, even in my mind, and I felt greatly disturbed by the fact that despite all of this I still liked him.
A couple of weeks passed with relative normalcy. I kept to myself and no one bothered me except for confessions. I wondered how long it would take for the feelings of desire to subside, so that I could move on like I had with Danny. It was also a very miserable couple of weeks as the weight of it all sat heavily on my chest. I had no one to talk to about my problem, and had no idea what I'd even say given the chance. My hyper-awareness of Hawkeye stayed strong during that time, though I'd finally learned to turn it out…mostly.
One morning—a fairly typical morning—I had finished what I could stomach of breakfast and had taken out my breviary and rosary beads. Fingering beads had always been a very soothing act for me. Running the polished beads between my fingers was calming and distracted me from my thoughts, bringing me to a better place mentally so that I could focus on my prayers and devotionals. I'd found myself using them more and more recently than I had in the past, almost like a security blanket. I spent several moments running the beads between my fingers, bowing my head and closing my eyes to center myself. Korea and its occupants melted away for a few blissful minutes. But it didn't last. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Hawkeye must be nearby.
I felt almost ill. I knew I couldn't keep going on like this. I idly considered requesting a transfer, but I feared there would be another Danny or another Hawkeye out there and I couldn't keep running from this problem. I needed to find a way to meet it head on and overcome it. I wrapped the beads around my hand and picked up the small book on the table, opening it as Hawkeye and his troop sat nearby in their usual spot. I felt like my body completely honed in on him, though I never let my eyes leave the page. I had no idea what I was reading, or even if the book was right-side up.
Hawkeye had been strangely quiet. Usually he would crack jokes or shout across the room at someone or laugh at whatever Duke and Trapper were on about, but this morning he seemed…subdued. He suddenly had my very full attention as my mind raced with possible reasons at his silence. I felt eyes watching me closely and tingled as I sensed it was Hawkeye. I couldn't for the life of me think of why he'd be looking at me, unless my book really was upside down. I focused on the page to make sure it wasn't and felt my heart do an odd little flip in my chest. Was he really looking at me?
I glanced over at him and our eyes met for a fraction of a second. He quickly looked down, feigning interest in the food on his tray, and my extremities suddenly went numb and tingly. He had been looking at me. Now the question was why? I nearly dropped my book in the half-eaten slop on my tray and laid it aside, least it become an unwitting casualty of my clumsiness. I scrubbed my hand over my face, trying to convince myself I wasn't dreaming and I hadn't just imagined that, but moments later that feeling of being watched returned. I had to get out of there.
His quiet observation of me continued for several days and was completely unnerving me. If he wanted my attention, why didn't he just speak to me? Why was he watching me? Did he know how I felt about him? Had I said something? Done something to give myself away? I agonized over it, replaying each minute of my day looking for some kind of clue as to his sudden interest. Moreover I was sick with worry about what he was thinking if he did know. Was he angry? Disgusted? His face never should any emotion, just… contemplation.
The first real time Hawkeye and his group had talked to me after that evening at Painless' staged suicide had been surprising. I don't even remember now what I had been doing when Trapper called out to me as I tried to slink past the Swamp. I'd thought about pretending I hadn't heard, but the sound of my name had frozen me in place, so I knew they knew I'd heard them. Trapper and Duke spoke for Hawkeye, inquiring as to the origin of my nickname, while he sat there looking at me intensely.
I nearly couldn't think for several seconds as I tried to remember how to breathe. This was an easy enough question normally, but now the man who had reawakened my desires was asking about a story that involved another man who had done the very same thing. I gave them all the very briefest, most edited version I could in hopes that I could soon escape from under that gaze, but instead the three of them laughed at me. I could feel my face burning in humiliation. Did they know about Danny? Was this all a cruel joke?
"So why do you go by Dago here?" Hawkeye had asked, amused but no longer laughing.
I gave another brief answer which only resulted in more laughter. I somehow managed to ask if that was all, hoping they'd let me leave so that I could find a rock to crawl under and hide for the rest of the war, and it was Hawkeye who graciously dismissed me. As I left, though, I could hear him rebuking his friends for laughing so thoroughly at me. It made me feel only marginally better as I trekked towards my tent, wishing I could just disappear. My Hawkeye-senses went off as I heard his unique whistle call and felt him running to catch up with me. I was shocked when he apologized about Trapper and Duke, looking up at him to judge whether or not this was all still part of some cruel joke, but his face had that same contemplative look I'd seen a lot of lately. He walked along beside me, and I slowed my pace, curious as to what he wanted.
He continued to apologize about the outburst and finally my curiosity got the better of me. I shouldered my pride. "Is there something you want to talk about?"
"Talk about?" He looked thoroughly confused.
I nearly lost my nerve at that point, but continued on, hopeful that I might get an answer to his odd behavior over the last few days so that my mind could finally rest. I told him I'd noticed him looking at me, leaving out the bit that I'd developed some sort of ESP that alerted me to whenever he was around.
He stuttered, stumbling over his explanation, which was highly unlike the Hawkeye I knew. He was a shadow of the confident, cocky surgeon who strutted around the 4077th like he owned the joint. As he rattled on about wanting to be friends, something slowly began to click into place. Could it be that he was having similar feelings of attraction to me? It would certainly explain his odd behavior and sudden nervousness around me.
