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one.
All his life, Jake has been a late bloomer.
When his siblings started walking by a year and a half, he only started walking at almost two years old. When all his friends went to primary school, he was held back because the teachers didn't think he was ready yet. Hitting puberty? His body was still lanky and awkward when he was 16 until he joined the swimming team. Suddenly his shoulders widened out, and he started bulking up on muscles. Girls started giggling and whispering among their friends when he would walk by them in the hallway.
Figuring out his sexuality, though, was where Jake was a true late bloomer.
Branson, Texas is a tiny, conservative town just about halfway between Austin and Houston, where the speed limit is almost continuously 30, and teenagers and young adults were set up by their grandparents at the local church on Sundays. For generations, his family had owned a farm just on the outskirts of town. Growing up as the youngest child of Hal and Annemarie Seresin with five older siblings, Jake spent most of his childhood in the background, trying his hardest to gain even a sliver of his parent's attention. Helping out on the farm each chance he got, went to church every Sunday, paid attention in school, and got the best grades in class. In the end, none of it mattered. His oldest brother Caleb went off to join the Marines when Jake was 9, making his parents so proud that for months, they would tell everyone they knew that their son was a hero. His oldest sister Abigail married her childhood sweetheart right out of high school and shortly after made his parents' proud grandparents of two white, golden twins. Hadley followed in Caleb's footsteps, enlisted in the Army, and then spent the rest of Jake's life in Branson on deployment. Nathaniel got accepted to the University of Texas and later into law school. Eleanor, his sibling closest to him in age, earned a degree in childhood education and then returned to marry the preacher's son. With all their time, attention, and love devoted to their older children, there was none left for Jake.
"Don't bother me with your homework, son. We have to babysit for your sister.", "Make yourself useful and tend to the farm while we visit your brother at university, Jake.", were words often heard around and in the house.
Jake got his first girlfriend at age 15 when he was still too skinny for his height and quiet. His memaw had introduced him to Joanie at church one day. Like a good Christian grandson, he had shaken her hand, flashed her an awkward smile, and agreed when his memaw asked him to escort Joanie to her softball practice the next day. The conversation was stilted initially, but Joanie seemed to like his coy smile and how he politely offered her a hand when she tripped. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and because she seemed kind of sweet, Jake asked her on a date. Following a few chaperoned dates, he asked her to be his girlfriend, and she appeared ecstatic. While his few friends made fun of Jake and Joanie , he was happy that he had someone who paid attention to him, held his hand in the school hallway, and even gave him his first kiss behind the bleachers of the softball field. He was basking in the attention so much that when Joanie moved away a few months later, he didn't notice that his sadness didn't come from his first "love" moving away but more from the loss of attention it meant. Back to mainly being alone at school, with no one to hold his hand, back to being invisible at home now that the only thing that made him interesting to his parents was gone.
When he got his next girlfriend - which turned out to be his last girlfriend - he had already joined the swimming team and bulked up. Raina was a beautiful girl, all olive skin and jet black hair. He had asked her on a date as a dare from his friends, who had started paying more attention to him now that he had become more popular with the girls at school. Raina was on a rebellious streak, wearing leather jackets, ripped jeans, and smoking, which in their tiny conservative town equaled her being almost possessed by the devil. It also meant his parents didn't exactly approve of her but were happy because it meant they had an inside with her parents, who had taken over the Branson general store and therefore meant business opportunities for the farm. Their dates mainly consisted of going to secret parties, driving out to the reservoir in the evening, and fumbling around in the back of Jake's old truck. Slowly, they progressed from making out to a messy handjob, and eventually, Raina gave Jake his first blowjob. He didn't enjoy it as much as he had thought and had wondered what his friends were raving about. He had felt awkward and a bit uncomfortable, but in his teenage mind, he attributed it to too many teeth and his less-than-stellar endurance. Still, he boasted to his friends, who all jeered and started clapping him on the back, calling him "stud." His relationship with Raina lasted longer than it did with Joanie but eventually fizzled out. She had gotten bored of all their dates and complained about Jake's unwillingness to have sex with her. A few weeks after their breakup, she had gotten together with another guy from the next town.
And Jake went back to being invisible to his parents.
Itching to get out of Branson, away from his parents, out of the shadow of his siblings, and wanting to be different from them, he applied to the Naval Academy in Annapolis. Directly after graduation, with just a lonely duffle bag slung over his shoulder and no contact with his family or friends, he had caught the next available flight out of Texas and towards the East Coast. On his first day there, he was assigned a roommate in Javy Machado. Javy burst into their shared room with a thick Louisiana accent, whining about missing his mother's gumbo and missing out on the next Mardi Gras. Taking one look at Jake and his wide eyes, he had all but dragged him out of the room, telling him he was taking him to a bar nearby; he had heard from the guy next to him on the flight they didn't check ID as long as you were wearing some form of uniform.
With one foot in the bar, blood thrumming in his veins from entering a bar underage, he meets Rooster for the first time. He was not yet known as Rooster, and he technically only heard him first, but still.
The bar is packed full of young people in uniform and civilians on a night out, the floor sticky with spilled beer and other mysterious fluids that Jake doesn't want to think about. With one look at the bar in the middle of the room and the many people gathered around, Javy is off, promising to return with a beer for each of them. Now left without his roommate, Jake steps further into the bar, looking around for a place to sit. Just as he saw a high table with two chairs open up, the sound of piano keys carries over the low 80's ballad from the speakers. A few seconds later, a clear and resounding voice starts singing.
