Chapter Text
"Who's idea was this again?" Hangman grumbles as he rubs sleep from his eyes. "Actually, no… Who's idea was it to drink so much the night before we get on this thing?"
"The answer to both is Phoenix." Bob grunts from Hangman's left and takes a sip of his coffee before holding it out to the sun-bleached blonde.
"Thank you." Hangman grabs the travel mug and takes a long drink before handing it back to a yawning Bob. "Did you sleep at all?"
Bob shakes his head, covering another yawn.
"Figured I'd sleep better tonight if I just wait it out. Plus I wanted to finish my book."
"Ah, yeah, I saw that you were reading Salem's Lot." Hangman nods. "I vaguely recall I saw the TV movie when I was little. My aunt was obsessed with Vampire shows and shit and she used to come over when my parents were taking a vacation and she'd let me watch all those sort of borderline scary things."
"Explains a lot about you, Hangman." Fritz chuckles from Bob's other side where he's hunched over a railing.
"She's the one who lives out on Prince Edward Island now, yeah? She sounds cool." Bob observes, flicking Fritz in the ear for being rude.
"Yeah that's her. She was more like a sister, really." Hangman shrugs. "Only twelve years older than me."
"Well, I enjoyed the book, so I feel like we'd probably get along if you introduced me." Bob smiles warmly.
"Hmm… You into older women, Bob? First that milf from last night and now…" Hangman teases. "You're out of luck with my aunt though, she's a lesbian."
"You know I wasn't saying-" Bob rolls his eyes at Hangman's teasing smirk, fighting his own fond smile. "I hate you."
"I hate both of you." Fritz moans, looking a little pale. "Where the hell is everyone with our boarding passes?"
Bob checks his phone.
"They'll be here in two minutes, they just parked." He nudges Fritz and nods to Yale and Harvard in a corpse-like heap against a shipping container. "Go wake up the kids."
"Please let there be bloody marys on board." Fritz grunts and walks in the direction of his sleeping friends.
The other seven aviators show up looking less hungover than Bob's four companions, but there's tension somewhere and he shoots Hangman a look to see if he clocked it as well.
"Okay, there are six suites, they're all sufficiently huge but two are single kings instead of two bedroom doubles." Phoenix mumbles, casting a strange glance behind her. "Any volunteers?"
No one makes a sound, all apparently eager to splay out greedily on their own mattresses, and Bob sighs heavily, nudging Hangman with his knee and nodding toward their usually fearless leader who seems a bit shaken this morning. Hangman raises his eyebrows suggestively and Bob just gives him a blank stare in return, nodding in Phoenix's direction again.
"Fine, fine." Hangman stands up and walks toward Phoenix to grab their boarding passes. "Con gusto princesa. Dámelo."
"Since when does he speak spanish?" Fritz laughs in surprise. "I don't even speak Spanish, and I'm a Filipino kid from Chula Vista."
Phoenix doesn't say anything about Hangman's attitude, just gives Bob a grateful smile, which makes Hangman scowl playfully at both of them holding his hands out in displeasure at the lack of gratitude he's being shown.
"Give the other one to the kids." Omaha speaks up, pointing to his close friends from original Top Gun training. Harvard and Yale pick their heads up and wave in agreement.
"All aboard then, yeah?" Hangman returns to his more smooth native tongue and starts the march toward the ramp.
Bob follows him, eager to settle in and start a nice relaxing week.
*****
Bob wakes up with a start when something cold is pressed to his thigh.
"What, what-" He sucks in a startled breath and looks up to see Hangman staring down at him with his pearly white grin and designer shades. Bob fumbles to take off his own less fancy shades and rub his eyes. "What was that for?"
"You know you're just not gonna sleep tonight again if you take a five hour nap." Hangman teases. "Got you a frosé to wake you up."
The blonde holds the frosty cup out again and this time doesn't touch it to Bob's sun-warmed skin.
"Ugh. You're right." Bob sits up a little and takes the drink. "Thanks."
Hangman shoves Bob's legs over slightly and sits down toward the foot of his shaded lounge chair.
"So… There's a three day contest on the ship. Grand prize is two tickets with a free suite upgrade to another cruise of choice, 14 or 17 day trip, in fact."
