Work Text:
A song to enrich the story : Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding
Temptation
.
.
.
Roos loves to observe and make notes. Quick and silent.
He lets himself infiltrate Mav’s kitchen while the owner is busy with his old Kawasaki bike. First, Rooster searches for the refrigerator next to the oven. He scans thoroughly and quite amazes with Mav’s personal eating habits. He sighs, a lot. Second, perhaps he will propose a one or two plans later and it needs to be discussed with Mav although he already considered it really won’t need Mav’s approval at all.
No navy pilots in this world might have reached beyond its maximum capacity in terms of body limitation except for Maverick. However, he always forgets he is not immune to aging. So, age will slow down everything in his body, including his digestive system. It gives Roos a moment to think.
He has a new important mission.
"I'll cook your meal from today onward."
Mav coughs hard as if he just inhales the ashes from the machine carburetor. "Care to explain what this is all about, Bradley?"
Everytime Mav calls him by his real name, Roos feels a little bit of tingling sensation below his belly. He clears his throat then, "I—I'll cook the daily meal for... you or us so you have a better nutrition balance, Mav."
Mav chuckles, "Oh so you think I'm part of that 'club' who needs... caregiver now, huh? Bradley, I'm fine, really. I've been like this for 40 years now and I'm still good. You don't have to do that for me. But if you want to come and cook for us then I'll be more than happy to accept the invitation."
"I insist, Mav."
Neither disapproval or disappointment come from Mav's lips. He just doesn't know how to cope with this new... environment. For the record, Mav has been living by himself for more than he knows, adding another person to tag along with him will change his super ordinary life in many ways, especially when he's doing it with Goose's son. Perhaps, it's good to fix their broken bond, slowly but surely.
"Fine. Where does this stubborness come from, by the way?"
"You. It's always been you, Mav."
It's hard not to grab the whorl of yellow curls on Roos' head and playfully stroke them like a shy Retriever. But, Mav does it anyway. "Then I'm looking forward to it."
Escapist
.
.
.
It's late past midnight when Roos finally has some free time for himself after a lot of training on air, dogfightings, and obviously sheer amounts of homework to finish.
Just because he successfully barged into the enemy's territory and blew up their uranium cave, doesn't mean that Admiral Beau became more soft. In contrast, he starts a new learning direction for the chosen members under Maverick's supervision. At first, it's all about Mav who needs to arrange his own lesson material in one big pile of paper. Mav, as always, grunts annoyingly. He's not that type of teacher, so Roos helps him to type down the technical aspects and scientific evidence reports to support all of Mav’s weird, bizarre and unusual teaching methods.
So, back to Roos. He's ready to sleep and turns off his bed lamp when he suddenly remembers he has to make a complete daily meal set for Mav. He takes out the paper and pencil from his bed drawer and starts to scribble down.
'Day one, umm, breakfast. Mav loves sausages. Sausages, yes, less salted and no preservation added. Homemade is better. I need to go to the groceries tomorrow then. Greenies, he said he is okay with any greens. Elderly—oops—tends to burp easily. Let's pick the veggies, then. Carrot, broccoli, check—tomatoes, yes. What else—“
His cell phone rings. Oh, he usually sleeps without having his phone on mode.
He reads the name.
Maverick.
"Mav?"
There's about one or two seconds gap before Roos hears the voice behind the phone. "Haven't you slept yet?"
"I just finished typing your teaching syllabus. I'm currently on my bed now but some matters just crossed my mind and I happened to make a list."
He hears Mav hums, “Isn’t it supposed to be the time where you’re already asleep?”
“Ah, have trouble sleeping. Cyclone and I talked just a while ago and he ordered black coffee for us. The caffeine really makes me stay awake now.”
“So does it mean it’s my fault that I have to keep you up until you finally feel sleepy?”
Mav chuckles, softly. “Just wanna hear you speaking, though.”
“Oh.”
There’s a little bit of awkwardness after the statement but Rooster accepts the compliment with a tint of blush on his cheeks.
"Um, you said you made a list. What kind of list? And, oh—sorry for making you do it all—I mean, well—"
Roos chuckles, "It's okay, Mav. Besides, I can also copy your style by memorizing it through the writings. I'm kind of a visual-type learner."
"Amazing. I'm neither that kind of person. I learn by doing them all."
"Muscle memory. That's your natural gift."
"Not applied for all things, I assume. Cooking—a disaster, everytime I try."
