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Booster doodle i may or may not finish :P (bob and rooster)
Some lewd Booster for the enthusiasts!
[Full image on my nsfw twitter found HERE!]
As I Was Saying
Bradley Bradshaw x Bob Floyd
Written for the 2025 Candyhearts Exchange
Warnings: 18+, language, pining, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 5.2k
A/N: my first time writing this pairing and i had soooo much fun. bob floyd deserves all the nice things
ONE)
It was late by the time everyone finally started leaving The Hard Deck. A few of the pilots had taken off earlier in the night, trying to do the right and responsible thing by getting to sleep at a decent hour because there was no telling what the following day was going to hold for them. At one point, Bob had tried to say something along those same lines to get the rest of their crew to head out, but it was immediately shut down. He’d tried to slip out on his own since no one else seemed to be in the business of leaving, and yet somehow he’d gotten roped into staying anyway.
Now it was pitch black out with the exception of the stars and the lights coming from the bar. Each time the door opened, a fresh wave of noise would spill out and drift past him, but then it would get quiet again. When the door was closed all Bob could hear was the waves just a few years off. It was peaceful and it was the kind of thing that would get him staying out even later just to listen to it. But it was already way too late for that.
He was too busy taking it all in to notice the fact that someone had turned up behind him. Bradley stood there watching him for a beat, a smirk on his face because even though he couldn’t actually see Bob’s face in that moment, he still knew exactly what it looked like.
“Thought you were heading him to tuck yourself in,” he joked.
Bob spun around, eyes wide and grip tight on his phone in his hand. He smiled when he saw that it was Bradley, but the recognition didn’t make his eyebrows lower any. “That’s next.” He nodded towards the bar. “Thought you were going to give an encore performance.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Not on the first night back.”
“First night back,” Bob repeated with a nod. “That why you showed up without your uniform?”
Bradley beamed. “Still in a suitcase somewhere.” He paused, studying Bob’s face for a moment. “How’ve you been?”
There was something about the way that Bradley talked that always created that feeling of familiarity between them despite the fact that they really weren’t all that close. The longer that Bob had watched everyone interacting inside The Hard Deck, the more he realized that he was one of the people who knew Rooster the least. Didn’t know him well enough to have that banter like Natsha, didn’t know him well enough to have the history-driven antagonism like Hangman. But he still knew him, sort of. At least that’s what it felt like right now, with Bradley lingering and refusing to break eye contact in a way that made Bob’s cheeks feel warm.
“Good enough to get called back for the detachment.”
He nodded, still smiling. “Pretty damn good then.” Bob pulled in a breath, getting ready to say something else, but Rooster didn’t catch it and cut him off without even knowing that he was doing it. “I’ll let you get to bed—kept you out late enough.”
Bob’s expression fumbled but only for a moment. “G’night.”
Rooster waved, already backpedaling away with that same grin on his face. “Night.”
TWO)
Bob had stopped giving any thought to what the issue was between Rooster and Hangman pretty quickly. Partially because it wasn’t difficult at all to see why someone would have an issue with Hangman, but also because whatever problems there were between Rooster and Maverick seemed to be much larger. His wondering about them didn’t do him much good since it wasn’t as though he was going to ask Rooster about any of it. But it was hard to miss.
The problems on all sides came to a head when Hangman, once more, couldn’t stop himself from running his mouth. Bob had kept his mouth shut and his eyes cast down, waiting for an ensuing argument. What he hadn’t been ready for, though, was the brawl that was threatening to break out. He’d never shot up out of his seat so fast, him and everyone else as they tried to pry Bradley and Jake apart. It was all pushing and yelling, everyone jumping in before they even knew what they were doing.
Out of everyone who was attempting to contribute to the efforts of pulling them apart, only a few people were actually involved. Bob's hand clamped down hard on Bradley's shoulder, pulling him back for all he was worth. Some of them were trying to pull Hangman off and back to his seat, the others were trying to usher Bradley off towards the door of the classroom. It was easier to get Hangman to settle down enough to sit again, but without saying anything, everyone knew that there was no calming Bradley down just yet. Frustrating as it was, no one could blame him for it, either.
Once they got Bradley close enough to the doorway to feel confident in him leaving, most everyone went and sat back down in their seats to try and regain some sense of normalcy. The stomping of Bradley’s feet could be heard as he stormed off down the hallway. For a moment, Bob lingered at the threshold of their classroom, weighing his two options of going back to his seat, or going after Rooster. He knew what people would consider the smart choice to be, but even as he considered it all, he knew exactly which choice he was going to end up going with.
No one called after him to try and stop him when he left to go and look for Rooster. He didn’t have to go very far to find him, just a few strides down the hallway towards the main door. Bradley hadn’t even made it to the lobby of the building, instead just pacing back and forth across the hallway. His face was flushed, his eyes red and watery even though he wasn’t going to let tears fall onto his face.