Whatever his feelings, I couldn't hide my glee at the fact that he'd just extended a figurative hand of friendship towards me. If he wasn't attracted to me, at least he'd suddenly noticed my existence and cared enough to start seeking me out. I knew I was smiling and babbling about how great that was and how I considered everyone a friend. I felt like I was gushing, but I couldn't stop, and he smiled at me. It was different from his usual smile; it was almost…gooey. Like he was star-struck by me. Me of all people!
I felt that strange flip in my stomach again as his gaze stirred the well of desire inside of me. I wanted to pull him to me and kiss him, and belatedly realized my hand was moving towards him. I quickly redirected it to his shoulder and tried to say something affable, but in my own jitteriness I ended up making a lame joke about not cramming my Bible down his throat.
He laughed softly, though I wondered if he was just trying to be kind, and for a moment we just stood there staring at each other. As the seconds ticked by, awkwardness and doubt began to creep into the edges of my mind. I was suddenly afraid that I was simply being delusional about his attraction to me. Was I seeing what I wanted to see? Was this really just about an innocent friendship? It wasn't like I could just ask him!
He suddenly bade me goodnight and I somehow managed a smile and turned to leave before he called back and asked me what my real name was. My heart was thudding in my chest. I no longer had a clue what to think about this encounter. When he called me John I thought I would faint.
I spent the rest of the night pacing my tent, analyzing every second of the encounter, trying to pick up on anything I might have missed that would confirm or deny my suspicions. I wanted so badly to believe that Hawkeye felt the same way I did, but why on earth would he? He was a married man and I'd never seen him show any interest in other men, only women. How could I think he might possibly feel that way about me? He barely even spoke to me unless the situation necessitated it. I was pretty sure he'd never even notice if I was around or not…or at least I was sure up until his offer of friendship that night.
If his intentions were purely platonic, why would Hawkeye want to be friends with me? I still hadn't ruled out the possibility that this was all still a mean joke, but he'd seemed sincere and I didn't want to believe that he could be that cruel to my face. But if his intentions weren't platonic, then what? The fact remained that he was married. And a man. Both facts were very high on the "Thou Shall Not" list. Not to mention my vow of chastity. I couldn't help but think of Danny, and how easily I had fallen into sin with him. I knew the same would happen with Hawkeye should the moment ever present itself. There was no doubt in my mind I would cave. I simply wasn't strong enough.
I feared what would happen if the moment ever did come when I was sure of Hawkeye's intentions. My relationship with Danny had just been about sex between friends, but what would it be with Hawkeye? I felt positively enamored with him, though I desperately tried not to be. My feelings for him ran deeper than I cared to admit. I couldn't think about the consequences of what was to come; my mind simply couldn't process any more. I wanted to sleep, I felt so tired mentally and physically that I knew I'd have no trouble going to sleep now, but the sun was rising. Day had come.
I dragged myself to breakfast, knowing I needed nourishment but not feeling hungry. I managed to eat only a few bites before I pushed my tray away and pulled out my book of liturgies and my beads. My eyes refused to focus on the page and I gave up, dropping it back in my pocket and simply running my beads through my fingers as I tried to think holy thoughts. That also felt pointless. I set the beads down on the table and dropped my head in my hands, rubbing my tired eyes. I was about to leave and go back to my tent for a few hours of rest when there was movement around me and Hawkeye's voice bade me good morning.
My heart leapt into my throat as I looked at him, Trapper and Duke, wondering if I had fallen asleep at the table and they were now appearing in my dreams. I felt too tired for this to be a dream, and even Hawkeye looked dead on his feet.
Trapper made a comment about how Hawkeye and I looked as thought we'd slept together and I felt my extremities grow numb again in embarrassment, my face growing hot. Hawkeye swung around, demanding to know what Trapper meant by his comment. The tone of his voice spoke of deep resentment and offense, but the blush on his cheeks gave me pause.
When they asked why I looked like I hadn't slept either, I carefully worded my answer so as not to give any innuendo into the true reason. If Hawkeye did have feelings for me, he was obviously feeling very torn by them and had no intention of letting anyone else poke fun at his discomfort. I found myself cruelly thinking that he deserved a little taste of his own medicine, and promptly felt guilty about that thought.
Any ideas I'd had about sleep were shattered when Radar alerted us to the incoming choppers. I was suddenly quite glad I was a priest and not a doctor, as there was no way I'd be able to save a life as tired as I was, but I still had my work cut out for me, praying over each boy as the doctors worked on them and giving my best 'Cross Action' so that God would be on our side. I really wasn't paying attention to which doctor was at what table, but as I leaned in I heard Hawkeye say he needed my help.
I always got exceptionally nervous anytime the doctors asked for my 'help.' Typically when they wanted me to do my thing, they either just sent for me or called for some of my fancy fixes. 'Help' was generally the term they used when I was about to assist them with surgery. Hawkeye asked the nurse to glove me, which I was grateful for, as half the time they simply told me to hold some blood covered instrument or organ with my bare hand. I could handle the sight of blood pretty well, but it's different when you're wrist deep in a guy's guts without a glove on.