They both laugh. Roos has stopped scribbling down his menu plan. Dozed off a quite bit.
"Rooster. Thank you. Really. I—I wish whatever happens between us now will keep better. And, one more thing—"
Oh, it slides off from his hand. The pencil falls on the floor.
—I love you.
And the last thing Rooster hears is a long beat of off-call sound.
Insecurities
.
.
.
Amelia runs to where Mav tells her to go. To find the tap water.
She just bought the wrong snack and it's too spicy for her tongue to handle.
The kitchen, Mav said. Amelia already knows where it might be since she could hear the sound of sizzling hotpots on the stove and of course chopped off sound from pantry utensils. It's just she doesn't expect that a man does this all. The man also wears an apron.
"Erm, excuse me. Can I have some water?"
The cook turns his head to see the squeaking voice, asking for water. Rooster smiles warmly. "Ah, sure. But, may I know who are y—"
"Amelia! You can call me Amelia. And you are—“
"Roo—oh I mean Bradley. Are you... Pete's relative?"
Amelia chuckles, offering herself a seat while gulping the water to cool down her burning throat. "I'm the daughter of his friend."
"Friend..." Rooster mutters.
"Erm, excuse me if I'm too rude but I'm curious, who are you—erm bro?"
"You can call me Rooster. Just Rooster."
The girl raises her eyebrows, confused. "I thought you said your name was Bradley."
"Yes, that's my real name. But, my call sign is Rooster."
"No way, you are a pilot?! Oh my God, that's so cool, bro." Amelia exclaims in excitement. No one, especially a young girl, ever looks so surprised with the way he tells him what he's doing. That's a rare case. "My grandpa is also an ex admiral! He's too old and already retired, by the way."
"Oh, may I know your grandpa's name? Is he in the air force or navy?"
"Navy pilot! He's super old now. He even sometimes forgets my name. He calls me Leah then it changes into Maria or one day I heard him calling me Sue. That's so weird." Rooster laughs freely while stirs the chicken, "That smells good, Rooster. And oh my grandpa's name. He is Admiral Benjamin. Have you heard that name before?"
It stops time. The ticking clock feels going backward. Rooster heard that name slipped off from Mav's mouth, about a girl during his old time. He once dated this Admiral's daughter and instead of being given a blessing, he got a heartbreaking answer. Then, their relationship was postponed until time flew by.
"Roos—Rooster? Are you okay? You seem to be zoning out? Has... has my grandpa ever done some terrible things to you?"
Rooster clears his throat and turns off the stove. The stir fry chicken hasn't yet cooked or seasoned well. “No! Not at all. I think I kinda have heard the reputation beyond your grandpa's name. Admiral Benjamin was an extraordinary navy pilot, yeah."
"Really? That sounds like some lame excuse."
Rooster massages his temple to calm himself out. 'Be a man, Bradley. Don't be an annoying adult. It's you who selfishly decided to do all of these. So, just calm down. Shit.'
"Erm, I—“
"Amelia? Amelia, did you find the tap water yet? Oh—Rooster. I forgot you're in here too. Wow, that smells fantastic! My mouth is watering now. Come join us for lunch, Amelia."
It doesn't take much time for Rooster to get himself back. He welcomes Maverick's affectionate hair ruffles with small chuckles. Not knowing that a pair of eyes is watching intensely.
"I'm out. It seems like we also have—umm—a lunch with grandpa. Mum must forget that."
"Oh, okay. Erm— Amelia, please tell Penny that I will inform her sooner if my friend has the spare machine for your yacht rotor."
The girl winks. "Got it! Bye Mav. And you too, Rooster. Nice to talk to you. Hope we can chat a bit more."
When it's only them inside the kitchen, Rooster exhales for unknown reasons. Mav watches the demeanor in curiosity. "You okay?"
"Ah yes. I'm good, yeah."
Mav smirks, making a mess with Roos's hair again. "Know that you shouldn't doubt my feelings for you, Bradley. Kay?"
"Yes, Mav. I won't."
Celebration
.
.
.
Food is always Rooster's love language.
A few days after they celebrated the huge hit on their mission, Rooster appeared so early in the morning without empty-handed. He brought a cake–not a store bought–but a real homemade one.
Not only the fact that Rooster himself baked the cake surprised everyone but the way Hangman responded toward this side of Rooster left everyone in awe too. He ate the whole delicious cream and cake with tears. Telling everybody it reminded him of his Mom. The whole squad members stopped talking and a death eerie pause struck them all.
