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norabrice1701 · 5 months

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Twist My Heart - Ch. 6

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

- A TG:M Twister AU -

Series Main List

Also on AO3

Ch. 6 Warnings: Idiots in love; domestic fluff

A/N: Thank you all for reading this fic!! ❤️

3 years later

“You’re going the wrong way,” Jake says, setting his beer down. “Here, give me that.”

He plucks the remote control from Bradley’s hand, and Bradley doesn’t fight him. Despite scrolling through the list of hundreds of channels in the ‘Live TV’ guide, he still hasn’t found the channel they’re looking for. They’ve only had this TV installed for a week now, and Bradley still doesn’t have an intuitive feel for the built-in channel guide. And to compound his ineptitude, there isn’t even a search feature for him to enter ‘NBC Kentucky Derby’.

Jake finds the channel with ease, and the sights and sounds of Churchill Downs fill the screened-in porch. Bradley leans forward on the outdoor couch, dragging a tortilla chip through the accompanying queso fundido. Well, maybe calling it that is too generous – it’s just melted Velveeta and breakfast sausage – but neither of them boast gourmet kitchen prowess. Perhaps it’s something they can work on, but between Jake’s mastery of the grill and Bradley’s skill with a saute pan, they haven’t managed to starve yet.

Or burn down the kitchen. Or the rest of their house.

Because that fact still… god.

He co-owns a house with Jake.

Together.

A house that they intend to turn into their home.

They’re making good progress, especially after spending today in the yard. The landscaping had needed lots of love - still does - but after pulling tons of weeds, raking up all the dead shit in the flowerbeds, and mowing the lawn, they have earned the right to a lazy night on the couch.

Bradley shifts against the all-weather cushion as he takes a swig of beer. He drapes an arm along the back of the couch, gazing up at the wall-mounted TV as Jake leans forward, munching a queso-slathered chip.

Jake snags another chip before reaching for his beer. “Who’s your money on for the race?”

Bradley doesn’t bother to hide his indifference. “I have no idea. I don’t even know who all’s in the field.”

“Forte scratched this morning.” Jake supplies, licking a stray drop of beer foam from his top lip. “Tapit Trice is expected to perform well, along with Two Phils.”

He arches a brow in disbelief even as his mouth quirks with amusement. “Didn’t know you played the ponies.”

Jake doesn’t quite roll his eyes. “That phrase only applies if you put down money, Roo - and luckily for you, I don’t.”

And Bradley does know that’s true. He’s learned much about Jake’s inner-workings and bad habits - and gambling doesn’t make the list. He continues to relax against the couch, taking in Jake’s profile set against the colors of sunset. Tall white clouds hang in the eastern sky, reflecting the brilliant colors back at them - and Bradley’s struck with another moment of incredulity.

This handsome man is now his husband. The white gold band on Jake’s finger gleams against the beer koozie, matching the ring that adorns Bradley’s finger. Honesty, the metal band still feels a little foreign but each time he takes it off, he feels lost without it.

“Then, I’ll go for Two Phils.” Bradley eventually says, tapping his wedding ring against the neck of the better bottle with a clink. “Always go for the funny name, right?”

“In that case, you’d want Raise Cain or Cyclone Mischief.” Jake’s mouth curls with a smile against the rim of his beer bottle. “Though, neither one of them has great odds.”

Bradley reaches for another chip, sweeping it through the queso. “Trying to impress me, hmm?”

Jake’s laugh warms his chest. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”

Bradley wipes a smudge of queso from his mustache. “Don’t think just because we’re already married doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.” He returns his arm to the back of the couch, fingers bushing against the strong line of Jake’s shoulders. “You got to keep proving that I made the right choice, right?”

Jake’s eyes blaze with playful indignation. “Careful now, sweetheart - gotta keep proving that we made the right choice. I coulda said no, you know.”

He squeezes Jake’s shoulder gently, heart fluttering as Jake leans into him. “I know you coulda. And that would have broken my heart.”

Jake settles against his side and a wave of contentment washes over Bradley. A gentle breeze blows through the screened-in porch as they relax in their little backyard, and Bradley feels his face split wide with a stupid grin. He’s glad that Jake can’t see it and tease him for it. Ducking his head, he brushes a kiss to whatever part of Jake he can reach before taking another sip of his beer and returning his attention to the TV screen.

