HEARTFIRST (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader)

6.

It's a mistake. All of this. Jake. Bradley. You scoot farther from Hangman in the stall, raking a hand through your hair as you wait to hear Natasha's next move, her humming stopped. Her humming resumes as she exits the stall a minute later, the flush of the toilet echoing through the room. Her feet pass by the stall you're hidden in and you let out a gentle breath, keen to hear the sink turn on and off, the ripping of paper towels and the door creak open once again.

There's another beat of silence before you finally fully exhale, tilting your head back to rest against the stall door. She's gone. Silently, you thank her for the interruption, for bringing your senses back to you.

A second later, Jake is back on you, his hands on your hips, his lips at your neck. "Now, where were we?" he asks, sliding his hand back around to your backside. You shrug out of his grasp, turning towards the door, your fingers working at the latch. He sighs something heavy, tugging his shirt back over his torso, his head hanging low.

"We can't. This," you say, pausing as you push the stall door open and turn back to him, "this was a mistake."

He clears his throat, looking around the room then back at you. "I mean, the bathroom's not ideal but I've tried much worse." He smiles at a memory you can't see.

"No, Jake, not the bathroom. This." You getsure to yourself and then to him. "Me, having sex with you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Ouch."

"That's not what I meant," you sigh. "I just...don't think we should do this. Right now." You turn to make your way towards the door. You could find Natasha, catch a ride back to the base, and get some sleep. Everything would make sense in the morning.

Fucking tequila.

"Wait. Hey, are you okay?" Jake's hand catches your arm, though, stopping you. Sighing, you turn into him, looking up. His brow is furrowed, his eyes scanning your face for answers. He looks – well – concerned. Kind. Something new for him. "If I crossed a line, I-"

"No, Jake, you didn't. Not at all." you cut him off. " It's just been a really shitty night, okay? I'm sorry I brought you in here, I should go."

"Don't apologize. It's okay." He loosens his grip on your forearm, but his hand stays in place. He moves his thumb across your skin, as if trying to comfort you, but he stops just as quickly, seeming unsure of himself. His eyes meet yours and he takes a deep breath. "Do you want to talk about it? We can get out of here."

You don't know what you want, so you just nod. You don't want to think, don't want to have to make decisions – you always choose wrong. So, you let Jake choose for you and hope you don't regret it; the night couldn't get worse.

Thirty minutes later you're sitting on Hangman's bed. His room looks just like Natasha's, but it's down at the end of the hallway, something you were grateful for as it let you slip in without drawing attention from or running into anyone else. You wouldn't know where to begin if you had to explain the events of tonight to Natasha. Or Bradley.

You tuck your feet up under you as Jake digs around in his dresser for something. He turns around with a sweatshirt in his hands.

"In case you're cold." He holds it out to you and you take it, unsure of his motives. He shrugs. "I heard you're collecting them."

You laugh and turn the sweatshirt over in your hands, lifting it up to see the logo on the front. It's strikingly similar to the ones Natasha and Bradley owned, but gray instead of blue. You hadn't asked for clothes. You hadn't asked for anything, really. The two of you had only exchanged a few words since leaving the Hard Deck. It felt nice, though, in a weird way, the silence. The night had been too much, too wild, spiraling out of control. Somehow, in all of it, Jake became the calm center you needed.