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frstcorinthians · 1 year

Text

; rest your head one more time (ii)

summary: the next morning in the med wing saw a couple new recruits coming in with stuffy noses. you gave them some cold medicine and sent them on their way, mind elsewhere. rooster’s warning was still spinning in your head, and as your thoughts spiraled, you managed to boil your worries down to two reasons. the first was more obvious: rattler was unpleasant to be around. any sense of camaraderie you could form with your teammates would be ruined by his presence. he was always watching and waiting for someone to slip up slightly, trying to find chinks in their armor that he could run and report to higher-ups. he was, to put it mildly, a professional pain in the ass. the second reason was more personal. warnings: 18+ and i MEAN IT, little enemies-to-lovers quarrel, unprotected sex, and the evergreen mentions of medical procedures wc: 4k not too shabby notes: welcome 2 my twisted mind. the smut is probably not that great since i haven’t written any before but um. enjoy. please.

The next morning in the med wing saw a couple new recruits coming in with stuffy noses. You gave them some cold medicine and sent them on their way, mind elsewhere. Rooster’s warning was still spinning in your head, and as your thoughts spiraled, you managed to boil your worries down to two reasons. The first was more obvious: Rattler was unpleasant to be around. Any sense of camaraderie you could form with your teammates would be ruined by his presence. He was always watching and waiting for someone to slip up slightly, trying to find chinks in their armor that he could run and report to higher-ups. He was, to put it mildly, a professional pain in the ass.

The second reason was more personal. Rattler was the one who gave you your call sign, the one who branded your time here with a reminder of the worst moment of your life. Embarrassing call signs weren’t unusual - in fact, most of them were just that - but yours felt uniquely cruel. You didn’t get it as the result of a drunken bender or mishap in Basic, you got it because at a critical moment in your career, you fucked up. It needled you every day, made you insanely methodical in your work. You had dodged many a question from Coyote or joke from Hangman asking about how you got it until you finally cracked and made up a story about owning several Ragdoll cats. They had laughed and occasionally poked fun at you, but never pushed beyond that. You worried that, if Rattler showed up and started running his mouth, the carefully crafted story you’d put up would shatter. Your tentative friends would be appalled at what you’d done, you’d be too embarrassed to show your face to them again, and your entire world here at Top Gun would be dead in the water.

Your catastrophizing was interrupted by Hangman banging through the door, dragging another man with him. “Ragdoll! Nice to see you. I’ve got one for you here.” Hangman dropped the other pilot off into a chair unceremoniously.

You went into autopilot, coming over to assess your new patient. “What happened?” You pulled his helmet off and found yourself face-to-face with Rattler.

Your hands stilled. Rattler’s head rolled over to meet your eyes, and a lazy smile spread across his face. “Long time no see, Ragdoll.” You felt paralyzed. All you could do was stare and stare, taking in the flecks of blood and bruises that were starting to form on his face.

“This idiot got himself right in Rooster’s line of fire,” Hangman clapped his hand on Rattler’s shoulder. You were glad to see him flinch. “Got himself knocked around in the cockpit, slammed his face into the controls.”

“Alright.” You went over to grab some supplies. You were as gentle with Rattler as you were with anyone, but you still saw him wince under your fingertips. Your eyebrows furrowed and you felt around, looking for signs of what might be wrong. “I think your nose is broken.”

As you went over to grab some numbing gel so you could set his nose, Hangman’s words finally hit you. “You said Rooster had something to do with it?” You tried not to sound too interested, but you felt your temper start to rise at the thought that Rooster might have done something stupid. You told him not to take any risks. Crossing Rattler always ended poorly, regardless of who was actually in the wrong.

“Yeah, his flying was totally off today,” Hangman was chatty as usual as he watched you sort your supplies with interest. “He was all turned around already, and by the time this guy got up there he wasn’t aiming straight.”

