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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year

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Nice To Meet You - Guys Like You | Part I

an interactive top gun fic series! with a poll waiting for you at the end!

summary: Nat introduces you to the squad for the very first time. You expected a lot, but certainly not two of the most drop-dead gorgeous men ever to flirt with you.

6k only a tw for alcohol ig? otherwise just simping. on every and all ends.

guys like you masterlist | top gun masterlist

Nat's keys clanging onto the living room table should have been your first hint that something was not going to be normal about this evening. That she appeared in your doorway instead of vanishing into the shower next was an absolute red flag.

"We're going out tonight", she announced, not a trace of a smile on her face. You turned off your phone with a sigh and propped your head up on your pillow.

"Gee, not even a 'hello' or 'how are you' today, hm?", you asked.

"You need to go out", she went on, completely brushing over your interruption. She was dead-set on giving you a speech, you could tell. She was still sweaty, her hair slicked back, her flight-suit zipped up, but she was looking at you as though she hadn't just been through hours upon hours of what you'd probably call torture. "You've been just sitting in this room for the past two weeks and I can't stand it anymore."

You sat up with another sigh, tugging at your oversized, sauce-stained shirt that you were suddenly much too aware of.

"Nat, please, I need to get settled first."

"You settled a week ago."

She wasn't taking any bullshit today. She had let you off the hook too many times already, up until now swayed by your half-assed arguments of why you were hiding in your bedroom. "You're going out with us tonight."

"Us?", you asked, dreading the answer. Nat didn't have any friends outside of work here.

"Me and the squad", she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

"No", you laughed. "No, definitely not."

She frowned, finally moving out of the doorway and settling at the foot of your bed instead. At least it felt more like an eye-to-eye conversation now.

"It's just the squad", she shrugged.

"Just the squad?", you asked. "Just the squad? Nat, those people fly multi-million-dollar aircrafts on a daily basis, they're all ripped as hell and make thrice the money I made back in San Fran. I don't even have a job."

"First of all, you've applied for jobs, it takes time", she reasoned. (Sometimes you could have slapped her for her rationalism.) "Also I'm one of those people and my job never bothered you before."

You stared at her like she'd gone mad. How could she not get this? Yes, they were normal to her, they were her colleagues, her friends, but to you? Um, hello?

"Yeah, because I have pictures of you pooping your diapers", you said, exasperation lacing your tone. "I've known you for as long as I can remember. Those people have never met me. And I don't need them to meet me at my worst."

Even though she'd been dead-set on getting you out of this apartment, she still softened a little at that.

"You're not at your worst anymore", she reassured, smiling at you. "You're beyond that. You're starting a new life now."

"Still", you snorted. "I'm a nobody compared to you guys."

"God, don't say that!", she groaned, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to get out of here for a few hours. You're coming with me, I don't care what you have to say about it. We leave at eight, we'll get takeout on the way and I promise that if you're not feeling any better by midnight, we'll go home."

You knew that you couldn't argue with her. She was determined to get you out of this apartment and even if you didn't agree, she'd drag you out screaming. She'd have no problem either - she was way stronger than you.

"I hate you", you mumbled, no real malice behind the words. She just grinned and got up to stretch.

"Great", she chuckled. "I'm gonna go shower and then get ready. If you're not done by eight I'm carrying you into the car myself, I don't care."

You just grabbed a lonesome sock from the bed and threw it at her as she turned and walked out, leaving you to yourself, your own thoughts and the realisation that you actually had to meet all those high-maintenance people. It took two seconds before you were tearing open your closet and dragging your shirt over your head. You had barely one and a half hours left to get ready and lord help you if you weren't finished on time.

...

You were buzzing with so much nervous energy when you got in the Uber that you felt like you were about to mutate into a bee. You couldn't imagine that would be any worse than what was about to happen anyway. Honestly, you'd been dreading meeting Nat's friends for months now, but it had got much, much worse when you'd moved out to San Diego. Because it had become a very real possibility. And today, well, today seemed to be the day that all those fears that had been festering for weeks and weeks would truly become reality.

