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Seething jealousy was not an emotion Bradley had expected to feel when he was handed the envelope holding his orders, calling him back to North Island for a mission detachment that they refused to give any more details on until they all arrived.
Then again, he hadn’t expected Mav to be there either and that’s exactly who’d been there. And exactly who the source of said jealousy was.
That part wasn’t all the shocking, to be fair. Bradley’s first experience with the green-eyed monster had centered around Mav. Everything had, for a while. And Bradley was a fiercely jealous child. Anybody or anything that pulled Mav’s attention off of him when he was young earned Bradley’s ire with ease. The worst was always when he had a new girlfriend.
More than once, one of the Flyboys or his mother had to take on the task of distracting him when Mav wanted a night out. There were several times when his whiny begging had caused Mav to cave before he ever made it out the door. And he always came home feeling bad, Bradley figured out, whenever Bradley begged, he would climb in and cuddle with him.
At some point, Bradley outgrew that behavior and it stopped being cute. So he turned it on its side. That’s also right around when his more familial affection for the man took a turn, right at puberty. So he took a new approach. He didn’t whine or beg anymore, but he was pouty, quiet, and distant afterward until Mav made plans for just the two of them. Before long, they had a routine, no matter how deeply the jealousy simmered every time Bradley watched Mav walk out the door to go out for the night and pick a girl up.
He never did tell him about the night he snuck into Mav’s room to steal a shirt from his closet, only for Mav and his flavor of the week to come careening through the door. Bradley threw himself back into the closet and watched through the slits in the door as Mav stripped her scrappy little slip-dress off, shed his own jeans and t-shirt, and fucked her until she screamed. That night was between Bradley and the cum-stain in his underwear.
But to cut a very long story short, after the mission, after they reconciled, Bradley found out that Mav and Penny were back at it for another shot.
Bradley was familiar with Penny. After all, he’d been there for at least three bouts of the ‘on’ part of ‘on and off’. He’d been jealous of her before. But there was something about knowing Mav was off fucking her while he was at home, thinking about it, that sank in differently. As a child, his jealousy had been to scale. As a teenager, it had been petty. But as an adult? Jealousy was a bone-deep source of rage. It was deep, dark, and angry.
Leave it to Mav to stir that back up inside him.
So he started plotting. And Mav fell right into his hands.
And the thing is that it never would’ve worked if Mav hadn’t wanted him from the get-go. So take that, Penny he thinks, smugly.
• • •
Bradley knew from the jump that the only possible avenue to take with Mav would have to be akin to a frog in boiling water. Slow and steady, letting him get more and more accustomed to the slow steps forward before taking another one. Anything too sudden and he’d startle the man away, like a spooked bunny.
Bradley saw the potential lying in wait around the edges. The way Mav responded enthusiastically to physical affection, the way his entire face lit up every day they saw each other, the eagerness with which he greeted the younger aviator, the softer, rosier moments in between the generically friendly moments. Some of it was a leftover form of adoration from a time long since passed. The rest was what Bradley labeled under the umbrella of ‘potential for more’.
The thing Bradley wasn’t sure of was whether Mav’s issue was accepting the concept that he might like more than just women, because he’d more than once caught the pilot ogling other men or growing flustered under their attention despite how oblivious he seemed to the nature of their pursuit, or if the problem he’d be battling with most would be the taboo in Mav’s brain of seeing his godson, who he’d helped raised from a child, in a less-than-platonic light. Either way, he knew he had his work cut out before him because Mav was a very stubborn person with more reluctance for change than he might allow you to believe.
So he started gently. His first step was being more insistent on spending time with Mav more often. Carving a space for himself, making a show of how he made time for Mav in return. This Mav was easily receptive to. Movie nights, lunches out together, catching up over takeout, fixing up or flying the Mustang together, days out on the beach, and even their breaks at work were taken together. If they were around each other a lot before, Bradley cranked the dial up to eleven until he knew Mav was thinking about him in some capacity for at least 80% of his day the majority of the time.
