Happy Together 04

Austin, 2013: Let's share secrets (I)

Summary:

"I need your help," Jake finally announces.
Bradley looks at him surprised. He and Jake aren't…
"You ask your friends for help, Hangman. Machado is your friend."
"I can't," the blonde admits in a frustrated voice and sips his lemonade.
That definitely gets his attention.
"Because?"
"I need you to be sober to tell you," and he pushes the lemonade in his direction.

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Fandom: Top Gun (Movies)

Relationships: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Pete "Maverick" Mitchell  

Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Rick "Hollywood" Neven, Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe, Original Child Character(s), Original Characters

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, Age difference, Grammarly is My Wingman, DADT Repeal, Homophobia, Jake "Hangman" Seresin Has Bad Parents

INDEX: https://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/happy-together.html

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Jake sits in his booth without asking permission, two glasses of lemonade in his hands. Bradley thinks he should be amazed but remembers that this is Seresin. There's something in him. He has an uncanny ability to locate Bradley anywhere (Natasha finds it hilarious). Maybe he doesn't say hello because things have been pretty weird since the weekend they spent in Tokyo last spring. Bradley doesn't know how to handle this thing he feels; he just knows he shouldn't feel it.

"I need your help," Jake finally announces.

Bradley looks at him surprised. He and Jake aren't…

"You ask your friends for help, Hangman. Machado is your friend."

Now it's Jake who has a surprised expression, and despite himself, he feels his chest swell with pride. He hasn't completely lost control, okay. With any luck, Jake will leave and not come back until he wants to fuck. That's the only thing that connects them.

"I can't," the blonde admits in a frustrated voice and sips his lemonade.

That definitely gets his attention.

"Because?"

Jake stares at him, clearly annoyed by his resistance. Bradley doesn't know whether to be happy for not making things easy for Hangman or uneasy about the show of trust that implies being Coyote's replacement.

"I need you to be sober to tell you," and he pushes the lemonade in his direction.

Bradley looks suspiciously at the glass and instinctively squeezes his whiskey. He had carefully planned this leave week in New York: eat, get drunk, go to the hotel, dream about Maverick, cry, and repeat on a loop until it was thirty-six hours before returning to the ship. Jake can't just barge into his life and demand... But he can't turn to Coyote... Screw it!

The lemon juice is poured down in one go, in deliberately long gulps. The light and wonderful mental haze that alcohol provided disappears. Fuck the power of citrus! He leaves the empty glass on the table, burps, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So?"

"My mothers have died. Yes, all three at the same time. In a hunting accident. Don't bother giving me your condolences," he warns him with his hand raised. "They stopped talking to me when they discovered I had applied to the Naval Academy behind their backs. I haven't been home for ten years. But now it turns out the family needs me because the sea will dry up before the Seresin clan gives a less-than-perfect image at a public event," he lets out a bitter laugh, "and the funeral counts as a public event. One which none of their children can miss. I can't go alone," he admits bitterly. "I know I'll lose my temper if I go alone. I can't tell Javier because his wives would go, and I don't want to..." he sighs. "María Celeste and María José work for a subsidiary of the Seresin conglomerate. I can't take the risk of putting them on my family's radar. So there's only you left. I know what we have is casual, and family drama is not part of the contract, but they can't hurt you, and I trust that you won't hurt me. So please come with me to Austin for the funeral and the reading of the will."

Bradley doesn't say anything because he's not sober enough yet. He reaches for Jake's lemonade, and he gently pushes the glass in his direction. He is more confident in his response after the second dose of citric acid.

"Friend or boyfriend?"

"Huh?" Jake blinks, confused.

"Do they know you're gay? Am I going as a friend or as a boyfriend?"

As far as Bradley is concerned, if Jake is afraid to put the Machados on his family's radar, they're a bunch of bastards, and he'll be happy to give them a hard time. From the way Jake's face goes from resignation to malicious interest, the possibility of fulfilling his duty to the clan and screwing them over at the same time hadn't occurred to him.

"I suppose," he answers slowly, "that nothing is more appropriate for a Seresin in the Navy than get himself a nepobaby."

Bradley smiles, proud. He often feels his last name is a burden. He never expected that he could instrumentalize it to make Jake happy. Seeing him smile with that Machiavellian glint in his eyes feels good. Damn, this is the kind of thing he vowed to avoid. It'sn't enough with Mav? Now he's going to let this alpha break his heart, too? Too late.

"What time are we leaving?"

"I have tickets for tomorrow, Saturday, at eight hundred hours, at JFK. The funeral will be at 1600, and the reading of the will be on Monday at ten hundred," Jake pauses and looks him up and down. Whatever he sees satisfies him enough that he doesn't blurt out any of his usual hurtful comments. "I'll text you the flight details."