You spent the entire car ride staring out of the window, thinking about how they'd surely all sneer at you, look at you with that expression just in between pity and arrogance that somehow all rich people wore. Maybe there'd be one or two decent people. Hopefully there would. Nat wasn't usually friends with absolute dickheads, but then again even back in highschool she'd got along with most of those popular jocks that wouldn't have looked twice at you. To be fair, she'd thrown some punches here and there, but you'd still rather keep to yourself than meet a bunch of snobs. At least you knew that Nat would be with you and that she wouldn't break her promise - if you weren't enjoying yourself, she'd take you back home dead on twelve.

You let out a last sigh when the car stopped, climbing out of your seat as slowly as you could while Nat paid, trying desperately to stall for as long as you possibly could. But she tutted at you and tucked her arm into yours, dragging you with her through the parking lot and over the threshold.

It didn't take long for you to realise that this was a navy bar. There were very, very few people in civilian clothes - in normal ones, you'd say - most of them were clad in uniforms. You could have rolled your eyes at that alone. Why were navy men always so goddamn eager to show off that they were navy? They couldn't seriously think anyone was going to throw themselves at them just because of their fucking uniforms. You'd much rather keep a very safe distance away from any and all navy guys - a radius of at least two miles.

"There they are", Phoenix said, a grin playing on her lips as she pointed at the corner with the pool tables. You internally braced yourself, taking another deep breath before you even dared to look where she was pointing, clutching the little purse you'd slung over your shoulder to ground you.

The bar wasn't particularly crowded yet and you could make out a group of people - not in uniform, thank god - huddled around both of the pool tables. As far as you could see, there was only one other woman. Of course. You should've guessed that Nat was flying with a bunch of testosterone monsters.

You hadn't expected much else, of course... but it still made you hyper-aware of the dress you'd picked out.

Nat whistled and let go of you when you got close enough to the squad (your skin was practically burning up and you were seriously considering turning around and making a run for it, but you'd never been too good at running and were much to scared to face-plant on the floor). The guys turned around like dogs, answering to her whistle and nothing more, and way too many pairs of eyes landed on you in the span of a single second.

"Alright?", Nat grinned, shoving you a little step in front of her. It wasn't like you were shy. You really weren't. Maybe you weren't exactly extroverted, but you certainly weren't shy. Usually. So you couldn't even be mad at her for forcing you to come out of your shell like this. "I'd like to introduce you idiots to my roommate."

One of the guys put his pool cue down and immediately your focus switched to him. You had to admit that for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. He was tall and he was blond and he had strikingly green eyes and broad shoulders and that button-up was really doing things for you. You'd expected Nat's friends to be talented and rich, sure, but not that goddamn handsome.

"You never told us your roommate's stunning", he drawled, all Texan accent dripping from his words like molten honey and sticking to your brain, and his grin almost sent you careening straight into his arms. You needed longer than you should've to really process his words, only realising that oh god, had he just called you stunning? when Nat was already rolling her eyes.

"Do not, Bagman", she hissed, "flirt with her or I will end you."

Bagman only chuckled at that and strode towards you, holding out his hand and luckily you had enough braincells left to grasp it. Normal, you told yourself. Totally normal greeting. You did your best to ignore the heat in your cheeks and the way his fingers felt.

"Hangman", he introduced himself, that award-winning grin still on his lips. "But you can call me Jake."

He winked, completely brushing over Nat's threat. She slapped the back of his head and he finally pulled his hand from yours as you stuttered out your name.

"What did I just say", Nat seethed, practically dragging him away from you. He just shrugged and chuckled to himself.

"Can't help myself around beautiful ladies, I'm afraid."

She slapped him another time for that and he brought his hand to his hair to rub over the spot that you were sure must already have been sore. Nat had a wicked right hook.

"Keep it in your pants, Bagman", she threatened again, then turned back to you. "Alright, now that the worst is over, I'll introduce you to the others."

She spun to stand next to you, eyes narrowing as she paused for a second. You could barely raise your eyebrows. All of this was so overwhelming. You'd expected everything from embarrassment to ridicule, but certainly not that anyone was about to flirt with you. And one gorgeous piece of human being as well.

But he probably did that with everyone.

He was navy, for gods sake! What were you thinking? Navy guys were toxic assholes that brought a new conquest home every night only to leave them unsatisfied and doing the walk of shame in the morning. You had enough troubles already, you really didn't need to add another man to the pile.