Bob stopped a few steps away from him, trying to assess the situation before diving right in. He twisted his hands in front of him, feeling his heartbeat in the back of his throat. He wanted to know the right thing to do, to say, but he didn’t know if that existed, not after what Hangman had just said.
He cleared his throat but it was quiet, as skittish a sound as he felt. “I—”
“Who the hell does he think he is?” Bradley spat, shaking his head.
Bob sighed, wishing that he had a good answer to that question even outside of their current situation. “He shouldn’t have done that,” was all he could think to offer in the moment.
Whether it was the words themselves, or Bob’s voice, something got Bradley to pause and look over at the man standing a few feet away from him. His facial expression lost a little bit of its edge, but the tension didn’t leave the rest of his body. His fists were still clenched at his sides, shoulders tense like a cat with its hackles up, even though it was just Bob now, and Bob wasn’t a threat.
The two of them stood there silently taking each other in. Rooster could feel the lump in the back of his throat, the burning at the edges of his eyes. He was aware of the fact that he should’ve felt exposed, vulnerable in a way. The logical part of his brain should have been telling him to hide away this messy part of himself, but as he stood there staring at Bob he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Bob was standing there with a little frown on his face and worry in his eyes, the kind of look that didn’t make a person want to hide but instead made them want to settle. Bradley just hadn’t ever been too good at that.
“I’m not going back in there with him,” he muttered.
“Roos—”
“No,” he interjected, not wanting whatever logical and correct argument Bob was about to meet him with. “If that’s how it’s gonna be, then I don’t even want to do this.”
He shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”
“No?”
Bob moved in a little closer, the distance between them not feeling quite right. “No. You gotta go back in. If Hangman gets the lead on this,” he huffed, “we’re so screwed.”
The earnestness in Bob’s voice got a weak chuckle out of Bradley. “And you’re not screwed with me?”
Bob cracked a tiny grin in response. “Less screwed, at least.”
The two of them stood there and stared at each other for a moment. Bob studied Rooster’s face, saw the way that the redness in his cheeks was going away, how his eyes weren’t so teary anymore. He’d managed to unfurl his fingers so that his hands weren’t fists any longer even if his shoulders were still rigid. Bob had a follow-up statement resting on the tip of his tongue, one of those types of sentences that was about their current situation, but also about everything else he was thinking too, but he didn’t get the chance to say it.
Reaching out, Bradley, rested his hand on Bob’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks. Sorry.”
Bob was fighting every urge he had to look at Bradley’s hand that was still on his shoulder. He shrugged, the movement small enough that it didn’t encourage Bradley to remove his hand from him. “If it was up to me, I would’ve let you get one real good shot in before pulling you apart.”
Bradley allowed himself to laugh as he took his hand away. “Knew I liked you.” Dragging his hands down his face, he said, “I’m…I’m good. I just need a second.” He gestured back towards the classroom. “Go. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Working harder than he should’ve had to, Bob swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”
THREE)
A few of the guys had given Bob a hard time when they first hit the beach for Mav’s team-building football game. A majority of the guys wasted no time in peeling their shirts off and tossing them into a heap in the sand—even Natasha had stripped down to her sports bra and shorts. Bob felt just fine as he was, though. His regular glasses and his t-shirt would survive the game just fine.
“Forget your sunscreen or something?” Coyote remarked with a smug grin.
Bob raised his eyebrows slightly, unfazed. “You’re the one playing in skinny jeans—I think I’ll be alright.”
The remark got a laugh out of most the people around, including Coyote. It was effective in getting the topic to drop, and on top of that, they had much more pressing things to worry about like trying to tackle each other down into the wet, mildly unforgiving, sand.
“Jorts, huh?” Bob asked when he found himself standing next to Bradley in between plays.
Bradley turned and looked at him, amused as much by Bob’s short but effective comment as he was by the playful expression on Bob’s face. More over the last few weeks than the last time they were on a detachment together, Bradley realized that while Bob had the reputation of being quiet and awkward, he certainly knew how to take in everything going on around him and deliver when he needed to.
“What, don’t like ‘em?” Bradley replied, holding his arms out as he did.
Bob laughed, exerting more effort than he would ever admit to, to keep his eyes on Bradley’s face rather than anywhere else. “I didn’t say that.” He hummed in amusement as everyone lined up to start the next play. “You keep those in your bag just in case, or—”
“Alright, alright,” Bradley cut him off, laughing as he did. “Real funny.” He heard Bob continuing to laugh and looked at him over the rims of his sunglasses. “You can just say it, you know?”
Bob tilted his head. “Say what?”
The smug grin that appeared on Bradley’s face was one Bob felt like he hadn’t seen in a while with everything that had been going on. “That I’m the only one here who can pull these off.”