"Okay?" Bob sips his frozen beverage through the swirly straw and waits for the punchline.
"I think we could win it." Hangman smirks, and Bob sees the competitive gleam in the man's eyes even through his polarized lenses.
"We?" Bob's eyes narrow automatically at the wording. He's just recently learned to wrangle Hangman, reign him in when he gets a little too ambitious. He readies himself to do just that.
"It's a couples contest." Hangman smirks wider, if possible.
Bob sighs in relief at the entirely harmless ridiculousness of his pilot and puts his glasses back on, settling in comfortably once more.
"Get Coyote or Rooster to do it with you." He attempts to wave away Hangman and his insane drive to win everything all of the time. "You've known them way longer than you've known me."
"Uh, no." Hangman pouts, Bob can hear it even without looking. "Number one, gross . Number two, you're my backseater, I know you better than anyone."
Bob can't really deny the truth in that.
By some strange chance, Hangman had been assigned to fly on a squadron with only F/A-18F deployments.
Bob, much to his horror, had been assigned to his backseat.
It'd been a huge adjustment for the man who hadn't flown a two-seater in years, but for some odd reason, they'd meshed immediately, Bob being used to Hangman's flying enough to predict his moves and mold to his style perfectly.
Hangman had been beyond thrilled at the entire series of events for some reason Bob had never really understood.
They spent an entire deployment living in each other's pockets and the blonde hasn't had a (serious) complaint yet about them spending the beginning of their leave together, sharing a room on a boat like they always do.
"Shit, who's idea was this cruise anyway?" Bob ponders out loud sarcastically, sipping his drink.
Hangman ignores him, continuing to make his case.
"Plus, if they expect us to kiss, I couldn't do that with Javy."
Bob's eyes go wide at the prospect of kissing the handsome, proudly bisexual man. In front of others, people they know , no less. Bob isn't sure he could do that, not without giving away how attracted to Hangman he's become recently.
"But you can do it with me?" Bob frowns, trying to sound offended, and more importantly, trying to push down the thrill that flows through him at the idea of Hangman's lips on his.
Hangman winks. Again, Bob can tell even through the glasses.
"Enthusiastically."
Bob rolls his eyes hard.
"You know that means you can't hook up with anyone you meet on the ship, right?"
"Wasn't planning on meeting anyone, sweetheart." Hangman coos. "Why would I do that when I've got you, the man I am in a happily committed relationship with, coming to bed with me every night?"
"You're irritating." Bob narrows his eyes.
"I'm irresistible." He corrects.
"Hangman, what are the chances that you're gonna drop this if I continue to say no?" Bob sips his drink, already feeling the dire urge to indulge in another.
"Astronomically low." Hangman answers. "Also, you better stick to Jake, since we're a loving couple now."
" Shit. " Bob takes another sip of his drink, effectively reaching the bottom. He shakes the slush to get the last of it and then holds it out to his handsome partner in crime. "Keep these coming when I ask for the rest of the afternoon and I'm all yours, Jake."
"Oh, sweetheart, you can have anything you ask me for. I'll take such good care of you." Hangman leers and sends Bob a wink before patting him on the inside of his calf and standing to fetch another drink.
" Shit. " Bob says again, settling his sunglasses on his nose and reaching for his phone to check the time. Two hours til they're all supposed to meet up for dinner.
Natasha is going to laugh in Bob's face.
*****
There's a bit of excited exchange about where the twelve aviators had explored on the giant cruise ship. Fritz insists they try and arrange a pick up game with some college basketball team guys he met, most of whom make Payback look short. Payback agrees reluctantly, complaining about his knees.
Everyone continues to share, and Bob makes note of what everyone has learned on their first day of adventuring.
Hangman clears his throat as he comes back with dessert.
"So, Bob and I need everyone's help." Hangman throws everyone the charming grin that has no reason working anymore after all this time, but everyone just sighs fondly and sets their forks down.
"Rephrase that, please." Bob demands, taking a sip of what has to be his fifth or sixth drink in the past three hours. He's nowhere near drunk, but he's a little more than loose lipped at this point, at least when it comes to Hangman.
