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Mav's wedding was as big and bright an affair as one would've expected. Formal dress whites mingled with the bold colors of civilians, the crowd a wild mix of family, brass, sailors and friends.
Jake and Bradley had first begrudgingly and silently decided to make an attempt at being civil with one another, then found common enemies (some shrivelled admiral who thought fighter pilots on the whole were more of a nuisance than an asset) and finally made common friends (the Firestone IPA the bartender had recommended).
And at some point the teasing had turned into flirting, statements had turned into questions, and the bar by the dancefloor had turned into the storage closet down the hall.
Catching his breath from Jake's fervent attack on his mouth, Bradley ran his hands over Jake's tunic, suddenly taking his time.
"You got a uniform kink or something, Rooster?" Jake drawled, eager to move things along.
"No," Bradley replied lazily, his smile somewhere between bemusement and something dangerous that took Jake completely off-guard. Bradley seemed to think for a second before making up his mind and adding "But you do."
Jake's eyes opened wide and before he could think of something clever to reply, Bradley had used the couple of inches he had on him to crowd him against the wall and lean down so he could quietly speak with his mouth right next to Jake's ear.
Jake was at a loss for words and felt more than saw the grin on Bradley's face, like he enjoyed seeing the cogs of Jake's mind whirring free.
"Oh Jake," he rumbled, and when had that become a pet name? "Think about it." Bradley took half a step back and put his hand on the top button of his own tunic, as if to open it. "Do you want me to take off my jacket?"
Jake blinked slowly, remembering the times he had seen Bradley take off his jacket, or his flight suit, and then the other times he'd seen him get undressed in the locker room. He remembered that he'd seen Bradley naked a few times as well, stepping into or out of the communal showers, but he struggled to put any details to those images. Seeing him here, in his dress whites, was a different story. Jake tentatively lifted his hand to run a finger over Bradley's starched collar, crisp against his neck.
The uniform gave Bradley a different feel. The cut of the clothes was at least somewhat flattering, sure, with the way the shoulder boards made his whole silhouette more shapely and the pants showed off his ass. Jake could've sworn that Bradley carried himself straighter when he wore it, any trace of the slouch that Hawaiian shirts implied gone, but it was something else. The uniform meant something, represented something, a visceral reminder that the man wearing it was part of something bigger, something that Jake was proud of. He belonged, he was larger than just a man in some clothes. The stripes on his cuffs were marks of his competence, the ribbons on his chest tales of achievements and missions completed.
Jake realized that he wanted it all. He grazed his fingertips over the rack before pushing Bradley back slightly so he could look into his eyes.
"No." he finally answered, his voice rough, and Bradley's grin turned positively wolfish.
"No." he repeated, "Didn't think so."
With nimble fingers he started undressing Jake, unceremoniously discarding his jacket on the floor. As Jake lifted his arms to let Bradley take off his undershirt, he felt like it was in some way only natural that his clothes would follow the rest of his cover, which Bradley had so quickly and ruthlessly stripped off him. He decided that being naked was no reason to be submissive though. After stepping out of his pants he stood straight and tilted his head back so he could look at Bradley through his eyelashes. "You look good, Rooster," he challenged.
Bradley laughed quietly and put his hands on Jake's hips "I am good, Hangman. I'm very good." To prove his point, Bradley closed the distance between them so he could gently bite Jake's lower lip before greedily mapping the inside of Jake's mouth. Jake's breath hitched as he felt the metal buttons of Bradley's tunic dig into his warm skin but before he could recover Bradley all but purred "Tell me what you need."
Jake didn't have to think. "I want to see you," he demanded, evoking a small laugh from Bradley. "Me, or the dress whites?" he teased as he snuck a hand down Jake's belly, reaching lower and lower.
"Well, the dress whites I guess, but really it's more that - " The rest of Jake's sentence died on his tongue as Bradley's hand reached his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. He held onto Bradley's shoulders, feeling the stripes on the shoulder boards as his hips involuntarily twitched forward.
Bradley put one leg between Jake's to pin him back against the wall and started jerking him slowly with one hand. Jake ran one hand down Bradley's back, trying to get impossibly closer to him while chasing the delicious friction. When Bradley started mouthing at his neck and Jake felt the bristles of Rooster's moustache on his skin, he gave up on his last coherent thoughts. He moaned quietly, and suddenly wished they were somewhere more private, had more time, had more space.
Bradley twisted his hand to run his thumb over the head of Jake's cock, precome easing the way. His sleeve brushed against Jake' stomach, and Jake bit his lip.
"Rooster..." was all the warning Bradley got before Jake clawed at Bradley's neck and groaned, come spluttering over Bradley's hand. They caught their breath for a few moments, until Bradley raised an eyebrow. "Good thing dress whites don't include gloves," he declared, bending down to wipe his hand on Jake's discarded undershirt.
"How did you..." Jake cleared his voice, trying to regain at least some resemblance of dignity. "How did you know?"
Bradley smiled, but where Jake had expected him to look smug, he gazed at him with an air of fondness before bending down to pick up Jake's pants and shirt.
"I've seen you look. I've seen what happens when you've got someone in uniform in front of you. First I thought it's the authority but that's not it, is it." He handed Jake his clothes. "I think I only really realized it tonight though. You're not as subtle as you think, you know."
Jake hummed as he got dressed, ignoring his undershirt. He glanced down at Bradley's visibly tented crotch and remarked drily "Well, neither are you."
Bradley laughed, "Guess not." He suddenly looked unsure. "So now what?"
Jake looked at him, then suddenly gave him a smirk that reached all the way to his eyes.
"I think we're on slightly uneven footing here, that's not a position I enjoy. So now, I'd like to find out what your kinks are."
He turned to stand next to Bradley and put a hand on his lower back, guiding him. Without missing a beat, Bradley started walking towards the closet door, his voice bleeding surprise.
"Would you now."
Jake smiled to himself as he fell into step with Bradley. "Yeah. I would."