#soft rooster

“Anyone has it ?”

Jake who was showing something on his phone to Javy didn’t even look up, “do we have what ?”

Reuben pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, God were these guys incompetent when they weren’t flying at supersonic speed in a war machine.

“What are you sulking for, Payback ?” Natasha asked.

As soon as Bradley heard her voice, he looked up from his phone, on which he was pretending to be busy. Sure enough, you were right next to Natasha, back from your little trip to the bathroom.

Bradley had willed himself to not look too excited when Natasha had asked if you, her best friend, could accompany the squad on their outing to the music festival that had settled on the edge of town for a weekend. They all knew you pretty well by now, Natasha had already dragged you along to multiple hangouts with them. But it had only taken a few minutes after your first meeting for Bradley’s heart to do somersaults in his chest at the mere mention of your name. Still, he had yet to make a move. Why ? He didn’t really know. Each time he worked himself up to ask you out, or not even that, simply ask for your number, he would backtrack.

Bradley didn’t consider himself to be a shy guy, hell no. But there was something about you that made him a bit tongue tied whenever you were too close to him, and he would lie if he said that it didn’t embarrassed him a bit, at his age to still feel a schoolboy blush creeping up his cheeks when you sent a smile his way.

“Do you want me to hold your bag ?” Bradley asked, cringing a bit at how earnest he sounded.

You shook your head with a warm smile, “I’m okay, but thank you for proposing, that’s really nice.”

You affectionately squeezed his shoulder and Bradley’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly. The sole, brief contact of your hand on his covered shoulder was enough to send butterflies flying in his stomach with the force of ten Super Hornets.

“Yo Rooster, did you get sunburnt on your cheeks ?” Jake questioned with a smug grin, finger pointing to his own cheeks to accentuate his point, “you’re super red.”

Bradley only glared at him, and before he could retort anything, Natasha hit Jake on the back of the head.

“Leave him alone, Bagman.” She warned while Jake looked at her, deeply offended and rubbing the back of his head like the overly dramatic man he was, “now come on troops, let’s go to the main stage. In the toilet, Y/N and I heard people talking about a huge band that’s gonna play there.”

Everyone agreed and quickly started walking towards the main stage. Bradley was walking beside you, instinctively matching your pace to stay close to you. The squad was already quite far ahead when Bradley noticed that you had — purposely ? — slowed down a bit, leaving the two of you separated from the group. And being, if only a little, isolated with you like that made him equally as nervous as it made him giddy.

“Jake’s right you know, your cheeks are kinda red, you should put on some sunscreen.” You said softly, eyes fixed on the crimson hue painting his face.

Hearing the words ‘Jake is right’ coming from your pretty lips perhaps shouldn’t have left such a big sour taste in his mouth. Bradley tried to swallow the feeling off and focused on trying to not blush any harder under your soft and worried gaze.

He cleared his throat, “yeah, I probably should.”

“I have some in my bag,” you said helpfully, looking in your tote bag for the orange tub.

Your concern and desire to help him felt like a soothing balm on his bruised ego and he couldn’t contain the small, sheepish smile that pulled at his lips.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

But when he made a move to grab the sunscreen tube you seemed to be holding out for him, you immediately retracted your hand out of his reach.

“Let me ?” You asked, a glint in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

Bradley let out a small, surprised, but nonetheless absolutely delighted laugh. He stopped in his tracks, slightly lowering himself so it’d be easier for you to reach his face, which had definitely darkened in shade by now.

“Go ahead.” He said, voice dripping with fondness.

The word ‘sweetheart’ almost slipped away from him but he managed to reined it in at the last second. You giggled softly and squirted a small amount of sunscreen on both of his cheeks.

“Let’s not forget the forehead and chin as well…” you mumbled under your breath, which made Bradley smile even more.

Very gently and carefully, maybe more than anyone had ever been with him, you began to rub the cream onto his cheeks, making sure that it was fully covering and protecting his face. The feeling of your delicate fingers almost affectionately rubbing his face was sending his heart into a frenzy, accompanied by a warmth that spread in his entire body. It felt so good and for a moment Bradley was conflicted between closing his eyes to enjoy the experience to its full extent, or stay like this, his gentle brown eyes gazing down at you with surely nothing short of adoration as you focused entirely on getting every little nook of his face.

When you finished, you cupped his face with infinite tenderness.

“There, you’re all good to go now.”

And as quick as you had put them on him, your hands were gone. And the intensity of the longing Bradley felt for your touch probably should have been concerning.

“Thank—“ his voice came out strangely hoarse and he was quick to clear his throat, “thank you, Y/N.”

You offered him a sweet smile, your hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder… for the second time in under ten minutes he noted.

“Well, looks like we lost them,” you said, when you turned your head to look at where the squad was suppose to be, just a bit ahead of you. In their place was now a whirlwind of people passing through, and none of them looked like cocky and overconfident naval aviators.

“It’s okay, we know where they’re going.” He said, voice dropping into a sweet and low register, the way it usually did around you.

Instinctively, and before he could do anything to rein it in, his hand reached out to yours, ready to protectively guide you into the swarming sea of people. And as soon as his hand made contact with yours, it finally registered in his mind. His hand retracted as if he’d been electrocuted by your touch.

“Sorry !” He said quickly, “I just thought— I mean I didn’t want you to get lost in the crowd, you know ?”

God, he was embarrassing himself.

Fearing to see repulsion on your features, his gaze fixated on the worn out and yellowing grass under his feet. A few seconds passed and the lack of any reaction coming from you made his heart sink at the bottom of his stomach. He had fucked it up, fucked it up before he could even make his interest clear, and after all perhaps it was for the best, at least he was fixed now, a girl like you couldn’t possibly be interested in a guy like him anyway—

Bradley’s whirlwind of self deprecating thoughts stopped dead in its tracks, rendered silent by your arms wrapping around his. His eyes snapped back up to meet yours.

“There, that way it’s more secure,” you explained, the warm smile never leaving your lips, “you won’t lose me.”

It was like time had froze for an instant, Bradley looked down at your bright smile that was meant for him, only for him at that moment and he physically felt his heart stutter. The feeling of your body pressed against his arm was almost too much for him, and the outline of your breasts against his arm downright felt like a test from God.

While willing his racing heart to calm down and his cheeks to not overheat, Bradley guided you in the crowd, making sure that nobody was jostling you too much. And his eyes immediately darted to you when he felt one of your hands slip away from his bicep. Just as quickly, he averted his gaze when he saw your hand going to the low neckline of your top, seemingly readjusting it, Bradley just prayed that you hadn’t follow his line of sight.

He was gonna move on, but when you repeated the movement three times just under the span of five minutes, Bradley felt like he could perhaps address the matter.

“Is everything alright ?”

“Yeah, it’s just—“ you did it again, hand coming up to slightly move your top, “this top is gorgeous but it’s itchy as hell.”

You were right. The top was gorgeous, more precisely it was gorgeous on you. All day, Bradley had willed himself to keep his eyes away from the pretty dip of the top which was showing off the swell of your breasts, the top made them sit so prettily, in a manner that had his mind spinning if he thought about it too long. But now that you mentioned it, the fabric indeed did not look very comfortable.

“I think it’s slowly starting to give my boobs a rash.”

Oh.

The mere mention of your chest had his cheeks flaming up again. Damn it, just when he had managed to get his blush under control.

Hearing you complain suddenly, and very strangely he had to admit, gave birth to an urge to fix your problem, provide a solution. And his brain was quick to find it.

“I can give you my shirt, if you want.” Bradley supplied before he had anymore time to think about it, and what was there to think about really ? He’d give you all his clothes in an instant if you’d asked.

You eyed his open Hawaiian shirt, “are you sure ?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I still have my tank top.”

You seemed to think about it for a second but made your mind pretty quickly.

“Well if it’s really not a bother then yeah, I’ll take it. Thank you, Bradley, that’s really nice of you.”

And then your hand came up to squeeze his bicep and Bradley wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to handle all your casual touches, which were very much not casual to him.

“Alright, let’s go to the toilets so you can change, yeah ?”

Turning back around and thus abandoning all the progress you had made in the crowd, you made your way towards the toilet.

“Oh god.” Was the only thing you were able to say as Bradley and you gazed at the endless waiting lines in front of each of the five portable toilets installed by the festival crew. “There literally were only five people ten minutes ago. I’m not waiting half an hour just to change clothes.”

Bradley’s mind was racing, trying to find another solution for you to change with the privacy you deserved. There was no way he would let you change outside here for everyone to see—

“I’ll just change outside.”

His head whipped towards you so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

“Outside ?!” He repeated, deeply offended and distressed you would even suggest something like that.

But his alarmed tone didn’t faze you, a small smile pulled at your lips, a mix of mischief and warmth that was doing dangerous things to him, “yeah, we’ll find a quiet corner, plus, you’ll shield me, right ?”

Like his life depended on it.

Thus, similar as a man on a mission, Bradley looked for a quiet place in the midst of the festival’s craziness. Anywhere near the toilets was out of questions, as well as any of the stages. Too much people.

Finally, Bradley managed to get you to a more tranquil space, just near some hotdog food truck, he found it bizarre to see a food stand without anyone agglutinating in front of it, but one look at the hotdogs quickly supplied him with all the answers. The trailer was empty, so he ushered you behind it, in the corner. He hastily took off his shirt, opened it wide open to cover you so nobody could even think of taking a glimpse.

“Alright, try to make it quick.” Bradley turned his head to give you privacy and also to look out for any creeps.

He heard you chuckle, along with the sound of moving fabric. “Who knew you could be so assertive ?” You teased.

But Bradley cringed at the tone he had dared to use with you, “sorry I didn’t—“

“No, it’s fine.” The smile in your voice was evident, “I like it.”

Gazing out in the empty part of the festival field, he tried not to say anything stupid now and ruin all the progress he’d made. He felt his shirt slip from his fingers as you delicately took it from him, promptly, he turned around, his back facing you and continued to stretch out his arms to shield you.

After a few seconds he heard you put something in your bag and then your fingers went to gently tap his shoulders.

Terrified of misinterpreting your cue, he asked, “can I turn around ?”

“Yes you can,” you agreed in an endeared laugh.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight blessing his eyes. Standing with a sheepish smile, you were showing off your new outfit to him. Outfit composed mainly of his Hawaiian shirt, falling onto your smaller frame perfectly. The few top buttons were opened, allowing the fabric to reveal just the beginning of the valley between your breasts before draping delicately over them.

Bradley felt like his brain short circuited. You looked nothing short of ethereal in his clothing. And the thought that right now, something of his was touching your arms, your stomach, your breasts… you, was entirely too much.

“Well ? How do I look ?” You prompted, facing his silence.

Bradley cleared his throat, “you— you look good. Great actually, it suits you better than me,” he tried to joke lightly, except it was nowhere near a joke, it was the pure, blatant truth and the casual laugh he had opted for sounded awfully hoarse.

Your smile widened and only then did Bradley catch the way your eyes seemed to be raking appreciatively over his now uncovered shoulders and arms. He preened on the inside and subconsciously puffed up his chest a little, desperately trying to appeal to you in anyway.

“Should we go find the others ?”

“Yeah.” Instinctively, you went back to his side, your arms snaking around his.

While trying to make your way back to the main stage, you passed by a relatively small one surrounded by quite a lot of people, quite the contrast compared to the size of the stage. Lively music was booming from the speakers, and the crowd was happily moving along to the beat. Bradley’s fast pace was suddenly cut short when you gently held him back, tugging lightly on his arm.

“Is everything okay ?”

“Let’s dance, Bradley.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“D— dance ? What about the others ? Don’t you want to get back to them ?”

“Not yet. Right now, I want to dance with you.”

Akin to an angel who came down on earth to bless him with your smile and presence, you gently pulled him towards the middle of the makeshift dance floor, giving him time to backtrack if he wanted to, but there wasn’t any world out there in which Bradley could ever pull away from you. The music suddenly changed. The rhythmic tunes subdued by the gentle sway of a slow dance.

“Ohh, look at that, perfect timing.” You smiled up at him.

Bradley was usually a good dancer, a pretty smooth one if he said so himself, comfortable in his body and the way it moved. But right now all his muscles were stiff, rendered useless and rigid under your expectant gaze.

“Don’t look so nervous,” you chuckled, taking his hands and placing them on your waist.

“I’m not.” He lied, not very convincingly.

Bradley prayed to God that you couldn’t feel the way his hands were slowly becoming clammier as they hesitantly rested on you. Your arms went around his neck, getting a bit closer to him. You swayed naturally to the slow beat of the song, taking him with you, and soon, guided by your elegant steps and soft words of encouragement, Bradley relaxed. Your fingers were lightly playing with the hair on his nape, and the occasional small drag of your nails there was rendering him putty in your hands, a tiny, delighted shiver going down his spine everytime. And for a moment, it seemed as if the crowd had disappeared, leaving you and Bradley alone, he was bathing in your attention and nothing had ever felt this good.

Your eyes were all too warm as they gazed up at him, just the tiniest bit squinted from the smile that never seemed to leave your lips whenever you were in his presence. And Bradley’s heart did somersaults in his chests when he caught your gaze flicking, almost imperceptibly, to his lips.