So you straightened and made yourself swear not to give Jake another second of acknowledgement.

Nat seemed to have finished her assessment of the group, whatever it had been, and she didn't look satisfied.

"Where's Bradshaw?", she asked.

"Probably doing what he does best", Jake sighed, snatching the pool cue up again and leaning over the table to take a shot. "Slow ridin'."

You had seriously no clue whatsoever how pool worked, but he straightened again with a self-satisfied expression and you guessed he must've done good, especially when his friend groaned. He caught your gaze and you snapped it away, cursing yourself for already fucking up on your promise. Nat huffed.

"He better have a convincing excuse", she muttered. "I thought I told everyone to make a good first impression."

Then she clapped her hands.

"Okay! Anyway. Next to Bagman, that's Coyote."

Coyote raised his beer at you and smiled. You gave him a little wave.

"Next to Coyote that's Fanboy and next to him that's Payback."

You waved at them too, laughing as Fanboy waved back with just a little too much vigor and as Payback threw you a sloppy salute. Nat turned to the other pool table.

"Over there that's Fritz, Yale, Harvard, Omaha and Halo."

She grinned, grabbed you by the shoulders and maneuvered you around, pointing at a man with big glasses on his nose, sitting in one of the few chairs that were facing the pool tables. He stopped popping nut mix into his mouth the second your eyes fell on him, his hand hovering uncertainly in mid-air.

"And that's", Nat said, almost prideful, "That's Bob."

"Ooh!", you keened, a little more confident that everybody seemed at least somewhat happy to see you and a little more excited now that you remembered a person from Nat's stories. "Backseater Bob?"

"That's me", Bob chuckled, red tinting his cheeks as he smiled, putting away the nut mix to wipe his hands off on his pants and reach one out to shake yours. You couldn't help but mirror his grin - his fingers were soft and he was gentle with you, a bit unlike Jake. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too", you nodded, already comfortable with him after all of two seconds. You understood now why Nat was so glad to have him as her backseater - he seemed like the complete opposite of the navy cliché that you despised so much.

Bob just smiled at you for a moment. His glasses made his eyes a little bigger than they probably were and honestly, you could see yourself getting along well with him. He seemed sweet and genuine and kind and you could feel your anxiety start to let go of you, start to slip away a bit.

"Oh", he let out and straightened. "D'you want something to drink?"

"She does", Nat interrupted before you could decline, as though she'd already known you would. She probably had, to be honest. She knew you well enough. "Would you get us two tequila shots and two mojitos?"

"Two tequila shots and two mojitos?", you laughed, turning around to her in surprise.

"I told you, you need to let loose", she grinned. "And we're letting loose tonight!"

"Oh yeah", you snorted, pushing her away by her shoulder as Bob got up and walked over to the bar. "Really letting loose apparently."

Nat only laughed and let herself flop down on one of the chairs, patting the seat next to her with Bob's nut mix on it. You grabbed it and sat down as well, brushing your hand down the front of your dress, smoothing it out.

You watched Nat's friends bustle about the pool tables. Watched Nat's squad as they talked and laughed. Watched Jake - just out of the corner of your eyes, really! - as he clapped Coyote on the back and you could've sworn that even though you really definitely weren't looking!!! his eyes were fixed on you. It had you fiddling with the straps of your dress.

"So?", Nat asked eventually, drawing your attention back to her. "They're not as bad as you thought, are they?"

Internally, you had to agree with her. Okay, maybe you'd been a little overdramatic. Maybe they weren't as bad. They didn't seem so. But also you'd known them for less than two minutes and you knew just how good people sometimes were at deceiving you.

"Give me a minute to get to know them and I'll tell you after", you smiled.

"That I can work with."

"Ladies", Jake's voice rang out, just before he stepped up right in front of you, leaving you practically no choice but to look up at him. He was grinning, the pool cue still in his hand. "You'll play a round, won't you?"

Nat shifted in her seat.

"Haven't got your ass kicked enough yet?", she asked.

"You know you couldn't kick my ass if you tried, Phee."

"We'll see about that."

She was up in a second, grabbing the cue from Jake and strolling over to the table as you watched her. You hadn't moved. You weren't about to.

