SOMETHING BIGGER THAN ME 3

 Part 2 of The Lies We Told Each Other

Famdon: Top Gun (Movies)

Relationships:
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Original Female Character(s), Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Characters:
Ron "Slider" Kerner, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Original Female Character(s), Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags:
Secret Identity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Secret Relationship, DADT Repeal, September 11 Attacks

Summary:
The Navy doesn't care about your personal problems anyway. August 6 is a day like any other, and you must do your duty. Today is to attend the national celebration of White Pearl, a small nation in the Indian Ocean. The State Department and the Defense Department agree for once. When the monarch calls for bodies in shining uniforms to adorn his celebrations and demonstrate that he has US support, they send them. Bradley is one of the Navy's star pilots. So here he is, in his pressed dress uniform and glittering medals on his chest.

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Chapter 3: 2015, August 

Bradley steps out onto the main deck and looks out at the island.

He always feels a little melancholy these days. Not even when he was in the Balkans -Again? Mav complained when he learned of his assignment- could he forget that August 6 is Blue's anniversary. He knows it's pathetic: thirty years old, and a relationship he had at seventeen and lasted six weeks is the most meaningful of his life, but not everyone can find love and keep it. Besides, he's an aviator. His life is not designed for long-term relationships. Or at least that is what he tells himself. Even the DADT repeal four years ago didn't change much for Bradley, except —he smiles at the memory— that he learned then that his squadmates had been covering up what they thought was a torrid affair between him and Jake for months.

That was comedy gold.

Maybe in another universe where they hadn't grown up together. But Jake Mitchell, who now goes as Seresin just to piss off their father, is his little brother, who gives him enough troubles like that.

The Navy doesn't care about your personal problems anyway. August 6 is a day like any other, and you must do your duty. Today is to attend the national celebration of White Pearl, a small nation in the Indian Ocean. They are a constitutional monarchy that manages its oil reserves well and allows the US fleet to use its territorial waters, so the State Department and the Defense Department agree for once. When the monarch calls for bodies in shining uniforms to adorn his celebrations and demonstrate that he has US support, they send them.

This year, the USS George HW Bush was the closest ship, and Bradley is one of the Navy's star pilots. So here he is, in his pressed dress uniform and glittering medals on his chest.

"Ready for the show, Rooster?"

Brad steps away from the rail. Natasha and Bob have also put on their whites -damn, beautiful love stories are all around him-with the difference that their expressions are cynical. They are too young and must still reconcile to this part of the job. They think it's all flying and chasing bad people. He forces himself to smile.

"Ready."

A local government boat comes to pick them up just before sunset. They settle into seats arranged along the deck, with plenty of room for Captain Pollard, Command Chief Wallace, Natasha, Bob, and Bradley. Since the boat has no roof, they can see the beach and port, packed with dancing crowds.

"I thought we were going for the anniversary of the king's coronation, sir?" Natasha asks.

"This is not Great Britain, Lieutenant. Here is a popular festival. The Blue Day, they call it, because it is the favorite color of his majesty Abderramán ven Jotab."

Indeed, everyone seems to be wearing blue on the island, from the wildly dancing masses to the police officers who control traffic. They arrive at the palace after driving slowly through the city in an open-top car. Bradley gets the impression they were part of the day attractions as people waved at them and took selfies with their ride in the background.

They are greeted by a blue-uniformed employee who leads them into a blue-decorated room, where many important-looking people wear elaborate clothing in shades of blue. While waiting for her majesty, they approach the buffet table, where they find all kinds of finger food in fantastic shapes and, of course, dyed blue.

"This is starting to get tedious," Bob says and swallows a canapé.

Bradley shrugs.

"Think about your duty, Floyd." Brad reminds him. "The Navy is something bigger than you. Besides, at least there's food."

Natasha is about to say something, but a fanfare of trumpets takes over the room. All conversations stop, and a voice announces.

"His divine majesty and incarnation of heavenly will in this territory have arrived, malik Abderramán ven Jotab I."

The pilots hastily put down their snacks, wipe their hands, and head back to Captain Pollard and Wallace. They stand facing the saloon entry like the rest of the guests. The large double doors open, and a man in his thirties enters, regally strolling toward his throne.

The king wears a blue shalwar kameez embroidered so densely that the cloth is almost invisible. His hair is dyed metallic blue, and his face is decorated with drawings of fantastical plants in blue pencil. Suppose the strength of a monarchy depends on its apparent connection to the supernatural. In that case, Abderramán ven Jotab I does an excellent job on the representational part: because he does not seem like a being of this world.

In his wake, the successive deep bows generate a human wave throughout the room.

When he comes level with the American delegation, the group salutes, and Pollard, as captain, steps forward to bow slightly. Only his twelve years of military training allow Bradley to hold his own. He wants to run to shore, swim to the USS George HW Bush, and hide in bed until this nightmare ends.

