Auther: softspiderling
Smut warning ⚠️ (in some parts)

“Oh shit!”

You hadn’t been in San Diego long when you immediately packed your bag for the beach. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, but after that horrendous flight the night before, you were antsy for some exercise. After a few laps, the sun was burning from the sky and you went for a quick dip in the water before laying down to dry off. You hadn’t meant to, but eventually, you dozed off, to the sound of the seagulls crowing and the waves crashing gently into the shore. You were rudely woken up by something heavy crashing into you, and when your eyes fluttered open, you had a lap full of a man.

He was bare chested and his aviators sat crooked on his nose when he looked up at you, pushing himself off of the sandy ground with his hands. 

“Ow fuck, I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he panted out and only then you noticed the very prominent mustache he was sporting. You couldn’t understand how you missed it in the first place. 

“That’s an understatement. It’s not like I was moving in any shape or form, how could you not have seen me?” you asked dryly, after processing the shock. 

“I was in thoughts,” he explained, getting on his knees and dusting the sand off his hands. “Did I hurt you?”

You could tell by the dull pain in your thigh that you’d have a bruise in the shape of his hand later, but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him that, so you shook your head. He was too busy checking you out himself, however, so you told him no when his eyes finally found yours. 

“Good. That’s… Good…” he said, trailing off. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

“Um, the Hard Deck. Tonight, at seven? I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What the hell is the Hard Deck?” 

Wordlessly, he pointed over your shoulder to the small bar that sat at the top of the beach. “See you tonight?” He didn’t look like he was going to accept any other answer besides yes, so you sighed, nodding.  

“Great.”

He stood straight and took a few steps, before he paused, turning back to you. “You can call me Bradley!”

With a salute, he continued his run down the beach. Leaning on your arms, you watched his backside until he was only a tiny spot in the distance. You hadn’t really planned on hooking up with anyone during your time here, but if the people here looked only half as good as Bradley, you weren’t sure  if you could resist.

You spent the rest of the day on the beach, only packing up your stuff when the wind picked up, and made your way back to the small cottage you had rented. You took a quick shower, washed away all the sand and sea water. As you got dressed, you glanced at the bruise on your thigh. Bradley’s hand print on your thigh was starting to turn darker, but it wasn’t that noticeable yet. You laid your hand over it, splaying your fingers out to mimic his hand, only to realize that you couldn’t even cover the spot, which made you feel… Funny. Shaking out of it, you just tugged some shorts on. The sunset turned your room orange and you were able to catch the last few minutes of it, when you headed back outside.

San Diego was refreshingly different from New York. And you weren’t just talking about the weather. When you initially booked the flight to San Diego, you very knowingly decided against Malibu (too many people) and Miami (too… Florida). However, you completely forgot about the naval base that was in San Diego.

The naval base which you definitely remembered now, as a bunch of uniformed people passed by you. Without realizing, you had walked towards the Hard Deck, loud music coming out of the bar. You hadn’t even decided if you wanted to go yet, but since you were already there, it wouldn’t hurt to actually go in, right?

When you stepped in, the warm air immediately engulfed you and you found it hard to find your way to a spot, where you wouldn’t stand in the way. To your luck, you managed to grab an empty bar stool, quickly taking a seat. 

As if she was just waiting for you, the barkeeper appeared in front of you. 

“Hey, what can I get you?”

“Uhm….” you stammered, looking for a menu, but failing. “I’m actually waiting for someone, I’m fine for now, thanks”

The barkeeper nodded, picking up an empty glass and filling it with water, placing it in front of you. “Call me if you need me.”

You sipped on your water, nearly choking when someone bumped into your side. 

“Oh shit, I- Oh, hey it’s you.”

You recognized his voice right away, and with a sigh, you looked up at him - Bradley - and gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you going to make it a habit to bump into me?”

“Nah, don’t think my wallet would like that very much,” Bradley laughed. “What are you drinking?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you replied, still somewhat bothered by the lack of menu and Bradley waved down the barkeeper, raising two fingers at her. She placed two beers on the countertop with a warm smile. Bradley twisted the cap of both bottles, handing you one. 

“Cheers.”

You clinked your bottle against his and took a swig, grimacing as the bitter liquid ran down your throat, before schooling your face again. Bradley had apparently not noticed, as he drank his own, bopping his head to the music. 

