Chapter Text
Jake stepped out to pick up his morning paper.
Javy teased him endlessly for it,
“ Practicing for middle age, Jake?”
“I am six months older than you, Coyote.”
But it was a habit Jake just couldn’t shake. He thought back to mornings on the farm, before the rest of his family were up he’d run down their seemingly endless driveway all the way to the mailbox to grabthe paper. Then he’d race back home in time for his mother to be up. She’d thank Jake for the paper, pass him the comic section, and they’d enjoy their breakfast quietly until they were done and ready to get started on their chores.
He bent down to pick up his paper, and noticed something resting on top of it. It was a polaroid;
A polaroid of him.
It was him from last night-
He knew it was from last night because he was wearing the same fucking sweats and white tank now- minus the blue apron. (Oatmeal cookies can get messy)
His breathing sped up for a moment, because seriously what the fuck? But then he paused, Jake noticed the angle of the photo. It was through a window in his kitchen... On the left side of his house...
The side that faced Bradley’s home.
Of fucking course.
Bradshaw wanted to play? Fine.
And while he loved Reuben,
Payback’s a bitch.
Later that day found with Jake the rest of the Dagger squad at the Hard Deck. It’d been something they’d all been doing fairly regularly since the mission, especially since their stationing been made permanent.
The Navy thought it was a better idea to have all the best pilots in the world stationed in the same place for easier contact. So now, unless otherwise deployed, the Daggers had taken permanent residence in houses around Miramar. Payback and Fanboy were living closer to the beach, Phoenix and Bob moved into his grandparent’s house- it was adorably dated and Phoenix loved it- while the others were all scattered around.
Jake and Bradley had- by complete coincidence- bought their houses directly next to each other.
It wasn’t until one morning a week after moving in when Jake was grabbing his mail and he locked eyes with an adorably bedheaded Bradley a few meters away that they had realized what had happened.
Now that there was no competition, it was shockingly easy how quick they all fell together. Even Phoenix had warmed up to him. And Bradley...
Maybe it was because he saved his life- that tended to inspire forgiveness- but he and Bradley had really grown closer since the mission. It was harder than ever to keep his not so hidden crush from the older man.
Maybe that’s why Bradley was pranking him, maybe this was his- albeit slightly disturbing- way of play flirting? Still, he should know better than to dish it out if he can’t take it. So Jake carefully brought them their beer, saving a special one for Bradley.
They thanked him, each toasting to Phoenix’s pool win- shocker- and took a generous gulp, Bradley spitting his out.
“The hell?” His face was scrunched up, he looked at Jake in betrayal and confusion.
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, Bradshaw!” Jake gave him a wink and turned to the dart board.
He missed Bradley’s frown.
The next morning there was another polaroid. This time it was Jake outside the Hard Deck, hidden against the side wall smoking a guilty cigarette.
He knew it was a bad habit, but he’d never quite been able to kick it entirely. Especially since the mission, he’d found himself relying on a quick nicotine release more and more. He’d promised his sister he was quitting- and it was true he was trying;
He was just a weak man.
There was writing on the bottom of the picture this time, done in sharpie in block lettering across the white border on the bottom.
“NaUGHtY BoY”
Ok.
Weird.
If he was speaking honestly he always wondered how Bradley went about wooing someone, would he be overly attentive? Did he act like he didn’t care? He’d never been in the same vicinity as Bradshaw when he was dating someone, so he’d never had first person view of it. But he never imagined it like this.
This continued for a few days, he’d wake up to a new polaroid on his doorstep-
There was one of him leaving the house, one of him on a jog near the beach, there was one in the fucking grocery store deliberating between cereal boxes.
It creeped him out, especially when Bradley said nothing about it. In actuality, Bradley seemed to be getting pissed at Jake!
Any relationship that they may have developed in the weeks since the mission had been demolished. What they had-past tense- had been fragile, built on top of years of competition and bickering. But it was gone now, like a dandelion blown away in a hurricane.
Now it seemed like Bradley was always pissed. When Jake joined them at the Hard Deck he’d actively move across the room to be as far as possible from Hangman. Because Jake hadn’t taken this lying down, no-
Jake had been pranking him right back. He started slow, but as the photos continued with no explanation or acknowledgement from Bradley Jake got... Well,
Jake got mean.
