#dadclone

But holy shit, Mav invited the Top Gun legendary class of '86, which consists of current and former high-ranking Navy officers. Including THE COMPACFLT, ICEMAN. Who is Mav's husband. All the Daggers are having fun mingling around and talking to others, but Jake was thrown off.

He was expecting a casual event, he didn't think a bunch of his superiors were here. He never had to interact with his superiors without any prep. Jake awkwardly hanged out at the edges or stuck close to Mav, Cyclone, or even Bradley because he suddenly lost all social skills because fuckfuckfuck his hair wasn't combed, he wasn't in uniform, and his clothes aren't even halfway decent. He's not Hangman and it’s only recently he’s gotten used to being Jake around the Dagger Squad. He was shy and only spoke when spoken too and only started to loosen up when he was primarily surrounded by the Daggers.

Although, when he was hanging by Cyclone, the class of '86 asked Cyclone if Jake was his son, which made Jake flush and look at Cyclone worriedly, afraid that he would be offended. He wasn't. He was flattered.

Mav was confused and worried about Jake's recluseness, but decided to wait until later to confront him about it.

Bradley and Jake starts dating and BOTH Iceman and Maverick gives Hangman an individual shovel talk. However, instead of being intimidated, Jake just smiles and says, "I'm glad the big chicken have you in his corner, sir, he's very lucky to have you. And from the stories he tells me? He knows that he is."

Maverick and Iceman are stunned, but just nods and dismisses him.

Throughout the next couple weeks as more people find out about their relationship, more people from the Dagger Squad gives Hangman the shovel talk. Some even implying that he's lucky to have Bradley and doesn't deserve him. Hangman simply nods and agrees.

Bradley doesn't know about the shovel talks.

Not until Coyote gives Bradley one of the harshest talks in the world. That he better not hurt Jake, again.

Bradley and Jake dated a couple years ago, but Bradley left Jake heartbroken with no explanation because he had issues. In the process, giving Jake his callsign and even isolating him from his peers. Jake did nothing to deserve that. It took Bradley a while to realize the damage he'd done, and he's spending every moment with Jake making up for it.

Javy also tells Bradley to get his friends to lay-off Jake. Bradley is confused before Javy explains how everyone has been giving Jake shovel talks and implying he doesn't deserve Bradley.

Bradley is horrified because if they knew the whole story it was him who didn't deserve Jake. He shut that down harshly.

Jake calms him down by saying, "It's good that you got a flock of birds at your wing, Roo."

But Bradley shoots back, "They're your team too Jake, they shouldn't be acting like this."

Later on, the whole team finds out the whole story and they feel conflicted about how to treat Bradley and Jake. They do feel guilty for making assumptions about they relationship.

Jake contemplates what happens and although he is happy that Bradley have people watching his back. He is bitter that his reputation made so many people doubt his commitment to Bradley, and how so many people made assumptions that weren't true.

A part of him is jealous that Bradley had a family who would stand behind him. Father-figures, uncle-figures, best friends/siblings, teammates, and more. He's happy for Bradley, but to him, watching Bradley interact with them is like watching them through a wall of water. Everything is tinted and blurred differently, and there will always be something separating him from what Bradley considers normal.

At least, no matter what happens, he always had Javy on his 6.

-----

(Eventual happy ending where they're all found family and stuff and misunderstandings are cleared, and some people who gave Jake the shovel talk gave Bradley the shovel talk.

“Lieutenant Commander Seresin.”

Hangman always woke up quickly when addressed to, a blessing in the service, a remnant of his childhood. Hangman shot up from where he was hunched over in his desk, a trail of drool on the side of his mouth as he swirled around at his chair to see Cyclone of all people standing beside him.

“Sir,” Hangman said, standing up quickly, and wiping a hand over his mouth. Pointedly ignoring the flash of dizziness that hit him, as he blinked to clear the blurriness still left in his eyes.

“At ease, son,” Cyclone said, brows furrowed. “It’s late, why are you still here sleeping on your desk instead of your bed?”

