Archive of Our Own

are you on your way? 

He hits send and then quickly scrolls to Bradley's last message. Instead of driving straight home after work today, he took a detour to Natasha's house for dinner and spent some time with her husband Tyler and daughter Grace. He has to scroll past the pictures he sent Bradley of himself with baby Grace to locate the text and he finds himself a bit embarrassed at how many photos he sent Bradley. There's even more hiding in his camera roll, of Grace munching on her teething ring, of her playing with the stacking rings he bought as a gift. Nat really makes a cute baby. Eventually, he can tear himself away from the pictures and read the message again. taking a bit longer to finish the report, won't be home before 9 again, sorry baby Bradley had sent about 4 hours ago. There are many similar messages from the last two months in their text history. 

With a look at his watch, Jake confirms it's about 15 minutes past nine now. His gaze moves over to the oven, where the leftovers from the dinner Nat made today have already finished heating up. If he leaves that in much longer, it's gonna burn to a crisp. Just as he's taking a step towards it, he hears the familiar rumble of the Bronco in the driveway and lights illuminate the kitchen from the outside, before Bradley turns the car off and all outside noise disappears. 

He's grabbing the warm plate out of the oven with a dishtowel when keys jangle in the front door and, seconds later, he can hear Bradley toe off his shoes. He'll never understand why someone needs to be so loud when taking off their shoes, but he's given up on reminding Bradley after four years. He has his own annoying habits that Bradley has to deal with. He puts the plate down on their kitchen table, and is grabbing two cold beers from the fridge when two arms wrap around his stomach and there's the heat of another body all along his back.

"Want something other than beer?" he asks Bradley. 

"Nah, that's fine," Bradley replies. He presses a quick kiss to Jake's lips when he finally finds the beers and turns around. "Hi," he says with a cheeky grin, mustache hairs twitching. They break apart quickly and sit together at the table, one beer in front of Jake and the food and second beer in front of Bradley. Bradley starts shoving the food in his mouth like a starved man, groaning obscenely when the flavor explodes on his tongue. "Fuck, I love Nat's chicken curry," he moans. Usually that sound would send a tingle down his spine, but Jake's not really into Bradley speaking with food in his mouth. 

He lets Bradley eat in peace for another minute or two, just quietly sipping at his beer and scrolling on his phone. "Those pictures you sent earlier were so cute, Jake; thanks," he hears Bradley say eventually. "Hmm, right?" he replies absentmindedly, locking his screen and then putting it in his pocket. They usually make a point not to use their phone at the kitchen table. 

"I can't believe how fast she's growing. She was so tiny when she was born," Bradley muses, and he's not wrong. He vividly remembers how tiny Grace looked after she was born, and he immediately thinks of how terrified Bradley looked when he got to hold her for the first time, how giant his arms looked in comparison to her head. It couldn't be any more different now nine months later. Jake actually grunted in surprise earlier when Nat handed Grace over to him at her front door; he had no idea babies grew so quickly.

He says as much to Bradley, and then, "She's starting to look so much more like Tyler as well. Nat just kept complaining about the fact that she's given birth to a mini-version of her husband." 

"Yeah, well, if I had a tiny Jake Seresin running around here, I would complain, too" Bradley jokes. 

"Hah, very funny," he says, joking really, but it makes Bradley laugh. They spend the next few minutes talking some more about Grace until Bradley's finished. "I'm gonna do the dishes real quick. Do you wanna put something on in the living room?" Bradley asks, standing up with his empty plate in one hand and the two empty beer bottles clutched in the other. Jake twists around in his chair to respond. "Sure; any preferences?" 

Bradley's already turned the tap on and is putting the dirty dishes from the morning into the soapy water. "Nah, just choose whatever." 

He leaves Bradley to it and then walks to their living room, making himself comfortable on the couch and scrolling through Netflix. It takes a while to scroll through all the cheesy romantic comedies Netflix has been pumping out lately - no, thank you - before he finds a few contenders worth watching. 

"Find anything?" He hears Bradley from behind him. When Bradley climbs on the couch, it takes some maneuvering until they're both comfortable; Jake splayed out in between the V of Bradley's legs, with his back to Bradley's chest. Bradley's changed out of his khakis now, into comfortable gray sweatpants and one of his old UVA shirts that's so worn out that the material is soft as butter.

"The first Fast and Furious movie," he says, "That okay?" In response, Bradley takes the remote from him, presses play and then throws it to the other side of the couch. 

It takes a while before either of them says anything, just watching the movie in comfortable silence. It's not often that they get the time to just watch a movie together with their busy schedules. Lately, it's been even less time - Bradley's carrier is deploying for six months in less than three weeks and now that they've both been promoted to lieutenant commander, Bradley's responsible for a hellish amount of paperwork, getting his portion of the air wing ready. He doesn't mind - Jake understands Bradley's career ambitions better than most people and his own carrier is deploying in three months - but he misses the time when they could go on real dates, or maybe even weekend trips. Right now, it's a miracle if Bradley gets home from work before eight in the evening. 

They're more than halfway through the movie when Jake starts struggling to pay attention. About four scenes ago, Bradley's hand had wandered to Jake's hair, and he's been slowly scratching his head and tugging at his hair ever since. He's not sure Bradley's even aware of what he's doing, because the way Bradley's moving his hand has developed a pattern. Scratch his head, tug on a tuft of hair, repeat. With each tug, a tingle runs down his spine, and heat simmers in his gut, his cock perking up with interest. They've already seen the first Fast and Furious a few times, so he slowly starts to sit up, with Bradley's hand falling from his hair. He eventually manages to scoot forward enough on the couch so he can stand up without gravity forcing him back down, and he turns, looking down at Bradley from where he's now standing in front of him. 

