It’s… quiet.

Too quiet.

Chan’s place is never this silent—there’s usually music playing somewhere, the low hum of his computer, or him absentmindedly singing to himself from another room. But now? Nothing. Just a stillness.

“Chan?” I call softly, but there’s no response.

Frowning, I make my way down the hall toward his bedroom. I slowly push his door open and find him lying in bed, the faint glow from his phone the only light in the room. Even from the doorway, I can hear the congestion in his breathing.

“Hey, Channie.”

He lifts his head, brows knitting in confusion. “Bubbles? What’re you doing here?”

“Well, I heard from Innie that you’d turned down the mountain trip because you weren’t feeling well,” I say softly. “So I figured it must be pretty bad. I came to see how I can help.”

Chan slowly rolls onto his right side as I take a seat on the bed, leaning forward to check his forehead. Definitely a fever.

“What doesn’t feel good?” I ask gently.

“Literally everything,” he groans. “My whole body aches, I can’t get warm, my head’s pounding, I can’t breathe… haven’t been able to eat anything without wanting to throw up, and I haven’t slept properly for days.”

I cup his face softly. “Aww, Channie.

He reaches up, wrapping his hand around my wrist and nuzzling into my palm, eyes fluttering shut like he finally found something comforting.

“How can I help?”

He lets out a sigh, “I’d really like a shower.”

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” I murmur softly. “Maybe you’ll feel a little better.”

He hesitates for a second before admitting, voice quieter, “I tried to get up and got dizzy. Thought I was gonna pass out.” His grip on my wrist tightens just a little. “Didn’t wanna risk falling.”

“Okay,” I say gently, shifting a little closer to him. “Then that’s the plan. You don’t do anything by yourself—I’ve got you.”

His eyes flick up to mine, a mix of relief and exhaustion written all over his face.

“Action plan,” I continue softly, brushing my thumb along his cheek. “We get you in a warm shower, get some meds in you, fluids… and then you’re resting. No arguments.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

I slide my hand down from his face to his arm. “C’mon.”

Chan lets out a quiet breath as he pushes himself up, his movements sluggish. The second he’s upright, his balance wavers.

I step in closer, grabbing onto his arms before he can tip forward. We move carefully, step by step, out of the bedroom. His grip on me tightens slightly the further we go, his breathing uneven and heavier than it should be.

“Bath or shower?” I ask, keeping my voice light despite the way my chest tightens.

Chan turns his head toward me, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Depends… if I say bath, are you joining me?”

I chuckle. “Not this time, Channie.”

“Then shower it is.”

By the time we reach the bathroom, he’s leaning more of his weight into me than he probably realizes. I guide him inside, keeping a steady hold on him.

“Sit for a second,” I murmur, gently turning him toward the toilet, before helping him ease down onto it, my hands staying on his arms.

I turn toward the shower, reaching in to start the water, adjusting the temperature until it’s warm but not too hot. Steam slowly begins to fill the room.

I’ve barely taken a step back when I feel it—

his hand catching around my wrist.

I turn, and he’s looking up at me, eyes heavy, unfocused in that sleepy, sick way.

“Stay close…” he mumbles, his grip loose but insistent.

My expression softens instantly.

I step back toward him, standing in between his legs.

“Alright,” I murmur, brushing a hand lightly over his shoulder. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get you out of these.”

Chan hums softly but barely moves, clearly too drained to do much of anything.

He slowly pushes himself up and once he’s steady enough, my hands move to the hem of his sweatshirt, lifting it carefully. He raises his arms, though sluggishly, and I pull the shirt up and over his head. For a second, my hands brush over his shoulders as I drop it to the floor—warm skin, defined muscle. I try not to linger.

And definitely try not to think about it.

My gaze dips before I can stop it, landing on the waistband of his sweats. After a second too long I glance back up to Chans face, “…You gonna help me out here,” I say lightly, “or am I doing all the work?”

Chan’s lips twitch, eyes closed, but there’s a hint of that familiar expression there. “You seem to have it handled.”

I huff a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “Unbelievable.”

Hooking my fingers into the waistband, I carefully push the fabric down. He leans heavier into me as he steps out, one leg at a time, his eyes opening to lock with mine. “You could look you know.”

My eyes widen the same time his smirk does, “Christopher Bang!”

He chuckles softly before giving my hip a little squeeze.

Once he’s free of them, I guide him toward the shower, keeping a steady hold on him.

“Sit down.” I say gently, helping him lower himself to the floor, his back towards the stream.

The steam has thickened now, wrapping around us, soft and warm. I reach in to adjust the water again, making sure the temperature’s right before looking back at him.He seems to relax into it, shoulders dropping, eyes half-lidded. “Just sit here for a bit,” I tell him quietly. “Let the steam help, okay?”

He nods faintly, then glances up at me through damp lashes, a lazy, tired sort of smile tugging at his lips. “Bossy,” he murmurs.

“You like it.”

He nods, “I do.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small smile that slips through. I reach out, brushing my fingers gently through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “I’ll be right back,” I say softly.

His hand lifts slightly, like he might reach for me again—but it falls back to his lap before he fully commits. “…Don’t take too long,” he mumbles.

I make sure he’s settled on the shower floor, the warm water hitting his back before I step out, grabbing his dirty clothes. I toss them into his laundry hamper before heading to the kitchen. Reaching into the bag I brought, I pull out Gatorade, soup, and the meds. I take one of the bottles out of the pack, putting the rest in the fridge. Grabbing a bowl from the cabinet, I pour in the soup and set everything together before heading back toward Chan’s room. I place everything down on his nightstand—his blue Gatorade, meds, the bowl of soup—making sure it’s all within reach before heading over to his dresser. I pull out a pair of sweatpants, soft and worn, and turn back toward the bathroom.

Pushing the door open, I’m immediately met with warm steam.

“Still alive in here?” I call lightly.

Chan’s quiet chuckle answers me before I fully step in. “Barely.”

I step closer, crouching slightly beside him. His hair is damp now, sticking slightly to his forehead, his skin flushed from the heat—but he already looks a little more relaxed than before.

“Alright,” I say, holding up the sweats. “Let’s get you out and dressed.”

I set the sweats aside for a second and step closer, holding out my hand for him to grab. He places his hand up against the wall and slowly pushes himself up as I gently pull him.

Carefully, I help him step out of the shower, grabbing a towel and draping it around his shoulders. My hands move without thinking—patting his arms dry, then his chest, trying very hard to stay focused on the task and not the hard wall of muscle under my hands.

Chan watches me for a second, a faint, tired smirk pulling at his lips. I glance up at him and pause my movements, my cheeks heating up, “you can dry the rest.”

I quickly turn around and try to focus on something other than my very naked best friend behind me. I grab the sweats and put them under my arm before grabbing the vix.

Taking a deep breath, I turn back around to face Chan. I unscrew the cap to the fix before digging my finger into the vix before bringing them up to his chest and slowly rubbing it in. I spare a quick glance up at him, eyes already on me, before wiping my fingers off on the towel in his hand. You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I might charge extra for this level of service.”

He hums, “…Worth it.”

Grabbing the sweats from under my arm, I crouch slightly as I gather the fabric in my hands.

“Hold onto me,” I instruct.

He does, hands settling lightly on my shoulders this time.

“Give me this leg.”

He lifts it slowly, and I guide the fabric up, then the other, careful and steady as I pull them into place.

“Alright,” I say, softer. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

I guide him carefully back into the bedroom, staying close in case he wobbles. By the time we reach his side of the bed, he’s breathing a little steadier, but his posture still slumps from exhaustion.

“Alright,” I murmur, holding out the pills. “Here’s your meds.” He takes them slowly, then I pop open the blue Gatorade for him. A small sip, and I can see his eyes soften.

I reach over and grab the bowl of soup, holding the bowl in my hands. “Try a little,” I say, stepping carefully between his legs.

He lifts the spoon slowly, eyes flicking up at me.

I nod in encouragement, “Just a few spoonfuls.”

He swallows a bite, letting out a soft hum of approval.

