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Jake knows, rationally, that this is the best possible outcome of the mission, but still, it doesn’t feel real.
Good Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts and return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions, and prepare for landing.
It doesn’t feel good to have another confirmed kill, and it definitely doesn’t feel good to watch his husband do whatever dance that was when he was sharing a handshake and smile with Rooster. Adrenaline does strange things to a man.
It’s over, though, and after he steps away from Rooster, letting Phoenix step in again, Bob immediately drops the silly dance and stares in Jake’s eyes.
“You did it, Jake,” Bob says, leaving all pretense of call signs behind. No one can hear them anyway.
“Robert,” Jake breathes, and in the next moment, he’s wrapping his arms tight around Bob, pressing his nose into Bob’s neck. “You did it. You completed the mission.”
Bob turns into Jake, pressing his face into Jake’s hair, not caring about the sweat that inevitably gathers there when flying. They’re both aviators and long-accustomed to this. “And you saved Rooster and Mav. How do you feel?”
“Tired,” Jake admits. “But probably not as much as you. If you’re not feeling it now, I’m sure you’ll be feeling this mission tomorrow.”
“For now, I feel good,” Bob says, shrugging and lightly displacing Jake’s head before Jake presses close once more. “I made it home to you—everyone made it home.”
Jake pulls back slightly and presses his forehead to Bob’s. “Robert, if I could ask you to marry me all over again, I would do it in a heartbeat.”
“Jacob,” Bob breathes. “You’re such a sap. You know vow renewal ceremonies are a thing? You could marry me again if you want.”
“Well, fuck,” Jake says. “Robert Floyd, will you marry me? Again?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Bob says laughing lightly, echoing what he said the first time Jake proposed. Bob had known about the ring for weeks because Jake had somehow forgotten that they shared a sock drawer, so hiding the ring in there wasn’t exactly stealthy. Bob found himself waiting and waiting and waiting for Jake to ask, feeling only slightly exasperated when Jake finally worked up the courage. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from teasing Jake about it at the time, not after waiting for as long as he did.
Jake cups Bob’s face in his hands and closes his eyes. He wants to kiss Bob here, on deck, but between lingering sentiments even after the repeal of DADT and the fact that they’re quite literally coworkers on this mission, it just doesn’t feel right. Instead, he steps away, trailing his fingers along Bob’s cheek, before fully separating.
Bob’s eyebrows scrunch together briefly, the hint of a grimace, but his face promptly smooths back out, as he’s equally aware of the situation. As it is, they’re lucky that everyone is preoccupied with congratulating Rooster and Mav on making it back alive. Despite saving them, Jake is a bit of an afterthought, and Bob’s always flown under the radar.
Nonetheless, Jake looks over at the celebration, and to his surprise, he finds Phoenix staring at him. Her face is tight, scrutinizing, and he thinks back to the hospital, when she found him and Bob.
His attention is pulled away though, when someone shakes his shoulder. It’s one of the communications staff. “Lieutenant Seresin, there’s someone on the phone for you. He’s quite insistent.”
“Who would be calling me now, of all times?” Jake asks, furrowing his brows.
“The Admiral. Please follow me.” Technically Cyclone is also an admiral, but they all know that he’s not talking about Admiral Simpson. The Admiral.
Jake complies, but not before squeezing Bob’s hand once, a quick goodbye. He walks into the tower, and he’s led up the steps to where Cyclone and Warlock and both standing on the bridge, overlooking the celebration on the flight deck. Cyclone and Warlock are watching him carefully, curious as to what the Admiral wants with him.
The communications staff directs him to a satellite phone in the corner. “Here—he’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks,” Jake says quietly. He glances over at the two watching him before picking up the phone. “Admiral.”
“Jacob,” the Admiral says evenly. “Good work. I heard about that save of yours.”
“That was fast,” Jake comments.
The Admiral laughs. “These things are reported to me immediately. Sort of comes with the job.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jake snorts. “You called me on an aircraft carrier to tell me good work?”
“No,” the Admiral says seriously. “I called to check in on you. You’ve got another confirmed kill. That makes two, now. Are you okay?”
