Work Text:
“Bradshaw, is that you?” He hears called out over the chaos of the bar as he walks into the Hard Deck.
Well hello, dear wifey he muses. He’d recognize and pick out that voice anywhere.
God, he’s missed her.
He winces at her tone. Shit. He’s in trouble if that greeting is any indication to go off of. He tried to call her as soon as he was stateside, but her phone went straight to voicemail. He bets she lost her charger. Again.
He marvels at knowing that side of her that would surprise pretty much anyone who doesn’t live with her. Nat comes across as being totally organized and in control, but she’s lost more things than anyone he knows. It’s why he always travels with extras.
“This how I learn you’re stateside?“ she says with the Nat sass he’s come to love and expect. It’s one of the many things he adores about her. Don’t tell her though. A man needs to keep some secrets.
Although, anyone listening might catch a hint of a scorned lover in her seemingly innocent question. Better watch it honey, he thinks, or she’s going to give them away in the first 30 seconds.
“Ya, thought I’d surprise ya,” he plays it off, hoping against all hope he’s coming across as unaffected to their audience, but also toeing the line so it won’t land him in the doghouse even longer.
Nat turns to take a shot, the sexy pool shark she is, and he can’t help but admire her perfect backside. How she can make military issued khaki pants look like a Victoria’s Secrets ad is just one of her many superpowers. Bradley licks his lips and looks away hoping no one is catching his blatant perusal of one of his favorite assets on her.
“Oof.” Something hard jabs him. Okay. What. The. Hell. She’s pissed and damn, that hurt. Pool cue to the gut is a new one for her, too. Noted.
“Guess I surprised you back,” she quips with her trademark arched brow. Is it wrong that her sass turns him on more? Despite the new bruise he’ll be sporting and the lack of air he’s currently taking in? Yup. Worth it to see that sparkle start to ignite behind her eyes, one that dulls during their time apart.
Hunched over and trying to get his breath back, “Good to see you,” Rooster manages to get out. A.k.a., their code for I missed you when in public.
“Ya, you too,” she says in place of I missed you back.
“You know if you checked your phone you’d see you have a missed call and messages from me,” he leans down to whisper close to her ear as he squeezes her arm in the platonic PDA they’ve come to use in this charade.
“I couldn’t find my charger,” she mumbles back.
Called it. He knows his wife well.
“Again,” Rooster rolls his eyes playfully and chuckles. “Hun, you need to put an AirTag on that thing. I have an extra I can give you tonight.”
She nods her head as she makes her way over to line up her next shot and he sees more people to say a quick hello to.
Hell. This is the worst homecoming situation ever. It’s been months since he’s seen her and been able to feel her soft curves against his. This freaking charade is getting old. They need to talk, and stat. Resigning himself to a night of bullshit, he decides he needs a beer. Or six.
Rooster says hello to a few of his buddies and grabs his beer, but can’t help but make his way back over to Nat. He’s never been able to stay away from her, it’s like a magnetic force is always pulsing between them and drawing one back if they wander too far.
Just as he makes his way back over to her, he hears the start of the song “Slow Ride.” Okay, make that twelve beers and blackout drunk, he corrects.
Fuck. Of course. Hangman. Why not? Let’s throw one more thing into this mix of a miserable situation. He can’t kiss his wife hello the way his body so desperately needs and now he has to hear this blowhard talk himself up.
“Bradshaw as I live and breath.” Christ. Here we go.
“Hangman. You look, good,” Roster says with fake nicety. He knows this faux compliment will feed his ego and rile him up, but damn is it fun to wind him up and let him go. It’s a fun game Nat and him like to play.
“I am good Rooster. I’m very good,” Seresin shoots back as predicted. Rooster looks over at Nat silently communicating their mutual dislike of Hangman’s massive ego. She arches a brow as if to say you asked for it. It’s true he did, but now has regrets. He’s now realizing he’s not in the right headspace for this.
The three of them go way back to right out of flight school days. There’s no doubt that Hangman’s a great pilot, it’s just that he’s insufferably conceited about it. It’s like choking on an excessive amount of cheap cologne is how Nat describes it.
Hangman makes some crack about being the obvious team leader choice, and Rooster can’t help but snarl back at his high-handedness. Enough is enough with this guy. It’s been a long travel day and he can’t be with his wife the way he wants. Rooster snaps.
“Hangman, the only place you’ll be leading anyone is into an early grave.” He hears the snickers from the others gathered for the show. Same old shit. Rooster vs. Hangman.
He see’s Phoenix give Hangman the side eye, preparing to jump in if needed. God love her, she’s always got Rooster’s back. If there wasn’t an audience right now he’d show her exactly what he thinks of her loyalty. And spoiler alert, it ain’t PG kids.
Hangman doesn’t like being one upped and retaliates. He drones on about Rooster being prime on his perch and going slow. Hence the song. So. fucking. hysterical. Honestly, he doesn’t care. It’s a tired argument. Rooster does calculate risk and take the more conservative approach at times. He has a lot to live for and she’s standing to his left. But Seresin doesn’t know that and it takes everything in Rooster not to say it to shut him up and see his smug face fall.
