upsidedownmvnson

You shrug.

You'd known Bradley for years. You both went to the same university, where you took medicine, becoming a doctor. You fell in love with him at school, but never tried anything, always thinking it was never the right time. But anytime you thought maybe you should move on, Bradley did something, just enough, to keep you hanging on.

Jake's eyes narrow over the ocean. He knows Bradley knows about your feelings. They've never talked about it, but how could Rooster not know.

Jake's been watching Rooster string you along for the better part of a year, and it makes him sick. How could Bradshaw just, waste away his time like that? The perfect woman, smart, funny, kind, beautiful. A fucking doctor for crying out loud - who better to be with a Navy man? Someone who understands that there's risks in life, someone that understands how precious time is.

"You should make him jealous," Jake finds himself saying, surprising both you and him.

"What?"

"You know," Jake continues, not sure where the words are coming from. "Make him jealous, make him make a move."

"Oh yeah? And how exactly would I do that? I've been on dates and he never cared, he's seen me kiss guys, and he just... he doesn't care, Jake. He doesn't want me."

Jake frowns. "I told you. He's an idiot."

"They offered me a job in Parkland Memorial Hospital in the emergency room."

Alarm bells ring in Jake's head. You can't be talking about... leaving? Leaving. Leaving!?

"I'm thinking about it - thinking space might do some good, I can finally, finally just... get over it."

"You can't just leave," Jake says, hand gripping the railing so hard one of his knuckles crack.

"I can't keep this cycle up, Jake." You look at him, his tense jaw, how his eyes stay focused at one point in the distance. There's no denying how beautiful Hangman is. Your eyes flit over to Rooster, who's pulling the girl closer. You look away before you have to see them kiss. "I'm tired."

"I'll help you," he says, and he's once again unsure where the words are coming from. But if making Rooster make a move is the only way Jake gets to keep you in his life, then he'll do it. He can't lose you. He won't. "And if it doesn't work in a month, I'm sure that job'll be there for you, or a better one."

You don't answer, and Jake takes that as a maybe.

Anything, anything would be better than you packing your bags.

The next day, you're sitting in your office on base, finishing sending in inventory for the medical supplies you need.

Not too much happens on base, anything really bad ends up sent to the hospital with you in the back of the ambulance providing care. It's not that exciting - which is good, exciting work for a doctor usually means someone is seriously injured.

But here you are, asking for more gauze and tape, and that's okay too.

A knock on the door followed by, "Hey doc," breaks you out of your trance, and Jake comes strolling in, small smile on his lips as he glides over, leaning on your desk beside you. "How are you feeling today?"

"Right as rain, Jake."

"Mmm," he mumbles, looking at the papers on your desk, before running his gaze over your face. He's noticed that your lips have been holding a soft pout for weeks, like you've given up on a dream. It makes his blood boil. He wants to fix it. He leans back a bit, arms crossed on one foot crossed over the other, and he keeps his eyes on you. "You think more about that job offer?"

You sigh, "No, not really. It's ... hard. I want to make the decision that's best for me and not base it off of Bradley." Your shoulders slouch, "but I - I just have no idea what to do. All my friends are here, I love my job."

"So stay," Jake says, "Don't run from where you are over Chicken."

For the first time, ever, you don't tell Jake not to call Bradley that. You just smile, finally looking up at Jake. He takes the moment head on, and leans towards you. One hand on your desk, the other on the back of your chair, legs spreading wide in a way that makes your breath hitch - but if Jake notices he doesn't comment on it.

"There are lots of things here that can make things better, you know."

You're so close to him.

You've never been this close to him.

No one ever understood the friendship you two have. Nat thought it was odd, the way that Jake seemed to gravitate towards you, always finding you a sea of people, like he was magnetically drawn to you. But he never made a move, never talked about you in ways he's talked about other women, never expected you to fall at his feet. And rarely ever laid down the moves he so easily threw at beautiful people. Nat noticed recently that Jake's been on a dry spell - and doing absolutely nothing to change it. Even when women threw themselves at him, he just smiled politely, and got you another drink.