When Hawkeye instructed me on what I needed to do, however, I suddenly felt violently ill. He was kidding right? What organ was that exactly? I knew I shouldn't ask. When I hesitated, Hawkeye grabbed my hand and basically told me not to lose it as he plunged my index finger into a hole. He was not kidding. I knew I had to pull myself together, so I took a deep breath and focused. Shrapnel, I needed to find shrapnel. The inside of the organ was smooth and somewhat squishy—I didn't dare think about what was squishing around—but then I brushed across something hard with jagged edges. Carefully, I tried to easy it out without causing more damage to the organ than was already there, and was awed as I looked at the piece of metal sitting on the end of my finger.
I knew I had to go back in to make sure I'd found it all, so I didn't think about it and just did it, but once I'd withdrawn my hand, exhaustion and nausea took hold. Though I managed not to get sick, I felt terrible. My eyes ached, my head hurt, and I felt queasy. If I'd had the energy to walk back to my tent, I would have, but instead I sat on a bench in the scrub room trying to collect some get-up-and-go and wait for the nausea to pass.
When I did finally wordlessly leave, I could feel Hawkeye's eyes on me. His constant gaze was starting to irritate me in my tired state; I had no idea what he really wanted and it was driving me crazy! I counted the seconds, somehow knowing he was going to follow me. I had half a mind to flat out ask him what he wanted at this point, but instead I just told him I didn't feel well and blamed my bad mood on the nausea I felt from OR.
"OH!" His exclamation had startled me, and as I looked over I saw him reaching just under the neck of his shirt to retrieve my rosary beads. Where on earth had he found those? And why had he worn them? How long had he had them? "You left these at breakfast."
Oh...great, I could now add forgetfulness to my list of grievances for the day. He placed them in my palm before holding my hand gently. My heart skipped a beat. His touch was light and gentle, his hand warm over mine. I was stunned into inaction, frozen; what was he doing? What did he want me to do? I was in no state of mind to make any rational judgments about what was going on. I almost sighed out loud when he let go of my hand. I knew he was getting ready to leave and I didn't want him to.
"Hawkeye..." Oh, God...did I just say that out loud? He was looking at me expectantly from the door. I had to say something, but what? I wanted to tell him to stay with me, to lay with me so that we could both get some much needed rest, and maybe waking up together would make everything crystal clear, but what I said instead was, "I hope you're able to get some rest."
"You too, babe." He murmured as he slipped out my door. I fell back on my cot with a heavy sigh, too tired to think anymore about anything and promptly passed out for the remainder of the day.
I woke up feeling disoriented. My tent was dark and I wasn't sure what time it was, or how long I'd been asleep. I debated rolling over and just going back to sleep, but I was still fully dressed and even still had on my combat boots. If I was going to sleep, I needed to change clothes, and if I was going to change clothes, I needed a shower, and if I was going to shower I might as well just get up and stay up.
First thing was first, I needed to figure out what time and day it was. I checked my watch and saw that it was just after eight. Judging by the lack of light, I was willing to bet it was PM rather than AM, which meant that I'd gotten about 5 hours of sleep. Certainly not enough to make up for my sleepless night, but if I moved around a little and properly got ready for bed, I was confident I might be able to get back to sleep at a decent hour to catch up.
I decided to head over to the mess tent to see if there was anything decent to eat and bumped into Radar O'Reilly who was carrying a film tin.
"Evening, Radar," I smiled just as he greeted me back.
"Are you coming to the movie tonight, Father? It's got sound and everything this time." He asked excitedly. Radar was one of the very few people at the 4077th who preferred calling me 'Father' over 'Dago Red.'
"Oh, I'm a bit tired, Radar, but I'll try to make it." I typically enjoyed whenever we had movies, but more often than that they were giant flops as either the sound was somehow messed up, or the film was damaged, or the tins arrived empty. I didn't anticipate that tonight's film would have any greater success than its predecessors and sleep sounded far better.
Dinner was slim pickings, mystery meat and gravy on a shingle. I opted for just the shingles and some coffee. It was hard to give thanks over such a meager meal, but it was still food…in the very vaguest of terms. I sat down and ate, noticing that there were very few people milling around. I wondered where Hawkeye was, but knew if he had been as tired as I was, that he was probably sleeping. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of him passed out from exhaustion. I wondered if he'd fallen asleep in his clothes like I had. I resolved not to think about him just yet, because I knew if I started, I wasn't going to stop. I forced all thoughts to the back of my mind, finished my dinner, then headed back to my tent to collect my shower things.
The only good thing about movie nights was that typically no one ever showered early, so there was guaranteed to be some privacy and warm water. Wearing naught but my robe and boots, I ventured off towards the showers and was nearly steamrolled by Hawkeye, who seemed just as surprised to see me. His hand wrapped around my wrist, giving me that same feeling of butterflies as he told me I was going to miss the movie if showered now.
I gave a nervous laugh but assured him I wouldn't be that long, and to my great surprise Hawkeye asked if he could join me. My mind was filled with unholy thoughts and images at that prospect. I should have said no, but I didn't. I had to remember how to breath as I made my way to the shower, trying desperately not to think of Hawkeye. In the shower. No clothes on. With me. Damn it…I was getting aroused.
