A night in Korea

 T'Len

2003

 

 

 

Pairing: Hawkeye Pierce/Sidney Freedman

Code: NC-17

Feedback: tlen11@freenet.de

Summary: Some comfort at night.

 

Disclaimer: The characters in this story don’t belong to me. I only borrowed them for some fun. No moneymaking, no violation of copyrights are intended. The story is mine and it is just fanfiction. If you are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with this topic, then look elsewhere for your entertainment. English is not my native language, so please be patient with my mistakes. Thanks to Lady Charena for the beta. For all remaining errors, blame me.

 

 

 

“Sid?” Timidly you knock at the door of my tent, and enter after I have given my okay.

 

“Sid?” You look questioningly at me, remaining right behind the door. You seem tired. You have lost weight since the last time I saw you. And the brightness in your eyes has vanished completely. This damn war is chewing more and more at your inner peace. I shouldn’t be surprised. No one can be here and remain unaffected. Especially not someone like you.

 

“Do you remember the ‘love-camp’?” You ask quietly.

 

Sure I do, Hawk. How couldn’t I? ‘Love-camp’ was the nick-name the students gave that outdoor-trip the college provided for its newbies with the goal to get them knowing each other better. A week in the woods, campfires and such things. But for us the name got a complete other meaning.

 

“Sure I do remember, Hawk,” I answer.

 

You chew at your upper lip. “And do you regret?” you finally ask.

 

How could I regret what we shared on that special night? You had been one of the newbies, I in my senior-year. I had come to the camp as one of the instructors. We had shared one tent. And one night… more. I’m still not sure what brought us to do this. We were drunk, yes, but not enough that I would’ve forgotten appropriate behaviour for young men. Anyway you gave me the damn best blow-job I ever got in my life and later the hottest ride.

 

“I don’t regret it, Hawk.” I answer.

 

You still stand right behind the door. Uncertain, shy, the look in your eyes unsteady. I wonder why you have come now and brought up this topic. We never talked about it. Not back then at the college, not later. It was just one shared night, nothing more. At least I wanted to believe this and I thought you wanted the same. I’m not so sure anymore. And although we have never talked about it I’m certain that your sexuality is more turned toward men then women. Is it also turned toward me?

 

We briefly stayed in touch during your first year at the college. Then I left. This damn war was responsible for us meeting again and becoming closer friends as ever. The only good thing that came out of this hell.

 

“Have you ever wanted to repeat it, Sid?”

 

Personally I don’t like to think about what happened then, why I enjoyed it so much and if I ever wanted to do it again. For my own sake I prefer to see myself as a happily married man and father. It makes things much easier. Doctors are not good patients. Especially not this doctor.

 

I pat beside myself at the narrow bunk I’m sitting on. “Hawk, if you want to talk about that night, just say so. And if you came here because you want to fuck me again then also say it.”

My blatant speaking conjures a small smile on your lips, but it vanishes as quick as it was shown. Finally you move and sat down beside me.

 

“I should have told them that I’m a queer fag when they drafted me,” you say. “Or try to kiss the officials.”

 

“It wouldn’t have worked,” I answer. “Look at Klinger.”

 

An uncomfortable silence rises between us. Really, I don’t know what to say. You don’t need a psychiatrist right now. You need a friend. One who really understands who you are and what you are. I have never been sure if you are comfortable with your sexuality, if you would admit it to yourself. or if you ever had intimacy with another man. As I said, we never talked about that part of our lives. But somehow I know that the ever joking, womanising Hawkeye you show all the others here is only a mask. That’s not the real Benjamin Franklin Pierce. Not if it comes to your sexual desires, not if it comes to your mental needs, your true feelings.

 

As if you have read my thoughts, you speak, so quietly that I hardly can hear you. “I can’t take it any longer - all this pretending and faking. Sometimes I just want to do something so they’ll find it out and fire me. And all this will finally end.”

 

“You’d never do that, Hawk, and you know that. You’d never ruin your medical career.” If it only would come to our life in the army - probably we all would choose to come out with some deep secrets. But a dishonourable discharge, marked as a homosexual, would nearly make it impossible to work furthermore as a physician, even in Grabeapple Cove. Or especially there. I wonder if your father knows, if even anybody knows?

 

“No, I wouldn’t,” you assure me with a sad voice. ”I will continue putting together wounded kids who should be anywhere then but here. I will continue to dig day after day in guts and blood. I will continue to see them dying, unable to…”

 

Your voice trails off. I put my arm around your shoulders, driving you closer, resting your head on my shoulder. I just wish I could help you. Oh I know all the nice phrases a psychiatrist should tell his patient in such a situation. You are not alone, we are here to help the Korean people, you are doing a important job, the victim’s not meaningless blablabla….

 

But I also know the last thing you need now is Major Freedman. You need your friend Sidney but he feels at a loss. I don’t know how I can help you, or what I could say to ease your pain. There is just nothing one can say, that makes the stupidity of this war and its victims more bearable. Absolutely nothing. And I’m very aware how much this all gnaws on you. It chews at all of us but probably you suffer more, than others. I at least got occasionally a glimpse of the sensitive soul Hawkeye Pierce is. I’m glad you are so, but I also know that this may slowly but constantly kill you if you neglect you doubts and fears, your true self.

 

And I’m only here for one or two days. Even if I try to come as often as possible, I couldn’t give you the continued support you need. “You need someone to talk here;” I say. “What about Trapper?”

 

You shake your head. “No. No, he wouldn’t understand. Trapper is not… like me.”

