Chapter Text
Thick, salty ocean air clung to the glowing lights strung across the Hard Deck’s porch. A hazy outline blurring the lines as the sun melted into dusk. The bar was already vibrating with drunken patrons and an Eagles song hummed through the jukebox, bleeding into the parking lot. This was a typical Friday night in Miramar- naval aviators swarming the bar. Desperate to rupture the steady pressure of their weeks and find solace in giving each other a hard time.
Lynx was no different.
She had been stateside for a few weeks now, settling back into the heat with familiar company after a posting in Cornwall. This is where she became inseparable with her now chosen fixtures at her sides, Scratch and Phoenix. It seems the Navy was feeling generous in giving these three girls more than just a year and a half in England. Now assuming Top Gun could contain the bond forged.
The worn wooden floor clicked as Lynx and Phoenix pushed into the bar. The air somehow thicker inside, causing a bead of sweat to pool at the nape of Lynx’s neck, caressing her soft auburn hair that she has learned how to perfect. She took in the usual antics of the bar, spotting familiar faces huddled around the pool tables. A warm feeling in her chest as she turned her head to see Scratch already curled over the bar top, talking to Penny. A typical sign that the night would turn out exactly as they had planned, the three girls falling over each other as they waited for Penny to drive them home.
“Oh, there are my girls!” Penny tilted her head dramatically when she spotted the two walk in, a gleeful inflection welcomed them unofficially.
The two closed the gap, forming a small circle around Penny behind the bar.
“You know we wouldn’t miss a Friday night with you,” Phoenix replied in an over indulgent tone, trying to match the warmth of Penny.
A cold beer hit the counter top before she replied, already knowing exactly what the girls needed. Followed up with a whiskey and coke which Phoenix practically swiped away.
“Thanks, Penny,” a sweet smile formed on Lynx’s face, truly thanking Penny for how she puts up with the trio.
This earned a playful shrug from Penny, “You know I’m always here for my angels.” Her words were jazzed up, liking the collective nickname she bestowed on the three girls. Instantly picking up on their wild side but also how attuned they were to each other when needed, the corresponding hair colours were just a plus.
The three held up their drinks in a mock salute before turning to make their way through the bar. Khaki and ego brushing against them as they pushed through, Phoenix led them naturally, always taking the protective route. Scratch and Lynx follow closely, already giggling about something that neither of them could name.
The neon on the walls was brighter in the back, accompanied by sharp sounds of pool balls hitting each other and loud jests by the dart board. Lynx let the cool bite of her beer fully immerse herself into the area, lightly pulling at the side of her shirt. Feeling the thin white fabric release the top of her hip. A smug feeling brewed in her chest as she caught Scratch doing the same thing, knowing Scratch had a different intention, her eyes locked on some blonde guy in the corner- her prey for the night. Lynx shook her head in admiration of how fast her friend got down to business. Before Phoenix had landed them into a clearing with the rest of the group they were spotted. A theatrical holler cut through the music, an anticipatory look from the girls at the familiar tone.
“I was wondering when trouble would walk through those doors,” Hangman announced dramatically, running a strong hand through his gel slicked blonde hair. A proud puff in his chest when he spoke, causing the rest of the guys to look over, adding their own comments. Nothing off kilter but just them, always having something to say and laying it on thick.
“You should worry less about who walks in and more about trying to keep up with me.” Phoenix barked back, hands already finding a pool cue and taking a sip of her short glass.
The section erupted, expecting for one of the girls to push back a bit, but always overplaying their reactions when it is pointed to Hangman.
“Phoenix, you know better than to volunteer to play with me,” he drawled, leaning forwards slightly as he picked his cue back up. A wicked smile upon his face as he purposefully twists her words.
The other two girls pulled away from the early banter, not having any skin in this game between Hangman and Phoenix. The deep red vinyl creaked against their weight as they climbed into the tall chairs by the table. Taking in the scene in the early night, neither of them really big into playing but fully enjoying the quips that shoot across the group when the others do.
Scratch’s head found it’s way back to the blonde from earlier, not consistent but enough to let him know he was in trouble later. A soft hum from her lips as she looked back at Lynx, who’s already giving her a crooked smile.
“You’re so bad Scratch.” A low tease left her mouth, already feeling the warmth of the drink creep up her face.
Scratch just shrugged, clocking the playful tone and letting the comment roll of her shoulder. She takes another sip of her drink, something pink and fruity before leaning into Lynx to speak. Not wanting to have to shout over the music.