“Just some paperwork I need to do,” Hangman said, frowning at his dead computer and the piles of paper littered around the desk. “Mission briefs, lesson plans, reports, and all that,” Hangman drawled, sighing. "You know how it is, bein' an admiral and all."

Cyclone looked down at the papers, squinting to skim the contents, “You need to delegate your work among the other Daggers. Hell, some of the work here isn’t due until next week. There’s no reason for you to stay this late, son.”

Hangman shrugged, “Just keepin’ busy, sir,” averting his eyes, and rubbing them.

Cyclone decided to drop it, “Come on kid, I’ll bring you home, pack your stuff up.” Cyclone watched Seresin open his mouth to argue, but it quickly shifted to a yawn. Beau raised a brow at the boy who sheepishly smiled and started packing his stuff.

“It’s all good, sir, I can drive myself home, have a good nig—”

“Not so fast, Seresin, I just saw you pass out at your desk. That’s unusual for you, I’m not letting you drive home. Either I drive you home, or you call one of your friends to take you.” Cyclone said firmly, crossing his arms. He wasn’t going to let his aviator drive exhausted.

It was unsettling to see the dark circles, messed up hair, and rumpled uniform from the usually unflappable, man.

He watched Seresin’s face twist into a grimace before settling into a pout and crossing his arms.

Cyclone ignored the warm feeling that burst through his chest, trying to control the smile tugging at the edge of his lip.

“So what’s it going to be, son?” Cyclone said, voice softer.

He saw the boy’s face scrunch up as he thought for a while. He had never seen Hangman so expressive, but that just shows how tired the younger man was.

“Are ya sure ya good with doing that, sir? Aren’t ya tired an’ busy?” Hangman muttered, averting his eyes.

Beau’s eyes softened as he clasped his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, making sure to telegraph his movements. Seresin looked back at him.

“It’s no problem to me, son, I just want you to be safe. Now come on, pack your stuff and let’s go,” Beau said, patting his shoulder one last time before stepping back to lean against the wall.

Seresin packed his bag and Cyclone tilted his head in a silent order to follow him until they quickly reach his truck. Perks of being the air boss is a close parking slot. He opened the passenger door for Seresin, waving him in as he walked towards the Driver’s side and got settled.

“Thank you, sir,” Jake muttered softly as he fumbled with his seatbelt, eyes blinking as his head started drooping. Beau busied himself with turning on the AC and the radio to fight the urge to reach over and do the seatbelt himself.

“Like I said, it’s no problem, son,” Beau said as he gave Jake a small smile, making the younger man look down and away in embarrassment. 

Beau backed up from the parking slot, and started driving towards the younger man's housing.

Despite the ride only being a couple of minutes, the boy started nodding off, head jerking up a couple of times before he ended up with his head drooped down, leaning forward on his seatbelt, exhaling soft snores in every breath. 

While the light was red, Beau reached out and gently pushed Jake's chest back so he was leaning back on the seat. He held his breath as Jakd mumbled nonsense in his sleep and his head rolled to the side. He huffed a breath of air in relief and impulsively reached out to gently run a hand through the kid’s hair, smiling when he saw his face relaxed and unconsciously lean in.

The light turn green, but instead of driving directly to Jake's housing, he drove to a small chinese food place that he preferred. He parked in the parking lot and made a call to order, glancing every now and then to his sleeping companion to make sure he stays asleep. He requested that they bring the food directly to his car. He tipped the worker well and he drove off.

He knew that it would be best if the boy went to sleep in his own bed, but he couldn’t help but drive around the block a couple of times to allow the kid as much rest as he could give in his car. He could order him to go home, but he can’t order him to sleep or whatever he wants to do off the clock in his own home.

He parked in front of Jake’s apartment complex, and looked over at the boy before he reached over and gently shook his shoulder awake. “We’re here, kid, come on, you’re almost near your bed.” Cyclone said, chuckling softly.

Seresin slowly blinked awake, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. Looking around a bit disoriented.

