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It was another crowded evening at the Hard Deck, Hangman sitting on a stool by the pool table watching Phoenix and Coyote battle it out. Rooster and Payback were over by the piano, Fanboy and Bob were deep in conversation with Fritz, and if Hangman leant to the left, he could just see the back of Halo’s head at the bar.
They’d been on leave for almost two weeks since the mission, the higher-ups seemingly willing to give them time to decompress together (or, more likely, Maverick pulled some serious strings behind the scenes). However it happened, he was grateful. They all needed some time to work through what had happened, and it seemed that shared near-death experiences brought people together.
One person Hangman had surprised himself by getting closer to was Bob. The WSO had seemed to come out of his shell over the past weeks. He’d always been quietly funny, but he seemed more confident now, no longer ducking his head to hide his laughter or sitting on the sidelines away from the action. And though Bob had never really been an easy target, as Hangman had first assumed, he was now unafraid to give as good as he got, merciless but good-natured in his teasing remarks.
It was nice to see him open up, Hangman mused, sipping his beer. He’d never really disliked Bob, even after their somewhat rocky start (Hangman’s fault, he knew), but he hadn’t imagined the two of them becoming actual friends. But friends they had become. What had started with Bob sitting beside him and muttering a quiet thanks to him the night after the mission had turned into early morning runs along the beach, late night movies and pizza on Hangman’s couch. It was nice. Easy.
His eyes drifted over to where Bob was sitting. The frames of his glasses glinted in the low light, and his hair, just longer than regulation permitted, curled at the nape of his neck. His face was split in a wide grin as Fanboy said something Hangman couldn’t hear. At that moment, as if sensing that he was being watched, Bob looked up and met Hangman’s gaze, still smiling. He was beautiful.
Hangman blinked and looked away quickly, not quite sure where that thought had come from. Bob wasn’t unattractive, come on, Jake had eyes, but — beautiful? It must be the alcohol talking.
Hangman glanced back up and was relieved to see that Bob had turned his attention back to the conversation in front of him. He pointedly ignored the fact that he had nowhere near enough to drink to blame it on the alcohol.
A cheer went up from the table in front of him as Phoenix potted her last ball. Coyote groaned loudly as she danced around him, waving the cue in the air. Ducking to avoid being hit, Fanboy took the stick from her and began setting up the table for the next game. Giggling from her victory, Phoenix dropped into the seat beside Hangman, taking the bottle from his hand and downing half of it in one go. He didn’t even bother protesting, his eyes wandering back to where the others had been sat. Except—
“Where’s Bob?” he asked in what he hoped was a casual voice.
Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “At the bar, probably.” She looked down at his drink, now firmly in her hands. “And it looks like you’re out of beer, Bagman.” She nodded suggestively towards the bar. Maybe he hadn’t been so subtle after all.
“Fuck you,” he grumbled softly, but there was no malice behind it. Sighing, he pushed himself out of his seat and made his way across to the bar. He could just about see Bob on the far side, talking to a man in uniform. He didn’t recognise the other man, but the look on his face almost made Jake freeze; he was clearly checking Bob out. He could only see the back of Bob’s head, but the man had one hand loosely gripped around his arm and hadn’t been pushed away yet, so Hangman can only assume…
He continued on his path through the crowd nevertheless, figuring it’d only take him a couple of minutes to grab some beers, and if Bob really wanted to be alone with this guy, well, they could leave. He ignored the way his stomach dropped at the thought.
However, as Hangman stepped up behind them, he realised he had misinterpreted the situation. The man’s knuckles were white where they gripped Bob’s arm, and the WSO’s posture was rigid as he tried to pull away.
“Come on, just one drink—”
Bob tried to shake him off, once again unsuccessful. “I’m flattered, but I’m not interested, I’m sorry.” His voice was firm, but Jake could hear the thinly veiled panic beneath. “Please—”
“Is everything alright?” Hangman asked cooly, stepping between them.