There was no one else in the showers when I arrived, so I quickly shed my robe and stepped under one of the shower heads to try and douse the flames of my desire. I had to get myself under control or I'd never be able to be around him. I took a deep breath and reached for my shaving cream, razor and little mirror. Where was my mirror? I heard—and sensed—Hawkeye enter the shower, but didn't turn around to look at him. If I didn't look at him, maybe I could keep myself from becoming obviously aroused.
He took the shower directly next to me, so close that I could reach out and touch him without having to stretch my arm fully out. I busied my hands by lathering my face in order to keep from doing just that. I'd never shaved without looking in a mirror and wasn't sure I'd be able to do it without either missing complete patches of stubble or slicing open the artery in my neck. I really had no ulterior motives when I mentioned this Hawkeye, but I nearly dropped my razor when he offered to do it for me. He took my razor, which I seemed to obligingly let him do, and waited for me to face him. I steeled myself, forcing my eyes to stay level with his, and turned towards him. My heart thudded against my chest as he stepped forward, his fingers gently tipping my chin up.
With both of us flat-footed and unclothed in the shower, I realized that Hawkeye and I were nearly the same height-he was just a few inches taller-and quite close in weight. I'd rarely ever seen Hawkeye without some type of cover on his head, and certainly less times without his glasses, but standing there before him, looking down my nose at him as he ran the razor along my neck, I couldn't believe just how effortlessly good-looking he really was. His hair was dark blonde, almost brown, and his eyes were ice blue. I started to wish he would stop wearing his tinted glasses all the time so his eyes wouldn't always be so obscured. There was always stubble lining his jaw, but on him it looked rugged rather than sloppy.
Danny had been somewhat shorter than me with strikingly blonde hair and hazel eyes, and a strong, lean body. Hitler would have probably used him as a poster boy during his reign. Danny's self-assurance seemed more like arrogance now that I considered Hawkeye's cool confidence. Hawkeye smiled softly as he finished shaving my upper lip. I turned my face under the water, and felt of his work, surprised that he had given me such a close shave without nicking me. If he ever gave up being a doctor, he could try his hand at being a barber.
"Thanks, Hawkeye."
"If you want to repay the favor, you can." He said causally.
I felt like my eyes bugged out of my head. Was he asking me to shave him now? As nervous as I was around him, I knew I'd probably accidentally shave his eyebrow off or something. I had meant to ask if he was sure, but the words that actually escaped my mouth were, "Do you want me to?"
"Yeah, sure. Why not?"
Why not indeed…I could list a thousand reasons why not. I still found myself in doubt about Hawkeye's intentions, even though we were naked together, virtually under the same spigot, taking turns shaving each other. I was pretty sure this fell under the heading of more than just friends; how much more proof did I need?
I picked up my shaving cream and put a fair amount in my palm, rubbing my hands together as I collected my nerves, then reached out and touched his face. His stubble was rough against my fingers, but the scrape of it was oddly comforting—much like working my beads. I made sure to cover every inch that I would be shaving so that I didn't inadvertently give him razor burn. He reached into his own shower kit and found his razor, holding it up in offering to me. I let my fingers brush against his as I took it from him.
I wasn't sure exactly how much pressure I should be applying to the razor, so my efforts were very tentative at first. Hawkeye closed his eyes and I found myself torn between wanting to look at him without his knowing and focusing on my task. I let my eyes drift a little to his chest and the dusting of dark hair.
The razor caught just under his jaw and I winced when I saw the thin trickle of blood. "Sorry…" I knew this was a bad idea. I was a menace with sharp objects. He reassured me that he did it all the time, but I highly doubted that. I stepped in closer so that I could better focus on what I was doing. I could practically feel the heat radiating off his body. It was intoxicating being this close to him, and then I felt his arousal against my thigh. All doubt fled my mind at that point and goosebumps erupted on my arms as my own arousal quickly flared up.
I finished shaving him, rinsed the razor, and looked at him. His eyes were boring into mine and I couldn't hold back any longer. I reached up, cupped his face, and kissed him. I half expected him to throw me off, doubt still nagging me at the back of my mind that I was wrong about his attraction to me, but his hands slipped around my neck, holding me in place.
An explosion of thoughts rocked my mind, making me unable to process what was going on for several seconds until I felt Hawkeye's tongue pressing firmly against my lips. I granted him access eagerly, shivering as he explored my mouth. It felt like it had been forever since I'd been kissed so thoroughly and it made me dizzy as I ached for more. When Hawkeye pushed me against the wall and grabbed for me, though, I felt like I'd been doused with ice-cold water. This was moving too fast, no matter how badly I wanted it. The "Thou Shall Not's!" were going off like warning bells in my head and I had to put an end to this so that I could take a breath. I pushed him back, but suddenly I found myself looking at Danny instead of Hawkeye. A stab of guilt and regret ripped through me and I blinked my eyes until Hawkeye's visage was what it should be. Was this God's way of telling me I better stop this?
