Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Seresin emblem hung high over the entrance to the long driveway, leading up to a sprawling mansion surrounded by acres of grassy fields with honest-to-god longhorns roaming various sections. White vans lined the circle drive near the house as caterers, florists, and someone who Bradley was pretty sure was a world-renowned interior decorator hustled in and out. It wasn’t unusual for the manor to be a flurry of activity, but it seemed busier than normal. Maybe they’d decided on more renovations.

“Thanks again for the ride, Eileen.” Bradley slammed the Range Rover door shut and shouldered his bag. He’d expected one of the staff to be waiting at the Arrivals Gate, not Eileen Seresin herself, but the ride had been nice. Easy. The conversation had been amusing between her stories of Austin housewives gone wild, the drama their friends’ children were up to, and her questions about how he’d been (good, busy, the Combine went well, yes, he was excited, thanks again for letting him crash their house).

He’d always liked Eileen, from the very first moment he’d met her. She wasn’t what he’d expected. None of it was.

Making the Seresins like him had been nothing more than a fun goal at first, but somewhere along the line, the easy, joking want had shifted to genuine desire…probably around the same time he’d desperately wanted- needed- Jake to view him as a perfect boyfriend, for real….that his aim had shifted from earning an eye roll to earning the crinkles around those eyes.

Somehow, he had. And here he was, almost a year later, getting picked up by Eileen Seresin at the Austin Airport like that was normal.

“Happy to, dear.” Eileen fluttered her perfectly manicured hand through the stifling Texas heat. “We have reservations at Ronaldo’s for dinner at six. You brought a suit, yes? If not, I’ll call Larry over. He’s a great tailor, I promise.”

Bradley patted the suit bag in his hand. “Taken care of, ma’am.”

“Silly me, of course. Which reminds me, that producer from the MLB Network called today and said the camera crew will be here at 4 pm sharp tomorrow.”

“Can I do anything to help? I could cook?”

She waved him off again, that bright Seresin grin ever-present. “Oh no, we have it handled. You just focus that pretty little head on enjoying your big day. Now run on in and get yourself settled; Jacob should be back from his session shortly.”

A woman in all-black with her hair pinned in a perfect bun walked past with a large frame in hand. Eileen flagged her down. “Lucy, let me show you where I want that-” She fluttered off in a cloud of perfume and orders in a sweet southern drawl.

Bradley bit his lip as he headed through the massive set of double doors. He wasn’t sure he’d ever fully get used to the Seresin lifestyle and all it entailed, but it was less intimidating than it once had been. He didn’t get lost anymore, at least. He knew which hallways led to which wings, how to work the in-home theatre system, and what black tie vs cocktail attire meant. Dinner at Ronaldo’s wasn’t surprising, but the least he could do was sit through a stuffy evening with their friends when he was stealing their living room for the Draft the next afternoon.

He stared at the vaulted ceilings and fancy leather couches. It was a hell of a place for Jake to grow up in. And it was a hell of a place for Bradley to get drafted.

One of the florists walked by and nodded in greeting with a quiet, “Sir.”

Bradley smiled politely in return.

He hadn’t known Jake before the house party that fateful fall of junior year, but it had only taken that one night to never look away again. It had frustrated the hell out of him. He’d spent the better part of that year trying to imagine the kind of life that produced a man like Jake Seresin- never checking where he stepped, only running full-speed ahead, confident and unapologetic in every move. He walked into a room, and the air bent to his will, finally finding its purpose. And still, Jake had always seemed disappointed by it, like he found it lacking.

Found him lacking.

Bradley had promised himself he’d prove him wrong if it were the last damn thing he did.

When he pictured Jake’s world, it was always with a rose-colored palette of parties, chandeliers, and opulence, the kind of easy life that a name that meant something to other people afforded. He’d pictured marble- cold and uncaring. Mansions that allowed an attitude to grow big enough to fill them.

And then he’d gone to Rhode Island, and the marble life had chipped away to flesh and blood and a beating heart. And he’d only wanted to offer his own oxygen to it, too.

But it was Christmas that had really made him look at Seresin Manor in a new light. With the staff sent home, filled only by a brood of Seresins in matching pajamas, mugs of coffee in hand as they argued over movies to watch that day, it had settled right in his bones. It was a home like any other. A massive, multi-million dollar family estate, but a home, nonetheless. One that he now had an exclusive invitation to. One where people did shit like called him ‘sir’ and asked if he needed anything because he was one of them, now.

Because he was dating Jake Seresin, for real.

He knew he’d never get used to that part. It still made his heart flutter when he tested the words on his lips. My boyfriend, Jake. It never felt like enough, but the love of my goddamn life and my favorite person-slash-menace on planet Earth didn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

His stomach twisted with heat as he tested the other words, the ones he hadn’t been able to stop imagining lately. My fiancé, Jake. He gave a half thought to the ring tucked away in his bag. He hoped it would be enough.

“Bradley!” James had been the Seresins’ chef for over twenty years. Eileen planned a massive birthday party for him at the house every year. Jake babysat his daughter. He was part of the family, in a permanent kind of way.

Bradley high-fived him. “Hey, man.”

“Big day tomorrow, you excited?”

“Ask me after.”

James chuckled, crossing his arms. “I put my money on the Rays. First round, second pick.”

“Please tell me there isn’t a betting pool?”

“Oh yeah.” James patted his shoulder. “So don’t let me down.”

“Thanks for that,” Bradley grumbled.

James’s salt and pepper beard moved with his bright grin. “You have nothing to worry about, but if it makes you feel better, your boy sweet-talked me into making your favorite.”

Bradley instantly perked up. “Lavender lemon cookies?”

“Mhmm. Don’t tell him I was always going to do it. It’s good to make him work for it a bit.”

Bradley snorted as he pictured it. “He’s like a dog with a bone when he wants to be.”

“God help whoever stands in his way,” James agreed. “I’m just glad he has somewhere good to focus that energy now.”

Bradley’s cheeks heated in time with the warmth in his chest. “He makes me good.”

James’ lips twitched. “And that is why you get cookies.”

Several more people walked through the entryway, carrying a massive balloon arch in Vanderbilt black and gold. Bradley stepped out of their way.

“…Is this all for tomorrow?”

“Just wait until you see the cardboard cut-outs.”

Bradley’s brows raised. “The what?”

“Matching jerseys, too. Eileen’s really gone all-in on the baseball ambiance.” James did air quotations. “I’ve been prepping homemade cotton candy and roasted peanuts all week. Think she’s gone to one too many games.”

Bradley blinked several times, not sure what to do with the way it made him feel. It was too much. His knee-jerk reaction had been no when the MLB Network reached out about selecting him for a camera crew that year- he’d always loved the big party celebration videos during the draft, but he couldn’t imagine watching him sit on a couch with a few friends would be all that entertaining- but then the Seresins had been kind enough to offer their house, and the thought of Jake’s ass on the couch beside him and a weekend filled with the sound of southern drawls in the manor instead of quiet halls in their Nashville place was enough to agree.

And now they felt like they had to do all this, just for a handful of people to watch TV and hope Bradley didn’t disappoint them.

“Not just Eileen, either.” James leaned in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, Henry ordered his special occasion cigars.”

“That’s…” He couldn’t form the words, heart twisting funny in his chest.

James smiled knowingly. “Enjoy, kid. You only get drafted once. Save me an autograph, yeah?” James patted his shoulder and returned to the kitchen with a whistle on his lips.

Bradley gave the bustling room one last look and made a mental note to figure out a ‘thank you/I’m sorry for all this’ gift that would feel even close to sufficient, then picked up his bag and headed upstairs.

He knew better than to try for one of the endless guest rooms, instead going straight for Jake’s bedroom, tucked away in the corner of the second floor, overlooking the barn in the back fields.

Unlike Bradley’s teenage bedroom, there were no posters of sports players or rock bands, no messes piled on a corner chair, no collage of photos tacked to a corkboard, only tasteful furniture and a tennis racket carefully hanging on the wall near shelves of gleaming trophies for ITA National Player of the Year, Junior US Open Men’s Single Champion, Australian Open Men’s Single Champion, 2023 NCAA Champions. Framed photos sat on the dresser- one of his tennis pals from Vanderbilt, one of Javy and Jake with pool sticks in hand, and a nice family portrait.

It was Bradley’s favorite room in the house.

Bradley carefully hung his suit bag in the closet before collapsing on the bed with a sigh. The flight hadn’t been long, but he was used to making it with Jake. God, he missed him.

Rolling over, the framed photos on the nightstand caught his eye. Both were new additions, replacing the previous pictures of Jake winning his first Grand Slam.

Bradley smiled at his Vandy senior baseball portrait- he hated it, but Jake had negotiated a copy through a very convincing kiss- before running his fingers over the second frame. It was of Jake, spinning Bradley with a massive grin on the field after Bradley won the College World Series again. Hardly a month ago, but then it had been the Combine, team interviews, and daily training sessions with the personal trainer his agent had brought in. It felt like a year had passed.

In that time, Jake had gone back to Texas to train at the club facilities, some of the best in the nation. He was making a go for the 2024 Paris Olympics, and that meant daily, grueling sessions with the top private coach in the country, Beau Simpson, in between traveling for tournaments. Simpson had accepted only two players- Jake and another Olympic-likely, Daniel Otterman. Bradley was so damn proud.

He was also a little tired of hearing about Daniel fucking Otterman, but that was…fine.

Nat had clocked it immediately when she’d visited on a rare recent weekend that Bradley had been home. He was still getting used to Jake’s Nashville home being theirs, which was even harder to do when they were rarely there at the same time. Draped over the living room furniture with a trashy reality show on low volume and a beer bottle in hand, Bradley had mourned the existence of tall, handsome, rich tennis gods with last names that meant something.

Nat raised a brow. “You’re literally dating one.”

“That’s different. Otterfuck’s dad is a US Senator, Nat. A freaking Senator.”

“Green’s not a good color on you, Bradshaw.”

Blinking out of the memory, Bradley checked his phone again and found nothing new waiting for him in the thread.

Bradley- Boarding in a few

Honey :) - I talked Simpson into letting me go early tonight, should be home around 5

Bradley- thought he was, quote, an evil dictator hellbent on your suffering?

Honey :) - He loves me…deep down

Bradley- relatable

Honey :) - Rude

Bradley- <3
Bradley- what are you doing?

Honey :) - lunch break with Daniel
Honey :) - Gotta go, have a safe flight
Honey :) - can’t wait to board something other than a plane later ;)

And finally-

Bradley- landed :)

Which had only been met with a thumbs up.

Bradley sighed, dropped his phone on the nightstand, and curled up. A nap sounded nice, especially with how poorly he’d been sleeping the past few weeks. Tucked away in the soft, rich sheets that smelled of familiar vanilla and subtle cologne, the world and all its worries drifted away.

———

The bed was warm and ridiculously soft. Jake grinned at him from the white sheets, as golden as the sunlight streaming through the massive windows. He reached out, and-

Something slammed into Bradley’s face. He startled awake, and sweet, dream-faced Jake shifted to smirking, asshole Jake. A pillow lay on Bradley’s chest; he was pretty certain his facial imprint stared back at him from it.

“Well, shit, how’d that get there?” Jake drawled with that wicked grin.

He looked….good. His skin carried a healthy glow, brightened further by days spent doing what he loved. He was still in his workout clothes- a loose tank top that showed off toned arms, and athletic shorts over perfect thighs, paired with his favorite sneakers and a backward ball cap. Judging by the color, it was Bradley’s Vanderbilt Varsity Baseball cap that had suspiciously gone missing and that he never fucking wanted back.

He only wanted to lick the sweat off the golden hair on Jake’s chest.

Instead, he asked, “Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?” Jake fluttered his eyelashes like the menace he was.

“When the devil kicked you out of hell.”

The amusement only grew. “And to think, I tell everybody my boyfriend’s a perfect little angel.”

“Well, that’s the thing, honey.” Bradley dragged him in by his hips. “I can take you to heaven.”

“Guess I gotta get to worshiping.”

Bradley settled his hand under his tank top, stroking over the soft skin on his hip. “Damn right.”

“Think you mean hallelujah.”

Bradley snorted and tugged him down with a handful of his shirt. The kiss felt like coming home. Jake smiled into it, kissing him once, twice, three more times before he pulled away.

“Gotta get baptized first.” He winked, stepping back toward the bathroom. “Get the devil’s sweat off me.”

Bradley’s nose scrunched. “Ew, why say it like that?”

“Cuz I knew you’d make that face.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bradley grabbed him before he could retreat further. Jake yelped as he was pulled onto the bed and rolled onto his back, with Bradley hovering over him.

“Bradley.” Jake huffed, but the smile downplayed the disapproval. “These sheets are clean.”

“Funny.” Bradley pushed his tank up, exposing miles of tan, chiseled abs. Fuck, that was his man. He grabbed his peck and squeezed. “Didn’t think this bed knew the meaning of the word pure.”

The look that crawled across his pretty face instantly meant trouble. “Gonna bless me, Father? Cure me of my wicked desires?”

“Fuck.” Bradley tucked his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar smell of Jake. His sweat mixed with vanilla and subtle, rich cologne. He’d thought about buying him a bottle for his birthday, but had quickly put it down with a frown when he’d looked at the price tag. He’d made him a mix tape instead. It never left the cassette player.

All the other extravagant gifts that had poured in didn’t get even close to the same amount of crinkles in the smile. Not that Bradley was counting.

“I missed you,” Bradley murmured.

The hand on his back traveled up. Jake squeezed the nape of his neck and murmured, “Missed you, too.”