They were both so busy laughing that they almost missed the fact that the game was picking up again. Bob watched as Bradley took off down the sand, and he paid enough attention to what was going on around him to not get taken down in the midst of it all, but half his mind was wandering off somewhere else. He blamed the warmth in his cheeks, the heat spreading across his neck and chest, on the exercise and the sun, but he knew it was something else entirely.
Bob catching the ball and scoring for his team happened so quick that he’d hardly even realized it. But suddenly he had the football in his hands and everyone was cheering and it all clicked with him what had actually happened. His excitement doubled at the realization and soon enough he was cheering right along with them.
All of that happened nearly as fast as him somehow ending up on Bradley’s shoulders. He hadn’t thought the game was over but once he was being carried around and heard the rest of them cheering his name over and over again he figured that maybe this was it. It was all surreal, the camaraderie and attention in that moment, all aimed at him. That seemed like something out of a daydream.
When he got back into his own head enough to really take in what was going on, that’s when he felt the grip that Bradley had on his legs to keep Bob balanced on his shoulders. His fingers pressed into the exposed skin of Bob’s thighs, just above his knees. He was thankful that he still had the football in his grasp to keep his hands busy, otherwise he wouldn’t have been sure that he could keep control of them. They would’ve ended up in Bradley’s hair or something else ridiculous because the high of adrenaline had him feeling more impulsive than ever.
The two of them practically tumbled down into the sand together, laughing as they went. The fall was what got the football to slip from Bob’s grasp as he tried to brace himself for impact. As the crowd dispersed, breaking off into their own little groups, Bob and Rooster stayed splattered across the sand for a minute.
Bob got himself sitting upright again, legs stuck out in front of him. “Was surprised you got that far before you fell over.”
Bradley laughed, draping one arm across his forehead as he stayed flat on his back. “You’re not that hard to carry.”
He hummed in acknowledgment as he reached for the football, once more wanting something to keep his hands busy. Turning his head, Bradley looked over at Bob, who was staring intently at the football in his hands. He had sand in his hair and smeared across his glasses, a tiny smile twisting his lips. He almost looked like he had something to say.
Rooster propped himself on his elbows, not laying down but not quite sitting completely up either. Bob swallowed hard, once again fighting the urge to stare. If Bradley noticed, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead he said, “I think you were right.”
“About?”
He laughed, tilting his head back so that he was staring up at the sky, never mind the fact that his eyes were closed behind the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. “Jeans on the beach is a dumb idea.”
Bob laughed, shaking his head as he tossed the football to Bradley. “I bet.”
He watched as Bradley fumbled to catch the football, forcing himself to sit upright in a position similar to Bob’s as he did. The longer Bob stared at him, the less he cared about how it looked for him to be doing so. He could feel the sensation of Bradley’s hands on his thighs all over again.
Trying to come up with the best way to say what it was that he wanted to say, trying not to blurt out the first thing that came to mind, Bob took a deep breath as he strung his sentence together one word at a time. “Hey, um, when this is all—”
The second football came through and shattered Bob’s attempt as it pelted Bradley square in the middle of his chest. He toppled over with a laugh, but as he got himself back up again he’d jumped completely to the new topic at hand. “Way to hit a man when he’s down!”
Both Bob and Rooster were looking in the direction that the football came from, not surprised in the least to see Coyote and Hangman both standing there laughing with the rest of their crew. Coyote shrugged, throwing his hands up. “Said it’s defense and offense all day, Rooster.”
Before Bob could say anything to stop him, Bradley was back on his feet and taking off down the beach towards them again, intent on getting even. Bob let out a sigh that turned into a laugh, feeling like the whole afternoon had been a fever-dream. He rested his hands on his legs, just above his knees, and watched the waves roll in.
FOUR)
Bob didn’t know who he expected to see first when he woke up in the hospital, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting Rooster. The room that he and Natasha were currently sharing was nearly silent save for the sounds of her slightly labored breathing as she slept, and the noise that bled into their room from out in the hallway. Bob blinked a few times as he adjusted to being awake again, and even with things being blurred without the help of his glasses, he could see that it was Bradley sitting in the chair beside his bed.
Even though Bob couldn’t yet make out the features on the other man’s face, he could see the way that Bradley was sitting. He was practically melting into the chair, shoulders up to his ears as he sunk back into it, legs tossed out in front of him.
“Bradley?” Bob asked despite knowing the answer. His voice came out with a layer of gravel on it, the type laid down by sleep and, in Bob’s particular case this time, some carefully prescribed meds.
The name felt nearly foreign on his tongue, but he also knew that it would’ve felt wrong to refer to him by his callsign in that moment. Bob was lying in a hospital bed in a stupid paper gown that they insisted on him wearing, and Bradley was in a hoodie and sweatpants so old and beat up Bob had to assume he didn’t usually leave his house in them. They were long past callsigns and surnames now.