Before long, Mav was the one initiating contact. Mav was the one calling him to plan for the day or the weekend, or just to chat in their off-time, Mav was the one making the venture to Bradley’s office during the workday. Bradley had Mav used to his presence in a way he hadn’t been before, and once Mav gets used to something, he doesn’t like disrupting it. It was working.
Bradley’s next move was to randomly, and sporadically enough to remain inconspicuous, pepper Mav with gifts. Little things, small and simple but enough to communicate that he’d thought of the other man. Things like a plane keychain or a cheap mug with a sports bike on it, little things Mav could keep around to remind him of Bradley.
This gesture was mixed with a sudden increase in physical affection. Bradley played it as though the sudden change was because he’d finally grown comfortable around Mav again, as though their reconciliation’s progress had naturally led such a way, and Mav was extremely receptive from the get-go. Hugs in greeting or farewell, leaning together on the couch during movie nights, brushing hands as they walked, pats on the back occasionally.
And it was right around this point where Bradley’s tactics would have quickly grown ineffective if Mav weren’t open to them. He reminds himself of this fact constantly when the tiny voice in the back of his head whispers at him that they only happened because he manipulated Mav into falling for him, but that’s not something you can do. If Mav hadn’t seen him as an option from the very beginning, it never would’ve worked. He tells himself that over and over again when the anxious part of his brain kicks a fuss before he locks it all away again.
His first move was subtle. Another thing he could play as growing slowly more comfortable in Mav’s presence again, as though previously drawn boundaries were slowly dissipating. And that was peppering in more adult topics into his and Mav’s conversation. Where before he might’ve dawdled over his relationship history or given a brief summary of a raunchy story, he instead offered details and anecdotes. Cementing himself as a fully formed adult, just in case Mav still clung to any reservations of seeing him as a child. And he did so with zero reservations, no shyness to be found.
Mav seemed a little startled the first few times, but as Bradley did it more and more, he relaxed into it and even offered his own stories up in return. Of course, nothing quite edging off into lewd, but locker room talk wasn’t forbidden and they were both accustomed to it amongst their fellow servicemen.
This method was also something Bradley used to test Mav’s receptiveness to male homosexuality. Stories about men he used to date or fuck. Mav never seemed all that startled by it, and eventually opened the door in return, telling Bradley he’d been proudly bisexual for many years. So that wasn’t a battle he had to fight, thankfully.
The next step after this was once again escalating physical contact. Small things, like tossing an arm over Mav’s shoulder when they sat together on the couch or pecking his cheek in greeting. Mav, ever touch-starved, fell right into routine, and was actually the first to interlock their hands together during a tender moment in a movie they watched together one weekend. Bradley smiled into the back of his hand, knowing he’d made so much progress in so little time.
Next, Bradley began finding himself in a state of casual undress a bit more often. Shedding his shirt against the heat, stripping down to his boxers on a movie night, and then borrowing Mav’s baggiest hoodie which barely fit him after complaining of the cold, making coffee in his underwear and waiting around until he heard Mav on his way to the kitchen, having no qualms about walking around with just a towel on after a shower despite Mav’s presence. This was when Bradley knew for sure that it was working, because Mav was not as subtle as he likely tried to be with his staring.
Then the clothes borrowing became a little more commonplace. Whether it was the hoodie because he was “so fucking cold, Mav, I’m serious” or a pair of socks because his “feet get cold easy, I can’t help it!” or underwear because he “forgot to pack any for the weekend” or a t-shirt because he “got this one all stained with grease helping you with the Mustang earlier”.
Staples of Mav’s closet found their way into his hands and Bradley wore them as often as he could get by with parading Mav’s own clothing in front of him. His personal favorite was a hoodie he’d borrowed after claiming to have “lost” the first one, which fit him like a crop top. Mav had stared at his exposed midriff all night.
It was at about this point that Penny started to pick up on the fact that something was different. And Bradley remembered, in vivid detail, the night he and Mav came into The Hard Deck to meet up with the other Daggers and Bradley was wearing one of Mav’s favorite sleep shirts, just baggy enough to fit him snugly, a worn Zeppelin tee he’d bought back before they were worldwide famous. Bradley had gone up to the bar to order the group’s drinks and he’d had to bite back a smirk when she stared with confused intent at the shirt before going to make their drinks. He felt her eyes on his back the whole night and he grinned into his beer every time he knew she was staring at him and so was Mav.
