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Yossarian was never attracted to men in a sexual way, the mere thought of a man's penis did not bring any sense of want, nor sexual arousal in the interior of his bodily organs, but for some reason, the Chaplain was an exception to that rule.
It was a conundrum, a quandary, somewhat of a paradoxical situation. For Yossarian treasures the feminine body in all it's bodacious glory. He loved women, from the curvaceous, to the thin and graceful. He swore under the sun he'd lay as many beautiful countesses as he could, before his days were numbered in this insidiously cruel war. The defiant soldier was uncertain of these continuous thoughts of him. Ever since he laid eyes on the Chaplain, it was love at first sight. No amount of questioning, nor conceited denial could bring him to change his mind about the complete and utter certainty within his answer. Yossarian made decisions readily, he was always sure of himself. In the case of The Chaplain, it was no different than the feelings he had for Luciana, or even Nurse Duckett.
Yet it wasn't the same either, because unlike his sexual desires for that Nurse who accompanied the Colonel long before; wherein he moaned in utter agony through his own wanton declaration of satisfaction, the Chaplain simply made Yossarian feel...well. Not just well in the scope of the terrors of the war, but the comforting sound of Chaplain's voice. That was something he always fawned over. In the phases when he tried to convince himself that one particular girl was much more appealing, he remembered how similar Chaplain was to a lady. Chaplain spoke in a timid whisper, he was sensitive to people's feelings, and overcome with the desire to please everyone, even when they did not thank him, or reciprocate. The calm and shy demeanor of him brought Yossarian back to a less intense environment, one that did not require his skills (or lack luster) flying as a bombardier. His presence eased him, his demeanor was soft, and unintimidating.
The chaplain almost seemed like Yossarian's only hope at one point, for example, the first time they ever meant; he was fascinated. Chaplain had captivating big eyes, that showed so much emotion; particularly fear, uncertainty, and a hint of submissiveness. Or maybe this was Yossarian's imagination mixing with pervious titillation. Either way; without a doubt in his corrupt and deranged mind, Yossarian yearned for ATT Tapmann, and that yearning only increased over the span of a few months. By god, he had even written it some what impulsively on one of the letters he was supposed to be censoring, along with "Washington Irving."
Though unlike the many women who he thought he fell in love with, Chaplain didn't whine on a regular basis to the point where Yossarian wished for the girly chit chat to stop, nor did Yossarian feel compelled to put a ring on his finger, especially considering how unlikely and strange that would've been anyway. On the other hand, Chaplain had never once said no to him, and always went out of his way to please him without asking anything in return (namely money, like Nately's whore.) So maybe it would make sense in some alternate reality that they were indeed destined to be life partners. In the U.S however, that was apparently unheard of, but nothing really made sense in the first place among this country.
The reason for thinking so heavily about Chaplain had now become valid, as he saw the man walking around the hospital room...talking to people. A sudden jolt of excitement went through his being. He was so overcome with joy, so happy to see his true love once again. The truth was, Yossarian desperately needed someone that could be of service as a guide in his life. He questioned where his morality went, during all this he felt sick mentally. More than anything, he needed someone to be there for him. No one, with the exception of his beautiful chaplain, made Yossarian feel the same. After several moments of anticipation, Chaplain quietly made his way to him.
Yossarian had already decided that today was the day he would let go of all his sanity, if Colonel Cathcart was really going to raise the missions one more time, he might as well sacrifice any sort of control. There was no point in finding a point. Instead of the religious seminars, which Yossarian had little interest in, for he was not as strongly religious as his companion, it seemed that he was there to help counsel and support soldiers like him. Yossarian was not truly sick, at least according to Doc Daneeka, but chaplain wouldn't know.
A clearing of a certain someone's throat distracted him suddenly, Dunbar was giving him a nasty glare, apparently Yossarian was so enraptured, he had neglected to listen, or respond to whatever Dunbar was trying to communicate in the cot right next to him. Not surprisingly, reflecting on his feelings for the man had somehow given him an erotic, homosexual-caused tent down below. At this point he might as well have been drooling like a sweaty dog in the sizzling summer heat.
Slight footsteps pressed their way methodically. Chaplain was taking his sweet time, but Yossarian was starting to get cold feet, he was impatient, he wanted him now, or never.
"How are you feeling Yossarian..."
Yossarian blinked, and thought hard upon the question. "I'm feeling..."
Chaplain smiled at him, encouraging words to drip out, but more then words would. "I'm feeling sick..."
"Oh no...that's too bad," Chaplain murmured sympathetically..."h-how are your kidneys?"
"Well..ya see, it's not my kidneys, just feeling a little...under the weather," Yossarian replied slyly, whilst forcing the most melancholic expression he could afford at that moment. But what Yossarian was so tempted to say in those previous seconds was not that. Love sick was his ailment, he lusted over Chaplain, having him in his presence was helping to cure it, but he'd need more to feel better.
"Chaplain...I'm confused...why are people trying to kill me?" Yossarian decided to renew the conversation with a question, in hopes of keeping the flow going, and to keep the rabbit from walking...or rather... running away from him.
The effeminate man pondered, silence overcame him for at least a minute an a half. During the lapse of time, Yossarians bloodshot, haggard eyes glossed over the man before him. Sandy brown hair was neatly tucked beneath the hat he was wearing, barely visible. The tall, but not taller frame he exhibited was slightly slouched, hands awkwardly melded together out of nervous habit. Twiddling his thumbs, as the incessant staring eventually made him look down at the ground, instead of right at him.
"W-well I-uh, do believe their intent is dependent on winning the battle, not because...of you."
"What difference does it make?" Look into my eyes damn it, Yossarian thought.
"Who would wanna kill you Yossarian," Chaplain whispered, "you're a good man."
Yossarian smirked, his eyes filled with his own type of intent, not to harm Chaplain, but to "complete the mission" so to speak. Chaplain was blushing profusely, though in this case, it was normal for him to feel shy and awkward when interacting with anyone. Major Major had informed Chaplain that it must be some sort of anxiety issue, considering the guy struggled from it himself.
"What can I do for you, he inquired. "Is there anything you'd like me to bring you?"
Yossarian pondered for one moment, before shaking his head. Chaplain lingered for a little longer, he could tell by the look on Yossarians face that something about his air was conceivably differing from the normally gloomy and sarcastic Yossarian he was used to. He opted to reach out to him, physically and emotionally, he'd offer as much support as he could.
"It will be alright," Chaplain relayed, placing a hand on Yossarian's shoulder kindly, "my dear friend..."
"Actually, there is one thing I need from you Chaplain."
"What is it?"
Without another second to spare, Yossarian grabbed Chaplain by his chin, and forced their lips together. Arousal shot up his spine in extravagant ecstasy. He didn't care if anyone saw right this moment. Underneath his fingertips he felt Chaplain trembling nervously, but unlike the expected reaction, Chaplain did not pull away, he stayed, in awe; as Yossarian quickly forced his tongue in, and back out, swiftly, but carefully feeling those luxurious lips against his own chapped ones. A sweet, but capable body writhed ever so slightly, bottom now firmly seated on Yossarian's bed, twitching, and contorting to complete the mission Yossarian was secretly longing for. For good measure, he had previously switched positions, and grinded his pelvis close to Chaplain's body, making it well known that Yossarian had truly become insane. Telling Chaplain just how much he did need him through his own body. After unlocking mouths, Yossarian realized the stares he was getting from Corporal Whitcomb (Chaplains assistant, probably there to tell him he was taking too long, and doing his job incorrectly) All the way across the room, it was bitter, callous, and disgusted all at once.
Yossarian didn't give a damn.