Archive of Our Own ^beta

The last thing Jake expected when he agreed to go out that night was for Bradshaw to storm across the room and kiss him.

The first thought that rolled through Jake’s mind was that the prickle of a mustache was not as bad as he had always assumed. His male partners had always been as clean-shaven as he was, and it had been, at least until that moment, a fact that had summarily been disproven. The second, and more pressing thought, was if someone had a camera out and filming because this had to be a fucking prank. He and Bradshaw were on better terms, yes, but they were now stepping over the bar and not trying to limbo anywhere, but the bar was still firmly in hell. 

Jake opened his mouth, then he closed it again, aware of eyes on them, the confused silence that followed. He opened his mouth again, trying to get confused thoughts into order before he rubbed a hand over his face, feeling a little bit weird that Bradshaw had just kissed him and was looking at Jake like he expected something, which was a bit fucked because now Jake was wondering if he had missed something.

The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the tentative peace between the daggers since they had all gotten assigned together. It was a good detachment, and it was good for his career, and he would be damned if he fucked it up. Jake didn’t know how he missed Bradshaw falling in love with him, or whatever was happening, and he knew it was about to get awkward, but he wasn’t going to lie about it. Even if finding the right words was becoming difficult.

“The fuck?” Jake finally settled on, not really sure there was an easy way to deal with this, especially in front of everyone, and he needed to get that out because seriously, what the fuck.

Bradshaw frowned at him. “Hello….”

“Hi?” Jake replied, waiting for Bradley to say something else. But he kept silent, still staring at Jake, expecting something, so all Jake could do was talk.

 “Look, man…I’m flattered, but you’re not my type—” Jake stumbled over his words as he watched something in Bradley’s face fall and he scrambled to continue, “—not the gay…thing, I’ve…had boyfriends so it’s not homophobia, but uh, look—"

Bradshaw made a loud noise, cutting Jake off midsentence, which was probably a good thing because his brain was still scrambling to do this nicely and not hit Bradshaw with the ‘thanks but not interested’ he usually went with. His hands waved in the air at himself, and then at Jake, and then at himself again before making another, more irritated noise before his shoulders slumped, dejected.

“Look, I’m not gonna hold whatever it is you’re…feeling against you,” Jake said, trying to be diplomatic. People couldn’t help their feelings, even if he didn’t know what the fuck Bradshaw was in the middle of smoking to get to this point.

Something else flashed across Bradshaw’s face before he shook his head, waving his hands in the front of him and shaking his head, nose wrinkling so now all Jake felt was offended.

“The fuck,” Jake repeated, glancing around the table, thankful they all looked as confused as he felt. At least they all agreed Bradshaw was being weird. “Are you having a stroke?”

“Bradshaw!” Phoenix cut through the crowd, glaring at Bradley and taking one look around the stunned silence in the group before she dropped her head into her hands and let out a long sigh as she massaged her forehead. “Bradshaw got cursed.”

Silence for a moment before everyone started laughing, and Bradshaw stood there, hands on his hips and glaring around at everyone, trying to get them to stop. Even Jake chuckled, some of the tension in his chest releasing as he settled back in the chair and reached for the bottle of beer to wash away the taste of whatever cinnamon gum Bradshaw apparently chewed. Which wasn’t the worst taste, but Jake sure as shit didn’t need to deal with that now.

“How?” Halo demanded, eyeing Bradshaw like he might be lying.

“Sienna,” Nat said, dropping into one of the empty chairs as Bradshaw threw his arms up again. “She thought they were serious, Bradley did not, and Bradley had a date last night with someone not named Sienna.”

The chorus of ohhhh’s was loud, and Bradshaw crossed his arms, huffing.

“So, what, he’s silent?” Jake asked, having an inkling of what was going on and why Bradshaw had kissed him, but he was still wary of the entire situation since he didn’t know what was going through Bradshaw’s mind, and it was still hard to think, especially since his upper lip was still prickling.

“Yep. Can’t even fuckin’ write or text or anything.” Nat’s face split into a wide grin. “He can only sing.”

The beat of silence was even longer before questions started being hurled at Bradley, all of them in an attempt to get Bradshaw to talk, but his arms were still crossed, and he was still glaring around the group. Jake took another sip of beer and watched, content to be left out of this dog-and-pony show.

“Is that why you kissed Hangman?” Yale asked, bringing the attention back to Jake, the asshole. “Since when do you love him?”

Jake grimaced, suddenly feeling awkward on a whole new level. “Look—,” he said, rubbing a hand over his forehead, not wanting to kick a man when he was down but…

“I hate everything about you.”

They all knew what Bradshaw sounded like when he was singing; the man loved a crowd more than Jake did, and that was saying something. So, the voice wasn’t a surprise, but the song was, and Jake stared at him, frowning for a second as Bradley waved his hands toward Jake and then back at himself, and he finally got it.

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Man, I don’t hate you. You pissed me off, but hate? Nah. Those are few and far between, sorry.”

And he was sorry, because he could see the connection Bradshaw had made, hope driving him for a quick fix.

“What does hate have to do with it?” Omaha asked, confused.

“Cursed,” Jake said, nodding his head toward Bradley. “Common misconception that it’s true love’s kiss that fixes them. It’s more like strong emotion, so it’s either true love's kiss, or true hate’s kiss, and unfortunately for Bradshaw here, I ain’t feelin’ either one of those toward him.”

Parental love could also kick a curse, but Jake wasn’t gonna bring up that.

Bradshaw dropped into the last empty seat, burying his head into his hands and groaning as the rest of the group let out soft noises of understanding, and looks of pity were shot in Bradley’s direction. It sucked. Getting cursed wasn’t as easy as it had once been, not with the regulations being the way they were, but if you knew where to look, you could find one or two slightly shady fae that would be willing to do a soft curse for a price. Jake had always been told to stay far, far, away from the fair folk by his Momma, and this was only reiterating that fact.

 “I'm in too deep, and I'm tryin' to keep, up above in my head, instead of goin' under,” Bradley sang.

They all looked confused at each other before Jake snorted. “Yeah, man. You’re fucked.”

Bradley looked up at him, eyes wide before they narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side. “Hate me today, hate me tomorrow.”

Jake shook his head. “Rooster, there ain’t a goddamn thing you would actually do that would get me to hate you, especially now knowing you’re cursed. So,” Jake shrugged, not really in the mood to apologize. Rooster had gotten himself into this mess; he was gonna have to get himself out of it.

“Might wanna fix it quick, you’re gonna be grounded until it is,” Fanboy pointed out, the whole table going solemn as Rooster groaned and dropped his forehead to the table before he started to hit it, hard enough that Jake kicked out a leg to get his attention.

“Dude, you’re so dramatic. Your girl liked you enough to curse you? Go kiss ass until she’s over it. It’s about fucking strong emotion; it doesn’t actually need to be love. She just needs to believe she loves you.”

Rooster’s eyes lit up, and he moved to stand, only for Nat’s hand to shoot out and grab his elbow, yanking him back down.

“And I run, I run so far away,” Bradshaw sang, managing to sound like he was whining.  

“Calm down, Romeo. Give her a day or two to settle and then go and kiss ass, somehow, without the power of speech,” she said, patting him on the shoulder.

Rooster sighed and dropped back into the chair, arms crossing over his chest. Jake, for some fucking reason, was suddenly aware of how his biceps bulged, straining the material near to bursting, the low neck of his t-shirt showing off his collarbone and the swell of muscles. He swallowed, feeling a little flushed under the collar as he rubbed a hand over his mouth, wondering when the prickling sensation would disappear and coming to the realization he needed to get laid if that shitty ass kiss was what had his pulse racing.  

“I don’t know what was worse with this whole thing,” Payback said into the strained silence. “Watching Rooster kiss Hangman or watching Hangman try to gently let him down.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you, bro,” Omaha said, clapping him on the back and looking on with pride that was belied by the shit-eating grin.

Jake rolled his eyes but forced himself to grin around the table. “Well, can’t exactly blame the man, now can I?” he asked, running a hand down his chest to groans. “But ain’t gotta be rude about it either.”

“I'm like, 'fuck you and fuck her too,” Bradley muttered, flipping Jake off before reaching for the still half-full pitcher of beer and beginning to drink straight from it.

It was a testament to how bad they felt about Rooster’s predicament, none of them said anything, just watched as Rooster kept drinking. Jake caught Javy’s eye and saw the question in his gaze and he shrugged, looking back at Bradley in time to see a drop of beer roll down his chin and over his thick neck and he swallowed, looking back at Javy and rolling his eyes, hoping his best friend hadn’t seen what he had been looking at, or that Jake suddenly could feel heat crawling up the back of his neck.

“Oh, I, I just died in your arms tonight, must’ve been something you said,” Bradley sang after he set the pitcher down, and Nat sighed, reaching out and patting him on the back.

“This is why we use our words, Bradshaw,” she said, before she slapped him over the head, and that broke the tension as they all laughed, and went back to ragging on Bradley, who sat there pouting.

