ROOTS 10

Part 4 of: The Lies We Told Each OtheR

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992)

STORY INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html

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Chapter 10: Mission: Impossible

Summary:
"Do you think we can do it?" Bradley asks with evident anxiety.
"I know you can." -his father answers without hesitation- "The problem is not completing the mission, Bradley. The problem is that you return. Ice put me here to at least give you a chance, but the window is small. And every day, it gets narrower."
His son nods. He has also noticed that they spend too much time fighting.
"Because we are not a team. We are competing instead of helping each other. How are you going to solve it?"
"I don't know," Maverick admits.
"You know?" -Sarah's hoarse voice interrupts- "You learn to play as a team."
"Well…"
"Listen to your wife, Maverick. She is a teacher."
 

Marine Corps Air Station Miramar, California, Monday, October 28, 2019

 

On Monday, the squad arrives at the classroom with a good dose of humility. Back pain from hundreds of pushups is now a thing of the past, but the blow to the group's egos will last. Maverick arrived earlier to prepare the presentation, and now he has hidden between two filing cabinets to watch them interact. Watching them settle in, he pays attention to the affinities they reveal when choosing seats.

Javier, Jake, and Brig arrive, talking and sit in the middle of the classroom. From their seats, Machado and Lennox greet several people as they enter, but Seresin ignores everyone. As usual, his attention will be on Lennox until the session begins. Bradley arrives with Natasha and Bob. They go to the front row without thinking. When the pilot of the ill-fated bet, Reuben "Payback" Fitch, enters with his WSO, Jake gives him a hostile look. The stare is so intense that Payback abruptly cuts off his greeting to Coyote, and they sit on the opposite side of the room.

Finally, the other two pilot and WSO couples arrive: Logan "Yale" Lee and Billy "Fritz" Avalone have serious expressions. They go to sit in the second row and take out a notebook that they place between them. In contrast, Vikander is laughing at something her WSO, the famous "Halo" Bassett, tells him. However, as soon as he sees Bradley – whose head is visible from the back of the classroom – something calculating appears in his eyes. He looks around, and when his face reflects confusion, Maverick understands he's looking for him.

It's strange, but he can't ponder the matter. It's time to start.

"Good morning squad," he greets as he leaves his observation post.

Fritz throws out a "Jesus" that makes Yale, Payback, and Fanboy laugh. Coyote looks at him in surprise. Hangman rolls his eyes and snorts. Rooster, accustomed to his father's habit of getting into hiding places, lets out a laugh and is the only one who dares to answer.

"Good morning, Captain."

The reaction annoys Omaha. His suspicions that Bradshaw knows Mitchell's style are confirmed. That means Rooter let Payback open his big mouth and served them on a silver platter to the old man just to curry favor with him. This reeks of nepotism... or something more dramatic, judging by the daggers Hangman throws through his eyes at their instructor.

After he explains to them that they practically have to repeat the climactic sequence of "The Force Awakens," but this time against 9 Gs, surface-to-air missiles, and fifth-generation fighter jets, Maverick observes them carefully. Most of the group have expressions ranging between disbelief and panic. Bradley is a little green, probably thinking he left Blue's warm arms for this madness. Jake… Pete knows that tiniest smile and those narrowed eyes: it's Iceman's concentrated expression, calculating with cold precision how to take down an enemy. It's also the feral joy he used to feel years ago when given a seemingly impossible objective. Is this what his officers have seen before? He is no longer surprised by the rumors of genetic engineering. His son's expression is downright disturbing.

"The first phase of training is learning the route. For today's exercise, we will start easy. You will fly in pairs, a single F-18 and a two-seat F-18, with a simulation of the route in your navigation systems. Maximum ceiling: three hundred feet. Time to target: three minutes. Good luck."

They spent the next three days doing that. Maverick constantly changes the pairings, trying to figure out who fits best. The problem is that it doesn't matter if Hangman goes with Omaha and Halo, Coyote goes with Phoenix and Bob, Harvard goes with Payback and Fanboy, Rooster goes with Yale and Fritz. It always happens more or less the same: they break the 300-foot virtual "sky" or crash into one of the sides of the valley before reaching the base of the mountain. They simply cannot do such precise maneuvers at 860 knots. Well, there is one who can. He just has a chronic problem with teamwork. When Hangman does the route for the third time, now with Payback and Fanboy, his lack of patience is compounded by the fact that he still can't get over how annoying Reuben was on the first day. When the two-seater pilot can't keep up and ends up breaking the "sky," Jake feels a slight satisfaction.

They meet in the conference room every fourth failure, and Maverick forces them to analyze their mistakes. It always starts the same.

"What happened?" -This time, the exercise repetition with Jake, Reuben, and Mickey is on the screen.

Jake can't stop smiling, smug. He knows that one row behind Payback and Fanboy are trying to drill a hole in the back of his neck because of the rage they feel. Whatever!

