talk to me, goose

Exactly 100 words for @topgundrabble

The afternoon feels syrup-slow and honey-gold. Bradley, never one to pass up a nap, has been asleep for twenty minutes.

Jake's book is still open, but he hasn't read a word. Instead, his fingers move gently through Bradley's hair, made curlier by salt and gilded by sun. Idly, he brushes sand from Bradley's back, erasing the lingering signs of earlier horseplay.

Bradley stirs, but doesn't wake, shifting closer to Jake like even in sleep, he's looking for those warm touches he constantly craves.

mechanic mullet bradley for @lovewithagirl! that's right i'm literally still working through these mullet requests.

bg stock photo credit

"Maybe it's not a false alarm this time?" Mickey offers, sounding like he doesn't believe it even as he's saying it.

As if the universe is listening the radio clipped to Jake's turnouts springs to life, "Hostess called, it's a false alarm at Sunset on Six. Go up and confirm but then you're good to head back to the station."

"Copy," Jake says as he turns toward the elevator instead of the stairs. "That's what, five false alarms this year alone?"

"This makes six," Javy says with a sigh. "Better than an actual fire though. Plus, now you get to see your boyfriend."

"That bartender with not my boyfriend," Jake jabs at the 6 a little harder than necessary. "You think I'd ever date someone who set off the fire alarm six times in six months?"

"I think it's pretty telling that you knew who I was talking about," Javy smirks. "Lead the way, Lieutenant."

"Fuck off," Jake huffs. He hates when Javy pulls rank. Or well, he pulls Jake's rank. Javy's still just Firefighter Machado. Jake's in charge right now.

"That an order, sir," Mickey grins at him.

Just to get away from them, Jake steps out of the elevator before he doors are all the way open. The view of San Diego at Sunset on Six is breathtaking every time, especially at this time of day when the sun is actually starting to set over the ocean. The hostess, Jake thinks her name is Amelia, gives them a smile that's more like a grimace when she sees Jake.

"Bradshaw," Jake calls out toward the bar. "What did I tell you last time?"

"Lieutenant Seresin, a pleasure as always," Bradley is behind the bar looking at least a little embarrassed. The embarrassment doesn't stop him from leaning against the bar and looking up at Jake through his lashes. "What brings you to our fire establishment."

"Bradshaw," Jake grits out. "You're wasting valuable city resources.

"It wasn't me this time, I swear," Bradley says, nodding toward a guy Jake's never seen before. He's got the same glasses that Jake's grandpa wears and he's looking at Jake like a nervous chihuahua. "Bobby here was learning how to use the smoker, he got a little overzealous."

"Still you're fault, you're the one teaching him," Jake rubs his eyes. "Come on man, this is getting a little out of hand."

"How else would I see if you?" Bradley teases. Jake knows he's joking and it really isn't that much of a pain to come the two blocks from the station to the hotel. But he's never going to tell Bradshaw that.

"Try coming into the station sometime if you miss me that much," Jake's mouth moves before his brain.

"That an invite?" Bradley smiles at him, his eyes going soft in the golden hour light.

"It is," Javy appears at Jake's shoulder. "Our shift doesn't end until 9am."

"Good to know," Bradley's still smiling. "Anything else, gentleman? I wouldn't want to waste any more city resources."

"Just — train this kid better," Jake says, accepting that he's lost this round.

Bradley gives him a lazy salute, "You got it, boss."

Jake knocks on the bar once before turning and walking back toward the elevator, ignoring the way most of the patrons at the restaurant watched their interaction.

"Not a fucking word, Machado," Jake says when they're back at the elevator. "And you keep your mouth shut too, Garcia."

"Sir, yes sir," Mickey says.

holly, come with me on a journey:

art thief jake seresin & trust fund baby reluctant patron of the arts bradley bradshaw, who accidentally witnesses the theft of a very important artwork. later, it's announced as the work of the mysterious 'hangman', so named because he takes the painting and leaves nothing but the wire loops that were holding it, uncut, dangling like nooses. nobody's quite sure how's doing it.

jake has a problem: namely that someone can now tie him to this crime and, therefore, every other crime he's committed. which is quite a lot. he's a non-violent criminal, so his options for shutting this guy up are few and far between, but he figures asking nicely probably can't hurt as a first step, right? and then it's blackmail.

and the painting he stole belonged to an art dealer, one pete 'maverick' mitchell, known in the art world for investing in unusual art or artists that aren't famous. almost always, the investments are good - the style becomes fashionable, the artist gets their big break. and bradley bradshaw, as it turns out, is on the outs with pete mitchell, and is only too happy for the painting to have been taken. he's not going to turn jake in.

which is all well and good, but the investigation surrounding this particular crime is getting intense, and as jake & bradley spiral closer together, jake starts to worry not only that he'll be caught, but that he'll bring bradley down with him.

and bradley bradshaw says don't you fucking dare try and get all noble on me about this. which sounds too much like i love you, so he tempers it with you're too pretty to go to prison on your own. if you're going, i'm going too. someone's gotta make sure you don't end up some guy's bitch.

anyway 'accidental' might be the wrong word but spousal privilege means that a spouse can refuse to testify against their spouse. so i guess bradley's making that happen. except word gets out that bradley bradshaw, eternal bachelor and famous art-world guy, is suddenly hitched. so now he has to introduce jake to high society.