Half the table covers their mouths as they snort in reaction, but the blonde ignores them.
"Okay fine. I need your help." Hangman nods and lowers his voice to make sure only the table can hear. "Bob and I are dating and we have been for the last ten months, and you've all always known this. Sound good, team?"
Everyone at the table looks around at each other and then Phoenix, predictably, is the first to break, cracking up in laughter.
"This is about that 'True Love' competition I saw on the theater schedule, isn't it?" Rooster shakes his head knowingly. "Hangman, you can't take a day off, can you?"
"Yo, why you let him drag you into this shit?" Fanboy laughs and slaps Bob's left pectoral, making him flinch and swat back at the smaller backseater.
"Cause he's been a good boy lately and does everything I ask in the cockpit." Bob stuffs a bite of garlic knot into his mouth and shrugs as people start laughing and whooping at a blushing Hangman. Bob winks at his pilot. "This is me returning the favor."
"Oh, you guys don't need us, you sell it just fine." Halo snorts, waving Hangman off as the man finally takes his seat between her and Bob.
"You hear that sweetheart?" Hangman leans in and tries to kiss Bob on the jaw. Bob just rolls ducks away from it. "We're a shoe-in."
"Uh-huh, and I'm allergic to tree nuts. I saw you eating a pecan bar earlier, so keep your mouth away from me." Bob glowers at the man.
"I went and brushed my teeth afterward." Hangman gives him an exaggerated frown. "I'm hurt that you would think I'd endanger you like that, baby."
"Jesus, I'm gonna throw up." Halo mimes gagging, making the rest of the table laugh at her theatrics. Bob knows they're laughing fondly at Hangman's over-the-top acting as well.
Bob looks up at Hangman curiously, unsure whether he's telling the truth. He opens his mouth to ask, but he's cut off by Coyote standing up.
"Alright y'all, I'm gonna need to freshen up and get my best jeans on before we hit the dance floor, so I'll catch you lovely people there."
"I look forward to seeing those famous moves again, bub." Rooster throws an air kiss Coyote's way.
"Oh! Oh, you joke because you're just jealous of my moves, Roo." Coyote winks on his way out. "I'll meet you on the floor!"
Hangman leans in and whispers in Bob's ear.
"So good, so far?" He asks the familiar words from their takeoff ritual, implying he genuinely needs to make sure Bob's okay with this.
Bob turns his head, their faces inches apart. He can still smell the Scope on Hangman's breath.
"You really did go brush your teeth before dinner, huh?" Bob huffs out an incredulous laugh.
Hangman's smile falters, just barely, and he shakes his head.
"Of course I did."
Bob nods and reaches for Hangman's knee under the table, squeezing gently.
"So far, so good." Bob confirms he's ready for this in a playful code that they know and trust.
It feels heavier than it should for such a silly thing, but then Hangman is smirking, that driven look in his eye.
"Alright then, let's finish up and follow everyone to the club." Hangman nods toward the end of the table where Harvard and Yale are eagerly following a table of girls in their mid twenties toward the door.
" Hangman, nooo ." Bob groans.
"Uh-uh." Hangman laughs. "You're supposed to be my doting lover. You wouldn't let me go out to a club full of thirsty people who're dying for a piece of my ass alone , would you?"
"Please bleach my brain so I forget those words." Fanboy sighs and stands from the table, following the kids as well as Fritz and Rooster, who had silently made their exit behind an arguing Omaha and Payback.
Bob looks past Hangman's shoulder and sees Halo whispering to Phoenix. They stand as well, giving Bob an apologetic smile.
Bob resigns himself to his fate, and less than thirty minutes later finds himself nursing an LA water by the bar.
Hangman dances a little with Phoenix, Halo, Fritz and Rooster, makes his rounds to the others and comes back to Bob's side. Bob is just finishing his drink, wondering how he drank that so fast. He's sure it had nothing to do with the way it felt to watch Hangman's body move in the not-too-dim light of the club.
"C'mon, Bob." Hangman extends his lower lip, fingers digging into the WSO's hip as he sways. "If I was in a committed relationship… I wouldn't spend the first night of my vacation cruise dancing with someone who isn't the love of my life. So, I need you to play along. For me?"
