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roosterforme · 11 months

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How Could I Forget? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley met you in a dive bar in Virginia, he just knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about you. Even a year later, he still remembers your laugh and the way you kissed him.

Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

I wrote this for the 'Its not the prompt. It's the creator' challenge from @tgm-all4one. Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley flipped through the options in the ancient jukebox while he sipped a cheap beer. This had to be the shittiest bar he'd ever been inside, and that was really saying something, since he was a University of Virginia alumni.

"Let's see..." he muttered. "Danger Zone? No. Take My Breath Away? Nah. Slow Ride? Absolutely not."

He finally selected Great Balls of Fire and turned to check where his cousins had disappeared off to. But the bar was packed with locals waiting for the fireworks to start over the Chesapeake Bay, and he couldn't spot any of them.

If they ditched him in this sticky little hellhole on the outskirts of Norfolk, Virginia, he was going to be so pissed. He scanned the bar once more as the song started playing, and his eyes settled on the cutest thing he had seen in a long time.

You were holding your beer bottle like a microphone and aggressively lip syncing along with Jerry Lee Lewis as his voice blasted from the jukebox.

Bradley smiled. You were right in the middle of the crowded bar, but nobody else had seemed to notice how you were shimmying along to the song, looking adorable in your own little world. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you mouthed Come on baby, you drive me crazy! Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

When Bradley laughed, you opened your eyes, and they met his immediately. You pressed your lips together, suddenly looking shy at being caught rocking out. You covered your mouth with your hand in embarrassment as your eyes went wider while Bradley tried to squeeze through the crowd to get to you.

He was afraid you were going to try to sneak off, but you didn't. You were just nonchalantly drinking your beer when he reached you.

"That was quite a performance," he said, and you looked up at him, clearly amused.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, but your smirk said otherwise.

"That was my song," he said, nodding toward the jukebox.

"What do you mean?" you asked, pressing the bottle to your lips, and drawing Bradley's eyes down to watch the way you took a sip, the bottle lingering on your bottom lip for a beat.

"I selected it. On the jukebox," he grunted, and you laughed at him.

"No, you didn't. I did."

Bradley scoffed as you squared your shoulders and jutted out your chin in playful defiance. "I chose it like three minutes ago," Bradley insisted.

"I picked it like five minutes ago!" Your laugh was infectious, and Bradley just wanted to keep it going.

He shook his head solemnly. "It's still my song."

And you shook your head, imitating him. "If anything, it's Jerry Lee Lewis's song."

"Well, I can't argue with that. I did love your cover version though."

"Thanks." God, your smile was adorable. And your lips on that bottle had him thinking some scandalous things about your mouth.

He cleared his throat. "Are you from Norfolk?"

You sighed deeply. "Unfortunately. You?"

"Virginia Beach."

You crinkled your nose and made a face that had him laughing again. "That might be even worse. You still live there?"

"For now," he replied. "I'm waiting on a new work assignment."

"Can I tell you a secret?" you asked, and when Bradley nodded, you coaxed him closer with your finger. Gorgeous. You were so pretty, Bradley was afraid he wouldn't be able to comprehend your words this close to your eyelashes and your mouth. "I escaped. I live in San Diego now."

"Bravo," he whispered, but he knew you could still hear him over the jukebox as it played Slow Ride. "What's it like to escape Virginia? I've only ever read about it in works of fiction. I've never met anyone who actually managed to do it."

You laughed again, and Bradley had to fight the urge to kiss you. He didn't even know your fucking name, but he was dying to feel your lips on his.

"It wasn't easy," you promised. "Oh, no, my friend, it was not easy. My whole family still lives here, in Norfolk. My brother is in the damn Navy, if you can believe that. What a waste of a career, right?" you said with a massive eye roll. Bradley opened his mouth to respond, but you added, "Today is his birthday. Born on the Fourth of July, in the military, model citizen. I come home for his birthday every year and end up in this shitty bar every year."

Bradley couldn't contain his smile. "I'm in the Navy."

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, shit. The Navy is the best!" you said brightly. "Oh boy, do I ever wish I had joined the Navy!"

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed harder. "I like you. You're brutally honest," he said, still laughing as you bit your lip, unable to stop smiling.

"I'm so sorry," you said, trying not to laugh. "Come here. Let me buy you another beer to make up for the fact that you're in the Navy, you poor thing."