“So, what brings you to Fightertown?” he asked, taking off his sunglasses. Why he was wearing them indoors in the first place, you didn’t know. But when you finally saw his warm brown eyes he’d been hiding between his sunglasses, you were glad that he had been wearing them up to this point. Instead, you opted to look at his clothes, a colorful Hawaiian shirt over a wife beater, now being dragged down by the sunglasses he had stuck in the vee of his top. 

“Just a vacation,” you replied, taking your eyes off his chest and looking up, only to see him grinning at you knowingly. “So what’s with the navy bar?” you asked, hoping to distract him. 

“I’m a naval aviator,” Bradley explained, his eyebrows shooting up. “Did I not tell you?” 

With a shake of your head, you snorted. “Shouldn’t a naval aviator be well aware of his surroundings though?”

“Trust me, I am not this clumsy when I am in the air.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You lifted the beer to your lips, immediately pulling a face again. Bradley laughed at the sight, leaning against the counter. “You don’t really like beer, do you?”

“I’m sorry. There’s no menu and I don’t really know what they have here,” you sighed and he chuckled, taking the beer from your hands. 

“It’s okay. What do you like?”

“Something fruity?”

“Hey Penny!” Bradley called over to the barkeeper. “Can you make my friend a fruity alcoholic?”

In a matter of seconds, a colorful drink, strikingly similar to Bradley’s shirt actually, was standing in front of you. When you took a sip, your face brightened at the taste. 

“Better?”

“Loads.”

Bradley shook his head with a smile. “Come on, my friends are at the pool table.” He walked off, not actually making sure that you were following him and you sighed at his presumption, weaving through the crowd with your drink in his hand. At the pool table, Bradley was pressing one of the beer bottles into a blond’s hand, a couple of other people standing around. When the blond saw you, he eyed you up and down, nearly choking on the beer. 

“Fuck Rooster, the hell did you do to that poor girl?”

You looked down, the bruise on your thigh a dark purple now, the hand imprint contrasting starkly against your skin. Flushing, you looked up at Bradley, whose face was very red now. 

“I thought you said I didn’t hurt you,” he muttered tightly, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bruise, making you shiver. Bradley quickly pulled his hand back, as if he remembered where he was,  a grim look on his face. 

“I just bruise easily, it doesn’t actually hurt that much, I’m fine,” you assured him, but Bradley continued staring at the imprint. 

“Didn’t know you were that kinky in bed, Bradshaw.”

Your face grew hot at the blond’s insinuation. “He tripped over me on the beach.”

“That’s… Even worse,” he sighed, giving Bradley a long look. Based on the dog tags on his neck, he must be working with Bradley.

“I hope you made it up to her, Bradshaw,” a woman with dark hair said, concern on her face, before she looked up at you. “Hey, I’m Natasha. Or Phoenix, whatever floats your boat.”

Phoenix introduced you to everyone else, and god, all of them were so attractive. Was that a requirement to be a naval aviator? You told them your name and Bradley rubbed his hand over his face, embarrassed. “I didn’t even ask for your name.”

“Jesus, get it together, Bradshaw.”

“Shut up, Hangman,” Bradley huffed, bumping Hangman, apparently, with his shoulders. “I wasn’t paying attention on a run and clearly I am destined to forever embarrass myself in front of her anyway.”

“So, you’re on vacation?” Halo asked curiously and you nodded.

“Yeah, my boss forced me to actually take days off instead of just taking case files home and working from my bedroom.”

“What do you do for work?” 

“I’m an Assistant’s State attorney in New York.”

“You’re a lawyer?” Hangman asked, before bursting out in laughter, leaning on the pool stick. “Oh this is truly getting better by the second. Please tell me you’re suing Rooster here for bodily harm.”

“Do you ever shut up, Hangman?” 

Hangman merely chuckled out a laugh, leaning in to whisper something in Bradley’s ear, before handing him the pool stick. He and some other aviators then moved over to the dartboard, freeing up the pool table. Bradley sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry about him. He just likes to rile me up a bit, he’s all bark and no bite.”

“It’s fine, I’ve heard worse.”

“You know, I considered going into law before I decided for the academy,” Phoenix told you and Bradley raised his eyebrows at her. 

“You were?”

“Yeah, but in the end I chose the Navy. Being a lawyer just seemed a bit too hard for me.”

