Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-02 11:39 pm
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-02 11:39 pm
Entry tags:
M*A*S*H | Why | PG | Hawkeye/Sidney
Title: Why
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Rating: PG
Pairing: Hawkeye/Sidney
Summary: A relationship leads to contemplation.
Word Count: 498
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: Has been edited from its original version.
Hawkeye wonders why, sometimes.
Yes, there was a deep friendship between himself and Trapper, and there is the same deep friendship (if not deeper) between himself and BJ now, so surely if he were to fall in love with another man, it’d have to be one of them, right?
And yet, it’s not. It’s the quiet, unassuming man who exudes intelligence and compassion and calm; it’s the shrink.
Hawkeye supposes that fits, since he’s pretty much crazy most of the time, but it puzzles him just the same. He’s not loud, not obvious, but there’s something there that Hawkeye wants and needs and can’t ever get enough of, no matter how long they spend together. It’s there during their heated therapy sessions and still there during their therapy sessions.
It draws, it lures, it ensnares, and Hawkeye is damned if he can resist it.
Late at night, after particularly fervent activity, Hawkeye wonders: what is it about me that draws him to me? What will happen after the war? What is all of this, really?
These thoughts terrify him, thus the reason he only dares to think them when the moon is high and there’s a steady sound of familiar breathing next to his ear. He’s never felt like this before, ever; even the times he thought he might be serious—those feelings were nothing compared to these.
Hawkeye battles with himself, not sure whether he should mention these sorts of feelings to Sidney or not. He wants to and aches to, at the same time screaming at himself, “No!”
Even during the periods of time that Sidney isn’t at the M*A*S*H unit, he still plagues Hawkeye’s mind. He tries half-heartedly to bed others, mostly just out of habit; it’s what’s expected of him. Even when he succeeds, it’s not really succeeding, because it’s just another person who isn’t Sidney, and it’s never the same. It’s not rough hands with calluses sliding over him, surprisingly gentle, or a warm insistent mouth with an unmistakable mustache above it. It’s not Sidney, not his Sidney, taking over, taking the lead, letting him be the one to relax and just let go and feel.
He likes that feeling, being taken care of, and he never has before. He’s always been No-Strings-Attached Hawkeye Pierce, so why is it the always free, strong-willed, independent little puppet suddenly wants those strings all of a sudden?
Maybe it’s the war, the feeling of hopelessness and being disconnected from anyone and everyone that makes him want stability, to be attached to something, or someone.
Or maybe this has always been a part of him, buried deep inside, waiting for the right person to bring it out of him.
Hawkeye sighs and closes his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep. The slow, steady breathing and the warm body next to him helps with that, he admits, dozing off finally.
Yes, Hawkeye wonders why, sometimes.
He has no idea that Sidney sometimes wonders the exact same thing.
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Rating: PG
Pairing: Hawkeye/Sidney
Summary: A relationship leads to contemplation.
Word Count: 498
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: Has been edited from its original version.
Hawkeye wonders why, sometimes.
Yes, there was a deep friendship between himself and Trapper, and there is the same deep friendship (if not deeper) between himself and BJ now, so surely if he were to fall in love with another man, it’d have to be one of them, right?
And yet, it’s not. It’s the quiet, unassuming man who exudes intelligence and compassion and calm; it’s the shrink.
Hawkeye supposes that fits, since he’s pretty much crazy most of the time, but it puzzles him just the same. He’s not loud, not obvious, but there’s something there that Hawkeye wants and needs and can’t ever get enough of, no matter how long they spend together. It’s there during their heated therapy sessions and still there during their therapy sessions.
It draws, it lures, it ensnares, and Hawkeye is damned if he can resist it.
Late at night, after particularly fervent activity, Hawkeye wonders: what is it about me that draws him to me? What will happen after the war? What is all of this, really?
These thoughts terrify him, thus the reason he only dares to think them when the moon is high and there’s a steady sound of familiar breathing next to his ear. He’s never felt like this before, ever; even the times he thought he might be serious—those feelings were nothing compared to these.
Hawkeye battles with himself, not sure whether he should mention these sorts of feelings to Sidney or not. He wants to and aches to, at the same time screaming at himself, “No!”
Even during the periods of time that Sidney isn’t at the M*A*S*H unit, he still plagues Hawkeye’s mind. He tries half-heartedly to bed others, mostly just out of habit; it’s what’s expected of him. Even when he succeeds, it’s not really succeeding, because it’s just another person who isn’t Sidney, and it’s never the same. It’s not rough hands with calluses sliding over him, surprisingly gentle, or a warm insistent mouth with an unmistakable mustache above it. It’s not Sidney, not his Sidney, taking over, taking the lead, letting him be the one to relax and just let go and feel.
He likes that feeling, being taken care of, and he never has before. He’s always been No-Strings-Attached Hawkeye Pierce, so why is it the always free, strong-willed, independent little puppet suddenly wants those strings all of a sudden?
Maybe it’s the war, the feeling of hopelessness and being disconnected from anyone and everyone that makes him want stability, to be attached to something, or someone.
Or maybe this has always been a part of him, buried deep inside, waiting for the right person to bring it out of him.
Hawkeye sighs and closes his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep. The slow, steady breathing and the warm body next to him helps with that, he admits, dozing off finally.
Yes, Hawkeye wonders why, sometimes.
He has no idea that Sidney sometimes wonders the exact same thing.