#ice wants maverick so bad it makes him look stupid

[katewritesss]

Ice (to Slider): I told you, Sli, I'm not in love with Maverick.

Also Ice (anytime he's in Mav's presence): If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can't you see, you belong with me?

[whohasthecards]

What if Goose was alive and eventually, after the mission, he meets the Dagger squad, and although he is enamored with all of them ("You can't fucking talk Mav, you literally already have adoption papers drafted-", "You're just as bad as your husband, Ice."), everyone notices how he's very fond of Hangman.

Bradley especially doesn't understand as he has told his dad about the incident during the mission training where he almost threw hands with the younger man, Hangman did apologize to Rooster and Maverick after the mission, but still-

Deep inside, he knows that his dad was never the type to hold on to grudges harshly. (Unless it's about pranks. That's a different story.)

---

"Sir?" A voice behind Goose meekly asks while he was stirring a big pot of stew to feed all the old and baby aviators he decided to feed today.

Goose put a lid to leave the stew to simmer as he turned and smiled at Hangman, the younger man hunched over himself and fidgeting, a far cry from the cocky aviator his son and his friends talks about.

"What can I do for you, son? Also, no need for that formal sir nonsense, I'm retired now," Goose says smiling, hoping to ease the kid.

It seems to make the kid tense up even worst, but the kid inhaled and, "I would like to apologize for my comments towards Rooster regarding you and their relationship with one another. I was out of line, and I'm sorry. Thank you for inviting me to your home despite my actions. I understand that you may have only invited me, so that I won't be left out when you invited the whole squad, and I would just like to let you know that that's unnecessary so if you would like me to leav-"

"Woah, woah, kid, slow down," Goose said as he stepped forward and clasped a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you for your apology, I already forgave you when you saved my son and best friend's lives, you're a good man, and I knew you were a great man when you apologized to them. I invited you because I wanted you to be here, son, and don't tell them I said this," Goose leaned forward letting his voice become a soft whisper, "Mav, Rooster, and Ice wanted you to be here too, you're wanted here, kid." Goose said squeezing his shoulder. "I should actually be thanking you even more for saving my son and his stupid godfather's lives, 'smile and wave' tactic, my ass," Goose said chuckling a bit and shaking his head.

He had a front row seat to see Hangman's dumbfounded face transformed a light shade of pink as he averted his eyes.

"I don't like leaving my team behind," Hangman muttered shuffling his feet. "I didn't want to, but I was spare, I left them to go, but my job was to make them come home, I'm glad I was able too." Seresin said looking at his feet.

"I was in the navy, son, pretty sure launching against orders wasn't your job," Goose said smiling softly, "but thank you for doing it anyways."

Seresin shuffled his feet, as he went back to fiddling with his fingers, before he straightened up and look at the older man in the eye. "Well, a proper thank you involves gifts, right? How about I eat everythin' your cooking, hell, even give me first dibs as one of the stars the the show," Hangman said smirking, a confident mask settling into place.

Reminded Goose of a certain aviator.

Goose simply chuckled at that and patted the boy's shoulder one more time before turning back to the food.

"You can get first dibs if you start throwing the salad together," Goose said nodding his head to the kitchen counter beside him with the ingredients for the salad. "Get to chopping and throwing lieutenant," Goose said teasingly.

Seresin put a heart to his chest and gasps, "Making your guest work for his food? Blasphemy. Goes against my heart-core beliefs." Despite the complaints, Seresin grabbed the knife and started unwrapping the vegetables.

"Does hard work go against your beliefs?" Goose teased as he grabbed more ingredients from the fridge.

"Nope, but I didn't think I was the host for the day. Your old age catching up to you, old man?"

Goose huffed out a breathe as he passed by Seresin on the way back to the stove, "Sure, kid, let's go with that," he humored. He set the new ingredients down and ruffled the brat's hair, ignoring the squawk of protest. "Don't forget to rinse the vegetables before chopping."

---

The dagger squad started growing closer to one another, they were on leave and from what he knew, they would be stationed on the same side of the country. He told Bradley that they were invited to come over to his house, and he knew that Ice and Mav have offered their house and hangar to the squad as well.

It ended up with the Daggers seeing each other several times a week.

It was adorable how close they are.

("They keep on getting into stupid arguments and rough housing one another," Mav complained dramatically from Goose's couch. "Nearly took out my table!"

Goose raised a brow at him, "Gee wonder who that reminds me off."

"Makes me wonder if they're grown, sometimes," Mav said shaking his head.

"Kids will be kids, at least they're comfortable with you to show it, plus you were much worst when you were their age, and still worst now."

"Rude.")

He and Jake started cooking more, the kid was an excellent cook, especially behind the grill.

"Jake! I bought some steak for dinner tonight, want to help me grill it up for you and the team?" Goose said, smiling and waving his fresh catch from the grocery store.

"Too much steak is bad for your cholesterol, ya know," Jake drawled but went closer to grab the food, anyways.

"Rude, I'm not that old," Goose said rolling his eyes.

"You were alive and thriving in the 80s," Jake snarked back.

He gave the boy a light head swap for that muttering how the younger generation had no manners these days-

---

"You ever interested in reading comics?" Goose asked one day when Jake was sitting on his sofa.

"Uhhh, like the movies?" Jake said frowning looking up from his phone.

"Blasphemous, stand up, they are not like the movies, they are a different form of art."

---

"You ever baked a cake before?" Goose asked letting Jake into his home.

"I feel like this is going to become another case of me and experiencing unpaid labor," Jake drawled.

"Your payment will be in mocha-extra-chocolate cake, is that acceptable?" Goose said moving towards the kitchen, smirking as he heard the boy's footsteps following him.

"Can we put cherries in them?" Jake asked moving to clear the counter.

"Sure, son," Goose said smiling.

---

"Why is he wearing my shirt!" Bradley exclaimed pointing at Jake who was chewing cereal at the kitchen table.

"He came here after his jog, and his shirt was drenched with sweat, we wouldn't want him to get sick, would we?" Goose said setting another bowl for his son, as he sipped on his coffee.

He didn't know how those two had so much energy in the morning.

Bradley pouted and sat down, "He better not touch my other stuff."

"Why would I want to touch your other stuff, I don't want anymore chicken feathers on me," Jake said wrinkling his nose.

"Asshole."

"Dickwad."

"Jerk."

"Chicken shit."

"Okay boys, enough, and eat your cereal. Go play nice or something after breakfast," Goose said rolling his eyes as he ruffled both of their hairs as he walked to the living room to watch the morning news. Leaving the sounds of protest behind him.

Children.

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

You're killin' me!

Quick summary: Phantom and Maverick have had their fair share of head-butting – competition, ego and feelings don't mix well, apparently. Finally, however, they seem to reach a peace after a day on the beach.

Word count: 3K (getting into writing these shorter fits woo!)

Warnings: Kind of angsty but also you make out so like is it really that bad; allusions to smut; lots of swear words; yeah, not much for this, it's pretty PG.

A/N: YAYYY, I'm back, sort of but also not really but also ENJOY THIS FIC. Yes, technically it is an extract from an unfinished chapter of the mav x reader Wattpad story I'm halfway through writing (yes, I have a wattpad, it's called nonoitsnina), and maybe (BIIIIG emphasis on MAYBE) I will do a second part where y'all actually fuck and stuff but for now just take this. If anyone's still slinking around the Top Gun stuff, that is. Also, Bee is your RIO here. Just to preface. And Phantom (YOUR CALL-SIGN) shortens to Tommy or Tom from time to time but like if you read the Wattpad book (YES I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A SCARY 14 YEAR OLD) it makes more sense. OKAY ENJOY COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED HAVE A LOVELY JUBBLY DAY

***

Stupid smiles plastered bright across their faces, Bee and Goose are already dashing down the road, speed-walking like a couple of suburban mothers, one swathed in a beach towel and picnic blanket, the other lopsided with a half-empty cooler grasped in one hand. 

I watch them go, brow furrowed, over my shoulder, slightly disconcerted. 

“I guess they—” Mav pauses, then huffs, equally as confused, “—really wanted those ice-creams.”

Sure. That’s why they keep glancing back at us and giggling like idiots: ice-creams. 

Maverick and I are strolling along the boardwalk back home – despite washing my feet at the tap, there’s still sand between my toes that tickles my skin with every step, but I could care less. He’d asked if I wanted us to take the bus—but I’d said no. Call me a loon (Bee certainly would), but, even after a full day of work—or play—nothing beats sitting outside in the quiet. Except sleep, I guess. But, when I can keep my eyes open, looking out a good view—and, boy, is this watercolour sunset some view—is perfect. After growing up in a city full of dust and cracks, I’ve embraced it: I’m gonna be one of those old ladies in a rocking chair on her porch, day and night, night and day.

Having just finished my own crêpe, I eat Maverick’s. When I ask him if he’s bothered by it, he tells me he’d bought them both for me in the first place. 

Sweet. Y’know, I really thought I was a good judge of character. I had to be, to be fair, growing up, pursuing this career – you must always assume the worst until proven otherwise. That’s the safe way, and it’s served me well. Until it had me screaming and yelling at everyone. That’s not—right. It makes me absolutely nauseous. 

So, all of these estimated traits, good and bad, have either been tossed or been filtered out.

It boils down to Maverick and his easy grin. He walks along the edge of the sidewalk, just looking at me with that goddamn easy grin. I’ve half a mind to slap him, just to give me a break from his attention. It makes me horribly self-conscious, forces a little thrill on me, like when you’re at the apex of a rollercoaster, just about to tip over. It feels like that, but it also feels like light streaming through a half-blinded window, so the warmth just collects there on the sill so that, when you touch it, you wish you could roll under it like a blanket. Of course, that warmth accumulates. I’m sweating. Like—a—pig. 

Jesus, I want to scream into my hands with how good he looks. His dark hair is still slightly damp with seawater, stiff in some places and criminally soft in others. Every now and then, he’ll pull at the white button-up that sticks just a little to his chest, to the contours of his stomach, and fan the skin there. Jesus Christ. My hands are basically twitching to touch him there, to feel the heat of him beneath my palm, solid and beating gently with his heartbeat. I clasp my fingers very tightly around my fork, my crêpe slip, concentrating it all into one point. 

I can’t tell if feeling like this is the best or the worst. Jesus, imagine if the other guys knew. They’d never shut up about it. Christ, they’d never take me seriously again. I don’t want to be the “girlfriend” – I want to be a formidable pilot. So many people just don’t think those two things can ever coexist. 

