Mouse had stood by his friends, a sea of service dress white uniforms. He payed little mind to the friendly banter exchanged between them, favoring to eye the captain. He watched as Maverick made it to the bar, whispering into Penny Benjamin's ear. His stomach dropped as he watched her smile fade away, pulling back to eye Maverick with a broken expression.

He frowned, eyes burning as he watched them silently move toward the exit.

"Hey, pip." A voice murmured from behind him. He jolted back, nearly colliding into the man's chest as he turned to the side to reveal Hangman, wearing matching dress whites, and a predictable smirk on his face. The pilot was late, which was yet another predictable feature.

Mouse felt his shoulders droop in relief at the other's arrival, forgetting momentarily about his father's whereabouts, and focusing solely on the blond before him. He smiled at him, something small, and quick, before being dropped to a blank expression.

He felt a gentle touch at the back of his hand, causing him to flinch away. He shifted, eyes darting to meet Hangman's, narrowing.

"What are you—" He began, frowning. Hangman didn't reply, fixing the shorter man with another smirk. If Mouse was annoyed, he didn't have time convey it. Hangman's hand found his again, threading his fingers through his own and gripping steadily.

"Hangman," He muttered his call sign in gentle reprimand, voice wavering, unsure. It didn't faze the pilot, he moved to stand right beside him. He gave Mouse one last glance before paying his attention to the conversation between the group of servicemen in front of them.

"Jake," He tried again in a whisper. He watched as Hangman stiffened, his success at ignoring Mouse thus far immediately halting. Hangman turned to look at him, tightening the hold on his hand.

"What?" Hangman had murmured, his face morphing into one of mock innocence. He had moved forward, to where their hands were concealed by his body being held so close to Mouse's own.

"Uh," Payback was the first to notice. Mouse looked up, watching as his partner's eyes widened. "You good, Mouse?"
That allowed the rest of the aviators to tune into the difference in dynamic.

"The hell's going on?" Rooster grunted, taking a step forward. Phoenix's eyes narrowed from where she stood, frowning. Bob and Coyote just seemed incredibly confused, eyes wide.

"I can't hold my boyfriend's hand?" Hangman whispered just for Mouse to hear, eyes only on him. He leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth.
Mouse could feel Hangman's smirk against his skin. It had lasted less than a second. His eyes darted to the others, instantly growing nervous. He huffed quietly in frustration at the immediate blush that warmed his face.

Hangman pulled away, turning fix the rest of the group with a cocky smile.

"Oh my god." Phoenix had muttered.

"Oh my god." Payback echoed, jaw agape.

"You—" Coyote began, pointing an accusing finger at Hangman. "You didn't tell me? I'm your best friend!"

Rooster and Bob were both silent. Bob eyes were wide, but he kept an awkward smile on his face, fixed on Mouse. Rooster was just the opposite, seemingly disgruntled. He had crossed his arms over his chest, fixing Hangman with a solid glare.

"I mean, Mouse," Phoenix sputtered, head reeling back. "You could have easily picked better."

"Hey!" Hangman shot out, smirk dropping to replace it with an insecure frown.

"Alright," Mouse reprimanded quietly, still fidgeting in quiet embarrassment.

"Hey, I'm happy for you guys." Bob smiled from where he stood.

"Yeah, what he said." Payback nodded immediately, while Phoenix grumbled in half-agreement.

Mouse eyed Rooster who at least had the decency to look somewhat guilty. Mouse caught his gaze, jerking his head toward the bar, before settling on shifting his eyes between Hangman and the others.
"I'm gonna get a drink, want anything?"

"Yeah, a beer." Hangman replied, letting go of Mouse's hand to slide a palm down his side in parting as he tacked on a whispered "please". The others simply shook their heads or held their own drinks up in answer.

Mouse nodded with a polite smile, taking note of Hangman's quiet niceties with an amused chuckle as he backed away.
He made quick work of sliding past strangers, the bar set in his sights, but a hand meeting his wrist halfway through his journey stopped him. He took his time turning around, already sure of who was at the other end. Rooster dropped his hand, furrowing his brows, as he struggled to speak.

"Is he good to you?" He had decided, eyes narrowing. Mouse gave a crooked smile, laughing.

"What?" Rooster muttered, confused and slightly offended.

"Just—" Mouse began, moving closer in an attempt to shout over the loud patrons of the bar, hand at the other man's bicep. "Maverick said the same thing."

Rooster frowned at that, unamused, as he softly shook his head.

"Yeah," Mouse answered. Rooster looked up and into his eyes, evaluating. "He is."

"He's an asshole—" Rooster huffed, frustrated, and clearly annoyed. "But I'll live."

Mouse smiled, grabbing at Rooster's shoulder and tugging him into a side-hug. Rooster was quick to return it, hand moving to rest at the shorter man's back, grumbling in thinly veiled amusement.

"That doesn't mean I won't give him a hard time, Scott." He pointed out as they pulled away from each other. It sounded almost like a promise.

"I was kind of hoping you would." Mouse smiled, quick in imagining what that would entail. He took the last few steps toward the edge of the bar, ordering a few drinks from the nearest tender. He turned back around, bottles in hand as he fixed Rooster with a smile. The other man simply rolled his eyes, beginning to walk back toward their group of friends. He was kind enough to slow down, allowing Mouse to catch up.

They arrived to find the group at a nearby table, a long line of shots at their mercy. Hangman leaned back in his seat, an amused smile plastered onto his face.

"We weren't even gone that long." Mouse muttered, confused.
"Who ordered these?"

"That would be me." Coyote grinned, fastening a hand around a glass and dropping its contents into his mouth.

Mouse frowned down at the table and its occupants, watching as Rooster moved to sit beside Phoenix. He set the beers beside the line of shot glasses, sliding one toward Hangman. "Do you still even want this?" He asked genuinely, eyeing the stronger drinks in front of him.

"Of course," Hangman placated, hand grabbing at Mouse's forearm, and tugging him down into the seat beside him. "I drink as much as you want me to."

"Whipped," Payback coughed into his drink, causing Coyote to bark out a surprised laugh, nearly falling from his seat.

Hangman moved to rest his elbow atop the table, hand held into a fist before extending his middle finger.
"Jealousy is a disease." He muttered, tilting his head with a faux smile on his face.