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1996 - The Mitchell-Kazansky Residence
“Hey, Uncle Mav?” Bradley crept up on the man who was currently trying his best to make them dinner. Bradley thinks he can smell pasta sauce, but also burning something, so he’s not really sure. They’ll probably end up ordering take out. That’s what they usually do when Uncle Tom isn’t around.
Maverick stumbled and uttered out a curse word before turning around.
“What can I do for ya, baby bird?” Mav asked, holding his hand tightly. He must have burnt it by accident. Bradley winced and hoped that it didn’t hurt too bad. Knowing how Mav was he would power through it no matter how badly it hurt anyways.
Bradley didn’t know how to say what he wanted. Especially as he was standing in front of Maverick. He looked down at Bradley like he was the most important thing in the world, and honestly it scared Brad sometimes. He didn’t ever want to make Maverick upset. He was the only family he had left.
“Baby bird?” Mav asked, letting his hand drop in favor of placing it gently on Bradley’s shoulder.
“Nevermind, it was stupid,” Brad murmured, trying to turn tail out of the kitchen, but of course, Mav wouldn’t let that slide.
“Hey, hey, no.” Maverick argued. “Talk to me, Brad.”
Bradley took a deep breath. He knew that what he was about to ask could make Maverick upset. He knew that the result could also make himself upset. But it was killing him inside the longer he waited.
“I was wondering if we could go down to the storage unit,” Bradley mumbled, looking down at his sneaker clad feet. “To look at some of Ma and Pa’s stuff,” he finished.
Maverick was silent, the hand that was on his shoulder squeezed gently.
“Of course we can,” Maverick said softly.
When Bradley looked back up at him he had a small smile on his face, it looked a little bit sad but Brad couldn’t tell. He was relieved that Mav had said yes. He was afraid that it would be too soon, too upsetting. It’s been two years since his mom had died, it was a long and painful process. Bradley’s not sure he’s completely processed it, at least as much as a 12 year old could have. But now he’s 14, going into high school, and he wants to remember his parent’s a little better. He thinks this might be good for both himself and Maverick.
“Oh shit!” Maverick shouts right as the first beep of the smoke alarm goes off and they start to see smoke filtering throughout the kitchen.
. . .
It’s almost three weeks later when Maverick finds the time to take Bradley into the city to the storage unit Ice had bought once they moved Bradley out to San Diego. Bradley’s leg is bouncing up and down the entire ride there. Uncle Tom stayed home, claiming he had paperwork he needed to fill out, but Brad knew it was because he didn’t want to intrude on Mav and his time there. He overheard them talking about it before they left. Mav and Ice hugged for a long time before he let Mav go. He kissed them both on the forehead and sent them off.
Maybe that was for the best. If Bradley gets emotional he really doesn’t want Ice to see it. Not that he thinks he would be harsh or judgemental, he’s not honestly sure why. Maybe it’s just his demeanor.
The unit was only about 40 minutes away, but it felt like a lifetime. The entire journey there was silent other than the radio. Bradley just kept his eyes on the passing buildings and cars. He rarely went into the city, he didn’t like all the noise. He’d much rather stay at home with his uncles, whenever one or both of them happened to be home at the same time. More often than not Ice was home, Maverick getting sent off somewhere.
It suddenly felt cold as Bradley hopped out of the car that Mav borrowed from Ice. Ice had to practically beg Mav to take his car rather than one of his bikes. He didn’t want Bradley riding on the back of it no matter how many times Bradley said he would be fine. In the end Mav agreed that it would be safer to take the shiny black BMW even though he thought it made him look ‘douchey’.
Maverick stepped around to the other side of the car to unlock the unit. He pulled the sliding garage door up and both of them just stared for a moment. There really wasn’t much. Just a lot of boxes and a blue truck that Bradley never remembers seeing. It looked old and there was a layer of dust that covered the pale blue paint. Bradley found himself walking toward it and running one of his fingers through the dust. It needed a paint job, but Bradley thought it was kinda cool.
“You’ll get her, one day,” Mav said, appearing next to him. Bradley glanced up at him before back to the truck. “Your dad…” Mav started, “He really wanted to teach you to drive in this,” Maverick laughed but it was watery. He ran his hand over the hood. “Your mom thought he was crazy.” Mav mumbled.