“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” Bradley whispered in an attempt to not break the moment, voice a bit husky from the closeness he shared with you.

You let out a small, endeared laugh. It was a stupid compliment, you both knew it. It wasn’t dancing, if anything it was more gently swaying and stepping to the side every once in a while, but he’d take any chance to compliment you.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

And by God did he want to know everything.

And just as he was about to finally voice this consuming desire, the music faded out, immediately replaced by loud drums, shattering the moment in the same time as the courage he had been mustering up all evening.

“Don’t look so gloom.” You almost cooed.

Shit, his face must have shown how annoyed he was at himself. Why couldn’t he just make a move ? The answer came too quick. What if you rejected him ? Bradley didn’t mind getting turned down, sure it was a little humbling at times, but it wasn’t that deep. But coming from you ? That was an entirely different story. One he wouldn’t be able to cope with if it ended badly.

Your voice got him out of his sulking turmoil.

“Bradley ?”

His eyes immediately snapped towards you.

“Yes ?” Voice going a bit high pitched at the end.

A chuckle passed your lips and Bradley got hit with a bone chilling realization, had you just been laughing all day at his inability to act like a normal person around you ? Did you think he was weird ? After all, you never really had the opportunity to truly see what he was like, since he was so guarded and uptight around you. Perhaps you thought he was the awkward, weird one of the squad. Oh god, what if you were just being nice to him out of pity ?

“Could you drive me home, please ? I’m a bit tired.”

That was it. You were tired of him, done, didn’t even want to go back to the squad.

“Are you sure ? Didn’t you want to stay for dinner at the Hard Deck after ?” He tried to reason, having a difficulty swallowing the lump in his throat. “The squad is gonna wonder where we are.”

“Yeah I’m sure, I’d like to go home, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course, no problem.”

He’d be damned if he didn’t at least make sure you got home safe after making you endure his presence all day.

“And don’t worry your pretty head about the squad, they’ll manage just fine without us.” You squeezed his shoulder for the nth time tonight, and when it had felt thrilling just a few minutes earlier, it just felt painful now.

“Alright.” Bradley hoped his smile came across as kind and did not convey any of the dread he was feeling up forming a pit in his stomach.

The drive to your house felt awfully charged to Bradley, and not in the way he usually liked. The soft hum from the radio was the only thing filling in the silence in the car. The sun was well set into its descending phase now, subduing a red and pink glow for the dark of the night. Bradley was unusually quiet, in the hopes of getting you the peace and quiet he thought you were looking for, after spending the last part of the evening babysitting him.

“Bradley ?”

God did he love hearing his name coming out of your mouth, and he prayed that after the awkward teenage boy act he had pulled tonight, that he would be given the chance to hear it again.

His eyes flicked over to you, seeing your hands playing with the buttons of his shirt on your chest.

“Yeah ?”

“You really are an oblivious guy, aren’t you ?”

Frowning, Bradley fully turned his head to get a look at you. His eyes widened when he saw you undoing every single button of the Hawaiian shirt, the fabric draping gracefully over your breasts, revealing the valley in between them. He quickly turned his gaze back to the road, his pulse roaring in his ears… and traveling quickly somewhere down south.

“I— um, I’m not sure, what is—“ his eyes flicked to you again, shirt open, your head was lolled to the side, looking at him with something he realized he might have misinterpreted from the start, his gaze returned on the road, taking the turn that led to your house, “what are you saying ?”

You let out a giggle as Bradley parked in front of your place, your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your gaze traveled to his mouth, a smile stretching yours. Wordlessly, you got out of the car. Confused, and ridiculously turned on, he got out as well, rounding the car and watching you walk to your door while he just stood there, unsure of what else to do. Did you want him to walk you to your door ? Did you want him to just leave you the fuck alone…? He was so confused.

And so he just watched as you unlocked your door and walked in… without ever closing it. You turned around in your entrance hall, eyes boring into his despite the meters separating you.

“If you didn’t catch the hint,” you said, and Bradley watched wide eyed as you let the shirt slip off your shoulders and fall gracefully to the ground, baring yourself to him, “that was an invitation for you to get in.”

Oh yeah, he definitely got it now.

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Author's note : I like to imagine Bradley as either this very observant and aware guy, or totally oblivious, there is no middle ground. Also I’m still having a bit of trouble writing Bradley and characterizing him so if you think I wrote him out of character too much, please do tell !!

A knock on the door makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

He's here.

Your heart is pounding as you take one last look in the mirror. You can't say you're impressed with what you see, but at least you look presentable.

It's very difficult to not trip as you rush down the stairs, already regretting wearing heels. They're very uncomfortable, and your balance isn't the best, so you normally opt for flats, but you want to make a decent impression.

For a moment, you consider hiding, saying you're sick, allowing yourself to break your ankle on these ridiculous heels.

Anything but go on this date.

Why, oh, why did Callie have to set me up with one of her pilot friends? you wonder, as you fumble around for your keys. Why does she even feel the need to set me up at all? I've told her time and time again that I'm resigned to the fact that I will be single for most of my adult life.

It takes you much longer than normal to unlock the door, mainly because your hands are shaking so badly that you can barely get the key in.

But once the door's finally open, you stare in shock at the man before you.

After all, it's not every day you see a guy with an 80s mustache, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and aviator sunglasses at your front door.

He should look absolutely ridiculous.

But he doesn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. He's very, very attractive. Unfairly so, you think.

Especially considering you're suddenly acutely aware that the colour on your dress doesn't really suit you, and neither does the style. You knew it didn't suit you when you picked it out, but you just pulled it on anyway in an act of rebellion, mainly because you didn't want to make a good impression.

Something you're sorely regretting, especially because you now feel extremely unattractive.

"Hey," he says. "Y/N, right?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

He holds out a hand. "I'm Bradley."

Why's he holding his hand out? You take it anyway, forcing a smile.

"You ready?" Bradley asks.

You nod.

He's surprisingly courteous, letting you hold onto his arm as he walks you to his car, and helping you in before getting in the other side.

"So, any ideas where you'd like to go?" he asks.

Oh, no. Your chest clenches with fear, and you shake your head, hoping you're not doing it too vigorously.

"How about the restaurant near the bar?" he suggests. "I've never been there, but I heard it's a nice place."

You nod, desperately hoping that he won't get mad at you for not speaking.

The rest of the drive is silent.

After he's parked the car, he turns to you. "These doors are a little tricky when you're not used to them. I'll get yours for you."

"Okay," you whisper. It's the first thing you've said all evening.

Once Bradley's helped you out, and locked the car, he offers you his arm.

"The restaurant's usually a little busy this time of day," he explains. "Callie'd never forgive me if I lost you on our first date."

You just nod as you take his arm, feeling more and more shy by the minute. You can tell that Bradley's trying to put you at ease, but you've already worked yourself up so much that you don't even know if it's possible for you to calm down.

***************************************************

Fortunately, you're seated very quickly. You have a feeling that it might have something to do with Bradley being so familiar with the staff, but you brush it off. He's probably just a friendly person.

Still, you're not complaining about being off your feet. Those heels were definitely a mistake.

"Do you want a menu, Y/N?" asks Bradley.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, and then nod, your face burning.

"Here." His hand brushes yours as he hands you one.

You manage a small smile as you take it.

You're not very hopeful as you read down the menu. While they look nice, none of the main courses sounds like something you'd eat. Normally, if you were out with a friend or your family, and you ran into a situation like this, you'd order off the children's menu, but you're too scared to here, in case Bradley thinks you're weird, or makes fun of you for it.

"So, what are you thinking?" asks Bradley.

You look up, wishing your throat wouldn't clench so. Hoping he won't think you're rude, you show him what you're ordering. Fortunately, some of the sides look okay, so you've decided to order a couple of them in lieu of a main.

"You sure that's all you want?" he asks. "You don't want a main?"

You nod.

Bradley leans forward, lowering his voice. "You know, if there's nothing you like, we can just go to another restaurant."

You shake your head. Tears begin pricking at your eyes as you try to find the words to explain, almost wishing he'd just snap at you. For some reason, his kindness is making you feel much worse than if he got annoyed, or yelled at you.

It takes some time, but you manage to push past the barrier between your brain and vocal cords. "It's - it's not that I don't like anything, I just - I'd prefer to order off the children's menu. It's just - more familiar territory."

"Hey, that's okay," says Bradley gently. "Was that all you were worried about?"

Not exactly. But you nod anyway.

"I don't mind you ordering off the kids' menu, and I'm not gonna make fun of you for it, okay? I just want to make sure you have a good time."

You manage a small smile. "That's - very kind of you."

Bradley smiles. "It's nothing."

As the server comes over to take your order, your nerves suddenly increase tenfold. You've always hated having to speak to order, but you've never really felt comfortable typing an order out and just showing it to the server, either.

"Hi, can I take your order?"

You don't even hear Bradley tell the server his order, because you're trying to plan out what you're going to say - and try and stir up the courage to actually say it.

Then you feel a hand on your arm, and your face burns as you realise that you haven't even acknowledged the server, and have in fact been staring into space for some time.

"Do you want me to order for you?" Bradley's voice is very soft, whether to try and calm you, or to save you from any more embarrassment, you're not quite sure.

You nod, feeling horribly guilty at ignoring the server, but not really knowing what to say.

But you do apologise to Bradley once the server's gone. "Sorry. I didn't mean to - sorry…"

"It's okay." Bradley's voice is still very soft. "You're nervous, I get it. You don't have to be sorry."

"But I embarrassed you."

Bradley shakes his head. "You didn't. And even if you had, I promise you I've been in worse situations."

"Like what?" You regret the words the second they come out of your mouth. Don't ask him about embarrassing situations, you idiot!

But, judging by the grin on his face, Bradley doesn't seem to mind.

"Well, there was this one time at The Hard Deck…"

At first, you're not really listening, mostly because you're still trying to shake off your embarrassment, but you soon get drawn in to the story, and by the time Bradley finishes, you're feeling much more at ease.

"Okay, here are your meals."

You feel yet another stab of fear. What if I make a mess? What if the texture of the food makes me throw up everywhere?

But you manage a small smile as the server hands you your meal.

You're both silent as you eat, you because you're trying not to spill everywhere, and Bradley - well, you're not really sure. Maybe he's not the type to talk while eating.

But then why did he suggest a restaurant for our date?

Fortunately, Bradley seems to understand that you're nervous, and doesn't push you to speak too much. You do notice him glancing at you several times, and you feel guilty for not being more chatty, but it feels like there's a massive barrier between your brain and your vocal cords, one that you just can't face pushing through.

"How's your dinner?" he asks.

You look up. "It's good, I guess."

He raises his eyebrows. "You sure?"

You nod. "Um - how's yours?"

He smiles. "It's good. What're you thinking for dessert?"

Oh, no.

It's not that you don't like sweet things. Or that you're dieting. You just don't want to risk making yet another mess. You've already dropped some food onto the floor, and you only just managed to fight your gag reflex when you accidentally chewed a piece of food too long.

"Um, I'm kind of full."

"Yeah, me too. They're pretty generous with the portions here." He must have noticed that you're feeling uncomfortable, because he adds softly, "Do you want to leave?"

You nod.

"Okay."

After he's signalled to the server that you're ready to pay, Bradley tells you that he's going to pay.

You don't feel entirely comfortable with him paying the entire bill, but before you can protest, he's already paid.

You wobble as you stand up, and Bradley hastily takes hold of your arm before you can fall.

"I'm never wearing heels again," you mumble.

He just smiles. "You're not used to them, I take it?"

You shake your head. "I don't really go out much. In fancy stuff, I mean." Or at all.

Just like on the way there, you're silent on the way back.

You've got a horrible feeling that you messed up, and now Bradley's angry with you. What if he wanted dessert? What if he wanted to stay longer? What if-

Before you know it, Bradley's pulling up outside your house.

"I'll get your door for you," he tells you.

As Bradley goes to get out of the car, you stop him.

"Um - look, I'm sorry I wasn't very chatty this evening. I just - sorry…"

"That's okay," he replies. "It's not your fault for being shy."

You shake your head. "I'm not just shy. I'm - look, I know I've been difficult pretty much the entire evening. And - I wish I could do something about it, but I can't, and-"

"Hey, what's all this about?" Bradley looks genuinely puzzled. "You weren't difficult."

"I was."

"How?"

You feel tears welling up, and you desperately try to force them back. "I didn't talk for most of the evening, I was messy with my food, and I was rude to a server. And now I've ruined your evening. I'm - I'm sorry."

Bradley doesn't reply immediately, and for one horrible moment, you wonder if he's angry with you.

You don't even realise you're picking at your hands, until Bradley takes your hands in his.

"Y/N," he begins softly. "You don't have to look at me, but please hear me out. You were not being difficult. That incident with the server was not your fault. If anything, it's on me. I should've made sure you were ready to order before the server came over."

You feel a couple of tears roll down your cheeks, whether from relief or something else, you're not really sure.