Unfortunately, you saw this as platonic - how? No one knows. Everyone else can see it for what it is. Payback and Fanboy have a bet going about who confesses first, you to Bradley or Jake to you. Fanboy bet on you confessing, Payback on Jake. Coyote wants Jake to get the girl. Bob silently hopes you find a nice, stable man outside of the military because he adores you and doesn't think either Hangman or Bradley deserve you. While Natasha and Halo just want you to be happy.

"Jake, I..."

The door opens, and both of you snap your attention to the person, Bradley, obviously, walking in.

He hesitates, eyeing the closeness between you guys suspiciously.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

You say no the same time Jake says yes. And you both look at each other, smiling like you're sharing an inside joke.

"Did you need something, Rooster?" Jake asks, and you hit his chest playfully.

"Come in, Bradley. Everything okay?" You ask, pushing up from the desk and gliding around Jake's arm, which makes the chair roll back and he has to catch himself, praying you didn't see that.

"Yeah..." he starts, "I just have this... uh," Brad looks at Jake. "Can I maybe talk to you privately?"

"Of course," you nod, "Jake?"

"I'm going," he rolls his eyes. "Lunch?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

"I'll bring you something."

Jake smiles, winking at Bradley, who is still looking at you with confusion written over his expression.

When Jake leaves, Bradley's eyes trace over you - looking for something.

"What's wrong?" you ask, looking him over for injuries.

"It's nothing just... I have a really bad sunburn on my back is all, wanted something for it," he explains, and you move to the cabinets to get some cream for him.

"I should still look at it," you say, "take your shirt off."

As he does, he talks, "what was Jake in here for?"

"You can't ask me that. Turn around," you spin your fingers, and he obeys.

"Right, yeah," he mutters, "didn't really seem like a clinical thing though."

"Bradley, stop." You look over the burn, it's red sure, but doesn't really seem that bad. With gloves on, you rub some of the ointment over it. It should make you blush maybe, but this is your clinic, and your job, and you don't take the moment as anything more than what it is. Being a doctor. "Just put this on again before bed, and in the morning if you need it. If it doesn't go away, come back. But it looks fine."

Bradley nods, but doesn't move. Doesn't put his shirt back on.

"You didn't say goodbye last night."

"Huh?" you ask, "I didn't see you all night, I didn't think I had to."

"Oh, you don't, I guess, but..." he looks down, "you usually come say bye."

"Me and Jake head out early," you explain, shrugging, indignation rising in your chest. Who was he to complain? He was wrapped up in someone else anyway... were you meant to tap him on the shoulder and wait for their lips to break apart just so you could say goodbye to someone you hadn't even spoken to that night?

"Together?"

"Yeah, he wanted to make sure I got home, I had a bit more than normal." You move to your desk, filling out a sheet to add to Bradley's file. It doesn't really need a sunburn update, but you do it anyway, for something to do with your hands under Bradley's intense stare.

"Right, okay..."

"Is that okay?"

"Of course it is, I'm just... checking in on you, that's all." Bradley finally puts his shirt back on. "Do you, are you going to the gala next week?"

"Yes," you say, instantly, too instantly.

"Me too," he says, "I was thinking we could go together."

"Oh?" your hand stills, your heart races. Is... is he asking you out? Did Bradley Bradshaw fake the pain to come to your office? Is this really happening? All these years of pining, and yearning, are they ending? You almost say yes, but then he speaks again.

"We used to go to stuff like this as friends all the time, and I thought... It would be fun to do it again, is all, better than standing around alone. My date bailed when she saw me take home this girl last night - she was so pissed off, you should hear the voicemail she left."

Your heart shatters.

It's so loud and painful you're almost sure he can hear it.

"I already have a date."

You say it before you can think about it. It comes out in a snap and you can't take it back.

"Oh," is all he says.

"Yeah," you say, trying to find the excuse out of this, you land on, "Jake asked me to go with him."

