Chapter Text
“Hey babe, sorry to keep you waiting, my set ran on late.”
Jake looked up at the sound of a voice he didn’t recognise just in time to see a guy he didn’t know sliding into the booth across from him.
“Um.”
In normal circumstances Jake liked to think he was quite eloquent, but it was early (like, he might not even know this time existed if not for the joy of basic training early), and he was off the back of a long day that still wasn't over, so he didn’t feel he could be blamed for not knowing how to react to this development.
The guy was still blithely talking away at him like they were the best of friends, nattering on about how he was worried Jake wouldn’t’ve waited, and how lucky he was to have him, and other things that would’ve been nice to hear if only they were coming from someone Jake was actually in a relationship with, rather than the literal stranger who was saying them.
Either Jake was missing something, or the guy was suffering from one hell of a head injury.
At a loss for what else to do, he leant back in his seat with his arms crossed and raised an eyebrow, intending to wait out the guy’s word vomit until he said something that explained what was happening, or otherwise made things too weird for Jake to continue suffering in silence.
“Can you please say something, instead of just staring at me like a psycho, so that it actually looks like we know each other?”
That took him by surprise, both because of the change of tone and volume. Almost hostile? And quieter, like this was the only thing he had said that he didn’t want anyone else in the diner to hear. Accusatory? As if Jake was the unreasonable one for being surprised by this turn of events.
“I don’t know what you expect me to say,” he was being honest, but then something shifted in his periphery and a rush of understanding hit him. “I’ve been waiting here for hours; I was wondering whether you’d remember me.” It was bullshit pulled from nowhere, based entirely upon the guy’s apologetic opener. He hoped it would be enough to satisfy whatever game he had been unwittingly roped into playing.
The guy tutted, grinning at Jake in a way that showed how much he was enjoying Jake’s mounting irritation, though it remained unclear whether he knew it was real, or if he was under the impression that Jake was just that good of an actor.
“Baby, how could I ever forget?”
Fuck if it isn’t convincing.
Jake’s eyes flickered to the now-vacant doorway where the petite, blonde girl had been hovering, watching their conversation with a concerning level of intensity, just moments before. Part of him wanted to check out the window for her, but in all honesty? He wasn’t sure he cared. Maybe now that she was gone, he would be able to go back to his early morning introspection in peace. When he looked back to the guy however, that possibility felt less certain. He was leaning forwards on the table, closer than Jake would have liked him to be, with the same grin on his face. Only it seemed more genuine now that the apparent source of his problems had miraculously disappeared.
“You are a lifesaver. Sorry about all that, I was struggling to get rid of her and saw you through the window sitting alone, so I kind of just winged it and hoped that one, you’d be cool, and two, she’d fall for it.” He sat back with a flourish of his hands like Jake was supposed to be impressed by his logic, “turns out I was right on both counts.”
“Congrats.”
Jake returned his attention to the lukewarm cup of coffee he had been fixated upon before that interruption, fully expecting the guy to make a hasty exit now, whilst he still could, from whatever drama he had been trying to avoid with the girl Jake had helped him to get rid of.
“Fuck,” the guy said, all breathy and full of disbelief, “you’re just determined not to be interested in me, aren’t you?”
He looked up to see a calculating expression flitting over the guy’s face, as if Jake was some kind of puzzle he couldn’t yet crack. The undivided attention was dizzying. Not that he wasn’t used to it. Especially from guys as cocksure as this. When he wanted to, stealing the limelight was Jake’s comfort zone, commanding and self-assured, unflinching and charismatic as he was. But he came here tonight to observe, not be observed, and the unlooked-for change of pace was trying its best to take him by surprise.
“What makes you think you’re worth my interest?”
The guy lit up, like he was thrilled by the challenge Jake had unintentionally set. “You’re not even a little bit curious.” There was wonder in his tone.
“Maybe I just have bigger things on my mind at the moment than you and your problems?” He wasn’t sure why he had phrased it like a question, it was true after all, he did, but it was like he was trying to appease the guy when in actuality he owed him nothing.
“Maybe just what you need is a distraction then.” That was no question, and Jake suspected he wasn't going to be given a choice in the matter.