Blue-jean baby
L.A. lady
Seamstress for the band
Pretty-eyed
Pirate smile
You'll marry a music man
Ballerina
You must've seen her
Dancing in the sand
And now she's in me
Always with me
Tiny dancer in my hand
With a start, he's transported back to his small bedroom back at the farm, listening to an Elton John CD he stole from Abigail on the ancient CD-Walkman he found in the attic, always careful to hide it under the mattress afterward in case anyone came into his room while he was out. Without even a conscious thought as to what he was doing, Jake walks closer to the small crowd that had, without him seeing it, formed around the tiny piano shoved into one corner of the bar. At first, he can't even see the piano, but then, a small gap forms between the crowd and Jake catches his first glimpse of the man belting out Tiny Dancer in a sweaty bar in Annapolis. He appears to be wearing the most hideous Hawaiian shirt Jake has ever seen, a red monstrosity covered in palm trees and what looks like cliffside, sunglasses pushed up into his curly hair even though it was mostly dark out, and the bar was dimly lit at best. Worst of all, though, he was sporting a mustache on his upper lip, which, coupled with the shirt, made him look like he stepped straight out of an 80's porno. A beautiful woman is standing behind him with her hands braced on his shoulders, singing along to the man and goofing around with what was obviously her friends. Noticing her antics behind him, the guy at the piano turns his head to look at her and flashes her a broad and infectious smile before turning back to the keys, throwing back his head to scream the lyrics into the crowd.
For some reason he can't really understand, Jake keeps staring at the man, so transfixed with the performance and the hyped-up crowd that he doesn't notice Javy coming back from the bar until he slaps a hand on his shoulder, nearly giving a heart attack before he's even turned 19.
"Hey man, did you manage to find us a table to sit at?" Javy has to slightly raise his voice to be heard over the singing and the crowd.
With a start, Jake turns to look at him. It takes him a few seconds to answer, first because it takes him a bit to get his bearings back after that scare, and second, it takes some effort to turn his attention away from the guy at the piano. "Jesus, man, you scared me half to death!" Jake starts before remembering what Javy asked him, "Yeah, man, there's an empty one right over there." He points over the table he spotted earlier, mercifully still empty, given that almost the whole bar had migrated over to crowd around the piano.
With a grateful nod, Jake takes one beer out of Javys' hand, taking a long gulp and absentmindedly playing with the label. "So, how did you end up in the academy?" he asks Javy. The man is going to be his roommate for the foreseeable future and seems like a nice guy, so Jake thinks it would be wise to get to know the other man a bit better. He's also in desperate need of a friend, given that he left his old friends from school back in Branson, not seeing the point in keeping up pretense when he has no intentions of ever returning to his tiny conservative town.
"Oh, the men in my family have been in the Navy for ages, so I kind of always knew that I wanted to join," Javy tells him excitedly, his whole face lighting up as he tells Jake about his family history and then New Orleans, where he grew up. Jake just listens to him, just happy that he seems to be making a friend that genuinely seems pleased to talk to him, which is in stark contrast to his family and his friends back home, where their friendships seemed to be mostly born out of convenience and because their families had been friends for ages.
When Javy finishes telling Jake about his older sister Maya and how she went off to study medicine at a university in California, he asks him about Jake and where he comes from. Now a bit uncomfortable that the conversation has turned to him and his family, who he doesn't really want to talk about, Jake turns back to picking at the label of his now empty beer and sheepishly smiles at Javy.
"Oh, my history is just a bit boring, I guess. Grew up in a tiny town in bumfuck Texas, family comes from a long line of farmers, yadda yadda. I do -" he starts saying before suddenly, two new beers slam down on their table, condensation already dripping down the side. With a start, Jake and Javy turn to the newcomer who had just interrupted their conversation.
The first thing Jake sees is a red Hawaiian shirt, which is enough to make him realize who was standing at their table. Piano guy .
Piano guy is wearing a white wife beater underneath his shirt, and Jake can see a hint of well-defined abs through the thin white fabric. Suddenly feeling a bit hot under the collar of his uniform, he looks up at the guy's face. His sunglasses are still on his head, and with a light sheen of sweat clinging to his face from his performance, Piano guy is smirking at him.
"Hey guys, how's it going? You're plebes, right? I thought I would come over to congratulate you, buy you a beer," Piano guy tells them, the smirk never leaving his face. "I'm Bradley Bradshaw; I'm a firstie."
In a move he will look back on later and wonder what happened, Jake's lips curl up into a smirk of his own, and without missing a beat, quips back, "I'm Jake, that's Javy. Bradley Bradshaw, huh? Well, it seems like your parents wanted to make your life hard on purpose when they named you."
Eyes never leaving Piano guys', no, Bradley's face, Jake notices something flash in his eyes, something that looks suspiciously like joy , before his smirk seems to widen if that were even possible. What Jake doesn't seem to notice is the way Javy is looking back and forth between the pair, first in confusion, and then a knowing look passes on his face, and then he keeps watching their interaction with glee on his face.
For a few intense seconds, Jake and Bradley keep looking at each other without breaking eye contact, before Bradley's eyes wander slowly down Jake's body and back up again.
"Ah, what do we have here? Seems like a cowboy got himself lost on the east coast," Bradley said, his voice taking on a fake southern drawl. "You need help getting home, cowboy ?"
The mention of home and hearing that fake southern drawl was like an ice-cold shower. Jake sat up straighter, his mouth setting into a firm line, realization washing over him. This was not friendly banter - it was mocking. While he had spent his whole life never leaving Texas, he had heard the stereotypes, saw them in movies and on television. That they ride horses to school, all want to secede from the union, are not the smartest. While he knew it was coming in the future, he didn't think he would be confronted with those stereotypes so soon after leaving Branson.
Both Javy and Bradley immediately notice the change in Jake's demeanor; Javy's delightful smile turns to a frown, a crease forming between his eyebrows, while Bradley's eyes widen with surprise, but the smirk still doesn't leave his face.
"Oh, you know, I have never seen a city as big and wide, y'know. I was so scared when I went into that flying machine, that devil contraption! And then I got here, and I reckon you must have those driving machines here as well, cars right? Back at home we only ride around on horses," Jake remarks, sarcasm dripping from every word. "But being away from home, I reckon you should be familiar with that; you sound like you're from California! Like, that must be so far from here, and there you have, like, those surfing boards, right? Like, you must really miss that!" he says, putting on his thickest accent, emphasizing each like in the sentence. You think you can make fun of me, Bradshaw, right back at you , he thinks, watching with a sick sort of satisfaction as the smirk slowly slides off Bradley's face. He vaguely hears Javy coughing, trying to distinguish the laugh he was about to let out at the look on Bradley's face. A few more tense seconds pass between the two, and then, to Jake's utter shock, the other man starts to smile, lips curled up. Looking into his eyes, Jake tries to decipher what he sees - that couldn't possibly be ... glee?