"Everything okay?" Bradley asks, confusion clouding his face. Before Bradley can do so much as move, Jake climbs back onto the couch, straddling his lap. It's not his smoothest move all around, what with the standing up and all, but he's not aiming for smooth. The only noise Bradley manages to make is a startled Hmph before Jake's on him, cradling Bradley's neck and pulling Bradley towards him. It takes Bradley a second to respond, surprise making him slack, but then his lips start moving against Jake's. His hands, which had been lying at his sides, move to the small of Jake's back, pressing him against Bradley's body, before one hand wanders lower until it's just loosely palming his ass. They keep kissing for a while, until their lips are slick with spit and plump. It's not long, though, until Jake can feel the outline of Bradley's cock under him and he moans, loud and obscene, hips slowly starting to grind against Bradley. 

This has been the most action between them in weeks, inching closer to a month. Even then, they had been lying in bed, with Bradley rimming him and coming all over his ass and back, too exhausted to do much more after a long and draining training flight. Since then, it's been just kisses and cuddling. Even when Bradley comes home before eight, that's usually because he's had a training flight that day and doesn't have the energy to do any more paperwork. Sadly, that also means he's too exhausted for sex. Jake's been getting real familiar with his own hand again these past few weeks. 

His movements increase in speed, cock throbbing in his boxers at the feeling of Bradley getting harder under him. God, he really misses getting fucked. 

They break apart for a second, faces inches apart and panting against each other. While he's catching his breath, he removes his hands from the back of Bradley's neck and moves to take off his shirt, when Bradley's hands shoot out and grab his own, stopping him from revealing more than just a few inches of abs. 

"Wait baby, hmm …," Bradley pants. No. No. With a sigh and a light chuckle, Bradley softly grabs his chin. "I have to get to work so early tomorrow; we can't tonight," Bradley says. He looks remorseful, so he's obviously not happy about it. 

Jake frowns, cock softening rapidly. "Tomorrow's Saturday Bradley, and you were finally supposed to have a day off," he reminds him. 

Bradley looks at him ruefully, and opens his mouth, ruining any hopes Jake had for a day spent lounging around in bed and getting off. "I know, I'm sorry, but I didn't manage to finish filling out those damn forms today, and I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer tonight," he says. With a frustrated groan, Jake removes himself from his lap, sitting down heavily next to him. "I'm really sorry, baby," Bradley rushes to say. By now, he knows how to interpret every look on Jake's face; he knows Jake's not happy. 

He doesn't say anything for a while. Bradley doesn't either. Bradley sighs when it's been minutes and he still hasn't said anything, leaning over and tilting Jake's head towards him. He presses a sweet kiss to his lips - worlds apart from their frantic making out earlier - once, twice and then leans back a bit so he can actually look into Jake's eyes. "I'll make it up to you soon, promise," he says. 

Goddamn Bradley Bradshaw and his fucking puppy eyes. "It's okay," he replies eventually, and Bradley grins, bright and happy. He can't actually be angry with Bradley. It's not like they're not having sex because Bradley isn't attracted to him, and he knows it. He also knows first-hand how stressful that paperwork before sea duty can be. It's not like he hasn't done it before. With the addition of a new pilot to Bradley's squadron, there's even more this time, even more training to bring the new kid up to speed and let the team adapt. 

But Bradley's shipping out in less than three weeks, and with Jake leaving for his own six-month deployment in three months, they won't see each other for nine months. They've been apart even longer before, so Jake knows it's not going to be the end of their relationship; he's never getting rid of Bradley Bradshaw, that's for sure. He just would like to get thoroughly fucked before Bradley leaves. Nine months with his own hand and no sex before? No, thank you. 

__________

When Javy calls him two days later, he says as much. 

"Listen, man, I'm getting blue balls here … and I'm in a relationship!" he says, palming his face roughly. Bradley's stuck at work again - there was a disagreement between the new pilot and Bradley's wingman, Replay - so he's alone right now. 

Javy groans, sounding uncomfortable. "I don't know what you want me to do here, Jake," he says. "Have you talked to him about it yet?" he asks, which makes Jake let out an incredulous laugh. 

"What, just go up to my boyfriend and say Hey, you're not fucking me enough? Yeah, like that's gonna go down well," he argues. Through the phone, he hears Javy mutter a soft Jesus, and then, as if he's not speaking directly into the phone, "Gimme five minutes, babe."

Jake flushes immediately, and he knows that wasn't meant for him. Javy's on vacation with his girlfriend Camille in Joshua Tree, and he hopes to God she didn't just hear what she said. He's not a prude, but he's not exactly keen for his best friend's girlfriend to know his sexual preferences. 

"Sorry," Javy says eventually, pulling Jake out of his thoughts. By the following silence, Jake knows that Javy's thinking about what to say next, and it comes not even seconds later. "Just … He really doesn't have any idea it's been bothering you? He can usually read you like an open book. And look, I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I know Bradshaw's not exactly sex-shy either." 

"I don't think he can focus on anything else other than his impending deployment and the damn paperwork right now, Javy," he mutters, "That new kid on their squadron's been struggling to adapt and he's anxious about it."

He sighs, exasperated. He cannot believe he's talking about this - that he needs to talk about it. For fucks sake, his relationship with Bradley started with a blowjob at the Hard Deck, both of them drunk and with so much pent-up tension between them it was either gonna end with both of them in the hospital or in bed. It's not the most conventional start to a relationship, but it's not exactly a bad memory for Jake. Most of their friends had already gone home by that time, Penny had long cut them off from any harder alcohol than light beer. He doesn't actually remember the events leading up to them in the dingy bathroom, but what happened afterward? Not sure he could ever forget, even though there was a lot more alcohol cursing through his veins than normal. Once in there, Jake had taken the lonely, half-broken barstool that was holding a box of tissues out of the corner and pushed it up underneath the door handle, while Bradley had checked the three stalls for any people, opening up the doors with one hand while the other was fumbling with his belt. It was a quick rush from there; Jake pushing Bradley into one of the stalls, dropping to his knees with a move that he definitely felt the next day, and pushing Bradley's hands away from his belt, grabbing his jeans by the waistband and tugging them down in one go, briefs included. What followed was most definitely the sloppiest blowjob Jake had given in his life. With one look at Bradley's cock, he had licked a fat stripe from the hilt of Bradley's cock to the head before swallowing him down. His chin was wet with spit at the end and there were dried tear tracks down his cheeks from where he got overconfident at the beginning, trying to take too much too soon. When Bradley came down his throat not long later, it was with a guttural groan of Jake's name and his hands clutched tightly in Jake's hair. 