On Monday, Jake wandered into the ready room, helmet in hand and deep in thought, only to stop at the sight of Rooster lying face down on the couch, still in his tans and a long-suffering Nat sitting on the arm of the couch, already in her flight suit. She was rubbing a hand over her face as Rooster sang something into the couch, muffled, but it was easy to hear he was whining. It didn’t take a lot of guesswork to figure out what had happened. 

“Grounded?” Jake asked, stepping fully into the room and walking over to sit on the opposite couch from Rooster.

“So, fast it was actually kind of impressive,” Nat said, reaching down to pat Rooster on the shoulder. “Warlock asked him a direct question, and he tried to hide it, but it was impossible, so grounded until it's fixed.”

“….how did he try and hide it?” Jake asked, already grinning in anticipation.

Nat chuckled as Rooster whined again. “He broke out into the Star-Spangled Banner.”

Laughing, Jake shook his head. “Fuck, man. You should’ve gone for America the Beautiful or something. Might have worked on Warlock more than the fuckin’ anthem.”

“Doubt it,” Nat said, shrugging. “Upside is he said he’d ask his family if there were any other way to break a curse.”

Jake hummed, having forgotten that Warlock was Warlock because he had gone against family wishes and joined the military instead of sticking with his family and practicing magic. “They breakers?”

“Nah, contract, but they know people who have dealt with this, which is good,” Nat explained before she sighed and looked back down at Rooster. “Look, I need to go, it’s my turn to fly. Can you babysit?”

Rooster lifted his head. “I'm not your baby, don't treat me like I'm a trick.”

“Look. You’re a weirdo who needs constant company, or he gets depressed, so even Hangman’s gonna make you feel better, and we now have definitive proof he doesn’t hate you,” Nat said, patting his shoulder again.

Rooster scowled even deeper. “Don't need no doctor, I'm not ill, I'm not your baby.”

“Whatever, man,” Nat said, glancing at Jake expectantly.

Sighing, he waved a hand, and she left, shooting him a thankful look that made Jake feel uncomfortable. She was gone a second later, and he was left staring at a dramatic teenager stuck in a six-foot-one, almost forty-year-old man. Jake was definitely more amused than he had any right to be as he kicked his legs out and dropped his heels onto the table.

“Soooo, gonna talk to your girl soon?”

Rooster’s shoulders lifted up and down in a dramatic shrug as his face dropped back into the pillow.

“So, no.”

Another shrug.

“Or yes?”

Yet another shrug.

Jake hummed in response, looking out the window at the hustle and the bustle of the base and shook his head, kicking the table with his heel so it ran into Rooster’s foot, causing Rooster’s head to shoot up and for him to glare at Jake once he realized what he had done.

“You gonna sulk the whole time?”

Rooster scowled. “I’m like a bird, I wanna fly away.”

“Yeah, it sucks. But it is what it is, once again, you gonna whine the whole time?”

“I just don't know what to do with myself I don't know what to do with myself.”

“Figure it out.”

It was easy for Jake to say that because that was who he was. Something went wrong; you just fucking dealt with it. What else was he supposed to do? Sit around and mope and waste time that could be used to fix it? Although staring at Rooster, he wasn’t sure there was something else he could be doing.

To his surprise, Rooster sat up with a glare, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed, legs stretched out in front of him until he could kick Jake’s boot. Jake kicked back because he might not hate Rooster, but he wasn’t gonna take his shit lying down.

“It's not fair to deny me of the cross I bear that you gave to me!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it sucks, but c’mon. You gonna lie on the couch and bitch the whole time?”

Bradley waved his arms in the air.

“Like you just don’t care?” Jake couldn’t help but ask.

Rooster frowned, tilting his head to the side before realization struck and he rolled his eyes, slouching deeper with a huff.

Jake sighed, glancing out the window again, content to stay silent if Rooster was gonna be like that. It sucked, Jake didn’t deny that. But the petulance was starting to piss him off. It happened; there was no going back, so moving forward was the only option.

Rooster sighed. “Until your love comes back around, I can't get my feet back on the ground, and things won't be the same.”

Frowning, Jake looked back at Rooster. “Come again?”

“I'm just the same as I was now don't you understand? That I'm never changing who I am,” Rooster tried again, frowning as he stared at Jake.

“A whiny teenager?

A deeper frown covered Rooster’s forehead before it suddenly cleared away, and he snapped his fingers, leaning forward. “And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world I will learn to survive.”

It took a second for Jake to fully grasp what Rooster was trying to say. “You want to be normal?”

Rooster nodded, sitting back with a self-satisfied look on his face. He laced his fingers and rested them on his stomach, chin lifted and looking so much like himself that Jake just really couldn’t help himself.

“Sorry to say, Rooster, you ain’t ever been normal. But now you can be the jukebox hero, got stars in your eyes,” Jake said, grinning at the confusion and irritation warring on Rooster's face before realization and the man up and around the table, shoving at Jake’s shoulder and aiming a punch at his side.

It was light enough that he knew Rooster had taken no offense, but Jake shoved him back anyway, laughing as Rooster dropped down next to him, still huffing. Jake kept quiet, kicking his heels back up on the table and slouching down, waiting for his call time, knowing he was early, but he had always been early. Everyone had given up on giving him shit about it. 

“I put a spell on you,” Rooster muttered, elbowing Jake in the side.

“Don’t even fucking joke,” Jake warned, knowing that fae magic was not something you wanted to fuck with even if there were none around.

Holding up both hands in supplication, Rooster turned, frowning at Jake before he tilted his head to the side. “You've got the music in you don't let go, you've got the music in you?”

He sounded confused, and he wouldn’t be the first. Jake never minded talking about his family.

“Parents are musicians and used to tour. Nothing big, they never really made it made it, but they had a good go of it and had a few albums. Dad is currently a high school music teacher and runs their marching band program, and Mom teaches music theory at college and is their musical director. I grew up surrounded by music. My youngest sister is currently at Juilliard, and the middle sister is waiting tables and working on becoming a singer, so fingers crossed for her.”

Both of Rooster’s eyebrows went up at that, and Jake grinned. “I can sing, yes. I know how to play guitar and piano, and before you try to come up with another song that might work, yes, I am in fact the black sheep of the family because I can do all of that, and I still wanted to fly.”

Rooster watched him, lips pursed, before he shrugged and sat back against the couch with a huff, waving a hand at himself and then around the room before it dropped to the couch. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out.

“Yeah, flying is better,” Jake agreed, listening to Rooster sigh again as the rumble of engines filled the room and they both turned to look out the window, watching the plane take off.

It was, Jake mused, a fairly peaceful experience. 

There was always a moment when he landed and was walking back that Jake felt like his legs were about to give way underneath him, the adrenaline drop making him breathless and shaky, but all he could do was grin. And keep smiling as he headed back, eyes on Halo and Omaha talking to each other in front of him, going over what they had done before they all settled into debrief on the day. It had only been a few days since they had flown, but Jake could feel something settle in his chest, a sense of rightness that he could feel in his bones.

He was humming to himself as he stepped out from the bright San Diego heat into the climate-controlled building and shivered as he took the familiar route and walked into the chaos that came with the daggers all being in one place. Rooster was in the middle of pacing, the rest of the daggers arrayed around the room.

“Ehh, that song is so overrated,” Yale called from where he and Harvard were playing foosball.

Rooster’s groan was loud, causing Jake to snort as he wandered over to the one free chair left and sat, kicking his heels up as he settled into wait for the powers that be to show up.

“I will never find another lover sweeter than you?”

“What are you? At a high school dance?” Fritz asked.

“Or a fuckin’ wedding. Unless you wanna come on that strong?” Halo asked, as she squished herself into the chair next to Omaha.

“I've been dreaming of a true love's kiss.”

“I mean, she doesn’t actually true love you, does she?” Fanboy asked.

“Nah, he just needs her to believe it,” Harvard pointed out. “Break the spell.”

“I feel like this is a bit creepy?” Halo offered, looking offended.

“To be fair, she’s the one who went shady to get the spell because there was no way she went through the proper channels,” Omaha said, getting a glare from Halo, and he held his hands up. “C’mon, Cal. You know there’s a reason for those channels, to get rid of the knee-jerk reaction. Life has been a lot better.”

“I'm on the hunt, I'm after you, smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd and I'm hungry like the wolf,” Bradley said, voice more of a growl than it ever had been before, hair a mess in a way that made it look soft. Jake watched as he rubbed both hands over his face before he yanked at his hair with a grunt of irritation, and his hands dropped, and he resumed pacing.

“I wonder what she offered to get the curse put on him,” Coyote muttered, fingers drumming on his knee.

The conversation shifted as people started to offer up suggestions ranging from innocent to stupid. Jake ignored it, leaning closer so only Nat could hear him. “So, was he actually in the wrong here?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Nat grimaced before she sighed. “I think there were a lot of assumptions on both sides since they never actually went on a date, or mentioned dating, they just fucked a lot.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. “No dates, only fuckin’ and she thinks they were serious?” he asked, unable to keep the derision out of his voice.

