#ice is done with mavs shit

[embersareout9]

"I want to BE one with the plane. Not just fly it, feel it's every move. Hear the roar of the Tomcat's engine deep within my soul. I want to BREATH the fumes of the fuel, let the power sink into my blood. I want to own this flying memory " -- Maverick, Probably.

Ice, done with this shit: "No Mav, I'm not letting you keep the damn F-14 that you crashed."

[topgunruinedme]

I'M LOSING IT (FOR YOU)

Summery:

Having been giving the chance to move all the way from his hometown out to Miramar, with the chance to work under his idol in his dream position, he hasn’t hesitated. Thomas Kazansky, the Iceman, one of the most respected and most renowned sole weapon maker in the country, having the only known contract with the Navy to date, manufacturing their new age multimillion dollar aircrafts. Sure he was stuck running around the office, grabbing coffees and managing Ice’s calendar to ensure the man got home at a reasonable time, like a desk jockey. But who would want anything more? However, three years later, he hasn’t expected all of that threatened by a pretty face with emerald, green eyes. But once the press caught a whiff of something they became hound dogs, and before they knew it there was a scandal. Iceman was dating Maverick, a green-eyed menace of a man who worked with them as a contractor within the Navy, the Captain who accompanied them at events and kept their funding flowing. The only issue is Iceman being labelled as gay was not good for business, especially not with the bigoted DADT pushing clientele they hold. Issue One: Iceman wanted him to pretend to be in a relationship with the Captain. Issue Two: Mitchell was actually a smooth bastard when he wanted to be, and he might be falling for him. Issue Three: Mitchell was actually Kazansky’s husband.

“Im sorry you want me to do what?” “I want you to date Pete, until this all goes down” “Mitchell. Pete Mitchell. Your husband”  “Yes” “Cool. Cool. Cool, just making sure we’re on the same page. No, my answers No” “I’m your boss” “No you’re insane. I’m your assistant, and I don’t even like Mitchell”

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandom: Top Gun (Movies)

Word count: Aprox. 4K

Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell/Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky & Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell & Beau "Cyclone" Simpson

Characters: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Chester "Hammer" Cain, Darran "Copper" Wendle

Additional Tags:

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hidden Relationship, Forbidden Love, Throuple, Mention of Don't Ask Don't Tell, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Homophobic Workspace, Old Homophobic Thinking, Inspired by Set It Up, Modern Era, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Developing Relationship, Revealed relationship, Secrete Marriage, Secretary and Boss Action, Ice is a weapon manufacture, Mav is a Navy Contractor, Beau is a Secretary and Designer, POV Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is So Done, Beau "Cyclone" Simpson is a Softie, Dom Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Bottom Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, Protective Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Married Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell is a Little Shit, Bottom Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives, Protective Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Gay Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Soft Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Top Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Series: ← Previous Work Part 9 of (Jon Hamm) Beau “Cyclone” Simpson fics

   “Simpson!”

        Beau bit back a sigh at the call, irritation mounting as he gave the carrier an apologetic look as he hastily scribbled the last half of his signature on the e-pad. Snatching the flat package from the man’s offering hand, ignoring its fragile shipping label instruction stamped across the package with red ink once he caught the name of the sender, shoving it between his chest and the crook of his elbow. His own files pressed against it, wrist aching with the weight of the coffee tray, headset slanted forward on his ear, and he cursed lowly aware that there was only a certain amount of time before it dislodged and fell down around his neck. On his other hand his pointer and middle finger began to cramp with the weight on the metal hanger dug into the crease of his finger joint holding the pressed and ironed suit encased in a protective zipped sleeve, shoes safely polished and placed in a fabric protector attached to the hook adding to the weight, swaying behind him just over his shoulder as far as he could place it away from any possible spillage from the cups. He slipped past the crowded office into the left cut hallway that led to his ‘office’; which was realistically just a small cut out section of the hall which he was sure was once used to be for back up storage, which now held his small sad desk that was pressed up against the wall. A small, cluttered area which collected Kazansky’s mail and the endless phone calls and scheduled meetings, an eyesore for all those who passed it, as rare as it was, to enter the big, windowed view of Kazansky’s office.

        Using his hip, he pressed open the glass door to the office mainly due to the lack of available hands, tilting his head to press his headset against his shoulder to click the button on the side of his earpiece as he heard it emit a soft tring.

        “Beau Simpson, Kazansky Office. Please hold” he calmly answered falling into a practiced lull as he stepped further into the office, tolling his eyes and biting back irritation at finding Kazansky leaning over a chaotically overfilling desk of open books, scrolls, and blueprints spread over and under books with no care for risking damaging the prints, his paints, charcoals, and what he was assuming what was some sort of acrylic paint was smeared across the glass top desk. He mentally making a note to apologise to the cleaner before they got into tonight, wondering if that red velvet and truffle place was still open so he could order an apology gift for Darline the shift manager.

        He gently swung the suit around his body to hang it up, hooking it onto the rack by the door, neatly notched onto the old looking pipe that stuck out from the old brick accent wall which took after an industrial design. Once he was sure the suite was smooth and safely notched, he stepped back hand, quickly shifting his headpiece back into a stable position before firmly holding his files now removing the awkward pinch it was giving his elbow from clutching it for so long.

        “Sir” he acknowledged lightly as he stepped further into the office pointedly ignoring the man lounging in the plush lounging chair that sat on the lush, carpeted area. The darked haired man’s legs were spread, uncaring for the way that his uniform formed tightly over his thighs, lips turned downwards, brows furrowed slightly, fist pressed against his chin looking bored. The mans seamed to light up as he entered, head dipping up at the sound of his voice lips curling up in pleasure, forcing him to bit back his retort as he slid the books aside to create space and placed his files onto the desk, careful to not damage anything Ice might be working on but also not allowing the files to be re-swallowed by the mess and lost forever.  

        “Simpson” Kazansky muttered distracted as he tapped the dull side of his pencil against his jaw in thought one palm pressing against the desk, hunched over as he worked. “Did you get my dry cleaning for tonight’s gala?”

        “Steamed and hung sir, shoes are polished as well. The car will be picking you up from the office at 9, and the speaker should greet you upon arrival”. He began to quickly scan the table picking up the books that looked untouched for a while flipping them shut and began to stack them in a pile creating some space that he knew was pointless because it would only be swallowed again once he left. “Don’t forget you have a lunch in Manhattan with Cortell at 12, the car will arrive in the lobby at 11:20. Then you have two hours of sketching time before you have blook meetings with the committee”.

        He had hardly finished his mental recalling of his boss’s calendar when a hand cut through his vision snatching one of the coffee cups, pointedly the one black dot on the lid, from his tray causing him to scowl. He glanced up and glared at Mitchell who calmly grinned at him from his new position leaning back against the table, sipping from the brim staring straight at him, baiting him.

        “Actually” he drawled, “That was mine”.

        “No bed side manors for the guests Cy?” Mitchells lips tipped into fond a fond smile.

        His teeth grated at that horrible nickname; the man hadn’t flattered since he first met him. Giving people callsigns is his thing, Tom had explained to him once when he first joined the company, clearly over trying to argue the calling card of Iceman, once the name flowed through the correct Navy channels it seemed people were much more willing to work with Kazansky, so he had left it at that. Don’t ask what you don’t want to know, his grandmother had told him once. Especially when apple pie was involved.

        “Not to uninvited guest, not particularly no”.

        Kazansky reached out blindly, snapping his fingers insistently causing his eye to twitch in indignation as he silently passed the man the remaining warm coffee, leaving his hand empty other then the tray which he untucked from its folds, flattening it and placed the dismantling tray into the bin, taking a moment to try and regain his composure.

        “And here I thought you loved me Cy” Mitchell chuckled lightly.

        “Only the amount of money you make the company sir,” he bit back, releasing a silent shuttered breath, turning towards them with a customer service smile, patient but deadly.

        Mitchell smirked lazily kicking his leg out his hip pressed against the glass looking lazily at ease in such an awkward position. “Well, you know how sort after and irreplaceable I am”

        He hummed “I didn’t realise the Navy had a special place in their hearts for recruiting garden nomes”.

        Mitchel’s expression tightened, smile turned sharp, “Don’t get cute with me boy”.

        “Cute, you must be mistaken, I’m nothing but polite and efficient” he calmly stepped closer reaching out around the man towards the side table and extending a bowl of butter drops Kazansky liked keeping by his desk for when he was thinking, “Candy drop?”

        The man scoffed roughly rolling his eyes so aggressively he hoped they would fall out of his skull and cause his to drop dead- placing the drink down on the table grumbling as he bitched “Who gets soy milk in their coffee anyway?”

        “People who have an intolerance to lactose. Now if I had known you would be here, if you have scheduled an appointment, I would have gotten you a coffee in your order”.

        Mitchell tisked dismissively, “Isn’t it your job to keep track of Tom’s schedule?”

        “If you actually scheduled, then yes”.

        The man eyes flickered to the documents on the desk eyes catching the red ink, grimacing as he took another sip. “You know when I send mail labeled fragile, I intend you to be fragile with them Cy”.

        “Nothing you ever send is fragile Mitchell, and if it was important, you would have hand delivered it” he informed him well aware of the man’s habits having them drilled into him for the last three years and counting.

        “Don’t be dumb Cy, if it was that important you wouldn’t even know about it” Mav smirk was sharp, taunting him.