The guy’s hand darted out to steal Jake’s coffee cup, taking a sip before Jake could think to either protest the theft, or warn him that it had been sitting out for too long now to still be drinkable. He pulled a face as the liquid hit his tongue, spitting it back into the cup in a manner that shouldn’t’ve looked that attractive. “This is cold.” He was up and bounding towards the counter before Jake could respond, more puppy than human with the amount of excitement asking for a fresh cup of coffee had infused in him.
Now that the guy's attention was caught elsewhere, Jake took his time in examining his unexpected acquaintance. He found himself pleasantly surprised to note that, goddamn, the guy was stunning. In that too good to be true kind of way. Jake’s brain had been on lag all afternoon however, so he supposed it was to be expected that he might be late on the pick-up with things like that. He knew he tended to get quite pensive before a new deployment, but this time was worse than the others. He felt on edge, couldn’t focus, couldn’t think straight. There was something sticking in the back of his mind that told him this mission would be different. Something in the way his CO had looked at him before she’d announced Jake was being recalled back to Top Gun that he couldn’t quite get over.
Risking his life for his job was old hat by this point, he’d long since become accustomed to it. The observation thing though, that was relatively new.
There was a time when Jake hadn’t ever been affected by things like this. Death had seemed like a thing other mortals did whilst he was too busy living. Impervious, invincible, he was a menace that controlled the skies with an iron fist. Best of the best, and not afraid to remind anybody of that fact.
It was a reputation he’d been coasting on since the day he had taken another person’s life. A whole life. One he had snuffed out in an instant, playing god in the most dangerous of ways.
After the fact, he’d started freefalling through the realisation that nothing was as permenant as it seemed. It was something he’d never talked to anyone about, not even Javy. As much as he loved him, Javy was the type of guy who would try to report his fractured mental state to the brass because he worried about him, and that wasn’t something Jake could risk. He was good. Too good to be felled by something so simple.
All he had needed in the end was a little perspective. Something to remind him his actions had wider consequences than he had once thought. The things he did in the air protected lives or obliterated them. If he was going to remove someone else from this plane of existence, because that was what he had been ordered to do, he found he needed to have a bigger reason than just adding to his notoriety.
That was when he’d started people watching.
Going out into the world, getting away from base, seeing the normal, everyday lives of the people he had ostensibly enlisted to protect. It made it bearable. It made it necessary. It made it become something he would be willing to do again, if and when the time came.
Though, no one said he had to be looking forward to that possibility.
A mug thunked down onto the table in front of him, and he shook his head to refocus on the guy who had now returned to him. There was a tinge of concern in his expression that was quickly suppressed as he doctored his coffee and gestured for Jake to do the same. It was almost companionable as he passed Jake his used spoon so that Jake could stir his own sugar in. They stared at each other; Jake was almost loathe to break the silence but he couldn’t decipher what the guy might be thinking. At least that is, until he realised the guy was trying to out-wait him, like that might somehow trick Jake into revealing all his secrets.
Despite his earlier protests, curiosity had sparked within him, so he resigned himself to it. A familiar mask settled over his face, a slight smirk brought about by feigned indifference, and he settled back to survey the person in front of him, like he already knew all the answers and was just looking for the best opportunity now to fuck with him.
Taking a gamble on the fact that he had been doing the whole lies are more convincing when they’re based on truths thing, Jake asked, “so how did your set go earlier?” Shots fired; the guy startled as if that was the last thing he had been expecting Jake to say. It confirmed to Jake that he had more or less guessed correctly. “The one you were too busy at to think about little ol’ me.”
Jake had to give him credit, he rolled with the punches, “surprisingly well actually, considering the ending.” He was baiting Jake, trying to lead the conversation in a particular direction which Jake wasn’t sure he wanted to take just yet. Sue him, he wanted to see how far he could push the guy's buttons first.
“Musician?”
“Yeah, I pl-”
“No, no, let me guess.” Jake dropped forwards to rest one hand on his chin so he could survey him properly. The guy allowed Jake to subject him to inspection, almost preening in response to the attention. It was the self-assuredness in his gaze, the inherent confidence of a performer, the transparent lack bandmates hanging around that made it such an easy guess. “Solo artist?”