After a few minutes of slowly sipping the soup, He leans back against the pillows, soup half-forgotten, eyelids heavy.

Before I could leave to go to the kitchen, one of chans hands shoots out to wrap around my wrist, “Stay?”

Hearing the tone of his voice, I nod, “Okay.”

I step into the bedroom after quickly changing into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his boxers. Soft fabric, smells faintly like him—comfortable and familiar.

Chan’s already propped himself up slightly, waiting, but the moment he sees me, a faint smile quirks his lips.

Before I can even sit properly, he flops forward onto me, chest against mine, arms draped heavily over me. “…Much better,” he mumbles, voice muffled into my shirt. He presses closer, nuzzling into my chest like it’s the safest spot in the world. “Mmm… don’t move,” he murmurs sleepily.

One of my legs snakes around his back, gently anchoring him to me. He lets out a content sigh, relaxing fully against my warmth. His hands lift one of mine, guiding it to scratch lightly down his broad, muscled back. I don’t mind. Not at all. “…Yeah, someone’s been working out,” I murmur, fingers tracing across his shoulders, smiling at the soft hum he makes.

He shifts slightly, nuzzling closer, and a tiny, lazy smirk plays on his lips. He hums softly, letting out a little content sigh, head pressing further into my chest. My leg stays snug around him, keeping him close, and I hide a grin at just how clingy and ridiculous he’s being—and how warm and comforting it feels. As he drifts deeper into sleep, I feel him twitch slightly, hand inching to hold mine tighter. A soft murmur escapes him in his sleep: “…don’t go…”

I chuckle quietly, pressing him closer. “Not going anywhere, big baby.”

I let out a long sigh, "Can you please watch where you're going?"

"Holy shit, I found you!"

My head snaps up, confusion written all over my face. Jin, who I haven't seen in almost two years and who was a family friend, stands in front of me with wide eyes. My confusion only grows deeper as he wraps his arms around me tightly, brings me to his chest, and lifts me off the ground causing me to tense. 

He sets me back on the ground before pushing me to arms length with his hands on my shoulders, "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"

"Looking for me?"

"You've been missing for three years!" 

"Missing?"

He nods, "You fell off the face of the earth and no one has heard from you since. Do you know how worried we all were?"

I shake my head, trying to shrug off his hands, "I'm not missing Jin."

Jin looks at me as if I was crazy, "You're not missing? Do you think we're all going to believe that you went away on your own? No, your dad was right to report you missing."

My dad? What the hell did he do now? "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Three years ago you vanished without a trace, no one hears from you or knows where you are. Your dad comes into the station and reports you missing."

"You're telling me, my father reported me missing to the cops?"

Jin nods, letting his hands fall from my shoulders down to my forearms, "He was so distraught, he was talking about how you guys were in the train station when a man in a grey suit with a briefcase who was tall approached him and asked him to play a game for money and when your dad refused, the man took you instead."

It doesn't necessarily shock me that my father would lie to the police, he was nothing more than a crook but to know that he reported me missing when it was his fault that I've been gone for three years is mind-blowing. 

"We sent out search parties, hung fliers, posted reward money for your return or any information on you or the man in the grey suit, we sent bolos to other cities and nearby countries, we checked surveillance tapes and everything came back with nothing."

I tilt my head to the side, "What do you mean surveillance tapes came back with nothing?"

I know for a fact that there were so many cameras in the station that one of them was bound to have caught my dad just hand me over to the grey suit guy. Granted I went willingly but still.

"The cameras were down the day you went missing."

I shake my head, of course they were. While my father is a complete sleazeball, he's a smart sleazeball who would cover all his bases. 

"Your case went cold until about two and a half years ago. We had a guy come in claiming he was taken to this island where there were four hundred and fifty-five other people there who owed money to someone or something. These people could play a couple of games and win money but if you lost a game you would be killed so there could only be one winner and this man claimed to be the winner. We thought he was complete batshit until he mentioned that he was approached by a tall man who wore a grey suit that had a briefcase who asked him if he wanted to play a game."

My father came home roaring drunk one night talking about how he was approached by someone in the station asking if he wanted to play a game for money and how he wanted the entire briefcase but the man wouldn't give it up so my father offered him something for the money in the case. That something was me. My father traded his own daughter for money.

When I found out, I was livid but then I realized it would be my only way out and away from him. 

We went to the station that same night and the man in the suit still stood there, seemingly waiting for my father to return. I suppose I should've beenfrightened at the fact that my father sold me to a stranger but I felt the complete opposite. Maybe it was the fact that he was dressed as an everyday salesman. I was calm as I stood by the man's side and watched my father walk away with the money. 

There was a small part of me that expected the man to let me go but he did not. I've been with him the past three years and I can say they've been the best three years. Yeah, he was completely batshit crazy. I mean he sent people to games where they were more than likely not coming back and he may have killed people (not quite positive on that one but he did come home with blood on his clothes and face so using context clues) but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I don't see the entire crazy side, I mostly only see the "normal" side. 

That's probably the daddy issues talking but that's a problem for another day. 

Letting out a sigh, I manage to tug one of my arms free, "Jin, as you can see, I am completely fine. I am unharmed and not missing. You can tell people I am fine but please don't tell them where I am."

His eyes go even wider, "You're coming home with me. I just told you that your father has been worried sick about you for the past three years and yet you don't want to come home or let me tell him where you are?"

If only he knew the truth about my father, although that might not matter as Jin has always tried, for some reason, to get on my father's good side. I knew of his crush on me since forever so I am sure that is his driving factor for wanting to be on my father's good side. 

Jin looks down as I try to tug my other hand free, his grip only getting tighter, "What's on your finger? Did you marry your kidnapper?"

It was about a year and a half when we got married. I fell for the "normal" side. Again, thank you daddy issues. 

Jin begins to tug on my arm, "You're coming home and that's the end of it. You and I will get married, your father will be happy, and you'll be home. Everything will go back to normal."

As I use my free hand to tug at his iron-like fist around my forearm, I manage to look at the time on his watch. My head shoots up, eyes frantically glancing over the different faces in the park in search of a certain man who doesn't like when his things are touched. 

Giving my forearm another tug, Jin starts trying to pull me in the opposite direction of where I was headed. 

"Jin, you need to let go of me right now."

A throat clearing behind me made Jin stop in his tracks, his head turning back to look at me. Or rather who was behind me.

I knew who it was without even having to look. 

"Who's this?"

My body tilts to the side a little while my head turns up, "A friend from home."

Returning my attention to Jin, I tug my arm again, "Jin, let go and go back home."

Jin's eyes seemingly trace every inch of the infamous man in the grey suit (although he had on black pants and a white button-up today), "Is this your kidnapper?"

Jins grip on my forearm tightens causing me to suck in a breath and as soon as the words, "Jin you're hurting me" came out of my mouth, my view was obstructed by a stretched-out (rather stretched due to broad shoulders) white button-up. 

"I believe my wife has told you that you are hurting her so it's in your best interest if you let go."

Jin's grip falters for a moment before going back to gripping my forearm, "I'm taking her back to where she belongs."

The man in front of me chuckles and I knew it was game over. 

"I don't like it when people touch what belongs to me."

I couldn't see anything but I could hear and what I heard was a fist connecting to face, more specifically a fist breaking a bone. 

Jin immediately let go of my arm, letting me move out from behind my shield who had his head tilted and his signature smirk. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was in crazy mode. 

My salesman looks down at me, eyes quickly giving me a once over only to narrow when he sees my now see-through sundress. His eyes snaps back to Jin, who looked like he was about to shit his pants, "Not only was it enough to hurt my wife but you wanted to see what I get to have every night? Did you purposefully make her spill the drinks on herself?"

I quickly place myself in front of him, one of my hands going to his chest while the other goes to the side of his neck. Over the past three years, I've learned that skin-to-skin contact seems to help pull him out of the I'm a killer phase. "Look at me... Look at me, please...I want to go home."

His gaze snaps to mine and I give him a little smile, "Take me home?"

I could feel him relax a little before he reached up and takes hold of my hand that was on his chest. He shoots Jin a look that would for sure kill him if looks could kill and turn on his heels, pulling me in the direction of our home. 