        Before he could reply a low thrumming filled the room sounding more like something was dying, calling out in agony.

        “Simpson, the computers beeping again” Kazansky muttered waving his hand in a general direction to his left.

        That…was a computer?

        Frowning he stepped away from Mitchell and addressed the desk before him, flipped over books, carefully closing them and stacking them into tower, rolling up scrolls before finding the said object buried under an avalanche of notes, only to sighs heavily.

       “It’s beeping because it’s overheating again. Sir, you need to close the tabs you’re not using, or you’ll overload the system-” he reminded him for the umpteenth time.

        “They’re all important to my work-” Kazansky glanced up eyes narrowing on him as if threatening to close his…109 tabs… was life threatening. Why the hell does he work for this man again? Ah right, despite the shit hours, endless workdays and wanting to quit at least 27 times an hour, it was great experience on his record, and it came with good pay for someone in his position. Enough to have a decent apartment, care for his cat Phranch, and small French bulldog Pez, his endless succulents and the climbing plants that were taking over his bathroom and fire escape. It allowed him to wear decent business wear to work, his dress shoes, ironed business trousers neatly tucked into his white button up which was rolled up to his elbow with a brown belt to tie it together. Kazansky never specifically said he needed to dress to impress but considering he always walked around in a suit it was heavily implied, and it wasn’t like he could wear his sweater wear around here in his position, he’d get trampled on.

        “I know sir, but the more the computer overheats the quicker it will die”.

        “That’s idiotic,” he heard the man mutter attention stolen by a stray line, that he leaned over the table, bitting the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration as he gently adjusted the line of the frame to the canopy of the newest F-22’s.

        Deciding that it was a lost cause attempting to argue with the man who clearly didn’t quite grasp technology the same as the other bothersome man in the room, he picked up the laptop rescuing it from its doom sliding it under his arm resisting the urge to flitch as the hot object pressed against his skin just below his rolled sleeve. There was no point trying to fix the problem here, he would need to bring it back to his desk and cross refence the tabs with Kazansky’s open projects before actually deleting anything. Why the man couldn’t simply use the desktop on his desk was beyond him, let alone the tablet he ended up retrieving every so often when the man’s carelessness fried something, no doubt at the bottom of the draw of his neck, he’d have to charge it up, it was just as frustrating to care for but thankfully Kazansky had a better understanding of it, even if it was only the sketching app. Ironically the man had no issues working a phone, he just simply chose to ignore calls.

        Ignoring the way the laptop pinched at the hair on his arm he took the time to order the files he placed on the desk, placing the more time pressing on the top of the pile and the people he personally thought deserved to wait longer just purely from being dicks on him on the phone on the bottom, idly listening to Kazansky quietly mutter to Mitchell about the design for the sleek airframe, as he tugged a pen from his pocket and placed it on top. A 0.5 needle point, sleek but precise, something he knew Kazansky would want, the man was cold and cutting, and he displayed those exact traits in his mannerisms and signatures. He knew that Kazansky would get to them eventually, the man always did a scan of the desk after lunch taking the time to check over the files and [placing aside the work he completed before sinking into his creativity zone. The files where always signed at the end of the day so he didn’t particularly care how long it took or what exactly the man’s process was.

        He twisted, fingers tightening around the laptop as Mitchells eyes jumped up from the table where Kazansky was running his pen over a mechanics of the inner engine and those green eyes softened watching him even with those tugged tight smiles he always got when he knew the man was tired and stressed. He ignored him, even when he waited anxiously with a bated breath, uncomfortableness itching at his chest, as Mitchell let the tense moment drag in silence instead of butting in and trying to get him, to rise for his bait as he usually did in moments like these. Always gleeful to steal a moment or two to send him off out of the office in a foul mood ensuring he wouldn’t bother them for a few hours, always dragging it out as long as he possibly could before forcing himself to face the man again trying to hide the way his fists curled, or the tenseness in his gaze as it scanned over the man as if he wasn’t even there. Much to Mitchell’s endless amusement.  

        He turned his attention to his boss, trying to bite back his irritation when the man didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. Only a few more years. Only a few more years, he reminded himself. Then I can have enough experience under my name to work my own firm, to get a better job where it's my designs that are being followed instead of running coffee orders like I was Kristien fucking Stewart.

        “Do you need anything sir? Or am I to return to my desk?”

        “No”. The blond waved him off dismissively, “Push back my meetings for an hour, I don’t want to be disturbed”.

        His eye twitched, hand shifting ever so slightly behind his back, view obscured, as his fingers curled into a fist. Placing a painfully fake smile on as he nodded empathetically “Of course sir”.

        Did he not just tell the man he had an appointment? An important one. Like hell he was pushing that back, the man could work in his designated sketching time. Did he know how much time he spend negotiating with this firm? How many people he had tried to be calm with as they cursed him out? How many hours of overtime he had put in to just keep up with the work load this meeting created to begin with. NDA’s, contacts, security details.

        Did he know how long this took to set up?

        “That means you too Mitchell” Kazansky’s unimpressed drone cut through his anger with a sharp flash of gratification at the disgruntled and offended look the other man wore. Mitchell immediately moved forward towards Kazansky who didn’t even bother to glance him with a look, a noise of protest already bubbling from his throat when the moment was interrupted by his headset beeping with an withholding call, reminding him that he still had someone on hold.

        Pushing back the urge to groan knowing fully well he was in for a tongue lashing due to the wait, he smiled, clicking the side button reconnecting the call. Moving towards the doorway towards his desk as he put his all, whatever will to live that was left at 9:30 in the morning, into an energetic bubbly voice that was expected of him for his position. “Thank you so much for holding. How may I-” his sentence was cut short, tongue catching behind his teeth in alarm jaw clenching, as his strid stalled in the centre of the room, “Mhh. I understand”.

        To his left, Kazansky finally glanced up brows furrowed half in annoyance and the other in intrigue. “Simpson?”

        “Cy?” Mitchell stepped forward towards him as if it would help the distress flooding through him, those green eyes searching him for some sort of unnamed response.

        His smile felt strained as he silently walked towards the door pausing, releasing the pressure bar holding the doors open and flicking the lock shut. He then stepped back towards them, closing the distance hastily with three long strides placing the computer on the computer on the files, ignoring the way the computer whined in complaint when he opened a new tab. Lips pressed as he hummed in agreement again, along with the man on the phone who ratted off in a confused half panic. “Don’t worry Marty, I'll handle it, yes, goodbye” he reached up numbly clicking the button as the call finished staring up at the two men.

        He clicked on the newest post on the webpage and glanced up at the two men offering them a grim look as he twisted the computer around to reveal the page. “We have a problem”.

        There sitting on the screen, loud and proud, was an image of Kazansky, stone faced in his usual business attire hands folded behind his back. Mitchell beside him, looking slightly more human, one hand in his pocket, the other fiddling with his lapel, although the man’s head was tilted slightly towards Kazansky’s, the angle of the photo making it look deceptively like they were speaking to each other quietly. Secretive. Intimate. And above it all, in capitals with colours flying across the screen labelled:

KAZANSKY Co., OWNER OFFICIALLY LEAVES HIS COCKPIT, ONLY TO ENTER ANOTHER: THE GAY STORY OF A CENTURY!         Thomas Kazansky one of the youngest CEO in Marmari, who had not only managed to double his worth in five years but to successfully secure the one deal that had everyone at war. A naval contract.          Only now it leads to a more interesting story. After all it’s not everyday you hear for the rich falling for the commoner. Thomas Kazansky or affectionately called Iceman by his colleague Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, was recently appointed the soul contract for a classified military intelligence service, important enough that he was given a Captain to work with. A Captain, who’s has been spotted on several occasions leaving his personal building, and office at odd hours. A naval officer who is comfortable enough to stand so close to the Iceman, a man who it turns out, may not simply be a man. But rather, a boyfriend.          It will be a surprise to everyone here when I inform you with utmost glee that Thomas Kazansky is gay! Confirmed face to face by a trusted anonymous source of mine. Not only is he gay, but the suggestion of the image above sealed my suspicion, Iceman is dating Maverick! Well, I guess we all know who’s who in the relationship…Click here to read further… View count: 2,408 Comments: 1,002 Reposts: 456 Posted 8 minutes ago, 27th September, 2022.

        “What the fuck is that”. Mitchell was starting at it, had been staring at it for a good few minutes as if reading it, and rereading it again, as if that would change the words on the page.

        “A scandal” he offered.

        “An anonymous source?” Mitchell sounded scandalised, furious, as if this was his own reputation literally falling to the ground around him. The Man snarled shoving off the desk forcing himself into a pace with a sharp calming breath which seemed to be failing as the pent-up man reached out towards the desk as if to throw something only to stop himself mid motion. “Who’s going to believe this shit?

        He glanced at the scene tiredly in growing temptation, mentally wincing at the views listed there, “Around two, three thousand as of right now” and growing.

        “Three thousand?!” Mitchell stared at him, “How the hell do that many people have spare time to read the news during work hours”

        “You always mange to find time to bother me at work during work hours” Kazansky muttered, he had relocated, numbly moving away from his desk barley missing spilling his dirty paint water onto his work in his haste to collapse into the plush chair Mitchell had abandoned earlier. His elbows on his knees, hands pressed together, fingers pressing against his lips in contemplation, tying to find a way out of…this.