Bradley doesn’t remember his dad. He was only four when his father never came home. He only had the memories that his mom and Mav told him. Brad briefly wonders if his dad was still alive if he’d be teaching him how to drive already. Maybe he’d have taken him flying already too. But Bradley was getting ahead of himself.
“Will you teach me how to drive sometime, Mav?” Brad’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Before Bradley could process what was happening he was being pulled into a tight hug. Some air was punched out of his lungs at the impact, but he quickly hugged back.
“Yeah, of course I will, Baby Bird,” Maverick replied. Even though Bradley couldn’t see him, his face shoved into Mav’s shoulder, he could tell that the man was crying. Brad could feel tears start to well in his own eyes. He may not be able to say it yet, but Maverick is his dad, he has been the dad that Bradley will always remember. And he wants his dad to be able to teach him how to drive, that’s what his biological father wanted, and Brad thinks that he would be okay with this.
They stayed like that for a few minutes before Maverick pulled away with a smile and ruffled Bradleys brown curls. Brad smacked his hands away trying and failing to push his hair back into place. Mav just chuckled and started moving around the unit looking at different things.
Bradley walked over to a box labeled Goose in scratchy handwriting that he recognized as Mavericks. His handwriting still hasn’t improved, when he signs Brad's school documents they thought that he was faking them, so he started asking Uncle Tom to sign them instead. Bradley opened the box and was immediately met with bright colors. Different floral fabrics he pulled out realizing that they were bold Hawaiian button ups. What the hell did his dad wear?!
He continued going through the box finding that some of them were actually pretty cool. He took his backpack off and set it down on one of the boxes beside him before tossing some of the shirts into it. He got near the bottom of the box and found a blue button up with a tacky island and fish print. As he lifted it from the box he was met with a weird sense of deja vu. He remembers sitting with Maverick at a piano, singing Jerry Lee Lewis. Bradley looked at the shirt in confusion before tossing it into the bag with the others and shutting the box.
The next box he opened was labeled Carol in Ice’s neat script. He opened up and was once again met with floral prints. But these were on long flowing skirts. Skirts of different styles, some longer than others. Bradley hesitantly reached into the box to run his hands over the smooth fabrics. They were beautiful. Bradley looked around the room and found Mav standing towards the back of the unit looking in another box. He grabbed a skirt from the box and quickly shoved it into his backpack before closing the box.
He doesn’t really know why he grabbed it. It was just so pretty. Something drew him to it. Made him feel like he needed to take it with him. He shook off the feeling and walked over to Mav who started showing him a box full of pictures and telling him different stories about his parents.
. . .
Bradley lets that backpack sit in his closet for a couple months before he opens it again. He turned 15 last month. Mav and Uncle Tom took him out to the desert, they watched the jets fly by and ate lunch. Bradley feels so safe with them. He loves them as his own parents. But he doesn’t let himself think about that too often, still afraid of somehow hurting his mom, or replacing her.
Mav finally promised that now that he’s 15 he would take Bradley out to learn how to drive once they had the time. Bradley stared at the backpack in his closet. He felt like his eyes could burn holes into it if he stared any longer. He finally got up from his bed and picked the bag up off of the floor. He unzipped it and dumped the contents out of the bag and onto his bed.
Obnoxious prints and bold colors spilled out across his dark green bedding. He ran his hands along the fabrics once again. There was something about having these that made him feel closer to his parents. Like they were still here, still a part of him.
Brad grabbed one of the button ups and put it on over his t-shirt. It smelled like cologne, a scent that was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place. The shirt was too big on him. Bradley was still a gangly 15 year old with no muscle. Although he finally has reached his last growth spurt where he shot up taller than Mav. Brad shrugged the shirt off a little sadly, maybe one day he’ll be able to wear them.
Brad’s eyes get caught on the shimmery material of his mothers skirt that laid in the pile. He once again hesitantly reached out and picked it up. He remembers seeing his mom in this one. She would wear it to church on sundays. It was long, white, and had small pink flowers spread across the fabric.
Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him when he steps into the skirt and pulls it up over his shorts. It was a little tight, but fit decently well. The length hit just above his ankles. He turned around to look in his mirror and gasped at the sight. He didn’t look… ridiculous. He looked pretty.
Pretty?
That was a word that Bradley has never used to describe himself. But it felt good.
“Brad! Ice is making dinner tonight, do you know what you-”
Bradley barely processed his bedroom door being opened before Maverick strolled in. Bradley whipped around, his face heated with embarrassment.
