#dadt repealed

[pollyna]

One of Ice's favourite things after they repeal DADT is that he can kiss Mav when he laughs, head tilted back, and all his being seems to tell you he's happy. And Ice knows that if he can kiss him, he would taste pure, unadulterated, joy. He doesn't kiss Mav very often when they are in their uniform, but sometimes he closes the distance between them and kiss him, softly and slowly, and yeah, yeah, his mouth really tastes like joy and Ice can't help but laugh too.

[foreveraweirdoneslife]

oooohhhhh for the fanfic ask thingie, give me 6 and 32!

Ohh, thank you for the ask!! Here are my answers:

6. What's the last line you wrote?

I'll give you a bit more than just one line. This is from my upcoming DADT repeal fic.

“I know what an iPad is, Mav. I don’t live behind the moon,” Ice retorts sharply. “Just wanted to be sure. So what do you say?” Mav replies with a shrug, completely unimpressed with Ice snapping at him like this.

32. Do you take fic requests? Why or why not?

BIG YES!!! I do take fic requests!

Last month I wrote much less than the months before (mostly because life) but I think I'm slowly getting back at it and writing more again.

I'd generally take fic requests for anything icemav or hangster and I'd love to get more requests for my Californian Country Boys series which is hangster fics based on (country) songs!

So, yes, please fire away your fic requests if you have any!

[shxyerahol]

thinking about tommy kinnard working at the 118 when both don't ask, don't tell was repealed then same-sex marriage was legalized nationwide.

[the-fallen-blue]

We, as a queer community, really need to get better at teaching our history to our youngest members. Because you cannot go forward without knowing where you have been, because you cannot know what you have if you don't know what it cost, and because I never want to see another damn fic where a character who lived through the 80s and 90s in the military acts like Don't Ask, Don't Tell was some cruel oppressive assault on their rights that they hate and resent their superiors for.

[blazingstar29]

Show, Don't Tell.

Summary: It's only been a few months since the DADT repeal and Iceman and Maverick are figuring out their next moves as a couple.

Warnings: Military homophobia, DADT

By the time Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell is repealed, Maverick and Iceman have long since perfected their secret relationship. It’s so perfect that telling people seems more hard work, coming out seems just like more hard work. Besides the point Rear Admiral Kazansky simply knows too many people to do the whole coming out process, he’s quite frankly concerned about bringing Maverick to a formal event with his partner's knack for causing trouble. 

But hiding it feels wrong as well. Since 1987 they’ve hidden and hidden and hidden. Hiding now feels like shitting on the doorstep of those who didn’t make it to the repeal. So they compromise. Maverick doesn’t want to change his name and with Ice’s profile it would be impractical. What they do is stick framed photos on their desks. Which doesn’t immediately look odd considering the giant portrait on the carrier after the Layton mission in the foyer at base. 

Hondo catches sight of the photo frame on Maverick’s desk and gives the captain a raised eyebrow. Across the state Commander Simpson drops paperwork on Iceman’s desk. The framed photo of Iceman and Maverick is new. It’s not one of the official ones or traditional family photos that are common across personnel desks. This one is Iceman, blonde hair showing specks of grey as he tries to take a selfie like every middle aged man. Behind his shoulder is Maverick throwing a mock salute. They're on the beach. Simpson kicks himself out of his stupor before Kazansky can ask questions. 

Ice and Maverick don’t come out but they start to show up. 

There’s a gala, some formal event Ice definitely explained to Maverick who was definitely listening. Regardless, they’re suited and booted in their dress whites. Iceman was given the invite inclusive of a partner. Maverick isn’t invited to this event. It’s the first Navy event that they're going to as a couple, not officers. In the car Maverick scratches at his neck. 

“What if they try to kick me out, that I’m here just because you are?” He asks with an unusual tone of nervousness. He’s not a nervous man, just a man who gets nervous. 

Beside him, Ice shrugs. “If you walk in on my arm they might struggle to find the words.” 

It makes Maverick grin. 

And that’s what they do. Captain Pete Mitchell and Rear Admiral Kazanksy walk into the hired venue arm in arm. There’s no stunned silence of dropped champagne glasses. Slider, Maverick thanks his lucky stars, approaches them first with a grin like he knew the plan all along. 

“Maverick, I don’t remember seeing you on the invite list,” he jests. By this stage Mav and Ice have untangled themselves. 

He shrugs jovially, “and you still stink.” 

It’s juvenile. It’s normal. It calms everyone's nerves. 

No one actually asks questions until an unfamiliar man approaches them.

“Pete,” Ice introduces. “This is Rear Admiral Solomon Bates, Warlock.” 

Maverick nods in recognition before extending his hand. 

“Captain Mitchell,” Warlock assumes. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” 

He’s not hostile, Maverick thinks. Not if Ice is still standing so close. 

“I’m here with Tom,” he smiles. 

Warlock smiles back, settling the raging nausea in Maverick’s stomach. The older man stands side by side with them and leans closer without taking his eyes off of the crowd. 