He nodded, looking far too amused by Jake’s antics. Not that Jake could find it in himself to be annoyed any more, he was surprised to find he was enjoying himself.
Jake glanced at his hands as he considered the next question. Long, straight fingers that would suit either of the instruments Jake suspected he might play. However, as the guy clocked his look with a sly grin, transparent about the line of thought his mind had taken at Jake’s sudden interest in that part of his body, and reached out to take a drink, Jake noticed the distinct lack of callouses.
“Pianist?”
“Technically, yeah,” he grimaced, “not that I can bring it with me when I’m touring.”
“Reluctant keyboardist then?”
“I also sing, if that’s of any interest.”
“Do you take requests?”
The guy leaned forwards, his forearms caging his coffee in close to his chest as he batted his eyes for Jake’s benefit. “Only when I’ve got someone I want to impress.”
“Good to know." Jake arched his brow to hint at scepticism he didn't truly feel. "You write your own songs then?”
“Some people think they’re quite good.”
“Anything I would’ve heard of?” At this, the guy looked almost embarrassed. It was the first real crack, aside from that earlier flash of concern, that Jake had seen in the foundation of the guy’s otherwise effortlessly cool demeanour. “C’mon, if you’re touring there’s at least a chance I might have.”
“I can’t tell which scenario would be worse if I’m being honest.”
Jake rolled his eyes at the obvious deflection and chose a different angle of attack, “do you have a stage name, or do you just go by your real name when you play?”
A red flush started to creep up over the guy's cheeks. Much as he looked like he wanted to pretend otherwise, Jake had gotten under his skin. Interesting. He stared at Jake as if trying to work out how he could get out of answering.
“Why don’t you want to tell me? Are you worried I’ll look you up and become some crazy stalker fan like blondie from earlier?”
The guy blanched, near furious as he said, “how the fuck did you know about that?”
Jake’s back straightened, taken aback by his tone. He fixed him with a half-confused gaze, one eyebrow raised as he tried to reassure him, “I didn’t, until you just confirmed it for me.” The guy wilted with relief. “I was joking because you’re being weirdly cagy for someone who was desperate to get my attention not all that long ago. Is she really stalking you?”
He started to relax back to what Jake had come to think of as his usual self as he sighed, “kind of? Maybe more stalker adjacent? Or, like stalker in the making? She’s been showing up to most of my recent gigs and then hovering by the stage door to catch me when I leave. Was flattering at first, but y’know, less so when she tried to follow me to my hotel earlier. I like packed up my shit in my van, and then said I was going for a walk and she just followed me, and then… well you know the rest.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Yea- wait, hey, that’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“Your grand plan to get rid of this girl was one,” Jake held out a finger to show he was counting how many stupid things the guy had just admitted to doing. “Show her your van, two, wander around with her alone in the middle of the night, and, best of all, three, pretend to have a boyfriend who, for some unknown reason, didn’t come to see you play tonight?”
“Hm,” he opened his mouth looking very much like he wanted to argue back but knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on, “okay, yeah, maybe I wasn’t thinking very rationally. But I mean, it worked. She’s gone now.”
“What’re you gonna do if she’s just waiting for you back at your van?”
He stared at Jake like that possibility hadn’t occurred to him. “D’you think she is?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“I should probably go check, shouldn’t I?”
“You have like zero self-preservation instincts; you realise that right?” Jake was starting to wonder how this guy had made it to adulthood in one piece.
The guy just grinned, “my uncle always used to say don’t think, just do.”
“That’s terrible fucking advice.”
“Yeah, not sure he’d be all that thrilled to know how literally I’ve been listening to him,” he said with a huff.
“Are you gonna go check then?”
“Nah, it’s cold out. If she is there, I think she’ll soon be regretting it. Besides, things are far more interesting in here. Rooster, by the way,” Jake frowned at him, thoughts flickering back to his earlier assessment about potential head injuries at the apparent non-sequitur. “My stage name,” he clarified with a chuckle at Jake’s confusion.