You didn’t want to pique Rattler’s interest, so you simply hmmed in response to Hangman’s story. Rattler knew you and Rooster had history even before Basic, but he didn’t know the extent of it - both of you were wise enough to shut up whenever he tried to come ferret out details. Maybe we could use this to our advantage, make him think the real secret is that we’re dating. The thought came to you unbidden, and you almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous it was. It was a known fact around base that you and Rooster didn’t get along, and the idea of you two in a relationship was about as plausible as the Hard Deck running out of beer.

“Glad to see you’re still one of our top doctors,” Rattler’s voice was pleasant, but it made your face heat up in embarrassment. You shrugged, pretending you weren’t shaken.

“Ragdoll’s great. She keeps us all in tip-top shape.” Hangman’s voice was genuinely fond as he watched you wash your hands before bandaging Rattler’s nose. “Even helped me a while back when I sprained my wrist while on leave.”

“Sounds like you’ve really learned to go above and beyond.” You thought Rattler’s voice sounded a little smug, but you tried to convince yourself you were imagining it. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one playing doctor even when off-duty.”

You hit your limit with Rattler’s antics; you wanted him gone. You quickly bandaged up his face, and if you pressed a little harder on the bridge of his nose than you should have, well, who would know?

“Keep the bandaging on for a couple weeks. I’ll call you when it’s time for me to take another look.” You gave a quick, terse smile and started to put things away, hoping Rattler would take the hint. He did, mercifully, and went on his merry way to terrorize someone else. Hangman hung back as you finished closing all your drawers. You only realized he was still there when you thunked the back of your head against the wall and let out a deep breath.

“What’s that guy’s deal?” Hangman’s face was uncharacteristically sober as he looked at you.

“He’s a grade-A asshole, and not in the fun way, like you.” Your voice was flat - Rattler really knew how to take it out of you.

“Thanks,” Hangman snorted. “But seriously, do you two know each other? Rooster was weird around him too, even before we got up in the air today.”

“We met in Basic.” You tried your best not to slide down the wall. “Some advice: don’t talk too much in front of him and stay out of his way. He’s the biggest fucking narc I’ve ever met, and I know how much you love flaunting behavioral codes.”

“’Preciate it.” Hangman’s expression was still troubled. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, right? Any of us. You’re part of our team.”

At another time, his words would have made you smile, feel giddy. Now, they only made you feel vaguely sick. “Yeah. Anytime, Hangman.”

Once the base had retired for the night, you made it your mission to hunt down Rooster. You wanted to know what exactly had happened during training today. If the two of you were going to handle Rattler, you needed to be on the same page. You checked his usual haunts, but didn’t find him in the mess hall, the lounge, or the hangar. After making a couple rounds, you decided to search for reinforcements.

You found Fanboy sitting with Payback at one of the tables in the mess hall. “Hey, doc!” Fanboy’s voice was cheery as he waved you over to their table. “Come to check on your favorite patient?”

He made you smile, despite yourself. “As much as I’d love to chat, I’m actually looking for Rooster. Either of you seen him?”

The two pilots exchanged a dubious look. “Yeah, he got stuck doing push-ups after training,” Payback answered. “He’s probably still out there, Maverick was the one watching him.”

Shit. “Alright, thanks guys.” You were in such a rush to leave you missed spotting Rattler sitting a chair a few tables down, carefully watching your interaction.

You hurried down to the tarmac, absolutely no plan in mind for how you were going to distract Maverick enough to let you talk to Rooster. Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d switch spots with you, let you watch Rooster’s suffering. The idea should have made you laugh, even a little, but instead you felt guilty. Where the hell did that come from? In what world did you care that Rooster was facing the consequences of his actions? This was the same guy who made you justify every single action you took, the same guy you kept the corner of your eye on everywhere you went. You were hyper-aware of where he was, orbiting him like a cat skittering around a dog. He deserved a little pain for all the shit he had given you, even if, in this particular incident, you two were on the same side.

You felt a spark go up your spine as you spotted two men down by the planes, golden in the setting sun. You zeroed in on Rooster’s form. As you approached them, Maverick looked your way, raising a hand in greeting.

