Work Text:
Bradley is having the best kind of day. The kind he hasn't had since… well, hell, probably the first time he got to watch the Califonia Condor chicks hatching. Still, it's coming close.
First, he'd made it to work on time without breaking any traffic laws. For once, the highway parted for him and allowed him the best parking spot amongst the other staff. Then, when feeding said Condors, he was not thrown up on at all, another plus. Their resident Harpy Eagle had also been on her best behavior when Bradley was swapping carcasses for her meal time, and he'd only had to posture twice to get her back at a safe distance.
Bradley'd been scratched by those claws once and was wearing stitches and a cast for nearly three weeks afterward.
But the best part, Bradley thinks, the absolute cherry on top, was when he had been requested to run by the Arctic Station to assist in clean-up. As he had passed by the penguin enclosure, Bradley was treated to front row seats as Maverick, fish in hand, fell face first into the small penguin pond.
While he and Maverick had patched up their more than rocky past, it was still sickeningly pleasurable to see the man floundering and flummoxed with a gaggle of penguins inbound. Maverick had only been saved at the last minute by two strong arms, coming to wrap around his torso and lifting him fully off the ground.
Tom Kazansky, more colloquially known around the zoo as "Iceman," was the resident penguin handler and, though it wasn't publicized, the resident Maverick handler too. Judging by the way his ordinarily stoic face refused to stay frozen, also found Maverick's predicament, half soaked and cursing up a storm behind mostly soundproof glass, hysterical.
So yeah, Bradley's day is shaping up to be one of the best.
Moving from the Kookaburra enclosure towards the staffroom, Bradley can hardly keep the smile off his face. He catches Natasha coming up the trail, and her look as she leads an afternoon tour of middle schoolers towards the aviary is bemused. He thinks she shouts him out to the wide-eyed group of youths, so he waves and gets a few in return before he's down the hill and scanning his badge to open the back door. Blissfully cold air conditioning meets his skin, and he's still beaming as he goes to the fridge to take out his lunch.
Bradley thinks he might be happy enough, even, to agree to something potentially very stupid…
Said potentially "stupid thing" walks through the door just as Bradley had done a handful of minutes before, but arguably with a more theatrical approach as he groans and stretches his arms wide like he doesn't know Bradley's there. The smirk that Big Cat handler Jake Seresin throws him once he's done assures Bradley that that isn't the case.
"Bradshaw," Jake drawls, going for what Bradley assumes is meant to be a cool lean against the filing cabinet of the staff room kitchenette. Instead, Jake misses his mark, stumbles, and then rights himself, his smirk still present, as though he'd messed up for Bradley's sake. It makes Bradley smile. So rarely does the other man have a hair out of place, and seeing him make mistakes is refreshing. Much like the animals he's responsible for handling, Jake, more often than not, is poised, dangerous, and golden under the California sunshine.
'Yeah,' Bradley thinks. He's gonna do something really stupid.
Almost every day without fail, since the two had nearly come to blows over the unofficial title of 'Handler of the Month,' Jake has made a pass at Bradley. Today, because it's such a great day and despite Jake's super-inflated ego and near volatile personality, Bradley is going to say ' yes.'
Bradley thinks it helps that beneath Jake's bravado and showboating, he's seen the large heart and soft edges poking through.
Now, he just has to wait for his opening.
"Heard Pops fell into the penguin tank today," Jake says conversationally, grabbing his own lunch to join Bradley at the table. Bradley doesn't even try to hide his snort, the image of Maverick's face, wide with shock and displeasure, coming unbidden to his mind.
"Just the splash pool," Bradley corrects but adds, "still wish I'd gotten it on camera."
Jake offers his own snort at the remark and kicks his leg up on the spare chair. No one else usually takes their break this late in the afternoon, so Bradley doesn't nag him to put his feet down.
"Bet if we asked security, they'd pull the footage for us."
"Bet you ten bucks Iceman already has."
For a second, Bradley's challenge hangs between them, then almost fondly, Jake rolls his eyes with an amused huff of laughter. The tension breaks.
"I'm not in the habit of taking bets that I know I won't win."
The next few minutes are spent comfortably in silence, broken only by the clink of utensils and the rustle of chip bags. Bradley thinks to himself, chewing his cold sandwich, that today may be one of the rare days Jake doesn't shoot his shot, even in jest, and contemplates his next move. He reasons it wouldn't be cheating, setting Jake up for an easy kill.
Leaning back in his chair, almost a mirror to Jake's posture, Bradley crosses his arms over his chest and smirks just a smidge.
"Hey, Jake?" Jake looks up from his protein bowl. "Gimme your pudding cup."
Bradley's demand is met with a disbelieving quirk of eyebrows.
"And why, dearest Rooster, would I do that?" Bradley makes a derisive sound at the use of his nickname (one ill-chosen Halloween costume, and he's never lived it down) and rolls his eyes. Bradley sets his mouth in an exaggerated pout and deploys the puppy dog eyes he's been told on more than one occasion are an unlicensed weapon.
"Because I'm asking nicely?" Jake doesn't even need to respond; Bradley can read the 'who's asking' written all across his face. Regardless of that, Jake doesn't back down and makes a show of faux deliberation, elbows on the table, chin resting on his upturned palm.