Bob’s voice got Bradley to find his posture. He sat up, pulling his hands out of the center pocket of his hoodie. “Hey,” he said, voice softer than Bob had ever heard it as he leaned forward. “How’re you—shit—” he reached and grabbed Bob’s glasses for him, giving the man a fighting chance to see what was going on, “You good?”
Bob nodded as he pushed himself upright. “Yeah. They wanted to keep us overnight just in case.” He put his glasses on and looked over at Natasha. “She been out the whole time?”
“Yeah.” He waited for Bob to look back at him again. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Everything in him felt heavy as he said, “Me too.” He paused and cleared his throat, trying to think of the right thing to say as opposed to all of the impulsive things he wanted to blurt out in the wake of it all. “You don’t have to stay. They’re gonna cut us loose once the doctor checks us out in a little while. We’ll be back in—”
“You shouldn’t even be thinking about that.”
Bob’s expression took on an air of intense confusion. He wasn’t sure if he was misunderstanding Rooster or not, if his brain got rattled around inside his skull more than he originally thought. “What?”
He scoffed, like it was obvious. Leaning forward, Bradley’s elbows dug into his knees as he braced himself against his legs. “After everything that just happened to you two, don’t worry about rushing back.”
His brows were pinched so tight it was a wonder they didn’t merge into one. “There’s…there’s no point if we don’t. There’s nothing else to worry about.”
Rooster frowned. “That’s not true.”
It was three small words but they still made Bob recoil. He fidgeted with the blanket, twisting it between his fingers as he tried as hard as he could not to put more stock into Rooster’s words than he should. “You know what I—”
“Do you know what I mean?” Bradley cut him off, desperation hidden from his expression everywhere except his eyes.
Bob cleared his throat, looking down at his hands as he nodded. He spoke softly. “I think so.”
FIVE)
Being chosen to go on the mission had always been the goal. That was obvious, and it was the same goal as everyone else who had been called in for the detachment. Bob was no different than anyone else in that regard. Everything that he’d done since he showed up was about getting chosen to go and be part of it all.
That had been the goal from the outset and yet it still took him an extra couple of seconds to process and accept the reality of his name being called along with Natasha’s. His heart thundered in his chest so intensely that he could hear it in his ears. The blood running through his veins felt like it was vibrating, even though he was fairly certain that wasn’t possible.
He heard the other names too. Everyone who was chosen and, just as importantly, everyone who wasn’t. It was the same team that he would’ve chosen if any of it had been left up to him. Although as he was going to put a few of his things in his locker, as his hands trembled slightly as he pulled the door open, he was glad that none of it had been his decision.
Bob was in the process of removing unnecessary things from his pockets when he heard the door to the locker room area open. He didn’t pay it any mind at first, just trying to focus on himself and all of his little rituals that saw him through moments like this. There was the sound of heavy, booted footsteps across the floor. The sound grew louder but he was still stuck too deeply inside his own head to notice.
Then he heard the deep sigh that he knew could’ve only come from one person. Leaning back so that he could peer around the open door of his locker, Bob saw Rooster standing there staring at his own. He hadn’t opened it yet, and judging by the way Rooster was staring intently at the floor, Bob wasn’t sure that he was ever going to.
The seconds of tense silence that passed between them gave the situation a new layer of gravity to it. It’d been real to him from the second he heard the names that Maverick called out, but this was something else entirely. It wasn’t the first time that he and Rooster had ever worked together or run parallel to each other in a way, but there was the stark, unavoidable truth that this could be the last time. He didn’t want to think like that, didn’t want to will those types of things into existence. But he saw the worried crease of Rooster’s brow and couldn’t help but to acknowledge it, at least to himself if nothing else.
Putting the last of his things in his locker, Bob swung the door shut. When the echo of the metal subsided, he cleared his throat to get Rooster’s attention. He almost did it a second time when the man finally looked over at him. When he looked at Bob’s face, some of the lines going across his forehead disappeared, but there was still a heaviness to him. Bob had to assume that he didn’t look much different.
Bob took a small step towards him. “We did it.”
Rooster shook his head, the words coming out involuntarily although it didn’t make them any less true. “Not yet we didn’t.”
He had no choice but to nod in agreement. He’d never been good at this type of thing, the pep-talks or speeches or grand confessions. Quiet looks and small exchanges had always been more his speed, but this felt like it was calling for something more. He tried to dig deep to come up with it, knowing that this might be the only time. This felt like a now or never moment and he didn’t want to let it slip away.
“If anyone can…” he trailed off, the rest of his sentence implied.
That got a half-hearted chuckle and a ghost of a smile out of Rooster. “Let’s hope so.”
Blood started rushing in Bob’s ears again, his heart thrumming as he geared up to try and finally have his moment. He cleared his throat, hoping it’d be enough to steady his voice. “Whatever happens out there, I just—”
“Don’t do that,” he stopped him short, turning to face him head-on. Shaking his head, Bradley grabbed Bob firmly by his arms, hands wrapping around his biceps. “Tell me when it’s all over.”