Abderramán sees Jotab I reach his throne, claps his hands twice, and the music begins.

"You have to be kiging me!" Natasha murmurs.

"No," and Bob extends a hand to her. "it's "True Blue." Come, we have a patriotic duty, lieutenant."

Indeed, the court is already dancing with Madonna. She looks at her captain, pleading, but Pollard shows no mercy.

"Make us proud, Trace. We," he points to Wallace and Bradley "have to complete the other part of the protocol."

The trio joins the line of visitors who must congratulate the monarch. The wait isn't long - this is a small island state in the Indian Ocean, after all - and Bradley stands before the throne soon.

"Congratulations on another year of government, Your Majesty," says Pollard.

"Thank you, captain. Who are your companions?"

"This are the USS George HW Bush Command Chief, Patrick Wallace, and Lieutenant Bradley Rooster, a condecorated aviator."

"Ah!" Abderramán's voice acquires a condescending tone. "Admiral Kazansky's son."

"I have merits of my own," Bradley says, unable to contain himself.

Wallace attempts to intervene, but the king stops him with a gesture and stares at Bradley.

"So you are an agent of your own destiny, Lieutenant?"

Bradley feels his entire body suddenly go limp. He's not hallucinating. It's true. He doesn't care who witnesses this. Brad smile for the first time in the day.

"I'm not as sophisticated as Doc Holiday, Your Highness, but yes, I have made my own destiny."

"Do you like the party?"

"I like blue," he evades. "And August 6 was, of course, an excellent moment for your coronation."

"It was. Too bad my cousin Reda wasn't there to share the happiness of my people." the king addresses Pollard again. "I must congratulate you, captain. In previous years, the US Navy never brought me dancers like Natasha Trace and Robert Floyd. Not witty talkers like Bradshaw. This is indeed a gift."

If the comment surprises or confuses Pollard, he doesn't let it show. Just bows his head respectfully.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Enjoy the party."

They stay for an hour, alternating between eating blue canapés, drinking blue mocktails, and dancing with Natasha. The party's soundtrack is made up of songs with the word blue in the title. They recognize pieces in English, Spanish, French, and Urdu. There might also have been one or two K-Pop hits that Natasha swears she doesn't know but hums with suspicious fluency.

Luckily they don't return through the city but are taken to the private dock of the royal palace. Before leaving, they are given small personalized party favors. The bags are scanned as soon as they arrive at the ship, but they don't have anything electronic, so they are allowed to take them to their rooms.

Bradley opens his gift as soon as he closes his bedroom door. He finds an official photo of His Majesty, the sweater with the inscription USNavy that he lent Adib on September 11, fourteen years ago, and an envelope with a first-class ticket in his name for a flight from Mumbai to White Pearl, undated. The envelope also has a small note —and he recognizes the handwriting, of course— "I want those shoes back. They are collectible."

Bradley smiles. He feels that weight is leaving him now that he knows Blue's fate.

It is a family thing: love stories are always strange.

SOMETHING BIGGER THAN ME 2

Part 2 of The Lies We Told Each Other

Famdon: Top Gun (Movies)

Relationships:
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Original Female Character(s), Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Characters:
Ron "Slider" Kerner, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Original Female Character(s), Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags:
Secret Identity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Secret Relationship, DADT Repeal, September 11 Attacks

Summary:
Bradley wakes up with a cramp in his right arm. He growls and tries to turn but can't. He opens his eyes and sees Blue sleeping in the passenger seat with his arm as a pillow. He becomes aware of the incongruousness of the image and looks around. The park is empty, and a few meters away, the road bustles with morning traffic. He shakes her shoulder.
"Wake up." Blue pushes his hand away and continues sleeping. "Blue, wake up! We fell asleep in the park! We have to go."

----------------------------------

Chapter 2: 2001, September 

One Monday night, they go to a midnight screening of "Tombstone" with Kurt Russell and Val Kilmer. Brad tears up at Doc Holiday's death scene. Blue tries to calm him down, and he confesses that his mother died of cancer. It feels intimate.

They fall asleep to the cooing of the crickets.

Bradley wakes up with a cramp in his right arm. He growls and tries to turn but can't. He opens his eyes and sees Blue sleeping in the passenger seat with his arm as a pillow. He becomes aware of the incongruousness of the image and looks around. The park is empty, and a few meters away, the road bustles with morning traffic. He shakes her shoulder.

"Wake up." Blue pushes his hand away and continues sleeping. "Blue, wake up! We fell asleep in the park! We have to go."

Blue stands up in one fluid motion and looks around with wide eyes. She swallows dry.

"What time is it?" she asks fearfully.

Bradley looks at his watch as he starts the car.

"Eight in the morning." He leaves the park and goes to the university, cursing that he can't speed up in the heavy traffic. "I have class at nine, and you?"