“Ragdoll, good to see you. You wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on this one, would you?”

“No problem, sir.” You tried to match his very toothy smile, forcing a grin on your face and trying to keep your eyes off Rooster.

“Thanks,” Maverick clapped you on the back and headed away, probably to annoy one of the higher-ups again. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your churning stomach down.

“Heard you got into it with Rattler today,” you started. Rooster kept at it, not even sparing a glance your way. You tried again. “Not to be all ‘I told you so,’ but I warned you going after him like that was a bad id–”

Finally, Rooster stood up. “I wasn’t ‘going after him,’” he cut you off, voice even. “He got in the way of my flying, and I should’ve been watching.”

You stared. No way the same guy who had made you triple-check your first aid kits every time you went out - seriously, you forget gauze one time and you never hear the end of it - was the one who was innocently screwing over someone else in training. No way the guy who has an indexed list of every mistake Hangman’s made in the last two years accidentally misfires. No way the only person who can hold a grudge longer than you doesn’t take a golden opportunity to let it out. “Rooster, this was the worst possible way to take out your issues with Rattler.”

“You think I did something this stupid because of something he did to me?” His voice was starting to heat up, and not in the usual annoyed way - there was real fire in his eyes.

“Why else would you go after the guy?” It seemed obvious to you.

“Maybe because right before I shot at him, he was running his mouth about how bad a doctor you are?” Rooster was almost yelling, and the very small part of your brain not occupied with how close to your face he was was extremely grateful no one else was nearby. Your brain processed his words quickly, spitting out something entirely illogical: how sweet, Rooster risked disciplinary action to defend your skills. The thought left you reeling, grasping at anything else to avoid feeling thankful towards someone you hated.

“You think I can’t fight my battles for me?” You spat out, voice shrill. In the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t believe what you were saying. But the urge to argue with Rooster, even when you knew it wasn’t worth the energy, was a deep-seated one. It was second nature at this point, to swing back at him with something to the contrary, just to keep his attention on you.

And it was, his eyes wide, staring directly at you. “What? That’s not–” he pushed his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You know what? Forget it.” He picked up his gear and made for the far side of the tarmac. You watched as he left, still floundering, feelings of guilt now compounding. You tried to push them down as you trailed out after him, watching as he made his way to the garage.

Rooster’s apartment wasn’t far from base, set in a complex that housed a number of other pilots and staff. You felt a little apprehensive as you drove up. You knew his address from the medical file you got from the higher-ups; it wasn’t like you’d gone snooping around to find it. But still, the two of you weren’t really friends. What would you say if he answered the door? Hey, it’s me, just wanted to keep talking about what happened between you and the one person we both hate more than each other. Also maybe to apologize, who knows? You swallowed your feelings down and got out of your car, heading over to his unit.

The door opened before you could knock. Rooster stood in the entryway, hair disheveled and expression suspicious. “What are you doing here, Ragdoll?”

No reason to beat around the bush. “I wasn’t done talking to you.”

“What’s there to talk about? I fucked up and he got in the middle of it.” Rooster still didn’t move out of the doorway. Your temper, still on edge from your argument earlier, came to the surface once more.

“You can’t ‘fuck up’ like that around him, Rooster!” Your voice was rising. “You know how he is, he’ll tell everything to Maverick, or Cyclone, or–”

Your voice was cut off by Rooster grabbing your arm and pulling you inside, slamming the door behind you. “You think I don’t know what Rattler’s like?” His voice was angry. “I know just as well as you what an asshole he is, and I know how badly I messed up today. I don’t need you to come running to my apartment trying to clean up my mess.”

“I’m not cleaning up your shit, you idiot!” You were still shouting, voice ringing through the apartment. “I have my own problems to handle, and if you start stirring Rattler up, he’ll bring them all out in the open again.” Rooster opened his mouth to say something, but you plowed ahead. “And, it’ll only get worse if you defend me in front of him. I can’t have this squad thinking I’m an idiot, I can’t do that again.”