"I flew as fast as I could. Like my ass depended on it."

"And..." -Maverick gestures towards the screen, where the two-seater F-18 is intercepted by a rocket.

"He put his mission in danger and his wingmen are dead," Rooster completes.

Hangman turns to him with a mocking expression.

"They couldn't keep up." -he runs his tongue over his upper lip- "Almost no one can."

They stare at each other until Maverick clears his throat. Rooster shakes his head.

Omaha looks around the classroom. Does no one else notice what's going on?! They've been like this for three days: the three of them dancing around each other, with their intense glances, their phrases that never mean what they say, but rather something else that only they understand. Sometimes, Neil feels like he's stepped through the looking glass. They are no longer at the Miramar Base preparing a Secret Mission but are involuntary extras in this drama in which Maverick looks at Rooster with tenderness and pride; Rooster returns expressions of devotion that provoke Hangman's rage. Maverick looks at Hangman, all guilty, and the lieutenant shoots him rays of disdain and hurt. Rooster then tries to appease Hangman with a guilty and tired expression.

It's nauseating!

As far as he has seen, only Coyote and Harvard are aware of the strange triangle, but they are firmly on Seresin's side and do not plan to intervene.

The worst thing is that Rooster seems to want to distinguish himself by implementing another flight plan that includes (of course!) going at a snail's pace to avoid crashing. Of course, his first two attempts fail. Significantly, Maverick does not call him out for the breach of protocol. He gets paired with Omaha and Halo for his third practice, and Neil's worst fears come true.

"We are ten seconds behind the schedule." -Halo reports- "I recommend increasing to 920 knots."

"Negative," Bradshaw rejects. "Maintain speed, Omaha."

"Rooster, we'll be late," the pilot responds.

"We will be alive. We will make up time on the straight part of the route."

"We're too far behind," -Neil insists- "We have to accelerate now."

"I tell you that we are going to maintain the current speed. We can do it!"

Spoiler alert: they can't do it. They complete the route in four minutes.

Back at base, Omaha shifts in his seat as they discuss the disaster.

"What happened?" -Maverick's question begins to sound like a song chorus.

Rooster doesn't answer, just looks at him defiantly.

"Why are you dead?" -the captain insists.

"Sir. He is the only one who managed to reach the objective."

Neil wants to bang his head against the wall. Of course, Phoenix would come out to defend his little friend.

"A minute late," -Maverick replies- "Gave the enemy plane time to shoot him down. He's still dead, and probably his team, too."

"You don't know that," Rooster snaps.

"You're not flying fast enough," Hangman says in a tired tone. "The parameter is not three minutes because he likes the number. You don't have a second to waste."

Bradshaw ignores him and just looks at the captain.

"We reached the objective," he repeats stubbornly as if he didn't understand why he was being reprimanded.

"And superior enemy planes intercepted you when they were leaving the mountain," Maverick counters.

"Then we face them."

"To an undetermined number of fifth-generation fighter jets?" -Maverick asks incredulously.

"We'd still have a chance," Bradshaw agrees.

Neil can't help but snort. Beside him, Halo sinks into her seat. Is this guy kamikaze or what? Now, Jake looks at him strangely, too. What's Rooster up to?

"With four F-18s?" -repeats the captain, who also cannot believe what he hears.

"It's not the plane, it's the pilot," Rooster explains.

"Exactly!" -His father interrupts him.

But as soon as the word escapes his mouth, his entire face contorts with fear. Bradley looks at him in shock and disappointment. The squad has fallen silent, the implications of the captain's response uncomfortable.

"There is more than one way to fly this mission, sir," Bradley finally answers.

Jake tilts his head, confused. It doesn't make sense that Bradley wants to turn this impossible mission into a suicide mission. What's happening? There's something he's missing. But Omaha doesn't wait. He's seen his chance to get rid of Rooster, and he'll use it.

"You do not get it!" -all eyes turn to him- "On this mission, one man flies like Maverick here or one man does not return. No offense, Phoenix."

The pilot looks at him with such disbelief that she has no room for anger. It's Bob who answers.

"Yet somehow, you always manage to offend."

Omaha shrugs.

"Forgive my simple and old-fashioned speech. At least I'm not as tolerant as others."

"Lieutenant…"

He realizes that Maverick wants him to shut up, but he won't give him the pleasure. He's risking his and Halo's life on this! He looks back at Bradshaw with mocking eyes.

"We are going to combat, son. At a level that no pilot alive has ever seen, not even him." -he points to the captain- "This is not the time to try to impress anyone."

Bradley stands up in his seat. Omaha's hurtful words have displaced the pain of discovering that his father doesn't want him on the mission.

"What is that supposed to mean?" -he says with a calm voice.

Jake and Brig exchange a worried look. They know that tone: Brad is about to explode.

Omaha looks around the room, ensuring he has everyone's attention before dropping the bombshell.