He lived up to his Hangman persona quite well.
His latest prank had been a locker full of shaving cream, after a polaroid of Jake was left on top of his newspaper saying. “PreTTy BOy”
Bradley’d gotten so mad he actually shoved Jake, he’d tripped and hit the metal lockers none too gracefully.
Javy and Bob had stepped in then- likely to keep Bradley from getting into too much trouble- but it was safe to say he wasn’t in most of their good books.
He’d kept an eye on Bradley’s house. Trying to catch him in the act. But he never saw him do more then enter and exit his home.
Except once, giving Jake a good glare when he saw the blonde spying on him from the window.
He woke up groggy, it hardly felt like he’d slept, he’d gone to sleep late and woken up early. Some of the Daggers had commented on the bags under his eyes but he shrugged him off. He was halfway out of bed when a spot of red on his bedside table caught his eye.
It was a single red rose and a Polaroid.
A Polaroid of him- him in bed.
“SLEEpING BEAutY”
What the fuck.
Last night the heat was insane, Jake went to bed sans shirt. The photo was him laying on his stomach with the sheets pooling around his waist, his face was turned towards the camera- his brow furrowed even in sleep.
It was taken in his fucking room.
He looked at the rug beside his bed, there were dirt marks across the rug coming from the window-
the window he’d left open last night.
This was too weird. Bradley crossed a line- a voice in his head told him Bradley crossed a line a few days ago, all of this was creepy as shit- but he’d ignored it because... because...
It was Bradley,
The same Bradley he was desperate to hold the attention of, even if it was through somewhat disturbing photos. The same Bradley who he loved getting riled up, the Bradley he’d let down all those years ago in the academy, the Bradley who gave him the name Hangman, the Bradley he’d been secretly trying to earn back for favour of for close to a decade now.
But this,
This was too much.
Jake dressed in a hurry, gathering all the photos and stormed like a bat out of hell to Bradley’s front door. He pounded on the wood until a very sleepy Bradley opened it;
Bradley who, Jake thought offhandedly, looked far too good in just his sweats and a bedhead.
The older man rubbed his eyes and yawned. It finally must have registered it was Hangman at his door as he stood up straighter, face hardening. “What do you want, Seresin?”
The nerve of this guy to look annoyed when he broke into Jake’s fucking house-
“What I want is for you to leave me the hell alone.” He hissed, shoving the photos into Rooster’s arms. “Do you seriously think breaking into my house and taking photos of me is ok? And leaving it on my bedside table? It’s weird as fuck, Bradshaw.”
Bradley looked at him with confusion. “Stay the hell away from me- Or the next ‘prank’ you get back’ll be a punch to your goddamn jaw.”
He went to storm back home, but a hand on his arm stopped him. “Jake- wait-”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” He tried to tug his arm away but Bradley’s hold was firm.
“This wasn’t me!”
Jake stopped.
“Bullshit.”
Bradly’s stare was unwavering. “I swear man, I’d never.” Bradley Bradshaw was good at a lot of things, but he’d always been a terrible liar, Jake knew he was telling the truth. “These are… is this why you’ve been such a dick to me lately?”
Jake’s face went red. “Well... the first photo came from your side of my house, what else was Isupposed to think?” His body felt like he was pushing six g’s even with his feet flat on the ground.
“Maybe consider the fact l’m not psychotic.” He deadpanned. Bradley was looking between Jake and the photos, “Whoever’s taking these could be dangerous- you need to tell someone.”
“No- no way.” This was weird- this was insane-
“What the fuck Jake? You wanna end up on Dateline?” Bradley looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Just leave it.” He shrugged his arm out of Bradley’s hold and began his trek back to his house.
He could hear Bradley behind him. “Jake- you can’t be this stupid.”
“And you can’t be this altruistic, Bradshaw.” Jake turned in his doorway, grabbing the photos back from the older man and gearing to slam the door in Bradley’s stupid face “I don’t need anyone’s pity.”