“Oh, thanks bossman,” Jake mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Like I said, it’s no problem, son,” Beau said warmly, reaching over to grab one of the paper bags of food from the back seat. “Here, I know you wouldn’t want to cook after such a long day, so eat up with this,” he said handing the paperbag to the boy who blinked down brows furrowed.

“Ya didn’t have to, sir,” Jake mumbled as he opened the paperbag in his lap to peer inside at the contents.

“I wanted to,” Beau said, simply. “Now go on, go get some rest. That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander,” Beau said, with a bit of steel in his voice.

Seresin simply rolled his eyes at him. Brat.

“Aye, aye, boss,” Seresin said, giving him a lazy two-fingered salute, as he exited the car. “Drive slow, old man, wouldn’t want you passing out from the car’s G-force,” giving Cyclone the typical Hangman smirk, as he walked backwards towards his housing.

It was Cyclone’s turn to roll his eyes.

God, he wasn’t this insufferable when he was in Top Gun, was he?

“Yeah, sure, buddy.” Beau simply deadpanned, shaking his head.

For some reason that just made Seresin smile wider as he turned around fully to open the door.

He made sure to watch Seresin go inside the apartment complex before shifting his car into drive to go to his own home.

Even if today was a tiring day, he couldn’t help, but smile at the warmth that he felt throughout the rest of the day.

—

Jake immediately turned off his alarm as soon as it went off, giving out a sigh before rolling out of bed before starting on his morning routine.

It took after he got dressed to realize that he did not have his truck.

He didn’t drive home from work, he didn’t even have to cook from work, Cyclone drove him, and by extension, fed him. All he did was eat a full meal and pass out.

His truck was on base.

Jake sighed as he resigned himself to paying for an overpriced Uber, before his phone started ringing.

“Seresin,” he quickly answered.

“Are you ready for work?” The familiar voice of his air boss asked.

Jake frowned as he look down at his watch, he wasn’t late. He was far from late.

“I mean, yes, sir, but I’m not late–? Is there somethin’ I’m missin’?” Seresin asked as he quickly went through his agenda for the past couple of days to remember what he had to do today that the air boss had to call him this early in the morning.

He came with a blank.

“Nah, kid, I remembered I drove you home last night, so you didn’t have your car. I was gonna offer you a ride,” his boss paused for a bit. “And breakfast, I’m hungry, and you probably are too.”

Jake frowned, “I wouldn’t want to intrude–”

“You’re not.” Cyclone said, firmly cutting him off, “I’ll be there in 10, unless you have any objections to that?” 

“Negative, sir,” Jake drawled before pausing. “Thank you, Cyclone.”

“No problem, son.”

Cyclone picked him up with no fanfare and he drove them to a small diner he’d never been to before. Cyclone ordered their Big Breakfast Special, and he did the same. Pancakes, a pile of bacon, eggs, sausage patties, house fries, and a toasted english muffin. It was delicious.

“Slow down, kid, we’re not in a rush,” Beau said amused as he hid a smile behind his coffee.

“It’s good!” Seresin exclaimed with childlike glee he’d never seen before.

“You don’t get to eat out often?” 

“Nah, not as much as I used to, don’t have time to eat, ya know?” Jake said, drowning a slice of pancake in syrup before shoving it in his mouth. “Sometimes I just get home, pass out, and wake up just in time to make it to my next shift.”

Beau frowned at that, a sense of unease churning in his chest, “I see…” He trailed off, unsure how to continue this conversation without overstepping. 

“Do you want an extra pancake and sausage patty? I can’t finish it,” Cyclone said, already transferring the food over to the younger man’s plate without even finishing the question.

“T-thank you, sir?” Seresin asked, confused as his eyes darted from his plate to Beau who just went back to munching on his bacon and reading the news on his phone.

His eyes softened when he saw the younger man shrug and dig in from the corner of his eye. The action made him look younger than his years.

He’s going to watch over him from now on, starting with why in the world was he overworking himself at the moment, and how long has it been going on?

“I mean if ya wanted help with managing your cholesterol and blood sugar, sir, you should have just given me the bacon as well,” Jake said, grinning as he shoveled a piece of sausage patty in his mouth.