Their lips found each other again, as natural as breathing. They kissed lazily, reacquainting themselves with each other’s touch and taste. Warm skin, calloused hands, mint gum, the remnants of Gatorade- fruit punch, Jake’s favorite. Slowly, the month apart faded away, lost to a distance that no longer existed.

“I really do have to shower,” Jake murmured between kisses. The words were countered by shoving his hands under the back of Bradley’s shirt, roaming over bare skin. Goosebumps chased his touch.

“Mm, or I could give you a very thorough workout.”

“Save that thought for later. My parents will commit murder if we’re late for dinner.”

“They can afford a good lawyer.” Bradley shoved his knee in between Jake’s legs, kissing him deeper.

“…you’re right.”

Jake kissed him harder, running his hands over any skin he could reach. The touch sent shivers up Bradley’s spine. He debated the consequences of skipping dinner and staying in bed. It felt worth it, especially with the soft sounds spilling from Jake’s lips and the leg that pulled him in closer as Bradley kissed down his neck.

“You always look…fuck…good here,” Jake breathed. “Texas suits you, city boy.”

Bradley pulled away and grinned cheekily down at him. “Does it, now?”

“Mhmm.” Jake nodded, toying with the hair at the nape of his head. “Might just have to keep ya here, Cinderella.”

Bradley leaned into it, eyes fluttering closed, weak as a current to the ocean’s pull when it came to Jake Seresin. “Still not Cinderella.”

“But you’re my princess.”

His cheeks heated, and based on the pleased, knowing look on Jake’s face, they must’ve been as pink as they felt. The little shit loved nothing more than to torture that look from him, and, (un)fortunately for Bradley, he’d become a damn expert at it, like he was at everything he put his mind to.

Bradley traced the annoying smirk on his lips with his thumb. Fuck…he almost hadn’t had this.

“It’s not Texas that looks good on me, you know.”

Jake blinked a few times before a slow, smug grin took over his handsome face. He toyed with the curls at the nape of Bradley’s neck and faux-casually asked, “How much do you love me?”

Bradley raised a brow, not expecting it. He mentally ran through a list, trying to figure out if he’d forgotten something. Jake’s face gave nothing away- never a good sign- so he decided to tread carefully. “Are you ‘if I were a worm’-ing me?”

“If I were?”

“I’d say you already wormed your way into my heart,” Bradley answered, flashing his best lop-sided grin.

Jake snorted. “Good answer, and you’re not in trouble, don’t worry.” He smoothly rolled Bradley onto his back, kissed his nose, and hopped up.

Bradley leaned up on his elbows, watching as Jake took his phone from his pocket and placed it on the nightstand. “Doesn’t feel like I’m not in trouble.”

“I’m askin’ because I need you to go to battle with me tonight.”

“So we’re moving Fort Sumter to a restaurant?” Bradley teased.

Jake stripped his shirt and pushed his shorts down on the way to the bathroom. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see who’s laughing when my parents kill us both for being late. Best if we waive the white flag now.”

“We go to Ronaldo’s every time. Thought they had a permanently reserved table or some shit.”

“Yeah, but they’ve got guests.” Jake shoved his boxers down and stepped out of them. He fiddled with the shower nozzle, not bothering to close the bathroom door.

“I’m hardly a guest.”

“I ain’t talkin’ about you. Buckle up, Bradshaw, you’re the belle of the ball this weekend.” Jake disappeared from view as he stepped into the shower.

Bradley dropped back onto the mattress. He wasn’t sure he could eat with how nervous he was, and he sure as shit wasn’t looking forward to another random CEO giving him the third degree. Whoever they’d invited this week must’ve been important. If the Seresins were one thing, it was relentless about the shit they cared about. He wouldn’t put it past them to have invited the Rangers’ owner with hopes he’d get drafted to Dallas.

Honestly, he respected it. They weren’t afraid to own what they wanted, which he’d first pegged as clear rich people shit, but over time, he’d recognized the love in it. They’d do anything to make sure the people they loved got only the best, that Jake got everything he deserved. Bradley could understand that. But he just wanted Jake to have what he wanted…and as long as that was him, he dared anyone to try and stop him.

Jake’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. Bradley caught a flash of Daniel Otterman. Jesus, the guy was just with Jake an hour ago.

Jake’s voice floated over the running water. “Baby, you joinin’ or what?”

Take that, Otterfuck.

Everything else faded away as Bradley grinned and hopped off the bed. It may have taken him a minute to put two and two together and get ‘holy fuck I want him to touch me always’, but he’d vowed never to waste another second.

——

Thirty minutes later, freshly cleaned and smelling of Jake’s cologne, Bradley buttoned his dress shirt.

Jake was already dressed in a grey three-piece suit, finely fitted and hugging every curve of his body just right. He clasped a watch on his wrist- the one Bradley used to wear every day that had found a new home; Bradley fucking loved watching it live there- and checked the time.

“Five minutes, and we’re out the door.”

Jake grabbed Bradley’s suit jacket and held it open for him to slide into. Jacket on, Bradley turned and looped his arms around his boyfriend’s lower back. The warm muscle was familiar, relaxing the anxiety pounding in his heart. “We haven’t talked about the balloon arch yet.”

“I like the arch.”

“They didn’t have to go all-out.”

Jake squinted; Bradley shifted, feeling exposed. “I thought you liked all those draft day videos with the whole thing?”

“I do. But…you’re sure this is okay?”

“You didn’t ask, they offered. Honestly, I think they’re more excited about it than you are.”

“I’m sure they are. They’re not the ones shitting bricks.” Bradley tucked his face into the crook of Jake’s neck. The soothing, familiar scent made the words come out before he could stop them, quiet and honest. “What if I don’t get drafted?”

It was a worry he’d attacked the way he did everything, with singular, only-god-can-try-to-stop-me focus. Stupid, really. He had a backup plan for this reason. But…that was before Jake. He left the rest of the true fear unsaid, refusing to give it oxygen.

Jake ran a soothing hand up and down his back. “Ain’t happening.”

“Easy for you to say,” Bradley grumbled.

Jake moved his head back, cupping his cheeks to look into his eyes. “You got yourself here. Home stretch, darlin’.”

Bradley sighed and nodded. Jake was right. Bradley was finally at the eve of the day he’d always imagined, but unlike his million dreamed-up variations over the years, he wasn’t alone. He’d already won.

The serious fire in Jake’s eyes burned away, replaced by trouble that stirred Bradley’s insides. “Besides, you’ve got nothing to worry that pretty little head over. Anything happens, you’ve got a hot-ass sugar daddy.”

Bradley snorted, and the remaining tension fell away. “I’m not calling you daddy.”

“Aww.” Jake’s eyes sparked wickedly as he ran his hands up and down Bradley’s sides. “But I’d treat you so sweet, baby.”

“You’re a little shit.”

“Correction, I’m your little shit. Signed, sealed, delivered. No return policy.”

The words sparked his heart back to life. “Funny, don’t remember signing a contract.”

“How do you think I got out of hell?”

“I imagine it looked a lot like Stitch crash landing on Earth.”

“And they say romance is dead.”

“They,” Bradley enunciated, tugging Jake in by his lower back. “Haven’t met me.”

Jake’s lips twitched. “No, they haven’t.”

Bradley shook his head, matching the grin. “No…they haven’t.”

He leaned in and kissed him once, soft and sweet. His boyfriend melted into it, losing all that bravado he carried like it was coded into his DNA. Bradley loved his bravado, loved when he was a loud-mouthed asshole, loved when he dropped a challenge with every expectation for it to be met, loved when he was soft and sweet like this.

He loved him.

It was the surprisingly simple conclusion that it had taken him a sleepless night in a hotel and a morning staring at the ocean on a random beach in Rhode Island to come to.

It wasn’t easy- them, love, building the real fucking deal because he knew in every fiber of his body this was it- but it was simple.

“Boys!” Mr. Seresin called up the stairs. “The driver’s ready to go. Two minutes!”

Jake kissed him one more time before moving away. He smoothly slid the tie hanging over Bradley’s shoulders off, then pulled out a small drawer and danced his fingers over an array of ties, selecting a navy blue one. He looped it around Bradley’s neck, fingers moving with easy precision.

It was hard not to feel claimed in moments like this. The way Jake looked at him…like he wanted him with the same burning desire that lived in Bradley’s chest. Just like this. In a closet, getting ready. In a battlefield disguised as a dinner. In every day, everything.

“Something wrong with my tie?” Bradley breathed.

“Like you in mine.” Jake tightened it and smoothed his fingers down the silk. He drawled, “Very handsome.”

Bradley’s cheeks heated. Jake opened a mahogany chest on his dresser and grabbed a pair of cufflinks. He slid them into Bradley’s sleeves and clasped them.

“I feel like a Barbie.”

“Mm.” Jake smirked. “Guess I’m just Ken, then.”

“You’re not just anything,” Bradley countered before eyeing him, lips twitching. “But you do have the look.”

Jake finished with the cufflinks and swiped his thumb over them. Bradley analyzed the metal pieces. They were well-polished with impeccable craftsmanship. Tiny initials, JS, were carved into them. The corner of his lips curled. “Marking your territory?”

“Letting me?” Jake countered.

Yes. Please fucking yes. Bradley said, “I like ‘em.”

“They’re yours, then.”

He hoped it meant what he thought it did- I’m yours.

“Now, come on, Barbie.” Jake swatted Bradley’s ass with a wink. “Let’s go party.”

He sauntered from the room with a whistle on his lips. Bradley had no choice but to grin and follow.

————————

“So, Mr. Bradshaw.” Robert-the-fancy-CEO-or-something dabbed his lips with the napkin. “Why didn’t you go pro right out of high school? Why wait?”

Bradley set his knife and fork down to give him his attention. He knew how to do this- work a crowd. “I got a full ride to Vanderbilt. The MLB’s a great opportunity, but I thought it was important to have a fall-back.”

“What did you study?” Robert’s wife, Nancy, asked.

“Engineering.”

“Respectable.” Robert nodded, returning to his steak.

Bradley gave him his best smile, the fake edge only obvious to the trained eye. The dinner was with the Seresins’ closest friends, at least, so he knew most of them. And despite the interrogation, they seemed genuinely excited about the weekend’s events.

Jake squeezed his hand under the table before returning to cutting his steak. Bradley decided he would gladly sit through a million more meals in uncomfortable suits for that alone.

Mr. Seresin- not quite Henry in his mind, though the invitation had been extended- took a sip of his wine. “Not many young men would see that through, but it’s important. As unpredictable as athletics are, no one can take your education away. Plus, it’ll help with the business, one day.”

“Dad,” Jake warned.

“Eventually.” Mr. Seresin rolled his eyes, though there was an air of good nature to it.

“No rush, dear,” Eileen added, placing a delicate hand over her son’s with a soft pat.

“So, what does an MLB contract look like?” Rick, a thankfully familiar face, asked.

“The first few years are pre-arbitration. My agent is hopeful we can negotiate a good signing bonus. I’ll likely be sent to the farm system for a bit. Rookie, maybe Double or Triple-A, we’ll see.” Bradley pushed at his smaller unused spoon on the table, still not sure why he needed two of them, but Jake hadn’t used it, so he hadn’t either. “After that, a good player can get a hell of a deal, even better than the NFL.”

“Endorsements will help in the early years,” Mr. Seresin said.

“Dad,” Jake groaned again.

Mr. Seresin raised his hands. “God forbid I try to help.”

“So, Jacob.” Another man leaned forward. Bradley was fairly certain it was Mr. Richardson, Drew’s father. “How are the sessions with Coach Simpson coming along?”

“Good.” Jake nodded. “He’s signed Daniel and me on for a year.”

“And then off to Paris,” Bradley said.

Jake glanced sideways at him with a tiny, private smile.

“Olympics, quite the goal,” Mr. Richardson retorted.

“He’s got it.” Bradley met the man’s eye. “He’s the best there is.”

“You’re a tennis expert now, too?”

Eileen leaned forward. Despite the good-natured smile on her face, there was a dangerous twinkle in her eyes. “You know Seresins don’t half-ass anything.”

Mr. Seresin swallowed his steak and added, “It’s funny. I think I’ve seen Bradley at more matches than Drew this year.”

The easy inclusion made Bradley’s stomach do something funny again, but the way it shut Mr. Richards right up made him bite back a laugh.

Rick stepped in before it could escalate. “So, where do you think you’ll be drafted, Bradley?”

“Could be anywhere.” Bradley shrugged.

“The Rays, Royals, Phillies, and Mets all need a first baseman and a good hitter,” Jake supplied, giving Bradley his turn to glance over with a tiny smile.

“That’ll be hard, right?” Nancy asked. “With Jake in Austin, unless you get drafted to the Rangers.”

“Well, now, Nancy,” Jake drawled with that signature smirk, putting on a show. “Haven’t you heard? Love conquers all.”

Nancy laughed and raised her wine glass. “That it does.”

The conversation moved on, but Bradley only half-followed it, still stuck on Nancy’s question. He was glad Jake had answered because he couldn’t have come up with a believable response. It was the reality they’d always known was coming. They talked around it, little jokes about packing and “I swear to God, Bradshaw, if you end up in Minnesota, you know I hate the snow,” but never about it.

Hell, he’d only moved into Jake’s- their, he corrected- house because his scholarship was ending, and he’d needed a place to stay until the draft pointed his next direction. Jake had said it made sense, and he’d accepted the key to everything he wanted like quicksand through his fingers.

It was what they’d agreed from the very beginning, sitting on a beach in Rhode Island, talking around an imaginary future that he’d wanted so damn bad. To take it slow and easy, no pressure, no 2.5-year plan. Which was…fine.

Except Bradley really fucking wanted to talk about it.

