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Of fucking course it’s raining. It’s not supposed to rain in San Diego, but of course, today — of all days — it does.. Jake ducks back under the restaurant awning and pulls out his phone again, just to check again if the text he just received was real.
mike: i’ll pay you back for the missed reservation
mike: sorry
On fucking Valentines Day. Jake’s boyfriend - sorry - his ex-boyfriend had called him five minutes before they were supposed to meet for dinner and broke up with him.
Just like that.
Now, not only is he single but he’s also about to be out a hundred dollars for a no-show charge from this stupid swanky restaurant he'd picked out almost two months ago. It had been on his ‘to try’ list forever and getting a spot had been near impossible. And the food… the food at this place is - or was supposed to be amazing. But now not only is he out a meal that he’d been looking forward to for months, he’s out money and a boyfriend.
“Fuck.” Jake unlocks his phone and opens Mike’s number. His finger hovers a moment over the call button -
“Jake?” The voice pulls him out from his thoughts, reminding him that this is not just some sick twisted fever dream.
He looks up and finds Bradley staring at him from half a block away, dressed in a suit and tie. Well fuck me , Jake thinks, even Bradshaw’s got a date on Valentines Day .
“What’re you doing here?” Bradley asks, ducking under the awning to join him. He runs a hand through his hair, shaking out the curls flattened by the rain.
Jake rolls his eyes, avoiding Bradley’s gaze. “I could ask the same thing.”
Bradley shrugs, loosening his tie with a tug. “You got a hot date or somethin’?”
Jake barks out a bitter laugh and pockets his phone. “Not anymore.”
“Your date bailed? On Valentine's Day?”
Jake flashes Bradley a toothy grin but there’s no warmth behind it. “Broke up with me, actually. Five minutes ago.”
“Shit.”
“That’s one way to put it. But look at you - did your date ditch you already?”
“No. I was with my mom. She loves Valentine's Day - she and my dad took it really seriously. We used to celebrate together, the three of us. The two of us keep up the tradition and I take her to tea every year.”
“Oh.” Jake furrows his brows. That wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “That’s really… sweet.”
Bradley shrugs. They stand in silence a moment, bumping shoulders when another couple brushes past them to the restaurant doors.
“What are you going to do now?” Bradley looks Jake over once, twice and smiles, cocking his head slightly.
“Go home to my good friend, Mr. Jim Beam.”
But Bradley’s not paying attention anymore, looking right past Jake at the restaurant doors. “Or you could take me to dinner.”
“What?” Jake chokes.
“Why not? You get to keep your reservation at this way too expensive restaurant and I don’t have to cook.”
Jake opens his mouth, ready to further object to Bradley’s proposal. But then he considers the alternative: sitting at home, alone, probably drunk, dateless and hungry on the couch.
“Fine. But we’re splitting the bill.”
Bradley laughs, “So that’s why you got dumped. You’re a cheap date, Seresin.”
“Shut the fuck up, Bradshaw.” But there’s no bite behind it. Jake opens the door for Bradley, making a show of it, waving him inside the restaurant.
Bradley sees Jake balk when the full scale of the restaurant comes into view. It takes a moment because the lights have been dimmed - it’s all very romantic. The place is fucking bougie.
White tablecloths, wine glasses and roses on every table, champagne buckets on display. Bradley can practically see the dollar signs on the wine rack behind the bartender. Not only are the diners immaculately dressed but servers are either wearing black dresses and black ties.
“Fuck me, this place is fancy,” he hisses into Jake’s ear.
“Yeah, well. I was tryin’ to be romantic,” Jake hisses back, putting his hand against Bradley’s back and directing them towards the host’s stand.
The host smiles broadly at them, the false chivalry lost on her. “Good evening, gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?”
Biting back the urge to turn around and leave, Jake grits through his teeth, “Yeah. It’s under Seresin at 7pm.”
The hostess taps her tablet, once, twice and frowns. Jake hopes that somehow the reservation got lost, thrown out, forgotten about. “Ah, here you are, Mr. Seresin. Follow me this way, please!”