Bradley gently brushes them away. "I know you didn't talk much, but - I don't mind that. I know not everybody's a talker, and I'm fine with you using other ways to communicate if that makes you feel more comfortable. And I certainly don't mind if you're a messy eater. You don't have to look perfect, okay?"

You suddenly feel light, like a heavy weight's just been lifted off your shoulders. He's not mad?

"But it can't have been a fun evening for you."

Bradley's eyebrows pinch together. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I just-" You pause, taking a breath. "I just - I feel like I have this bad effect on people - like I just jinx a night out and make it awkward and horrible when it doesn't have to be, because I'm just so socially inept."

"Oh, sweetheart. How often do you feel like that?"

You hang your head, trying hard to hide your tears. "Every day."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard."

You nod, almost wishing he wouldn't be so nice about it. It's hard enough trying to keep yourself together around people who don't really care, but it's nearly impossible around someone who does.

"Do you ever feel like that with Callie?" asks Bradley.

You shake your head. "She's the exception. We've known each other all our lives, so…"

"That's good."

You're both silent for a while. Bradley's started gently tracing patterns on your hands, which you're actually enjoying the feeling of.

"You know," he says, "tonight wasn't too bad."

"You think so?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I enjoyed your company. If it's okay with you, I'd like us to meet up again some time."

"For a date?"

"Only if you're comfortable with that."

You manage a small smile. "Okay. I - I'd like that. But - can we not do it in public?"

"Of course." Bradley gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "If that's going to make you feel more comfortable, then I'm fine with it."

You nod. "Thanks. You're - you're very kind."

"I try." He goes to open his door, but then stops. "You okay walking in those?"

That's when you suddenly remember you're wearing heels. Blushing, you shake your head. "I'll probably fall over."

"You want me to carry you?"

You shake your head again. "I'll just take them off."

He frowns. "I noticed some broken glass on the ground earlier. I don't want you stepping on it and hurting yourself."

Despite yourself, you giggle. "I guess you'll have to carry me, then." Not that I'm complaining.

Bradley just smiles and pats your arm, before getting out. "I'll get your door for you."

While he's going around the car to open your door, you arrange your handbag in your lap so that you'll be able to reach your keys easily. You haven't been carried in a long time, so you're a little nervous about how it might feel.

Bradley must have noticed that you're nervous, because he's very gentle as he lifts you, and makes sure you're completely comfortable before he starts walking. You're surprised at how easily he carries you, like you weigh nothing - and how safe you feel in his arms.

He doesn't seem to want to let you go. Even once he's right outside your front door, he still doesn't set you down.

"Um - I should be okay from here," you begin, rather nervously.

"I know," says Bradley. "But I was actually thinking it might be safer if I get you settled on your sofa, so you can get those shoes off, before you start walking. I don't have to if you're not comfortable with me being in your house, though."

That actually makes sense. "No, that's - that's fine."

It only seems to take a few seconds before Bradley has you in your house, and settled on the sofa. You take your shoes off with a sigh of relief.

"I am never wearing heels again."

Bradley chuckles. "You really hate those shoes, huh?"

You smile. "I guess so. I would get rid of them, but someone bought them for me, so it just wouldn't feel right to give them away, you know?"

"Yeah. I get that."

You stand up. "Um - Bradley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being so kind."

He shakes his head. "It's nothing. I'm just glad you had a good time."

You nod, suddenly feeling rather shy. "Yeah. Um - see you."

Bradley smiles. "See you around."

Once he's gone, and you've locked the door, you go upstairs, and collapse on your bed with a sigh.

Can I be bothered to change into my pajamas?

You're replied by the seam digging into your back. Yes, I can.

***************************************************

Once you're back in bed, you curl up, preparing to do some scrolling. It's been a long day, and you need some headspace.

It's a relief to be back in your normal clothes once again. That dress was not very comfortable.

Your phone buzzes.

It's a message from Callie.

You home yet?

You type a reply. Yes.

How'd it go?

You pause, thinking out an answer. Was okay. Bradley was really nice. He offered to take me out again.

Take him up on it.

I already did.

Good. You know, I thought you'd get on well. He's a bit more mature than the guys our age.

You frown. How old is he?

He's in his thirties, I think.

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. Thirties?! Callie! Why didn't you tell me?

I did.

I didn't see it.

You hastily scroll back through your messages.

Oh, nevermind. You did. Sorry.

Told you. And he's not ancient, Y/N. He's in his early thirties.

But - his thirties! I'm practically a kid compared to him!

You're not. I'm the same age as you, I'm friends with him, and you're more mature than me.

I guess we are both adults. But still… Did you tell him?

Tell him what?

That I'm younger than him.

Of course. And he's a good guy, Y/N. He'd have never asked you out on a second date if he wasn't comfortable with the age gap.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Good to know. Oh, we're still meeting up for drinks on Tuesday, right?

Yep.

Okay. Bye.

Byee.

Well, that was unexpected, you think, putting your phone aside.

But you don't really mind the age gap. So long as Bradley's okay with it - which he seems to be - then you are, too.

Plus, it would explain why you actually enjoyed tonight. You've been on dates before with guys your age, but you've never really enjoyed them.

For one thing, none of them have ever been as nice as Bradley, and for another, they've always wanted you to come back to their place…

Another message from Callie pops up.

Oh, hey, forgot to tell you I gave Bradley your number.

You groan. Callie is enjoying herself way too much.

He said he'd message you tomorrow.

Why tomorrow?

There's a bit of a pause before Callie replies.

He says he noticed you were tired out, and he doesn't want to bother you until you've rested.

You feel your throat getting a little tight. That's so sweet.

Told you he was nice. I'm telling you, Y/N, he's a keeper.

Callie, we've only been on one date - and even that wasn't really a date.

Close enough.

You grin. I'm going to bed now. See you Tuesday.

Byee.

Putting your phone on silent, and setting it aside, you roll over, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe things are starting to look up.

************************************************

Ever since transferring permanently in San Diego three years ago, the squad had known you as this unshakable force. And despite what people may have thought of you at first glance, everyone had quickly learned you were a leviathan, a force of nature not to be messed with. But that is what the Navy commanded of you, you thought. Nothing more or less than the resilient fighter pilot you were trained to be.

No one questioned your skills anymore, if anyone even had doubts to begin with. After countless missions where you’d been team captain and had led your squad to success without a single mistake or casualties, not even a scratch on your radome, there wasn’t much anyone could still say to you.

It had taken you some time to be comfortable around the squad, who you quickly learned was a true family, in the air and on the ground. It had been hard to leave the pilot persona behind and learn to just… be yourself around them, simply exist outside of the harsh environment of the base.

They were surprised but nonetheless pleased to discover the warmth behind your usually cold facade. Seeing you on base and ten minutes later at the Hard Deck was like seeing two different person who shared the same face. Mickey always joked that you had an evil personality that’d possess you every time you set foot on base and wouldn’t exorcise out of your body until you were at least fifty feet away from military ground.

So naturally, the news of you and Bradley dating shook the squad to their very core.

“What the actual fuck ?” Mickey had nearly shouted, startling half the Hard Deck and getting questioning looks when you had casually said you’d be going home with Bradley after training on Friday, for date night.

“Jesus, lower your voice,” Bradley chuckled while sending apologetic smiles to a few people who were still eyeing you suspiciously.

“What do you mean ‘lower my voice’ ? Are we not even gonna comment what she just said ?” He countered, pointing a somehow accusing finger at you.

You simply quirked a brow at Mickey’s outburst, he tended to be dramatic so his reaction wasn’t much indication to you. But a quick look at the rest of your friends made you realize that for once, maybe he wasn’t exaggerating.

Natasha’s jaw was hanging open in the most fish out of the water expression you’d ever seen.

Jake’s eyes kept flicking between you and Bradley, seemingly trying to coincide two realities that in his mind just couldn’t coexist due to metaphysics or otherworldly laws of some kind.

Bob simply pushed up his glasses on his nose, offering you a small smile, perhaps trying to show some warmth in the midst of the shock shell expressions your friends were harboring.

And you saw Javy, visibly confused, leaning towards Reuben and whisper a quick “did she just say ‘date night’ ?”, to which Reuben slowly nodded, like the information hadn’t totally registered in his brain either.

“Oh my god,” you let out in a small laugh, sharing a look with Bradley who seemed just as amused as you, “did you not know ?”

“Know what ? Please be precise, I cannot handle much more of this right now,” Mickey hissed, closing his eyes for a second, as if looking for peace.

“We’re dating,” Bradley said, opting for casual but the smile threatening to stretch his lips and the proud glint in his eyes clearly betrayed his intention.

“I thought it was obvious,” you added a bit sheepishly.

“Obvious ??” Natasha finally got out of her stupor, seeming deeply offended by your remark, “Y/N, I’ve never even seen you smile at the guy !”

Jake nodded vigorously at her words, “and never have I heard you call him anything other than his call sign, what kind of relationship is this ?”

“You guys look like everything, and I’m being so serious when I say that, everything but a couple.” Mickey argued, way too invested into whatever this matter qualified as.

“I mean,” you shrugged, “we do keep it professional on base.”

“That’s one way to put it…” Jake muttered out, barely audible.

“How long have you been dating ?” Bob questioned, an earnest look on his face.

You took a minute to think, turning to Bradley for help but the answer was already on the tip of his tongue.

“Two months tomorrow.”

The certainty in his voice left no room for debate as you eagerly nodded, smiling brightly at him.

“Yeah that’s it.”

“Oh he is whipped.” Natasha whispered to Jake.

To which he scrunched his nose in repulsion, “disgusting.”

From then on, the squad had been paying close attention, very close attention to the two of you.

And you were right, it was obvious. Painfully so. But not because of you, no, never.

You remained just as ever. Firm, commanding, cold blooded as much in the air as on the ground. Not sparing Bradley even just the smallest hint of affection. And while they knew of your feelings for him now, it was still hard to believe it by watching how you behaved.

Bradley, on the other hand…

It was like the man was incapable of wearing his heart anywhere else than out on his sleeve. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, gentle brown eyes holding nothing short of pure adoration as they gazed down at you. Obvious in the way he followed you around most times, sticking by your side at a reasonable distance, far enough to be professional but close enough that people were able to catch the hint of something more in the air. They had never once heard him disagree with you, or seen him be anything other than giddy whenever you were near him.

There was no doubt for any of them that Bradley was head over heels in love with you. And even that wasn’t cutting it.

And so had sparked a rumor. Upon seeing your singular dynamic in display, the squad had settled on the idea that you must had been ruling this relationship like you already ran everything on base. There was no other tangible possibility in their mind.

“She walks him like a fucking dog,” Jake muttered out, eyes trained on you and Bradley at the bar, who was insisting on carrying all the drinks back to your table on his own.

“She so does.” Javy agreed, snickering.

“I think they are cute together,” Bob jumped in, ever the joyful and sweet voice amidst chaos.

“Do you think she doms him in bed ?” Jake suddenly asked, turning back to the squad to get answers.

“What the fuck ?” Natasha interjected while Mickey and Reuben bursted out laughing. “In what world could you possibly think this is an appropriate question ?”

“What ? When you meet a couple do you never wonder what their sex life is like ?”

Natasha seemed absolutely bewildered and appalled now.

“Umm no ? I’m a normal person, so no, I don’t do this.”

“I’m with you,“ Mickey pointed to Jake, “I also do it.” He said easily, like admitting something as casual as what he had for breakfast this morning.

“Okay, is this a guy thing ? Cause it’s really fucking weird.”

“No, Phoenix, it’s a people thing,” Jake argued, “you’re the weird one for not doing it.”

She only rolled her eyes, opting to leave the conversation die as quickly as it had started, while she drank up another sip of her soon to be empty glass.

Silence fell upon the table for a few seconds, and she was about to propose a lighthearted drinking game when—

“He probably gets pegged.”

The roar of laughter that came out of Reuben, Mickey and Javy got half the bar turning heads to the squad’s table, sending mean and questioning looks their way.

“Ew Jake, seriously what is your problem ?!” Natasha hissed while clapping Bob, who had choked on his saliva as soon as the question left Jake’s mouth, on the back.

“What are you guys talking about ?” You excitedly asked when you came back to the table, having heard the commotion that your friends had caused.

Bradley handed all the drinks and wordlessly pulled out your chair, inviting you to sit. Jake’s smirk widened as Natasha sent him a deadly stare. Anyone in their right mind probably would have shut their mouth.

“We were just talking about you two actually,” Jake smiled, uncharacteristically sweet.

Bradley froze for a second, sending him a puzzled stare, as if he had sensed that Jake talking about his relationship could only mean trouble.

“Ohhh, what about us ?” You asked, giggling obliviously.

Reuben, Mickey and Javy were exchanging knowing glances, the quirks up of their lips, an obvious attempt of restraint from laughing, was only furthermore worrying Bradley.

A mischievous glint was shining in Jake’s green eyes when he finally spoke, “which one of you dominates the other in bed ?”

A little shocked sound got caught in your throat as your eyes bulged out of their socket. Bradley only rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh like this was to be expected.

“Do you have nothing better to do than gossip about our sex life ?”