He watched Jake laugh at something Rick said, dimples forming deep and pretty in his cheeks, and once again kept his mouth shut.

The door to the private room opened- because the Seresins had booked an entire room this time, apparently bored with just a table- and a mob of people filed in all at once.

“Ah!” Mr. Seresin clapped his hands. “The rest of our guests, come in, come in.”

“Sorry, we’re late.” Bradley had to do a double-take when he realized it was his Vanderbilt coach grinning at him. Behind him stood several of his favorite teammates. “Flight was delayed.”

“You’re just in time. Have a seat. There’s an open bar, order whatever.”

The team cheered and descended on the bar like a pack of wild animals, patting him on the shoulder and fist-bumping in greeting as they went. He stared like a deer in the headlights.

“Really movin’ up in the world, Bradshaw.”

“Look at you, tie and everything. Cute.”

“Hey Jake, you got any single siblings?”

“Shut up, Fanboy.”

The shock faded to a near heart attack at the comments before he realized the Seresins’ faces were painted in amusement. And then it sank in, and the flutter in his chest turned to a confusing whirlpool. He turned to Jake, but the words were choked in his throat.

The corner of Jake’s mouth curved as he squeezed his knee. “Sorry, they went a little crazy with the invitations,” he said under the noise.

The room filled quickly- almost his whole team was there, plus some of his high school teammates, coaches, cheerleaders, and people he vaguely recognized as their friends and dalliances.

“Jake…” Bradley could only say, not sure where to begin.

“What? No lovey grin for your best friend?” Nat stood in the doorway, hair draped over her shoulder, in a satin, strappy dress. Javy stood loyally by her side, dressed in a suit Bradley was sure Nat was responsible for.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Jake leaned back in his seat, obnoxiously manspreading in the way Nat hated. “Must’ve been kicking and screaming, too. There’s a bathroom if you want to freshen up.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Bite me, Seresin.”

“Don’t think Javy would approve.”

“Javy definitely wouldn’t,” Javy interjected.

“Grey’s not your color,” Nat said.

Jake smirked. “Good thing this’ll be coming off soon eno-”

Bradley’s brain kicked back into gear. He shoved his hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence and directed a pointed gaze at the table, including his parents.

The little shit licked his hand.

Bradley tore it away with a disgruntled noise and grabbed his napkin.

“He licked your hand, didn’t he?” Nat deadpanned.

“Jacob,” Eileen’s laugh ruined any attempt at a scold.

“Hi, everyone.” Javy waved, thankfully redirecting the conversation. Honestly, Bradley loved Jake with his entire beating heart, but at that moment, he had no clue how his boyfriend managed to snag a best friend who was such an angel. “Eileen, Henry, looking dapper as always.”

“Javy, we’ve missed you,” Eileen said.

“I’ll come visit when these two aren’t here.” He nodded to Jake and Bradley. “The walls are too thin.”

Nevermind. Bradley understood it.

Javy continued, gesturing between Nat and Jake. “And don’t be fooled, these two secretly love each other. They’re just struggling with joint custody over Bradshaw and me.”

Nat and Jake both protested at the same time.

Javy ignored them, looking around. “Where’s Joey?”

“She’ll be here tomorrow.” Jake tossed a wadded napkin at him. And shit…even Joey was coming? “And you’re not getting a burger, so don’t even ask.”

“Ugh, come on. I’m still banned?”

“Yep.”

“It’s been a year.”

“Just for that, I’m adding another year.”

Javy groaned. “I helped you! Without me, you and Bradshaw never would’ve-” Jake gave him a look that could’ve cut glass, and Javy swerved, “agreed to meet the parents so soon.”

“Smooth,” Nat snorted.

Bradley was certain Jake might commit murder. He could feel a table of amused, curious glances on them, so he tossed an arm around Jake’s shoulders and slid his best charming grin on. The best lies were always sold in truth- it was why they’d succeeded in Rhode Island. It was easy to fall back into. “It’s true. Javy encouraged me to go after what I wanted.”

A chorus of awws followed. Jake looked toward him, and Bradley subtly winked. His boyfriend’s face turned from murderous to fond.

“And somehow you found Jake in the process,” Nat said.

Jake leaned into Bradley’s embrace and crossed his arms, brows raising. “Hey, Nat, remember when you guys first started going out, and you kept getting all those weird newsletters from Fish in the Sea and Farmers Only?”

Bradley snorted, quickly biting it back when Nat glared at him.

“You didn’t.”

“[email protected] had great taste.”

Nat’s eyes narrowed. “Remember that rumor that started junior year? That you dye your hair?”

Jake sat up straighter. “No.”

She smiled. “Yes.” After a moment, she relaxed and said lightly, “Congrats on the national ranking, by the way.”

“Thanks. Congrats on the NASA gig.”

“…what’s happening?” Nancy whispered.

“It’s best not to question it,” Javy supplied.

Nat took the seat beside Jake, and they launched into a conversation about the upcoming football season, of all things. Javy went over to greet Eileen and Henry fully. Bradley dropped back in the uncomfortable chair and soaked in the room of familiar faces he never thought he’d see mingling.

Fuck, it was…he didn’t know what it was.

It was everything he ever could have wanted. And for some reason, he needed a drink.

With a caress of Jake’s elbow in a silent I’ll be back, he retreated to the bar and ordered a Paloma, accepting greetings and small talk from several of his teammates.

He sipped his drink and watched Javy curl an arm around Nat’s waist, laughing with her as Jake exaggeratedly hand-waved a point. Between the three of them, they owned nearly every eye in the room. Robert sauntered up, and they parted, allowing him into their circle without hesitation. It was easy to forget how gilded they were, sometimes, never questioning their place in a room, never feeling like a sheep in wolves’ clothing, desperate to prove their bite. It was a damn beautiful thing to witness; he was better for it.

“Hi,” a high voice said beside him. Bradley vaguely recognized her; he flashed a hint of a smile in greeting.

“Jenny, remember?” She supplied.

“Right, yeah. Nice night?”

Her response was lost to Jake’s laugh and the gift of those dimples. Bradley was struck with the same feeling he had been that first night, almost two years prior, nearly dropped to his ass with an overwhelming need to cause the look himself. To earn that spotlight of Jake’s focus. It had gone to shit almost instantly. He’d felt like an idiot about it, not sure why in the hell he cared so damn much what an asshole like Jake Seresin thought about him.

But he’d succeeded, eventually. And now he wanted to keep it, clutching tight to the shifting sand with the desperation of a man who’d been lost at sea.

His parents always said Bradshaws didn’t know how to let go once they’d latched on. He knew too much oxygen could suffocate the flame instead of letting it burn bright, the way it should. But he’d never been more damn serious about something.

The words choked in his throat, wanting to be out. Marry me, move in with me for real, train in Texas and win every Olympics like you were put on this earth to do, and let me have your weekends, your offseasons, your losses.

Let me have you.

He sipped his drink and let it drown the words.

“Shame for the hottest guy around to be off the market,” she said.

Jake glanced his way, his attention catching like a slippery hook, gone as quick as he’d earned it. Bradley could’ve sworn he saw a hint of that old displeasure as Jake turned away and gave his focus to someone else.

“Yeah, well, he is.” Bradley downed his drink and settled the empty glass on the bartop. She didn’t have a chance in hell with Jake, anyway, a fact he just barely kept off his tongue. “Have a nice night.”

He pushed through the crowd, smiling at the shoulder pats from his teammates, and snagged Nat’s arm, dragging her away. They weaved through the masses to the edge, where she aimed a raised brow at him with a cross of her arms.

“Only you could look like someone pissed in your cornflakes at your own party.”

“This is great,” he answered, genuinely.

“But it’s a lot,” she supplied in a knowing tone.

He cut straight to the point. “Should I lock him down this weekend?”

Successfully shocked for the first time he’d ever seen, Nat fishmouthed. “What? You want to propose?” Under her breath, she added, “Of course you do.”

“You think it’s too soon.”

“Your drum, your tempo.” She raised her hands before pinching the bridge of her nose with a deep breath. “Just…maybe wait.”

He frowned, and she leveled him with a hard but understanding look. “It’s okay for this weekend to be all about you,” she said. “They planned all this shit for you, maybe just try to enjoy it.”

“They had to.”

She snorted. “I’m sorry, you think anyone in that family does anything because they have to?”

And…fair point.

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “why waste an opportunity for engagement sex by letting it overlap with draft celebration sex?”

Double fair point. But the look in his eyes, and everything-

“I don’t know, Nat…he’s seemed…weird, lately.”

“Pretty sure that’s his factory setting.”

“I’m serious. Like, last weekend, I called him, and it took him hours to call me back.”

Nat’s stare was as unimpressed as it was the night on the couch talking about Otterfuck, making him want to shift on his feet.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled.

“Let me guess- last Saturday?”

“I- yeah.”

“He was with me. Shopping.”

Bradley paused, blinking a few times. “Since when do you two shop?”

“I’ve technically been his friend longer than you have, you know,” she pointed out, smoothly crossing her arms again. “He asked me to come down. I spent a weekend listening to Jake Seresin debate the perfect shade for party streamers, even though he was practically dead on his feet from practice.”

Bradley’s chest caught. “Party streamers?”

“Since when has that boy ever given a damn about something like that?”

Hope flickered back to life, mixing with a feeling of pure stupidity that burned in his cheeks. “Oh.”

“So maybe if you stop looking like you’re at your funeral instead of your draft celebration, he’ll stop acting weird.”

Before he could respond, familiar warmth snaked around his back as Jake tucked his hand in Bradley’s front pocket, pulling him tight against the line of his heat. “And what are y’all two kids whispering about over here?”

Nat gave him a pointed look; Bradley melted into Jake’s touch, letting it temper the fire to something manageable.

“You don’t have to stake your claim, Seresin, everyone knows he’s taken.”

Several eyes darted their way, drawn to Jake like they always were. They hadn’t even been truly dating last summer, and he’d half-considered carrying his baseball bat around as a warning. Bradley not so subtly placed his hand on the back of Jake’s neck, planting his own flag. It earned him a quick, pleased glance from green eyes.

“I’m just sayin’ hi to my boyfriend,” Jake drawled.

“Play nice,” she challenged.

“I don’t play nice; I play to win.”

“I know,” she sighed, voice a mix of exasperation, respect, and fondness.

With Jake wrapped around him, Bradley was able to relax into the night. He looked over the crowd again, and the odd flutter turned warm and happy. They’d done all this for him…because they wanted to. He nodded to the corner of the room, where Mr. Seresin and Eileen were trapped by his Vanderbilt coach. “Do we need to save them?”

Jake followed his line of sight before chuckling. “Think it’s him you need to save.” He dragged him out by the hand. “Now come on, I wanna show you off.”

Bradley grinned as he followed. He tossed a look over his shoulder at Nat, whose expression was painted with too many levels of I told you so to count. He mouthed ‘thanks.’

He slid the best version of himself on as they sidled up to an eclectic mix of people he knew from high school and the Seresins’ friends. They welcomed him in easily, asking questions about his excitement for the weekend and if he’d make it out for the Summer Bash in Rhode Island- because the Seresins were only going for a few weeks at the end, adjusting their usual summer plans for all this, like it was only natural.

He’d never cared much about being ‘one of them’, but fuck…he wanted to be a Seresin.

——

Later, in the backseat of the SUV with Jake pliant and soft, curled up under Bradley’s arm as he chattered on with his parents, Bradley almost couldn’t breathe with the growing feeling in his chest.

Jake laughed at something his dad said, peering up at him with that gentle grin, eyes alight with mischief and fondness. “Bradley never argues with me. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

They argued over the thermostat settings at least four times a week. They argued about what constituted their first date. They argued over who the best Batman was. They argued over the appropriate amount of laundry detergent for a load. They’d argued when Jake had burnt the hell out of dinner the one time Bradley’s aunt had visited…and then Bradley had teased him about needing his personal chef and laughed as he waved the smoke away, and Jake had rolled his eyes with a string of muttered curses over the blaring fire alarm.

He brushed his knuckles over his side. “Never. Happy partner, happy life, right?”

Mr. Seresin laughed from the row in front of them. “Isn’t that the truth?”

Eileen rolled her eyes but smiled when he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“What a good time for me to remind you I want new family portraits-”

“Again?” Mr. Seresin sighed in the manner of a man who knew the battle was already lost.

“Happy wife, happy life, right, dear?”

“Of course-”

…Bradley wanted it all.

The conversation carried on, but one normally loud opinion remained quiet. Bradley glanced down and found Jake looking up at him with a furrowed, curious look, the one that made Bradley feel like he could read him like a book.

He really fuckin’ hoped Jake wanted it, too.

————————

Jake’s phone buzzed on the dresser for the hundredth time. Jake hung his dress shirt on the rack and walked over to check it. He was always beautiful, but there was something about him stripped down to a white tank and dress pants after an event, hair a little messy, stubble coming in along his jaw, that always made Bradley’s mouth water.

Now that they were finally alone, the burning that had made a home in his gut shifted to a new goal; he couldn’t wait to get his hands on him.

The stupid phone buzzed again.

“Should I be jealous?” Bradley teased….mostly teased, as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Jake laughed at that for some reason. “Daniel tagged me in an Instagram post.” He silenced it, turned the screen off, and tossed it on the table.

Bradley pulled the app open on his phone. Daniel’s account was at the top of his recent searches, though he’d refused to follow him. The most recent post was of Jake, sweaty, golden, and beautiful as he nailed a shot mid-stride. He looked strong, graceful, fuckin’ gorgeous. The comments agreed.

The caption read My partner for the year, I’d call that a hell of a serve

Bradley’s blood boiled. Several comments mentioned confusion over them being an item.

