Chapter Text
In hindsight, Bradley realized there had been signs. Nothing obvious, of course—he’d never actually put the dots together before that night, but he probably could have if he’d really been paying attention. The first sign was that Bob didn’t drink. There could have been plenty of reasons for that, but most littles didn’t react well to alcohol even out of headspace. There was also the time he’d stopped by Slider’s house to pick something up for Ice, and he’d seen a pacifier left out on the coffee table. He knew Slider helped out with the ADC program and likely wouldn’t be able to talk about it for privacy reasons, so he didn’t mention it. Then there was Slider’s presence at the hospital after the bird strike, and again in the command room during the mission.
Everything had been so subtle and so well explained though, and no one on the team had ever questioned it. Bob hadn’t wanted them to know, so they didn’t. Slider and the ADC program functioned as intended to meet his needs while protecting his privacy.
As soon as they got back to Fightertown, everyone went straight to the Hard Deck. Rooster didn’t think any of the Daggers paid for a drink all night. The hours went by in a blur—dancing and singing and darts and pool and friends clapping him on the shoulder and hugging him and Mav looking at him like the sun shined out of his ass. Bradley had been exhausted when they got off the boat, but now he felt like he could go for days.
Later in the night—or morning, he honestly wasn’t sure—the activity of choice switched the karaoke. Only once they’d all screamed themselves hoarse did anyone suggest leaving the bar. The Dagger squad still didn’t want to separate though, so it became a question of who had enough space to fit the thirteen of them. Eventually, Mav volunteered Ice’s house, and Bob and Penny started shuttling everyone over.
There, they started splitting off into quieter activities. Yale, Harvard, Omaha, and Halo blew up two of the air mattresses and squeezed in together, asleep almost immediately. Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote went to the kitchen for snacks, and Ice quickly followed them to make sure they didn’t burn down his house when they decided to make quesadillas. The rest of them started up a game of Mario Kart. They had to take turns with the controllers though, and between rounds, Bradley found himself with an increasingly heavy weight on his shoulder as Bob tilted more and more horizontally.
“You asleep there, Bobby?” Rooster teased fondly.
“No, I’m good,” Bob mumbled. “I’m awake.”
Coyote brought him a plate with one of the quesadillas that had started coming out of the kitchen. Bradley took a bite, careful not to dislodge Bob from his shoulder.
“Hey, this is actually good,” Rooster said. “Here, try it.”
He held it up to Bob’s mouth, and Bob compliantly took a bite.
“Good, right?” Rooster said. Bob nodded against his shoulder, and Bradley held the quesadilla up for him to take another bite. “I know you haven’t been drinking, but you should still get some food in you too.”
They split about half of the quesadilla before Bob started to doze off. Bradley finished the rest, looking around the room as he ate. Bob wasn’t the only one falling asleep. Tom had gone to bed once they were out of the kitchen, and Maverick was asleep in his chair. Most of the others were scattered across the furniture and air mattresses, and Jake was face down in the floor.
“Hey,” Bradley whispered, lightly jostling Bob. “I don’t think anybody’s claimed the guest room yet. It’s a queen-size bed; we’ll both fit.”
“M’kay,” Bob mumbled.
He didn’t make any move to get up though. Instead, he slid even further sideways against Rooster’s side. Bradley laughed a little and stood from the couch, careful not to let Bob fall. He picked Bob up easily, surprised at how light the younger man was, and headed down the hall. He set him down on the bed, and Bob curled up on top of the covers, still fully dressed. He looked like he was already asleep, but he bolted upright when Bradley reached to turn the lights off.
“Wait,” Bob mumbled. “Gotta go.”
“Go where?”
Bob scowled adorably at his lack of understanding, like Bradley was being purposefully obtuse.
“Gotta go,” Bob whined.
“Oh, right,” Rooster said. “Let me show you where the bathroom is.”
Bradley walked him down the hall and flipped on the light inside the bathroom for him.