“Don’t be a dick.”

Jake snorted. “You really defending her?” he asked, head tilting to the side. “Or are you not telling us something?”

Nat scowled. “No, I’m not. I’m just saying that—”

“—she’s got her panties in a twist because Bradshaw only wanted to fuck?”

“No, it’s just. Rooster can be charming, okay? So, if she took the flirting the wrong way—”

“—she still got the curse put on him,” Jake finished for her.

Nat sighed and scrubbed both hands over her face. “I know, I just…he’s charming, and this has happened a few times where he says one thing, and they believe another? Which I know isn’t on him, but he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. He’s respectful and by all accounts knows what the fuck he’s doing, in the day and age of random dick pics, someone like Rooster is a fucking oasis. But it’s the first time he’s gotten cursed over it.”

Jake scoffed. “Sure. Okay. Far be it from me to back Rooster on this, but…not his fault?”

“I know,” she muttered. “I just…need him to settle down. But he doesn’t want to date just anyone, and so he ends up dating no one.”

Jake shrugged, slouching and back at Rooster, who had his hands over his face as the others kept throwing suggestions out at him, each more insane than the last. He wasn’t in the mood to get into a conversation with Nat about that statement because if Rooster didn’t want to settle down, then Rooster didn’t have to settle down, but from the look she shot him, she already knew what he was going to say. He raised an eyebrow, and she just huffed and crossed her arms, looking away.

“Surprised you’ve never been cursed.”

“Few have tried, but the perks of being blunt and honest are that they never have anything to actually back it up except for hurt feelings, and that ain’t a curse worthy offense, despite what you might believe,” Jake said, unable to help the dig. He sighed. “But, I also break it off if it looks like they’re getting too deep.”

“He doesn’t notice,” she explained.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Nat shrugged. “He’s got blinders on because of...” Nat trailed off and shrugged. Jake got the sense she wasn't gonna continued

“Well, he’s a chicken, not a horse,” Jake joked.

Rolling her eyes, Nat flipped him off, but anything she was about to say was cut off when Warlock stepped into the room, all of them surging to their feet, even Rooster, a split second behind them, and hair looking like it had gotten stuck in a socket. With his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, he looked cute, and Jake had the sudden urge to reach out and smooth Rooster’s hair down, which was an insane thought that came from nowhere.

Jake frowned. There was something fucking wrong with his brain, he was sure of it. Rooster wasn’t his type. Jake could see the appeal, sure, but there had never been anything there before the kiss.

“Alright, debrief begins in five. Rooster,” Warlock paused and sighed. “Go home, son. Normally, if you couldn’t fly, you could still listen, but not with magic on you. We can’t risk it, I’m sorry.”

Rooster scowled, looking like he was about to argue it before his shoulders slumped and he nodded, trudging out of the room, defeat in every line of his body. Warlock started speaking, but Jake half-tuned him out for the moment as he watched Rooster pause in the doorway and look back with a sense of such longing that made Jake suddenly feel like he was intruding just looking at him. He caught Rooster’s gaze and, to his surprise, Rooster didn’t look away, just shrugged, and all Jake could do was shrug back, knowing what he meant.

Nothing to do, and Jake was sure he would hate it just as much as Rooster. In reality, if it were Jake in his position, he would be handling it with a lot less grace.

To his surprise, Jake found himself mouthing ‘good luck’ to Rooster, watching a ghost of a smile cross his lips before he disappeared through the hallway, and Jake stood, watching the empty space before he tuned back into Warlock, the room suddenly feeling lopsided without Rooster in it.

To his surprise, Jake was the first to arrive at the diner they had all planned to meet up that night after they had all had a chance to decompress. Good luck with traffic and parking had given him almost twenty minutes to kill before everyone else would start showing up. However, it wasn’t surprising to find Rooster already loitering outside, hands in his pockets as he paced. Jake could tell he was depressed because he was in a sweater that had seen better days, the pocket half ripped, and the logo mostly worn off, so all Jake could make out was ‘un’ written across the chest. The hoodie was half pulled over his head, curls spilling out of the rest, and Rooster was chewing on the strings as he kept pacing. He looked like a college coed in the middle of her first breakup. Which only meant one thing.

“Went well then?” Jake called when he got closer.

Rooster started before he turned, shoulders slumping. “Leave, get out, it’s the end of you and me.”

“Ouch,” Jake said, wincing as he stopped next to Rooster and clapped him on the shoulder. “Man. I’m sorry. These curses do fade, though, you know?”

“Time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin, into the future,” Rooster sang forlornly, looking at Jake with eyes that would do wonders for the ASPCA commercial revenue. Jake was half tempted to tell him to put them away.

“What did you do?” Jake asked curiously.

Rooster waved his hands at himself and then at Jake and then stepped closer and dropped his chin, looking at him with big eyes before, to Jake’s amusement, pouted and dropped to his knees, hands linked together and looking up at him in prayer. “Is it too late to say sorry?”

Jake blinked twice before he burst out laughing, shaking his head as Rooster sighed and stood, a rueful grin on his face. “I mean, you’re not working with a lot verbally, but that just screams desperate more than anything else.”

Another sigh. Rooster nodded before he tugged at his shirt and then hit his chest and saluted. Jake frowned for a moment. “You were in uniform?” he hazarded a guess.

Another nod.

“Extra desperate.”

Another nod as Rooster reached down and tugged at the knee of his jeans before he mimicked ripping.

“You ripped your pants?” Jake said, watching as Rooster nodded again. “Man, what black cat fucked you over this week?”

Roosters threw his arms up before he crossed them. Jake chuckled again, clapping Rooster on the shoulder before he jerked his chin inside. “I’m gonna check us in since I don’t think you did, yeah?”

Rooster shook his head, waving a hand. It only took a second for Jake to check them before he was outside, dropping onto the bench to wait for the rest of the daggers to get there. He watched as Rooster kept pacing, and he let himself watch Rooster, not bothering to hide it. Rooster looked at him, eyebrow raised, and Jake figured he should say something, rather than just keep staring like a creeper.

“So, did you really think that going over and dropping to your knees was gonna work?” Jake asked, curious more than anything else. “Like, I know words are hard right now, but there must’ve been something else you could’ve done.”

Rooster shrugged, waving a hand at himself. “Girl, look at that body.”

Jake laughed. “Nat told me you were charming, but you can’t talk, so maybe, and here’s just a suggestion, you might want to do something a little more than looks since you’re aiming for true love here.”

Jake was treated to another eye roll, before Rooster’s smile softened, his chin dipping as he dropped his hand to where his belt would be and strutted forward, hips rolling with a looseness that hadn’t been there before. It was a move Jake had seen Rooster pull a dozen times, and it was a move that Jake himself had done, and so all he did was laugh, watching as the soft smirk shifted into a pout.

“I do that move as well,” Jake said, shaking his head as he dropped his arms across the back of the bench and let his head tilt back. “Try again.”

Rooster tilted his head to the side before he shifted forward, sliding into Jake’s lap and resting on his knees, elbows dropping onto his shoulders as he leaned in. Jake blinked a few times, staring up at Bradley for a moment as he waited for his mind to register this brand new position, and he found himself in with Rooster. He was aware of the weight on his knees, the warmth of Rooster’s thighs against his own, and something subtly spicy that for his own peace of mind he was gonna assume was more cinnamon gum.

“Alright,” he said finally, inclining his head. “That’s new. But that ain’t gonna lead to love.”

“In your fantasy, dream about me, and all that we could do with this emotion.” Jake went to open his mouth, but paused when Bradley held up a finger and continued. “That I'm strong enough to live without you.”

He finished, looking at Jake expectantly as if he fully expected Jake to get what he was aiming for. For some reason, Jake could normally understand what Rooster was getting at, but this one had him frowning, head tilting to the side as he tried to make it make sense. Rooster snapped fingers in his face, and it was only the slightly bemused smile that stopped Jake from snapping back, figuring Rooster was attempting a joke. Finally, Rooster rolled his eyes as if he were being an idiot, and then it clicked.

“Strong emotion,” he finally settled on, watching as Rooster slow clapped, still fucking sitting in his lap.

“Somehow I don’t think fucking is gonna be the strong emotion you need, no matter how good the orgasm is,” he pointed out. “Still gonna have to find someone who hates you, and sorry to say, still ain’t me.”

Huffing, Rooster slid off Jake’s lap to lie on the bench, one leg still draped across Jake’s lap. Jake turned his head, propping his head up on his fist to stare at Rooster as he rubbed both hands over his face before he sighed.

“Well, I see trouble at every turn I've got so many lessons to learn, what am I doing wrong?”

If Jake was being fair, Rooster was taking this a lot better than Jake knew he would take it. If it were him, he’d be pressing charges for, at minimum, loss of wages. “You got any exes you could try to get back with?”

Rooster shook his head and held up one finger.

“One?” Another shake of his head. “Single?”

A nod. Jake remembered Nat’s comment about settling down and made a guess. “No exes because no relationships?”

Rooster nodded.