Jake dramatically pointed to the pool tables and the dart boards which were all occupied, “no, I literally have nothing better to do right now. Answer the question.”

“How about that’s none of your fucking business ?”

“Why are you even wondering about that ?” You questioned in a strained voice, once you had recovered from your initial shock, your cheeks taking on the slightest pink shade.

“To be fair,” Javy started, and you knew that nothing even remotely fair was about to come out of his mouth, “your dating dynamic is quite interesting, so you know… I guess there’s bound to be some questions about you two.”

“And… what are your takes then ?” You found yourself asking, curious despite the fluster and embarrassment you felt about your squad mates theorizing on such an intimate part of your life.

Bradley’s head whipped towards you so hard he almost gave himself whiplash, “sweetheart, you’re not seriously entertaining this, are you ?”

“Well I’m kinda curious now,” you admitted with a sheepish smile, a hand squeezing his forearm affectionately, “but if you’re uncomfortable they don’t have to—“

“No, don’t worry.” He said quickly, expression softening in seconds, “If you’re okay with it, I’m okay too.” Chuckling lightly, he placed a quick but soft kiss on your temple. “Alright,” he clapped his hands, convinced by nothing more than your sweet voice and gentle eyes, “what are your theories ? Entertain us.” He almost commanded, like a king asking his jesters to amuse him.

“I think Nitro is the dom.” Said Mickey, almost too quickly as soon as he heard the authorization from Bradley, “and you’re submissive, like as fuck.”

Your shock and surprise only had a few seconds to settle down onto your features that already Reuben was giving his opinion.

“Yeah, same. Rooster, sorry man, but you do everything she tells you to do and you say ‘yes ma’am’.”

A laugh escaped you then, turning to look at Bradley, you saw the faint hint of a smile pulling at his lips. And when he made brief eye contact with you, there was a flame of undeniable hunger burning in his dark brown irises that sent a delectable shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, I might add that your go to position is cowgirl so he’s at your mercy,” Javy added, a pensive look in his eyes like that was something he’d actually given time to have a deep ponder about.

“I mean, it does seem obvious that you might be more dominant, Y/N.” Bob added, voice soft and the smallest pink hue on his cheeks.

“Damn, so all of you think I get my shit absolutely rocked ?” Bradley huffed in a chuckle.

“Actually,” Jake intervened, a smirk on his face that usually stretched his lips whenever he wanted to rile up Bradley, “it’s funny that you phrase it like that because I do think she pegs you.”

Natasha let out a groan, putting her head in her hands.

“I beg of you, Hangman, stop saying that word.”

“He asked, I merely answered his question.”

But perhaps Bradley didn’t quite had the reaction Jake was hoping for. Arms crossed, biceps almost filling up the stretched out sleeves of his opened Hawaiian shirt, Bradley was staring down his squad mate with nothing short of a pleased smile.

“That’s pretty graphic,” he commented calmly, matter of factly.

Jake’s smirk faltered almost imperceptibly. He hadn’t exactly expected for him to react so… peacefully.

“Yeah, I can really picture it, you know.”

“Are you admitting you think about me naked ? I’m flattered, Hangman, truly.”

But Jake wasn’t one to give up easily.

“I mean, it’s more your girl that I imagine—“

“Watch it.” Bradley warned, tone suddenly firm, leaving no place for anyone to argue.

Satisfied, Jake raised his hands in mock defense, “didn’t mean to overstep.”

He absolutely did.

During this whole back and forth, your eyes had been fixed on Bradley. Watching him be so comfortable with the concept of all of your squad mates somehow thinking he was absolutely submitted to you, and him being ready to jump at your defense the second someone made too crude of a comment about you ? It made your stomach flutter and your thighs squeeze ever so slightly under the table. One of your hand went to squeeze his knee, in an attempt to signal him how this whole conversation had you feeling.

Eyes flicking over to yours, he smirked at the faraway look in your eyes and the red shade blooming from your neck up to your cheeks.

“Hey,” Bob grabbed everyone’s attention, “a pool table is free.”

“Thank fucking god.” Jake sighed out, immediately getting up and rushing to the table before anyone else could claim it.

“Hey, we’re actually gonna head out,” Bradley called out, his gaze staying locked on yours a few more seconds while his heard turned towards the squad, before inevitably breaking eye contact.

Natasha uttered a chuckle for the first time all night, “yeah, you do that, have fun !”

The rest of the squad joined Jake to the pool table. Picking up a cue stick, Mickey watched Bradley leading you out the door, a protective hand on your lower back.

“You think maybe we got it all wrong ?”

Reuben frowned as he watched Jake break the balls.

“What are you talking about ?”

“Rooster and Nitro.”

Natasha’s arms raised and fell back against her sides with a dull thud, her expression a mix of exasperation and incredulity.

“Your obsession with them is getting seriously concerning.”

“Hear me out,” Mickey began, completely ignoring her, “you know how those dudes that simply smile when you tell them they have a small dick have like, the biggest one ? And those who get all angry are the ones who actually got a small dick ?”

“Where are you going with this ?” Javy chuckled, deeply confused.

“Well, Rooster seemed awfully unbothered, no ? So what if he was so calm because he’s actually the dom ?”

“Why are we still making conspiracy theories about this ?” Natasha questioned, still baffled by how much importance her squad mates seemed to hold for your intimate life.

“Rooster ?” Jake scoffed, once again completely ignoring Natasha while sinking two striped balls at once, “yeah, no way.”

As soon as the door slammed close behind you, your mouth was on Bradley’s. Eager and heated, your lips were almost feverishly moving against his, and he let out a pleased hum into the kiss.

“Is that our friends speculating about our sex life that got you this worked up, sweetheart ?” He whispered, voice low again your mouth, tongue poking out to slightly lick the corner of your lips.

Letting out a small whine, you chased his mouth, “I don’t know…” you muttered between kisses, cheeks glowing red at the thought of even admitting such a thing to him.

“You don’t know, huh ?” He smirked, lips tracing a path from your mouth down to your neck.

The faint scratch of his mustache on your skin was raising goosebumps in its wake as you gripped his shoulders, a soft moan slipping out of your mouth.

One of Bradley’s knees slid in between your legs, carefully applying pressure on your clothed core. Instinctively, you started to grind down on it. Very little back and forth movements that felt like heaven on your already wet pussy.

“Yeah… just like that, baby.” He praised, hands on your hips, helping you. “That pussy must be dripping for me, hm ?”

“Y—Yeah, fuck… ‘m so wet for you, Bradley…” you whined as your hips picked up the pace a little.

He nibbled the thin skin of your neck, immediately soothing the graze of his teeth with a languid pass of his tongue. The sensation was only adding to the delicious glide of your covered clit on his strong and steady thigh.

“It’s okay if the conversation at the Hard Deck turned you on…” he cooed, “it turned me on.”

Your hips stuttered slightly at his words, eyes widening. Bradley lifted his head from the crook of your neck, half lidded eyes, darken from lust, boring straight into yours.

“Really ?” You asked in a breathless voice.

Briefly, his gaze went down to your lips.

“Yeah.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss you eagerly retuned, your arms coming around his waist to bring him impossibly closer to you, almost trying to morph your two bodies together.

His tongue briefly caressed your bottom lip, to which you slightly opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to explore you, tangling with yours. And you let out a drawn out moan into his mouth when he pressed you down on his thigh and clenched his muscles.

“Yeah,” he repeated when he pulled away from you, voice hoarse and lips glistening with both of your spit, “I like that I’m the only one who knows how good my girl is for me. That’s what you are, isn’t ?”

Nodding hastily, you let out a cry when your clit caught just right on the seam of your jeans with a roll of your hips. You went to bury your face in his neck, but Bradley was quick to catch your chin, forcing your head back up and making you look at him.

“Say it for me, baby.”

“I’m—“ a pathetic little whine left your lips, “I’m your good girl.”

His lips stretched out in a proud smile, “yeah you are.” He cooed, pressing a kiss just under your ear.

Your hips sped up a bit as you felt your high approaching. His feverish kisses, his words, the delicious flex of his thigh under you had your head spinning.

“Bradley— fuck,” you cried out, “can I cum, please ?”

As soon as the question left your lips, he retracted his thigh, leaving the space between your legs empty. The ache in your engorged clit felt almost painful.

Whining out in pure desperation, you tightened your hold around his waist, refraining him from distancing himself further.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed you, big hands coming up to cup your cheeks and brush some of your hair back from your already sweaty forehead, “it’s alright, baby. I just think you deserve more than my thigh to cum, don’t you agree ?”

He could see your eyes illuminate as you eagerly nodded.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled, gently loosening the tight grip you had on his waist. “Get on the bed for me, sweetheart. Take your clothes off.”

Bradley didn’t think he had ever seen anyone get undressed that quickly. He watched you intensely, appreciative eyes raking over your uncovering form as he slowly unbuckled his belt.

You practically jumped on the bed once you were naked, sitting on the edge of it, your legs instinctively fell open for him, and he swore he saw you shiver when his belt hit the floor with a metal clink.

He made his way to the edge of the bed. Your pupils were blown wide and Bradley could see it even from this distance. Slowly, he got down on his knees as your eyes avidly took him in.

His lips traded little open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs and you could feel his smile on your skin.

“What’s so funny ?” You asked, voice strained, a bit worried he was laughing at you.

He looked up at you, “I wonder what the squad would think if they saw you like that, all spread out for me, listening to my every word…” he kissed the top of your twitching clit, “pussy fucking dripping just because I called you my good girl.”

Moaning out, you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Bradley… please.” You pleaded, the need burning in your core becoming physically unbearable.

“Who am I to refuse when you ask so sweetly like that ?” He cooed, affectionately squeezing your thighs as he settled them carefully on top of his shoulders.

In a way, the squad hadn’t been entirely wrong. Bradley was devoted to you, in every sense of the term. He listened to you diligently, obeyed your every word, pleased your every request, worshipped the ground you walked on…

But they all thought he did it all because you commanded it of him.

And in that way ? They couldn’t have been more wrong.

Looking at you, his mouth sucked on your clit once, “eyes on me, or I’ll stop.”

Oh, fuck.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Author’s note : just a little something short and fun to try and post more regularly ! This is not at all what I usually write, it’s almost all dialogues and very little description but I had a lot of fun writing it !!

I seriously not give enough love to my boy Bradley. Like everytime I get a fic idea for him i’m like ‘oh yeah but imagine that with Jake though’, and even in a Bradley fic he is omnipresent, sorry I’m obsessed with that guy.

Also I looove writing squad dynamics like that, I love them they are so fun !

I enjoyed trying out this new type of one shot so don’t hesitate to tell me if it sucked or if you’d like to see more !

First, there was the tedious and arduous task of looking for your little piece of paradise.

“Ugh, Bradley I physically cannot do this anymore !” You exclaimed, closing your laptop a little bit too forcefully.

Seated at the kitchen table, you put your head in your hands, closing your eyes for a second in an attempt to relieve them after looking for five hours straight at real estate listings. You let out a sigh as two big and warm hands settled on your shoulders, squeezing them affectionately.

“It’s okay sweetheart, just take a break, we’re not on the clock.” Came Bradley’s deep and soothing voice, as he continued to massage your shoulders lightly.

You let out a small delighted exhale at the feeling of his hands on you, already feeling the frustration seep out of you with each squeeze of his hands. You turned your head a bit, getting a glance of his soft eyes and warm smile.

“There you are,” he teased, “tell me honestly, how long have you been sitting here ?”

“I don’t have an exact number but definitely a few hours,” you answered thoughtfully, upon seeing the look on his face you were quick to explain yourself, “Bradley I just— I really want to find the perfect house for us.” You added a bit sheepishly. “I’m excited and I want it to happen fast.”

Bradley visibly melted at that, he pulled back a chair to sit next to you — his hands moving to cup your face, honey brown eyes sinking into yours.

“I know you are sweetheart, hell I’m just as excited,” he chuckled that last part, thumbs lovingly brushing your cheekbones. “But let’s try not to make it a big stressful thing yeah ? It’s a happy new chapter for us, don’t stress over it too much.”

“See the thing is, I think you’re not stressing enough.”

Bradley laughed at that, retracting his hands from your cheeks — much to your regret — and opened your laptop back up from where you had shut it a few minutes prior.

“Alright, would it calm Her Majesty’s nerves if we look together for a bit ?” Bradley asked, a teasing smile lifting the ends of his mustache.

You couldn’t help the sudden and deep rush of affection you felt towards him. You knew, despite what he was saying, that all of this upcoming change was as nerve wrecking as it was exciting for him as well. Both of you would spent hours going through every listing there was in San Diego, calling just to get told the house had been bought even though the ad was posted minutes ago…. Not to mention the grueling training days Bradley had been putting on base. Leaving your shared bed a little earlier each morning. So him deciding to spend that extra time looking with you even though he was already doing so much ? That was everything. You gently cupped his face and left a tender kiss on his lips, hoping to convey every bit of what you felt for him in it, you felt him smile beneath your lips before kissing you back just as sweetly.

“Yes, I’d like that very much, thank you.” You smiled when you pulled back.