He hit the follow button and typed a comment- lookin’ good baby, glad training is going well- and smiled smugly as he set his phone aside.

“You know he wants to fuck you, right?” Bradley said as he stripped off his shirt.

“A lotta people do,” Jake answered, nonplussed, as he unclasped his watch and settled it in the jewelry box. “Something you’re plenty familiar with.”

Bradley paused with the dress shirt halfway down his arms, brow furrowed. “Why would I be familiar?”

Jake gave him a look like he was the dumbest idiot on the planet. A cute idiot, at least, but still an idiot. He crossed the distance, helped pull the material the rest of the way down, and hung it up.

“You are not going to sit here and pretend you don’t know half our campus, faculty included, wanted to sleep with you.”

“That’s-”

Jake cocked a brow, and Bradley let the different die in his throat. He’d known, he just hadn’t cared. It wasn’t like Jake had ever given a damn, either- he’d always known he had no real competition.

“Still,” he grumbled, absolutely not moping.

Jake snorted. He settled his hands on his hips with a smirk. “You don’t have to worry. See, I’ve got this really pretty boyfriend.”

He instantly perked up. Boyfriend, fuck the word still did things to him. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Jake walked him toward the bed. “Hottest guy around, and I’ve missed him.”

“Sounds like a lucky man.”

A charming, devastating grin curled on his lips. “I am.”

Really, Bradley had never stood a chance against Jake Seresin.

“Missed you, too, sweetheart.”

“Show me how much.” Jake pushed him onto the bed and crawled over him.

Bradley kissed him, shoving his hands down the back of his pants. He squeezed his perfect ass, and murmured into his lips, “God, I missed you.”

“So you said.” Jake’s voice was amused as he leaned up, hovering over him. “You talkin’ to me or my ass, though?”

“Haven’t you heard? I go both ways.”

Technically true. Though, he was pretty damn sure Jake had permanently altered his sex drive to something in the realm of victorian lady swooning over a specific strong hand.

Jake hummed, easily following as Bradley pulled him in to sit on his lap. He unbuttoned his grey dress pants and slid the zipper down. Bradley’s mouth watered as he licked his lips and squeezed Jake’s thighs. The past weeks caught up to him in two seconds flat, his dick doing nothing to hide exactly how into him he was.

Jake leaned down and kissed him hard and deep until Bradley couldn’t breathe past the pounding in his heart to the rhythm of Jake’s name, and then Jake stood and slipped the rest of his clothes off. Bradley stared at his pretty, perfect dick and wanted to touch…to earn those soft, gorgeous noises. Jake tugged at his clothes; Bradley lifted his hips to help, drunk on the heavy desire in the green.

Once they were both finally, blessedly naked, Jake ran his hand over Bradley’s stomach. Goosebumps followed in his wake; Bradley suppressed a shiver as heat soared to his groin.

“Fuck,” Jake breathed with a note of wonder. “You’re already so hard, darlin’. That all for me?”

“Haven’t been able to get off.”

Jake blinked up at him. “At all?”

He slowly shook his head.

Jake’s eyes sparked. He knew that look; it meant trouble…usually for him. And while most nights, he would be very, very onboard with whatever evil Jake wanted to tease him with, he was so hard, he was pretty sure he was going to die if he didn’t get relief soon.

“Please,” Bradley tried, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. Jake shifted slightly, and he knew he had him caught. He tried to reel him in, tracing a finger through the soft, golden hair on his leg. “I need you, sweetheart.”

Jake’s nostrils flared. Jackpot.

But, like the little shit he was, Jake pretended to think about it. He hummed as he lightly dragged a fingernail down the vein on Bradley’s cock, sending perfect heat through his body. Bradley dug his heel into the mattress with a moan.

“Jake,” Bradley grunted. “I need you to sit on my lap like right the fuck now.”

The fucker smirked. “Already am?”

Bradley tugged him down. Jake went easily, far too smug about the whole thing. Bradley dug for the lube in the drawer and got to work opening him up. Normally, he liked to take his time and make it good, sometimes spending the whole night just fingering Jake until he was pink-cheeked and loose, but he kept it methodical and efficient. For all his blustering, Jake was just as hard against him, and he knew neither of them would last long. They never did after time apart.

He barely got 3 fingers in before Jake swatted his hand away. “I’m good.”

His voice was as wrecked as Bradley felt. It was in those moments that he felt just as fucking wanted. Bradley didn’t bother arguing it, just held onto his hips as Jake lined up and sank down. The first press into that tight heat almost made him come right then and there, finally back where he belonged.

He knocked his head against the headboard with a moan and squeezed his hips tighter as Jake settled flush against his lap. They both took a moment to adjust.

It still felt like the first time every time; he had no clue how he’d lived a life without this for so long.

“Ready for a ride, cowboy?” Jake eventually drawled.

“Jake, honey, if you want me to last more than ten seconds, I’m gonna need you to stop talking.”

“Gonna buck me off, baby?” Jake leaned down and whispered into his ear, “Always knew you were bull-headed.”

“Not helping,” Bradley whined.

Jake kissed his cheek, oddly sweet in contrast to what they were doing, and then finally began moving, slow and lazy, matching the exhaustion on his face. It was suddenly so clear in the low lamplight, tucked away with just the two of them.

After a few seconds, Bradley gently stopped him. He sat up and scooted back to lean against the headboard, bending his knees to box Jake in place. Once they were comfortable, they traded soft kisses for a bit, no longer in a hurry. The heat in his core turned molten, still burning, but simmering in contentment.

Jake pulled away and gave him a tiny, playful grin. “Hi, boyfriend.”

“Hi, honey.” Bradley swiped his thumb over the corner of his mouth as happiness took its vicious hold. “Tired from practice?”

Jake nodded. Bradley tucked his head against his neck, holding him close as he petted through his hair. “Can I come watch soon?”

“Yeah, took tomorrow off, though,” he slurred.

Bradley hummed, rubbing at the skin behind his ear. He placed his hand on his hip and offered, “Let me?”

Another nod was the answer, and he knew the exhaustion was worse than he’d previously assumed. He guided Jake’s hips into his slow thrusts, heart burning at the easy trust. It was a side few got to see. The first time he’d been trusted with it, he’d promised himself he’d do absolutely anything to keep it.

“Missed this,” Jake murmured.

Bradley couldn’t find the words to explain how he felt about it, so he kissed him and hoped it said enough.

He’d always liked sex- the playful push and pull, the dance between two souls for a night before parting ways- but he’d been surprised how much he liked it like this…lazy, playful, and slow…domestic. The kind of sex that came from knowing a person to their core, from a shared bed in a shared house with a shared calendar.

It was exactly what he needed for the last of the weird month to fade away.

They exchanged tiny mutters of praise between kisses, occasionally grinning into it. After a while, Bradley pushed his hips faster up into him, driving little gasps and breaths from Jake’s lips.

Jake dropped his grin into his neck, going pliant. “Take it away, cowboy.”

Bradley laughed and kissed him, doing just that. He rocked up into his boyfriend’s loose body and breathed against his ear, “Always want to touch you.”

“Might let you.”

“That a promise?”

“A vow.”

Bradley cursed under his breath as he squeezed his eyes shut, tucking Jake in close. It only took one, two, three more thrusts paired with featherlight kisses to Jake’s face before Bradley stilled. It wasn’t a blinding orgasm, but it was long like his body wanted to milk everything it could get and not miss a damn second.

Jake hummed, pleased, into his neck. He took Jake in hand and lazily stroked the way he knew he liked. It didn’t take long before he came between them, coating their stomachs. They sat together in the comedown for a moment before Bradley lay him on his back, gently pulled out, and headed for the bathroom.

He perched on the edge of the bed and gently ran the hot cloth down Jake’s body, collecting all the undeniable proof that he was his. He leaned on an elbow beside him, trailing a featherlight touch down his shoulder blade, the muscles of his back, over the plush rise of his ass, and down a thigh covered in golden hair.

Jake was beautiful, was the thing. Bradley had always liked ‘em pretty, and Jake was pretty as hell, but he was also strong as a damn ox. Chiseled and thick…manly. Bradley had no doubts that Jake could take him in a fight. His stomach twisted with heat at the thought.

“Five-course meal, and now you want a show,” Jake slurred, turning to look at him on the pillow. His cheek squished adorably, and Bradley fought the urge to wrap him up and never let him go. “And you say you ain’t suited for the life of luxury.”

“Mm, figured you’d like being admired.”

“You’re not admiring me.”

Bradley raised a brow and thumbed at the soft skin on his hip. “I’m not?”

“The masses on campus admired you. Admiration implies not knowin’.”

The corner of his mouth tugged; he pointlessly tried to control it. “So, what am I doing?”

“I imagine you’re thinkin’ about round two.”

Bradley rolled his eyes at the mischievous smirk and lightly swatted his ass. “I wasn’t, you minx.”

The smirk turned to a smile that rivaled the spark in that seafoam green he wanted to drown in. Bradley used to watch those smiles aimed at anyone but him and wonder why the hell it was the one smile he couldn’t obtain himself. Now that he had a taste, he knew he couldn’t live without it.

“Well then,” Jake drawled, twisting his ankle around his to draw him closer. “You must be thinking ‘bout how damn lucky you are to be in love with me.”

Bradley fought a grin. “That so?”

“Without a doubt.”

“And what are you thinking about, then?”

Jake draped himself over him, fingers idly toying with his chest hair. Bradley looped his arms around him.

“How much I didn’t admire you.”

“Rude.”

Jake hummed and tapped his chest. “For a ball player, you have no damn game when you’re actually trying to flirt.”

Bradley guffawed, offended. “It worked on you.”

“Says who?”

Bradley gave a pointed look at their naked bodies wrapped in the sheets.

“You think waffles are better than pancakes,” Jake said.

“Because they are. The syrup stays where it should; it’s about practicality.”

“You snore like a damn chainsaw.”

“I do not snore.”

Jake cocked a brow. “I have a video.”

“Fine, show-” Bradley paused suddenly. “Wait…why do you have a video? And why haven’t I seen it? That’s the exact kind of thing you’d lord over my head.”

Jake’s gaze darted away as he shifted slightly, and Bradley grinned like the cat that got the cream.

“I wouldn’t taunt you with that. Momma raised a gentleman.”

“That’s the exact kind of thing you’d get great joy from embarrassing me with.”

“It’s new. I just took it,” Jake tried.

“We haven’t even gone to bed yet.” Bradley rolled them so he was hovering over him. Jake glared up at him, not unlike an adorable, angry kitten. “Jaaakeeeee.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Baby.” Bradley cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb along the apple of it. It earned him those eyes again. He waited.

“You’re annoying when you’re cute.”

“So you’ve told me.”

Jake continued the glare for an impressively long moment, but if Bradley was one thing, it was patient. It had served him well in the long run. It had gotten him this.

Finally, Jake deflated into the pillow, nose crinkling. “I listen to it when I sleep, okay? You’ve Pavlov’ed me into needing that big, honking snore to get any damn shut-eye.”

Bradley could feel how wide his grin was. “Fuck, Jake. Baby, that’s so cute.”

“There’s nothing cute about Stockholm syndrome.”

Bradley’s grin only widened. “You love me.” He leaned down and kissed Jake’s cheek. “And my bad flirting.” Kissed the tip of his nose. “And my breakfast preferences.” And hovered over his lips. Jake went still beneath him, only the ghost of a breath caressing his lips. “And my snor-”

Jake cut him off, surging up to connect their lips. Bradley kissed him back, cursing into his mouth when Jake suddenly rolled them. He could only hold on for dear life as Jake attacked his lips with that singular focus that always made his toes curl and heart leap to be the recipient of. It was all-consuming. One hit, and he’d been addicted. Desire pooled in his gut again quickly.

The desire had been the easier hit to take, but the love….well, that had whopped him over the head with a baseball bat until all he saw were hearts surrounding little birdies singing Jake’s name. He was down so bad the team had even stopped ribbing him for it, but one look at Jake’s face as they walked around campus, his arm tossed over his shoulder to mark his territory, and he couldn’t find a single fucking care to give about anyone else’s thoughts.

The scary part was how much he wanted him all the goddamn time. In his bed, in his arms, in the passenger seat of his car, in his future. He couldn’t imagine a life without him.

The toe-curling, terrifying part was how close he’d been to never having it, never even knowing what he’d missed out on.

Bradley pulled away to catch his breath. “About…” He swallowed a groan when Jake latched onto his jawline. “Round two.”

Jake rolled his hips into his groin, testing. Bradley grabbed the sheets with a whine that would’ve been embarrassing with anyone else, but he’d long ago given it away and accepted his fate.

Surprise mixed with smugness as Jake said, “Hell of a refractory period, Bradshaw.”

“I’m really into you, more shocking news at ten.”

Jake hummed teasingly, trailing his hands down Bradley’s thighs and back up his stomach. Bradley’s skin prickled, and another whimper fell from his lips. Despite the coyness, he could see the pleased heat in Jake’s steady focus. He stretched out, flexing his muscles, and preened when Jake’s eyes darkened.

Bradley had been on the receiving end of those looks from others more times than he could count over the years, but he’d give them all up for eternity if it meant keeping that look on Jake’s face.

Jake’s hands paused near his happy trail, heat seeping into his skin. Bradley’s dick curled up toward his stomach, more than ready from the mere thought of those hands on him. He squirmed, licking his lips. “Jake, sweetheart.”

Finally, a rough, calloused hand wrapped around him and tugged lazily. His grip was dry and hard, bordering on uncomfortable. It sent a zip of pleasure straight up his spine. Bradley groaned and dug his heel into the mattress, dipping his head back onto the pillow as more noises spilled. He tried to swallow, to catch his breath, to do anything other than fall apart as Jake increased the speed, but he was putty to his capable hands.