Not that I want to be a girlfriend. I couldn’t say that word out loud without feeling wrong. I’m a lot of things, but I don’t know if I could be that. 

A bike passes with an urgent ring of its bell, and Maverick twists his body in towards mine, hand hovering over my back, to push me out of the way from it. 

I go blank, scrambling to remember where we were in the conversation, mouth dry.

“So, you’re telling me,” I begin, grinning, “going into Return of the Jedi, you hoped that Luke and Leia would end up together?”

Mav sighs and rolls his eyes, tearing off a little of what remains of the crêpe. ‘Well, at the time, I didn’t know they we’re fuckin’ siblings—”

“Maverick, that is incest.”

“Come on!” he laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world. “Goose thought so, too! Luke’s the main guy, so, like, it’s not not logical to think he’d get the main girl, right—?”

“But it’s Han Solo!” I exclaim, throwing my head back with a snort. He smiles down at me, eyes warm, in a way that I’m probably misinterpreting and will replay over and over in my head when I’m trying to sleep in bed tonight. “I thought you’d be a Han Solo kind of guy.”

“What, I remind you of him?” He tosses his head back and smoulders. I fake a gag.

“Well, he’s just—he’s just—” I trail off into laughter. “He’s really—I can’t explain it! If you ask any girl, she’ll know what I mean. Han Solo is so—” I giggle again, remembering how stunned and attracted to him I was when I first watched A New Hope in the theatre. “He’s just a lot of things.”

“Oh, yeah?—like what?”

Gosh, I can feel myself burning up – does he have to lower his voice like that? Does he have to try and catch my eye? God, it’s almost easier to hate him, to be honest – at least then I wouldn’t be acting like such a puddle.

“Like, charming and daring and, um—and clever, and—I don’t know. It’s just the way he speaks or something.”

He hums, hands in his pockets, his dad’s jacket draped over his forearm – I don’t think I’ve seen him go anywhere without that leather jacket. “And you like those things?” he pushes.

I bark out a laugh. “C’mon, Maverick, everyone like those things.” True enough – I could be blind and still fall in love with Han Solo and his smooth-talking. “And why Luke? Even if they weren’t siblings, why him? He had zero chemistry with—”

“Because he’s the chosen one!”

“—yeah, well, he—”

“He’s cool! Luke is objectively cool. He’s a pilot, he’s a Jedi, he’s a leader, he’s—”

“What-ever!” I exclaim, scrunching up my nose at him, and we giggle into quiet. “I’m not saying I didn’t like him as a character – I think he’s an amazing character. I just wouldn’t fuck ‘im.” I cackle at the absurdity of it all.

We continue walking.

Maybe all of this will fade in a couple hours. Maybe it’s the magic of Top Gun, this beach, this dusk that settles in fast around us, the lights that illuminate the darkening boardwalk. It’ll all be over in a couple more weeks, anyway. Bee ‘n’ I’ll go back to the carrier and be on with things, and Maverick will do whatever it is that he does. I know Goose says we should make plans to meet after school’s out, but who really has the time to spare? So, thank God Mav didn’t ride in on his motorcycle, ‘cause, if he’d insisted I hop on and wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder and la-la-la, I’d be in great danger of sleeping with him.

“D’you wanna head straight back?”

I look up at him. “Hmm?”

Jesus, he needs to tone down his looks or something – it’s disarming, a hazard, really. Those green eyes are givin’ me some mean butterflies, alright. Nowadays, I’ll see him fresh out of the sky, hair spiky and dishevelled with sweat – he doesn’t wear helmet hair as well as others, that’s for certain – and I’ll have to bury my face in my locker. I’ll see him absentmindedly chewing on his dog-tags, and it’ll have me air-headed for the rest of a lecture. I can’t classify it as a distraction, but it’s—certainly not intended. My head isn’t screwed on so tight, and I can’t keep tipping up in the cockpit – I know my ambition to win and these thoughts about Maverick have no correlation, but, good God, maybe if I could just focus more in classes—

“There’s—” he starts, then swallows. “We could go to the pier. Not really a view anymore, but we could see some lights. Boats, maybe.”

“Yeah,” I reply, excitement jolting through my body.

“Yeah?” I nod. He smiles. “Okay.”

When he asks me if I’m cold, he readjusts his jacket on his arm, like he’s already made his mind up to lend it to me. Of course, I shake my head – I’d probably end up stinking up the damn thing with how much I seem to be sweatin’.

We take our time to the end of the pier. When we reach the railing, we step up onto the bar and lean out to look down at the softly lapping water.

“You—erm—”

I turn to look at him, and the stutter of his words stops abruptly, his eyes wide. He looks at me dumbly, like I’m one of the seven fuckin’ wonders. Now, I’ve seen Maverick drunk, stupid, and downright embarrassing himself—just think of the time she lost that fuckin’ lovin’ feeling—but, even when he doesn’t know something, he always keeps face. He always has something to say. Now?—now, here, he looks hopeless.

“You—”

“I what, Mitchell?” I grin, shoving my hair behind my ear in light of the strong breeze that suddenly billows in from across the sea. “Watching the ships, right?” There they are: little dots on the horizon.

He flushes, snapping his attention away. “Right.”

I know what’s coming – I pick up on all of it: the fidgeting of his hands, the downcast dart of his eyes, the way he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Though it kinda perks me up to begin with, I just end up wilting again at the reminder of a certain instructor who I am evidently not.

Still, it’s nice to hear him say: “It’s just—” I tilt my head towards him, “—I think you’ve got great eyes. Great everything really. I dunno. I think—you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I snort. “That 4% really got to you, hey, Mav?”

He doesn’t laugh, just pauses, takes a second to think about what he’s going to say. “I—don’t know—how to say it.”

My heart drops—in the bad way. “What?"

“That I think about you—a lot.”

Oh, Christ. I let out a deep sigh, and, immediately, his face drops like a stone. “Oh, don’t do that, Maverick.”

“Do what?” he protests through a weak smile.

I recoil just a little bit: he’s a flirt, yes, but I didn’t take him for a dirtbag. “Do what?” my ass. He knows what. Blonde-hair-and-bright-eyes, who’s what. Think of how smart she is, how accomplished she is, how beautiful she is, how level and respected she is – all of these things and a man can still write Charlie of as not that big a deal? That’s fuckin’ low.

“You’re being mean,” I tell him firmly, trying to force down the disgust that pushes under my tongue and the embarrassment that burns over my cheeks.

Maybe Carole and Goose really weren’t exaggerating. Maybe he has got eight women all lined up for him, just waiting for him to call.

His hand makes to touch my shoulder but doesn’t end up making contact – it just hovers, unsure. Either way, I wasn’t going to let it happen. Either way, I find myself scurrying back, away.

Mav has the audacity to look confused. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to—”

“So, what?” I snap, hopping down from the railing and scowling unabashedly at him once more. “I’m one of those girls you string along?”

He laughs – only, it’s not cute anymore; it’s fucking annoying. “No—!”

The wind blows strongly, warm, still, but with the promise of a storm. I have to raise my voice in order to get myself across, I tell myself: “What?—you wanna challenge yourself, or something? Me and Charlie—?”

This?—this seems to piss him off. Mav’s expression crumples into indigence as he protests strongly again, “No—!"

“But—”

“Phantom,” he presses desperately, eyes pleading for me to listen – I’ve seen that expression on him before; every time I’ve ignored it, I’ve ended up regretting it, yelling myself silly over a misunderstanding. So, I pause. I listen. The urgent haze fades away within the span of three deep breaths.

“I wanted Charlie’s advice on how to speak to you. I was nervous—am nervous—and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. She’s very—to-the-point. And Goose and Bee fluff like their lives depend on it.”

Nice one. Nice going, Tommy: do what you do best and throw a fuckin’ rage, why don’t you?

“I thought you didn’t like me—” I say to him dumbly, “—after what I said to you.”

We don’t talk about that argument in the locker rom. We don’t talk about the one after volleyball either, or the one in the air. It’s no excuse – that Viper is breathing down my neck, that I know Skipper expects highly of me – to act like a dick to all the competitors that block my way to that damn trophy. I need to climb this hill.

And here Maverick is, thinking about me—a lot.

“Your opinion matters to me more than you’d think,” he admits with a snarky, little snort. “You’re—” he trails off; the gale dies down. “You’re just—I don’t know how to put it. I’m—not great at the serious-talking stuff.”

“Embarrassed?” I tease. God, I know I am.

He grins. “A little bit.”

We make our way back to the dorms, talking. He tells me he’s liked me ever since this one lecture at the beginning of Top Gun—after the induction, after the bar, after the first exercise—when he’d said something dumb in response to Charlie’s criticism. According to him: “You turned back and looked at me and—and you just smiled. God, I dunno – I just couldn’t look away from you. Even—even after you, y’know, y’turned back around, I—I was just staring at the back of your head, hoping you’d do it again. That you’d look at me again, smile at me again.”

I don’t even remember that day.

He walks me to the door of my dorm, where the windows are all dark and the blinds all flat shut.

No way to make it up to him. No time, either. Should’ve kissed him right then and there at the bar that first night when he came over to the jukebox. Bee saw it in my face – I know that now. I should’ve let him win that bet with himself.

I might be about to do him that favour now, I guess. All flushed, all pretty, all nervous—he gets nervous?—Maverick is so close to me that the heat of his body radiates onto mine, far too dangerous for my liking. This is not what I intended. This is so far off my plan of how this program was gonna go.

But his nose is brushing mine, and his hands are so warm and gentle as they press over my arms.

“Can—?”

I nod softly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

The kiss, when it comes, is this soft, tentative sink into a brittle release. The gentle press of his nose into my warm cheek elicits a quiet sigh from the both of us – the break from silence must render me into this here embarrassing mess, melting like the ice-cream we shared earlier in the hot sun, because Mav gets that shit-eating grin on his face like he’s watching me lose to him at volleyball all over again. Whatever – he’s the one that probably had to take a cold shower over how I looked.

I cup my hand over the back of his neck, drawing him closer still to me.

Maverick kisses like he’s paying attention to every single detail of it – his eyes are slanted just slightly open, watching my face, and one of his hands rests kindly over my neck, his fingers pressing just a little into the pulse point which I’m sure is racing like a damn horse by now.  

