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"Hey, kiddo!" Mav said when Rooster sidled up to the table his godfather had claimed for them at The Hard Deck, still looking down at his phone, where Rooster was sure he was texting Ice. Rooster was grateful for the only three seconds of normal conversation he was bound to receive for the entire night, so he simply hummed in greeting and slid into the booth across from Mav.
"Hey," he replied.
Mav smiled, hit send on whatever he was writing, and placed his phone down on the table. "So, how are yo-"
There it was: the shoe dropped, and so did Mav's jaw. He didn’t say anything for a worrying number of seconds as he stared up at Rooster.
Rooster laughed awkwardly. "Do I have something on my face?"
Mav didn’t laugh. "What happened?"
Rooster shrugged. "Got distracted, razor slipped. No big deal."
"No big- Rooster you look like you're sixteen again."
Rooster was almost one hundred percent certain that was an exaggeration. "Gee, thanks for that Mav."
“I’m sorry, it’s just…a surprise.”
Rooster just shrugged. “Happy to provide. Were you texting Ice? Don’t tell me he can’t make it.”
“Oh no, don’t worry. He’ll make it, he just might be late. It’s been a long day, he and Cyclone had some stuff go down with Cain regarding the next TOPGUN class. Thankfully, I was not a part of that meeting.”
“For your sake?”
“More like his,” Mav muttered, muffling it in his glass as he took a drink of his water. Rooster grinned and reached for his own water from the selection at the center of the table that Mav had already picked up.
“Well look what we have here! The men of the hour, howdy fellas,” Hangman announced his presence in classic fashion and slid into the booth next to Rooster, Coyote sliding in next to Maverick with a soft “yo”.
“Hey, Hangman,” Rooster said, and honestly would have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way Coyote’s mouth opened soundlessly.
“What’s wrong, Coyote? Cat got your—“ Hangman turned to look at Rooster and share a smirk but trailed off when he took notice of the current state of affairs. He swallowed convulsively…and that was when it all went sideways.
“Hangman what the—“
“Rooster do the heimlich!”
“No, Hangman! Don’t reach for the water!”
And then, a few seconds later: “I’m cool…I’m cool,” Hangman said through a couple of coughs to clear his airway. “Rooster, can you please put your face back.”
“It’s not a big deal!” Rooster exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
“Not a big deal?” Coyote yelled back, but the edges of his mouth were twitching. “You almost killed Hangman!”
“He did that himself!” Rooster said. “And besides—“
“Boys, boys,” Maverick interrupted, shoulders shaking a little bit as he muffled his giggles now that the initial situation had been contained, “Let’s calm down a little. Besides…did you see Jake’s face!”
Rooster lost it, then, and Jake pouted sullenly in the booth. “Sure, sure,” he muttered. “Rooster needs to put his face back before someone else gets hurt.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Rooster complained. “You guys are just dramatic.”
“Maybe, so, Rooster, but you almost killed me! That should be illegal!”
“Did you just call me hot, Hangman?” Rooster grinned, as Coyote and Maverick watched the exchange like it was the Wimbledon finals.
“No, I said it’s illegal to look that ugly.”
“Real mature, Hangman. I guess I’ve rendered you speechless for once, huh? Maybe I should keep my face the way it is.”
“No!” And Hangman’s voice wasn’t the only one that was raised in protest. Rooster looked over and Coyote and Maverick looked distraught as well.
Rooster buried his head in his hands. “I swear you guys, it’s not that serious.”
“Baby goose, if you don’t want to kill Ice, I think you need to do something about this,” Maverick said. “Anyone got a pen or something? We should draw–”
“No!” Rooster yelled, scrabbling backward in the booth as Hangman pulled an eyeliner pencil from nowhere and advanced towards him. “Where did you even get that!”
“I always have it. For emergencies.”
“Yo, guys! What’s happening? Did we make a new friend?” Fanboy’s cheery greeting interrupted whatever retort Rooster was going to give. They all stared at him incredulously and had the (dubious, in Rooster’s opinion) delight of seeing the lightbulb happen in real-time. “Wait…Rooster?”
“Who else!” Rooster cried, throwing his hands in the air. “You guys are killing me!”
“We’re killing you?” Hangman complained, and okay, Rooster thought. That was fair.
“Better get used to it, Gosling,” Mav chuckled, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “This is just going to keep happening unless you let us draw the fake ‘stache.”
Rooster groaned and thunked his head down on the table. “I should have stayed home.”
“Aw, Rooster, don’t be that way!” Fanboy said, but it was for naught. Though Rooster did slide further into the booth to make room for people, he didn’t look up from where his forehead pressed into the table.
“What’s wrong with Rooster?” Bob asked, Phoenix and Payback arriving right behind him.
“Just leave me here to die,” Rooster answered.
“He accidentally shaved the ‘stache,” Fanboy explained. “He looks like a twelve-year-old.”
Phoenix cackled, squeezing past everyone to sit next to Rooster inside the booth and knock her shoulder into his. “Come on, Roo, don’t be like that. Show me the damage.”
He looked up, grimacing, and her grin widened.
“Wow. Now this takes me back to the Academy. I forgot how baby-faced you were.”
“He takes after his old man.” They all looked up at the gravelly rumble that came from the head of the table, finding Iceman standing there, hands in his pockets. “Took Goose forever to lose the guileless look, not to mention how Mav looked fresh out of high school when we were at TOPGUN.”
“Hey!” Mav protested. “Chicks dug it.”
Ice raised an eyebrow. “Sure, Mav. Maybe they just felt bad for you.”
Mav crossed his arms and grumbled, but slid over to make room for his husband anyway.
“Pops, you literally can’t argue with Iceman,” Hangman said. “We’ve all seen your class photo. I’m surprised you didn’t get IDed trying to buy booze.”
“Thanks,” Mav replied, dry.
“So, Bradley,” Ice asked, mouth twitching. “How’d it happen?”
“I got distracted. That’s it, period the end! It could happen to anyone!” Rooster moaned. Phoenix muffled another laugh and pulled him into her shoulder, like the good best friend she was.
“Sorry I asked,” Ice said. “Just…be ready to explain yourself again, I think I saw Harvard, Yale, and Omaha in the parking lot, which means Halo and Fritz aren’t far behind.”
Rooster’s only answer was a muffled grumble.
“What's that, Roo?” Hangman teased. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
“I said I’ll take the eyeliner pencil now,” Rooster repeated. “Don’t make me say it again.”
The whole table exploded with laughter, and Hangman handed it over with a flourish and a snigger. “Alright everyone, first round is on Rooster for the painful image he’s given us, who wants what?”
“Hey! Who said you could—“
Hangman just shrugged and danced out of reach from Rooster’s swiping arm, “Oh, Penny m’dear!” He called, winking at Rooster and then cackling as he made his way to the bartop. “It’s time to get this party started!”