He was glad he didn’t have to worry about being quiet like the few times they’d fucked in his dorm. He didn’t give a damn who knew, but he wanted this…Jake, gorgeous and sweat-soaked and smelling of sex…for himself.

He fuckin’ loved Seresin Manor.

Jake swiped at the precome, using it to wet his grip. “This what you want, darlin’?”

Bradley cursed and squeezed the sheets in his fingers. He could only nod, the words caught in the gasp in his throat. He was barreling toward the edge of the second cliff embarrassingly fast, but with Jake’s rough hand on him, he couldn’t find enough shame to stop it.

“Fuck, baby, I…” Bradley choked on the thought, eyes rolling back as the wave crashed closer.

And suddenly, the warmth was gone. His hips bucked up, trying to follow, but only met vacant air. Ice pierced through the heat in his body as he forced his eyes open, damn near sobbing. Jake still sat on his knees, but he wasn’t touching him. Why wasn’t he touching him?

The serious, testing look on his face told him enough. Bradley took a guess.

“Is this about the worm thing earlier? Because I’d keep you in my pocket, I swear to god-”

A flash of amusement twisted across Jake’s pretty face. It smoothed out quickly, returning to that considering stare, but he placed his hand on Bradley’s knee, gently rubbing patterns there. It calmed his heart slightly.

“Heard Jenny talking about you tonight.”

“Wha- who?” Bradley asked, lost. Of all the things he’d expected in that easy drawl, it wasn’t that.

The corner of his mouth twitched for the slightest moment. He cocked his head and continued as if discussing the weather, “The world’s still mourning Rooster being tied down, apparently.”

“Don’t care about them,” Bradley breathed, white-knuckling the sheets. “Just want you.”

Jake considered him for a dragging moment before he resituated with his leg between Bradley’s, planting his knee firmly in the mattress. “Show me.”

Jake nodded toward his thigh, and Bradley groaned as he understood the direction. He scooted down. With a bite of his lip, he fucked his hips up against his leg. It was hardly enough, and an awkward angle, but a groan fell from his throat all the same.

“Go on.” Jake combed through his curls. “It’s all yours. Show me how much you want me.”

It was such a fucking Jake thing to say.

The string instantly snapped. He scooped Jake up and deposited him on his back. Jake blinked up at him- gorgeous green blown and surprised- but Bradley didn’t give him a second before he went to town, rutting against him with reckless, wild abandon.

“Fuckin…goddamn,” Jake breathed, wrapping a palm around his length and lazily tugging, unbothered by the chaffed red growing along his thigh. Bradley wanted to paint it white, wanted his name written on it for all eternity. “Bradley…fuck, just like that.”

Bradley kissed up his neck and nipped lightly at his earlobe.

“Fuck.” Jake pushed him onto his back and climbed onto his lap. Bradley’s hands instantly went to his hips, holding on as Jake took him in hand, lined up, and sank down. He swallowed the curse on Bradley’s lips with a kiss as he started moving.

Sparks flew up Bradley’s spine. He squeezed his hips tighter and tore his mouth away to beg, plead. “Jake…” He panted, unable to get his brain to function enough to say the rest, what he so desperately needed.

Jake wildly shook his head. He shoved his fingers in Bradley’s mouth and moved faster. “Bradley….Bradley, shit, baby…”

Bradley groaned around his fingers and shoved his heel into the mattress. His name on those lips was everything he wanted. Torn from Jake’s throat like it was, caused by pleasure taken from his body- Jake chasing it wildly, uninhibited, unafraid. He sucked his fingers and spread out further, giving Jake room to take what he wanted.

Jake tore his fingers away and replaced them with his lips. He kissed Bradley with a rabid sort of desperation, stealing the oxygen from his lungs and breathing new life into his chest. Bradley kissed him back, just as starving for it, and guided his hips down hard and fast. He wouldn’t last long, not with his name breathed between kisses that he felt all the way to his toes.

He took Jake in hand, jerking fast and mean in the way he knew he liked, and murmured, “Come on, sweetheart. You’re so goddamn beautiful, need you to come for me.”

“Think sweet talkin’s gonna get you…fuck…everything?”

“Got me you.”

Jake kissed him again. They clutched their palms together, bodies moving in rhythm once, twice, three more times before he came with a cry into his lips. Bradley followed instantly.

Jake collapsed on top of him. Bradley played with his hair as they caught their breath over the cicadas chirping outside.

“If that’s two rounds with you tired, we gotta do that again when you’re wide awake.”

Jake laughed and lightly pushed him before hopping off the bed. He swayed to the bathroom, perky ass jiggling with each step. The shower started a few seconds later; Bradley followed the sound.

Once they were clean and happily sated, they curled up together on the other side of the bed. It was the best part of the luxurious California King, the sheets always able to wait until the next morning.

Jake motioned for Bradley to lift his leg. He wordlessly situated it on Jake’s lap, and Jake began working his fingers into his tense calf muscle. Bradley sighed, melting into the lush pillows.

“What do you think about starting the new Amazing Race season after we finish Survivor?” Jake asked, voice sleepy and soft.

“Mm, sounds good,” Bradley murmured. “I really think Yam Yam might win.”

“Definitely one of the Tika Three-”

———————

The house was alive and well the next morning, with day-of preparations for the party. Bradley woke before Jake, kissed his forehead, tucked him into the sheets, and stumbled downstairs. He sat in the kitchen with Joey and Mike, who’d arrived bright and early on a red-eye from visiting Mike’s new niece in Florida. For him. They chatted over muffins and coffee, catching up on things since their last call a few weeks prior.

Mr. Seresin sat with them, reading the paper and sipping on coffee, occasionally adding a comment in between flips of the page. Eileen wandered in and out, stopping only long enough to refill her mug before heading out to deal with the festivities again.

Jake eventually shuffled in with a yawn, still adorably sleep-rumpled, dressed in running shorts and a Vanderbilt Tennis sweatshirt. He ruffled Joey’s hair, who swatted him away with a complaint, and fist-bumped Mike. Bradley pushed the empty chair beside him out with his leg, and Jake dramatically plopped into it.

“Mom at Summer Bash level or Mayor’s Fundraiser level?” Jake asked.

Mr. Seresin flipped the page. “Somewhere in the middle.”

“My sweet sixteen level,” Joey supplied.

Jake nodded, apparently appeased enough. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. It always took him a while to wake up. It was a process.

“You guys really don’t have to do all-” Bradley started.

“Bradley,” Jake interrupted, not moving from his half-nap. “Don’t make me hit you this early, darlin’.”

Mike raised his brows, and Joey snorted. Mr. Seresin’s mouth curved as he flipped to the next page.

“He’s joking.” Bradley cut him a look.

“Mm…you know, we’ve never tried that particular thing in b-”

Bradley’s cheeks heated; he knocked his knee into his thigh in a warning.

Across the table, Joey groaned. “Not even five minutes. What did I do to deserve to share DNA with that?”

“You should be thankful you’re surrounded by healthy relationships.” Jake scooted around in his chair so he could toss his legs over Bradley’s. He made grabby hands for Bradley’s coffee, which Bradley supplied with a helplessly fond smile.

“How you willingly live with that, I’ll never know,” Joey said.

Jake flipped her off. “You lived with me for 18 years.”

“Yeah, like a prison sentence. Time served.”

Jake handed the mug to Bradley to take a sip. He handed it back when done, and Jake took another long drag of it.

Joey didn’t think it was as cute as Bradley always did. “You call that healthy?”

Bradley started moving the second he saw the smirk.

“Maybe you want to hear about our very healthy se-” The words were muffled by Bradley’s palm.

“Ignore him,” Bradley huffed, cheeks warm. He moved his hand away right before Jake inevitably licked him, earning an adorably disgruntled glare.

Mike leaned forward, amused. “So, Bradley, how are you feeling? Big day.”

“I’d be nervous as a hen in the fox house if I were you.” Joey buttered a biscuit.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Not helpful, Jojo.”

“Sorry, I just mean, it’s understandable if you’re nervous. I almost had a panic attack on Match Day.”

Mike nodded. “For sure. I still get freaked before every show.”

“Dad?” Joey encouraged.

Mr. Seresin glanced up from the paper. “I was so nervous when I asked Eileen to marry me that I dropped the ring in a storm drain. I climbed in after it. It was all very Stephen King.”

“Hold on.” Joey sat up straighter. “I haven’t heard this.”

“Please tell me you didn’t propose in the sewer,” Jake said.

“She had to call the Fire Department. It took an hour to get me out.” Mr. Seresin shrugged. “She’d already seen the ring. Didn’t want to wait a second longer.”

“Wait, wait, so when-”

Bradley sat back and took another bite of a muffin, listening to the ensuing mayhem. He liked this family so damn much. They were halfway insane, and a lot, but he realized there was nowhere else he’d rather spend his Draft Day morning.

In between three Seresins all talking over each other, Mike shared a knowing, amused look with him. It was something only the two of them could understand, the unspoken Seresins, am I right? and, Can you believe we’re so lucky?

Bradley ran his hand along Jake’s shin and reached for the mug in his hand. Jake gave it over easily, mindlessly, still focused on the point he was making. He accepted it back just as easily, and just as naturally, he dropped his hand to idly play with Bradley’s in his lap.

Bradley toyed with Jake’s empty ring finger. The thought, the want, that had consumed him recently swirled hard in his chest.

Eileen walked in. Without missing a beat, she said, “That’s why we almost named you Georgie, Jojo.”

“So where the hell did Joey come from?!”

“You’ve seen Friends,” Jake supplied. “The likeness is uncanny.”

“Says you, Jacob, you’re named after a ghost.”

“A Christmas Carol is a world-renowned classic!”

Bradley smiled and let the feeling take over.

———————————

“Almost ready to head down?” Bradley asked as he perched his aviators on his head.

Jake walked out of his closet with his black swim trunks hanging so low on his hips that it nearly gave Bradley an aneurysm.

“Or do you want me to take you to the store? We can get you some pants that actually fit.”

Jake winked as he sauntered past. “If you got it, flaunt it.” He grabbed a bag off the floor and dug through it. “At least mine reach my damn knees, unlike some people.”

Bradley glanced down at his yellow trunks with a frown. “There’s nothing wrong with my-” And then it dawned on him what bag Jake had in his hand.

He launched himself across the bed and held it closed. As he lay there panting, Jake stared at where his hand was now locked in the canvas material. Shit. He needed an excuse.

“Um,” Bradley said, eloquently.

Jake’s eyes darted between the bag and him, back to the bag, back to him. And Bradley could see the moment he caught a whiff of something interesting. “Bradley…what’s in the bag?”

“I think it’s 98% polyester.”

“You think?” Jake asked. “Well, let’s check the tag and find out.”

“Not necessary.” Bradley collected the bag, holding it against his chest. “Feels like polyester to me.”

“Bradley.”

“Will you just leave it alone?” Bradley huffed in a last-ditch effort that would never work.

“You’re embarrassed.” Jake’s eyes sparked, and a wicked smirk curled on his lips. Fuck, he knew. He knew, and the hundred scenarios Bradley had thought through for the proposal were all pointless, and he probably thought it was too soon, and- “Is it a dildo?”

Bradley blinked. “What?”

“Holy shit, it totally is.”

“Why would the fuck would it be a dildo?”

Jake merely looked him up and down and cocked a pointed brow. Bradley’s traitorous cheeks burned.

A year ago, he’d never thought much about what being fucked would be like. Honestly, the idea in general still didn’t do much for him.

….But being fucked by Jake? Taken apart and reassembled with confident, gentle care. The first time had made him see God, a fact he’d accidentally admitted with Jake hard and hot inside him, tearing his world apart to build anew. But the answering pleased look on Jake’s face had made him feel worshiped, instead.

Jake might not have been an angel or a demon (though Bradley had his doubts about the latter part), but fuck if he hadn’t made Bradley into a religious man.

Domesticated, Nat always teased.

“I have one.” Jake shrugged.

Bradley almost swallowed his tongue. An image flashed across his mind before he could stop it- Jake in bed, flushed and gorgeous against white sheets, pushing his hips back onto a toy held in hand, that beautiful whimper spilling from his lips, and Bradley wasn’t there to see it-

If it were metal, he could make thermite….that would destroy it…

“Where is it?” Bradley asked, going for casual and missing by a mile.

“You jealous of a metal dick, baby?” Jake’s grin (evil, he was sure of it) widened as he straddled Bradley’s lap. Bradley’s hands grabbed his hips on instinct, keeping him safe (close).

“….no?”

“Mmm.” Jake played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Well, Rooster, looks like we’ve got a bit of a cockfight on our hands.”

Maybe he should’ve let him fall.

Jake kissed what definitely wasn’t a pout off Bradley’s face. “Don’t worry, darlin’, haven’t needed it in a long time…got plenty more things filling up my time these days.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your jokes?”

“No,” Jake answered, grin widening.

“Exactly.”

Jake rolled his eyes. Bradley asked, “What were you looking for, anyway?”

“Your ’86 Mets tee. The soft one.”

“Who says I brought it?”

Jake gave him a look.

Bradley faked a sigh and dug through the bag until he found it. He handed it over to Jake, who took it with a grin before giving him a quick kiss and hopping off his lap to tug it on.

Fuck, he loved how he looked in his clothes. It fit him perfectly- a little tight across his chest, falling just right on his hips. It had always been one of Bradley’s favorites, but with how often Jake stole it, it had risen to the top spot.

Jake perched his black Ray-Bans on his nose. “Shake a tail feather there, Roo, pool’s waiting.”