Bob winces at Hangman's puppy dog eyes. He's far too good at that look for someone already so good at getting everything they want.
And Bob is too drunk and tired to try and deny him.
"One dance, Jake. One ." Bob insists weakly, more of a plea than a demand.
Hangman's grin widens, showing off his infuriatingly perfect teeth.
"Oh, but that's all I need to convince you that you want more." He winks and tugs Bob closer as he melts backward into the crowd.
Hangman keeps his fingertips glued to Bob's hip, guiding him to the follow along the best he and his comparatively gangly frame can manage. The other hand holds Bob's nape gently, scratching at the slightly grown out hair there.
Bob catches Phoenix snickering at him as he awkwardly places his palms at the cinch of Hangman's firm waistline and tries to keep up.
It's not the first time Bob has gone out to a dancing establishment with Hangman, and the last time the man hadn't even acted like he wanted to dance. He seemed content to sit on the sidelines with Bob, laughing and watching their fellow aviators shamelessly make fools of themselves, high on the adrenaline of almost dying.
Bob guesses that Hangman is already putting his strategic plan to win the competition in action, making them a recognizable couple to anyone who'll be watching their events and voting for them on the final day. So he plays along, moving in time with the pop-edm dj's mix. Hangman has him held close, but not so close that Bob can't see his open, joyful smile.
Hangman seems to really want to have fun, in spite of claiming it's for the ruse. He looks at his backseater fondly, laughing when Bob barely moves on time to the music and keeps shooting Halo looks, obviously pleading for her to save him.
"If you really don't wanna dance, we can go." Hangman chuckles against Bob's ear, looping his bare, muscled arms around Bob's sweat-sticky shoulders. "It's late anyway, and you look like you're in physical pain, so…"
"I'm sorry, I'm just not good at this," Bob says in lieu of an answer, leaving Hangman to make the decision for them.
"You're fine." Hangman laughs again. "But I don't wanna make you miserable. Let's call it a night."
Bob lets Hangman lead him by the hand out of the small nightclub down the hall and into the cool night air. Bob leans his forearms on the railing, swaying slightly from the drastic change.
"Starting to feel the come down off those drinks, huh?"
"Didn't realize I was so tired." Bob nods, straightening again so that they can finish the long walk to their room.
Hangman doesn't reach for his hand immediately when they start walking again and Bob misses the way the strong fingers felt in his own.
Less than a couple hours of pretending to be a couple and Bob is already getting too comfortable. He needs to sleep it off and not drink that much again.
"It's this way." Hangman grabs Bob's hand again and stops him from passing their cabin entrance. Bob instantly sinks into the grip, listing Hangman's way slightly. He gives Bob a soft smile and laces their fingers together. "Wow, you really are out of it."
"Frosé is a helluva drug." Bob mumbles senselessly, and Hangman has to smother his own surprised laughter as he drags Bob toward the room and gets them inside.
"Good idea heading back early. Gotta rest up for our big day tomorrow." Hangman grins, shutting and latching the door to their room before turning around to search for where he'd stashed his duffel.
"You're gonna be the death of me one day, Hangman." Bob groans at the thought of whatever the qualifying and trivia portions of the competition entails. He strips out of his sweaty clothes and heads to the shower to rinse off before bed, bringing his toothbrush with him.
"Oh, likewise, sweetheart." Hangman chuckles low and soft. He gets his shaving kit out and holds it against his chest leaning against the wall right next to the bathroom, not commenting on Bob's apparently bizarre habit of brushing his teeth in the shower like he used to the first thirty or so times he'd witnessed it. "But it's not going to be any time soon, so save me some of that hot water, why don't ya?"
Bob finishes brushing his teeth and the perfunctory soap rinse. He gets out, not even bothering to turn off the water. He wraps a towel around his waist and then pats Hangman's cheek tiredly with his free hand as he passes him.
"Night, Hangman."
"Night, Bob." Hangman snorts and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Bob makes haste in drying off and dressing for bed. He's passed out under the soft, welcoming sheets before Hangman even finishes his shower.