Chapter Text
Bob Flloyd had never been in love.
It was just a fact. It wasn’t something that particularly got him down or kept him awake at night. It simply hadn’t happened for him. The same way he’d never gone skydiving or been to New Mexico.
It wasn’t like he thought he was unlovable or that it would never happen. But he’d been an awkward teen and then a near lifetime of military training surrounded by alpha male types meant that there hadn’t been much time for him to go looking for soulmates.
And he was damn good at his job. He knew that he didn’t fit the stereotype like some of his friends; Payback’s intimidating stature, Rooster’s commanding presence in every room he walked into, hell Hangman could have been built in a lab he was such a Navy poster child. But Bob knew what he brought to the table.
But no. He’d never been in love.
“Not even a high school girlfriend?” Fanboy nagged, practically gaping at him.
Bob shrugged one shoulder, swirling his beer around on the table. He’d hated the stuff when they all first arrived back to Top Gun, but it had grown on him. Just like the motley crew he was surrounded by right now weeks later.
“Not even, like, a little one?”
Payback nudged Fanboy’s shoulder, scowling at him, “Dude, what does that even mean?”
Fanboy threw his hands up, “I’m just saying! You’re a good-looking guy and girls love a pilot!”
Bob blinked at him, “But I’m not a pilot?”
Fanboy levelled him with a raised eyebrow, “Can you fly a fighter jet?”
“I mean, I know the basics-“
“I rest my case.” Fanboy cut through, smacking his hands on the table and leaning back in his chair.
Payback chuckled, shaking his head, “He’s got a point, Bob. Constantly surrounded by badass guys and girls in peak physical condition and not one person has ever sparked your fancy?”
A vision of sleek dark hair and intelligent eyes flashed through Bob’s mind.
He shook his head, “Nope.”
He glanced around the bar, hoping to avoid getting dragged into the duo’s bickering as they started listing off names of girls he’d never met that he might be suited for.
It was a busy night at The Hard Deck. Penny was behind the counter with her usual warm grin even as she was run off her feet. Coyote was leaning on the bar, head bent in conversation with a young redhead woman in civilian clothing. Bob watched as she giggled and pointed to each of his badges in turn, and Coyote seemed more than happy to explain them all to her if his little grin and anything to go by.
Harvard, Yale, Fritz, Halo and Phoenix were all at the darts board, letting out an obnoxiously united groan when Hangman landed what looked like a fourth bullseye and turned to them smugly.
Bob used to find them intimidating; a pack of wolves that walked in like they owned the place, too loud and too full of themselves. Now though, they looked more like overgrown puppies, the boys wrestling with each other playfully while the girls leaned away and rolled their eyes at each other.
His eyes held on Phoenix and he found he couldn’t pull himself away.
Her hair was as sleek and shiny as ever, and those little creases appeared in the corners of her eyes when Halo whispered something in her ear that had her bursting into easy laughter. She grinned as Hangman held out a dart to her challengingly, snatching it from his hand and sauntering past him and making sure to bump him out the way with her hip as she went.
Phoenix wasn’t loud, she wasn’t full of herself. But she never went unnoticed. Bob had seen it from the moment he laid eyes on her that first night in that very bar; Natasha Trace was like a magnet. People just wanted her attention and tried to please her, and she didn’t even have to lift a finger. Even Hangman, who Bob had seen as an immediate concern with all his showboating bravado, had melted the moment Phoenix raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at him.
Then Rooster had walked in, chin high and radiating the confidence of a man making a grand return to his old stomping ground, and Phoenix had popped him with her cue stick and had him glued to her hip for the rest of the night.
Because people didn’t just notice Phoenix. They liked her. They loved her. So when she’d turned those sparkling eyes on Bob and sat in one hip with an amused grin and asked, “You’re my new backseater?” it was only natural that he fell into her orbit and loved her too.
But he wasn’t in love with her…at least, as far as he knew. But then, how would he know? Like he said to Fanboy; he’d never been in love.
He was just on the edge of that rabbit hole when the Jukebox stammered to an abrupt halt, triggering a chorus of boos and moans from the crowd.
Payback sighed even as a grin settled on his face, relaxing back in his seat, “here we go.”
Bob smiled. He was part of the pack now, he knew the routine.
He turned in his seat to face the piano across the room, not at all surprised to see one Bradley ‘Rooster’ Brashaw settling at the stool, cracking his knuckles and then his neck.
