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Ghost slows his steps as he nears the showers at the back of the locker room. He can hear the water of at least one shower still running, but not the one he’d been using earlier when he hadn’t noticed the chain, that had been around his neck holding his dad’s ring, snapping and dropping it somewhere that he can only desperately hope isn’t down a drain. It sounds like there might be two people here. But there’s only the sound of one shower. Carefully ignoring the incongruity, he crouches down and uses the flashlight on his phone to search around under the wall dividers near the walls and around the drain grate. Just in time, as the sounds coming from the middle shower cubicle change, just enough to make him think that maybe finding his ring isn’t that important right now after all. The stifled moaning and rhythmic gasps actually making him think that maybe nothing is as important as high tailing it out of here right now. Then he hears a moaned ‘yes ’, followed promptly by shushing. And giggles. He stands up, fully intending to exit the locker room at speed, and promptly slips on the growing puddle of water flowing out of the occupied shower, tearing at the curtain in his effort to remain upright. Lieutenant Jacob Seresin’s eyes meet his over the shoulder of the man that has him pressed against the tiled shower wall, eyes wide and horrified. Ghost can’t tell who the the other man is, except for the distinct musk of ‘alpha’, until he raises his head and Ghost is met with an instantly identifiable moustache.
And the thing is he liked Seresin, enough to know that the rumours about him being a tease were mostly false, and the experience he did have with alphas wasn’t all that great. Most of the rest of the personell at Lemoor had been slower on the uptake; rumors flew faster than facts, and the size of the chip on the kid’s shoulder made him more enemies than friends. Not to mention the people still totting around antiquated attitudes about omegas. And the man, the alpha, currently naked in the shower with their only single omega squad member had recently come back from his stint as an instructor at Topgun, shiny winners plaque on display in his bunk. Lieutenant Bradshaw hadn’t been with them when Hangman had joined their squad, and when he’d come back to discover the newcomer in their midst, the tension between the two had been palpable. More than once, someone had caught the two around corners, in empty rooms (and once, memorably, in a broom closet) having what they both insisted were debates.
“Rooster.” He clears his throat, trying to project his harmlessness and lack of threat. “Hangman.” He nods a greeting, trying to ask with his eyebrows if he needs help, trying to shift his head to an angle where he can see the omega’s neck, just for his own peace of mind. He hadn’t liked the look in Hangman’s eyes. It’s gone now, of course, replaced by a blanks stare and smarm.
“You need something Ghost? Big Bird and I are a little - ghn - busy here.” He smack’s Rooster’s shoulder and hisses “quit moving!”
Rooster laughs. Hangman moans. Ghost wants to die.
Then Rooster leans forward, pressing Hangman even more firmly into the wall and says “Be nice Hangy, Ghost here is just looking out for you. Wouldn’t want the big bad alpha taking advantage now, would we?” He shuts the water off.
“Oh, like you could!” Hangman kicks him. Ghost thinks it would be more effective if he didn’t have his knee hiked up over Rooster’s hip. “What were you snooping around here for anyway?” Hangman’s focus is back on him. “Rooster here seemed certain we’d be dead last out.”
“Of course I was sure, I checked.” Rooster sounds indignant.
“What, like you checked the locks on that closet?”
“I told you that was Phoenix! She’s sneaky!”
“Do you honestly think there is anyone on this planet who knows that better than me?” He levels an unimpressed expression against Rooster. “I’m just saying you could have tried a little harder.” And he shrugs, nonchalant.
“Well excuse me if I’m not out here attempting the impossible. I know my limits, unlike someone .” It’s like they don’t know they’re both naked. Or they’ve forgotten he’s here. A hysterial thought occurs to him that Rooster may still be inside Hangman.
“Nah, you just don’t wanna push it anymore Roo Roo, you got all hesitant on me.” Hangman pouts. Ghost strains very hard to forget the word ‘coquettish’ which just popped into his head.
“It’s not like that!” Rooster insists. “I - you all stopped calling.” The words are quiet, and hesitant. They sound like a plea.
“You stopped first Roo.” Hangman is caressing Rooster’s face, like they’re having a moment . They’ve definitely forgotten he’s here.
“I always picked up.” Rooster protests.
“But you never called . We all - they - Ma thought you probably didn’t wanna talk, ‘nd he didn’t wanna bother you.”
“Oh.”
He must make some kind of noise, both of their heads snap back to him.
“Uhm, right. I just.” he forces himself not to fidget. “Are you okay, Hangman?” And the little shit laughs.
“Yeah Ghost, I’m fine. Not that I don’t appreciate it, really, but Bradley here’d never hurt me. He’s coming home to my folks’ for thanksgiving and all.”
“What?”
“Yes you are, don’t you dare fight it. My mother has been aching to have you home for ages, and would you really deny my Ma something that’ll make him happy?”
“But Iceman doesn’t want me there-”
“Yes he does! Pop’s missed you too!”
“But I upset Mav!”
“So you say you’re sorry, and you come home. Doofus.” Hangman cuffs Rooster lightly over the back of the head, immediately tangling his fingers in Roosters hair and soothing over the spot.
Ghost stands blinking away stupefaction because did they really? Do those names imply what he thinks they imply? Is Hangman… Admiral Kazansky’s son ? Holy Shit. Rooster has balls of steel, Ghost wouldn’t mess with Kazansky’s kid for anything! The Admiral had freaky eyes man, they followed you.
“Were you looking for something?” Hangman is speaking to him again, “you’re dressed.”
“Yeah, I, uh.” Oh god. Nothing for it. Might as well. It’s probably his last good chance to find it anyway. “Either of you see a ring before you… started?”
He was not expecting Hangman to light up with excitement. “Oh yeah! Is it yours?” He smacks Rooster’s arm again, “Brad, Brad, Brad, have you still got it?”
Rooster is chuckling again. “Yes! Calm down you hyper child, I’ve got it.” He reaches above their heads and unloops something from the shower head. It jingles like dog tags. There’s more fiddling, and a couple of slaps when Hangman reaches out to help and his fingers get in the way. Then Rooster is twisting around, eliciting another sound from Hangman, and holding out his father’s ring. Ghost doesn’t quite stop himself from snatching it.
“Thank you.” His relief feels like his bones are melting. “It was my dad’s.”
“Yeh.” Rooster grunts, “I keep mine with me too.” He turns back to Hangman, who has started shivering. Ghost books it.
He doesn’t quite make it to the end of the lockers before Rooster’s voice reaches him again, raised in consternation.
“What do you mean we can't drive?” and then, just as he reaches the door “Bosnia?” Ghost is never going too ask.