And he leaves.

There is nothing unusual in his attitude. Neither of them is a fan of unnecessary words. It shouldn't hurt. Bradley shakes his head, looks sadly into his half-finished whiskey, and pulls out his phone.

They answer on the third ring.

"Uncle, listen..."

They barely talk during the flight. Jake, ever prepared, booked a car at the Austin airport.

"A Mercedes?" Bradley can't help but look at the shiny car with discomfort.

"This is a theater, love," Jake answers as he puts his bag in the back seat and gets behind the wheel.

Bradley nods.

They have been together for almost six hours between security, flight, landing, driving to the city, and checking into the hotel. They have never spent so much time together without having sex. The tension accumulated during the trip explodes as soon as they close the bedroom door.

Bradley drops his backpack and pushes Jake against the wall to kiss him hard. The other grunts with satisfaction and begins to pull at his shirt to grab his nipples. Bradley pulls back a little to look at him. Jake's pupils are dilated with desire, his cheeks are flushed, and his aroma... He could choke on that smell of fresh grass!

"Are you going to stare at me, Rooster , or are we going to fuck?"

"Fuck, fuck."

They finish taking off their pants with feverish hands and stumble to the sofa in the suite. Bradley sits, and Jake climbs on top of him. They keep kissing. Bradley leaves the blonde's lips to nibble his neck and his ears.

"Don't leave marks on me," Jake gasps with some practical sense. "We have... The funeral... It's not appropriate..."

"Fuck it!" he spanks him. "You're mine! I want every omega in Texas to know why they don't have a chance with the Seresin heir."

Jake pulls away to look him in the eyes, surprised. Of course, things are often said in the heat of passion, but Bradley never let his possessiveness come to the surface before. He will definitely have to cut things off after this. Or not? Because Jake is smiling, playful.

"Really? You want them to know that I'm your bitch?" and he moves his hips, making their erections rub.

"You're no one's bitch." as long as Jake thinks this is just a game, he can safely be honest. "My family has a list of obedient bitches, if I want. The point is, you're a wolf, like me."

He grabs him by the back of the neck with one hand to kiss him again, and with the other, he grabs both of his cocks and starts masturbating them. He feels Jake's hands tremble on his shoulders. The air is filled with the aroma of sexual pheromones. The mix of smells is almost perfect. The only thing missing is... Bradley comes with a rattle. Jake lets out an unusually high-pitched moan, and the orgasm shakes him.

They stand very still, foreheads pressed together, breathing ragged, sticky semen running between Rooster's fingers and the skin of their bellies down their thighs to the floor. It's dirty and intimate. He doesn't want it to end. He doesn't want to open his eyes and find Jake looking at him with that cold indifference he always shows after sex. He's never been teased but realizes he doesn't like his cuddling habit right afterward.

"If I don't get up soon, my legs will cramp, Brad," the blonde whispers in his ear.

Bradley lets him go because, at least today, he was gentle about breaking the spell. Jake always jumps to wash away the remains of semen without saying a word. Not today. Today, he stands up and offers him a hand.

"Shall we shower together?"

They order lunch from room service. Jake opens his laptop and shows him photos so he can get a basic idea of the family structure.

"I'm the youngest and the only alpha. My omega sisters are Elizabeth, Catalina, and Isabel." he can't help but raise an eyebrow questioningly. "Yes, they were named after the queens. No, they didn't name me after any king, but after my grandfather. It was going to be Jacob Seresin III."

"Ah."

While Jake continues explaining to him about arranged marriages, nephews and nieces he doesn't know, and old family feuds or with other clans that affected Texas politics in the last half-century, he cannot contain his melancholy. It must be showing on his face because Jake cuts off his explanation about how half of the state's infrastructure ended up under his clan's control and looks at him a little anxiously.

"What?"

He debates for a moment, telling half the truth: that all of this sickens him. But so far, he has been brutally honest and has done well. It doesn't matter. Jake doesn't like him, but he's not cruel.

"I'm thinking that we've known each other for five years, and we've been sleeping for two, but I didn't even know you had sisters."

Jake stares at him, bewildered.

"There a Wikipedia page about us?" he says weakly.

"I'm not a stalker or a reporter, Hangman." he decides it is better to leave the matter. "Look at the time! Let's get dressed."

They arrive at the cemetery fifteen minutes before the ceremony begins. Now, the rented Mercedes makes sense. The street is full of luxury cars. Between the grave and the street, there are small groups of people. The clothing style clearly distinguishes the invited elite from drivers and security personnel. Their uniforms are a clarion call in the middle of the sea of black, and they immediately become the focus of attention. Jake wants to walk to his family immediately, but Bradley stops him.

