Golden Hour || Robert 'Bob' Floyd x OC

now that you're close (i feel like coming undone)

A/N: Future!Fic. Mostly fluff, but has suggestive elements. Enjoy!

Technically, Abby wasn't invited.

The celebratory gala was reserved for the people who actively ensured the success of the Uranium Plant mission, and Abby didn't meet that requirement according to the higher ups.

So, when she walked into the hall, her arm linked with that of Admiral Bates, Bob nearly choked on his ginger ale.

"You okay there, Bob?"

Bob coughed a few times, his eyes never leaving Abby as the Admiral led her around the room making introductions.

"Yeah," he confirmed, offering a quick glance at Hangman before looking back towards Abby, whose smile was bright and genuine as they shook hands with a two-star Admiral with graying hair.

The pilot's eyes followed Bob's line of sight, and a broad grin spread across his face, realization replacing the confusion. "Ah, your lady's here."

Bob's head whipped back, eyes wide and alarmed. They had done everything they could to keep their relationship private. Of course, the other aviators knew they'd gone on a couple of dates, but besides Phoenix, none of them knew just how deep it was.

Bob opened his mouth to object, to correct him, but Hangman's raised eyebrow made him close his mouth again.

Phoenix and Rooster joined the pair, champagne glasses in hand. "How the hell the Abby snag an invitation?"

Bob barely paid attention to them. His eyes continued to follow his girlfriend around the room.

The moniker still felt foreign in his mouth. The first time he saw Abby was burned in his mind, and he remembered his heart beating a little faster as he watched her.

She had rounded the corner of the opening to the hangar and walked with purposeful strides toward Admiral Bates. She'd stopped next to him, a small smile on her lips and friendly conversation had flowed between them. Bob remembered that his front seater, Oz, had admonished him for staring.

He couldn't help it then, and he definitely couldn't help it now.

"You're just mad your girlfriend wasn't invited," Phoenix commented to Rooster, making Jake bark out a loud laugh.

"She's not my girlfriend."

Bob took his eyes off Abby, his attention back to his friends and their bickering. Almost dying together had brought them closer, and Bob had never felt like he belonged more than with these people. It was a little odd to present them with a ribbon for a classified mission, but they were all here and alive, and that counted for something.

"I didn't say a name," Phoenix told Rooster, whose ears turned red.

Jake clapped a hand on Rooster's shoulder. "Don't play dumb, Bradshaw. We all know you and Kennedy are a thing, just like Baby on Board and Abby are banging like rabbits."

Bob's mouth fell open. "Wha... we're not... no."

Natasha had buried her face in her hand. Rooster was looking anywhere but at Hangman, and Hangman himself had a smug and self-satisfied smile on his face.

"Don't take after Rooster and play dumb with me, Bob," he drawled, his Texas twang permeating every word. "When was the last time you spent a night on base?"

Heat spread through Bob's cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears, and though he wasn't ashamed that he stayed with Abby most of the time, he was uncomfortable with knowing that someone had noticed. That Hangman had noticed.