Scott's unfocused vision stayed on the large screen ahead of him, unwavering. Maverick's lectures didn't normally drone on for so long, and he certainly wouldn't call them boring. But for reasons beyond him, he couldn't seem to stay focused. His eyes moved slowly, almost unknowingly, to land at the back of Hangman's head. His gaze followed the brown hair with every shift of the other's neck. The pilot's head turned to follow something, before moving to rest on Scott, eyes darting between him and the presence he felt at his side. His neck craned to look up at his instructor, who was now near to the right of him, staring down expectantly.

"Sir?" He murmured, back straightening as his ears grew hot at the attention of the room.

"Let's pay attention, yeah Lieutenant?" Maverick asked, eyes hardening. He looked the type of angry that meant they'd talk about it later.

"Yes, sir." He said quickly, nodding his head firmly. Maverick stayed there, debating whether the answer satiated him, before he simply tilted his chin up and headed back to the front of the room.

"We'll take this up again tomorrow." Maverick told the room, gaze trailing along every face inhabiting it. "You're all dismissed."

Mouse attempted to stretch discreetly when he moved to stand, wincing at the aching he felt at his shoulder blades.
"Hey," A voice at his side jabbed. Scott turned, looking to Payback with a small smile. One that his pilot immediately returned. "Most of the guys wanted to go to The Hard Deck tonight, what do you think?"

Scott nodded immediately as they followed the rest of the group into the hall. "Yeah, sounds good." He murmured, running an excited hand through his hair while a body moved to walk along his other side. He turned to see Hangman's expectant eyes on his own.

"Hey." He said in greeting, gaze darting between either of Scott's eyes.

"Huh, a sentence without an insult." Scott mused passive aggressively, moving to stare ahead of him. Payback stiffened awkwardly, murmuring a small "see you, man" before quickly moving ahead of them to walk alongside Phoenix.

"Look, can we talk for a minute?" Hangman proposed in a whisper, eyeing the rest of the group around them. His eyes seemed desperate when Scott looked back to him.

"But someone might think we actually like being around each other." Mouse explained, a feigned grimace on his face.

"Alright, that's fair." Hangman said, frowning slightly.

"It's more than fair." Scott eyes darted to the side to fix a glare at the other. A gentle hand wrapped around his wrist, attempting to stop him. Scott allowed it reluctantly, turning around to face him.

"Okay," Hangman began, taking a steadying breath. "What happened last night, it—"

"Was a mistake." Scott butted in, voice confident.
Hangman's brows knitted together, head jerking slightly in reaction. He licked his lips, blinking rapidly.

"No," Hangman said, hesitant. He looked to the ground for a moment, setting his shoulder before facing Scott again. "No, it wasn't."

"Really?" Scott deadpanned, the muscles at his jaw tensing.

"Yes." The pilot stressed.

"Look, you hate me. I know you do." Scott explained, shaking his head. "You want nothing to do with me."

"I do." Hangman started.

"You don't." Scott glared before huffing, tossing his hands up in the air as he turned away. He flipped back around with his brows furrowed, his hand gesturing toward himself.
"What made you decide to want this?"

Hangman's eyes were confident. Not the cocky or "I'm better than you are" confidence, but the sure, without a doubt, telling the truth confidence.

"I've never not wanted you." He murmured, his face morphing into the familiar indecipherable expression he'd put on around him. Scott eyes darted to the ground before looking nervously back at the other man's genuine expression.
"I made a lot of digs. Some of them could be chalked up to camaraderie," Hangman started, eyes unwavering. "But not all. The personal shit I made fun of, that wasn't right, and I'm sorry for it—"

"Why'd you say it?" Scott asked.

"I—" Hangman stopped himself, his face portraying his internal battle of whether to continue or not. "I was angry. I've been angry... for a long time." He muttered, a small frown made its way to rest on his face. "You brought up things about myself I never wanted to... recognize."

Scott's expression softened slightly, realizing what the other was implying.
"I don't know..." He said finally, shifting nervously on his feet. He'd always thought about it in the back of his mind, almost an after thought, but not quite. While he focused on flight exercises, his eyes would dart to him every once in a while, but he had assumed it was because he should be wary. It never occurred to him that his lingering gazes during their day at the beach were anything to take notice to.

"Will you be at The Hard Deck tonight?" Hangman asked, leaning his head to the side to catch the other's anxious eyes.

"Yeah," Scott nodded slowly.

"Great," The pilot assured, his eyes turning confident as his famous smirk adorned his face. "I'll see you there. I'll right my wrongs. Let me make it up to you, alright?"

Scott shrugged noncommittally, overwhelmed from the past twenty-four hours of whiplash he had experienced.

"If it'll make you feel better, you can hit me." Hangman offered, grin turning into more of a half-smile at the thought of it. Scott raised a brow, amused. "Lightly." Hangman tacked on, raising his hands. Scott chuckled, eyes softening.