Of course, he’s beautiful at this. Just my fuckin’ luck. Technically, yes, it is prohibited to have sexual relations on work premises. Even a man and a woman behind a locked door is assumed to be inappropriate – I’ve heard that one too many a time by the air boss back on the carrier. I’m far from a goody-two-shoes, but rules are rules for a reason. So, of course, it’s just my luck that I meet an unfairly handsome pilot with pretty eyes and entirely too destabilising a kiss. He trails his nose down along my jaw before burying it there in my neck; I hold him tight to me, fingers curling around the thick muscle of his shoulders.

When we kiss again, it’s different: searing, crushing, slow, breathless. The chorus of crickets and cicadas and other night-things is drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears and the soft noise that slips past Mav’s lips as he pauses for breath, to pant hotly over my cheek.

“You’re gonna have to help me out here, stud,” I mumble helplessly against him, to which he nods fiercely, reaching out blind for the door-knob and guiding me stumbling into my room.

Bee isn’t here – upon the side table, there’s a little, folded note that reads in chicken-scratch handwriting: Staying with Goose for the night. Have fun!

[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.”

[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.

[cowboysandpilots]

Secrets of a 30-Year-Old Flyboy — ch. 3

Fake Roonix, Secret Hangster | Words: 780 | Warnings: Blood, medical stuff, sickness, miscommunications, and boys being stupid.

"They said he had a dangerously high fever, and his appendix burst. That's all I got before they rushed him into surgery." Tears had gathered in the blue eyes behind glasses but he was trying to hold them back, keeping up appearances. Bradley had looked so similar to after the accident, blood on his face and unconscious.

Stepping closer, Mav wrapped his arm around Ice’s waist and leaned into his side. He held him tightly. Mav knew what Ice was remembering. “It’s not like that this time,” he murmured to him. “Appendixes happen all the time. It’s routine surgery.” Maverick didn’t voice that he was worried about the fact that Bradley had been in the air. He’d been sustaining G-force pressures with a bad appendix. What kind of damage did that do? He knew it was normal for the average person, but this wasn’t normal. Because, of course, nothing had to be normal about Bradley.

Phoenix shooed the squadron to take seats. She focused on them to give her something to do while being sick with worry. The least she could do was make everyone give Bradley’s Godfathers some privacy. She felt awful because she had teased Bradley in the locker room instead of asking how he was doing. She’d seen that he didn’t feel good.

While everyone else took a seat, Jake hadn’t been able to do so. He stood off to the side, with his back pressed against the wall. He couldn’t stop the fine tremors that were running through him or the waves of dizziness. "It's not like last time." Ice repeats with a nod, exactly like Bradley would do when he was trying to convince himself of something. A mannerism that he must've picked up from the other man.

"What happened last time?" Bob asks, clearly listening and not reading the room.

Phoenix tried to shush Bob, flapping a hand in his face. “Not now, dude,” she hissed. She knew a little bit about the accident, just a few things Bradley had said or that she figured out.

Maverick turned his glower to Bob. All of his sour attitude from earlier returned full force and once again focused on the entire squadron. “There was an accident,” he said, voice clipped. “Now keep your noses to yourself about it.”

"Sorry," Bob says softly, immediately backing down and looking away like a little kid getting scolded by their father.

It's about 5 minutes later when they're all sitting in the waiting room. A nurse makes his way to Ice and pulls him off to the side. "Sir, your son came in with these on around his neck. We had to remove them for the surgery and want to make sure they're kept safe." She explains, handing two sets of dog tags to the admiral.

Accepting both sets of dog tags, Ice frowned and looked down at them in his hand. He rolled them until he could see the stamped text. Bradley’s and…Seresin’s? He frowned as he turned his attention back to the nurse. “Thank you,” he said, glancing down at the tags again. “He was wearing both sets?” Ice can’t help but ask, not understanding what was going on with this at all. It was bad enough that Bradley was in surgery. He couldn’t focus on much beyond his worry.

"Yes, sir. They were both around his neck when he came in." She places a gentle hand on his arm. "I'll be back to give you updates on the surgery when I have them."

Nodding, Ice looks back down at the tags in his hand before he steps away. “Thank you,” he says again before he returns to Maverick’s side. Sitting heavily in the chair next to his husband, Iceman stares at the tags in his hand for a moment longer before he shifts and slides them into his pocket. He glances at where Hangman is leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room before he turns his attention back to Maverick. “No update yet,” he said with a heavy sigh. “She just wanted to give me his tags, for safekeeping. And Seresin’s as well. Bradley was wearing them.”

Maverick turns and blinks at his husband. "I'm sorry... what did you just say?" He frowns.

“You heard me,” Ice said dryly as he leaned back in his chair and took Maverick’s hand in his own. There was a fine tremor in Ice’s hands that he was trying to hide from everyone else. “He was also wearing Hangman’s dog tags.”

Maverick is absolutely stunned, speechless. "But he... they..." He clears his throat a little. "Are you sure they're not Phoenix's dog tags?" He asks quietly.

——

I wanted to make this one longer but I forgot about Tumblrs stupid text limit. 😭 Thanks for reading! 💕 Donate to my food fund if you want. 🥰

[thebahwrites]

Prompt from @starryinspace Icemav, first date post top gun 1986 cinematic timeline

Just The Two Of Us

“Hey Mitchell!” Tom calls out as soon as he gathers the courage to do so; though he would never admit to fear in the first place.

‘Being the bigger person’ wasn’t Iceman’s thing; coming back from the Layton rescue, now waiting for new orders and yet Tom Kazansky felt like he was living on the edge of a knife. Racing his own emotions and fears to not lose a chance. Much easier when it came to flying death machines, a lot fucking harder when it came to chasing his wingman. 

“You got this.” Slider hums quietly by his side with a half grin, fixing the khaki’s buttons before Tom makes a beeline for Maverick, who’d just tilted his head up like a confused puppy. He doesn’t need the pep talk but it’s nice anyway, right now he has to hold back from wanting to reach for Maverick’s hairs and ruffle the unruly locks. Pete Mitchell, with those stupid big green eyes, laying back in a booth with his legs thrown over Hollywood’s lap showcasing those asinine cowboy boots, he blinks a couple times as Ice leans over the table, arm over the booth’s wall and hand holding on to the tabletop.

Tom gives Hollywood, Wolfman and Merlin a look over Maverick’s head. “Scatter.” It’s a command more than a request or a suggestion but his confidence pulls it off enough that all three men are sliding from there, leaving him to loom over Pete who lets out a loud snort.

“Oh, who died and made you boss, Kazansky?” Maverick teases, turning his position around to lean into the space vacated by Rick, back hitting the red upholstery, one eyebrow lifting. So smug and cocky but Ice can’t even be mad about it, not anymore. He finds it endearing. Tom waits until they’re pretty much alone even though he’s well aware there’s at least four pair of eyes watching them, piercing strongly into his back. 

“No one, I’m just that good Mitchell, keep up.” He snipes back with a smirk and gets Maverick’s trademark one in response. It’s not faux confidence but it’s certainly a lot easier to do it pretending they’re all alone in the world.

“Oh, my bad.” Pete gives him that once over he’s so fond of and picks up a peanut, popping it into his mouth by throwing it in the air with a smooth arc. Show off. “Go on then, whaddya need then, blondie?”

Iceman doesn’t get nervous, Iceman doesn’t get cold feet, Iceman doesn’t get afraid and yet, here he is, almost backtracking on spot. But he doesn’t because Maverick’s gaze is as inviting as it is a challenge, clearing his throat quietly, Tom’s fingers flex around. “Come over to mine tomorrow night, for dinner.” 

There’s a quiet stretch of silence as Pete blinks back and Tom ignores the fact there’s a warm crawl of heat along his cheekbones. “Just the two of us.” He adds for good measure so at least it’s clear what he means by it. Pete can say no, if he wants, this is just impersonal enough that—

“Fuck, thought you’d never ask, Ice.”

Of course, Maverick has the gall to crack open a big smile.

(send me fic & aesthetic prompts for the TG’86 crew!)

[jessybarnes]

Shake My Nerves, Rattle My Brain

Chapter Two: Cold As Ice

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Chapter Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Dick "Jester" Hetherly, and Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI

Tags: Pining, explicit language, suggestive sexual thoughts, drinking, military talk, Goose is getting suspicious, Ice is possessive, and Mav can't seem to get a handle on his new feelings, maybe slight angst if you squint, and I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,8k

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

Title Card: Yours Truly

A/N: This will feature some of the same dialogue from the movies. I do NOT own the dialogue but am merely putting my own adaptation of the movies. :)

"So, what do you think of the competition?"

Goose asks while he does up the buttons on his dress whites. 

Maverick stares in the mirror continuing to mess with his hair for the umpteenth time. Seriously, he never cares this much, so why is his stomach in knots over going to the O club? 

He sighs and braces himself on the sink. Mav realizes he's probably making a mountain out of a molehill here, but how else is he supposed to take the snide comment Lieutenant pretty boy shot at him after they were dismissed? 

"The plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies' room."

Maverick scoffs. There's no way he knew he was checking him out during class, right? It was probably just a challenge. The typical two alpha males butting heads until one of them rolls over, kind of challenge. Well, if that's what pretty boy wants then that's what he'll g-

"Mav! Hey! You listenin' to me?" 

He jumps at the sound of Goose's voice and turns to look at him. 

"Sorry, I uh…I was just ah…thinkin'."

"You sure you're okay, man? You've been acting weird since class this morning." 

Maverick's heart hammers against his chest. Goddammit, why does he have to be so fucking transparent? Maybe he should just wear a sign around his neck that says 'Hello, my name is Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and I've got it bad for a pilot with blonde spiky hair and blue eyes'. 

"Yep. I'm fine. Let's go. I'm ready for a beer." 

The lively atmosphere of the Officer's Club washes over them as they walk through the wooden doors. 

"This is what I call a target-rich environment." 

Maverick smiles up at his best friend before taking a look at all the beautifully dressed women. Goose rolls his eyes and slaps him on the shoulder.

"You live your life between your legs, Mav."

"Goose, even you can get laid in a place like this." 

Nick chuckles, "I'm tellin' ya, I'd be happy to find a girl who'd talk dirty to me." 

They approach the bar and open a tab, taking a seat on the only two open stools in the place. Goose nudges him and nods to a figure standing across the room. 

"Mav, you wanna know who the best is?" 

He moves his gaze in the direction Nick nodded and nearly chokes on his own saliva when his eyes land on none other than Lieutenant pretty boy. 