“Rooster,” Jake repeated, unable to keep all of the disdain out of his tone. He hadn’t heard of him before, but he was almost reluctant to admit that now at the risk of disappointing him. “Who the fuck picked that out for you?”
“I did! It was a nickname from when I was a kid, okay? And a placeholder I never managed to get rid of before people started recognising some of my songs, kind of got stuck with it then. Everyone else seems to like it well enough.”
“Well, I’m not everyone else.”
“Yeah, tell me about it, way fucking harder to please.”
“I’m so sorry to make you work for it, darlin’.”
Jake wasn’t given time to enjoy the way his flush came back with a vengeance at the sound of that endearment, stumped as he was by Rooster’s next admission, “better than Bradley Bradshaw anyway.”
“Oh,” Jake tried to suppress his laughter as Bradley (he hadn’t realised until he heard his real name how much he had hoped he might get to know it) glared at him in an obvious challenge to do the unexpected and not go for the low hanging fruit. “Why does your real name sound more like a stage name than your actual one? It’s like your parents were setting you up to be a star.”
Bradley snorted at that, “pretty sure I can safely say this is not what they planned for me to be doing when I was a kid.”
“No?”
“Not even close.”
“Why’d you start playing the piano then? It’s usually the kind of thing parents force on their little kids to make them seem more interesting.”
Something flickered over Bradley’s face at that, like he was trying to decide something, but the uncertainty of it all was gone before Jake could figure out whether he imagined it or not.
“My dad used to play.” A small, melancholy smile twisted Bradley’s lips. It told Jake everything he needed to know about how that particular story ended. “One of my earliest memories is being sat on top of a piano whilst he played in the bar he used to basically live at with my uncle. That song, the one he played,” Bradley coughed out a laugh like he couldn’t quite believe he was going to admit this, “I end every set with it, y’know, to keep him with me.”
“What’s the song?” Jake asked, because he could tell Bradley wanted to get this off his chest. He could easily imagine how that sort of thing might have become a gimmick that his fans now expected him to deliver on even though they didn’t understand the enormity of the context behind it.
“You’re gonna love this,” Bradley’s eyes sparkled, “Jerry Lee Lewis, Great Balls of Fire.”
Jake shook his head, “I’m not sure I know it.”
“What?” Bradley almost shouted, earning them a glare from the waitress behind the counter, as if there were any other customers in the diner for them to have been disturbing. In a much quieter, but no less incredulous tone, he said, “I refuse to believe that’s true. How can you not know it?”
“Excuse me for not having listened to every single song in existence.”
“Oh my god, this is insane, it’s a classic.” Jake grinned at him, enjoying having found out how gullible he could be. “Okay, maybe- I’ll play some, maybe you’ll recognise it.”
This was a better reaction than Jake ever could have expected. Playing his part though, he raised that eyebrow again and looked around them, pointing out with his expression that there was nothing here for the song to be played on. Not that that deterred Bradley in the slightest. He settled his fingers against the table and, in the most dramatic manner Jake ever could have imagined, hummed out the first few bars of the song as he hit the keys of the imaginary piano that he had in front of him.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, too much love driv-,” he started to sing, only belatedly clocking the smirk on Jake’s face which gave his game away, “oh, you asshole.”
Jake chuckled, waving a hand at Bradley’s now pouting face, “no, no, keep going, I was enjoying myself.”
It was true, Bradley’s singing voice was like nothing else, even just that little snippet rumbled through Jake like a siren call he’d be more than willing to follow, danger of shipwreck be damned.
“Y’know there are people who would kill for that kind of one-on-one action from me.”
Jake made a point to meet his eyes before he looked him up and down in response to that statement, “I don’t doubt it.” The flush made a comeback at that, bigger and better than ever. Jake found he was entirely unsurprised by how thrilled seeing Bradley flustered made him feel.
Bradley cleared his throat, as if that would hide how much he was affected, and, quite pointedly, changed the subject. “So, when are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here in the middle of the night on your own?”
“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to ask.”
“Well, I was trying to be respectful of your privacy, but it occurred to me that we’ve just been talking about me this whole time. I don’t even know your name.”