Straightening up from where his arms were perched on the table, Bradley crosses them over his chest, and then, like he isn't even rattled, says, "Well, it was nice meeting you guys. I'll see you around, darlin' ."
With that and a wink in Javy's direction, he walks off, back to his friend group, where the woman from earlier is staring at Jake and Javy with an indescribable look on her face. As Bradley reaches her, she slaps him on the arm, smiling at him and engaging him back into the conversation with their friends.
Pissed at being made fun of, and already deciding that he has no wish to ever interact with Bradley Bradshaw again, he turns his body back to Javy, intent on exclaiming his annoyance to his new friend, when he notices the look on his face. Javy is staring at him with wide eyes, looking at him with utter disbelief.
"Dude, what the fuck!" is the only thing Javy says, still staring at Jake. Taking a long gulp from the new beer Bradley had brought, he places it back down into the puddle of condensation accumulated over the course of their conversation. "I know, right? What a fucking dick! Hopefully, we don't have to see him too often at the academy," he grunts, "Don't know how long I'll be able to hold off on punching his face in."
When he sees that Javy's expression still hasn't changed, he takes another sip. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, perplexed about Javy's problem.
"Dude, are you -" Javy starts before he sighs deeply, "- never mind."
Now it is Jake's turn to stare at this new friend, and he sees a weird look cross over his face before he starts to smile. "Anyways, tell me more about that long line of farmers you come from."
two.
A lot has changed the next time Jake properly interacts with Bradley Bradshaw a few years later. Jake had become Hangman , Javy had become Coyote , and Bradley had become Rooster , which was the most stupid callsign Jake had ever heard if you asked him.
In one of the most important decisions of his life, Jake has turned to the skies, with Javy ever steady at his side. The first time he stepped with one foot into a fighter jet at the academy, he knew what he was supposed to do with his life. Taking to the skies for the first time only cemented that decision. This was what he was made for, what he was good at. Finding out his purpose in life changed him. If you asked him, only for the better. He thrived under the attention he got from his flying skills, craving it like a vampire craves blood. Soaking up the praise from his superiors like a carpet soaks up wine, his confidence soared, and slowly, his reserved smile turned into an ever-confident smirk, posture cocky, and dismissive of anyone who didn't match him in skill. Jake was the best at something for the first time in his life, and everyone knew it. His change in attitude didn't help make friendships, but that didn't matter to Jake. Javy's friendship, loyalty, deep understanding of Jake, and the attention from his superiors were enough for him. What does it matter what someone thinks of him when they are so obviously beneath him in skill? His callsign came quickly - he had a future ahead of him, and leaving his wingmen behind when they were too slow or made mistakes wasn't difficult. In Jake's opinion, you either keep up or get left behind. No one, apart from Javy, was worth risking his life for when they couldn't perform their job as he did.
Realizing he was gay came much slower than his callsign.
When he was back on base and occasionally frequented bars with his squadron, even if just to humiliate them in darts, women practically threw themselves at him. He always knew he was conventionally attractive - the girls at his old high school made sure of that - but before he became a fighter pilot, he was missing the confidence to attract more than the occasional suggestive glance from women. Now, he had his physical appearance, and the confidence and accolades to back it up. So, theoretically, he should take every chance he could get when he was back on base to flirt with women, go back with them to their place, and give them a night they would never forget. But while he could admit that he found the women who flirted with him attractive, he never desired to take it further than a quick handjob in a dingy bathroom. So when he met Alex for the first time, it took him a while to notice that their conversations were different from the ones he had with his squadron mates and the women who flirted with him. With Alex working on the base he was stationed at the time, he also saw him more often, and over time, Jake finally started to notice what was different with Alex. Whenever they would talk, Jake felt like he couldn't sit still, the feeling in his stomach making him antsy and, for some reason, move closer to Alex. One time when they were at a local community pool, Jake felt himself stiffen in his swim shorts when he looked at Alex's upper body, skin glistening with leftover water, and he had to quickly jump in the chilly pool to get himself to calm down.
The tipping point came just a week before Jake was supposed to go on another deployment. Because Alex was stationed at their base more permanently than Jake, he had off-base housing. Jake had come over for a barbeque and a few beers, which in the end, turned to them raiding Alex's liquor cabinet and tipping over from tipsy to a bit drunk. Intent on sobering up again, they had moved to the couch and were watching a mindless action thriller when all of a sudden, they were pressed side to side on the sofa, with Alex's arm over Jake's shoulder in the most clique move that existed. Slowly, Jake had turned his head to look at Alex and, seeing the look on his face, had closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Alex's in a bruising kiss. Alex, who later revealed that he had known he was gay since he could remember, had quickly taken the lead, moving them so that Jake was lying on the couch with Alex between his legs, slowly grinding against each other. Eventually, and with Jake's enthusiastic consent, they moved to the bedroom, where Jake got his first blowjob from a man, and then pulled Alex off with so much enthusiasm that at the end, they were just panting against each other, not even kissing. Then and there, Jake figured out why he never really enjoyed handjobs and blowjobs from Raina or any of the other, nameless women from bars. He didn't want to feel the smooth curves of women, didn't want to feel their soft breasts press against his body. He wanted to feel stubble on his skin and press himself against the hard lines of a man's body. Ecstatic that he finally found the last puzzle piece of his identity, he was eager to explore more of his sexuality and experience everything he could with a man before he left on his next deployment. Alex agreed with him that there was no point in starting anything serious when Jake would leave in less than a week, but he was definitely happy to be Jake's guinea pig.