“Get on with it, Rooster!” Javy shouted teasingly from where he’d slung an arm around the redhead’s shoulders, drawing out chuckles from the navy crowd and regulars and confused murmurs from the tourists and newcomers, but it got everyone’s attention.
“You can’t rush art, Machado.” Rooster shot back with a smirk, whipping off his aviators and hanging them on his shirt. He rarely came out in uniform, nearly always insisting on running home to change into his civvies and whatever blindingly bright Hawaiian shirt took his fancy.
“Fashionably late and fashionably challenged.” Phoenix had whispered in Bob’s ear one night as Rooster walked in, back when they were still getting to know each other. Bob had snorted his drink out of his nose and Phoenix’s laughter was like music.
Rooster’s eyes dropped to the keys as he began to play, and Bob’s smile widened as that almost-irritatingly smooth voice began to sing out,
“Oh, my love. My darlin’…I’ve hungered for your touch…a long, lonely time,”
“God he’s gone sappy.” Fanboy whispered, earning another punch and a sharp “shh!” from Payback.
“Time goes by, so slowly. And time can do so much…are you…still mine?
I need your love…I need your love…God speed your love…to me.”
The whole bar was silent in rapt attention. Penny was leaning on the bar with her chin in her hand and a soft smile on her face. Javy had pulled his new friend into his side, resting his cheek against her hair while she practically glowed.
Bob glanced back to the other side of the room and knew some of the others were doing the same. Hangman was leaning back against one of the tables, a small smile on his face. Phoenix looked absolutely delighted, her dark eyes flitting between the piano and the blonde beside her. If Bob thought Javy’s girl was glowing…Phoenix was blinding.
Hangman pushed off his perch, leisurely making his way across the room.
“Lonely rivers cry, wait for me, wait for me.
Rooster’s eyes drifted up, and Bob could see the grin creep onto his face as he spotted Hangman round the last table to lean folded arms over the top of the piano.
If music could speak, Bob had a fair idea what the dazzling flourish of keys Rooster played would say as he reached the peak of the song,
“I'll be coming home...Wait...for me, my love. My darlin’. I’ve hungered for your touch. A long, lonely time…”
Another extravagant ad lib, this time coupled with a cheeky smirk that had Hangman chuckling and shaking his head fondly.
“And time goes by…so slowly. And time can do so much.
Are you still mine? I need your love…
I need your love…God speed your love
…to...me....”
Whatever Rooster had planned for his final flourish on the keys was cut off as Hangman reached down, pulling him up by his dog tags into a bruising kiss that they were both smiling widely through.
The bar burst into applause and cheers and more than a few cat calls and wolf whistles as the two men pulled apart fractionally, still gazing at each other like they were the only ones in the world.
“They’re sickening.” Fanboy coughed, but when Bob turned around he could see a glimmer of tears in the other man’s eyes.
Before Bob could think of a reply, the smell of cherry blossoms clouded around him and a small body was shuffling up against his side. Turning, he saw Phoenix beaming at him, “Chair share?”
His words caught in his throat, Bob nodded mutely and shifted so that she could fit more comfortably. Their bodies were pressed against each other tightly, with Phoenix’s shoulder resting just overlapping his own.
“You think they’ll ever stop being all starry-eyed?” Payback drawled, sipping on his drink.
Bob felt the rise and fall of Phoenix’s shoulder as she shrugged and laughed that quiet, musical laugh, “Look, I went through hell trying to get their heads out of their asses. Appreciate my fine work.”
“I think they appreciate each other enough for all of us.” Fanboy muttered, ducking as Phoenix swatted at him.
She was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again there was something softer in her voice, “They’re in love. They found each other after everything. Despite everything. That’s a beautiful thing.”
Then she was swivelling her head and oh God she was so close and her big brown eyes were looking right into his, “Bob knows what I mean. Right, Bob?”
His words were still stuck. He stammered a couple of times, mouth opening and closing like a fish.
Phoenix’s smile was just starting to drop when Halo called her for some much-needed girl backup against their male cohort.
As quickly as she appeared, she was up and off, carefree and considerably not as affected as Bob was feeling.
“You good, dude?” Payback asked, raising an eyebrow.
And shit, Bob had absolutely no idea if he was good. He’d never felt like this before.