"Hangman? You can't be serious." You can practically hear Bradley roll his eyes as you tuck the paper into his file.

"Why not?"

"He's... he's Hangman!" Bradley has never raised his voice to you before, and he doesn't yell, but the tone he uses is something you've never heard directed at you as he says, "you're going to be Hangman's date!?"

"What's so bizarre about that?" you ask, turning to face him finally.

"He's not good enough for you and you know that."

You both stare at each other, arms crossed, angry faces mirroring each other. This is as close as you've come to a fight, ever. Usually you would back down, but you're... offended, on Jake's behalf. Jake has always been a perfect gentleman to you, and a great friend. He's been an amazing friend to you, actually.

"Jake is wonderful. Now if you don't need anymore medical attention, I have work to do."

You answer leaves no room to argue. Bradley leaves - without saying goodbye, one might point out, and closing the door harder than he needs to, enough to make your shoulders flinch. His attitude left a bad taste in your mouth, and you don't like it at all.

Rooster comes back to the group hot headed and ready to blow.

The air is tense, made more tense every time Jake cracked a joke, or answered a question, or did anything.

When Mav leaves them for a moment to talk to Cyclone about something, Nat finally asks what the problem is.

"Ask Bagman," Rooster mutters, rolling his eyes.

Jake scowls, "Hey, what the hell did I do?"

"You're taking her to the gala?" Rooster crosses his arms, and pouts like a schoolboy. No one has to ask who he's talking about.

An easy grin lands on Jake's face, and it only irritates Rooster more. Jake, being the guy he is, goes along with it. He never actually asked you - but absolutely would love to have you on his arm for the night. So he's all too happy to play along. He's all too happy to be your date.

"And what's the problem?" is all Jake asks.

"You're my fucking problem!"

"Well," Jake shrugs, "you snooze, you lose, brother."

Rooster is quick to anger. And pushes Jake before the others can grab him. Jake just laughs, walking a few steps back and out of Rooster's reach.

"Don't get mad at me for wanting her," Jake says, and it's earnest, he means it, they all know he does. "You just don't want anyone else to have her in case you change your mind, and honestly, Chicken? That's so messed up."

"You don't know anything." Rooster pushes Fanboy off, but he stays close by, in case Rooster lunges again.

"I know that she is special, and I know that she deserves the world. And I know that you could never give that to her, so I will." Jake glares at Rooster. "And I'll do it better than you ever could, and I'll do it fucking gladly. Because being in her orbit, well that's a goddamn honour, and I will not be squandering it like you did."

Nat and Bob share a look that says... damn - maybe Jake is the one. Everyone is quiet. Rooster is breathing heavily, jaw ticking in anger, but Jake is cool as can be, not worried in the slightest. Coyote puts a hand on Jake's shoulder, and the two share a smile.

When Mav returns he senses the tension, but he doesn't say anything about it, just gets back to business.

And both Rooster and Hangman both have you on the mind.

At lunch, Jake shows up with two meals in hand.

You're at your desk again, looking over paperwork when he strolls in, just happy to see you.

"You're in luck, Doc," he says, "they're serving your favourite today."

A bright smile crosses your face when he sets the food down. Jake hesitates, only briefly, and decides it's okay to lay a soft kiss on your hairline as he hands you your meal.

"Thanks, Jake," you sigh, "I like... I like when you come here for lunch."

His heart flips. His cheeks feel warm and he knows the tips of his ears are turning pink at your admission.

"I like coming here," he says softly, pulling up a stool to sit beside you.

"It must be nice to get away from the chaos for a bit."

He shrugs, "I don't mind the chaos, I just like spending time with you."

"Big softie," you smile.

"Don't let the others know."

A knock on the door makes him tense, but he relaxes when Nat comes into the room. He thought maybe Rooster was coming to talk you out of going with Jake to the gala.

"Hey Doc," she says, "Hey, Bagman."

"Nix," Jake says, "she's not doing walk-ins, she's taking her lunch."