When he runs into Bradley - no, Rooster again, he's walking down Main Street at the Naval Air Station in Yokosuka, where he’s stationed for a few more weeks. The last time he had seen Javy was when they were both stationed in Corpus Christi, but they had managed to arrange their leave at the same time, so he was excited to fly back to New Orleans, and spend a few weeks with Javy and his family.
He's looking down at his phone, texting with Javy, when he runs full force into someone coming out of the Starbucks. The first thing he feels is solid muscle, before there's hot liquid all over the front of his shirt. Both he and the mystery man almost fall over from the force of the collision, before jumping back frantically when the hot liquid - is that green? - spills over both of them.
"Fuck!" they both exclaim simultaneously, "Jesus Christ, that's hot!".
Pulling his shirt away from his chest to prevent the spill from sticking to his skin, he looks up and promptly has a deja vu. The first thing he sees is a green Hawaiian shirt filled with palm trees, but this time, there's a huge, green stain all over the front.
Still in shock that he somehow managed to run into Rooster - quite literally - on the other side of the world, and preoccupied with inspecting the damage to his shirt, he doesn't notice the other person standing next to Rooster with an amused smile on her face until she clears her throat. Both men look at her before Jake turns to Rooster, annoyed that the other man has ruined his good day. "You could just watch where you're going, Rooster, I heard you're a bit slow but I thought that was just in the air," he grunts, still trying to keep his soaked shirt away from his face. With an indignant expression on his face, Rooster sputters, "I need to watch where I'm going? Dude, you were just looking down at your phone, you ran into me!". Now Rooster looks slightly annoyed as well, but before he can retort, the woman clears her throat again, clearly trying to get their attention again.
Sighing, Rooster extends a hand in her direction.
"Jake, this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix," Rooster says, to which the woman - Phoenix - smiles and extends her hand towards him. "Nice to meet you, Jake.", she says.
"Lieutenant Junior Grade Jake Seresin, but everyone calls me Hangman," he replies, "got my callsign here a while after Rooster. You were in the same year as him, right? I think I remember seeing you around the academy from time to time."
At that, Rooster interrupts him, and damn it, that smirk is back from the bar. "Ah, so you paid attention to who was in the same year as me, Hangman? My my my darlin', I didn't know I left that much of an impression on you."
With a scowl, Jake just shrugs his shoulders. "Gotta pay attention to the competition, right? Not that you turned out to be much competition after all, a bit too slow for me."
"Ah, well, that might be true for my flying, but it certainly doesn't carry over into other aspects of my life, darlin' ," Rooster says, smirk almost painted onto his face, looking him up and down.
Annoyed at the stupid nickname in the fake southern drawl, and wondering what the fuck Rooster was talking about, he just grunts, and then, with a look at the open text message to Javy on his phone, says, "Whatever. I gotta get back to my housing now to change, thanks to you. Bye." With a smile towards Phoenix, who has been watching the short exchange with an amused expression, he starts walking around the pair, back to his temporary housing to change out of his disgusting shirt.
He doesn't notice Phoenix punching Rooster in the arm, laughing at him, and then excitedly talking to him as they walk in the opposite direction.
three.
When his CO tells Jake on his carrier that he has been called to TOPGUN, the first thing he does is walk back to the bunks and call Javy to tell him the news. He's glad he's alone when Javy tells him they also selected him to the same TOPGUN class as Jake, because the noise he lets out is not something he would be comfortable doing in front of other people that aren't Javy.
Luckily, they don't have to wait long to be reunited and arrive in Miramar just a few short weeks later. Somehow, Javy arranges for them to bunk together for the duration of their course, and the first few minutes in their shared barracks are spent in a bone-crushing hug. Javy, who had been stationed in the Middle East for a few months now, tells Jake about the pregnancy announcement from Maya a while ago, who moved back to New Orleans a few years ago for her residency, and then promptly got engaged to another doctor at the hospital she was working at. After a quick phone call to Maya, where Jake expresses his displeasure at being the last to know about the exciting family news, Jake and Javy decide to call it a night, worried about not being in top shape for their first day tomorrow.
The first few weeks go as expected - Jake leading at the front, Javy right behind him, and the rest so far behind that it's already pretty clear who will come first and second in their class, and who will win TOPGUN. Hangman is back in full force, which means that when the news arrives that a few previous TOPGUN attendees will join them for a few days to train, everyone is excited to see Hangman knocked down a couple pegs. Of course then, just his luck, his excitement about which TOPGUN graduates he can win against dies down pretty quickly when Rooster strides into the training room along with the group. Phoenix is not short behind, walking alongside a tall guy with glasses, who he later finds out is called Bob (which tops even Rooster in terms of a callsign, in his opinion) and Phoenix' RIO. He really should have expected this now that he thinks about it. While he's had his fun calling Rooster slow, that was only concerning his own performance. Actually, Rooster had won TOPGUN a few classes ago, and Phoenix directly after him. So it would make sense that they would call them back to train with the newest TOPGUN class, as they won not that long ago, and their training is still fresh. Apart from Rooster, Phoenix and Bob, there are a few others he's not interested in, and a guy called Fritz, who he learns has graduated TOPGUN only 2 points behind Rooster.
Seeing Rooster walk into the room, he lets his head fall back on the headrest with a simple grunt, to which Javy, who's sitting next to him, just slaps him on the knee and then pays attention to the instructor at the front, who has now started the lesson.
A few hours later, as he's walking on the tarmac toward his jet, he hears his name being called from behind. "Hangman, wait up!". He immediately knows who just called and stops on the spot, turning around as Rooster reaches him.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw, what can I do for you?" he asks, wanting to get this over with so that he can get started on pre-flight checks on his plane. Rooster just grins down at him, the slight height advantage between working in his favor, exuding an extra bit of authority.
"No need for formalities, Lieutenant," he says, and then, "You look good, Hangman."
Suddenly startled at Rooster's choice of words, it takes him a few seconds to grin and think of a witty remark back. "I am good, Rooster. In fact, I'm too good to be true," he says, to which Rooster barks out a loud and sudden laugh, even throwing his head back, which makes his aviators slide up his nose a bit, and extenuating the long line of the throat.
Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, Rooster just lets out a breathy "Yeah, right," before moving his hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Anyways, I wanted to ask you something. Me and my friends - you know, Phoenix, Bob, and Fritz - are going to the Hard Deck later tonight, to have some drinks and whatnot. I talked with them, and I just wanted to, like, invite you to join us if you want. Of course, Coyote is also invited," he says, letting out a long breath when he's finished.
In turn, Jake can just stare at him in shock. Did Rooster just invite him and Javy out for drinks? In fact, he's so shocked he kind of forgets to reply, only remembering he needs to say something back when Rooster lets out a confused "Hangman?".
Shaking his head minutely, he replies, "Ehm, sorry, I was not expecting that," he starts before continuing," I don't think we can, Rooster. I know you and the others are off tomorrow, but we have a hop scheduled later that day. I don't think it would be wise for us to go out and drink. I kind of have a streak going with not vomiting."
He doesn't know if he's imagining the look of disappointment on Rooster's face, but even if he didn't, it's quickly replaced by an easy smile. "No worries, man, just wanted to extend the invitation." He takes a couple of steps back and then follows it up with, "In case that changes, just let me know. We're here for a few more days."
Nodding, Jake stays where he is, silent, waiting for a sign that the conversation is over and he can return to his jet. Just before Rooster turns towards his own jet, he smirks again and then says, with a tone Jake can't quite decipher, "And by the way, Hangman, good luck up there. Let's see if you can come close to beating me." Now the one letting out a barking laugh, he retorts with a quick "Yeah, it's not me who's going to need the luck," before also walking away to finally start his pre-flight check.
When an hour later, Rooster actually managed to get tone-lock on Jake after a lengthy, intense dogfight, he's not sure what that fuzzy feeling in his stomach (and, not admitting it to himself, his groin) means when he climbs out of the jet, and sees a sweaty Rooster staring at him across the tarmac.
four.
Jake thought he had fought hard missions. Getting that first kill while stationed out in the Middle East was not only a tough fight at that moment but also later, when he was back on the carrier, on the phone with Javy, sobbing because he had just taken a life, and when he stepped out of his jet, everyone had swarmed around him, celebrating. He's still in therapy for it, even though he has since gone on other deployments. Occasionally, he will have a nightmare where a faceless, burning body in a flight suit is staring at him. So when he's called back to TOPGUN, he doesn't think too much about it, not even when he's at the Hard Deck, and TOPGUN graduate after graduate walks in. He's not surprised to see Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, and Fritz, and even has some fun taunting Rooster when the other man tells him "Hangman, you look … good". It feels good to be back.
He's not that amused that apparently Pops, who he in cohort with Javy and Payback threw out into the sand last night, turns out to be the legendary Maverick and their instructor. After hearing the mission parameters, he's too preoccupied to think too much about anything else, until Rooster's new conservative flight style starts to annoy him, and he starts probing and prodding where it hurts, which almost earns him a punch to the face and a disappointed look from Phoenix, Bob and even Javy. He does end up apologizing for his words when he's at the funeral for Admiral Kazansky, the legendary Iceman, whose coffin Rooster is staring at with an indescribable look on his face.
When Maverick tells everyone to bring swimwear and come to the beach near the Hard Deck instead of the base, he's skeptical about Maverick's plans but happy to have a quick distraction from the stressful last weeks. It takes him a while to get used to "Dogfight football," but being allowed to stare at a bunch of trained, shirtless men without making it awkward is always a win in his book. Even though they lost count a while ago about which team is in the lead, the atmosphere is so happy they all don't seem to care, and Harvard tackling Hondo into sand starts a chain reaction, everyone piling on top and laughing, the game seemingly now finished. It takes a while for everyone to get off of him. He's just lying down in the sand to catch his breath when suddenly, he feels someone blocking the sunlight. He opens his eyes, almost immediately losing his breath. Rooster is standing directly above him, smiling brightly down at him, almost mimicking the sun. He's sweaty, and there's sand all over his chest. He's breathing a bit heavier, and his stomach moves up and down, sweat running down his abs. It takes Jake too long - embarrassingly too long - to realize Rooster has extended a hand down to him, and he moves to grasp it. Rooster manages to pull him up with one quick tug, and suddenly, Jake feels a bit too hot. He's having trouble looking Rooster in the face, and not letting his eyes move lower and lower.
Rooster just grins at him and then takes a step closer, raising his hand, until his hand is in Jake's hair. Shocked to the core at the sudden contact, he stands stock still, trying to prevent his blood from moving south by the sheer power of will.
Standing so close Jake could see Rooster's eyelashes if he weren't wearing sunglasses, Rooster starts tugging at Jake's hair, which is certainly not helping with the blood situation.
"Hang on, you just have …" Rooster almost whispers, continuing to tug at his hair, "… so much sand in here. I would hate to have it ruin your hair routine, darlin' ." Apparently satisfied with how much sand he managed to remove from Jake's hair, Rooster takes a few steps back. Jake is still struggling to breathe, but it gets a bit easier now that Rooster is no longer centimeters away from his face. His tongue, however, doesn't seem to want to cooperate, stuck to the roof of his mouth.
"Anyways, see you tonight at the Hard Deck, Hangman," Rooster says, his voice sounding nonchalant and relaxed. Then, so quick Jake almost thinks he imagined it, Rooster winks at him, and then runs back to join Phoenix and Bob, where they are climbing into his Bronco.
Jake just stands there, still in shock. Did Rooster just … he thinks, and then abandons that thought as quickly as it came. There's no way that Rooster is interested in him; he probably doesn't even like men. Javy has also winked at him countless times before, and this kind of thing has always been Jake's and Rooster's type of banter. Trying to think desperately about something else, Jake starts walking back up the beach.
five.