"Wait," he says, nodding at the approaching car, a black suburban with a Navy license plate.

"What…?"

The car stops, and a lieutenant hurries out of the passenger seat to open the back door and stand at attention. Bradley really enjoys, perhaps too much, the look of surprise and admiration on Jake's face when he sees Vice Admiral Rick "Hollywood" Neven, his beta, Vice Admiral Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe, and his omega Henry descend. The two officers wear dress uniforms that shine in the sun. The omega wears a discreet black suit with an exquisite cut that screams money.

Hollywood immediately turns to the couple.

"Nephew," he says to Bradley casually but loud enough for the bystanders to hear, "Lieutenant Seresin."

"Uncle," Rooster greets him with a nod, then looks at Wolfe and Henry, who are a few steps behind, in the most traditional way, "Uncles."

"Vice Admiral Neven, Vice Admiral Wolfe, Mr. Neven," Jake greets and clicks his heels.

"We are very sorry for your loss. Your mothers were a great pillar of this community," Henry says with a soft voice and a contrite expression, his blue eyes a little moist.

Jake blinks once, twice, and swallows dryly. As always, he can go along with whatever and answers with just the right amount of shyness and gratitude.

"Thank you, Mr. Neven."

Henry smiles, steps forward, and puts a hand on his cheek. Some in the audience of (supposedly disinterested) guests and employees gasp in surprise.

"Please, Jake. I told you that you could call me Henry. We are family, right?"

Hollywood clears his throat. Perfect in his role of the traditional alpha allways uncomfortable with public displays of affection. He offers his arm to Henry and looks at his nephew's partner.

"Lead the way."

As they walk towards the grave site, Jake becomes thoughtful.

"Why?" -he whispers.

"Because you are my boyfriend, Seresin."

The blonde nods, gives him a minimal smile of gratitude, and extends his hand in silence. They arrive in front of the rest of his family with their fingers intertwined. As he had warned him, the faces of his three sisters and six brothers-in-law are hieratic masks. It is impossible to know if they are hurt by the death of their mothers or if they are celebrating the secret that the damn old women finally kicked the bucket.

"Jacob," greets an alpha with a dark brown beard with some gray hair.

"Julius," Jake greets dismissively.

This is Elizabeth's alpha, the eldest. According to Jake, he is a distant cousin, chosen because he carries the family name and doesn't mind being a puppet controlled by his wives. The beta of the marriage is a redhead of Polish origin, who was already Julius's lover when he began the theater of his courtship of the first of the Seresin omegas. The matriarchs gave her two options: pass her support to Elizabeth or disappear on the next yacht ride she took. The rest is history.

"This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, fighter pilot of the United States Navy, my boyfriend," and he smiles, the bastard.

Bradley sees how nine pairs of eyes, the only expressive part of those nine faces petrified by education and Botox, rapidly reflect surprise, offense, and disgust, only to quickly return to disdain.

"I don't know how..." Catalina starts to say, but her brother cuts her off.

"His family also decided to come to pay their respects." he gestures vaguely to where Hollywood is staring at them with hard eyes. "After the service, I will introduce you to Vice Admiral Rick Neven, his beta, Vice Admiral Leonard Wolfe, and his omega, Henry," he says with an innocent tone and cruel smile.

That silences them, of course. Bradley knows Hollywood and Wolfman are celebrities in Texas, although not because of their military merits, but because they married Henry Ruth, one of the most beautiful omegas in the United States in the eighties. Henry won the 1982 Omega Texas Beauty Contest and became a finalist in Omega America. He had a fairly successful modeling career after that. His wedding to the couple of aviators was covered in society magazines across the country in 1988. Even if the family did not recognize the former model - somewhat doubtful - the uniforms loaded with stars and medals of the two vice admirals are impossible to ignore.

Their eyes change again. Now, there is resentment in some and a grudging respect in others.

"Let's sit down," Elizabeth orders through clenched teeth.

As tradition dictates, there are seats for the omega daughters and their alphas, and their betas remain standing one step back, with a hand on the shoulder of each spouse. Jake's seat is closest to the priest, because, although he is the youngest, he is the alpha. Bradley stands behind him and puts his right hand on his left shoulder, as befits a partner. He's not exactly surprised when he notices Jake trembling under his hand. The absolute silence he kept about this past life, his decision to ask him for help, the vulnerability when they had sex in the hotel. Jake is on the edge.

He does not listen to empty words about faith, absolution, and rebirth of the flesh. Those women who go down to the grave in their elegant coffin for three - united in death as in life - do not deserve his sympathy. He highly doubts they will receive forgiveness from heaven if Jake was kicked out of the house for being gay. Because no one disinherits an alpha son for joining the Navy.