        “You need to do damage control” he said quietly, “We need to put a statement out, debunk it all. The longer we wait the harder it will be to contain. But we don’t want to do it too soon, or they’ll think we’re trying to hide something”.

        “Meaning hell take damage either way” Mitchell sounded deflated, defeated, dropping back into the plush chair across from Kazansky with a weary groan, “Shit Kay-”

        “I know” Kazansky mused, “I know”.

        “What the hell are we going to do?” Mithcell scrubbed his face, “You know Cain and Wendle won’t tolerate colours around your name, even if it’s only a rumour-”

        “They’ll bounce” he offered, “Unless they were convince otherwise, and we offer them something more important than their own pride”.

        “What would possibly be more important?” Mitchell snapped.

        He worried his lip, “Darkstar” he broached carefully.

        Kazansky head snapped to him, “What?” he asked tensely.

        Mitchell had gone pale, still.

        “Where did you hear about that?” Kazansky demanded, “That’s confidential. They require Naval credentials to access”.

        “Cains sends emails, I read emails. It’s not hard to put together sir. He’s been emailing for a few months about it, trying to bring it back into motion, apparently it was shelfed back in 1986 after a pilot died during testing-”

        “Nick Bradshaw” Mitchell bit out sounding far more breathless than he should, “His name was Nick”.

        Shit.

        They knew him.

        He hated when he stepped into unventured land. It was an unmarked minefield waiting to blow. “He’s been trying to push the initiative” he continued quietly, “Apparently with your approval he can override the board of director votes and put it into motion. If we give him that, then…he won’t be thinking about anything the news prints out. Other than how much money he’s going to make”.

        “And Wendle?” Kazansky asked quietly, head bowed somewhat terrifyingly similar to one praying in purgatory, his own time spend on his knees in the small purgatory momentarily flashed behind his eyelids, the total sense of helplessness and weighted lack of navigation.

        “Well sir, let’s just say I have enough collected on him from his drunken loose tongue at the last event to hold him off for a while, until we can pin him with those dirty under the table deals, he’s been doing with Russia”.

        “He’s dealing to Russia?” Mithell muttered, “That’s the worst country to try and blackmail”.

        “No one said he was smart, and no one said he was the one trading. We just need to make it believable”.

        “You can’t get rid of a scandal” Kazansky glanced up with a solemn acceptance, nodding his head slowly in acknowledgment, “You can only make a bigger one”.

[missmarveledsblog]

Bet on it ( Bradley bradshaw x reader ) part one

summary : everyone thought since they were best friend that their kids would be but after some unknown reason bradley bradshaw and y/n mitchell hated each other . after confrontation one night that leaves bradley in a dry spell well the guys make a claim and bradley's willing to bet and prove them wrong all he had to do was get into a relationship with the one person that couldn't stand him .

warning : enemies to lovers, bradley bit of a dick in the start not gonna lie , bet trope , age gap ( ten years hes 38 , she 28 ) this series is gonna be a roller coaster of emotions

They were soulmate platonic  where Mav was, goose was not far behind , both mischievous , both good at what they did . best friends til the end of time even if the time was short lived . so naturally people thought it would be the same with their kids and yet they were very wrong. It was like the two were fire and ice constantly going against each other whenever they got close .  there was a break she went to med school as bradley was back at top gun only for their secret feud to fire back up when she was transferred to a hospital right in san diego and of course she was able to win the hearts of the dagger squad and her turning up to the hard deck it was his worst nightmare come true . if they weren’t locked in the childish back and forth it was ignoring the other existence all together which honestly their friends preferred and as aggravating as y/n mitchell could be nothing was going to dampen bradley bradshaws mood tonight. He almost floated over to his friends the moment he step into the hard deck . the smile on his face was almost cheek splitting when they all looked at him . 

“ guess who got a date with the barista” he flashed his dazzling smile pulling the aviator to perch on his nose . 

“  nice even for you chicken” hangman nodded. 

“ well bagman you know i could give you some advice  , i mean i guess it been a dry spell” he shrugged taking his seat beside phoenix who rolled her eyes and called them both “ disgusting pigs”. 

“ yeah i don’t need advice we both now i do well and even better than you” . 

“ god you both ever gonna tire of the hook ups “ she groaned . 

“ hey this could be best date of my life and she could be the one” bradley smirked. 

Before they could even say more the door open and an excited y/n bounded towards them . 

“ i pass the interview i passed it” she yelled excitedly. 

“ wait the internship in new york?” nat asked unsure of how to feel . 

“ yes it’s not til six month from now but  in six month i will be heading to big city and studying under the greats of pediatrics “ she excitedly dance in her spot barely even sparing the usually happy man in her wake. 

“A date with hot ass woman and she leaving jesus this is my lucky day” rooster felt like crying he was so happy. 

“ in six month pornstache … wow playing in the dog park finally worked out good job” she smiled only for jake to lift her up and spin her around . 

“Knew you could do it , what i tell you this morning” he chuckled ruffling her hair. 

“ not to doubt myself “ she smiled bashfully . “ shit there’s my dad i’ll be back “ she giggled rushing off . 

“ or don’t that’s a good option “ rooster smiled. 

“ i don’t get why you don’t like her” fanboy mused . 

“ because you’ll learn like i did she’ll drop you like that no reason” he rolled his eyes sick of his friend constantly going on about how great she was honestly he thought the same one time and well he learned his lesson . 

“ people change or maybe you done something “ jake mused although he may of know more than he let on giving how close he and y/n got over the two years since she came to san diego. 

“ day that happens i’ll sell my bronco “ bradley scoffed. “ going to the mens room if my date comes tell her i’ll be out in a minute” . 

She stood watching the news sinking in from excitement to straight on nerves .  hoping he would show even a hint of happiness for her . 

“ it’s great news but we .. i just got you back” he smiled uneasy . 

“ it’s only a short flight and i’ll be home for holidays come on dad this is once in a lifetime opportunity i’m literally the youngest and female to be accepted on to this programme “ she almost pleaded with him . 

“ how long is it” 

“ two years with a chance to stay on in new york or head back to my residency here which i will because it will earn my spot on more paid job and more opportunities  it’s only two years and i can visit” she repeated . 

“ well i still got you for six months so i better make most of it i am proud of you but your my baby girl too … penny round on me to celebrate my daughters great work” he smiled sadly although he meant it when he said he was proud . 

“ i’ll have this one with you next one with the guys “ she smiled . 

“ sorry i was suppose to meet someone here and i don’t think i can see him “ a woman called making them turn . 

“ who you looking for honey “ penny beamed 

“ bradley bradshaw oh god i have the wrong place don’t i “ she chuckled . 

“  the wrong man i’d run if i was you” another woman scoffed. 

“ you sure he was charming when i met him “ the girls eyes widened . 

“ really rooster is great guy , don’t listen cheryl she as bitter as those gins “ y/n smiled . 

“ yeah great guy when he and hangman used me as pawn in their who can sleep with most women game , i think i was number 8 made me think i was special never felt the spark like it “ 

“ she’s drunk really rooster is great , he’s sweet and listens to good music “  y/n defended more although she didn’t know why he was an ass to her all time even though he was one that hurt her all those years.

“ sure look he already over there high fiving his friend “ cheryl smirked as the other girl eyes narrowed before y/n  could say anything the woman was barrelling over like a storm . 

Now as bradley looked up ready to greet his date what he didn’t expect was the slap across his face or the anger of a bull on her. 

“ you bastard i thought .. shit i thought one decent guy out there til that woman set me straight “ she pointed over at cheryl although bradley misread it  now he was pissed. 

“ whatever she said was crock of shit  trust me” he defended. 

“ so you and some guy called hangman didn’t have a sleezy contest i will not be a part of delete my number asshole “ was all she said before storming out the bar completely . 

“ she has got some nerve” was all bradley said before he storming towards the bar only he wasn’t going for the right person . 

“ what the hell is your problem  what me being happy isn’t good enough you have to ruin it “ he pulled y/n around as she almost looked shocked. 

“ i didn’t … i didn’t do anything” she stuttered out completely confused. 

 “ yeah you told her about stupid game me and hangman had … do you really like ruining things for me i mean life was great til you showed up here making everyone think your some little sweetheart when in actuality  your’re a cold hearted bitch” he scoffed. 

“ and you said he was a great guy” cheryl laughed . 

“ i guess i was wrong, drop dead rooster “ y/n walked off ignoring everyone’s calls . 

“ shit that girl defended you after i told your date what your really like jesus thanks for proving me right”cheryl saunter off playing her bill and leaving . 

“ wait wait what “ he froze . 

“ rooster what the hell .. you two used to love each other now god your at each others throat but never like that ...   i thought you were better than that .. godson or not you talk to her like that again we’re gonna have problems “ mav warned as he headed out the door .  leaving bradley looking like biggest dickhead in the hard deck head low and tail between his legs he headed back to the table the guys were bar nat and jake who probably fixing his fuck up . 

“ wow harsh man” payback whistled lowly . 

“ yeah not my finest moment “ he grumbled . 