“You know there’s a bet on the pair of you, right?” 

It’s news to Maverick but judging by Ice’s embarrassed clearing of the throat he knows all about it. 

“Sir?”

Warlock shrugs. “After the repeal everyone who’d been involved in some sort of speculation over the years made a bet on whether there’d be an official announcement.” He nods to Iceman. “Or a bold stunt.” This time he nods at Maverick. 

“Oh a stunt?” Maverick feigns innocence. “I’d never do anything so brazen.” 

You lost your qualifications as section leader three times, put in hack twice by me, with a history of high speed passes over five air control towers and one Admiral’s daughter!

What about a pass at a Rear Admiral, Maverick thinks looking at Iceman. That could turn heads. 

“No,” says Ice without even looking at Maverick. “Don’t even think of doing anything.”

“I’m not,” Maverick says earnestly. He’s not outing anyone, especially not his partner. “I’m not.” 

Ice looks at Warlock. “And which way did you bet?”

He shrugs. “I’m not telling you.”

They make polite conversation, drifting for forty minutes. No one asks why Maverick’s there, so he hopes the invite list wasn’t public. But things do come to a head shortly after the speeches. 

“There was nothing wrong with the policy.”

Ice over hears it before Maverick does, it gives him time to distract the man who is far more likely to run his mouth. He flags down Slider and it doesn’t take much encouragement for the two to become engrossed in Maverick’s recent test flights. This allows Ice to listen in, perhaps getting the general consensus on the repeal, maybe even a word in of his own. 

“Literally, it was don’t ask, don’t tell. You can still screw who you want just don’t come in shoving it in peoples face.” 

Ice is about to shift his attention back to Maverick when the two men having the delightful conversation spot him. 

“Kazansky,” one calls. 

Jesus it’s Ben Corlas, he realises with disdain, and Henry Bishop. 

“Tom,” Ben waves him over. He lowers his voice. “Anything changed your way with the repeal?” 

Ice swallows.

“After the repeal everyone who’d been involved in some sort of speculation over the years made a bet on whether there’d be an official announcement. Or a bold stunt.”

“Yes it has,” he says slowly, perhaps a bit too loudly. Fuck. “It now means that every time I go to work, sit in my office, eat at the mess hall, everywhere I turn I can parade my partner around and shove it in everyone's faces.” 

Ben and Alex’s faces blanche, they’ve been caught. 

“You’d be familiar with that,” Ice continues. “I’d parade him around the same way you paraded your affair when you got caught with other women.” 

Without another word Ice turns away. Ah, he’d been caught as well. Maverick’s jaw is slack and his eyes wide. Slider looks caught been murderous and seconds away from fits of laughter. As he rejoins them he shoots both men a glance. 

“We still have to play civilised officers for another two hours, shut your mouths,” he hisses. All three of them return to their more dignified postures. Warlock exchanging money with one Rear Admiral Simpson does not fail to catch Iceman’s eye. 

[princesssarcastia]

Chapter 2 is up!

Summary:

Man hands on misery to man.

Or: The Kazansky kids (plus Bradley Bradshaw) and life as children of polyamorous divorce.

It's 2010, and the Senate, the DOD, the Joint Chiefs, the President, and all and sundry are debating whether to finally repeal Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

Sofia Kazansky, watching all of this unfold, has a question for her mother.

Excerpt:

It takes Sofia all afternoon to ask the question; it sits in the back of her throat like gorge till she can’t help but spit it out. School is where she heard about this in the first place. Heard some of her classmates talking about this like it’s a game, or like it’s sickening, or like it doesn’t matter. Talk, talk, talk. All Sofia could do was sit there and listen and hope the pit of dread that opened up in her stomach wasn’t written all over her face.

[astramthetaprime]

They just keep falling out

This one is short and sweet and I was ugly-crying while writing it.  

The Answer is Yes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44699827

[swantales-aw0owo0]

Just a little something I’ve been cooking (attempting to write a secretly married hangster fic so I figured out an entire timeline pre-Tg:m cause the timeline is kinda fucked in the movies)

Bradley is born in ‘84 (June 27)

Jake is born in ‘87 (January 3)

Top gun takes place in ‘86

Carole dies in ‘96 (Bradley moves in with Ice and Mav)(he’s 12)

Bradley’s papers are pulled, he begins to attend UCSD (University of California San Diego), and he stops talking to Mav in ‘02

(College in the fall of ‘02)

Jake, Javy, and Natasha all attend the US Naval Academy in Annapolis together. Jake and Javy bunk together and become fast friends/brothers. Nat becomes friends with Javy but can’t get past Jake’s persona to get along with him. ‘05

Bradley graduates with a bachelor’s degree in PoliSci and a minor in History spring of ‘06

Bradley and Jake meet in the summer of ‘06 right before Bradley goes to flight school and after Jake’s first year at the Naval Academy in Annapolis.