I felt my eyes stinging with tears. "I'm sorry, Hawkeye…I can't…" My throat closed up before I could finish my sentence. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to keep going, I wanted to kiss and touch and by touched and kissed by Hawkeye, but my vows…I wanted to hate those vows, but I couldn't. Those vows represented a promise to God, a sacred covenant that I would be forever faithful to him. Oh, how I had failed my savior. The tears splashed down my face. I felt ashamed and guilty, but also afraid. Afraid that Hawkeye wouldn't understand, would walk away, would never speak to me again, would tell the rest of the camp what I'd done… Afraid that I would never touch him or kiss him again…
I realized after a long moment that I was holding his shoulders in a death grip, afraid to let go, although he had not made any attempt to leave and was looking at me with veiled expression. I slowly loosened my grip and was surprised when he took a step towards me. Not so close that my walls went up again, but he wasn't leaving, wasn't giving up on me. I was trembling slightly, wondering what he was thinking in that moment as he stepped forward again. I felt my stomach knot, but I didn't stop him. I swallowed hard as he took one more step, closing the distance until we were back where we started just before I'd kissed him. I eyed his hand as he reached around behind me and snagged my shampoo. When his fingers slipped into my hair and began to gently massage my scalp, I felt all the tension ebb out of me and I slowly began to relax as a sense of calm came over me.
He rinsed my hair and I looked in his eyes. There was nothing demanding or domineering about Hawkeye in this moment. There was simply understanding. The desire was still there, of course, but he wasn't pressuring me or pushing me beyond my limits. He wasn't forcing himself on me, he was simply trying to find a pace we both felt comfortable with. He pressed his lips against my shoulder and then brought my wrist to his mouth. The tenderness and care he exhibited with me was overwhelming and was eroding whatever was left of my resolve.
I gently pulled him to me. "I shouldn't be doing this."
"It's okay, babe."
It wasn't, but I was too far gone to worry about that now. I kissed him slowly, deeply, exploring his mouth. I felt his hands at my waist, and I pulled him against me, wanting to feel the way he felt. When he moaned into my mouth, I nearly lost control of myself, and fear once again resurfaced. This time it was the fear that if we kept going, I wasn't going to stop until we'd both found release and I knew that we could be discovered together at any given moment. With all my will power, I broke away from his lips, but didn't move away.
"We have to stop." I didn't want him to think that I wanted to stop, so I carefully added, "Someone could…"
Hawkeye nodded gently, our foreheads together. "I know."
I leaned in and kissed him one last time before letting him go, turning into the spray of water under my shower head to try and distract myself from my arousal. I wondered what he was thinking and feeling about what had just happened, and I still worried that he might say something to implicate me in this crime to one of his buddies. "Please don't tell anyone about this, Hawkeye."
"Of course not," he answered gently. I chided myself at having even asked such a favor. I didn't really expect he would go bragging to Trapper or Duke that I'd just had my tongue down his throat, but the fear of discovery was tied strongly to the guilt of what I was doing. An uncomfortable silence ensued. My thoughts turned once again to Danny as I evaluated how very different this experience was than my past encounters. I didn't know what would happen between Hawkeye and myself after this, or how far it would progress, but I felt like I should tell him about Danny…or at least that I'd been down this road before. I somehow felt that I owed him that much.
When I spoke, so did he. We stared at each other, disquieted that we'd both been thinking along the same lines and had thought to ask the same question. When he told me this was a first for him, I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride war with a strong sense of responsibility. So I was the experienced one when it came to this area…oh, how ironic.
Then he asked me if I'd done this kind of thing before. I didn't know where to start…
My explanation arched from Painless to my vows to Danny in a confusing storyline. I was surprised he could follow, even I was having trouble keeping up. When it came to explaining everything I'd done, I faltered. Hawkeye pressed for details, using crude slang that made me blush and I admonished him for it. He grinned at me and I lost my nerve and the desire to tell him such intimate details about my past.
"Dago, come on. I'm sorry." He sobered his expression, looking at me with genuine interest. "Please, continue. You and Danny…"
"We—"
The sound of the door opening stopped me dead in my tracks, my heart leaping into my throat as I looked to see who was there, wondering how long they'd been there and what they might have heard. My heart was racing as Spearchucker spoke to Hawkeye, not appearing as though he'd overheard anything. I suddenly felt like I was going to suffocate; that had been close, too close…if he'd come in five minutes ago… I couldn't entertain that thought. I grabbed my stuff and hurried to get out of there, but Hawkeye grabbed my arm, pulling me back to him and into another kiss.
"We're not done with this," he said softly as he brushed my hair from my face. I looked at him weakly. "I want to hear about you and Danny. Can I come to your tent later tonight?"
I could hear my own heart pounding in my head as he searched my eyes for an answer. His sincerity struck me and I felt my throat close with emotion. I knew I couldn't speak, so I simply nodded, and he kissed me again. I felt like I was going to break down and start sobbing uncontrollably right there, so I hurried out of the showers and avoided making eye contact with anyone I passed. I made it to my tent just second before tear drops started to fall.
I wasn't even really sure why I was crying, but it had been a very strange evening that still mostly felt like a dream. I still had trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that Hawkeye seemed to want me as much as I wanted him. My comparison between Hawkeye and Danny continued as I wiped my eyes with my towel and decided to change back into my uniform just in case someone other than Hawkeye dropped by.
