Work Text:
Bob gels Hangman’s hair for him, every single morning they spend together. Sure, Jake can do it himself, but it’s not the same. Bob will have him sit on the toilet lid in the bathroom of their shared abode and hold still. Bob dips his fingers in the tub of gel to get just enough, and will carefully coif Jake’s hair into place. Jake relaxes and closes his eyes while Bob goes to work. Even though Jake keeps his eyes closed, Bob will still use one hand to protect Jake’s eyes while he adds a touch of hairspray to keep his work in place all day. Jake wouldn’t trade those morning moments for the world.
One morning, Bob has an early meeting with Cyclone and Warlock—he wouldn’t tell Jake what it’s about, but Jake is pretty sure Bob will be getting a promotion to Lieutenant Commander soon. Jake also wouldn’t be surprised if Bob is asked to teach at Top Gun sometime soon—he really is the best WSO the Navy has right now, and he’s definitely tired of Jake reminding him of this. Not that that will stop Jake.
So Jake is stuck doing his own hair this morning. He stands in the bathroom, frowning at his reflection as he tries to get his hair to cooperate. He can’t seem to figure out why he can’t get it—he’d been doing his hair just fine for years before he met Bob, but now, a year of Bob doing it for him every morning has him completely spoiled. It’s like he’s forgotten altogether how to do it. And normally, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loves that routine of theirs, and he loves the way Bob gently tilts his chin up after he finishes to press a slow, gentle kiss to Jake’s lips as if rewarding him for being so good for him.
Jake gives up after about twenty minutes—he can’t get the gel to cooperate. Bob has magic hands, and Jake’s just aren’t cutting it. Jake ducks his head under the faucet to rinse out the gel nightmare that is his several attempts to get his hair looking even halfway decent. Whatever. Jake’s pretty sure that Bob keeps a travel tube of gel in his locker on base so Bob can fix it sometime later today. Until then, Jake is just going to have to rock the fluff as best he can. Plus, any longer, and he’s going to be late to work.
Jake grabs the rest of his stuff and heads out the door. He wonders how long Bob’s meeting is going to go, and if Bob will be able to fix it before Rooster says something. He pulls up to base, parks, and heads to the locker room. Jake shoots off a quick text to Bob as he walks.
Jake:
Still in your meeting?
Baby:
Yeah. Apparently, when Cyclone isn’t giving Maverick cold glares, he can talk forever. I’m still not even sure what this meeting is supposed to be about.
Jake:
I’m telling you! You’re getting promoted💯
Baby:
I doubt it. Also, did you manage to do your hair ok this morning?
Jake:
….no
Baby:
lol I figured. I have a tube of gel in my locker so I can do it for you if I get out of this meeting by lunch. I don’t have any hairspray though so you’re going to have to be gentle with it if you want it to really stay.
Jake:
Ever the Boy Scout 😉 what else do you have in your locker, handsome?
Baby:
Jake….no
Jake:
:((((
Baby:
Be good. Don’t rile Rooster up too much. I’ll see you soon. Love you ❤️
Jake:
No promises. Love you too ❤️
Jake is smiling goofily at his phone as he walks into the locker room, not paying attention to much else. He’s almost 100% sure that Bob has lube in his locker, even though he’s refused Jake’s multiple suggestions of some locker room shenanigans. Jake thinks it would be a fun throwback—he’s sure Maverick and Iceman got up to some stuff in the locker room, and who’s Jake to deny tradition? He is this generation’s Maverick, after all (not that any of the other pilots would agree with him. Bob just smiles but never actually agrees either…traitor).
In the midst of being caught up in his phone, he almost walks into Rooster, who’s standing near the doorway for some reason that Jake doesn’t care enough to learn about.
“Woah, watch where you’re going, Bagman,” Rooster says, doing his best to look down at Jake even though they’re both the same height.
“Keeping an eye on me, Rooster? Careful, you don’t want me to think you’ve got a crush on me,” Jake teases.
That definitely ruffles Rooster’s feathers. “As if. And what the hell is going on with your hair this morning? Forget that you’re a fulltime douchebag? You’re hardly looking the part today.”
Jake knows Rooster is mostly joking, but he’s still a bit bitter that Bob had his early morning meeting and so the only morning kiss he got was a quick peck as Bob went out the door.
“Maybe I’m trying something new,” Jake quips back. “It’s not easy being this devilishly handsome. Not that you would know about that.”