"Can't I be the only one who knows that Maverick flew with your old man? Or that Maverick was flying with him when he…"

"Rooster!"

But Bradley doesn't hear anything. The world has turned red, like every time someone implies that his father was responsible for the death of Nick "Goose" Bradshaw. He jumps and takes advantage of his height to grab the collar of Vikander's shirt and push him towards the wall.

"You motherfucker!"

Jake and Brig lunge at him but can't stop him. The rest of the group takes a little longer to react. In an instant, the room descends into chaos. Jake notices, confused that Omaha isn't fighting back. In fact, he almost looks happy despite the bump he's sure to have on the back of his head tomorrow. Finally, they push Bradley aside between Hangman, Harvard, Phoenix, and Coyote.

"Neil?" -Halo asks anxiously.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Everything is alright."

"We're done for today," Maverick announces with a trembling voice.

But Omaha won't let him have the last word.

"You know I'm right, he's not up to it," -and he looks at the captain with what he believes is enough complicity to make him understand he knows his dirty secret.

"I said you are dismissed, Lieutenant Vikander."

He lets Halo pull him towards the door.

The rest of the group follows them. In the end, only Bradley and Maverick are left in the room.

"About what I said before..."

"No." -Bradley cuts him off- "Omaha is a bastard, but he's right."

"Right? Please! He's trying to get you off the mission."

"Yes, we have never gotten along. But it is true that doing the route in four minutes won't work. I didn't want to admit it because… Ah!" -he tears his hair- "Is this why there are regulations on family members in the same chain of command?"

Pete's face softens immediately. He sits down in one of the seats in the auditorium and pats the seat next to him.

"Come on, come here."

Bradley obeys him.

"No. I don't want you and Jake here. The thought of sending you on this mission makes me sick. No one should send their children to death. It's not... it's not natural. But we are aviators. There is nothing natural in our lives. You are the best of the best, and I won't deny that Sarah, Ice, and I are proud of it. The problem is that this talent of ours comes with a high price."

"Do you think we can do it?" Bradley asks with evident anxiety.

"I know you can." -his father answers without hesitation- "The problem is not completing the mission, Bradley. The problem is that you return. Ice put me here to at least give you a chance, but the window is small. And every day, it gets narrower."

His son nods. He has also noticed that they spend too much time fighting.

"Because we are not a team. We are competing instead of helping each other. How are you going to solve it?"

"I don't know," Maverick admits.

He is about to say something else, but the text message alert interrupts him.

Ice: I'll be home in 30 minutes.

Ah! Finally, something good is on the horizon. He puts a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Go to rest. Tomorrow will be another day. Yeah?"

 

Kazansky Residence - Mitchell, University City, Wednesday, October 30, 2019

 

The entire neighborhood is decked out for Halloween. Ice catches a glimpse of it as he enters the house, almost running. He doesn't want anyone to greet him or stop him. Once inside, he leans against the door, listens to his driver drive away, and exhales in relief. Four days, four wonderful days of rest he snatched from the clutches of the Navy.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Sarah in front of him, with a tender smile and wrinkles at the corners of her eyes from her happy expression. She wears only an undyed chiffon camisole that covers her mid-thighs. He can see her figure perfectly through the fabric.

"You are at home."

Tom nods and walks towards her as he opens his uniform jacket.

"We're alone?"

She nods and opens her mouth to say something else, but he silences her with a passionate kiss. His right arm narrows her waist while he puts his left hand between her legs.

"Oh! The admiral is energetic."

Energetic? Yes, that's one way of saying it. The prospect that the three of them will finally be together has had him on the brink of combustion since he confirmed the days of leave. You would think that being COMPACFLT has many advantages, but no: tons of paperwork, a lot of time wasted negotiating - between his officers, with the DoD on behalf of his officers, between the DoD and the House's Defense Committee - and very little time for the family. It's not only that Sarah and Pete had to stay in San Diego. With the pace of the office, he wouldn't see much of them in Hawaii either, but at least he would get to a home at night, not the empty mausoleum of his official residence.

He feels the door open behind him and smiles into the kiss.

"Did you start without me?" -Maverick's playful voice leaves no doubt about what he thinks of the image in the hall.

Sarah breaks the kiss. She is all blushing, and her eyes shine with desire.

"Let's go upstairs, okay?" -She extends a hand towards Pete and begins to tow them both- "You two have too many clothes."

A couple of hours later, Tom feels fully satiated for the first time in half a year. He made Sarah and Pete cum with his hands and mouth a couple of times before putting on the strap-on. She had a great time between the two of them, riding him while Mav fuck her from behind. When his wife collapsed, exhausted, Tom made Pete lie on his back to slowly pick him up. He was very gentle with his husband, who still has the bruises from the Darkstar ejection. Gentle but relentless. He didn't stop stimulating his prostate until he came for the third time.

"Stop that smug expression, Kazansky," his husband demands in a sleepy voice.