You hit him on the arm, laughing. "He doesn't speak for me, you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I actually just came by to invite you out later. Me, Halo and some of the other girls are going for drinks later and thought you might like to come."

"Oh," you say, "that sounds great!"

"Perfect, I was hoping you'd say that." Nat looks at Hangman, who isn't being annoying, miraculously, and he's just unwrapping your food before his own, like it's the most normal thing in the world. She can't help but note how much different he is when it comes to you, and it's... endearing, in a way. "We'll swing by your place to pick you up."

"Just text me the time," you say, "I can't wait, I need a girls night."

"Anytime."

Natasha leaves, hurrying to find Bob because she needs to debrief both the fight, and Jake sitting at your table setting up your plate immediately. It was almost domestic, and she needs to talk about it.

"You know what happened earlier?" Jake asked, and you shook your head. "Rooster pushed me after finding out I'm going to be your date next week."

"He pushed you? Oh, I'm so sorry Jake, I should've asked first but it just came out," you flush, looking him over like he'd told you that he was pushed down a flight of stairs.

"No, it's okay," he smiles, "would you like to go with me? It'd be an honour to take you."

"You don't have to," you rush, "I swear, I can just tell him I was lying. I don't know why I did that."

"Stop apologizing. I'm asking you because I would like to go with you. It would be fun."

"As friends?"

Jake looks at his plate, then you. "I mean yeah, we are friends. But it would still be a date. I pick you up, I get your drinks, we dance. Just because we're friends doesn't mean you're not getting the full treatment."

Something clicks in your head.

You're not entirely sure what.

But there are butterflies in your stomach, and it just feels... easy. Like how you wanted it to feel when Bradley asked you. With Jake it's, nicer. It feels better. It feels right. You don't know what it means, but you like it. You like being around Jake.

"I'd love to."

"Good," he smiles, "now eat, before one of those knuckleheads needs something else."

Jake gets a call at one in the morning.

He wants to ignore it, but he worries that it's his mother. He worries even more when he sees your picture across the screen.

"What's wrong?" he answers, heart pumping when he hears little sobs from your end of the line.

"I'm scared," you whisper. "I got too drunk, Jake, please."

"Please what? Where are you? I thought you were with Nat?"

Jake's already getting out of bed, moving to get into the pants he discarded earlier.

"Rooster and Fanboy showed up, crashing girls night. And it was fine," you hiccup, "but then Nat wanted to leave and Brad begged and whined for me to stay, so I did. And then he disappears, like, almost immediately. And Fanboy left with a girl and..." you whimper, "and I'm drunk and I can't find Rooster. Will you, would you please come get me? I'm sorry to ask but..."

His reply comes out immediately, "I'll be there in 10, stay where the bartenders can see you." And Jake's ears ring at the name Rooster. You rarely call any of them by their call signs. But he doesn't think he's ever even heard you say Rooster. It feels like the first crack in the dream. It feels kind of like hope.

Jake speeds to get to you.

You didn't listen, maybe you couldn't have because you're stumbling, Rooster has an arm around you outside the bar, he's holding you up and doing a piss poor job because Jake can see how unsteady you look from his truck.

He puts it in park right by the door, stopped in a no parking zone and ignores the annoyed look from the bouncer, immediately coming to your side.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks, brushing your hair off your face and looking you over, making sure you've got your bag and assessing whether to take you home or to the hospital. Dramatic, maybe, but with you it's important. He's actively ignoring Rooster's stupid face. He keeps the focus on you, and away from Bradshaw, because he doesn't trust what would come out of his mouth.

"Jake," is all you say, practically falling into his arms and out of Rooster's.

He holds you tightly, fully supporting you and not letting you fucking wobble around.

"What are you even doing here? I've got it. I was just about to get her into a cab."

"No, I will get her home safely, since you left her in the fucking dust, Chicken." Jake eyes the girl rolling her eyes and waiting for Rooster, and his anger hits a boiling point. "What? Were you just gunna roll her into the cab and fucking hope she makes it to her front door okay?"