Danny had been an aggressive kisser—much like he seemed to be with everything. His kisses were always hard and somewhat unpleasant. Hawkeye, on the other hand, was not aggressive—other than when he had pressed me up against the wall. Our first, initial kiss could only be described as passionate, but I blamed my eagerness for that. As the kiss progressed, however, it had softened and slowed and been thoroughly enjoyable. He didn't jam his tongue down my throat , or bump his teeth against mine, and it never felt like he was eating my face off. We seemed to have a rhythm, and a sort of give and take right from the start. Maybe Hawkeye was more experienced than Danny had been—well, I knew he was, but it seemed more than just mere experience. Hawkeye seemed more about mutual gratification whereas when Danny gave, he often expected more in return. It never felt truly equal.
Fully dressed, I sat at my desk and dropped my head in my hands with a heavy sigh. If Hawkeye stayed true to his word, he would be stopping by my tent at some point, which meant that it was going to be up to me to set the standard. We would be in my space, on my ground. I considered this very carefully. On the one hand, I knew what I wanted and how far I was willing to go…but on the other hand, did I dare do this?
The "Thou Shall Not's" were knocking at the proverbial door again. I didn't want to think about the fact that Hawkeye was married and that this was adultery. I couldn't justify that away, no matter how I tried. What I wanted with Hawkeye was sinful on every level. I knew that, but the problem was I still couldn't stop myself from wanting it. I reached for my Bible instead of my breviary and looked at the index for every reference to the word sin and sinner. Intentional sin was one of the most severe trespasses, but I had to know if I would be forgiven. The 10 Commandments spelled out very plainly that I should not covet him nor should I commit adulterous acts with him, and as a Catholic I still felt that those were the convents that God judged us by. I was already in deep enough for breaking my sacred vows, what would He do if I broke his Commandments too?
The knock on my door was all it took to convince me that I was already damned. As I got up and turned off the light, I had to wonder if I still had the fear of God in me.
I pushed the door open enough so that Hawkeye could slip inside. I felt his hand on my waist before it glided across my stomach as he slipped past me. I latched the door, then pulled him to me, kissing him hungrily. He responded eagerly, his hands pushing my jacket off my shoulders and down my arms until it pooled behind me. I reciprocated just as readily, letting my hands slide along his lean body as I helped him out of his jacket. His hands went to my belt and I didn't stop him. I was hard and I wanted him to touch me and feel my arousal. His hand was warm as it slid down my abdomen and my breath caught in my throat as he touched me. I broke the kiss, trying to remember how to breathe and his hand tightened on me, moving up and down. It felt incredible, better than I could have ever dreamed. His lips found my neck, but my shirt prevented him from kissing any lower. Without a second thought, I tugged my shirt off, eager to feel his lips and hands all over my bare skin.
It had been so long, and what he was doing felt so good that I was already close to my release. He seemed to sense as much and slowed down. When his hands started to push my pants down, I didn't hesitate and we quickly started to undress. I helped him out of his trousers before we fell onto my cot with him on top of me. I kissed him, my tongue seeking out the inside of his mouth as I ran my hands along his back and shoulders, feeling the sharpness of his shoulder blades, the line of his spine, and the firmness of his body.
He took hold of me again, pressing our genitals together. Then he was asking to taste me. I knew exactly what he meant and I wanted that more than I wanted to breathe. His mouth on me was wondrous, and the pleasure he was giving me was far greater than anything I felt from Danny. This might have been Hawkeye's first time doing this to another man, but he could have fooled me. I knew from experience that I was unable to keep quiet and held my pillow over my mouth to muffle my sounds as he explored me very thoroughly.
I was getting closer and closer to my release and tried to warn Hawkeye that I was nearing my end, but he seemed eager to finish me inside his mouth and he made a noise in his throat that practically sent me over the edge. My head was spinning and I knew I was done. I pushed the pillow back over my mouth. He grabbed at my testicles, squeezing them, and I saw stars. I almost couldn't move from how good I felt, but then I felt him biting my hip and I came back down to earth, eager to do unto him…
I sat up, peering at him in the darkness, trying to convey what I wanted to do without words. I moved over him as he lay on his back, sitting astride him. I could feel his erection pressing up between my legs and I leaned down, to kiss him. I could taste myself on his tongue and felt a surge of something purely primal course through me. It was something I'd never felt before and I idly wondered if this is what had made Danny so aggressive during our encounters.
Hawkeye's eyes were closed as I kissed him and I maneuvered my legs so that they were now between his, making it easier for me to move down his body. I kissed along his jaw, enjoying the freshly shaven smoothness of his skin, and when I reached his neck I was overcome with the urge to bite him. He hissed, and his hand came up around my neck, holding me there. It excited me that he enjoyed that and emboldened me to do it again.
He yelped and I worried that I'd bitten too hard, but I was still energized by whatever energy had invaded me, and he swore it felt good. By the time I'd worked my way down the length of his body, I was eager to pleasure him. I took him into my hand, making yet another comparison of him and Danny—Hawkeye was bigger and had more girth to him—then took him into my mouth.
