Into the Honeyverse

Single Saturday Night

Sittin' over in the corner, baby, I saw
Pretty red lips workin' on a White Claw
Shakin' to a little Shook Me All Night Long
And I thought
Man, what a beautiful sight
Ain't a morning you don't wake up in my shirt now
Even holdin' hands walkin' outta church now

Single Saturday Night x Cole Swindell

Jake

Settled into our usual spots around the pool table at the Hard Deck, Coyote and I listen to a couple of students from the newest Top Gun class discuss how they plan on taking girls home tonight. They went back over the rules of the "dibs" system, which Coyote and I had briefly explained earlier when we were reminiscing on our own memories of Top Gun now that we're instructors. We had no idea they were even listening to a word we said, given that their heads were too inflated with their own egos to hear much else other than their own praises. I lean over to mumble to Coyote.

"Dude, were we really that bad?" I question.

"Nah, we weren't. But you were. You're lucky I stuck around," he jokes with a clap on my back, making me grimace at how awful I apparently was. "Halo was good for you, brought you down quite a few pegs and keeps you grounded. Much to everyone's relief," he teases.

Speaking of the little devil, she walks through the door, still dressed in her scrubs with one of the girls I recognize as another nurse at the base hospital at her side. I pick up on one of the aviators, Jackpot I think, also noticing Beckham walking through the door, as he quickly slaps his buddy on the chest to lay his claim on her.

"Dibs on the red lips!" He exclaims, making his buddy groan.  "I saw her first bud, we can't all be winners," he boasts. 

Coyote is about to step in and save his ass, absolutely unaware that Beck is mine, but I'm feeling a little mischievous tonight and hold him back.

"Nah man, let her shut him down," I whisper, broad smirk cutting across my face. 

The little dweeb struts over to Beckham and her friend at the bar.

Beckham

Jess and I trudge to the bar after a long ass shift at the base ER, basically dead on our feet.  It's been a while since I was in a hospital setting, thanks to our particular task force,  but they had almost half their nurses call in sick with a nasty strain of the flu and were in dire need of capable hands.  She and I are decompressing, discussing the patient that yanked out his IV and sent blood squirting everywhere like a horror movie, when a body plops onto the stool next to me.  I don't acknowledge whoever it is, fully engrossed in my conversation with Jess.  I hear a throat clear behind me and a voice speak up over the music coming from the jukebox.

"Did it hurt?" I'm asked with a tap to my shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

"Did it hurt?  You know, when you fell from heaven?" The stranger asks again.  I quickly peg him as a student at Top Gun thanks to his uniform and annoyingly overconfident attitude. 

"Did you just call me satan?" I retort, making him stutter out his response.

"I uhhh, no.  I was-I was referring to the fact you're too gorgeous to be human, so you have to be an angel," he tries to recover.