Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Do y’all need anything else?”

Bradley smiles at their waitress—the chaos of seven other adults around a table shovelling breakfast into their mouths and gesturing as they told stories not the easiest to manage—and shakes his head. “No, we’re good. Thank you, though.”

She nods with a smile and then leaves. Bradley sips at his orange juice and chews on a piece of bacon from his bacon and maple syrup waffles. Jake was talking right now (shock), and they were all listening as he was telling them about the time he tried to ride one of the horses back home on his family’s Texan ranch, without a saddle when he was about ten, and fell off within minutes. Apparently it’s the reason he never neglects his thighs when he works out now.

Bradley’s not sure how true that is—especially with the lazy smirk Jake is giving them all, and the eye roll from Javy—but he’ll allow it. If only so he doesn’t have to think of the alternative.

“Are you going back there—home, I mean—now we’re all on leave?” Bradley asks; clearing his throat.

Seven pairs of eyes swivel in his direction.

“Why? You gonna miss me, Roo?” Jake purrs.

Bradley huffs, shaking his head with a smile. “No, I just wondered if all of you are free this weekend to go to a concert with me, back in LA?”

“You’re going back home then?” Nat asks.

Bradley feels Mav tense next to him; and drapes an arm around the older man’s shoulders, finally glad to have him back in his life. “Yeah. I’ll be going back. Been away from someone for too long. But I’m hoping Mav might come and stay with me for a little bit—or longer. If you want?” He aims that last bit at the man in question.

Mav looks at him with wide, green eyes. “Y—You do?”

“Yeah, Mav.” They’d talked in the days after they’d somehow all managed to come back from the mission, and Bradley had forgiven the other man for pulling his papers. He was still working on forgiving himself for how he’d acted, but he’ll get there. But now he had the man who had been like a father to him, back in his life, he didn’t want to have to say goodbye again so quickly.

He also wanted Mav to meet Stacee.

“Okay.” Mav agrees like all he needed was Bradley to want him there and he’d be there. Bradley hopes coming to live with him and Stacee in LA will help Mav with the first few months of retirement too. He himself couldn’t wait to tell his partner of coming up to 15 years now, that he was handing in his wings.

The last mission affecting them more than any other; and both him and Mav were using the second chance they had to do something about it.

“Great.” He beams.

“What concert you on about, Rooster?” Fanboy asks; like he’d hated having to wait to ask it for this long.

Bradley reaches into his back pocket and grabs the concert tickets that had arrived in the mail two days ago with a polaroid photo that he was definitely not sharing with anyone else—at the table or otherwise.

“This concert.” He says; handing out the tickets, Mav looking surprised when he’s handed a ticket. Bradley silently resolves to make it so that Mav won’t spend the rest of his life shocked that Bradley wants him around.

“Fucking hell!”

“Are you for real?”

“Who did you have to kill to get these, Roo?”

He bites back a laugh at the exclaims from his friends; knowing that the show in question had been sold out for months, but, well he had connections you could say, and Dennis and Lonny love him, so they always let him in to Stacee’s shows. Be nice to have some company this time.

“Isn’t this the band with the singer you used to have on your wall when you were a teenager?” Mav murmurs; fingers tracing the name ARSENAL on the ticket.

Bradley swallows and laughs sheepishly, hoping Mav’s not just gonna come out and say that to the man in question later on. “Uh, yeah. That’s the one.”

“How’d you get the tickets, Bradshaw?” Nat stares at him; eyes sharp and intense.

“I know a guy.”

She hums unconvinced.

“Are you guys coming, or what?”

There’s six shouts of either yes, fuck yes, heck yeah, and of fucking course; and then everyone turns to Mav. “You sure you want me there?” He asks quietly.

“Mav, I want you in my life. I want to spend time with you. Yes, I want you there.”

Mav swallows thickly like he’s swallowing down tears, and then bumps his shoulder into Bradley’s side with a grin. “Okay. Then I’ll come.”

