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tgmsunmontue · 2 months ago

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From the top 4/6

IceMav, (eventual) Explicit, (background Hangster who are already established). Set post-TGM. (No dead Ice obviously).

Featuring not-mistaken identities (where they (Ice and Mav) pretend to be in the dark for REASONS), Ice is Jake's Uncle Tom, Mav is Bradley's Dad, everyone knows everyone, (un)requited love, coming out as an older person, and a little bit of a circus-vibe where Ice has a horrible realization that this is indeed his circus and these are also his monkeys.

An AU where Mav married Carole and adopted Bradley to make things easier legally. A USNA Bradley who has been very careful to separate Dad/Pete from godfather/Maverick. They had an argument prior to TGM, but it was around Maverick being careless with his life (RE: Darkstar because Bradley got the call that Maverick was missing, presumed dead). So it was about risk taking and thinking while flying, so that was happening and Bradley admits to the Dagger Squadron that Maverick is his godfather and they have a ‘complicated relationship’ which isn’t a lie per se, however it’s… complicated.

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE

PART FOUR

>>How did the sweeping go?

Pete stares at the message and rolls his eyes, types out you tell me before deleting it. For some reason he can’t wrap his head around, Ice seems to want this faux-layer of anonymity. He’s asking Pete what he thinks. Clearly wants to know.

>>It’s an ongoing project, not one I intend to ever stop. I think it started well though.

>>What about you?

>>Ask your best friend out yet?

He scrunches his nose as he looks at his phone, wonders how Ice is going to wiggle out of this one. He will wiggle though, Ice is nothing if not a phenomenal diplomat and has a gift with words.

>>We had dinner together. It went very well.

Even though he was there, even though he’d seen his effect on Tom, had had the realization about just how deep Tom’s feeling went and for how long it’s still incredibly reassuring to read that Tom also thinks it went well. Very well in fact. He grins at his phone stupidly.

>>Glad to hear it.

>>What are you up to right now?

>>Packing for a work trip. Flight is this afternoon.

Of course.

Hawaii.

>>I’ll leave you to your packing.

>>Let me know when you land.

>>Okay.

>>If you want me to.

>>I want you to.

The exchange leaves Pete feeling a little unmoored. Usually when they’re apart they don’t talk very much, a hangover from longer deployments when they’d send each other letters or postcards, each piece taking weeks to get there. It gives them plenty to talk about once they’re back together, but Pete wants some way to show Ice that he’s thinking about him. More than just messaging him or drowning him in flowers…

Postcards.

They’re not quite love letters, although maybe they could be, simply a sign that he’s thinking about him. Except the postal service is so much slower than sending immediate messages, but they’re something tangible, and Ice knows what they mean. He looks at his box of vintage postcards and smiles slowly, decides to send one to Ice’s office in Hawaii. He’s aware as he addresses it that Ice hasn’t even gone wheels-up to leave, but with the pace of the mail service he’ll likely get it halfway through his time there. And then Pete will make sure there’s a whole lot more waiting for him when he gets home.

… … …

Tom isn’t used to sharing so much mundane information with Maverick. When they’re apart they’ve always gone on the assumption that no news is good news, especially considering Maverick’s exploits generally reach his ears fairly quickly. However he dutifully lets him know that he arrives safely, and Pete likewise shares his own safe arrival. In his actual messages there is an invitation from Mav to come out to his hangar for dinner a day after he’s scheduled to get back.

He’s busy with work. While the Navy have given him special dispensation to work from North Island a lot so he can have family support while he was undergoing treatment he’s also well aware that there is a lot to try and cram in during his time here. He will need to relocate back here, once he’s given the all clear and his lips twist at the thought; the distance it will put between him and Maverick just as they seem to finally be figuring things out. Not that he doesn’t think they can deal with it.

“Mail for you sir.”