Bradley then goes to Pensacola for 18 months (‘06-‘07) continuing to meet up with Jake whenever possible

Bradley gets stationed at the Naval Base San Diego from ‘07-‘08

Bradley is invited to and wins Top Gun in ‘08 before being sent to the Naval Air Station Jacksonville

Jake, Javy, and Nat all graduate from the Naval Academy in ‘08 and then spend 18 months in Pensacola for flight school (‘08-‘09)

Javy and Jake are stationed together

Nat gets stationed with Bradley who’s heard his boyfriend (husband) complaining about her and befriends her.

Jake, Javy, and Nat all attend Top Gun together in ‘09 and Bradley is sent back to NAS San Diego. This is when Nat finds out about their relationship. Jake scrapes a win at top gun, very closely followed by Nat then Javy.

December 18 ‘10 DADT is repealed

They fly up to Vermont to get married in a courthouse and then “honeymoon” in NY December 21 ‘11 after taking time off for Christmas. Javy and Nat attend as their best man/woman and witnesses

The four get stationed on the USS. George Washington where the “rivalry” between Jake and Bradley is established from their banter over comms and on the carrier. They spend 18 months there before they’re all split up. (‘11-‘12)

Over the next 8 years the four are moved around occasionally stationed with each other. Jake and Bradley have a house together in Cali (Bradley’s parents house) for any free time they have.

From ‘20 onward Jake is flying with the Vigilantes out of Lemoore and Bradley is on board the USS Theodore Roosevelt flying with the Golden Warriors.

‘22 TG:M (Bradley is 38, Jake is 35, Mav is 60)

I spent a long time on the logistics of years and math so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t <3

[romcomxb]

Yeah i feel like icemav wouldn't use the term boyfriend

They're definitely more likely to use "partner"

oh fuck yeah, they would-

man that fits so much better though

nonny, thank you, i will now be editing my wip to use this :]

imagine once DADT gets repealed, ice is talking to some of his higher ups/fellow admirals, and he mentions his partner. no one thinks much of it, just assuming he’s talking about a girlfriend, then he pulls mav over and introduces him as ‘my partner’ - imagine the looks on their faces

[katewritesss]

Headcanon:

After the suicide mission and they all come back home safely and Bradley has made up with his dads, Maverick and Ice decide to renew their vows, because they've never had a close call such as this.

As a joke - but not really - Ice asks Maverick if there's anyone he could go to ask permission to marry him, even if he already went to Goose and Carole's graves to ask that very question when DADT was first repealed.

From where they're sitting on their couch, limbs intertwined and faces mere inches from each other, Maverick pulls away enough so that their noses brush and says, in all seriousness;

"Well, why don't we ask..."

"The kids?" they finish together.

It's all the approval they need.

[pollyna]

Mav put their fist gas bill in a frame and takes it to every new office he changes, and over the years they're a lot.

To a superficial eye it doesn't make any sense but the heading says "Thomas J. and Pete Kazansky-Mitchell" and, as he likes to explain ti everyone, that's the first everything we received with both our names on and our surnames hypernated. The stamp is from January 2012 and makes Pete's eyes a little wet.

[queenofmoons67]

The Surface Officers’ Spouses’ Club: An IceMav Fic

Summary: Maverick is a captain in his own right, but he’s also an admiral’s spouse. Or, five times someone else calls Maverick “Admiral Kazansky’s husband/spouse,” and the one time Maverick refers to himself as such.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Notes: Back in October / November 2023, I asked which of my Top Gun ideas I should write next, and a solid third of you chose this one! I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

This fic takes place shortly after DADT was repealed in 2010/2011.

Maverick is a captain. At the beginning of the fic, Ice is a two-star admiral / Rear Admiral, Upper Half.

Fanfic!

The first time someone addressed Maverick as “Admiral Kazansky’s husband,” he flushed red, but slipped his hand into Ice’s and squeezed. They had only been married for a month—only even been out as a couple for the two months since DADT was overturned—and it still thrilled Maverick to be able to claim Ice as his own, and to be claimed in return.

They were in love, and they could tell the whole world. The only thing Maverick wanted more was Bradley back in his life.

The second time someone addressed Maverick as “Admiral Kazansky’s husband,” he frowned, and purposefully straightened the collar of his uniform so his silver captain’s eagle caught the light. This was Captain Mitchell’s meeting, and Captain Mitchell had been a captain long before he became an admiral’s husband.

The third time someone addressed Maverick as “Admiral Kazansky’s husband,” she didn’t use the word “husband.” She came up to him in the commissary, a lipstick-red smile across a lightly sun-tanned face, blonde bob just brushing her cheeks, and said, “Hi! You’re Admiral Kazansky’s spouse, right?”

Maverick paused, and lowered his hand from where he’d been reaching for the dinosaur egg oatmeal—Bradley’s favorite, and the only kind Maverick himself could eat now after having it for years.