“Anyone you like enough to want to try, maybe?” Jake asked, knowing the answer but figuring he should ask anyway.

Rooster’s sigh was explosive, and to Jake’s slight amusement, sounded a little melodic, almost like birdsong, but he kept that to himself as Rooster nodded. The motion was small, barely even there, like he was afraid to let it out, and it left Jake speechless. There was someone Rooster wanted, wanted enough to try, but he was in a shit position, with a shit curse, and Jake didn’t know what to say. He settled for clapping Rooster on the leg.

And besides, Jake really wasn’t a fan of kicking people when they were down, even if that person was Rooster, especially over something like this. He kept quiet, watching as Rooster drummed his fingers over his stomach and opened his mouth, about to ask something to break the silence before he heard his name called and he lifted his head to see Nat and Bob making their way toward them and Bradley sat up, dislodging Jake’s hand which apparently, he hadn’t moved for some reason before Rooster waved dejectedly.

“Oh, that good then?” Nat asked, more sympathetic than Jake thought she was capable of, but then again, Nat and Bradshaw were the sort of best friends that reminded Jake of him and Javy.

Rooster’s nod looked heavy, the weight of the world on his rounded shoulders.

“Shit,” Nat said, moving to pull Rooster into a hug, and Jake suddenly felt like he was intruding as he stood up, making some excuse about checking the reservation before he disappeared inside, leaving Nat to comfort Rooster.

As he waited for the hostess to finish with the person in front of him, Jake glanced outside, seeing Nat sitting with an arm around Rooster’s shoulders, his head bowed as Bob crouched in front of him. Jake had always loved how Rooster could stand toe to toe with him, and over the past few weeks, he had been finding himself becoming more and more amused now that the irritation that had been left over from their youth faded in favor of a more friendly competition.

Rooster kept him on his toes, and frankly, Jake hated seeing him so down, and he wished he could do something.

A week later, and Jake was beginning to doubt that anything short of a lawsuit would fix Rooster’s curse. A week of songs, of people stumbling and trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate, had put any plans the daggers had been making of trying to get someone to fall madly in love with Rooster on the back burner. It ended up with them spending more and more time together as they all tried to cheer Rooster up as best as they could and stop him from spiraling into depression.

Or stop them from all being kicked out of the hard Deck after Rooster had spent all of Wednesday playing the piano and drinking until it had taken both Jake and Payback to carry him out of the bar with Penny’s firm, but worried, warning echoing behind them.

“Hangman!”

Jake rolled his eyes as he turned his head, looking toward Phoenix and Rooster, the latter who had his hands on his hips and was glaring at Nat, who was glaring right back at him, unbothered as she always was.

“What?”

“Come figure out what the fuck he is saying,” Nat demanded.

Out of all the things to come out over the past week, Jake’s family history had been one of them, especially since he was sure half the daggers were still confused that he had a good family and were coming to terms with the fact that he was just ‘like that’ according to Harvard. The other was the realization that years of reading Rooster’s body language to try and get ahead had given him a one-up on everyone else, and as a result, Jake had turned into the Rooster translator.

“He’s your best friend,” Jake shot back, more for form's sake as he rolled to standing and meandered over, snagging a handful of chips as he passed by to join the duo and raise his eyebrows at Nat, who glowered at him, annoyed. Jake knew it was more from worry than actual irritation that Jake could figure it out easier, but still found it amusing. He had two sisters who were just like Nat; her glare was nothing on them.   “Alright, hit me, Rooster.”

Another melodic sigh, something that was becoming more and more noticeable to everyone else, made Jake begin to doubt his previous claim of the curse fading with time. “You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere, maybe we can make a deal.”

Jake opened his mouth, only for Nat to cut him off. “And it’s not about running away,” she said. “I’m not that bad at this.”

“Remains to be seen,” he said with a grin, popping another chip into his mouth, dodging out of the way of the slap as he looked at Rooster. “Fast Car,” he mused, humming, thinking about the rest of the song before it clicked, and he looked at Nat. “He got a shitty ex-hookup he should never talk to again?”

Rooster beamed at him, bright and happy, looking so fucking cute that Jake almost choked on his potato chip when that thought sped through his mind. A split second later, Nat punched him, and the smile faded into pain as Rooster danced out of her reach.

“You’re not fucking Candy again!” Nat snapped.

Now it was Jake’s turn to want to hit Rooster. “Candy? Please tell me you don’t mean Admiral Cain’s ode to nepotism?”

“He does,” Nat spoke before Rooster could even begin to debate.

“Seriously? Man. Get your dick checked, you’ve got to have like twelve STDs from him.”

“See!” Nat snapped, throwing both hands at Jake. “Hangman agrees with me on this. So clearly, worst idea ever.”

Rooster’s arms went up before they dropped, and he sighed again.

“We’re not desperate enough to fuck Candy,” Jake said before Nat could. “How drunk were you the first time?”

“It was a carrier screw,” Nat explained.

“Please tell me Rooster ended it because I’m not going to be able to talk to him if he got carrier dumped by fucking Candy,” Jake said, nose wrinkling.  Rooster shot him two thumbs up, and Jake pressed a hand against his chest. “Oh, thank god.”

“Candy was pissed,” Nat explained.

“Candy gets pissed if someone breaths the wrong way, that’s not saying much, fucking nepo baby,” Jake muttered.

“Look, we’re not there yet, okay?” Nat stared at Rooster. “Even Bob doesn’t like him, and Bob likes everyone half the time. Hell, Bob likes Hangman.”

“Yep,” Bob agreed.

Jake blinked at Bob, who had appeared out of thin air like Bobby-Fucking-Mary before he glared at Nat for her comment. “I am fuckin’ lovable,” he said, but Nat ignored him in favor of still glaring at Rooster.

Rooster's shoulders were slumped again, bottom lip sticking out, and ASPCA eyes coming back in full force as he stared at Nat.

“Man, it’s like kicking a dog right now,” Jake mused.

“In the arms of an angel,” Rooster sang.

“NO!”

The cry was immediate from the rest of the daggers, everyone demanding that Rooster shut up before they all ended up crying, but it made Rooster laugh, so Jake figured it was a win.

Another week and Jake had grown used to Rooster shadowing him. He kept waiting for it to get annoying. For Rooster’s inability to hold a conversation, to start gnawing at him. Or to become irritated with the way Rooster would sit next to him, stupid long legs taking up half the space, but he was one of the few people Jake didn’t need to fight with for more shoulder room, so it actually ended up being comfortable. Jake did figure part of it out because Rooster’s constant singing made him feel like he was back home, the house constantly filled with music, everyone playing their own songs or practicing something. He had grown used to the discordant noises and had found Navy life soothing as a result. Rooster randomly singing felt normal to Jake.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t still getting to Rooster. Two weeks of being grounded, two weeks of the curse sitting there, getting worse, not better, even as his sighs sounded like songs. It had moved from funny, into frustrating, and now they were settling into pity, which wasn’t good for Rooster’s attitude, and as the person Rooster was now sticking to like no one else, Jake was finding himself inclined to try and fix Rooster’s attitude.

Which was why he was ignoring whatever story Fanboy was telling about his last disastrous date in favor of tilting his head in closer to Rooster, phone between their ears as they listened to the latest composition Cherie was working on for her senior year at Juilliard. This close, Bradley had dropped an arm around Jake’s shoulder so he could lean in easier, also to keep him on the seat where they were all crammed into a table made for eight, not twelve, and Rooster was fighting to stay on the edge of the seat, his ankle hooked around Jake’s to help steady him. Jake could smell whatever cologne he was wearing, and it smelled nice enough that he half wanted to ask what it was, but that kinda felt creepy, so he kept quiet.

The song finished, and Rooster pulled back, making an impressed noise before he gave Jake two thumbs up, and Jake nodded. “Yeah, she’s good. She wants to end up playing for an orchestra; she’s not picky with where. Odette keeps trying to get her to become a house musician until she does, but Cherie isn’t really a big fan of modern music.”

Rooster hummed, head tilted to the side, before he frowned at Jake, fingers tapping on the table in a way Jake had learned meant that Bradley was doing his best to try and figure out how to ask something. A look of frustration crossed Bradley’s face as his mouth opened and closed a few times. Jake didn’t know how magic actually worked, but they had figured out early on enough that Bradley had to have already known the song before he was cursed to be able to sing it. Which was a bummer because Jake had a family full of composers he could’ve had help Rooster.

Finally, Rooster sighed, leaning forward, pulling the arm Jake had forgotten was behind his back to lean across the table and wave at Fanboy, the conversation having moved on to something else. The conversation stopped, each of them letting Rooster have the floor because what he was going through sucked.

“Yeah, man?” Fanboy asked.

They were all still in uniform, sans Rooster, who had at least moved out of post-breakup college girl outfits and back into hideously patterned shirts and jeans. Rooster leaned across the table and tapped at Fanboy’s name plate before holding his hands in front of him and widening them.

“Garcia?” Fanboy said, frowning, looking over at Jake, who shrugged, not sure what Rooster was trying to get at.