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t get mail very often now, most communication is electronic, but he can’t stop his heart skipping when he sees the postcard. Even without turning it over he knows it’s from Mav, the fact it’s a vintage WW2 postcard, a pinup girl on the front encouraging people to join the Navy. He’s immediately amused. Maverick’s collection of postcards is something Tom has always poked fun at, asking him what the point of buying postcards was if he wasn’t ever going to send them. He’d replied that he liked the history of them and the pictures, and he would send them if he knew the person receiving them would really appreciate them, and if they were important enough.

And here he is, receiving one.

It’s not like he had any doubts but this is… this is really something. He runs a finger around the edge of the card, thinks of Pete going through all his cards and choosing one to send him. He flips it over to read, finds himself smiling at Mav’s spiky script, isn’t surprised that there’s almost no text to speak of, too used to keeping things vague and brief on the back of a postcard that anyone could read.

T-14. M.

He looks at the date of the postal stamp and realizes it was received and processed the day he left. Fucking Maverick.

Swept indeed.

… … …

Pete usually works on his plane when he has free time. However he’s had a different project consuming his time while Ice has been gone. This weekend he’s expecting a delivery of a few things to finish things up. While the trailer has been fine, he’s not as young as he once was, he can accept that now. He’s also not going to expect Ice to sleep in it, doesn’t think he would fit, because Bradley had complained and he’s an inch shorter than Ice.

So his long-standing plans for the one corner of the hanger has become his top priority. A mezzanine level built over what is meant to be a permanent kitchenette. The skeleton and support structure has been built for years, and all the plumbing is in place but capped off. The cabinetry is sitting in boxes, unassembled. He doesn’t care about the kitchen, what he cares about is the space above. A bedroom of sorts. A large California king he’s ordered which is now sitting beside the P-51. Now he’s just got to figure out how the hell he’s going to get it up to the level above by himself. He’s spent time painting and laying vinyl, plastering and installing a fan over the bed, which had involved placing more beams. But he’s proud of his progress. Normally he’d have told Ice all about it, but he wants to show him. Surprise him.

“Mav? You here?”

“Bradley?” Pete calls out, popping his head to the side around the side-railing of the mezzanine. He could help. “Do you think you could help me lift the mattress up here?”

“Uh…” Bradley looks at the large mattress wrapped in plastic, the matt-black frame which still needs to be fully assembled.

“Mav… this is like a four-person job. At least. But… how about we assemble the base and set it up, then I’ll come back tomorrow with some of the others, and we can figure it out. Are you… finally settling down?”

“Finally doing something,” Pete mumbles under his breath, but louder he says, “yeah, finally admitting my back can’t handle the thin foam mattress in the trailer.”

“Good call.”

… … …

Bradley does return the next day, after convincing all the Daggers to come with him. They’ve all been out to the hangar before, but he had said that Mav needs their help, and well, left it at that. So half of them think they’re working on the P-51, which Bradley knows won’t be happening until either Mav dies or hell freezes over, or there is something else. He’d noted the unfinished kitchenette, and he’s pretty sure with all of them pitching in they can get things to the point where he doesn’t have to worry about his god-father hurting himself through DIY. It would make a change from it happening at work, but Bradley would put money on there being other extenuating circumstances that Mav isn’t sharing, and if Bradley can help those along then he will. He and Jake have talked about it, and they just have to wait it out.

“My dad is a plumber, I know what I’m doing…” Phoenix snaps, and Mav nods, backs away, she does indeed look like she knows what she’s doing. Fanboy and Payback have started unpacking the cabinetry and laying it out, while Coyote and Jake are discussing ropes and pulleys to lift the mattress up.

“Did you have to get a bed this big Maverick?” Coyote asks. “It’s not like you take up that much space…”

Bradley snorts, lets his eyes meet Jake’s who just smirks and licks over the toothpick in his mouth suggestively and Bradley rolls his eyes.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to son…” Maverick says, and then Coyote is spluttering and looking embarrassed and everyone is laughing.

… … …

He has sent a postcard every single day, glad that he can just slide them anonymously into the box on base near the administration block, not that he cares who knows, but he suspects Ice would prefer to keep things a little more private. Pete himself feels like yelling it from the top of the control tower every time he thinks about it, and he’ll tell Ice as much later, when he can commend Pete on his self-control and maturity in person.