Beau rolled his eyes as he looked upward and sighed. Why did he decide to accept the posting of dealing with a bunch of hotshot twenty-somethings?

“My cholesterol is fine, I’m not that old,” Cyclone grumbled, leaning back and squinting at the small text on his phone.

“I never said you were old, Admiral, sir,” Jake said, giving Beau a smirk.

Brat

Beau ignored the blinding smile Jake gave when he put two strips of bacon on the younger man’s plate, and flagged the waitress down to order a separate plate of bacon.

“The bacon is going to be shared, Seresin, don’t get too excited,” Beau said, taking another sip of his coffee.

Ch1 (Diners and Late Nights)/Ch 2

“You called me in, Admiral?” Seresin said, standing at attention in front of his desk.

“At ease, Lieutenant, you’re not in trouble,” Cyclone said watching the kid, moving the papers he was looking at to the side.

“Didn’t think I was, sir,” Hangman drawled.

Cocky brat.

Despite that, the sharp line on his shoulders softened.

“Due to scheduling conflicts, the earliest we can deploy you is a month from now,” he said, watching the younger man who gave no indication whether or not he was disappointed. “However, your instructors say that you’re eager to work, much more so than whatever your paperwork implies. Additionally, it seems like you have aspirations to move up the ranks.”

“I like having something to do, sir, being higher in the ranks allows that and prohibits that at the same time,” Hangman said evenly. “I love flying, sir, but I understand that I can not do that all the time, might as well do something else between that.”

Smart kid.

“Well, Top Gun is empty right now. Only you remain in the barracks. Everyone else is preparing for the next batch of Top Gun graduates, maintenance, and catching up on administrative tasks. Might as well make yourself useful,” Cyclone said, handing Hangman a folder. “The mechanics are doing maintenance on the jets, you know your jet based on the manual, but you’ve never delved deep inside of it, have you?”

“Not more than what was required of me, sir, the Navy wanted the mechanics to focus on that,” Seresin replied, opening the folder with details on what he would be doing for the day.

“Well, back in my day, pilots and backseaters were more involved in hands-on, plane maintenance. Are you going to let us old timers be better than you at that?” Cyclone drawled out, staring at Hangman in the eye.

Seresin’s brow furrowed before he snapped the folder shut and straightened up, “Back in your day you were flying what would be now considered a fossil, sir,” Hangman said smirking. “I’ll go report to the hangar.”

“Good man,” Cyclone said, the corner of his lip twitching when he noticed Seresin leaving the room with a little more bounce on his step.

—

“How did he do? Any trouble?” Cyclone asked, approaching Warrant Officer Walker who was watching the mechanics and Seresin from afar who seemed to be delving in underneath the jet.

Walker snorted, giving a small smile as he rubbed his chin, “Eh, he’s just like the other kids in these parts.”

“Oh?”

“Young, confident, full of shit, but a good kid, this one works hard,” Walker said, smiling at Cyclone. “I heard this one was the last winner of Top Gun, I gotta say I was a bit worried. I know those kids talk a lot of shit, but damn, did I almost think you assigned him to me as punishment.”

“Not like you to judge a man before meeting him,” Cyclone said, crossing his arms, brows furrowed.

Walker shrugged, “The rumor mill is a bit more crazier these days, or that kid just special. Plus, heard some of the comments he said to his classmates, well, the kid has a mouth on ‘im.”

That’s saying something considering they were all in the military.

“He still got that mouth, but it ain’t anythin’ bad, just the usual young men talking shit and making fun with one another. Nothing close to what little I heard from ‘im before,” Walker said.

He mostly supervised the cohort from afar, and the few times he was directly involved, was a few minutes, with the men all in their best behavior. However, he did read the reports, but reports are for report keeping, not for a reflection of real life.

“I see,” Cyclone said, frowning and crossing his arms.

