Work Text:
Jake’s hand shook as it wavered uncertainly above Bradley’s door.
Jake Seresin avoided uncertainty, as a general rule. Even if he felt it, the emotion often found itself shoved deep down, swallowed. Uncertainty didn’t get you results, it didn’t help you out, and it certainly didn’t make you the Navy’s top aviator.
Not that that’s Jake, anyway. Maverick’s call made that abundantly clear.
Still, despite what the rest of the TOPGUN callbacks were convinced that they knew, Jake was not concerned with being number one in this mission. He could certainly understand why they didn’t see that, why they wouldn’t believe him even if he said it out loud. His track record, long and illustrious as it is, did not speak to his side. Even so, Jake’s focus remained firmly fixed on something other than winning the glory this mission would bring if it was successful.
The unknowing recipient of his focus being right on the other side of the door he wavered in front of.
“Fuck…” Jake hissed out, under his breath as he failed to knock for the 5th minute in a row. His nails carved crescents into his skin and his neck was getting warm under his collar. It was late enough that he should have been in bed, resting for the Big Day tomorrow. It was certainly late enough that Bradley, the star of the show, should have been in bed for hours.
Jake hoped he wasn’t.
If Jake had been anyone but himself he would have given up. Turned tail, tucked himself into his microscopic bunk, and stared at the ceiling for the next 4 hours. But, and frequently to his own detriment, he was Jake Seresin.
He knocked on the door.
Somehow, in the oppressive silence of the hallway the knock felt ear-splittingly loud. Jake sweated as he felt it reverberate out into the night, painting a massive sign on his back that yelled “LOOK WHO ISN’T HACKING IT!”
Instead of every door swinging open and Jake being laughed at by the entire squad like he somehow expected, just the one door opened up. Standing in the dim hall and faced with a rumpled Bradley Bradshaw effectively took all the wind out of Jake’s sails. This was saying very little, however, as in that moment Jake had nothing more than a pathetic breeze. His throat was dry and he knew he would have to clear it before he could speak. But even before he could do so, Bradley took the initiative.
“Hangman?” He asked incredulously, voice thick from disuse but not, Jake noted, sleep-addled. “What are you doing here?”
And wasn’t that just the million dollar question?
Jake shifted his weight from foot to foot in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety. If he had something in his hands he would be wringing it. He felt the sinking feeling in his stomach that comes from finding one’s self on the precipice of a terrible mistake and his throat tightened.
“Can I come in?” Is what he settled on, eventually. He forced himself to meet Bradley’s eyes, to salvage a shred of dignity.
Bradley just stepped out of the doorway and backwards into his dark room. As Jake crossed the threshold the other man flipped the harsh overhead light on and left Jake to close the door himself. He did so, and focused all his attention on minimising the noise in an attempt to steady himself before looking at Bradley again. As far as distractions went it was lousy, and within 10 seconds Jake found himself trapped again under Bradley’s heavy gaze.
Jake opened his mouth with no real plan and decided to succumb to truth.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted, inelegantly. The words were bitter and foreign on his tongue. “For that shit about your dad, and your flying, and your moustache. I’m sorry for being such a colossal dick to you. I-” Jake’s voice broke here, mortifyingly. “I was worried. I am. Worried. Still. I’m worried.”
His chest heaved from the force with which he expelled those words and he very seriously considered running out the door. The unreadable look in Bradley’s eyes told him that his escape to his own room a whopping 4 doors down would not stop whatever conversation was about to take place. Bradley crossed his arms across his broad chest, though in thought not antagonism. He worked a hand across his jaw and Jake could basically hear the gears turning in his head. The silence as he formulated his response felt like nails on a chalkboard.
“Okay.” He began. “Alright, you mentioning my dad was cruel, even for you. It’s not okay, and I don’t know if I can forgive you right now.” His mouth was a tense line. “I appreciate the apology, though.” Was tacked on at the end.
Bradley ran a hand through his unstyled hair and blew out a harsh sigh. He walked the short distance to his bed and sat down, one socked foot pulled up beside him. He looked over expectantly, and so Jake walked jerkily over and settled in at the foot of the bed. He felt like it would explode if he rested his weight fully on it.
Bradley began again. “Why are you worried?”
Jake felt like he was drowning. How could Bradley not know? This felt like Jake was balanced on the edge of a cliff and he could either walk calmly back to the trail or hurl himself onto the crashing rocks below. As he looked into Bradley’s drooping eyes he knew he couldn’t allow himself cowardice anymore.