"Jesus, Hangman, sorry if I don't want to ruin my night just because someone else got too drunk."

"Ruin your - !? You're pathetic, Rooster." Jake catches you as your knees wobble out from under you, and he picks you up, hands braced under your knees and behind your back, holding you close as you snuggle into his chest, humming happily.

Rooster's jaw ticks at the way you seem ... comfortable, in Jake's arms. Bradley was convinced what you and Jake were doing was just ... fun, flirting. This seems... more real than he was expecting. When Jake starts walking away without another word, Rooster feels extra indignant.

"She'll never love you the way she loves me, you know!" Rooster yells.

But it falls on deaf ears.

Because Jake loves you so unconditionally that it doesn't matter. He will be what you need. Even if it dismantles him in the process.

Jake gets you settled in the passenger seat, makes sure your seatbelt is done up before getting into the driver's seat. Rooster and the girl are gone before he pulls out of the lot, but he can't think about that now, he just drives steady and slow, not wanting to make you feel any worse.

It's so irritating, watching Bradshaw act like such a loser. And he only seems to do it to you, which is just extra irritating. He can't stand it.

The drive to your apartment isn't far, he parks and makes his way to your side, fishing the keys out of your purse before hanging it off his arm, strong forearms cradling you to carry you bridal style to your door. He makes it seem easy, the way he unlocks the door and brings you into your place. He locks the door behind him, and brings you into the bathroom, setting you on the toilet, making sure you're steady before continuing his work. He puts your purse on the counter, pockets your phone, and grabs a couple make up wipes to take the makeup off. He's as gentle as can be, even when you're grumbling and groaning, about fireball and lemon drops.

"Can I have this?" you ask, fingers pinching the shirt he's wearing. "Looks mighty comfy."

"You want the shirt off my back, huh?" he chuckles, but takes it off. "Anything for you."

You hum happily, peeling your shirt off without warning, and Jake trains his eyes to the ceiling. They feel like they're made of concrete the way he has to keep them up and off you.

"All clear, Lieutenant," you say, cheesy grin on your face, but his breath hitches, and he coughs to cover it up.

"Let's get you to bed," he says, helping you up again, and letting you walk on your own.

"Thanks for coming to get me," you whisper, sliding into bed. "I got really nervous and I just... I thought you'd be a safe person to call."

"I'm glad you did," he says, tucking the blanket up to your chin. Mostly for comfort, but also because knowing you're laying in nothing but his shirt right now was an image he didn't know he'd ever be able to get out of his head. "I just want you safe and happy."

You hum in response, easing into the pillow, eyes closing and breaths already getting slower. He starts moving to leave, and you eye him again, pout on your lips. He looks like an angel, shirt off, hair messy from sleep, soft smile on his face.

"Jake?" you whisper, "will you please stay in here with me?"

"Oh uh, yeah, okay," he says, shuffling over and crawling into bed with you. He keeps his jeans on, because taking them off while you're in the bed and drunk just doesn't feel ... right.

You don't seem to mind, you just snuggle into Jake's chest, hand splayed across his abs and it makes his stomach somersault under your touch. You fall asleep instantly. Jake hesitates, but rests his chin again your hair, letting himself pretend, just for tonight, that he has you.

The night of the gala, Jake feels sick.

You look ... beautiful.

No one has ever looked as beautiful as you since... well he thinks ever. And he knows that tonight is the night - in one way or another. Maybe Rooster will confess, or maybe you'll take the job offer. Either way, Jake is probably going to lose you tonight.

But it doesn't stop him from holding out his elbow to you, smiling softly at you and leading you into the party.

Rooster can't keep eyes off of you.

His date, the redhead from the bar all those nights ago, clings to his side like she belongs there.

And you see that, but it doesn't twist you up inside.

Like, maybe she does belong there. And maybe you belong here.

