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Jake can’t sleep.
Neither can Bradley, which Jake knows even though they’re pointedly ignoring each other. He can hear Bradley shift on the bunk below him every few minutes, huffing out a frustrated breath as he does. Jake himself has been staring up at the ceiling for the past hour.
His heart hasn’t stopped racing since Maverick announced his team. That was hours ago, before Jake found he was Dagger Spare, before they reviewed the mission parameters, before he was told that he’d be sharing a bunk with Rooster.
He and Bradley are friendlier than their dynamic seems to suggest. But still, Jake wishes he was bunking with anyone else. When he pleaded with Bob to switch, Bob just snorted and said Rooster snores.
Jake knows Bradley snores. It’s never bothered him before. Years ago, Jake used to lull himself to sleep with the sounds of Bradley’s soft snores. He wishes that’s what he was hearing, instead of the anxious movements of the other pilot in the bunk below him.
They have to be on deck in 5 hours. Sleep, at this point, seems out of the question. Even without Bradley’s loud wakefulness, Jake knows he wouldn’t be able to settle into any kind of restful slumber.
“Hangman?” Bradley calls out quietly, like a question. Jake’s grateful for the breakup of the monotonous drudge of insomnia.
“Rooster,” Jake hums in response.
“I can’t sleep.”
“I figured,” Jake snorts. “Me neither,” he adds, commiserating.
“Do you,” Bradley starts and stops. He’s speaking quietly, voice almost meek. When he starts talking again, it’s like he’s speaking from the corner of his mouth. “Do you remember back in Norfolk, when I couldn’t sleep?”
Bradley doesn’t expand further, but Jake doesn’t need him to. He remembers how they passed most of their nights, which his leg thrown over Bradley’s hip and Bradley’s back plastered to his chest. Jake used to lay his hand across Bradley’s lower stomach and breath slowly until the other man’s heart stopped racing.
It was the best sleep Jake ever got.
“Don’t think there’s enough room for that in these bunks,” Jake says, but he’s already shifting his legs towards the ladder.
“Oh,” Bradley responds, voice small. “Yeah, sorry, you’re-”
He’s cut off by Jake throwing his body onto the bunk, knocking the air out of him. Bradley lets out an oof and then pokes at Jake until Jake’s pushed against the wall.
“Coulda warned a guy, asshole.” But there’s no bite in Bradley’s words, especially not as he lifts up onto one arm to let Jake settle on his back. He then drapes himself over Jake, their chests pressed together and heads beside one another on the pillow.
They’re both shirtless, and neither of them is under the covers. It’s brutally hot in the room, and Jake’s skin is sticky with sweat. It’s only getting hotter with Bradley on top of him, but he already feels calmer.
Bradley’s leg rests between Jake’s. Their hips are lined up, and Jake can feel the soft cotton of Bradley’s boxers waistline against his belly button. There’s the familiar simmer or want that always buzzes under his skin with Bradley this close, but Jake’s not too concerned about it. He’s mostly exhausted and otherwise anxious, and right now, he’s content to let Bradley scratch at his scalp as he runs a hand up and down Bradley’s back.
Jake feels…awkward. He’s wrong-footed, scrambling for a hold on what’s happening. He always has been when it comes to Bradley.
Bradley’s always harsher than Jake expects and more defensive than he knows how to deal with. It’s far from the light, teasing dynamic they had when they first met. The one that led them to falling into bed together. When they parted, Jake thought it was amicable. Then, the next time he saw Bradley, the other pilot led with knives.
“I know you think I’m a bad pilot, but I’ll bring them home. I promise,” Bradley suddenly says, somewhat muffled by the pillow he’s turned his head into. Jake turns and stares at the back of Bradley’s head.
Jake’s fingers flex in the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck. His breath catches in his throat.
“I don’t think that,” he insists. “I’ve never thought that. Why would you ever believe I thought that?”
“Seriously?” Bradley asks, incredulous. “That’s been like your whole thing since we met.”
“It’s not,” Jake starts, frustrated at the turn of events. “I wouldn’t tease you like that if I didn’t respect you. I think you’re a great pilot. I always have.”
“Then why do you have to act like such an asshole?” There’s an edge of desperation in Bradley’s voice. Like he’s trying as hard as he can to understand.
“Because…you always are first,” Jake offers, shrugging. It’s the truth, as lame as it may be.
“I think I have the right to be a dick to the person who broke my heart,” is Bradley’s abrupt response.
Jake’s hand stills over Bradley’s back. He hears Bradley suck in a breath, like he just realized what he said. Their hearts thunder rapid fire against each other, trading beats back and forth.
“What,” is all Jake can say. He wishes so badly that he could see Bradley’s face right now. But it’s turned on the pillow next to Jake’s. Besides, it’s too dark for Jake to make out any details anyway.