They’ve somehow, without ever discussing it, separated their communications into two very distinct avenues. The messaging app where they’re both pretending they don’t know who they’re talking to, which he has come to appreciate for how open he can be there, like asking Ice to let him know that he’s arrived somewhere safely. Finding out how Ice feels without asking him directly. Except he is asking directly, but there is this thin veil of pretense they’re both letting hang between them. He’s started to like it, especially when Ice mentioned receiving the postcard, and how much he knew it meant to be receiving it. Pete hadn’t told him there would be another one waiting at his house for every day he’s been away. He wants it to be a surprise.

Right now they’re doing their almost regular night-time chat before Pete drops off to sleep.

>>What do you like about him?

>>Everything.

>>That’s not a proper answer.

Pete rolls his eyes and pulls a face, even though no one can see him, settles further into bed because he’s already fallen asleep once on the sofa and it had not been great for his back.

>>What do you like?

>>About your friend?

>>I asked you first.

>>But he makes my life brighter. I always look forward to seeing him, even when I’m tired or grumpy.

Pete snorts. If Ice is tired, then he’s grumpy, and vice versa. The fact that he looks forward to seeing Pete even when he’s feeling those things, that somehow his presence makes Ice feel better make him feel warm. Oh. Maybe Ice needs… reassurance or confirmation that Pete finds him… attractive? He’d rather do that in person. Surely Ice knows? Regardless Pete can make sure.

>>I do like everything about him.

>>He wouldn’t be my best friend if I didn’t genuinely enjoy his company. Respect him.

>>But there are things I love. Like his hands. They’re

>>They’re what?

>>Big. Capable. Clever. Elegant.

>>Oh.

Pete chews on his bottom lip, imagines Ice in his own bed, staring at his hands and imagining how Pete feels about them. Of course, he’s imagined quite a lot more about Ice’s hands, back when he was younger, before he very firmly locked the thoughts away so he wouldn’t ever act on them. Now of course is a different matter, knowing what he knows about Ice and their new relationship trajectory.

>>I love the way he smiles.

>>He doesn’t smile often enough but it makes it even better when he does.

… … …

Tom has never been so eager to get home. Most of his career one place has often been the same as another; while North Island has his sister and her family and Jake, with Mav close by when he’s not deployed, he’s never longed to be home as much as he does right now. It’s after nine at night, the porch light is the only light on, set on a timer. The taxi drops him off and Tom thanks the driver, walks up the path to his front door with weary steps. He’s tired and cold despite the warm spring night. He opens his front door and flicks off the porch light and the entryway light on, unlaces his shoes and places them on the rack; lets the familiarity of home wash over him.

He locks the door and turns the light off again, making his way through the house towards the stairs, his eyes adjusting to the muted-light from the street lamps outside, quietly heading toward his bedroom. His bedside light is on, beside it is a large glass of water and a stack of… postcards. Then he sees the little handwritten note, recognizes the writing as Maverick’s and finds himself smiling.

Have a shower. Drink some water. I turned your electric blanket on. Sleep well. See you tomorrow. - M

The gestures are all sweet and he wishes Mav was here himself, so he could curl up around him and fall asleep holding him. Of course he’s too tired for anything else, but… maybe tomorrow night. He hopes so, although considering he’s going out to the hangar he’s not going to hold his breath. The trailer might rock off its stands if they had sex too vigorously. Hell. What is he even thinking, they haven’t even shared a proper kiss yet.

>>Home safe. Tired.

>>Feeling very loved.

>>Good.

>>You are loved.

>>See you tomorrow night.

FIVE

#IceMav #From The Top #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #Top Gun fanfic

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tgmsunmontue · 1 month ago

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From the top 6/6

IceMav, Explicit, (background Hangster who are already established). Set post-TGM. (No dead Ice obviously).