"Tuesday, Tuesday…" Blue removes her wig and exposes her shiny black hair, cut in a military style. "I also have class at nine, but," she looks at her clothes. "I can't go like this. I can't go to my bedroom during the day either looking like this," her tone acquires a hint of panic. "They kill me, B, they kill me."

She begins to cry. Bradley squeezes her shoulder.

"No one is going to die, okay? Nobody. You come to my bedroom, Travis has class at eight, so he's already gone."

"Travis?"

"My roommate."

"What am I going to do in your room?"

"You can call a friend to get you other clothes."

"No," Blue denies. "nobody can enter my room. It will not work."

"Then you can wear something of mine. When they ask you, you say that… I don't know! Someone poured coffee on you when you were walking to class, and the asshole offered you a change of his clothes so you wouldn't walk around campus like that."

"Yes, yes, that can work. Wait! Do not go that way." she shrinks in her seat. "Follow straight to the other street."

Bradley complies. At the door of the building they avoided, he sees two grumpy-looking security guards. Finally, they arrive at his residence. Blue puts her wig back on and pushes her hair forward to hide her features. They reach the service door and run down the stairs.

"It's eight-thirty. We can do it," Bradley says over his shoulder as he searches for some clothes that could fit Blue. Maybe he can give her Mav's sweater? He brought it to feel close to his father, but this is an emergency situation. They are roughly the same height, although Maverick is much stockier.

He turns with the sweater and gym pants in his hands and finds Blue studying his nightstand.

"Is your family?" She asks in astonishment.

Her reaction is logical, Brad thinks bitterly.

She is looking at a photo they had specially taken so that he would have the entire clan with him without arousing suspicion. It's in the style of formal Navy portraits, but with more people than usual: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and Tom "Iceman" Kazansky are in full regalia and with all their medals, Sarah between them, Sean in her arms, the cekpápi, and Bradley himself on the sides. You don't have to know much about military ranks. That accumulation of stars and medals is impressive.

"Yeah. My father is an aviator, Navy captain, and my," he almost says até but stops himself. "My uncle is a Rear Admiral Upper Half. Sort of like a two-star Navy general."

Blue looks at him as if she is seeing him for the first time. Her eyes are no longer tender but calculating. Bradley holds up a hand, placating.

"Blue, you don't have to tell me anything about yourself if you don't want to. I understand that this is not what you wanted from our relationship. Just change your clothes, I'll drop you where you need to be, and then you decide if you want to see me again."

Blue thinks about it for a bit and nods. Bradley give her the clothes and points to the bathroom door.

"Take a shower, okay? I can still feel the perfume you used last night."

With running water in the background, Brad gets some things out of the fridge and puts together a hasty breakfast. He then goes back to his closet. When the bathroom door opens, he is already half naked and has his clean clothes in hand.

"Eat something," he orders and runs in to shower too.

At eight-fifty, they are leaving the dorm building. Blue is wearing a pair of Travis's sneakers. Bradley gave her a pad and a couple of pens to take notes until she is able to get her own things. The wig, clothes, and heels from the night before are in a locked bag tucked deep into Brad's closet.

"Where should I drop you?" the blonde asks as he starts the car.

"At Jefferson and Ruppel."

Brad does some mental math and nods.

"We can be there in five," he puts reverse and begins to leave the parking lot when four black cars appear and block the two exits. "What the hell?"

Blue sees them and sinks into the seat.

"They found me, they found me," she repeats in a panicked voice. "They're going to kill me," she growls. "They're going to kill me," she repeats in pain. "They're going to kill me," she says again with an empty, resigned voice. Then she looks at Brad with a defeated expression. "Just stay in the car and don't intervene, okay?"

She goes to open the door, but Brad stops her.

"No one is going to kill you, I already told you. Take it easy." Bradley's cell phone rings with a text message alert. "Code Blue" reads.

At the same time, the cars open up, and a squad of recruits from the university's ROTC battalion fan out into the parking lot. Their weapons are not pointed at the car but around.

"Those soldiers are coming for me," says Bradley.

"Actually, we're here for both of you," interrupts a man in army captain's insignia who has stopped next to the car. "Mr. Bradshaw," he puts two fingers to his forehead in greeting and looks at Blue. "Prince Adib, what happened to your cell phone?"

Blue...

No.

Adib.

Prince?

Prince Adib looks at the captain with fear, but it's not the same fear as when he thought they were specifically coming for him. Like Bradley, Adib understands that there is something bigger afoot.

"The battery died."

The captain nods.

"In that case, I tell you verbally: we are in code blue. Get out of the car, put down all electronics, and come with us, please."

Typically, the drive from Charlottesville to Norfolk Naval Base is two hours. They do it in an hour and fifteen. That's plenty of time for Bradley to ponder what this situation reveals about Blue... No! About Prince Adib. He knew they were hiding key elements of their lives, but a prince? Only he goes to a party and hooks up with a member of a foreign country's nobility. His até Ice will laugh for days. Because there is no way to hide it now: how and with whom they found it will be part of the report to Rear Admiral Upper Half Kazanky. He has no idea when he will read it because if the country is under attack, there are other priorities, but he will read it eventually. At least it will be a secret report. Sarah and the sunkaku will not be able to find out.