Rooster groaned before he dropped his head into his hands and mumbled something that none of them could make out before he looked up, almost hopeful.

“Wanna try that again?” Nat prompted.

Rooster sighed, resigned to the situation, and Jake had a sudden inkling where this might go, but he wasn’t sure why Rooster was going down this path. “What’s your name, whose your daddy?”

“Sure, as shit ain’t you,” Jake said, getting a glare from Rooster that had him grinning even as the rest of the table laughed.

“Mickey,” Fanboy offered.

Rooster rolled his eyes before turning back to Fanboy and widening his hands again, before looking at his nameplate and widening his hands.

“Miguel?” Mickey offered, frowning.

Bradley threw up both hands in celebration, which had the rest of the table cheering as well. Jake was beginning to think they were all a little bit drunker than he had figured.  before waving at Jake and then waving down. Jake shook his head, shrugging as he glanced around the table in case someone else had figured it out, but no dice. “Not following you right now, man.” 

“A-B-C-D-E, F you and your mom and your sister and your job.”

Jake threw a napkin at Rooster. “Don’t you bring my Mama into this.”

Another eye roll before Bradley waved further down.

“My sisters?”

Rooster nodded, and Jake was aware of all eyes on them. If this ever fucking ended, Jake had a feeling he and Rooster might be able to aim for charade world champions. But even with all of the practice, Jake had no idea where the fuck Rooster was going.

“Cherie and Odette,” he repeated, frowning when Rooster nodded.

Rooster reached out and tapped Jake’s nameplate. “Girl, tell me your name, please tell me your name.”

“Jake?” Jake offered, even more confused.

An aggravated noise that sounded like someone smashing piano keys sounded as Rooster threw his arms up and pointed back at Fanboy’s nameplate before widening his hand.

“Miguel,” Fanboy offered.

Rooster nodded before pointing to Nat and repeating the same motion.

Nat frowned. “Natasha.”

Another nod before Rooster moved to Bob.

“Robert.”

Javy. “Javier.”

Halo. “Callista.”

Finally, Rooster turned back to Jake, and he snorted, shaking his head as he finally got it. “Man, how pissed off would you be right now if I told you it was just Jake?”

Rooster opened his mouth, closed it, and tilted his head to the side with a frown before he waved his hands down, the new apparent symbol for Jake’s sisters. Jake drummed his fingers on the table as he stared at Rooster, trying to figure out what Rooster was trying to say. Rooster stared back at him, waving his hand down again and then at Jake’s nameplate.

“Something about names,” Jake offered, getting a nod. “My sisters and my name?” Another nod.

Something was tickling at the back of Jake’s mind as he kept thinking. There was something about his name that Bradley was interested in, his full name apparently, which, despite what Jake had said, wasn’t Jake, and it wasn’t Jacob either, to most people’s surprise. But he couldn’t figure out how it related to his sisters.

Bradley tapped his name plate and widened his hands again before frowning and bringing them back in. At least that Jake could figure out.

“It’s not Jake,” he said, getting an eye roll from Rooster that made him grin.

Rooster kept watching him expectantly, but Jake still couldn’t figure out why he kept mentioning his sisters, but he figured that could be figured out later if Rooster even managed to break the curse. Jake opened his mouth—

—well, if it ain’t Rooster.”

Jake turned along with the rest of the group and rolled his eyes so hard he felt something pull. Candy stood there, along with whichever dumbass had figured his last name would help their own careers before they figured out that Candy was only there because of nepotism, and everyone knew it. Jake could feel Rooster stiffen next to him, and that set him on edge, because the last thing any of them needed was Candy opening his big fucking mouth.

“Heard you got cursed.”

Apparently, it was too late for that. Jake glanced over at Nat to see a scowl on her face, looking like she was ready to bite Candy’s head off, which Jake wouldn’t mind, but they all knew that, for as much of a shitty flier Candy was, he still had Cain’s backing because Hammer was blind to his son’s inadequacies. But, Jake wasn’t most people. And Jake had plenty of capital to burn, even with Cain involved.

“Who’s tweedle dee and dum?” Jake asked, getting Candy’s attention and wrinkling his nose at the one over he got.

“Lackney and Williamson,” Candy said.

“They got tongues as well as names, or are you holding them as well as their balls?”

That got one of them to straighten up, glaring at Jake.

“Fuck off, Hangman,” Candy said, rolling his eyes, and it amused Jake when the one who had straightened up seemed to fold into himself.

Sometimes, a reputation really was fucking useful.

“This conversation is between me and Rooster,” Candy continued, looking at Jake and shaking his head as if Jake had somehow done something wrong. “You know, you really should hang out with people better than this.”

“Like?”

Candy leaned a hand on the table, pushing between Harvard and Yale, who scooted the chairs back hard enough that Jake heard the scrape over the music. “People who could treat you right.”

It was a miracle Jake didn’t gag, but it was a fucking close thing.

“I would rather let Phoenix rail me with the most fucked up dildo Fanboy could find and film it with my face in full view and send it to the fucking Air Boss than touch you,” Jake replied, feeling Rooster’s shoulders begin to shake in amusement where they were still pressed together.

“I’d treat you so good,” Nat said deadpan. “I might even say good boy.”

“Aww, shucks, darlin’, always knew you liked me,” Jake said, winking at her, getting an eyeroll in return.

Candy’s face was bright red as he straightened, tugging down the front of his shirt. “Just like you leave everyone behind, everyone’s gonna get sick of you eventually and leave you, and I hope you remember this moment.”

“Nahhhhhhhhh,” Jake said, drawing it out, seeing the scowl deepen.

Candy shook his head, as if he was disappointed in Jake, which honestly felt like the best thing in the world. Instead, he looked at Rooster. “So, cursed. Ain’t surprised. Just surprised it took this long, the way you stick your dick in everyone and run.”

Jake could feel the flex of Rooster’s leg against his own and he glanced to the side, seeing how tightly Rooster was clenching his teeth, and he looked back at Candy who was smirking, something burning in his eyes that made Jake straighten up a little bit more, looking between them again remembering what Nat had said about the carrier screw, and Rooster leaving him. Rooster was charming, and according to Nat, tended to pull people in his wake and not realize what he had done. Shitty taste aside, Jake knew that Candy had an ego the size of the carrier, and he wondered exactly how well that had gone when Rooster had dumped him.

 Candy’s smirk grew.

“What, Rooster? Ain’t got a word for me right now?” Candy demanded, leaning across the table again, Harvard and Yale leaning back and wrinkling their noses as if they were worried that they could catch something.

Smart of them.

“Or maybe, a tune,” Candy continued.

It wasn’t like it had really been kept a secret, but Candy wasn’t deployed at North Island. Jake figured he was just here to see his Dad, although showing up in uniform for that was fucking weird in Jake’s mind. He could see how stiff Rooster was holding himself where they were pressed together, before it disappeared as Rooster leaned forward, appearing in Jake’s peripheral vision, elbows braced on the table. It felt like the whole world held its breath before Rooster shrugged.

“Doesn't matter what they say, in the jealous games people play, our lips are sealed,” Rooster offered, before leaning back and smirking.

Candy frowned. “The fuck does that mean?” he demanded.

“Means you’re talkin’ a lot of shit, but ain’t no one here give a shit,” Jake said bluntly, watching Rooster nod.

Candy’s mouth twisted, and the look in his eyes flared. Now, Jake was sure of what he suspected as an idea popped into his brain. Maybe a bad idea, but it might end up working out if Jake played his cards right. “What the fuck ever—”

“—so, question, Candyass,” Jake interrupted.

“Just, Candy,” Candy snapped.

“Whatever,” Jake waved a hand, settling back into the booth. “Like, I know you and Rooster used to fuck, which is a choice of his, but whatever.”

It was almost impressive how red Candy’s face could get.

“But what I want to know is how you took it, because you give me cry in a room and listen to emo music and never be able to move on kinda vibes so I need to know where your head is at before this motherfucker ends up with his ankles broken because you wanna go full Anne Wilkes and I suddenly have to deal with this shit because I have the misfortune of knowing both of you,” Jake said, making sure to keep his tone light.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Candy said through gritted teeth.

“Sure,” Jake said. “Everyone knows you got carrier dumped by Rooster. It’s chill, we’ve all been there. Well…I haven’t,” he said, letting his smirk grow as he shrugged. “But, I know you have a time or two, yeah? Or ten. Who knows. No judgement, right man?”

If there was one thing Jake was good at aside from flying, it was riling people up, and he could do it without trying. He felt a knee press harder against his own, and he ignored it for the moment as he watched Candy’s face go almost purple, Willwhoever and Lackey backing away.

Jake barreled on. “No, seriously. I mean, I’m judging Rooster hard,” he paused and glanced over to roll his eyes, seeing the slight frown of confusion on Rooster’s face before it smoothed out.

Two weeks ago, he would’ve missed that small motion, but he knew Rooster’s face so much better than he had then. To be fair, two months ago, Jake running his mouth like this would’ve gotten him hit by the rest of the daggers, but he had earned enough trust that they were keeping quiet, so he kept talking.