I don't bother turning around to look at Jin.

"What was his favorite game to play as a child?"

My salesman was already looking at me when I looked up at him. 

"If you don't tell me, I'll have to pick my favorite and we both know which one that’ll be”

"You're awake! How are you feeling?"

I tried to offer Rollins a small smile but could only wince as pain shot through my face, "Sore, very sore."

Amanda picked up a chair before setting it down next to my hospital bed and sitting down, "Well after the beating you took, sore is to be expected." 

I close my eyes and let my head fall back, letting what happened flow back into my mind. Working the case, getting the tip that Barban was going to be at this warehouse meeting where he wanted to see new talent, him being interested in me and then losing it, the pain for his hits and kicks, his hands wrapping around my neck, and I'm pretty sure I remember Joe coming in but that's when things start to get a little fuzzy.

"Did we catch him?"

Shaking her head, Amanda let out a sigh, "After you were made, we rushed in. Velasco was the first one in there and by the time the rest of us got in there, Barban was unconscious on the floor next to you, and his face took a pretty hard hit. We get you into an ambulance and off to the hospital then we get Barban loaded up and off to the hospital. On the way to the hospital, his bus got ambushed and someone helped him escape. We don't know where he is yet."

"So I look like this for nothing?" 

Amanda chuckles before reaching out and gently squeezing my bandaged hand, "We'll catch him."

I give her a nod before letting out a sigh, a feeling of uneasiness spreads throughout my body. Barban was the worst of the worst and having my cover blown was less than ideal. If he figured out I was a cop then he could figure anything out, he could figure me out. He could figure out where I lived, my family, what precinct I worked in, and who in my life meant something to me. 

Letting my head lull to the right, my gaze lands on Joe who was passed out on the tiny green recliner chair. 

 "He hasn't left since you got here. We've tried to get him to go home, to shower, to eat, to sleep, to take a break but he refuses to leave your side. I have never seen him like this or how he was when you were in the warehouse." 

Before I could say anything, her phone started to ring, "It's Olivia, I'm going to take this outside and tell your doctor that you're awake. You should wake him up." 

My eyes follow her as she leaves the room, quietly shutting the door behind her, before letting my gaze fall back to Joe. 

Slowly, I push myself up into a sitting position and gently move my legs over the side of the bed. Gripping the handrail of the bed and as soon as my feet touched the ground and I was standing, a whimper fell from me causing Joe's eyes to shoot open. 

He was over to me in record time, gently grabbing my forearm, "What're  you doing?"

Swallowing so maybe it wouldn't hurt as bad to talk, "I'm up, so you're up."

Joe tried to guide me back to sit down but I shake my head, "I want to stand for a little." He nods and his eyes take in my face before moving lower, no doubt checking the damage. 

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."

I shake my head before tilting it to the side, "This is not your fault Joe."

"If I had been faster to get to you or if we had sent another UC in there with you, none of this would've happened." 

Reaching as high as I could without wincing, I place my hand on his chest, "Joe,  he figured me out, this is not your fault."

Leaning down, he gently places his forehead against mine, " When I got in there, he had his hands around your throat and you weren't moving and I couldn't tell if you were breathing. I thought I had lost you." 

"But you didn't." 

                                                                     **********

"Everything is looking good, the swelling has started to go down and will only continue to do so. The bruises will take a while to heal due to how significant they are. You can take your brace off your hand to shower but I want it on as much as possible. Take your pain meds as prescribed. If there are no questions, I will leave your discharge paperwork, leave you to get dressed, and send transportation to help you. Take care of yourself." 

Joe places a bag next to me on the bed before unzipping it, "I brought you some of my clothes because I thought you wouldn't want things rubbing against your bruises." 

I smile up at him, "Thank you."

Reaching into the bag, Joe takes out a pair of sweatpants before kneeling to the ground. Joe gently guides my legs through the leg holes before pulling the pants up to my knees. I grabbed the waistband of the pants while he gently wrapped an arm around my waist to help me stand from the bed. I tied the strings while Joe grabbed a white t-shirt from the bag. 

I take my arms out of the hospital's gown armholes and hold the gown to my gest. Joe tilts his head to the ceiling while I, as quick as I could, maneuver the shirt on. "You can look now." 

Joe shoots me a smile before going to open the door so the transportation guy can wheel the wheelchair in. Walking back over to me, Joe grabs my hands to help me sit in the chair, "By the way, you're staying with me until we catch Barban."

I went to argue but the look on his face told me that there was no way he was going to budge so I simply nodded.

"Drinking at one o'clock in the afternoon? You really have reached rockstar status!" 

Noah's head snaps up, eyebrows furrowing in confusion before a smile ultimately takes up his whole face once he realizes that it was me.

I smile back as I start a little jog towards him, letting my bag drop once I am close enough and throw my arms around his neck. Noah, careful not to spill his drink, bends and tightly wraps his arms around my waist. 

Bending his knees a bit, Noah tightens his grip around my waist and lifts me off the floor before turning around to face the way he came and walking a few steps before sitting me down on a little wall ledge, "What're you doing here?" 

"There's this band called Bad Omens, people say they're cool so I thought I'd check them out." 

Noah shakes his head, "You wouldn't like their music."

I shrug before taking the cup from his hand and bringing it up to my lips, almost gagging as the amber liquid touched my tongue, "Oh my god, that's awful." 

Noah laughs, taking the cup from me and setting it to the side, placing his palms on the surface on either side of me, "No seriously, what're you doing here?" 

"Honestly?" 

He nods and I let out a sigh, beginning to play with my fingers that sat in my lap, "Jolly called me, he said that you seemed a little off. That you didn't seem like yourself, even when tour started. Jolly said that you wouldn't talk about it, always saying that nothing was wrong. The boys can't figure it out so Jolly asked if I knew but as far as I knew everything was fine. Jolly finally asked me if I would just come out to either cheer you up or fix what it is that's going on." I tilt my head as I look at him, "So tell me what's going on in that mind of yours."

Noah lets out a sigh before letting his head fall to my thighs, my hands automatically going to his hair. "It's so stupid but I cannot talk about it because if I do then I will be distracted the whole night and I'll be shit on stage." 

I had never seen Noah rattled before. He was always so calm and collected both on and off stage. It seemed like nothing could ever throw him off his game so whatever it was, must be big. 

Pulling my hands out of his hair, I place my hands on his shoulders and gently push him so he could stand up straight and look at me, "In that case, why don't we go put my bag away and then you take me to a merch stand so I can get a shirt and we can hang out until you have to go on? We can deal with this later." 

He nods his head and helps me down from the ledge, grabbing my bag as begin to walk towards their tour bus, "Don't you have a million Bad Omen shirts?" 

"Um, I don't have one from this tour!" 

                                                                              ****

I felt Noah shift behind me for what felt like the thousandth time. 

Don't get me wrong, tour buses aren't all that comfortable and I'm sure it's hard when the bed is barely big enough to fit someone's tall frame, but this bunk bed was so much more comfortable than previous ones. Now it could be because I have had a very long day but I all but passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. 

Noah lets out a sigh as he flops onto his back. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" 

I shake my head, momentarily forgetting that it was pitch black and he couldn't see, "No but will you tell me what's keep you awake? Is it what's throwing you off?" 

It was silent for a few minutes and I was beginning to think that he had, finally, fallen asleep, but he sighs, his raspy voice whispering in the dark, "It's a fucking dream." 

"What?" 

"The night before our first show I had this dream and now every time I close my eyes, even if it's just to fucking blink, I see it. I think about it constantly and I just can't get it out of my head long enough to focus. Fuck, even when I'm out on stage I think about it. "

I roll onto my stomach and push myself to rest on my forearms, "Was it a nightmare?" 

"It was a fucking sex dream. Well, it started off as a sex dream, with you and I, which whatever, I've had those multiple times, but then it morphed into something more.  One minute you and I were going at it, it was great by the way, and then it switched, and all of a sudden we were going on dates, getting married, having babies, growing old, being dumb as hell together."