Jake turns his back to his superiors, learning more into the phone. “It’s a lot,” he admits. “I will be okay, though. Besides, Robert’s here this time around.”
The Admiral hums. “I always liked Robert. Marrying him was probably the smartest thing you’ve ever done, even if it took you two months to work up the nerve to propose.”
“He told you about that?” Jake hissed into the phone. “Stop talking to my husband behind my back.”
“Bring him to dinner when you get back, and maybe I’ll consider it,” the Admiral counters. “Now get back to celebrating your successful mission.”
“You’re the one who called me, Dad,” Jake groans. “I’ll call you when we’re stateside.”
“Good,” the Admiral says. “Remember, Jake: you saved two lives today. You may have taken one, but you’re the reason that Mav and Rooster get to come home alive. I love you, son.”
Jake closes his eyes and smiles. “I love you too, you big old softie. Imagine if the Navy found out how sappy the COMPACFLT is.”
“Goodbye, Jacob,” the Admiral says firmly, promptly hanging up.
Jake holds the phone away from his face, staring at it for a moment. He rolls his eyes and puts the phone back. When he turns around, both Cyclone and Warlock are openly gaping at him. “Can I, uh, help you two? Sirs?”
Cyclone sighs heavily, scrubbing his hand over his face. “No, Lieutenant. You are dismissed. Go enjoy the festivities.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake says, saluting before leaving. Of course his dad would call him on an aircraft carrier to check on him. It’s like this hovering is his own way of making up for assuming Jake would be fine the last time he had a confirmed air-to-air kill.
He returns to join everyone back on the flight deck, although the revelry has died down some as folks begin returning to their positions to bring the ship back to port.
“Everything okay?” Bob asks Jake when he returns to Bob’s side, close, but not quite touching.
“Yeah,” Jake says. “Dad just called to check in, see how I’m doing.”
Bob elbows Jake fondly. “He’s just looking out for you.”
“He’s hovering,” Jake insists, rolling his eyes. “But it’s fine. He worries about me. He wants you to come around for dinner when we get back, though.”
“That’s a good idea,” Bob says. “Actually—”
He’s cut off by Rooster leaning in. “Where did you run off to, Hangman?”
“Had to take a call,” Jake says lightly, giving Rooster’s shoulder a friendly shove.
“Wait, really?” Rooster asks, eyebrows raising. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Jake says, shrugging it off. “The Admiral wanted to talk.”
“Iceman? Why’d he want to talk to you?” Rooster asks.
Jake’s eye twitches. “Who knows? Maybe I’m just that good.”
“Anyway,” Bob cuts in, firmness disguised as casual, “Why don’t we go below deck. I hear folks are gathering in the mess. Something about a cake?”
Jake shoots an appreciative look at Bob and is met with a fond smile. His husband really is the best. Jake’s serious about marrying him again. He wonders how his dad would feel walking him down the aisle for a second wedding and if he’ll cry again.
There’s a table set aside for the Dagger Squad in the mess, and Phoenix and the rest are already there, waiting for them. Maverick has been sat at the head of the table, and someone found a birthday hat somewhere and stuck it on his head. His smile is pained, and Jake can’t tell if it’s from getting blown up or the party.
Phoenix has saved a seat for Bob, and she waves him over. Bob grabs Jake’s hand and tugs him over with him, and there ends up being a little bit of shuffling as Fanboy ends up moving to sit on the other side of the table so the two of them can sit together.
Jake pretends he doesn’t notice all of them looking at him and Bob, who seem glued at the hip out of nowhere. Phoenix seems largely nonplussed, but she did also only save a seat for Bob. Coyote looks like he’s going to burst a blood vessel with the way he’s trying not to laugh.
“So uh—” Coyote disguises a snort as a cough, “What’s with the two of you? Since when were you and Bob so friendly?”
Figures his own best friend can’t leave well enough alone. Maverick is looking between Coyote and where Jake and Bob are sitting, his gaze calculating. Maverick likes to play a reckless fool, but he’s sharper than people give him credit for. Usually.
“How long has this been going on?” Maverick asks at last, gesturing between Bob and Jake. “Since the bird strike?”
Understanding dawns on Rooster’s face, and he turns to look at them. “Holy shit, guys, really?”