His answer was to draw you back into a kiss, a hand gently cupping your cheek as the other snaked its way on your waist. Your lips falling into a well-practiced and familiar dance as your hands found the back of his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at his nape. Bradley made a low sound in his throat, and that’s when you knew it was time to pull back.

“Alright I think we were about to look at some more listings, yeah ?” You asked nonchalantly, trying to repress the smile that threatened to broke out.

You wish you would have been able to capture the look on Bradley’s face, a mix of deeply rooted offense and disbelief.

“Come on mustache man, we have work to do.” You pressed with a small laugh seeing as he was still frozen and looking at you.

“You never cease to amaze me, you know ? And right now I don’t know if I mean that in a bad way or a good way.” He just answered, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look at the laptop.

You just laughed some more as you brought your chair closer to him so you could look more clearly at the screen, and looped one arm through his.

“You still wanna buy a house with me though, right ?” You asked with fake seriousness, brows furrowed as you searched his face for any — fake — signs that he wasn’t as invested in this future project as you were.

“Well not gonna lie, I’m definitely reconsidering some life choices right now.” Bradley answered instantly, playing right into it.

You both broke out into giggles after you gazed too seriously into each other’s eyes for one second too long.

“Okay now for real,” you started after your giggles had died down a bit, “let’s find our dream house Bradshaw.”

He all but smiled at you, a dazzling one.

“Yes Ma’am.”

༄ ༄ ༄

“If we walk right through here, we’re gonna enter the kitchen area.” Kathy explained.

After witnessing how the house hunting was affecting you both, Bradley had made the very wise decision of approaching a real estate agency, so a realtor could do all the searching for you and all you’d have to do is visit the house. He finally decided on it one night when he came back late from base, and he found you still seated at the small kitchen table, head smashed on your laptop keyboard. You were snoring softly and drooling a little on the keys, Bradley concluded right then and there that this was becoming more nerve wracking and stress inducing than exciting. After looking at a few real estate agencies, he found Kathy. In her forties with twenty years of experience, she had been a breath of fresh air for you both, relieving you of the hellish task of scrutinizing every real estate website, at every time of the day, in case a new listing popped up.

But when Bradley had announced the news, your reaction wasn’t what he had expected.

“You did what Bradley ?” You breath hitched before you questioned him — tensed — your fork full of spaghetti pausing halfway to your mouth.

Your intonation had him doubt himself, this wasn’t good. He chose his next words very carefully.

“Um I— Well you know I went to a realtor, so we wouldn’t stress out looking at listings anymore…?” Bradley explained cautiously, not sure what had prompted the sudden edge in your tone.

His uncertainty and confusion seemed to light the fuse.

“Bradley I told you I didn’t want us to go through an agency !” You snapped, uncharacteristically harsh.

He was taken aback, where was this coming from ? Despite his deepening confusion, he kept his voice gentle and low, trying for a soothing tone in an attempt to not escalate the situation.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know you preferred to look for the listings yourself but I think we can both agree it was starting to be a bit too much for us, no ?”

“No it wasn’t ! Everything was perfectly fine, I specifically told you I didn’t want to go through an agency !” You argued, setting your fork down a bit more brutally than intended, feeling unexpected anger bubble up in your throat.

Bradley just stared at you for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line, knowing it was best not to add anything right now, even though he so desperately wanted to know where this sudden irritation was coming from.

“Do you need a moment ?” He finally asked softly after a beat of silence, not at all sounding upset with you, just offering you space.

Guilt seeped into your veins at his words — as the fight drained out of you at the same time, that’s what dating an emotionally mature man will do to you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You exhaled in one long breath, putting your hands in your head, ashamed at how quickly and frivolously you had snapped at him. In that moment you realized just how right he’d been, this whole house hunting obsession had definitely taken a toll on you, and not for the better.

“It’s okay,” Bradley calmly reassured, stretching out a hand, offering it for you to take if you wanted, which you gladly did, slipping your hand into his and squeezing once as an added, silent apology. “Do you wanna tell me why you’re so against going through an agency ?”

“I just really wanted the house to be ours, from start to finish. Wanted us to be the one to find it, and not have someone else look for our dream home.” And now that you were explaining it out loud, you just felt the crushing realization of how ridiculous it all was. “This is so fucking stupid.” You mumbled as you looked away, embarrassed by your outburst.

You heard Bradley chuckled and practically gave yourself whiplash turning your head back to look at him.

“I’m sorry, is my meltdown funny to you Bradshaw ?”

“It’s absolutely not, sorry baby,” he managed after his giggles died down, “it’s not stupid at all. It’s very endearing actually.” He tried to explain himself. “I love that you’re so invested in this and putting your whole heart into it, but I don’t think it’s worth losing sleep over. And trust me I totally get how you’re feeling, but having a realtor would be great. They would have all of our criteria and they know San Diego like the back of their hand, surely they would be able to find more than we ever could.”

Still offended by his sudden — and to you, completely unjustified — fit of laughing, you just hummed. Bradley stared at you, one eyebrow slightly raised, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m really sorry, baby. Anything I can do to earn your forgiveness ?” He asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You glared at him then — gears in your head turning as you searched for a proportionate punishment — when you caught sight of the spaghetti pot in the sink.

“Well there’s always the dishes you can do.” You smiled sweetly at him.

Bradley’s amused smirk only widened.

“Not gonna lie, that’s not exactly what I had in mind.” His voice dipped, sultry, as you felt his foot slightly drag up your leg under the table.

It was becoming harder and harder to contain your smile now.

“Oh yeah ?” You inquired, nudging him right back under the table.

“Yeah, something that could benefit the both of us, you know.” He continued, eyes already starting to have that familiar daze fall upon them. His foot was more daring now and kept going up a few more inches each time it dragged up.

You tried to hide the shiver that shook you, with no success as you saw Bradley playfully raise a brow and a pleased smirk tug at his lips.

His hand, which was still holding yours on the table, was warm and his thumb was gently caressing the back of your hand. You saw his face take on a more serious expression for a moment.

“I really am sorry, I knew how much finding the house yourself was important to you, I just thought it would relieve you a bit.” He explained, his voice unbelievably soft and gentle as his brown eyes filled with tenderness and something close to regret.

“I know baby,” you smiled back at him, your heart squeezing at how easily it was for him to recognize his faults and acknowledge your feelings. “And i’m sorry for how I reacted, you were right, this— this has been stressing me out, like a lot and I was so obsessed with the idea of finding the house ourselves I didn’t notice how much this was affecting me, and you.”

He just nodded along, eyes soft as he let you get everything off your chest, thumb still tenderly caressing the back of your hand.

“And I think you’re right, I think getting the help of a realtor would be great.” You conceded with a smile.

Bradley momentarily let go of your hand to stand up, go over to your side of the table, and bent down to leave the sweetest kiss on your lips, which you gladly returned as you placed a hand on his cheek. You felt him sigh happily into the kiss as you stood up so he didn’t have to bend at such an awkward angle. And as soon as you were on your own two feet, Bradley snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. When you pulled back to breathe, he was looking down at you with half lidded eyes.

“So do I take it I won’t have to do the dishes ?” He asked playfully.

“Oh you’re definitely doing the dishes Bradshaw,” you started, a smirk on your face as you took his hand and started walking towards your shared bedroom, “but first, you’re doing me.”

The smile on his face physically couldn’t have gotten any bigger if he tried.

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted you.

And that’s how you ended up visiting close to 5 houses per week, thanks to Kathy’s unrelented hard work. You were so thankful for her, she perfectly understood what you and Bradley were looking for and was dedicated to bring it to you.

“And if we walk right through here, we’re gonna enter the kitchen area.” Kathy explained, leading you into the room on your fifth visit of the week.

It was a rather huge space for a kitchen, unlike the rest of the house, it was entirely furnished. Oven, fridge, dishwasher and gorgeous wooden counters. It really looked beautiful, but still…

“Well sweetheart ?” Bradley prompted, lightly bumping his shoulders into yours. “What do you think ?”

“I— I don’t know, it’s beautiful don’t get me wrong,” you assured as you turned around to face Kathy who was just smiling patiently at you, “it’s just— I don’t really know…”

“It’s okay,” your realtor reassured, “You will know it right away when you visit the one, it’ll be like love at first sight.”

Bradley nudged your side playfully.

“Just like us.” He whispered flirtatiously to you.

You rolled your eyes, tongue in cheek as you slightly smacked his shoulder. Kathy hid a smile at your exchange just before her phone rang.

“Just excuse me a minute.” She apologized as she walked away, leaving you and Bradley alone in the kitchen.

He turned to face you then, eyes scanning your face.

“So this is not the one, huh ?”

“It’s beautiful, but yeah I can’t really explain it, I just don’t feel it,” you shrugged, struggling to put into words why you felt so indecisive about it. “What about you ? Do you like it ?” You asked, eager to have his opinion about it all.

His brown eyes took in the whole of the kitchen once more, walking up to the wooden counter, putting two hands on it and pushing down a bit, as if he was testing the sturdiness of it all.

“Well I reckon it’s solid enough that I could throw you on it, which is all I really ask of a house you know.”

You let out a little scandalous laugh, quickly checking that Kathy was indeed on the phone and out of earshot.

“You,” you started, pointing your index finger at him and taking a few steps towards him, “are incorruptible.”

Bradley all but lifted his hands in a display of faux innocence.

“You can’t blame a man for wanting to put all the materials in a house to good use.” He reasoned, a smile threatening to break out on his face.

And as he was about to pull in for what was sure to be a heated kiss, Kathy walked back in.

“Alright, should we keep going ?”

You heard Bradley grumble something behind you as you both followed your realtor, one of you more reluctant than the other.

It had been almost two months since you had started using the precious help of Kathy’s services, and still, you hadn’t find the place you so desperately wanted to call home. Unfortunately, the prospect of buying a house fell a bit in the background as life’s unexpected events were monopolizing the main stage, as they often do. A new project at work had you working late, and on a few week ends as well. At base, it wasn’t any better for Bradley. The squad was getting slammed with the humongous task of learning new maneuvers in the prospect of an upcoming mission.

So when one early Saturday morning, Kathy had excitedly called you to tell you about a house — a new one for which the ad had been posted mere minutes before her phone call — that was apparently perfect for you, in every sense of the term, and that you had to come visit it immediately, you almost politely refused. Not in the mood to check out a millionth house just to not feel the spark everyone kept talking about when walking in your dream house for the first time. But Bradley had insisted.

“Come on, it’s been quite some time since our last visit.” He reasoned with you, “I think this could be good, and who knows, maybe this will be the one ?” He asked wiggling his eyebrows — which you couldn’t help but laugh at.

After a few seconds of reflexion, weighting the pros and cons you eventually decided that you had nothing to lose and really there wasn’t any cons, except the severe lack of willpower that was melting you into the couch. You stood up from it, not without a sigh that could be attributed to an eighty years old woman who has seen too much.

“Okay, grab your keys chicken, we’re going.”

The drive to the address Kathy had texted you was a relatively short one from the military unit you currently lived in, which was already a good point because it meant it wasn’t far from base. It also was close to your job, closer than where you were as of today, which you took a mental note of. When Bradley parked in front of the house, you could feel the excitement rolling off him in waves, and it was contagious.

“Ohhh look at that sweetheart !” Bradley eagerly pointed to the small house. “It has a garage !”

You couldn’t help but break out into a huge smile, he was so cute like that. And when you took a look at the house for yourself, you understood his enthusiasm.

The house was in the corner of the street, adorned with a beautiful porch from which you could see the ocean in the distance, behind the neighbouring houses. And there was indeed a garage on the right side. The house looked small, smaller than what was in your criteria, but you trusted Kathy. Overall, it looked very cute. Bradley and you got out of the car, your realtor smiling brightly upon seeing Bradley open your door.

“Hello guys,” she greeted, all cheerful smile, “how are we feeling this morning ?”

“Good thank you, how about you ?” You returned her question, trying your best not to look as exhausted as you felt.

“Ohh I feel perfect ! I’m so happy you could come, because this house,” she pointed to it behind her, “is the one for you, I just know it.”

Bradley shared an amused look with you, which you returned.

“Alright Kathy, lead the way.” Bradley gestured for her to go first with a smile.

She beamed, literally beamed before leading you towards the front door.

“So first there is this beautiful porch, very cozy, you could even add some lanterns and a small couch,” she enthusiastically explained.

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as Bradley bumped your shoulder playfully, she was really into this. And for a moment you felt a rush of gratitude towards this woman who was so deeply and truly invested into finding your little corner of paradise on earth.

“Ready ?” Kathy excitedly ask, her hand on the doorknob.

“Ready as we’ll ever be.” Bradley smiled.