He looks at the seat beside him, where Adib sits upright and respectable. He hasn't said a word to him since they got into this black car with tinted windows, and Bradley suspects he's figuring out how to handle the compromising situation they found them in. Even without a wig or heels, he still spent the night outside his bedroom -he now remembers the security guards- and was found in Brad's car, wearing Brad's clothes. His family would have a good laugh at this rom-com situation, but judging by Adib's comments —suddenly those "they're going to kill me" sound less exaggerated— his family won't see anything funny in the situation.

Because DADT policy only governs the Department of Defense, but that does not mean that the rest of the world is understanding and friendly.

Bradley has volunteered for two weeks at a shelter for homeless queer teens. It has been another "crash course" in the crueler dynamics of the civilian world. He can't believe that someone throws a thirteen, fourteen year old out of his house for being gay or trans, even on suspicion that they are. He teaches them self-defense. He feels that it is not enough, but he can see how his students' self-esteem grows in just two or three classes.

He looks back at Adib and wonders if his training as a prince included using weapons. His hands are so delicate, there's no way… Well, Sarah doesn't have calluses, and she packs some impressive punches. "The key is to use plenty of moisturizers," she explained.

But that doesn't matter, he remembers bitterly, because his relationship with Blue is over.

The base is on combat alert. They pass three successive security points before they are ushered out of the car and into a building. Bradley sees other people coming in with similar expressions of concern. He recognizes a couple of students he has met at conferences or events at the university and… Is that the aerospace professor!? How many "code blues" are there at UVA? Once inside, they take an elevator to sublevel three. They end up in a conference room.

It is clear that they prepared the place in haste: there are still traces of blue marker on the edges of the whiteboard. The tables were pushed against the wall to make space in the center. A buffet with water, coffee, pastries, bagels, disposable packets of cream cheese and ketchup, and plastic cutlery is in one corner. There are no napkins.

Bradley is itching to know what caused the code blue, but he doesn't have his cell phone, which wouldn't work inside this military bunker.

He only knows that it is 10:30 a.m. on September 11, and somehow the United States is under attack.

Where are his parents?

Mav reported for sea duty right after drop him at college. He left from Norfolk Naval Base as a squadron leader on the USS Enterprise and headed for the Persian Gulf.

Ice is in Washington, DC. He had a week of meetings on military intelligence —and that's why Brad and his sunkaku are part of the Code Blue plan— and he promised to come down to Virginia for lunch on Saturday.

Suddenly, he becomes aware of the meaning of Washington DC. The country is under attack, and his até is in the capital. Of course, the San Diego Naval Base would also be an important target, but... is Ice safe? If he had been hurt, would they tell him? Legally he is not… The real possibility of the fact takes his breath away.

Blue's voice takes him out of his depressive reflections.

No, he forces himself to mentally rectify it while he locates him with his eyes.

Prince Adib's voice brings him out of his reflections. Brad can recognize his annoyed and impatient tone, even though he's almost across the room. He sees Adib standing stiff, hands clasped behind his back. He faces another man, a little older, maybe in his late twenties. Bradley goes to them without thinking.

"Adib, dude, what´s up?" Upon reaching his side, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the other with disdain. "Is this guy giving you trouble? You know? I can ask the soldiers to take him to an uglier cell."

He's trying to channel Travis's condescending attitude, and it seems to be working. The stranger looks at him in surprise. Adib changes his belligerent expression to something between exhausted and amused as if he's used to Brad's arrogance.

"It won't be necessary."

"I don't see why he gets involved in a family matter…" the man begins to say, but Adib interrupts him.

"This is Bradley Bradshaw, adopted son of Rear Admiral Upper Half Tom Kazansky, Chief of the US Navy Intelligence." The guy closes his mouth, and his contemptuous attitude evaporates. "Brad, this is my cousin, Prince Reda. Since he's older than me, he thinks it's his duty to watch me while we're in America."

Bradley smiles, nods exaggeratedly, and continues his role as the arrogant nepo baby.

"Oh! I get it." He slaps Reda on the shoulder. If it's so hard that Reda hisses in pain, well, Brad was just being overly friendly. "That happens to me too. Everywhere I go, there is some military police colonel. I always tell them, "Chill out, man. I'll be official anyway". But my uncle is worried about appearances."

"Yes, appearances," Reda intervenes with his right forefinger raised. "precisely. You can't disappear for a whole night, Adib."

"Disappear?" Brad repeats in his best tone of incomprehension.

Adib rolls his eyes.

"My cousin wants to know where I was last night. He thinks I should have a solid alibi in light of current events. This is ridiculous! Our family would never get involved in an attack on America. We're allies!"

"Last night?" Brad raises an eyebrow and smiles again. "Oh! Chill out Feda."

