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chemistryread · 9 days

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a 'what's next' for scorch and jake preview

a/n: there could be changes to this.

tagging: @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @peakascum @cherrycola27 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @averyhotchner @sarcasm-n-insomnia @scoopsr0bin @loveforaugust @murdermornings @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @cornishkat @lovingperfectionsblog @thecraziestcrayon @untoldshortsofthefandoms

The sun is kinder at this hour, gently warming the side of your face as you remove your helmet. You can feel Pete's eyes on you from the other side of his aircraft, climbig out of its cockpit.

When he reaches you, the well-meaning furrow of his brows encourages you to pick up a pace, forcing the older man to look at the back of your head instead of your eyes.

"I'd say we're getting good at this whole flying thing, Captain."

You can imagine the small smirk on his lips.

"Think someone up at the high floors might notice us?"

That makes you laugh out loud. "Don't know if they have time for little guys like you and I, but we can dream. Anyway, we've got a prosperous, trouble-free career ahead of us and plenty of time to suck up to Admirals who will definitely like us very much. Right?"

"Hey, you're the one who wrapped your baby arms around my leg. I tried warning you."

"I was young and impressionable." Reaching the end of the tarmac, you turn to him with a faux wistful expression. That classic Maverick combo of a timid smirk and squinting eyes watches you, amused but perpetually curious. "Yes, Captain Mitchell?"

"I don't want you to overwork yourself. You're doing good. Don't get in your own head about it."

The specific sequence of words does not sound strange to you. Are your protective layers shedding with age? It's the only explanation you can find for how targeted your friends' remarks have been able to sound for a while now.

Your feet readjust on the spot, hands clasped in front of your body with uncharacteristic formality for the both of you.

"Is this because I asked if we could stay up there a little longer to see the sunset? A bit on the emotional side, I know, but- Consider it your first wedding gift."

His eyes take your stance with a cocked brow, earnestly stepping forward, an apprehensive inhale filled with interest.

"Are you nervous about that? You know it's a small cerimony, we're just happy you said you'd do it, it doesn't have to be a big-"

"I'm not." It's curt, raising your hand to stop his rambling. "Let's make sure I keep you away from failing engines, birds, my own bad judgement- Out of harm's way entirely first, get you to your bride in one piece, and then I'll feel performance anxiety over the speech. Sound good?"

It's not hard to pick up concern in Maverick's full, green irises. It's always there, anyway. And he's definitely not scared to bring it up. A preamptive sigh escapes your lips.

"I trust you."

Overflowing with confidence and care, melting your cold-natured shell with a simple shrug of his shoulders and a nod.

"I know, Mav."

Your tone is on the annoyed side, his stubborn eyes making you squirm, but you can't find it in you to walk away yet. Expecting to hear one more promise.

"It'll work." Not quite what you needed. Huffing, you look away, throat singing a muffled note of disagreement, which makes him impatient. "What?"

"'Lot of risks."

"Usually not something Scorcher-deterrent."

"I don't usually get to wingman." A sharp, shooting pain in your chest. A feeling of impotence. "My job is to guarantee that you'll be fine."

There he goes again, looking up at you with certainty he simply expects you to share.

"Which is exactly how I know I will be fi-"

"That kind of talk is for friends and family, Mitchell. For me, it's counterproductive. I have to think about it. I have to consider it, worry. Or do you want me to believe you favored me for this mission because you're biased and not because you know I've got that same strain of unease you do about watching someone else's back? There's something sacrificial in you, and it's in me too, isn't it?” You seem to forfeit breathing, eyes stinging, canine showing. Don’t cry. “And the Navy may not openly encourage it, but it sure comes in handy, and you know that very well. That's why you chose me. So let me do my job."

Chest rising, you think about your backseater and her family asking why you didn't try harder. You think about Rooster's father, seeing it in Pete's eyes that he's doing that too. You think about Jake. And you finally get the urge to leave, hide.

"Is this really about flying?"

Maverick's good intentions. You hate them, you're so grateful for them. You'd never take them for granted.

"It's about everything. But it's fine, comes with the, uhm- You know. I got it."

"Have you talked to him?"

Scoffing, you look around the hangar, almost apprehensive someone will reprimand both of you for gossiping at work.

"Of course not." You turn back to Maverick with folded arms and a dismissive head shake. "But this isn't about that."

You can see it in your friend's face. It's about everything but him?

Lying to Maverick causes an involuntary physical reaction, as if you’re going to fall apart in pieces, clearing your throat to cover for it.

"It was always going to be like that. I prepared for it, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. But what you two did, you don’t not talk about it." He copies your standoffish posture. It's mocking, grinning up before he frowns again when you don’t react. He inhales sharply, trying not to sigh. "He RSVP'd for this weekend with a plus one. Not a problem, then?"

