#hangmanrooster

thinking about a rooster who leaves active duty. settles into civilian life and finally starts getting treatment for the anxiety he’s been riddled with since he was a kid. holds his hands together on his lap in the psychiatrist’s waiting room to hide the way they’re trembling.

thinking about how he decides that the therapy is fine, sure — they aren’t making connections for him that he hasn’t already made himself, though.

(it’s never been about a lack of knowledge, but more a lack of drive spurred by anything other than rage and spite. he knows, logically, why his mind operates the way that it does. he also knows, logically, why it doesn’t matter when he’s self-righteous and managing just fine on his own.)

thinking about how the meds are what really help. he’s been on the receiving end of short term anxiolytics before. the miracle mission was hardly his first close call with death. but this is long-term. this is a daily dose, a rewriring of his exhausted mind, and holy fuck.

(people live like this? people aren’t constantly planning for the next awful thing? there can be peace? why didn’t anyone tell him sooner?)

thinking about how his shoulders no longer feel like they’re constantly level with his ears. how he starts to recognize that the catastrophizing isn’t his first instinct anymore.

thinking about rooster finally making a move and kissing hangman the way he’s wanted to since the day they met, only slowing down when they’re falling into bed together to explain that sometimes the meds have side effects.

thinking about how for their first time, hangman takes it as a personal challenge. pulls all his best moves in an attempt to help rooster come. tries to apologize for coming multiple times himself when he couldn’t even get rooster there once. how rooster laughs and says, “you’ve never apologized to me in your life, seresin. don’t you fuckin’ start now.”

thinking about how there’s a line deepening between jake’s brows as he replays the entire evening in his mind. trying to figure out why he didn’t manage it, what move he has that he didn’t try. how rooster smooths away the wrinkle with his thumb and pulls jake into a kiss.

(“stop, jake. sex is a way to be close, yeah? we can be close without having to come. I wanna be with you. I actually like being with you, god help us all.” “mm, well. according to my parents, he stopped helping guys like us a long time ago.” “oof. don’t let my god-fearing momma hear you say that.” “… Isn’t your mom dead?”)

thinking about rooster settling down with hangman when they finally agree to make a real go of it. buying a place together. holding a drunken funeral ceremony for the box of condoms gathering dust in the bedside table. rooster playing the role of dutiful boyfriend/underpaid lyft driver at the airport after hangman’s latest deployment. waiting in the arrivals terminal with a sign that reads ‘america’s next golden bachelor’ because hangman hasn’t stopped talking about the patch of gray hair on his own head that he’s bravely decided to stop coloring.

thinking about rooster staring up at jake as they move together in their bed, in their home, sweat-slicked and so fucking quiet. jake taking all the time in the world just to help bradley feel good for as long as he wants. not pushing them toward that rush of endorphins anymore — just a steady, constant thrum of pleasure. staying close. drawing it out.

thinking about jake leaning down to kiss him and slowing the roll of his hips until he stops, their bodies pressed together from head to toe.

thinking about jake brushing their noses together. nudging his cock the slightest bit deeper into bradley’s body. breathless and lazy as he rasps, “this close enough for you, rooster?”

my most recent hangster bookmark:

where the heart lies, with you (10913 words) by iridescent Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Top Gun (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin Characters: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Additional Tags: Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Getting Together, Confessions, Oral Sex, Frottage, Canon Compliant Series: Part 3 of love is Summary: “What’s this for?” Bradshaw asks warily in the middle of the tarmac, staring down at the protein bar Jake shoved unceremoniously into his hand. He looks suspicious and slightly bewildered, like he always does whenever he’s within proximity to Jake. “For decoration, obviously,” Jake replies, mocking. It’s the last in the box he keeps in his locker as an easy means of refueling pre or post hop, but Bradshaw needn’t know all that. “I had extra and don’t like that flavor anyway.” (Jake’s love language is acts of service, Bradley is oblivious until he’s not.)

and two all-time favorites:

i come from where the rivers meet the sea (5864 words) by luciferinasundaysuit Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Top Gun (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin Additional Tags: This one’s for the southern queers, Developing Relationship, Post-Canon, we are ignoring the military propaganda, 5+1 Things Summary: Phoenix pinches the bridge of her nose. “One night. One night without whatever all this is. My kingdom for one night.” “There’s no all this!” Rooster protests. Like a liar. Hangman takes his arm back, slides off his chair and goes back to the dart board. Rooster tries not to feel cold. “Of course not, Rooster,” Hangman says, just short of condescendingly. “I could never bring a yankee home, and I respect you too much to hit it and quit it.” Or 5 times Rooster didn’t tell Hangman where he was from + 1 time he did

--

from the mpreg!bradley hangster fic I will one day finish

High school teachers who also coach some of the sports teams so they’re always working late/doing extra stuff at the school and therefore spend tons of time together

jake and bradley have a competition to see who can get the braid done fastest —

jake chewing on his toothpick the whole time. “quit squirmin’, darlin’, you’re gonna slow me down.”

bradley quietly cursing as he feels jake’s elbow knocking against his side, tapping his daughter’s head with his fingers when she mentions the (overflowing) swear jar. “that one was your dad’s fault, we’ll make him pay, huh?”