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE

PART SIX

Ice is taller than him, but they’re equally broad and thick. Ice’s height only gives the illusion that he’s bigger. However hidden beneath is also a lot of coiled strength and Ice has never used it on him before, not like this. He finds himself boxed in against his workstation, the hard ridge of the bench digging into his back, Ice pressed against his front, his hands on both of Pete’s hips and holding him firmly in place. It makes his breathing quicken.

“Mav… Pete…”

Pete likes the way Ice says his name now, like he’s finally given himself permission to use Pete, and his voice sounds rough, broken, worshipful even. He angles his head and slides his mouth over Ice’s, reaches up to run has hands through his hair and hold him in place while Pete kisses him. Tom isn’t trying to move away though, is pressing back into him like he wants nothing more than to be in the same space that Pete is currently in.

“You done this before?” Pete asks, because it’s one thing to skirt around the subject through messages back and forth, Ice an expert at writing words and saying things without giving anything away. He’s never lied to him though and Pete knows he’s not about to start.

“Yes. Not in a long time though. Not with someone who… who matters to me.”

“Mmm. Yeah. Me too. Just… we don’t have to… just want to make you feel good.”

“Yeah, I know, I just… fuck. I’ve been thinking about it okay? Want… want you to…”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Bed’s not just there for decoration. Come on…”

Ice follows close behind him as they make their way up to his new bedroom, the one he’s refused to let him use. He turns toward Ice and reaches for his hand, urges him close even though there’s not more than inches between them. He’ll never admit it, but his hands feel shaky as he unbuttons Ice’s shirt, pushes it off his shoulders. Doesn’t think Ice notices because he’s intent on undressing Pete which is something he’s totally on board with. Ice kisses every part of his body as he takes the clothing off and when he shoves his underwear down he shouldn’t be surprised at the kiss Tom places on the head of his cock.

Then Ice is kissing him again and he wants to look and touch everywhere, have Ice’s hands all over him and he urges him toward the bed, wants to do exactly what they were doing this morning, but naked and with added orgasms. Fortunately Ice seems completely on board with his unspoken plan, shifting to lie on the bed on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches Pete move closer, knee walking up the bed a little awkwardly.

Ice’s skin is pale all over, no tan lines like Pete has himself, his career taking him inside. The hands though catch his eye, one wrapped around his cock as Ice strokes himself, eyes on Pete, intense in a way that he recognizes, that feeling of electricity zaps through him again.

“Come here…” Ice says, his voice rough and Pete almost falls on him in his eagerness to comply, catches himself with a grin, face inches away and he kisses him with a laugh.

“I’m here.”

He settles on his side, facing Ice, feels long fingers curl around his cock and he groans, hips jerking into the pressure. His own fingers trace along the length of Ice’s erection and he wraps his fingers and strokes before pulling back, reminded that he went out and bought supplies for exactly this reason.

“Lube?”

“Fancy…”

“Shut up…” Pete mutters playfully, and he doesn’t want to move away, because it’s going to mean Ice taking his hands off him and it’s taken years to get here.

“Get your lube… I’ve always just used lotion.”

“Mmm. Explains why your hands are nice and soft…”

That earns him an eye roll and a slight shove, but as he moves to grab the bottle he feels a hand grab his ass, fingers digging into the muscle and his cock jumps again. Then Ice is taking the lube from him, pumping some out into his palm, stroking himself, then reaching for Pete’s cock.

“Come here…” Ice repeats, and this time he’s already close, settles in close and slides their mouths together, feels Ice wrap his hand around them both, jerking them together, adjusting his grip a few times before he seems.

“God… your hands…” Pete moans against Ice’s mouth, whole body jerking toward him and he doesn’t miss the way Ice’s mouth twitches with amusement. They lie facing each other, thighs slotted together, eyes lingering, Ice’s hand wrapped around their cocks, breath intermingling and the air between them is warm and humid. They’re both shifting and grinding, into Tom’s hand, against each other, kissing spit-slick lips and licking over the delicate skin of each other’s necks, nipping at earlobes and to finally have this after weeks of knowing he can but years of denying it is overwhelming.

“Mav… Pete…”

“Yeah, yeah. Right here… fuck.”