"Why? -he caresses his back, covered in light sweat- "I have good reasons to feel proud. Six reasons, to be exact."

Pete growls.

"Yes, you are a real stud, love."

He adjusts his body along Tom's left side so the bruises don't hurt.

"Now go to sleep, okay? Tomorrow I have to get up early."

Pete reaches out to touch Sarah, sleeping on the other side. She smacks her lips and turns a little until her face rests firmly on Ice's chest. It's strange, but she says she likes the texture of scarred skin. Tom has no trouble obeying Pete and letting himself drift into sleepiness. He likes to be like this, lying between his spouses. The sound of their breathing is the best sleeping pill in the world.

Ice and Mav wake up very early. Despite the nocturnal activities, their bodies are accustomed to the rhythm of the Navy. They do not get up but speak in whispers hidden under the covers.

"Tell me about our kid."

"He's beautiful, Ice, he's perfect. He reached your height, but he has, well, that untamed air of youth, you know. When he looks at a problem, he bites his lower lip, like you. Watching him fly is a marvel. He's almost as good as his dad."

Ice makes a mocking noise.

"Does that mean he's a better pilot than you?"

"Don't spoil the moment, Kazansky."

"Is Harvard taking good care of him?"

"Of course, he knows he has to. I don't understand why they keep hiding their relationship. They could have told Bradley and Javier, at least."

"I imagine they fear the Navy's anti-fraternization policies. A shared secret quickly ceases to be a secret. Besides, they would have to explain too many things."

"I just wish... Yesterday, the classroom descended into chaos again. I can't get them to work as a team."

"They have been told all their lives that they are the best of the best, why would they want to now?"

"Survival instinct? They know the parameters; they know they can't do it on their own, but they keep sabotaging each other. If they used all that energy to support each other, they would have completed the route at least once."

"You know?" -Sarah's hoarse voice interrupts- "You learn to play as a team."

"Well…"

"Listen to your wife, Maverick. She is a teacher."

Pete puts an elbow on the bed to raise himself up a little. He looks at Tom and Sarah with bright eyes.

"Do you want to go on an undercover mission?"

 

Hard Deck Bar, Black's Beach (north of San Diego), Thursday, October 31, 2019

 

When they arrive at the beach, Mitchell and Coleman are waiting for them. About twenty meters from the water, next to two beach chairs, and have a pair of footballs in their hands.

"Take off your shoes and leave them on the bar terrace!" -Maverick orders them, using his hands as a speaker.

They obey and move barefoot across the sand.

"Good morning, squad." -greets his smiling instructor- "Today we will focus on your teamwork skills. Let's play dogfigth football."

"The what?" -Bob asks with a scared expression and grabs his glasses.

Natasha automatically puts an arm over his shoulders.

Mitchell looks at him for a moment and smiles.

"You're going to keep score for both teams, Bob," he says, even making it sound like he's entrusted with a big task. "Hondo will be the referee."

What he proposes is so different that they look at each other without hiding their astonishment.

First objective achieved: unsettle them.

They draw lots to make two teams. Maverick is in charge of the blue team and, for lack of better criteria, names Rooster as the leader of the red team because he is the oldest. If he enjoys Omaha's shit face a little, well, no one has to know.

Hondo blows his whistle. Passes cross in the air. Bob shouts out the score. After a couple of faulty plays, the group synchronizes. This is not like flying. They are so close that they can hear each other's breathing, shout instructions, or utter exclamations of admiration. It's easy to release tension as they run through the wet sand, trying to catch someone else's ball or protect the defensive line. Soon, almost the entire squad forgets that this is a "combat exercise." Football is something they share and takes them back to their childhood.

Without fuss, Maverick hands over his team's leadership to Jake, who - like Ice - has an almost instinctive awareness of his surroundings and the ability to use each member's specific strengths. After a particularly elegant play, Seresin lets out a happy howl, kisses the ball, and throws it back. Harvard, Yale, and Fritz, who were following him, threw themselves to the ground as if they had been hit by a bomb expansive wave.

Natasha and Callie have to lean on each other to keep from falling over laughing.

Not everything is perfect. Javier made the Rooster team and seems more interested in throwing himself at his instructor than in the score. He pushes him into the sand even when he doesn't have the ball. In one of those, he touches him on one of the sides still tender from the Darkstar's, and Maverick goes to the ground. Hangman looks at his father lying in the sand, stops, and helps him up. It's the first physical contact they've shared since August 2008. Maverick can't help but make a brief sound of surprise. Jake looks at his clasped hands as if scared of himself and runs to Brig.

A little sore, Maverick decides that enough is enough and slowly leaves the playing area.

"Bob, your turn," he orders over his shoulder.

The WSO looks up from his notebook.

"The what?" -but he doesn't have time to make up an excuse. Hangman is on top of him, dragging him to the wet sand and putting a ball in his hands.