Sex had never been a problem in their relationship. They did try to slow things down after that first drunken blowjob, but that didn't last long. Bradley fulfilled his promise of at least taking him on a date before they had sex again, but by the end of the night, Jake had invited him into his old apartment, and Bradley fucked him so thoroughly that night - and again in the morning - that his ass had twinged for almost two days. 

He's not sure where this dry spell had come from. It was sudden. With Bradley's deployment creeping closer, the amount of paperwork he needed to get done was exponential, and when Jake entered Bradley's office almost two months ago, there was a stack of paper so high he was afraid it would topple over. It didn't take him long to notice the lack of sex either - "My body is so exhausted I don't think I could get it up, Jake," "Let's just go to sleep, baby," "I won't make it home before you're asleep" - but he never tried to talk to Bradley about. He's not sure where he'd even start, and in all honesty, he doesn't want to sound like a needy, whiny boyfriend. They're comfortable in their relationship, worn in like an old glove. He doesn't want to ruin what they have. 

There's silence on the other end of the phone. "I'm sorry the last few weeks with Bradley aren't going as you hoped, Jake," Javy breaks the silence, sounding sincere. Jake knows he is - Javy's always been an empathetic person. It's the reason they became friends in the first place. Javy was one of the only people not turned off by the prickly exterior of Jake Seresin, the asshole from Texas as everyone else liked to call him. He was certainly the only one who saw behind the facade, saw the confused, lonely boy in there. 

Frustrated, Jake lets his head fall into his arms, his groan muffled. "Help, Javy. What am I supposed to do?" he says. "I'm at the end of my rope here, man." 

"I don't know what to tell you, Jake!" Javy laughs, and then says, "It's not like I've ever had a relationship last long enough to have a dry spell. This is my first vacation with Cami." 

God, maybe he should have called Natasha. She's always been the wise one, especially when it comes to relationships. She and Tyler met when she was fresh out of the academy, and they've been married for five years already. He's sure that sex isn't the first priority when you've just had a baby, but - 

"You're the only one I can go to about this, Javy. Natasha would kill me if I ever implied to her face that she wasn't getting some, or laugh in my face." Yeah, he's not doing that. Bradley would be mortified if he ever found out that Jake was so sexually frustrated he went to other people for advice. Javy is never going to say anything, loyal to a fault, but Nat has a loose tongue when she's a few drinks in. He can't risk it. "Tell me what to do," he pleads. 

How far the mighty have fallen. 

"I don't know, Jake, buy some fucking lingerie or tie Bradshaw to your bed, what kind of advice am I supposed to give you here?" 

By the sharp intake of breath he hears from the other end of the phone, he can guess Javy is equally as mortified by what he just blurted out as Jake is. Even though he knows he's alone, Jake looks around frantically for anyone who might have heard him, flushing from head to toe. If he were to look in a mirror now, he knows he'd be beet red. 

"Sorry," Javy mumbles through the phone, obviously just as embarrassed as Jake is. "I don't know where that came from," Javy says, humor back in his voice. Jake even manages a small smile. "The only advice I can give you is to talk to him about it, Jake. Seriously." 

Jake feels like he's aged ten years in the last few minutes and he sighs heavily again, anxiously running a hand through his hair. "I guess I know that," he admits in the end. "Thanks for letting me vent though, man." 

"Don't worry about it, Jake," Javy replies. "Just … let me know how that conversation goes. I need to know if I need to come back to kick Bradshaw's ass." 

Jake laughs, tension loosening from his chest. "Sure. Now go back to your girlfriend. Don't want her to complain about the same thing as I am right now, huh?" He can hear Javy let out an outraged squawk before he hangs up without waiting for a response, laughing. 

Now he just needs to find the perfect moment to talk to Bradley. Great. 

Later that night as he's laying in bed, he's almost forgotten the conversation with Javy. Bradley came back a bit earlier than expected, so they used the precious time to take a walk down the beach, pushing their feet into the sand and letting the ocean slowly lap at their ankles when they walked further down the shore. It was peaceful, quiet. 

It's clear that Bradley's exhausted, the hop early that morning and the disagreement between Replay and Flipper sucking out all his energy for the day. It's a wonder he even had the energy for their short walk, honestly. 

It's no surprise then that Bradley all but flops on the bed when he comes out the bathroom, freshly showered and just in clean boxer briefs. He cuddles in behind Jake, warmth along his back as he throws an arm around Jake's waist. 

"Night, baby," Bradley says, his voice already rough, and nuzzles into the nape of Jake's neck, pressing a quick peck to the skin there. Jake just hums, quiet while he thinks. Eventually, he decides it's time to man up. 

"Bradley?" he asks, not rolling over just yet. This conversation might be easier if he doesn't have to look at Bradley, see the confusion and hurt on his face. 

"Hmm," Bradley mumbles, nuzzling into his neck a second time. Jake stays quiet; he's not really sure how to approach the subject. 