Besides. He’s seen what happens when a pilot is reckless. His shattered family is living proof. His mom. Himself. Maverick. They are all casualties of reckless decisions and tragic accidents, and coming back to TOPGUN is the biggest reminder of that.
Maverick. Now there’s a name he hasn’t thought of recently. Lies he hears whispered in his head.
Not being able to take another minute of this song or Seresin the ass clown, Rooster walks away to his happy place, making sure to unplug the jukebox as he passes. He sits down on the bench and tickles the keys secretly calling to his favorite sidekick. He counts in his head, 5,4,3,2, and he feels her brush up behind him, bringing a few of the guys with her. Bradley looks up and sends her a smile as she adoringly looks back at him. This. This is what he needs. All he needs. Nat by his side, and blinding him with her smile as an added bonus. He starts.
You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain
Too much love drives a man insane
You broke my will, oh what a thrill
Goodness gracious great balls of fire
He hears the whole bar kick in. His nostalgic memory kicks in. It’s difficult to not think of his dad when he’s here. It’s the last living memory he has have him, and singing this song always feels right when he needs help when the ghosts get a little too close.
You kissed me baba, woo.....it feels good
Hold me baba, learn to let me love you like a lover should
Your fine, so kind
I'm a nervous world that your mine mine mine mine-ine
Coming back to the here and now, he hears Nat next to him singing her heart out. Her carefree and playful side always leaves him breathless. Part of the reason he does this little show is to coax this side of her out. She’d never admit it and blush the cutest shade of fiery red while punching his shoulder if he told her, but Nat radiates joy. She’s the light of his life, and he’d do anything to bask in it. Especially when things start to look a little dark, like coming back to this place. Hence, his need to put on a show even when he’s not necessarily a spotlight seeker. Contrary to the natural showman he appears to be.
During his favorite piano riff Nat fans herself like she’s hot. Yes honey. That makes two of them. Given the material, he can’t help but play right to her. In this moment he’s relieved he can hide behind the song but anyone with half a brain would be able to tell he’s singing a lot of the parts to her. He suspects Payback, Fanboy, and silent Bob (seriously, he thinks that dude sees and knows all) are picking up on the sexual tension. If only you knew boys, he smirks into the song.
Well kiss me baba, woo-oooooo....it feels good
Hold me baba
I want to love you like a lover should
Your fine, so kind
I got this world that your mine mine mine mine-ine
The second time when his favorite verse hits, he can’t help but be overtly obvious. A man only has so much self control, especially when his wife is the entrancing Natasha Trace Bradshaw. She looks heart-stoppingly beautiful in this moment singing along, laughing, and smiling ear to ear. Looking right at her over his aviators, he seriously can’t wait to tell the world that she’s his wife and she’s, “mine mine mine.” Soon please, he silently wishes.
He ends the song to an entire bar full of Rooster chants (minus Seresin and his cronies he assumes). Yet, there’s none louder than from his biggest cheerleader to his right, that sends him to his feet with a ridiculous dance. What can he say? Love makes a fool of us all. He sees her shaking her head and sends her a wink.
The bar quiets down and people start to disperse.
Nat hangs back, and they make their way over to a table as Rooster keeps looking around.
“Who are you looking for?” Nat asks.
“No one, but I felt like someone was watching me.”
She chuckles, “I think the whole bar was Bradley.”
“No, this felt different. I don’t know how to explain it,” he says.
Nat squeezes his hand under the table as the rest of the guys and Halo join them. They spend the next hour talking and catching up with friends. He hears bits and pieces of Nat grilling Bob and setting the stage for what he can see will be a great partnership. He decides he likes Bob, but Bob will come to know real quick that Rooster is going to watch him like a hawk. Not just anyone gets into the cockpit with his wife. Nat always rolls her eyes in annoyance when he does this, but there will be an understanding between him and her back-seater. Always.
The bar starts to thin out, and Rooster and Nat deliberately wait everyone out so they can steal a few moments alone. Rooster is growing inpatient.
Finally he hears, “Do you need a ride Phoenix?,” Payback asks.
“No, I’m good thanks. I’ll just catch a ride with Rooster. “
Payback and Fanboy make to leave but he sees Bob hang back staring between them. He gives a nod as if putting the pieces together, and giving the signal he won’t say a word. Son of a bitch. See. He was right, Bob sees and knows all. It’s always the quiets ones, but he can tell he’s a good dude. Rooster nods back.
Once everyone leaves, Rooster exhales and drops his shoulders. Nat puts her hand on his thigh under the table. “You hanging in there,” she asks with a squeeze that sends a jolt straight to his groin. Christ woman, you’re killing me he grumbles. Nat smiles at him sympathetically, knowing it’s not easy for him to come back here and oblivious to his growing problem.
“I’m ok,” he says. “Just wishing we could be alone.”
Nat turns to him and leans in close, “Take me to bed or lose me forever,” she smiles with soft twinkling eyes, knowing it’s one of his favorite stories to tell about his mom and dad. And clearly not as oblivious as he thought.
His heart explodes.
“Show me the way home, honey,” he says back with a crack in his voice and nothing but love for his girl.
Smiling and pulling her close as they walk out, he’s grateful to the heavens above she always knows what he needs. Her.