The next thing Bradley introduced was casually cuddling during movie nights. Sure, before they might’ve leaned together or slung an arm over each other, but Bradley nestled his head down onto Mav’s shoulder one night and there was no going back from there. Mav reciprocated without a moment of hesitation, leaning back into him and curling an arm over his shoulder, threading his fingers into Bradley’s curls. Bradley couldn’t have orchestrated it to go better. So snuggling up tight on the couch became a more common occurrence.
After three months had passed of Bradley occasionally wearing Mav’s clothes and watching his green eyes go misty with veiled lust, he finally rounded them all up, washed them in his detergent, packed them into a box that he misted with his favorite cologne, and set them in the corner of his bedroom for a few days. By the time he handed them back to Mav, each and every inch of fabric was downright steeped in his natural scent. Mav had a sensitive nose, Bradley’s presence would linger for a long while after that.
Plus the one pair of boxers that he buried at the very bottom of the box, a pair he’d worn to bed one night, that he’d worn while fantasizing about Mav and grinding himself against his mattress until he spilled into the dark fabric, the pair he kept on while he slept that night and never washed. He rinsed it so the stain wasn’t quite so obvious, but it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist for Mav to figure out what it was.
All in all, Bradley had worked his ass off to end up with Mav right where he wanted him. The only real problem at that point was Penny. Because Mav wasn’t the type to cheat. But every man had his breaking point, Bradley just had to find the right pressure point and squeeze.
As it turned out, Bradley didn’t have to do anything. Penny played them both right into his hands.
• • •
It all fell together on Mav’s birthday. Now, the original plan was that Bradley and Mav had breakfast together the morning before Mav went with Penny for an all-day sailing trip. They were supposed to get back to shore at dusk, just in time to change and make it to an 8 PM reservation at a fancy restaurant in LA.
And at first, the day went as planned. Mav and Bradley went to a little fry-up diner on North Island for breakfast and chatted over pancakes, then Bradley watched Mav ride off on his Kawasaki, jealousy bubbling in his stomach that roared just like the Bronco’s engine when he fired it up. He headed back to his housing, trying not to linger on the thought of what the couple was up to out on the water. If they’d even made it that far. Bradley knew, from having shared a wall with the man at one time, that he and Penny were matched in libido. And based on how many hickeys Bradley had spied on Mav’s neck and shoulders in the past few months, that particular trait hadn’t dulled with age.
Regardless, Bradley was doing his best to ignore the idea of the pair finding a way to fuck out on the open seas like Mav had alluded to once, in their raunchier late-night discussions. He definitely wasn’t thinking too hard about the image of Mav laying Penny out on the deck of her sailboat, yanking her jeans down, and lapping at her pussy like it was a meal. And he definitely wasn’t imagining himself in the same position, with the scent of the salty sea breeze and the mist of the waves on his skin.
Bradley was pulled from his musing by a knock at the door. He sighed and moseyed over to the door of his housing. When he pulled the door open, he expected Phoenix or Bob, maybe even Hangman. What he found was a distraught and damp Mav. Stood there with a blank stare, his hair drenched down from the spikes he’d styled his short cut into just that morning, instead hanging down into his face limply. The denim of his jeans was spotty, like they’d started to dry but hadn’t finished just yet. His t-shirt was dry enough to not be fully transparent, unfortunately, but was visibly damp. The only dry thing on him was his jacket, the fur soft and the leather undamaged.
“Mav?” Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed and his voice displayed every ounce of his confusion.
“Um,” Mav shook himself from his stupor, seemingly a little out of it, “You mind if I hang out here for the day?”
“I don’t mind,” Bradley shook his head, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow Mav to step in, “But I have to be honest, I am a little confused…I thought you had plans with Penny?”
“I did,” Mav chuckled a little bitterly, “Plans change.”
