HEARTFIRST (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader)

Bonus Chapter: "Muscle Memory"

A/N: Long time no post y'all! I've been thinking a lot about HeartFirst & playing back a lot of "what if's" in regards to the plot. So... I wrote a "what if" scenario for Rooster & Reader. Specifically, what if Rooster and reader did go home together at the end of Part V? I've included a bit of chapter 5 to help place this blurb in its larger context, but it can also be read as a stand-alone one shot.

... 

"There you are," Bradley whispers, his hands snaking around your waist. You falter forward, bracing your free hand against his chest.

"Here I am," you laugh, looking up at him. His face is flushed bright red, his pupils dilated in the dim room, whether from adrenaline or desire you're not sure. Maybe both. His hair is wild and untamed, much like his grip on you right now, totally uninhibited. You're not sure if you should be thanking or cursing the alcohol, deciding to do neither, the feeling of Bradley's hands on your waist as you dance is the only thing on your mind.

He hums, grinding his hips roughly against yours, his hands sliding around to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. "I've been looking for you," he mumbles, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your tank top. You gasp at the feeling of his skin against yours, but you don't stop him.

"I've been waiting to congratulate you," you purr, lifting yourself onto your tip-toes to get close to Bradley's ear. You'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't thought about where tonight could go and how much you wanted it, even if it was foolish. The hungry look in his dark brown eyes tells you he's thinking something similar, his gaze raking over your chest and neck, his lips pressed together in a hard line as he holds himself back from you. He spins you around as the music changes, tugging you back into him as a slower song kicks in over the speakers.

"I'm here to collect my prize." His voice is low and husky, his breath hot on your neck as he leans in to place an open mouthed kiss to the spot just below your ear. Your knees buckle beneath you, your breath catching in your throat. God, he's undeniably hot. You swallow hard and pray you don't get burned.

"Well then ya big stud," you say slowly, reconnecting your eyes with his, "take me to bed."

"Show me the way home, honey," he drawls, flashing you a spectacularly eager smile. He slides his fingers between yours and releases you from his grip on your waist, leading you towards the door. Your heart is beating impossibly fast, thumping against your chest with anticipation.

You can't control it. The urge to touch him, that is. Maybe it's not so much an urge as it is an involuntary impulse. While others would think it foolish to be in such close proximity to him again, the only thing you'd find foolish would be to deny yourself the ability to feel him while you have him. After all, you know it's not meant to last. It's just for tonight. So you let yourself; you don't fight the impulse – not even on the ride home. Your fingers trace up and down the exposed skin of his forearm as he drives, smiling as you notice goosebumps blooming across his skin in your wake. It fuels something inside of you, lights up your desire for him, to know that your touch still has an effect on him. That even after all of that time apart, there's a part of him that still desires you, too. He hums, tightening his grip on your thigh with his free hand, his fingers caressing the soft skin there, inching higher with each subtle stroke. You swallow hard, suppressing any thoughts and responses other than those of pure carnal pleasure. It doesn't mean he loves you, doesn't mean you want each other back, it's just muscle memory.

"Mine or yours?" he asks, pulling up to a stoplight. You glance over your shoulder back towards the Hard Deck, watching the rest of the team stumble out of the doors and into the night. You know going back to his doesn't mean true privacy, just a small room in a shared hallway: thin walls and familiar, nosy neighbors. Yours, on the other hand, means revisiting memories you're not sure you're ready to face.