“Because you’re you, Bradley! Because tomorrow you’re going on a suicide mission! Because I have to tell you that I love you in case you don’t live forever!” Jake wanted to reach out and grab the other man, wanted to feel the heat of his skin and hear the blood that rushed underneath. He wanted proof of life. He wanted to believe that this time tomorrow that life would still be here.
He didn’t articulate that yearning, but Bradley seemed to get it. He somehow always did. Where Jake couldn’t appropriately respond to a genuine social cue for the life of him, Bradley never faltered. Jake had watched countless one-armed hugs and fist bumps and genuine smiles handed out to everyone else, locked in place with jealousy.
To be on the receiving end of Bradley’s gentle hands as they tugged him forward and into a crushing embrace melted right into Jake’s bones. The hug was fierce and bordering on painful for his ribs and it was exactly what Jake had needed. He gripped the thin cotton of Bradley’s sleepshirt and held on. He could feel his chest heaving in time with Bradley’s and the corners of his eyes pricked.
Jake almost whimpered as Bradley’s arms tightened impossibly around him when a tear slid down his cheek and onto Bradley’s tanned neck. He hadn’t been hugged like this in far too long.
Jake couldn’t tell how long they clung to each other. At some point he could feel his breathing evening out but the ferocity with which they held on didn’t waver. It wasn’t until Jake was scared his lungs may burst if he didn’t get a full breath that he pulled back, but Rooster grabbed his bicep before he could fully exit his space.
Jake met his eyes and saw they were wild.
“Me too, Jake.” He croaked, and it was only then that Jake noticed glistening tear tracks down Bradley’s cheeks. “I love you, too. I’m going to come back for you tomorrow. I have to.”
Jake felt his head spinning. “How can you promise that, Bradley? How can you tell me that when we both know how many miracles tomorrow needs?” Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks and if he didn’t feel like his heart was being wrenched open he would marvel at the ease with which he was crying.
“I wanted to vomit when you were flying the practice courses too slowly. I stayed up losing my mind about you not making it in time and being shot down. I was so worried I threw your fucking dad in your face to try and spur you into action. I’m still sick to my stomach over you flying this mission, but it’s not even about your skills anymore, Bradley.” Jake tried to swallow around the huge lump in his throat. “This mission is death. For someone. And I don’t think I could handle it if it was you.”
Bradley didn’t argue and the truth of Jake’s words hung oppressively in the air. Bradley sucked in a breath and cupped Jake’s cheek.
“I know, Jake. I know it’s suicide. But I’m going to make it back, you know why?” He tilted his head, and his eyes looked into Jake’s imploringly. “I’m going to land safely back on deck because if anything goes wrong, I have you as my spare.”
Jake surged forwards and crushed their mouths together because if he didn’t he would have wailed.
He mapped Bradley out, licking and biting and kissing like it was his only chance. His hands tangled in curly hair and pulled Bradley’s head back. He kissed across his cheeks, his scars, down his neck. He sucked a bruise into Bradley’s neck, purposefully above the collar and soothed it with his tongue. Bradley yanked him back up by his hair and Jake whined in sheer desperation to be closer to him. He devoured Bradley with hands and mouth, pressing impossibly closer. He trembled with the intimacy of it, with the delirious knowledge that he got to have Bradley like this.
In a pause for breath Bradley forced Jake’s gaze to meet his own squarely, big hands bracketed around Jake’s ears. “I fucking meant it, Jake. I trust you up there. Together we’ll get everyone home.”
Jake felt himself believing it as he looked into Bradley’s endlessly deep eyes. He burrowed himself back into the crook of his neck, no answer necessary.
Eventually, Bradley got up to flick the light off. Jake pushed himself as far into the wall as he could go in the tiny military bunk. Bradley curled around him and pulled Jake’s head onto his chest. They clung onto each other once more, but this time for security rather than survival.
Jake closed his eyes and focused on the pumping of Bradley’s heart underneath his head. The soft carding of Bradley’s fingers through his short hair. In a few hours they would be awake. In a few more hours Bradley would be on this mission and Jake would be rotting away in his plane. And, Jake told himself sternly, in a few more hours they would be back together, on the carrier, in each other’s arms, safe.
“I love you.” Jake whispered into the dark.
Bradley found his mouth and pressed a painfully tender kiss onto it. “I love you too, Jake. More than you’ll ever wrap your head around.”