Jake wondered about keeping it from him, if only to be difficult, but it was late, he was tired, and with Bradley looking at him so open and honest like that he couldn’t find it within himself to say anything but the truth. “Jake.”
“I know it’s probably a bit late to say this, but it’s nice to meet you, Jake.”
There’s something in the weight of the way he said it. Half like he was treasuring it, half like he was chastising Jake for the fact that it took him this long to share that secret.
He hadn’t heard anyone say his real name in the longest time, always Hangman, or on more formal occasions Seresin, he was very rarely Jake to anyone anymore. He had never considered until then how humanising it might feel to hear his name, his real name, said out loud like that by a practical stranger at god knows what time in a random all-night diner, but there he was.
Something cracked in his voice when he returned the pleasantry. Bradley either didn’t notice, or was magnanimous enough not to say anything.
“Well, that’s one mystery solved,” Bradley said after a moment of silence between them.
He was probing, testing the waters, trying to judge how much he could push for information, in such a tentative way Jake might have found patronising if he wasn’t already so grateful for it. But he wasn’t fragile, he didn’t need to be handled with care, no matter how much it might mean to him. He would bare it all for Bradley if that’s what he wanted, it’s not like they’d ever see each other again. For someone who normally held his cards so closely to his chest, Jake found himself praying Bradley would be brave enough to force him into answering his questions. Like maybe perspective wasn’t what he needed, maybe it was just having someone to listen whilst he poured out all his fears and insecurities, just so that there was one second, one minute, hell maybe even a few hours if he was feeling really greedy, where he didn’t have to keep it all bottled up and hidden. Where he could just be real. Be Jake. Be anything other than what the navy expected of him. Was that so much to ask for? He’d listened to Bradley after all, surely, he would be willing to return the favour?
Maybe it was just the lateness of the hour, but what did this time exist for if not brutal, unadulterated honesty?
“Why are you here Jake?”
It felt like he was being read from the inside out. Jake wondered what Bradley was seeing in him that made him think to ask such a simple, but oh so complicated question.
“I didn’t know where else to go.” And then it all tumbled out of him. A deluge of feeling that he wouldn’t have known how to stop, even if he had wanted it to. He may not know what the future was going to hold, but at least he finally had the opportunity to express how much that concept terrified him. “I think they’re sending us there to die.” He said at the end of it all, after he had explained every single thing he could think of that might help to justify the way he felt. “Not that- I don’t think they want us dead, but there’s just- there’s a way they give orders sometimes. You just know when they’re saying it that they’re not sure whether they’re ever gonna see you again.”
At some point whilst he had been speaking Bradley had grabbed his hand, he couldn’t remember when. He used that contact now to try and reassure Jake, just a thumb brushing against the back of his knuckles. Such a minute gesture, and yet still more than anyone else had ever thought to give him. He didn’t try to downplay the situation to Jake, didn’t tell him to suck it up and get over himself, didn’t give him false platitudes about how everything would be okay in the end. Just brushed a thumb up and down, caressing that small patch of skin, until Jake came back to himself and realised that that was probably the most words that he had ever said in one sitting.
“I-”
“If you even think about apologising for any of that, I’ll kick you under the table.” There was a fierceness to Bradley’s gaze, an unparalleled level of understanding Jake couldn't bear to think about for too long.
He at least had the wherewithal to grin in response, “how do you have any idea what I was about to say.”
“Because I get the feeling you’ve been holding that in for a long time.” Bradley had seen right through Jake, but somehow the scarier part was how willing Jake had been to let him. “I might not be able to fix any of it, but I appreciate the honesty, and I don’t need an apology when I’m just grateful you actually opened up to me.”
“Yeah, well, don’t think I’m gonna make a habit of it.”
“There he is,” Bradley crowed, as if he had missed the crabby side of Jake that had disappeared whilst he had been pouring his heart out.
“Will you say something normal to distract me please? I don't want to talk about the navy anymore.”
Something tightened in Bradley's eyes, but he nodded and thought for a moment before letting out a breath as he said, "I have to drive four hours tomorrow to get to my next show.”
“Mm, are you looking forward to it?”