"Hmm…I don't know Bradshaw. Gonna have to sweeten the pot."
Bradley leans forward as well, mimicking Jake and shortening the distance between them. If Jake is thrown off by the sudden proximity, he doesn't let it show.
"What did you have in mind, Bagman?"
Jake levels him with one unimpressed look before the trademark sharp smile exposes the blinding whiteness of his teeth.
'Got 'em.'
"How about a date?"
Bradley can tell by the amused twinkle in Jake's eyes that he's not being completely serious, so sure that Bradley, like all the other times, will scoff and turn him down. Bradley reaches his hand across the table and puts it on top of the pudding cup. It's gratifying to watch the confusion flash across those green-blue eyes.
Bradley is going to make sure Jake has a very good day too.
"Sure." He snatches the pudding cup and leans back in his chair.
It's suddenly a tossup for what's better: Maverick's face from an hour ago or the slack-jawed bewilderment Jake is treating him to.
Bradley waits patiently for Jake to reboot and start talking.
"You're… you're not fucking with me, right?" Bradley tries his hardest to school the look of amusement quirking on his lips. There's a hint of vulnerability behind the cutting smile Jake manages to drag up.
"That depends, Seresin; you been fucking with me the last four months?"
Bradley watches as realization dawns on Jake's face, the confusion, and hesitant hope melting away for excitement that almost slides into smug satisfaction instead. However, there's too much genuine surprise for it to reach that final form.
"Not even a little."
At the reassurance, Bradley stands, lunch box closed, snack pack still in hand, and advances forward, plucking the spoon from out of Jake's half-finished lunch.
From the table to the door, Bradley offers no further reply, then turning back, Jake's spoon between his lips, he winks, popping the utensil out.
"Make sure to text me later. Might change my mind."
It's only when Bradley is halfway back to the aviary that he realizes he's still holding on to his lunch container. It will be a nuisance to stow where a guest might not find it, but he thinks the look on Jake's face when he'd wrapped his mouth around his spoon was worth the inconvenience.
Two days later, Bradley waits at the zoo entrance for Jake to come out.
It's Bradley's day off, but Jake had the midday shift and had asked Bradley to meet him for their date. Bradley had been a bit confused but had agreed.
Jake's had months to put something together, and Bradley is sure that the man is a planner at heart. If he wants Bradley back at the zoo, so be it.
It's only twenty minutes after close, but he doesn't have to wait too long for Jake to appear from the safari-style bushes that obscure the interior from outside guests and jog up to the gate.
Unlike what Bradley is expecting, Jake doesn't come out. Instead, he holds open the entrance and gestures for Bradley to come inside.
They head down the path towards the aviary, and Bradley can't keep the skeptical look off his face. Jake catches it and raises a brow.
"I'm not sure it counts as a date if you're taking me to where I work, Jake." It earns him a laugh.
Bradley finds himself chuckling along.
"Ye of little faith," the blonde remarks, and without preamble, snatches Bradley's hand up and keeps them moving.
Jake guides them past the aviary. Fritz casts the two of them a confused look but nods when they pass. They keep pushing further into the zoo, not stopping at Reptile Corner or where Maverick (stuck on the evening shift after contaminating the penguin pool) is attempting to wrangle some of the capybaras towards their shelters for the night. He is very pointedly not looking at them when they mosey along, and Bradley just knows he's in for an earful later.
There's only one place left to go after that, and Bradley's eyebrows pull together. He doesn't stop walking or let go of Jake's warm hand, though.
"The botanical garden?" Bradley sees Jake roll his eyes, but the smile on his lips stays light.
"Don't sound too disappointed, Bradshaw. I'm more creative than that." Even as he says it, he pulls his keyring off his hip and unlocks the door.
The botanical garden is contained inside an enormous greenhouse allowing the more tropical plant life to flourish unimpeded. It's a place Bradley likes to walk around when he's got too much energy, but usually, only at the end of his shifts since during the day, the place is humid and filled with tourists. At dusk, however, it's like the garden has been transformed.
With the sun just dipping below the horizon, the fairy lights Bradley's never noticed before switch on, the glow soft and warm. There are no people either, just him and Jake, and Bradley can hear the gentle gurgling of the artificial creek. The brighter-colored butterflies that call the garden their home are almost bioluminescent against the backsplash of lush greens and starbursts of flowers. There's a blanket and basket on the ground by the small circle of benches where tour guides give presentations, a few additional lanterns lighting their way.
"Oh." It's all Bradley's brain can supply as he takes in the atmosphere. Something shifts in his chest, hot and fluttering.
Jake squeezes his hand.
"You don't work night shifts. Figured you'd probably never seen it like this." Bradley turns to face Jake, and the other man is already looking at him. Bradley thinks if it weren't bad form (or would make him look terribly desperate), he would kiss Jake right then.
Bradley lets himself be pulled to the blanket and wooed with finger sandwiches and canned wine instead, listening and interjecting with questions as the blonde entertains him with the tale of how he'd managed to pull this off after hours. Even when the food and drinks are finished, they sit together a while longer, talking like they haven't before, only sharp when wanting to force laughter and soothing with brushes of fingers over arms.