… … …

Maverick is gorgeous. Tom’s always thought so. He can’t believe that his touch is not only wanted but is so clearly being enjoyed by Pete, his eyes dark with arousal, mouth hanging open like he can’t catch his breath and Tom bites at the hinge of his jaw, grips harder. Would worry that it’s too hard except for the hitch in Pete’s breath and jerk of his hips into the pressure. He’d been worried that they would be awkward with one another, that they’d maybe start off slower.

He should have known better. He’s dealing with Maverick, and it’s working in his favor, just jumping in feet-first with no care for the consequences. Or rather, so sure that the outcome is going to be a positive one. He’s quietly confident of that too, can’t imagine them slipping back into solely friendship now that they’ve introduced this into the equation. Ice. Tom. Close. God. Please. Faster. Just a little… please all panted against his neck and he shouldn’t be surprised that Mav likes it fast, his body almost vibrating against Tom’s as his hips jerk, thrust and twitch, shoving his cock into Tom’s grip.

He let’s go of them then, quickly grips Pete’s cock again, bites at his bottom lip as Mav whines at the brief cessation of pressure. But with only Pete’s cock in his hand he can go harder and faster and he shifts so it’s a bit more comfortable, his hand able to move more easily and he resumes the stroking, faster, his hand a blur and Pete’s breath is coming like he’s running, eyes now squeezed shut, bottom lip trembling and Tom doesn’t know where to look, what he wants to watch most.

“Come on Pete…” Tom breathes, his voice sounds rough and he feels the kick of Pete’s body, the sudden slick sensation of come on his fingers and he loosens his grip, feels Pete’s entire body shudder against him, breath coming in loud pants. He looks down between them, suddenly wants nothing more to come, wrap his hand covered in Pete’s come around his own cock so he does exactly that.

“Damn that’s a pretty sight…”

He groans, knowing that Pete is watching him, shifting to get a closer look; but then Pete is sucking one of his nipples into his mouth and Tom comes with a shout, shuddering through the intensity of it and very glad he’s already horizontal.

“Fuck…” he manages, and Pete is laughing against his chest and Tom ducks his head, bumps it against Pete’s. He looks up and then Tom can kiss him again and it’s sweeter. But he also feels sweaty, and sticky and Pete must be feeling the same.

“Did you upgrade the shower as well?”

Pete’s frozen and he has his answer right there, because a new kitchen and bed are great, but an inside shower is apparently a step too far.

“I’ll, uh, get on that right away…”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Tom says with a grin, and it’s a little bit of a relief knowing that despite everything that Mav is still Mav.

The outside shower isn’t bad, perfectly functional and the wooden screens offering enough privacy for them to shower together. Neither of them can stop smiling, laughter bubbling out occasionally and he feels lighter and happier than he has in years. They’re clean, dry, changed into comfortable clothes he’s glad he had the foresight to bring with him. Although he notes that an entire side of the dresser is filled with his own clothes and he wonders exactly when Pete stole them and relocated them here.

“Thought you were going to make me dinner or was that just a ploy to get me into bed?”

Pete snorts and bites playfully at his shoulder.

“No, I plan to cook… Penny gave me instructions.”

… … …

He feels Ice’s huff of breath and realizes mentioning one of his exes is probably a faux pas, but it’s Ice. He knows every embarrassing detail of his life and relationships, some that Pete himself has probably forgotten. Plus he knows Penny and Ice are friends as well. He moves around the kitchen, accepts the glass of wine the Ice pours him and Penny was right. It will take twenty minutes. Huh.

“We going to talk about it?” Ice asks and Pete turns from watching the potatoes going around in the air fryer. It’s kind of mesmerizing.

“About what?”

“How it took Jake and Bradley meddling for us… for us to…” Ice starts, hand waving between them, frown growing on his face at his apparent inability to find words. Pete grins, steps in close and wraps his arms around him.

“We’ll figure out a way to thank them.”

“Mmm. Okay.”

“That’s… that’s all you want to say?” Pete asks, because he’d sort of expected a far more detailed and in-depth conversation, something akin to a debrief.