“That’s me,” he said, though the words came slowly. ‘Navy spouse,’ he thought, implied someone like the woman before him, left behind lamenting their husband’s deployments. Someone like Carole, who had been raising Bradley mostly on her own even before Goose died.

‘Navy spouse’ did not mean someone like Maverick, who went on deployments himself more than Ice did now.

Maverick had never been good at hiding his emotions, so his hesitation must have shown, but the woman didn’t seem deterred. Instead, her smile widened.

“Excellent! I’ve been trying to find you to ask if you’d be interested in joining the Point Loma Surface Officers’ Spouses’ Club? My name is Melissa Royce, I’m Captain Royce’s spouse, and we—”

“I’m sorry,” Maverick interrupted. “I think you have the wrong idea. I am married to Admiral Kazansky, but I’m a captain, too. I wouldn’t…”

Maverick trailed off, hands waving to try and communicate what he wouldn’t be. Belong, in a group of spouses? Know what to do, amongst a group of people who had all given up their own ambitions to support their husbands, while Maverick gave Ice more trouble than he was worth?

Melissa’s smile grew smaller, but she reached out and patted him on the arm. “Honey, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. You wouldn’t be the only officer in the group; lots of us are two-officer pairs, though heaven knows I don’t know how you do it.

“But beyond that…” She arched one eyebrow. “This is a support group, honey. For us, and for the base. How do you think it stays standing when all the sailors are deployed? How do you think it stays standing when you’re all here?”

Maverick stared at her. Somehow, he thought the protest that he was an aviator, not a sailor, would just prove her point. It hadn’t been so long since he was a young lieutenant that he’d forgotten the havoc they could wreck on shore leave.

And if Melissa really meant it, that ‘spouses’ could include ‘officers’… What did Maverick have to lose?

“When’s the next meeting?” he asked.

<line break>

Maverick eased open the door to the community room, situated on the second floor of a building that also housed the base’s library, after school childcare, and a general store. It was a bit of an “everything building,” Melissa had explained, and the Point Loma Surface Officers’ Spouses’ Club—also known as PLSOSC, because apparently even Navy spouses loved their acronyms—booked the community room once a week, every Saturday morning.

Saturday, she had said, because those with kids could rely on spouses or babysitters, and those with jobs had a better chance of making the meeting on the weekend than during the work week. Mornings, she had said, because nothing got ideas flowing like free coffee and a bunch of gossipmongers.

She hadn’t specified what “ideas” they needed to come up with. Hadn’t specified much of anything beyond when and where, and that he “just needed to bring his handsome face; it’s not a potluck!”

So there Maverick was. Empty-handed, handsome face freshly shaved, handsome husband abandoned in bed on a Saturday morning, when normally they’d be taking the chance to sleep in together.

Ice hadn’t been happy about that, his hands reaching out as Maverick left the bed, lips pouting and cheeks puffed out, though he’d perked up a bit when he heard what Maverick’s plans were.

“I’m glad you’re making new friends,” he had said, even as the perpetually cold-blooded admiral curled his hands back into the comforter and tucked it under his own chin.

Maverick… wasn’t as sure that “making new friends” was what he was doing. He also wasn’t sure if it was going to be worth leaving Ice alone like that.

But he’d told Melissa he’d try it, so here he was; Maverick regularly flew upside down, just because he could… He could handle a bunch of Navy spouses.

Although, even just opening the door and immediately being bombarded with loud voices had him second-guessing that ability.

One voice rose above them all.

“Pete!” Melissa called. “Everyone, this is Captain Pete Mitchell, Admiral Kazansky’s spouse. Pete, this is everyone!”

Melissa waved at the crowd, and Maverick shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked forward, taking the room in.

Folding tables had been put away against the walls, but the chairs were all out, accommodating about twenty people sitting in a circle. Several of them had clipboards out, pens poised over paper already half-filled with ink.

“Come in, come in!” Melissa beckoned. “There’s an empty seat right by Bryan.”

A middle-aged man with cool, dark brown skin nodded at Maverick, his longer-than-Navy-regulation black locs swaying with the motion.

The woman on the other side of the empty seat, brown hair sheered short in a buzzcut over pale white skin, snorted under her breath, “Melissa is not subtle.”

“Shut up,” Bryan laugh-whispered. “She’s doing her best.”

“She’s making a point,” the woman replied, and offered her hand to Maverick. “Hi, I’m Lieutenant Emily Brock. Stationed with Submarine Squadron 11. My wife is a THIRD Fleet officer.”

Maverick shook her hand, then shook Bryan’s when he offered, too. “Bryan Matthews, civilian,” Bryan said. “My wife is also with THIRD Fleet.”

“Captain Pete Mitchell,” Maverick said, grinning a bit at the realization Melissa had put him in-between another officer-spouse and a male-spouse. “You can just call me ‘Maverick’ though. And my husband is, uh—”

“Admiral Kazansky,” Bryan and Emily finished. They both laughed, and Emily gave Maverick a friendly nudge with her elbow. “Hope you stick around, if only so I can tease Becca I’ve got an in with her boss.”

