Rooster has a long time girlfriend. They live different and separate lives. They're comfortable with each other or more so comfortable with the idea of having a significant other. He's gone all the time and she's free to live her life as she chooses.
They went to high school together. After ten years of radio silence, Bradley Bradshaw, who had a sad, little, pathetic crush on her in theatre club, was a solid ten waltzing around their class reunion in dress whites like a beacon of hotness. She swiftly locked him down in front of an audience of people, who wondered why she hadn't done more. A beautiful girl like her should have been in pictures. Her Bradley was a Naval aviator, a fighter pilot, an officer, a Lieutenant. His every accomplishment was her accomplishment, a moment to brag.
She adored taking him around and showing him off during the couple of times of year he was around. Conversely, she didn't enjoy being taken around by him as much. But, she did enjoy dressing to slay. Body contour dress, stiletto heels, she was dressed to kill. She felt like killing having to climb in that damned blue bronco! He could afford something better many times over, but he picked her up in the rust bolt and brought her to this dive bar. She hadn't seen him in almost a year and they were at the Hard Deck!"
She was annoyed, and didn't mind saying so even as he helped her out of the truck. Moreso, she couldn't care less to engage in his explanation that he wasn't in town for a social visit. He was home for serious business, and wanted to see who was working with. Whatever. He could spend some time with her at some place other than this hovel on the beach.
She already wasn't feeling it. Getting hailed by Natasha to wade through the crowd, surprisingly, didn't improve her mood from picking her way through the sand. Bradley greeted his people and introduced her. She offered her pretty, practiced smile. As soon as he accepted a beer from a coworker, she requested her own drink. He offered the beer to her, but she had to set him straight that she doesn't drink beer anymore. She waited there with all those strangers! Well, she knew Natasha, but there was no love lost between them. She wasn't jealous of that mousey little brunette. But, the idea of her boyfriend having a female best friend didn't sit well in the five years they had been together.
It took a little while for Bradley to come back with her new drink, a Cosmopolitan. She took one sip and scowled. It was far too strong. When Bradley stalked off to get a glass of wine since the bartender clearly couldn't be trusted to make a decent cocktail, the smarmy blond guy leaned in close to be heard over the noise and asked, "You're a piece of work aren't you?" She rolled her eyes and told him how she felt about dingy bars.
She sipped her wine and bided her time to get out of there. After popular demand, and unfortunately for her, Bradley did his song and dance to that tired old tune his dad used to love. His dad had been gone for thirty years, and his mom almost twenty. She couldn't understand these public tributes. While Bradley collected his accolades she waited impatiently. The smarmy blond sidled up again. Maybe he was interested. He wasn't bad looking. "Bradshaw put on quite the show, but you don't seem to be a fan."
"He's a good singer. Just wished he could get some newer material." She smiled openly at the blond, "I didn't catch your name earlier."
"Seresin, ma'am."
She leaned a little closer and asked,"You got a first name sailor?" A little flirtation would either make the time go by faster. Or make Bradley jealous enough to move his ass.
"I do, but I'm not inclined to share it with you."
"Excuse me!"
"You're excused, Brittney. You don't seem to like Rooster and therefore I don't like you."
All attempts at civility were clearly useless, especially in his company. "You're a bit of a dick aren't you?"
"Yep, but not yours."
She was still offended, "I don't want you."
"Wouldn't matter if you did. You're not my type. l like 'em loyal, like Rooster." He gestured to Bradley who was still talking to Natasha.
"What a ridiculous little nickname." She scoffed again.
The smarmy dropped from Blondie's face. "Nickname? You have no respect for what he does. You know what, my name is Jacob"Hangman" Seresin."
"And I couldn't care less." She turned from him.
"Just thought you should know the name of the man who's going to take your man." He stood tall, smirking, toothpick hanging low.
Brittney laughed at him, "You little twink." She hurled at him, although he wasn't small in any way, "You don't have the equipment to take my man."
He stuck his hand out, "May the baddest bitch win."
“What do you mean, 'No.” There’s no way you’re not interested in this?” Brittney stepped back with confidence to let him see what he was missing. He just spent hours talking to her and only her.
“Listen, Britt, you’re pretty, sure,” Brittney scoffed. She was not merely pretty. Coyote continued, “But Rooster is my friend, my squad, he’s like a brother-in-law to me.”
Her head snapped up at that, “That bastard!” She had been played.
She stood there on the sidewalk looking at the taillights of the truck. She could see it in her head, Coyote striding back into that bar on his long, lean legs, walking right up to Bradley, telling him how Brittney invited him in. Bradley would have no reason not to believe him.
She wasn’t going to take this. She ran over to her BMW without taking a moment to appreciate it like she normally did. She loved her car; she was less than a year from paying it off, and that damn Hangman threatened to take that away from her! Bradley paid half her car note. She slowed at the gated exit, waiting for the gate to lift. That sonofabitch wanted to take that away from her, too. She wanted to buy her own condo, but hadn’t taken into account the condo dues, and he paid those for her. He didn’t have a mortgage, he had his Mom’s dinky little beach cottage, he didn’t have a car note since he kept his Dad’s clunker going, so it was only fair he paid some of her expenses. She couldn’t let Hangman take Bradley from her.
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” She smacked the wheel to emphasize each word. That damned Hangman! Bradley was the perfect boyfriend. It wasn’t her fault; a girl gets lonely when her boyfriend is gone for months at a time, and she’s free to pursue any man she wants to scratch that itch and keep those bed warmers from getting ideas by telling them about her perfect boyfriend.
Brittney marched back in Hard Deck, eyes scanning until she located that smug bastard, running a hand down Bradley’s back. Probably telling him how he was going to make it all better. Well, she was going to see about that!
“Could you kindly unhand my boyfriend?” Brittney tugged on Bradley's arm.
“Britt, what are you doing back here?” Bradley asked.