 

“He suffers as much as you beneath the war,” I strengthen out. “And I’m sure, he’s a tolerant guy. Besides you don’t have to tell him anything. ”

 

But you shake your head vigorously again. “No. No. Not Trap. I can’t.”

 

I have always wondered if you have a crush on Trapper McIntyre. You are close friends of course and he’s an attractive man. On the other hand he is also married with kids, so most likely there is no chance for a romance. I can understand that you didn’t dare to strip down to your true personality in front of him. Yes, I can. I wouldn’t do so either.

 

Again we are silent until I hear a sob. It takes a moment until I realise that it’s you who are crying on my shoulder. I don’t know why I do what I do but I just raise your head slightly and kiss the tears away. Suddenly you press your mouth on mine and kiss me. It is a fierce, desperate kiss which takes my breath away.

 

“Sid, please hold me, let me feel like I’m still alive,” you beg as you finally let go.

 

I nod. Tenderly I push you back on the bunk and began to kiss you again. Sweetly this time. I kiss away the tears, which still run down your face. I kiss your throat, your lips, your closed eyes, anyplace in your face.

 

A inner voice of mine says I shouldn’t proceed further. Not so much because I fear the risk of discovery – I’m relatively sure no one will need a psychiatrist in the night – more because I fear for our own sake afterwards. Especially yours. Would I really do you good with this? Or do I just kindle your problems even more? After all I will be gone again in a few days.

 

You raise your arms and drive me down on you. “I need you,” you whisper. “I need you so much.”

 

That does it. I shove my doubts away but not all logic yet. So I free myself from you. “Let me lock the door first:”

 

Said and done. Then I ask you to stand up. I lay the blankets on the floor. Army bunks are just not big enough for two adult guys. I undress myself quickly, then do the same with you. As we are both naked we hesitate for a moment. Then you lay down on your back, on open invitation. I turn the light nearly down so that we don’t throw shadows, then I lay beside you

 

Suddenly it feels like in the ‘love-camp’ again. I try to pretend that we are two young students, which just spending an enjoyable time in the nature. There is no war, no bombs, no death, no horror. I kiss and stroke you, trying to reach any part of your body. I’m rewarded with soft moans  But not like our first night you remain completely passive. So I try to give you pleasure and I hope you will forget everything else for a while as I’m determined to do. Just a few moments of peace – we deserve it, you deserve it more then anyone else.

 

I turn around to direct my attention to your cock, which already has began to harden. I lick over it, revelling in its taste. It is somehow salty and manly. I hear you gasp as you try to suppress too loud moans. I shift a bit so that my own erect cock  is presented to you. Better I busy your mouth before someone outside hears you. You understand my invitation immediately and I feel myself surrounded by your mouth. I direct my attention back to your cock and start sucking you, too.

 

After a while your mouth suddenly is gone from my cock. I, too, let go of you and turn around to lock what happened. You have turned on your side, your left leg bend, an open invitation. I understand and snuggle close to your back. We don’t have any lubricant but my cock is wet with your saliva. So that had to do it as it did back then in the woods. I wet my fingers and carefully stretch you.


As you eagerly press back against me, I don’t waste any more time. I place the tip of my cock at your entrance and slowly press in. You groan, but it is not painful, more as a sigh, as if someone has finally got what he wanted. I caress your hair. It occurs to me that we didn’t have spoken since we got intimate. “Hawk,”  I whisper tenderly as I join our bodies.

 

///

 

We must have fallen asleep right after your climax. Its no wonder after the exhausting day in the OR that lays behind you. And mine hadn’t been much easier with my travel here. I’m not sure how much time has passed before I awoke. You are snuggled into my arms, my cock still in your ass. As I want to pull out you wake, too, and clench your anal-muscles around me.

 

“Don’t go.. please,” you whisper.

 

“Hawk, you should go back to the swamp.” I say. It’s time to return to reality and logic. “If someone misses you, if there is an emergency…”

 

“Only one more time.. please.”

 

Again I can hear tears in your voice. “I felt so alive while we…”

 

The psychiatrist in me says I should start to question you what just brought this up just this night. Why not earlier? Have you simply reached your breaking point? Or has something especially terrible happened lately. Did you just need to assure you that you are still able to feel something? Did you just need physical release?

 

But the man in me who very much enjoyed our union and who had have too less sex lately, too, is stronger. Besides my cock already has harden again. So I start to move in you, stroking your own member to full hardness in the same time.

 

///

 

We had quickly reached our climax together. It was not the tender loving we did earlier this night, more a wild fucking now, trying to reach the end quickly, so that we could go back to normality. At least, it was for me. Suddenly I want to end this immediately. End it before I tempted to think too much over it. End it before we may say something we don’t want to hear, before someone speaks these three crucial words. It was just sex, and nothing more I assure myself. It can’t be more. It shouldn’t be more. Especially not here. And I desperately hope you feel the same.

 

As soon as we have come, I rise and put my clothes on. I toss yours onto you and you understand. We don’t say anything as we dress.

 

Only as you already have your hand on the door you say: “Thank you, Sid.”

 

I don’t know what to say so I just nod. I hope this night really has helped you and has not caused even more harm to your already badly wounded soul. I’ll pray for it.

 

For a moment our eyes lock, then you turn around and go. I know we will not talk about this night like we did not talk about the night years ago. We will just ignore it until it may surface again one day. Till then we will continue as ever. I will see my patients and not analysing myself. And you will save as many lives as you can, showing the world the joking, easygoing Hawkeye. The true Benjamin Franklin Pierce will remain buried deep inside you again. 

 

It was just another night in Korea.

 

End