Bradley was glare was a mix of anger and pleading, “This isn’t pity Jake it’s- it’s concern for your fucking wellbeing! Sorry, you’re my friend, and like it or not I’m gonna care.”
Jake didn’t know what to say to that, so he shut the door.
A few days later Jake was on his back patio, taking advantage of a spare cigarette he’d found in his dresser drawer, when he picked up on light footsteps coming around the side of his house.
Well, sue him for being slightly jumpy lately.
He dropped the cigarette and crept towards the corner, waiting for the perp to step around. When he saw a foot, he swung.
At least Bradley had the decency to look shocked.
In what seemed like a blink Jake found himself pinned against the side of his house; Bradley’s forearm across his chest, his wrist caught by Bradly’s other hand.
No- no, bad Seresin- this should not be hot.
“Jesus, Bradshaw- what the hell are you doing in my yard?” Jake said instead of the many, many other-more embarrassing- things rattling around in his brain.
“Were you smoking?” Bradley was looking at the butt still burning on the wood.
Jake finally tore his eyes from Bradleys- very close- face, looking over at the sad, shrivelled cigarette. “What- are you doing- in my yard?” He emphasized each word.
“Do you have locks on your windows?” Bradley’s weight was suddenly gone, and he began inspecting the windows like a detective trying to crack an especially difficult case.
The sudden topic change gave Jake whiplash, “What?”
“Do you- have locks- on your windows?” He mimicked Jakes earlier cadence. Jake gave him a glare.
“Yes.”
“Do you use them?”
Jake rolled his eyes. “I don’t know- when I remember, yeah?”
“Well, you should start locking them nightly.” Bradley pressed on the window panes as if he was testing the firmness of a mattress.
Jake felt like being difficult, “What about when it’s hot?”
“Get a fan.”
“Well, what about when the fan just blows around the hot air.”
“Suffer then.” Bradley deadpanned. Jake flipped him off, but Bradley just smiled at him. There was a moment where he and Jake just looked at each other. It felt... safe.
Bradley made Jake feel safe.
That was fucking terrifying.
They were standing in his backyard, discussing ways to keep himself safe because there was some psycho stalking him- and Jake felt peace.
Because he was here with Bradley.
He’d always wondered what Bradley’s attention felt like-What it really felt like- now he knew, and he liked it. He liked it a lot...
Fuck.
“-Jake?”
Shit
“Sorry?” Great. He’d zoned out at the worst possible time, typical.
“Did you get anymore photos?” Bradley’s smile was gone, his face was serious- quite similar to that day on the carrier before they deployed for the mission.
Jake shook his head, “No- not since I told you.” Bradley stared fora moment but nodded.
Bradley might have been a terrible liar,
But Jake wasn’t.
The polaroid he’d received this morning was burning a hole in his back pocket. It was Jake passed out on his couch, lit by the glow of his television.
But Bradley didn’t need to know that.
Jake’s house was dark.
It had been a good night- Bradley had insisted Jake join him and the Dagger’s at the Hard Deck- He’d argued against it for a bit, but Bradley wasn’t having it. He hadn’t left his house in the past week, he tried not to think on it too much.
It was his choice- he just hadn’t felt like it.
Jake sat in his window for hours. It was scary how the shadows fool your mind. One moment you see your coat hanger in your doorway, suddenly it’s a person- your heart picks up, all the blood rushes from your face. You think “Wow- I’m gonna die.”
Then, in a blink it’s right back to being a coat hanger.
Jake’s been jumpy lately. Someone’s been in his house- they took photos of him in his fucking bed- they’re leaving photos of him on his doorstep, and he has no idea who.
The photos were laid out across his kitchen table. How did they keep getting these photos?
There was one of him greeting a delivery man, “DELiCioUS” was scribbled across the bottom. He took a shower after that one and rubbed his skin raw.
Another was of him and Bradley from that afternoon in his backyard. It was blurrier than the others- “likely taken from farther away” his brain supplied.
That photo didn’t have any writing on it- that might’ve been more unsettling.
Maybe he should tell Bradley... maybe.
No.
He couldn’t be that fucking weak.