“Listen, Babe,” She rushed to get her side of the story out. “Don’t believe whatever Coyote told you. I didn’t hit on him, I didn’t ask him up to our place.”
Bradley looked shocked. “Javy didn’t say anything like that...” Brittney couldn’t help but follow Bradley's gaze and saw Coyote lift his chin and raise his beer with a smug little grin.
Before she could say anything, Hangman was there with a possessive arm wrapped around Bradley. “Yeah, Britt, Yote’s didn’t say anything, but you were saying some interesting things, do go on.”
She stood there gaping for a moment. “Did you set me up?”
“Wasn't hard,” he admitted with an incredibly smug look on his face.
“Bradley,” Brittney began to plead, “don't listen to them. I was set up.”
Bradley snatched his arm out of her grip. “How exactly were you set up?”
The color was rising in cheekbones and she knew he was pissed. Her Bradley was sweet and liked to please, but when riled up, he could be mean. He was hardly around. Brittney mastered the art of acting endearing when he was, though. In those moments she let the facade slip, and she snapped, however? He'd snap right back. She couldn’t let that happen. She tried to get control, “Bradley, now let's not make a scene.”
“Cut the shit, Britt.” She didn’t have her sweet eager to please Bradley now, meanness leaked from his tone and it was turned on her. “You came to start something, so I want to hear how Jake set you up. Was it when he bought me a drink and revealed you didn't know what I like or where I've been for the past year?” Do you not listen to anything I say? Was it when Jake was kind enough to get someone to hang out with you despite all your efforts to offend my squad? I'm pretty sure Jake didn't ask you to feel Javy up in public.”
“I did not...” Britt tried to defend. She didn't feel Coyote up. Did she? She didn't remember exactly, but she had a tendency to touch when she was feeling flirty and he was so damn pretty.
“You had your hands all over him!” Bradley snapped back.
She might have been touching Coyote, but she wasn’t going to take Bradley’s shit. “You mean like Hangman had his grubby little hands all over you!”
“Jake doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Are you kidding me?! He’s been stuck to you all night. He’s stuck to you now.” She reached out and pushed that blond in the chest, trying to shake him off her boyfriend. He didn’t budge.
“I’m not going anywhere, darling.” He winked at her.
“Bradley,” she whined, frustrated, “he's trying to break us up. He told me so the last time we were here!”
She saw the change hit Bradley’s face seconds before he went rigid and wrenched himself from Hangman's hold. She could turn this around. “This little twink said he wanted you for himself.”
“Don't call him that!” Bradley snapped loudly and hard enough to turn heads. She wasn't in the clear yet, but she wasn’t going back down.
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true!” She gestured to Jake. “ He’s trying to make me look bad so he can have you all to himself!”
For the first time, she saw Hangman’s cool slip. She had him now.
“Is it true, Jake?” Bradley asked in his earnest way with his big brown eyes. “Did you set out to break me and Britt up?”
And just like that the asshole was back. His spine snapped straight. “Not something I would deny, Roo.”
“So you found out about my pathetic crush and decided to fuck with me some more.” Bradley sounded crushed and Britt was ready to swoop back in and lead him out, while she had the upper hand until she processed his words. She stilled the hand reaching for Bradley. “Why would you do something like that?”
Hangman got in Bradley's face, bravado intact. “Simple. I want you for myself.”
Bradley snorted. “Since when?!”
“Since forever. Since I lost my nerve during that bird strike over the Atlantic and you talked me through it, talked me back to the boat. Never teased me. You were kind to me. I thought I was special and I found you were kind to everyone. Just the best person I ever met. Far too good for someone like me. Yeah, I’ve been a dick to you. I wanted you to hate me. Needed you to hate me. Found out you had a girl and it made it easier knowing you were happy, knowing you were loved like you deserved, but then I met Brittney.” He paused, “So fuck being noble. I might not deserve someone as good as you, but she can’t have you.”
Bradley was buying it. He was being sucked by this pretty boy staring into his eyes. “I love you Bradshaw, and I am going to put in the work every day to show you how perfect you are.”
Brittney was floored. She couldn’t believe Bradley was into this. He was looking at Hangman like he was the answer to all his dreams.
“Tough shit, Hangman. He’s mine.” Brittney reached for Bradley only to have Hangman whip Bradley out of her reach and place himself between her and her boyfriend. There was a moment she was beside herself, she was in a bar fighting over a man. A man who paid half her car note and half of her mortgage, since he believed her when she told him her condo dues had doubled...She needed to win this fight.
Hangman lifted his chin and squared up, “Had him Britt. You had him.”
“That’s not your decision, Hangman. This is between me and Bradley. Five years we’ve been together, we went to high school together. You can’t decide to stop being a dick and buy him a beer to ruin what we have.”
“I’ve known Rooster for over a decade. Two tours we bunked together. I’ve spent more time with him than you have. More importantly, I love him and you don’t. You tried to sleep with my best friend less than an hour ago. Rooster’s kind, but he ain’t stupid.”
“That's his word against mine!”
Bradley stepped from behind Jake, “Rooster is here and can speak for himself. Britt, it's over. You embarrassed the shit out of me tonight.” He declared. “You take me around like a show pony for your friends and family, but the moment I bring you to a celebration in honor of my squad? You’re rude to Penny, don’t know what I like or where I’ve been, tried to sleep with Javy, and ran in here to tell on yourself. I can’t believe I’ve already wasted five years on you. I’m not wasting a second more.”
Brittney couldn’t believe this was happening. What about her car? “What am I going to tell my parents?”
“You could tell them you’re a whore.” Britt heard it but she didn’t know who said it. Bradley’s squad had gathered around to witness her humiliation. She looked at Hangman.
“You did this!” she howled. “You did this to me!”
“I didn’t do anything to you, Britt.” He tapped his chest, “ Hangman. I just gave you the rope.”
Brittney saw red. She couldn’t remember everything that she shrieked and swore at Hangman. She remembered the sound of a whistle, the sound of ringing, and the yell, “Get her out of my bar!”
