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This was one of Bradley’s favorite parts of coming back to Texas with Jake.
Don’t get him wrong—he loved every aspect of their time in the Lone Star State. He loved the way Jake’s accent became immediately more pronounced once they crossed over the state’s borders. He loved the way his body loosened as he took in that first inhale of the humid summer air. He loved the boyish grin that graced Jake’s face whenever he first locked eyes on his mother or sister.
But, most of all, Bradley loved when Jake took him line dancing.
The art of getting ready was an intricate ritual that Jake had been perfecting for years—and Bradley was all too happy to lounge back on the slightly-too-small bed, listening to the quiet crooning from the radio, and observe his boyfriend work his way around the room.
“Need anything, honey?”
Though he faced away from him, Bradley’s lips curled into a knowing smile as a flush crept its way up Jake’s neck. After more than a decade of knowing each other and being two and a half years out from the Mission, something delicate unfurled in Bradley’s chest everytime Jake blushed at an endearment.
Jake tugged on the dresser drawer harder, “Just looking for these damn pants. I swore I put them back in this drawer last time we were here.”
“Don’t—” Jake called over his shoulder as Bradley shifted on the bed, “I can find them myself, you stay there.”
Bradley snorted, “I’d never dream of interrupting you. You just let me know when you’re ready to go, princess.”
Jake turned to quickly stick his tongue out at his boyfriend, flipping him off in the process, before turning his attention back to his clothes. Bradley settled back against the pillows, taking back in the view.
The setting sunlight lit everything in the room a soft gold, leaving Jake looking every bit of Texas royalty that he acted. Out here, away from the stress of the Navy, the stress of being number one, and the stress of keeping his team alive , Jake looked younger as he continued to get ready for their evening out.
After (finally) finding the pair of straight-legged Wranglers, working just the right amount of product into his hair with an endearing amount of concentration, and pulling on his most loved boots and a well-loved Stetson, Jake declared he was ready.
After each pressing a brief kiss to Lottie’s cheek and Bradley promising to drive carefully, the boys were off into the night. Jake drove them to the bar, windows down and the radio turned all the way up. Singing along with his boyfriend to some ridiculously patriotic song, Bradley felt lighter than he had in months.
He reached over, carefully covering Jake’s hand that rested on the gear-shift. Green eyes met blue in the rearview mirror and Bradley tucked Jake’s soft smile into his breast pocket, keeping it close to his heart.
Once they arrived, Jake immediately disappeared into the crowd, expertly weaving his way towards the bar. Bradley took a deep breath, steadying his own nerves. Even two years later, he could still hear the hatred in the slur thrown at them and still felt sheer fear bubbling under his skin as Jake recklessly threw himself into that fight.
He started when something cold pressed against his arm. Jake had found his way back towards Bradley, an unreadable emotion clouding his eyes as he passed Bradley the beer bottle.
“All good?”
“Yeah,” Bradley took a deep swig of his beer. “Just reminiscing.”
Jake’s face scrunched in disgust, “If you’re thinking about that and not how great my ass looks in these jeans, something is wrong with you, Bradshaw.”
Bradley narrowly avoided spitting his beer out as he burst into laughter. Jake pointedly sipped his own drink, smirking wickedly around the straw.
“Why don’t you make your way to the dance floor and I’ll go grab us a table?”
Jake narrowed his eyes, “This better not be another excuse to avoid dancing. Because it’s been over two years, Rooster. You should know how to dance by now.”
Bradley took a step forward, wrapping a hand around Jake’s waist to lean in and murmur, “Maybe I want to watch you dance, Hangman. A little refresher, if you will.”
The blond pulled back, eyes flashing in the dim lighting. A smirk settled on his lips as he tipped his hat towards Bradley, “If the gentleman insists.”
Bradley greedily watched the line of his throat as Jake threw back the rest of his drink before handing the empty glass back. With a quick wink and a helluva lot of swagger, he strutted towards the dance floor, attracting stares from across the bar.
He slid into the line of dancers, easily moving to some country song that sounded vaguely familiar to Bradley. Leaning against the edge of a table, Bradley was quickly reminded of another reason why he loved to watch Jake line dance.
It’d been months since they were last in Texas but Jake’s movements were still just as sharp, if not sharper, than the dancers on the floor. After a childhood spent practicing the moves, the intricate steps and claps were second nature to him. Everything from his posture, his lazy smile, and the winks he kept sending to Bradley screamed arrogance.
And God, if that wasn’t the hottest thing to Bradley.
When the song changed, Jake raised his brows from under his hat, cocking his head towards Bradley with a tilt. Finishing the last dregs of the beer he was nursing, Bradley pushed his way towards the dance floor, fitting himself next to Jake.
“I don’t remember all of the steps,” Bradley shouted over the music, stumbling as he tried to follow what the man ahead of him was doing.
“Come on, Rooster,” Jake teased. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve gone dancing. Just follow the music.”
Sparing a glance to his left, Bradley rolled his eyes at Jake’s amusement. He muttered, “Easy for you to say,” as he tripped over his feet. Any hopes of Jake not noticing his missteps disappeared as a bright laugh rang over the music. Despite barely knowing what he was doing (and bumping into more than one person), Bradley found himself grinning the entire time.
After several songs (and another strong drink slammed by Jake), Bradley caught his eye and nodded towards the door, making his way towards the entrance without checking if his boyfriend was behind him. He pushed the door open, the warm evening air engulfing him immediately.
Bradley found his way to their truck, tucked away in a dark corner of the parking lot, and leaned against it as he waited. Echoes of laughter and music trickled into the night, keeping him company for the few minutes before Jake exited the building.
As soon as he was within reach, Bradley tugged at Jake’s belt buckle, pulling him into a searing kiss. If he was surprised, Jake kept it hidden. Instead, he pushed Bradley back against the car, hands dropping to grip his ass.
“You have—,” Bradley worked his way down Jake’s neck, dropping kisses and bites on the salty skin, “No idea how long I’ve wanted to do this tonight.”
Jake slid his knee in between Bradley’s leg, letting out a breathless laugh as Bradley moaned, “I think I have a bit of an idea, sweetheart.”
Bradley’s hips stuttered against his own volition, the pressure against his hard dick so delicious that he had to bite Jake’s shoulder to quiet the noise. Jake snaked a hand into Bradley’s curls, tugging until he pulled his head back.
Bradley’s pupils were blown black as he stared through a haze at Jake. He allowed himself to be pulled back into another heated kiss. Jake bit his bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, swallowing every little noise Bradley made.
Without breaking the kiss, Jake moved a hand off Bradley’s ass to sneak between them and cup Bradley’s dick. Between the fog of his own arousal and the heat of the night, Bradley’s knees slightly buckled.
“You tease,” He managed to hiss against Jake’s lips.
Suddenly his hands and lips were gone. Jake stepped back with a proud grin, bruises already blooming at the base of his neck. He carefully took the Stetson off his head and placed it on Bradley’s rumpled hair.
“Why don’t you take me home, cowboy, and I’ll stop teasing you.”
As they eagerly climbed into the truck, stealing kisses and touches, the only thought ringing in Bradley’s head was thank god for line dancing .