The wife, Bryan mouthed, and Maverick nodded back.

“Is Becca here too?” he asked.

Emily shook her head. “Nah, submariner spouses have their own group. So do aviators—your husband will probably get an invite there soon, if he hasn’t already.”

Maverick blinked. He hadn’t even considered if Ice belonged in a group like this. He was Rear Admiral Thomas “The Iceman” Kazansky, rising star of the US Navy, on-track to be COMPACFLT someday. He wasn’t like Maverick, desperately holding onto the captain position with both hands while trying not to be discharged or promoted.

But if Captain Mitchell qualified as a Navy spouse because he married Admiral Kazansky… then wasn’t the reverse also true? That Admiral Kazansky was a Navy spouse because he married Captain Mitchell?

“Huh.” Maverick leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and tuning back into the conversation and atmosphere around them.

Melissa was certainly a leader amongst them, which made sense; Captain Royce, while lower in rank than Ice, was the CO of Point Loma itself. But none of the spouses were shy about barking ideas to the people with clipboards. Several people had broken off into smaller groups, like Bryan, Emily, and Maverick, while others moved from group to group. Others still congregated at the one table that was set-up with—Maverick sniffed—coffee.

Most people wore comfortable clothes, just jeans and t-shirts, and others wore uniforms. Some people drifted in, and others drifted out. The room was a constant flow of movement and ideas.

“So… what exactly are we supposed to be doing?” he asked, turning back to Bryan and Emily.

“Gossiping,” Emily said.

“Brainstorming,” Bryan said.

Maverick looked between them, eyebrow raised.

“Brainstorming,” Emily said.

“Gossiping,” Bryan said.

<line break>

The answer, Maverick found, was both. PLSOSC focused on building a community out of people who were often in Point Loma for only a few years, or even just a few months, at a time. That meant people were welcome to just chat and catch up, but they could also throw out ideas for trips off-base, donation drives, dinner parties—anything and everything a group of adults could do together.

And it wasn’t just PLSOSC, named the Point Loma Surface club for a reason. Emily had been right: Ice received his own invitation to the Point Loma Aviator Officers’ Spouses’ Club, or PLAOSC, and came back from the first meeting with tears in his eyes from all the funny stories the other spouses had heard second-hand about Mav.

“‘Captain Mitchell’s spouse!’” Ice gasped, voice high in a falsetto. “‘Oh, I must know, did he really moon an admiral in o-eight?’”

“‘Why yes,’” Ice answered himself, voice dropped even deeper than his natural tone, “‘but the admiral in question was his boyfriend, and they were in a locker room, so it was only natural.’”

Maverick almost broke a rib, he laughed so hard at Ice’s retelling.

In joining the two groups, Maverick also knew that he and Ice had had an entire world opened before their eyes. They had known every inch of aircraft carriers in the past, all the docks and offices, runways and classrooms, everywhere a Navy aviator might go.

Now, they also knew what happened behind-the-scenes: The stories that spouses whispered to each other about visiting officers, the stories they told about Point Loma’s own officers, and even the stories they told about Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell. They’d been able to get ahead of more than one potentially bad rumor because Melissa whispered it in Maverick’s ear before anyone else’s, or because someone told Ice what the latest story was.

“Admiral Kazansky’s spouse,” Ice would sing as he opened the door to their home, “just what have you been up to?”

“Only the usual, Captain Mitchell’s spouse,” Maverick would respond, leaning his head backwards over the arm of the couch to look at Ice. “Buzzing towers and mooning admirals.”

“But only one admiral, right?” Ice would whisper, leaning down, and Maverick would whisper back, “Right,” as he returned his husband’s kiss.

No matter where they were stationed, there was an Officers’ Spouses’ Club waiting for them: Gossip, community, and all.

There was even one at TOPGUN.

<line break>

Rooster had to admit, being back in California and living in his childhood home was a lot less stressful the second time around, now that he had a huge successful mission under his belt, half a dozen new friends, a dozen solidified old friendships, and a renewed relationship with his godfather and uncle.

Leaning back in his chair, the rubber back-straps squeaking, Rooster popped the last of his tater tots in his mouth. It was fall, but being on the California coast meant the morning was both heated by the sun and cooled by the ocean breeze—the perfect combo for a squadron brunch on a diner patio.

The squad did tend to take up the entire patio, leaving no room for anyone else, but the seats were filled, so the owners didn’t mind.

Rooster hummed under his breath and tapped a beat on the table with his fingers, grinning at Phoenix when she raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” he laughed. “It’s a good morning.”

She shook her head. “You’re so like Mav.” Her eyes slid past him, and Rooster sat up, twisting to see—

Maverick, chair creaking on the back two legs, fingers tapping along the table edge, grinning at Ice and shaking his head. The admiral was probably trying to get Maverick back on all four chair legs again; Rooster wished him luck. Only his mom had ever been able to get Maverick to sit properly, and only then when he had Bradley himself in his lap.