Natasha’s face was wreathed in smiles when she and another woman stepped out of the group, each getting a firm grip on her arms. Brittney pulled her arms into her sides, failing to snatch her arm from Natasha’s grip.
“Brittney, please try me. I beg you. It would be like an early Christmas present.” Natasha threatened her, and Britt knew she would make good on it.
“Yeah, Britt! Try Phoenix!” Hangman cheered.
Natasha gripped her arm while Brittney walked out with as much dignity as possible, even when Natasha yelled over her shoulder, “Hangman, your drinks are on me the rest of the month.
Brittney collapsed, lying in the sand for a few minutes. She could barely believe this. How could she have lost so miserably? Regardless, she rolled over and lifted herself up. She shook the sand off herself and approached the bar window.
It’s almost as if the universe read her mind, and it replied, “Believe it.”
Through the bar window, she could see Bradley, playing that same tired old song with Hangman draped across his back.
A Javy/Natasha and Hangster college AU. Natasha does not have time for two pining dumbasses in her life, realises she can get rid of both of them on one go. Idiots.
PART ONE PART TWO (Hangster)
(Reminder for asexual Natasha Trace).
PART THREE
“He’s kind of an asshole.”
“Well, better you know now that the pretty outsides don’t match pretty insides?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it…” Bradley says, and he looks a little dreamy about it and she rolls her eyes.
“Oh my god. There’s something wrong with the inside of your head…”
“He’s smart huh?”
“Depends on your definition of smart.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he likes you…”
“Natasha!”
She dodges away from the hit he tries, and fails, to land, laughing with amusement.
“You two deserve each other. He would not shut up about you…” she trails off, tilts her head on the side. “Do you think he’ll make you happy?” Bradley shrugs at that and Natasha supposes that’s fair, it’s a first date and she’s spent more time with Jake at this rate. However, judging from the stubble rash her brother is sporting the activities she does with Jake, and what Jake and Bradley got up to were wildly different. “I hope he remains focussed on his studies.”
“I get the impression he has to be the best… so I’m pretty sure he won’t be letting his studies slide.”
“Yeah well, Mav was all excited that you were dating an engineer. Said if you weren’t going to be one yourself the next best thing would be marrying one.”
Bradley squawks at that and she lets out a cackle herself, because Mav has not let up about Bradley’s chosen career not being in the path of either himself or his father. The fact that Bradley has followed Ice’s more artistic pursuits, with poetry writing, and music and acting… well. It makes Ice happy because it gives him something to lord over Maverick.
“It was one date, we’re not getting married…”
“Don’t tell Maverick that, he’s planning your wedding.”
“Ugh.”
… … …
Javy cannot remember a time when he didn’t know Jake, he’s always been his best friend even when people have told him that they don’t make sense. Their families aren’t tight, but he’s as welcome in the Seresin family home as Jake is welcome in the Machado house. Both sets of parents accept that they come as a package deal, ever since they married each other on the playground nearly twenty years ago.
Him and Jake both quickly become common fixtures in the Bradshaw family home, and he hadn’t even thought they might be overstaying their welcome until by sheer dumb luck his mom called when he was there and demanded to speak with Mrs Bradshaw. He’s then listened in mortified horror as she reassured his mom that he definitely wasn’t overstaying his welcome, nor eating them out of house and home, that Bradley was more the capable of doing that without help… and then she’d said Javy had impeccable manners and always offered to help with dinner and the dishes.
He’s glad for Natasha’s friendship, makes it a little less lonely when Jake’s exceedingly scarce spare time is suddenly monopolised by Bradley. He’s learning all about Jake’s new boyfriend from Natasha. She reminds him of Jake in a lot of ways, a little bit defensive about her place in the world but someone that relaxes and laughs easily once they’re comfortable with who they’re talking to. Like Jake she’s also someone who demands excellence every step of the way. He’s glad he’s used to taking it as a compliment when he’s expected to step up. It means they know he can.
As weeks slip into months and they end up spending more time together, often the three of them, Bradley off practicing some type of musical instrument or learning lines for some type or recital or show. Jake is utterly besotted and Javy is happy for him. He looks at Natasha sometimes, thinks that she’s pretty, but she talks to him exactly the same way she talks to Jake. Still not as comfortable and scathing as she talks to Bradley, but he knows siblings are a special case.
… … …
Natasha isn’t surprised that Jake manages his course work and his new relationship with Bradley easily. He’s a stickler for being on time and also somewhat of a perfectionist, which amuses her no end considering Bradley’s somewhat spontaneous approach to life. When she raises it once, over a different study session months later she gets one of Jake’s raised eyebrows.
“Bradley understands timing perfectly. He’s musical and acts, both of those require impeccable timing. He might not plan what we’re going to do for out dates, but he’s never once been late to pick me up, and neither have any of our dates been failures.”
She simply rolls her eyes and accepts the bottle of water from Javy, who catches her eye and gives her a wink. Jake can take himself a little too seriously, and it can definitely come across as being a raging asshole, but she’s come to appreciate his work ethic and it helps that he’s Bradley’s boyfriend and her friend now, because she feels less singled out when her parents’ friends call on them in class. Jake and Javy have both informed her they don’t get called on any more than anyone else, and they’ve crunched numbers about it, show her the stats.
She gets used to effectively having three brothers rather than one. Bradley is an annoying shit, noisy and big, always in her space poking and prodding, asking her what she’s doing. Jake doesn’t quite follow Bradley’s lead, but he doesn’t discourage him, although he does offer a satisfactory distraction enough times that she can get rid of them together often enough. So it’s a good thing that out of the three of them Javy is her favourite. He’s quietly intelligent, has a way of thinking that is more measured, adds more depth and forces her to rethink some of her assumptions when it comes to design choices.
“You and Javy huh?”
“What?”
