Chapter Text
They’re all sitting around a booth in the Hard Deck when the topic of dating comes up.
“You?” Phoenix says in surprise. “ You need romance?”
Across the table, Jake pretends to take on haughty indignation. “Of course I do, Phoe. I’m a proper southern lady. I like to be wooed .”
Bradley, as is the new normal when around Jake, can’t stifle his laughter. It makes Jake grin at Bradley.
“I don’t know that anyone would call you proper,” Bradley teases, shoulder bumping into Jake’s.
Jake doesn’t let him have his personal space back, leaning so their shoulders stay pressed together. “That hurts, darlin’. I’ll have you know I like to be wined and dined as much as I like to do the wining and dining.”
“Oh this should be good,” Javy snorts, but Bradley ignores him. He simply puts his chin in his hand and looks at Jake expectantly. This brings them closer together, and Bradley is once again reminded of how stunning Jake’s features are, especially up close. Without all the hostility between them, there’s nothing to distract Bradley from how fucking pretty his friend is, and tonight’s no different. Jake is wearing a tight green t-shirt that looks downright delectable against golden-tanned skin and makes his eyes stand out.
“And how does the great Hangman woo his partners?” he presses, pushing the thoughts of pretty pink lips out of his mind and instead focusing on teasing Jake. Familiar territory and all.
“Extremely well, I’ll have you know,” Jake smirks. “Flowers, treats, perfectly tailored dates, the whole nine yards.”
“Sounds expensive and time consuming,” Bradley says without thinking. “Why not get straight to the point of what people want?”
“Why Bradshaw,” Payback grins, eyes slightly glassy from the tequila he and Fanboy keep sharing. The other pilot is a painful lightweight, hence why he rarely orders his own drinks. “You tellin’ us that you’re the kind of girl who puts out on the first date?”
“Might as well.” The words fall from his lips without warning. “Not normally a second one to wait for.”
And here, Bradley knows he’s had enough to drink. He doesn’t normally share intimate details. Graphic when pressed, yes, but never intimate. Despite his growing love for the new Dagger Squadron, he still isn’t comfortable waving his shit out for everyone to see. Phoenix and Jake tend to be the only people he’s comfortable enough giving details to. Mainly because he can be a little too self-deprecating, and it brings the stupid, pitying look that now graces all his friends’ faces.
“What do you mean?” Fritz asks, tipsy and confused. “You haven’t gone on second dates?”
“Just bein’ stupid, man,” Bradley brushes off. “Actually, I think I’m tired enough to turn in for the night. Anyone need a ride home?”
“I’ll tap out,” Jake cuts in before anyone else can. Yet another night of Jake in his passenger seat, hair ruffled by the open top of the Bronco and singing off-key to Bradley’s 'old ass music.' “You get the truck, I’ll close out our tabs.”
“You don’t need to-”
“Don’t give me that, you got Thursday’s round.”
“Y’all went out on Thursday without us?” Coyote pouts. “Rude.”
“We aren’t special anymore, Javy,” Phoenix exclaims dramatically. “We’ve been booted from best friend territory.”
“You both suck,” Bradley says, very maturely, but he squeezes Jake’s shoulder and stands up. “Meet you out front.”
It’s a familiar song and dance by now. Bradley heads out to get the Bronco and pulls it up to the entrance. Jake jogs down the front steps, devastatingly handsome, and forgoes opening the door to hop over the side. Bradley rolls his eyes. He ignores it, and Jake’s smug wink, as the blonde reaches into the backseat for one of the waters Bradley keeps stocked.
“Did you switch to Dasani water for me, Bradshaw?” Jake practically preens as he opens up a bottle.
“Got tired of you bitching about Aquafina.”
“Cause it’s shit, sweetheart.”
Bradley rolls his eyes as Jake starts up. The other man loves to talk, will talk about nothing in particular for hours if you get him started. Bradley is man enough to admit - to himself - that he loves listening to the cadence of Jake’s southern drawl filling his space. He’s spent so much time being alone in the last twelve years that Jake’s presence is like a balm on his soul. He brings noise and laughter and banter and Bradley wishes he’d seen it sooner. That his eagerness for Jake’s attention was something as simple as him wanting the other man to fit somewhere in his life and not knowing how to ask for it.
He’s so fucking lucky that Jake decided to be his friend.
He wasn’t expecting their relationship to evolve to this when they ended their rivalry for something better. After falling asleep in med bay during his post-mission check up, Bradley woke up from a nightmare of black smoke and Mav’s voice in his ear. When he sat up with a panicked gasp, it was to find Jake sitting at his side with a glass of water, offering a literal hand to hold and an escape plan. The bunks on the ship weren’t particularly luxurious, but it was better than the hospital-like setting of medical that made panic claw at Bradley’s throat. So, Jake snuck Bradley back to the bunk they shared with Bob and Coyote. He promised to stay up and watch out for him while he slept. It was that moment, Jake about to go back to his own bunk, that prompted Bradley to reach out and link their fingers together.