"Yeah, alright." He said, biting the inside of his cheek as eyed the taller man.

"Perfect." Hangman's cocky grin returned. "See you there." He walked backward, shooting the WSO another smirk before turning to jog off.

-

Scott sat next to Bob at their large group table, unconsciously leaving the spot to his left empty. Hangman was unsurprisingly the last to join them.

"Just had to go rescue a bus load of children, you didn't have to wait up, guys." Hangman mock bragged, shrugging exaggeratedly. Coyote jokingly cheered, which only egged the pilot on, who did a mock bow before taking the seat beside Scott.

"Hey, M." Hangman grinned. "You need another beer? I'll buy." He offered up quickly, moving to rest his chin atop his hand.

"What the hell?" Rooster muttered into his drink, eyes darting between the two. "Since when have you been buddy-buddy?"

Hangman turned to look at him from across the table. "I found solace with the lord, Jesus Christ, Bradley." He explained quickly, tilting his head. "Maybe you should try it out?"

Rooster didn't respond, simply resorting to showing the other pilot his middle finger.

"God wouldn't approve." Hangman frowned as he leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms to rest comfortably against his chest.

"I'm sure you're very familiar with what God wouldn't approve of." Phoenix jokingly insinuated, leaning forward. Hangman's smirk returned, shrugging his shoulders with a tilt of his head.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Hangman gestured to her with a lazy wave of his hand.

Conversation around them picked up, but Scott paid more or less no mind to it. He eyed the drastic movements of his friends but not the faces that accompanied them. He slowly moved to grab the beer in front of him, taking a drink in equal pace.

"Alright, Mouse?" Bob leaned to his side to whisper in his ear.

"Great." Scott replied, wrapping a reassuring arm around his friend's shoulder.

"Oh, the happy couple!" Phoenix muttered in jest toward them while everyone chuckled. Scott looked up, rolling his eyes lightly as the grip he had on his friend tightened. He looked to Hangman, curious to his reaction of the joke. The pilot seemed unfazed, eyes on Scott, grinning along with the rest of them.

A few uniformed naval officers he vaguely recognized began to pass them by, but the group payed no mind to them, enthralled in their own conversation.
"—gusting." Scott caught the tail end of an officer's sentence from behind his and Bob's still embracing forms. The sound of the chair beside him skidding across the wood floor flooded his left ear. He dug his heels into the ground to shove his chair backward, putting an arm on the back of it, and craning to look. The people around them shouted, some cheering while others reprimanded. His eyes landed on Hangman's hand gripping at the front of one of the officers' shirt, his other hand balled into a fist, pummeling into the man's face repeatedly.

"Jesus Christ!" Phoenix shouted as everyone at the table moved to stand. Rooster and Coyote were the first to step toward the fight. The man at the hands of Hangman stumbled, but Hangman held on. They toppled to the floor with the pilot on top, unrelenting in his attacks. The officer's arms darted up to protect his face, getting in a few good jabs toward his aggressor. Coyote and Rooster moved to grab at Hangman's upper arms, pulling him off and hoisting him up to stand. Hangman's eyes were dark with an unsettling anger.

"What the hell was that for?" Rooster hissed, his hold tightening. Hangman ignored him, eyes narrowing at the wounded man whose friend helped him up. Mouse took a few steps closer, taking in the injuries both of them had sustained. The officer had a cut above his brow, curtesy of Hangman's ring as well as a bloody nose that would surely bruise. When he laid eyes on Hangman, it seemed that the officer only got in one good hit on him which was a split lip.

"Have your friend keep his mouth shut if he can't handle getting a little roughed up." Hangman called out, cocky smirk accompanying his harsh eyes.

"The hell's wrong with you?" The wounded man glared, cupping a hand to his bleeding nose. Hangman didn't answer, letting his confident smile do all of the talking. It seemed to say enough, because the officer lunged at him, his fist grappling at the other man's chest.

"Woah, woah!" Hangman chuckled maliciously as the man was pulled away from him. He raised his hands up in mock surrender. "Easy, tiger. Took quite the hit."

"Fuck you," The man spat, fighting against his friend's grip. Hangman didn't pull away from the hold Rooster and Coyote still had on him, feigning a nonchalant stature. Scott noticed the pilot was anything but relaxed, the muscles at his jaw working over themselves.

"Just get him out of here." Presumably a friend of the man muttered to the other as they gently tugged him toward the exit.

"What'd he say?" Payback cut through the silence as Rooster and Coyote let go of Hangman's form.

"Doesn't matter now." Hangman quickly covered, seemingly unwilling to repeat the phrase. He clapped his hands together, smirk widening. "How about that drink, pipsqueak?" He turned to Scott with a wink. Scott stiffened slightly, taken aback. He slowly nodded his head, allowing the other to lead him to the bar with a smile.