Rooster snorts. “Whatever, Bagman,” he says and then walks out the locker room door.
Jake shoots a glance towards Bob’s locker and wonders if he’ll be able to take a peek later today. Bob’s prepared for everything, and Jake has a feeling he’s wearing him down on the prospect of locker room sex. Jake then dresses himself and runs a hand through his hair self-consciously. He’s not used to the soft locks falling slightly forward. He’s not out of regulation, but he doesn’t quite feel like Hangman. He feels vulnerable, like just Jake today. He knows there’s nothing wrong with being just Jake—Bob tells him that it’s OK to be himself, to let go. He doesn’t have to be strong all the time. Bob makes him want to be Lieutenant Jake Floyd, but Jake’s not sure how ready they are to have that conversation.
He’s just going to have to do his best to be Hangman anyway.
He squares his shoulders and sets his jaw. He is Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin. The best of the best. The pilot that saved Rooster and Maverick, the pilot with two confirmed kills, the best pilot.
He’s sure Bob would roll his eyes a little at his choice of affirmations, but he’d also be proud that Jake is doing them in the first place. Self-care and all that.
When he walks into the lounge, he keeps his head up and acts like nothing is different. No, he absolutely cannot see the blonde hairs falling forward at the top edge of his vision, why would you ask that?
Thankfully, it looks like none of the other aviators are actually going to say anything. Phoenix smirks when she gets a good look at him, and Javy raises an eyebrow. Javy is the only one who knows about Jake’s routine with Bob.
Javy sidles up to Jake and quietly asks him, “Is this related to why Bob isn’t here yet?”
Jake nods. “Morning meeting.”
Javy claps his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “That’s rough, buddy.”
Rooster is the next one to speak. “So, does anyone know where Bob is this morning? He’s usually one of the first people here.”
Jake bites his tongue. The others don’t know about him and Bob, and he’s not going to tell them without Bob’s permission.
Phoenix shrugs. “I think he has a meeting this morning. I saw his car in the parking lot already when I got here, so there’s no other reason why he wouldn’t be with us, getting ready for the next hop.”
Maverick, to their surprise, is standing in the doorway. “Bob’s wrapping up a meeting with Cyclone,” he explains. “I’m hoping Cyclone actually listened to me for once because I recommended him for a promotion and Top Gun.”
Jake grins. He was totally right. He’s so totally going to bring it up at dinner about how he was right and Bob was wrong. And maybe, if he pushes it enough, Bob just might show him how much of a brat he is being about it. Jake would like that.
Jake’s grin grows wider when he sees Bob appear in the doorway right behind Maverick, quietly saying “excuse me,” so the captain will let him through. Looks like the meeting wrapped up sooner than expected.
Jake’s eyebrows shoot up as Bob, once inside, starts walking straight towards Jake, doing little other than giving a cursory nod to the others. This is definitely outside of the norm. Jake also notices something that Bob has in his hands—a tube of hair gel.
Bob stands in front of where Jake is sitting. “This all right?” he asks quietly. “I know we didn’t really talk about it, but I don’t mind them knowing.”
Jake bites his lip and smiles softly. “Go for it, Baby,” he says, closing his eyes and tilting his chin up.
Instantly, Bob’s hands are carding through his hair with practiced ease. “This would be easier with a hair dryer,” Bob says.
“Come on, Boy Scout,” Jake teases. “I know you’re no stranger to working with what you’ve got.”
Bob lightly smacks the back of Jake’s head. “Don’t be a smartass when I’ve got your head in my hands.”
“Yes, sir, Lieutenant Commander,” Jake says, opening one eye to look at Bob, who is blushing.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You were right. Now be a good boy while I do your hair.”
Jake goes quiet and lets Bob go to work. In less than three minutes, his hair is back to its trademark Hangman style, not a hair out of place. Jake thinks that if Bob weren’t a WSO, he could have definitely made it as a barber. He has magic hands.
And, just like tradition, Jake gets his chin tilted up for a perfect, slow, good morning kiss. Maybe Jake should look into applying for an instructor position at Top Gun. Maybe convince Bob to buy a house with him and a few dogs. Maybe even say yes to the ring Jake has been hiding at the back of his sock drawer for two months now.
The two are oblivious to Rooster gaping at them and Phoenix smirking as Payback, Fanboy, and Maverick each hand her twenty bucks. She knows her WSO as well as she knows herself.