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Bradley's been cleared to go back to his rack, minor concussion, sprained ankle, bruised ribs and plenty of lacerations but nothing serious. He’s glad he has a bottom bunk so he doesn't need to try climbing the ladder with his ankle. Nothing may be life threatening; but everything hurts. Breathing. Moving. Head pounding. Eating and swallowing take too much effort. And now he can't sleep either. The fireball of the 5th Gen fighter appears behind his eyelids every time he tries.
The adrenaline and euphoria of surviving have long worn off and he knows he’s crashing. Phoenix has forced him to eat, watched silently as he’s taken some more painkillers. His roommate is missing, no doubt basking in the attention of accumulating another air-to-air kill and Mav is in the sickbay with an actual broken ankle and ribs. They haven’t managed to talk yet, but they will. They have time now, and he lies there and thinks about all the ways the conversation might go.
He must fall asleep, because he wakes up and feels slightly better. His head clearer and not pounding. The overhead light has been turned off but there is still the low-level lighting to ensure no one brains themselves while walking around. The he hears it, the tell-tale sound of flesh on flesh. It's muffled, but it's still easily distinguishable for what it is, which is someone jerking off. And not just someone. Jake. That’s the only other person that would be in the rack above him.
He opens his mouth wide so his breathing is as quiet as possible, ears straining to hear every little sound before realising he’s quickly going to have another problem. He’s getting hard. He groans quietly, barely audible but freezes when he hears a groan from the rack above him. Bradley bites his lip, body frozen as he stops to listen again. Yep. Definitely a moan, and one of pleasure. He’s got an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of how Jake sounds when he’s getting off and he definitely recognises it.
He doesn't need to imagine what it looks like, has seen Jake naked dozens of times before, but it's been a long time since he's seen Jake hard, his hand wrapped around his own cock as he jerks himself off. Does he think Bradley is asleep? Or is he doing it on purpose so Bradley hears him? Jake has to know he’s here. He would have climbed up to his bunk, Bradley hadn’t pulled his curtains shut… he sucks in a deep breath, realising he’s been holding his breath for too long. He hears a longer, lower moan and his cock jerks and he presses a hand to it, not sure if he’s willing it away or encouraging it.
“Fuck,” Bradley breathes, whisper quiet as he hears Jake moan again. He hopes Jake is too distracted to hear Bradley. He could feign sleep, he could jerk off, he could speak up and ask Jake what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, or he could ask Jake to come and sit on his rack and jerk himself off so Bradley can see him as well as hear him. Probably not the last one. Fuck. He can’t stop asking the question of whether Jake is doing it on purpose or not, and if he is, what should he read into it, if anything?
His cock is casting its own fucking vote, like Bradley has any say in the matter, and he’s been too nervous and stressed leading up to the mission to even get hard, so he isn’t overly surprised at all that his cock is now achingly hard just hearing Jake jerking off above him. Fuck. He thinks of Jake’s body being above him, moving against his, naked, cock hard and rubbing against him.
Another moan and he freezes, not sure if he made the sound or it was Jake. He closes his eyes and holds his breath again, hand pressing down on his cock hard as if it will somehow help. As he listens the slick-slick-slick sound gets faster and he swallows the tightness in his throat. God what he’d give to get his mouth on Jake’s cock right now, body pains be damned. Jake’s moans get louder, a little more erratic, like he definitely doesn’t care now if Bradley can hear him or not, which means he’s getting close. All his inhibitions fade away when he’s close to coming. Bradley remembers.
He realises he’s been stroking his own cock through his pants and he squeezes his eyes shut, desperately wants to know if Jake wants to be heard, wants Bradley to hear him. Does he think Bradley is still asleep? He would have been, when Jake got in and hopped into his rack, but he for sure as hell isn’t asleep now. He lets his hand rub at his cock a little more, can feel a damp spot forming from where he’s leaking precum and he bites his bottom lip and hums under his breath as quietly as he can to stop himself from moaning too loudly.
Jake’s moans drown him out and he can hear the exact moment Jake comes, a little gasp followed by the telltale low shuddery moan; then;
“Fuck. Bradley.”
The sound he makes sounds like a scream in the quiet of their room, not quite a gasping sob, but all bets are off, Jake said his name. He shoves his pants and underwear down, just enough to get his cock out and then he’s wrapping his fingers around it, stroking himself hard and fast, doesn’t need anything more than the knowledge that Jake is lying above him and just jerked himself off and said Bradley’s name as he came. It’s a rush all over again as he comes, and he knows he says Jake’s name, just has to hope it’s the once and not over and over like a prayer.
Jake is gone when he wakes again later, and he’s not altogether surprised he passed out after coming, although the mess he’d made and hadn’t managed to even clean-up had been embarrassing. They don’t talk about it, but he feels the weight of Jake’s gaze on him, savours it a little after going without it for so long. He watches him back, doesn’t even try and pretend he isn’t. Phoenix punches him in the arm a couple of times, rolls her eyes at him, but then gives him up as a lost cause. She’s always been smarter than him.
