little top gun: maverick au. jake works at the family diner because he should wears a 1960s era uniform & sip milkshakes with bradley sometimes.
that's it, that's the reason.
//
most days, when jake pulls on his embroidered apron - seresin family diner, est. 1967 - and rolls the cuffs of his shirt up over his forearms, he's a little annoyed that he's still here. still working at the family diner, helping to fill the void left by the passing of his father. still trying to make it easier on his mom to handle this place alone.
"you should go back to flight school," his mom constantly tells him. "i'll be alright, sweetheart. i can manage."
"yeah," he'll answer, bending to kiss her cheek. "i know, momma. lemme get these patty melts to table seven, okay?"
and then he's working a full shift, heading home to crash, and waking up to do it all over again. keeps putting it off despite knowing the air is exactly where he's meant to be. it's his own choices that are keeping him here.
(just feels like he's able to do more right now on the ground than in the clouds.)
but his mom's just as stubborn as he is.
"before you start your shift," she says one evening, taking the apron from him. "there's a gentleman in booth four that's here to see you. he's an instructor from the school here in town."
"momma..."
"go talk to him," she insists. "introduce yourself. tell him you're interested in getting back into the program. don't argue with me, jacob."
sighing, jake heads out of the kitchen and makes his way over to booth four. the man waiting there is a little more handsome than he has any right to be, one arm stretched across the blue leather of the seat and the other resting on the table, fingers curled around a mug of coffee. he's smiling a bit as he watches people pass by outside the window, mustache twitching when he laughs softly at a group of kids across the street.
jake clears his throat, mouth going dry when the guy turns to face him. he can feel his cheeks going pink, slightly unnerved by how drawn he feels to this man already.
"i - uh. hi. i'm jake. i take it you're the instructor my mom wanted me to meet."
"that'd be me. i'm bradley," the man replies, shaking jake's hand. "i've heard a lot about you, seresin."
"all good things, i hope," jake counters.
bradley's grin widens, eyes running down the length of jake's body and back up. he squeezes jake's hand before letting it go.
"so far, yeah. i hear you're lookin' to get back into classes."
jake looks over to table nine and realizes his mom's watching their interaction with a smug smile. she knows him a little too well, he thinks.
he shifts his focus back to bradley and goddamn, those eyes.
"well," jake says, sitting down in the booth across from bradley. "i guess that depends on whether or not you can persuade me."
bradley's grin turns a little devilish. he hums.
"alright. let's see how long it takes me to turn your apron into wings, seresin."
i like to imagine that the entire dagger team did so well together that the navy permanently stationed them in san diego as their own unit because the thought of them all going to separate places after the uranium mission breaks me
yes, i know nothing about the military but let me dream pls
I absolutely refuse to believe that the Dagger Squad parted ways after the uriamum plant mission. Refuse. So either:
A - The Navy formed a super special and elite unit for them and they now are the ones who are called in for the most technical/dangerous missions but either way they stay as a squad and never do anything without having each other’s backs.
or
B - Admiral Simpson offered for them all become instructors at TOPGUN to reach the next gen of aviators and while they still go on missions from time to time, they are all living much more peaceful, comfortable lives together in San Diego where they go to The Hard Deck every night after work and hangout with Penny and go to Mavericks for BBQs on the weekends before ending their day with dogfight football.