Following the hostess through the restaurant, Jake notices how busy the place is, which makes sense considering the holiday. Wall-to-wall with couples - there’s not an empty table in sight. He’s hopeful that they won’t stick out too much. The last thing that needs to happen is for the rest of the world to start acknowledging this new alternate dimension that Jake is suddenly living in that involves being on a date with Bradley Bradshaw.
“Here we are,” the hostess gestures to the table. It’s tucked away in the back corner, out of the eye line of most of the other diners. Thank God for small miracles.
“Thank you.” Bradley smiles sincerely at the hostess, taking his seat. Jake hums in acknowledgement, wishing he was anywhere else.
“Your server, Jenny, will be right over! Thanks for joining us tonight!” She sets down a small black sheet of paper, “These are the drink specials. Let Jenny know if you have any questions!”
The hostess disappears into the crowded restaurant leaving them alone. It’s going to be a long couple of hours.
“Christ,” Jake groans. He picks up the drink menu and immediately flips to the hard alcohol section. But he hardly has a chance to look when the menu is snatched away from him. “Hey!”
Jake tries to reach across the table to take the menu back, but Bradley’s got a firm grip. He’s smirking at Jake. Because of course Bradley finds this hilarious. “Can you at least pretend to like me? It’s Valentine's Day. ”
Jake rolls his eyes, “Oh, sorry about my bad mood, Bradshaw. It’s not like I just got dumped or anything.”
“Exactly. You should be grateful.” Bradley leans in slightly towards Jake and puts a hand over his. He’s teasing him, Jake knows it, and he tries desperately to keep his composure.
(Jake absolutely does not feel the air leave his lungs at the feeling of Bradley’s hands on him. Definitely not. No way.)
There’s no time to respond because Jenny materializes at their table, notepad in hand. She’s tiny, no taller than five feet. But despite her small demeanor she quickly takes charge of the table. “I’m Jenny. I’ll be your server tonight! Have you two gentlemen had time to look over the drink menu? Any questions?”
Bradley throws a lopsided grin at Jake. “You first.”
Jake smiles sweetly at the server, chewing his lip a moment. “I’ll get an old fashioned, please.”
“And I’ll get the same,” Bradley responds, handing Jenny the drink menu.
“Wonderful. Here are the dinner menus - I’ll be back with your drinks in a moment!” She falters for a second before adding with a wink. “And happy anniversary, by the way!”
“Anniversary?” Bradley mouths as Jenny practically skips away.
Jake sighs and leans back in his chair. He’d forgotten he’d told the restaurant that it was also his anniversary. (His hand is still trapped under Bradley’s and he’s trying his best to ignore how normal, how natural it feels). “Yes. It is… was our four month anniversary today.”
“Shit. I hope she at least told you to your face.”
“He.” Jake corrects. “And no, Mike called to tell me just as I arrived at the restaurant.”
“That sucks.”
Jake shrugs and pulls his hand out from under Bradley’s. He rubs his hands over his face a moment before speaking. “He said some bullshit about wanting different things from the relationship.”
“Oh?” Bradley crosses his arms and waits for Jake to elaborate.
But there’s no time because Jenny appears again, this time with a platter in hand and two drinks. “Two old fashioneds…” She places the drinks down on the table and Jake immediately takes a large sip of his, enjoying the feel of the alcohol burning down his throat. It’s going to be a long night.
“I’ll be back in a moment to take your food orders!” Jenny chirps, bouncing over to the table next to theirs.
Bradley winces as he takes the first sip of his drink and Jake laughs, noticing him. “What’s with the old fashioned? I’ve literally never seen you drink anything other than beer.”
“I don’t know,” Bradley sputters into the rim of the glass, “It just seemed like the classy thing to do, since you ordered one!”
“Come on, you don’t have to drink it. Order something different.” Jake takes the drink from Bradley and pours the contents into his own glass.
Bradley laughs and opens the dinner menu, but his smile drops as soon as he scans the first options. Morel risotto… langoustine ravioli… cassoulet with white asparagus, and steaks that cost nearly as much as six weeks worth of groceries. “Holy shit.”
Jake rolls his eyes, flipping open his own menu. “Not in Kansas anymore?”