“Do you need help?” he asked, and Bob scowled at him again.
“By myself,” he said. “Privacy.”
Rooster laughed.
“Alright, just holler if you need me, kid,” he said.
Bob came back to the guestroom in his tee shirt and boxer shorts, carrying his jeans. He dropped the pants in the floor, carefully placed his glasses on the nightstand, and crawled back into bed. Three of the fingers on his left hand immediately ended up in his mouth, and Bradley had to coax him into actually getting under the blankets instead of just lying on top of them. Then, Rooster turned off the light and climbed in beside him. There was just enough light left in the room to see how cute Bob was, and Bradley was too tired and content to be surprised.
When he woke up the next day, it was already nearly one o’clock. Bob’s spot in bed beside him was empty, but Rooster quickly spotted him sitting in the desk chair across the room. Bob’s face was pinched and a little panicked, and he was watching Bradley owlishly.
“Uh… Bob?” he said. “You alri—”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Bob blurted. “I never drop like that. It’s just—it was the adrenaline crash from the mission, and I fell asleep on you, and you were feeding me by hand, and… I’m so careful about it, Bradley. I’d never let it affect my work, I swear.”
“Hey, you’re fine,” Rooster said. “It didn’t even cross my mind that it would affect your work. I know there’s lots of littles in the Navy who are great at what they do.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Bob said again.
“I swear,” Bradley said. “I won’t tell anyone you don’t want to know. Who all have you already told?”
Bob paused.
“No one,” he finally said. “I mean, Maverick knows because he’s my CO, and the med staff and the brass I guess.”
Now it was Bradley’s turn to just stare for a moment.
“Bob, who’s been taking care of you?” he asked.
“Slider,” Bob said. “He helps with the ADC program. He’s really nice.”
Bradley nodded, relieved. After a second, he remembered the pacifier he’d seen left out at Slider’s house.
“I just…” Bob continued. “I don’t want people to know. I know most people are fine about it now, but some people aren’t. If you have just a handful of people who won’t work with you or won’t take you seriously because they don’t think you can handle it, that’s enough to tank your whole career.”
“I understand,” Rooster said. “I won’t tell anyone. But maybe you could think about telling the team eventually? Mav’s waiting to tell everyone else until he knows for sure, but Ice is thinking about making us a permanent squad. It could be a good thing.”
“I’ll… think about it,” Bob said noncommittally.
“And I know Slider is great, but if you ever need someone, you’ve got me too, alright?” Bradley offered. “Now, want to go find some breakfast?”
Most of the team was still asleep in the living room. Phoenix was awake but still lying on an air mattress, playing on her phone, and she gave them a grunt in acknowledgement as they walked through. Pete had disappeared from where they last saw him, and Bradley would be willing to bet money that he’d woken up halfway through the night to the realization that he was too old to be sleeping in a La-Z-Boy and gone to bunk with Ice. Hangman, Fritz, and Halo were up and mobile though, and they already had something going in the kitchen.
“Hey, we were wondering where you two ended up,” Halo said when she spotted them.
“What are you making?” Bob asked, taking a seat on one of the kitchen stools and peering down at the stove.
“French toast,” Fritz answered. “We were hoping for pancake mix but no luck there, so we’re stealing all of Admiral Kazansky’s bread instead. He said there’s fruit in the freezer that we can use for smoothies too, but we were waiting for more people to wake up before we turned on the blender.”
“Probably smart,” Rooster agreed.
It would be a while before breakfast was ready, so Bob went back into the living room when Phoenix summoned him over with a wave. She scooted over to make room on the air mattress, and he laid down beside her, sharing the pillow so Phoenix could show him the game she was playing. Bradley tried not to make it obvious that he was watching them and pictured what the team would be like if Bob did decide to share his designation with them. Phoenix wasn’t even a caregiver, but the dynamic was already so natural. Rooster made himself look away before any of the others could catch him staring. It was an easy thing to want, but dwelling wouldn't make it real.