The horses parade out of the stables and onto the track. Announcers recap the top contenders, identifying the contestants as they make their way towards the starting gate. Bradley doesn’t consider himself overly fond of horse racing, but there’s something fun about watching the fastest two minutes in all of the sports’ world.

“Well, if you knew anything about horse racing,” Jake rumbles softly. “You’d know that you’re supposed to pick three horses - one each for win, place, and show.”

“That’s why I have you,” Bradley counters. “If we ever go to Churchill Downs, you can place the bets.”

“Is that on your bucket list?” Jake asks, words deforming against the beer bottle lip.

Bradley’s brows furrow. “I don’t know… guess I haven’t thought about it, really.” Maybe it’s because of how his dad died, but the idea of a bucket list doesn’t sit well with him. While he doesn’t deny the power of having dreams and goals, he also learned at a young age to just be grateful for everything life has given him and consider everything else as icing on the cake. He wets his top lip, sighing gently. “How about you?”

“Only if you wear one of those big, gaudy hats.” Jake nods towards the screen as the camera zooms in on a woman in an oversized bright yellow, red, and white hat.

Bradley grimaces. “No chance in hell, man.”

“Maybe if you lose a bet?” Jake prods, mischief in his eyes and smile. “Or if Tapit Trice wins?”

A chuckle works up Bradley’s throat, fading as the TV screen jumps to a split-screen showing the local news station studio.

“Good evening, we apologize for interrupting the Kentucky Derby, but we have a severe weather situation brewing in Nowata County to bring you up to speed on.”

A Doppler radar now dominates half the screen as Jake and Bradley both stare with rapt interest. Severe thunderstorm warnings and tornado watch banners light up the top and bottom of the shot as the strong supercell, in shades of angry red and orange, bears down on the noted towns.

“Now, this powerful storm is currently located just two miles east of Delaware, Oklahoma - and already we have reports of golf ball sized hail ranging up to baseball sized hail. This is not a storm to mess around with, folks, especially with the strong winds and lightning. Tornado watches are in effect for all of Nowata County, but as you can see…”

Jake lets out a low whistle. “Just look at that,” he muses, nodding towards the TV. “That’s the perfect formation for a hook echo.”

Bradley nods as his throat goes dry. “Yeah… especially with those wind speeds. And just look at that outflow boundary.”

As if summoned by their words, big bold letters declaring a tornado warning flash across their screen.

“Alright, now we have a tornado warning in effect - I repeat, tornado warning in effect - for Nowata County. Seek shelter in a basement or storm cellar or interior room of your house…”

The on-screen radar image updates, and the text-book perfect hook echo formation appears on screen. A tracking cone emanates from it as the meteorologist continues to outline the storm’s projected path, taking it nowhere near their home. Despite the contentment with Jake at his side, the desire to hop in the SUV and chase it down still nags at him. Perhaps it always will - and if it weren’t their weekend off, perhaps they would already be on the scene.

“You ever considered a job in television?” Jake asks, clinking his own ring against the glass bottle neck. “It’d give us all something much better to look at.”

Bradley resists another eye-roll. “And miss the chance to be out in the field with the rain on my face and the wind in my hair?” He glances over at Jake. “Not a chance in hell.”

Something proud sparks in Jake’s gaze, laced with innate understanding. Slowly, he drags his gaze back to the TV nodding up at the screen. “Almost makes me want to be out there, you know? I’m sure they’re getting some good action.”

Bradley nods gently, letting himself settle more visibly against the couch. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says, coaxing Jake back with him. “But there’ll always be another storm, right? Besides,” he flashes his husband a teasing, alluring grin. “I can definitely promise you much better action in our bedroom later tonight.”

Jake’s eyes wrinkle with laughter as he shakes his head. “Better? Hmm, debatable. Infinitely more satisfying?” He leans in for a quick kiss. “Every time, darlin’.”

Fin

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Tag List: @redfurrycat

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x jake seresin #hangster #hangman x rooster #top gun maverick #top gun maverick au #top gun fanfiction #twister au #twister 1996 #glen powell #miles teller

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