A few months have passed since the suicide mission, where Jake disobeyed direct orders from Cyclone and saved Maverick and Rooster's life from the 5th Gen fighter yet. After being granted extensive leave for their service in the mission, all the Daggers went back to their families for a while, wanting to be in a familiar environment and showered with love and care from their loved ones. Jake went with Javy back to New Orleans. The last time he had any contact with his family was nearly two years ago, when his parents somehow found out about his confirmed kill (he suspects it was either Caleb or Hadley who told them) and wanted to congratulate him. As that was the first time they called him since he left for the academy all those years ago, Jake knew precisely why they were calling - now that he had done something extraordinary, they deemed him worthy of their attention, and probably wanted to parade him around Branson. That call lasted all of five minutes, and he blocked their number afterward. However, the full squad was now back in the San Diego area to celebrate Mav's birthday. They had decided to carpool to Mav's hanger in the Mojave. Rooster, who actually had a house in San Diego, crammed Phoenix, Bob, Javy, and Jake into his Bronco. Payback, Fanboy, and Fritz were riding with Omaha, who also lived in the San Diego area, after being stationed at Miramar after the mission. Harvard, Yale, and Halo were all riding rented motorcycles out into the desert, the only ones with a license for those.
There was 60's music coming out of the stereo in the Bronco, which now that Jake had heard Rooster perform Great Ball of Fire coupled with the man's outfits, made sense. It took them a while to get to Mav's hangar, and by the time they arrive, most of the other guests had already arrived. Penny was supplying the guests with a steady stream of alcohol, those who weren't designated drivers anyway. There were so many retired, high-ranking officers in Mav's hangar it took all of them (except Rooster, whose history with Mav had been revealed to the daggers) a bit to get used to not saluting, but that was quickly forgotten when Mav sees them, runs over and gives them all a hug, accepting his presents with a laugh.
Now, a few hours later, the party was in full force. There was even an impromptu dance floor, where Mav is now taking Penny around in an exaggerated, fake Waltz. A few of the other pilots - active and retired - had joined in. In the last half an hour, Jake had migrated further to the side, and was now standing in front of Mav's workbench, shielded a bit from view and looking at the collection of photos Mav had pinned to the wall. There were so many photos of Rooster's dad, Goose, and of Rooster growing up. Looking at a picture of Rooster on what must have been his academy graduation, he feels someone come up next to him. He knows immediately it's Rooster, and they both stand in silence for a while, looking at the photos while the party goes on behind them. After a few minutes, he feels Rooster turn around and lean back onto the workbench, a move which he copies. While he looks at the party and the impromptu dance floor, where now, much to his amusement and the older guests' bewilderment, Phoenix and Javy have started dropping it down to a Nicki Minaj song, he feels eyes on the side of his face. Finally looking at Rooster, he finds Rooster already staring at him, a grin on his face and something in his eyes. Then, without breaking eye contact, Rooster raises his hand and brushes a strand of Jake's hair behind his ear. While on his extended break, he had started letting his hair grow out of his regulation cut, something he found looked quite nice on him. Now frozen, he just continues staring at Rooster until the other starts lowering his hands, sends him a wink, and then walks back toward the crowd, leaving Jake standing there with his mouth wide open and thoughts running wild
Since when … What ?! … What does this mean? Was he flirting with him? How … If he was flirting with him, does that mean that moment at the beach meant what he initially thought? … What …
Jake is still standing there when Javy finds him, in the same position. When Javy tells him that they are driving back now because apparently, he and Phoenix are "too drunk" and Rooster wants to drive back now to minimize the chances of someone vomiting in his car, he just nods. After saying goodbye to Mav, the drive back is accompanied mainly by Javy's and Phoenix's blabbering and singing loudly to the music on the radio. Jake is just sitting in the back, smiling at his friends' antics, but thoughts still running a hundred miles an hour. They don't stop when Rooster drops them back at their AirBnB first, and they still don't stop when Jake is lying in his bed, thinking over every interaction between him and Rooster since they met.
plus one.
A few days later, Jake has come to the conclusion that maybe he's not as smart as he thought he was. Going so far as to even call himself dumb. Because there was no other reason as to why he would miss all those signs over the last decade, even going as far back as their first meeting, that Rooster was flirting with him. Even though he hadn't yet realized he was gay that fateful first meeting, there was no way to explain Rooster's behavior as anything but blatant flirting. The almost permanent smirk, calling him darlin' , fucking looking him up and down on multiple occasions like he was a delicious snack thrown in front of Rooster.
But it's not just Rooster's actions he's rethinking. The way he was so transfixed with Rooster's performance of Tiny Dancer that he didn't even notice Javy coming up beside him. The way his whole body had felt strung up when Rooster beat him in that dogfight back at TOPGUN. His body hadn't reacted that way because he lost, but rather expressed a clear interest in Rooster, in the competence he showed when he beat Jake. His reaction at the beach - how he had to focus all his attention on his cock to will it into staying relatively soft, so as to not embarrass himself with a public boner. He actually felt a bit foolish, and was even contemplating just getting the next flight out of San Diego for a while there, to get away from that feeling he felt now that he realized what happened with him and Rooster over the years. But then he thought back to that timid, almost reserved Jake that had arrived on the first red eye to Annapolis, and he had no interest in being that version of himself again. He was Hangman - confident, cocky, and one of the best damn pilots in the world. So when Bob called and invited everyone over to the Hard Deck for a few rounds, he pulled himself together. Because of his extended leave, he hadn't brought his khakis with him, so civvies it was. Standing in front of the mirror in the AirBnB, he looks at himself, and gives himself a mental pep talk. Come on, Jake, don't be a pussy , he thought, you look hot, and you're going over there, and get yourself that man . He really did look good. While it wasn't what he would usually wear to a bar, the occasion called for special assets. He had put on his best black jeans that emphasized his ass just right, a beige T-Shirt that was technically a size too small, and threw on his leather jacket on top. If this outfit didn't land him an invitation to Rooster's house, he didn't know what would.
