Work Text:
They survived.
Put any two pilots in the Navy against five enemy fighters, and see if any of them come out on top. Most of them wouldn’t last a minute. But Maverick and Iceman survived.
They did better than survive. They won. Maverick couldn’t wipe the grin off his face when Ice came with him to buzz the tower.
“That the first rule you ever broke, Ice?” Mav asked, smiling back at the plane on his left. “How’d you like it?”
“Feels damn good,” Ice’s voice said in his helmet. He was laughing. They both were. Because they’d survived and they’d worked together and they’d won. It felt like the best high, better than any drug.
But highs end.
The thought spiked through Maverick’s good mood, nearly killing it. Ice would come down from the high of living against all odds. He would review the mission. He would remember Maverick disengaging, trying to retreat when Ice needed him most. He would remember why he hated Maverick in the first place.
Maybe it shouldn’t bother him. Big whoop—the guy who hated him would continue to hate him. Nothing would change in Maverick’s world.
Except, now he knew what Ice’s laugh sounded like. Not the sardonic chuckle he tended to throw Maverick’s way at Top Gun—the real one. He knew what Ice sounded like when he was truly, unashamedly happy. The prospect of going back to Ice’s cold stares, his mocking smirk, his critical words made it hard to breathe in his mask. He ripped it off and filled his lungs. The expansion hurt his ribs.
When they landed, the cheering crowd managed to buoy Maverick’s mood again. It was hard to focus on his failings when so many people were clambering to celebrate him. Everyone was ecstatic, brimming with congratulations. He was swimming through a sea of handshakes and pats on the back.
And then, just when Maverick least expected it, the other shoe dropped.
“You!”
Maverick was plunged into the freezing cold of Ice’s anger once more. He turned to face him, expecting Ice’s hard glare.
Only, it wasn’t what he thought. Not yet. Ice was messing with him, breaking into a grin. He was hugging him.
Ice gave shockingly good hugs. His strong arms hauled Maverick close and locked him in. There was nothing cold about the hug, nothing distant. Maverick couldn’t help but squeeze back just as tightly.
But Ice was going to remember. He was going to be angry. The thought grew in Maverick’s mind like a storm cell, swirling and picking up speed. He knew he better enjoy the hug, because it was the last one he’d ever get.
He did enjoy it. He tried not to let go.
They walked side by side off the flight line through the congratulatory throngs. Ice grinned over. Maybe it was the last time Ice would ever smile at him.
It was a great smile.
***
They debriefed the next morning.
Ice brought Maverick a coffee. He was still grinning at him, eyes shining.
“Morning,” Ice said, smacking his gum.
“Gum and coffee, huh?” Maverick asked, eyeing Ice’s cup. He wanted to tease him. He would tease his friends. He would be merciless.
Ice was not his friend. Likely never would be after the debrief. But he did turn that thousand megawatt smile at Maverick again and tip his cup up in a mock cheers.
“Breakfast of champions,” Ice said like he was so unbothered by Maverick’s ribbing. It was like he enjoyed it, the easy humor between them. Maybe he also felt the relief of their rivalry ending.
But Ice didn’t know that it wouldn’t last. This was the end. This would be when Ice remembered.
The coffee hit Maverick’s twisted stomach hard. He had nothing to say for himself. He couldn’t excuse it. He couldn’t explain it. Ice would see that he’d disengaged when Ice was calling for help, and he’d remember. He’d remember why he hated Maverick.
The enemy’s dangerous, but you’re worse.
And he’d be right. All those times Ice called Maverick out at Top Gun, and Maverick had proven it for him.
Maverick closed his eyes as Stinger strode in to start the debrief. He barely heard the words as Stinger congratulated Maverick and Ice on a mission well flown. Maverick only heard the instruments firing up. He opened his eyes and saw the projection lighting up on the wall.
The room went silent as they all reviewed the radar reads showing Ice maneuvering away from five MiGs alone. All eyes turned to Ice in awe.
“That’s some damn good flying, son,” Stinger said. Even he sounded soft with admiration.
“Thank you, sir,” Ice said. “I couldn’t have held it much longer. Thank God for Mav.”
Ice’s hand was big and warm on his shoulder. It felt so good to be wrapped in his affection. Maverick wanted to lean into that touch, wanted to accept it. But he couldn’t. Because Ice was about to be reminded why he didn’t touch Maverick.
On the radar read, Maverick watched himself hesitate as he came up on the dogfight. He watched himself disengage. He sank down in his seat.
“What did you see there, Mitchell?” Stinger asked. Maybe it was Maverick’s own negative tint on his behavior, but he looked like he was ready to be disappointed by the answer.