“What else is there to say? Best possible outcome I can imagine.”

Oh.

“I love you,” Pete says, and he’s never going to get sick of seeing the small little smile that his words invoke on Ice’s face. He kisses him, sneaks his fingers under his t-shirt to stroke at bare skin.

“Love you too. Love you more if you actually feed me…”

As if on cue Ice’s stomach rumbles, making them both laugh. Pete shakes his head, gives him a little shove which is completely ineffective but he goes about finishing up making dinner. It’s exactly what he’s always wanted, the quiet companionship of someone who knows all his flaws and loves him anyway. They clean up together, have a quick game of chess where he limits Ice to ten seconds per move, and Ice still wins.

Then they’re preparing for bed, and it’s a different type of intimacy but not unfamiliar at all with their years of friendship between them. There are soft touches and lingering fingers, looks which cannot be construed as anything other than love and desire and yeah, he’s in love with his best friend and he loves him back.

… … …

He wakes up stiff. That’s not unusual these days, but he’s stiff in places that aren’t usually stiff and he groans at the discomfit. He opens his eyes to find Ice already awake, closing his book and looking at him with concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… just… my body isn’t used to the kind of workout we put it through last night.”

“Mmm. Mine either. Good mattress though. I already got up and stretched a little.”

“Yeah. Figured it was a good investment.”

“See. You can forward plan.”

He opens his mouth to object but Ice is grinning, reaching to pull him in for a kiss and yeah, that’s a much better option.

… … …

He is quietly content, happy in a way he hadn’t realized was even a thing. His relationship with Maverick feels… well. Somehow brand new and fragile, but also deep and foundational, integral to his very being. All they’ve really done is add sex to the mix, and he’s enjoying that plenty, refusing to dwell on years lost. He isn’t going to lose his future to past regrets.

His phone vibrates on his desk and he looks at the message, because it’s close enough to lunch that he’s sort of expecting Mav to be joining him, his presence in and around his office no longer questioned, which is probably just as well. Rather than a message from Maverick through their usual app it’s from the one that Jake set up, when he was pretending to be messaging Pete and not know exactly who it was he was talking with.

>>Please go outside and look up toward the northwest.

>>You have five minutes.

“Oh, for…” he grumbles, because this is giving him flashbacks to when Pete used to steal planes. Of course, now that he has his own he’s gotten better about that and he hopes Pete isn’t stupid enough to fly the Mustang into military airspace. He wonders why Pete has chosen to message him using that app, is thumbing out a message asking exactly that when he hears the hum of several planes approaching and he looks up to see five prop-planes.

Then they start releasing puffs of smoke and he realizes they’re sky typing, and he can already make out the first two letters and he has to remind himself to breathe. Wonders if Mav is up there in one of the planes. Wonders when the hell he learnt how to fucking sky type. Not that he’d put it past him, or is even surprised, because as the letters continue to appear he’s reminded that this type of over-the-top romantic gesture is exactly Maverick’s style.

MARRY ME?

“So… what do you say?”

Tom startles, turns toward the sound and Mav is kneeling, that can’t be good for his knees on the asphalt, there’s a ring in his hand and he’s holding it up, clearly waiting for Tom to answer.

“I think there’s no point in waiting. We know each other in all the best and worst ways. I can’t imagine anything better than being married to my best friend.”

Tom swallows, doesn’t trust himself to speak so he simply nods, knows Mav understands because he’s standing with only a slight wince, slipping the ring onto Tom’s finger and giving him a surprisingly quick and chaste kiss before pulling back. Then he hears the applause and he turns to see the entire personnel population from the building there watching, and now they’re applauding. He’s very grateful it was exactly the quick-soft kiss it was now, and he does his best to ignore Mav’s shit eating grin as people start coming forward to give them their congratulations. Of course they all know, Pete would have had to get clearance for such a grand gesture.

“Congratulations Tom. Now he’s your problem both professionally and personally.”

Tom laughs.

“He always was.”

#IceMav #From The Top #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #Top Gun fanfic

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