Bradley shook his head but followed, as always. He paused on the way out and backtracked to grab his bag. He found the ring box and shoved it into a pair of socks before zipping it and tossing it to the corner to be forgotten once again.

The rest of the morning passed in a golden-hued haze. They lay out by the pool, sipping tea and lemonade in between dips into the cool water. Jake had luckily been side-tracked enough to forget about the whole bag thing. He was still sitting at the edge of the pool, kicking his legs in the water as he chattered on about something with Joey when Bradley kissed his head and murmured, “Heading up.”

Jake squeezed his fingers once in acknowledgment before continuing with his point.

Up in the bathroom, Bradley stood under the spray of water and took a few deep breaths, only allowing himself a moment to get lost in his head before he turned the faucet off and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Jake sauntered into the room as Bradley was buttoning his white dress shirt. He pressed a kiss to his cheek before disappearing into the bathroom. The shower turned on.

Bradley perched on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing, until Jake reappeared, smelling like soap and his favorite cologne. And then Bradley noticed what he was wearing.

“Going out for the team?”

“They’d be so lucky.”

Bradley pulled Jake between his legs. “So this is where my favorite jersey went?”

“It’s been good luck. I figured, why break the streak?”

Bradley traced his fingers over the Bradshaw 22 on Jake’s chest. He’d worn one of his jerseys at every game he’d attended that year. It never failed to make Bradley’s heart rate increase. Hell, it was the same reason Bradley wore Jake’s personalized quarter-zips to his matches.

Jake always looked good, but like this, he looked like his. Bradley didn’t hide what a turn-on it was for him. It was clear Jake liked it, and Bradley liked that he liked it. The look he’d get sometimes…when Bradley would kiss him on the field right after a win, unable to believe his luck in life, it was like Jake couldn’t quite believe it, either. He’d never understand that, but fuck if it didn’t make him feel wanted….loved.

“You look….good.”

“I am good, Bradshaw. I’m very good.” Jake brushed at his curls. “Fair warning, my mom had special Bradshaw draft jerseys made for the family and a few of your friends.”

Bradley’s lips twitched, chest burning with fondness. “Of course she did. You didn’t want to match?”

Jake cocked a brow. “Did you want me to?”

“No.” Bradley grinned.

A soft, knowing look crossed Jake’s face. He lightly tugged the collar of Bradley’s shirt. “This is what you’re wearing?”

“Think so.”

Black dress pants, a white shirt, and shiny loafers. He’d forgone a tie and jacket and left the top few buttons of the shirt undone, exposing part of the tank underneath.

“Looks good. Though I am partial to you dressed down…preferably completely.”

Bradley laughed, and Jake grinned. The room went quiet. He could hear the faint commotion downstairs as the guests started arriving. He took another deep breath and tried to prepare himself.

A strong, warm hand cupped his cheek, tracing his scar with his thumb.

“Hey.”

Bradley blinked up. Jake smiled, small and soft, one of his private smiles that Bradley hoarded like a dragon guarding its treasure.

“No matter what happens, I’m fuckin’ proud of you.”

He had no fucking clue what he did to deserve Jake Seresin.

Bradley dropped his head into his stomach, and Jake shifted to carefully comb through his curls. It sent warmth through his entire body, making his stomach flutter for a new, familiar reason.

He’d imagined this day a million different ways, a million different times. The nerves, the fear, the lead in his stomach, the deep sadness at how desperately he wished his parents could be there. But now that it was here, he was surprised to realize he was also…happy. Excited. Through the vents, he could hear the familiar voices of Nat, Javy, and several of his teammates mingling with the Seresins and their friends. The party was already in full swing, all for him. It was so much more than anything he ever could’ve dreamed of.

“Draft day,” Bradley murmured with a tiny grin.

“Draft day. Ready to go get ‘em, slugger?”

“Fuck, yeah. Let’s do this.”

“Oh shit, can’t forget.” Jake collected something from his tie drawer and returned, tucking a brightly patterned pocket square into his shirt pocket. “There. Now the gang’s all here.”

Bradley blinked at the familiar fabric. It was his favorite, the one his mom had handmade for his dad for their anniversary. Bradley had ruined it working on the Bronco’s engine and mourned the loss for a week.

The words clogged once again in his throat; he could only squeeze Jake’s hand.

“Guys.” Joey poked her head inside the door, already sporting her customized jersey. “You ready? The MLB Network crew is here.”

Jake silently directed the question to him.

Bradley slowly grinned. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

——————————-

Fanboy took a sip of his beer, eyes alight. “Yo, Rooster, remember that time you hit that home run right into the video board? Took that damn thing out.”

“An accident.” Bradley grinned and waved off the beer someone tried to hand to him.

“Yeah, okay.” Payback snorted, taking a swig of his bottle. “And it just so happened to be our rivals.”

“What can I say? Karma is my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah, Romeo, we know.” Fanboy tossed a handful of peanuts into his mouth. “Damn, these are good.”

“So what are you thinking? First pick?” Payback asked.

“Nah. That’ll be you, next year.”

Payback grinned. “Damn right.”

Rick and Susan patted his shoulder as they walked past. Bradley nodded in greeting before waving to someone else who called his name. When he turned back, Payback and Fanboy were staring at him with odd expressions.

“What?” Bradley asked, not sure he wanted to know.

“Nothing, man…we’re happy for you. I mean, this party is insane, and as crazy as it is to admit, Seresin’s been good for you,” Payback said. “But just…you know.”

“Pretty sure I don’t.”

Fanboy leaned in and whispered, “Ya know…the Draft Girlfriend Curse. Everyone knows the curse.”

“Don’t think that’s applicable.”

“Boyfriend, partner, whatever.” Fanboy waved his hand through the air. “You know we like Jake, but we’re just looking out for you. It’s always the happy girlfriend on the arm at the Draft, but then two months later, dunzo.”

Payback nodded seriously, like any of the superstition had merit.

The annoying worry resurged, nagging at his stomach. He pushed it away. What they were conveniently forgetting was that most of the breakups came from the newly minted pro moving on to so-called bigger and better. Bradley didn’t want to see if the grass was greener. He liked his grass a hell of a lot, thank you very much. He wanted to plant himself right there with a watering can and watch it grow.

“I appreciate the concern, but that’s not us.”

He fought the urge to look through the crowd for familiar blonde hair and a wide smile. He’d lost Jake to the masses almost immediately, busy playing man of the hour as he caught up with familiar faces. Honestly, he was shocked at how many people the Seresins had wrangled down to Texas for the party. He’d caught Jake’s eye once or twice, and each time they’d both smiled in silent greeting before returning their attention to the next guest.

“We’re not exactly the usual draft day sweethearts,” Bradley added.

Fanboy and Payback studied him for a moment longer before they both grinned. Payback patted his shoulder and said, “You’re right. You guys are already worse than an old married couple.”

“We just want you to know we’ve got your back, man, no matter what,” Fanboy said.

“I know,” Bradley said, honestly. They’d supported him from the second he came out, had asked about Jake like any of the other partners, even watched a few of Jake’s matches with him on his phone in the locker room, and only mildly teased him during the two weeks Jake was at the Australian Open and Bradley was handling the fact he couldn’t be there so very well.

And here he was, not on a couch alone, but standing at his party on his draft day with his friends, hosted by his boyfriend’s family. A curse could kiss his ass.

“Anchor down?” Bradley asked, raising a playful brow.

“Anchor down!” They cheered in unison.

“Okay.” Matt, the producer from the MLB Network, clapped his hands, drawing the room’s attention. “They’re about to go live with the first pick, so we need to get situated.”

The crowd cheered as they gathered around the couches, attention focused on the several big screens the Seresins had set up.

“Where’s Mr. Bradshaw?” Matt asked, looking around.

“Looks like I’m being summoned,” Bradley said.

“Good luck.” Fanboy pushed him toward the couch.

Matt waved him over when he saw him approach. “Bradley, we need you front and center on the couch, closest friends and family around you. Choose wisely, whoever you want in this cherished memory for all eternity.”

On the television, the announcers introduced the year’s draft. Shit…it was really happening. The anxiety he’d managed to smother for the past hour came roaring back. Bradley looked around the room, but in a crowd of familiar faces, he couldn’t find who he needed.

Matt turned to his cameraman. “We’re about to go live with round one. Camera on Bradley in 10, 9, 8…”

Bradley scanned the room again, heart pounding, when there was still no sign of green eyes and a stupid grin.

“Seven, six-“

“Jake, baby?!” Bradley called. He turned to Nat, who stood nearby. “Where’s Jake?”

Finally, Jake popped out of the crowd. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Nat, who merely grinned. Bradley didn’t have time to figure out whatever all that was. He waved him over.

“Four, three-”

Jake made his way over, and Bradley tugged him into the empty spot next to him on the couch. He immediately took his hand, squeezing harder than he meant to. Slowly, Jake threaded their fingers together, returning the squeeze.

The speakers echoed applause as a voice announced, “Welcome to the 2023 MLB Draft!”

———

Fifteen minutes and four picks in, the countdown ticked for the Cardinals to make their decision.

“Fuckin’ Rays, wouldn’t know a good first baseman if it bit ‘em in the ass,” Jake said.

They’d gone with the dickhead from Stanford, who Bradley had the misfortune of rooming with at a camp one summer. The entire party had booed at the selection. Bradley agreed with the sentiment.

He wasn’t bitter at all. And he definitely wasn’t about to throw up. He leaned in and whispered low, just for Jake to hear, “What if-”

Jake shook his head. “It was one interested team. There are others.”

The Cardinals selected a pitcher. Good guy and a hell of an arm, a solid choice, he’d do well for them. The next team’s logo came up, and Bradley’s heart leaped to his throat. It was the pick he’d secretly been hoping for, but he hadn’t wanted to jinx it.

“Sixth pick,” Jake murmured.

“Mets.”

When the announcer walked out, Jake squeezed his hand just as tightly.

“And for the sixth pick in the 2023 MLB Draft-”

The phone rang behind Bradley, where his agent, Tom, stood.

Tom picked up.

“The New York Mets select Bradley Bradshaw-”

The screams in the room and the applause on the television faded to the ringing in his ears as everything went hazy. He could hardly register the first baseman, Vanderbilt. But he knew the hand squeezing his own and the laugh bright in his ear.

And then it sank in.

He’d imagined tears, elation, the relief of the weight of the world falling off his shoulders. He’d imagined all the things he’d maybe want or think about in this moment, how he’d react. He’d always pictured his wide grin on the screen as he placed a team cap on his head.

He didn’t have to think, in reality.

Bradley turned to his left, cupped Jake’s cheeks, and tugged him into a kiss. Jake grinned into it. Bradley only wanted more. He kissed him again, and again, and again, planting sloppy, wet kisses to his grinning lips.

Finally, he pulled away for air and tucked their foreheads together, and the green blazed at him.

“You fuckin’ did it, darlin’. Goddamn.”

Bradley’s smile was so wide it hurt. He ran his thumb over Jake’s stubbled cheek, kissed him once more- softly, sweetly- for good measure, and pulled away to accept the phone still waiting in his agent’s hand.

“Hello?” Bradley croaked, squeezing Jake’s hand.

“Hello, Mr. Bradshaw. This is Coach Kerney. Are you ready to play for the New York Mets?”

“Yes, sir.” Bradley licked his lips. “Hell yes, sir.”

“We’re excited to get you up here for a facilities visit, but we’ll let you celebrate tonight, okay? Speak soon.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Bradley handed the phone back to his agent to handle the logistics. He finally noticed the streamers falling around them- orange and blue- and directed a curious glance toward Jake.

“We had a good feeling,” Jake supplied.

Yeah…he was planting his ass right there and daring anyone to step foot onto his lawn.

“Holy shit,” Bradley breathed. “I’m a Met.”

“You’re a Met, baby.”

He went easily when Jake tugged him into a tight hug. On the TV, he got his first look at the replay of the celebration, and he realized with a blush that he’d forgotten about the cameras. One of the best parts of draft day was always the reactions. It was hard to believe it was his own face he was staring at this time.

“Here, we see the moment Bradshaw received the news live from a watch party with his family in Austin, Texas. As you can tell, they’re ecstatic about the selection. First round, sixth pick, quite an accomplishment.”

“Well, Jerry, you love to see it. Bradshaw’s been a star at Vanderbilt. From scholarship to the majors, what a ride that young man’s on.”

Jerry nodded. “You’re so right, Jim. We’re getting a glimpse of the Mets’ hope for a new home run all-star. I have a feeling this kid’s going to be something special. Give him a year or two in the farm system, and he’s going to be more than ready.”

“Speaking of accomplishment, am I right in believing that’s Olympic tennis prospect Jake Seresin with him?”

“I believe you are. Well, I guess we don’t have to wonder how they know each other.” Jerry chuckled, leaning an elbow on the table as video Bradley and Jake kissed, surrounded by confetti and a cheering crowd. “Sorry, folks, looks like Bradley Bradshaw is off the market.”

“Seresin went to Vanderbilt, too, did he not?”

“I think you’re right, Jim. Oh, looks like we’ve got some pictures. Thanks, Linda.” Two photos populated on screen, one of Bradley in the stands at a tennis match, wearing a Seresin shirt and a grin as he cheered. Another of Jake in a Bradshaw jersey, jumping into Bradley’s arms after the College World Series.

“Adorable. College sweethearts at the top of their game supporting each other’s game, you love to see it.”

“Think we’ll be seeing Bradshaw in the Olympic stands next summer?”