"Reda." rectifies the other.

"That's right. Chill out, cousin Leda. Adib was with me. I'm, like, the most reliable person to establish an alibi, right?"

Reda looks him up and down, clearly skeptical.

"And what did you do all night? Mr Bradshaw."

"You do not know? Adib here is an ace in French and has been helping me with my homework." He leans conspiratorially and lowers his voice a bit. "Don't tell anyone, but my French is AWFUL. We're not in the same class, but Adib approached me one day in the library and offered to tutor me."

Bradley can see in Reda's eyes that distrust is giving way to greed. He is sure any suspicion of inappropriate behavior has disappeared to make room for a slight admiration toward Adib. He knows how interested Prince Adib's offer looks: to befriend the not-so-bright son of a man who walks the halls of power. To reinforce the effect, Adib adds.

"Yes, we have become very good friends in these weeks, right Brad?" and pats him on the shoulder with a condescending look as if he can't believe how innocent he is.

Bradley nods with an idiotic grin as the bile rises to his throat. How easy it is to lie about what they did and feel. Turn everything into lies and greed. How can Ice and Mav keep up this comedy when they meet in public?

"Mr. Bradshaw," a soldier calls from the doorway. "The vice admiral wants to see you."

"Oops!" He makes a gesture as if the attention bothers and amuses him. "What did I tell you? VIP treatment. See you soon. Remember, I have an exam in a week, dude."

As he walks to the base chief's office, Bradley runs a hand over his face several times, trying to let go of his self-loathing. As soon as the door closes behind him, Vice Admiral Kerner approaches him with a weary look.

"Little Goose, what a relief to see you," he hugs him. "Ice was about to send an expeditionary force to UVA when they didn't find you in the building where you had classes."

"I fell asleep," Brad explains without leaving his uncle. "Is he…? I know Ice arrived in DC yesterday."

Slider pulls back to look at his face.

"Don't worry, Ice was on the opposite side of the Pentagon when everything happened. He doesn't have a scratch on him, he's just very, very enraged."

"On the opposite side of the Pentagon? You mean they attacked the Pentagon?"

Kerner looks at him, surprised.

"Don't you know what happened?"

"No. I got the "code blue" text message at eight-fifty. A captain showed up with a squad of ROTC students more edgy than someone with a date with Princess Leia, and they brought me here."

His Uncle Slider sits on the edge of his table and raises an eyebrow.

"They brought you here? Alone?"

Brad feels himself turn red.

"I mean, yes, they brought me and a... friend. The point is that they put us in that room without any explanation. We don't know what's going on!"

The brief smile fades from Kerner's face.

"What's going on…" he sighs. "Right now, Congress and the White House have been evacuated, and we are preparing to send missile-armed destroyers to New York."

"What? But you said it was at the Pentagon. Or is it a just in case?"

"Wait, wait. I'll tell you in order."

Although he is sure he is being given the public version, the facts shake him to his core. This can't happen, repeats a voice inside him. The world just doesn't work like that. Right?

Slider notices that the shock is setting in, stops, goes to his table, and returns with a glass containing a finger of an amber liquid.

"Drink, Baby Goose, today you need it."

Brad obeys him. The burning of the whiskey makes him cough but also react.

"Has anyone claimed responsibility for the attacks?"

"No. Although it's totally the style of those Islamic Holy War nut cases, I'd rather wait for the FBI and Justice Department to tell me who to shoot."

The young man looks at his uncle curiously. He knows that the bond between Slider, Ice, and Mav was cemented during the "Layton Affair" -the most well-known secret event in the Navy-, and that they returned after bringing down four Soviet MiGs. To bring down, Mav clarified to him one day, is a fancy way of saying "killing people" on air. Then there were other missions, some official, some secret. The fact is that none of them talks about flying in the same tone that they talk about dogfights.

"That being said," Slider makes an awkward face. "it does have the style of a jihadist attack, and you spent the night with Prince Adib?"

Brad looks down at his hands, uncomfortable. Did he spend the night with the prince? He really doesn't think so. He might recognize Blue's features in the man who emerged from his bedroom bathroom in the USNavy sweater and olive sweatpants, but the attitude, hand movement, and soft eyes of the person he'd known for six weeks were gone. Blue is dead, and it's his fault.

Would Slider interrogate him if Adib was called Arthur? Probably not, but Brad already knows that life is rarely fair. He's not going to fight about this. It is not worth fighting for a relationship that no longer exists.

"We went last night to see the midnight show of "Tombstone" in Emancipation Park. We fell asleep in my truck and woke up at eight today."

"How long have you known each other?"

"Six weeks."

"Has he tried to obtain information about you or your family…?"

"Adib didn't know my last name until this morning," Brad cuts him off, annoyed. It's one thing to answer routine security questions and another to let them stain what he had with Blue. "We agreed not to reveal anything about our families. What we had was ours, only ours, uncle Slider and now…" he feels wet cheeks and has no idea when he started crying.