He looked back at Candy and leaned forward, as if he was pulling Candy into his confidence. “I mean, just the shit he’s said,” a lie but Candy didn’t need to know that, “really makes me question a lot of sanity. So, I gotta know, how did you take it, Candy Anne Wilkes?”

Both hands came down on the table, hard, knocking over one of the empty glasses that Bob grabbed before it could roll off the table. Candy leaned over with a snarl, lip curling up, and if Jake was maybe a little more sane, he would feel bad about this. But no one had ever accused him of being normal.

“Yannow, Hangman, I think I got something,” Candy said, chin lifted. “Maybe try and do it so fucking Rooster here will understand in his addled, fucked up, and useless state.” He paused, jaw working.

Jake leaned forward, smirking, letting it grow wide, chin lifting. “I’m waiting…”

It was almost better than Jake could’ve expected when Candy started singing, pitched and out of tune, and so horrible. Jake could see the shape of the insult he was trying to give, but it was falling short, and Jake could see that Candy knew that, but props to the man, he carried on.

“Fuck you, fuck you very, very much 'cause we hate what you do,” here Candy paused and waved, and Jake, before his hand encompassed all of the table. “And we hate your whole crew.”

Silence fell, before Jake lifted his hands and slowly clapped into the silence that followed. “Wow. You must really fucking hate Rooster to sing with that voice in public.”

Candy snarled. “Yannow what, Hangman, I really really fucking do.”

A gasp, and Rooster was surging forward, grabbing Candy’s face before planting a kiss right on his mouth before sitting back, both hands held out wide as the whole table held its breath, Candy’s spluttering ignored as they all looked at Rooster, Harvard and Yale pulling their chairs back and cutting out Candy and his demands about what the fuck was happening as they all waited.

“Hello?” Rooster said.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Man. Seriously. That is like the worst word; it could be Adele or Lionel Richie, so maybe try a different word.”

Rooster turned, smile blooming across his face, eyes dancing even in the shitty bar lighting. “Well, how about you go fuck yourself, Hangman.”

Jake grinned back at him. “There you are.”

Arms wrapped around him, and Jake tensed, spotting Coyote across the room so he had no fucking clue who could be hugging him as he turned, spotting the top of a head, and he turned some more, head tilting down to spot Nat. “You’re hugging me?” he said, unable to keep the confusion out of his voice.

Nat stepped back and shrugged, moving to sit next to him at the bar where he was waiting for their next round of drinks. “You’re an asshole.”

“I am.” Jake didn’t bother hiding that fact from anyone.

“But, you used it for good this time and helped Bradley with the curse,” she said, looking over to where Bradley was speaking, arms moving with a frantic energy, the same way he had been since the curse had been broken. To Jake it seemed like Bradley had a backlog of words he needed to get out, and also excitement that he wasn’t forced to communicate by singing.

“To be fair, riling Candy up is a fun pastime,” Jake said, glancing over at the door where a red-faced Candy had disappeared to, his henchmen following behind them and forgotten as soon as they had left. “He’s an asshole.”

“Such an asshole,” Nat agreed, before rapping her knuckles on Jake’s arm. “You’re not as bad as him.”

“A hug and a compliment? Are you sure you’re not cursed now?” Jake asked, leaning in and making a kissy face. “Need me to fix it?”

An eyeroll and a punch to his arm was the answer as she shook her head and pushed away from the bar, leaving him alone and still waiting for the drinks. The bartender finally appeared and started setting the drinks on the bar before disappearing again to ring them up. An arm dropped around his shoulders, and Jake sighed, rolling his shoulders to try to dislodge the arm.

“Phoenix, I know that I’m irresistible—”

“It’s just me,” a low voice said. Jake turned, the arm over his shoulders not moving as he turned until Bradley’s large hand rested at the base of his neck, which felt good, but Jake wasn’t gonna say shit about that. “What did Nat do?”

“Thanked me, and gave me a hug, makes me think she's the one cursed,” Jake replied, shrugging when Bradley chuckled, the laugh lines deepening on his face.

“You did a good thing.”

“Everyone’s so surprised by this,” Jake said. “I’m good at pissing people off, might as well use it to my advantage.”

“And me being able to speak is to your advantage?” Bradley asked, squeezing the back of Jake’s neck hard enough that he shivered this time before it dropped away. Bradley moved to brace an elbow on the bar and smiled at Jake.

“Means I don’t have to translate, so yeah,” Jake replied, handing over his card with the bartender reappeared, nodding with a smile toward him.

“You were good at it,” Bradley pointed out, something inscrutable in his face that Jake couldn’t read.

“Surprisingly, yes.” Jake shrugged, reaching for the beer he had gotten for himself and taking a sip to wet his suddenly dry throat. “Years of getting in your face have helped.”

Bradley laughed, standing back up and pressing closer until Jake could feel the heat between them, and he raised an eyebrow in question. “Yes?” he prompted when it looked like Bradley wasn’t going to say anything.

“Thank you,” Bradley said, sincere enough that Jake felt uncomfortable. “Not just for Candy. But for understanding what I was trying to say. It was…isolating to say the least. Especially since I couldn’t text or even write.”

The intensity in Bradley’s gaze was suddenly hard to match, despite years of throwing himself against that intensity, but Jake kept Bradley’s gaze and shrugged. “Like I told Phoenix, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“I know,” Bradley said, smile blooming across his face again. “Never figured you were.”

Jake scoffed.

That made Bradley chuckle. “Okay, you were. You’re an asshole, but I never figured you were a bad person.”

“I’ll take it,” Jake tilted his head to the side, suddenly needing this conversation to be done because he could handle anger, but he had never done well with sincerity from people outside of his family, and Javy. “Wanna give me a hand carrying these back?”

A hand brushed against his side before Bradley nodded and turned, grabbing one of the trays with their drinks. “Sure thing.”

“Thanks.”

There was something wrong, and Jake couldn’t put a finger on it. It was Friday night, the week had been good, especially since now that Bradley was back from his curse-leave the team was back to training like they always had. They had done well; they had bested everyone. And, rumor had it, Candy was back in Lemoore, far, far, away from them, and it didn’t look like he had attempted to curse Jake. Not that he would risk it, Jake had no issues filing all sorts of complaints if he had, and he was sure Candy knew it.

But there was something wrong, and it was setting him on edge. He kept looking to the side, expecting to see something, but he didn’t know what he expected to see. Rooster standing there for some fucking reason? Which was stupid because they hadn’t been friends before this, and now, they were…something. But friends seemed like a stretch since Jake didn’t even know when the man’s birthday was. Or his Mom’s name, or anything important. Even though Rooster knew all about his sisters, his parents, and their jobs, and how Jake would go back anytime he could because he missed them. Despite the black sheep comment, they loved him, and he loved them back.

“You chillin'?” Javy asked, arm dropping onto Jake’s shoulder, and he realized that he had been staring off into the distance, frowning for longer than he realized, and it was his turn. 

“Yeah, yeah man,” Jake said, shooting a smile at Javy and then around the daggers that were standing around. “Just fuckin’ tired from carryin’ all y’all on my back.”

The boos and jeers were expected, and Jake laughed at them as he bent over and managed to sink two balls before missing the third, and he stepped back to let Bob take his turn, already knowing he was going to lose because his mind was not in it for the night.

An elbow nudged his side, and Jake looked over as Bradley appeared, carrying bottles of beer, and Jake reached out to snag one before Bradley handed the rest of them out and came back to stand next to Jake, jerking his chin up in greeting.

“Thanks,” he said, looking back as Bob missed his next shot. He handed the beer back to Bradley, who took it, watching as Bob missed the shot and dropped his head with a groan.

Jake grinned. “Sorry, Bobby,” he said, stepping forward and bending over, beginning to sink the rest of the balls until he only had the eight, and it was easy as he called out the location and sank it, stepping back to groans as he won again.

Bob scratched the side of his nose with his middle finger and handed the cue over to Harvard even as Halo snatched the one out of Jake’s hand and elbowed him away. He wrapped her up in a tight hug, grunting at the elbow in his side before he stepped back to give them space to reset, taking his beer back from Bradley with a nod of thanks.

“Think Harvard’s got a chance?” Bradley asked, elbow dropping onto Jake’s shoulder as he leaned in.

“Nope,” Jake said, tilting his head so he could see Bradley out of the corner of his eye. “The man can hit any target in a plane, but get him on the ground, he’s got about as much coordination as a newborn deer.”

That made Bradley laugh, head dropping forward as he shook his head. Jake grinned, looking back as Harvard fucked up the break and groaned, head dropping to rest on the pool table even as Yale rubbed a hand over his back and leaned down to talk to him.

“You’re not wrong,” Bradley replied, mouth suddenly close enough to Jake’s ear that he shivered as he turned his head.

“Usually aren’t,” Jake said, leaning in and giving Rooster his smarmiest grin.

Once upon a time, it would’ve gotten an eyeroll and a scowl, but now all Bradey did was shake his head and chuckle. “God, the ego on you.”