The silence was broken with Bob impulsively out of nowhere putting a cream on Hangman’s cheek.
“A revenge for always hanging us to dry.”
That day also became the day where Bob hit his rebellious phase in Top Gun academy. The cheerful laughter spread like a gas once again. Instead of running away from Hangman, Bob waited fearlessly for any after-effect of his sudden attack. He gulped, "What?"
"Oh Bob, baby."
At first, Hangman grinned mischievously.
Bob made two steps behind, "I'm not afraid of you, Hangman."
Coyote blew a low tune whistle. Fanboy took out his camera phone. Phoenix was nowhere to be seen, probably at the loo.
Two seconds after that, he pulled the younger pilot into his tight embrace and tickled him until Bob laughed hysterically. “You better prepare yourself to get revenge from my cream, baby." Hangman whispered against Bob's ear and grinned in victory as Bob hid his flustered face on his chest.
And they all knew something new about Hangman.
"What have I just missed? Why are you all so loud?" Phoenix came in, totally confused.
When Cyclone and Warlock entered the small party, none of the cakes were left to eat. So, Mav proposed to invite them privately to his house instead–a truce by letting the Admiral taste Rooster’s craft in the culinary world.
None of them realized it’s actually Pete Mitchell’s birthday.
Warlock came first. He brought a bottle of wine and a big bowl of salad as an appetizer. “My wife insisted.”
“Oh thank you very much, Warlock. Come in, please.”
Penny, Amelia and Rooster were in the kitchen. Busy with each of their tasks.
“It’s–well–it’s my very first time having my boss come to my house. They were usually too pissed off to even listen to me, ha ha.”
“So don’t do it tonight, Maverick. It’s your big night, right?”
“Who told you that?”
Mav let Warlock pick any chair in the living room. He put the wine bottle right beside the telly.
Warlock hummed, “Your files are right on top of my desk, Maverick. I believe that’s the most reliable source.”
“Oh yes, yes, yes. Oh my. Actually, it’s his idea–Bradley. And everybody is involved in some way. You know, I’m too old for this.”
“It has nothing to do with age, Maverick. It means you are loved, very much. That young Bradshaw just wanna show his affection. Am I wrong?”
Mav replied with a nervous laugh. Before he even embarrassed himself further, a bell ring caught his attention. “Oh, that must be Cyclone. I’ll be back.”
“I won’t go anywhere.”
The smell of appetizing supper that came from his own kitchen nearly made him bump his head on the door. Mav cleared his throat to get himself thinking straight back. He didn’t anticipate a crushing hug from a man who always looked so tense and grumpy all the time when he pulled the door's knob.
“Happy birthday, Maverick!”
Cyclone was not alone. He’s with his wife and twin sons.
“O-oh! Thanks, Admiral.” Cyclone’s wife greeted the birthday man and handed him a huge meat pie. “Oh my, no need to bother, Ma'am. I feel honored. Really.”
“We are not at work, Mr. Mitchell. My husband is not your Admiral tonight.” Cyclone’s wife argues while poking her husband’s arm.
That moment felt like a dream for Maverick. Everybody seemed to enjoy the party.
Perhaps, that’s another heaven under the sky, right at the land where he stepped on to. The small conversation ended when Amelia announced the dinner had been served at the dining table.
It started with a small prayer from Rooster who sat right beside Maverick. Penny lit the candle for dinner. They were all seated around an oval-shaped table with Cyclone sitting at the farthest spot from Mav. After a long ameen, the Admiral raises a toast for the birthday man. “Happy birthday, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. Your entire sacrifice, story and legend will remain alive across the generations. Your legacy will continue to tell that tale for eternity.” Cyclone stare directly at Rooster.
They accepted the toast altogether.
While everyone was busy with their dinner, Mav reached for Rooster’s hand under the table. The boy felt the gesture and replied with a smile that can only be described by the two of them. Mav whispered, “Thank you, Bradley. Thank you for showing me your world.”
He squeezed Rooster's hand three times under the table, remembering his mother's words telling him that it's another way of saying I love you.
“And I'm glad to share it with you. You gave my life a whole new meaning” he replied in a hush tone, returning the gesture—to Mav's surprise. “Happy birthday, Mav.”
—le fin.
No. That's just the beginning of everything.