Arriving at the Hard Deck sooner than Jake expected, he thanks the Uber driver, exits the car and then wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, heart pounding in his chest. Then, he follows Javy into the bar, going straight to Penny to order himself a beer, and prolonging his meeting with Rooster for just a few longer. All too soon, Penny slides the beer over to him, and he can't stall any longer. Taking a long gulp of the cold beer, he walks over to where their group has gathered around the pool table. Bob notices him first, and he takes off his jacket first before walking up behind Phoenix, throwing an arm over her shoulder in a friendly gesture, startling her a bit. Rooster is currently engaged in a pool game against Payback, but when he notices Jake, straightens up, leans on his pool cue, and flashes him a signature smirk. With his heart fluttering in his chest, he takes his chance and smiles back. When Rooster turns his attention back to the pool game, Jake engages in conversation with his friends, laughing, taking occasional sips of his beer to calm himself down. When Rooster wins the game, he offers the group the cue to start the next game. Taking a deep breath and thinking to himself Now or never, Jake , he sets his beer down on the window's edge, walks over to Rooster and takes the pool cue from him. When he grasps the cue, their fingers brush, and a shudder runs down Jake's spine.
"I think I'm gonna take a turn now," he says, trying to sound cocky. Their eyes lock for a moment, before Rooster smirks again, silently stepping to the side. Yale takes the other pool cue from Payback, and they start their new game, their friends talking around them. Jake takes it easy the first few rounds, but he can feel Rooster's eyes on him. Mentally pumping himself up again, he takes his shot. He walks right over to where Rooster is standing, positioning his cue stick, and then, with all the grace he has in his body, folds his body almost in half across the table, pushing his ass out a tiny bit, right in front of Rooster. While their friends are too preoccupied with conversation and don't notice, Jake hears the sharp intake of breath from behind him. Two turns later, he has won and, with a smile, tells his friends he's going out for a bit of fresh air. He can feel eyes on his back, following his every move, and he hopes that his intuition is correct, and Rooster will follow him out. With long strides, he's out the front door, quickly walks around the corner of the bar where there are no windows but a bench, and sits down. Taking a few deep breaths, he waits anxiously for a few minutes, before starting to lose hope. He's trying desperately to fight the feelings of disappointment that bubble up at being stood up, trying and failing to not feel embarrassed as well. Apparently, he had misconstrued the whole situation and was now making a fool of himself. Just as he moves to stand back up, he hears the front door and someone steps out. With bated breath, he waits where he's standing, too anxious to sit back down. Just a few seconds later, Rooster comes around the corner and Jake doesn't even have the chance to say anything before Rooster is all up in his face, forcing him back until his back hits the wall.
"If this isn't what you wanted, just punch me," is the only thing Rooster says, and then he moves in to kiss him.
Jake feels like his whole body is on fire. Rooster's lips are soft on his own, and his fucking mustache is tickling Jake's skin, which should be annoying but only makes Jake let out a soft moan at the sensation. Taking his chance, Rooster's tongue is almost immediately in his mouth, lazily grazing his own. Making a choked-off sound when Rooster's leg moves in between his own, they make out grinding against each other for a while. Just as Jake is starting to moan a little louder, the pressure on his cock from Rooster's leg providing just enough friction, getting him closer and closer to actually coming inside his pants like a horny teenager, Rooster pulls back. It's not a lot of distance - Jake can still feel the hard line of Rooster's cock against his leg - it does make him whine pathetically, not ready for the loss of contact.
His mind is a foggy haze, and the only thing he manages to stutter out breathlessly is a " Fuuuck , Roo … Bradley, come on," before his eyes flutter open and stare right into Bradley's. At the sound he just made, Bradley lets his head fall into the crook of Jake's neck, lightly sucking at the skin there, and then moves his lips higher and higher, until they are right at his ear.
"Jake, baby, do you know how long I've been waiting for this? God, the sounds you make," he whispers in his ear, his mustache tickling the skin there, making Jake giggle, that bastard. Bradley lets his head fall back down to his neck, and he feels him smile there, before Bradley takes a few steps back, hands never leaving Jake's, moving him along with him.
Just now remembering what Bradley had said, Jake feels heat rise in his cheeks, and he sheepishly smiles at Bradley, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sorry, took me a while." Taking one look at Jake's face, Bradley smiles, "It's alright, baby. You got there eventually."
Too preoccupied with looking at Bradley and with his head still feeling a little hazy, Jake only notices where Bradley has been leading them when they stand in front of Bradley's Bronco, the car only barely illuminated by the faint glow coming from inside the Hard Deck, parked in a dark corner on the edge of the tiny parking lot. In one move, Bradley tugs on Jake's hands, pulling him towards him so that his entire front is pressed to Bradley, and he actually has to tilt his head up a tiny bit to look in Bradley's eyes. Slowly, eyes never leaving Jake's, Jake feels Bradley's hands wander from his arms, lower and lower, until they land on his ass, lightly squeezing. Eyes fluttering shut again at the sensation, Jake only hears Bradley say, "Now, I don't know about you, but I was hoping we could continue with what we did earlier somewhere that's not against the side of the Hard Deck" making Jake gasp, before Bradley continues, "you up for that?"
"Yes, yes, yes, let's go!" is the only thing Jake manages to say, whole body already tense with anticipation. At Jake's eager response, Bradley only chuckles, before he lets go of Jake's ass and walks toward the back of the Bronco. Opening the door to the backseat, he moves to climb in, sitting down in the middle. He stumbles climbing in after him, almost falling down, his heart thundering wildly in his chest. In the end, he manages, straddles Bradley's lap with the most grace he can muster.
It's a tight fit - while Bradley is a little bit taller than him, Jake isn't exactly slight, and the backseat of the Bronco isn't spacious - but it works, even though Jake has to hunch his back a bit. Sitting astride his lap like this has Jake's thoughts running wild. The things he's feeling , he never thought he'd get this. Before figuring out he was gay, he thought something was wrong with him. After all, why else would he not want to have sex with his hot girlfriend, why was there never any genuine desire when he was fumbling around with women in the bathrooms of bars? Everyone else would feel like the king of the world, with all that female attention on themselves, and yet, Jake always felt a bit uncomfortable. Even with Alex, technically his only "real" relationship with a man, he never had these feelings. Sure, he wanted to have sex with Alex, but his interest in him was sexual. There were never any romantic feelings involved between the two of them, only friendship. With benefits.