“All the stupid shit from the last ten years,” Bradley said sleepily. “It doesn’t matter anymore, right?”
“No, Roo,” Jake replied softly, squeezing Bradley’s hand. “It really doesn’t.”
Roughly six months later, despite the sweet moments of Jake taking care of him after the mission, Bradley is still surprised by the easy friendship between them. Jake frequently makes Bradley laugh, with his over-the-top defenses that Bradley now sees he doesn’t mean. Jake, for all his bravado, doesn’t actually think he’s god’s gift to earth. He just pretends like he’s hot shit enough that everyone kind of agrees, and isn’t above a quick jab intended to keep people five feet away at all times. Bradley doesn’t know what he did to deserve seeing past the sharp edges of Hangman, but he knows it’s a rare privilege, and one he doesn’t want to squander.
For instance, by pathetically confessing that he wants Jake in a confusing way he’s never wanted another person. In a way that crosses every line of friendship.
“You’re extra broody tonight,” Jake comments after they’ve been driving for a few minutes. His careful cadence draws Bradley out of his thoughts. “One of those nights where I just need to shut the fuck up?”
“No,” Bradley assures him, sparing a glance away from the road to see Jake’s self-deprecation written all over his face. “No, stop that, okay? It’s not about you talking too much. I just…I’m thinking.”
“About?”
“You?”
Surprise is echoed in Jake’s little “Oh ” that slips from his lips. Bradley cringes internally, but keeps his face set. “That was weird, right?”
“Nah,” Jake answers mildly. “I kinda like that I’m on the mind, B. I wouldn’t mind if you elaborated a bit, though.”
Don’t be a chicken, Bradshaw.
“I guess I think it’s cool that things changed after the mission,” Bradley presses on through the discomfort of sharing feelings and figuring out how much is too much . “And I’ve been thinking lately, about how I wonder if we were supposed to end up here. Mav and Ice always talked about how having someone as your wingman meant more than just trusting them in the air. I never really understood their relationship, and the way they went from rivals to best friends–”
“To the Navy’s best known lovers?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“Is it, Roo?”
They’re pulling into the parking lot in front of Jake’s building. Rooster puts the car in park and turns to where Jake is eyeing him from the passenger seat. He’s soft and open in the way he only ever is for Bradley, and it makes it difficult to resist reaching for his hand.
So Bradley doesn’t resist.
Jake’s hand twitches in his, but it feels good. Natural. The blonde leans forward a bit and tucks his free hand under Bradley’s chin - so free with his touch these days - and clears his throat. “You sayin' you’re happy to have me as your wingman?”
“I am,” Bradley admits. Christ, but Jake’s eyes literally shine in the moonlight - what the fuck. “I keep thinking about how things are so different since I got over my own shit. Well, maybe not all the way over, but you know what I mean. I got my head out of my ass about some stuff, you stopped trying to pick fights to hide behind, and here we are. With something really good, that I think I’ll be telling my own kids about. The way Mav and Ice tell me about their old days. I - uh. I really like having you around.”
“I like being around,” Jake promises. He looks between Bradley’s eyes like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. “What’s all this really about? I could buy that you’re just thankful for the power of friendship, but that doesn’t seem quite right. Like there’s something else promoting all this.”
Bradley huffs. “Maybe this is why I stayed away from you. You see too much shit, Hangman.”
“A blessing and a curse.” Jake drops the hand at Bradley’s chin but stays holding the other one. His thumb picks up a comforting sweep back and forth across Bradley’s knuckles. “You had us cut out pretty quick after all the relationship talk. Does it have anything to do with that?”
“Yeah.” Bradley doesn’t point out that Jake could have stayed, but chose to follow Bradley. There’s something poetic in there somewhere. He could think about how Jake always follows Bradley, even when he’s cowardly and cruel. Instead, his gaze drops to Jake’s hand. “Everyone likes to tease me ‘cause they think my bed’s a revolving door. And maybe it is a little bit, but it’s not like the people who sleep with me think its more than for one night. Relationships are hard, not even just romantic ones. And not hard as in work, but hard as in heart-breaking because everything goes to shit. People get hurt or they leave or—”
Bradley cuts himself off and works on counting to ten like his therapist taught him. He’s grateful Jake wrangled the information about coping mechanisms out of him one day, as he feels a comforting pressure at his nape. Jake squeezes the back of his neck with every breath, centering him until he gets to ten.
“But,” Bradley continues. “Something I’m working on in therapy is letting go of all these weird notions I have in my head about relationships and people. And I’m realizing that I fucked myself over, again. By taking what happened with Mav and shutting myself off, I didn’t get the chances you guys had.”
“But you’re opening yourself up now.” Jake tells him. “And if you want a relationship, you can have one. It’s okay for other people to see you, B. It doesn’t always mean you’re going to get hurt, and you deserve something real and good after all the shit you’ve gone through. You deserve to be…”
Bradley huffs out a laugh. “Wooed?”