“No,” Jake says honestly. He looks at Bob, who gives him a small nod. Bob is smiling, probably because he’s saved from doing the explaining and also probably because the mission is over and the need for discretion has passed.
“No?” Rooster asks, leaning in. “So this is new new?”
“Also no,” Jake says. Bob starts giggling next to him, and Jake shoots him a look.
Maverick leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He narrows his eyes at them. “So how long has this been going on?”
“Married for six years, together for seven,” Jake says smugly, wrapping an arm around Bob’s shoulders.
“Seven and a half,” Bob corrects.
Jake grimaces. “Wasn’t sure if you were counting that thing at the Naval Academy.”
Bob rolls his eyes. “You were gone for me even then, so yeah, I’m counting it.”
“Fair enough,” Jake says, pulling Bob closer.
“You’re telling me that not only is Hangman married, but he's been married for six years to you? ” Rooster asks, voice laced with incredulity. “Hangman, the incurable flirt, is married?”
“I know,” Phoenix says, taking a sip of her drink. “Surprised me, too.”
Rooster whips around to face Phoenix. “You know, too? Who else here knows?”
“I was Jake’s best man,” Coyote asks, raising his hand tentatively. “So I’ve known the whole time.”
“Wait, so what was with acting like you two didn’t even know each other at the Hard Deck?” Fanboy asks. “You even said that Bob had no sense of humor.”
“Well,” Jake starts, “I thought it was a good joke.”
“It was a bad pun,” Bob says, interrupting him. “Jake and I don’t usually work together, but that was the approach we both chose for the mission. Professional at work, and well…”
“Over the moon in love at home,” Jake finishes for him, earning an elbow to the ribs for being so cheesy.
Bob sighs heavily and looks up at the ceiling. “God help me, but I love this man.”
Jake puffs his chest out with pride. He’s the one who married Bob, not anyone else. “What a wedding it was. Dad walked me down the aisle in his full dress blues, so the two of us side by side had my mom torn between laughing at how similar we looked and crying because of how happy she was.”
“The entire Seresin family are criers,” Bob says conspiratorially to the table. “This one is no exception.”
“Not my dad, though,” Jake corrects. “He’s not a Seresin.”
“True,” Bob concedes. “But, Jake, remember—the motorcycle with the aviators.”
Jake groans, reminded of his dad’s bet with his mom. He mimes zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key.
“Good boy,” Bob says quietly, patting Jake on the cheek. He turns to face the table, to see most of them gaping at him. “Uh, guys?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Phoenix says, waving him off. “Even knowing it, it’s still strange to see you two like this. It’s basically a whole 180 from the mission. Hell, Bob, you even called him Bagman.”
“I made it up to him,” Bob says, smirking. Jake mirrors his smirk, and then ducks the balled-up napkin that Phoenix throws at him.
“Okay, okay,” Maverick says, getting everyone’s attention. “Bob and Hangman are married. Anyone else have any life-shattering announcements to get out of the way before I report to med bay with this slice of cake?”
“I’m gay?” Fanboy says tentatively.
Maverick pats him on the shoulder. “I said life-shattering. This is the Navy. Very well, all of you get some rest. Rooster, you come with me—I’m pretty sure Ice is already going to be mad enough that I’ve delayed getting checked out this long. I swear, he has eyes everywhere.”
“He does,” Jake says under his breath, just loud enough for Rooster to hear and shoot him a confused look before following Maverick out the mess.
“So, Bob,” Phoenix says casually, leaning in. “What’s it like being married to Bagman?”
“Jacob is a very good husband,” Bob tells her. “Very good at his husbandly duties. Obnoxious about his cast-iron pan though.”
“It has to be washed a specific way!”
“Anyway,” Bob continues, grabbing Jake’s hand and squeezing it fondly. “He’s my best friend and favorite person in the world. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.”
“Now who’s being cheesy?” Jake teases, knocking his shoulder against Bob’s.
“Still you. I’m just answering Phoenix’s question. Not cheesy if it’s the truth.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jake says. “Anyone else got any questions?”
Everyone raises their hand.
Bob pats Jake’s shoulder and gets up to get cake for the both of them. “You asked them; you get to answer.”