They get through the debrief and Bradley accepts the dressing down, knows it is far from over. Even if all things worked out for the best, he disobeyed a direct order, and that type of thing is… not great. He only has the fact that he has a perfect record before this standing for him, and the fact that it was his godfather who got shot down. Extenuating circumstances. That’s the argument he’s going to make. Mav had told him, while they were trudging through the snow, that they asked him if he’d have any issue with training Bradley. It had made him laugh. No one had shown him the same courtesy, but then again Mav is his superior officer, so he can’t have a problem with it.
Transport is organised for the next day, which means he has another night sharing a room with Jake. Who has been nothing but cool, calm and professional. So nothing like Jake normally is at all. Not with Bradley. He dithers and wonders whether he should lay in his rack and pretend to be asleep again, or lay there awake and see if Jake wants to talk. No. Jake has never done well when cornered. He prepares himself for bed, then lays there, reading the same page on his E-reader over and over, waiting for the door to open and Jake to be there.
He definitely dozes a little, the nearly imperceptible movement of the carrier and his injuries making him feel sleepier than usual. However when the door opens with it comes a burst of outside sound and he blinks his eyes open to find Jake looking at him.
“Bradshaw. Rooster.”
“Uh.”
Jake snorts at that, a small half-smile that almost looks sad on his face and Bradley wants to ask him what’s wrong, but they don’t do that anymore.
“Night Rooster.”
Then the main lights are being turned off and Jake is climbing up into the rack above him and Bradley’s breath catches in his throat. His cock is already half-hard, the sleeping and seeing Jake more than enough to get him going. He is so fucked.
“Rooster…”
“Yeah?” Bradley answers, tries not to blush at how his voice breaks. He’s had sex with Jake, multiple times, for years. Talking to him in the dark shouldn’t be this difficult.
“Touch yourself for me…”
Bradley slams his eyes closed, knows he’s definitely blushing, but he’s also touching himself through his pants, breath catching and he moans. It’s followed by a moan from Jake and his entire body is suddenly hyperaware of just how close they are.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m touching myself…”
“You have such a gorgeous cock Bradley…”
“Oh…” He hears the sound of rustling, certain that Jake is no doubt getting changed, or maybe even naked, in the rack above him. He groans as he palms his dick. “Jake…”
“You… would be a shame if you died. Don’t want you to die.”
“Don’t want to die either,” Bradley offers nonsensically, feels it’s probably obvious. “Thanks for saving me.”
“Just… doing my job. But –” Jake pauses, his voice is low and kind of out of breath, Bradley can hear the same sound as yesterday. Slick-slick-slick.
“But?”
“I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life. Need…”
“What do you need?”
“Need to hear that you’re alive.”
“Oh. Okay… I can manage that…” Bradley’s hand moves faster, legs shaking and staring at the rack above him in case he suddenly develops x-ray vision and can see Jake above him. “You need to touch yourself too. Sound so pretty when you get all hot and bothered… come on Jake.” The little high-pitched sound Jake makes has his cock jerking and he gasps and groans as he strokes his cock, more prepared this time with a rag and some wipes to clean up afterwards. The sounds of skin on skin is so clear, the movement and sound of his hand being echoed back to him from above.
“Fuck Bradley.”
“Jake… I’m close. So fucking close,” he admits, his hand on his cock almost a blur. As much as he might want the moment to last, to be drawn out, he’s also worried Jake might change his mind any moment, leave him completely allow. “Oh fuck… Jake.” His moan is loud and drawn out, shuddery with how intense it feels. He can hear Jake’s breathing getting shorter, his strokes on his cock faster.
“You going to come for me Jake?”
“Oh fuck off…” Jake says, but it’s breathless and tinged with some humour.
“Come on, want you to come for me… make a mess for me.”
“Why are you so fucking unhinged,” Jake says breathlessly and Bradley is fairly certain that Jake doesn’t actually expect an answer. “Fuck…” Jake’s breath is coming in faster and faster pants, the little gasp followed by the telltale low shuddery moan.
“Come on, want you to come for me. Want you to come down here and come on me…”
“Fuck.”
“Jake,” Bradley says, and he forces himself to hold back some other words that were trying to trip their way out of his mouth. Words he knows Jake doesn’t want to hear. Not now, not ever. Then Jake is coming, a high pitched whine adding to the little gasp and moan and god he wishes he could fuck Jake and find out exactly what was needed to make that little whine sound again. He’s coming as well, letting go and enjoying the waves of pleasure as they wash through him. He lays there as he comes down, feeling increasingly sleepy and relaxed, swipes at the come on his stomach and t-shirt with barely there coordination.
“Night Rooster. Sleep well.”
“Mmm. You too Jake.”