That almost lazy kind of teasing they had going on reminded you of all those other people like Jake that she'd been friends with throughout her life. Not that you didn't make fun of each other - wasn't that practically the baseline of every friendship? But with them... You couldn't put your finger on it just now. It wasn't that they actually despised each other, you knew what Nat's hatred looked like and it wasn't this, and it certainly wasn't flirting either, you knew what Nat's type looked like and as handsome as you found Jake, he definitely wasn't it. Maybe it was just the combination of their personalities, maybe it was nothing at all. It was a bit like they still hadn't quite decided that they liked each other, even though they obviously did get on.

"What about you?", Jake asked and you blinked up at him in surprise. Sure, he'd addressed the both of you, but you'd kind of just assumed that he'd meant Nat.

"Uh, I don't play", you said carefully, still unsure if - and if, then why - he was talking to you. Hadn't Nat just agreed to play against him? Were two players not enough somehow? Was this like, a group game?

Jake raised his eyebrows.

"You don't play pool?", he asked, like he'd never met anybody who dared not play pool.

"No, I don't", you said, very slowly, as though that would somehow lessen the risk of miscommunication. "I don't know how to."

The corners of his lips tugged upwards at that, just slightly, like he wanted to hide his grin from you. Was he making fun of you? Honestly you couldn't even be mad at him if he was - you'd expected pretty much nothing else from the squad. But it did come as a bit of a surprise now that your impression of them all had so rapidly changed.

"Well we can't have that", Jake tutted, reaching out a hand again, hanging in mid-air as you looked at it sceptically. This whole situation was a little overwhelming. Or maybe it was just him that was a little overwhelming. "You're at a navy bar, Sunny. You have to know pool."

You glanced from his hand back up at his face and felt kind of daft with how much time your brain needed to process all this.

"Sunny?", you asked, because of all the questions that you had this was the easiest one to phrase. And maybe because it was the thing that had thrown you off track the most. Jake's grin only widened.

"Navy nature to give nicknames, darlin'", he chuckled while you realised that you'd still not taken his hand and that at this point it probably started being weird (and heavy) to hold his arm out like that. So despite your earlier promise, which, you had to admit, you'd already thrown out of the window a second after you'd made it, you acknowledged him very much. As carefully as you possibly could, you put your hand in his as he talked, and immediately he tightened his grip on you and helped you stand up. You were a little too close to him now, a little too close for good, and if Nat hadn't been occupied racking the pool balls she probably would have kicked Jake in the face. But he didn't seem to mind, only carried on talking, apparently not whatsoever surprised by the sudden close proximity or by how easily the pet names had slipped off his lips.

Sunny. Darlin'.

"And that's just a lovely dress", he went on, leaning in even closer, so close that for just a second you almost could have felt his breath on your ear. "I think yellow might be my new favourite colour."

He pulled back with a wink and then he was gone, just the weight of his hand resting in yours left as he led you to the pool table Nat was setting up. He let go of you the very moment she looked up, a smile on her lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Jake was playing a dangerous game and he was pulling you down with him.

He strolled around the table back to Coyote, who was still holding the other pool cue in his hands, and Nat took the few steps towards you, her smile dropping a bit.

"Bagman bother you?", she asked, genuinely a little worried.

"Nah", you said, a little shaky, and shook your head. "I'm fine."

It wasn't a real answer, but she let it slide, nodding as she watched Jake return with the second cue now.

"You just let me know if he does", she muttered and then there he was, too quick for you to respond.

Nat was usually protective. She always had been, and rightfully so. Always a little weary of guys you went on dates with, always a little weary of guys you brought home. You'd minded sometimes, like back in college when you'd had a crush on that guy from musical theatre and she had threatened so vividly to break his neck if he hurt you that he'd never talked to you again. But she had clearly been right about most of them and so you really should trust her, really, you should... and yet.

She was practically telling you to stay far away from Jake. She was doing it the other way around, for now, but you were sure she'd give you the whole speech tomorrow morning as well. And you'd just met this guy, it wasn't like you were head over heels in love with him, but he was charming and flirty and it was working on you.

He was just about to open his mouth and, you guessed, start explaining pool to you when Nat suddenly straightened.

"Bradshaw!", she called out, so loud that the whole bar must've heard her, and you turned to see what - who - she was looking at as if in reflex. The crowd nothing short of parted for him.