"Look, I don't even know where to start, but …" he breaks off. Where the hell is all of his confidence? Jesus Christ, he needs to get a grip. It's not like Bradley is going to leave him over this. "Okay, I'm just going to come right out with it. I think we've been spending too little time together the last two months. I know you've been busy with your squad and I know there's been a few hiccups, believe me, I get it, but you're leaving soon. We're not going to see each other in person for nine months, and don't you think we should maybe, I don't know … for God's sake, have more sex?"

He's aware he's rambling, but once he's done, he sighs. There, he's finally said something.

He waits for Bradley to tense behind him, rip his arm away, say something, do anything, only nothing happens. Bradley's presence behind him is as relaxed as he was before, breathing evenly and tickling the short hairs at the back of Jake's head.

"Bradley?" he asks again, louder, before he turns around in Bradley's arms and … looks right into his boyfriend's sleeping face. 

He stares in disbelief for what must be a good minute or two as Bradley doesn't move a muscle, doesn't even twitch. When Bradley starts softly snoring in his face, he turns back around roughly and crosses his arms across his chest. He doesn't care that Bradley's arm falls off of his waist with the movement, lying lax in the space between their bodies. It takes him another hour to fall asleep.

__________

I don't know, Jake, buy some fucking lingerie or tie Bradshaw to your bed, what kind of advice am I supposed to give you here? 

He knows it was supposed to be a joke, said by Javy in an effort to get out of a conversation he really didn't want to have. It wasn't meant to be taken seriously. Jake wasn't going to take it seriously. So he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing here, in his fucking office of all places, typing lingerie in the search bar. He's supposed to be in the cafeteria in half an hour to meet his friends - sans Bradley who is on another practice hop - so he's not sure why exactly Javy's off-hand comment had come to him. Apparently he's an idiot though, so instead of getting some more grading done, he takes out his phone and opens up Google.

The first results that come up feature women in frilly lingerie sets made for their petite waists and large breasts. Those won't work. Jake tries again with a search for "men's lingerie," glad no one is around to see the blush on his face. The first store in the list, Soft Silk, looks promising. The page that loads features men in nightwear pajamas and silk boxer briefs. It's easy enough to navigate to the lingerie section on the website, aptly named The Bedroom Edit. 

All air promptly leaves Jake's lungs as he processes what he's seeing, head swimming. The very first picture has a gorgeous man wearing what appears to be a lacy bodysuit made entirely of straps crisscrossing across his body, and when he reads crotchless in the description, he promptly loses his mind. Fucking hell. He doesn't have any control over his thoughts as he tries to imagine how he would look in that bodysuit, how the lace would feel on his skin. Would the fabric feel scratchy? Would the straps dig into him, frame his waist and pecs? He can't help but think of Bradley, how it would feel to have him kiss the exposed skin, the way his mustache would scratch, his hand slowly trailing up Jake's inner thigh. His cock throbs in the tight confines of his uniform pants, and he presses the heel of his hand against it, trying desperately to stave of the growing erection. Why did he decide to look up lingerie at work? 

He scrolls past the strappy bodysuit - he's not sure how crotchless would work on him, the image of his cock just freely hanging under his clothes isn't that appealing - but keeps his hand on his cock, to be safe. The first items he adds to his shopping cart are black panties with scalloped lace, a thicker waistband, and a style they call cheekies. The next panties he finds are more daring - a firetruck red thong with a high waistband and the straps covered in shiny rhinestones. It's definitely less coverage at the front than the cheekies, but should be just enough to hold everything in. He tries not to think too long about how he would look in the panties, how the rhinestone straps and high waistband would look against the V of his hips. His throat is as dry as the Sahara, and he has to push his hand harder against his cock, so he moves on. 

Jake keeps scrolling for a while, adding another pair of black panties to his cart that are the same style as the red ones, just to keep his options open. If he's really going to wear lingerie for Bradley, he's going to look so fucking good that Bradley is not going to have any other option than to fuck him over the nearest solid object. 

Jake's not going to add any form of bodysuit or bra to his cart. Bradley loves playing with his chest, squeezing his pecs and sucking on his nipples, and the thought of Bradley licking over lacy fabric covering Jake's nipples … no, he's definitely not ready for that. 

He's pretty happy with his selection so far and is just about to check out when his breath catches in his throat at the next picture that loads. He stares at it for what must be a solid minute before he shakily exhales and adds it to his cart. 

If this isn't going to get Bradley to fuck him, he might have to consider breaking up with him.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

__________

The lingerie gets delivered two days later with expedited shipping. He's at home that day, luck on his side for once. He's not sure how he would have coped if the delivery man had to leave the package at their neighbor's house. The cardboard box it comes in is a dark gray with the words Soft Silk right on top. What if his neighbors know the store? They all know no women live here. 

His original plan had been to try on the lingerie immediately, decide what to wear and wait for Bradley to come home. Instead, his courage leaves him almost as soon as he opens the box. Everything is artistically folded up in gold tissue paper, but when Jake sees a tiny hint of turquoise peeking through, he slams the flaps of the box closed again. What the actual fuck is he doing? 

Finding a hiding place for his fucking lingerie is harder than he thought. He tries stashing it in the wardrobe at first, before he remembers that Bradley will start packing soon, and he'll probably take their whole bedroom apart while he does so - just like last time. After trying the rest of the house, he eventually settles for a random storage closet in the hallway. The first thing that greets him when he opens the door is a bunch of dust and a ridiculous amount of Christmas decorations. Yeah, Bradley is sure as fuck not gonna look in here before he leaves. 

With the lingerie safely hidden among a box of hideous green tree ornaments and tinsel, it's almost like he never bought it in the first place.  Almost .

He reaches his breaking point with Bradley a few days later. Bradley's deployment is now right around the corner, and the last time he saw Bradley was for breakfast yesterday morning - that day, he got home so late that Jake was asleep, and when he woke up in the morning it was to a post-it note on the bedside table that read left for work early, don't know when i'll be home tonight.