When Jake begins checking his watch, Bradley worries he's overstaying his welcome, but he doesn't want to let his nerves show.
"Got a hot date?" Bradley lets the joke slip easily, reclining backward and resting on his palms. Jake flashes him one of his million-dollar smiles and goes to stand.
"Not unless you plan to dip out before the grand finale." He holds his hand out for Bradley to take. When he's on his feet again, Bradley lets their fingers link together again, only causing minor trouble for Jake, who attempts to clean up their picnic one-handed.
"You got another trick up your sleeve?" Bradley can't help the giddy excitement bubbling up when Jake starts leading him back through the zoo.
Jake stops them and smiles like he has been for the last hour. Bradley's chest constricts.
"You gave me plenty of time to come up with a lot of 'em, darlin'." And Bradley can't help himself. He bends down and kisses the southern drawl right out of Jake's mouth.
They get stuck like that, trading kisses in the middle of the path until there's a buzz against Bradley's cheek. Jake's smartwatch receives a notification.
"Dammit," Jake sighs the curse against Bradley's mouth, eyes still closed, until he finally steps away with a semi-apologetic shrug. "As much as I'd love to keep this going, we really are on a schedule." Bradley hums, fighting the urge to swoop back in regardless of the seriousness in Jake's tone. He settles for retaking his hand, waiting to be directed.
"Provided you're not leading me away to feed me to the lions, we can always pick up where we left off."
Bradley is expecting a laugh as he's tugged into motion. He gets a look that borders on sheepish and a calculating side-eye instead.
Jake actually taking them to the lion enclosure almost stops Bradley's heart dead.
He lets Jake usher him inside before finding his voice.
"I was… I was just joking, Jake." The words lack the tremor of trepidation he feels, thankfully. Jake seems to hear it anyway cause he loops an arm over Bradley's shoulder and gives him a small squeeze.
"Don't worry, we're not doing anything dangerous, okay? Just dropping off some late-night snacks. Most of them will be inside the den sleeping, and even if they aren't, I've been handling these guys since they were cubs." Bradley isn't worried that Jake will actually toss him into the enclosure, and he knows that Jake, regardless of past animosity, would never actively put him in harm's way but… Bradley knows how dangerous the animals they work with are, the ones Jake works with specifically.
As much as he can admit to himself that it's interesting, being inside the different enclosures, it's also not something that's done lightly. Still… Bradley can see the excitement poorly masked in Jake's expression, he's heard the other man talk about his cats like they're common house pets, and he wants to share that with Bradley just a little.
He already knows he's going to regret it before the 'alright' even crosses his lips.
Javy is waiting for them by the first door of the enclosure with a bucket in hand. The smell of the raw meat doesn't bother Bradley too much; used to the decaying food he serves up to the raptors regularly. Jake still does the gentlemanly thing and takes the "snacks" himself. It eases some of the tension that had worked its way into Bradley's shoulders. When they reach the second door, Bradley can finally see into the enclosure. He doesn't know why the expanse of sand and rock, intercut with some sparse brush and dried logs makes his stomach swoop.
Theoretically, the ability to see where one of the cats is should be comforting, but it just reminds Bradley that he'll be able to see them coming. The fact that it's dark is also not helping.
It's ridiculous (except it's not), the striking fear that grips Bradley when they step into the enclosure together, but there's a comfort in how Jake, not turning his back to the open space, presses a hand to Bradley's chest.
"Stay here, okay? You'll still get a better look than any tourist on the other side of the glass, but… I'd rather you be close to the door." Bradley swallows and nods.
Jake's right. He gets a fantastic look when one of the two male lions the zoo currently has lopes out from a hidden den and right up to Jake, chuffing and nudging the man who has already made quick work of distributing the meat away from himself with a pair of tongs. Still, he probably smells a bit like blood and has drawn the feline's attention.
Bradley is doing his best not to breathe too deeply, body statue still. Sure, his birds can fuck him up, kill him even, but Bradley knows he's at least got a fighting chance if they try. A lion? Not even a little.
The lion bumps Jake one more time, the handler offering him a careful scratch behind the ear before it slinks off to find the hidden treats. Jake withdraws with controlled steps, never turning away from the creature until he's beside Bradley again. The door hisses open behind them, and Jake guides Bradley backward with a hand on his arm.
When the second door closes, and they're back in the handlers area, Bradley sucks in two large lungfuls of air and tries to stop the adrenaline shivers running down his back. Javy's left them to themselves, a moment of privacy, and Jake takes up Bradley's hand again, his expression anxious, obviously waiting for Bradley's reaction.
Bradley has to take another breath.
"That was… terrifying," Jake's face immediately falls, and Bradley is quick to use the tether of their joint hands to jerk him into Bradley's space. "But," he smiles, "very cool."
Jake is beaming when he shifts up and kisses Bradley. When he pulls back and goes for a second, Bradley puts a finger to his mouth, halting him.
"Still, maybe next time I pick the date?"
Bradley tastes Jake's laughter on the next press of their lips.