Okay, he's electing to ignore the fact that his best fucking friend just referred to someone else, other than him, as the best because how in the fuck can someone look so good?! 

He isn't even doing anything. He's just standing there wearing his stupid fucking aviators sipping some mystery drink with a girl hanging off his arm like she needs him to help her stand up. 

Maverick squeezes the neck of his beer bottle until his knuckles turn white. He's never been the jealous type, but seeing this woman give pretty boy 'fuck me' eyes gives him a bad taste in his mouth. 

"That's him. Iceman. That's the way he flies, ice-cold, no mistakes. Just wears you down. You get bored, frustrated, do something stupid, and he's got you."

Mav opens his mouth to respond, but Goose cuts him off, instead turning his attention to someone else. 

"Hey, hey, Slider!" He grabs at the taller man's uniform where he has his pinned wings, "I thought you wanted to be a pilot, man. What happened?" 

Ron rolls his eyes, "Goose, you're such a dickhead."

Maverick snorts at their back-and-forth banter, bringing his bottle of beer to his lips. 

Before he can even think about taking a drink he sees the so-called Iceman stalking straight towards them. 

He takes a long gulp of liquid courage and swallows as Ice stops directly in front of him.

"Hey, Mother Goose! How's it goin'?"

Nick shakes his hand, "I'm doin' good, Tom. This is Pete Mitchell. Tom Kazansky." 

So, he's finally got a name to put with Lieutenant pretty boy's face. Maverick looks him up and down, takes his outstretched hand in his own, and prays to whatever deity will listen that he gets through this conversation without giving himself away. 

"Congratulations on Top Gun." 

Fuck, his eyes are even more captivating up close. 

Mav smiles softly up at him, "Thank you." 

"Sorry to hear about Cougar. He and I were like brothers in flight school. He was a good man."

Pete raises an eyebrow, "still is a good man."

Tom smirks and pops a piece of gum in his mouth, "yeah, that's what I meant." 

God, this guy is infuriating. "Thought so." 

Ice leans in closer, leaving mere inches between their lips and Maverick feels his stomach flip. 

Yep, he's royally fucked.

"Say, you need any help?"

He chews his gum loudly as he waits for Maverick to answer. And while Mav is more than certain anyone looking in their direction can see the panic written all over his face, he still takes a swig of beer to allow himself a moment to ignore all the explicit thoughts he has rattling around in his brain right now. 

"With what?"

Tom leans down so they're now eye to eye and grins, "You figured it out yet?"

Fucking Christ. 

Maverick feels the panic spread as he tries to make sense of what Ice is talking about. Certainly, he hasn't been that transparent in the last forty-five seconds, but he has had shitty luck before. Nevertheless, he does his best to play it cool and pray his voice doesn't come out as shaky as his hands are.

"What's that?" 

"Who's the best pilot."

Even though his heart is beating like a running racehorse, Mav still sees the split second of Tom glancing down at his mouth. 

Is…is Iceman flirting with him? 

No. No way. He has to be imagining this. 

"No, I think I can figure that one out on my own."

Ice chuckles, "I heard that about you. You like to work alone." 

Whatever response Pete had at the ready dies on his tongue because the way Tom is looking at him right now makes heat pool low in his belly. 

It's almost…possessive. 

Slider clears his throat bringing him back to reality. "Mav, you must’ve soloed under a lucky star, huh? I mean, first the MiG, and then you guys slide into Cougar's spot."

Goose scoffs, "We didn't slide into Cougar's spot. It was ours, okay?"

"Yeah, well,  some pilots wait their whole career just to see a MiG up close. Guess you guys are both lucky and famous." 

Slider takes the shot he's been holding as Ice follows suit and licks his lips, which Maverick definitely doesn't hone in on. 

"No, you mean notorious." Tom deadpans. "I'll see you later." He flashes a perfect smile and sets his shot glass down.

Maverick watches him start to walk away and tries not to stare too hard at the way his ass looks in his dress pants. "You can count on it." 

After a long night of avoiding questions from a suspicious Goose and barely any sleep, Maverick groans as he takes his first sip of coffee. 

"Ugh, I'm never drinking again."

"Yeah, you said that the last time we went out. Nick laughs and jingles his truck keys as Mav winces. "C'mon, we're gonna be late for class." 

Even though they were currently in the shade,  the hanger barely gave them any relief from the heat. 

Jester, their first instructor of the day, is talking about getting intel on enemy aircraft from civilians. At least, that's how Maverick understands it. His head is still currently pounding from the night before though, so he can't be entirely sure what's going on at the moment. He'll just ask Goose later on when he can blink without feeling like he's going to hurl. 

"One of the most qualified is our TAGREP, callsign Charlie. She has a Ph.D. in astrophysics, and she's also a civilian contractor, so you do not salute her. But you better listen to her, because the Pentagon listens to her about your proficiency." 

Maverick slides on his aviators and rests his head in his hand. Thankfully, his headache is finally starting to subside. It's not that he doesn't care about what Charlie has to say, he honestly just wants to get back in the cockpit. 

His ears perk up when he hears her talking about the MiG-28 though. He and Goose are all too familiar with that aircraft. 

"However, the MiG-28 does have a problem with its inverted flight tanks. It won't do a negative-G pushover." 

Maverick snorts as Goose leans in to whisper to him, "Are you gonna tell her?" 

Charlie stops mid-sentence and turns her attention to them, "Excuse me, Lieutenant. Is there something wrong?" 

And so Mav proceeds to explain how he and Goose were in a four-G inverted dive in a MiG-28. And even when Ice calls bullshit, he goes on to explain that not only was he in that position, but he also gave the enemy the bird while his RIO snapped a Polaroid.

Class ends a few minutes later when Jester tells them they have a hop to take with a strict hard deck of ten thousand feet. 

After staying behind to explain to Charlie that she can just read the details of his foreign relations encounter with the enemy, he heads up the stairs to do his preflight with Goose. 

Mav rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks. 

"Maverick."

Fuck! He knows that voice. That authoritative, yet still soft, voice that makes his knees weak. He'd never admit it though. Not out loud at least. 

Ice pushes off the cement block he'd been sitting on and is in front of him in two strides. 

Jesus… does he have to stand so fucking close?! 

"I'm curious," he fiddles with the clasp of his watch until it clicks into place, "who was covering Cougar while you were showboating with this MiG?" 

Pete somehow manages to keep his own voice steady, though he's not sure how since Tom's giving him that look again. The one that makes him want to drop to his knees and take what he's given. 

He doesn't, of course, because why on earth would Iceman be into him? He's just being cocky. Something he'd be doing right back if his heart would just slow down for once. 

"Cougar was doing just fine," he grins. 

"Uh-huh." 

Normally, Mav would have told Kazansky to shut his fucking mouth, but instead, he walks away because he can't trust himself around Ice. 

Not when all he wanted at that moment was to slam him against the nearest wall and shove his tongue down his throat.

Among a list of various other things.

[daggerspared]

inspired by the fact that in the pictures in maverick’s hangar, teen bradley’s a brunet. obviously this is cuz they’re miles’ pictures but well

---

“so do you dye your hair now or was this part of your angsty phase i’ve heard so much about?”

jake raises the picture of bradley closer for inspection. the teenager in the picture is definitely his boyfriend—he has all the same facial features except for the mustache—but the second-most glaringly obvious difference is the fact that the curls peaking out from underneath his baseball cap are a dark brunet instead of the lighter honey color jake’s so accustomed to.

bradley laughs a little, hooking his chin over jake’s shoulder to see the picture for himself. “well, mav’s already shown you me as a baby, so i guess i have to admit that teenage-me was trying a little too hard to be cool.”

“a little? babe, c’mon you wanted to join the black parade so bad.”

maverick pipes up from just behind them. “do you want to see the pictures ice took after the first time he snuck out to a party? i’ve kept them for exactly this purpose.”

“the what?” jake asks, delighted.

bradley groans. “mav i thought you said the hangover was punishment enough.”

“oh, no baby goose, this punishment has been 20 years in the making.”

unfortunately for jake’s ever-growing blackmail stash against his boyfriend, they’re interrupted by a buzzing sound from bradley’s pocket. “phoenix,” he says, holding up the phone, “gotta take this.” he presses a kiss to jake’s temple before he crosses to the other side of the hangar.

jake’s attention drops back to the photo in his hand. some surly teenager with a major case of baby face, but also hints of the strong man he’d come to be. 

mav shifts to stand next to him. he gazes down at the picture, the sheen of nostalgia in his eyes. “i remember when we caught bradley with that stupid hair dye all over himself and half the bathroom. we made him scrub it off the tiles, but he was too proud of his new look to be really upset about it.”

jake looks back between the picture of teen bradley and mav, a little scrunch forming between his brow.

it’s funny because, well, a lot of how bradley appears now is all nick bradshaw—his hawaiian shirts, his mustache, his natural hair (though a few shades browner than it was as a child)—but when jake looks at the picture of young bradley with his dark, messy hair and then the man in front of him, well—

“he looks like you,” he finds himself saying. “in this picture, with the hair, and the way he stands, and the way he smiles. he’s so totally your kid.”

when he gets no response, he looks up. maverick’s eyebrows are raised, mouth slightly parted, but it appears jake has done what cyclone could only dream of: struck pete “maverick” mitchell silent.

“except for the height,” jake adds.

bradley chooses this time to wander back to them, situation with phoenix over and resolved. he hooks an arm around jakes waist and leans in, all close and easy. bradley turns towards maverick. “what’s wrong?” he asks at the look on his father’s face.

mav shakes himself a little. he looks at his son. he smiles.

“nothing,” he says.

[sheerfreesia007]

Stupid Cupid #23

Title: Stupid Cupid #

Fandom: Top Gun Maverick

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Words: 1,479

Warnings: Fluff

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo, @athalien

Prompt: Cheesy Pick Up Line

Gif Credit: @skvatnavle

Bob was trying to enjoy his beer at the Hard Deck as the rest of the squad mingled around him. He was nowhere close to being buzzed or even tipsy at this point but he was fully enjoying the craft beer that you had suggested to him. You were Penny’s new bartender and had a knack for pairing patrons to new drinks that fit them perfectly. Normally it took you a couple of times interacting with the patrons to get a feel for what they liked to drink but once you knew them they were always suggesting new drinks for them to try. And each time you suggested something new nine out of ten times the drink would be well received.