She pushed the door open, letting you both walk in first. The space you were met with was huge — much bigger than what it looked like from outside. It was unfurnished, except for the open kitchen which was adjoined to the bigger main space, divided by a low, partial wall. There were three big windows that let in the sun from the early morning, colouring the space in a beautiful gold like shade. And suddenly, as your eyes wandered around, taking it all in, you could picture it. Yes, you’d put the couch in the middle of the room, the TV stand backed against the wall, a small coffee table in between. You could see the slow mornings with Bradley, bundled up on the couch, you falling asleep on it waiting for him when he came back home late from base. Behind the couch, the dining table, it would be big enough so that you could host the whole squad for dinner. You could see Bradley and you preparing supper in the kitchen, while overseeing the squad laugh and converse from there. And on more quiet nights, you could picture Bradley and you dancing to music while stirring whatever he had decided to do that night, because in your years with him, one of the most wonderful discoveries had been how good of a chef he was.

It was clear as day, you could see it all so clearly. You felt Bradley come from behind you, his large arms coming to circle your waist and gently pulling you against his chest.

“Bradley,” you started in a breathy voice, overwhelmed with how clearly you could see your shared future in this house, but he cut you before you could say anything else.

“I know sweetheart,” he murmured against your ear — his mustache tickling you a bit — and you could feel the smile in his voice, “it feels perfect doesn’t it ?”

And that’s when you knew, he must have been picturing it as well, been the spectator of all those little imaginary moments, glimpses of what your life could be.

Kathy was eyeing you with a fond smile, seeing it in your face just how much you loved it.

“Should we continue to the bedroom ? It’s upstairs.” She beckoned.

Bradley let go of your waist, only to lovingly intertwined his fingers with yours before following the realtor up the stairs. It was a bit of a narrow staircase but you were quickly at the top. There was a a door right up the stairs and a small corridor that turned right, leading to what you could see was the bathroom and another door down the hall. Kathy walked through the first door, with you both hot on her heels.

“Here is the bedroom, very spacious, 269 square feet (25m2), you also have a spare room at the end of the hall, a bit smaller than this one, and oh just wait until you see the backyard !” She announced excitedly.

Like the main space — though here just shy of one — there were two windows that brought in a lot of light, sinking the room in a cozy gleam that felt like a warm embrace. It looked… perfect.

“I’m gonna give you two a moment,” Kathy smiled mischievously, “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

You heard her go back down the stairs hastily. And Bradley chuckled, turning his head from where he had watched her go down, back to you. He squeezed your hand once.

“Sweetheart, I love it.” He declared, all smiles.

You took a moment to look at him then. The light seeping in the room was making him look heavenly — even more so than usual — like it loved him as well. His sun bleached hair was shining in the golden haze, eyes crinkled as he looked down at you with nothing short of pure and unfiltered adoration. You let go of his hand to gently cup his face, fingers slightly tracing his scars on the way.

“I do too,” you agreed, a small smile on your lips and with — not shadow of a doubt — some heart in your eyes.

He bent down a little to place a tender and lingering kiss on the top of your cheekbone, close to your eye. You giggled slightly as his nose brushed your eyelashes.

“I can already imagine what our mornings are gonna look like in here.” He said, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah ?” You hummed, “and what’s that gonna be like ?”

His arms went around your waist — their favorite place to rest — as he swayed you both gently.

“So we’ll put the bed right there, in the middle, back up against the wall. We won’t close the blinds all the way so we’ll wake up with the sun’s light shining through, you’ll be wearing my Naval Academy t-shirt you love so much, panties, or not,” he winked, which you giggled at, “I’ll wake up before you, like I always do, leaving kisses on your neck, down to your shoulder, chest, stomach…” he explained as two of his fingers had started lightly tracing the path he was painting with his words. “Then maybe I’d spent an hour or two under the sheets, taking the time to greet you good morning, start the day the right way, you know ?”

“Bradshaw, what a way with words you have,” you praised, teasingly pretending to look away as if you were flustered, “That’s a real domestic fantasy you’re feeding me right there.”

“That’s what I do best.”

You both just smiled at each other for a minute, still swaying slightly, feeling as if you were floating away on the little picture of domestic bliss Bradley had painted for you.

You heard Kathy come back up the stairs before you saw her, Bradley turned his head towards the staircase in anticipation and smiled when he saw her.

“Where do we sign ?”

You had thought that finding your dream house would be the hardest part, the hours of scouting listings and ads, the constant disappointment after visits…. But to yours and Bradley’s horror, something much worse came after the relief of stumbling upon your future home, the paperwork. And God was there loads of it.

It was much more stressful and anxiety inducing than the house searching ever was. Getting your offer accepted by the seller, getting all the papers you needed from the bank, having a professional come to the house for an inspection and make sure everything — electricity, piping systems, all of it — was up to norms before you put everything you had into this.

Getting all the right papers in time was straight up a pain in the ass, but it was worth it. You’d never forget Kathy, beaming at you as she handed you and Bradley the keys in the lawyer’s office, after you had signed the final paper.

That was it, finally, the house was well and truly yours.

༄ ༄ ༄

“Okay people listen up,” Jake announced with an overly serious voice, clapping twice in his hands to catch everyone’s attention, and standing like a colonel in front of the group, “we’re gonna divide into three groups. One group will take care of the kitchen area, another the living room, and finally the bedroom. Now, I suggest we leave that one to the happy couple because I am honestly a little terrified of what we could find in these boxes.”

“Fucking gross, Hangman.” Bradley mumbled.

“Just speaking the truth, chicken.”

“Hangman why the fuck do you always have to take the lead on literally everything ?” Natasha questioned, already exasperated with him, “it’s their move in day !” She exclaimed pointing to you and Bradley to emphasise her point, “let them decide how they want to do it.”

“Can’t do Phoenix, if we wanna be efficient we have to do it the Hangman way.” He smirked at her and Natasha was seconds away from slapping it off his face.

Before she could fire up whatever answer she had already loaded, you spoke up.

“As co-owner of the house, I think I can have the last word.”

Penny and Maverick — who were busy unloading the moving truck with the help of Javy, Reuben and Mickey, who were inside the truck and passing the boxes over to the older couple — chuckled lightly at your antics.

Jake and Natasha awaited for you decision.

“Jake, I like your plan, we’re doing it.”

Jake fist bumped the air, and raised his hand to high five you.

“Knew you’d recognise greatness, sweetheart.” He told you with a smirk and a wink as you snickered and held up your palm to tap his.

“Watch it, Seresin.” Bradley dryly called out from where he had gone to help Penny and Maverick.

Jake only chuckled as he raised his hands in faux innocence and whistled lowly, backing away from you slowly.

“Ohhhh the chicken’s baring his fangs.” He mused, “calm down Roo, am I not allowed to praise our newest hostess ?”

“No.” Bradley simply answered.

You were about to stop Jake from throwing out another smug and provocative remark, but Penny beat you to it.

“Okay guys if we could maybe focus on the moving ? We have a home to furnish.”

You threw her a thankful smile as your searched for the keys.

“Alright everyone,” you called out to have all their attention — Reuben, Javy and Mickey stepping out of the truck to listen to you, “thank you for coming to help on such a special day, it really means a lot.” you were beaming, you didn’t even know how long you’d been waiting for this very day to come anymore. You made eye contact with Bradley who fondly smiled at you.

You turned the key, unlocking the door and pushing it open, gesturing for everyone to come in.

“Welcome to our house !”

Everyone clapped and cheered, Mickey put his hands around his mouth to make a “Woooh” sound, as Bradley walked to stand beside you, planting a sweet kiss to the side of your head. They all started to walk in, congratulating you as they walked past.

Jake just clapped Bradley on the shoulder, brotherly affection shining through the bravado for a second, Natasha gave you a side hug and high-fived Bradley while Bob was all soft smiles and soft felicitations and even shook Bradley’s hand — which you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at. Reuben, Javy and Mickey walked in together, all loud cheerfulness and praise, looking even more excited than you were.

Penny walked in with Maverick, embracing you warmly.

“I’m so, so happy for you, sweetheart,” she told you, as Maverick gave Bradley an awkward hug and an even more awkward ‘proud of you, son’.

“Thanks Penny,” you smiled back, “we’re really happy too.”

She beamed and then looked over at Bradley, placing a motherly hand on his cheek, he leaned slightly into it before she took him in his arms as well. Maverick went over to your side to place an affectionate kiss on the top of your head.

“Congrats, kid.”

You smiled at him, heart completely melting at the older couple’s — who’d become your family just as much as it had been Bradley’s — support and love, you quickly hugged him before letting them walk in the house.

You turned to look at Bradley, extending out your hand for him to take.

“Shall we, Bradshaw ?”

“We shall.” He chuckled, taking your hand and walking in with you.

Like Jake had said, you and Bradley were taking care of your bedroom. Your bed had already been installed a few days ago, so you were unpacking all your clothes, your bedside table, your books—

When you heard a loud thump coming from downstairs and Jake’s voice echoing.

“Ow for fuck’s sake Mickey be careful !”

“You were the one who let it drop Jake !”

Bradley shot you an exasperated look while sighing loudly, making his way to the staircase so he could check on whatever was happening downstairs and keep the squad from tearing his freshly bought house apart. But as he reached the top of the stairs, Penny was quick to appear at the bottom.

“Don’t come down Bradley, everything is under control I promise ! Let me take care of it.”

“You sure ?” He chuckled.

“Yes I am, please don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He conceded, already walking back to the bedroom and towards you, shaking his head with a playful disapproval face.

Hours passed and everything seemed to go smoothly, no one dropped anything again. Fatigue was starting to seep into everyone’s bones as the late afternoon sun was beginning its decline to the west, already planting the sky in shades of orange and red.

And despite the group’s humongous work, most of the living room was still empty, with half opened boxes all round. Only the couch and the TV had been installed, which Jake had insisted were the most important things. Natasha and Bob let themselves fall with a sigh on your small couch, quickly followed by Javy, Mickey and Reuben, who were all squished together and somehow dwarfing your couch.

“How nice of you all to have kept a seat for me,” Jake sarcastically said when he walked in from the backyard — where Maverick was setting up the barbecue he had so kindly gifted you and Bradley — and seeing his squad mates taking up all the space.

“You snooze you lose, Hangman.” Retorted Natasha.

He scoffed, falsely offended.

“Okay sorry for being a Good Samaritan and helping an elderly set up for our dinner of tonight.”

“Hey !” Maverick called out from the backyard, but he was ignored.

“It’s okay,” Jake just shrugged, “I’ll find a seat.”

And without any ceremony, he fully slumped down on Bob, whose protest was instant.

“Ow Hangman what the hell ?! Get off me !” He grunted, trying to get him off, unsuccessfully, “how can you be so heavy ?”

“That’s all muscle weight Bobby.” Jake grinned, settling down better on him.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching from the kitchen as you were preparing drinks and plates to bring outside, where Maverick had already got the barbecue going and had started grilling. Penny joined you, looking at them.

“God they are like children,” she laughed.

“I know right ?” You agreed, staking up the plates and cutlery on a tray.

“Amelia is sorry again she couldn’t come, but her best friend never would have forgiven her if she didn’t go to her birthday party.” Penny said while getting drinks from the fridge to help you.

“It’s okay Penny, we’re looking forward to have her over a next time, who knows, maybe she’ll be the first one to see the house all furnished.”

She smiled tenderly at you before her brows furrowed lightly, “where’s Bradley by the way ?”

“He’s upstairs in our room, said he wanted to keep setting up a few things before dinner.” You said as you took the glasses she handed you, and setting them on your tray, next to the plates.

Penny just hummed, a stack of different drinks in her hands as she then called out to the group.

“Alright, everyone outside ! It’s time for dinner.”

That’s what got Jake to finally get up from Bob who just muttered out a small ‘thank God’. They all made their way outside, but as you were holding up the tray you called out to Jake.

“Would you tell Bradley to come downstairs for me please ?”

He grinned, all teeth.

“Gladly, sweetheart.”

You thanked him as you went out the back door that led to the backyard. Jake made his way at the bottom of the stairs, and screamed at the top of his lungs — even though the stairs were short so really he could have spoken at a normal volume :

“Chicken, get your ass down here ! Time for dinner !”

Bradley — who was in your bedroom —nearly jumped out of his skin hearing Jake yell like that.

“Jesus fucking Christ Hangman !” He scolded, going over to the top of the stairs to look at Jake’s smug face. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Alright just hurry up we’re not gonna wait for you.” He said, leaving to join the others in the backyard.

“Yeah right,” Bradley scoffed to himself.

He looked one last time at what he had laid out for you on your bedside table. He had framed a picture of you two that Kathy had taken when you had signed the final paper. You were both in front of the house. You were holding the keys in your right hand, showing them proudly to the camera, a beautiful smile on your face that had broken out into giggles when Bradley had pressed his lips to your cheek right as Kathy had taken the photo. You were so beautiful, he found himself smiling again upon looking at it.

Next to the frame, he’d left a small envelope with a letter inside of it. One that contained all of the love he felt for you. The journey to getting this house hadn’t been easy. It hadn’t always been all sunrises and rainbows, but you had done it, together. And sometimes he felt his throat tighten up around all the words of gratitude, love and devotion he wanted to express to you.

After one last look at his little gift, he finally turned around and made his way downstairs, and as he was going down, he could hear the faint sound of laughing from the backyard, one that warmed his heart.