A ridiculous Hawaiian shirt on that caught your eye first, then those sunglasses - were that Ray Bans? Hadn't they got out of style like, a decade ago? - and then... Oh, and then.

"That's a pornstache", you said, quite dumbly, you had to admit, and Nat snorted. You turned to her and then back to him and even though you were still very much gaping, you were laughing now too. "Like, an actual 80s pornstache."

Pornstache had caught sight of his squad apparently and was making his way towards you and the closer he came, the less funny you felt about the whole situation.

Pornstache was attractive.

Maybe it was the hair. Maybe it was the swagger in his step, the fact that he was practically oozing confidence. Not that the others weren't, but he... well, you kinda couldn't look away from him as he approached. Maybe it was the moustache after all.

You hadn't ever met a man who could pull that off.

He shouldn't be allowed to either.

God, how was Nat working with all these gorgeous specimen? They should all be sued for looking like that. It was too much power in the hands of the navy.

Pornstache stopped short in front of you, a light grin on his lips, and someone - Jake perhaps? - let out a resigned breath.

"You're late", Nat said, crossing her arms like she always did when she didn't like something. His grin only widened.

"There needs to be someone fashionably late in every squadron", he chuckled, slipping off his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt and if it had been up to you you'd have forced them back up on his nose because now you had to watch as he glanced from Nat to you and took you in. He was way too attractive to be eyeing you up like this.

Men like him didn't eye you up like this.

Especially not in yellow sundresses.

Not that the dress wasn't pretty. It was. And you weren't overdressed like you'd have been in the black one that you'd had hanging at your closet door too. But it was kind of weird to be standing in front of all these testosterone-y men in a cute little dress like that.

Though Jake seemed to have liked it.

God, first him and now Pornstache...

"Rooster", Pornstache said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. "Or Bradley. But you can call me whatever you want."

You could practically hear Nat rolling her eyes as you shook his hand, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face as heat rushed through your arm and straight to your cheeks.

"What is it with you guys tonight?", she sighed, uncrossing her arms and grabbing her pool cue instead. She turned back to the table that she'd finished setting up and nudged Jake away to take his place, apparently at her wits' end and done with the conversation. Pornstache - Bradley - wasn't.

No, he was still looking at you and you still couldn't look away.

"So you're Nat's new roommate, I assume?"

You couldn't help but admire the way his voice sounded. If it already had you melting like this within two minutes of meeting him, you didn't want to imagine how you'd react if you heard it in the morning. Or late at night. Or close to your ear. Or- Wow, you really needed to fucking stop.

"Yeah", you choked out and cleared your throat as embarrassment set in. You shouldn't be thinking about Nat's colleagues like this. You shouldn't be thinking about anyone like this. You needed a drink and to cool off. God, where was Bob with those tequila shots? "Yeah, Nat's new roommate."

Bradley nodded, that damned grin still on his lips.

"But you knew her before?"

"Yeah", you said again, a little steadier this time. "Yeah, I've known her my whole life."

You should stop saying 'yeah' that much. It was making you sound like that was the only word you knew. Yeah.

"Really?", he asked and raised his eyebrows, glancing at Nat who was now leaning over the pool table and taking her shot, totally concentrated. "She never told us, just said she was introducing us to a friend who's recently moved. If you've known her that long, she could've introduced us back at Top Gun."

"You went to Top Gun with her?", you asked, raising your eyebrows to look at Nat too. "She never told me."

"Seems like she didn't tell us much about each other", Bradley said and somehow, he seemed rather amused by it - his lip was quirking up and his moustache followed and you felt like that should rather be funny than attractive. Shame that it wasn't.

Before you could say anything more, Bob came back with a tray in his hands, balancing a bunch of glasses. He barely seemed to notice Bradley, too focused on not letting anything fall and shatter.

"Tequila or mojito first?", he asked. Nat straightened up and grabbed the two shot glasses from the tray.

"Tequila", she said, back to at least a half-grin. "Thanks, Bob."

She gave one to you and clinked them and the two of you downed your shots like you'd always done - one big sip in sync, heads thrown back and glasses practically touching your noses and laughs on your lips when you put them down again, with just a bit too much fervor on Bob's tray.

"Now the mojito", she chuckled, taking the cocktail glasses next and handing you one again.