“I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

——————

Four hours later, the party was still in full swing. The MLB Network played quietly in the background, drowned out by music filling a makeshift dance floor in the backyard. Under the fairy lights strung across the expansive patio, Jake’s grandparents slow-danced in one corner while Javy and Nat did the electric slide across the space, laughter on their lips. His teammates huddled in another corner, cheering over a ridiculous dance battle with some of the Seresins’ friends. Bradley grinned into his beer.

“Excuse me, sugar.”

Jake was gorgeous under the Texas moon. He always let the Texas out more when he was loose and free, uninhibited. The drawl sent goosebumps up Bradley’s arms.

He’d unbuttoned the jersey, exposing a tight white tank that sat low against golden chest hair. His cheeks were pink from the heat and alcohol, his grin as bright as the lights above them, his eyes sparkling like the stars.

Bradley was a little drunk too, mostly on the night. The good mood was infectious, sinking into every pore in his body.

He turned to face him, playing coy. “Can I help you?”

“I’m lookin’ for someone,” Jake drawled.

“Who’s that?”

“This damn good dancer I met at a beach bar one time.”

“Mm, I might know a guy.”

Familiar chords played over the speakers, eliciting cheers from the younger crowd as they all ran onto the dancefloor.

I feel so close to you right now, it’s a force field.

Jake held his hand out with a charming grin. Bradley took it.

I wear my heart upon my sleeve, like a big deal.

Jake walked backward to the floor, pulling Bradley with him. They joined the crowd, finding a place near Javy, Nat, Joey, Mike, Fanboy, and Payback. Everyone screamed the lyrics.

Your love pours down on me, surrounds me like a waterfall.

The chorus hit, and the floor erupted into a mass of bouncing bodies. It felt good. Bradley’s cheeks hurt from laughing, his throat from singing, as he jumped up and down with his friends. Jake never let him get too far, tugging him in by the buttons of his dress shirt when he did. Bradley settled his hand on his hip and dragged him in close.

And there’s no stopping us right now. I feel so close you right now-

They moved together to the music. Their friends leaned in to sing the next verse, and Bradley threw his arm over Jake’s shoulders, plastering him to his side with a wide grin as they joined in.

When the song ended to a chorus of cheers, the crowd whooped, throwing their arms in the air as they dispersed to grab drinks or cool off.

Bradley and Jake stumbled with them, hands caught between them. The Texas summer night was sweltering, pairing nicely with the heat alive and well in his body. Fireflies danced in the distant fields. Through the shadows, he could see the outlines of a few lone trees and a longhorn walking.

Bradley ran his hand along Jake’s back as he excused himself to head to the restroom, leaving Jake to latch onto Javy. Javy nodded along to the quick words Jake started in on, as ride or die as he’d always been. Bradley still owed him a fruit basket for not going along with the Rhode Island plan, for giving him a shot at this, unknowingly or not.

He got stopped a few times on his way back, and when he finally slipped out the doors again, he couldn’t find any sight of the two in the crowd. He joined Nat and Joey’s conversation, and a few minutes later, they reappeared from inside, heads dipped in quiet conversation.

A breeze blew past, cool against his sweaty skin. Bradley raised his arm for Jake to slide under as he rejoined the group. He couldn’t help but think they fit like that. They fit, in general. The conversation shifted to a trip they all wanted to take. Jake threw out a mention of baseball offseason. And for the first time, Bradley felt like one of those coming-of-age movies, like the world and its possibilities were infinite.

“You want another drink, baby?” Bradley asked, lips brushing Jake’s ear.

Jake shook his head, something deep shining in his eyes. “Don’t wanna be drunk.”

Bradley understood. He was riding that line of pleasantly buzzed, but he wanted to remember everything about the night.

“Well, I do.” Nat grinned and made finger guns toward the bar. Her hair fell from her braid, dangling near the bright, drunken grin.

“Same!” Joey skipped away, somehow still effortlessly chic in a sweaty jersey. “Catch you on the flip side!”

Nat joined her. Javy and Mark followed behind with amused, head-over-heels smiles.

“Make good decisions!” Jake called after them with a shit-eating smirk. “Love you!”

Nat turned, almost stumbling. She pointed back at him. “Love YOU!” Her attention turned Bradley’s way. “And Bradley, I want to be there opening night. Right behind home plate.”

“He plays first base,” Javy reminded.

“Right behind first base,” she corrected.

Javy snorted and spun her, taking her hand as they walked off. She drunkenly leaned against him, babbling away, and Bradley smiled.

“Next time, I need you to record that so I can hang it over her head for the rest of eternity,” Jake said.

Eternity. He liked the sound of that.

The song shifted to something slower, one Bradley recognized. He turned to Jake and held his hand out.

The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful stop me and steal my breath.

Jake registered it and laughed. “No way.”

“Come on, baby.” Bradley grinned. “I need my Chad Michael Murray.”

“Thought you weren’t Cinderella?”

Bradley pouted, giving him his best puppy dog eyes. “Thought you said this was my ball?”

Jake shook his head with a tiny smile and took Bradley’s hand. “Alright, Hilary Duff, let’s go.”

The dance floor had mostly emptied, but they took a spot in the middle. Bradley settled his hand on his lower back and raised their clasped palms as they began to sway.

And tell me that we belong together

Jake’s smile was small and private. Those crinkles he loved formed around his eyes.

I’ll be captivated, I’ll hang from your lips-

Bradley could feel his cheeks heat the longer he stared at him. “What?”

Jake shrugged a shoulder. “You ended up with the tennis guy, after all.”

And I’ll be your crying shoulder

Bradley smiled and stepped back to twirl him. He waited until Jake was laughing before he pulled him back in and resumed swaying.

“Smooth,” Jake teased.

And I’ll be better when I’m older

“Just giving you the movie moment you deserve.”

“Mm. And does my All-American boy get his happy ending?”

Bradley traced his cheekbone with his thumb. “Happily ever after.”

The look shining in Jake’s eyes took his breath away. It was the same look that had stolen his heart on another dance floor a year ago, but it was different now. Deeper. What had once felt like the start of something new now felt like the start, middle, and end of forever.

“Bradley?”

“Hmm?”

Jake spun him out. Laughter spilled from Bradley’s lips as he was pulled back in and dipped. Jake held him there for a moment with a smug, beautiful smirk.

“I’ll be the greatest fan of your life, baby,” Jake drawled, quoting the song.

Bradley grinned so big it hurt his cheeks. Jake pulled him up, and they resumed swaying. It wasn’t anything more than easy steps back and forth, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost to the conversation and laughter they fell into.

At one point, his teammates walked by and whistled. Fanboy cupped his mouth and called, “Lookin’ good, Prince Charming!”

Bradley flipped them off. They walked away laughing, and it hit Bradley how much he’d miss them. He had a new team waiting on him…professionals, some of whom he’d watched for years. People who he’d be fighting for a spot on the team.

“Hey.”

Bradley blinked away the thoughts, focusing on the analytical green across from him.

“Where’d you go?” Jake asked.

“Nowhere.” He smiled reassuringly and pushed it aside, pulling Jake in closer. He wanted his movie moment. The rest could wait.

When the song ended, a few whoops and claps cheered them on. He’d almost forgotten about the crowd.

Jake waved them off with a, “Yeah, yeah,” but Bradley could see the pink high on his cheeks.

Near the outdoor bar, Mr. and Mrs. Seresin watched with little smiles. They were both still in their custom jerseys, glasses of wine in hand. Bradley kissed Jake’s temple and said, “Be back.”

He slipped through the crowd, accepting congratulations and shoulder pats with nods until he stood in front of them.

“Hi,” Bradley said. “Uh…I just wanted to say thank you. This is all…” He gestured at the party, letting it speak for itself.

Eileen’s face was warm and friendly, motherly. It was so easy to picture how Jake came from her- the lines around her eyes, the spark in the green. “Of course, dear. We’re so happy for you.”

Bradley smiled. He turned his attention to Mr. Seresin, but Mr. Seresin spoke first. He pulled out two cigars and nodded toward the edge of the property. “Come on.”

Bradley followed him away from the lights and noise of the party. They stopped under a floodlight near the garden. The crickets chirped all around, filling the night with the sounds of summer. It reminded him of his childhood in Tennessee, part of the reason he’d chosen Vanderbilt. It felt like home.

Mr. Seresin lit the cigars and handed one over. Bradley wasn’t a smoker, but he took it for what it was- a right of passage, a welcome to his acceptance. He inhaled slowly, watching as the smoke drifted into the dark night. He coughed a few times, cheeks burning in embarrassment, but the look Mr. Seresin cut him was amused…almost fond.

They’d gotten along better since Rhode Island. There was a silent understanding between them. It wasn’t perfect, but he’d accepted that it wasn’t personal. Mr. Seresin was a fox guarding his den. Bradley could respect that, just like Mr. Seresin had respected that Jake had chosen him. Hell, he’d embraced it more than Bradley had ever expected him to. The Bradshaw jersey on his back was proof enough.

They were quiet for a while, but it was more comfortable than he’d imagined possible. There was a shine in Mr. Seresin’s eyes he’d never seen before. He’d always so easily seen Jake in his mom, but for the first time, he could see him in his dad. The strong jaw, the easy confidence, but beyond that, deep emotion, carefully tucked away and revealed only to a chosen few.

Jake loved his family, as messy and complicated as they could be. Bradley loved Jake, and the more time he spent with them, the more he loved them, too.

He wanted to be good enough for them. Good enough for Jake.

“Sir, Mr. Seresin,” Bradley took a breath. “I need you to know…” He trailed off, not sure how to explain the avalanche in his mind.

Mr. Seresin studied him before he squeezed Bradley’s shoulder with a smile softer than any he’d ever directed his way. “I know.”

“He doesn’t need me to provide for him.” Bradley laughed lightly, trying to imagine a world where Jake Seresin needed anything. He didn’t need, he wanted, and Bradley was damn lucky enough to end up in that category. “But I’ll try my damndest at the rest of it.”

“I can see why he likes you.” Mr. Seresin turned to look out at the fields. “We all do.”

Bradley smiled. He watched a longhorn move in the distance.

“I hope I’m not out of line,” Mr. Seresin said, drawing his attention. A serious look was settled on his face, but there was a softness to it. Fatherly, he realized. “But your parents would be proud of you. Not just because of baseball.”

Bradley’s chest burned. He swallowed back the emotion and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Seresin huffed, but he could swear there was a tinge of fondness to it. “Call me Henry, son.”

Bradley smiled. “Thank you, Henry.”

More cheers echoed across the yard, bleeding into the summer night like wine into a river.

“I just need to know one thing.”

Bradley took a breath and nodded. “Okay.”

“Would you crawl into the sewer?”

Bradley met his eye. “Without hesitation.”

Henry studied him for a long moment before the corner of his lip curled. “I think Jake would, too.”

Bradley’s cheeks burned. He ducked his head with a smile.

“Congrats, Bradley.” Henry patted his shoulder and walked back toward the party.

Bradley collected himself and stared up at the Milky Way. He hoped his parents could see that he’d found it. That he understood.

————-

When Bradley slid back into the crowd, Jake glued himself to his side in seconds.

“Were you talking to my dad?”

The corner of Bradley’s mouth tilted. “No.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, the way he always did when he was left out of something. “Don’t bullshit a bullshit-er.”

Fuck, he loved him. And with the emotion clinging to his heart, he couldn’t help but tease, “Henry had a cigar for me.”

Jake’s brows climbed. “Ten minutes, and he’s suddenly Henry?”

“We’re getting along, isn’t that what you wanted?”

Jake stared at him for another long moment. “Did he…encourage something?”

Confused, Bradley took a guess. He subtly sniffed himself; the hints of tobacco were obvious. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna be a thing.”

Jake’s brows raised before he whipped his focus to the crowd, zeroing in on where his dad had just rejoined his mom. “I’ll talk to him.”

Jake planted a kiss on his lips. Bradley could only hold onto his hip and accept it before Jake stormed off like a man on a mission, leaving him blinking in his wake.

“Bradshaw, man.” Javy snorted from a few feet away.

“What am I missing?”

Javy only shook his head with a laugh as he walked away.

“Bradshaw!” Nat called from the dance floor, where she was bouncing around to Destiny’s Child. “Come dance with me!”

Letting it go, Bradley shook his head and headed over.

————-

An hour later, the party was still going strong when Jake plastered himself to Bradley’s side once more. He’d disappeared again for a bit, and just the sight of him was enough to send a flood of warmth rushing through Bradley’s chest. His cheeks were flushed pretty pink, and his eyes were dark. If Bradley didn’t know any better, he’d say he was turned on.

Bradley threw his arm over his shoulders and laughed along to a story Mike told about their last gig when the venue had thought they’d booked the real Def Leppard and not a cover band.

Jake kissed his cheek and whispered, “I got you a present.”

Bradley raised a brow, interested.

“Maybe I’ll let you pour some sugar on me for once.” Jake smirked.

Three things were true. 1. Jake liked to call him sugar. 2. Bradley liked Jake calling him sugar. 3. He’d changed his walk-out song to Pour Some Sugar On Me that season.

Bradley tucked his hands under his shirt, brushing over his hips. “You know I have a sweet tooth.”

Jake stepped in closer, looking up the half-inch he had on him. He drawled, “Then come on, honey.”

Bradley accepted his offered hand. Jake tugged him from the crowd, leaving a mix of boos and cheers from their friends behind them, but Bradley could only focus on the playful fire written all over his boyfriend’s face.

They walked calmly but quickly through the party until they reached the stairs. They stopped at the base and stared at each other. A half-second passed. Jake moved a hair before Bradley did, tapping his chest and booking it up the stairs like his ass was on fire. He caught his balance with the banister and used it to gain momentum around the corner at the top. Bradley followed, hot on his heels with laughter on his lips.