"I know I'll lose my temper if I go alone," he told him yesterday in New York, and he understands why. He knows his lover well and realizes that this matters to him. This family that rejected him still has power over Jake. He can feel the gazes on his back, all those people who think they have the right to judge them, and it feels… yes, it feels good to protect Jake for a day. Imagine that they are more than casual lovers.

When the service ends, the guests come to pay their respects to the four heirs. Jake rises at the same time as his sisters and, with a blank face, accepts platitudes and false claims of shared pain. Bradley doesn't move from his side. At one point, he feels Uncle Wolfe's hand on his shoulder and realizes they had walked to stay at his back. The imposing figure of the two decorated officers discourages even the bravest. No one gives Jake anything more than the obligatory gaze of faux contrition.

Finally, the priest says goodbye, and Elizabeth turns to her younger brother.

"We will have a reception at home," she informs with a bitter expression.

"If I may," Henry comes forward with a face so sweet that anyone would think he was talking to unruly infants.

Elizabeth swallows and says what she is obliged to say.

"Of course, omega Neven," and even smiles.

"The truth is, Omega Seresin, life on warships is terrible for manners." He closes his eyes and shakes his head from side to side a couple of times as if remembering something unpleasant. "Your brother looks so tired, don't you think?"

"I'm fine," Jake says as he stumbles and falls backward. Only Bradley's quick reaction keeps him on his feet.

Henry rolls his eyes and looks at Elizabeth with poorly concealed frustration. Bradley focuses on Jake's weight against his hands because he wants to laugh. He knows what his uncle is doing, and he is not surprised that it works: Henry perfected his persona of submissive and harmless omega until it became a perfect mask, which he can maintain in the face of any pressure, although his true personality is far from it.

In their clan, they are used to use lies as a weapon. It is not considered reprehensible to use the most reactionary stereotypes or revolutionary arguments, depending on the moment. The important thing is to achieve the goal and fortify the family. The problem is when someone decides to use that ability to deceive another person in the family, he reflects bitterly. But it's best not to think about Mav now but rather enjoy how Henry appeals to Jake's sisters' supposed shared experience of dealing with stubborn, unsubtle alphas.

"Excuse me if I criticize your brother, but I don't think his presence will be beneficial at such an important and delicate moment."

"But..." Jake tries to argue in his best imitation of a five-year-old child.

"Honey," Henry cuts in in the tone used with little children without even looking at him, "don't interrupt your elders. We have to help your sisters. As I was saying, Omega Elizabeth. My husbands have been looking forward to having Jake visit Austin to talk," he rolls his eyes as if he can't stand the frustration, "about jets. If we go to your reception, they'll bore everyone talking. Guess about what?"

"Jets," Catalina answers with poorly contained hostility.

"Exactly!" Henry nods, smiling. "I see intelligence runs in the family. So, let's do this. I'm taking these two home. I'm used to alphas talking about jets, warships, and all kinds of alpha things at the table. You will honor your mothers accordingly, without last-minute appearances that will only generate," he wrinkles his nose, "impertinent chatter."

By this time, the three sisters look at Henry as if he were an angel of the Lord.

"I always knew that such beauty could only hide the most solid intelligence, omega Neven." Isabella agrees.

"Perfect! Rick?" Henry calls as he extends his arm.

Immediately, the alpha takes his elbow and begins to lead him back to the car. Leonard follows them.

Jake gives a strangled smile at his family.

"Well, see you on Monday."

"Do not be late." his older sister warns him. "And behave at the Neven's."

Jake narrows his eyes and purses his lips. Bradley doesn't want to know if the comment will be what finally makes him lose his temper.

"Sure. See you Monday," he says and drags him by the arm.

When they arrive at the car, a strong hug awaits them in triplicate, which restores their balance.

"You really look tired, Hangman." Uncle Hollywood tells him. "Go to sleep and stop by tomorrow, okay?"

"Vice Admiral Neven, I wouldn't..."

"We've wanted to meet you for a while," Wolfe cuts him off, "not just because you're Brad's friend. You are a great pilot, Seresin, and you will be a great officer," and gives him a friendly pat on the arm. "Now let Bradley drive. That's an order."

Jake nods with a somewhat embarrassed smile. He turns to look at Uncle Henry and opens his mouth, but he warns him.

"If you call me omega, I'm not responsible for myself, lieutenant."

"Of course. See you tomorrow, Mr. Neven." Bradley clears his throat, and Jake rectifies. "I mean, see you tomorrow, Henry."

"That's better."

INDEX: https://palabraspulsares.blogspot.com/p/happy-together.html