“Good.” He breathes out a sigh of relief. “There’s someone I want you to meet anyway.” The team all Ooooooooohhhhhh in unison like they’re in school, and Bradley flips them off.  “You’re all children.”

“Is this the mysterious partner that no one’s met before?” Nat asks. “Not even me, I might add.”

“You have a partner?” Mav asks softly; looking like he was torn between being happy Bradley hadn’t been alone, and sad that he’d missed out on this part of his life before now.

“Uh, yeah. Been with them for nearly 15 years now.”

“Fuck, they must be a saint putting up with you for that long.” Jake chuckles. Bradley just rolls his eyes, thinking that Stacee is definitely not a saint. Bradley still gets on his knees to worship him, but that’s another matter entirely.

“Fuck you, Seresin.”

“M’surprised Stacee Jaxx is single.” Payback says suddenly; still staring at his concert ticket like it was made of gold.

“How do we know he is?” Coyote asks.

“Haven’t seen anything in the news about him.” Bob chimes in with, pushing his glasses up his nose. “For someone who’s managed this long in the fame world, and is still making music people like, if he was with someone it would either be in the news, or him and his partner do everything they can to stay out of the limelight.”

Bob was right. Neither of them were embarrassed about being together, but Stacee had wanted to protect Bradley from the press—especially when he was younger—not many journalists wanting to be nice about Stacee when they’d had fodder to chew on for years with his many issues he’d had before Bradley had met him. He knew Stacee wanted to shout to the world about being with him, but after Stacee had done nothing of note for a couple of years (except make music), the press had left him alone mostly, and so they hadn’t wanted to disturb the peace.

Dennis and Lonny knew they were together, and Sherrie and Drew, but everyone else just assumed Stacee was being his usual weird Stacee-self when he insisted that Bradley had access to the backstage if he was around and not on a mission. Even when he beefed up and got a tan, and grew a moustache (that Stacee was a big fan of, and the way it rasped over his skin)—no one even thought that they were together.

Most likely because Stacee had never had a long-term partner that the world knew about; having been one for many one night stands in the years at the height of his debauchery, alcoholism, and loneliness.

Stacee was Stacee Jaxx, and Bradley was just some guy; why would they be together?

“He must have someone.” Fanboy says, drawing Bradley out of his thoughts. “No one writes love songs like he’s written recently, without having someone at home to inspire him. The song ‘Gold-Flecked’ has to be about someone. Has to.”

Bradley clears his throat, hoping his cheeks aren’t heating up because he’s still not used to being Stacee’s muse, and shifts in his seats. “Well, whatever his romantic status, you know it’s gonna be a good show, so try not to miss it yeah?”

A beat of silence, then—

He just sighs and leans back against the booth as they all start jeering and booing like how dare he had the audacity to suggest they’d miss it. Mav just chuckles next to him and pats his thigh.

“I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

Bradley grins all soppy and lovesick at his phone screen; Stacee’s handsome face staring out at him. He’s sat up against the headboard of their bed, a mug of coffee in his hand and his hair tied up in a messy bun. He’s fresh-faced, and though he has lines that fan out from his eyes now because he’s in his mid-50s, he looks healthier, and happier than he had been when he’d been the age Bradley is now.

He looks good. Fucking spectacular even. And Bradley misses him with an ache that makes his teeth hurt.

It doesn’t help that Stacee’s laying there naked, because Bradley knows he doesn’t wear pyjamas, and Bradley isn’t there to touch him.

“Can’t wait to see you either, baby boy. I’ve missed you.” Bradley’s cheeks flush at the petname now, as they did when he’d first met him. It was ridiculous, but Stacee loved seem him blush, so… “To think that you might not have—”

Stacee shudders out a breath; still trying to get over the fact that Bradley nearly hadn’t made it back to him. He’d had a few near scrapes before, but this time had been different. They’d both known it.