There was nothing that Bob wanted to do more in that moment than argue with him, but he didn’t have the wherewithal. Even if he did, it wasn’t as though Rooster was ever the easiest person to win an argument against. He wasn’t the type of man who simply let others talk over and around him.
Despite the words that were clawing their way up the back of Bob’s throat, desperately wanting to get out no matter what Rooster had to say about it, he did have to admit that there was a comfort in it. The resolve in Rooster’s voice, in the way his fingertips pressed into Bob’s arms, it was secure. And secure was what they needed in that moment more than anything else.
So Bob did as he was asked. Nodding, fighting the urge to pull Bradley into him, he said, “Okay—I will.”
ONE)
Bob had never been so happy to see such a rough landing. He’d never been so happy to see such a dilapidated plane. Everyone was racing over, and he was doing everything he could short of elbowing his fellow aviators to be the first person there when Bradley’s boots touched back down on the ship. The only thing that he could hear aside from everyone cheering was the sound of his own breathing. The lump in the back of his throat made it nearly impossible to swallow, the tears in his eyes blurring his vision in a way that no glasses would ever be able to help. But he didn’t care about any of that.
He slipped and weaved his way through everyone. When he finally laid eyes on Bradley, there was no hiding the pure, unadulterated joy on his face. Relief washed over every single inch of his body the closer that he got.
Bradley looked at him, seeming every bit as relieved as Bob was at how everything had played out. He didn’t think that Bob was going to be the first one to make it over but he supposed that he should’ve known better than to underestimate him. If there hadn’t been so much chaos rising up around them, Bradley would’ve noticed the way that Bob’s hands were shaking as he got closer.
The laugh that Bradley let out was choked with emotion. He could see the mist in Bob’s eyes and he knew that was just another thing that the two of them had in common in that moment. Bob was still collapsing the last of the distance between them as Bradley tried to play it as cool as he possibly could. “So,” he chuckled, still laden with the rush of emotions and adrenaline that the day had created, “what’d you wanna tell—”
It was Bob’s turn to not let Bradley get a word in edge-wise. Before Bradley could say anything else, before Bob could try to stumble and fumble his way through a monolog of a confession, Bob gripped the straps coming down over Bradley’s shoulders and pulled him in. Rooster’s expression was halfway to shocked at the start of the gesture, but before he could do or say anything else, Bob yanked him right up and into a kiss.
Their lips crashed together, Bob nearly knocking his own glasses off in the process of it. He didn’t even have time to be worried about what would happen next, Bradley kissing him back before any untoward thoughts could sink their claws into him. He felt the bristle of Bradley’s mustache, tasted the salt and sweat off his lips. It said more than any words that Bob could’ve possibly tried to string together.
Then he felt Bradley’s hands over his own right before they broke the kiss. In reality it’d only lasted a little more than a moment or two, but for them the entire world might as well have just stopped. Each second of it was an eternity after the events of the day, after all the things leading up to it.
They looked at each other for a moment, bewildered at how surreal it all seemed. Then they broke down into laughter as Bob pulled him into a hug. It was another fleeting gesture as Rooster got swept away into the crowd of people who all wanted their moment with him. Bob didn’t try to fight it, knowing that regardless of what happened now, at least it was out there. At least he knew.
It took a few minutes but Bradley finally made his way back to him while the crowd ever so slowly started to disperse. Bob expected to feel nervous as he watched Bradley approach him, but he didn’t. His hands were steady, his heart racing but not out of fear this time. The smirk on Bradley’s face might’ve had something to do with that, though.
The feeling of holding Bradley so close almost didn’t seem real. If Bob hadn’t felt the vibration of his laughter, he would’ve sworn that it was all just a sick and twisted fever dream. Bradley pulled back, wanting to be able to look Bob in the eyes as he said, “So that’s what you were trying to tell me earlier?”
Bob smiled, face flaring up even though they were long past the point of playing coy or being embarrassed now. He nodded, hating the feeling of the blush in his cheeks. “Something like that.”
Bradley smirked. “Guess I should’ve let you finish, huh?”
He couldn’t help his laughter as he said, “Yeah, you should probably get better at that.”
(divider by @silkholland 💞)
Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @cositapreciosa @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
onto the bob love train ~
Bob Floyd with his boyfriends how adorable
y'all what are we naming rooster x bob. booster. ?
𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞.
pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x robert "bob" floyd
summary: rooster and bob have been dancing around one another for a long time. it's at a bbq that bob decides it's time to make a move.
warnings: explicit, minors do not interact! look, it's more smut! masturbation, anal fingering, anal sex, sex toys, bradley actually being totally in love with bob.
word count: 2.6k
author's notes: my first attempt at slash in the tgm fandom! honestly, not the pairing i expected, but some lovely ladies keep putting filthy images in my head. 😉
thank you to @wildbornsiren for second set of eyes!
likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥
Bob shoved Bradley so hard through the bedroom door that the knob hit the wall and dented it.