“Hard pressed to find a reason why I haven’t earned it the longer I’m alive,” Jake replied, taking a mouthful of his drink as he met Bradley’s gaze. He watched as Bradley’s eyes flickered down and then up again, a there and gone motion Jake had seen a hundred times over the years, but it felt different this time, and he was suddenly aware of how much heat Rooster was putting out and how close he was standing.

“Well, can’t argue with that logic,” Bradley finally said.

“Sure you’ll find a way,” Jake replied, patting Bradley on the stomach, wondering when he had turned fully to face him, Rooster’s shoulder braced on the wall and slouching to bring them closer.

Bradley had always managed to extrude a sense of laissez-faire that few people could, barring whenever he lost his temper. He moved through the world with a confidence that oozed out of every pore, marking him as one of the people Jake needed to keep an eye on because Jake needed to know how to be the best, and that meant being better than the competition. And Rooster had always been his competition, despite how different they flew.

“Probably,” Bradley agreed. “You do tend to be inspiring like that.”

That got Jake to laugh this time, shaking his head as he looked over to see Halo and Yale coaching Harvard this time, the rest of the daggers drifting away for the moment since they all knew that would take some time. He looked back at Rooster, surprised to see Bradley still staring at him. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Bradley shook his head, straightening up slightly and putting some distance between them, so now Jake just felt cold. “How did Cherie’s recital go?”

“Haven’t heard it,” Jake replied, digging his phone out of his pocket to check for texts again. “They’re only three hours ahead, and she tends to go out with friends to decompress before she tells us anything, so I’m not expecting much. But hey, Odette managed to book a show, and it’s on a weekend, so I’m gonna see if I can fly out to see it even if I have to redeye there and back.”

“Could always try and catch transport,” Bradley pointed out.

“To Nashville? I mean, I could try, but I’d rather just fly economy, it’d be more comfortable,” Jake said, wrinkling his nose. “And less paperwork.”

Bradley tilted his head, conceding the point. “You’re what, ten years older than her?” he asked.

“Twelve,” Jake replied. “And six older than Odette. Mom and Dad didn’t want more than one toddler on a tour bus at a time, and they had me young.”

“Wait, wait,” Bradley said, holding up both hands. “Tour bus?”

Jake looked up, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. Told you my parents didn’t do that badly. They had a few small tours I went on as a kid. I like to blame them for my need to fly, since all I got out of it was a love of travel. Odette loved the music, and by the time they had Cherie they had decided they wanted to put roots down. They still play local when they want to.”

“So like, they’re actual musicians,” Bradley said.

“As opposed to?”

“Dreamers who think they can make it but don’t actually try?”

Jake laughed. “What, you think I ended up like this because my parents liked to half-ass things? Nah, their goals changed when they got older. They still love it; love playing and sometimes release something else. But it’s not their focus anymore, they love their jobs, and they loved being parents to us and still do.”

“Oh.” Bradley tilted his head to the side. “I dunno why I always expected you to have a shitty family.”

“You ain’t the only one,” Jake said, looking over at Javy, who was now deep in conversation with a woman who was leaning in and smiling up at him with a look that told Jake his friend was about to have a good night. “I like to counter with the idea that I have no trouble pushing myself, not because I’m runnin’ from something, but because I’ve got a soft place to land. I could wash out today, and my parents would let me bum around the house as long as I needed, and there’s security in that.”

He looked back at Bradley who was watching him, a small furrow between his brows and a thoughtful look on his face. Jake patted him on the side.  “Don’t worry about it. I never lose sleep over the assumptions people make about me.”

“Wish it were that easy for me,” Bradley said, letting out an explosive sigh and downing the bottle of beer in his hand, before looking at it with another sigh. “Want another?”

“Nah,” Jake said, waggling his still half-full one.

Nodding, Bradley left with a pat to Jake’s side, brushing past him despite the amount of space around them. Jake turned to watch him go, before looking back at the table in time to see Harvard break well enough that one of the stripes actually sank into the hole. He cheered along with the rest of the daggers who were still there before leaning back against the wall and rolling his shoulders to try and get rid of the feeling that something was wrong, and he still couldn’t figure out what was bothering him in waves.

His eyes darted around the room, wondering if rumors had been false and Candy was back before he noticed Rooster at the bar, a woman standing close to him, hand resting on his bicep. He watched as the woman leaned in and Rooster responded, leaning down a little bit more, his head turning so she could talk in his ear, and he watched as Rooster chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to reply to her. Jake watched the pair of them, eyes shifting down to where Javy was now making out with the woman he had been talking to, and was suddenly glad he had driven that night.

He looked back at Bradley, catching his eye across the room as the woman kept talking. The smile was gone, and a pensive look was on his face as he stared at Jake, who stared back. The pool tables were close enough to the bar that Jake could see Rooster raise an eyebrow, still staring intently at him, and Jake looked back. The noise in the room faded as he met Rooster’s gaze, the intensity in his eyes making Jake want to squirm, but he kept still, meeting his gaze as he raised the beer to his lips and took another swallow. He could see the question in Rooster’s gaze, but Jake had no fucking clue what Rooster was asking, but he was looking for something from Jake, so all Jake could do was lift the bottle of beer and tilt the neck toward Rooster with a smirk, silently cheering him on because hey, fingers crossed this one wouldn’t curse him.

Rooster’s eyes closed for a split second before he opened them and turned, attention back on the woman as he said something, and he laughed. Jake watched, something he couldn’t name settling into his chest as one of Rooster’s hands came and rested on the woman’s waist, large and confident, pressing in closer and leaning down, no doubt making the move that Jake had, over the years, seen more than once.

For some reason, the sight made him want to squirm and he frowned, looking down at the bottle and over to where Javy was disappearing out the door, arm over the woman’s shoulder and toward Harvard, Yale and Halo, now joined by Fritz and Omaha, all of them talking and ignoring a group of cadets who were edging closer to the table. It didn’t take long to find Fanboy, Bob, Phoenix, and Payback talking near the bar, two other Navy pilots Jake half recognized in their small group. Everyone was having a good time, and Jake felt on edge, clenching his teeth against some unnamed emotion he couldn’t fucking figure out, and it suddenly pissed him off.

Everyone was having a good time, and suddenly, all he felt was pissed off, and the last thing he wanted to do was bring down the energy, not when things between all of them were going well. He downed the rest of the beer and forced a smile onto his face as he headed toward the exit, stopping long enough to say goodbye to whatever daggers he passed, making his excuses and taking the teasing, but no one tried to stop him; they weren’t twenty anymore, and if he wanted to go to sleep early, no one cared. He made it to the door and glanced over his shoulder, managing to meet Rooster’s gaze across the room, head tilted to the side, the woman from before pressed up against his front and whispering something in his ear.

Jake paused, long enough to watch as Rooster raised an eyebrow and turned his head, lips catching the woman’s in a kiss that very quickly intensified. Jake felt a body crash into him, sorry falling from their lips that he waved off, watching as Rooster kept kissing the woman, and he could feel the emotion crawling up the back of his throat as he turned, finally finding a name for it, and that was something he suddenly didn’t have a frame of reference for.

Jealousy.

For some fucking reason he was jealous of Rooster.

Or, as some part of his brain he tried to ignore screamed, he was jealous of the woman.

The doorbell rang, and Jake paused in the middle of scrubbing a towel over his hair, feeling better and more in control of himself after the early night and hot shower when he had woken up. He had been imagining it. He had been tired and stressed from the worry that Candy might curse him. Watching Bradley kissing the other woman had just reminded him of that worry; that was it.

Nothing else.

The doorbell rang again, before whoever it was knocked. Jake sighed, grabbing his sweatshirt and pulling it on, scrubbing a hand through his hair to try and get it to lay flat in some semblance of order as he pulled open the door, greeting drying up in his throat at the sight of Rooster one hand braced on the door frame with the mid-morning sun haloing him, highlight the sun streaks in his hair, the sleeves of his long sleeve t-shirt pushed up, showing off the flex of muscle in his forearms and the tan line where his watch normally would be and well loved jeans.

“Hey,” Jake said, swallowing down the next ten things he wanted to say.

“You know I’m in love with you, right?”

Of all the things Jake expected to fall from Bradley’s lips, that hadn’t even been on the list. Hell, it wasn’t something he was aware could even be on the list. He kept staring, Bradley meeting his gaze with ease, unashamed by his confession as if it wasn’t love he had professed at nine am on a Saturday. Jake felt like a broken computer, waiting to reboot, but no one was pressing the power button.

Finally, Bradley chuckled, and Jake figured that was it, Rooster was gonna leave, but instead he stepped forward, hand reaching out to press against Jake’s stomach to shift him back enough that Rooster could keep walking inside, body brushing against Jake’s unmoving one. Jake’s head turned as he tracked Bradley as he made his way toward the living room and collapsed in the middle of the couch, long arms spread across the back of it, long legs stretched out, ankles crossed as he kept staring at Jake, clearly content to wait as long as needed.