Jake's been a perfect gentleman the entire evening. He holds a palm over your lower back as you laugh and chat with Nat, he grabs you a new drink as you give Bob a big hug and compliment how well he cleans up. He pulls you closer when Coyote asks you to save him a dance, making you and Javy laugh.

And then he leads you to the dance floor.

He spins you gently, just as he knows you like, he holds you close and keeps his eyes on your face as he sways you to the music.

At some point between Jake spinning you softly and dipping you at the end of the song, you realize that you're not concerned about where Rooster is. Another slow song starts and Jake brings you back up, holding a hand securely around your waist, the other holding your hand and he just dances, eyes on you the whole time, smile soft, and warm. And you realize... you're not putting on a show, you're just dancing, and you're happy, and you want Jake to pull you close again.

And he does pull you; so close his nose brushes yours and his breath, whiskey coated and a hint of spearmint gum, fans over your lips. You can’t help but feel drawn in, you want to be drawn in - you want Jake. Not as a consolation prize, not as anything other than the man he is.

“Can I cut in?” Rooster asks, startling the pair of you. “Can we… can we dance?”

"Uh..." you start, ready to say no, but Jake she kisses your hairline, and it feels like goodbye, not permission.

"Don't spin her too fast," Jake says, eyes avoiding you, "she hates that."

And he slinks away without another word, grabbing a drink and finding Coyote in the crowd - not looking back at you once, because he can't bear to see it. Coyote gives him a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder - but he's got nothing to say.

Rooster holds you the same way Jake did; but it's not as warm. It doesn't feel as... right.

"You look beautiful," he says finally, and it's no less awkward. The compliment not making you blush the way Jake's do. Not anymore.

"Thanks, Rooster."

"I don't... I don't know when you started calling me Rooster but I thought, I thought I was always Bradley to you."

"Your friends all call you Rooster."

"You're not just my friend though," he whispers, "you know that, right?"

"But I..." you start, then stop, eyes flicking to the door and you watch helplessly as Jake walks through it. Your eyes find Rooster's again and your heart plummets. Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't he what you wanted?

So why is your body desperate to go follow Jake?

"I have to go," you rush, dropping Rooster's hand, but he doesn't drop his from your waist. "Jake went outside, I want to find him. He's my date, I want..." This is the moment, the moment you choose. "I want to go find Jake."

"Is this... do you love him?" Rooster asked.

"I don't know," you answer, honestly, "but I know that he's who I want to spend the rest of my night with."

"I always kinda thought that... I always thought it would be me and you ending up together, you know? Just... I didn't realize that I love you until now."

It was all you wanted to hear.

But...

"I have to go," you whisper.

...all you can think of is Jake.

Rooster's eyes fall to the floor, his stomach sinks even lower than that. "You really do look beautiful."

"Thanks uh, Bradley," you start shuffling your dress up so you don't step on it while you're walking, "see you at work!"

When you find Jake outside, he's leaning against the wall, hand braced above his head like something is causing him pain. You clear your throat and scare him, trying not to laugh as he clutches his chest, not finding it nearly as funny as you.

He looks you over quickly, lipstick still intact, no Chicken trailing behind you.

“How uh, how did that go?”

“Rooster told me he loves me.”

Jake smiles sadly. “That is… awesome. Yeah, it is, it’s great.”

“Jake…”

“Don't say my name like that,” he sighs, “you might have to call me Hangman now, actually, you know what - you have to call me Bagman.”

“Jake...” you chuckle.

“Oh my god,” Jake mutters, heart flipping in his chest, throat tight with regret. He’s just lost what little of you he had and you insist on torturing him by saying his name so fuckin' pretty. Like you're the only one who knows how to say it at all.

“I told him no.”

This makes Jake's eyes snap to yours, and his brow furrow. “What?”

“I told him no, I told him I came here with you and,” you smile, Jake malfunctions. So you close to gap, running a hand up Jake's neatly pressed dress whites, “and I’ll be leaving with you.”

“Me?” he whispers, unsure.