Enough is enough. Instead of spending time together, getting in their share of sex, they've now reached a point where they don't even see each other. He knows if he leaves it like this, the last time they're going to have some semblance of sex is going to be Jake giving Bradley a hurried blowjob the day he leaves. And then Jake is going to be stuck with his own hand for nine months. 

He's read online that sometimes, relationships can enter a sort of rut, once you've been together for a while. His relationship with Bradley is the longest he's ever had. Before Bradley, his longest relationship had been with his high school sweetheart, which lasted for just under a year and broke off when he left for the academy. He had no use in continuing a doomed relationship, Jake told his ex-girlfriend. He was moving thousands of miles away and probably not returning to Texas for years, not that he ever wanted to. In response, Winnie had slapped him hard across the face, eyes teary as she called him an asshole. But even before then, they had been horny teenagers. So this rut, it's taken him completely by surprise. He never thought Bradley and he would be that kind of couple that stops having sex.

Not that it's gonna stay that way. 

It takes him almost all day to work up the courage again to open that storage closet, the sky a beautiful burnt orange already. He spent most of the day trying to pass the time - making a light salad for lunch, making plans with Javy for when he comes back from Joshua Tree, biting his nails and awkwardly pacing around the living room. Of course there was also the hour and a half he spent in the bathroom, showering and then shaving his legs. About a year and a half ago he sprained his knee and spent weeks taping it up with kinetic tape, so he wasn't that unfamiliar with shaving his legs. Back then, he only shaved the part he needed to tape up, so shaving both legs took him longer than he would like to admit. 

Just to be sure, he sent Bradley a text earlier today asking him how long he would be in the office, and his reply had been short and to the point: about to go on practice hop, probs won't be home before 10, paperwork after. If this weren't exactly what he was counting on, Jake would be pissed.

Even though it's only been a few days, the lingerie box is already covered in a fine layer of dust when he takes it out of its hiding place. At least it assures him that Bradley hasn't found it yet. Maybe he can use that storage closet again to hide Bradley's birthday presents for next year. 

This time, Jake doesn't slam the box shut again after opening it. Instead, he slowly peels back the gold tissue paper, blood thrumming in his veins and cock twitching at all the lace he sees. Gingerly he picks up the first pair of panties, hard not to miss with their firetruck red color, and runs his hands over the lace. It's incredibly soft to the touch, not at all scratchy like he thought it would be. A flash of turquoise catches his eye, and he carefully lays the red thong to the side, reaching into the box again. 

The turquoise panties are made with soft scalloped lace. The cut is more cheeky than thong, but it's the back that truly makes the panties stand out against the rest - it's split down the middle, not quite crotchless but certainly made for … easier access. Just looking at them makes Jake's cock throb again, getting harder the longer he looks at the panties. He didn't just buy the panties though. The garter belt is embroidered with little flowers and has a lace-up back, and the stockings, while not made of lace, are made with see through, turquoise nylon with a little bow clip at the top to connect to the garter straps. 

He keeps running his hands over the softness of the material for a few minutes before he manages to pull himself out of his stupor and get to work. He still has to try everything on. If it doesn't fit, the whole plan won't work. 

Jake hadn't bothered to put on more than his boxer briefs after the shower, and he pulls them down and off now, throwing them carelessly in the direction of the laundry basket. If his plan works out, Bradley won't care about the mess when he eventually makes it home. Jake's now hard cock slaps against his abs, precome already welling a little at the tip, just from him touching the lingerie. He ignores it - if he wants any chance of getting into the panties, he needs to calm down a little bit. Picking up the panties and pulling them up his legs feels surreal, and the feel of the lace on his freshly shaved legs feels erotic. When he manages to pull the panties past his hips, he moans wantonly. 

The panties are stretchy, but even then, his cock strains against the lace. Jake's fingers twitch, itching to touch himself, but he refrains for now. Otherwise this whole show is going to be over before it even really starts. 

Trying to figure out how the garter works distracts him for a while. Eventually, he figures out how to open the lace-up at the back, and wraps it around his waist, just above his hips. He's glad that he went for the garter belt that needs to be laced up in the back. Even though he ordered the biggest size on the website, the strings are pulled as tight as they can be, and he barely managed to tie them up. 

Embarrassingly enough, he has to watch a Youtube tutorial on how to get the nylons up his legs. Jake only ordered one pair - if he rips them, the whole get-up will look ridiculous without the stockings, the straps on the garter belt just dangling around his hips. It's a tight fit and he's sweating by the time he connects the clips at the top of the stockings to the garter belt, breathing heavily. He sure feels a lot more sympathy for any women that have to wear tights regularly. 

With everything on, he adjusts his cock in the panties again and gingerly walks towards the mirror leaning against the wall in their bedroom. When he finally sees his reflection, he nearly creams himself right then and there, hand shooting straight to his cock and squeezing hard. 

Oh dear god. Bradley's going to be in for a wild ride. 

__________

Just as he predicted, when Jake rolls up to base, there is only essential personnel walking around. There are a dozen or so cars parked in the parking lot closest to the building Bradley works from, so he pulls his Audi up right next to the Bronco, easily recognizable with its garish blue color. From here, it's only a short, four-minute walk to Bradley's office. 

He ends up making it in just above three minutes; even though the jeans and loose crew neck he's wearing show nothing of the lingerie he has on underneath, his pace is quick. If he runs into anyone he might know on the way, Jake knows he's going to chicken out, turn right around and go back home to stuff the lingerie in the trash. Lucky for him - and Bradley - the hallway to Bradley's office is empty when he reaches it. Even the secretary stationed at the desk in front has gone home already. Down the hallway, Jake can see a light shining from the office right at the end. The few seconds it takes Jake to reach the door feel like an eternity, time moving like molasses. The blinds behind the glass panel on the door are drawn shut, the bright yellow light from inside just barely peeking through the gaps, illuminating the LtCdr. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw vinyl on the glass. 