He watched as Seresin crawled out from under the jet, arms of his flight suit tied at the waist, and white shirt covered in grease. He stood up and looked like he was pouting when he looked down at his grease covered hands. Hangman finally noticed Cyclone when he looked up, grinning and giving the Admiral a two-fingered salute.

Cyclone felt Walker’s eyes in the side of his head as Cyclone nodded at the boy to go help out the other mechanics.

“You like the kid, don’t ya?” Walker mused, before Cyclone could reply the other man clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. “Bring ‘im around whenever, I’ll look after ‘im.”

Cyclone patted Walker’s shoulder in response.

—

“Is it true that you got engine oil dunked in your hair when you were an ensign?” Hangman blurted out.

Cyclone slowly raised his head from the paper Seresin gave him to look at Seresin with a raised brow. It was a week after Hangman started working with the mechanics, and if he wasn’t doing that, he was studying the documents used at Top Gun with him at the office. He was helping him sort through survey data, and the report Seresin produced was much more impressive than he expected.

Seresin simply stared back, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Where in the rumor mill did you find that?” Cyclone drawled.

“Warrant Officer Walker, Admiral,” Hangman said dutifully.

The vein in Cyclone’s forehead twitched, he should have figured that sooner.

Goddammit Lucas.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, Lieutenant Seresin,” Cyclone said looking back down at the paper.

“That’s why I’m confirming the facts with you, sir,” Hangman said, lips pressed tightly together to prevent it from twitching upwards.

“I can neither confirm nor deny those allegations,” Cyclone said drily, flipping the paper to the next page.

However, he couldn’t help but smile when he heard the hold back a snort, grinning brightly at him.

Ch 1/Ch 2 (Work and Distractions)

Hangman slipped out of the crowded bar, leaving the chorus of celebrating aviators behind him, and started walking towards the Boardwalk. It was quiet, no tourists this time of the year, so barely anyone was milling around. Shops closed, light from dying lamp posts, the beach dark.

He got far enough that the bar was a blip in the distance. He reckoned by the time he got back, most of his classma- former classmates would have gone home to wherever. The bar doors closed for the night. 

He leaned his forearms at the railing, hearing the waves crash on the beach, but only see glimpses of the water due to the moon’s reflection. He sighed as he pulled out a new pack of cigarettes, unwrapping them and pulling one out.

He brought one between his teeth and lit it with a lighter, his other hand blocking the wind. He took a slow deep drag, held it in, breath again, 5 seconds, and out. He watched the smoke dissipate in the air, before he brought the cig to his lips again.

He won Top Gun.

After all those weeks of intense training. All these past few years in the Navy. All the years he spent studying, working, and training his ass off. He got the trophy. He should have been elated. He was, he swear he was, but all he felt was, nothing.

When his name was called he felt elated, as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders, relief. He smiled, laughed with Javy as he hooked an arm around his shoulder. Shook hands. Gave a grin and sarcastic remarks to his cohort. 

It died down.

Not the noise. Never the bright lives of the people around him, smiling, laughing, celebrating. From the classrooms, hangar, to the bar. All of them were celebrating, and he was smiling too, but it felt forced. Everything around him felt out of focus, as if he wasn’t fully there. Going through the motions of getting inside his truck and driving to the bar. Ordering a beer, but letting it get cold and stale. 

He won.

He felt relieved.

Then nothing.

He looked up, the sky was devoid of any stars, the moon was bright though.

He pulled out his phone, and opened the messaging app.

He scrolled down and pressed on his Dad’s contact. 

Stilted conversations. Unsolicited advice or criticisms. One word answers. Last message was sent 6 weeks ago.

He closed the chat.

Javy was probably back at the barracks sleeping. He had an early flight tomorrow.

Hell, he was pretty sure everyone else had an upcoming flight.

He took another drag of a cigarette.

He hoped that winning Top Gun would mean they could expedite his deployment. Better to have something to do, right?

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, groaning as he ran a hand through his hair with his other hand. 

“A penny for your thoughts, Lieutenant Seresin?” a voice asked and Jake turned around 

It took him a second to realise who it was, he’d never seen Admiral Simpson in regular clothing.