Bob visibly relaxed at the sight of him. “Hey, Hangman.” Finally dislodging the other man’s hand, Bob stepped closer to Hangman and pressed against his side, wrapping an arm firmly around his waist. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, an indecipherable look on Bob’s face before he turned back to the other man. “Adam, this is my boyfriend, Jake.”
Hangman blinked in surprise, but before he had time to process what was happening, Bob was pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. It only lasted a second, but he swore he could feel it linger even after Bob had pulled away. Fighting the urge to raise his hand and run his fingers across the now burning skin of his cheek, Hangman instead fixed his trademark cocky grin on his face. “Yep, that’s me. Bob’s boyfriend.” He stretched an arm casually around Bob’s shoulders. The WSO tensed slightly at his touch but his expression remained carefully blank. Hangman turned to face him better, lowering his voice slightly. “You alright, babe?”
Bob flushed at the petname, but nodded quickly. “Fine. Adam here offered to buy me a drink, but I told him my boyfriend was waiting for me,” he said pointedly at the other man. Adam opened his mouth to argue, but took one look at Hangman drawing himself up to his full intimidating height, sighed, and grumbling under his breath, turned and left.
Hangman felt the tension leave Bob’s body as they remained still tangled together for a moment. “Thank you,” Bob said softly, not meeting Hangman’s eye as he took a step away, letting his arm fall away to his side. “And, uh— sorry, I guess. I didn’t mean to get you involved, he just couldn’t take a hint—”
“Hey, no, it’s ok, man. Any time. Dude was an asshole, anyway. But, you know,” he added with a wink. “If you wanted to kiss me that badly, you could’ve just asked.” Hangman regretted the joke immediately, but it seemed to break the tension; Bob laughed, his cheeks slightly flushed in the low light. They stayed that way, grinning at each other for another moment until Hangman heard someone clear their throat somewhere to his left. He looked up and caught Penny’s eye, suddenly remembering why he was there in the first place. “You want a drink?”
Bob nodded, “Just a soda, thanks.”
Penny handed over their drinks with little more than a raised eyebrow at Hangman as she glanced between the two of them. Jake felt his cheeks reddening again at her knowing expression and quickly led Bob away, back to where their friends were gathered around the pool table.
Phoenix, in a considerably worse state than when Hangman had left her, cheered loudly at their return and pulled Bob into the spare seat behind her, leaving Hangman to sit next to Coyote on the other side of the table. He felt a slight pang of disappointment at the separation, but it quickly disappeared when he met Bob’s eyes from across the group. Phoenix kept talking, waving her hands around as she spoke, and while Bob was nodding along to her words, his eyes kept drifting across to Hangman, who, likewise, was finding it hard to look away.
Hangman found himself wondering what it would be like to really be Bob’s boyfriend, as he had called him just a few minutes before. To be the first thing he saw in the morning, and the last thing at night. To be ‘Jake’ instead of Hangman’. It was unrealistic, he knew. He and Bob were friends, nothing more. And he was content with that, he thought. Just being near the man, to know him as Hangman did, was a privilege.
And yet, he couldn’t thinking about the soft kiss Bob had pressed to his cheek, the feeling of his arm wrapped around Jake’s waist – He thought he was going to explode. He took a sip of beer instead.
“We should go to the beach,” Phoenix announced suddenly, leaping from her seat. Fanboy cheered in agreement, readily abandoning his game against Rooster (which he was badly losing). Bob rolled his eyes affectionately at his front-seater but seemed unable to argue with her puppy-dog eyes. He glanced across at Hangman, who shrugged and downed his beer before standing, Coyote and Payback following his lead.
The cool November air prickled Hangman’s skin as they made their way outside into the quiet night. Phoenix hit the sand first, laughing with Bob and Coyote as they half-carried her onto the beach. Fanboy was quick to follow, racing Halo and Rooster down to the water. Payback emerged last, carrying an old football he’d found by a bench. Phoenix cheered, disentangling herself from the others to run long across the sand.
Hangman laughed, sitting down on the edge of the deck as he watched them all. He could hardly believe that a month ago, he’d barely known half of them. And now they were like family.