Bradley had just finished painting the interior of his bedroom the weekend before, and managed to tear his mouth away from Bob’s to protest.
“Bob -”
“Shh,” Bob said quickly, one of his hands coming up to cover Bradley’s mouth, the other man’s moustache tickling his palm. “They’ll hear you.”
Bradley thought it interesting that Bob hadn’t used “us” - as if he was some paragon of silence. He had no frame of reference, but he supposed he was about to find out.
The Dagger Squad were having a get together at Bradshaw’s, nothing terribly exciting or out of the ordinary for them, so he thought. Just some drinks, someone cooking some burgers and hot dogs on the barbeque, some drinking games, and whatever other tomfoolery they found themselves getting into. Bradley hadn’t expected that months of making eyes at Bob would culminate in the other aviator idly wandering into the kitchen after him and then kissing him.
Bob had made the executive decision to take whatever it was that they were doing upstairs to Bradley’s bedroom, the beers he’d been getting for Natasha and Jake left unopened on the counter. If Bob was trying to be circumspect it wasn’t going to last for long.
The backs of Bradley’s knees hit the edge of his bed, and he tumbled down on top of it, fingers clutching at Bob’s t-shirt pulling the other man down with him. Bob landed as gracefully as one could after being yanked down, and immediately began kissing Bradley again, teeth nipping at his bottom lip.
Thus far, Bob was nothing like Bradley had expected.
Bob moved onto his knees between Bradley’s legs, knocking them further open before leaving down slightly, palms spread over Bradley’s strong thighs, glorious tanned skin exposed because he had elected to wear shorts that day. Bradley was very pleased with the decision that he’d made that morning, and apparently Bob was as well.
“Fu -”
“Shh,” Bob whispered harshly once more, his hands moving up Bradley’s thighs, fingertips brushing against the skin under the hem of the fabric.
Bradley whined, as quietly as he could, throwing his head back against his pillows. He didn’t know that this is where they would end up, he would have told Bob that being quiet wasn’t exactly something that he was capable of. Many women had told him he was vocal in bed, and depending on who they were they either loved it or hated it.
He suspected that Bob would love it if he would just let him make literally any noise.
Bob reached up and took off his glasses, carefully yet quickly placing them on one of Bradley’s nightstands. Bradley lifted his head again, drinking in the sight of Bob’s face, no longer obscured by the frames. Fuck, he was pretty. He was always pretty, but this was just a different pretty.
Bob was still reverently groping at Bradley’s thighs, and Bradley swallowed thickly as one of Bob’s hands continued to move further and further up. He pulled his hands away, only to grab at the waistband of Bradley’s shorts, pulling them down his legs.
“Commando, Bradshaw?” Bob asked, raising an eyebrow as he tossed Bradley’s shorts onto the floor, glancing up at his friend’s face.
“It’s fuckin’ hot out,” Bradley replied breathlessly, surprised Bob finally let him speak. “Less layers is better.”
Bob grinned and pursed his lips together, nodding slightly as he glanced down at Bradley’s cock, already hard and aching, curving up toward his stomach, leaking precome onto his shirt. “I’m inclined to agree.”
“Bob,” Bradley whined, lifting his hips off the bed.
“Fuck, you’re needy,” Bob whispered with mirth in his voice, his hands moving over Bradley’s hips, avoiding his cock intentionally. Bradley lifted his hips off the bed once more, toward Bob’s touch, and let out a huff of frustration. “We don’t have much time.”
“Something. Anything,” Bradley gasped, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. He was needy, he was very aware of that, but something about Bob calling attention to it ignited something within him, a desire to take and have whatever Bob would apparently give him in that moment. “Your hands, your mouth - fuck, your mouth - just something until -”
We can do this again? Properly? Without people downstairs wondering where we are?
Bradley wasn’t entirely certain what he was asking for, but he was confident that Bob could likely figure it out.
“Shh, sweetheart,” Bob rasped, hooking his fingers into the white tank top Bradley wore under one of his incredibly loud Hawaiian shirts. “You’re not going to be left wanting.”
Bradley let out a relieved sigh, opening his eyes to watch as Bob rucked his tank top up over his chest. The man on top of him wrestled with the Hawaiian shirt until ultimately giving up and leaving it half pushed down Bradley’s strong and ridiculously muscular arms. Bob wasn’t exactly unfit, but the likes of the Bradshaws and Seresins of the squad clearly spent more time in the gym than he did.
Bob knelt over Bradley and pulled his black t-shirt off, and Bradley sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He’d seen Bob naked before, hell, they’d all seen one another naked before, but there was something about seeing him this way, a vulnerability to it, even if Bob was the one who was asserting dominance. This was a choice.