“What…happened?” Bradley questioned tentatively, leading him into the kitchen. This sounded like a cup of coffee type of discussion.
“We got into a fight,” Mav shrugged, shedding his jacket and laying it over a chair.
“Over what?” Bradley’s brows furrowed in confusion once more.
Mav sighed and began to explain. Come to find out, Penny made a sarcastic comment about Mav’s whereabouts all morning when he came to pick her up. Mav didn’t say anything, but she was huffy the entire way to the docks. When Mav finally asked what the issue was, they were loading their gear for the day onto her sailboat and she snapped, all her built-up frustration about Mav’s torn attention and Bradley’s strange behavior bubbling over. It turned into a back-and-forth, not quite a screaming match, but a very tense and charged argument.
The tipping point was when Mav told her “Well, sue me for wanting to be involved in his life now that he actually wants something to do with me” and she snapped back with, “Yeah, so why don’t you fuck him instead? Might save us all some time,” while Mav was unmooring the boat. Mav was apparently so startled by the statement that he turned to face her a little too quickly and stumbled, tripping himself and landing in the San Diego bay. Hence the overall dampness.
The fall had broken the tension of the fight but by then, Mav had been so pissed off, he didn’t
say another word, just climbed back out of the bay and took off on his bike.
The concept of the pair arguing was also not something that shocked Bradley. After all, they’d been on and off for a reason. Because their personalities were just flat-out too similar and they clashed just as much as they collided. Sure, Mav had once upon a time stoked Penny’s rebellious spirit, and they clearly had amazing sexual chemistry, and they were always great friends whenever they were just friends. But every time they decided to take another shot, it wasn’t long before the back-and-forth wit and the sex wasn’t enough to sustain things and it either fizzled or blew up. More often than not, it was the latter, and it ended in some argument that started off petty and got blown out of proportion.
What was shocking was the fact that Bradley was the particular catalyst for said fight this time. Not that it wasn’t exactly what Bradley had been aiming for, but damn, if he’d expected it to work out so well.
So he saw an opportunity and he took it. He played pity and talked Mav through a change of plans. Glancing at the time, he proposed they catch the Padres game together and then go out somewhere for dinner. Mav was easy to agree, and they settled together on the couch like always. By the fourth inning, they’d inched together into the approximate version of cuddling that Bradley had worked towards for months. Bradley’s head was leaned over onto Mav’s shoulder, Mav’s bare feet tucked into Bradley’s lap, their hands clasped together.
Bradley turned his face during a commercial break, starting easy by nuzzling the tip of his prominent nose against the crook of Mav’s neck. He watched goosebumps bloom over the older man’s skin with the soft touch but Mav’s eyes remained forward. So Bradley exhaled gently, letting the warmth of his breath caress the delicate skin and Mav shivered, entirely involuntarily. He glanced towards Bradley but he settled, eyes back on the TV within seconds.
So Bradley pressed a little closer, turning his nuzzling a little more insistent. Then suddenly, he licked up Mav’s neck and behind his ear. Mav yelped, “Bradley!” in shock before descending into laughter. Bradley followed him, playing it with playful lightheartedness.
Once they both calmed from their laughter, Mav’s face held a light and easy smile. Bradley had achieved his goal but he yearned to push it further.
So he did.
Head still rested on Mav’s shoulder, he turned to face Mav’s neck and whispered breathily, “You’re beautiful when you smile, you know that?”
It was a hell of an envelope push, a risk, and Bradley knew that. But after months worth of build-up, he held his breath in anticipation, rolling the dice. And he got lucky.
Mav shivered again from the breath on his neck and then turned his head to meet Bradley’s eyes. Bradley had been concerned that his gaze might hold contempt, alarm, or confusion, but it didn’t. Instead, Mav’s green eyes stared at him pointedly, his eyelashes fluttering slightly in what Bradley now knew to be a subtle reaction to mounting lust, and his gaze wasn’t cold or closed off.
“Really?” Mav asked, not quite with a cocky tone but as someone who clearly knew the answer to that question. And for all of Mav’s personal insecurities, his looks had never come to question. Mav knew he looked good most days.