Jake threw off the collared shirt he was wearing, leaving his torso bare. He had walked home, wanting the fresh air- He definitely hadn't walked just because he knew Bradley would insist on accompanying him home.
“Loving the gentleman act Bradshaw, I’m sure it works on all the chicks.”
Bradley laughed heartily, head thrown back. The moonlight cast a halo around his hair, Jake thought not for the first time that Bradley would make a great knight in shining armour.
He’d walked Jake right up to his front door, they paused then- both noticing the underlining tension but both being too chicken to actually do anything about it.
It was Bradley that broke the moment first, “Well... If you uh, if you need anything- you know where to find me.” He nodded before hightailing it back to his house, Jake watched him in amusement, he was able to stiffen his giggles until he was inside his house.
His laughs echoed, the house was dead silent.
Which was odd, he could have sworn he left his fan on this morning. But the alcohol was making him relaxed, he didn’t think too much of it.
Jake stretched lethargically, making his way throughout the house. He grabbed himself a glass of water and heated up what was left of last nights dinner. Eating in the kitchen, staring at the pictures strewn across the table.
Today was the first day in almost two weeks he didn’t get a photo. The pit returned to his stomach.
He definitely left his fan on this morning.
Suddenly he felt completely sober. He took another look around his living room and kitchen, nothing immediately looked out of place- But the hairs on his neck were alert. He grabbed a knife from his kitchen block,
He wasn’t a complete idiot.
Without making it obvious, he began clearing his house.
Living room- clear.
Kitchen- clear.
Jake walked over to the bathroom, turning on the light but not the fan. He didn’t see anything, he stepped inside, careful to not leave his back open- nothing. Then there was his bedroom.
Jake crept towards the door, he tried to keep his ears open for anything, but he couldn’t hear past the pounding of his heart.
It was like a drum, like hurricane level winds were pounding in his skull. With a shaking hand he pushed open the door. It creaked eerily, opening to a black abyss.
Eventually the creaking stopped, he held his breath. He just stood there for a moment, listening for anything.
He could hear the crickets,
the hum of electricity from the lampost,
His breathing,
Wait.
No.
Not him-
That wasn’t him.
His whole body was shaking now, his eyes found the crack between the door and the wall, and there- hovering just above the top hinge...
An eye.
Someone was behind the fucking door.
He ran.
There was noise behind him, he didn’t care.
He ran faster than he ever has in his life, ran until he was at a solid wooden door. He banged on it loud as he could, yelling the entire time. Suddenly, Bradley was all he saw.
Faintly, he registered words coming from him.
“-ke? Jake! Are you alright?”
“Someone- there’s someone in the house- Bradley!” He was able to get out. Before he even finished speaking, Bradley had a bat in his hand and was storming over to Jake’s. Jake was a beat behind him, no way he was being left alone out here again.
Bradley kicked Jake’s door open, bat at the ready. Jake had a hand fisted in the back of his shirt. He tried not to feel like a scared child.
They went throughout the house, ending at Jake’s room. “He was in here.” Jake kept his voice low.
Bradley pushed the door open wide with force. It slammed into the wall without resistance, giving them amble view of the open window. There was dirt all over the room and across the bed, especially on the windowsill. Glass littered the floor below.
Jake felt his stomach lurch into his throat, and wondered if he was going to be sick.
“Jake, are you ok?”
“Yeah... yeah I’m...” the words jammed up in his mouth, he wasn’t even aware he was shaking until he heard Bradley’s voice.
“Hey, hey it’s ok- I got you.”
Warmth enveloped him, Bradley’s arms like a shield from the fucking horrifying reality. They stayed like that for a few moments, settling in the knowledge that this was too much. Too much...
“Jake, we gotta go.” He felt himself nod and followed Bradley out.
-Until Bradley suddenly came to a stop in front of him.
“What the hell is all this?”
Shit.
Bradley was looking at the table, all the photos were on display clear as day. The ones of him on his run, the one with the delivery man, outside the Hard Deck, The one with him and Bradley.
The photos Jake said had stopped.
“Ok- get in the car.” Bradley’s voice was clipped. He grabbed the photos and was now shoving Jake out the door.