“MAV!” Brad shouted. “What happened to knocking on the door!?”
Maverick stood stock still. His hand was still on the doorknob. His eyes were staring at what Bradley was wearing. God, maybe he did look ridiculous!
“Is that Caroles?” Maverick asked, looking back up at Brad.
The man didn’t look angry. More shocked, maybe? Seeing his son in his dead moms skirt. Bradley just nodded in response.
“Looks good on you, birdie.” Maverick settled after mulling it over for a moment.
Birdie. Bradley turned to look at himself once again. It did look good on him. He felt something powerful with the name and the femininity.
“Sorry about the door.” Mav apologized after a moment.
Bradley just shrugged and thought about starting to lock it. But he didn’t want to freak Uncle Tom and Mav out. He just needs his damn privacy. But at this time he was kinda glad Mav walked in. He felt validated. Like this was okay.
“You know, you can tell me anything.” Mav said, stepping further into the room to look at Brad through the mirror.
Bradley rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Mav, I know.”
Bradley grew up being taught that it was okay to be exactly who you are, unapologetically. Unless you were in the Navy, in which case don’t ask and absolutely don’t tell. But maybe by the time Bradley joins that’ll be different. He knows how hard it is for Mav and Uncle Tom to pretend to be roommates and co-parents on paper. But when they’re in the privacy of their own home they are as domestic and as loving (and bickering) as they come.
Mav nodded after waiting a couple moments to see if Bradley would say anything. Bradley knows he likes boys, but he also likes girls. He doesn’t feel the need to tell Mav anything yet.
“So did you have anything in mind for Ice to make?” Mav asked.
. . .
After that day when Mav caught him in Carole’s skirt, Mav went out and bought Bradley some skirts of his own. Ones that would fit him better. Bradley wore them around the house and on little trips he and Mav would take.
He didn’t have the balls to wear them to school or anything yet. But when he did them he felt like he was on top of the world. Sometimes he would wear them with baggy t-shirts, other times he’d wear them with a crop top. Either way he felt so pretty.
Today was the day that Mav was planning on taking Bradley out driving. Bradley pulled on a long flowy maroon skirt and a white crop top. He ruffled his hair in the mirror, his curls still refusing to be tamed. He just rolled his eyes and pulled on his converse, officially giving up on his hair.
Bradley walked out into the living room. Ice was sitting on the couch, glasses perched on his nose as he read the daily paper.
When Bradley first started wearing the skirts he was a little scared of how Ice would react. He was so masculine and stern all of the time. But he barely batted an eye when Bradley first wore one outside of his bedroom.
“He’s waiting for you, outside,” Uncle Tom said, not looking up from the paper. As Bradley opened the door Ice added, “The red looks good, by the way.”
Brad smiled to himself before skipping out onto the front porch and making his way towards the bronco. He stopped once he saw Mav leaning up against the truck. It was shiny. A brand new coat of paint. New lights and handles. Holy shit! Bradley ran up to the truck and started inspecting it. Even the seats were redone. Mav had completely restored it.
“Holy shit, Mav!” Bradley said as he ran his hands along the interior. “You fully restored her!”
Mav laughed and pushed his aviators to the top of his head. He hummed in response, letting Bradley check out his new ride.
“She’s gorgeous!” Bradley stated, still in awe.
“Let me get a picture of you with your new car!” Mav said, shuffling ahead so he could get a good shot.
Brad shook his head, but didn’t complain. It somehow felt like it’s what his dad would have wanted. He stood in front of the bronco, threw up a rock sign, and put on his brightest smile.
. . .
2023 - The Hard Deck
Bradley was sipping on his second beer of the night, sitting on one of the chairs near the pool table. He’s been watching Seresin wipe the floor with everyone all night. It was amusing. Nat got pretty close at one point, but even she lost.
Bradley stood up and walked over to the grinning blonde, having scored himself another victory.
“Maybe you should give someone else a shot, sweetheart,” Brad said, stepping up beside Jake. The blonde just smirked and leaned against his cue.
“Did you want a round, honey?” Jake smirked, tilting his head.
It became a thing, they went from Rooster and Hangman to Honey and Sweetheart. It was a quick transition when Brad thinks about it. After the mission Jake apologized for pushing Bradley in all the wrong ways, and Bradley apologized for being a straight laced asshat. It wasn’t hard for them to fall into a close friendship. Jake wasn’t all that bad once you got on his good side.