Fanboy, still being chased by Rooster and Halo, let out a shriek as he hit the water. Evidently it was colder than he was expecting. Rooster tackled him and they both fell into the sea. Further up the beach, the others had started a makeshift game of football. There were no teams, as far as he could tell, just an all-out battle to win the ball. Halo ran up to join them; spotting her, Phoenix dropped the ball and swept her into her arms instead, almost sending them both tumbling to the ground.
A soft chuckle sounded from beside him, and Hangman was surprised to see Bob standing there. In the chaos in front of him, he hadn’t noticed the WSO slip away from the group.
“Hey,” Bob greeted softly, sitting on the deck beside him. They weren’t quite touching, but Hangman could almost feel the warmth radiating off the other man through the gap between them. He smiled at Bob, then turned his eyes forwards again. Fanboy and Rooster had given up on their water fight, it seemed, and had joined the game of football, still soaking wet.
“I know I said it before, but thank you, Jake.”
There it was again. The use of Jake’s real name. It wasn’t the first time Bob had said it, but it never failed to get him right in the gut. At least here, the darkness hid his reddening cheeks.
“Yeah, he was a real asshole, huh?” He watched Fanboy take down Coyote with a hard tackle, the sand breaking their fall. “Any one of us would’ve done it, you know. Given the chance, I think any one of these guys would die for you.” He meant it half as a joke, but sincerity crept into his voice. He cleared his throat and laughed awkwardly.
Thankfully, Bob laughed too, bumping their shoulders together. “Thank you. I mean it.”
“Any time, baby.” Hangman grinned, and Bob smiled back. His glasses reflected the string lights hung around them, and it was all Jake could do to stop himself leaning in and kissing him right there. He looked away again, certain Bob would hear how hard his heart was pounding.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the game in front of them. Phoenix and Halo had given up completely, drifting away from the group to look at the stars. Meanwhile, it seemed that Fanboy and Rooster had teamed up with Payback to take Coyote on 3v1. The latter was complaining loudly as he ran between the three of them, desperately trying to catch the ball. A rogue throw from Fanboy sent the ball hurtling towards them, stopped only by Hangman’s quick reflexes. As he settled back into the sand, Bob’s arm brushed against his, and did not move away. Hangman flipped Fanboy the finger and tried to hide his smile.
They were sat even closer, now. If anyone had asked Jake, he would’ve blamed it on the cool breeze, or the alcohol, but really, he couldn’t keep himself away. He was drawn to Bob in a way that he couldn’t explain, and he was tired of fighting it. His skin burned wherever they touched, and he tried not to tense when he felt Bob’s head gently resting on his shoulder.
After what seemed like an eternity and yet no time at all, Coyote waved over at Hangman and told him they were going home. Reluctantly, he felt Bob pull away, and he stood. Bob followed. They were face to face, close enough that Jake could feel Bob’s breath against his cheek. He quickly took a step backwards and lowered his gaze.
“What if I did want to?” Bob asked suddenly.
Hangman frowned. “What?”
Bob held his gaze, a determined but hopeful expression on his face. “You said, if I wanted to kiss you so badly, I could’ve just asked.” He took a small step forward, eyes not leaving Jake’s face. “So, um. What if I wanted to?”
Hangman blinked. He blinked again. Bob wanted to kiss— him? Surely he’d misunderstood somehow.
But the longer he stood there, he saw Bob’s expression change from hopeful to disappointed, and he felt a stab in his chest as the other man started to pull away.
Heart pounding, he reached out and took Bob’s hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling him closer. “I meant what I said, baby. You only had to ask.” And finally, Jake closed the distance between them.
It wasn’t like in the movies. There were no fireworks, no sparks flying around them, just a gentle kiss that felt… right.
Unable to stop the wide grin spreading across his face, Hangman pulled back to catch his breath, resting their foreheads together. Bob smiled back, his cheeks glowing in the dim light.
A loud cheer sounded from their right, and someone wolf whistled. Hangman couldn’t bring himself to care. Raising his middle finger at the group, he cupped Bob’s cheek with his other hand and kissed him again.
This was what coming home felt like.