Sweat beading on his forehead, he focuses on that instead of all the emotions swirling in his gut - shame excitement dread arousal and everything in between. He feels rooted to the spot, his feet like blocks of cement anchoring him to the linoleum floor. If … no, once he goes through with this, there's no going back. They've never actively played around with feminization in their sex life. Sure, Bradley likes to obsess over his chest a bit, but that's all. They haven't talked about it. Bradley calls him baby, sure, but he's never tagged on the girl to it, even in bed. Truly, this is a hare-brained idea. The thought of the uncomfortable conversation they're in for if Bradley isn't into it is enough to make Jake's skin crawl. 

One way or another, they're gonna talk about the lack of sex these last two months. Jake's going to go insane if they don't.

It must be a good minute or two that Jake stands there, not moving, before he straightens his spine and thinks, fuck this and knocks on the door. 

Bradley's reply comes only a few seconds later, more question than answer, "Come in?" It's no surprise, given the time of day. No one around at this hour would ever need to bother Bradley.

Determined, Jake opens the door and steps inside the office. The blinds are drawn shut on the big window behind the desk, but Jake's been in here enough that he knows exactly what the window opens to; the base church. Shame curdles in his gut again that he quickly squashes down. 

Bradley's standing behind his desk, dressed in his khakis, sleeves bulging over his thick arms. 

There's confusion written all over his face as he watches Jake close the door behind him. "Jake? What are you doing here?" he asks, rounding the desk. 

"My plans for the evening fell through. I thought I'd come by and see how you were doing with the paperwork," he replies, and adds on a sarcastic, "Can't have you getting too slow again, huh," at the end. It makes Bradley snort out a laugh, eyes crinkling. Apart from this, there were no plans for the evening, but what Bradley doesn't know won't kill him.

They smile at each other for a moment before Jake breaks the silence. "So what are you working on?" he asks, walking over to the desk. Bradley sits down, opening the folder he had been writing in before Jake interrupted him. Standing behind Bradley, Jake peeks over his shoulder to have a look. 

"It's just a report on today's practice hop for Admiral Carter," Bradley explains, and Jake hums. When Bradley starts telling him about the hop, Jake's eyes flit over the folder, his mind going about a hundred miles an hour. He's here now, but he still needs to find a way to get this show on the road, to make Bradley notice the lingerie. 

His eyes fall on the pile of folders stacked precariously right at the edge of the desk, and ever so slowly, he reaches out with his right arm to support himself on the desk, hunching over Bradley. His pinky brushes against the stack of folders and a shiver runs down his spine. So close. 

"Oh, you want to have a closer look?" Bradley must think he can't really see the open folder on his desk, because he leans slightly to the left, making more room for Jake. 

"Yeah, I - …" Jake says, and then in one swift move, pushes with his pinky so hard the whole pile of folders topples right off the desk and onto the floor. "Shit, sorry!" he yelps. 

With a smirk that Bradley can't see, Jake bends over to pick everything back up. He can feel and hear the exact moment Bradley spots the turquoise lace underneath his clothes. His loose crew neck rides up with the movement, and right as feels a light gust of air on his almost bare skin, Bradley's "It's fine, J-..." cuts off mid-word, and Jake hears the clatter of a pen dropping on the floor. 

The office is so silent you can hear a feather fall, and Jake uses the moment to collect all the folders in his arms and stand back up. He tries to keep his expression casual as he turns back around, but he can feel his upper lip twitching with humor. Bradley's frozen in place, still staring at the spot where Jake had bent over, as if he's trying to process what he's just seen. 

"Everything okay, babe?" Jake wonders, trying hard not to laugh. It seems to snap Bradley out of his trance, because he starts coughing like he's trying to clear his throat. 

"Jake, that - … what, uhm …" Bradley mumbles, running a hand through his hair before he finally looks Jake in the face and tries again. "What do you have under that sweater, Jake?" he asks. Jake's trying to keep his smile innocent, but it comes out more like a smirk. 

"Oh, that! I'm trying out something new," he says and pulls up the hem of his shirt to reveal the very top of the panties and the garter belt strapped around his waist. "You think it's working for me?" he wonders out loud, taking in every tiny expression that runs over Bradley's face as his eyes fall on the lingerie. 

His mouth drops open and Jake can hear Bradley suck in a sharp breath as his hand slowly, at an almost glacial pace, reaches out to touch the lace over Jake's skin. His thumb rubs lightly over the waistband of the panties, right over where his hip bone juts out, Bradley's eyes following the movement like he's transfixed.

"Jake." His name comes out more like a whisper, and Jake hums in question. He's enjoying this way too much already. 

Bradley repeats the motion with his thumb for a while before Jake decides it's time to put him out of his misery. "You want to see the rest?" he questions, and Bradley's hand pulls back as if burned, honey-brown eyes snapping up to meet Jake's gaze. 

"The rest?" There's a quiver in Bradley's voice that wasn't there before. 

Taking a step back, Jake pulls the crew neck over his head in one smooth move, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the door. He kicks off his shoes and doesn't waste any time reaching for the zipper of his jeans and tugging them down his legs. Even in his haste, he's trying to be careful with it - he doesn't want the rough fabric of the denim or the zipper to get caught on the nylon. Nerves flutter in his belly like butterflies as he stands before Bradley in just the lingerie, the only sound in the room Bradley's labored breathing. 

Even if Jake couldn't read his boyfriend's face like a book after so long, it wouldn't be hard to miss the change in Bradley's expression as he's seemingly finished taking in the situation. Jake is observing him so closely, taking in every twitch of his facial muscles that he can see the change happen right in front of his face; Bradley's pupils widen incrementally, eyes going hard, and the corners of his mouth pull up into a lazy, mischievous smirk. 

Oh. 