Like tonight you had suggested an imperial stout for him and he was pleased to say that it tasted delicious. It was so good that he knew he would be asking for it again next time he stopped by. His eyes lazily darted over to the Hangman and Rooster as they stood at the pool table together quietly talking. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but by the looks of it it had to do with him as their eyes kept glancing over at him. Feeling bold Bob stood from his spot and walked over to the two aviators.

“What’s going on?” he asked them casually before taking another sip of his beer. Damn that was tasty. He smiled softly into his glass and took another sip before focusing on the two men before him.

“Enjoying your drink Bobby boy?” Hangman asked teasingly and Bob frowned softly at his question. He idly wondered where this was going to go but internally shrugged his shoulders before nodding his head at the man. “That’s good. You gonna go say thanks to your girl for suggesting it?” Hangman asked and Rooster smirked at Bob while wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bob said firmly with a shake of his head. “She’s not my girl.” Bob said almost dejectedly and the reaction from Hangman and Rooster was nearly instant. The two aviators surrounded him and Bob immediately felt as if he was trapped between the two of them.

“But you want her to be don’t you Bobby boy?” Hangman asked knowingly and Rooster nodded his head excitedly at the question.

“Stop calling me that.” Bob said defensively and took another sip of his beer.

“But it’s true isn’t it?” Rooster asked as he watched Bob with wide eyes. Bob sighed softly and nodded his head while Hangman and Rooster shared a look between the two of them.

“First step of healing is acceptance.” Hangman said teasingly and Bob frowned at him.

“Anyway we’ve been thinking maybe you should warm up to her and start talking to her more while at the bar. Maybe strike up a conversation to get to know her better and for her to get to know you better also.” Rooster suggested and Bob nodded his head slowly as he took in Rooster’s words.

“That’s not a bad idea. We could take our time getting to know each other.” Bob said quietly and Rooster nodded his head along with him.

“Great! I’ve some great ice breakers for ya!” Hangman said eagerly and Bob looked at him with a sinking feeling filling him. “You could be smooth and ask her ‘Hey do you believe in love at first sight - or do I need to walk by again?’” Hangman said with the widest teasing grin on his face. Bob felt his face flush and knew exactly what Hangman was trying to do.

“Shut up, I can’t say that to her.” Bob protested while Hangman burst out laughing and Rooster scowled at the cocky man.

“Why not? That’s my best line yet!” Hangman insisted while Bob and Rooster shook their heads at him.

“Seriously that’s your best line? Please I got a better one.” Rooster countered making Hangman look at him expectantly as Bob rolled his eyes.

“Alright then let’s hear it!” Hangman challenged.

“Feel my shirt, know what it’s made out of? Boyfriend material.” Rooster said confidently and Hangman crowed with incredulous laughter.

“That’s your best line?! That’s horrible!” cried Hangman. Bob shook his head as he spotted you over at the bar, you were pouring another pint for Jerry a known local. As you were standing at the tap you looked up and spotted him giving him a happy smile and a saucy wink that made Bob puff his chest out slightly in confidence.

Leaving the two arguing aviators Bob walked back over to the bar and took a seat on a stool. You finished handing off the pint to Jerry and walked over to Bob where you leaned on the bar top across from him and smiled warmly at him.

“So what’s got Hangman and Rooster all ruffled?” You asked casually as you nodded your head towards the still arguing aviators.

“They’re arguing over who’s pick up line is better.” Bob told you and you grinned widely at him as your eyes sparkled. “Neither one of them is any good.” Bob said knowing that you were dying to know what their pick up lines were. He watched as you grinned at him before leaning across the bar to whisper something in his ear.

“I was feeling a little off today- but you’ve turned me on again.” You whispered in his ear and Bob felt a desirous heat immediately consume him at your words and implication. He felt you begin to pull away but he leaned forward catching your attention.

“Even in zero gravity I would still fall for you.” He whispered to you and watched as you pulled slightly back with wide excited eyes.

“I think there’s something wrong with my phone.” You told him loudly making him frown with confusion before you spoke up again. “Your number’s not in it.” Bob grinned proudly at your words. Bolstering himself up Bob spoke up once more.

“Do you like raisins?” He asked you and you tilted your head at his question while trying to hold your smile in. “How do you feel about a date?” He asked and watched as you leaned towards him until you were only an inch away from his face.

“Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” You asked him softly in a teasing voice. Bob’s eyes darted to yours before he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Cheers went up in the air around the two of you and Bob began to pull away but your hand came up and cupped the back of his head keeping him in place for a little bit longer. 

When you finally let him pull away Bob was slightly breathless and you were gasping softly to catch your own breath. Your smile was illuminating and blinding all at once but Bob wanted to stay in the warmth it provided. Sitting back on his stool Bob watched as your eyes darted all around his face hungrily making his body warm with the knowledge that you wanted more of him.

“I get off in fifteen minutes. We can go out for dinner if you haven’t eaten yet.” You suggested and Bob nodded his head eagerly as you grinned pleased at him. You then turned around and began helping Penny with the other patrons.

“Bobby boy! Didn’t know you had it in you!” Hangman called out happily as he slapped Bob on the back harshly. Bob was able to save the last of his beer from falling from his hand as he placed it on the bar top.

“So who’s line did you use?” Rooster asked eagerly and Bob rolled his eyes at the question. He watched across the bar as you began to gather your things and looked over at him with a happy smile on your face. “Bob?” Rooster asked as Bob stood from his stool and begin to walk over to where you stood just outside the bar.

“Whose line did you use?!” Cried at Hangman needing to know the answer. Bob turned around as he reached you and smirked at the two aviators.

“My own!” Bob called out and you laughed happily next to him before walking out of the bar with him. Both Hangman and Rooster stood there shell shocked at Bob’s words.

“He’s got his own pick up line?” Hangman asked softly as he felt dumbfounded.

“It must’ve been a good one to if he managed to land a date with her.” Rooster said shocked as he watched the two of you leave the bar with each other. The two aviators stood there at the bar where Bob left them until Phoenix called out to them telling them that they looked stupid standing there with their mouths catching flies.

[startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs]

IceMav Recommended Fic Masterlist

Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell

Key:

❤️‍🔥 - Smut

☁️ - Fluff

💢 - Angst

🍬 - Sweet

📚 - Multi-Chapter

Storm (4 Part Series) by thecarlysutra(AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Eight years after Maverick and Iceman meet at TOPGUN, Maverick is running the program and Iceman is badly injured in combat, which finds him sent back to Miramar to teach until he's fit to fly again.

When and Where by @twowritehands ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

A world where people are given, through reoccurring dreams, 1 to 5 details of their soulbond. The face, the place, the day, the time, or the name. Average is 2 clues. Unlucky bastards get only 1. Lucky people get 3 or 4. No one gets all 5.

Maverick is one lucky unlucky bastard. Even though it is his only clue, he knows exactly where he will bond with his soulmate: Charlie's house. But, as it turned out, Charlie wasn't the One at all.

Now, heartbroken, Maverick wishes he didn't know that That House is The Place.

Because Iceman just moved into it.

Raspberry Beret (AO3) by @abliafina-18782 (AO3) ☁️ 💢 🍬

Symbols were stupid. Everyone had a symbol that was supposed to help them find their one and only, their true match. You would think that a symbol would be something meaningful, like a sun or a mountain top, except life was never that easy.

Or: Soulmate AU, where you have matching symbols with your soulmate

Let me Teach you a Lesson or Two (AO3) by @babygirllinds (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Tom Kazansky is a senior in college, making extra money through tutoring so he can shove his dad’s money in his face when he graduates.

Pete Mitchell is a freshman in college, struggling in his classes and about to lose his art scholarship.

When offered the chance to tutor Pete, Tom is presented with the fact that Pete is everything he wants in a man. The younger man is filled to the brim with anxiety and acts out for attention, begging to be taken care of. And Tom might be the nerd everyone sees him as, but it’s always the innocent ones who seem to have a kinky side.

OR

College!AU where Mav is a bratty twink, with long hair (!!!) & Ice is a glasses-wearing nerd, who has a dominant side. Ice just wants to take care of Mav and tame the brat within.

-

This fic was born from this tumblr (my) post: https://at.tumblr.com/babygirllinds/sorry-not-sorry-but-this-this-is-hot-long/0qe2fmzeldfh

So, I'll Be There When You Arrive The Sight Of You Will Prove To Me I'm Still Alive by @alicentsstark (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

The Dagger Squad find out two things: 1) Maverick is married to someone in the Navy and 2) has a kid with said someone in the Navy. It's too bad none of them actually looked hard enough to see that it's two kids, their own friends to be exact, and that it would come back, biting them in the ass when they made that bet when they began their training.

Callie 'Halo' Kazansky-Mitchell doesn't care about bets, all she's worried about is her Pop's health. It becomes a hilarious distraction nonetheless as she watches her family find their way back to one another. It was true what Slider said, "She may have Maverick's height but she's all Iceman's kid to boot."

or the one where Callie is Ice and Mav's kid, Rooster's little sister in this Top Gun AU

tell me you won't leave by @demiclar (AO3) ❤️‍🔥 ☁️ 💢 🍬 📚

Iceman had been in the Navy long enough to understand how it functioned. Stability only existed where he could control it, in the cockpit, his plane responding to his every touch. Everything else couldn't be relied on. Everyone else always left, sooner or later. Why had he expected Maverick to be any different? 

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell wants to go back to Miramar. Tom "Iceman" Kazansky isn't sure he can live with that.

Rumors from Pearl Harbor. by @compacflt ☁️ 🍬

When Admiral Kazansky first comes to Pearl, he brings with him about half of his previous staff, all exceptionally-hardworking people hand-picked over years—advisors, flag aides, secretaries, ranks all over the board. But his new hires, upon getting acquainted with the old guard, are shocked to discover that his previous staff still hardly knows him at all.

[chicabae]

Rushing for More

Based on @blurrwar tattoo parlor+flower shop au here

Slicemav (Slider/Ice/Mav)

Meet-cute turned into asking out. Hope you enjoy!

---

Shit, shit, shit! How could a 6-year-old escape, he only looked away for two seconds! Mav rushed around the store, looking for Bradley in a terrifying not-game of hide and seek. “Bradley! Where’d you go?!” 

He was frantic at this point, looking under counters and between racks of flowers. Heading to the back room, he heard a giggle. Whipping around, he saw the side door to the alley was open. Another laugh came from the alley and Mav rushed to it. He paused at the doorway looking into the alley and breathed a sigh of relief. Bradley was safe and sound, talking to two people he recognized as the owners of the next-door tattoo shop. 