As soon as he got off the last step, one thing caught his eye. The wall in front of the stairs was decorated with a multitude of framed photos. You had told him earlier this afternoon that it was your plan to do it, but he had yet to see it. He got closer and took a moment to take a look at it, and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat when he finally got a good look at the pictures.

The first one he saw was the one with Maverick, at the end of the Uranium mission, surrounded by the whole carrier as they were beaming at each other, happy to be alive and knowing that Bradley’s resentment was behind them. A whole future ahead of them, a lifetime to catch up on.

The next one his eyes fell upon was one of your first picture together, on your fourth date. He couldn’t help but smile at how young you both looked. That was back when he’d been stationed in Oceana, Virginia, where you two had met. He’d taken you to a beautiful little restaurant, and afterwards you had taken a walk along the ocean. Bradley had stopped some people, despite your pleas not to, and had asked them to take a picture of both of you. Your backs were turned to the ocean, the sky behind you painted in shades of pink and oranges. Bradley’s arm around your waist, blinding smile on his face. Your head was pressed on his shoulder and you had casually rested your hand on his chest, which had ended up exactly over his heart.

The picture next to it made him huff a laugh. It was a picture of all the squad together, plus Maverick, at the Hard Deck. There had been so many nights like this one at the Hard Deck, he couldn’t even remember when that one was, Penny had probably taken the picture. Arm in arm, they were all smiles. Except Bradley, mouth slightly hanging open in offense as he was glaring at Jake — who was right next to him. Jake on the other end ? The bastard looked perfect, as usual, a charming smile on his face. He must have whispered some gag line to Bradley right as the picture was taken.

The last one his gaze turned to had his heart clench in his chest. Him, when he was a child, in his mother’s arms, who was looking at the camera with the brightest smile he’d ever seen. His father, holding her tight against him, looking down fondly at both of them. This photo had been taken — by Maverick he was sure — in San Diego when his mom was visiting his father at Top Gun, Bradley could recognise the outline of Miramar behind them. It’d been so long since he’d seen this picture, and knowing you put it up there ? If seeing the picture had his throat dangerously tightening up, that knowledge almost brought him to tears.

“Bradley ?” You called out to him from the backyard.

He turned his head to you, trying to swallow back the tears that were threatening to roll down his cheeks. You were looking at him expectantly, soft smile on your face.

“Are you coming ?” You asked, hand stretching out, waiting for him.

His eyes left yours momentarily to look at the scene that was playing out in front of him. Jake next to Maverick at the barbecue, trying to ask the seasoned pilot to make his steak ‘Texas style’, while Maverick looked absolutely done with it. Penny was showing very excited Reuben and Mickey how to make cocktails, on the small table not too far from the barbecue. Javy, Natasha and Bob were slouched on chairs, talking about their latest sim scores.

And there was you. Standing close to the door, hand still stretched out to him, the smile never leaving your face.

There were no words that would have been able to properly describe how he was feeling right now. But perhaps the closest thing to it would be saying that he’d never felt happier in his life than in this very moment.

He practically jogged up to you, suddenly impatient to touch you, be close to you. You giggled sweetly as you watched him eagerly take your hand to pull you into his arms.

“Hey there Lieutenant, I was starting to miss you.” You teased, throwing your arms around his neck and tenderly nudging your nose with his.

Bradley nudged you right back, just as gently.

“I love you,” he said in a whisper only meant for your ears, his kind, soft eyes diving into yours.

“And I love you,” you whispered back, melting.

That’s when it hit Bradley. Seeing you here, in his arms, where you had always been meant to be, surrounded by all the people he loved the most in the world — physically there or brought alive by memories on the wall, in the house you would build a future in, he knew it then.

He was home.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Author’s note : I felt like this fic was never ending omg, but I’m really proud of it, I hoped you enjoyed it !! I changed the direction in which I wanted it to go halfway through and I feel like I was dragging it a bit towards the end, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut anything out, so don’t hesitate to tell me if something shorter would have been preferable !

You don't see the step until you miss it, falling heavily to the ground.

Groaning softly, you roll over onto your back, trying to collect your thoughts. Your ankle's throbbing, and your hands are grazed, but fortunately, you don't feel any pain or swelling on your head.

Dragging yourself off the ground, you try and put some weight on your ankle. It hurts a lot, but it's not unbearable, and your ankle feels fairly stable, so you decide you'll just try and walk it off for now.

You're not going to tell anyone you're injured, of course.

Sure, the Dagger Squad all seem like nice people, for the most part (apart from Hangman, of course), but you don't know them that well, and you've no idea how they'll react to you being injured. You don't want to know how they'd react.

Especially Rooster.

You've been telling yourself for ages now that you do not have a crush on him. No, you just look up to him. After all, he's handsome, and nice, and you want to be friends with him. Just friends.

And you definitely do not have dreams about him taking care of you in this sort of situation. About him cuddling you while you cry on his shoulder. About him carrying you in his arms…

The thought of him finding you like this is enough to make you shudder.

What would he think of me? What would he say? Would he think I'm a weakling who can't take care of herself? Would he-

"Hey, C/S!"

You jump in fright at the sound of Bob's voice. "Oh! You scared me."

He gives you a funny look. "What are you doing hanging around the stairs? It's almost time for training."

"Oh, I - I must have lost track of time…" It's not a complete lie.

Bob doesn't look convinced. "I heard a crash a few minutes ago. Did you fall down the stairs?"

"No!" Seeing the look on Bob's face, you hastily amend your statement. "Well, yes. But I only grazed my hands. I'll be fine. Look, the skin isn't even broken."

You even hold out your hands for Bob to inspect, which he does with an extremely serious, focused look on his face.

Once he's satisfied that you're telling the truth, he lets your hands go. "Okay. Well, we'd better go to training."

You regretfully pull yourself away from the daydream you were having of Rooster inspecting your hands for grazes. "Oh. Yeah. Training. Right…"

"You sure you're okay?" asks Bob, as you walk down to the briefing room. "Sure you didn't hit your head or anything?"

"No. I - um - I guess falling down the stairs kind of rattled me. You know, it's just been so long since it last happened…"

You're still aimlessly rambling as you both enter the briefing room, but you fall silent the minute you notice Fanboy give you a funny look.

Looking around, you notice that most of the seats are taken.

Except for the one next to Rooster.

When he sees you, he smiles at you, and pats the seat next to him.

Blushing, you take it, sitting rather stiffly, partly because you're in such close proximity to him, and partly because your ankle really is throbbing now.

It seems like no time at all before you have to be back on your feet.

They're mixing things up a little, having the pilots choose different WSOs, presumably as some sort of teambuilding exercise (you weren't really paying attention).

You're disappointed that Rooster didn't pick you, but Payback beat him to it. And it's not as if he flies like Hangman. He's more inclined to go a bit slower, which suits you just fine, especially because you don't want to jar your ankle any more than necessary.

It's difficult to walk out to the hangar with your ankle feeling like it's going to buckle any second, but you somehow manage it, which makes you feel rather pleased with yourself.

You manage to get through training without telling anyone about your ankle. Of course, it helps that you've been sitting down most of the time, which gave you a chance to rest your ankle.

Unfortunately, you didn't realise that means your ankle's gone stiff. You very nearly fall when you get out of the plane, but Payback manages to catch you just in time.

"You okay, C/S?" he asks as he helps you stand.

You nod. "Just a bit stiff."

Payback doesn't look completely convinced, but he doesn't argue, fortunately.

Not that he would, anyway. You two aren't really close enough for that.

Neither are you and Rooster, as a matter of fact.

It's very difficult for you not to limp as you walk back to the building. Your ankle's getting more and more painful with every step, but you're determined to at least get through today.

Once you're in the briefing room, though, it's impossible to not let out a sigh of relief as you sit down, which prompts funny looks from the others, but you pretend not to notice.

"So, we're meeting at The Hard Deck tonight, then?" asks Phoenix.

She's answered by sounds of assent from the others.

You curse silently. You'd forgotten about the meet-up at the bar after work.

And you've already promised Bob that you'll be there tonight.

Wonderful. Just what I wanted.

It's not just because of your sprained ankle, though. You're already tired from work, and the last thing you need is more socialising in a noisy, crowded bar.

"Can't we do something different?" asks Hangman. "We're always at the bar."

Phoenix shrugs. "What were you thinking?"

"Dogfight football."

Fortunately, the protests at this shuts him up very quickly.

"Okay, okay!" Jake holds his hands up in surrender. "Geez…"

*****************************************************

Sighing, you collapse on your sofa almost immediately after entering your house. You're really not looking forward to tonight.

For one thing, you've still got to hide your injury. For another, you just don't like loud, rowdy places - like bars.

What if I just didn't go? you wonder suddenly. What if I stayed home and watched a movie or something?

At first, you try to dismiss the thought, but the more you think about what you'd do if you stayed home, the more you realise that you'd actually prefer to stay home.

So you end up deciding to stay home, and order some food.

Normally, the only time you have is when you're rushing around trying to get ready for work, so it's nice to finally be able to have some quality time with yourself.

By the time you finish dinner, you're pretty tired, and you don't want to risk falling asleep on the sofa, so you decide to skip on the movie, and just go straight to bed.

As you're getting ready for bed, you suddenly remember that you should probably ice your ankle, so after rummaging through the freezer to find something to wrap around your ankle, you go to bed.

But despite your exhaustion, it still takes you ages to fall asleep.

*****************************************************

The next morning, judging by the way the others are buzzing, it sounds like some crazy stuff went on at the bar yesterday, and you're very, very glad that you didn't go.

Rooster smiles when he sees you, and pats the seat next to him. "Hey, C/S."

As you sit down, you try desperately not to wince. The ice did help some, but your ankle's definitely feeling worse than yesterday.

"Missed you last night," says Rooster. "Were you okay?" Is it your imagination, or is his voice just a little softer than usual?

You nod, wishing your face wouldn't go so red. "Just - just tired."

Rooster doesn't look convinced, but nods.

He looks like he's about to say something else, but just then, Maverick calls for everyone's attention, and you've got no more time to chat.

"Well, as it so happens, Cyclone happened to be in a good mood today," he begins.

Oh no. Chills run over your body. You already know what Maverick's got in mind.

"So, since he's given everyone the afternoon off, I was thinking we play some dogfight football at the beach."

The room erupts into cheers.

Except for you.

You feel sick to your stomach. Sports were never really your thing, although you don't usually mind playing with the squad, but - you can't possibly play with an injury, and if you hide it, you won't be able to duck out of the match.

*****************************************************

What am I supposed to do? you wonder, as you try not to limp on your way to the beach.

Training's gone pretty badly. You were so distracted by your throbbing ankle, and trying to think of ways to get out of the game this afternoon that you ended up getting 'killed' at least twice (you lost count).

You were flying with Phoenix today, who isn't too impressed with you, but she's not as annoyed as you thought you'd be, although that might be because you didn't get 'killed' by Hangman.

But Phoenix's annoyance at you is the last thing on your mind.

Your ankle's feeling less and less stable the further you walk, and the pain's so bad that you're giving yourself a headache trying to bite back the groans and winces that you'd usually let out.

But you're still determined to not tell anyone.

You're not really sure why you're so bent on being independent. Maybe it stems back to the fact that you're autistic, and you've always felt like you've had to work twice as hard as your neurotypical peers to prove your worth…

Of course, it doesn't help that when you first applied to be a Naval aviator, the military didn't want to let you in, on account of you being autistic, and you had to fight to prove that you were worth taking on.

But your problems didn't end there. No, even while training to become an aviator, there was still the horrible cliquey situation that you thought you'd left behind in high school. All the other women seemed to know each other, and you didn't really feel comfortable trying to make friends with the men.

Except for Bob, of course. But then, you've both been friends since you were in high school. And Bob's always been a very kind, accepting person.

But you're not even going to tell him about your ankle. He's too conscientious to be able to help you hide an injury, and he'd have you in the sickbay in no time, which is the last thing you need when you're with the Dagger Squad

Everyone else seems happy and excited, pretty much the opposite of how you're feeling right now, and you really don't want to put a damper on their afternoon.

I wish I could just go home, you think. It's not like anyone would really miss me. And we'd be an odd number anyway, if Mav wanted to play.

You pause for a moment, turning the idea over in your head.

After all, why not? Why shouldn't I go home? It's my afternoon off. And anyway, what if my ankle played up, and they all noticed? Isn't that what I was worried about in the first place?

But I told Bob I'd be there.

You didn't promise.

Yeah, but bailing on him twice in two days? Isn't that a bit much?

*****************************************************

Hi, Bob. Sorry for the short notice, but I'm going to have to bail on the football game.

You pause for a moment, before hitting send. Well, no going back now.

Bob's reply comes up almost immediately. To Y/N: Oh, no. Why? Bob.

You manage a small smile as you reply. I'm just feeling kind of tired.

To Y/N: Do you want me to come over? Bob.

No, it's ok. I'll be fine by myself. Maybe tomorrow?

To Y/N: Okay. Hope you feel better soon. Bob.

Sighing, you put your phone aside, before immediately picking it up again so you can order some food. You feel bad bailing on Bob twice in quick succession, but you weren't lying. You are really tired, not least because of this stupid injury.