So to be here, like this with Bradley, means so much to him it's hard to describe with words. Part of him wants to be angry that it took him this long to realize that Bradley was flirting with him and that they could have been here much sooner. The other part of him is glad they didn't rush into anything - over the last decade, Bradley and he have grown so much as people individually, and to be honest, Jake is wondering if they could have ever lasted with all the baggage they used to have before. Letting go of his past with Maverick was important to Bradley, and their relationship is better than ever before. All that built-up resentment he let go of would have crippled any relationship they would have attempted. Jake thinks he would have gone mad if every time he tried to ask Bradley about his family, he would have been shut down. And Jake's constant need to be the best, unwilling to compromise, would have driven Bradley away from him. Relationships are all about working together; before the mission, Jake had no regard for that. Now that he knows what it feels like to have true camaraderie - apart from Javy, obviously - he never wants to go back to the old Hangman. The one who didn't give a flying fuck about anyone else.
The way Bradley is holding on tightly to his hips as they make out, grinding against each other in the backseat, grounds Jake. From time to time, his hands wander, moving down to his thighs, up his stomach, towards his throat. His touch was featherlight, almost reverent . It makes Jake feel cherished . His lips are already getting plumb from all the kissing, their lips sliding against each other slickly as they make out.
With a bit of fumbling, Bradley manages to get Jake's jeans and briefs down, now naked from the waist down. Bradley's hands move back toward his ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. At the feel of Bradley's hands on his bare skin, Jake moans, letting his head fall down to Bradley's neck. With great difficulty, he manages to lift his head again, looking Bradley in the eyes as his own hands go down to Bradley's belt, struggling to get it open. Distracted, he can only mumble a desperate "Off, get them off," and then lets out a tiny "Yes!" in triumph when he succeeds.
Bradley pats him on the knee, telling him to lift up a bit, and then they're both naked. When Jake sits back down, they both groan out in unison, the feeling of their cocks touching making both lose their bearings for a while. At this point, the air in the Bronco has turned thick with sex, and the windows fogged up. They both try to keep their movements less frantic, not wanting the car to rock too much, lest someone notices what they're doing here in the back of the parking lot. Neither of them wants to get arrested for indecent exposure.
Pulling his mouth away from Jake, Bradley holds his hand up in front of Jake's face. "Get that wet for me, darlin' , will you?"
Jake can't help but moan again, and licks Bradley's palm. Feeling bold, Jake grabs Bradley's hand, pulling it towards his face, and sucks a few of Bradley's fingers in his mouth, moaning around them. Bradley's eyes almost roll back to the back of his head, and the sounds that come out his mouth are almost painful.
Too turned on to wait any longer, Bradley pulls his fingers out of Jake's mouth, spits in his hand to get it wetter, and then moves it down his body, wrapping his palm around both of them. At this point, Jake can't do much more than letting out little, breathless uh uh uhs every few seconds, out of his mind with pleasure at the feeling of Bradley's big hand around both of them, moving up and down their cocks, spit and precome slicking the way. A bit deliriously, he's also thinking that he now knows where Bradley's callsign comes from, and he can't fucking wait to get that man in his bed. Bradley is just mumbling words between them. The only ones Jake can decipher are a lot of expletives. There's pressure slowly building up in his gut.
"Oh my god, Bradley, I'm so close," he mumbles, not even really registering he said it. All of a sudden, he feels Bradley's hand move lower from where it was resting on the small of his back, moving between his cheeks. When Bradley's finger catches on his rim, applying the tiniest bit of pressure, it's over. Jake comes so hard he sees stars behind his eyelids, and moans so loud it swallows up the sound Bradley makes as he comes himself.
Spaced out from their respective orgasms, they sit there in silence, just quietly panting into each other's mouths; no need for words right now. It takes them a while to return to themselves, and then Bradley silently grabs a spare sweatshirt he had lying around in the backseat, cleaning them off as best as he can. Afterward, Jake sits up slightly, thighs protesting from where he's been straddled across Bradley's lap for so long. When he sits down next to Bradley, they stare at each other, before bursting out in a fit of giggles, Jake hiding his head in Bradley's shoulder. When fingers gently tilt his chin up, he pushes himself up, laying a soft kiss on Bradley's lips.
"Well, that was …" Jake starts, before Bradley finishes his sentence with a disbelieving, "Yeah, you could say that."
Content, they stay wrapped up in each other for a bit longer, and then Bradley moves to pull his pants back up from where they were lying at his ankles. Jake's clothes are in the trunk, thrown there by Bradley when he pulled them off Jake. Then, with a quick peck to Jake's lips, Bradley opens the side door, letting in a gust of fresh sea air, diluting the thick air in the car. Reluctant to distance himself from Jake, Bradley turns to him with a look of uncertainty on his face.
"I'm going to fish your clothes out of my trunk for you, darlin'. I really want to have a real conversation with you, but, if I'm honest with you, I don't really want to have it in the backseat of my car where we just had sex … so, what do you say to coming back to my place with me? I could even make a little something for you if you want," Bradley asks. Chuckling a bit to himself at his usually so confident Something (partner, boyfriend, what exactly are they?) , Jake nods.
"That sounds good, yeah."
Satisfied with that answer, Bradley goes to the trunk and then hands the clothes back to Jake before closing the backdoor of the car, going around the side of the car, and sitting down in the driver's seat. When Bradley starts the car, Jake sends off a quick text to Javy, not wanting his friend to worry about where he went.
Went home, talk to you in the morning.
Afterward, he starts pulling his briefs and pants on again, smiling to himself when he sees Bradley tuning the radio away from the current station. When the first notes to Tiny Dancer come out of the stereo and Bradley starts singing along quietly, a sudden burst of happiness curses through Jake's body.
Yeah, this is exactly where he's supposed to be.