Bradley squirms on top of him. Briefly afraid that he’s going to get up and dart to the top bunk, Jake tightens his arm around Bradley’s waist to keep him in place.
“Forget it,” Bradley huffs out. He shifts minutely to the side, as if it separates them on the twin bed anymore.
“Bradley, what are you talking about?” Jake asks, genuinely confused.
Bradley laughs bitterly. “C’mon, I know you can be testy, but I never thought you were outright cruel.”
Their relationship was barely a relationship. Two people fucking and flying, teasing and competing. Like empty calories. Straight to the id and nothing that lasts.
Jake remembers the first time he saw Bradley, truly saw him. Not Rooster, cautious up in the air and brash down on the ground. Not the man who plays piano tunes for a whole bar and lies whenever anyone asks about his family. But Bradley.
They’d been stationed together for a couple of months. Of everyone on base, Rooster was the only pilot who could ever come close to competing with Jake, both on the ground and in the air. It excited and aggravated Jake all the same. It had been a while since there was anyone who could come near challenging him. It made him feel alive. And the fact that Rooster seemingly couldn’t be bothered with Hangman’s attempts to push their rivalry further only had him more intrigued by the other pilot.
Jake always thought he was the master of putting on a front, but Bradley Bradshaw looked like he wanted to give Jake a run for his money.
Falling into bed together had been natural. One barb too far over the line, and Bradley had Jake pinned to the wall and his mustache scratching into the delicate skin of his collarbone. Jake had always been a fan of sex, and he’d always been an even bigger fan of sex with insanely hot people who may or may not hate him.
It was easy, and fun, to roll around in bed through the incredibly oppressive heat of the Virginia summer. Amazing stress relief with someone Jake was outrageously compatible with. He had never considered that Bradley viewed it as anything more than what it was: a bit of temporary fun while they were stationed together.
“Is this about Norfolk?” Jake asks, though he knows the answer.
“What the fuck else would it be about?” Bradley sounds huffy, like he would rather be doing anything else but having this conversation. Jake knows he should tread delicately because, apparently, he broke Bradley’s heart. But he’s still struggling to wrap his mind around the whole thing.
“I didn’t know it was that real for you,” Jake says honestly. Bradley still won’t look at him.
“Of course, it was real to me. You were everything to me.”
“You don’t, you didn’t do relationships,” Jake insists. “That’s what everyone told me. Love ‘em and leave ‘em, the Bradshaw why. I just assumed…”
“What? That I was spending every night with you, and it didn’t mean anything?” His voice has raised somewhat, most likely in anger.
“Well, yeah,” Jake answers honestly. “I never got too attached.”
“I remember when you broke up with me; you said, ‘it’s been fun.’ That’s when I realized that the entire time we were together, we might as well have been on different planets. I was falling in love, and you were fucking your hot rival.”
“Calling yourself hot?” Jake can’t help but tease. The conversation is slipping so far out of his grasp that he needs something to cling to.
“Don’t joke,” Bradley pleads quietly. “Just. Everything has always been one big joke. Please don’t joke about this.”
“Sorry,” Jake apologizes quickly. “I’m sorry for not...taking you seriously. Then or now.”
Bradley laughs, and it sounds wet. Jake desperately wishes he’d turn his head so Jake could see him. “Yeah, thanks,” Bradley responds sardonically.
The truth, if Jake really wanted to be honest with himself (and what better time to be honest than four hours before one of them could die), is that he knew that what they were doing back then meant more than just two rivals pushing at each other’s rough edges. The game they played, the back and forth of teasing barbs and testing pushes, was mostly in good fun. Rivals at work and bedfellows in their free time. It slowly morphed into a friendship, which would have been impossible to avoid with the amount of time they spent together.
But Bradley had a reputation. Phoenix had actually been the one to tell Jake about it, one night when they were all tits over ass drunk at some bar.
It was before they had started sleeping together. Early in their acquaintance, when Jake still didn’t know what, exactly, to make of the handsome man with a mustache and a big personality who sometimes had the saddest eyes he’s ever seen. Honestly, Jake still doesn’t quite know what to make of Bradley.
Bradley was dancing with some blonde girl, their hips moving together perfectly in sync. He had a hand splayed across her lower stomach and his mouth in the crook of her neck. Jake couldn’t see Bradley’s expression, but the girl looked pleased.
“He always does this,” Phoenix remarked, though she sounded more fond than anything else.
“What?” Jake asked absently, tearing his eyes away from the mesmerizing sway of Rooster’s hips.
“Finds the hottest person in the place and brings them home.” Her use of gender-neutral language didn’t go over Jake’s head, nor did her almost proud expression. “I’ve known him for three years, and I’ve never seen him go home with the same person twice.”