“Yeah, doing smalltown gigs like this, it’s nice actually. Each one is so different. Not looking forward to the lecture from my manager though, when he finds out I pulled an all-nighter like this.”
“Is that what this is?”
“Well, I’m definitely not gonna be the first one to leave.”
“And you think I am?”
They grinned at each other, at the absurdity of the challenge that they had set, at the fact that they were both so stubborn. This was some kind of stupid teenager shit, not what fully grown men should be doing, and yet, there was nowhere Jake would rather be. He was on the verge of admitting out loud that he wanted this night to last forever.
“How much longer are you touring?” Jake asked, indulging the urge he still felt to get lost in mundanity for a little while longer.
“Uh, few weeks or so, I think? Working my way West. My uncle needs me to housesit for him whilst he's overseas for a bit, so we’ve been lining up gigs along the way, I’ll get there eventually.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s the final destination then? Somewhere warm and sunny I hope?”
“San Diego, so I should fucking hope so.”
It was a coincidence that made Jake’s heart skip a beat.
He couldn’t help the way his hold tightened on Bradley’s hand as he stared at him, “no shit, guess where I’m headed.” His tone was just bordering on sarcastic so that there was no way Bradley wouldn’t get the hint.
Bradley graced him with a beaming smile that spoke of things Jake believed were too dangerous to truly consider. “Well damn, maybe we’ll run into each other.”
“Mhm,” Jake didn’t want to commit to anything. Not because he didn’t want to see Bradley again, he just knew his life wasn’t something that suited hopeful stares and planning for the future in the way Bradley now seemed to be doing. “Maybe we will.”
It was a long shot.
Maybe in different life where things were less complicated.
He didn’t have the right words to explain that to Bradley in a way he would understand, he seemed too hopeful romantic to accept that not everything had a happy ending. Jake couldn’t bring himself to tear down the tentative smile creeping across his face with something as destructive as reality. Let Bradley daydream about another chance meeting on the streets of San Diego, as if they were in a rom-com, and this time in the diner was just a prelude to the real story about the love they might have had together.
The alarm on his phone seemed shrill in an all too mind-numbing way when it broke through the meaningless conversation they had been making for the last hour or so – they had just started in on their third cup of coffee for the night, having long since barrelled past the point of exhaustion, with a cheery wave and a middle finger, like it had no power over them – but it settled Jake in a way he hadn’t been expecting. Resigned to his fate, he was ready to become Hangman again. To shuck off the vestiges of this vulnerable creature Bradley's presence had brought forth, and go back to doing what he did best without hesitation.
He could see in Bradley’s eyes that he knew what this meant, that it was over, but he still felt the need to explain, “I have a transport to catch, and you need to go take a nap before you even think about driving anywhere.”
“Yes mom.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know. I will, I promise.” Jake raised an eyebrow, not believing him for a second. “Pinkie swear?” He proffered his little finger with such a childlike wonder Jake didn’t know how to resist, he wrapped his finger around Bradley’s, trying to work out how he was supposed to let go again.
They walked out of the diner together. Jake snorted at the thought that that wasn’t how he had expected that particular challenge to end, the look on Bradley’s face told him he was thinking the same thing. But then they separated, Bradley was going one way and Jake the other. Duty called. He didn’t look back as he walked away, not because he didn’t want to, but because he would never have had the strength to leave if he met Bradley’s eyes again.
There was something tenuous in their encounter.
Jake felt like he’d left something of himself behind in that booth that he would never get back.
At least he had the memories to console himself with.
Hours later, and thousands of miles between them, meeting Bradley Bradshaw felt like nothing more than a distant daydream.
Jake strode into the Hard Deck, looking for all intents and purposes like he owned the place, as if there was nothing else to it. Javy was there waiting for him, with a smile, a beer, and a game of darts, as he always was, ready to catch up with an old friend on what might very well have been one of their last nights of freedom.
***
Jake didn’t think much about Bradley again until after the mission, and even then, it was just passing thoughts about whatever happened with that girl and his van, and whether he even made it to California in the end. He understood they were questions he’d never get the answers to, resigned himself to accepting the mystery, knew better than to bother wasting time with wondering what might have been.