"You ladies seem to be enjoying yourselves", Jake suddenly said, leaning against the pool table with that grin on his lips but somehow, it was tighter now and his voice was a little strained. Maybe it was the tequila just blurring up your senses for a moment. Maybe your perception was fucked.

"Have to", Nat grinned and winked at you. "After all you lot aren't any help."

Bradley and Jake started protesting like she had somehow insulted their honour, but she only laughed and turned back to the game, already taking a sip of the cocktail in her hand. You followed her example.

Bob carefully sat down the tray on one of the chairs and picked up the nut mix again. You couldn't help but smile. It was somehow endearing, the rest of them sipping beer and drinks and him just popping nut mix into his mouth like a grad student.

"So, Sunny", Jake said, suddenly so close again that you could smell his aftershave. "Your turn."

You glanced at the pool table and raised your eyebrows. You should probably say no, thanks, I can't play, goodbye and leave it be. Leave him be. Nat would probably prefer if you did. She'd probably prefer if you turned around and joined Bob and made friends with her backseater instead of let Bagman, like she so affectionately called him, teach you how to play pool. But he was an attractive man and you were only human and anyway, you imagined you'd have enough time left to talk to everybody else. So you looked up at him and his impossibly green eyes that you couldn't get over and took the cue out of his hands.

"Only if you teach me", you said, stopping short at the end to ponder if maybe, just maybe.... So you grinned and added "Bagman" and watched his face fall for a second as you pushed past him and tried to make sense of the pool table.

Alright, so there were nine balls in different colors and if you were right, you were supposed to push them into the pockets in the corners and at the sides. Right? But that couldn't be it. It couldn't be that easy.

Jake had apparently restarted his original train of thought and turned around to you, his chest almost - just almost - pressing into your shoulder.

"I was planning on teaching you, Sunny", he chuckled, straightened and turned a little more serious. "A'ight, it's actually quite easy once you got it. So we've got ten balls in total and your goal is to pocket the nine colored ones. But you're only allowed to strike the cueball, the white one. With me so far?"

"So far", you nodded. "So basically I have to like, hit all these other balls but just with the white one and not with the cue? And if I pocket the cueball then what happens?"

"That's a foul", he explained patiently. Honestly you hadn't expected he'd react so well to dumb questions. "If you pocket the cueball, your turn's over and the other player-"

He stopped short. You were just about to ask if he was alright when you heard it too.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

The music was gone. Completely gone. Someone had turned off the jukebox.

"Every fucking time", Jake muttered, running his hand over his face as you looked at him and frowned. You were missing something major here and honestly couldn't think of what. But then Nat put down her cue and her drink and maneuvered around Jake to pry your drink from your hand as well.

"You're gonna wanna see this", she chuckled, one of those rare, all-consuming grins on her lips and you could hardly do anything but stumble after her as she made her way through the crowd. You didn't think anything could have prepared you for the next five minutes.

Because okay, Bradley was sitting at the piano. Okay, Bradley could also play said piano. And okay, Bradley could sing as well. And just maybe he really wasn't bad. Maybe he was really, really good.

Maybe Nat thought the same because you hadn't seen her that carefree in a while. Maybe everyone did - almost everyone, at least, because almost everyone was laughing and singing along and having the time of their lives. Maybe you did too.

No, you definitely did too.

Bradley had popped his sunglasses back up on his nose and was clearly enjoying being the center of attention for a minute. And you couldn't help but be completely enamoured by it. By him. You couldn't help but laugh along with Nat and let her twirl you around and sing, too loud and probably much too off-key, and fall from Bob's arms into Fanboys and you really couldn't help but somehow feel like a part of the group.

And then the song was over and you were panting, your cheeks hurt from grinning and you had to brace your palm on the lid of the piano to not fall over.

Fanboy's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder somehow and you didn't know if you were leaning on him or if he was leaning on you, but it didn't really matter. You were glad now that you had chosen that summer dress - it was light and breezy and you didn't have to worry about sweating through skin-tight fabric or anything like that. No, you just had to sweep your hair out of your face and throw your head back and laugh.

And look at Bradley, maybe, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement. He looked straight out of a fever dream. His sunglasses lay abandoned on the piano lid - he had really pretty eyes. How had you not noticed before?