“You and Javy. When we came home last night you guys were passed out together on the sofa.”
“So?” Natasha asks, frowning because all they’d been doing was watching a documentary on the industrial revolution.
“You and him aren’t… you know?”
Oh. She rolls her eyes, head already shaking in the negative.
“If you can’t say it you shouldn’t be doing it. You know what mum and dad say.”
“Together. Secretly dating. Fucking. Making sweet sweet love…”
She punches him then, doesn’t hold back and he yelps, not expecting it for some reason she has no idea about. He should know her better by now.
“Me and Javy aren’t anything other than friends. You know I don’t like people like that…”
Bradley’s lips twist at that and she lets out a breath, because despite everything he just doesn’t get it. Their mum has tried explaining it to him, had explained it to her and she’d simply felt things click into place, understanding dawning like developing fluid on old-timey photographs her dad does as a hobby. She’d felt seen. Understood. So fucking grateful that there were no more comments about having a boyfriend or a girlfriend. How her disinterest was somehow a phase. She knows it might be, but she doesn’t need other people telling her that. She’s never looked at someone and wanted to touch them, which is why she has no patience for all of Bradley’s dramatics.
That said, she has no patience for his dramatics on a good day.
… … …
“I really like her…” Javy says with a quiet sigh, glad that he’s actually going to have the summer break away, maybe nurse his crush on Natasha away from both Jake and Bradley’s eyes. Hell, even the Bradshaw parents sometimes look at him with what he can only think of as pity. It’s fine. He’ll get over it.
“Yeah dude. I know. Just… think you need to let that ship sail. She’s not into you. Not that way.”
“Yeah… I know.”
“I’m sorry bro.”
“Yeah, me too.”
… … …
She realizes she misses Javy about three weeks into her internship, misses his quieter presence and calmer nature. Jake being there every day throws it into stark relief and she sends Javy a grumpy message, attaches a photo of Jake wearing his hardhat and high-vis vest because he’d been bitching about it. Javy doesn’t reply for a couple of days, but then there’s a selfie with him wearing similar gear, just the title Twins! and she grins at her phone. It continues like that over the summer and when he mentions he met someone she’s nothing but happy for him.
… … …
They start their third year of their engineering degree with steely determination, knowing it will be difficult. His crush on Natasha has fortunately mellowed, and he’s glad he never said anything, didn’t want to make things awkward. Can introduce his girlfriend Monique to them all and doesn’t feel like he’s settling. She slots into their group easily, is also studying engineering but is doing software. He’d met her while on his internship and it had gone from strength to strength, although they both admit that not knowing anyone else and being both new on the same day had helped break the ice.
A small part of him, a very very small part, wonders if Natasha ever thinks of him as more than a friend. He doesn’t expect so. He treats her the same as always, suspects his crush is never going to disappear completely. Monique doesn’t suspect anything, and even if she does she doesn’t seem to mind how much time they spend at the Bradshaw house. She’s welcomed as well, and her and Natasha end up becoming friends as well and he supposes that’s just something him and Monique will have in common.
Friendship with Natasha.
… … …
“You’ve never had sex?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Nope.”
“Huh.”
Natasha lets out an annoyed sigh, they’re meant to working on some coding, her mechatronics robotics elective meaning she’s on this project without either Jake or Javy, and Monique has the brain for coding she doesn’t. She would get there eventually, but Monique would just get her there faster. But of course they’d started talking about boys. Well, Monique had started talking. Maybe she should go and get Bradley, he’d at least be able to contribute to the conversation.
“Look, I’m asexual. I don’t find anyone sexually attractive.”
“Wow.”
She narrows her eyes, wonders where Monique might take this, is prepared for anything and everything now that she’s years into her college experience and used to explaining it. Wishes she didn’t have to.
“Do you want to ask me about it?”
“About what?”
“Sex,” Monique says with an eyeroll and Natasha huffs with annoyance.
“No thanks, I’m good.”
It does make her look at Javy and Monique closer, because while she hasn’t ever felt sexual attraction, she definitely knows what attractive people look like. She knows she’s attractive, enough guys have asked her out, complimented her on her looks. She knows, objectively, that Jake is hot, and not only because she’s heard Bradley monologues about him. She’s heard enough comments in passing about Bradley as well to know people find him attractive, but he’s her brother and that makes her lip curl in distaste.
Javy is attractive too, she supposes, Monique definitely seems to think so, and Jake is never shy paying him compliments; although she suspects it’s because it makes Bradley a little jealous, and Jake likes that. She finds herself watching them, curious. Monique is definitely pretty. Most of the time she doesn’t feel like she’s missing out at all, but sometimes… sometimes she looks and wishes she could maybe feel it. Experience it. Then she shakes it off. She has friends she loves, and amazing parents, and an annoying brother in Bradley.
Life is fine.
… … …
He and Monique manage a summer doing long distance, and it feels like they passed an ultimate test, undertaking internships in separate time zones. They come back for their final year bubbling with happiness at seeing each other and decide to move into a small one-bedroom apartment together. It only works out because Jake moves in with the Bradshaw’s, Bradley’s parents insisting on them living there and saving money on rent so that they can focus on their studies. Javy doesn’t have that luxury, and neither does Monique. However together they can afford their little apartment and he feels quite grown up.
… … …
They’re working on their prototype, much bigger and more serious this time; final year projects which will consist of a large chunk of their final grade. Jake is doing a solo project which suits her fine, because she cannot deal with his stress spirals, has Bradley on speed dial so he can come and deal with him if required. Her and Javy though are paired together; she knows it’s likely because Mav wants them to be. She’s working on the coding and soldering, while Javy is working on the gear ratio, their disciplines now suitably complimentary to one another.
“Fuck yeah, we did it!”
He raises both his hands in the air for a high five, laughing with it and she smacks her palms to his, her elation mirrored in his smile
His arm comes down around her shoulder, shaking her with excitement and she grins wider, her exuberance matching his.