That  sentence was like a mantra on his tongue hell he didn’t want to admit it the dry spell he was having which after his outburst completely extended it first couple of week no girl would even look his way hitting another bust as he headed back to the rest of his squad as y/n sat with jake as far as she could barely even looking his way til she ended up smiling at her phone and bidding the rest a farewell , he didn’t want to admit it but the complete freeze out was worse than before the fact she didn’t even give him a second thought was driving him crazy maybe  the dry spell was affecting him more than he thought . 

“ guess it was a bust” fanboy smirked. 

“ losing your status rooster”  javy laughed , 

“ maybe it for the best between him and hangman  they going to sleep through san diego or that was case” bob chuckled . 

“ now what i would love to see is either of them try a relationship they would fold the second things get serious” payback  pointed out . 

“ ok first ouch bob i’m nothing like bagman  and second i could do serious relationship with any girl “ he stood hand on hips . 

“ not any girl “ bob mused . 

“ baby on board is right not any girl “ jake leaned against the pool table maybe it was a risk and shit if it ended badly well he would hate it but he could see it , he could see it the moment she walked into the hard deck two years ago . 

“ i’d bet my bronco on it “ bradley stood falling into the trap hook line and sinker . 

“ you sure you wanna bet on something you’ll lose chicken ?”  he goaded willing him to take the bait . 

“ fuck it your on bagman name her , point her out” he stood toe to toe with the man . 

“ easy y/n “ that damn smile , the cocky one rooster loved to wipe of his face and yet this one was gonna be tough shit did he have it in him. “ you really are a chicken on it “ he had him hook , line  

“ your on “  sinker .

A.N : Let me know if you wanna be added to taglist for future parts

[needforspeed161]

Hey Admiral

My friend and I were talking about a scenario like this and I decided to write a little something for it. Since Cyclone looks up to Ice so much this would be hilarious to see play out 😂

CYCLONE DOESNT REALIZE ICE AND MAV ARE MARRIED.

Cyclone had it up to HERE with Maverick, constantly correcting him and becoming quite irritable with his “teaching methods” as he called them.

Why on earth a man as revered as the legendary Iceman would request a man as reckless and untamed as Maverick to teach the top pilots in the world at TOP GUN OF ALL PLACES! For what he is sure would be one of the most dangerous, high enemy contact level mission any of these pilots would ever experience in their lives was beyond him.

“Admiral” Ice spoke, taking a seat across from him, Beau stood at attention as the COMPACFLT seated himself before him.

“Evening sir” he spoke, militant as ever.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure” Ice waved a waitress over, grabbing a glass of his classic vodka on the rocks as Cyclone opted for a brandy.

“About Maverick…”

The warm chuckle that spread throughout the blonde, now graying, Admirals chest stopped the three star in his tracks.

“My apologies sir, I wasn’t intending to be comical”

“No Beau it’s not that” Ice took a gentle sip from his drink, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It’s just that if I had a dollar for everytime one of these dinners or meetings began with ‘so about Maverick’ I could have retired 10 years ago and have two Mercedes in my driveway”

Beau looked at his hands momentarily, unsure of what to say. Soon Tom continued.

“Anyways, I digress, what did he do this time”

Ices softer stare met his colleagues as he took another drink, before looking down at the menu on the soft white table cloth.

“His training methods for the Dagger squadron are….interesting to say the least, unorthodox is the better term.”

“Oh? Do tell”

“For instance, they were supposed to be practicing formations for the bombing run yesterday and I found them playing on the beach like children”

“Hm” Ice grunted softly, paying attention as the waitress came by again, interrupting them.

“Good evening sir” she spoke with a small smile at Tom. “Your usual sir?” Tom nodded

“Thank you Katherine, Beau? Care to order?”

Cyclone didn’t think to hard as to why Ice knew this woman, and frequented this place often enough to have established a ‘usual’. Ice was the COMPACFLT, he probably enjoyed some nicer expensive dining from time to time.

“No green eyes tonight?” She asked, and Tom shook his head. “No my dear, all buisness tonight”

She frowned slightly and put her hands on her hips. “Well darn, please tell him I said hello, I’ll go put your order in gentlemen.”

“I definitely will, Thank you my dear” Ice waved as she disappeared, rounding the corner.

Cyclone decided not to comment, first of all he and Ice were close but not so close as to ask questions about his love life. Let alone the fact that it was apparently another gentleman he often frequented this place with. Who was he to judge, since the DADT repeal and Ice becoming one of the most powerful men in the military, no one could say shit even if they had a mouthful.

“Apologies for the interruption, as you were saying?”

Beau cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, he completely ignored my hard deck perameters and is running these pilots through ridiculous exercises, we have less than a week to have them mission ready…”

Their conversation went on for a couple more hours as they ate, and as they both stood to leave Ices hand found Cyclones shoulder.

“I know Captain Mitchell can be a hard pill to swallow sometimes, but he’s a brilliant pilot, best the Navy has to offer, I’ve flown with him for many years, and he’s done many things I may not have understood, but he was always reliable, always had his head in the game and always made sure everyone, including me, made it back home safe. Be patient with him Admiral, give him a shot”

Cyclone huffed out in annoyance slightly, but let his shoulders fall. “Yes sir, I’ll do my best”

“Thanks Beau” Tom spoke, dropping the formalities. “And thank you for the company, but I’m a little past curfew and need to get home” Ice winked, Bidding him goodbye and getting in his car to head home.

—————————————————————————

The next day seemed even worse, Admiral Simpson was being driven up a wall, two seconds away from punching the brunette square in the face. If not for Ices encouragement he probably would have by now.

That evening he returned to the ready room to see, SHOCKER! EVERYONE WAS GONE!

Anger rose in his throat, he knew exactly where he was going.

Throwing his truck in park in perhaps the most aggressive way he could, the man, still clad in his khakis and medals, stormed in through the swinging saloon doors of the Hard deck, seeing all of his pilots and one infuriating Pete Mitchell drinking beers and playing rounds of pool.

Laughing, smiling and joking together, if he weren’t so angry he would have liked to admit that it even looked….fun.

“CAPTAIN MITCHELL!” He shouted. As if on cue the music came to a winding stop and all heads turned to look at him.

Pete not looking worried in the slightest.

“FRONT AND CENTER! NOW!”

Handing off his beer to Bradley with a nod, sharing a quiet word with him that couldn’t be made out clearly. He walked towards the angry, taller brunette. As the rest of the gang tentatively went back to playing pool, quietly, as if walking on eggshells.

“Admiral Simpson, sir” Maverick spoke. Smug grin on his face long gone and replaced with a tight line drawn between his lips.

“What in the hell is this?! We have a mission less

Than TWO WEEKS out that requires absolute focus! And before you try and brush this off as one of your bullshit ‘team building exercises’ just know I’m going to look forward to reporting this directly to admiral Kazansky! And-“

“Reporting what exactly to Admiral Kazansky?” A voice spoke, interrupting his statement, as the taller, angrier man turned to see the familiar face returning with two drinks in his hand.

Immediately straightening his posture and clearing his throat. He took in a very casually dressed Tom Kazansky.

“A-Admiral sir!”

“At ease Admiral, so what did Maverick do this time”

His eyes followed the movements of the slightly taller man, coming up to stand beside Pete, handing him a beer.

As Cyclone began to go into what he saw.

“Is that so Mitchell? Little old you did all that?” Ice threw his arm around Mavericks shoulder. Seeing the smug smile return to his lips.

“I can neither confirm or deny that statement” Maverick chuckled.

“My apologies on behalf of my husband Admiral, it seems he wasn’t aware of todays training layout”

Cyclones jaw may as well have been on the floor, throat tightening at a loss of words.

“H-husband sir?”

“Ah!” Ice almost looked surprised.

“How rude of me Admiral, I’d like to formally introduce you to my husband, Pete Mitchell-Kazansky, though for work purposes everyone still knows him by Mitchell.”

Just at this time Bradley walked up behind them.

“Hey dad, pops” he squeezed both of their shoulders and looked at Admiral Simpson. “Admiral”

“Lieutenant” he scoffed in return. Still attempting to process all of this new information.

“Wait so, at the restaurant, the waitress, green eyes is-“

“The one and only” maverick smirked, leaning up to give his husband a kiss on the cheek.

“Now Admiral, if you don’t mind we’d like to get back to our game, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” Ice invited, gesturing his head towards the rest of the squad.

Cyclones mouth open and closed again. Unsure of what to do next.

“Cmon Sir, first rounds on me, loosen up a little” Bradley smiled, eyes bright and hopeful. As Cyclone turned to the rest of the team, smiling at him as well.

“I guess one drink couldn’t hurt….but I’m kicking your ass at a game of pool first Bradshaw”

As the two men walked back towards the pool tables, newly acquired beers in hand and jokes being flung back and fourth. Maverick pulled ice against his side by his waist. Smiling up at him with big green eyes, clinking his beer against the taller man’s glass.

“This is going to be fun” he smiled.

“Couldn’t agree more darling”

[the-ace-with-spades]

I feel like Bradley was either very in touch with his sexuality (whether this was being bi or gay) or in complete denial in the most bro way

You know, in the 20$ is 20$ or everyone looks at guy's asses or kissing always feels good so liking to kiss men isn't all that gay bro way.

I feel like even if we assume he grew up with Mav and Ice being a very present and direct example of mlm relationship, he'd just be like, yeah, I know you can be gay but I'm not gay because I like girls or some shit or maybe all the guys in this family can't be gay statistically, I gotta be the straight one.

