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Charles and Hawkeye were bored. Utterly and stunningly bored. There was absolutely nothing for them to do. The last patients had been shipped off that morning. There were no nurses to hustle, the distiller had run dry, Rosie’s was closed, and they’d been kick out of the Officers Club when they closed. And to top it all off, everyone in camp was asleep. Whoever said four am was tranquil could stuff it.
“I’m so bored!” Hawkeye whined for the eighth time in the last two minutes. He rolled around on one of the post-ops cots, arms flopping all over, messing up the sheets.
“Would you cease that insufferable droning,” Charles groaned from across the aisle as he lay on his back.
“I can’t help it mommy! There is nothing to do!” Hawkeye’s whining reached a new peak.
“You could sleep,” Charles stated bluntly.
“I can’t! That last shot of tequila had a lot of sugar. I think it overloaded my system.” Hawkeye said as he leapt to his feet to prove his point and started a rough exercise routine of jumping jacks.
“Sit down, numbskull” Charles growled “And tequila doesn’t have sugar you’re just plain drunk.”
“Now that you mention it my skull does feel a little numb,” Hawkeye said as he actually complied with the request and plopped down onto Charles cot, nearly landing on the other mans legs. “You never told me why you couldn’t sleep, Chuck.”
“That’s not any of your business,” Charles said glaring at the other man. His own reason for avoiding sleep was the recent torrent of blood and monsters that tore at his defenseless unconscious mind.
“Well, help me think of something to do, otherwise I’ll only have you to entertain me.” Hawkeye leaned over Charles and wiggled his eyebrows at him suggestively. That elicited a response out of Charles as he abruptly got up and out of bed.
“Well, since you put it so succinctly.” Charles began to pace down the aisle. “At the risk of sounding like you, we could prop water buckets over doors.”
“Nah, that one didn’t work remember,” Hawkeye said dismissing the idea immediately. “Oh I know! We could use the last of this month’s toilet paper to tee-pee the mess tent,” Hawkeye offered as he flopped on the bed like a fish out of water.
“No, too juvenile. We need something much better,” Charles said as he paced.
“If only Beej hadn’t passed out,” Hawkeye sighed dramatically. “He’d have a few ideas.”
Charles let out a cry and a startled Hawkeye abruptly fell of the bed. “What!? Are the Chinese coming?” Hawkeye screeched from his position on the floor.
“You dolt! Hunnicutt! It’s perfect, it’s genius!” Charles turned towards his fallen colleague.
“What are you talking about? Beej isn’t here.” Hawkeye’ words were slurred as he sat his bum on the bed again.
Charles rushed toward him, his eyes shinning with prospect. “Don’t you see! He’s passed out! He’ll have no idea.”
“What? What?” Hawkeye asked, his own eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“We’ll shave his upper lip!” Charles declared as if he’d just struck gold.
Hawkeye whooped and laughed evilly. “That’s perfect! He’ll never know it was us!”
“Well, he won’t know it was me,” Charles said dismissing Hawkeye’s over zealousness. “But, we need to find some shaving crème and a razor.” Charles stood and Hawkeye followed him like an obedient puppy.
They reached the Swamp with little trouble, Hawkeye tripped only once - over his own feet. They entered the tent relatively loudly. Charles didn’t think Hawkeye could ever enter a building silently. They grabbed Hunnicutts shaving kit and sat down in front of the passed - out surgeon. He was lying on his stomach with his head facing towards them.
They, or rather Charles, lathered the man’s upper lip carefully so as not to rouse him. He doubted that Hunnicutt emerging from his passed out state, but he wasn’t going to take the chance. Hawkeye loomed in, giggling and held up the razor.
“I think I should do the deed.” Charles whispered. The prank wouldn’t succeed if Hawkeye hacked the mustache off. Hawkeye let out an ‘awww’ but surrendered the razor anyway.
Charles was able to shave off the silly mustache without any trouble. Hunnicutt didn’t even so much as twitch. All Hawkeye could do was giggle. Once they were finished, Charles cleaned up any evidence of their prank. Hawkeye’s drunkenness was wearing off and was turning into sloppy sleepiness, but he was still giggling as he fell onto his cot. Charles could finally sleep as well, nightmares hopefully forgotten.
---
The next morning, half the camp was woken up with a loud screech. “What?!” BJ screamed, but paused. His head throbbed painfully form his hangover. He continued, still as mad as ever, but in a much softer voice then before. “What the hell happened to my moustache!” BJ turned accusingly towards Hawkeye, who even though his own hangover was killing him, laughing hysterically.
Charles rolled over and barked out a laugh. “It appears to be missing. That caterpillar must have tired of you. You’d better catch it.” Charles laughed and gestured towards the tent’s entrance and rolled over to go back to sleep.
“It’s gone!” BJ sat stunned. Hawkeye’s laughter was his only answer.
Charles sat up to head off the next inevitable question. “You don’t remember shaving it off last night?” He asked innocently.
BJ looked over at him wide-eyed. “I would never do that!”
“You had an epiphany while you were drunk and you decided to shave it off.” Charles answered and decided his involvement was over. He laid back down sleep. Hawkeye continued to laugh, no matter how much his head heart.
---
“I still can’t believe it’s gone,” BJ grumbled as he sat, mourning the loss of his facial hair. They were the only two in the Swamp. Charles had finally emerged from his bed and was eating at the mess tent.
“Aww, don’t worry about it.” Hawkeye smiled over at his friend, his hangover slowly receding.
“But it’s gone!” BJ moaned as if he’d lost his true love. He fell back dramatically onto his bed.
Hawkeye only chuckled. “Promise you won’t grow it back.”
BJ turned to glare at him. “Why not?!”
Hawkeye stood up from his cot and walked over to BJ’s. He stooped over BJ and kissed him roughly. He pulled away for a moment smiling. “Because I like kissing you sans-stache.”
BJ smacked him on the thigh, but smiled as Hawkeye leaned back to down to capture the clean shaven lips.