//

“You don’t have to come inside with me,” Bradley says, scratching a hand over the back of his neck. “Seriously, man, you can – “

Jake’s expression stops him halfway through his sentence.

“Okay, Jesus,” Bradley mutters, laughing and holding his hands up in surrender. “Come with me, I don’t care.”

The smell of the clinic hits him as soon as Jake opens the door, and it takes everything in him not to retch at the scent. Part of it’s tied up with memories of his mother’s illness and memories of the sickbay after the mission, but part of it is just good old-fashioned morning sickness, too.

Smart kid, Bradley thinks to himself. Hospitals suck.

It isn’t until Bradley’s finished with the pile of paperwork that he realizes Jake hasn’t said a word since they got here. He glances over and realizes Jake’s watching a pair of toddlers in the corner, both standing on wobbly legs as they play with the tabletop train set the clinic’s provided. The smile on Jake’s lips is —

Well. It makes Bradley’s heart ache. Makes him want to do stupidly unbearable things, like give Jake a child of his own right this second so he can see that look all the time. Almost like a reflex, Bradley rubs a hand over his stomach and then curls his fingers into a fist instead, knocking it against Jake’s thigh.

Jake glances over at the touch, eyebrow quirking. “You good?”

Bradley nods, watching the kids for a second before meeting Jake’s eyes again. “Just watching you.”

“And how do I look?” Jake asks, smirking.

That stupid, devilish tilt to his lips is ever present, but he hasn’t managed to get rid of the wistfulness in his eyes yet. Bradley can see it so easily.

//

Some mornings, Bradley wakes up and feels anxiety already thrumming beneath his skin. Feels it settled into his chest, tingling along the backs of his thighs; his thoughts are racing and his head aches with the stress of trying to relax.

These are the mornings he’s most grateful to not wake up alone anymore.

Jake blearily cracks an eye open when Bradley moves into him, arm automatically lifting to wrap around Bradley’s body and hold him close. He hums sleepily at the warmth of Bradley’s back against his chest and thumbs at the jut of Bradley’s collarbone, fingers tangling in the gold chain around his neck for a moment.

“Y’okay?” he asks, voice sleepwarm and rough.

Bradley used to say he was. Figured a quick lie was better than letting Jake in.

Now, though.

“Been awake since 4,” Bradley admits quietly. “Can’t fuckin’ shut my brain off.”

Jake hums, already moving to roll them so Bradley’s on his stomach with Jake stretched out over his back. Bradley shuts his eyes and breathes out a grateful sigh, sinking into the full weight of Jake’s body on top of his.

“Just you and me,” Jake whispers, hands sliding up Bradley’s arms. He runs a foot along the inside of Bradley’s calf beneath the sheets, slots their fingers together above Bradley’s head beneath his pillow. “Just us here. I’ve got ya.”

“More,” Bradley whispers, squeezing Jake’s fingers.

Jake kisses Bradley’s shoulder, the chain over the back of his neck, the scar on his back that runs parallel to his spine. Bradley’s exhale is rougher when he feels Jake let go of his hands to get up, watching him in the corner of his vision as he grabs the lube from their bedside table. Jake keeps a hand on Bradley’s skin the entire time he moves, squeezing his hip with that same hand when he’s blanketed over Bradley’s back again.

“Two?” Jake asks softly.

Bradley spreads his legs a bit. “Three,” he rasps, sinking into that weighed-down feeling again. “Don’t make me wait.”

So Jake doesn’t. Slicks three fingers up and works them in slowly, deliberately, breathing praises into Bradley’s skin. Bradley focuses on the blunt pressure when Jake’s fingers press in, focuses on the slow drag of his fingers pulling out.

“Right here with me, Rooster,” Jake whispers, fingers spreading as he finds Bradley’s prostate. “I’ve got ya.”

“I know,” Bradley gasps, the ache in his chest slowly twisting into something warmer, less fearful. He curls a hand over the back of Jake’s neck and squeezes.

“More?” Jake asks, already pulling his fingers free.

Bradley just nods, his mind blissfully calm. He can feel Jake’s fist bumping against his thighs as he quickly works to slick himself up.

When Jake presses in, warm and firm inside him, heavy all around him, Bradley finally feels the tension leaving his body.

“There you are,” Jake says softly, hands moving underneath Bradley’s chest and then curling up over the front of his shoulders. “Breathe, pretty bird.”

“Jake, I…” Bradley starts, voice catching when Jake finally starts to move. Slow, steady rolls of his hips to keep them as close as possible.

“I know,” Jake says, hearing the words Bradley still isn’t able to say. “I know. Me, too.”