"With your life, Robert," he warns and turns to bark instructions at the rest of the team.

Maverick walks over to where Penny pretends to watch the show in a beach chair, wearing oversized sunglasses and a glass of lemonade in her hand. He grabs the shirt draped across the back of the empty chair next to hers, puts it on, sits down, and groans.

"Time passes, we're getting older..." she sings.

"Hahaha, you're an SNL-level comedian, Penny."

She hands him a glass of lemonade.

"Please hydrate yourself. I can feel Ice and Sarah's anxiety from here."

He turns as if he wants to speak in her ear. Actually, he looks back. He can't see them, but he knows they're behind the bar's tinted glass windows. He waves his hand, and Penny's phone vibrates almost immediately.

"Uh! Does the great Iceman use emojis?"

She shows him the message "🧑🍼🏃🥹🥲🤩" He purses his lips.

"I doubt he knows what half of those doddles mean."

"There are five," she says smilingly.

Pete opens his mouth to say something else, but a shadow falls over him as his friend's face drains off. He turns around and discovers Cyclone. The glasses hide his eyes, but his lips reveal perplexity and displeasure.

"What is this?"

Maverick bites back the desire to send him back to his sterile office. He knows that if he doesn't play the game of respecting the chain of command, Simpson will kick him out of the mission.

"Dogfight football, sir. Offensive and defensive at the same time."

The vice admiral nods. He knows Maverick knows what he's doing and wants to cover his bases, too.

"And who wins?"

"Oh, they stopped keeping track a long time ago."

The smiling tone of the response makes the Miramar commander's bitter expression more evident.

"This detachment has to train, captain. Every available minute counts."

"Yes sir."

"Then why am I watching this ridiculous show?"

"You asked me to make a team, sir. There's your team."

Just then, the squad picks up Bob and places him on Bradley's shoulders.

"Bob! Bob! Bob!" -they chant as the WSO looks around ecstatically and raises the football above his head.

Simpson snorts, taking off his glasses to look directly at him. The vice admiral has an expression of disbelief and disgust that Pete doesn't know if it's directed at him or at his methods. Frankly, he doesn't care, but he also does him the courtesy of taking off his sunglasses. He gives him back the look of quiet confidence he has honed over decades of dealing with commanders like him. Cyclone's eyes change for a split second, betraying his amazement at the captain's self-confidence.

"Tomorrow," he says as a threat and leaves.

"I think Simpson and my dad would get along," Penny says, raising her glass of lemonade to her lips.

Pete doesn't answer.

After two hours, the squad finally tires and head towards their captain.

"Do you no longer feel like throwing at each other's throats?"

The group exchanges amazed glances. Yeah. All the racing and playing have drained their aggressiveness. They're still an extremely competitive group, but they've seen what they can do when they move as a squad instead of trying to push each other out.

"Okay," Maverick nods and claps his hands. "Lunch will be in a few minutes." He gestures toward the back porch of the Hard Deck, where Penny and two employees are serving a buffet. "But I recommend you go through the fresh water shower first."

The group runs towards the booths. Hondo winks at Mitchell and follows them at a more leisurely pace.

They put two tables on the terrace so they don't have to separate. At first, it can only be heard a request to "pass me the salad" or "Hey, don't eat all the tamale," but after they finish their first courses, the second round is calmer, and the conversation becomes more lively.

"Have you known Penny for a long time, captain?"

"Maverick, please, Payback. Yes, a long time ago. A Navy ball in, 1980?"

"Yeah. Some old man's promotion ceremony. I was crazy for one of the lieutenants to get me out of there."

"What are you saying? You only had eyes for me, Penny."

"Yes, of course," -she looks at the rest of the group- "He promised to take me flying in an F-14 if I let him kiss me."

"Oh! How old were you?" -Halo asks in a casual tone.

"I was fifteen, Lieutenant Bassett, and Maverick was twenty-one," Penny answers dryly, "but they were different times. I was the daughter of an Admiral. Other lieutenants wanted something more than a kiss from me. So Maverick and I covered each other."

"Covered for each other?" -Payback repeats.

Penny gives them a quizzical look.

"Ah! Do you think the rainbow flags hanging in the bar are in solidarity?"

Omaha chokes. Rooster lowers his head to hide an amused smile.

Hondo redirects the conversation by asking Yale and Fritz about the last ship they were stationed on. The pilot and WSO launch into a recount of what the adventure of installing a new weapons system was like with the manual in Portuguese.

"Portuguese?" -Phoenix is horrified

"It's classified." -Fritz replies with an expression of "I can't believe it either."

Afterward, they share a round of anecdotes about their respective careers. Not all of them are about aviation. There are hilarious interactions or witty pranks. When Harvard and Hangman's turn comes, the former takes the floor to praise his partner's skill but avoids mentioning the "Maki Incident." Realizing his strategy, Seresin lets go of the tension in his shoulders and smiles openly.