Kerner puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"It's not the end of the world, Brad. You just started college, you will meet other people."

"I know, but nothing will be like this."

As he feared, Bradley sees him for the last time when they are returned to UVA. Adib gets into a car with his cousin, and Bradley goes into another with a drama student who turns out to be the niece of the United States Attorney General. Amid the Islamophobia sparked by the claim that al Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden were responsible for the 9/11 attacks, many foreign Muslim students left the country in the following weeks.

Brad can't find the courage to get rid of the wig, clothes, and shoes. He knows it's the rational thing to do, but he can't let it go. So he goes to a friend studying at the Fralin Museum and explains that he wants to keep them. A week later, they gave him back a sealed transparent package. Inside there is no air, but nitrogen, which will keep those objects in stasis until he decides to open it. When he returns to San Diego for Thanksgiving, he asks Sarah to put it away safely. She, bless her soul, doesn't ask questions.

At Thanksgiving dinner, Ice loudly complains about hysteria and prejudice. He makes it clear that he will not tolerate derogatory comments about Muslims in the house since he has had enough of the harassment to his Muslims and Arabic-looking subordinates and the invasion of Afghanistan, where Maverick leads a suicide squad through the gorges of the Caucasus. "Your father is going to give me a heart attack," he tells Jake very seriously. To which the boy responds with a hug and an absolutely Mitchell reply, "My father always comes home, don't worry."

Back at UVA, Brad decides to follow Ice's lead and do something. He joins a network of support and protection for Arab and Muslim students. Between classes, escorting around campus, and teaching self-defense at the queer teen shelter, he's exhausted enough not to think about Blue.

In the fall of 2003, it starts to look like the war on terror will last forever. Bradley Bradshaw concludes that, despite the DADT, he wants to be an aviator like his parents and enrolls in the AVROC program. He spends the summers of 2004 and 2005 between sweaty and gorgeous bodies, but it's easy to reign his desires with the simple invocation of Blue's lips. After studying engineering at UVA, courses in aerodynamics, aircraft engines, and air navigation are relatively easy. He enjoys reading military legislation and thinking about how to manipulate it.

Bradley gets his letter, calls Maverick to tell him he's been accepted to Pensacola and doesn't look back.

SOMETHING BIGGER THAN ME 1

 Part 2 of The Lies We Told Each Other

Famdon: Top Gun (Movies)

Relationships:
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Original Female Character(s), Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Characters:
Ron "Slider" Kerner, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Original Female Character(s), Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags:
Secret Identity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Secret Relationship, DADT Repeal, September 11 Attacks

Summary:

Bradley goes to the University of Virginia because Mav and Ice want him to join the Navy with informed consent of what you miss out on by being in the closet.
Then he meets her.
"Wait, wait. I do not even know your name."
"That's easy, you're Agent B and I'm Blue."
She caresses his noticeable erection above the fabric of his pants.
"Do you want me to use my mouth to talk to you or to do it with you?"
"Well…"

------------------------------

Chapter 1: 2001, August 

Bradley closes the bottom drawer and flops down on the bed, exhausted and satisfied.

"Dude, you fucking overachiever," Travis tells him in a startled voice.

His roommate is standing in the doorway with a pizza box in his hands. His eyes go from Brad's section of the room —clothes tucked away, bookshelf arranged alphabetically, bed made— to his own half, where boxes of books and clothes still occupy the unmade bed.

Brad makes a satisfied noise but doesn't get up.

"I come from a military family," he explains, "I've been making my bed since I was five years old. Does that have pepperoni?"

Travis smiles, walks inside, and closes the door with his foot. He puts the pizza box on the coffee table they share and takes two bottles of soda from the side pockets of his pants.

"Protein is necessary for the study, right?"

"Unless it's the study of chaos in small spaces," Brad points to the other side of the room. "I don't know what you mean. Classes start in two weeks."

"My friend, the university is a comprehensive experience," replies the other while taking out a triangle of pizza and trying to prevent the cheese from falling on his shirt. "It is not limited to classes. We came to campus early to get acquainted with the community. He takes a bite and continues talking with his mouth full. "For example," takes several pamphlets from another pocket and hands them to Brad, "welcome parties and recruiting!"

Bradley flips through the ads as he chews. The first order of business: to rule out the Greek frat parties.

His Dad warned him of the dangers of these fraternities, which he dismissively described as an explosive mix of irresponsible teenagers and influential families. Ice was more direct and told him about the crimes in the headquarters of rich fraternities, which the same universities avoid investigating for the fear of losing donations. He made it clear that if anything happened to him, he would have the full support of the "Family of '86" (which now includes even a Democratic senator), but advised him to keep his distance.