Maybe I'll take a sick day tomorrow, you wonder, before quickly dismissing the idea. You've only got a finite amount of sick leave, and you want to save it for - well, for a very rainy day, i.e. when you're really sick.

Which, if truth be told, hasn't happened this year. And you're past flu season, so…

There's a knock at the door.

You nearly jump out of your skin in fright, before groaning, and dragging yourself up to go and see who it is. It won't be the delivery guy, because you haven't even finished your order yet.

Your heart nearly stops when you open the door.

It's Rooster.

"Hey, C/S," he says. "Just came by to see how you're doing."

Him just being alone with you is enough to render your brain mush, and you have absolutely no idea how to reply, so you try stepping back as a way of inviting him in.

It's just bad luck that you completely forget about your ankle, which gives out beneath you, sending you to the floor.

Rooster catches you just in time.

Lifting you in his arms, he carries you to the living room, where he sets you down on the sofa.

"Where'd you hurt yourself?" he demands.

You stare at the floor. "My ankle," you whisper, wishing your cheeks wouldn't burn so much.

Very gently, Rooster takes your sock off. Judging by his soft gasp, he doesn't even need to touch your ankle to know that it's badly swollen.

"Is it broken or sprained?" he asks at last, his voice surprisingly thick.

"Sprained."

"Okay." Rooster takes a deep breath. "I'm gonna go get some ice for this. I'll only be a minute, so just stay put, okay?"

Once he's left the room, you scrub at your eyes, trying hard to keep the tears away. You expected him to yell at you for hiding an injury, but his quiet concern somehow makes you feel much, much worse.

And it doesn't help that your brain keeps replaying what happened over and over again.

That look on his face when you fell…

You don't even realise that you've started to cry until you feel a pair of strong arms around you, and a large hand cradling your head.

"Oh, sweetheart," murmurs Rooster. "I'm so sorry, I know it hurts…"

Sniffling, you lean into him as he strokes your hair, and murmurs sweet nothings in an attempt to calm you down. Despite how awkward you feel, you'd be lying if you said that a small part of you doesn't enjoy his fussing just a little bit.

It takes you a while to calm down, because every time your crying subsides, you see that look on Rooster's face again, and another wave of guilt washes over you, which makes you cry even more.

But once you're calm, you immediately pull away from him, feeling horribly embarrassed.

"Sorry," you mumble, staring at the floor once again.

"It's okay." Rooster moves to put the now partially melted ice pack on your ankle. "That better?"

You nod, feeling your throat go tight.

"Good."

There's a long, awkward silence. Not that you're complaining. You're still feeling a little fragile, and like you might cry any minute, so you don't really feel much like talking anyway.

"Hey, C/S?"

You look up.

"Do you - uh, need anything?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine. You should go back to the game."

Rooster shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you here."

"You should," you mumble.

"I don't want to leave you like this. You're tired, you're hurt, and you're in pain. Please let me help."

You can feel tears welling up again. "Okay," you whisper. "Thank you. And - I'm sorry about ruining your afternoon off."

"Don't be sorry." Rooster gives you a soft smile, although his eyes look suspiciously glassy. "I was worried about you, and this was the least I could do."

"You were worried?"

Rooster nods. "And it turns out I was right to be worried."

"What do you-"

Rooster suddenly takes your hand in his, holding it so tightly that you're worried he might break it. "You're very lucky that your ankle didn't give out when you were by yourself, and that you weren't more hurt when you fell. Please, never hide an injury like this again."

You nod. "Okay."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Rooster lets go of your hand, although the worried expression doesn't fully leave his face.

You take a deep breath, feeling you should probably turn the conversation in a different direction. "Um, I was just about to order some food. Do you want any?"

Rooster smiles, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Sure. But I'm paying."

You shake your head. "I'll pay. It's the least I can do."

Rooster looks like he's about to argue, but thinks better of it. "You sure you're comfortable?" he asks. "I could go and get you a blanket if you want…"

"A blanket sounds good," you say, smiling shyly. "Oh, and could you hand me the TV remote, please?"

Smiling, Rooster hands you the TV remote, before going upstairs.

You let out a soft sigh of relief as you relax into the sofa cushions, and turn on one of your favourite comfort shows. You're exhausted from today, so you decide to rest your eyes a bit.

Just for a few minutes…

*****************************************************

It seems like only a few seconds later when you suddenly wake up to feel Rooster tucking you into bed.

You let out a soft grunt. "Mm. What're you doing?"

Rooster smiles softly. "You fell asleep on the couch, sweetie. I figured you'd be more comfortable sleeping in bed. You still up for dinner?"

You shake your head. "Too tired. Can you just stay with me until I sleep?"

"Of course." Rooster's very gentle as he props your ankle up, and carefully wraps it in a fresh ice pack.

The slight shock from the cold wakes you up for a brief moment, but exhaustion soon takes over again, and you have to fight to try and keep your eyes open.

You feel the bed shift, and then Rooster's hand tenderly stroking your hair.

The last thing you remember before sinking into oblivion is his soft voice.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

****************************************************

Part 2

"Y/N, please," begs Nat. "It's going to be fun."

You've got a very different idea of fun to her, but you don't really want to say that.

"I know Bob can't go, but Coyote can. You know Coyote."

Yeah, but not well enough to be able to cling to him like a limpet.

For that matter, you don't really know Nat that well, either, but since she's Bob's friend, you feel a bit more comfortable around her than most strangers.

You've known Bob pretty much all your life. Your mums were friends, you two were friends in school, and even though you're not an aviator, you've always tended to stick around Bob.

He's the type who'll let you cling to him like a limpet in a social situation, but unfortunately, he's got a cold tonight, and can't go to the bar. You were fine with that, partly because it would give you an excuse to miss the Friday night torture get-together at The Hard Deck.

Nat means well, of course. She knows you're shy, and that you're pretty introverted, but she just doesn't seem to understand that your social battery isn't up to coping with strangers today, and that you'd rather take care of Bob than socialise with a load of strangers.

"Bob's not that sick, you know. He just doesn't want to spread it on to the rest of us."

"I know," you mutter. "I guess I'd just feel better if-"

Nat shakes her head. "You need to get out of your shell a bit, Y/N. You'll be fine, okay? It'll be fun."

Your brain is screaming at you. Don't do it, Y/N! Don't!

But you don't want to disappoint Nat, so you nod. "I guess so."

Nat smiles. "Great! We'll go to the bar in about forty-five minutes."

Wait, what?

But Nat's already let herself out before you can say anything.

This is not good.

The bar is so crowded that you're convinced there's more carbon dioxide than oxygen in the air - which could explain why you're finding it difficult to breathe.

It's so boiling hot that you're already sweating, and the noise is starting to get to you - already.

Nat doesn't seem to notice as she pulls you through the crowd, towards the pool table.

"Hey, Phoenix!" calls a guy - Coyote, you remember. You've met him a couple of times, and he's always been nice to you.

Coyote smiles when he sees you. "Hey, Y/N. How's it going?"

You want to reply, but your mouth's too dry, so you just nod, force a smile, and hope that he doesn't think you're being rude.

"Who's this?" Another guy's come up to Coyote.

Wait, is he talking to Coyote, or me? you wonder. You don't want to appear rude, but your mouth feels like sandpaper, and it's impossible to even try to form words, let alone say them.

To add to it all, your social battery is on the verge of dying, which has lowered your sensory tolerance considerably.

Fortunately, Nat comes to your rescue. "This is Y/N," she says. "Y/N, this is Bagman."

"Hangman," protests the other guy.

A few other aviators arrive, Nat makes some more introductions - and then abandons you to go and get some drinks for everyone.

Where am I supposed to go? you wonder.

Normally, you and Bob would sit in a little niche near the pool table. As luck would have it, that little niche is empty, but there are people blocking your way, who you'd have to push past to get there.

The bar's getting more and more crowded by the second. People are squeezed so close together that they're touching. You can feel strangers brushing past you as they go to get their drinks.

Normally, it would just annoy you, but tonight, you have to physically force yourself to hold it together every time you feel the light tickling touch of a stranger brushing past you.

Everything's becoming too much to handle. The noise, which bothered you even at first, is now a deafening roar that drowns out individual sounds, the smell of alcohol is giving you a headache, the lights are hurting your eyes…

You need out. Right now.

Somewhere over the roar, you hear a yell. "Bradshaw! Over here!"

In desperation, you clamp your hands over your ears. It helps a little, being able to block out most of the noise, but the light's still hurting your eyes, the smell of alcohol is still giving you a headache, and people are still touching you as they walk past.

Fortunately, you're still in the vicinity of Bob's friends, so you watch them to try and calm yourself.

You should go over and say hi, you know, you tell yourself.

But there are too many people blocking the way, and anyway, you're too shy to go over. The thing is, you can put a name to his face, but you've never actually been introduced.

Another person pushes past you, more roughly than the rest, which makes one of your hands slip off your ear.

All the noise comes pouring back in, and it's all you can do not to make a run for it.

You back into the wall, hands clamped over your ears again, looking desperately for an escape.

But the only way out is the door you came in, and that's blocked by loads of strangers, all so close together that you'd have to push past.

Your heart's pounding in your ears. You can still hear some of the roar, but at least it's somewhat muted now that your hands are blocking it. You shut your eyes, trying desperately to hold it together.

Then you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you open your eyes to see Bradley standing in front of you, looking worried.

You don't hear what he says, but you know it's something along the lines of, "Are you okay?"

You shake your head.

Bradley's face softens. He says something else, and then points to the door.

You nod, hoping he's asking if you want to leave.

Bradley wraps a protective arm around you as he walks you out. Somehow, he manages to shield you from being too jostled as he pushes through the crowd.

Once you're outside, Bradley takes you to a bench a little way outside the bar. Even with your hands over your ears, you notice how nice and quiet it is outside.

Slowly, you take your hands off your ears, before turning to Bradley, who's sitting next to you.

"You okay, sweetie?" he asks softly. "You seemed pretty overwhelmed back there."

You want to give him a rational answer, explain calmly and clearly that you're autistic, that it was sensory overload, and that you just need time to recharge.

But instead, you start to cry. Today's just been too much for you to handle, and now that you're suddenly in a safe space, you just can't keep it together.

"Hey, it's okay." Bradley puts his hand on your arm, gently stroking up and down. "You're safe."

You want to lean into his touch, and allow yourself to cry, but you suddenly realise just how awkward this situation must be for him. As soon as you realise, you try hard to choke back your sobs.

You idiot! you scream at yourself. You're crying in front of one of Bob's aviator friends. Do you know how humiliating this will be for him if he finds out? And how awkward this is for his other friends?

You're so busy berating yourself, and trying to choke back your sobs that you don't realise you've started picking at your hands. It's a habit you've gotten into, to try and stop yourself from getting emotional in public.

Bradley notices what you're doing. He doesn't say anything about it, but gently takes your hands in his.

"Do you need anything, sweetie?" he asks softly.

You bite your lip. What you really want is a hug, but when you try to speak, nothing comes out.

You've gone nonverbal.

This isn't the first time it's happened, but it's the first time it's happened in public without either your mum or Bob to help you.

You hastily dig in your pocket for your phone, before opening a text app, and typing something out before handing it to Bradley.

Bradley's face softens when he sees what you've typed.

Can I have a hug?

"Oh, sweetheart. Come here."

You shuffle closer to him on the bench, letting him wrap his arms around you, and hold you close.

It's been so long since you've had a proper hug that you've almost forgotten what it feels like. Some more tears trickle down your cheeks, but you let them fall this time.

It takes a while, but you do manage to calm down. Pulling away, you sniffle, wipe your eyes - and then a wave of embarrassment hits you.

I'm sorry that had to be so awkward for you, you type. Dragging you away from your friends and all. Please don't tell Bob - or the others. They'll probably never forgive me.

Bradley frowns, and shakes his head. "It's okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to help. And the others weren't mad at you, you know. They were just worried."

You sit in silence for a bit, wondering whether to go back in or not, before finally saying, "If you, um, if I go back in, can I - um - stay with you? Just, like, while we're in the bar?"

Bradley smiles. "That's fine." He pauses for a moment before adding, "You're Bob's friend, right?"

You nod. "My name's Y/N L/N."

"Mine's Bradley Bradshaw. My callsign's Rooster, but you can call me either."

You smile shyly. "Okay."

"You feel ready to go back in?" asks Bradley.

You nod. "Yeah, I guess…"

Bradley raises an eyebrow. "You sure? I don't want to force you."

"No, it's - it's fine. The 'I guess', is just kind of what I say, if you get what I mean."

"Right." Bradley stands up, and holds out a hand to help you up.

You take it, and stand up.

As you both head back to the bar, you suddenly realise that maybe the Friday night get-together at the bar didn't have to be torture.

After all, Bradley was kind to you, even though he only knew you through Bob, so maybe the others won't be so bad either.

You smile as you glance up at Bradley. You'd have never guessed that this evening, which started so badly, could get better just because of someone's kindness. It looks like being a good night after all.