"...and he had to eat the cornbread with ketchup," Lennox concludes, putting his arm over Jake's shoulders.

Half the table is doubled over with laughter. The other looks at the couple in disbelief.

Bob looks at Hangman for confirmation.

"Really…?"

The blonde nods very seriously.

"The worst combination of flavors in the world."

Amelia appears at that moment with two more jugs of lemonade.

"Thank you, honey," Maverick says.

The girl smiles at him and briefly hugs him before returning inside the bar.

The squad stares at him.

"She is…?"

"My daughter," Penny explains.

"But you have a son, don't you, captain? I remember when I entered the USNA, a small group was waiting for Mitchell III as if he were a rock star."

Rooster and Harvard look at Coyote as if they can't believe his boldness. Hangman closes his eyes, embarrassed. The rest of the table has expressions ranging from curiosity to discomfort due to the personal nature of the question.

Maverick doesn't flinch.

"You were misinformed, Machado. I don't have one son. I have four children."

"Four?" -Javier looks at Jake in surprise. He averts his eyes while biting his lips.

"Do they fly like you?" Fanboy says with a dreamy voice.

Jake gives him a poisonous look. That guy has a crush on his father...

"No, they fly better than me." -assures the man proudly.

Phoenix turns to Bradley and observes him. Something dangerous shines in her eyes.

"No one from your families flies?" -Pete looks meaningfully at Brig, and he takes the clue.

Somehow, Brig makes the story of his uncles Hollywood and Wolfman move toward the importance of maintaining engines well. Rooster takes it from there and starts singing poetry about his Bronco. Soon, the entire table has forgotten about Mitchell's brood, arguing about classic cars, engine restoration, and the superiority of the manual transmission.

When everyone is gone, Pete starts to clean up, but Amelia comes out and pushes him into the restaurant with that strange attitude of exasperation teenagers have when faced with peculiar adult problems.

"Those two have been crying all morning. I don't know what Hangman did, but I hope you make him wash dishes until 2050."

"I'll keep it in mind."

Inside, Sarah and Tom have the tired expressions of those who have cried their eyes out. They hug him.

"Thanks love."

"Hey, Ice, do you want to come back on the motorcycle with me?"

 

Lennox and Seresin's apartment, Miramar Station, Thursday, October 31, 2019

 

The question comes suddenly when he is drying off after a long shower to get rid of the sand from the football game.

"Do you want to make out?"

Brig turns around slowly. The proposal makes him happy, but it is unusual. They have been having sex for less than a year, or the closest thing to sex that an asexual man unable to have erections can offer. For Brig, it is a treasure. Until June of last year, he planned to spend his entire life masturbating in the bathroom and enduring the pitiful looks of half of humanity. That changed when they saw a contingent of asexual militants at the 2018 Queer Pride March.

It was like an epiphany.

They found a vocabulary that did not describe Jake as lacking or defective. His partner has always struggled with what he believed to be extreme singularity, something he thought to be another sequel to his traumatic childhood. Discovering that he is not alone in his disinterest in "fluid exchange," that it is part of a community, has been fantastic for his self-esteem.

Brig will not deny that he has benefited from this. Reading educational materials and participating in a couple of private forums allowed Jake to understand the difference between sexual orientation and sexual attraction and (finally, thank God!) recognize his homosexuality. When he confessed that he was "kind of in love with him" and wanted to "invite him on a date," he almost fell on his ass laughing.

"Jake, honey, you and I are practically married."

He looked at him with her green eyes wide, full of fear and hope. They were in Nantucket to spend Thanksgiving at Uncle Chipper's house. The Piper family house is big - and a little humid - so they had a room just for the two of them. Jake was sitting on the bed, but he insisted that Brig sit in the only chair in the room.

"But it's not good. I've been waiting for months for you to tell me that you can't stand the way I control you anymore. You aren't obligated to do anything just because he saved your life, Brig. What I did after Maki was wrong, I know it. I want… I want you to freely consider whether what I can offer you is enough…"

But Brig interrupted him. It was one thing to accompany Jake on his journey of self-discovery as an asexual person and another to let him be tortured by distorted ideas about his past.

"Jake, I've been in love with you since I was fourteen, probably before."

"What?"

"Do you remember the first Christmas we spent together at the USNA?"

"Yeah?" -of course, he remembers.

It was the first time since leaving home that Jake didn't feel empty or lonely. Brig was there, and for a few days, he wanted nothing outside of his company and his hugs. The intimacy they shared set the tone for their interactions until Maki's horror threw him into the abyss.

"On December 27, there was a snow storm, and you said..."

"I said that I could live like this, in your arms, that I would always be perfectly satisfied with you holding me for no other reason than to keep me warm... Oh!"

He looked at him with sudden surprise. Brig returned a look of amused tenderness.