Bradley just shook his head, but then you took his hand in yours and gently led him to the bar. And you kept your hand linked with his while you ordered two drinks. But when you started to reach into your pocket to pay, Bradley took both of your hands in his larger one, and you looked up at him, surprised.

"I've got it," he told you, pulling some cash out of his own pocket. "It's not every day you meet a celebrity."

"Celebrity?" you asked, and he pulled you closer by both hands.

"You escaped Virginia! Buying you a drink would have to give me good karma! Who knows, maybe I'll even get stationed somewhere new."

Bradley released your hands when the beers arrived, but you didn't move away from him. "Where do you want to get stationed?" you asked, and Bradley couldn't look away from the curve of your lips as you took the first sip from the bottle.

"Somewhere warm," he told you. "But I guess I could learn how to brave some cold weather if I had to."

When the woman behind you bumped into you, Bradley could feel the warmth from your body through his clothes. You were that close. He wanted you closer. And then you were snug up against the front of him. "Well, I think you're brave," you told him with wide, teasing eyes.

"Because I'm in the Navy?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer as you shook your head.

"No," you told him with a soft laugh. "Because you dare to sport a mustache. Almost nobody can pull that off." Now you were giggling as he ran his fingers along his facial hair.

"I think you're having a lot of fun at my expense here tonight," he told you. "I think you like me."

You were quiet for a few seconds, and Bradley's heart beat a little faster when you said, "I think you like me, too."

"What's not to like?" he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers along your cheek. "You stole my song. You hate my job. You made fun of my facial hair. And you managed to hijack my escape from this state, because surely the odds of two of us getting out are just too high."

And then you kissed him. Just a soft brush of your lips to his. But it was perfect. And then the fireworks started outside, but you stayed right there with him, your hand coming to rest on his chest.

Everyone else rushed out to the deck or down along the water to watch the colorful display, even the bartender. But you didn't move an inch, and now Bradley was setting down his beer. This time he kissed you, and you nibbled on his lower lip as your other hand tangled in his hair. Bradley's hands went to your waist, as he tasted you. Beer and something kind of sweet.

"What's your name?" Bradley asked between kisses, and when you told him, the sound of it echoed through his mind. He whispered it back to you, against your lips as you dragged your fingernails along his scalp. "I'm Bradley."

"Hi, Bradley," you said with a smile between kisses. "I'm sorry I stole your song. And I actually think your mustache is cute."

He was smiling so much against your neck as he kissed you there. "I'm really happy I came to this shitty bar tonight."

"Me too," you gasped as he sucked on you there before returning his lips to yours. These hurried, needy kisses turned more languid as they slowed down. You had pushed Bradley back onto an empty stool, your palms on his splayed thighs as he stroked your neck and face while you kissed. Every little moan and gasp had him coaxing you closer, and then the fireworks ended. The other patrons started trickling back into the bar as your lips nudged his in one final kiss.

You pulled away from him, smiling and sliding your hands down to his knees. He leaned a little close to your face, ready to beg for one more kiss as he said, "Please, let me have your phone number."

You leaned in and kissed the corner or his lips before you backed away. Bradley was up out of the stool, chasing the warmth of your body, but you shook your head.

"That's not a good idea," you told him, gently pressing your palm to his chest, and it took you a few beats to meet his eyes. "And make you pine for me from afar?" you asked with a soft, teasing smile. "I couldn't live with that."

Bradley whispered your name about a dozen times in a row until your eyes closed. He kissed you softly and said, "I'm pretty sure I'll be doing that anyway. Pining for you."

You looked up at him, gaze darting between his lips and his eyes, almost like you were about to cave. But you shook your head and said, "You'll forget all about me by tomorrow."

Then someone called your name from the other side of the bar and stole your attention from him. And Bradley felt all the perfect flirtation and banter and kisses slipping through his grasp.

"I need to go," you told him, and you looked so sad. "I hope you escape Virginia."

He nodded slightly, running his thumb across your soft cheek one more time. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm going to miss you."

And then you kissed him again, as if you understood exactly what he meant. And then you were gone.

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Bradley thought about you a lot. Sometimes he let your name grace his tongue with the sweet feel of it. Sometimes he would daydream about your laugh. But the moment he opened his mail in late August and read the line detailing the location of his new station, a slew of obscenities flew out of his mouth.