“You,” you smile softly, and the corner of his lip turns into a smirk, anyone else would think it's cocky, but you know he’s nervous, you know him, better than anyone. “If you want me to.”

“Baby,” Jake whispers, hands finding your hips over the soft fabric, and they grip you tight enough to hold you steady. “I want you so badly I was willing to let another man have you just to keep you on the island.”

Your hand slides up more until your fingers are softly against the side of his face, and he looks down at you like there is nowhere else he’d rather be.

That's the difference. Rooster only wanted you because he thought he lost you, thought you would be steady and waiting forever and suddenly you weren't. But Jake... he was willing to lose you if that's what would make you happy. Jake wants you because he loves you, because he’s afraid of wasting one second with you. Like the thought of not having enough time makes him ill.

“If I kiss you now,” Jake whispers, “It's real. I want you. I want everything. All of it, slow mornings, birthdays, holidays, parents asking when they're getting grandkids, all of it.”

“It's real,” you promise. “Kiss me?”

“Yes ma'am.”

When he kisses you, it's exactly right. Like the end of a romcom where the girl is swept off her feet by the real hero of the story.

He kisses you so softly, every move intentional and reverent. He doesn't rush. Just moves his lips against yours like he's exactly where he wants to be. His hands stay steady on your waist, while your thumb rubs softly against his cheek. His tongue rolls lazily into your mouth and you moan, and you can almost feel the smirk on his mouth as he nips your bottom lip, pulling away to rest his forehead on yours.

His eyes are glassy, relieved, filled with adoration as he looks at you.

"Do you want to go dance some more, baby?"

The pet name rolls off his tongue like it belongs there, and you shake your head no.

"I want you to take me home," you say, placing another chaste kiss on his mouth. He smiles, letting go with one hand and letting the other slide around to your lower back, leading you back to his truck without a second thought. There would be a lifetime of chances to dance, but that's not what you need right now.

Right now, you just need him.

"Jake, please," you moan, hands thread through his hair as he devours you like a man starved. "Just want you."

He pulls away for a second, fingers still moving inside you, and he kisses the inside of your thigh. "Stop rushin' baby girl, we got all night. And I'm still hungry."

"Baby, baby please."

He grunts, pained to decide between drawing another orgasm out of you with his mouth or giving into your pretty, pretty begging.

He was never one to deny you.

Jake crawls up your body, trailing kisses across your stomach, chest, neck as he does, before settling comfortably in between your legs. As he kisses you, you taste yourself, and you moan against slippery lips, hands wrapped around his broad shoulders like a lifeline.

"I'll be going back for more later," Jake says, making you laugh against him, tucking your face into his shoulder.

"Perv."

"If that's what it makes me, so be it."

His hand moves between you, grabbing himself to line himself up with your centre, and he drops his head against your shoulder at the feeling. So wet, and tight, and warm - he knows he won't last. It's been too long and you're, well, his dream.

"Please," you mutter, biting into his shoulder, begging for all of him, and he sighs, pushing into you.

You both gasp, the feeling of him stretching you so perfectly, no pain, no discomfort, just two people that were made for eachother.

The movements start slow, pulling back only a few inches to push back him, he wants to stay inside you, to feel you around him the rest of his life.

And then he slowly picks up the pace, listening to your moans to find the right spots inside you, the right tempo that makes you close your eyes and arch your back. He's learning every sound you make, committing it all to memory.

Jake’s hips stutter against yours, it takes everything in him to keep his composure, to stop himself from filling you with cum the second he’s inside you.

“Baby this is… you’re a dream - baby, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, i can’t … you feel so, so good baby.”

“Jake,” you mewl, “Jake it feels so good - makin’ me feel so good”

“Yeah, baby? You like it?”

“Love it - love you.”

Jake hips stutter again, and he stills. Large palms brushing over your forehead, moving damp hair away from your face, and his smile is soft, reverent.