When he approached, the blond looked up and greeted him with a smile. He had a few floral tattoos peeking out of his collar on the sides of his neck and a few tracing lines going down his forearms. He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and laughed looking down at his companion. Bradley was talking to the brunet crouching down, tattooed arm in Bradley’s grasp as he traced the lines racing up and down. He was broader than the blond, his deep voice speaking gently to Bradley. Piercings took up most space in his ears, rings covering his fingers and metal necklaces jangled together as he moved. The brunets tattoos looked like they went up into his hairline, flowing over his throat and down into his shirt. Just the sight of them caused Mav to short-circuit before focusing on Bradley.

“Hey, Squirt! You need to stop running off, your mom’ll kill me if I lose you.” 

Bradley turns to him, pulling the brunets arm with him. “Look Mav! They’ve got lines like you!” 

“Yes they do, and if you pull any more on Mr…”

The brunet looked up at him, “You can call me Slider or Ron if you want.” Gently pulling his arm from Bradley’s grasp, he stood up and continued, “This here’s Tom, or Ice if you want.” 

Mav smiled, putting names to faces, “If you keep pulling on Mr. Ron, you’ll knock him over.”

The blond kept silent and stared at him before snapping his fingers, “You’re Maverick Mitchell! Goose has told us so much about you!”

Mav felt himself blush, “Really? Not much, I assume, right?”

The brunet, Ron, laughed, “He told us some antics you two got up to, but we heard a little too from our time in the service.”

It suddenly clicked in Mav’s mind, “Oh my God, Slider and Iceman? You guys are like urban legends! I’ve heard so much about you! Top Gun grads, leading the count in air-to-airs and then you vanish at the height of your careers! What happened to you guys?”

Tom’s smile shifted and tightened, he looked down at a snubbed cigarette. “Yeah, that’s us.” Ron looked down at his watch and nudged his friend before going back in. “Tell Carole and Goose we say hi, yeah? And Bradley,” The child looked up at the blond, “be good, okay kid?” and held out a hand for a high-five.

Bradley smacked the hand and ran inside the flower shop with a quick, “I will!”

Turning back to Pete, Tom gave a small two-finger salute and called back, “Later Mav.”

Mav quickly followed behind Bradley, making sure to lock the door to be safe. Making his way to the front of the store he heard Bradley call out, “Daddy!”

“Hey, Squirt!” Goose’s voice boomed and Carole's laughter echoed behind. They chatted as they opened the shop again and Mav grabbed Goose and dragged him to the back.

“Dude! You never told me about them!”

“Them who?”

“Iceman and Slider! They own the Tattoo shop next door!”

Goose groaned and rubbed his eyes, “Geez Mav, did you say something stupid again? They don't like talking about it. They had some bad experiences in the service and wanted out, but that’s just my read on them.”

Mav felt some of the blood in his face drain, “I might have mentioned that they were urban legends.”

“Dude!” Goose cried

“I know!” Mav responded

“You gotta do something, apologize or beg for forgiveness, anything.”

Mav glanced around the store and settled on one of the pre-made flower arrangements. Perfect. Grabbing the bouquet, he found a vase and filled it up. “Take these,” he gestured to the flowers and vase, “out of my next paycheck. I’ll be back.”

Walking out the door and over to the neighboring shop seemed longer than it should have, blood pounding in his ears. Opening the door, a bell rang and Ron looked up from the front desk. Seeing it was Mav, he turned and called for Ice as well. When the blond came out, he stood next to Slider silently. “Can we help you?” the brunet asked.

“Yes, I, um,” Mav fumbled with the vase and set it on the desk. “I wanted to apologize. For before. I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude and invasive.”

The two artists stayed silent as Mav fiddled with his hands, their sharp gazes digging into him. Ice’s sharp blue eyes reminded him of the ocean while Slider’s light brown reminded him of freshly tilled earth. It was Slider that spoke first, “They are fairly pretty.” Ice hummed in agreement next to him. “But I don’t know if it’s enough of an ‘I’m Sorry’ gesture, ya know?” Again, Ice nodded and hummed.

“What can I do? I really am sorry!”

“Well,” Ice spoke up, “There’s that new Thai restaurant downtown we’ve been dying to go to, but we didn’t want to go alone. Does that sound good to you?”

“Thai? What…” Mav paused, not really understanding. “Are you two trying to…”

“Ask you out? Yes, Maverick, we are.” Slider cut in. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Mav couldn’t stop the smile on his face even if he wanted to. “Hell yes, I am.” 

“Great,” Ice smiled back. “See you then, Mav.” The door behind Mav opened and customers came in for their appointments.

“See you then.” He promised and made his way back to Bradshaw Flowers with a skip in his step.

[rose-pearls]

Dawn - training

Summary: Training starts and feelings are getting messy, how will you manage to be in a fake relationship with Bob when Rooster is still gaining your attention.

Italic: memory

Part 1 - Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue

Rooster is facing away from me as I try to get closer to him once again, but he flinches away when I try to touch him.

“Rooster, I know that you are hurt by what he did, but you can’t be mad at him forever he is your family.”, Rooster let’s out a scoff and turns to look at me with anger in his eyes, I have never seen him this angry before.

“If he really was my family, he wouldn’t have pulled my goddamn papers.”, I let out a sigh; I knew that what Maverick had done was bad, but I knew that it came from a place of hurt.

“He was just scared to lose you like he lost your dad.”, Rooster doesn’t even let me finish before turning towards me.

“Don’t bring my father into this.”, this time I scoff at the stupidness of my boyfriend.

“You know that he is one of the main reasons why Maverick pulled your paper, he saw him die Rooster that messes with your head.”, I know I should stop and calm down and then wait for him to calm down, but I can’t he has been mad at the world for three months and refuses to let me or anyone in.

“My dad would have wanted me to fly, and I want to fly to honor my father.”, his voice cracks at the last words and I can see the hurt in his eyes.

“Maybe he wanted you to fly but that isn’t a reason to go on a rampage like you are doing.”, Rooster once again turns his back on me and starts carding his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I am angry and that isn’t going to change anytime soon so if you don’t like it leave.”, I feel my heart stop and my breathing get ragged like someone threw a bucket of ice-cold water on me. He is still with his back turned to me, but I can see it in his body language that he is serious.

“Are you serious? I have been there every day for you since the moment we met! I was there when your mother died, when you got into the Navy and now when you have been throwing a goddamn tantrum for the last three months.”, Rooster looks at me with pain in his eyes at the reminder of his mother’s death and it was probably not a good thing to say but I couldn’t think straight anymore, not when I could be losing him.

“Do you know how much it hurts, to see you losing yourself, flying like you are on a death wish not caring what will happen, like you have something to prove? I am scared every single time you get in the air because you are uncontrollable.”

“Please your brother is worse, and I don’t see you giving him a lesson on how he’s acting.”, I feel anger rising up at the mention of my brother and I want to just scream at him.

“That is not the point Bradley, and you know it.”, I see a flicker of surprise in his eyes as I use his given name and not his callsign.

“Do you remember the last time that you touched me? That you told me that you loved me? That you kissed me and spend time with me?”, I feel tears in my eyes nearly spilling out and the desperation in my voice is hitting a low point. Rooster seems to be rooted to the floor and he can’t look me into my eyes. The silence is unbearable, and I hear my phone ringing knowing it’s my brother calling for our weekly call.

“Three months since you last looked at me with utter love in your eyes.”, Rooster flinches at my words and the tears finally fall. I see him look up and the heartbreak in his eyes, like it hurts him to see me like this.

“I’m sorry.”, I nod softly a whimper leaving my lips from the tears and the pain, but I feel hope blooming, maybe we could move forward.

“But I don’t love you anymore.”, a gasp leaves my lips at his words and more tears are coming down making it impossible to see anything without it being blurred. 

Rooster is still five feet away from me his eyes down casted as I manage to stop the tears from falling. The broken boy in front of me is not the man that I fell in love with, and I don’t know what happened to make him lose himself.

“Look me in the eyes and say it.”, Rooster looks up surprised, but determination sets in his eyes, and he looks me straight in the eyes.

“I don’t love you anymore.”, it’s only a whisper but I hear it clearly and even though I heard the words a few seconds ago I feel my heart being once again ripped out of my ribcage. 

“I’m leaving for a few hours, when I get back, I want you out of here.”, I can’t look at Rooster knowing that the tears will be worse. I hear shuffling and then feel a hand on my arm, and I flinch away from the touch. 

“I really am sorry.”, I nod and after a sigh Rooster leaves the room to go pack, leaving our relationship like it meant nothing. The phone rings once again and I pick it up before leaving the house.

“Jake?”, my voice breaks even through that one word and the tears falling back again.

“Dawn? Are you okay?”, I burst in tears and the only thing I can hear is my brother reassuring words trough the line.

“I need you here, please.”, it has been a long time since I asked for Jake to come before it was for monsters under my bed now it was to have his reassuring arms around me.

“I will be there in ten minutes, hold on princess.”, I sit down on a park bench hoping that the hurt will stop but deep down knowing that will not happen.

I see a car arriving and a blond running towards me and quickly I feel arms around me, and the smell of my brother’s cologne makes me finally break down in his arms.

----

“Dawn! It’s time to go!”, Phoenix voice wakes me up from the nightmare of that night and I feel my hands shaking. She looks at me with a worried look, but I just nod, and she leaves the room.

The Navy has a strict code on hair and clothing, so I quickly start getting ready my mind still trying to think of something else then the past. A soft knock can be heard on the door, and I quickly go there to open the door. To my surprise Bob is there his hands in his pockets looking flustered.

“Bob, hi!”, Bob must have seen my confused look because he just grins and explains.

“Last night we said that we should go to class together, to solidify our fake relationship status.”, I feel the memories of last night resurface and I remember setting that as one of our rules. The fact that this man has remembered it and is going through with this plan just for me makes my heart melt.

“Right, sorry bit of a hectic morning but I am ready let’s go.”, Bob chuckles and waits patiently for me as I take all my stuff.

The corridors are quiet with occasionally someone passing by and looking at us curiously. 

“How did you sleep?”, I knew Bob meant it well, but I couldn’t help but flinch at his question.

“Good enough. You?”, Bob looks concerned at my words, and I tried to give him a reassuring smile.

“It was alright, as well as you can sleep on a Navy bed.”, I laugh at that and nod because these beds were horrible, but it was the Navy.