“God, what’s the worst thing he could bring up?” Rooster threw his hands up in exasperation. “That you missed two points in a final exam years ago?”

“You don’t remember? What happened to Bobcat three years ago, at Lemoore?” Now that you had started, you couldn’t stop. The words were spilling out of you like a flood. “You were there the whole time. The biggest fuck-up of my life, and you and Rattler saw the whole damn thing. For all I know, you came up with my call sign together. Now I’ve got a squad of people counting on me and I cannot let them start to think I’m as big an idiot as you know I am.”

Rooster’s expression changed. “Ragdoll, what are you talking about?”

You laughed, nearly hysterical. “Don’t act like you don’t remember. All those classes at UVA? You constantly talking down to me, acting like you’re such a genius because you know all about every stupid little detail of the U.S. military? You treated me like an idiot the entire time we were there, and it only got worse in Basic.”

“Wait a damn minute, you’re the one who was picking fights with me.” Rooster’s temper was back up. The issue of Rattler was almost forgotten, the two of you more interested in trading old hurts.

“Bullshit!” You stopped thinking; your body moved on its own. It was a decade of embarrassment and pain and an inescapable gravitational pull you felt towards Rooster that made you take a swing at him. You saw it happen in slow-motion, saw his eyes widen as he took in what was happening. You watched as he neatly dodged and moved to grab your other hand before you even knew you had it raised.

“Ragdoll, knock it off.” Rooster wrestled you down, even as you fought like hell to get out of his grasp. You were a scrappy thing for sure, but Rooster had several inches on you. He ended up pinning you down to the floor, arms above your head. Both of you were breathing heavily, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Neither of you moved for a moment, then another. Then, something in the tension snapped, and his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t soft. Rooster kept your arms pinned down, and as much as you twisted against him, his grip was iron-strong. “Quit squirming,” Rooster’s voice was husky as he moved down to kiss your neck.

“Shut the fuck up–” your words ended in a moan as Rooster found a particularly sensitive spot. Anything else you could’ve said died in your throat as he bit down. It had been a while since you’d had sex with anyone. Between the grueling schedule at Top Gun and the hang-ups surrounding Rooster you were beginning to suspect you had, there weren’t many opportunities to fuck around. You swore your skin was sparking as Rooster rucked up your shirt with one hand, continuing to press kisses against the skin of your stomach.

“If I let go of your hands, will you try to punch me again?” He looked up at you, pupils already blown wide.

“No.” Your voice was quiet, punched-out.

“Good.” He did just that. Your hands immediately flew to his hair, pulling him up to kiss you again. He groaned at the feeling. You felt something hard against the inside of your thigh, and suspected Rooster had been suffering from the same schedule as you. You pressed your hips against his, insistent. The heat from the argument before was still in your veins, you wanted him now, now, now.

“Bedroom,” Rooster pulled you up off the floor, your arms draped around him, holding on like a damn limpet. He pushed you down onto the bed and you pulled him right back on top of you, unable and unwilling to let him go for long. You kept kissing him, feeling almost like you were going to devour him whole. Now that you’d let yourself have him all to yourself, you weren’t ready to give him up.

You made quick work of his shirt before pawing at his belt buckle, trying desperately to undo it. Your movements were stalled by his gentle kisses at your chest, sending your nerves alight. You stifled your moan, trying still to keep any hint of vulnerability hidden away. “C’mon,” Rooster chuckled. “You’re usually so ready to snap at me, let me hear your pretty little voice.”

“Give me something worth yelling about, maybe I will.” Your voice wavered, hands slipping on Rooster’s zipper at the feeling of his laughter vibrating against your skin.

“Deal.” Rooster helped your hands pull down his jeans and boxers. You felt the heat between your legs pulse as his cock bobbed out. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a little whimper - you wanted him bad. He grinned at the sound, and your instinct to one-up him kicked in. You spat into your hand and wrapped it around him, starting to pump his cock. Now he was the one whimpering, panting into your neck as you ran your thumb along the head of his cock. You could feel him start to drip into your hand, pre-cum adding a delicious slide to the heat of your hand.