Pushing my weight to one arm, I move my hand to grab his arm, "Noah it was just a dream." 

I could feel him shake his head, "No it wasn't. I thought that at first too but then I realized that it's what I want. It's like those cliche romance books you read where the two best friends fall in love. I fell in love with my best friend and that dream just sent me over the edge because I want that with you. I want to take you out, be able to hold your hand, and touch your butt in public. I want to do the absolute dumbest shit with you by my side. I want to ride out the rest of this music shit with you by my side. I want to get married and put so many babies in you. I want to grow old with you." 

Noah's hand comes in contact with my jaw, his thumb gently tracing over my skin, "I'm sorry if I've ruined everything." 

Shaking my head, I pushed myself up until I was half on his chest with my nose brushing his, "You didn't ruin anything." 

Noah takes a beat before letting out a puff of air, hand wrapping around the back of my neck and pulling me forward, smashing his lips against mine. 

It was odd at first, kissing your best friend of years, but that quickly faded into something more passionate.

Pulling apart, "I don't think we should have babies right now but why don't we practice making them?" 

I halt as I enter the kitchen, eyes locked on the open sliding glass door, "Hangman, did you leave the backdoor open?"

"No, I've been upstairs waiting on your ass to finish getting ready."

Rolling my eyes, I head over to the door before pulling it shut and ensuring the lock is in place. I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over the backyard, which in reality was the beach. There was a feeling that washed over me that caused a shiver to run down my spine as I gazed out but I didn't have time to dwell on it as I heard footsteps stomping down the stairs. 

Shaking my head, I turned back towards the counter to get my clutch, opening it to make sure I had everything I needed. 

"You clean up nice." 

My head snaps up to see Hangman standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking very sharp in his outfit. Hangman was busy fixing his shirt cuffs which gave me a bit to look over him. His white dress shirt hugged him rather nicely, his biceps on display and his shoulders looking even more broad than normal. His pants fit him nicely, not too tight but not too loose. Not a single hair was out of place.

"Thank you, you're not so bad yourself." 

While I wasn't conceited, like some people ( cough cough Hangman), I thought I looked decent. The lilac-colored dress didn't look awful like I thought it would.  I was a bit nervous about the strapless A-line part but it turned out to be great, not to mention I was in love with the "ruffle" slit up the leg. 

Grabbing his jacket off the counter and the keys out of the bowl, Hangman looks at me, "Ready?" 

Nodding, I follow Hangman out of the house, mumbling thanks as he opens the car door for me. He handed me his jacket before closing the door and heading to the driver's side. 

Hangman and I seemed to have fallen into the husband-and-wife routine pretty easily over the last month. I was a bit worried when we first moved in, I wasn't quite sure how our lives were going to intertwine with each other. I had so many questions; How would we decorate? How would our routines coincide with each other? How would this impact the next eleven months? How are we going to convince people that we were given this whole marriage thing ago? Are we going to end up hating each other after this? How would my ex react?

I am genuinely shocked with how well it was going. Hangman was, unsurprisingly, very neat. The first night we moved in, everything was unpacked and put away. He built furniture like a madman and tore down boxes like his life depended on it. I was also very shocked to learn that he is a good cook. Now I can throw down in the kitchen so I am usually the one doing all of the cooking but when Hangman manages to get in there, it's good. So far our routines work out great, he works out in the morning and goes to work, I make his lunch in the morning, and then go to work. By the time we get home, whoever gets home first has dinner ready by the time the other gets home, we eat, chat, and either sleep or sit out on the deck.

                                                                            *********

"Mrs. Seresin!" 

A smile breaks out on my face as my eyes land on Phoenix making her way towards me, "Mrs. Floyd!" 

I wrap my arms around her and give her a tight squeeze before pulling back to look at her, "The ceremony was beautiful Phi! How does it feel to be a married woman?"

She briefly moves her head to look at Bob over at the pool tables before turning back to me, "It's an amazing feeling!"

I tightly squeeze her hands, "I am so happy for you!" 

"Where's Hangman?"

Shrugging my shoulders, "He told me he would meet me in here." 

As soon as the ceremony was over and everyone was making their way up to the beach to head into the bar, Hangman told me to go in and that he would meet me in there. Didn't tell me why or give me a chance to respond, just walked off.

"Well, go get yourself a drink and then head over to our spot, I will meet you all there as soon as I can."

Smiling at her, I turn on my heel and head towards the bar. The bar was filled with uniforms. Everywhere you looked, you were hit with a Navy uniform. 

Squeezing into a space at the bar, I smile at Penny when she waves and starts to make my go-to drink. "Penny, can you add Hangmans too?" 

She nods before going back to making the drinks and talking to Mav. 

"Bride or groom?" 

Turning to the right, my eyes land on a young man in a Navy uniform leaning against the bar. This man barely looked old enough to be in here. "Both."

Inching a bit closer to me, the youngster says, "I'm here for Bob, we were deployed together a bit ago." 

I nod with a smile, "It's great you came."

"Want to dance?"

Shaking my head, "No thank you." 

Penny places my drinks in front of me before hurrying off to help someone else. 

"Two drinks? Need help drinking them?" 

Before I could answer someone pressed their chest up against my back, "Her husband will help her."

Tilting my head back, I see Hangman staring down at the young sailor who looks a bit scared. 

Hangman doesn't let the kid say anything else before he slides in between him and me, bringing up his hand that held my jacket, "I figured you would be cold so I went to the car to grab it."

I gently take it from his hand and slip it on, "Thank you."

Hangman hands me my drink before grabbing his, nodding his head towards the back of the bar where everyone else is, "Fancy getting your butt kicked in pool?"

Taglist:

There were four things I was sure of before I even opened my eyes this morning. 

1. I was going to have the worst hangover in the history of hangovers. 

2.  I was never drinking again.

3. Number 2 is a lie

4. I need to ask the hotel where they got their blankets because they seemed to be heated and weighted so I need one.

I couldn't remember what I drank, how much I drank last night. or what we even did. 

There was no doubt that coming to Vegas for a bachelor and bachelorette party would be crazy, I knew that as soon as I saw where we were going, but I didn't think we'd end up straight out of a scene from The Hangover. 

I lay there for a little while longer, trying to get up the nerve to open my eyes. I knew that once I did, my headache would set in and I don't think I was ready for that. 

After a few minutes, I felt myself starting to fall back asleep but before I could, the weight on top of me began to move. Panic rises through me as I thought it was a weighted blanket this whole time. 

Once my eyes adjust, my gaze lands on a very hungover, possibly still drunk, Jake Seresin sitting up on his knees. His hair was all over the place, nothing on but a pair of Calvin Klein briefs, hands rubbing his eyes. 

"What the fuck did we do last night?"

Jake startles, head whipping up to look at me, but recovers quickly. A smirk slides onto his face and he opens his mouth to say something but I quickly hold up my hand to stop him. I was in no mood to hear one of his comments. Taking in his attire, or lack thereof, my mind begins to race. 

My eyes widen as I quickly pull up the blanket that was covering my body. I was in one of Jake's t-shirts so that was a good sign but my relief was short-lived as I came to see that my underwear has seemingly gone mia. 

I push myself up to a sitting position, throwing my hands up to cover my face, "Do you remember anything from last night?"

"You mean, did we have sex?" 

Rolling my eyes behind my hands, "Yes, Hangman, did we have sex or not?" 

I didn't have to look at him to know that he was smirking, "Can you walk?" 

My hands fall away from my face, giving him the most confused face I could muster, "What does my ability to walk have to do with anything?" 

Leaning back on his hands, "Princess, if we had sex last night, there's no way you'd be able to walk this morning."

Closing my eyes, I let out a huge sigh, "Now is not the time for games, Hangman."

"I'm just telling you the truth, ask any of the girls I've taken home." 

I open my eyes to look at him, "There's not enough time in the world to go through that list." 

He rolls his eyes but says nothing else. 

As the silence rolls over the room, I let my eyes wander around. I was definitely in Hangman's room, his stuff was thrown everywhere, it smelled like him, and it had a different view of the strip than mine did. My attention is brought back to Hangman as he drags a hand down his face. My eyes are drawn to his fingers, specifically his ring finger, "Hangman, what's on your finger?"