Maverick opened his mouth, and no words came to him. He couldn’t look at Ice. He couldn’t look at Stinger. He couldn’t look anywhere safe. His face was burning with shame. He only wished he could burn hot enough to melt a hole in the floor and disappear.
Before Stinger could repeat the question, Ice spoke. “He was seeing everything, sir.”
Ice didn’t sound angry. But how could that be? He was watching a replay of what Maverick had done, how he’d hung Ice out to dry, but he didn’t sound furious. Maverick dared a look at him. Ice kept his eyes straight ahead, confidently challenging anyone in the room to go against his assessment as he continued.
“There’s a big difference between that,” he pointed to the radar screen, “and flying up on a dogfight. If Mav had jumped right in, chances are he’d have accidentally got us killed. I didn’t like it at the time. But the right play was to review the area before engaging.”
Maverick sat, tense and still, until Stinger nodded at him, accepting the explanation. He congratulated Maverick for keeping a cool head, and they moved on.
Residual sweat dripped down Maverick’s back even as his shame-heated body cooled down. He sipped the coffee Ice had gotten him and slowly relaxed behind the shield of a lie Ice had told for him. He didn’t hear much of anything for the rest of the debrief. He was too busy studying Ice out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out why he would go to bat for Maverick, of all people.
***
After they were dismissed, Maverick followed Ice out of the briefing room and back to his quarters. Ice glanced back at him with raised eyebrows, but didn’t kick him out when Maverick went in after him.
“Why did you lie for me?” Maverick asked once they were behind a closed door. No sense beating around the bush.
Ice leaned back against his bunk, crossed his arms, and studied Maverick with an unreadable stare for a long moment before he answered. “Was it a lie?”
“Come on, Ice. You know I wasn’t scanning the area. I froze. I left you defenseless. Why doesn’t that piss you off?”
“I wasn’t defenseless,” Ice said simply. And he was right. He wasn’t defenseless. He’d had himself, his quick reflexes and complete control over the plane. But he didn’t have backup, and he was supposed to. Maverick should have been there.
“You were alone. I cost you seconds you didn’t have. You could have died.”
Ice shrugged. He still didn’t look like he was getting angry. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“What’s the other way?”
“I bought you a few seconds to engage.”
It was such an unexpected perspective, especially from Ice. He’d always viewed Maverick in the least charitable light, but now he understood his hesitation in battle? Maverick shook his head against Ice’s illogical forgiveness. “I was up there for you. I was there to save you. The fact that you had to do anything for me is bullshit.”
There it was. A hint of annoyance in the tightening of Ice’s jaw. Maverick had found a way past his moment of zen and dug down to the real Ice underneath. The one who knew Maverick wasn’t a good wingman. The one that couldn’t stand him.
He wished he’d left well enough alone, seen how long Ice could put up with him.
“You’ve got it all wrong, Mav,” Ice said, and to Maverick’s surprise, he didn’t sound irritated with him. He only seemed slightly exasperated. “You weren’t out there for me.”
“That’s literally why they sent me up—to back you up.”
“Yes, to back me up. So, I’d have your back, too. We help each other. We’re a team.”
Maverick couldn’t stop the laugh that rushed out of him, breathy and disbelieving. “We’re a team—right. You and me. The dream team.”
Ice held his hands out in an impatient expression. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how I’d put it.”
It was like they were coming from two completely separate realities. Maverick had come from the one where Ice had spent five weeks glaring and goading and fighting him. He wasn’t sure what planet Ice had recently descended from, but it wasn’t the one Maverick lived on.
“Ice, you’ve hated me since we met. We’re not a team.”
Ice rejected the accusation with a grimace like he’d tasted something bad. “I never hated you.”
“What are you talking about?” Maverick asked, throwing his hands up. Ice might still be feeling good from surviving, but surely he wasn’t completely deluded. “Of course you hated me! You’ve been riding my ass since I got to Top Gun.”
“Well, yeah,” Ice admitted. At least he hadn’t entirely lost his memory. “We were competing.”
“Okay, sure. We were competing. But that doesn’t explain why you only busted my balls. You were competing with everyone. The whole class, but you managed to stay civil with them.”
Ice’s eyes burned with that same intensity he’d had when they were fighting at Top Gun. And just like back then, Maverick found himself crushed under the weight of that stare, frozen, unable to move while he waited to see what Ice would do.
“No, I wasn’t,” Ice said, low and earnest. “I wasn’t competing with them.”
Maverick’s breath caught, his chest crushed under the sincere weight of Ice’s words. His eyes kept Maverick pinned as he continued.
“I looked up every pilot in our class before I went. I knew coming in, it was always you. You were my only competition.”