“I know.” He says softly. “I know, Stace. But I’m here, and I’ll be back with you tonight. My friends are excited for the show. Plus, I’m excited for you to meet Mav.”

Stacee knew all of what had happened between him and Mav. He’d told him everything—the good, the bad, and the fact that even though Bradley hadn’t been talking to him properly, Mav had still sacrificed himself to save him.

“I’m excited to meet him too.” Stacee shifts and puts his mug of coffee on the side. “How long is this leave?” They’d managed to make it work over the years; with him going on missions and Stacee going on tour. They’d seen each other as often as they could, but Bradley knows this is going to be his last tour, and well—

“I—uh—handed in my wings, this morning.” He admits nervously.

Stacee sits up; green eyes wide with hope. “You did?”

“Yeah. I’m officially no longer a Naval Aviator. So…”

“So, I can keep you open and wet, and just fuck you all over the house, and don’t have to worry about you leaving?”

Bradley huffs out a laugh; palming his dick where it plumps up in his sweatpants. “Yeah. We can maybe have a meal together, and do other things to, if you want, in between the fucking.”

“Of course I want to, baby boy. I was just teasing.” Stacee rasps a hand over his stubbled cheeks—Bradley knowing he’ll shave before his show tonight—and his smile is so soft, it makes Bradley’s heart sing to be on the receiving end of it. “I really get to keep you for good now?”

“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.” He sniffs and runs a hand through his curls. “I—uh—invited Mav to stay with us for a while, though, so maybe just keep the fucking to our room for a while?”

Stacee laughs, but nods. “Sure. That’ll be nice. Was he okay with you handing in his wings?”

Bradley thought about Mav who had gone with him to the base to hand in his retirement paperwork, making it official before he left North Island, and how he’d looked at Bradley with teary eyes when Bradley had said he needed to do something while he was there too—clocking the lack of wings on his uniform when he’d emerged again, instantly. Mav had stared at him, and then had just pulled him into a hug and held him, whispering into his neck, “I’m so proud of you, Baby Bird”, over and over, as if afraid that if he let go, he might lose him again.

“Yeah.” Bradley swallows back the tears and runs his finger over the image of Stacee’s face on his screen. “He was okay with it. I think he was just glad not to lose me again.”

“I can relate to that.”

He blows Stacee a kiss and shifts where he’s sat on the sofa. “Enough weepy talk. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me when I’m in our bed tonight.”

Stacee quirks an eyebrow as if to say, oh it’s like that is it? and smirks at him. Bradley slips his hand under his waistband to fist his cock, and he sees the older man do the same. “Well, baby boy, I’m gonna strip you naked, then get my mouth on those tight, little nipples of yours that I know are really sensitive. And then I’m gonna stretch open your hole—get it all wet and soft, until you’re begging me to stick my cock in it—and then I’m gonna fuck you until you scream. I don’t care if we’ll have company, I’m not stopping until you’re crying and writhing underneath me, and my cum is leaking out of you, like it should be.”

Bradley bites his lip as he strips his cock hard and fast; Stacee’s words making his whole body flush and his hole clench with want.

“And then in the morning, I’m going to slip my cock back inside you and make you cry out my name before you can even open your eyes properly.”

“Fuck.” Bradley groans as he spills over his fingers; Stacee always able to get him wound up tight and desperate in no time.

He watches through hooded eyes as Stacee jerks himself off; feeling his cock twitch at the sight of Stacee coming and moaning his name; drops of pearly white splattering over his naked, tattooed chest, just begging Bradley to lick it off.

“God, I can’t wait to see you.” Stacee pants.

“Me too.” He grabs a tissue and wipes his hand; tucking his dick back in his sweatpants. “You know, now I’m no longer in the Navy, and you’re thinking about stopping touring, maybe we can make a statement to the press or something about being together?” He asks, tentatively.

“Yeah? You want the world to know I’m yours do you?”

Bradley flushes. “And that I’m yours.”

“Okay baby boy. We’ll do something.”

