Work Text:
Save Me From Myself
The porch swing moved gently as you sat on it with your feet tucked under you, the history book off to the side open to the assignment you were working on. Your earbuds were tucked into your ears, playing music from your discman as you enjoyed the last throes of summer. It was your favorite time of year, still warm enough to wear shorts and tank tops during the day, with the crisp fall air sweeping in at night off the ocean.
Setting the pen and notebook down on your lap, you reached for the glass of iced tea on the table beside you and took a long sip, looking out at the sky as the sun started to set. You swept your hair off the back of your neck and put it into a messy bun, giving you some relief from the late summer humidity and you set back to finishing your assignment when you heard the sound of raised voices coming from inside your house over your music.
You took one of your earbuds out in order to hear what was going on just as the louder of the two voices came closer to the front door. “You’re not my fucking dad, so just let me live my life!”
“I never said I was your dad, but I am your guardian until you turn 18, and this is my house, so you will follow my rules.” As the words left his mouth, you sighed, understanding that while your uncle was trying to lower the temperature of the situation, it was only going to upset him further.
“Fuck you, Commander.”
The words came out as a growl, and before you heard any response from your uncle, your best friend of nearly ten years burst through the front door, practically jumping off the porch on the way to his father’s old Ford Bronco that was parked in the driveway.
Throwing your notebook and headphones down, you grabbed your flip flops and caught up to him just as he ripped the door to the truck open. “Bradley, wait,” you said, resting a gentle hand on his forearm before he could climb in. You glanced back at the door to your house to see your uncle standing just inside the screen door still dressed in his khaki uniform, having just gotten home from work. He looked between the two of you briefly before turning away and moving deeper into the house, hoping you would have better luck at calming him down. “What happened?”
His chest was heaving and he ran his right hand through his wavy hair as he shook his head. “Maverick’s an asshole,” he muttered, gently shaking your hand off his arm.
“He’s just worried about you. He promised your mom he’d keep you safe, you know that,” you tried, tucking your hands into the back pockets of your cutoff shorts. You knew what he had been up to, hanging out with the wrong crowd all summer, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him too.
“It’s not his job,” Bradley sighed, turning away from you and sliding into the driver’s seat of his truck before starting it up, the engine roaring to life. “I can’t be here right now. If you want to come with me you can, but I’m leaving.”
Looking back to the house again with a sigh, you nodded and moved around to the passenger side of the truck, sliding into the front seat beside him. You wanted to talk more, but he was still radiating anger and you knew that driving would calm him some. The conversation could wait until you got to your destination, unless he wanted to talk before then.
Bradley Bradshaw had been your best friend since you moved to Virginia Beach to live with your uncle, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, when you were eight years old. Your parents, his brother and sister-in-law, had died in a car accident and wanted him to take custody of you in their will. Maverick was very close with Bradley’s mother, Carole, ever since his father, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, had died in a training exercise when Bradley was only two.
He helped raise the boy in his friend’s absence as much as he was able, given the frequent deployments and special detachments he was sent on. It was even more challenging once you came to live with him a few years later, but fortunately Carole stepped up and you routinely stayed with her and Bradley when Maverick was away, even going so far as having your own room at their house.
You dropped your flip flops to the floorboard of the truck and pulled your legs up to sit cross legged on the passenger seat, glancing over to Bradley on occasion as he drove further away from the house. Things had been tense since Carole died in March and Bradley had been slowly spiraling further and further out of control, unable to deal with the loss. Your uncle had tried getting him into counseling after he came to live with you, but he refused to go, choosing instead to start drinking and smoking pot. He had even quit playing baseball, something he had done for as long as you had known him. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, losing his dad so young and now losing his mom too. In some twisted way it made you feel fortunate that you lost both your parents at once.
His hand was resting on the shifter, and when you noticed that his grip on it had loosened, a sad smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You didn’t like seeing him upset, and lately it seemed he was looking to self-destruct, pushing everything and everyone he loved away.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice much calmer than it had been at the house as he looked over at you, bringing the truck to a stop in a parking lot beside his favorite beach.
You shook your head and looked up into his hazel eyes. “Just worrying about you.”
He rolled his eyes and shoved the car door open with a grunt, climbing out of the cab and heading toward the beach. You got out and followed him, the long strides that matched his 6’1” frame forcing you to jog to catch up. When he finally spoke, you could hear the frustration in his voice returning despite his attempts to hide it. “You don’t have to worry about me. No one does. I’m fine. I just want to get on with my life.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to burn it to the ground.” The statement made him stop and turn to face you. His large hand ran through his hair as he sighed, opening his mouth to speak when you stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t. You quit baseball, you don’t come to school half the time, you’re drinking, smoking… what are you doing, B?”
You challenged him, and it was his favorite thing about you. He was silent for a long moment, the two of you staring each other down, before he finally sighed and sat down on the sand, looking out at the ocean as the sun began to set. “I don’t know,” he said, resting his forearms on his knees. “I want to get out of here, away from Virginia Beach.”
