For Ice Cream

The wonderful crew of the MASH 4077th gets a little treat.

Hawkeye/BJ; Charles/Klinger, slight

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"BJ, look!" Hawkeye grabbed BJ's arm, pointing to various things in the mess tent, his eyes glowing happily. "Look!"

"I see it, Hawk." BJ smiled at his friends' animation.

"Ice cream! I almost didn't believe the rumors were true but here it is, before my own eyes! Is it strawberry?"

"Sure looks like it." BJ tugged Hawkeye to stand in line with him. Hawkeye was so enthralled it probably hadn't even occurred to him he had to stand in line.

After only a few seconds Hawkeye was dancing on the soles of his feet, desperate to try the ice cream. Ice cream, the true good kind made from real cream and sugar and not just ice and flavoring, was rare enough. Strawberry ice cream? That was in a class all on its own.

The line was blissfully short, however, and they didn't have to wait long. They each grabbed a chilled metal bowl (chilled! This truly was a slice of heaven) and held them out plaintively to the man behind the counter. He deftly deposited a single scoop in each bowl.

BJ could see Hawkeye was about to con his way into a few more scoops, so he pulled him away, twin spoons clutched in his hands. He handed one of the spoons to Hawkeye and took a bite of ice cream, all in one motion.

"You have more than me," he said suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at Hawkeye's bowl.

"Maybe that's because he knew I wouldn't waste it by getting it stuck in my mustache. By the way, you have ice cream in your mustache."

BJ shot out his tounge to catch the offending droplets before they could escape. "Where should we sit?"

That was a good question, seeing as the mess tent was full. Once the all points bulletin on free ice cream had gone out, everyone had scurried to the mess tent for their portion. Everyone not on duty was crowded into the tight space, elbow to elbow trying to protect their ice cream from thievery.

"Let's go outside," Hawkeye suggested. "It's a nice enough day."

They broke through the hordes into the outside air easily enough, but then didn't know what to do with themselves. BJ didn't just want to stand outside the door like an idiot, though he could see Hawkeye was already madly going after his ice cream. He smiled and stuck his spoon in his mouth.

"Come on," he said around the spoon. BJ was going to go back to the swamp, but it really was too nice a day to pass up. He led Hawkeye to the field instead. He held his bowl carefully in two hands, so as not to spill a drop. He could hear Hawkeye eating, making yummy noises the whole time.

They walked the few yards to the edge of camp and BJ sat down, making a little nest in the brown grass. From this vantage point, all he could see was nature and it looked good.

Hawkeye plopped down beside him. "This is the best ice cream in the entire world."

BJ laughed. His own ice cream had only one small indent in it, while Hawkeye had devoured nearly all of his. "Slow down, enjoy it."

"But it's so good!" He inhaled another bite and suddenly all of his ice cream was gone.

He pouted at his empty bowl and BJ had to laugh a little. "You should have listened to me."

"Hmm," Hawkeye hummed. BJ could see that he was scheming. "You know, a true friend would share with me."

"You started out with more than me!"

"Come on, Beej, work with me here!"

Sighing, BJ examined his bowl of ice cream. Because he had been so judicious with his eating, he still had over half of his allotted ice cream left. It was, technically, enough to share with Hawkeye. But it was also, technically, his.

He battled with himself for a moment before dejectedly holding up his spoon, a curve of pink ice cream balanced delicately on the tip. "Here. But only one bite!"

Hawkeye bit the spoon so fast; BJ swore he heard his teeth clicking against the metal. When Hawkeye pulled back, he leaned all the way back on the ground, taking the spoon with him.

"Hey, that's mine."

"Come and get it, then."

BJ was just about to do so when he caught sight of movement on the other side of the compound. He automatically looked up and a laugh forced its way out.

"What?" Hawkeye tipped his head back, looking at the scene upside down.

Klinger and Charles were skirting around the various tents and buildings. Charles was clearly having problems with what ever Klinger was up to, but they seemed to have the same basic idea Hawkeye had earlier; get out of the mess tent with ice cream intact.

Charles was saying something; at this distance all BJ could tell was that he was annoyed. Klinger shook his head and gestured wildly. Charles started to turn back to the mess tent, bowl of ice cream balanced precariously in one hand with the spoon jutting out, when Klinger grabbed his other hand, pulling him away.

This dissolved into a small hand-tugging match that Hawkeye laughed out loud at. Charles went back to complaining loudly. He seemed to be trying to pick an argument with Klinger, who wouldn't have it. Klinger stood on his tip toes.

"Hey, he's going to—"

BJ was interrupted when Klinger did. He stood a little taller, pressing a quick chaste kiss to Charles' lips. Then, his battle won, he led the completely dazed Charles out of the camp.

BJ glanced down, wondering if the blush on his face was as noticeable as it felt. He glanced at Hawkeye, who was still lying on the ground staring at the spot in the distance where Klinger and Charles had been moments before.

"Uh," BJ found himself at a loss for words. At his sound, Hawkeye looked up suddenly, drawing the spoon from his mouth.

"Here's your spoon back."

He accepted the spoon and stared at it. Hawkeye sat up, spreading himself out in a way that seemed awkward and a little forced. He looked like he was about to say something.

But BJ didn't want to say anything. Sure, it wasn't every day you caught Charles and Klinger swapping saliva in the compound, but that didn't mean there was anything wrong with it. Absently, he nibbled on a taste of ice cream.

Hawkeye wasn't looking at him as he geared himself up to talk, so he pulled the spoon away and examined it. This could work.

"You want another bite?"

His head whipped towards him, and BJ deftly popped the ice cream laden spoon into his mouth. Hawkeye's eyes widened in shock and joy as he got another taste of strawberry. As BJ pulled the spoon away, Hawkeye seemed to come to his senses.

"Look, maybe—"

BJ stopped him with another strike of ice cream, turning to face Hawkeye so he could reach him easier.

Eyes gleaming, Charles and Klinger forgotten, Hawkeye grabbed up his own spoon. He managed to snag a scoop of ice cream and jabbed it at BJ. He ended up smearing it all over BJ's mustache, but the intent was obvious.

Each strike of ice cream was countered with another until BJ dipped his spoon into his bowl and found nothing there. He glanced down, nervously, then back up. They'd drawn closer in their struggle, nearly nose to nose, and now he was feeling awkward. Perhaps he should have let Hawkeye just talk earlier.

His eyes fell to the spoon in Hawkeye's hand. On it was the last bite of ice cream. Hawkeye raised his eyebrow and BJ obeyed the unspoken request. His lips parted and Hawkeye slid the last bite between them.

He was shocked, however, when Hawkeye followed the spoon to BJ's lips. He gasped slightly because Hawkeye was good at this, and then he parted his lips for him.

Hawkeye leaned in, a hand going into his hair for better leverage, and the BJ forgot to think. The kiss deepened, tongues dancing, and the taste of strawberries touched lightly on the edge of the taste of Hawkeye.

Hawkeye pulled back. BJ could practically feel him smiling even though his eyes were closed in wonder. He opened his eyes as Hawkeye spoke.

"You had ice cream on your mustache."

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