"Fuck, Dago…" He swore above me, making me blush. I wasn't exactly an expert at this, but I was experienced, and even though it had been some time since I'd last done this, it wasn't something that you tended to forget how to do. Hawkeye was moaning quite loudly and I feared that the nurses in the next tent, or anyone walking by outside, might overhear him. I looked up at him and saw my pillow was under his head, so I reached up and put my hand over his mouth to quiet him as I continued. He continued moaning against my hand and also bit into my palm.
With my other hand, I touched his testicles. Danny had had a habit of thrusting himself as far into my mouth as he possibly could, which ultimately resulted in me learning to control my gag reflex quite well. When I took Hawkeye in as deep as I could, and added in the bit he'd taught me tonight about vibrating vocal chords, I knew I'd done him in. His fingers twisted in my hair, pulling it somewhat painfully as he thrust roughly into my mouth. I did my best not to scrape his shaft with my teeth in the process, and his body went rigid beneath me, fluid leaking out of him and down the back of my throat. I swallowed reflexively, and waited until his grip on my hair loosened before I took my hand away from his mouth and moved up next to him.
He looked completely sated as he smiled up at me, and then he asked me to tell him about Danny. It was an unsung story for me, one that I'd lived but never spoken of before. Telling it to Hawkeye was bittersweet. But then he asked that question that had started this whole reverie… Why him? Why Danny?
I hadn't been able to answer him then because I didn't have an answer. I had avoided trying to understand my attraction on the chance I could ignore it and make it go away, but now I had to face it…I had to understand…
Hawkeye, Trapper, Duke and Spearchucker were already at breakfast the next morning when I arrived and got a tray and some coffee. I glanced in their direction, trying to gauge Hawkeye's reaction to me in the cold light of day and could see him smirking into his coffee cup. He gave me a wink that none of the others noticed then nodded to the empty space to his left.
" Dago, come join us."
The others looked up and mumbled a greeting as I sat next to Hawkeye. I bowed my head, saying grace, and felt Hawkeye press his leg against mine very discreetly under the table.
"You look at a little more rested today," Hawkeye noted with a knowing smirk.
I tried not to blush. "I was able to sleep better last night."
Trapper snorted. "You and Hawkeye both."
"Yeah," Duke piped up in agreement. "Hawkeye came in last night and wouldn't even tell us about the nurse he'd been with."
I glanced over at Hawkeye, who was still smirking into his coffee mug. I could feel my cheeks burning red hot. "Yes, well…I'm sure whoever it was would appreciate his nondisclosure in the matter."
"Yeah, but how are we going to know who to get with next time?" Trapper asked.
I choked on my coffee. Hawkeye threw his head back and laughed loudly, finding obvious enjoyment in this whole exchange. He clapped me hard on the back as I coughed, helping to dislodge the hot liquid from my windpipe. I cast him a meaningful glare as soon as I was able to take a breath but he just grinned widely at me.
The topic of conversation—mercifully—shifted, but Hawkeye's leg stayed pressed against mine throughout the duration of the meal. Finally, with my food gone and coffee finished, I had no real reason to stay other than being near Hawkeye, and I had duties I had to attend to. He was listening to Duke and Trapper arguing about something and I nudged him gently to get his attention.
"I've got to go," I told him softly, trying not to gain the attention of the others. "Come see me later when you've got a minute."
He nodded gently and I gathered my things. "See ya, fellas."
"Bye, Dago." The gang all said in unison.
I went to post-op from there to visit the patients, offer confessions, and generally lend a helping hand. After that I returned to my tent for camp confessions. A few people stopped by, but it was early afternoon before my Hawkeye-sense alerting me to his presence shortly before he knocked.
"Come in," I called, standing up.
He grinned at me as he pulled the door closed behind him and latched it. "Forgive me, Father," he said somewhat mockingly. "For I have sinned, and I'm about to do it again."
He reached out and hooked his finger into my belt loop, tugging me into a warm kiss. Our mouths opened simultaneously, tongues meeting. I sighed contentedly and slipped my arms around his waist and he moaned softly before he reluctantly pulled back.
"I've wanted to do that all day," he confessed.
"You have?" I still could hardly believe that Hawkeye was attracted to me.
"It's damn near all I've been able to think about." His hands slid around my own waist and we stood in each other's arms as he looked at me curiously. "Now, you wanted to see me?"
I nodded. "After you left last night, I started really thinking about what you asked me."
"What did I ask you?" He said, screwing up his face as he tried to remember.
"About why—"
"Oh, right! Why me, right?"
"Yes, and why Danny."
"Right, right." He nodded. "What'd you come up with?"
"Well," I pulled back out of his arms so that I could think clearly and he sat in the chair at my desk as he listened. "There's not a lot that you and Danny have in common, except that you're both very likeable and very confident individuals. You're the kind of person I wish I could be."
"You're a likable guy, Dago," Hawkeye said. "You're just quiet is all."
"Well, thank you, but I wouldn't really agree with you there. Hardly anyone remembers to even speak to me half the time."
"That's not because you're unlikeable, baby, that's just because no one knows what to say, you know? I think people are afraid they might offend you."