His eyebrows furrow as he pulls his hand away from his face to look, "Is that a wedding ring?"

A black shiny band wraps around his finger. His ring finger.

"Who the hell did I marry?" 

A sinking feeling settles in my stomach as the words leave his mouth. Slowly, I look down at my hands that rested on my lap. I turn my hand so I could see the back of my hand, my eyes are immediately drawn to the ring that rested on my finger. My ring finger.

I look back up at Hangman, whose brows were furrowed and whose gaze was locked on the ring on my hand, "This is a joke right?"

Hangman didn't say anything, just continued to stare, so he was useless at the moment. 

Flinging the blanket off, I throw my legs off the side of the bed and push myself up. I head over to the dresser and begin to open the drawers, "Hangman, where are your underwear?'

Glancing over my shoulder, Hangman still sat on the bed staring at my empty spot. "Hangman!" 

He turns to look at me, a very confused look on his face. "I need a pair of underwear to wear so we can go find our friends who will hopefully tell us that this was just a joke and that they snuck in here and placed the rings on our fingers while we were sleeping."

He points over to the closet but doesn't say anything. I rush over and throw the doors open, quickly grabbing a pair of his boxers and pulling them on before heading to the bathroom. I put some toothpaste onto my finger before quickly "brushing" my teeth. 

Hangman had pulled on a pair of sweats and was pulling on a t-shirt when I walked out of the bathroom. 

Neither of us said a word as we made our way towards the front door where we find a note from Bob, saying to meet them in the buffet room.

All but throwing open the door, I quickly make my way down the hall and towards the elevator with Hangman trailing behind me. 

The words from my ex repeating in my head, if you get with anyone else I'll have no choice but... my thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator.

The elevator ride seemed to go on forever. Neither Hangman nor I said anything to each other. It was like Hangman and I hated each other but we weren't friends either. I was introduced to the group through Coyote. Hangman had tried his usual tricks to get into my pants and I didn't fall for it. I think I was the only one who didn't fall for him and he wasn't used to it.

The lobby was already busting with people by the time we got here, I couldn't tell if people were going or if their night had just ended. 

Hangman and I begin to make our way towards the buffet room but we didn't get very far, "Mr. and Mrs. Seresin!" 

I turn my head and see the front desk lady looking in our direction.  I stared at her for a few seconds before bringing a finger up to point at me. She nods and enthusiastically waves us over.

I grab Hangman's arm and begin to drag him over to the front desk. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Seresin! Good morning!"

The lady's smile falters for a brief second but returns to its over-the-topness, "I was just about to give you a call! The chapel called and they requested that I copy of the marriage license be mailed to the address in San Diego and that it was successfully filed this morning!"

                                                              **********

The lawyer sets the marriage license down before leaning back in his chair, running a hand over his face, "To be honest, there is nothing we can do."

I'm pretty sure my eyes about fell out of my skull.

"There are laws in place here in San Diego, specifically towards those who get married in Vegas and shotgun weddings. Basically, to not waste the court's time, those who get married like you two did have to be married a full year before they can file for divorce."

I take a deep breath in, leaning my head against my hand, "So we can't get divorced for a year?"

Wheezie?"

I squint as I pull back my phone to see if the call was still connected after not getting a response. "Wheezie, what is it?"

I hear her take in a shaky breath and a sniffle, making me realize that this is something serious as Wheezie never cries. 

"Rafe relapsed."

That is all it took for me to spring up from my bed, grab my car keys, and rush out the door while telling Wheezie to stay on the phone with me. 

My mind raced with what seemed like a million ideas as to why Rafe had relapsed, the majority of my ideas all centered around Ward. Rafe was doing so well. He got clean, graduated high school at the top of his class, had multiple offers to colleges, and scouts looking into him for the major leagues of Lacrosse. I was so proud of him for getting his life back on track. It literally killed me to see him coked out almost every night and on the nights he wasn't doing coke, he would be taking god knows what pills.

I know how important getting clean to him was. He wanted, wants, a better life for himself. I remember him coming to me asking for help. It was a random Tuesday right at the beginning of our senior year. He climbed through my window, talking about how he wanted to change, wanted to be a better person for himself, for Wheezie, and for me. Rafe wanted to be a better role model for Wheezie than their dad was and he couldn't do that if he doing drugs. 

Rafe got sober and the summer after we graduated was probably one of the best summers we've ever had. Rafe moved out of Ward's house, Wheezie practically moved in with him, the three of us were taking trips to different colleges like our lives depended on it, and just overall having a good time living our lives. 

Wheezie was sitting on the front steps as I pulled in and even from afar you could tell she has been through hell tonight.

If she saw through my small reassuring smile, she didn't say anything rather wrapping her arms tightly around me the minute I was in arms reach, "I am going to fix this Wheez,  I promise."

The house was eerily quiet when we entered, there wasn't the same warm feeling that I usually got when I came over. The house felt empty, cold even. 

"Wheezie, I want you to go up to your room, shut the door, turn on a movie or try to go to bed. I don't want you to coming into his room, it's going to be really rough and that's not something I want you to see."

I follow Wheezie up the stairs, keeping an eye on her as she makes her way down the hall, t her bedroom. Before she enters, she looks back at me, eyes pleading with me, asking me to promise that he was going to be okay. I offer her a small nod and a very small smile before she walked into her room and shut the door. 

Turning on my heel I make my way down the hall, to the opposite side of the house. 

I come to a stop at his door, letting my eyes close and my head fall back as I pray to everyone and anyone to let him be okay, to make sure that I was not walking in on a dead body. I take in a very deep breath and hold it as I grasp the door handle, twisting and pushing the door open. 

I quickly close the door, pushing my back up against it as it shuts. 

My gaze quickly finds Rafe, slumped up against a wall, head lulled to the side. His hair was greasy and unkept, his clothes were wrinkly and I'm pretty sure his shirt had throw up on it. Rafe looked very pale which was quite a contrast to his usual tanned skin. 

Before I could even blink, my feet are carrying me across his room, my hands reaching out to grasp his face as I bend down in front of him, "Rafe?"

It took a second but Rafe finally opened his eyes about halfway, a small smile making its way onto his face as he realizes it was me, "Hi bubbles."

 I move some hair out of his eyes, "Hi."

His eyes start to water as he looks at me, "I fucked up."

If my heart wasn't broken before it was now. I had never seen him look so broken, so defeated. It took everything I had not to break down and cry, "It's okay, we're going to fix it. First, let's get you cleaned up."

Using every ounce of strength I had mixed with the little help from Rafe, I managed to get him up off the floor.  I pull his arm around my shoulders before wrapping both of my arms around his waist as we slowly make our way to the bathroom. 

I make sure he is stable sitting on the toilet before moving to turn on the shower making sure the water was warm. 

Turning back to him, I grab the back of his t-shirt and pull it off of him, tossing it somewhere in the bathroom before bending down to grab the band of his shorts. Rafe seems to get the idea and lifts his hips up so I could pull them down his legs. 

I grab his forearms and pull him up, letting him turn to face the shower while I wrap my arms around his waist. We stumble our way into the shower together, the warm water welcoming and relaxing. I lay my head against his back while the water washes over him. 

After giving him a few minutes of silence, the one burning question that has been on my mind finally comes out, "What happened Rafe?"

I feel him take a deep breath in, his hands coming up to squeeze mine as they were still wrapped around him, letting his head hang, "Growing up I thought it was so cool that everyone knew who I was. They would hear Rafe Cameron and automatically know. When I got to high school, I realized that people feared that name and I loved it."

There were so many times I saw people cower and avoid eye contact with him when they heard his name, when they saw him, and when his family entered the room. 

"There was always a small part of me that knew that a name should not cause fear or a reaction like that but I pushed that feeling down. Having the Cameron name, being Ward's son, meant that I had everything I could have ever wanted. I had the cars, the money, the girls, the parties, and the drugs. I knew that I could get away with anything and everything because of my name. It really was the best feeling in the world. The world was mine for the taking all because of my name."