Someone finally hit the power button, and Jake managed to close the door as he walked over, hands on his hips as he stared at Rooster, who watched him back, face even.

“The fuck?” Jake finally settled on it because it encompassed a lot, which helped.

“I said what I said,” Bradley replied, amused.

“I know what you said, I’m trying to make it make sense.”

Bradley hummed. “I love you.”

“The fuck you do?”

That made Bradley chuckle. “You’re telling me how I feel?”

“I’m wondering what the fuck is wrong with you?” Jake demanded, caught off guard and suddenly on edge.

If anything, that made Bradley’s smile grow as he bent an elbow and rested his head on his fist, staring at Jake with such stark fondness he felt naked and wished he had on at least ten more layers to try and protect himself from whatever was happening.

“What, you don’t think you’re capable of being loved?” Bradley asked, still amused and still so fucking fond that Jake wanted to snap at him to stop it.

“Oh, I’m a fucking teddy bear, I’m so goddamn loveable, but I would not say this,” Jake waved a hand between them, “has been the makings of a healthy relationship.”

“I know.”

The simple admission had Jake throwing his head up in the air and making a questioning noise at Bradley. At least that got the fondness off his face as he leaned forward, bracing elbows on his knees and staring at Jake with the blank intensity he was more used to, and stupidly, that made Jake feel more settled.

“Look. We haven’t been the nicest to each other over the years, I’ll admit to that—”

“—exactly! So you wanna fuck me, get in line. But, love? Seriously, Rooster?” Jake interrupted, not sure he wanted to know where the rest of that went.

“Yeah, Jake, love.” Bradley shrugged. “Look, believe it or not, but I know what I feel, okay?”

Jake opened his mouth to try to get a word in, but Bradley barreled on. “You push me, and yeah, we weren’t friends, but I’ve seen you around your friends, and you’re funny, and kind in your own way, determined and smart, and you just move through the world with this confidence that is intoxicating. And the past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know you better, hell, ever since the mission, but especially the last few weeks, and you’re a good person, Jake. Sure, you’re an asshole, but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. And not just because you helped me.” Here, Bradley paused and finally looked nervous, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “When I got cursed and figured out what it was, half the reason I went to find you was that I was kind of hoping it was going to be true love's kiss, you know? That maybe you felt the same I did, and had been hiding it. But it didn’t fix it, and so I pretended I was aiming for hate to try to protect me and my feelings. But I never expected you to hate me.”

Jake bit the inside of his cheek to keep from doing something stupid, like apologizing. Bradley met his eye, and for some reason, Jake had the feeling Bradley knew what he had been thinking. He stood, stepping closer but still keeping his distance, but even the small loss of space between them made Jake’s head spin.

“And honestly, I’m kinda glad it wasn’t a true love's kiss,” Bradley continued, “because it means I get to watch you fall in love with me.”

Silence rang, and Jake stared at Bradley before he let out a long breath. “And people say I have an ego.”

Bradley laughed, eyes crinkling as he stared at Jake, fondness back. Jake shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to put the world back in order. “Shit, Bradshaw.”

Bradley shrugged, still shameless in a way that Jake had always appreciated.

“What makes you think that I want you like that anyway?” Jake asked, needing to know what Bradley had seen because Jake wasn't even sure about what he was feeling.

“That little display last night.”

“What display.”

Bradley stepped closer. “The jealousy.”

Flashes of Bradley making out with that random woman last night wormed their way back into Jake’s brain, and he fought the scowl and ignored the feeling sitting in his chest. “I don’t do jealousy.”

“That’s not what it looked like to me last night. Looked like you saw me kissing Jade and then stormed off.”

Jake suddenly hated the name Jade with a fervent and violent passion. Not that he would tell Bradley that. “That wasn’t jealousy, that was…”

“Was what, Jake?”

“Not jealousy,” Jake finished, hearing how weak it was.

“Why are you fighting this?” Bradley asked, sounding legitimately confused as he tilted his head to the side, studying Jake.

“I’m not fighting this.”

“Come on, you are, this could be good.” Bradley stepped closer until Jake could feel the heat of him. “The past few weeks were good.”

“Are you really saying the past few weeks when you could only sing were the good days?” Jake demanded, wondering when Bradley had gotten close enough that he could reach out and touch.

Another shrug. “I was made for loving you baby, and you were made for loving me.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that was where the conversation went, but it made Jake laugh in surprise, shaking his head as he shoved Bradley back, who grinned at him. “Fuck off. I still wasn’t jealous.”

“Whatever you say, baby,” Bradley said, stepping closer until they were almost touching. “Look, just stop.”

Jake, who had been in the middle of trying to formulate another argument, lifted his chin. “What?”

“You’re trying to find a way to get out of this because that's what you think you should do, but you don't actually want to, so just cross your arms, huff in agreement, and let me take you to breakfast,” Bradley said, reaching out and wrapping a hand around Jake’s wrist and squeezed before he let go.

“You’re so fucking sure of yourself,” Jake murmured, fighting the urge to rub over his wrist where Bradley had touched him.

“You know it works for you.”

“What makes you so sure?” Jake asked, because it wasn’t that Bradley was wrong, but to Jake, everything was moving fast, like he had woken up in a different world, and he was still trying to figure out the shape of things and Bradley’s casual, easy confidence — a confidence that Jake normally had himself — made it feel too easy.

“Hope, mostly,” Bradley admitted, shrugging his shoulders as he stepped back into Jake’s space, and this time, Jake didn’t shove him back. “If you really don’t want to do something, just point me toward the door, and I’ll go and drop it, promise.”

It would be the easier thing to do, because Jake wasn’t even sure what he was doing, not when he was only beginning to get an inkling of what he was feeling. But he had never done the easy thing, and he had never bothered thinking before he leaped.  

Crossing his arms, Jake scowled before he huffed, making sure to blow air into Bradley’s face, watching the smile bloom into laughter as Jake let the scowl fade in favor of a careful smile. He wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t love Bradley; he really didn’t. Bradley hadn’t been an option as far as he was concerned, but now he was, and Jake was willing to give it a shot.

“Thought so.” Bradley paused, and for the first time, a worried expression crossed his face. “You know I’m not looking for a one-time thing, right? I know I’ve got a reputation, and I don’t date, but I want to date you.”

There was a question in there, something Jake wanted to prod and poke at, especially when he remembered Bradley's small nod when Jake had asked him if there was someone, but there would be time for that later.

“Soooo, what I’m hearing is you don’t think you can date well enough to want me to put a ring on it?” he offered, raising an eyebrow as he lifted his chin, staring Bradley down.

Bradley’s smile grew. “Oh, baby. Don’t worry. You’ll be begging for my ring.”

Part of Jake wanted to snark back, it would be an easy thing to fall back on, but instead, all his brain could focus on was the prickle of Bradley's mustache from that fateful kiss a few weeks back, and how it made him feel, and if he still felt that way or not. Curiosity had always been his biggest sin, which made it easy for Jake to reach up and cup Bradley's face. This close, he could make out the small twitch of Bradley's eyebrows, confusion settling in even as Jake shifted forward, intent clear. Bradley wasn't stupid, and he finally got it as hands settled onto his hips and yanked him forward until they collided with a huff of air. "Smooth," Jake muttered, leaning up to kiss Bradley before he could get another word in.

Bradley kissed him back immediately, and it was different from the kiss a few weeks ago, but it was better now that he was participating. Jake might have only clean-shaven men before, but he was adaptable, and he was finding he enjoyed the feeling. He pulled back and saw the happiness on Bradley’s face, the flush on his cheeks, and he leaned in to kiss Bradley again, wanting to see how far down that flush went.

Bradley pulled back before he could. “Alright, Bagman, we should get breakfast before we do anything.”

“Sure,” Jake said, leaning in to kiss him again, wanting to learn the shape of Bradley’s mouth against his own. Bradley didn’t fight it, but this time Jake pulled back, and Bradley tried to follow him. “Jacoby.”

Bradley frowned, opening his eyes to meet Jake's. “Huh?”

“My name’s Jacoby. You kept wondering about Odette and Cherie for some reason, and I never figured out why, so yeah. Jacoby.”

The frown cleared, and realization struck. “Oh, yeah. They had interesting names that were also kind of pretty. Wondered about yours and if it was Jacob or just Jake. But Jacoby fits better.”

Bradley nodded as if that made all the sense in the world. Jake gaped at him for a moment before he shook his head and laughed.

“Fucking weirdo,” he murmured, but he pulled in Bradley to kiss him again, feeling pretty fucking confident he had made the right decision, terror and interest thrumming underneath his breastbone, but he had a good feeling about this, and he couldn’t help but hum as he pressed in closer to Bradley.

Bradley paused in kissing him and pulled back. “Are you humming a fucking Beatles song?”

Jake grinned. “Maybe.” He kept humming before shifting to singing, a childhood of growing up around musicians, making it easy for him. “Want me to stop?”

“Nahhh,” Bradley shook his head before kissing Jake again, and all other thoughts fled his mind.

“..something in the way she woos me…”