Bradley smiles at him, and knows tonight can’t come soon enough.

“Dennis! Lonny! How’ve you been guys?” He folds the two club owners into a hug, one after the other; the squad and Mav stood behind him, wide-eyed and a little overwhelmed.

“Bradley! S’good to see you. Glad you could make it.” Dennis claps him on the shoulder, and then looks behind him and raises a brow at the rest of them. “And you brought some friends.”

“Yeah, bout time, right?”

Lonny peers over Dennis’ shoulder like a tall, wild-haired meerkat and looks straight at Mav. “You’re right, they do look eerily similar.”

“Hush you.” Bradley flushes. Because he doesn’t see Mav that way, but he knows some psychologist out there would have something to say about him being in a long term relationship with a man who could well be his Uncle/father-figure’s twin. “We’re gonna go get a drink and find a place to stand. Catch you later, yeah?”

They nod and then Bradley’s leading them to the bar—Sherrie and Drew working a shift tonight as a favour to Dennis because nights when Arsenal play are always packed—and then they’re squishing in amongst everyone else; surrounded by torn shirts, sweat, and a lot of eyeliner.

“This is so cool.” Fanboy shouts; the support act playing their last song. “Can’t believe we’re gonna see Stacee Jaxx perform live!”

“It sure is a sight to behold.” Bradley murmurs; Mav the only one close enough to hear. The older man looks at him intently, and Bradley tries not to flush under his gaze—Mav always able to read him ridiculously easy.

“You’ve seen him perform before, haven’t you?” Mav stands up on tiptoes to say, right in his ear.

“Maybe.”

“Why do I have the feeling that the guy you know who got us these tickets might be the same guy that was on your bedroom wall when you were younger?”

Bradley swallows; fingers tapping his thigh, a nervous tic. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Mav.”

Mav huffs out a laugh and ruffles his hair, making him squawk. “Right, sure. As long as he makes you happy, that’s all I care about.”

“He does.” He says, because he can't deny they're together. Not to Mav.

“Good. I want to meet him though.” Mav says, like it’s non-negotiable.

“Mav, you’re gonna be living with me, ergo, you’re gonna be living with him so...you do the math.”

The older man rolls his eyes, before cupping his elbow gently. “The others don’t know, do they?”

He shakes his head. “No. No one’s worked it out, ‘cept for you.”

Just then the crowd goes wild because the support act had come and gone whilst Bradley and Mav had been talking, and now the beginning notes of ‘Pour some sugar on me’ were starting, and Bradley only had eyes for the man who was lit up on the stage—tattooed torso bare, and leather pants clinging to his thick thighs in all the right places.

He shifts and subtly tries to rearrange his dick in his jeans; the ripples of Stacee’s back muscles making him really fucking horny.

Mav flicks his gaze to him and smirks, before losing himself in the music the same way everyone else was. He can hear Jake hollering and Fanboy screaming; Nat was on Bob’s shoulders. The atmosphere was electric, and fuck, Bradley had missed hearing Stacee sing live.

The set goes on; Sherrie and Drew coming on stage to sing ‘Don’t stop believing’, halfway through to massive applause. Bradley could see the sweat dripping off Stacee’s skin and he ached to lick it off.

“I have one more song for you.” Stacee says to the audience after he's played over fifteen songs; wiping off his face and chest with a towel, before slipping on his sleeveless vest, and putting on his cowboy hat. A stool is placed in the centre of the stage, and Bradley’s eyes widen when he sees Stacee’s acoustic guitar being brought out—that one he normally only kept at home. “This song means a lot to me—and I know the fans love it, because every show I’ve done this tour, I’ve been asked to sing it. But I haven’t.”

He can feel the buzz through the crowd as they work out what song Stacee’s about to play.

“Holy shit.” Fanboy exclaims; slapping Payback on the chest excitedly. “He’s gonna play fucking ‘Gold-flecked’. Fucking yes!”