He’s in profile, focussing on the gears, pair of tweezers in hand as he moves some part around and her insides do a funny little swoop, like she’s in a car going down an unexpected dip in the road which is abruptly followed by a flood of tingly warmth.
Oh.
Oh.
Well.
That’s new.
Different.
She shakes herself mentally, doesn’t know if she likes the feeling overly much; she’s not going to act on it. Can’t and won’t. Had no idea if she would even like exploring it further. No point ruining a friendship over maybes. Sexual attraction doesn’t mean compatibility, and anyway, Javy is happy and in love with Monique.
She’s been fine and will continue to be fine.
… … …
Javy is with Monique for nearly three and a half years before they break up, and part of him is heartbroken, the ring in his pocket a heavy weight rather than the start of a new chapter. He has friends, but none of them are Jake, Bradley or Natasha. So he finds a new job and moves back across the country to be closer to them, crashes on Jake’s sofa before he turns up on Natasha’s doorstep and begs for mercy.
“They keep forgetting I’m there…”
“I know. Why do you think I refused to live with them?”
“Always knew you were smarter than me.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
It’s easy living with her, her guest bed comfortable and she’s considerate. She knows his favourite foods and brand of coffee, stocks up on his snacks and cleans up after herself. He tries to match it, doesn’t want her to regret letting him move in; breaks out his cooking skills on the night he knows she’s working late, admits he really enjoys vacuuming, a task she seems to loathe. He thinks his crush might return, then realises his feelings for Natasha are deep, nothing like when he was a teenager. His feelings have been tempered with time, age and maturity, and he finds their shared moments fill him with an enduring warmth.
… … …
“You okay? You seem… a little on edge.”
“I’m fine,” she snaps and Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up.
Fuck. Now he’ll definitely know something is up.
“Sorry, just, stressed at work,” she lies, and Bradley’s eyes narrow.
“I thought you said that big project was all finished and you were in a quiet period.”
“It is, I just… sorry. My mind is caught up on some things.”
And it is, not least Jake and Bradley making their engagement party their actual wedding is something she feels like she should have seen coming. It doesn’t matter, she’d be there either way. Her and Javy’s congratulatory speech only needing a few tweaks to turn it into a best-man/best-woman joint speech. It’s the warring emotions of both wanting what Bradley has and somehow determined to not want it so that she stops feeling like she’s missing out somehow. She shakes her head and goes back to concentrating on dancing with Bradley, knows she’ll be expected to dance with her dad and then likely Uncle Mav, if not absolutely every person somehow included in their big extended family.
… … …
He’s drunk, and Natasha is definitely not sober, both tired after the all-night party that the surprise wedding became. They’re half-staggering, half-supporting one another as they make their way into their apartment. It’s closer to their normal wake up time of six than it is to midnight, which was when he and Natasha both had started making noises about leaving. Bradley and Jake had not let them go and neither of them had fought that hard. It’s not like they get married every day.
“Come on, shoes off…”
He kicks off his shoes, tie already hanging lose around his neck. Natasha’s heels have been hanging from her fingers by the straps since they walked into the building, and she drops them to the floor and shrugs off the light wrap, dropping that on the sofa as she heads toward her bedroom. He follows, wants to brush his teeth and drink a couple of glasses of water and then fall into his bed and sleep.
Natasha obviously has the same idea, and it’s a little odd the domesticity of it, brushing their teeth and preparing for bed after changing into their respective sleeping clothes. They usually take turns in the bathroom, but she’s leaning against him as she brushes, like she still needs the support and he just lets her, enjoys the closeness. Remembers when she used to be more physically affectionate, years ago when they were still at University. He presses out a couple of Tylenol and throws them back with a drink of water, offers her the bottle and she laughs quietly as she takes it, tapping out some tablets and then taking the glass from him as well.
It happens so fast he almost misses it, but sees her reflection in the mirror as she moves toward him, the kiss she presses to his lips is quick and cool, her lips already curving into a smile as she pulls away. He’d put it down to the same kind of friendly gesture they’ve exchanged over the years, but then she speaks and he feels his entire world view shift on its axis.
“I wish that you’d be okay with the way I love you…”
Just like that he’s stone cold sober, like a bucket of ice water has been thrown on him and he repeats the words over and over as he watches her walk to her room, only knocking into the wall once. She’s drunk. He’s also drunk, no matter how sober he might be suddenly feeling…
He gets no sleep. Instead lies in bed all night and things about what ifs and maybes. He really needs to talk to Natasha.
… … …
She wakes up and other than being tired she feels fine, no headache and no furry teeth. Memories are hazy, but her feet are sore which speaks to a night of dancing. She pads out to the kitchen, can smell coffee and is grateful again that Javy is such a thoughtful roommate. Speaking of, he’s sitting at the island, hands wrapped around a mug and his eyes are fixed on her as she walks in.
“Morning…” he starts, and he looks tired. Serious.
“Morning. Thanks for the coffee…”
“Of course. Any time. You sleep okay?”
“Yeah. Not long enough, but I was out like a light. You?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because one of my best friends said they wished I’d be okay with the way that they love me.”
She blinks, because that’s a thought she’s had multiple times, but she’s never voiced it aloud. Never wanted to put the wish out into the world to have it snatched out of the air and crushed. She swallows, suddenly nervous. Wonders if he’s about to tell her he’s moving out. That he doesn’t want to be friends any more. That he didn’t know. Wonders if he’s going to want to kiss her or, or, or…
“Natasha… deep breaths. Shh. It’s okay… can I… can I give you a hug?”
“I’m not fragile Javy!” she snaps, and he’s already on his feet and beside her and she’s glad he’s offering because a hug is exactly what she needs right now. Wants to be grounded and have her thoughts stop spiralling. And someone who wants to hug her isn’t someone that wants to stop being her friend. Or move out. They’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.
“You don’t remember telling me you wished that, huh?”