“Never?” That’s impressive, even by Jake Seresin's standards. A kind of commitment to bachelorhood that Jake sometimes considered but never fully engaged with.
“Nope,” Nat confirmed. “He’s a bit of a manwhore.” She winked at him and then joined the dance floor.
A few nights later, Bradley decided that Jake was the hottest person in the place. And then they slept together the next night, and the night after that, until Jake lost count and let himself get caught up in the fun of it.
Bradley never asked for anything more, never made reference to wanting it to be real. Jake was glad he didn’t. He didn’t want to be asked for something he wouldn’t be able to give. Bradley may have been the one with a reputation as a chronic bachelor, but Jake had his own fear of commitment and avoidance of consequences. It had seemed like the perfect situation.
The morning after their first time, Jake had woken up before Bradley. It was early, and they forgot to shut the curtains before going to bed the night before. He woke up to blinding sunlight, casting the whole bedroom with a warm glow.
He blinked his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was Bradley, snoring softly, hair a mess and shirtless, with the chain of his dog tags glinting in the sunlight.
Looking at Bradley, in the soft morning light, with a kind of peace written across his face that he rarely has while awake, Jake remembers thinking I could love this man. And then he remembers thinking I can never let myself love this man.
So he never let himself get too attached. He would take hours to respond to a text or blow off Bradley when he asked to hang out too often. And when they separated, Jake felt almost nothing. Maybe a twinge of regret. But years passed, and he rarely thought of the other pilot unless they were in the same room.
He had assumed it was the same for Bradley.
“I’m such a fucking asshole,” Jake says, mostly to himself. He hears Bradley snort.
“This is what finally got you to realize it?”
“Bradley, I really am sorry,” Jake insists. “I should have paid more attention to you.”
Bradley finally turns his head so that he’s facing Jake. They’re nose to nose, and Jake can see that Bradley’s face is wet.
“I probably should have been more honest with you,” he says, and Jake wants to push back. But Bradley continues before he can. “We both made mistakes.”
Jake searches Bradley’s face, looking for anything he can read into. It’s too dark to make much out, but Bradley has a sad smile and wide eyes. Almost wistful.
“When you get back,” Jake starts cautiously. “I mean, I know I’m asking for something I don’t deserve, but when you get back, do you think, maybe, we could talk? I don’t want to leave it like this.”
Bradley’s silent for a long moment, and Jake’s breath starts to quicken.
“If you don’t wanna leave it like this, we should talk now,” is what he eventually says, making Jake’s stomach roll.
“Don’t say that,” Jake says firmly. “We can talk when you get back.”
“When I get back,” Bradley repeats, and Jake tries to ignore the doubt he hears in Bradley’s voice.
-
Sitting in his jet, waiting for any news and not allowing himself to think about the possibility that Bradley won’t come back, Jake starts replaying some scenes from Norfolk in a new light. Bradley bringing him coffee every morning. Bradley making him dinner when he had a late hop and came home too exhausted to cook. The weekend trip they took to D.C. in August, when they sweat through everything they owned and held hands down the National Mall.
He feels like a fucking idiot for missing it. For missing the way Bradley would look at him, brown eyes soft and open.
He thought once that he could fall in love with Bradley. Jake’s pretty sure that still holds true.
-
They won’t let him see Rooster for a full day. Almost immediately after he and Mav land, they’re both carted off to medical, and they’re all told there will be no visitors until the doctors finish their examinations.
The second Hondo tells the group that they’re accepting visitors, Jake makes a beeline for the med bay. He then spends ten minutes staring at the door, trying to gather his thoughts and muster the courage.
“Jake, I know you’re out there,” Bradley’s voice rings through the door, and Jake flushes.
“Right,” he mumbles to himself and then pushes through the door.
Bradley’s alone; the bed beside him is empty, though the sheets are rumpled. His arm is in a sling, and there’s a nasty scratch down his cheek that continues to his neck. Jake scans Bradley’s body, as if careful scrutinization will let him see through the gown and the blanket to know what’s broken.
“I’m fine,” Bradley says, snapping Jake’s attention back to his face. “Well, not fine,” he concedes when Jake shoots him a look. “Fractured collarbone, concussion, and a few bruised ribs. Oh, and they think maybe whiplash.”
Jake’s eyes grow wide as Bradley lists out his injuries. He stumbles his way towards the hard plastic chair, dropping into it and turning to Bradley.
“Jesus,” he says, and Bradley winces. “Where’s Mav?”
“As bad as I am, he’s apparently worse. He’s in surgery. He’ll be fine,” Bradley rushes to add when Jake must make a terrified face. “Just some internal bleeding or something.”
“God, Bradley, I really thought...” Jake can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but Bradley’s face is empathetic.
“I know. Me too.”
Jake reaches onto the bed and squeezes Bradley’s hand. There’s a bandage over the back of it, but the warmth and faint pulse are comforting.