“It feels good being back, Lynx. I loved Cornwall, but this just… feels like home,” Scratch sighed, taking everything in—the dart games in the corner, the groups of civilian girls pretending to be overly interested in aviators. She smiled, and Lynx knew she was thinking about all the memories they had made here before leaving last time.
“I know, Scratch. It feels good being back … not to mention watching Phoenix kick Hangman’s ass,” She added, trying to contain her laughter as those two immediately began arguing over the game’s rules. Phoenix slapped her hand on the table; Hangman threw his arms up like he was guilty but that goofy smile telling her that this is exactly how he wanted his night to go between them.
The night rolled on like it usually did, Coyote and Bob joined the pool games, Penny kept cold beers flowing, and Scratch made her way over to the blonde in the corner. The noise settled into the familiar rhythm of home. Lynx had her back to the door, trying to convince Bob he would not, in fact, die if he tried her beer. Letting her hands run along the rough fabric of her jeans, needing something to ground herself as she noticed that she has lost count of just how many beers she has already had. Feeling steady in the rhythm created here this time, no distractions and nobody to scan the room for.. Bob’s eyes suddenly flicked up behind her, and a huge grin spread across his face. He turned Lynx out instantly.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Rooster standing in the Hard Deck,” Coyote called out, following Bob’s gaze.
Lynx’s head snapped towards Phoenix before she knew it. Her hands now gripping her jeans, trying to comfort the sudden weight in her stomach. Phoenix’s eyes already locked in on Lynx, a neutral look trying to gauge the clean up that would be needed. The blank stare was all that Lynx needed to know, she let her eyes close tight, trying to wish herself out of the reality.
Phoenix was already on the defence, weaving her way through the group of guys and landing her hand on Lynx’s arm. A firm tug towards the bar- a lifeline. They moved swiftly and with practiced stealth towards the bar. Lynx let Phoenix drag her away, feeling a hot throbbing burn it’s way through her spine and into her ears, glossy eyes meeting Phoenix’s as she sat her down in the bar stool. Away from everything she had to try so hard to forget.
Neither of the girls had spoken yet, they didn’t need to. Lynx didn’t turn to see him yet, she couldn’t. She froze in time, suddenly realizing how heavy the bottle in her hand felt. Waiting for Phoenix to set the scene for her.
“Yes it is him, Lassie.” The use of her first name made Lynx shutter with the weight, feeling fragile all of a sudden.
“But no, he hasn’t seen you yet,” her tone was soft, answering questions Lynx hadn’t even thought to ask but were burning at the forefront of her head, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.
Penny must have caught on to the situation, sliding Lynx another beer. Meeting the nervous heavy eyes with her a quick smile, “Looks like you’ll need this.” She hardly stays, busying herself with wiping down the bar. Not wanting to step into something unnamed yet.
Lynx takes a sip of the fresh beer, letting the cool drink soothe the tense feeling in her gut. She focuses on the drink for a moment, composing herself before turning to Phoenix who has one eye on the group and one on Lynx. Trying to make a game plan for the inevitable.
“Nix, what do I do?” Lynx asks simply, a hint of a laugh in her voice. Not finding this situation funny but not knowing how else to keep her mind at bay.
“Not sure Lynx,” her eyes trail off for a second, flicking back to hers fast.
“But he is headed this way so no time to think. Remember this is Rooster, you know how to handle him.” Her tone shifts into a pep talk, no time for mushy comforts now.
The comment helps Lynx slightly, reminding her that this is not new territory with him. Flashes of their overlap in Pensacola lock her knees and her tongue feels dry at the memory. This is happening whether she wants it to or not. It shoots through her, cold, precise. She can stay cool under pressure, this is something she does everyday.
Lynx shoots Phoenix a smile, something unrecognisable but convincing. She takes a long drink and slightly pulls down the neckline of her top, exposing the tanned curves of her chest. Needing some ammunition if she’s going to make it out of this conversation, something she knows Scratch would tell her to do if she needed to cause distraction when she felt unsure about her own outcome.
She doesn’t turn yet but she can feel him close, the faint smell of cedar and jet fuel make her hands weak. Then, the pull in her chest. Something she never got used to, how her body knew he was close, how it craved him despite her gut feeling to stay away.
Not able to keep herself averted she turns slowly, the hard wood of the counter caresses her back as she leans against it, an attempt to ground herself. She runs a lazy hand through her hair, an effort to look unaffected by him. Her other hand wrapped loosely around the bottle, a forced half lidded stare in front of her, knowing the sight of him will feel like a punch to the stomach.
