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There Will Never Be Another One Like You, Babe.

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He knocked and knocked, fist insistent, banging on the front door. No answer. Maverick sighed and delved into the stupid plant basket hanging beside the door with uh, flowers of some sort in. A key was in there somewhere. Maverick swiped it and unlocked the door.

“Ice, yo, Ice.” He called, traipsing through the hallway of Iceman’s place. He kicked off his boots and headed for the living room.

“Anybody cold here?” He muttered to himself, already sure of the answer. “Didn’t think so” Maverick stated as he headed for the kitchen.

“Fuck it.” He pawed through the fridge for the rest of the six pack they had opened a couple nights back. He winced at the coolness of the can as he took a swig.

“Ice. Iceman. For fuck sake, Tom!” Maverick paused. Considered. Resumed his movements.

There was a.. something. A murmur, a dull hum beckoning him up the stairs. It wasn’t a slutty moan at the fact Maverick was present or an irritated groan at the fact that he hadn’t left, it was.. rhythmic. Quiet and controlled. It was perfect. Maverick downed half of his can.

As Maverick ascended further up the stairs the voice grew clearer, more powerful. It turned out that no, it wasn’t a hum. The lyrics were fleshed out and were being belted with, Maverick assumed, little to no effort. A cool and collected, primed and perfected sound. A goddamn chorus line of.. Iceman. Ice-man. Now that was a strange and oh so inviting thought.

There will never be
Another one like you.
There will never be
Another one who can
Do the things you do, oh.

Maverick smirked at the familiar sinfully wretched sound: The Doors, of course. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help himself as he began to sway to the sound. He didn’t quite know all the lyrics as such but he had heard Iceman ‘perform’ such a number before, muttering sweet nothings in the showers on base and getting a rise out of Maverick. Not that Iceman knew but, a rise was most certainly bought out of Maverick.

Will you give another chance?
Will you try, little try?
Please stop and you remember
We were together.

He casually swayed, hovering outside the Iceman’s bedroom door. Maverick debated to open or not to open then decided, he deserved to hear the full thing. It was a show, a private show. Right?

Anyway, alright.

Fuck it, alright in deed. Maverick took in a deep breath and—

And if you have a certain evenin'
You could lend to me.
I'd give it all right back to you
A how it has to be.

—He burst through the door. It took Iceman a moment to comprehend but Maverick just kept on going, adding the extra emphasis to certain words that he knew Iceman would. Maverick rocked back and fourth on his heel and looked a little sheepish but Iceman, looked anything but cool in that moment.

With you, Ice.
I know your moves.

Maverick crept closer, eyes locked on Iceman’s naked torso and open belt. Had he been serenading his polo shirt? Maverick sniggered at that thought.

And your mind.

He watched as Iceman’s eyes widened, then darkened. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes and he regarded Maverick, his boldness. The sheer awful voice that was so passionately coaxing a duet from deep within him.

And your mind.

Maverick crawled atop of Iceman’s bed, whipping his bomber jacket off. He had a teasing hand on the hem of his shirt. Maverick crooked a finger and felt light as the predatory grin he knew and loved, painted Iceman’s handsome face.

He smiled as he felt the weight of the mattress shift. Iceman was oh so close, lips parted and eyes dark.

Turns out, the song wasn’t over. Not that Maverick really knew anymore.

How you must of think and wondered
How I must feel?
Out on the meadows
While you run the field.

Maverick was being pushed back by Iceman’s light touch. His voice was beautiful, strong and persistent as he climbed over Maverick blanketing him with his lean frame. Iceman kept on singing as Maverick was stripped, sparks being lit as Iceman chanced another sinful touch.

I'm alone.

Iceman had a hand on his belt.

For you.

He pulled it free.

And I cry.

He shimmied out of his jeans.

Maverick watched, hooked, as Iceman chased him and searched for his lips. He moaned as Iceman forcefully ground their hips together.

Will you stop?

Iceman winked.

Will you stop?

He yanked Maverick’s jeans off.

The pain?

Iceman shoved a hand down his own boxers.

Maverick was faced with a challenging look that dropped in desire and need. He couldn’t argue nor could he put this off any longer.

“Sing to me.”

Iceman grinned.

“Fuck me.”

Iceman grinned wider.

“Sing to me as you fuck me, Ice.”

Iceman snapped his jaws and that was enough of an answer for Maverick.

***

Needless to say, Iceman’s voice wavered and cracked all night. Maverick had him moaning himself hoarse within minutes, feeling accomplished as the newfound and obscene sounds of Iceman, filled his ears.