“Fuck, wait,” Rooster stuttered out, cock jumping in your hand.

“What, done already? Man, how long has it been since you got laid?” You asked as you gave him one more teasing stroke.

“Shut up,” he moaned, pressing another long kiss to your lips.

“Make me,” you answered, positively glowing at how worked up you’d gotten him. You were so focused on feeling pleased with yourself you almost missed his hand traveling down to reach between your legs. Electricity shot up your spine as he flicked over your clit, a high-pitched, involuntary whimper coming out of your mouth.

“Big talk coming from someone who’s already dripping into my hand.” And you were. Rooster dragged his fingers through your folds, covering them in your wetness before he slid two into you. You moaned long and loud at the feeling. “Listen to that,” he said, voice low. He pumped his fingers in and out of you with precision, thumb rolling circles around your clit. “All it takes for you to finally quit arguing with me is to shove my hand down your pants.”

“I c-can’t,” you started, thoughts falling out of your head. All you could focus on was the feeling of his fingers delicately stretching you out, scissoring you open. They pressed in and slid along a spot on the inside of your walls that made your hips buck involuntarily, scream caught in your throat. If he kept doing this, you were going to cum into his hand, desperate as a teenager.

He gave you a couple more swipes along your clit, laughing out loud at the desperation of your whines, before sliding his fingers out. You watched, brain out-of-focus, as he shifted his position, pushing your knees further apart. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your hips higher up, chasing the feeling of being full again. If he didn’t get inside you right now, you were going to scream, or cry, or god forbid, beg.

Rooster was impatient too. He pressed into you, both of you groaning at the feeling. The stretch was delicious, even with how slowly he was moving. “F-fuck,” you stuttered out. Rooster gave a couple deep thrusts, teasing, before setting a harder pace. With every thrust, he hit directly at the same spot from earlier, punching staccato moans from your throat.

“I like you more like this,” he panted out, eyes roaming around your face, taking in your disheveled hair and glassy eyes. “Can’t run your mouth with me this deep in you, huh?”

Tragically, he was right. You couldn’t string together coherent thoughts, nevermind words, with him burying himself in you over and over. Your mind was running a loop of his name, all other thoughts pushed aside. All you could do was cling on, working a hand between your bodies to rub over your clit. You felt yourself winding tighter and tighter, all the stresses you hadn’t realized you were carrying pulling taut in your body. You pulled Rooster’s mouth down to yours in a sloppy kiss and ended up panting into his mouth, breath pushed out of you by his measured thrusts.

A few more deep strokes and you were done for. You felt your body suspend in one brutal, blinding moment, teeth clamping down on to Rooster’s shoulder to stifle the scream coming out of your mouth. Rooster moaned at the feeling of you pulsing around him, thrusts starting to fall out of rhythm. He chased your hips with his own, as if he couldn’t help the need to be inside you. A few more desperate thrusts later and he pushed himself fully inside you one final time, muffling his own long moan in the crook of your neck.

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breath, before Rooster gently pulled out of you. He swung himself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, presumably to clean himself up. You started to push yourself up onto your elbows, making to get up and leave. You weren’t sure he wanted you to stick around, and you’d rather leave before any awkward conversations came up. Right as you were about to drop your feet onto the floor, Rooster came back into the room, crawling back into bed.

“Where are you going?” He asked, voice bleary, soft.

“Thought you’d want me to leave,” you mumbled out.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You didn’t, not really. You were tired from arguing and your limbs felt like jelly. All you wanted to do was curl up right next to Rooster and fall asleep. Whatever conversations the two of you would have to have, you could do it tomorrow. For now, you pulled the sheets back over the two of you, slotting your body in next to his. You felt an arm drape over your waist, pulling you close, before you feel into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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