“Wooed,” Jake repeats, but he isn’t laughing. “Obviously, you don’t have to be in a relationship if you don’t want one, but…don’t cut yourself off from letting people see you because you could find something so good if you let yourself be loved.”
“Like you do?”
“You think I let people see me?” Jake teases quietly. “C’mon, you know better than that. My carefully crafted walls are impenetrable.”
“God, you’re such a hypocrite,” Bradley murmurs fondly. Jake smiles at him, and his heart stutters in his chest - as per usual. “You know, when everyone was looking at me like I had three heads after you guys realized I’d never had a second date, I just wanted to get out. But then you came with me and didn’t let me sulk on my own. You’re always fucking there when I need you, man.”
“Because Mav is right,” Jake says firmly. “Having a wingman is about more than being in the air. It’s your partner, someone who’s hands you place your life into without regret. To have that kind of trust, it’s gotta be about more than just the cockpit.”
Jake pauses.
“And for me, it’s a lot more.”
Bradley’s eyes snap back up to Jake’s gaze. They sit in silence for a long moment, one of Jake’s hands cradled in both of Bradley’s and his other still resting at the nape of his neck. Bradley is warm all over from the simple points of contact. He supposed Jake saying this should be a good sign, but all it does is make him nervous because now something is a possibility. Something just requires a little faith from Bradley, a little hope that if he hops off that stupid perch something good can happen–
“Night, Roo.” Jake sighs like he’s disappointed, squeezing his neck one last time. Bradley squints in confusion and looks up as Jake is pulling away and thinks Shit, missed the mark again.
Maybe it’s because it feels so goddamn typical for him. It’s just a Saturday night where he and the squad have some drinks, he and Jake go home, and Bradley falls into his bed alone and wishes Jake were laying beside him. Maybe it’s the words Jake whispered, his And for me, it’s a lot more. He aches for the comfort of Jake, the safety of someone who could very well be the best friend he ever has, and maybe that's what makes him finally get out of the Bronco and stop Jake from going anywhere.
“What’re you-”
Bradley cuts him off with a kiss. He cups Jake’s face in his hands and presses their lips together, firm but still hesitant and waiting. Jake reaches up to hold his hands against Bradley’s shoulders. Doesn’t push or pull, but rests them there and lets Bradley give him a gentle, closed mouth kiss.
“I like talking to you.” Bradley says stupidly, a teenager all over again. “Even when I don’t like talking to anyone else.”
Jake smiles against his lips and seems to come out of the kiss-induced stupor. “I like hearing what you have to say.”
And Jake dives back in. Bradley can’t stop the noise of surprise when Jake licks along the seam of his lips. He holds Jake’s hips in his hands, pulls the other man closer to feel the heat of his body. It’s so much better than he pictured, the full-body shudder at how right it is to feel Jake’s chest against his, a hand on his shoulder and the other twisting into his hair and scratching just right at the base of his neck. It sends static through his brain.
A kiss has never felt, tasted, this good.
“Hold on,” Jake says, using his hand in Bradley’s hair to pull him away for a second. Their eyes lock, and Bradley knows he must look confused. He feels completely frazzled, knows his hair is fucked and his face is unattractively flushed, but of course Jake Seresin barely has a hair out of place. “I’m not gonna invite you in, B.”
“Right.” Bradley clears his throat, starting to step back. “I’m sorry, I-.”
“Would you chill the fuck out, please?” Jake laughs. The sound is disarming, and Bradley lets himself be pulled in by his shirt collar. The blonde puts his arms over Bradley's shoulders and presses a kiss to his chin. “I want you. But I was serious. You deserve to have someone sweep you off your feet. Romance you. Woo you.”
Bradley snorts. “So, what? You're gonna buy me flowers and chocolates, Seresin?”
“Maybe, if you don’t quit bein’ a dick about it.” Jake shrugs. Where Bradley would expect that classic Hangman determination, he instead sees something sweet and open. Before getting to know the other man better, he wouldn’t have thought that sweet was the word for Jake, but there it is: eyes unguarded, a hand carding through the curls at the base of Bradley’s neck, and a soft lilt to the corners of his lips.
Bradley has to kiss him again. It’s a little desperate, maybe, but it makes Jake’s body rise up against his and Bradley doesn’t care if it comes across as weak. He just holds Jake close by the waist and licks into his mouth. It feels so good, like every nerve in his body is being lit up just because Jake, Jake, Jake . He wants more, he wants everything.
“I’m gonna go inside,” Jake murmurs against his lips, despite how they’re flush against one another and he isn’t pulling away. “I am.”
He bites at Bradley’s lower lip, prompting the other man to tighten his grip on his hips. “Remind me again why?”
“Cause we’re taking it slow and proper,” Jake reminds him. He lets his hands fall down the slope of Bradley’s shoulders and squeezes his biceps. “Dates. Holding hands. Maybe even a date where we hold hands.”
Bradley chuckles and ducks his face down into Jake’s neck. “Right. Romance.”
If Bradley goes home and immediately gets off to the memory of Jake’s lips on his, then that is his own goddamn business.