“You know if you want to talk about it, I’m always here.”, Bob looks at me with a genuine smile and I don’t know what to say, this man really is something. Before I can say anything, we arrive in front of the classroom and Bob looks at me questioningly. 

“So, Lieutenant Seresin what do we do know?”, the both of us start chuckling before I put myself straight and look at him like Cyclone would.

“Lieutenant Floyd let’s get this show on the road.”, I can see that Bob is trying not to laugh at my act and I’m barely holding it together.

“Yes sir!”, we both start to laugh as Bob salutes, and I feel a soft blush on my cheeks because of his accent.

Bob takes his hand out of his pocket and reaches towards me with his hand open, waiting for me to feel comfortable and I quickly take his hand. His hand is soft, but he has a strong grip that makes me want to hold on to them. 

Only a few people are in the classroom, and I can see my brother there grinning like an idiot when we arrive.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence, the love birds.”, I roll my eyes while Bob starts blushing and lead Bob to one of the tables.

“Sorry sis but your boyfriend has to sit next to his pilot.”, the smile Jake gives me tells me that he isn’t sorry at all, and I glare at him before feeling Bob squeeze my hand.

As I turn to look at Bob I see Rooster enter the room with Phoenix, these two looked quite close to one another, maybe there was something there. Rooster looks around the room and suddenly we are looking at each other, it has been such a long time that I shouldn’t be able to read Rooster’s emotion but somehow, I still can. The hurt in his eyes is hidden behind false nonchalance and as he looks towards Bob, he seems to be angry.

I’m torn out of my thinking by a soft squeeze and see Bob looking at me with a sweet grin.

“I have to go sit next to Phoenix, but I’ll see you later.”, I nod not knowing what to answer as I’m still trying to understand what all the emotions are that are running through my mind since Rooster came in. 

“See you later.”, I barely manage to say but Bob takes it and kisses my cheek softly before going to sit next to Phoenix. I feel my cheeks heat up and can somehow still feel the softness of Bob’s lips on my cheeks, that man was a menace and he didn’t even know it.

The briefing quickly starts and all of us wait patiently to see who was going to be our instructor, at the sound of steps I turn around and see, Maverick.

What the hell was he doing here? I see my brother and Coyote blanche at the sight and Rooster seems rooted to his spot, so he didn’t know it either. This was going to be quiet the experience.

“I assume you all know this by heart?”, everyone agrees, and Maverick looks at us with a calculated expression before dropping the manual into the bin, the only thing that we can hear is the sound of it falling into it. 

“So, does your enemy.”, as I said this was going to be something else.

Maverick quickly gives us orders to get ready to fly and as we go to the locker rooms, I feel Bob coming next to me. 

“This guy is one of the best pilots that the Navy has ever seen but apparently also the most reckless, be careful.”, I feel a bit annoyed at that, I was a big girl, and I could take care of myself, but I knew Bob only meant it in a kind way.

“You too!”, I send him a soft smile before going with Phoenix into the locker room. 

The training is rough, and the 200 push-ups are even worse, I had nearly managed to kill Maverick, but the old man had a lot of tricks up his sleeves. It was now my brother’s turn with Bob and Phoenix, the rest of us went next to the radio to listen what was going to be happening.

“So, why don’t we tell everyone what Bob stands for?”, of course Jake would try to annoy everyone in the air, and I can already imagine poor Bob in the air.

“Don’t answer him Bob, want to know what we call him Hangman?”, thank god for Phoenix who always managed to deflate my brother’s ego.

“Wait I got it, Baby on Board.”, Hangman’s laughter can be heard trough the comm and I feel bad for Bob, but why doesn’t he respond or defend himself. Rooster would have already told him to go to hell. I shake my head at this, they weren’t the same person, and I shouldn’t compare them, but it was difficult to see Bob do nothing.

Maverick apparently appears because Bob starts directing Phoenix but after only two minutes, I know that my brother has left his wingman hanging, again.

“This is why we call him Hangman; he will always leave you hanging.”, Phoenix is frustrated you can hear it through her voice, but Bob continues to tell her where Maverick is, probably to distract her from Hangman.

“Phoenix, Bob you are dead.”, everyone groans in the room, and I feel frustrated for them. 

“Phoenix, can you tell me where he is?”, I try not to laugh at my brother’s stupidity, like Phoenix would tell him that.

“I’m dead dickhead.”, everyone chuckles and like a comedic duo Bob follows Phoenix’s lead.

“See you in the afterlife Bagman.”, everyone is now laughing, and Hangman is dead, I feel a smile coming to my face, maybe Bob wasn’t so defenseless after all.

The three appear on the tarmac and start doing their push-ups with a furious Phoenix sending glares towards Hangman and Bob just trying to get through it.

When Bob comes back, he looks exhausted, but I smile at him trying to cheer him up, which seems to work as he sends me a tired smile.

“You did good up there.”, Bob chuckles and cards his finger through his hair.

“Not as good as you, nearly shot Maverick.”, I let out a laugh and smile at him.

“Nearly but I didn’t.”, I was disappointed that I hadn’t managed to hit Maverick down, but it was done.

“You’ll get him next time!”, Bob is smiling, and his dimples are showing which make him even more adorable and his blue eyes are somehow an even lighter shade of blue than this morning. 

We are broken out of our trance when Hangman and Rooster have to go into the air with Maverick and I have a bad feeling about it, Rooster seemed angry and frustrated so it wasn’t going to be good. Bob seems to feel my angst because he squeezes my shoulder in reassurance.

As predicted the fight ends badly and Rooster is hit, which means once again 200 push-ups, but I know that he doesn’t care about that, he is hurt from seeing Maverick again and feeling like he’s got to prove himself.

I quickly say goodbye to Bob before going to the tarmac where Phoenix is talking some sense into Rooster and as she finishes, I come near them. Phoenix looks at me and nods, tilting her head towards him.

“What where you doing there Rooster?”, he seems surprised that I’m talking to him, but he is still in a bad mood and I feel it when he talks again.

“Don’t worry about it, go to your boyfriend.”, I feel the frustration hit me once again and I want to shake him out of all the hurt and anger that he has.

“Bob has nothing to do with this.”, Rooster scoffs but doesn’t say anything else so I ignore it.

“You need to stop this tantrum and start growing up, this is a dangerous mission and if you want to be on it you need to take this seriously and show him what you got. Stop living in the past Rooster.”, my words seem to hit him as he takes a deep breath, but he just nods slowly like he is still processing everything.

I hesitate for a moment but decide to squeeze his shoulder, I don’t know why I felt the need to do it, but I did, and as Rooster looks at me surprised, I feel myself getting lost in his warm brown eyes, so different from a certain pair of blue eyes. 

A loud noise makes us spring apart and I see an F-18 land, probably from training or surveillance. I send Rooster a soft smile before going to toward the Mess Hall, but I am so far in my thoughts that I miss the sight of Bob with a sad frown on his face. 

Thank you so much for all the love!! I am not sure who she is going to end up with but we will see!

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2

if you want to be added to the taglist you can always send a DM or comment :)

[icemankazansky]

Keep seing this really popular fanon (and its def fanon coz there is no canon basis for it) about how iceman has a hardon for rules and I am so confused about where that came from?? because what the movie tells us is that he makes no MISTAKES. That means his maneouvers are always the most appropriate for the situation he is in. And he gets his name from being so cool and collected that you lose it and make a mistake before he does and he gets you. Wheres all this bs about the rulebook from? p1

I think its popular to mischaracterise him like that coz folks want him to be the opposite of mav so bad. Which sucks coz they arent understanding him for who he is, only as an extension of mav. but thats not what he is to mav at all. thats not the conflict. he's not the antag - hes not saying or doing anything wrong and he cant be the protag coz hes too outwardly well adjusted with his priorities already sorted. mav has to get there thats the conflict. when mav does the conflict vanishes p2

Oh, I feel you, nonny. I actually wrote something about this the other day, but I think it was actually a response to another post, so it was easy to miss. Let's remedy that.

Re: Ice buzzing the tower with Maverick after the Layton rescue:

There is this perception of Ice as being aggressively rule abiding, but I don’t think that’s accurate. “Ice cold, no mistakes” means no mistakes, not no broken rules. Mistake means incorrect, ineffective. Did he solve the problem? Yes. What’s his math look like? That’s a different question.

Ice is juxtaposed with Maverick by the narrative, on purpose. Because Maverick breaks the rules so often, I often see this dynamic characterized as Chaos versus Lawfulness, but I don’t see proof of that in the text. What Ice represents, the subject of every argument he has with Maverick, is collectivism. One of the first things Ice says to Maverick is, “You like to work alone,” and when he critiques Maverick, it’s because he’s not considering the other pilots in the air when he flies. It’s not because Maverick is breaking rules. It’s because his attitude is about proving himself, not about working as a team.

More than that, we know that there are rules Ice doesn’t follow. We know that sometimes he’s flippant and inattentive and willfully, knowingly, breaking rules. He hears Maverick’s story about the MiG and calls it bullshit. He doesn’t pay attention in class. He chews gum everywhere, including in the cockpit of his jet at Mach 2. After graduation, Viper calls his name, and he responds to his SO with, “Yo.”

You’re goddamn right he buzzed that tower. He did it on Maverick’s wing to show him he was with him and that he’d follow him even, occasionally, to stupid places, and that’s a promise he kept for four decades. Maverick taught him things, absolutely, and I am very sure that buzzing that tower was the first in a long line of things Iceman Kazansky would do because of Maverick’s influence.

But ice cold, no mistakes does not mean that it was the first rule he broke in his life, and I love that about him, honestly.

[pollyna]

ao3.

Silence is strange, unnerving and new. Pete, Maverick, spent every day of the last ten, fifteen, years swimming and fighting with sounds. In the middle of the sky, of the ocean and on the ground. His RIO's voice in his hears, Goose is his head, bunker mates, Bradley running around, Carole talking and singing along with the radio, the birds and that lonely sailor who used to play an old record player when he was on deck duty. The sound of his neighbour's cats in the middle of the night when he was back home, playin' just outside his window, and Tom snoring softly against his back, his chest and from the floor on nights were things used to go a little weird or Bradley had a nightmare and couldn't sleep in his own bed.