“Really,” Bradley nodded slightly, rolling his bottom lip in between his teeth and looking at Mav up through his lashes. Blatant, in a way he wouldn’t have been able to get away with before.
“You’re beautiful all the time, did you know that?” Mav quirked his head, the edge of his lips quirking up in a softer imitation of his most confident smirk.
Score Bradley thought smugly. And where Bradley had once been a little unsure of himself as a younger man, he knew he’d aged well and grown into his features, so his response was a grin and, “You don’t say?”
“Mhm,” Mav’s smile widened as he hummed, nodding, “I dare say you’re the prettiest boy in the Navy, sweetheart.”
“Well, that can’t be possible so long as you’re still in the service,” Bradley flirted back, “Though I wouldn’t call you a boy.”
“What would you call me?” Mav asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“Lots of things,” Bradley tipped his head for emphasis, “But in this case, I’d call you the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.”
“Mm,” Mav smiled, “You wanna share any of the others?”
“Well,” Bradley cheekily tilted his head, “I could, but…”
“But what?” Mav questioned, falling right into his hands.
“You’d have to earn it.” Bradley challenged, tipping his chin up.
“Just tell me how,” Mav leaned towards him almost subconsciously and that’s when Bradley knew he had him in whatever way he wanted him. At his very mercy.
“A kiss seems fair,” Bradley smiled. Mav stared at him in deliberation for a long moment, and when he surged forward. Bradley cheered for his victory inwardly.
Their lips collided and Bradley leaned up into it, his hands threading up the back of Mav’s neck and into his hair in an instant, while Mav’s hands cupped his jaw. A thumb stroked over one of his scars as their kiss seared, open-mouthed in an instant.
It didn’t take much from there for the pair of them to find themselves laid out on the carpet flooring of Bradley’s living room, Bradley’s shorts flown somewhere across the room and his knees hiked up to his chest while Mav’s tongue danced in circles around his rim before stroking up along his taint, around his balls, and along the bottom of his throbbing cock.
Bradley rocked his head back, already feeling the hair on the back of his head tangling up from where he kept tossing and rubbing it, his mouth open around a long, low moan. “Fuck,” he groaned, as Mav swirled his tongue around the sensitive head of his cock, and hissed when Mav’s tongue pointedly prodded at his slit, before sliding back down. Teasing.
“C’mon, Mav,” Bradley whined, panting for air, “ ’s so good, please.”
“Please what?” Mav picked his head up, swiping at his spit-slick mouth.
“Please, Daddy,” Bradley moaned and Mav’s eyes flared. Not the answer he’d been searching for but a motivator, nonetheless. Mav dipped his head back down, swallowing Bradley’s cock to the base, and Bradley made his appreciation vocal as his eyes rolled back in his head, his fingers finding their way into Mav’s sweat-damp hair.
By the time Mav was done with him, he’d wrung three orgasms from Bradley’s body, split him open on his cock, left his hole gaping from the sudden absence of nine fucking inches, because apparently size wasn’t always proportional, and dripping his thick, sticky release. Then Mav redressed him in his own boxers and the hoodie that looked like a crop top on Bradley, the only one Bradley hadn’t been able to part with, his expression still painted with lust. Bradley flushed under the attention, especially when he felt Mav’s cum seeping into the fabric of Mav’s own boxers. The same pair Bradley had rut himself to completion in.
Oh, we’re both a little fucked up, he realized with an amused puff of breath, Got it.
• • •
The next day, Bradley joined the squad at The Hard Deck after work and he watched from the corner of his eye as Mav spoke to Penny, the pair apparently having made their apologies. And when Mav pulled her into a quick kiss before they parted ways, Bradley wondered if Mav tasted any different, if Bradley’s cum still lingered in the back of his teeth or the musk of his hole remained on the rasp of Mav’s tongue.
Penny’s gaze turned to face Bradley, her expression clenched and unhappy. Bradley just smiled into his beer, giving a tiny two-fingered wave in silent greeting.
I won, he thought to himself, Whether you know it or not, yet, I won.