Rooster stood at the thought, a grin already forming.

“Watch this,” he told Phoenix, and strode over to Maverick.

“Hey, Mav,” he said, faux casual, and dropped his butt in Maverick’s lap like he was five years old again.

Being a few decades older than that, of course, his weight pulled Maverick’s chair back down to earth, Maverick squawking under the sudden pressure and Ice barking a laugh, raspy from his recent bad cold, but his humor clear.

Around them, the daggers broke out laughing as well. Maverick groaned, but wrapped his arms around Rooster’s waist.

“You can just ask, Gosling,” Maverick cooed.

Rooster froze, stomach twisting with a bad feeling. The gleeful look on Phoenix’s face—even more than when Rooster had first sat in Maverick’s lap—only made the bad feeling grow.

“Ice, look what—Oh, hey guys! What are you doing here?”

Rooster blinked. A group of people had been walking down the sidewalk, but had come to a stop right in front of the diner. Right in front of Maverick and Ice’s table, actually.

An older Black man with a short, graying afro grinned at them. “You’re the one who recommended this place, Mav,” he said. “Didn’t say the patio would be off limits, though!”

Maverick laughed. “Sorry ‘bout that, Bryan. It’s kind of turned into our Sunday morning hangout spot.” His hand patted Rooster’s knee, and Rooster stood, suddenly realizing that he had been sitting on his godfather’s lap still.

Bryan shook his head. “It’s all fine. We’ll find a spot inside.” His gaze turned to Rooster, brown eyes piercing. “Bradley, right? Nice to meet you. You’ll have to come to one of our family events sometime.”

Rooster swallowed. He’d never introduced himself to Bryan, but he’d known his name—and not just his callsign.

“Ooh, that’s a great idea!” Maverick agreed. “Don’t have any on the calendar right now though, right? We’ll have to talk next Saturday.”

“Are you coming then, Mav?” One of the people behind Bryan leaned forward, eyes lit up. “You’ve missed the last ones!”

“He’s been busy, Cheryl,” another woman hissed, poking the first in the side.

Cheryl pouted, but Maverick just laughed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

Rooster slid back over to Phoenix as the group walked through the patio and into the diner, each person saying hi to Mav, and some to Ice as well.

“Was I just threatened?” he hissed in her ear.

“Nah,” she replied. He relaxed, and then—“Well, maybe a little. Don’t hurt Mav again, though, and you’ll be alright.” She patted his side, laughing.

Rooster backed away slowly as Halo pulled her into conversation, naturally ending up by Maverick and Ice again.

“What was all that about?” he asked.

“Huh?” Maverick paused mid-sentence to Ice, looking up at Rooster instead. “Oh, that was the TOPGUN Surface Officers’ Spouses’ Club.” He paused, then added, “Which I’m part of. Because I’m this guy’s spouse.” He poked Ice in the arm, and Ice rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” Ice sighed. “‘This guy’s’ spouse.”

Maverick laughed. “Well, everyone else says I’m Admiral Kazansky’s spouse. But I just call him Ice.”

Maverick leaned across the small table, meeting Ice halfway in a chaste kiss, and Rooster turned on the spot, hurrying back to Phoenix.

“I’m going to puke,” he hissed at her, and she grinned at him, eyes crinkled and wicked.

“You’re the one who engaged the lovebirds.”

“My mistake,” Rooster sighed, but smiled when he glanced back to see Maverick and Ice holding hands.

Yeah. Life was pretty great.

<end fic>

Thank you all for reading! Please leave a comment and/or reblog if you enjoyed the story; it'll serve as fuel for more fic writing!

[wearerandomlyyours]

Iceman and Maverick can never go to Pride, because they'd come home with 100 new kids.

(Just kidding, they've gone every year since the DADT repeal wearing 'Free Dad Hugs' shirts)

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 5/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

                “I don’t like wine.”

                “I don’t care. You need to learn the flavors. What it can add to food. Which ones might go better with certain dishes.”

                “Oh.”

                So he sits, and is made to try a variety of reds and whites and then have them with certain dishes and okay, there are some he doesn’t hate, but it still wouldn’t be his first choice. He can tell that some of the food tastes better when drunk with different wines, and vice versa. Then he’s dragged along to the family vineyard, taught about the pruning and pressing, the inclusion of the skins of the grapes and the fungus that can make them sweet and he’s equal parts fascinated and horrified.

…            …            …

                He’s lying in the bed, coming down from the high and Bradley can’t wipe the grin from his face. Orgasms always put him in a good mood, doubly-so when they involve someone else. It’s why those he works with are so often telling him he needs to go out and get fucked. God, the endorphin high is something else. Jake seems equally pleased with their time together so far, in no rush to leave, his lips and fingers tracing paths over Bradley’s cooling skin which has been half-heartedly wiped clean of both their come using Bradley’s shirt. He’s warm and drowsy but also contemplating suggesting a shower, both to get clean but also to wake himself up. He can sleep when he doesn’t have an attractive man in his bed.