“No…” she says, whisper quiet into the side of his neck and she can feel his heart beating, fast. Her own stomach is churning and she’s glad she doesn’t have to meet his eyes.
“Natasha… Would you go on a date with me?”
She pulls back then, laughs wetly, throat tight, already shaking her head. God she wants.
“You don’t want to date me.”
“How about you let me make my own mind up about that. I’d very much like to date you…”
“Javy… you know I’m not…”
“Not what?” Javy asks, and there’s an edge of challenge to his voice then, which is new. Like he doesn’t want to hear her talk about parts of herself that she sometimes hates.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever… want sex.”
“Okay,” Javy states, and she shakes her head again, steps away. Javy steps with her, leaving space between them but his arms are still looped around her waist, he’s studying her face as if gauging her mood. She chews on her lip, knows he’ll immediately let go if she steps away again or simply asks.
“It’s usually a deal breaker.”
“A deal breaker would be you saying you don’t want to date me. And you haven’t said that.”
“I…” she starts, because he’s right and she loves that while also being terrified. “You’ll change your mind.”
“Natasha… you might change your mind. Are the maybes a reason to not even try?”
She blinks, hadn’t thought about that.
“I… I guess not. We’ll try it out then.”
“Hmm. And make alterations to the design as we go. Figure out what works best for us, build on it, discard the bits that don’t work…”
“Only you would treat our relationship like an engineering problem that needs to be solved…”
“I think approaching it like that works perfectly for us. And it’s only us that matter in this. So. Will you go on a date with me?”
nothing on this god's green earth can convince me that peter parker doesn't have an ao3 account where he is elbows deep in a 'rise of skywalker' fix-it fic. like, fully invested in it, been writing it pre-spider bite with ned, who is just as enthusiastic about it. but the thing is, it's really hard to do updates when you are literally spider-man.
every three months he'll post and in the author's note there's some shit like "sorry this took a while, i got shot seven times :/" or "i know it's been a minute, i literally got hit by a bus and then stabbed in the leg, but i'm all good!" or sometimes ned would log in and post with a note "hey i'm a friend posting on the author's behalf, they're healing from severe hypothermia but promised an update, so here it is!"
and the fic just gets increasingly more popular for the author notes alone. a good handful of the comments are something along the lines of "i'm not even in the star wars fandom, i'm just here to see if the author is good" or "every update i cheer for another day the author gets to live at this point"
and any reader who is a native new yorker kind of pieces together that holy shit the author might be spider-man because the timeline adds up, and they just fully embrace it. spider-man will stop a robbery and the guy behind the counter will ask when the next chapter will be up. spider-man returns a stolen backpack to a girl and she'll tell him that he "really got poe's voice down so well, it's really impressive."
ned thinks it is hilarious. mj finds out about the fic from twitter, to peter's absolute horror, and changes peter's contact name to "friendly neighborhood ao3 author". but the worst thing to happen is after an avengers battle where peter took a pretty big hit and ends up in med-bay. and during a press conference, when someone asks how spider-man is healing, tony just drops "spidey won't be down for too long. the star wars fic will be updated within the week, probably."
What if I wrote a fic where Ice is like. Obsessed with Batman, and it’s lowkey common knowledge amongst the squad and he goes MIA after the events of the first movie, and just suddenly reappears like nothing’s wrong and it turns out he was just. Playing Batman in the 80s remake cause idfk he had a knack for acting and decided to audition, half as a joke, and ended up actually booking the role
Bradley begging Mav to take him to the cinema to see the new Batman movie
Goose (not dead) and Carol agreeing cause it means they can go on a date and Mav can take him to the movies
Bradley needing to go to the toilet during the first round of credits so Mav misses when they say who Bruce Wayne is played by
Mav spending the entire movie thinking about who Bruce looks like but he’s running through a list of actors because if he’s familiar, it’s obviously cause he’s seen him in another movie
Mav staying to watch the first part of the end credits and actually screaming when he sees ‘Bruce Wayne/batman played by Thomas Kazansky’
Bradley looking up at Ice the next time he sees him with wonder cause THAT’S HIS BATMAN
Little toddler Bradley tugging on his sleeve asking to be his Robin
Goose fucking cackling when he finds out that Ice played Batman
Ice came back to active duty after filming wrapped, so he disappeared for six months during filming, didn’t tell anyone where he was, and it took ANOTHER six months to edit and market the film before it came out so genuinely no one had ANY reason as to why he was gone, or why he suddenly came back with slightly longer than regulation hair, which slider helped him trim, for A YEAR and then it comes out and things make sense but also. Insane. That’s insane work Ice
People making jokes that they should change his callsign to Batman/Hollywood (Hollywood getting huffy when people say that)
a little hangster soulmate ficlet because it popped into my head today
It takes Jake longer than he'd like to admit to notice the burst of ocean blue on his right bicep. In his defense, the first day actually getting in the the air during advance flight training had been intense.
In his defense, it must have happened in the fucking locker room and he wasn't exactly checking himself out in there—he tends to keep his eyes to himself in the locker room, not looking at anything except what's in front of him.
In his defense, he wasn't expecting to meet his fucking soulmate today.
But he did. He must have brushed against him—and it has to be a him because the only time Jake's bicep wasn't covered by his shirt or flight suit was in the lock room after he'd shower.
He studies the mark in the bathroom mirror, it almost looks like the waves rolling off the ocean as he moves his arm. He wonders what color he left on his soulmate. He wonders if his soulmate is standing in his own cramped bathroom somewhere in this same building studying his own mark. He wonders if his soulmate's heart is racing thinking about the implications of his soulmate being a man in a world where the ink on the DADT repeal is still drying.
He wonders who it is.
Honey brown curls and doe eyes, strong shoulders and biting comments, flash through his head before he shakes himself out of it. It's not worth imagining who it could be—who he'd kind of like it to be. That can only lead to disappointment. Instead of thinking about it, he brushes his teeth and walks out of the bathroom.
