Work Text:
A to-go coffee cup appears on your desk, safely out of the way of the paperwork you’re working on. You look up when a chair is pulled out and a man flops into it. “Shouldn’t you be at a post flight briefing?” You arch an eyebrow looking at the man opposite you.
“Maverick got pulled into a briefing of his own, so we’re off the hook until his ass chewing is done.” Rooster shrugged, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I figured you needed a break.” His smile is genuine, warm and it makes your heart skip when the full force of it is focused on you.
“I appreciate that.” You take the coffee offering and take a sip hoping to hide the grin that’s spreading across your face. “You’re sweet.”
“You work too hard.” He shifts in the chair, fiddling with the cardboard sleeve on his cup. “You know what they say, work hard play harder.”
“Wouldn’t that lead to exhaustion?”
“If you’re doing it right.” He says. “Nothing quite like collapsing in bed thoroughly exhausted.”
There’s a subtle shift in his tone, it sends shivers down your spine and warmth pooling between your legs. It’s hard to focus on anything other than his hands which are messing with the sleeve, fingers flexing. You manage to drag your eyes away from his hands only to be taken by the flush of red on his cheekbones. “That does sound like a good night.” You press your thighs together under the desk, grateful that the furniture hides your squirming.
“It often leads to good mornings, doesn’t it? Tangled up in blankets, warm and lazy. Nice and slow.” You’re surprised your voice doesn’t tremble, your hands curling lightly into fists to keep yourself from reaching out to smooth the errant curl from his forehead. You’ve often thought about how his hair feel as you run your fingers through it, picturing the way his eyes would close, or if he’d like it if you tugged lightly. Which often lead to you thinking about how he’d react if you tugged on his curls while his face was buried between your legs. You clear your throat and offer a small smile.
“Is there something I can help you with Lieutenant Bradshaw, or is this purely pleasure?”
“Pleasure.” He replies lightly. “I like sneaking off to spend time with you.” The two of you had had moments like this over the past few weeks. He’d come visit you at your desk, you’d manage to catch a glimpse of him in his classroom or join him for lunch. He’d walk you to your car after work, and the two of you would spend time talking, long after the parking lot was empty. The words to ask if he wanted to grab drinks, dinner, or even just catch a movie always seemed to hover between the two of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.
Once you had managed to get up the courage to ask him to dance. Someone had taken control of the jukebox at the Hard Deck and had stacked it with 80s power ballads. He held you close, singing softly along with the song, and it was the only version of Bad English’s When I see You Smile that you can tolerate. You went home alone that night feeling the press of his hand against your back, and the faint scent of his cologne on your shirt.
You drop your gaze, “I like getting to see you too.” A second question hovers on the fringes of your mind, and you almost, almost have the courage to ask it. You take a deep breath, the words finding their way to your tongue.
“Hey Rooster! Mav’s looking for us.” Phoenix calls from the doorway. Hangman and Bob are also with her, their heads tipped together, Hangman whispering something to Bob who nods after casting a glance in your direction.
Rooster flashes a grin at you and gets to his feet. “You look like you’ve got something to say.”
“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, too quickly judging by how his smile wavers slightly.
“I’ll see you later.” He taps your desk twice before he’s joining the other pilots.
You exhale, shoulders dropping slightly. The room feels too big without him in it, and it’s infinitely lonelier than before. You reach for the next file on your stack, opening it and begin to enter in the data that needs to be moved.
“Excuse me.”
You look up to see Bob watching you. “Yes Lieutenant Floyd?”
“A couple of us were going over to Mulligans tonight to grab dinner. You’re welcome to come with us if you aren’t busy.”
“I wouldn’t want to interrupt if it’s a team building---”
He stops you with a shake of his head. “It’s not. The usual suspects and a couple of folks that join us at the Hard Deck. It’s a change of scenery.”
“Sure,” you smile at him. He lets you know a time and grins before walking off.
You had enough time after work to go home and change into civilian clothes before meeting up with the others at Mulligans. You see Rooster on the other end of the parking lot leaning against his Bronco, playing with his phone. You park, swallowing the nerves that have risen when you see him.
“Just you and me so far huh?”
He looks up from his phone, and his smile nearly makes your heart stop. “Yeah, Seresin and Nat cancelled.” He shrugs, placing his phone in his pocket. “Which is weird, because Seresin put this together, and apparently now he’s got a stomachache.” He pulls his phone out again when it pings, “And Nat has…cramps.”
You wince in sympathy. “Let Hangman know I hope he feels better.” You pull out your own phone to text Phoenix.
“Bob’s out too.” Rooster was frowning as he looked at his screen.
“Did they eat something that didn’t agree with them?” You’ve pulled out your phone.
“hey, sorry you’re not feeling good, there’s a heating pad in my top dresser drawer.” You send a quick text message to Phoenix. You watch as her text bubble pops up a couple times before you get an answer.
“Have a good time with tonight with Bradshaw, I’m sorry we lied, but you two needed the push. Relax, have fun and enjoy your date.”
“We’ve been tricked.” You look up at him, sliding your phone into your back pocket.
“It appears so.” He rubs the back of his neck, watching you, his eyes searching your face. You nod and offer a small smile. He reaches for your hand, and when his fingers interlock with yours, you don’t mind the fact that you were set up.