His grip on my wrists tightens as he continues, "Having the Cameron name meant that everyone knew everything about me. My entire life was open to the public, there was never an opportunity for me to have something just for myself, it was like they knew stuff about me before I did. There was the time I overdosed, I was so sick. I was throwing up everywhere, I couldn't eat, couldn't drink, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. No one cared about it then but they sure do like to bring it up at almost every gathering."

His voice was barely above a whisper at this point but I heard him loud and clear, " I am so lonely bubbles...and I just couldn't take it anymore."

There was no way I could stop the tears from flowing, "Rafe I am so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?"

"And be a burden to you? Hold you back from living your life? I couldn't do that to you."

"Rafe you are my life and there's nothing I wouldn't give to make sure you were happy."

He and I stand, molded together under the water for what seems like forever. I think the water ran cold by the time he actually started to clean himself up. 

Rafe leans up against the wall of the shower while I step out, quickly peeling the wet shirt from my body and wrapping a towel around myself before grabbing a towel for him. I made sure he was sitting down on the toilet as he began to dry himself off before heading back into his room to grab him a pair of dry boxers and steal a shirt for myself. 

I throw the towel over the shower rod as he pulls his boxers up, helping him walk slowly to his bed. Rafe plops down, one eye popping open to look at me, "I love you bubbles, more than a best friend should."

"Tell me when you're sober."

                                                              *******

I had been up for hours by the time Rafe woke up. I had cleaned his entire room, making sure to clean up the mess from last night.  I was zipping up the last duffel when Rafe pushes himself up, setting his elbows on his knees while his hands held his head. 

My voice was small as I greeted him, "Hi."

I was absolutely heartbroken, I had no idea my best friend was suffering, and hurting and I feel like I was partly to blame. I left for college and didn't even consider thinking that Rafe might relapse. I didn't think to ask more often than I did how he was feeling, and if everything was okay. 

"Morning Bubbles."

Rafe glances over his shoulder, eyeing up the duffles that were lined up before looking up at me.

"You're going to come back to Wilmington with me. My roommates already know about it and they're cool with it. You are coming with me whether you like it or not. Wheezie is going home, she's okay with it. We're going to get you clean and back on track, and when that happens Wheezie is going to come down and visit, hell she can even move down there if she wants. I need you to get dressed so we can go grab my things and get on the road."

I grab the duffle bags in my hand, placing a kiss on his forehead before exiting his room. 

Wheezie was already downstairs by the time I got here, her bags all packed, and sat beside her as she finished her cereal. 

I sit with her while she finished, neither of us saying anything. 

My eyes follow her as she moves around the kitchen, placing her bowl in the sink, and putting the box of cereal away. She walks back over to where she was sitting before reaching down to grab her bag, nodding at me once she stood back to full height. I smile at her before grabbing Rafe's duffle bags, the both of us heading outside 

Wheezie sits on the porch while I put Rafe's things in my car, coming back to sit with her once they were secured in my trunk, "He's going to be okay, right?"

I throw my arm around her and pull her into my side, "He's going to be just fine, I promise. You're going to come to visit as soon as he's back on track. I'll get him back to being his old self."

She and I sit in silence for a while, listening to the waves crash, finding comfort in the way the wind blew. 

Just as Rose's car pulls up, the front door opens and outsteps Rafe. While he wasn't looking like his usual self, he looked ten times better than he did last night. A pair of sweats covered his long legs while an old high school lacrosse sweatshirt adorned his upper half, his hair was messy but in the usual Rafe fashion. 

The moment Rafe is within reach, Wheezie wraps her arms as tightly as she could around his waist, Rafe following her lead. 

"I am so sorry Wheezie. I am so sorry you had to see me like that again, that you had to call for help, that I let you down."

Wheezie looks up at him, a few stray tears escaping her eyes, "Please get better, I want my big brother back."

Rafe nods before squeezing her against him again only pulling away when Rose honks her horn. 

Rafe and I watch silently as Wheezie grabs her bag and rushes down the steps to her mom, stopping before she gets in the car to look back, waving one last time before getting in the car. 

I wait until the car is out of view before looking up at him, "Ready?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, what can I do for you?"

"You can unlock your window."

I furrow my eyebrows before walking out of the bathroom, making sure my towel was secured around my chest and making my way over to my window.

I spotted the blue Bronco parked across the street first before I let my eyes travel to the ground, Bradley waving up at me once I catch his gaze. I send him a little wave before unlocking my window, watching as Bradley pockets his phone as I push the window up.

Turning on my heel, having already watched him climb my wall many times before, I toss my phone onto my bed before heading over to my dresser to fish out some pj's. I grab out some sleep shorts before grabbing a T-shirt that no doubt used to belong to Bradley.

Tossing my pj's on the top of the dresser, I turn as I hear Bradley side through the window.

As he was shutting the window, I let my eyes take him in. He was in his flight uniform, which shocked me a little as he always usually changes before leaving base, and it was a sight for sore eyes. It was rare that I got to see him in something other than his Hawaiian shirts. I let my eyes travel over his back, his broad back seemed even broader in the suit. The deep green made the freshly tanned skin stand out even more.

Bradley turns and moves his gaze around the room before letting his gaze land on me.

Wasn't even subtle about his eyes traveling from my head to my toes and back up again, the infamous smirk gracing his face, "Only candles for light, music playing in the background, and you in nothing but a teeny towel. Did you know I was coming over?"

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms as  I lean up against the dresser, "What are you doing here?"

"A guy can't come to see his best girl?"

"There's something wrong with you?"

He mimics me, crossing his arms over his chest making him look even hotter, if that was even possible, "I don't know what you're talking about, there is nothing wrong with me."

I let out a laugh, "You're a filthy liar Bradshaw. I could tell from the moment you stepped foot in this room that there was something bothering you."

Bradley raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, "Oh?"

Nodding, I push myself off the dresser before walking the small distance to stand in front of him, "See other than the fact that you're way too tense, you've also done this thing since I've known you. When you're mad, jealous, or there's something bothering you, you do this very sexy jaw thing where you clench your jaw," I bring my fingers to rest the back of his jaw on either side, "multiple times until you either get over it or you talk about it."

His eyes wander over my face for what seems like forever before he lets out a sigh, "You're right."

I do my best to fight the victorious smile threatening to take over my face, "I want to hear about but you smell like jet fuel and while I usually love that smell, I don't want my entire room smelling like it, so go shower and we will talk about when you get out."

Bradley shakes his head with a laugh before agreeing, grabbing some of his stuff from my dresser and heading into the bathroom. He sends me a wink before closing the bathroom door.

I wait until I hear the shower running before I drop my towel and grab my lotion. Quickly, I rub the lotion in before sliding my sleep shorts on and slipping my shirt over my head. I hang up my towel on the hook on my door before grabbing my lotion and heading over to my bed.

I play on my phone until Bradley was done, placing it on the bedside table when I heard the bathroom door open. I, without an ounce of shame, kept my eyes on him as he exited with his chest full on display and sweats low on his hips.

He switches the light off before making his way over to the bed, falling chest first into the mattress. He smiles as his gaze lands on the lavender lotion, "God, you're so good to me."

I playfully roll my eyes before moving from my side of the bed, taking a seat at the bottom of his hips. Letting a generous amount of lotion fall into my hands, I slowly rub them together so it wasn't as cold, "Alright, tell me what happened."

He let out a big sigh as I begin to work my hands into his back muscles, falling silent for a few minutes.

"Today was the first day of training at Top Gun. We were all there so it's clear that it's a pretty huge mission.  Admiral Bates comes in and starts talking about how we're the best of the best, there's no one out there like us, and that it's basically going to come down to just some of us going on this mission. He moves on to talk about our instructor and how he's the best, the finest pilot Top Gun has ever seen, and in walks Pete fucking Mitchell aka Maverick."

My movements halt, "What?"

"I have to spend the next few weeks training with the man that almost ruined my career."

"Well, this is your opportunity to show him what he did was wrong. He obviously had his reasons for what he did, we don't know them, but he did. You're the best of the best so show him that. Don't him get to you, don't let him get under your skin. You're there for a reason B, show him why."

