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“Well Beej, that was nice while it lasted.”, Hawkeye said as they cautiously stood from their crouched positions behind the bar.
“Yeah it’s too bad. There goes the kingdom.” BJ gestured broadly to the ruins of Rosieland around them. It was quiet now and the dust began to settle in the aftermath of the brawl as the last few stragglers stumbled out into the night. Indeed it was nice while it lasted. It was their own little oasis where they could pretend to be anywhere else but the war. Just then, Rosie poked her head through the doorway, looking exasperated.
“That’s it. I’m going to bed! We’ll deal with this in the morning. Lock up, won't ya?” she called out, shaking her head and mumbling to herself as she closed the door behind her.
Yeah, they’d probably be in huge trouble tomorrow, not even counting the inevitable hangover. They’ll have to find a way to make it up to Rosie – and Potter. Probably Charles too.
In the meantime, however, BJ became suddenly aware of how close they were standing. Their shoulders were pressed together like usual, but the contact was searing nonetheless. The hours of alcohol consumption coursing through his veins made him feel pleasantly fuzzy and blurred around the edges. Hawkeye smiled up at him, swaying slightly and brushing their fingers together. BJ melted into the touch, grinning right back and wishing they could start the night over again.
Hawkeye stared at him for a moment, mouth open slightly. “You know… The night’s not over yet…” he finally said quietly, not meeting his eyes.
I must’ve said that out loud, BJ thought to himself, eyes going wide.
Hawkeye scanned their surroundings, something catching his eye. He turned to BJ again, this time with more confidence in his voice.
“Has anybody explained to you the philosophy of Rosieland?” he asked. BJ tilted his head questioningly, vaguely recalling that he overheard Hawk ask a nurse the same question hours prior. He shook his head, curious.
Hawkeye reached his hand around them. Behind them on the bar, a small bundle of daisies sat atop a shattered vase, nearly destroyed in the bar fight. He carefully picked up the bunch, clearing it of debris. Hawkeye returned his gaze to BJ’s before he spoke again.
“It’s an intimate little country we have here, where man’s only obligation is to love his fellow man.”
Hawkeye raised the bundle of flowers closer to BJ’s face. They inhaled its pleasant fragrance, breathing together as Hawkeye moved to arrange it behind BJ’s ear. Hawkeye smiled, satisfied with himself, and caressed BJ’s cheek, stroking the greying hair at his temple with his thumb.
“So how ‘bout it, Beej? You wanna be a patriot and love me back?” he asked. BJ stood there, dumbfounded. Finally, when his body caught up to his brain, he closed in on Hawkeye, pressing their lips together gently. Hawkeye’s lips were warm and inviting – though he tasted like pretzels and beer.
“Yeah, Hawk. I think I’d like that very much.” he said once they broke the kiss. “Whaddya say? Can I buy you a drink?” he asked Hawkeye, who nodded enthusiastically. BJ turned around to scan the shelves and found at the bottom a couple of glasses and an untouched bottle of liquor, somehow spared after the night’s events. Excitedly, BJ sat the two glasses on the bar and filled them. He grabbed Hawkeye by the hand and ignored the spark of warmth he felt shoot from his fingers to his toes. He pulled him around to the other side of the bar so they could sit on the stools, facing each other with their knees touching. They toasted their glasses and leaned in close, breathy giggling erupting between them.
After a handful of drinks, Hawkeye stood up and made his way over to the jukebox. He cleared a path through the debris with his shoes along the way, and fumbled with the machine awhile before it began to fill the quiet room with swelling music. Hawkeye crossed back over to BJ, who was watching him from his place at the bar. Playful and exaggerated, Hawkeye curtsied to BJ, extending his hand out.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, eyes sparkling up at the other man.
A blush crept onto BJ’s face, rosy like his shirt. Fitting for Rosieland, he supposed. He accepted Hawkeye’s hand and graciously let the other man pull him in close as they began to move together around the empty room. BJ’s hand tightened around Hawk’s waist, holding their bodies close as they swayed to the music.
You and I are just like a couple of tots
Running across the meadow
Picking up lots of forget-me-nots
You make me feel so young
You make me feel there are songs to be sung
Bells to be rung and a wonderful fling to be flung
And even when I’m old and gray
I’m gonna feel the way I do today
“Cause you make me feel so young
Nothing could drag them apart tonight. They continued like that for a long time, just glad to be in each other’s company. They laughed and swayed and talked about everything and about nothing. They made their way back to their barstools, yawning but not quite ready to end the night. As they put their heads down on the table, still facing each other, Hawkeye fixed the flowers still tucked behind BJ’s ear.
“Goodnight, Beej.” he said with a yawn, closing his eyes.
“Goodnight, Hawk.” BJ replied, giving in to his exhaustion. That was the beauty of this place. It may not have been much, but it was their own private piece of the world. Even though it had been just for tonight, it would be enough.