He'd either be very in touch and would acknowledge that he has hots for Hangman the minute he meets him and then he'd know he's way too flirty when insulting him or he'd be completely confused why Hangman reeling him up affects him so bad and why he acts around Hangman the way he is - or maybe he'd think it's absolutely normal to stare at his ass or stand too close or look at his lips... Hell, it's normal to want to make out with a pretty boy like Hangman, he's done it a few times with other guy friends in college, why would that be different?

[romcomxdd]

Pete and Bradley were the hotheads of the family, always at each others throat, and it pissed Tom off to no end. Most of the time he was there to diffuse the arguments before they got to the point of Bradley and Pete saying things that they couldn’t take back, but the one time he wasn’t, it didn’t go very well. At All.

Bradley was your typical angsty teenager, but the fact that Tom and Pete weren’t his biological parents added a whole new dimension. Him and Pete were always going at each other for the smallest things, though they almost always resolved just as fast as they blew up. The tension between them reached its peak when Bradley was around sixteen, seventeen.

One day after school, Pete and Bradley had an argument, a big one. Ice was at work late that night, so it was just the two of them. Pete said something that must have triggered Bradley and within seconds they were in the middle of a full out yelling match. They both said things that they didn’t mean, and regretted saying instantly. Things along the lines of ‘fuck i wish you’d just left when you had the chance’ and ‘well if i’m such a shit parent, maybe i should have left you for a foster family to fuck up instead.’, were shouted across the kitchen bench. (of course neither of them meant this, they just had trouble regulating their tempers sometimes).

By this point, Tom had just got home from working late, and as he opened the door, Bradley stormed out, car keys and wallet in hand.

A furious Pete was hot on his heels, and he almost nocked over poor Ice for a second time, but he caught his husband in time. ‘Bradley! Bradley i’m sorry! I did’t mean it- fuck- Bradley covet back here!’

A very frantic Pete watched as his son slammed the door of his car and slammed on the accelerator, probably stalling at least once. Tom was immediately by his husbands side, confusion evident on his face.

‘The fuck was that?’ He muttered as the pair watched Bradley drive off. Pete was distraught, he knew how dangerous it could be driving in the emotional state that Bradley was in. He’d done it himself more than a few times, and counted himself lucky that he was still here to tell the tale.

‘Fuck- I- Shit-‘ Was all he could get out, his hands constantly running through his hair. ‘I-i’m sorry- i’m so sorry- fuck’

Ice sighed and pulled the wide eyed man into his chest, his fingers slowly interlocking in Pete’s hair. ‘Shhhh- hey- it’s okay. Bradley’s a smart boy. He’ll be fine.’

Mav nodded, his face still buried in Ice’s shirt.

‘What the fuck did you say to him?’

‘I-‘ Pete straightened up, his eyes still downturned in shame. ‘I told him that we shouldn’t have adopted him- shoulda let someone else take him- it- it just slipped out in the moment and you know I don’t mean it-‘

Ice sighed ‘Oh Pete- Jesus you really didn’t think that through did you?’

Mav just shook his head in shame.

To make a long story short, Bradley spent the night tearing down highways, and probably should have died but somehow he came out of it unscathed. The next morning he woke up curled in the boot of his car with drool dripping down his chin. Once he had time to clear his mind a little he made the drive of shame back home.

Ice and Mav were both at work when he got back, Bradley set about making an apology dinner, as per the family’s tradition. If you fucked up, but couldn’t find the words to properly apologise, you would make dinner. And do the washing up. No need for words. Not until everyone was ready.

It was a rule Ice had instituted a few years back, and had worked wonders in keeping the family running.

Once the older two returned home, Bradley had made all but a feast, it was an impressive sight. The relief that shone in both their faces sent another wave of guilt through the teen, and he went to say something, to apologise, but Mav quickly shook his head.

‘After dinner. Okay?’

‘But-‘

‘You’re safe. That’s what matters.’

[friend-lover-traitor-narrator]

A couple of thoughts after re-watching TGM

What I think is actually canon

Amelia is Mav’s daughter (Penny hints at that when she’s talking to Mav about her) but Amelia doesn't know

Mav considers himself to be Bradley’s dad (Mav answers when Bradley asks his dad what to do) 

Bradley considers both Goose and Mav to be his dad (after Mav says that Bradley saved his life, Bradley says that his dad would've done the same - considering the fact that Mav has already saved Bradley's life you could see that as Bradley seeing Mav as his dad, too) 

Bradley has lived with Mav for a considerable period of time (Mav says to Penny he tried his best to be a father for Bradley) 

Thoughts concerning TG3 / Predictions 

I think they gonna set up Phoenix as Bradley's love interest because they seem very close in the movie (but for me they’re more like besties) 

I hope they gonna keep the character's of Warlock and Cyclone (with Cyclone basically hating Mav and Warlock secretly supporting the shit Mav does all the time) and also they need to keep at least Warlock because somebody needs to prevent that Mav is thrown out of the Navy

I hope there still will be references to Ice (I just love him and he needs to be mentioned) 

Other thoughts 

I actually paid attention to the hangster dynamics for the first time

Jake’s and Bradley’s first hook up is right after dogfight football

Bradley is Ice-coded while Jake is Mav-coded 

I ship bobnix now (I think Nat and Bob are very sweet together in the movie - need to find some fluffy fics about them)

The lifelong friendship between Ice and Mav just kills me (solely sticking to the movie here because otherwise icemav is endgame imo), like Ice basically knows everything about Mav (every shit he has done at work, everything around him pulling Bradley's papers, private problems he’s had etc.) and also the other way round (Mav supporting him during his battle with cancer and a whole lot of other things which we don't know because sadly Ice is only a minor character in both movies) 

I love that Mav refers to Ice in the whole movie only by his nickname

I had to keep myself very hard from crying during the funeral scene (if I had watched it alone, I probably would’ve cried) 

[torchflies]

It's impossible to take a bad photo of ice he's spent to much of his life being photographed for things.

Navy picture day and it's his turn, sits knees together hands on knees, chin up, nose to corner, eyes to camera, perfect smolder; the photographer is baffled, impressed and happy asks if he ever did modeling, ice answers honestly "nope I just watched what you said to the guy infront of me".

Every group photo he is there roughly center standing next to people same hieght, perfect shot, even when they try to do a "silly photo" ice looks silly and fun btt also not a single hair is out of place, mans done enough magazine shoots to know how to act chill and laid back and like everyone whilst still looking flawless.

It used to annoy goose as he would try to take candids of people but ice has like a 6th sense for cameras and would just subtly shift in such a way it still looks candid whilst being a perfect flawless photo

SCREAMING!!! I have adopted this headcanon for ever and ever. He’s just so trained that it’s instinctive at this point. He also hates himself in pictures for the same reason and doesn’t like to take them. 😭

The only time he lets himself be natural and messy and real is when he’s with baby Bradley. Ice doesn’t give a shit when he’s got that little boy in his arms, covered in grass and hair all messed up. He’s too focused on that little boy to care and it’s Slider and Mav who adore those pictures most — because they never get to see pictures where Ice is gross and human and real.

[whohasthecards]

Hangman, like Mav, was always sent on suicide missions. However, unlike Mav, Hangman didn't have a guardian angel like Iceman or the other Flyboys who would have his back after Top Gun. And unlike Mav who had the Flyboys, Carole, and Bradley, Hangman didn't have anyone to look forward to after his deployment. He had Javy, but Javy would move on.

It would be better if he was the one who died. No one would mourn him. No one would miss him.

That changed with the dagger squad

Hangman got sent on a last minute mission where the Dagger Squad, and even Iceman were not informed until he was already flying in the air.

Once Maverick and Iceman reviews the details of the mission, their blood went cold once they both realized that the mission was unnecessary reckless, and dangerous. It was bad enough to be considered a suicide mission.

But it was too late to call off the mission, it was all up to Jake and his team now.

Mav and Ice spend their days worrying, especially with Ice burying himself in paperwork trying to figure out how this flew under his radar. The Dagger Squad notice their tenseness, but they weren't told what was going on because Mav and Ice didn't want to worry them.

During the mission, Hangman broke several rules and direct orders to save his colleagues and by extension, his life, and he got a dressing down immediately after landing his jet. He wasn't brought to the sick bay, he was immediately brought to the office for an extensive debrief, where all of Hangman's actions were scrutinized and judged. Hangman stayed calm.

Maverick and Iceman arrive because they were keeping tabs and come in while Hangman was getting yelled at. Maverick looks at Jake, taking note of his disheveled looks and tense jaw, and how behind his steely gaze was an undercurrent of deep exhaustion. Iceman noticed how the commanders were reaming into Jake for every single, little, thing, when it was a miracle that there was no casualties on their side. Jake's actions saved the mission that was destined to fail, and saved the lives of the other aviators.

Maverick and Iceman loses their shit.

How dare they not care about their aviator? How dare they recklessly send them to unnecessary suicide missions? How dare they act pissed at the aviator that save the mission and their lives?

---

Mav felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping his tirade at the Admiral in front of him. He turned and his glare softened once he realized it was Jake, unsteady on his feet, but gently holding him back.

"What is it, buddy? You can sit down, you don't have to keep on standing," Mav fretted as he tried to get Jake to sit down on the chair.