“So, are you here to talk?” Bradley asks after a beat.
“We don’t have to, not now. I can just tell you the ridiculous ways everyone is celebrating the mission's success.”
Bradley smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, I want to. We should air it all out now. I’m tired of this game between us.”
“Me too,” Jake whispers in agreement. “I really am sorry for how things ended. I kept myself purposefully distant, and I assumed you did the same. I wish I had more from you, but it’s the truth.” He hopes it’s enough.
“I think I knew from the start that it was doomed,” Bradley starts. He flips his hand and grasps Jake’s, threading their fingers together. “You just seemed so above it all, and I’ve always had a hard time avoiding things I know will end in disaster. I think it’s in my blood.”
Jake cracks a smile at that. “What did you see our relationship as? If you don’t mind explaining. I just want to see us through your eyes.”
“I was hopelessly into you,” Bradley says easily, like it’s not a fact that still knocks Jake’s world off its axis. “It took one night, and I was all in. It wasn’t just the sex, which was incredible; it was everything. I wanted to know everything about you. I wanted to spend all my time together. So we did, and I just assumed it was a relationship.
“I would’ve followed you anywhere,” Bradley continues, almost brutally honest. “I kept waiting for you to ask me to request a transfer or something. In hindsight, it was pretty foolish of me. Just because I could hear your voice in silences, see you in everything I did, wanted to share everything with you. That didn’t mean you felt the same.”
“Bradley...” Jake trails off. He’s always had a hard time with blatant displays of emotion, and this one is cutting him right to the bone. “I wish you had said something. Anything. I would've...”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish because he can’t find the right words. Jake really doesn’t know what he would’ve done because he can’t honestly say he would’ve been all in if Bradley had just asked.
“What?” Bradley asks teasingly. “Found a way to blow us up faster?”
Jake laughs abruptly. He wasn’t expecting to laugh during this, but he should’ve known. Bradley always makes him laugh.
“I deserve that one,” he admits. “Maybe I would’ve. Or maybe I would’ve actually let myself fall in love with you.”
Bradley’s looking at him, eyes wide and open. He looks split open, like his heart is bleeding onto the floor. Jake desperately wants to hold Bradley’s face in his hands and tell him it’ll be okay.
“To be fair, we probably would’ve been a disaster back then,” Bradley concedes. “I couldn’t even tell you about Mav.”
“What about now?” Jake asks hesitantly.
“I’ll tell you about Mav now,” Bradley rolls his eyes.
“No, I meant,” Jake starts, smiling when he realizes Bradley is, too, messing with him. “Do you think we’d be a disaster now?”
“Maybe,” Bradley hedges. “Only one way to know.”
“Yeah?” Jake asks, breaking out into a grin. “So you’ll let me take you out sometime?”
“I’ll think about it.” Bradley smiles smugly at him, and Jake likes him so much.
“Just think about it?” Jake can’t help but push his luck. Give him an inch, and he’ll always take a mile.
“Maybe I need something to sweeten the deal.”
Bradley leans forwards, and Jake does, too. Their noses brush. Bradley’s warm breath fans out across Jake’s face, making him shiver.
“You drive a hard bargain,” Jake says under his breath, and then he leans incrementally forward to kiss Bradley.
He tastes like blood and sweat and antiseptic. It should be absolutely disgusting, but it makes Jake’s blood sing. He brings up the hand that’s not laced with Bradley’s to his cheek, cupping his jaw gently. He tilts Bradley’s chin up to deepen the kiss.
Bradley clutches at the material of his flight suit, pulling him in. Jake slides forward on the seat, his knees hitting the bed. He takes that as a sign to pull back, so reluctantly, he breaks the kiss.
They’re both breathing heavily for what was a pretty tame kiss. Bradley bats his eyes open, and Jake almost falls out of his seat at the expression in his eyes.
“How long are you in the cast?” Jake asks, voice husky. He blushes and clears his throat.
“Don’t know yet. A few weeks.”
Jake hums. “We can work with that. I’ll be gentle.”
Bradley smiles, like he already knows that Jake will actually be refusing to do anything that might hurt him over the next few weeks. “Sure, hotshot. Gotta take me on that date first.”
“I can grab some food from the mess,” Jake offers, smirking. “Have a nice hospital dinner date.”
“Romantic,” Bradley teases. “Really making a guy feel special.”
Jake’s smile drops, his eyes going wide. “Shit, sorry. You’re right; we should do something nice.”
“Jake, I’m just joking.”
“Still,” Jake insists. “I wanna do this right. Take you out for real, somewhere nice. Woo you.”
The fight leaves Bradley, his expression becoming almost sappy. “Okay, yeah. Woo me.”
Jake grins. He’s gonna woo the pants off Bradley Bradshaw.