“I don’t even know what half this shit is, princess .”
Jake blushes at the nickname. He knows Bradley’s making fun of him for his restaurant choice, but damn - if that doesn’t stir something inside him.
“You don’t know what steak is?”
Bradley huffs at Jake. “I know what steak is… but this isn’t steak. Butter emulsion and peppercorns?"
Jake laughs and leans over the table to point at the top of Bradley’s menu. “Order this. You’ll like it, based on what I’ve seen you demolish at The Hard Deck.”
“Are you trying to make fun of me?”
Shaking his head, Jake taps the menu again. “Coq au vin means rooster in wine, sweetheart . It won’t kill you. It’s chicken.”
Bradley sighs again and runs a hand through his hair. “Whatever you say, Jake.”
“So we’re on a first name basis now?”
“Seems appropriate since you’re wining and dining me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Actually you’re the one who should be wining and dining me since I saved your life. Shot down that enemy bandit for you.”
The ever so punctual Jenny appears at their tableside again, notepad in hand. She turns to Bradley first. “Have we decided on dinner?”
He opens his mouth, “Uh…”
Jake cuts in smiling brightly at Jenny, “Yeah. I’ll get the mushroom risotto and he’ll have the coq au vin.”
Jenny returns Jake’s warm smile. “Perfect. And to drink? Another old fashioned?” She points her pen towards Bradley’s empty glass.
“What do you have for wine?” Jake cuts in before Bradley can say anything, lest he agree to another old fashioned.
“Red or white?” Jenny asks, flipping to the next page in her notebook.
Jake looks at Bradley and he just shrugs, “Anything.”
“Well, for the risotto I can recommend a lovely glass of our house white and we have some reds that pair very nicely with the coq au vin.”
“We’ll take a bottle of red… I think I saw you have a Cotes du Rhone?” Jake turns his head in the direction of the bar.
“We sure do, good eye! Marc will be over with the wine shortly.” Jenny flips her notebook shut and takes Bradley’s empty glass.
“Marc?” Bradley asks, watching Jenny disappear into the restaurant again.
“Probably the sommelier,” Jake says, finishing the remains of his and Bradley’s old fashioned.
“I am definitely not in Kansas anymore,” Bradley responds, shifting in his seat and adjusting his tie again.
“Will you relax? You’ve been tense since we sat down.”
Bradley taps his fingers against the table, “I’ll be fine once I drink something that’s not rubbing alcohol.
“Well you’re in luck.” A thick French accent comes from behind them. “I’m Marc. Your sommelier for this evening. I have your wine here, the Cotes du Rhone.”
Marc places two glasses on the table and pours a little into each glass. Bradley watches Jake’s every move, stiff as a board. Carefully Jake puts the glass to his lips and tips some of the burgundy liquid back and Bradley does the same.
“It’s good!” Bradley blurts out, surprised.
Jake laughs and nods in agreement. “I had a feeling you’d like it.”
“Perfect!” Marc claps his hands together and places the bottle on the table. “Let Jenny know if you need anything else!”
And just like that they’re alone again.
Bradley swirls the wine in his glass, the liquid streaking against the sides.
“Nice legs,” Jake comments, tipping his own glass towards Bradley.
“What?” Bradley goes as red as the wine.
“The wine, Bradley. The lines on the side of the glass - the legs - means it’s good.”
“How do you know about this stuff anyway?”
Jake takes a long sip from his glass, “My parents love cooking. My mom tried a new Julia Child recipe every Sunday after church. Sometimes with good results and sometimes with bad results. But with the bad, it was pretty good since we always ended up at the Chinese place down the street.”
Bradley hums in response and they settle into a comfortable silence. Slowly, Bradley relaxes a little further, ditching his suit jacket and draping it over the back of the chair. Jake refills their wine glasses and Bradley’s the first to break the silence. “You’re handling being dumped on Valentine's Day remarkably well, by the way.”
Jake shoots Bradley a mock grimace. “The wine helps.”
The food arrives a few minutes later and Bradley looks apprehensively at Jake once Jenny’s left. Jake rolls his eyes and motions for Bradley to start eating.
