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English
Series:
Part 17 of Swamp(y) Sex , Part 1 of Five Stages
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The Swamp monthly theme fics
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Published:
2019-02-04
Words:
735
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1/1
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10
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124
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2,146

Denial

Summary:

Trap lies in bed and listens and wonders if they know - if they know. If BJ remembers when it was Trapper and Hawkeye fucking the night away.

Notes:

With thanks to Greenie for the inspo!

This is definitely inspired by, in that this story wouldn't exist if Greenie hadn't shared the first chapter of Tente à Trois during December. It also shares the same basic premise, which sees Frank leaving the 4077th at the end of S3 and Trap, Hawk and Beej having to figure out their tangle of relationships. It isn't really in the same AU, but Tente à Trois context definitely won't hurt if you feel moved to read that first.

Work Text:

Denial

  

Trap lies in bed and listens and wonders if they know - if they know. If BJ remembers when it was Trapper and Hawkeye fucking the night away. If Trap was able to give Hawk that special... something, would it still be? Or would Hawk get seduced anyway, by all that tan skin and that cock even Trap can't help looking sideways at in the shower. (Look, he might hate BJ, for all sorts of reasons, some of them more reasonable than others, but he can't help noticing the man is tall and jacked and hung like a donkey. Trap's not queer, okay? But he isn't blind, either.)

"Oh God, Beej," Hawk murmurs. Trap knows that sound, and knows full well there's no malice in it, not from Hawkeye. He's far too lost in the moment, lost in being penetrated, being full. He isn't thinking about Trap. He's not thinking about anything at all beyond BJ and BJ's cock, beyond the pleasure racing through his veins, beyond the need to be fucked until he falls apart.

BJ always lets him come, and Trap's oddly insulted. He spent all this time, more than a fucking year, teaching Hawkeye to hold back, to keep a grip on himself until Trap said it was okay, or to go back to his cot still hard and needy, and here's BJ fucking Hunnicutt ruining all his hard work.

Of course, it could be said Trap was cruel to Hawkeye, cruel to keep him that desperate. It could be said it's no wonder Hawkeye left for pastures new when Trap refused to acknowledge this... this thing, when he made Hawkeye getting off conditional on behaving, on not touching Trap without being told to, on not saying everything he wants - wanted - to say, the things Trap wouldn't let him voice.

(It could be said, by anyone who didn't much value their life, that Trap cares a little too much about Hawk getting fucked by another guy, that it's not very manly to moon over anybody, much less another man, that maybe Trap had more stock in his relationship with Hawkeye than he wants to acknowledge. But no one's stupid enough to say such a thing to him, and he's sure as hell not admitting it to himself, so the thought can piss off into the minefield.)

A warm, tender 'Hawkeye' drifts over from Hawk's corner, and no, Trapper is not touching himself because of the whimpers and moans, because of the creak of a cot that was never meant to hold two grown men, never mind to have them fuck on it, he's jerking off because he's tired and frustrated and he damn well wants to sleep. There are still plenty of nurses in this unit, and they're due a fresh batch any day now, so Trap doesn't need anything from Hawkeye or from fucking BJ, he's just fine.

The whining and the creaking get louder, but it's absolutely a coincidence that Trap's own orgasm hits just after twin gasps of pleasure and a wail of 'God, Beej!' Trapper made Hawkeye cry out to God plenty of times. He's frustrated because it's been a long day and he's tired and- "Just fucking shut the hell up."

There's silence from Hawk's cot, then, "Sorry, Trap," in the sex-soft voice of satisfaction Hawkeye gets when he comes. (Trap hasn't heard it a lot. Maybe if he'd-)

He turns on his side, away from them, away from the cosy bubble they've created for themselves. He can still hear the murmurs and the quiet laughter, so he pulls the blanket up over his head and fills his mind with thoughts of Louise, soft and warm and welcoming, the way she felt the last time he was inside of her.

That's why he's frustrated, because he misses his wife. It has nothing to do with Hawkeye, with how Hawk fucks himself down onto Trap's cock, or with how even from the other side of the tent, when Hawkeye and BJ have sex, it sounds more like lovemaking than like frantic rutting. Trap doesn't need that. He doesn't even want it, not from Hawkeye. Hawk was just a hole to fuck, and Trap has lots of those to choose from. For the thirtieth time in the last three minutes, he replaces Hawkeye with Louise in his mind's eye.

This is fine. This is okay. This is fine.

~ fin ~

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