“I love you too,” he whispers, slotting his lips against yours in a sensual, languid kiss, and his hips move again, slow, deliberate, controlled. "I love you so much." He angles himself deeper, hiking one of your legs over his waist and around his back, letting him sink fully into you, both of you moaning in tandem. "I'm sorry baby, it's - it's too fuckin' good, I'm not gunna be able to hold out."

"That's okay," you moan, "it's okay, let go. I want you to feel good."

"I feel so fucking good, baby."

"We have all night," you wink, "we'll go again."

He doesn't need anymore coaxing, he stills inside you, spilling deep, groaning against the curve of your neck, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine. He doesn't move, stays locked deep inside you, fanning kisses along your neck.

Eventually, he pulls out, and he hisses with over sensitivity. In his wildest dreams, this is always where he ends up, wrapped up in you. Not even just the sex, but the closeness of having you near, of being able to kiss you as he pleases, of not having to worry about needing his hands on you.

As you lay tangled in the sheets, your hit with a moment of clarity. Of everything you must have been putting Jake through the last week, and it feels akin to how you felt. His steady breaths a comfort you didn't know you needed, and you nuzzle closer into his side, with him happily making room to draw you in closer.

"I'm sorry," you say, guilt gnawing at your heart.

"What for?"

"For..." you sigh, "For asking you to help me with Rooster, I... I wish I fell for you in a better way, I wish it wasn't sullied by the drama."

"It's not sullied," he says, rolling over to face you, hand sliding under you to hold your cheek, thumb brushing over the curve of it. He smiles. "I don't feel like a second choice, I feel so, stupidly, insanely happy. I do not care how we got here, I'm just happy we're here."

"Are you sure that you won't, resent me?"

"I would do anything for you," he says after a moment, "I don't care that you used to love Bradshaw, I don't. I love you, I loved you unconditionally, and patiently, and it all worked out. Love is messy, baby." He kisses your nose. "Love you," he kisses your forehead, "love you," he kisses your cheek, "love you."

And he kisses you fully, slowly, pouring every ounce of love he has to give into you. And you sigh, content, comfortable, madly in love with Jake fucking Seresin of all people, with his cocky attitude and boyish grin that makes you feel alive. He fills your cup. He leaves room for you on busy days. And he never, ever strings you along for anything, ever. To him, you are the only feasible answer. To him, you are everything.

And to you, he is what home feels like. He is where warmth stems from. He's not just exciting, and handsome (so fucking beautiful really) but he's sturdy.

You pull away first. "I love you, Jake."

He just smiles, and brings you in for another kiss.

And another.

And another.

And then he groans as he rolls back on top of you, ready to promise you forever.

But you're both happy to start with tonight.

The rest of your lives can come one day at a time. And you'll face them all together.

bonus: epilogue

Rooster nurses his drink while his date talks his ear off about, what exactly? He doesn't even know.

His eyes drag back over to you, as they have all night, as has everybody’s, and he can't help the sigh that leaves him. You're a vision in white, the most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen.

And he's not the groom.

Hangman is.

Rooster looks at his date and feels a mix of resentment and guilt. She’s perfectly lovely, in a dress that exactly fits the theme and colour scheme, and she’s been kind to all of his friends. But she's not you.

He looks at you again, and watches Jake pick you up and twirl you slowly, holding you close to his body. Rooster's stomach drops the same way it had at the gala all those years ago.

Then Jake kisses you. Rooster clenches his jaw and looks away quickly. His date follows his previous line of sight and she sighs, finishing her drink and excusing herself.

Rooster doubts she’ll return to the table.

He doesn't care.

Just takes another sip of his drink, watching miserably and wondering how this even happened.

How Jake stole you away.

How Rooster didn't notice until it was too late.

But on the dance floor, Rooster hasn’t entered Jake’s mind once. His thoughts were completely consumed with you, trying to memorize exactly how you look, right now, at your wedding, to him. This is the best day anyone has ever had.

“I love you, Bagman.”

He laughs, head thrown back and carefree, enjoying what will one day be considered one of the greatest highlights of his life.