He caught him a few feet from the bedroom door and tugged him into a tight hug from behind.

“Gotcha,” he breathed against the shell of his ear. He picked him up and carried him into the room, kicking the door closed behind them.

When he settled his feet on the floor, Jake turned in his grasp and grinned cheekily up at him. It was so…Jake. Wild, beautiful, halfway insane. As he got older, he only got prettier. Bradley stroked the crinkles near his eye with a thumb, smiling softly. That familiar feeling bubbled up. He hadn’t understood it once upon a time, but now, it was impossible to see it as anything else.

Jake kissed him.

As they stumbled to the bed, he unbuttoned Bradley’s shirt and slid the material down his shoulders. It fell onto the floor in a heap. The rest of their clothing quickly joined it. They collapsed onto the mattress with a grinning kiss. Jake wrapped his leg around Bradley’s back and pulled him in closer, licking into his mouth.

He tasted like whiskey and mint gum. Like home.

Jake gently pushed him away. He got onto his knees and elbows and fluttered his eyelashes over his shoulder, presented and ready.

“Fuck.” Bradley had to squeeze himself to stop from ending everything before it began.

“Opened myself up already. All yours, sugar.”

Bradley swallowed thickly, kneading the pale flesh in his hands. He pressed a testing thumb to his pretty hole, licking his lips when it took him easily.

“Fuck, honey.” Bradley teased at the pink skin, delighting when Jake groaned softly. “This all for me?”

“To the victor, go the spoils. Now, remind me how well you can slide home.” Jake waggled his brows.

Bradley hummed, running a hand up to grab onto his hip. “Are you my prize, baby?”

“All yours, 22.”

Bradley cursed and used his right hand to line himself up. He pushed into that perfect heat slowly, pressing forward until he was flush against his ass. He dropped his head back and swallowed, trying to control himself long enough for Jake to adjust.

Jake rocked back into him, a silent okay. Bradley pulled away and fucked back in. His body drank him in greedily. Bradley built a quick rhythm, sinking in and out of the perfect sight in front of him. Jake pushed back, desperate for more, like he wanted it as bad as Bradley did.

Wanted him.

Bradley squeezed the side of his hips, holding him in place so he could piston in fast and hard. Jake collapsed face-first into the bed, biting a moan into the mattress as he grasped at the sheets. His knuckles went white, little uh-uh-uh’s spilling from his throat with each thrust.

Bradley could hardly believe this was his life. Jake Seresin, perfect and pretty under him, a rookie deal waiting to be signed, everything he’d ever wanted. It was all his.

He needed to see his face.

He pulled out. Jake made a noise of confused protest, but before he could question it, Bradley flipped him onto his back. Wide, fucked out green eyes blinked up at him, pretty against a light pink flush. Bradley kissed him as he sank back home, heart pounding harder when Jake moaned and wrapped a leg around his hips.

“Take my whole life, baby,” Bradley sang on a breath, shifting to slow, shallow grinds of his hips. Jake surged up and kissed him again.

For I can’t help falling in love with you.

It wasn’t a new thought, but it felt new every time. Exhilarating. The words were laced with a warmth he hadn’t felt since he was 14, a part of him he’d almost forgotten until Jake came along and knocked him right back to everything his parents had ever taught him.

Family. Holiday plans. A home for school breaks. A best friend who made every mundane day a new adventure.

Fuck, he wanted it all in a desperate, permanent sort of way. In a nightly kiss before bed, a ring on the finger, a seat always saved, a rocking chairs-on-a-front porch kind of way.

It was too fast. He’d promised Jake no 2.5 year timeline, and here he was, ready to make good on every plan Jake’s parents had ever made for him. What they had was enough, more than fucking enough, but he couldn’t shake the thought of more. Of everything.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed, stealing the air from each other’s lungs and breathing new life in.

“Not gonna last, honey,” Bradley admitted, pressing his forehead to Jake’s shoulder. He kissed the skin there, too. Anything he could reach.

“Don’t expect you to.” Jake pulled his ass in, forcing a thrust deep into him. Bradley groaned at how good it felt. “Now, come on. Show me what an MLB stud can do.”

“Fuck.” The thrusts continued slow and deep, but it only took two, three, four before he started moving faster, chasing the sweet, blessed, tight heat around him. The bed creaked, the headboard pounding in rhythm against the wall.

He pushed Jake’s leg toward his chest and dropped his head to the crook of his neck, inhaling familiar vanilla and rich cologne. It only took three more thrusts into his perfect body before he came with a groan, stilling deep inside.

Through the blissful haze, he faintly registered Jake brushing his hair back to kiss his forehead. Bradley didn’t roll off him, only snuggled in closer. Fuck, he’d never felt so sated, apart from every other time they had sex. It had changed him on a molecular level the first time, he was pretty sure.

He frowned when he noticed the hardness under his stomach. He tried to shift and reach for it, but Jake tugged him closer. “Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep.”

“But-”

Jake kissed him, shutting him up. “Later. Tonight’s about you.”

The words remained caught in his throat- I want to make it good for you. I can be good enough for you.

Please let this be good enough for you.

He remained quiet.

Jake snuggled him under his arm, tossed a leg between his, and kissed his forehead. Sated and warm, with Jake’s familiar smell surrounding him, the excitement of the day finally wore on him. His blinks grew slower until he was out.

—

When Bradley blinked into awareness, night’s shadow still tugged at the sky. He checked the clock- 6:30 AM. Despite only being asleep for a few hours, he knew there was no way he’d fall back to sleep.

Jake was a line of sleep-soft heat against his chest. Their legs were tangled, Bradley still tucked under his arm, with his own arm tossed over Jake’s stomach. Soft breaths puffed against the crown of his head.

Bradley carefully slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. He took care of business, slipped on a t-shirt, and crawled back into the waiting heat. Jake curled around him instantly, chest still moving with slow breaths.

Bradley gently carded through his soft hair and took a moment to just look at him. His normally larger-than-life vibrancy was more glow than flash when sleeping. No smirks were present on his pretty face, only a gentle peace. After almost a year of waking up like that, it still took his breath away.

He loved him, but he also just…liked him so damn much. Liked him wide awake with a snappy remark on his tongue, liked him on the couch on a lazy night in, liked him by his side as they took turns washing and drying the dishes, liked him when he fucked up the laundry and turned Bradley’s whites pink, liked him strutting around a party, all eyes on him. Liked him like this…soft and sweet, tucked against him as he dreamed, a spot only Bradley had the privilege of occupying.

The extra pillows were kicked to the end of the bed, as far away from getting in between them as possible.

Bradley’s chest filled with warmth as he pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Jake nuzzled his nose into Bradley’s chest; a slow smirk curled at the edge of his lips. His voice was rough with sleep when he spoke. “Can feel you lookin’ at me.”

“Yeah,” Bradley admitted, unembarrassed but quiet in the honesty. He ran his hand in soothing strokes up and down Jake’s bicep. “Just thinkin’.”

“Mm, are we being pensive at 6 am again?”

Bradley grinned, pulled back to another memory of a perfect summer. “Just thinking about Fort Sumter.”

He could feel the knowing, pleased smile against his skin, but because Jake was Jake, the little shit said, “You got drafted and laid, and you’re thinking about the Civil War. How often do you think about the Roman Empire?”

Bradley laughed. He pulled him in closer and ran a teasing hand down his hip. “I’m thinking about how much I love a good union.”

“Bradley Bradshaw, ladies and gentlemen.”

He could do this forever. It wasn’t a scary thought like he’d once imagined.

Bradley rolled them over, ignoring Jake’s noise of disgruntled surprise. He hovered over him, lips curling. “Hi.”

Jake stared up, unamused. “I was comfortable.”

“Thank you for my present last night. Prettiest present I’ve ever unwrapped.”

Jake soaked up the praise like Bradley knew he would, pleased and smug as hell. He grinned cheekily, making the crinkles around his eyes stand out, and shifted an arm under his head, fully aware of how goddamn good he looked like that.

“Already got added to a group chat with some WAGs. They gave me some tips. Apparently, getting railed is a ‘Draft Night Tradition.’”

Bradley bit back his amusement. “That so?”

“Mhmm…” Jake tracked his pointer finger over the scar on Bradley’s neck. Bradley had to force his eyes not to flutter closed. “Gotta make sure you get all the appropriate experiences. Win the World Series or League MVP, and you punch your ticket to pound town again.”

Bradley snorted. He idly brushed a lock of blonde hair from his forehead. “You’re gonna be the hottest WAG out there. Everyone’s gonna be jealous.”

“I’m petitioning to change the name.”

“Do tell.”

“Thought about WAP, but that just won’t do.”

“Mm.” Bradley smirked. “You do make my pull-out game weak.”

Jake blinked, horrified. “Why do you know the lyrics?”

“Why do you?” Bradley countered.

The look that sparked in the green spelled trouble. “There’s definitely some whores in this house.”

Bradley snorted into his shoulder. He blinked up, putting on his best puppy dog eyes, the ones he’d figured out got him almost anything he wanted from Jake. “Thought you were done slut-shaming me?”

“Technically, I’m slut-shaming us both.”

“Says the man who went from his high school sweetheart to me.”

Some of the amusement faded to that careful look he got, the one where Bradley was almost sure he could read every thought in his mind. “I thought you were over the Alex thing?”

“I am,” Bradley assured, honestly. He’d been surprised at how immediately he’d disliked the guy before he’d finally realized the feeling bubbling under his skin was jealousy. But he’d won at the end, and though he’d never truly like Alex, he sure as shit felt one thing for him. “I’m grateful as hell to him, really.”

Jake continued studying him; Bradley wished he could see inside his head sometimes. For all that Jake blustered, he kept his true emotions close to the vest. Bradley had been given access- something he held like a badge of honor, careful with it- but there were times he still couldn’t get a lock on what was going on behind those green eyes.

It had happened more and more recently. He knew they needed to talk about it- the future- and he knew what he wanted: commitment, domesticity, a ball and chain, the whole nine yards. But fuck, he wished he could see what Jake was thinking about it.

Bradley traced his finger through golden chest hair. He loved how it felt under his fingertips, loved how Jake’s thick muscles felt wrapped around him, under him, against him. Loved watching his Adams apple bob and his stubble grow after a few days without shaving. He had no damn clue how he’d ever read the heat that pooled in his stomach when he watched Jake simply exist as anything other than what it was.

He owed Jennifer Paige a thank you if he ever met her. Right behind Alex for being dumb enough to lose the best thing in his life. Bradley had no intention of ever making the same mistake.

Bradley pressed a soft kiss to his peck, reveling in the steady heartbeat he found there. He murmured, “But do you ever think about it? If you guys hadn’t broken up, we never would’ve…” He cut off, unable to vocalize it. They’d been so damn close to never having this…to never even knowing what they were missing out on. Jake would’ve moved on, maybe gone back to Alex, and Bradley would’ve spent a lifetime seeing him through the lens of Javy and Nat’s events, completely unaware he’d lost the love of his life.

Jake’s calculated stare remained for a long moment. Finally, he said, “I jerked off to you, once. Before that summer.”

Bradley could practically hear the record scratch in his brain. He pushed onto his elbows so fast he almost got light-headed, but a strong hand steadied him.

“What?! You hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you.”

Bradley cocked a brow.

He doubled down, “I didn’t!”

Bradley bit his lip and ran his finger along Jake’s collarbone. “…you, uh…thought about me, though?”

The thought made his brain blue screen in the best way. Heat tugged in his gut as he pictured Jake tucked away in bed, hand wrapped around himself, thoughts of Bradley on his mind. He’d never understood why Jake hated him so much. It had kept him up more than one night, obsessing over it. He’d wanted to punch him nearly as many times as he’d wanted to hear his every thought.

If he was being honest, he’d always wanted Jake to like him. It was his embarrassing truth he would’ve taken to the grave. But now? Well…he wanted so much more.

“The night we met.” Jake shrugged like he wasn’t rocking the foundation of Bradley’s entire world. “I knew you were…you.” He waved a hand down his body. “But then we met, and you were you. It was extremely irritating.”

Bradley smirked. “Am I supposed to be sorry?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I did what any good, God-fearing Southern boy would do…got roaringly drunk and took the frustration out on my hand.”

Bradley almost didn’t say it, but the words came out slowly. “But you were still with…”

“I know.” Jake shifted to stare up at the ceiling, working his jaw. “It was over already. Weirdly enough, you’re the one who made me finally admit it to myself.” Jake paused, and the odd mix of guilt and pure smug satisfaction in Bradley’s chest relaxed when a small smile grew on his pretty face again. “I listened to Taylor Swift on repeat for a week straight. It was all very dramatic.”

It made him smile. It was the same thing he’d been thinking in Rhode Island, tucked away in a shower with his hand wrapped around himself, feeling guilty as sin. Imagining Jake’s kiss, his bare skin on Bradley’s, how those thick muscles would feel in his bruising grip, how his legs would feel wrapped around Bradley’s back, his breath hot on his cheek.

Lying there now, he couldn’t find anything unholy about any of it.

“You confused the hell out of me,” Bradley admitted. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be you or beat you. Turns out I just wanted to date you.”

“Romantic,” Jake drawled.

“Told you.” Bradley rolled on top of him. “This is 100% Grade A Boyfriend material.”

Jake’s mouth tilted; he playfully squeezed his ass. “Best cut ‘a sirloin out there.”

In that mirthful green, he saw his favorite person in the world. It was hard to believe there was ever a time he’d looked into his eyes and seen anything else. The thing he’d been thinking about nonstop slammed into him like a freight train all over again. He’d gotten the one thing he’d always wanted.

Maybe he could get the only thing that mattered, too.