Bradley swallows and looks at Mav. The older man had only heard the song on the way over; the squad having insisted that he hear it even if it wasn’t gonna be played. Mav had been misty-eyed at the end, saying it was beautiful.

“I haven’t played this song on the tour, because when I sing it live, I want the person I wrote it for to be able to hear it—but tonight, that person is here, looking beautiful as fuck, I have to say, and so, you all get to hear it too.”

“Fuck, who do you think  it is?” Coyote asks.

“Heck, if I know.” Jake looks around; trying to see if someone in the crowd is suddenly standing out.

“This is for you, love.” Stacee dips his head to start strumming his guitar, but his green eyes meet Bradley’s own brown ones through the crowd, and Bradley can’t look away.

Slipped through the cracks,

Tore down my defences.

Have me obsessed,

Nothing else matters.

No longer broken,

Drinking my life away.

My eyes are wide open,

Breathless, I say—

I see you.

Clearer than rain, bright as the sun.

I see you.

Freckles for days, blush like a rose.

You see me.

Exactly as I am, scars and mistakes.

You see me.

Holding me tight, never letting go.

I see you; you see me.

This is our forever, forever.

Bradley blinks away tears; Stacee’s deep voice rasping over him as he carries on singing. There’s lighters being held up as the audience sways, the room silent bar Stacee singing and playing the guitar. Mav’s hand comes up to wrap around his back and he squeezes Bradley’s shoulder. They sway together until the last chord is strummed, and then the crowd goes wild.

“He really loves you, huh?” Mav cups his cheek; looking at him proud and wet-eyed. Bradley nods, sniffing and swiping at his eyes.

“Yeah. He does. Think we’re gonna say something to the press or something soon.”

Stacee clears his throat and the audience settles down. “Thank you for being such a great audience tonight. It’s been my pleasure to perform for you. And I know you’ve all wondered who ‘Gold-Flecked’ was written for, and well, I decided you get to know.”

“Think this might be the something, Baby Bird.”

Bradley gulps in a breath, and looks at his father figure with scared eyes. “What if they hate me?” He whispers urgently; the squad too engrossed in what’s going on, on stage, to pay any attention to his panic.

“They won’t.” Mav reassures him. “You’re impossible to hate, Bradley. You’ve very easy to love though. Trust me.”

Stacee stands up on stage; resting his guitar against the stool. “So, please welcome to the stage, the love of my life—my partner for the last 15 years. Come say hi, baby boy.”

He can hear the whispers, because he knows a lot of people expected Stacee’s partner to be a woman, but Mav is nudging him forward, and then he can hear the gasps of his friends; can hear Jake go “holy shit”, but his feet keep moving and he’s climbing on stage, his hand in Stacee’s.

“Hi.” He breathes out seeing the man he loves in front of him for the first time in far too long.

“Hi, baby boy.” Stacee’s fingers skim over his cheek to spear through his curls, and then he’s being pulled into a deep kiss; Stacee’s tongue licking into his mouth, lips curved into a grin as the crowd cheer after a moment of shocked silence—Mav cheering the loudest of them all.

His chest is heaving when they finally part and his lips tingle. Stacee’s looking at him like he’s hung the moon, and fuck he’s missed him.

“This here is Bradley; my baby boy. My rock. My partner and my muse. I very nearly lost him recently, but I recently found out he’s never leaving me again, so—because you’re my favourite audience to play for—I thought you might want to meet him.”

The audience cheers, and Bradley can see Mav clapping and whooping; tears falling down his cheeks. And his friends look shocked—whether from him being with Stacee or because they worked out he’s handed in his wings, he’s not sure—but they also look happy for him.

“And why you’re all here, you might as well be my witnesses for this as well.” Bradley looks at Stacee with confusion, and then his eyes widen; mouth falling open in shock as the older man gets down on one knee, holding up the thick metal ring with a star in a diamond on, that is usually on Stacee’s right index finger.

“Stacee…what are you doing?” He whispers; heart in his throat.