Jake doesn't even have enough time to open his mouth, maybe give Bradley a smart-alecky comment about finally getting off his perch, as Bradley firmly grabs him by the hips and pulls. He goes tumbling forward with an embarrassing yelp, and stumbles clumsily into Bradley's lap. The force of it sends the rolling chair backward, and even though the chair wasn't that far away from the wall - it's a small office, after all - they crash into the wall with enough oomph that it makes both of them grunt. 

"Holy shit, what - …" Anything Jake was going to say gets cut off by Bradley grabbing his chin and pulling him into a bruising kiss, the rest of his sentence turning into a pleased moan. He can taste the sharp, acidic note of coffee on Bradley's lips, feel the burn of Bradley's mustache irritate the area around his mouth. 

This is the dirtiest they've kissed in a while, lips already slick with spit, so he's happy to just continue like this, but predictably, it turns into something else not long later. Bradley's hands, which have been gripping his hips tight enough to bruise - fuck yes - loosen their hold, and then one of the hands is traveling south, caressing over Jake's ass and the soft lace with a featherlight touch. Jake pushes back into the pressure, moaning softly into Bradley's mouth. 

Eventually though, Jake has to break the kiss to gasp for air, but he doesn't stray far, instead choosing to bury his face in Bradley's neck, panting into the skin and occasionally kissing his scars. 

Bradley's breath is hot on the shell of his ear as he mutters "Hmm, now what is this?" hand squeezing at Jake's ass and fingers trailing along the seam of the split in the back of the panties. One of Bradley's thick fingers dips into the cleft of Jake's ass, rubbing dry against his rim. In response, Jake bites down on Bradley's shoulder and Bradley's hand not currently occupied shoots out to grasp the edge of the desk. 

"Shit."

"You are such a tease, Bradshaw," Jake says, delighted at having cracked Bradley's steely resolve. Bradley kisses the smug smile off his face with another bruising press of his mouth against his.

"You know I am, baby."

Apparently Bradley's endless patience runs out not long later, because he taps Jake's side, tells him to hold on tight and doesn't even give him more than a moment's notice before he wraps his hands around Jake's thighs and stands up from the chair with Jake clinging to him like a koala. 

Oh, sweet mother of Jesus. 

Jake almost comes in his panties right then and there when Bradley hoists him up higher before removing one hand to sweep all the paperwork off his desk, biceps bulging under the strain of holding Jake up. Once it's mostly empty, he unceremoniously drops Jake on the wood. 

"Oh, fuck yes," Jake hisses, his arms immediately falling from Bradley's shoulders to fumble with the belt of his trousers while Bradley licks into his mouth again. Jake manages to get it undone without interrupting the kiss and soon after, he's tugging them down in one go along with his underwear. For a brief second, his mind flashes back to the dingy bathroom of the Hard Deck, the very first time they did this. He's definitely not giving Bradley a blowjob right now though - he wants to get fucked. 

The trousers land on the floor at Bradley's feet with a clatter and without missing a beat, he wraps his fingers around Bradley's already hard cock. 

"Fuck," Bradley mutters brokenly against Jake's lips. The drag is mostly dry, but Bradley still thrusts into Jake's fist, panting into his mouth. One of Bradley's hands' traces along Jake's nylon-covered thigh, the other leaning heavily on the desk in a similar fashion to how Jake leaned on it earlier. The sensation of it drives Jake crazy; even through the fabric, he can feel the heat of Bradley's palm, but it's subdued, almost tickling his skin. 

Gracelessly, Jake thrusts up against Bradley. "Fuck me," he says, and for a minute, it seems like Bradley wants to agree, before Jake laughs and twists one hand into Bradley's hair, tugging on the golden brown curls. "Seriously, Bradley. Fuck me."

"Right, okay," Bradley replies. It seems like all the blood in his body has already traveled south, directly into his cock instead of to his brain. Jake rolls his eyes and then nuzzles against Bradley's jaw. "Lube?" 

Bradley goes shock-still. "Shit, baby, I don't think - …" He doesn't get further before Jake interrupts him. 

"Back pocket of my jeans, sweetheart." 

Bradley gives him a fleeting kiss before retrieving the lube from his jeans, coming back with the three little packets Jake had torn apart their bathroom to find. 

Jake complies wordlessly when Bradley tells him "Turn around," bending over the desk. The wood is incredibly cold on his bare skin and sends goosebumps down his body. He tries hard not to think about how he's presenting his ass to the window, to the base church behind the closed blinds. Against his will, his cheeks flush, and Jake knows he'll be pink all the way down his neck and chest. 

He senses the heat of Bradley's body before he feels lips press at the nape of his neck, kissing down his spine while Bradley spreads his cheeks, one lubed-up finger already prodding at his rim. 

"Relax, baby," Bradley says, voice sweet like honey. Jake grips the edge of the desk when the first finger slides in up to the first knuckle, breathing in deep for five and then exhaling for five. He keeps it up until Bradley's up to the third finger, until the discomfort has turned to pleasure that's thrumming through his veins. 

Bradley's fingers crook, finding his prostate easily, and Jake pushes into it, needy and begging for more with his body. "Fuck," he pants. "Get on with it, Bradley, please." 

"Turn around," Bradley replies, "I want to see your face when you come in your panties, baby. We're keeping these on." 

The loss of Bradley's fingers feels weird for a minute, his rim clenching around nothing and Jake struggles to push himself up, arms already shaky just from being fingered. Bradley guides him gently back and Jake wraps his legs around Bradley's waist while he scoots to the edge of the desk. 

Jake is almost beyond speech when Bradley presses into him, eyes fluttering closed, the noises he's making loud and absolutely shameless. 

"Jake, c'mon, I want to see you, "Bradley murmurs, "Show me those pretty eyes." 