Silence, in Maverick experiences is even worse than death. While Goose was dying the sea was a constant background noise and with Carole it was the machines and doctors and the hospital, dying and living, in spit of her existence. But now, all there is silence. Tom sleeps on his side and even the oxygen machine is silently doing is work. Sometimes Mav wakes up in the middle of a nightmare to realize the nightmare isn't ending because his partner chest is barley moving at all. Tom used to talk and talk and talk for hours, filling spaces and rooms with words and gestures and his own body, moving with the wind and the precision he had behind a cockpit. Silent a lethal until his target was acquired, and then it was a cacophony of life. Now he talks with his hand and his expression, silent and lethal all the same, but Pete can only wait to hear a laugh that never comes. That won't come again. Tom recorded it all for him, words, songs, sounds and discussion, him and Slider playing poker and talking about nothing important, Bradley playing the piano and even them dancing in the middle of room, one of the many times. It's a library of sounds, one he can take with him wherever he wants without feeling guilty. Without feeling guilty because of his mourning and giving someone who is still alive and who's fighting every day to not change that.

Silence is new and unnerving, makes Maverick want to pack a bag and never look back. Tom said, a particular bad morning, that he'll always understand if going away would make him happier, he wouldn't blame him. Mav had broken a plate that morning, don't you dare to say that again. Fuck Ice, I'm not going anywhere. Tom had smile back, soft and sad, his eyes already miles away from their kitchen, probably thinking and adapting to a scenario is already real for him. It should hurt, he does, but Pete knows Tom likes to be ready for everything and hates not being able to fix what it's broken and hurting Maverick. He kisses Tom before leaving for work and when the other man smiles happily and, for a little while their faces are near each other, Pete can hear all the sounds that Tom still does: he's breathing, shifting and his pulse is strong under his finger.

Silence is unnerving, fastidious, brutal and makes Pete scream just to hear something other than nothing. Tom's voice used to be one of his favourite sounds but for now, and just for not much longer he hopes, is out of commission, but Tom is still alive and still moving around the house, in the garden, when he takes his hands and send him out to meet with Laura, Bob, Hondo and Penny, so then you can tell me all about it. Silence is unnerving, but silence is no more when Pete talks and narrates and lives and prospers making a mess out half of it but thriving anyway. Tom chuckles sometimes, a low and unsteady sound, and other he just looks fondly at him. And then all the sounds are back where they were supposed to be, where they were always, but Pete couldn't hear them.

But then, once the sounds are back and the silence is no more, Pete takes Tom back to them too and asks him out, with flowers and a stupid card. Tom's eyes are shiny when he sings chop chop, I have a date, help me to make myself beautiful before my husband comes around.

Pete laughs, Tom smiles at him and silence is no more.

[ladywaffles]

16 + icemav for the drunken confession prompts!!!

okay so this one kinda ran away from me, oops! thank you for playing <3

"This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams, we're usually kissing."

send me a pairing and a number!

It lasts sixteen months.

They run out the clock as best as they can, and then they put overtime on the clock and run that down too.

But Ice has always wanted, and then wanted more, and TOPGUN was only ever a stop on the way to the top for him.

He understood that going in; their time was limited. Maverick has never shied away from a challenge, though, especially one that Iceman placed in front of him.

Create a life that makes Iceman want to stop, for him. Make a place that Iceman won’t want to leave, when the time comes.

(It will be many years down the line when he finds out, but Maverick was almost successful in his attempt. It is only the decades they have behind them, spent together, that stops this from hurting.)

So Ice’s time at TOPGUN comes to an end. It’s almost a joke, really; Maverick’s track record of relationships in Miramar is oh-for-two. Charlie had packed off for D.C. before Ice rotated back stateside. Maverick was too burned by the experience to even think about approaching Ice in any way that hinted of romance.

Sixteen months of flying circles around hotshot flyboys with Ice on his wing, the wide expanse of the Pacific stretching out in front of him. He really couldn’t hope for anything better. He only wishes he had more time.

They spend their last night of freedom—Ice’s second-to-last night onshore—on a pub crawl that Mav will be feeling in the morning. He won’t regret it, but even as he matches Ice shot for shot, because Ice is an all-American poster boy but he hates beer more than anything, Maverick wants to slow down and take in these last memories of Ice at his side. They serve at the pleasure of the Navy, and only God knows when the brass will smile on them and send down orders to reunite Maverick Mitchell and the Iceman, the only fighter pilots on active duty to score air-to-air kills since the end of the Vietnam War.

They close out a bar on the other side of town, and then because it’s Ice’s last night and Ice gets what he wants, no matter how stupid Maverick thinks it might be, they end up on a picnic bench in some park, looking up at the admittedly bright stars.

“Do you ever miss it?” Ice asks.

“Hmm?” Maverick’s head is still fuzzy, his cheeks still warm with all the alcohol rushing through his body.

“The stars,” Ice says, staring up. “When you’re here, don’t you miss it? When you were out on the Enterprise. I swear I used to go up on deck every night just to look at the stars.”

Maverick shrugs. “They’re mostly the same, no matter where you go. Maybe if I crossed the line and the constellations changed, I’d care more, but stars are stars.”

“Huh.”

“Do you?” Maverick turns to look at Ice, who seems to be tracing out lines in his mind, vectors towards true north, or maybe the outline of Cygnus.

“Yeah. Where I grew up, the light pollution was so bad, you could barely make out the North Star. The city was just too bright. The first time I was on a carrier, and I saw the stars, what they actually looked like… Man, Slider must’ve thought I was dumb, walking around with my mouth gaping open like a fish. Nearly ate shit when we were heading back to bunk because my head was in the clouds, I hit the knee-knockers. He didn’t let that one go for weeks.”

“At least you’ll get to see them again,” Maverick tells him.

Stay, his heart begs him to say. Stay here, with me. I’m not the starry night sky, but can’t I be enough? Please, let me be enough to keep you.

“Yeah,” Ice muses. “I almost wish I could take you with me.”

“What?” Maverick lets out a shaky laugh.

Ice smiles, that small little thing that he does whenever he’s amused, the one that Maverick learned to look for early on. A blink-and-you-miss it grin, a glimpse into the real man behind the Iceman.

“What? Was it not obvious? You need me to say it out loud?”

“I don’t—”

“I’m gonna miss you, Mitchell,” Ice says easily. He doesn’t look in Maverick’s direction, even as he continues. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do out there without you on my wing. It’s been so long since I— since I flew without you right there, annoying me over the radio. What am I gonna do without you chattering in my ear?”

“I’m sure you’ll find another flyboy out there to talk your ear off,” Maverick replies, falling into the banter. It’s not what he expected from Ice, but maybe the alcohol had more of an effect on Ice than he thought it did.

“I would stay here, if I could,” Ice admits.

You can! Maverick wants to cry. You can stay here! Fly with me! Stay with me!

“I’m gonna be a tough act to follow,” he says instead.

“You sure are,” Ice agrees.

“You can’t stay here if you want that promotion, though. That’s what you want.”

“What I want,” Ice repeats. “You know, these last few weeks, I wanted nothing more than this.”

Ice looks at him now, a blush on his cheeks from the chill bite of the midnight air and the alcohol coursing through his veins.

Maverick furrows his brow. “This?”

“Just sitting here, taking a moment to enjoy your company. Don’t let it get to your head, Mitchell, I’m still the better pilot, but you’re a good man. Everyone’s wanted something from me these last few weeks, and I was worried I wouldn’t get a chance to say it.”

Maverick cracks a grin. “You were thinking about me?”

Ice groans. “Of course that’s what you latch onto.”

“Iceman, thinking about little ol’ me!” Maverick jumps up and yells it out to the world, teasing Ice. It’s the only way he can think to make it hurt a little less, that it took Ice this long to say anything. “I win!”

“This isn’t what I was dreaming of,” Ice deadpans.

Maverick turns to him, breathless. That… changes things. “You were dreaming of me?” He sits back down next to Ice, a little closer than before. Their knees are knocking together.

Ice stares down at the ground, focusing on the grass with deadly intent.

“Yes. Yeah,” he breathes out.

“And is this like your dream?” Maverick asks gently. “Is this the dream you wanted?”

“This is not a dream, I think,” Ice answers in a soft voice. “In my dreams, by now, we’re usually kissing.”

And Ice looks up at him, his heart fully bared and placed in Maverick’s hands, his eyes full of hope and fear in equal measures, and Maverick aches.

“I would’ve said something sooner,” Ice continues, “But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to risk it. It took me all night to work up the courage to say something, and all that alcohol to pry it from my own damn self, but the only thing I’ve wanted to do all night is just say it and take you back to mine, so I could have you, just for the one night—”

Maverick cuts him off with a hand on his jaw. He can feel the flush in Ice’s cheeks, the hot blush that rises to his skin. “Ice, it’s okay,” he says.

And slowly, so Ice knows that it’s coming, so Ice can stop him if he wants to (even though that might break Maverick’s heart, and maybe Ice’s too, if he’s understanding this right), Maverick presses his lips to Ice’s. He feels the hot puff of Ice’s sigh against his lips, then the hard tug of Ice’s hands on his hips as he deepens the kiss.

Maverick willingly follows where Ice leads him, because his wingman has never led him astray. He ends up straddled across Ice’s lap, hanging on desperately as Ice kisses him with a passion he’s never felt from anyone else.

It’s only when he can’t breathe anymore that he stops, leaning his forehead against Ice’s, his weight falling back on his haunches. Ice’s hands steady him as they breathe together, big, heaving sighs like they’d just done the thousand-yard dash.

Stay, Maverick’s heart chants. Stay with me, don’t leave. Ask me to go with you, and I will. Just say the words.

“You have to go,” Maverick says sadly. He’s sobering up faster than he ever has before, realizing that there are a scant few hours left between now and when Ice goes back to sea.

“I have to go,” Ice repeats. He presses a light kiss to Maverick’s lips.

I’m sorry.

“I’ll be here,” he says.

Come back to me. I can’t lose you too.

Maverick kisses him again, and again, and again, to drive the point home.

“I’ll come back,” Ice replies, understanding.

The timer on Ice’s last day has already started ticking. Maverick is surprised more than anything when Ice drives them back to his housing, seven hours after they first set out on their pub crawl, and opens the passenger door for Maverick. He leads him into his bedroom and holds him for the rest of the night, falling asleep just as the sun starts to peek through the blinds.

Maverick doesn’t want to let go, but he won’t stop Ice. He commits Ice to memory as best he can, and when the time comes, he kisses Ice hard, pouring sixteen months of wanting and desire and love into it.

Ice meets him with the same fervor, the same built-up emotion flowing out of him, a mirror image of his own feelings reflected back to him.

They’re wingmen, after all.