It does.
He was a few feet away. Aviators clinging to his rugged face in the dim light, his chest straining against the hawaiian shirt that is unbuttoned just one too many. The curve of his hair is the same, warm blonde streaks hugging the deep brunette locks. A lazy smirk creeps against his thick cowtail moustache- the sudden taste of beer and salt on her tongue as she is reminded of the late nights they shared, the nights that haunt her. She tried to force herself to look away. But, the weight of his gaze steaded her shoulders, the quiet claim he had on her in full affect. His smug gait telling her that he felt it too.
He stops too close for comfort, in Lynx’s space like he belonged there. He let the presence sit for a minute, a full smile finding it’s way on his face as he notices the way she is trying to ignore him. She tries to ignore just how close their knees are, how if she straightened her arm it would find the small curve in his neck that she used to steady herself the last time they seen each other in Pensacola.
“You look good Lynx,” his voice is low, smooth and clean. Exactly as she remembered it.
Her arms flex at his words, tensing up at the soft inflection of her name in his mouth.
“Rooster,” a sweet but challenging tone, trying to sound disappointed to see him.
It doesn’t work.
The corner of his mouth pulls up, warning her that he knows how to play this game with her. His eyes wander over her, stopping briefly to see the condensation from her bottle drip onto the top of her chest, his eyes find their way back onto her face.
Lynx let her head tilt slightly, feeling like she could hide behind it. Seeing his eyes stop on her chest, feeling caught in her attempt to throw him off causes a pool of nerves in her stomach. She pushes through the unease of it all. Each second looking at him feels like a spark striking dry wood, she swallows hard. Trying to find comfort through the need to lean into him and knowing she should walk away.
“When’d you fly in?” She cuts through his look, a slow up and down like he is memorizing each part of her. Something she knows she’s not strong enough to fight.
“Earlier today,” he reaches his beer up to his mouth before finishing his thought, taking his time before speaking again.
Lynx catches the flex in his forearm as it raises the bottle. Instantly shifting her weight against the wood grain in response, trying not to stare at the tension in his arm.
“Thought I’d surprise the guys,” his voice softens, leaning into Lynx’s shoulder slightly, “guess I got lucky seeing you here.” It ripples off his tongue, too easy for him to walk down this road again.
Lynx doesn’t back away from his lean, she can’t. The minty smell of his breath mixes with the thick aroma of beer and too many different colognes of the bar. A faint smile crawls through her chest, creeping onto her face, failing to hide the comfort she feels in his presence.
“Rooster, play nice,” Penny enters the heat wave between them, handing Rooster another drink, a clever look on her face but a warm gesture.
Rooster nods once, acknowledging Penny’s warning, not letting her take his attention away from the girl in front of him. Neither of them move, neither of them look away from each other. Almost daring one another to be the one to break. They’re both too stubborn to admit that they can’t pull away.
“I’ve outgrown this.” Lynx flicks her hair over her shoulder, removing the barrier from her sight, the dull ache in her stomach forming into something else, something brave enough to take in the full view of him.
Rooster lets her comment sit for a minute, his eyes challenging the comment, “I’ve missed that mouth, Missy.” He sucks his teeth lightly, knowing exactly what that name did to her. Deciding to play dirty.
Lynx feels her arm pull away from her side, gunning right for his bicep. She stops it, letting it rest on the top of the bar instead, taking a small step towards him. “Don’t start,” her words body betraying her speech, she feels the closed distance in her legs, sore and gummy.
“Rooster you’re up.”
Coyote calls from across the bar. A slight ball forms in Lynx’s throat, as Rooster refuses to look away.
Lynx tilts her head beside him, gesturing him to the guys in the back. Her bare neck stretches in front of him, the skin on her nape burns from the exposure. His eyes don’t falter, just a soft smirk pulled onto his face before he turns away.
He moved through the room like he commanded it, steady through the crowd and head on for the guys at the back, his broad shoulders float through the room like a bad omen.
A small part of Lynx expected him to turn around once, checking in on her, he didn’t. When she did turn around she felt the cool glass meet her lips immediately, the music felt sharper now and her shoulders loosened as she met Phoenix gaze. A small chuckle escaping her, witnessing the entire encounter. Lynx felt the heat in her chest rise into her cheeks, she huffs through the burn, attempting to trump the overwhelming feeling in her body.