Brad didn't come to the University of Virginia to join a group where he would have to obey orders and hierarchies. For that, he would have gone straight to Annapolis. Mav wants him to try civilian life, which is code for "life without DADT's shadow hanging over your head." Although Brad fervently wants to serve his country and honor his family, he admits that there is a world beyond the manicured lawns of the San Diego Naval Base golf club that he knows nothing about.

Iná Sarah summed it up with a very cool phrase "They want you to join the navy with informed consent of what you miss out on by being in the closet."

Even after eliminating the Greeks, in the two weeks until school starts, about twenty themed homecoming parties are scheduled. More than enough to "get to know the community," as Travis put it.

He books "Engineering of the Future" because he came to study it.

Also, let's go to "Video Games for All."

"Pool party"? Noted!

"Save the Earth with a Mojito"? He never felt more ecological awareness.

"Take your alien out of the closet"? Bradley slowly reads the event description and puts his finger on the little rainbow at the bottom of the page.

He looks up at his roommate: Travis has his back to him, busy getting the boxes off his bed so he can spread a blanket and lie down. Very slowly, Bradley folds the ad and puts it in a pants pocket. Better if Travis doesn't even know.

Thanks to Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones, you can now go to an alien-themed party in a black suit and glasses. Bradley knows he stands out among the dozen or so other "Men in Black" he saw coming in while guarding the driveway -he waited fifteen minutes in his truck to confirm it wasn't a setup and there were no protesters around- because he owns a pair of Predators 2 original sunglasses -the whole family bought them after seeing the film-, to which he adds the martial stance he learned growing up between naval bases and military events. As soon as he enters the party, he notices many participants with clear desires to have their planetary status "certified" by him.

Satisfied with that initial impression, he goes to the bar and studies the offers. The drinks have little variety but have been imaginatively renamed to fit the event's theme.

-Give me a Luke Skywalker lightsaber.

He pays, turns to face the dance floor, leaning against the bar, and slowly drinks his lemon soda with a splash of white rum.

With the excuse of bringing aliens out of the closet, this party is about as LGBTQ as an event that doesn't advertise itself as LGBTQ, except for a discreet rainbow at the bottom of the page, can be. The costumes disregard traditional gender roles and use a lot of phosphorescent fabric. About half the audience appears to be straight, but Bradley fails to detect even an awkward reaction to same-sex couples outright groping.

In the background is a table with a giant rainbow of balloons gathered inside a net made of silver ropes. It is absolutely outrageous and obvious in its objective. Bradley begins to stroll toward the fancy information booth. Expecting to go home with a pamphlet or two from local LGBTQ organizations well hidden.

Halfway, he stops.

She is dancing with a group. Seven of them have coordinated their costumes: a similar model in the seven colors of the rainbow. All the outfits are metallic in color, with a rigid conical torso without sleeves or straps, with flared and very short skirts. They also wear round-cut wigs the same color as their clothing, with antennae ending in pompoms. Bradley has eyes only for the light body, clad in metallic blue, with her back to him.

To stand still in the middle of a ballroom is to become a beacon. The group notices his presence and starts throwing curious glances at him. Since he doesn't move or hide his interest in a specific person, they start talking to each other with amused giggles. Finally, Blue turns to him with a determined expression and mischievous eyes.

"Can I help you with something, Agent?"

It's not even eight, but they leave without looking back.

Bradley can barely open the tailgate of the truck. Blue climbs over him like a tree, and they fall inside laughing. An idea manages to make its way through the excitement produced by her scent and the hands caressing his torso.

"The door is open," and he tries to get up.

Blue growls and stops him with an unexpectedly strong hand on his chest. Then she arches and closes the door, still looking at him. Her smile, framed in blue lipstick, makes him almost painfully excited.

"God, how beautiful." Bradley puts his hands behind her neck to give her another kiss.

After exploring their mouths, Blue kisses his neck and struggles to loosen his tie. Bradley manages to sit up, remove his jacket, and open his shirt and pants. Blue sits on his thighs and rubs against his erection with a steady, overwhelming rhythm. Bradley puts a hand in her crotch. He recognizes the texture of lace-lined satin, and the wetness of the fabric makes him proud, but the piece is too tight, and he can't get his fingers through. He decides to try from behind, to lower it from the rear. Blue slaps him.

"No."

"But I want…"

"Only the upper half," Blue warns and reinforces her instruction by placing Bradley's hands on her shoulders.

“Okay, okay…”

He tries to open the top of the dress. Finally, it touches some brooches on the back, opening the piece. It's a fully rigid corset that pulls into the front seat. Blue is wearing a blue lace ensemble, drenched in sweat. The upper cut highlights her small breasts, with dark nipples.

Too small.

A sudden panic freezes Bradley.

"Wait, wait." He pushes his hands away so he can think clearly. "How old are you?"

"What?" Blue looks at him blankly, then her eyes go from Bradley's frightened face to her chest. "Oh! Yes, they are tiny. You do not like them?"

"What I'd like is for you to tell me your age," Bradley insists.