"It's okay, pops," Jake said giving a small smile. "I was the best choice for the mission, especially missions like this, it's better that they send me, instead of someone that has a family."

"No." Iceman simply said. "Don't say shit like that Lieutenant Jacob Seresin."

"But it's true--"

"Enough, Jacob, it is not true, and we will be discussing this later," Ice sternly said as he turned back towards the admirals. "No one should have been sent to a mission without enough preparation and analysis, and you shitheads barely did any. You made my aviator fly, blind. Your careers are done for."

"Come on Jake, let's get you to the sick bay, let Ice take care of this, okay?" Mav said forcefully leading Jake out of the room to get the care he needs.

---

(Once Jake gets back stateside and the rest of the Dagger Squad finds out what happened, he gets showered by affection from all of them proving that he has been missed and he will be missed.)

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 30/? 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 FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN (interlude) ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY (interlude) TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT TWENTYNINE

Reminder that decade chapters are Ice/Mav interludes.

CHAPTER THIRTY INTERLUDE (Ice / Mav)

                They have a few episodes to catch up on now, because Pete’s been away training and he promised he wouldn’t watch without him. He’s been itching to watch, getting more and more impatient. Mainly due to Slider sending him a message with I know something you don’t know followed by a row of shit emojis, interspersed with the exploding head. He’s not sure what it means, but he also hadn’t known how to respond at the time. It had prompted Slider to call him, which had been nice, except Slider had gotten annoyed about something before saying he needed to go and talk to someone, and that to call him if he needed anything.

                Cryptic bastard.

                Mav gets home and they settle in, bowls of pasta which has become the go-to comfort meal for Mav to eat while he watches Bradley strut around a kitchen looking happy and competent and, he suspect, safe and well. They get through the first two episodes, and there’s drama around the new restaurant, and orders being wrong, and then there is Violet, the young woman who refers to Bradley as her cousin. She’s grinning into the camera, telling them they have a surprise for Bradley, and he wonders if they’ve flown over some more of his Italian family and friends. They’ve done that before, and it’s sweet to see Bradley be so loved that are allowed to be close to him.

                Then the screen is blurry, but the blurriness immediately reduces to be centered around one figure. Violet is talking to the blur like it’s an old friend, laughing and joking. But Tom’s eyes are caught on the fact that the blurred figure is very clearly in uniform, and only the top half is blurred. He’s leaning forward, and he notes Pete is as well, not that his attention was anywhere else, but he’s now lazer focused.

                “This is Bradley’s boyfriend,” Violet is saying to the camera. “We’re going to surprise him. He’s back early from his deployment so Bradley isn’t expecting him.”

                “He has a boyfriend in the military…” Pete says, and his voice is doing something odd and pitchy, but Tom is already running his head through any and all deployments he knows of that finished early, because this isn’t just military, but the man is wearing brown shoes, which is something he’s familiar with. Mav hasn’t picked up on it yet, seems to be squinting as if it will somehow make the blurriness fade into something he’ll recognize.

                Aviator.

                Bradley’s boyfriend is a naval aviator.

                What are the fucking chances.

                “Yeah,” Tom murmurs, because this is what Slider had been teasing him about. Not only did Slider know about the boyfriend but Tom would put good money on him also knowing exactly who it is.

                On screen Bradley’s face is completely lit up, then he’s kissing his boyfriend. At least Tom assumes that’s what happening behind the little section of blurred image. He feels a surge of pride and happiness that at least Bradley never had to deal with DADT, is clearly happy and well adjusted and his boyfriend is clearly happy to kiss him with an entire film crew recording.

                “Can we find out who it is?” Pete asks

                “By we I assume you mean me...”

                “Of course.”

                Tom could just ask Bradley. That would be the easiest solution. And the one Slider will definitely push him toward.

                Except Bradley hasn’t shared this with him, and that hurts.

                He hasn’t asked, either. Because he doesn’t want to pry. Doesn’t want to be that asshole parental figure that is always asking about a partner, or kids, or a wedding. He knows what that’s like and he’s tried very hard to avoid that. Except if Bradley thinks he doesn’t care then he’s over-corrected terribly and he will need to ring Bradley and let him know that is definitely not the case. But first he’s going to ring Slider and pick his brains.

                “Thought I’d be hearing from you…”

                “Yeah well… god, I’d kill for a cigarette.”

                “I thought you quit.”

                “I did. Doesn’t stop me wanting one.”

                “Okay. Well… I’d say something about your oral fixation and Mav but I don’t want to get black out drunk tonight to wipe the mental image. So. Bradley has a boyfriend. I’m assuming you picked up the little detail…”

                “Of course. He’s a naval aviator.”

                “Sure is!” Slider replies, and Tom can feel his overwhelming sense of amusement through the phone.

                “And you know who it is.”

                “Yep.”

                “Are you going to tell me?”

                “Hmm. Thinking about it.” Tom rolls his eyes.

                “Slider…”

                “Don’t you think it’s kind of funny? That despite everything, the kid has ended up with a naval aviator.”

                “Don’t marry them off yet.”

                “They’ve been together over three years, I won’t be marrying them off but I also wouldn’t be surprised to get an invitation in the mail.”

                “Three years…” Tom repeats, a little shocked and now feeling more hurt that for some reason Bradley didn’t share this. What reason did he come up with?

                “Yes. Now, with all the deployments it’s not quite the regular standard relationship, but Bradley knows that. And they… they’re sweet together. Reminds me of his dad that way.”

                That hits Tom like a one-two punch, because what does Bradley even remember of Carole and Nick’s relationship?

                “Call him and talk to him Tom. I think he’ll be more than ready to talk now.”

THIRTYONE

[mitchellpete]

Dating Maverick (Headcanons)

summary: What dating Mav is like. (In ‘86 and in TG:M)

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst

word count: 1278

A/N: if anybody wants a drabble/one-shot or for me to expand on any one of these (or if you wanna just talk about or exchange hcs), drop me an inbox! 

-

1986 (and a few years after-ish)

Maverick is a very gentle lover. It didn’t seem so at first, with how cocky and flirty he might’ve been to catch your attention, but after the second date? So vulnerable and soft with you.

He can sing! Like actually super well. You noticed one day and now you ask him to sing when you can’t sleep. He was kind of self-conscious at first, used to singing with Goose in a playful, rowdy manner, as opposed to softly to you. He grew more comfortable as time passed, and now he likes to sing you his mother’s favorite songs.

But also gets incredibly obnoxious sometimes and will loudly impersonate Elvis while you’re trying to get something done.

Spontaneous road trips on his motorcycle (when he’s able). Dinner in Oceanside. Lunch in Palm Springs. A pick up in Vegas. A day in Phoenix. When? Now! Now?!

Knows the Southwest like the back of his hand, actually. It’s not as fun as flying, but driving through the wide, open stretch of desert with you clinging behind him is one of his absolute favorite pastimes.

Is from somewhere in the Southwest, therefore he absolutely hates the cold. Will have the heater on in the winter time and is not opposed to getting wrapped up in blankets by you. You tease him on how easily cold he gets, and he’ll playfully go “Whatever.”

You frequently find random candid photos of you. Taped to his wall, to his fridge, suddenly framed on his bedside table. He almost never mentions them until you laugh and point them out, to which he responds, “I thought you looked pretty there.” (With a shit-eating grin.)

Definitely has one in his F-14, by the way.

Is very stubborn about his attire. Very insistent on dressing like a cowboy at all times. You had to buy him his first pair of beach shorts.

Loves seeing you in his clothes; he’s crazy about it, actually.

Very cute lunch dates. He knows the best diners.

He likes taking you out for ice cream. Sometimes you share a cone and watch the sunset and the planes soaring through the sky. 

He’s the best kisser. He prefers soft, sensual kissing and it definitely has its effect on you.

He has a habit of leaving paper planes everywhere. Some with love notes in them, others with funny doodles. Sometimes it’s just both of your names written, a little heart in between. 

He rambles a lot. He’s very, very passionate about flying, and about his plane. Though you might not know what he’s talking about, nodding along with a simple smile and asking him a few questions makes him so happy. “Well, no, you see..” And then he goes on and on again. 

At the same time, Maverick can be difficult sometimes. Especially after Goose. Sometimes he feels he needs to be alone, but don’t take it personally. He appreciates your support, but he’s been conditioned to “suck it up and move on.” It weighs on him to have to try, so expect him to be a bit quieter at times, a bit slower. You can sit around with him as he sulks, your head on his shoulder to let him know you need him, and that he’s loved. That he doesn’t have to isolate.

You get to watch him visibly becoming Bradley’s father figure. 

“Hey, about tomorrow’s date. Can I bring the kid?” 

Melting when he’s got Bradley in his lap in front of you, making airplane noises with a french fry to watch Bradley giggle and clap. Your heart swells at how good he is with him.

“Pete.. You can’t take him to watch that movie; it’s not for kids.” His signature grin. “Carole won’t mind.”

-

TG:M

Still sings to you. Or, in general, really. He likes to hum while making you breakfast.

He writes all your dates on his calendar. 

He’s very playful with you. Likes making you double over in laughter because it usually results in you wrapping your arms around him and kissing him.

But he also enjoys when you tease him. Tell him there’s something he can’t do as well as he used to and boy, he will prove you wrong. He insists he’s getting better with age.