Jake began to study the bed cover with great concentration, deeply ashamed of how he ignored his partner's feelings for almost a decade. Brig moved from the chair to the bed, put a finger on his chin, and forced his face up.

"Jake, listen to me, okay? If anyone in this relationship has been gaslighted, it is you. You never hid your disinterest in sex from me, I knew what having a relationship with you entailed. On the other hand, I never told you my feelings, I just took advantage of the excuse of our "friendship" to sneak into your life. I let the rest of the world assume we were a couple. I enjoyed what you offered me without…"

"Weren't you jealous?" -he interrupted him.

"Jealous?"

"From Victoria, Maya, and Hannah. Oh God! I made you choose two of my fake girlfriends!"

"Of course, I wasn't jealous. You said it. They were exercises to establish credentials of heterosexuality. Jake…"

"How have you lived all this time without...?" -He made a vague gesture towards his crotch.

Brig burst into laughter.

"We live together, but we are not Siamese, honey. I do what millions of people do: use shower time."

That seemed to surprise and disgust him in equal measure.

"Do people masturbate in the shower?!" -Then his eyes widened when he realized that…- "In the showers of the aircraft carrier?"

"That's a discussion for another day." -he cut him off- "The important thing is that I love you, Jake, just the way you are. And I'm thrilled that now that you learned about asexuality, you still want..."

But Jake “Hangman” Seresin was not the man to lament about the past.

"Shut up!"

He grabbed him by the collar of his sweater to kiss him. He felt nothing special when he touched his lips, but Brig's ecstatic expression made the epidemiological risk worth it.

"So, I think it's appropriate that we make it official. Do you want to continue being my boyfriend, Brigham Lennox?"

A fantastic negotiation process followed. Jake decided he should explore how far they could go in physical sexual activities. Some things simply changed meaning, like cuddling under a blanket and holding hands while walking down the street. Others came slowly, like kissing or lying naked.

Sex is not a casual thing for Jake, and for that reason, today's request is unusual. They're in the middle of a demanding workout, and usually his boyfriend - who's a competitive bastard - doesn't want to have sex if he can't fully concentrate on it.

"And what's that for?"

"I noticed how you looked at me on the beach."

"I was looking at you like always," he says while finishing drying himself.

He puts the towel on the counter and reaches for his boxers, but Jake stops him by grabbing his hand.

"No," -he insists with a flirtatious smile and approaches him slowly- "You were looking at me so much that Payback and Fanboy got uncomfortable. Not to mention the bastard from Omaha."

"Could it be... We haven't been to the beach in, what, two years? I'm not going to apologize for admiring my boyfriend's body," – and he revels in the word because he still can't believe he can say it aloud.

Jake raises an eyebrow, turns, takes two steps towards the bathroom door without letting go of his hand, and looks at him over his shoulder.

"Look at you, all possessive and smug. Anyone would say that your boyfriend is something special."

"Excuse me?" -Brig follows him into the hallway, sticks close to his back, puts a possessive arm around his waist, and brushes their cheeks- "Let me tell you, my boyfriend is a decorated aviator, he's the youngest graduate in the history of Top Gun and makes a hell of a taniga."

"It sounds like your boyfriend is a treasure," Jake says mockingly as they enter the room.

He falls onto the bed and drags Brig with him. He stays very still, enjoying the weight on his back. They've been doing this for years, the difference is that a few months ago, they started doing it naked.

Brig sighs happily and strokes Jake's side with his fingertips. It reaches the waist and goes back up to the shoulder to continue along the muscular arms. He rests his hands on the bed and stands up to kiss the back of his neck, shoulder blades, and spine. Jake folds his arms and puts them under his head, looking at him over his shoulder with a longing, slightly shy expression.

"Come here."

Brig turns to fall on the mattress next to Jake and lets the other put a hand on the back of his neck with which he pulls him. The first kiss on the lips is tentative - Jake is still a little dubious about the merits of the saliva exchange - but an appreciative noise tells him he can move on. He begins to use his tongue while letting his hands roam over Jake's torso, caressing his nipples and playing with his navel.

In response, Jake removes his hand from the back of his neck and begins to run down Brig's body. His fingertips trace random patterns across his back, chest, and abdomen. They stop abruptly at the waist.

Brig opens his eyes in surprise.

"You're shaking. What's happening?"

Jake looks at him intensely for one, two, three seconds. Then his face writhes and thick tears begin to flow from his eyes.

"Jake?"

Brig hugs him and feels how the broad, muscular body trembles in his arms from the force of his sobs.

"What if I'm wrong?"

"Wrong? Calm down, honey, you have to calm down. Do you want a glass of water?"

"No! Don't go!"

"Okay, I'm not going anywhere. Just breathe, okay?"

"I have lost eleven years, Brig, eleven! I don't know my siblings anymore, and I can barely talk to my father. What's the point? She doesn't love me. She never loved me."

"She?" -he asks, but he has the unpleasant feeling that he knows who he is referring to.