San Diego. He was going to be stationed in San Diego.

And he had no idea how to reach you. He only knew your first name. But he spent his first few months there hopeful that he would run into you somewhere. So he visited different grocery stores. He took different running tails. He went to the mall across town once. And each time he did one of those things, he felt ridiculous. Stupid. Idiotic. Until he remembered your smile and the way you made him feel so good while also poking fun at him.

As the months wore on, he went on dates and kissed other girls, but he still thought about you sometimes. When he listened to Jerry Lee Lewis, he pictured you singing into your beer bottle. When he drank a cheap beer, he could almost hear your laugh.

You had told him that you go to that same shitty bar every year on your brother's birthday. But just as Bradley purchased tickets for a roundtrip flight from San Diego to Norfolk, he realized you probably didn't even remember him. What was he going to do? Walk into that bar and tell you he missed you? You'd look at him like he was insane. Or worse, like you had no fucking clue who he was.

He thought about not going. Just letting the tickets go to waste. But at the very least, he would be able to visit his cousins for the night. At the very least, he might just be able to see you again, just for a minute.

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You sat at the bar, across the room from your brother. You didn't know why you still bothered to come home for the weekend every year, but here you were. In Norfolk. Again.

As politely as you could, you turned down the red headed guy who tried to buy you a drink. And you did the same thing to the blond, too. Because now you associated this shithole bar with wavy, sandy brown hair and big, brown puppy eyes. And you weren't about to override your memories from one year ago with some random loser who wanted to buy you a can of Miller Lite.

You hoped Bradley was currently stationed somewhere warm, near a beach. It always made you smile to picture him with his feet in the sand, drinking a beer.

Your head swiveled to the jukebox as soon as you heard the opening piano chords of Great Balls of Fire playing, but there was just an older woman standing there snapping her fingers.

Your heart sank a bit as you settled back into your stool and sipped your beer. It would have been too good to be true, and you were ridiculous for even entertaining the thought. But then that raspy voice was behind you, saying your name and making goosebumps break out all across your skin.

When you turned and met his warm eyes, your mouth fell open. He was here. And he looked so handsome and nervous. And your heart was hammering too hard, making it difficult to talk.

"I don't know if you remember me," he said softly, looking at your face like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. "But-"

"Bradley! How could I forget?" you breathed, and you watched his smile grow. "I was hoping you'd escape Virginia."

He laughed, and you wanted to kiss his mustache again. "I did. And I've been looking for you for ten months."

You leaned in a little closer and grinned. "Well I've been in San Diego."

"Me too," he said, and you tilted your head in question, but he just smiled more. "That's where I've been stationed since September."

"Oh!" you gasped. "You escaped to my city!"

"Mmhmm. And you made me come all the way back to shitty Norfolk, Virginia to find you."

You laughed. "You came back here for me?"

He nodded and stroked his fingers across your cheek just the way you remembered. "Yes. All I could think about was the way you told me you come here every year on this day. So I've been waiting months for the chance to try to see you again."

"That's really romantic," you told him, letting your palm come to rest on his chest.

He covered it with his as he said, "My full name is Bradley Bradshaw. I live in Coronado, California on Pomona Avenue. And if you're single, I'm not leaving here without your phone number."

You were clamoring off your stool before he even finished talking, and he welcomed you into his arms. And then you kissed him, just like you had a year ago, his body warm and perfect against yours. You told him your full name between kisses, running your fingers through his hair and melting into him. "And yes, you can have my phone number, Bradley Bradshaw."

He sighed against your cheek. "Even though I've been pining for you from afar?"

You laughed, remembering what you'd told him last year. "Apparently you've been pining for me from nearby. And that just won't do. Because I've thought about you... about the guy with the cute mustache who acted like he owns Jerry Lee Lewis's music catalog. About the only guy I ever kissed in the middle of a dive bar before I even knew his name," you whispered.

And then Bradley was kissing you again before he ended up sitting on the bar stool with you perched on his leg. He gave you his phone so you could save your number for him, and you sat like that until last call, just talking and laughing and occasionally kissing with the promise of more to come.

When you got back to your parents' house with your brother, your phone illuminated with a new text message.

Bradley Bradshaw: Meet me in San Diego.

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They were both pining from afar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

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