He lucked out with a decent roommate, Machado's a chill guy, funny and smart, and he doesn't seem to mind Jake's prickly exterior. He's sitting on the uncomfortable couch, a football game on, when Jake leaves the bathroom. Jake declines his offer to join him, suddenly exhausted, and falls asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.
Bradshaw is already sitting in the classroom when Jake walks in the next morning. Jake stops in the doorway, eyes trained on the swell of Bradshaw's biceps under his tight uniform khaki shirt. Almost like he can feel Jake's eye on him, Bradshaw turns to the door, raising an eyebrow at him as if to ask what the fuck Jake is doing just standing there looking at him.
"Mornin'," Jake says, flashing half a smile. He's usually the first one in the room, Bradshaw being here is unexpected.
"Morning," Bradshaw's eyes are on Jake's shoulder, his arm. The mark is covered, Jake had triple checked that his shirt covered it before leaving, but it feels like Bradshaw can see it anyway.
"You're here early," Jake says, walking into the room. "You're must have been with the roosters today."
Bradshaw snorts, but doesn't say anything. His eyes haven't left Jake since he spotted him in the doorway.
Jake makes his way to his usual seat in the front, stealing himself to pass Bradshaw in the second row. He can feel Bradshaw's eyes on him as he approaches. It's stupid and impulsive, but as Jake walks by he shifts, flexing his arm so his sleeve rides up, causing the ocean blue mark to poke out just enough for Bradshaw to see it if he's looking.
There's a sharp intake of breath from Bradshaw and then there are fingers circling Jake's wrist stopping him.
"Seresin," Bradshaw's voice cracks halfway through his name. He sounds so raw.
"Bradshaw," Jake looks down at him and sees it, a sea foam green splotch of color on Bradshaw's left bicep. They must have brushed by each other in the lock room. Jake thinks he might remember it, Bradshaw coming in later than the rest of them, head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
"Is that—is that new?"
"Pretty sure you know the answer to that already, man," Jake's voice isn't loud, but it still feels like a gunshot in the quiet room.
"Bradley," Bradshaw—Bradley says. "You should probably call me Bradley."
"Jake," Jake tells him. "Sit up front me with today?"
There's a moment of hesitation. Jake wonders if Bradley is running through all the reasons that a terrible idea. Whatever he's thinking, he must decide the pros outweigh the cons, because he gets up and joins Jake at the front.
"We gonna talk about it?" Bradley asks, fingers tracing along the mark on Jake's arm. If they leaned any closer, their marks would match up.
"Later," Jake says, reaching out to touch Bradley's mark, dropping his hand when he hears voices in the hall. He takes a breath. If he doesn't ask now, he'll lose his nerve. "Dinner, tonight?"
"Dinner," Bradley agrees, knocking their shoulders together. "It's a date."
Jake bites back a grin at Bradley's easy agreement. He's saved from responding by the classroom door opening. He was half expecting Bradshaw to turn him down. Jake knows he's been a bit—well he's been a bit intense during training. Knows he's rubbed some people the wrong way with his persistence and need to be the best. He's well aware that half the class thinks he's an asshole, but he also knows that everyone in this classroom knows he's the best, that no one doubts his abilities in a cockpit. Especially not after taking to the skies for the first time yesterday and seeing him in action.
But here Bradley is, agreeing to dinner with Jake. Looking almost pleased that Jake's his soulmate. Like maybe last night when he was studying his mark maybe he'd thought about Jake's dimples and his eyes, just like Jake had thought about him.
Now isn't the time to think about this though. Now he needs to focus on training. And that's just what he does. When he and Bradley are paired up to practice taking off and landing, Jake feels giddy with it.
He gets to fly a fighter jet. He gets to fly a fighter jet with his fucking soulmate. They can figure the rest out later.
She could tell he was the type to needle people if his interaction with Bradley was anything to go by. That was classic dick measuring if she had ever seen it.
Bradley wasn't around much because of some super-secret Navy training he couldn’t tell her about. Said his godfather was around. She thought it was nice that they could reconnect after she told Bradley that he didn't want to talk to her much longer, which was fine with her.
When he finished his training, they had a big celebration at that dive bar. She didn't want to go, but Bradley made it seem like a big deal that they celebrated the three short weeks he was around, not that she had seen him much.
This time, she wore jeans and boots instead of stilettos and a tight dress. She didn't like that rusty bag of bolts any better, but the truck and parking lot were easier to deal with this time around.
As soon as they cleared the door, a cheer of Rooster went up, and Hangman was upon them. “Bradshaw, you are a sight for sore eyes. It's about time you got your slow ass here.”
Bradley rolled his eyes. He replied, in a voice drenched with sarcasm, “Hangman, you look good."
Brittney kept a grip on Bradley's arm as they followed Hangman to the bar. “Penny, my dear, a Sapporo and a Chablis on my tab.”
She grabbed her glass from the bartender and volunteered that she would much prefer a cocktail, but couldn't trust the quality.
“Britt!” Bradley scolded, before wrapping his hand around her waist and tugging gently. “Thank you, Penny," he called over his shoulder. “Thanks, Hangman. I missed these. I didn't know Penny stocked them.”
The smarmy little smarmster said, “She didn't until today.”
“Bradley’s favorite beer is Heineken.” Brittney snapped. She would teach this pretentious, future, used car salesman for pretending he knew her boyfriend better than she did.
Simultaneously, both aviators said, "No, it's not.”
“Since when?" she scoffed. "I buy those when you're in town.”
“Yeah, I drink them because they're there, but you might have noticed I buy Natural Light when I shop. I picked up a taste for Sapporo in Japan." He held his bottle out to her. "Do you want to taste?”
Brittney huffed, smacking the hand holding the bottle, and asked with pure irritation, “When were you in Japan?”
Bradley’s face went slack, mouth open, but before he spoke, Hangman answered for him. “All of 2019 till now.”