“Touch me, Rooster,” Bob breathed, noble fingers going to undo the button and zip of the cargo shorts he wore.
Bradley groaned, reaching up and touching Bob’s stomach, delighted in the way that it fluttered beneath his fingertips. How long had Bob wanted this, wanted him? Had he harboured feelings for him as long as Bradley had kept feelings for him guarded against his chest?
Going commando didn’t seem so silly as Bradley watched Bob struggle out of both his shorts and underwear, and he bit back a small smile as Bob attempted to maintain his balance on top of him. But fuck, he was gorgeous. Hard lines of muscle and soft flesh, tanned from their time in the sun. Bradley wanted his mouth to map every inch of Bob’s skin, commit it to memory. Maybe if and when they did this again, and had more time.
Bradley lowered his hand over Bob’s stomach, fingers brushing against Bob’s cock, trembling at Bradley’s touch. Bradley wanted to wrap his fingers around Bob’s shaft, jerk him off until -
“Do you want to fuck me?” Bob asked, a desperate edge creeping into his voice as he moved over Bradley’s body, nipping at his collarbone. “Spread me open over your thick cock, darlin’?”
“Fuck!”
Bob’s hand went over Bradley’s mouth again, and Bradley’s eyes went wide. He’d forgotten they were trying to act like they hadn’t gone missing from the party downstairs. “Is that a yes?” Bob purred, and Bradley responded by nodding his head frantically, maintaining eye contact with the man on top of him.
“Thought you said we didn’t have much time,” Bradley teased as Bob sat up, moved to sit astride Bradley’s legs. Bradley’s hands moved to settle on top of Bob’s thighs, and he could feel his legs twitch beneath his palms. “Prep is gonna -”
“I’ve been wearing a butt plug all day.”
“Oh my god,” Bradley gasped, throwing his head back against the pillows. He could feel his cock twitching, leaking against his stomach at the idea that even if Bob didn’t know that this would happen that he had planned for it just in case.
Bradley had never had sex with a man before, and he got the feeling that Bob weas going to ruin him for all others.
He watched, transfixed and absolutely awed, as Bob slowly pulled the plug out of his ass. The concentration etched on his features, the soft sounds he made as he freed it from himself and then dropped it unceremoniously onto the bed. “Still gonna need lube,” he murmured, wrapping a hand around his own length.
Bradley nodded, reaching over into the drawer of his nightstand and pulling out the bottle that he kept there, tossing it to Bob. “Do you want me to -”
“Next time,” Bob rasped, pouring some lube onto his fingers to get the liquid warm. “Right now I just - I want you.”
“Bob,” Bradley whined, hips canting up off the bed. If he weren’t so desperate, if their friends weren’t downstairs likely wondering where they were, Bradley would have wanted to go slower. But Bob had implied there would be a next time, and they could have slow and tender then. For the here and now, Bradley wanted - needed - Bob in whatever capacity he could have him.
Bob was above Bradley, slowly fucking himself on slick fingers, his mouth opened in silent gasps. He was far better at being quiet than Bradley was. Bradley’s hands fell to Bob’s thighs, and he soothed his hands along the soft, firm skin, lightly dusted with hair. “Bob,” Bradley gasped, lifting his hips again, fingernails digging into Bob’s flesh, “c’mon. Hurry. Please.”
“Such a needy boy,” Bob whispered, looking down at Bradley with a kind of smirk that Bradley had never seen before.
Being called a “needy boy” just made Bradley’s cock leak some more, a pool of precome beginning to collect on his stomach from whenever Bob said or did something just the right side of filthy. It occurred to him that Bob hadn’t touched him, not his cock at least, and the realization made him feel even more desperate.
“Bob,” Bradley whimpered once more, looking up at the man above him, as he moved into position over Bradley’s cock.
“Shh,” Bob cooed once again, grabbing the base of Bradley’s cock. Bradley let out a whimper, fucking up into the curl of Bob’s fist. “You’re being such a good boy.”
Bradley was at risk of coming undone before he even breached Bob, and there was no way that Bob wasn’t aware of that. He felt the head of his cock against Bob’s hole, and watched, spellbound, as Bob sank onto his length, head thrown back as Bradley breached that first ring of muscle.
“Bradley,” Bob moaned quietly to the ceiling. “Oh god.”
It was the first time that Bradley had seen Bob come apart over the past few minutes, and he made a strangled noise against his own pursed lips as he watched Bob’s face, then his cock disappearing into his friend’s body.
“Fuck. Fuck. Bobby,” Bradley grunted, his hands moving to Bob’s hips, gripping him tightly. The Hawaiian shirt that was caught halfway down his arms restrained him slightly, meaning there was some effort to touch Bob, and he had half a mind to tear his way through the fabric.