“Then why don’t you just do it right? You’re at the top of your class, and right now you’re throwing it all away. Graduate, enjoy your senior year.” You sat beside him on the sand, leaning over to bump his shoulder with your own as your voice softened. “That’s what your mom wanted, for you to have a normal life. That’s all Uncle Pete wants too.”
You could tell by the wry chuckle he gave that he didn’t believe you, or your read on your uncle. “Maverick doesn’t give a shit about me,” he said, his deep voice quiet against the sound of the waves on the beach.
“That’s not true, Bradley,” you scolded, shifting to your knees and facing him, forcing eye contact by taking his hands in yours. “If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t say anything to you at all. He’d let you destroy yourself.”
He locked eyes with you, silently challenging your statement before finally releasing a sigh, shaking his head as he looked away. You reclaimed your position beside him and you both stared at the ocean in silence for a long time, until the last remnants of the day’s light dipped below the horizon. You shivered as the wind picked up, your bare arms and legs reminding you that you didn’t bring a sweater.
Bradley didn’t hesitate in taking his hoodie off and pulling it over your head before standing and dusting the sand from his jeans. He offered a hand to help you up and when you stood he couldn’t help but chuckle at how big the sweatshirt was on you. “Been a while since we’ve worn the same size I guess,” he teased, watching you push the sleeves up to expose your hands as you rolled your eyes, though there was a smile on your lips. “Wanna walk down the pier?”
“What time is it?” you asked, watching as he checked his wrist where he wore his dad’s old watch.
“Just after 7,” he replied, his biceps flexing as he stretched out after sitting for so long. He was a sight to behold, even wearing something as simple as jeans and a t-shirt.
A Varsity baseball player since his Freshman year, he had always been in good shape, and it was hard to not appreciate it. Even though he hadn’t played since last season he was still well toned, most of the time he was forced to be at home was spent in their garage working out. Girls were constantly all over him, and while he appreciated the attention he had been in a relationship up until his mom passed, when his change in behavior led to a breakup.
“Sure, we can walk down the pier,” you smiled up at him, unable to ignore the warmth that ran through you when he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and led you toward it.
He smelled like sandalwood and salt water, a scent that was familiar and made you feel safe. The two of you had practically been raised as siblings, and until recently you had never considered anything more than a friendship with Bradley. Puberty had changed that, at least for you, but his girlfriend and the chance that it could ruin your friendship forever had prevented you from making a move.
Even now, you didn’t say anything, knowing that there was a delicate balance within him. You didn’t want to push him over the ledge he was teetering on, but to pull him back onto solid ground if he would let you.
It was a relaxed walk down the beach, and by the time you reached the pier, there were only a few people left watching the ocean under the dim lights. You were both quiet as you made your way to the end of the pier, tucked into Bradley’s side by his arm that was still wrapped around your shoulder.
The sea breeze tousled your hair as you leaned against the pier’s railing, gazing out at the dark expanse that was the Atlantic Ocean. The sound of waves crashing against the pilings filled the silence between you as you stood shoulder to shoulder, each of you trying to find the right words.
Your name passed his lips first, and as he spoke his eyes remained on the ocean in front of you. “You’ve always been there for me, Dimples, even when I don’t deserve it, like these past few months. I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate that.”
A smile formed at his words and you rested your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to say it, Brad. We’re family, remember? That’s what family does.”
He remained still for a moment before shifting to face you slowly, giving you time to lift your head. Hazel eyes caught yours in a soft gaze before dropping to your lips briefly. He had been attracted to you for a couple of years, but thought you were off limits due to Maverick, who kept you both on a tight leash. But you understood he was still dealing with the losses of his best friend and his brother, all while trying to raise their children into functioning adults.
“You’re supposed to be looking at the water, not me,” you teased, feeling self conscious as his eyes roamed over you.
Bradley smiled, his large hand reaching for yours and lacing your fingers together. “You’re better to look at.”
You bit your lip and looked away, feeling the heat in your cheeks rising. Before you could say anything else, his fingers tipped your chin up and his lips were against yours in a tender kiss. His confident demeanor made an appearance when he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss continued, soft and slow.
When you finally parted, you couldn’t help but search his eyes, looking for any sign of regret. Instead he shook his head, seemingly reading your mind as he stroked your cheek with the hand that wasn’t resting on the small of your back. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. You’re a good kisser.”
“It was my first time,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed. As the bookworm to Bradley's social butterfly, you were content to stay home, reading or watching a movie, rather than going out. As a result, you had never been on a date, let alone kissed someone.
“Then you’re a natural.” He leaned in and kissed you again, briefly. “Is this something you want?”
Your heart raced as you met Bradley's eyes, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. "Yes," you whispered, your voice filled with uncertainty and longing. "I want this, Brad, if you do."
He grinned, his eyes lighting up with happiness. "Of course I do, Dimples. We only have this moment once. The present moment.”
“The present moment,” you repeated, chuckling when he hummed in affirmation. “So what do you suggest we do to harness this present moment?”
He didn’t hesitate to kiss you again in response to your question, resting his forehead against yours. “I know Mav might give us shit, but I want to make this work."
You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart full with emotion. "We'll figure it out together."