"Not a problem, Captain." You enphasize the title, straightening your posture as you watch some younger pilots walk by. "Thanks for letting me know."

Maverick raises his eyebrows, licking his teeth. Assessing. "Penny was concerned."

That makes your blood boil. Such a personal situation bleeding into so many lives when you didn't even allow that.

But you bite on your tongue, giving the couple a free pass for the weekend.

"It is pretty." You chuckle at Maverick's puzzled head tilt, pointing behind him. "The sunset."

"Right," He turns around to squint at the softening orange light, but his gaze slips back to you quickly. "See you at dinner?"

Your shoulders tense up thinking about what kind of traps they could set for you, turning to face the short man with a glare.

"Yes, Captain." When he smiles, you know to brace for some bullshit. He punches your shoulder as light as he can, which is still too much, and you cry out embarrassingly. "Jesus fucking Christ."

Standing there massaging your sore muscles, you let the the afternoon hue slowly take you to him. The sun reminds you of his hair. The clear sky reminds you of his sarcastic, obnoxious laughter when you were flying. The warmth reminds you of everything.

--- FLASHBACK ---

5:39 AM

The gym's floor is cold. Awake since two, working out from four to five. Maverick told you to meet him fifteen minutes before the usual start. You had showered and returned to the gym, not knowing where else to wait.

5:41 AM

Your eyes don't leave the pointers, nails digging into your thighs. Two days where you couldn't quite control your breathing. You should've gone with Coyote.

5:42 AM

It's just the machines, and the freezing sterile air, the colorless skin of someone who isn't recovering…

An attempt to inhale turns into a gasp, the butt of your hand massaging your sternum to soothe the tightening.

5:43 AM

A light turning on in the hallway forces you to stand up, jumping to your feet and hoping the captain doesn't get too upset over your lateness.

Your eyes are trained on the floor as you step out into the hallway, deep in thought praying Mav isn't pulling you aside for a heart-to-heart. That's more than your sleep-deprived brain can handle right now.

With a full exhale your gaze lifts right into a figure walking towards you.

His right shoulder sags to the side with the weight of the bag. Quickly scanning the rest of his body, he seems alright otherwise.

"Jake-"

As your eyes land on his face, his seemed to have been watching you the entire time.

He walked slowly, your feet springing back to life and cautiously bringing you closer. No smiles or other cues to assure you things were okay.

When you both stop, your mouth goes dry and the room feels drained of oxygen. Eager to unravel in apologies, you'll never understand why it's so much harder to say sorry when you mean it.

"I wanted to visit you at the hospital."

The rest dies inside your chest. Are you supposed to tell the person who went through an ejection that it was too hard for you?

It feels like ages since you've seen any warmth in the green of his eyes.

His eyebrows raise with an air of irony.

"What is it they say, the good die young, right? Doesn’t sound like me."

Despite the wink he throws you, his voice is weak and doesn't have even half of the attitude commonly attributed to Hangman. Playful tone now replaced by a short breath pushing you away.

He doesn't see the deep frown twisting your features down your face, walking past you with ease.

"Your shoulder, do you want-"

A dismissive hand gesture is all he gives you.

You should get rid of the lump in your throat before you meet Maverick's stumbling good intentions.

The bag slips from his shoulder to his fingers before he gets to his dorm, stopping to catch his breath, hand flexing as if invisible strings try to pull him back, in the direction you went. To you.

Of course his first encounter back at base would be with your somber face.

It seems he could only try and fail to not favor his romantic side. Jake had imagined a whole scene of waking up to your teary eyes and lopsided smile next to his hospital bed, a confession after he (kind of) nearly died. You had walked back on your words before, he could dream.

But you didn't show. And now the petty devil on his shoulder screams at him to fight back.

So he fantasized a different scenario, promising himself he would stick his chin out and breeze past you the next time he saw you. It's comical he has to talk himself up like this but if you wanted nothing to do with him, he would show you he has never had a problem moving on.

Then he noticed the bags under your eyes and the uneven buttons of your shirt, a visible distress unbecoming of you.

He knows you're not the most expressive person. He knows you've lost someone to an ejection before. Despite your stubborness, he knows you struggle. He knows you.

God, you could string him along, on and off, for several eternities if you wanted to - if only you wanted to.

When he steps through the threshold, Coyote has a quip at the ready and he greets him with a forced grin.

"Just in time to pack your bag and leave this dry desert, huh? Smart bastard." Javy zips his bag, and he chuckles. "Had time to think about how you're spending the next few months?"

Jake can feel the muscles in his face morph into a mix of mischief and self-satisfaction.

"Back to old me."

#theres a BIG happening that happened between them - thats what mav is talkn ab #but it remains to be seen if it will be told #thanks to anybody who reads this #let me know if you wish to be or no longer be tagged thank you.#she is both hellfire and holy water #jake seresin x reader

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