Shock didn’t even begin to explain how he felt therefore, when, a few days after they had returned to land, Maverick arrived at the Hard Deck whilst they were celebrating, with company in the shape of a nephew none of the squad had even known he had. Jake wasn't with the squad when they arrived, so it made for a dramatic entrance – almost like he’d planned it, if only he had known what was waiting for him – the way he strode over to the pool table the squad were gathered around, eyes for one person, and one person alone, whom he hoped beyond hope would remember him.
A fleeting wave of panic swelled within him as he was taken back to that night in the diner. He could remember with distinct clarity just how much of himself he had given up to the safety of the early hours of the morning and a concerned stranger. Jake wondered whether he would live to regret the way he had trusted Bradley Bradshaw, just long enough to consider turning around and walking far, far away.
Then their sights locked, and he saw with a rush of clarity and understanding that there had never been anything for him to worry about.
“Bradshaw,” blanketing himself with the protection of a surname for its less personal touch, on the off chance he happened to be imagining things, “as I live and breathe.”
Bradley stared at him like he couldn’t quite believe he was that dense. “Jake,” cutting to the chase of it all, forcing them into deeper waters, acting reckless like he still hadn’t broken that bad habit of listening to his uncle’s advice about not thinking (in hindsight, the context that that advice had come from Maverick of all people made it make a lot more sense). “You look good.”
Jake could see the question Bradley had hidden beneath that greeting, because he, unlike everyone else in the room, knew how unlikely Jake had thought it would be that he could survive the unknown ordeals he had had to face and come out the other end still alive and kicking.
“I am good. Very good in fact, almost too good to be true.”
Some of the squad around him rolled their eyes and shook their heads, indulging the arrogance they were long since familiar with. He hoped it would suffice as an answer for now, aware that he’d have to explain to Bradley in more detail later, maybe at another diner in the middle of the night, when talking just came to him a hell of a lot easier, how little good began to cover it.
It would have to do for now.
Before Bradley could speak again, Maverick waded into the conversation, looking unsure whether he should be thrilled or horrified by the fact that they appeared to already know each other.
“We met a while back,” Bradley explained, as if it were longer than just a few weeks. It felt like longer. Like Jake's whole life had been spent waiting to meet him. “I’ve been wondering how long it’d take us run into each other again.”
"You never said your uncle was navy?" Jake said, trying his best not to sound accusatory. Bradley didn't have to tell him anything, but Jake was surprised it hadn't come up naturally after all of his trauma dumping.
"No, but in my defense we had more important things to talk about." Of course, Jake should have known how considerate Bradley was, he had all but begged to change the subject, Bradley wouldn't've brought it up after that out of respect.
Reality got in the way, because it always did. Bradley was forced into getting to know the rest of the squad. When he was dragged to the piano, Jake watched enraptured from a distance. Bradley ended his impromptu set with Jerry Lee Lewis because he had to, but the crooked grin he gave Jake told him it was harder to do that here than it must have been anywhere else in the world. Jake tried to catch him after that, fighting against the crowd in a futile way that left him thrumming with nervous energy and frustration.
It was too much inside, the noise, the people, the unspoken thing between them that they had yet to do more than hint at acknowledging. Tentative with uncertainty, Jake left the bar and settled a few steps away from the porch on the sand, resolving that if he couldn’t get to Bradley, Bradley would have to come to him.
If he wanted to.
If he didn’t, well that would be an answer in and of itself. One he’d have to learn how to accept.
Though it took a while, he wondered why he had ever felt the need to doubt Bradley.
A body thumped onto the sand right next to him. That somehow familiar face smiled, filled with a wondrous glow which was beyond endearing, as if he couldn’t believe his luck that they kept meeting like this.
Jake snorted and ducked his head, hopeful as he said, “I was wondering whether you’d remember me.”
It wasn’t a complaint, it wasn’t a criticism, he hadn’t minded waiting at all. No, it was an entreaty, a request, an olive branch handed out on the off-chance Bradley wanted to pick up with him right where things had been left. Bradley grinned, that self-same look Jake had first seen all those weeks ago in that diner, with all the ease of someone who has the advantage of knowing what happens next.
“Baby, how could I ever forget?”