"Rachel" -ah, he was right- "I did everything possible to make myself visible, to make her feel proud. Not a rumor, not a sign. On the other hand, my father proclaims without blushing that he has four children. Do you realize what that means?"

"That he counts Sam and Sean as his?" -and that does seem a little strange.

"No! That he counts me!"

"Of course, he counts you! You are his son."

But the response only makes the intensity of the crying increase. Brig massages his back and lets the episode take its natural course. About fifteen minutes later, the sobs have subsided to hiccups. He pulls away slightly and takes Jake's face in his hands. He wipes his snot and tear streaks with the edge of the sheet and asks very gently.

"Honey, what did you think had happened at the house in San Diego all these years?"

Jake looks at him with still-wet eyes that reflect guilt and confusion.

"That they would learn to live without me. That they would forget me."

"They are your family, Jake. How are they going to forget you? Did you forget them? Do you think Bradley forgot you? That Sarah forgot you? Tell me the truth. All these years trying to be the best and you never wondered what it would be like to share those triumphs with the rest of your family?"

"Yes, I did wonder. But I always told myself that it was a useless question. I was the one who turned my back on them, wasn't it? Sean was a child when I left. He had already spent almost half his life without me. As for my father, I was sure Kazansky would comfort him for the loss." -concludes bitterly.

Brig snorts, shocked again by his boyfriend's fucked up perception of the world. He knows it's called "Adoption Trauma" and that thanks to that, Jake is a great actor who is obsessed with the identity of his biological mother, and on bad days, he thinks the world would be a better place without him. Luckily, those bad days are few and far between. Most of the time, he just acts like a bastard to maintain emotional distance and tries hard to be the best to mask his low self-esteem.

Jake explained it to him very quietly one night in Moapa Valley at Christmas 2010. He also talked to him about the years of therapy. He told him with fear as if he feared that Brig would walk away because of it. Although Brig already knew. Not the name of the problem but the symptoms. In August 2008, two days after Jake renounced the Mitchell name, Sarah Kazansky showed up at the house to give him a hell of shovel talk. She told him in quite precise terms that she knew about his crush and that if he abused Jake… "Thousands of people die every year in car accidents," she commented with a beatific smile and hard eyes.

Brig doesn't care. He loved Jake before he knew all that. He loves Jake after a decade of living together. He learned the hard way that the best way to deal with his insecurities is to confront him with the truth.

"I know there is bad blood between you and Kazansky, but that man loves you."

His boyfriend makes a little noise in disbelief.

"Kazansky almost died after you left, Jake."

"Please!"

"For real. Sean thought they would get divorced because of the fight that broke out after you left. Ten days later, Kazansky's secretary called Sarah. Sean and Sam listened over the kitchen extension. It was to tell her that he was eating solid food again. The cook at the Bahrain Base wanted to put him on a high-calorie diet to compensate for the weight he had lost in those days and needed to know his preferences so he wouldn't make a fuss about it. I have had a thousand minor run-ins with your family over the years, and they always ask me about you. They are hungry for you. They are waiting for you."

"To exact revenge."

"No! Why would you say that?"

"Because I betrayed them!"

"You didn't betray anyone! You were a scared boy who made a hasty decision. They're your family, Jake. They love you just the way you are."

But Jake jerks away from his arms, stands up, and paces around the room with his hands on his head.

"If they loved me as I am, they would tell me the truth."

Brig can barely contain the growl of repulsion that rises in his chest. Rachel's ghost always comes between Jake and happiness.

"What true?" -Jake stops and looks at him, surprised- "No, seriously, what true? What do you hope to find? You said it, it's been eleven years. It's pretty evident that Rachel can't or won't get close. Maybe she's even dead. Have you thought about it? Meanwhile, Sarah, who is your mother and is alive, only gets a call when you're delirious, and then you go back to acting like you don't know her. You had to be blind not to see the pain in her eyes when you ignored her in Philadelphia six months later."

Jake's face reflects uncertainty and fear again. Brig extends an arm towards him.

"Come here."

His boyfriend obeys and goes back to bed. Brig wraps them in several blankets until he builds a warm, soft cocoon. He has Jake's back pressed against his chest and the palm of one hand over his heart.

"I didn't expect you to try to use sex as a distraction, you know?"

"It's... that's how I always understood sex. It is the second best source of distraction after alcohol. I thought that if you made me feel good, I would forget that my father... that I..."

Brig places a soft kiss on the back of his neck.

"Honey, tonight, we are not going to solve that. Frankly, I'm uncomfortable talking about your father while we're naked." -that gets a brief laugh from Jake- "But until now, sex has been something pure between us. Don't change that, please."

Jake turns inside the cocoon and kisses Brig in a burst of tremendous passion.

"Okay. No more sex as a distraction. Promise."

 

INDEX: http://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/the-lies-we-told-each-other-4-roots.html