It was flattering, in a calculating, Iceman-branded way. He’d researched Maverick and determined he was the only one worth his time. And apparently, the only one worth his cruelty, which probably shouldn’t make Maverick feel like he’d won something. He cleared his throat, trying to restart his lungs under the weight of Ice’s intense stare.
“So, that’s it?” Maverick asked. “You didn’t think I was dangerous? You were just getting under my skin?”
“Oh, no. I definitely think you’re dangerous. Just…” Ice shrugged with a softening of his eyes. “Mostly to the bad guys.”
It seemed too good to be true. It couldn’t be that simple. Maverick couldn’t accept it. “You really think what I did yesterday wasn’t dangerous to you?”
“Well,” Ice said. His eyes dropped. If Maverick wasn’t completely fooling himself, he looked sad, like he didn’t want to say it. “I said mostly.”
“See? You do think I’m dangerous!”
“Maverick,” Ice said.
“I just don’t get it. Why are you lying about this? This is your moment to prove I’m a liability. Why would you tell command I didn’t screw up?”
“Mav, come on.”
“Is it…blackmail? You have something on me now? Do you really hate me that much?”
It was a stretch. Maverick knew it when he said it. Unless Ice was the greatest actor of all time, there was no way his warmth toward Maverick in the past eighteen hours had been fake. But Maverick was confused, lost in this strange, upside down world where nothing made sense and nobody wanted to tell him the truth and—
Ice’s eyes pinned him again, this time with an endless depth of hurt in them. “Why do you think that?”
“That you would blackmail me?” Maverick asked. He was ready to crumble, to take it back. Of course he didn’t think that. Ice didn’t have to cheat to win anything. He hadn’t cheated to win Top Gun. Maverick wasn’t even sure why he’d said it.
“That I hate you.”
That stopped Maverick in his racing thoughts. Ice didn’t care that Maverick had accused him of blackmail. He’d brushed past that. He just didn’t want Maverick to think he hated him.
“I told you—I don’t,” Ice said, voice heavy like it mattered so much for Maverick to believe him this time. “I never did.”
“Yeah, right. We were just competing,” Maverick said flatly, but he was shaken. He’d thrown everything at Ice, expecting anger in return. Instead, Ice continued to look deeply and sincerely wounded.
“You still don’t get it.”
“I guess not,” Maverick said.
Ice moved. It didn’t take a lot of walking to cross a lieutenant’s quarters on an aircraft carrier. In three short strides, he was chest to chest with Maverick. Maverick tensed for a fight.
He was still tense when Ice slid a hand around his back, bent close, and kissed him.
“I never hated you,” Ice said low and quiet with his eyes boring into Maverick’s. It felt like the kiss should have opened up a fucking library’s worth of more questions than answers, but it hadn’t. Maverick stared into Ice’s eyes, so close to him, and he got it.
They were at Top Gun together, an inherently temporary station full of prying eyes. Ice knew coming in that Maverick was the one to watch, so he’d watched him. And maybe he’d liked what he saw—liked it a little too much. But they were flying together and drinking together and showering together. They were always together. Maybe Ice’s eyes had followed Maverick a little too often at the bar. He’d covered it with a sneer and a snappy quip about Maverick’s dangerous flying. Maybe he’d run into Maverick in the showers, half naked, and didn’t avert his gaze in time. That was fine. He could announce to the room how badly he wished Maverick weren’t allowed to be in the air with him. He’d broadcasted that he wasn’t paying attention to Maverick because he wanted to—he was watching him like a time bomb.
They were competing.
Maverick wanted to look away. He wanted to pull Ice into a hug. He wanted to crawl out of the room and into Ice’s bed and…
He did nothing. He stood, frozen, until Ice started to back off.
Maverick had a grip on Ice’s flight suit. The fabric was bunched up in his hand. The zipper dug into his palm. He was looking up into Ice’s face, still unable to move. But he was keeping him close.
“You sure about this?” Ice asked with a hesitant sprinkle of hope in the apprehension of his words.
Maverick swallowed. He hadn’t been inside Ice’s circle for long, but he knew enough to see that this wouldn’t be a one time thing. Ice would rather let him walk now than hook up once and be done with it. It was clear in the wide-eyed way he watched Maverick’s face. Goose used to look at Carole like that, back when they first met. It was a fragile look, like she could break him apart.
Maverick jerked a nod. He probably looked half scared out of his mind, but Ice grinned and bent to kiss him again. Maverick followed his lead, lips parting and tongues sliding and holy shit he was kissing Iceman. He moved to wrap his arms around Ice’s shoulders, arching his back to press closer as Ice’s big hands grasped his hips. He was being pushed back against the metal desk, and Ice’s hips were tight to his, and he could feel how this was not going to stop at kissing.