Bradley was silent as he nods.

I knew Maverick was a very tough subject for him, with what he did with Bradley's papers and especially with what happened with his dad even though it was an accident.

"You always know what to say don't you?"

I let out a small laugh as I climb off of him, setting the lotion on the table before climbing under the covers on my side, "It's a gift."

He raises his head off the mattress, "You're insufferable."

I tilt my head as I look at him, gently bringing my fingers up to trace his new mustache, "What's with the porn stache?"

His little smirk returns, "You don't like it?"

A smirk of my own makes its appearance as I shrug, "Looks like a nice place to sit."

The look on his face was priceless, mouth open with his eyes wide.

I never would have thought I would find myself on the beach at almost two in the morning, drunk off my ass with what seems to be the brightest pink face mask known to man with three girls I just met about two weeks ago but here I am.

I had "officially" met Phoenix, Penny, and Lina, Bob's wife, a few days after I had picked up a drunken Jake from The Hard Deck. I guess everyone kept bugging Jake so he finally introduced me to everyone and the girls and I clicked instantly. We had talked the night away as if we had known each other for years.

"Girl are you even awake?"

I slowly lift my head off my fist, nodding, giving Phoenix a tired smile, "Wide awake."

Phoenix lets out a loud laugh, shaking her head at me, "Hangman was right, you are a tired drunk."

I wave her off with my hand before resting my head back on my fist.

Phoenix had texted me, talking about how it was just going to be a girl's night, we'd do some drinking, eat junk food, and gossip. What she neglected to tell me is that we would be drinking like we were twenty-one. I have always been a tired drunk but now that I'm older I just can't hang like I used to. I am struggling to keep my eyes open and find myself beginning to pray that it's almost time for Jake to come get me.

Lina clears her throat before turning to face Penny, "So Pen, we've all been wondering, what's Mav like in the sheets?"

My tired eyes widen as I almost break my neck to look at Penny. Lina wasn't wrong, I know that in the short time I've known the ladies, and been around The Hard Deck, there have been many conversations about the pilot.

Penny's cheeks turn a bit pink before she offers a little smirk, "Let's just say he knows what he's doing."

Lina and Phoenix boo Penny at her lack of response while I laugh, "What about Bob, Lina?"

"I'll have you know while he may be quiet on the outside, my little Bobby is quite the freak in the sheets. We broke our bed the other night because Bob wanted to try this new position where-"

Phoenix cuts Lina off before she could go any further,  making gagging noises, "I cannot, emphasis on CANNOT, hear about my WSO doing kinky shit. I'll never be able to look at him the same."

Penny turns her body towards me, an eyebrow raised, "And what about Mr. Bagman?"

Both Lina and Phoenix nod their heads, leaning forward in their chairs a little, "Yeah, is he as good as he says he is?"

I shrug my shoulders, "I wouldn't know, we haven't slept together."

"Wait for a second, so you're telling us that you two look at each other like that but haven't slept together?"

Even in my drunken state I could tell how sad that sounded. There was no denying that we were hopelessly in love with each other. I've seen the way he looks at me and I'm sure he's seen the loveydovey gazes I shoot in his direction. I truly have no idea why we haven't crossed that line, god knows that I've thought about it.

"Don't get me wrong, there have been many times were we could have but it just never happened."

While the girls start plotting ways to get Jake and I into bed, I let my head lull back. I was struggling to stay awake, the longer I fought it the more the alcohol seemed to be winning. My eyes were on fire the more I held them open.

As my head rolls to the side, I squint my eyes as my gaze lands on the parking lot where I immediately spot Jake's truck.

Phoenix let's out a groan, shoulders slumping as she spot Rooster make his way over with Jake, "The fun police are here."

Jake nodded his head towards the other girls before setting his gaze on me, giving me one of lopsided grins, "Hi Squish."

"Hi Jakey."

I watch as he bends down to grab my discarded shoes, slinging my bag over his should before he turns to look at me, "Ready to go home?"

Slowly nodding, I use his shoulder to push myself up from the chair; my other hand shooting to his head as I found myself stumbling a little bit.

Jake chuckles as he stands up, letting one of his hands fall to the backs of my thighs with his other going to my back and slowly lifts me up, "Ladies, I think it's time that I get this one home. We will see y'all later."

I give everyone a lazy wave goodbye before letting my head fall to Jake’s shoulder, completely forgetting that I had a pink face mask on and it would completely stain his black shirt. I bring one of my hands up to his face, "I missed you Jakey."

"I missed you too Squish."

                                                                         **

My eyes shoot open as I feel a hand on my thigh, "It's just me Squish, come on, we're home."

I slowly step down from his truck, letting out a little groan as my headache begins to set in

We slowly begin to make our way inside, Jake having me make my way up the stairs while he locked everything up. I didn't even make it up halfway before Jake had caught up with me.

Just like I did with him, Jake helped me the rest of the way up the stairs and into my bathroom.

Jake places his hands on my hips, which causes what feels like fire to course through my whole body, "Let's get the pink goo off your face, yeah?"

I nod and watch as he shuffles around my bathroom, grabbing a washcloth before turning the tap on and letting the warm water run onto the cloth, "You know, the girls and I talked about you tonight?"

Jake raises an eyebrow, briefly glancing at me before turning his attention back to ringing out the washcloth, "Oh yeah?"

I close my eyes and tilt my head back as Jake brings the cloth up to start washing my face, "They asked if we had ever had sex and if you were as good as you say you are."

I peak one eye open as I feel Jake’s actions halt, his eyes were trained on me.

"While I said no, what I wanted to say was that no we hadn't but I want you to completely rearrange my insides."

Jakes jaw falls as he slowly blinks at me, "Just how drunk are you?"

I hold my index finger and thumb, closing the space between them, "A little, the nap in the car really did me good."

Jake clears his throat before going back to wiping my face, "You can't say things like that to me, Squish. Especially when you're drunk and might not mean it."

"Oh I mean it Jakey."

Once he was finished with my face, he throws the washcloth to the side before placing his palms flat on the counter on either side of me, "I'm not going to have sex with you when you're drunk."

Take a deep breath in, praying for some confidence, I throw my arms around his shoulders and let my forehead fall against his, "Well if you;re not going to rearrange my insides, then the least you could do is kiss me."

Jake lets his eyes fall to my lips for a brief second before he pushes forward, lips colliding with mine with such force that it almost had me crashing into the mirror. His hands slide up my sides before he locks them around my jaw while my legs wrap around his waist and my hands travel from his shoulders to grip his shirt in my fists.

After what seems like forever, he pulls away but keeps his forehead attached to mine,"Do you know how long I have wanted to do that for?"

I dig my heels into his butt, bringing him closer to me, "Probably as long as I have. Now, can we go cuddle?"

I couldn't blame them for staring, I really couldn't. I truly looked like a hot mess and not the kind of hot mess that is portrayed in movies.

My hair which was supposed to be a messy bun now resembles something similar to a bird's nest.  My shirt, which in reality wasn't even mine, was about three sizes too big which resulted in it looking like I had no pants on. My feet were clad in miss matching socks, one had cactus while the other had Christmas weiner dogs, which wasn't unusual for me but usually, I have tennis shoes on but my feet were shoved into some Nike slides that were about 100 sizes too big for me.

The Hard Deck was absolutely jam-packed and full of people. There wasn't an empty inch in this bar it was so packed, so crammed with people. Everywhere you looked you either saw pilot suits or college guys repping their frat house.

Pushing up onto my toes, I try to find the reason that I was forced to crawl out of bed at almost 1 in the morning. I couldn't see shit due to the number of people so with a heavy sigh I drop down to my feet and being to make my way through the sea of people.

After seemingly going from one side to the other, I finally manage to push my way to the back of the bar.

My eyes immediately landed on a slumped-over Jake who was struggling to keep his head up. I look around and notice that Jake wasn't the only one who seemed to be struggling. There were multiple people who were taking over any available space. One with a Hawaiian shirt was laying down on a piano bench. A blonde-haired man was knocked out on the pool table. A dark-haired man with a killer mustache was standing up against a railing with his head resting on his hand while that hand rested on the tip of a pool stick.