He’s still as flirty as ever. Except, you’re already dating, so he does it to watch how flustered you get. He loves making you blush.

He likes pet names. Sweetheart and honey are the ones he calls you the most.

He still does not like proper beach attire. Will roll up his jeans and call it a day.

He loves beach days with you, though. He likes laying back on the sand and watching you sunbathe, or play in the water.

You’re almost scared of phone calls now, with the way you’ve been called and informed of the accidents he’s been in while testing his planes. Though most are minor, you can’t help but worry that the next one might not be.

You’ve cried to him a couple times, making him promise he’ll be careful.

He’s a bigger cuddler at his older age, with the habit of pulling you from where you stand, from whatever you’re doing, and tugging you into bed with him.

He likes it when you play with his hair. It’ll lull him to sleep sometimes. Especially when you gently massage at his scalp, and bonus if you’re giving him kisses too. The fastest way to get him asleep, truly.

Alternatively, he also likes playing with yours. He’ll randomly twirl a strand when you’re in front of him, will tuck another behind your ear, will softly intertwine his fingers in it while you lay on him. 

When he’s able, sleeping in together. As often as he can. 

He notices you so well. If something is bothering you, he’ll make sure to find out what it is. He’s also a very good problem solver (duh, but with mundane things too). You feel like he deals with a lot, so you don’t always take every single one of your problems to him, but boy, when he figures out something is wrong? Expect him to walk you through the simplest of things if that’s what you need. He has an unbelievable amount of patience with you. And if it’s something he can’t help with, he’ll at least want to be there with you as you deal with it. He can be the best listener if you need him to be.

Is a lot more domestic and able to settle down. Likes the idea of having a “home” with you. (Not that he didn’t when he was younger, but he feels more grounded now. More grown up. Able to breathe a bit better.)

He makes your coffee just the way you like it. If he’s up before you, he always wakes you up with it, and a kiss on the forehead.

The days spent in his hangar. 

Sometimes, in the summer, a late night thunderstorm will pass through, and there’s nothing more thrilling than cuddling up to him in the trailer, the both of you giggling at the sound of the rain pattering and the loud cracks of thunder. 

But also the days! Though he’ll be occupied with something, you’re always a mere 10 feet away, reading or sketching or entertaining yourself in whatever way you can. Other times you just watch him work. Other times you ask him to tell you his infamous stories, or about his dad. He’ll have sort of a sad smile as he talks, but you know that he loves talking about the past. You make sure to always make room for it in the tranquility of the desert.

[mafiatsunafish]

After the Dagger found out that their Captain can turn into a fluffy black cat, the frequency of appearance of that black fluff increased significantly. His gaggle of accidentally adopted children named him Salem to prevent any suspicions.

Ice: Hello there Salem, have you seen my handsome husband anywhere?

Mav: ICE

(Cyclone definitely noticed the fluffy creature but he said nothing, because he has a soft spot for adorable shits and that cat is certified adorable)

(Sol, I have a reputation to maintain! Stop spreading false information)

Every time he does not require to fly or just does not have the schedule for teaching, Mav would just be hanging around the base in his cat form. One of his favorite things to do is just sitting on stuff and people watching. On a random tool box, on wing of a jet, on the table in the guard box, on the roof (?) or in his beloved Ice arm when the man visited the base.

Whenever he sit tho, his front paws would be hanging in front of him and people love to just wiggle them. Let’s just say that, it’s quite addictive.

Mav: Are you guys done playing with my paws yet? Kids?

The daggers: NOPE

Mav sighing: Alright, 5 more minutes. I have a date with my husband and i believe he would appreciate if I get home one time.

The daggers: THANK YOU MAV

Mav: Things I do for my kids…….

[qin-ling]

aight, time to whip out a wip so i can finish it

for context: this is the one in which slider starts flirting with mav to make ice jealous in the hopes that ice’ll finally do something about his dumb crush. absolutely 100% not to be taken seriously

—

Slider has always wanted to be a fighter pilot.

And sure, maybe he switched tracks back in Pensacola, and maybe it hadn’t been entirely out of his own volition. But it’s not all bad, ‘cause in the end he got assigned to the Iceman, and when all’s said and done it’s probably the closest Slider’ll ever come to fulfilling that childhood dream of his.

Shit’s fucking fantastic, actually. Ice flies like no one else, his hands steady as granite and his focus as unerring as the horizon. You’re never really safe at FL two-niner-zero in a metal death machine, but Ice makes you feel safe, the way he’s unhesitating, calm, always communicating. He’s a born leader, a king on a throne, and he knows it, and everyone around them knows it, too, and up there in the air with him, Slider gets a slice of the glory.

So yeah, shit’s great. Life’s good. Folks like Goose can jab all they want; Slider’s making the best of what life’s thrown at him.

This, though. This is some black magic fuckery.

“Better chop chop, Kazansky,” says the black magic fuckery, his smug little face contorted in a sneer. “Keep waiting around in the air like that and you’re gonna get real cozy with second place.”

“Mav,” says Goose, but Ice grins, wolfish, and snaps his gum in Maverick’s face.

“Gee. Wouldn’t want that, would I.”

“Sure wouldn’t,” says Maverick, eyes curved and glinting beneath the harsh overhead lights, and Slider wants to punch his stupid crooked teeth in. He might’ve, too, but Goose gets in there just in time with an exasperated sigh. He slaps a hand on Maverick’s shoulder and steers him out of the lockers.

Ice watches them go for a single, calculated second, and Slider knows it’s calculated ‘cause it’s the fifth time in as many days that he catches Ice peek at Maverick’s ass on Maverick’s way out. Jesus fucking Christ. Slider hopes Maverick sits on some wet paint later.

Then Hollywood bounds into the aisle, flimsy standard-issue towel dangerously close to slipping off and baring everything, hair wet and scraggly. “Alright, Ice, my dude,” he says, propping his hands on his hips, and Ice glances at him with just the proper amount of polite attention before he turns back to his locker. “You gotta leave some points for the rest of us. At least make it look like a competition. My pride’s on the line, here.”

Slider snorts. “Not his fault you suck.”

“Hey, yo, not cool.”

“Besides, it is a competition,” says Wolfman, appearing from behind Hollywood. He hits the latch on his locker and it opens with a deafening clang. “Just not between you two. What we really need is popcorn, what with the show going on between you and Mav.”

Slider catches Ice pause in his periphery. It’s quick, barely noticeable, just like the way he’d tracked Maverick’s ass in his way-too-tight khakis. Then he resumes unzipping his flight suit, cool as a cucumber.

“And a betting pool,” says Hollywood. “Bet you my ass Viper and Jester are running one.”

“No one wants your ass, Wood,” says Slider.

Wolfman whistles. Hollywood rolls his eyes. “Wow, Slider,” he says. “Woke up this morning and chose violence, huh?”

Slider pats him on the shoulder. “Every day. Now put on some goddamn pants.”

[the-ace-with-spades]

slow down (you're doing fine) sequel unrevised snippet because I'm procrastinating on finishing slow down itself and having Mav&Brad feels

.

The light from the living room turned on — he was covered by the terrace curtains enough that it was merely a warm shade coming from the cracked door. He heard bare footsteps, and a shadow flickering through the heavy fabric, until a familiar figure showed up.

Mav closed the terrace behind himself, plopping on the sandy wooden panels, until he was sitting down on Bradley’s left. He looked at his hands, at the phone, at Jake still left on read on the screen — Bradley switched it off and put it under his thigh.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked. He rubbed his eyes but didn’t look that sleepy either — just a bit tired, in that long-drawn, frustrated way when one wanted to rest but couldn’t no matter how hard they tried.

Bradley shrugged. He probably could sleep, he’d slept after he had done and said far worse things than today. He didn’t want to, it was almost like a punishment, staying awake until he fixed the problem. Until he stopped running away. He couldn't make himself fix anything, staying stagnant as the ball of anxiety and the dread about the inevitable grew.

“Still thinking about Hangman?”

He didn’t answer and maybe it was an answer in itself — Mav gave him an affectionate sigh. 

“You remember that time when my deployment ran longer last minute? When you were about twelve.”

He gave him a glance — it was an out-of-nowhere question. “Yeah I was so upset that Ice took me flying the day after you were supposed to get back. In the Tomcat.”

It hadn’t been long after Ice came back from Bosnia. Bradley had been missing Mav so badly that he would cry himself to sleep whenever Ice wasn’t looking careful enough — he was still a bit messed up after his mom’s death and scared that one day, Ice’d have to tell him Mav wasn’t coming back.

Mav was supposed to be gone twelve weeks but last minute, Ice told him it’d take some more time before Mav’d come back, and it ended up closer to four months rather than three. Bradley had yelled at Ice’s face, then cried in his arms for about an hour, until he fell asleep, begging him to get Mav back to them.

“It didn't run over,” Mav said after a moment. His breathing was loud and Bradley saw him shake his head in the corner of his eye. He turned to face him and Mav’s eyes were already waiting at him, full of regret and fear, his mouth just slightly quirked. “I didn't know what I was doing, Bradley. Both my best friends were gone, I was never supposed to be a dad and here you were, completely dependable on me having my shit together, and then we were doing so well with Ice, and it was just so much—”

He hadn’t known. In his eyes, they always seemed to have a grip on everything, always seemed to have the answers to all of Bradley’s problems. They were the heroes of Bradley’s life.