"Is this like a regular show you pull off?", you asked, a little breathless as Fanboy untangled himself from you, the conversation the rest of the squad was starting up now fading into background noise. You were running high on adrenaline, the tequila was finally hitting your system, the anxiety was fully disappearing and because spirits were so high, your confidence came crashing back into you like a huge wave of relief that had you collapsing on the piano bench right next to Bradley. "'Cuz it seemed like everyone was quite used to that."

He chuckled, turning his head so he could look at you. He was tall, you realised, really really tall, at least taller than you by a head and you didn't know if it was this apparent because you were suddenly sitting or just because you were suddenly so close to him. Not that you wanted to complain either way.

"Let's say it's not the first time", he smiled. You raised your eyebrows.

"i'll ignore that you're deflecting for now", you laughed, not quite caring that he was deflecting at all. (You were pretty sure you knew the answer anyway.) "And instead I'll say I'm impressed. I've always admired people that can play."

"Do you play?", he asked, genuinely interested, drawing his hands back from the piano as the jukebox started up again. You had to say you'd liked the live music a little better. A little a lot. After all, Bradley Bradshaw was a sight to behold.

"No", you said. "Not anymore. I played... Well, I kinda had lessons back when I was little, but my family- Yeah, no, I don't play."

You swallowed and he raised his eyebrows, but luckily didn't comment on your stuttering. You really didn't need to traumadump on people you'd met half an hour ago. If it had even been half an hour. (It probably hadn't.)

"I could teach you", he offered and maybe you were wrong, maybe you were stupid, maybe you were tispier than you'd thought but you could've sworn that just for a moment, he glanced down at your lips - but you probably were wrong and stupid and tispier than you'd thought.

"Slow Ride."

You looked up to see Jake leaning against the piano, a beer bottle in his hand and a forced grin on his lips, entirely focused on Bradley next to you.

"Bagman."

You glanced back and forth between them as they stared at each other in silence.

Maybe you shouldn't be here. This felt like you really should not be here. Were you missing something? You'd thought that the squad was like one big family. These two seemed more like they were about to rip each others throats out and you didn't know if you wanted to be in between them when it inevitably happened.

"So you're back in showbiz, I see", Jake chuckled, putting his beer down on the piano lid.

"Some people can actually make it there, whether you believe it or not", Bradley shot back, his eyebrows raised and his lips still twisted into that grin that you were pretty certain was an act in itself.

Jake let out a dry laugh.

"Maybe you should change career paths", he suggested. "Actually do make it somewhere."

"Maybe I should leave", you muttered, already halfway off the bench and on your way to down the mojito Nat had left on the pool table, just to get out of whatever this was. Even though whatever it was came closer than anything else had so far to what you'd expected, it threw you off track more than the rest had. You needed a minute. And you needed a drink.

"Don't worry", Bradley said, turning back to you after throwing a last glance at Jake. "Bagman's gonna go now."

"And leave the poor woman with you?", Jake chuckled, straightening up with a grin. His beer bottle clinged against the wood. "I don't think so."

Having the both of them stare at you had your skin crawling.

That confidence that you'd had earlier? Gone. The anxiety you'd thought you were done with? Back. Fun! Where was Nat to get you out of this? Where was Nat when you needed her? You should've listened to her and kept away. You should've sat down next to Bob and had a pleasant conversation, but no. No, you had to find the two troublemakers of the team and get right in between their little quarrel.

"I was about to teach the poor woman how to play piano", Bradley said, eyes still fixed on you.

"Really?", Jake asked. "Because I was about to teach her how to play pool."

He raised his eyebrows and Bradley did too and they were looking at you all silent like they expected you to say something now and oh god, what had you got yourself into?

Two of the most gorgeous men you'd ever seen - to your great dismay - who were friends, no, colleagues of Nat's, who flew multi-million-dollar aircrafts and spent their days saving the world, looking at you and flirting with you and... flirting with you.

Nat had been right, no matter how this would work out.

You'd really needed to get out of your bedroom.

...

So you've tripped and fallen right into a love triangle, it seems. What are you gonna do?

a/n: this somehow didn't really turn out the way i wanted but i dont mind? like, im quite happy with how it did turn out tbh!!!! and im so excited to finally publish this chapter ahhhhhhhh lets see what happens!

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