The flirting was new though. Brad has been attracted to Seresin since he first saw the guy, albeit a little less so when he opened his mouth for the first time. But he didn’t really know if Jake had the same attraction or if he was just teasing. The man flirts with everyone, Brad couldn’t tell what was real. Maybe that was for the best. What they have is good.
“No, but I’m sure the whole bar is tired of your gloating,” Bradley responded. “And they’re all losing money betting against you,” He added with a wink.
“Ah, but not you, huh?” Jake said, leaning towards Bradley and into his space. “Always bettin’ on me, honey?”
Bradley rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree. He doesn’t play in any of the bets. Mostly because he knows Jake, and he’d rather not steal money from innocent people who don’t. But if he did, he’d always bet on the blonde.
“You really shouldn’t be going through that!” Bob’s voice cut through their moment and stole Brad’s curiosity. He turned towards the commotion.
“C’mon, I’m just curious, I’m not gonna take anything!” Coyote retorted.
A few of The Daggers were crowded around Coyote, looking down at something. Bradley looked at Jake, they held eye contact for a moment before Jake nodded towards the group and Brad followed him.
“Is that Admiral Kazansky?!” Phoenix shouted, shock and giddiness laced in her voice.
Bradley peaked over her shoulder. She was holding a small polaroid of a younger looking Iceman smiling up at the camera. Bradley looked over at Coyote to see where he got that from. He was holding Mav’s wallet. Why the fuck would they go through that? How does Mav keep losing his shit all the time?
“There’s another one,” Coyote started, pulling out another small polaroid that was tucked into the wallet. The man stared down at the photo with his brows furrowed.
“What is it?” Phoenix asked, trying to look over at it.
Coyote looked up at Bradley and then back down at the photo.
Bob leaned over to look at the picture and his face went a little pink. What the hell was it? Bradley snatched the photo out of the other pilot's hand to look at it. His fingers gripped the photo just a little bit tighter as he saw it.
There he was, almost two decades ago leaning up against his Bronco, his hair long and curling against his ears, crop top short and cut right under his chest, and his long red skirt flowing against the wind. 'Birdie '96' was scrawled under the photo. He forgot this picture was taken. He can’t believe Mav kept it all these years.
“Oh,” He heard from behind him. Jake was peering over his shoulder, looking down at the polaroid in his hands. "Birdie." Jake barely whispered it but it still sent a shiver down Brad's spine. He hasn't been called that in years.
Bradley snatched Maverick’s wallet out of Coyote's hands and put the polaroids back into the slots in the back of the wallet before shoving it into his back pocket. He’d give it back to Mav later.
“Didn’t know you wore stuff like that, Bradshaw,” Coyote said. There wasn’t a mocking tone in his voice, but Brad felt slightly defensive either way.
“Well, there’s not much time to wear that stuff when deployed,” He tried to joke but it came out nervous and it didn’t land.
“We’re on leave now, you should wear whatever you want,” Phoenix said with a smile as she clapped him on the shoulder.
Bradley glanced over at Jake who didn’t say anything. Everyone pretty much moved on after that. Bradley hasn’t worn a skirt since High School. Once Mav pulled his papers he just fell into anger, the clothes didn’t make him feel good anymore. He felt completely and utterly alone.
. . .
Bradley couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't stop thinking about the way he used to feel when he wore skirts. How confident and free he used to feel. So he found himself ordering a couple online and hoping to hell they would fit.
He found a package outside his door a week after what happened at The Hard Deck. He quickly brought it inside and ripped it open. He stuck to the basics for his reintroduction. He bought a black one and a navy blue one. Both the same length and style, flowy, floor length (or ankle length on Bradley) and slightly pleated at the waist band. He pulled them out of the package and hesitantly pulled the Navy one on whilst he stood in front of his mirror. He tossed his shirt to the side and just stared at his waist.
He chuckled at the sight a bit. He looked a little ridiculous. A 210 lbs man in a skirt. But he also looked… pretty. In a much different way than he used to. Bradley tilted his head to the side, his hair is a bit longer than regulation, and he wants it to be longer. He twists his hips and watches as the skirt flows around him. He laughs to himself. He used to spend hours just spinning in his skirts. He remembers when he wore a dress to a school dance for the first time, he got some weird looks, but honestly most people didn’t care. And the ladies really liked it so Bradley didn’t care about the looks he got.