He can already imagine the faces of Mav, Sarah, and Ice if he goes home for having sex with a minor. On second thought, he won't see their faces because he won't be able to return home. Never!

Blue pouts.

"Seventeen, honey. Only university students could enter, remember?"

Yes, Brad remembers. Okay. Take a deep breath.

"If you don't like them…" Blue gestures to reach for her corset.

"I like them!" He hastens to say. "I like them a lot. It's just that… well," he smiles awkwardly for breaking the atmosphere. "I don't want to get in trouble. So… I just wanted to check that you are the right age for this type of game."

"But what a gentleman I found." she smiles again, and although the blue is already a stain around her mouth, Bradley finds himself mesmerized by his lips. "However, today, I am the one who will ride, Agent."

Blue puts his hands on her small breasts, leans on Bradley's shoulders, and renews the movement of her hips against his erection.

Sometime later, the orgasm left Bradley drained. Blue is a comforting weight on his chest, and he caresses her lace-wrapped back with lazy fingers.

A tap of knuckles on the glass snaps him out of his drowsiness. Try to distinguish with the dim light from the street if it is the police. No, it's someone from the group dancing in metallic dresses. He rolls down the window.

"Yeah?"

"We came to pick up Blue," Red says softly. His smile is somewhat strange because the color of his lips is confused with his dyed mustache.

Bradley nods and pats her.

"Hey! It's time for you to go home."

Blue stirs, growls, and finally opens his eyes.

"What time is it?" she asks hoarsely.

"Ten," Red says before Brad looks at his watch.

Blue's eyes widen, and she rushes to retrieve her corset. She slides off Bradley's thighs and begins to put it on. That's not the time. Brad knows they spent less than hour on this. He understands it is a code but is not strange among people who hide their identity, so he does not say anything. Instead, he finds the metallic blue heels on the car's floor and passes them over.

"Thank you." Blue's hoarse voice seems incredibly sexy to him.

Before she leaves, Brad puts a hand on her arm.

"Can I give you my number?" he asks in a spur of courage.

Red lets out a short giggle. Blue looks at him in surprise but takes a small cell phone from some hidden pocket in her dress and passes it to him. Brad rushes to enter his contact under Agent B and activates the call button. He waits to hear the tone of his own phone before returning the device.

He doesn't tell Travis where he went.

He receives a text five days later. It contains a time and a postal address. Bradley goes crazy looking for a map of Charlottesville. It ends in a cargo area. Blue waits for him with her back leaning against a wire fence. She's wearing her metallic blue wig, but this time the clothes are pink, and it's like a neon sign amid the lead-gray of the containers. She's wearing a ruffled strappy blouse, tight pants that look like she was born with them, and ankle boots.

She gets into the truck and leans in to kiss him without saying a word. Her hands go directly to the fly of Brad's jeans.

"Wait wait. I do not even know your name."

"That's easy, you're Agent B and I'm Blue."

She caresses his noticeable erection above the fabric of his pants.

"Do you want me to use my mouth to talk to you or to do it with you?"

"Well…"

But Blue doesn't wait for his answer. She opens the zipper and swallows Bradley's dick in one.

"Ooooh! God!"

The orgasm comes too soon.

Blue swallows it all, wipes the corner of her mouth with the bottom of Bradley's shirt, and leaves without saying a word. She gets lost among the dumpsters, and Bradley hears a car engine driving away.

He slumps over the steering wheel, defeated. This was not how he imagined this encounter.

Two days later, Bradley decides to go on the offensive: he texts her a time and the address of a discreet off-campus cafe. Blue does not appear.

The next day he receives another appointment. It's near a park, but at eight at night, families are long gone. As Blue sits beside him, Bradley places a package on her thighs.

"I don't know what you prefer, so I brought you a classic hamburger, a chicken sandwich, and a vegetarian burger." he points to the space between the seats. "There, you have water and soda."

He opens his own package and takes a bite.

Blue alternately looks at Bradley and at the package in her lap.

"What's going on?"

"We have a date," he replies with his mouth full.

"A date?" repeats Blue slowly.

"Yes, you know. That thing people use to get to know each other and decide if they want to have sex."

"We already had sex."

"That's why I know I want to date you," Brad smiles.

Blue blinks, confusion clear on his face. Finally, she sighs and opens her package.

"Did you bring extra ketchup?"

Things get better from that day on.

They do not reveal their legal names, dormitory addresses, or where they are from. Instead, they talk about movies, books, what they see in the clouds, and what you feel when floating in the sea for a long time.

They have sex on approximately 50% of dates.

Blue never lets him touch anything between her waist and knees.

Classes start on Monday, August 20, but they make it work.

Bradley tells her that he grew up on the other side of the country he will study engineering and political science. Blue explains that she chose Virginia because she is far from her family. She came to study economics and with a minor in linguistics.

Their relationship takes place almost entirely inside the truck. They buy take-out food, visit the green areas around campus, or watch outdoor cinema screenings.