                “Did you know you were my first kiss with a guy?”

                Bradley startles a little, opens his eyes to find Jake peering at him with mischievous eyes and he’s so fucking unfairly gorgeous, even in the waning evening light.

                “What?”

                “Yeah. First kiss. Was great but it freaked me out. Kind of why I ran.”

                “Okay…” Bradley says, and he really doesn’t know what to do with this information. Huh. He knows DADT was repealed in 2011, and now thinking back to 2008 then he supposes there was more than one reason for Jake to run. He’s not running now though.

                “Yeah. I mean, it was almost ten years ago. I wasn’t hanging around waiting for you or anything. But, uh, it was… formative.”

                “Formative huh?” Bradley asks, shifting a little and grinning, is enjoying the fact that Jake can’t seem to stop touching him.

                “Well, I did think European guys were much hotter than American guys, but it turns out you’re American after all…”

                “Disappointed?” Bradley asks, a little worried what the answer might be. He’s had it happen before, guys think he’s one thing and then found out the almost opposite is true. Not always with regards to his nationality, but his personality and how he’s sometimes portrayed on screen. Sure, he has a temper and he lets it get the best of him in the kitchen sometimes, but it’s never translated to the bedroom. Ever. If anything the opposite is true. Not that he needs to get into that with Jake.

                “Do I seem disappointed?”

                “Don’t answer a question with a question.”

                “Baby, I am definitely not disappointed in any way…” Jake says, and his kiss is slow and purposeful, his body bracketing Bradley against the bed, pushing him down and it’s exactly where he likes to be and he lets out a moan of approval or appreciation. Regardless Jake takes it for the encouragement it is and rolls his hips, creating friction between them despite the fact that their bodies are almost flush with one another from thigh to chest.

                “You have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?”

                “Nope. On leave remember. Only my sisters and they know where I am…” Jake says, giving Bradley a slow up-and-down look and slow smirk which has him laughing.

                “Yeah? You want to stay the night?”

                “We trying for round two?”

                “Seven course degustation menu…” Bradley jokes, flexing his own hips to add to the building friction.

                “What’s that?”

                “Seven rounds…” Bradley says, which he knows is impossible, however –

                “Well, I always did like a challenge.”

                Bradley throws his head back and laughs.

…            …            …

                Jake sends a quick message to his sisters to let them know not to expect him home, even though it’s late he knows one of them will be waiting up for him. God he’s glad they have no idea the type of shit he gets up to at work. They’d never fucking sleep with worry. He knows they don’t particularly like that he’s in the service, but they’ve always been nothing but supportive of his life choices, even when they’ve had to give up on some of their own he’s always been allowed to follow his dreams. He’s the baby of their family and he totally leans into it, taking advantage of the fact that all his sisters have soft spots for him. Letting them know he’s safe right now is the least he can do.

                Safe physically at least. A little part of him worries that maybe staying isn’t the wisest course of action, that the fantasy he’d created in his mind around Leo is never going to stand up to close inspection. The sex so far has been superb, and he’s already shifted him from being Italian in his head to American, but sleeping has always felt like an even more intimate act to him. Sharing the little before-bed routines a person might have.

                At least Leo wants to have some type of mystery, has closed the door to the ensuite very firmly, the lock sliding home and Jake bites back a grin, remembering hook-ups taking a piss in front of him. He doesn’t have a problem with bodily functions, but he also doesn’t mind the build-up to that level of familiarity. He sobers then, realizes that he and Leo aren’t likely to build up to anything given Jake’s profession and Leo’s job, which he has to admit he doesn’t really understand why he’s travelling for work when his work is making food for people. Ah well, he can ask more about it later.

…            …            …

                He wakes up to the smell of bacon and eggs, along with coffee and he stretches, disappointed to find the bed empty even if it maybe explains the reason for the smells. He wonders if he should brave going out to the kitchen, given that he doesn’t exactly have clean clothes. Plus there’s the risk of running into the other people who are staying here. And if Bradley is planning on bringing him breakfast in bed then who is Jake to stop him? He settles back and scrolls through his phone and answers a few messages and sends a couple of photos from his last week into various group chats.

                “Hey, morning…You’re awake.”

                “Morning. I’m an early riser.”

                “Not as early as me…” Leo says, and he’s sliding a tray onto the bedside table and Jake goggles at it. There’s the bacon and eggs he could smell, but there are also sausages and grilled tomatoes, then some golden and crunchy-looking thing which he’s hoping is some form of potato. There’s four slices of bread and little pats of butter slowly melting on them, then another dish of what look like mushrooms which he can tell were cooked in garlic judging from the smell.

                “Holy shit, how much do you think I eat?”

                “Well, it’s my first chance to cook for you, so I had to pull out a few stops. Plus you need to keep up your energy…” Leo says, sitting on the bed and leaning forward to give him a kiss.

                “Do I now?” Jake asks, and he hadn’t planned on spending the day in bed but it’s not like he has anywhere else he has to be.