“Holy shit,” Bradley says around a mouthful of food, “This is incredible.”
“I told you.” Jake shakes his head. “I’d never lead you astray, Bradshaw.”
They continue eating in silence, occasionally stopping to refill their wine glasses.
Their plates are nearly empty when Jenny stops by at their table again, a small plate in hand. She places it down on the table with a flourish. “Chef wanted me to send these out. They’re champagne flavored macarons.”
Written across the white dish is “Happy Anniversary” in melted chocolate. Jake turns a deep red and has to cough to hide his surprise.
“Thank you,” Bradley says, reaching across the table to grab Jake’s hand. “It’s been a wonderful day so far.”
This time Jake lets himself hold Bradley’s hand, running his thumb over the top of Bradley’s knuckles. Jenny beams at them. “You two are very cute. I’ll be back shortly to clear your plates, but take your time!”
Jake doesn’t let go of Bradley’s hand even after Jenny has left.
-
“You didn’t have to pay. I saw how much that bottle of wine cost, Jake.”
“Don’t worry about it, Bradley. I was going to spend the money anyway.”
As they step outside, they’re greeted with the same weather as before. But now it seems worse, the rain slapping violently against the awning of the restaurant. Jake pulls Bradley close to the doors, sparing them both from getting drenched.
Bradley takes his phone out of his jacket pocket and taps open the Uber app. Jake looks over his shoulder as he does so, close enough that he’s practically breathing into Bradley’s ear. It’s over an hour wait for a ride and the surge pricing puts a ten minute trip at almost sixty dollars.
Bradley jumps slightly at their close proximity, bumping against Jake. “Fuck, dude.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jake looks past Bradley and down the street. “I don’t live too far from here, if you want to wait at my place.”
“You live here? Downtown? How did I not know this.”
Jake rolls his eyes and scratches the back of his neck. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Now, are you coming or not?”
Before Bradley can protest, Jake steps out from under the awning onto the sidewalk. “Race you!” Jake yells back at Bradley, sprinting down the street.
By the time they get to Jake’s place a few blocks away, they’re both drenched and out of breath. Jake leans against the door to the building, laughter bubbling from his chest. “You’re too slow, Bradshaw.”
“You did have the home field advantage,” Bradley huffs, pushing open the door and walking into the lobby.
They’re the only ones in the lobby, so it doesn’t take long for the elevator to arrive. Jake scans his keycard,presses the button for the 10th floor, and Bradley whistles. “Penthouse?”
Jake laughs, leaning against the side of the elevator. “Not quite.”
While it’s not the penthouse but Bradley can already tell from the hallway that Jake's place is nice. Like,really nice. Everything about the building screams modern and new.
“This is me.” Jake unlocks the door and steps inside and Bradley follows him.
“Shit.” Bradley mutters under his breath. If he thought the hallway was nice, there was no preparing him for Jake’s apartment. There's a wall-to-wall window that opens to a large balcony.
And the view.
Bradley can basically see all of San Diego from Jake’s kitchen window.
The kitchen is spotless, save for a bowl of apples on the counter and a coffee cup perched at the edge of the sink. Jake puts a hand on Bradley’s chest, interrupting him from his observations.
“Wait here,” Jake instructs Bradley. He disappears around the corner and returns a couple minutes later wearing faded sweatpants and a t-shirt. He hands Bradley a towel and a change of clothes. “The bathroom is around the corner to the left.”
While Bradley is getting changed, Jake takes the champagne and pie out of the fridge. He plates two slices and adds extra whip cream to the top. He’s just popped the bottle of champagne when Bradley re-emerges from the bathroom.
“Nice outfit,” Jake observes, giving Bradley a once over.
Bradley tugs on the t-shirt, “Thanks. Considering you picked it out. What’s all this?”
“It was for Mike.” Jake smiles tightly. “And I can’t let it go to waste.”
“You really know how to woo a guy.” Bradley winks at Jake, taking a plate and champagne flute.
Jake grabs his own plate and glass and nudges Bradley towards the couch. They practically flop down on the couch, legs bumping together as they settle in the middle together.