Bob bottomed out, taking a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving, before he began to shift, Bradley’s cock moving shallowly inside of him. After a moment of drinking in the sight of Bob, impaled on his cock, Bradley figured that perhaps he should be an active participant and began to lift his hips.
“Good boy,” Bob rasped, wrapping a hand around his own cock. He fisted himself lazily, turning his attention from the ceiling to Bradley, still sprawled out on the bed beneath him. “Fuck me.” Bradley’s hips twitched, pulling a quiet cry from Bob’s lips. “Good. Yes. Just - just like that.”
Bradley was convinced that Bob actually hated him and was trying to kill him. The way that he touched him, kissed him, the whispered affirmations - it was becoming increasingly too much, and even if this was meant to be done quickly, Bradley was worried he was going to embarrass himself.
Pressing his hands against the mattress beneath him, Bradley pushed himself up into a seated position, wrapping one arm around Bob’s waist, continuing to brace the other against his bed. The change in position tilted his cock at a different angle inside of Bob’s body, and Bob cried out softly before his mouth collided with Bradley’s to stifle the noise.
“Such a good boy,” he soothed into Bradley’s mouth.
“Fucks sake, Bob. You’re gonna - you’re gonna kill me,” Bradley panted, resting his cheek against Bob’s shoulder.
“Just keep fucking me,” Bob whispered, his hand not gripping at his cock gripping at Bradley’s thigh, steadying himself. “You’re doing so good.”
Bradley whined, something high pitched, desperate, and a little bit pathetic, before his lips found Bob’s neck, gently kissing, teeth scraping. He knew he shouldn’t leave a mark if they wanted to be discreet, but he was beginning to simply not give a fuck.
Bob pulled back slightly, nosing at Bradley’s chin until their eyes met. Bradley swallowed thickly, cock still fucking into Bob’s body, waiting for the other man to say something. But Bob simply continued to move in time with Bradley’s thrusts, his hand sliding up and down over his slick cock, breathing becoming just a little more strangled each time his ass met Bradley’s thighs.
“Keep - keep going,” Bob heaved, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Rooster - baby - you’re gonna make me come.”
Bradley clutched at Bob a little tighter, bringing a hand up to brush his thumb against Bob’s chin, gazing at him reverently. His eyes flickered from Bob’s eyes to his mouth, before he crushed their lips together, tongue sliding past Bob’s perfect lips and into his warm mouth. Bob moaned into his mouth, and Bradley gulped the sound down, wanting to keep it in the pit of his stomach for as long as he lived.
Bob’s fingers, dug into Bradley’s thigh, burrowed into him a little harder. “Coming,” he gasped against Bradley’s mouth. “Bradley, I’m coming.”
Keening as Bob came, painting both their stomachs and his chest with his release, Bradley fucked up into Bob quicker, a little harder, wanting to tumble over the edge with the man on top of him. It didn’t take much more effort before he was coming, falling back against the bed, throwing an arm over his face and silently screaming into the ditch of it.
“Good boy,” Bob soothed, still panting, his hand smoothing over Bradley’s exposed chest, slick with sweat and come. “You’re such a good boy.”
---
Jake looked quizzically at the empty beer bottle he was holding, before remembering that Bradley had said that he’d grab a couple more for him and Natasha. Looking around the backyard, there was no sight of Bradley. Muttering under his breath, Jake made his way through the screen door and into the kitchen to find a couple of unopened bottles on the counter.
No sooner had he opened his mouth to call for Bradley did he hear the footfalls of someone coming down the stairs. He looked over to see Bradley coming around the corner, his hair damp, looking freshly scrubbed.
“Where the hell were you?” Jake asked as Bradley sidled up next to him, reaching for the bottle opener that he’d dropped on the floor when Bob had kissed him.
“It’s my fucking house, Seresin,” Bradley said, opening a bottle of beer and handing it to Jake. “It’s hot as hell out there. I grabbed a quick shower.”
Jake took the bottle as it was offered to him, giving Bradley a once over. No longer was he wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a white tank top underneath, but a black t-shirt that looked like it was perhaps a little too small for him and a different pair of shorts.
“You changed,” Jake said in a matter of fact voice.
“People often do that after a shower,” Bradley said, grabbing the other now-opened beer for Natasha. “Do you not? Gross.”
Bradley went back outside, and Jake followed soon after, but not before he caught sight of Bob bounding down the stairs, looking damp and freshly scrubbed as well, missing his t-shirt.
/end.
Sorry Slider but one sided love is a good angst! 🫡 trying out drawing Slider’s face more, I thought he was the tallest of the bunch but Goose is?! And Rooster and Bob because Miles helping out with Lewis’s makeup was funny LMAO two lil versions, can u tell I watched Minions? 💀 ALSO U GUYS R SO NICE THESE R JUST SKETCHES BUT IM GLAD YALL LIKE THEM AHHHH 💚 much love 💚💚