"Hey Squish"

A smile makes its way onto my face as I walk over to Jake, letting him pull me into the space between his legs. Jake wraps his arms around me tightly and rests his forehead against my stomach. I bring my hands to his back, letting my nails scratch up and down the expanse of his back, "Hi, Jakey."

"So you're Squish?"

I turn my head, my gaze landing on a girl with dark hair, and let out a little laugh, "That would be me."

"I'm Phoenix, I'm the one who gave you a call."

I move my hands to his head, gently scratching my fingers against his scalp, "What happened?"

Phoenix lets out a laugh, "We were playing pool and everything was fine until this group of guys came over and boosted about how their frat was the college pool champs and blah blah blah. Well one thing led to another and it turned into a battle of egos, the loser bought drinks. Game after game, the college lost and kept buying stronger and stronger drinks hoping they'd get these guys drunk enough so they could win."

"Did they?"

She shakes her head, "Those guys never stood a chance, even as drunk as these guys are they still whooped those college guys' asses."

I laugh, "Men and their egos."

"So how come he's never brought you around?"

I glance down at Jake, focusing on the feel of his hair through my fingers. We were best friends, and have been for the past couple of years. We've always been closer than normal best friends, acting more like a couple than friends. We haven't crossed that line of being more than friends but I have definitely thought about it and I'm 99 percent sure that he has as well.

"We're a bit complicated."

Before she could say anything else, Jake lets out a groan, his hands moving to squeeze my hips, his forehead coming off my stomach so he could look at me, "Squish, I'm not doing so hot."

I nod, glancing over to Phoenix, "I think that's our cue. Phoenix thank you again for calling me and watching him for me."

She nods, "I hope you come out with us next time."

I smile at her before turning all my attention Jake. I move my hands so they were gripping his arms as he starts to stand. One of his hands holds his head, eyes squeezing shut, while his other arm wraps around my shoulders. I place a hand on his chest to make sure he's up right before securing my arm around his waist.

We slowly begin to make our way to the door. I could tell he was trying to keep most of his weight on his side but he was still heavy as I tried to help him through the crowd.

By some miracle, we made it outside. "Jake where's your car?"

Jake mumbles something inaudible before using the hand that was holding his head to point somewhere to the right. I squint as I looked through the cars before landing on his truck. We slowly start to make our way towards the truck, trying our best to avoid holes that would send us both flying to the ground.

I prop Jake up against the truck before reaching into his pockets to find his keys.

"Baby, if you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask."

I spare a quick glance up at him, taking notice of the drunken smirk that was plastered on his face. I pull the keys out and press the unlock button before opening the door for him. I nod my head towards the cabin, "Hop in."

Once  I made sure he was secure, I close the door and quickly make my way to the driver's side. I jam the key into the ignition before reaching down to grab the button that moves the seat up. The seat is slow to move which causes Jake to laugh, "You've got such short legs baby." I wave him off as I start to pull out of the parking lot.

                                                                        ***

I toss his keys into the bowl by the front door before making sure the door was locked before we made our way to the stairs. I watch from the other side of Jake as he tightly wrapped his hand around the banister, an image of him wrapping his hand around my throat flashing through my mind. I quickly shake the thought away before making sure I had a hold of him as we began our ascent up the stairs.

We slowly made our way to the top of the stairs and into my bedroom, heading towards the bathroom where I help him sit on the toilet. Once I made sure he wasn't going to fall off, I turn to my right and reach across the counter to grab his toothbrush. I push toothpaste onto it before turning back to face him, "Open."

Jake's teeth were probably in the top five of his favorite things about himself. He told me that if it wasn't his hair, muscles, or good looks that pulled the ladies in then it was his teeth. Jake literally made me promise that if he was ever too drunk or incapable of brushing his teeth then I had to do it for him. He couldn't afford to miss brushing his teeth.

It was no lie that Jake was adorable when he was drunk. He always had a little smile on his face, he was touchier than usual, and his eyes were usually half-lidded. His hair would always be a mess because he was constantly running his fingers through it. Him being drunk was a rare sight, he usually could drink anyone under the table.

I rinse off his toothbrush before telling him to stand so he could rinse his mouth out.

I begin to push his shirt up, standing on my tip toes to get up his arms before having him pull it the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor. I glance at his pants before looking up at him, "Think you can manage those all by yourself?"

He smirks, about to let out a comment before noticing my look. He brings his fingers to the tops of his pants while I head out to grab him some water and Advil from downstairs.

When I returned he was already on his side of the bed, eyes closed and mouth parted,  he had pulled my side of the covers back for me.

I place the water and pills on the bedside table before reaching under the light and turning the nob, letting the darkness consume the room.

"Damn little lady, I'd really like to see the other half of that butterfly tattoo."

I place the box cutter in my back pocket before pushing myself up from the ground, letting a playful smile take over my face as I turn around to face the other side of the bar.

Rooster had his forearms resting on the counter, leaning over the counter a little bit. I let my eyes wash over him, taking every bit of him in from the way his Hawaiian shirt clung to his body to the way his aviators sat on his beautiful face.

I wipe my hands on a towel as I make my way over to him, letting my fingers gently pry the sunglasses from his face before leaning up against the counter. I leaned over the counter and hooked a finger into his shirt pocket, tucking his glasses inside before slowly rubbing my nose against his, "In your dreams lieutenant Bradshaw."

His mouth parts slightly as I pull back, our faces still inches apart.

"I thought you weren't due to be stateside until a week."

Rooster clears his throat before offering a little shrug, "Something about a new mission and I guess they needed the best of  the best."

I let out a little chuckle before nodding my head to the right, "So that's why Hangman is here."

He rolls his eyes at me before completely changing the subject, "I went by your house earlier but you weren't there."

Pushing myself off the counter, I grab a glass before filling it with his favorite beer, "Katie needed to borrow my car and Bob was kind enough to offer to drive me to work."

Watching me place the beer in front of him, he furrows his brows, "Bob?"

Nodding my head towards the group of pilots, "He's here for the big secret mission but I've known him for a few years."

Slowly nodding his head, "When is your break?"

I shrug, "Whenever Penny decides to let me have one I guess."

I watch, slightly in awe, as he pushes himself up from the stool, his arms flexing as he does so. My eyes follow his movements as he grabs his aviators from his pocket and places them on the bridge of his nose before he grabs his beer and his signature smirk takes up purchase on his face, "Hey Pen, don't keep my girl from me for too long."

I barely heard what Penny said in response, my attention was solely focused on the Hawaiian shirt that was stretched across broad shoulders as he moved through the crowd.

"I didn't know you and Bradshaw were a thing."

My eyes snap back over to Penny, my head shaking, "We're not, we're just friends. Best friends."

She lets out a laugh, placing a pint of beer on the bar top, "Could've fooled me."

I narrow my eyes at her, "I could say the same about you and Captain Mitchell."

She copies me and narrows her eyes back at me, "Take your break in ten."

As I walked toward the group of pilots, I couldn't help but smile as they all looked so carefree. They had such a dangerous job and with whatever this new mission is about, it's nice to see them laughing and having fun.

I let out a little laugh as I am greeted with a very loud chorus of cheers from the group who probably have had one too many, "Hey guys!"

I pull up a chair to the table Bob was sitting at and watch as Phoenix and Hangman battle it out at the pool table.

Bob and I talk for a little bit before Rooster makes his way over to our table, setting his beer on the table before grabbing my hand and yanking me out of my chair.

I let him lead me over to the piano before he tells me to wait there while he goes and unplugs the jukebox which makes everyone groan.

He comes back over and sits on the bench before he grabs my hand and pulls me around so I was standing in front of the piano, facing him. He makes a show of cracking his fingers and sending me a wink which causes me to shake my head at him.

I let out a laugh as he begins to play and the familiar tune starts to ring out.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain"

It took no time at all for everyone to join in singing, or more like yelling. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as Rooster sings his heart out.