There’s a knock at his front door and it pulls Bradley out of his memories. He wasn’t expecting anybody. He pulls on a hoodie and walks out to open the door.
“Oh hey, Mav,” Bradley greets the man.
“I know you’ve got plans tonight, but Ice and I wanted to bring you something,” Maverick said quickly. Bradley quirked an eyebrow and looked behind Maverick. Iceman stood a few paces away, leaning against the benz and simply watching. He turned his attention back to Maverick. Mav thrusts a box forward into Bradley’s hands. It’s small and wooden, there’s nothing really special about it. He flips it around in his hands and see’s a small carving of a goose in the corner. Bradley looks up at Mav waiting for an explanation.
“It was your mothers. I should have given it to you sooner…” Mav looks away for a second, ashamed. “I found it a while back, after going through that old storage unit again. It was after you already… moved out,” Mav said with a pained expression.
His mothers? Bradley carefully flipped up the latch on the box and found different delicate pieces of jewelry laid out in the plush at the bottom of the box. They were beautiful. All gold. There were earrings, small hoops, diamond studs, and there were a few dainty gold chain necklaces.
“Mav… This is-'' Bradley wants to say that it’s too much. That he can’t accept it. But, it is his already isn’t it? Bradley trails his fingers along the chains, they’re cold to the touch.
“Can I put one on you?” Mav asks. Bradley looks up at him, tearing his gaze away from the box. Mav looked so hopeful. Bradley nodded slowly and Mav broke out into a huge grin. He pulled one of the necklaces out of the box, it didn’t have any charms on it, but it was beautiful.
“Your father always said your mother looked best in golds, and I think you inherited that from her,” Mav explained as he unclipped the chain and motioned for Bradley to turn around. “In fact, I think most of these were gifts from Nick.” Mav laughed.
As Maverick finished clasping the chain around Bradley’s neck he brushed his hands along his shoulders. Bradley missed this. He missed this intimacy. He spent so long away from his dads. He could have had this so much sooner. He quickly turned around and pulled Mav up and against him in a tight hug. The shorter man groaned in surprise but hugged back just as tight. Bradley wouldn’t let himself cry, he wouldn’t.
“I love you, dad,” Bradley said quietly into Mav’s shoulder.
They pulled apart and Mav clapped him on the shoulder.
“I love you too, son,” Mav said, his eyes a bit watery, but the tears stayed in his waterline.
That might have done Bradley over. Being called ‘son’ again. But he didn’t let it. He knew Mav would call him again, and they could somehow repair what they’ve lost and make something new. Bradley looked past Mav again and saw Ice with a fond expression still standing where he was. He couldn’t let the man just stand there when he knew that he’s the one who probably convinced Mav to drive out here.
He walked over to the man and paused in front of him. Ice was never a talker, especially after his first round of cancer, but even before then. He and Bradley had formed their own type of communication. Ice held his arms open and Bradley immediately fell into them. He curled into the soft fabric of Ice’s sweater.
“I love you, pops,” Bradley whispered into the fabric. He wouldn’t have been able to tell if the older man heard him if not for the tight squeeze he got in response. He didn’t speak for the most part at all now. It hurt him to talk, and Bradley didn’t expect him to say it back. They pulled apart from each other.
“The blue looks good, by the way,” Ice said in a quiet, rough voice.
And there it is. Bradley didn’t even try to hide the tears that fell. He pulled Ice back against him and cried directly into his shoulder.
. . .
Bradley showed up to Natasha’s house a little bit later than he intended to. He needed time for his eyes to stop being puffy. He also needed to take a pair of scissors to one of his Eagles t-shirts. He cut right below the black and white logo, when he put the top back on it ended right under his pecs. He popped in the gold hoops from his moms jewelry box.
“Ooh, Bradshaw!” Natasha whistled as Bradley walked through the door. “If I weren’t into girls, I would definitely be into you,” She laughed as Bradley stepped further into her house.
Bradley blushed as he felt all the eyes in the room turn towards him. The rest of the Daggers were already here and they were all staring at him. Bob had a flush across his cheeks as his eyes trailed up and down Bradley’s body, Payback tipped his beer up at him as he pulled Mickey into his side by his waist, and Coyote winked.