The older man smirks. “Making you mine before everyone else realises what a catch you are. Bradley, my love, will you make me the happiest rockstar on the planet and become my husband?”

He lets out a wet chuckle; feeling tears tickle his nose where they cling to the bristles of his moustache and nods frantically. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Stacee stands up and slips the ring on his finger, and it feels heavy, but right. He’s hauled into another breath stealing kiss and the cheer from the crowd is deafening.

“Thank you for such a great night, everyone!” Stacee shouts once he finally relinquishes Bradley’s lips. “Get home safe, yeah? And try not to gossip too much.”

He kisses two fingers and salutes them all, and then he’s dragging Bradley backstage to the lounge area. Bradley follows in a daze because he’s now Stacee’s fiancée and soon the world will know he’s going out with a fucking rock star. He’s too happy to care though.

Stacee flumps down on the sofa with his legs spread and pulls Bradley on to his lap; his long legs hanging over the edge as he curls into his side. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“Do you mind?” Stacee asks; petting his hair.

“No. We said we’d do something.”

Stacee huffs out a laugh. “I saw Mav with you. He looked—he looked really happy for you.”

“Yeah. He worked it out as soon as I looked at you on stage. He is happy for us.” Just then the doors open and Dennis and Lonny are ushering the squad in and Bradley gets up to do the introductions. Stacee is polite and shakes everyone’s hands, whilst Bradley suffers arm punches from all the squad—even Bob—for keeping it a secret from them.

And then Stacee is stood in front of Mav, and Bradley bites his lip nervously.

“Anyone else think they look similar?” Jake whispers none too quietly. Bradley whacks him in the chest, sshhing at him to be quiet.

“So, you’re the famous Maverick.” Stacee drawls; sizing Mav up under the brim of his hat. “Bradley told me what you did, by the way.”

Mav has the graciousness to look sheepish. “I figured. Going by the timeline, you’ve been with him since he was twenty, so thank you for making it so he wasn’t alone during that time.” The like I was, remained unsaid.

Stacee hums. “He also told me you took a missile for him without hesitation too.”

“Of course.” Mav clenches his jaw; blinking rapidly to clear the tears. “He may not be mine in blood, but he’s as close to being my son as anyone is ever going to get.”

Stacee looks at him, and then Mav’s letting out a grunt of shock as he’s pulled into his arms, and being hugged within an inch of his life. “Thank you for saving him—for letting him come back to me.”

Mav hugs him back and Bradley smiles softly when he hears his dad say, “Thank you for doing the same—for looking after him when I couldn’t.”

Bradley hugs Mav afterward, and then Stacee is tucking him into his side. “So, did you enjoy the gig?”

“It was great!” Fanboy says with a beaming grin.

“Can’t believe fucking Roo, has a song written about him.”

“You sound jealous, Bagman.” Bradley teases. Jake just flips him off.

“So how did you two meet?” Payback asks; the others nodding like they wanted to know too.

“Uh, we met right here actually. I—uh—snuck in because I needed some quiet because I was going through some things at the time, and then Stacee came in, and uh…yeah…”

Stacee bites his lip, trying not to smirk. “Let’s just say it’s a good job the pool table’s been replaced since then.” He grins just as Coyote leans against it; jerking back with a yelp when he works out what they mean.

“Learnt from the best, ey, dad?” He winks.

“Fucking hell.” Mav mutters, though he’s smiling.

“Get in, Roo. Guess you’re not boring after all.”

“Fuck you, Bagman.”

Stacee laughs and busses a kiss to his temple. “Oh, and for the record, I don’t think we look alike.” He murmurs, and Bradley just curls into his side snickering, while Mav buries his face in his hands; the squad debating whether they do look similar or not.

He feels the weight of Stacee’s ring on his finger as he clings to his shoulders, surrounded by his friends and his dad, and even though he knows the press are probably gonna have a lot to say following their engagement, he doesn’t care.

He can face anything with Stacee by his side.