“As opposed to flying a multi-million dollar plane, of course,” you chuckled and Phoenix gave you a sharp smile. You could imagine working alongside Phoenix in a courtroom. She looked like she had a couple of tricks up her sleeve. 

“God, who picked this song?” Bradley groaned when the intro of Shape of You started playing. You all looked at the juke-box, where one of Bradley’s co-workers, you believed it was Fanboy, was standing, moving his head excessively to the song. 

“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” Bradley sighed, taking a sip from his beer before brushing his hand over your arm. “Come on.”

He moved to the back of the bar and you turned to Phoenix with a confused look but she only laughed, gently pushed you towards where Bradley was going. He had seated himself in front of a piano as the jukebox suddenly died down. 

“What is happening?” you asked, leaning on the piano when everyone started crowding around the piano. You glanced down, where Bradley’s fingers were dancing over the piano keys, before meeting his eyes; he only gave you a cheeky smile, before hitting the notes.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain.”

You raised your eyebrows when Bradley started belting out Jerry Lee Lewis’ Great Balls of Fire, completely entranced in his performance. As the rest of the bar joined him in the song, you realized that this must be something that happened regularly and you chuckled, amused. 

“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Great balls of fire, indeed.

When you woke up the next day, the image of Bradley’s hands flying over the keys of the piano was still ingrained in your mind. You pushed back the blankets, to expose the bruise on your thigh, and by now it settled into a dark purple. Pressing down on it gently, you hissed at the pain shooting up your leg, so you clenched your hands in a fist, staring at the bruise. You didn’t know why the bruise made you feel what you felt. Sighing, you climbed out of bed and got ready for the day. 

The small kitchen had a fridge and even though the stove wasn’t the newest, you’d figure you’d try and cook on it. If you had any ingredients to cook with, that is. After a quick google search, you located the nearest grocery store and took the bike in the shed with the small basket at the back. The grocery store was quite busy, which you should’ve expected, but didn’t let that deter you, as you walked between the aisles. It took you a few minutes to find everything you needed, but soon, you found the frozen section and picked up the bag of peas.

Which you promptly dropped when someone smacked the freezer door against your head. 

“Ouch!”

You looked to the side, full on glaring at the other person, only letting out a frustrated sigh when you saw who it was. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I am so sorry,” Bradley whined, picking up the peas for you and pressing it against the growing bump on your forehead. “I opened the door with way too much momentum.”

“I thought you weren’t going to make a habit out of it,” you grumbled, curling your fingers around the pea back and pushing his hand away. Bradley ducked his head, probably to hide the redness that was spreading over his face and you seriously couldn’t believe that the Navy let someone like him in the air. 

“You always catch me whenever I am not aware of my surroundings, I swear I am not doing it on purpose.”

Bradley gingerly picked the pea bag out of your hands, inspecting your bump. You frowned, reaching up to touch your forehead, wincing when that made the throbbing pain worse. Taking a deep breath, you reached a new bag of frozen peas, walking around Bradley to the check out.

“Hey, where are you going?” Bradley called after you, running so he could catch up with you. 

“Home. Where else do you think?” 

Your tone was snappish, even though you knew he didn’t purposefully smack the door against your head. But still. You were allowed to be upset. You started putting your things on the conveyor belt, before Bradley took the basket out of his hand, adding it to his stuff. You’d protest, but honestly, at this point that was the least he could do. 

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” he told you, shifting the grocery bags in his hand but you shook your head at him.

“No, I can’t leave my bike here.”

Bradley gave you a funny look. “You biked here?”

You silenced him with a look and he shook his head quickly. 

“Uh, nevermind. We can put your car in the back of my car, you shouldn’t ride a bike like this.”

And he was right. So you walked with him to his car, got inside and waited while he loaded the bike in the trunk before getting in himself. You gave him the directions to your rental and leaned back as he drove. A short car ride later, his car pulled to a stop in front of the cottage. While Bradley took your bike down, you unlocked the front door with one of the grocery bags, heading straight to the kitchen. 

“Were you planning on cooking?” he asked, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as you sorted through your stuff. 

“Yeah, that was the plan. You know, before you bonked me in the head.”

“Let me help you then,” Bradley said, coming up behind you to take the bag of pistachio nuts he bought for himself, tossing them back into the grocery bag. The spot, where your hands touched suddenly felt warm and you shrunk away, looking up at him.