"Yes, I've thought that, too…but anyways, the point is that I find those qualities attractive in a person—I feel drawn to people like you and Danny. With Danny, he and I were friends for a long while before anything ever happened, but once it did, it became the primary part of our friendship. I think…well, I think he might have been in love with me in some way. After seminary he would write and talk about wanting to be together, and I got that sense that he was referencing a more…permanent relationship. Danny was a friend, probably one of my best friends, but I wasn't in love with him in that sense."
"Is that why things went south between you two?"
I sat on my cot with a sigh. "No. Like I told you, he followed me to chaplain school and we started to…you know…"
"Fool around."
I nodded. "But he was different. He had changed a lot since seminary, and so I had, but he seemed…dangerous to me. If I told him 'no' he would get violent or threaten me. He'd never been like that before."
"Did he ever hurt you?" Hawkeye asked sincerely.
"He tried," I admitted. "He was stronger than me, so I'm fairly certain if he really wanted to hurt me, he could have very easily. Most of what he did was just verbal taunts, which to me cut worse than anything physical he might have done."
"Gee, Dago…"
"Like I said, by that time it got easier for me to back off from him and once I was away from him I didn't have those feelings or urges anymore. Or at least I was able to ignore them until they faded into the background. When you came to camp, I liked you immediately, but not in a sexual sense. I would have liked to have been your friend from that first time we spoke, but you made it pretty clear that you wanted nothing to do with me."
"What? When was this? What did I say?" He looked genuinely confused and upset that I had gotten that impression from him.
"When I asked what your religious preference was. You told me you had no use for holy men." I said somewhat shakily.
"Oh, babe…I didn't mean it like that. I'm really sorry if you thought… I only meant that praying for me or talking to me about God would be pointless and a waste of your time because I don't believe in God." He laughed softly before adding, "I always thought you looked down on us Swamp rats."
"Oh no!" I was shaking my head vigorously. "No, not at all. I admired you all and wanted to be a part of your gang, but I don't fit in with you guys."
"I think you fit in just fine. Duke and Trap might not warm up to the idea for a while because Duke has a thing against Catholics in general and he said you make him feel like he's always got to be on his best behavior, but I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing."
I smiled softly at that, glad that Hawkeye had never intended to shun me or hurt my feelings.
"So, if you didn't like me in that way when we first met…when did you first start to?"
"Well…it happened very suddenly, you see. It was the way you touched me. I just felt those feelings of desire."
"When?" He pressed curiously.
"When I came to you about Walt Waldowski a few weeks ago."
Hawkeye was obviously trying to remember the encounter. "How did I touch you in a way that made you want me?"
I was blushing furiously. "You…um…ran your fingers through my hair. I know at the time you were just trying to make me feel better and that there wasn't anything sexual about it, but…"
"You like that, do you?" He was smirking at me.
"Well…yes….it feels nice." I swallowed as I continued. "The only problem is that, before when this had happened with Danny, I didn't really care who I was doing these things with, but what I felt for you was more because it was you. Does that make sense?"
"So if it had been Trapper or someone else, you might not have…"
"No, I don't think I would have."
"What made me so special?"
"I haven't figured that out just yet," I said with a nervous laugh. "I mean, I know I liked you as a person and wanted to be your friend, but…well, I just really don't know."
"I guess that's me as well," Hawkeye said, getting up from my chair and coming to sit next to me on the cot. "I don't know why, or when really, but I just started to notice things about you and I was thinking about you all the time. I think…yeah, I think it started after you came to me about Painless."
He looked at me curiously.
"Why did you come to me about Painless?"
"I had to do something to help him. I couldn't let him kill himself without someone else knowing what was going on, but being that he told me everything in confession, I didn't know who to tell, or how, and I didn't want him hating me and killing himself, you know?"
"But why me out of everyone here? You could have gone to Henry."
"I thought about it, but it didn't feel right. I knew he needed someone to trust, a friend, and the only person who came to mind was you. It felt like the right thing to do."
Hawkeye wrapped his arms around me and laid back on my cot, pulling me along with him so that I was laying next to him on my side, with my head on his shoulder. "I don't envy you your job, Dago. I can't believe after all you've seen here in Korea you still believe in God…"
I looked up at him, "God isn't responsible for the wars of man, Hawkeye. We live in an imperfect world where people resort to violence over their beliefs. God hates this war as much as the rest of us, but he has to allow it to happen. If there is no evil in this world, no war or famine, how are any of us supposed to know what is good? You have to have darkness in order to see the light."
Hawkeye bent his head and kissed me. "I think you're my light in all of this darkness."
I didn't know what to say to that so I simply kissed him.
"Attention: All personnel," the loudspeaker sounded outside in the compound and both Hawkeye and I groaned, knowing what was coming next. We were both already half out of the cot before the voice continued, "Incoming wounded. Choppers and ambulances."
I was reaching for the tools of my trade when Hawkeye spun on his heel, his hands reaching up to hold my face as he brought his lips in for a quick, but passionate kiss. There were no promises of when we'd next see each other, because neither of us knew when that would be, but it was certainly nice to share in that final kiss before we went to our do our duties.

TBC
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Infatuation