                “Uh huh. I did make that for both of us though…”

                “Thank fuck… Do you have any sauce?”

                Leo blinks at him, frowns and then shakes his head.

                “No. Here, let me make a perfect mouthful…”

                Jake raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk.

                “Just a mouthful huh?” Jake asks, and Leo looks at him with a slightly confused look before he’s flushing bright red and ducking, his head shaking.

                “Jesus you’re incorrigible.”

                “Well, if you’re going to sit there looking like that and offering to feed me I’m definitely going to get ideas.”

                He barely catches the roll of eyes but Leo busies himself making a little forkful of food that includes some of the golden-crunchy potato, along with some of the tomato and a sausage piece and Jake really does prefer things with sauce, but he opens his mouth obligingly, meeting Leo’s eyes and doesn’t miss the way his eyes drop to Jake’s lips which are wrapped around the tines of the fork.

                “Mmm…” Jake says, and he chews thoughtfully. It does taste good, and he’s looking forward to having more. “It’s delicious.”

                “Good…”

                “Could use a little sauce though.”

PART SIX

[film-in-my-soul]

Hey!! For the a ship, a trope, a sentence ask game: How about Icemav - accidental secret realtionship with "you guys walked in on us in the locker room, more than once, how did you not know?"

Maverick is nervous. He knows, realistically, that he shouldn't be. DADT had been repealed, Slider did a whole coming out thing for his niece the year before, hell, Maverick's seen Wolf with his hands down Holly's pants. But still, this is different. This clarifies that what he's got with Ice is here to stay, not a relative (well-loved as she is) or a hook-up when it's easy.

A hand slots into Maverick's, a body saddling up next to his in the bar booth. The hand is large, familiar, and heavier with the weight of the ring he'd slipped down Ice's fourth finger without complaint. It slides away just as quickly, old habits worn into the other man, but Maverick doesn't complain, not when Ice puts that same hand on Maverick's thigh.

"Could feel your leg shaking all the way from the door."

Maverick scoffs. "Sure you could."

Ice knocks their shoulders together and doesn't leave space between them when he settles again. It makes Maverick smile, opening his mouth to tease again when Slider's loud and unmistakable voice draws his attention.

"Alright, break it up, love birds," he slides into the space across from them, Hollywood hot on his heels.

"Where's Wolf?"

Slider rolls his eyes, and Hollywood winces.

"Might have accidentally told him the wrong day. He and Cindy took the kids to dinner."

Maverick kicks the other man under the table and doesn't look sorry when Hollywood yelps. All his previous nerves slip, and he pushes menus towards the new arrivals, waiting until their food's put in and they have drinks to try and broach why he and Ice have gathered them.

When he can't manage, picking at the corner of his bottle, Slider sighs.

"Alright, you two gonna tell us what this is all about? Cause if I gotta learn Maverick knocked up some Admiral's daughter, I'm making you pay my part of the bill."

And somehow, Slider's ability to shit talk right through a thick atmosphere has Maverick's tongue loosening.

"Ice and I are gettin' hitched." He doesn't even need to drag Ice's hand out with the simple silver engagement band, the man at his side doing it himself with a raised brow like he's daring either of the other men to say something about it.

They don't, though arguably it's worse than if they had. Hollywood spits out the beer he'd been sipping, and Slider's jaw drops damn near to the table.

"You-"

"I'm sorry, what-"

"When the hell did all this happen?" Slider settles on, waving a hand between Maverick and Ice. It makes Maverick's brows furrow, but Ice drops his arm over his shoulder, too, so what minor irritation had been forcing that expression smooths out, leaving only blatant confusion.

"What the hell do you mean?" There's a bit to Maverick's tone.

"Hey," Holly says, finally done choking, "it's not that we're not happy for you guys, hell yeah, marriage and all that, but... just... isn't it a bit fast?"

It's Maverick's turn for his mouth to slacken. He'd say they're fucking with them, but honestly, Hollywood's a shit liar, and Slider would have made some crack about them being married already.

"Are you both saying you didn't know?" Ice asks, drawing Maverick's eyes to him. He's unsurprised to see an equal amount of surprise pinching Ice's lips into a downturned line.

"I mean... we haven't seen you both in a while." Slider hedges, shrugging, and Maveirk's had just about enough. He throws up his hands.

"We've been together since '92!" comes his exclamation, "You guys walked in on us in the locker room more than once. How did you not know?"

Slider is the one who chokes this time, and Hollywood, flush high on his cheeks, probably remembering something he ought to have forgotten grimaces.

"Whoops?"

Maverick feels even less bad slamming the toe of his boots into the other man's calf a second time.

What a bunch of idiots.

[marisatomay]

Cooking something about the possible correlation between the American public Overton window shifting on LGBTQ rights and federal policy changes like the repeal of both Lawrence and DADT and the Obergefell ruling and the decrease in sexuality and sensuality in Hollywood movies over the last 20ish years