“I knew I was going to fuck it up somehow, you and him, and I thought, better sooner than later, right.”

It was familiar — waiting on the other shoe to drop, and when he had been waiting and waiting and nothing fell on his head, removing himself from the situation before he got hit. Better to disappoint from the start than wait infinitely until they find you out for who you really were. Can’t be hurt if you never let them hurt yourself. Can’t hurt them if you’re not long enough for that with them.

That was a lie, no matter how hard he’d pretend to believe it — there was always someone hurt.

“So I didn't tell Ice anything and stayed in Virginia instead of taking a layover flight to California with everyone. Gave Merlin a letter to hand Ice when he met him at the airport and realized I was nowhere in sight.”

Bradley had always thought he was a coward, not facing Jake, just leaving in his absence when things became complicated, when they became too tied to each other. Maybe it was a family thing.

“I can't do it, please don't wait for me. Take care of Bradley. That's all it said.”

Mav creased his eyebrows, shook his head, almost like he was doing it at his past self.

Bradley didn’t know what to say.

“Took me almost three weeks to get back in my right mind. I showed up at home at two in the morning absolutely ready to beg him to forgive me and instead he told me to stay quiet so I wouldn't wake you up and then said I'd be doing laundry and the dishes for a month if I didn't go straight to sleep. Slept with me in the same bed the first night back, even."

Mav bit down on his lip, huffed, just a tiny, humorless sound, and looked at his hands — he was twirling his wedding ring around on his finger.

“I don't know how I could even think that I could ever live without you in my life, those three weeks. Both of you.”

That was the difference between the two of them. They might have both been cowards, running away from something great, that could turn bad at any moment — Mav came back.

Mav came back and Ice was already waiting for him, expecting him back. He faced the consequences and fixed everything, faced the option that he could fuck it all up at any moment and accepted the risks to gamble for something better and sweeter.

Mav kept on trying. Bradley’d only kept on running away his whole life.

He had been running so long that it didn’t feel like he could stop. Like he deserved to stop.

"So I could tell you that you deserve him but I know it's really hard to believe it, sometimes, and no amount of saying it will change your mind," Mav continued. "But it’s not about deserving him. He chose you, Bradley. He chose you, who are you to decide he’s wrong?”

Bradley—blinked. It was impossible to hear, to understand — he’d always thought it more as if Jake was sentenced to loving him. People didn’t choose their sentences.

They did choose to commit the crimes.

“It’s hard to believe you deserve it, but he chose you and he’ll keep choosing you,” Mav said and the wobbly note of familiarity made him felt dangerously seen. “So until you can believe it, you try your best to be the man he deserves to have, until you’re ready to believe it. You come back, how many times it doesn’t take—"

He bit down on his tongue, taking in a big, unhelpful gulp of air. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t stop it, the wetness itching in his nose even as he squeezed his eyes shut — Mav bumped their shoulders just as he sniffled stiffly.

"I think we should have talked about it more, show you more that we struggled too. We always tried to keep you out of the loop if we thought we could make it without you being affected and I always thought that it was just something parents were supposed to do," he said. "Maybe if we didn’t then you wouldn't feel like this now."

Bradley could only shake his head rapidly, because that wouldn't be true. His parents did his best with him, he had been doomed to turn up a little fucked up the minute his dad died, at least, if not the day his mom herself got orphaned and met Mav in the foster system. Maybe their family was just meant to turn up all bent out of shape.

[redfurrycat]

🤠🐓🏍️☃️The Rooster☃️🏍️🐓🤠

(Based on this article, picture included!)

Post-Mission.

Icepops gifts Baby Goose a two-seater plane, just like he did for Mav.

"Good to have you back, kiddo."

*

After THE talk, Bradley shyly asks Mav to help him repair the old bag of ass, and it's going to be their dad & son project, their bonding therapy.

Then, Bradley and Ice handle the artistic customisation of the plane. It at some point evolves into a paint war in Mav's hangar.

(Dadmiral COMPACFLT is ruthless.)

"WHO THE HELL PUT PAINT ON MY KAWASAKI?!"

*

When The Rooster is finally done, Bradley is in the pilot seat, waiting to see who's going to be his RIO/WSO. He has to plug his ears, because his dad and pop's bickering ends up being about who's going to offer the best sexual favour in exchange of being the first to fly with Bradley.

"Ugh. Why me?!" he complained fondly, bonking his head repeatedly on the window pane.

*

The third person privileged enough to be Bradley's backseater, is Hangman.

As a 'thank you for saving our lives, I knew I was right to make you the Spare', he was invited at the Hangar to go nerding with Mav about the P-51.

Supposedly.

What happens is Bradley going all smoothly with -

"Fancy riding the Rooster?"

*

Also Jake gets to see THE pictures on the hangar walls, including baby pictures of Bradley, and 'holy shit, is that...'

"Sir?!"

[ladywaffles]

Dearest lamby what about icemav + 1 for the drunken love confessions if it inspires?

i am so sorry this is literal months late but i hope you enjoy!

“I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”

Slider is the first of them to get married.

He’s the last of them to settle down.

Merlin and his girl have done everything but the big white wedding; Maverick, who despite all evidence to the contrary, is a good, Church-going boy, looked like a cartoon character with his eyes bugged out when he realized that Merlin and Sandra had been together for the better part of two decades and hadn’t gotten married. They’re on their third kid and second house, and they have no intention of tying the knot any time soon.

It had become clear sometime around the time the Berlin Wall fell that Ice and Maverick were never going to have a formal wedding ceremony.

At least, it appeared that way to Slider. Ice and Maverick were circling in a stupidly elaborate mating dance that involved constantly competing on their hops and calling each other dumbass and denigrating their respective ability to operate a jet, while also glaring down any aviator who ever jumped in on the conversation—even just to tease!—as if to say, No, you fucker, you are not a part of this. You do not get to call this man lesser-than just because I can, you are not me, you have not earned the right to look at us.

It took a while, but Mav and Ice finally got their shit together (thanks in no small part to Slider and Merlin’s meddling, you’re welcome, asshats), and sure, they can’t get married in any way that the government would recognize, but somewhere along the line they turned into boring DINKs who doted on Bradshaw’s kid when they were stateside.

So Slider’s the first one to get married, and therefore the first one to get a bachelor party. They’re well into their mid-thirties, and it’s the first bachelor party they’ve ever thrown.

Well, except for Maverick, who was one of only two witnesses to Nicholas and Carole Bradshaw’s elopement, and who loved both the bride and groom so much that he wasn’t going to let the occasion go by without a Maverick-sized bang.

So God help him, Slider puts his fate into Maverick’s hands. It’s not the first time in his life, and it certainly won’t be the last, but giving Maverick free rein still sends a chill down his spine. He’s not a bad guy—Slider never would’ve let Ice get tangled up with him if he weren’t—but there’s something about him that could make even the most hardened naval aviator flinch.

They start off the night at a respectable Navy bar. Maverick buys them all a round of shots, and with a smirk, breaks out one of the three phrases he knows in Russian (To our health!) and downs the shot in one go. Slider, Ice, and Merlin follow suit. He has to fight a grimace when he comes back up. The asshole bought them vodka, even though the only one of them who still has a taste for it is Ice.

Typical.

Three hours and two bars later, Slider has regrets. He can’t remember how many drinks he’s had, and he hasn’t seen Merlin in at least forty-five minutes. He wants to be concerned about that, but he can’t bring up the energy to care. Mitchell’s all but killed his liver.

He stumbles through the crowd towards the bar, because he thinks he remembers seeing Ice’s stupidly-spiked, gelled hair around there. God, he hopes he still has his wallet on him somewhere. He crashes into a stool and hoists himself up, flagging down a bartender for a glass of seltzer, and she doesn’t charge him for the service. He must be really shitfaced if that’s the case.

He lifts his head when he hears Ice’s voice through the din.

“Mav, Mav!” he laughs. He slurs over the a just a bit, and oh, Ice must be really out of it if he’s tripping over his words.

Slider turns his head slowly to get Ice’s attention, and instead is treated to the image of Mitchell’s shortstack frame trying to support all six-foot-oh of Ice against the bartop.

“I like your stupid face,” Ice says, staring Mitchell down with all the intensity of a bird of prey. “It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”

Ice lifts a hand but is too uncoordinated to follow through. Slider snorts, drawing Maverick’s attention.

“Slider! Hey, buddy! How was your night?” he asks cheerfully, holding onto Ice’s waist.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to kill me,” Slider returns.

“Aw, but that’s how you know I care! C’mon, we gotta get the Iceman home before he ralphs in the bathroom. You know he’d hate to do that.”

So Slider helps his pilot and his wingman into a taxi at the end of the night and falls face-first into the couch in Ice’s living room like he’s still the twenty-something he was when they met, while Maverick wrangles Ice into bed.

And if he hears Maverick’s overly-loud whispering and Ice’s grunted responses from down the hall in the darkest hours, just before dawn, “Do you know what you said at the bar? I wanted to laugh, but you were so sincere, Ice. God. You really can’t hold your alcohol like I can anymore. Benefits of teaching TOPGUN! I like your face, too, Ice. I’ll always like your face. It’s a good face. I love you, Ice,” well…

Perhaps he’s too drunk to remember it in the morning.