Brittney gaped. She knew that look on Bradley's face and knew now wasn't the time to push.
“Hey Bradshaw, how about you let me relieve you of some money at the pool table?” Hangman asked.
Bradley was still looking at her with those sad eyes he had in high school. She wanted to protest being left on her own with his coworkers, who didn't look pleased to see her, judging by the slight head nods that greeted her.
Hangman called out to Natasha, “Will you keep Brittney company while take I Rooster on a play date to the pool table?”
Natasha looked Brittney in the eye, pulled the communal snack bowl to over her, and said, “Can't you see I'm busy eating these peanuts?” She plucked a single nut from the bowl and crunched it between her teeth.
“Alright, Nix, enjoy your nuts. Yotes, will you keep this lovely lady company?”
Brittney’s eyes widened as just the prettiest brown skinned man she had ever seen peeled out of the group. “Anything for you, man.”
Hangman turned to her and whispered, “You're making this too easy.”
Brittney watched them move through the bar, Bradley and Hangman both working the crowd, receiving backslaps and handshakes as if they were running for office. At least Hangman didn't have his hands on Bradley. She turned back, “Yotes was it?”
“It's Coyote, actually.”
“Oh, what's your real name? Not your silly pilot nickname.”
“It's not a nickname, it's a call sign.” Coyote answered, and then proceeded to provide her with a detailed history of call sign usage in the military, focusing on aviation before branching out to intelligence code names and how they differed. Brittney's eyes might have glazed over during the lecture, but damn, he was pretty. All of his facial features were perfectly proportioned, and his skin was so smooth. If he sat in her makeup chair, all she would add was a bit of powder to make him camera-ready. Her eyes strayed to his fingers wrapped around his beer bottle. She wasn’t even surprised to find he had long fingers with clean nails. She glanced back up at him, catching him with a slight grin on his face.
She spared a glance at the pool tables. It looked like Hangman and Bradley finally had a table, and Hangman was showing Bradley how to line up a shot. Britt shook her head. Hangman was about to lose some money. Bradley was an exceptional pool player. She loved to take him around her friends and watch him destroy cocky bastards like Hangman. She told Coyote as much, and he replied, “I’m pretty sure Jake knows what he’s doing. Do you want another glass of wine before we cover one-time use code names?”
Coyote didn’t wait for an answer before escorting her back to the bar, while continuing his lecture. She sipped wine, and he switched topics, long fingers shifting the same beer bottle around. The thing she noticed about Coyote is that he kept asking questions. Not about her, but about his ongoing lecture on the military. She had no option to disengage and join Bradley at the pool table. He was probably over his little mood swing. She wasn’t afraid of being rude, but she was mesmerized by Coyote's voice, the shape of his mouth, the lines of his jaw, and if he kept talking, she might enlist in the morning.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Hangman and Bradley returned to the group. Bradley brandished the money he won and announced, “Shots on me!”
Brittany was quick to shoot back, “But none for you. You have to drive me home.”
Bradley’s face fell, and Natasha asked, “Heard of Uber, Britt? This is a celebration for our squad.” She gestured around the table.
“Ugh. As if.” Brittany huffed, nose scrunching up.
Just as Bradley began to capitulate, “I’ll get...”
That damn Hangman was at it again, “I’ll take care of it, Bradshaw. Yotes, will you see the lady home?”
Brittany opened her mouth to protest, but stopped herself at the thought of something promising. She huffed again for show. “Thank you for being a gentleman, Coyote.” She still didn’t have his real name or his agreement, but latched on to his arm anyway and left the Hard Deck.
Coyote boosted her into his truck, which was fair, since it didn’t have running boards. When he joined her in the cab, she played at fumbling with the seatbelt until he gave her a helping hand. He punched her address into the GPS and started asking her about her job. Once she started talking about make-up and differences for photo shoot make-up and live camera work, he could have driven to Texas. She made one foray into resting her hand on his, but he snatched it off the console to turn up the volume on the navigation and kept his right hand firmly on the wheel.
Brittany wasn’t too dissuaded. When the truck stopped in front of her apartment building, she waited for him to help her out of the truck, being sure to angle her way into sliding down his body. Shooting her shot, she spoke, “You can come up if you like. Bradley is going to be out for hours.”
jake being a simp AND an arrogant dick is my lifeblood. he and bradley kiss and bradley will just feel jake smirking against his mouth because the man's smug as FUCK about bagging him. everyone and their mum knows about them because every second word out of hangman's mouth is about his boyfriend, but not in the normal doting boyfriend way. it's this weird mix of STILL pulling bradleys pigtails and needing to remind everyone that bradley is HIS. he's literally like "yeah, don't know how my boyfriend even won top gun, slower than a turtle" but everyone knows the important bits are MY BOYFRIEND and secondarily WON TOP GUN.
Also, what the hell, guys? I have more than 600 followers???? That's INSANEEEEEEE. Thank you for taking the time to read these, and for liking, and all that stuff. I'm really bad at responding, but I love reading your comments. I feel like I should send you all celebratory cookies (that won't make your teeth red, hehe). No, but seriously, thank u all <3
hangman finds himself outside of roosters room the night after the mission, hands trembling and chest heaving, he doesn't want to be here but he just can't... he doesn't know, he should knock on the door he should go back to his room he should he should he should....
but rooster opens the door before hangman can decide what he wants and his breath is just gone because he's in front of him, he's alive, by his doing, and he wants to say something stupid but any joke or insult dies on his tongue and his mouth is just left stupidly agape as he just, stares at rooster, how relaxed he looks, how alive he looks, and honestly that's all he needed to see and he wants to leave but rooster pulls him in to the warmth of his body, arms heavy on hangman's shoulders, breathing steadily against him and hangman would never admit it but he almost cries, feels his eyes get hot and feels like he can't breathe bcs he was able to save rooster, he saved him, he's alive because of him, and he doesn't ever want to let go