Jake obliges, gazing into Bradley's eyes as Bradley uses his free hand that's not supporting his body on the desk to pull one of Jake's legs higher so it's curved around his waist. Jake is grateful for it - it's easier for him, legs already quivering, and it immediately changes the angle, giving him more leverage to move. 

He tries to grab at any part of Bradley as he starts pounding into Jake; he's been waiting for this for  weeks  and he's greedy for it, trying to meet each thrust of Bradley's hips. The sound of skin slapping on lace-covered skin through the tiny room is obscene, music to Jake's ears. 

"Fuck, Jake," Bradley chokes out, threading his fingers through Jake's hair and tugging his head back so his neck is bared. He leans forward to bite kisses into Jake's skin and Jake knows that as soon as they turn purple, Bradley's going to press on them and enjoy watching the evidence of tonight on his skin, there for everyone to see. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby," Bradley murmurs against Jake's skin. 

Jake makes a noise he's sure he's never made before, trying to imagine how he looks right now - spread over Bradley's desk, stocking-covered legs hitched around Bradley's bare waist, in his panties and with the garter belt emphasizing the curve of his torso. 

"C'mon, please, I'm so close." He's desperate for it, clinging to Bradley and trying to pull him even closer. He scratches his blunt nails across Bradley's still-clothed back; he wishes he had taken his uniform shirt off, just so he could leave evidence of tonight on Bradley's body. Bradley reaches down, and Jake thinks he's finally going to fully take his cock out of his panties - the head is already peeking out of the waistband - but his hand wanders lower, further and further down until Bradley presses one of his fingers on his already stretched out rim. He presses just the very tip of it inside alongside the thickness of his cock, and Jake is done for. 

"Oh - oh, fuck, fuck," Jake shouts, and then he falls over the edge, pressing his face into Bradley's chest as he fills the panties with come. All it takes is for Bradley to look down, to see the mess he made of the delicate lace, to see the come that landed on Jake's abs and then he's squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hips stuttering before he stills completely. Jake moans at the feeling of Bradley coming inside of him.

They come down together, Bradley leaning his full weight on Jake's, panting into Jake's neck, while Jake absentmindedly plays with the curly hairs at the nape of Bradley's neck. 

"That was - " Jake stops himself from completing the sentence with a huff of breath and then pulls Bradley's face out of his neck instead, into a kiss that's slower and more gentle than he was planning. Like Bradley isn't still inside him, like his come isn't starting to dry in his panties. Like he's not laying on Bradley's desk in his tiny office in the middle of base, like they didn't lock the -. 

"Oh fuck!" Jake's head shoots up, craning his neck uncomfortably before he turns back to look at Bradley with shocked eyes. "We didn't lock the fucking door!" 

Bradley's eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. Jake swats at his shoulder, frowning. "That's not fucking funny, your cock is still in my ass, what if someone came in?" he asks. "Oh my god." 

Bradley is still chuckling to himself. "You kind of threw me for a loop here, sweetheart," he says, "I was a little preoccupied with the freaking lingerie you had on to think about the door." 

Jake knows he's right; he should have locked the door straight after he entered the office. "Well, it's done now," he mutters. "Now get your cock out of my ass, all the come is drying and I feel disgusting. Please tell me you have baby wipes somewhere in here." 

__________

An hour later, they're both laying in bed at home, still damp from the joint shower they just had when Bradley brings up the lingerie again. 

"You know," Bradley starts as he's playing with Jake's hair, "It's not like I didn't appreciate the surprise, baby, but what exactly led you to show up in panties to my office?" His voice is light, nonchalant, but Jake still tenses up from where he's laying with his head on Bradley's chest. 

Sighing, he pushes himself up on his elbows. Better to have this conversation when he can look into Bradley's eyes, when Bradley can read his face and see that he's not angry with him. 

"When was the last time we had sex?" 

"Last - …" Bradley's answer cuts off as his face scrunches up in confusion before his eyes widen, something akin to horror dawning on his face. "Fuck." 

Jake can practically see Bradley's mind running, going a hundred miles an hour as he desperately tries to think back to the last time they fucked. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jake covers it with his hand. "Shush." 

There's guilt shining in Bradley's eyes, but Jake waits until it seems like Bradley's not going to try to say anything immediately once his mouth is free again to shift his hand, cupping Bradley's face gently. 

"It's fine," he says. "You don't need to apologize, sweetheart. I know the stress you've been under the last two months, believe me." He waits for Bradley to nod before he continues. "But you're leaving in a few days, and we're not going to see each other for almost nine months. I want us to spend the rest of the time we have together, preferably fucking each other's brains out, not with you in your office and only returning once I'm already in bed, okay?" It's not really a question and Bradley knows not to answer it. 

"I promise I'm not angry," he vows. "I was horny, but we've solved that now, haven't we?" He says the last bit with an easy-going smile, and he watches as Bradley's face relaxes, eyes softening. There's still guilt shining in them, but Jake knows that's going to take a while to disappear. 

"Okay," Bradley says eventually. He looks lost in thought for a moment and then too, he's smiling. His hand resumes playing with Jake's hair as he says "I managed to get most of the paperwork done today - apart from that one form you interrupted me in the middle of, you menace - and there are no more hops scheduled so close to departure, so what do you say we drive up the coast a bit the next few days, to Mav and Penny's little vacation cottage?" 

Jake smiles so radiant that his entire face hurts, pushing himself up to press a kiss to Bradley's lips, even smiling into it. 

"I'm sure you can convince Admiral Carter to give you a few days off, you minx," Bradley mutters into the kiss. 

Jake pulls back and resumes his earlier position, his head on Bradley's chest. He can feel Bradley's heart thumping under his ear and it calms him right down. He's just getting drowsy, eyes drooping, when Bradley pipes up again. 

"You wouldn't have any more of that lingerie, would you? Cause I think those panties are ruined for life."