“I don’t get it,” Bradley hums around a bite of pie. “Fancy dinner, homemade pie, champagne. Why’d the guy break up with you again?”
It’s a rhetorical question, Jake knows. But he answers anyway. “We hardly ever saw each other. And he told me I seemed distracted.”
“Distracted?”
“Like I was somewhere else. With someone else. I think his exact words were ‘you’re up in the clouds and I’m down here on earth.’”
Bradley snorts into his champagne glass and Jake begins talking again before he can stop himself. “He wasn’t wrong though.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah. I guess…” Jake clears his throat, “I was imagining myself with someone different. Someone more my type .”
“Like a woman?” Bradley puts down his glass, suddenly serious.
“Wha - no! Didn’t we establish this earlier - I’m gay Bradley, seriously -”
“I don’t know man! I thought men were your type and suddenly -”
Now it’s Jake’s turn to cut Bradley off. “I made a key lime pie for him and he doesn’t even like key lime!”
“So? And who doesn’t like key lime pie? It’s the best.”
“Exactly.” It comes out a little more pointed than Jake had meant it.
Bradley just stares at him, a mystified look fixed on his face and his shoulders slightly shrugged. It’s so quiet that Jake is sure Bradley can hear the rapid fire of his heartbeat. Jake grabs Bradley’s empty plate from him and puts it on the coffee table. It’s now or never.
“I was imagining myself with you, Bradley. Ever since I saw you walk in The Hard Deck again before the mission. I can’t shake it. I can’t shake you .”
Bradley’s mouth drops open, words stuck in his throat, “Oh.”
Jake shifts on the couch suddenly realizing how close they are, their knees glued together. Some fucking Valentine’s Day this has been. He’s been broken up with, gone on a romantic dinner date with Bradley fucking Bradshaw, and is now spilling his heart out to him on the couch. The pit in his stomach is growing and growing and he’s pretty sure it’s not because of the mushroom risotto he inhaled earlier.
“You know what? Forget I said anything.” Jake starts clearing the plates, grabbing Bradleys now-empty champagne flute. He brings them to the kitchen counter but Bradley’s right behind him, grabbing the dishes from Jake and setting it in the sink.
“Jake.” But Jake ignores him, grabbing the plates again. Bradley leans against the counter and crowds into Jake’s space. “ Jake ! You can’t just -” He grabs Jake’s hands and takes them in his own and flips Jake around so he’s got him almost pinned to the counter.
“Did you mean it?” Bradley asks, their noses nearly touching. He lets go of Jake’s hands and moves them to his waist. There’s no way out now.
Jake inhales sharply, trying to decide his next words. He can feel Bradley breathing heavily, his chest a solid weight against his own. His presence is all-consuming and Jake never wants to let go of him, ever. “I made your favorite dessert for someone else , Bradley. What do you think?”
“And do you think I agreed to go for dinner with you on Valentine’s Day just because?”
“Well technically -”
Bradley throws his head back and groans, “We can stand here and argue about this or -” Jake feels the hands against his waist move to gently cup his face, “you can stop talking for ten seconds to let me do this -”
Bradley’s leaning in to kiss him and Jake meets him halfway. It’s slow, gentle and completely unlike what Jake thought it would be. The kiss is sweet, like the key lime pie they ate earlier. His head is spinning and he’s not so sure if it’s just the combination of the champagne and sugar or because he’s kissing Bradley and Bradley is actually kissing him back.
“I’ve been waiting to do this for so long.” Bradley whispers against Jake’s cheek. And all Jake can do is hold Bradley tight against him, refusing to let go for even a moment. Jake knows what he must look like in the moment - pupils blown, every part of his face flush red.
Bradley seems to get it and shifts against Jake. Their thin sweatpants leave little to the imagination. (Jake has to bite his lip to stop himself from making an undignified sound this early into the evening. It’s ridiculous the effect the man has on him).
Jake presses his forehead against Bradley’s, their eyelashes brushing together. “God, please tell me you don’t have any other plans tonight.”
“Never even ordered it.” Bradley smirks, leaning in to kiss Jake again.