“Well, Rooster, I can confirm that you still rock a skirt.” Coyote said as he clapped his hand on his shoulder. Bradley smiled widely. He noticed movement in the corner of his eye and he saw Jake leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. He was glaring, for lack of better word daggers, at him. He lifted an eyebrow at the man, waiting for him to say something snarky but the blonde remained silent. Weird.
“Go grab a beer, stay a while. We’re about to put on Pretty Woman,” Natasha said.
Bradley nodded and started to make his way to the kitchen. But to get to the kitchen he had to pass his seemingly upset former rival.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Bradley said grinning, trying to ease the tension as he stopped in front of the man. Jake didn’t say anything, he just gave Bradley a once over and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. Bradley furrowed his eyebrows as he walked away. The fuck was his problem?
Bradley grabbed a beer out of the fridge before joining his friends in Nat’s living room. He walked past Jake without a second glance and plopped down on the couch next to Bob. He wasn’t going to let Jake’s shitty mood affect how good he felt tonight.
About halfway through the movie Bradley felt eyes glowering at him again. He glanced to his left and saw Jake, who was now sitting in one of the loveseats by Coyote, staring at him once again. He gave him a look to ask, ‘what the hell?’ but the man just looked back at the screen.
Bradley can’t think of something he may have done to piss Jake off. The only thing he’s done differently tonight is, hold on. Is he pissed about what Bradley’s wearing?! Bradley stood up abruptly which shocked Bob who was leaning against his shoulder. Everyone looked up at the sudden movement.
“Sorry, just need some air,” Bradley said and walked out through the kitchen and to the back porch.
Why would Jake be so upset about a stupid skirt?! They have been doing so good the last few months, is this really what’s going to put them back in their old ways? Well, fuck that. If Jake’s gonna be an asshole, that’s not Brad’s problem.
The door opened behind Bradley a short minute later. He spun around his skirt flipping around his ankles. Jake stood by the door, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Bradshaw,” Jake started, he wasn’t even making eye contact with him.
“Don’t,” Bradley cut in, “Don’t fucking call me Bradshaw. You haven’t called me that in months!” Brad exclaimed, his arms coming up to cross against his chest. Jake’s eyes flitted to the stretch of skin between Bradley’s top and the waistband of his skirt.
“Honey,” Jake said, his eyes finally meeting Bradley’s own.
“You ignore me all night, give me the cold shoulder because what? I decided to dress a little differently?” Bradley asked, stepping up.
Jake looked confused and opened his mouth to speak.
“You know, I didn’t think you were one of those guys, Jake. It’s the 21st century, I can wear whatever the fuck I want!” Bradley pressed.
Jake’s hands came out of his pockets.
“Bradley, that’s not-” Jake looked him up and down once more, “I think you look beautiful.”
Bradley blushed, and his stance faltered.
“What?” He asked, his arms dropping down to his sides. “Then why have you been avoiding me?” He needed to know.
Jake was hesitating. He seemed to be trying to figure out what to say, which was weird because he only ever said what was on his mind.
“Brad-” Jake shook his head, starting over: “Honey,” He said instead, and took a step forward. “I’m sorry for making you think I was upset with your clothing choice, you look absolutely stunning,” Jake breathed out.
Jake took another tentative step forward, reaching out slowly and placing one of his hands on Bradley’s arm.
“I didn’t want to do something stupid,” Jake whispered.
“What?”
“You look so fucking pretty, Bradshaw, I was avoiding you so I didn’t do something stupid like kiss you,” Jake rushed out.
Pretty. Hearing that word utter out of Jake’s mouth made Bradley light up internally.
“You want to kiss me?” Bradley asked slowly, as if he might have heard Jake wrong.
“Of course I do, dumbass. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months,” Jake admitted.
Bradley wasn’t a fool. So he did what apparently both of them have been wanting to do. He pulled Jake in by his collar and pressed their lips together. It wasn’t rushed or aggressive, it was slow and sweet. Jake placed both of his hands on Bradley’s bare waist, sending a shiver up the taller man's spine. After a few moments they pulled apart.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not an asshole,” Bradley laughed and Jake looked down ashamed. “Although, next time, tell me you want kiss me instead of glaring at me,”
Jake rolled his eyes but pulled Bradley in closer by his hips.
“Can I kiss you, honey?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, you can,”
And he does.