#i should bother the dash with them more methinks

[yeehawkpierce]

WIP

thank you @marley-manson for tagging me to post some of my WIP!

I've seen a lot of people on my dash already post their writing so instead of tagging anyone I'm just gonna invite anyone who wants to post their work to do so :)

This is part of a fic I've been working on about how Hawkeye comes out to everyone at the 4077th. This takes place the night that Tommy dies. Hawkeye wakes up from a nightmare about him, and Trapper comforts him:

Trapper continues to nod as Hawk rambles, but something about his expression makes Hawkeye take pause.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“You look constipated.”

Trapper shrugs. “Wasn’t what I was expecting, is all.”

“Sorry to disappoint. I’ll tell my subconscious to write better material next time.”

“Nah, it’s not that. It’s just…I thought you would’ve told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That you loved him.”

Hawk’s stomach swoops in dread. “Excuse me?” It comes out more defensive than he intended. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

“Don’t bother. You’re not fooling anyone,” Trap says, waving dismissively. “I may be stupid sometimes, but I’m no idiot.”

The amusement spelled across Trapper’s face disarms Hawkeye enough to attempt a witty retort. “Spoken like a true scholar.”

“I try,” Trapper responds, once again flashing his disarming smile. He nudges Hawkeye in the side and encourages, “You can talk about it if you want to. The tattle-tale is spending the night in Post-Op, remember?”

Hawkeye glances at the empty cot and nods in faux solemnity. “Margaret should break him more often.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So how did it happen—you and Tommy?”

Hawkeye raises a brow at the question, but indulges Trapper’s curiosity with a simple, “You know how it is. We were young, drunk...”

“You make the first move?”

Hawkeye shakes his head, smiling softly at the memory. Crabapple Cove, sophomore year of highschool—the two of them sneaking out late to the woods behind Hawkeye’s house, stolen liquor in hand. Snaps of twigs below their feet and hushed giggles. Tommy’s hand catching Hawkeye’s arm as he stumbled over the underbrush. His friend’s voice echoes into the present: Be careful, klutz. You won’t always have me to catch you. 

“You know how I get—I was flirting and–and he was just mad enough to call my bluff.”

Where would I be without my knight in shining armor? Hawkeye had joked once he regained his footing, and Tommy had said, without missing a beat, Yeah, but last time I checked, a knight usually scores a princess, not the ugly step-brother. Hawkeye couldn’t help but snap, For your information, I'd make a fine damsel in–

“He shut you up?” Trapper asks, quieting the memory.

“You could say that,” Hawkeye mutters back, glancing over his shoulder before adding, “He kissed me mid-sentence. We didn’t talk much after that.”

“I bet."