“Sir,” he said, straightening up, stubbing his cigarette on the railing.

“At ease, Lieutenant,” Cyclone drawled, walking to lean on the railing beside him. “I’m not in uniform, and we’re off the clock. No need for formalities right now.”

Jake hesitantly nodded, throwing the cigarette bud away in a trashcan nearby.

“Didn’t think of you as a smoker,” Cyclone started casually.

“Not usually one, first time in months,” Seresin said, shrugging.

“A celebration for winning Top Gun?”

“Nah, ‘just needed to clear my head.” 

“Hmm, I get that, you’ll be needing a lot of those times when you go up the ranks in the Navy, try not to rely on that thing too much.” 

Jake felt a flash of irritation, “I don’t smoke a lot. Anyways,” Seresin said before giving the older man a smirk, “You think I’ll go up the ranks, Admiral? That seems like a compliment.”

Cyclone simply grunted in response. “That attitude will both help and curse you up the ranks.”

Seresin simply shrugged, “I know.”

“You know, I got your deployment request,” Cyclone started, making Jake stiffen.

“Yeah?” Jake said, trying to play it casually. He wished he didn’t snub out his cigarette, but he wasn’t rude enough to smoke in front of someone who wasn’t smoking.

“Pretty early timeline, don’t you think?”

“Got nothin’ better to do,” Jake said, shrugging. “Top Gun’s over, time to move-on to the next thing, right, sir?”

Cyclone gave him a look that made Jake hunch his shoulders before straightening up, “What?” He said glaring.

“I probably should have expected it, but I did not think you were a workaholic, Lieutenant.” Simpson said coolly.

Seresin shrugged, “I like to keep busy, sir, what else would I do?”

“Hmmm, you like breakfast Lieutenant.”

Jake looked at the admiral with a raised brow, “... Yes-?”

“Do you have anything you have to do tonight?”

“No-”

“Perfect, meet me in this diner, my treat, I need to properly congratulate this year’s Top Gun winner anyways.” Simpson said.

“You gave me my trophy and shook my hand already, though-?”

“Defying orders, Lieutenant?”

“I thought we were off the clock!”

-----

Seresin stood in front of the brightly lit diner. Before stepping inside. Noticing the classic red seats, 80s decorations, and bright neon lights. A little ring from a bell on the door.

“Be there in a sec!” A voice shouted from the back where the kitchen presumably was.

“Seresin,” Cyclone called out from the counter. “Almost thought you weren’t coming.”

He almost didn’t.

“It was a walk to my truck,” Jake answered instead, sitting down next to the man, opening the menu in front of him.

“Order whatever you want, I already ordered,” Cyclone said, sipping from his mug.

“Coffee this late at night, sir?”

“No, hot chocolate, they make theirs themselves, it’s very good.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Jake said, nodding. “How’d you know this place, anyways?”

“You stay around these parts long enough, you start to know where the best 24hr dining option is. Been going here for years. Tastes better at night.”

Jake couldn’t argue with that.

An older lady came out from the back, “What can I get for you, honey?”

“Just the platter, ma’am, bacon and scrambled eggs,” Jake said, smiling. “And a hot chocolate too, please.”

“Aww aren’t you a polite young man,” she said, making Jake flush and duck his head. Barely anyone in the Navy would call him polite. “Beau, bring him around more often.” She said before going back to the kitchen.

“So you can get along with people,” Cyclone mused.

“I know how to get people to like me, I just choose not to, not worth the effort, most of the time,” Jake said, reaching forward for the case of toothpicks, shaking one out to his hand and bringing it to his mouth.

“So, you usually bring your subordinates to diners?”

“No,” Cyclone said simply. “Just the ones that look like they need a warm meal in them.”

“You’re the airboss, maybe you should do something about the slop in the cafeteria.”

Cyclone snorted, “I tried like many before me, and it remains one of my greatest failures,” Cyclone said drily. “Plus, it wouldn’t be the Navy without shitty food, would it?”

Beau and Jake fluff, hurt/comfort