A clang of the door disengaging ripped Ice away. Maverick was still pressed back against the desk, but Ice was leaned casually against his bunk. It was like a hallucination. Were they kissing before? Maverick wiped a hand across his mouth. The moisture there said they were.
“Hey bud,” Slider said, stepping into the room. He looked relaxed until he saw Maverick. Then, he subtly tensed. “Oh, hey Mav.”
“Slider,” Maverick greeted. He tried to make his face normal, to keep his eyes from cutting across the room to Ice. From Slider’s suspicious glance between them, he thought he probably failed on both counts.
“Y’all good?” Slider asked nervously, eyes only on Ice.
Ice nodded. His face was entirely unreadable. “We’re good.”
Slider glanced between them again. “You’re just hanging out?”
“We were talking about yesterday,” Ice replied with characteristic coolness.
“Oh well,” Slider said. “I’ve got some opinions for you as long as we’re airing grievances. You know how close I was to puking? All that diving and weaving. You need to ease up on the stick.”
Ice chuckled. “Better than being blown up.”
“Barely,” Slider grumbled, but he grinned. “I couldn’t even eat breakfast this morning.”
“Poor baby. You been to the gym yet?”
Slider cut another cautious look at Maverick. “Not yet. Why, you want to go with me?”
“I said never again, and I meant it,” Ice said, wry humor breaking through his unreadable expression. “I couldn’t walk down stairs for a week.”
It was weird suddenly being privy to Ice’s easy sense of humor, his admissions of weakness. Maverick gripped the desk behind him like he was on a roller coaster.
Slider sighed like Ice had completely missed the point and looked once more at Maverick. “Well, I was going to get changed and head that way, but I’ll stay if you want me to.”
“No, we’re good,” Ice replied. “You head to the gym.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you guys. Both of you. You might think you can fight it out, but you show up on duty with a black eye, and there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Neither of us will have black eyes,” Ice said evenly. “We’re just talking.”
It was an obvious lie, and Slider responded with a frustrated sigh. “Okay, like I didn’t walk in here and see you guys both already panting. I know what worked up looks like, and y'all are worked up. But sure. You’re not going to fight. I’m going to go to the gym and maybe my pilot gets suspended, but who cares?”
“Jesus Christ, Slider—we’re not fighting. We’re fucking. Or trying to. Now get out.”
Slider froze with his hands on his belt. Maverick stared at Ice in horror. God, if Slider wasn’t trustworthy, they were in a lot of trouble. This was career-ending stuff if Ice had miscalculated.
Slowly, Slider’s shocked expression turned to glee. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I been saying your tight ass needs to get laid, haven’t I? Maybe you’ll be a little nicer.”
“I’m always nice to you,” Ice said with a dismissive grimace.
“That’s debatable,” Slider said. “Hopefully, you’ll be extra nice now. I’ll just change at the gym and let you do your thing. But hey, Maverick. Look at me.”
Maverick’s eyes met Slider’s stern glare.
“Top bunk is mine. Off limits. Oh, and if you do some dumb cowboy shit and hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”
“I don’t plan to,” Maverick said. It felt like he was facing down a girl’s dad in high school, justifying himself before going on a date.
“You don’t plan shit, flyboy,” Slider said with a breath of laughter like Maverick was some wild animal who operated entirely by instinct. He started to ramp up enough to be offended before Slider bounced away. “Just be careful,” he said, stopping by Ice to clap him on the shoulder. “And use protection.”
Ice rolled his eyes and his mouth pulled with annoyance, but even Maverick could see the fondness behind it. “Would you get out of here?”
Slider turned to salute him sarcastically before he slipped out and closed the door after him. And then, they were alone again. Maverick stayed propped against the desk. He felt off balance now. The momentum he’d built before had stalled entirely. The seven feet of distance between him and Ice seemed insurmountable.
Ice started to say something a couple times before he managed the words. “Sorry if you didn’t want me to tell him. He would have found out, though.”
The wince that came with Ice’s apology put Maverick back on even footing. He’d worried the interruption might somehow reset Ice, that Slider’s presence might have turned his critical eye back to Maverick. If he started trying again to find flaws in Maverick, he’d find plenty.
But Ice’s sheepish demeanor took Maverick off the defensive. Instead of waiting for an attack, he could give in to the soft part of him that wanted to make Ice feel good.
“Sounds like he doesn’t care,” Maverick said.
When Ice met his eyes, they were already half-closed with a relieved smile. “He’s a good guy. Been covering for me for years.”
“While you hooked up with other guys?”
“In my defense, I hadn’t met you yet.” Ice said it like a joke, like he didn’t think Maverick would truly be jealous.
He thought wrong.
It made no sense, the coil of anger Maverick felt hearing about Ice’s romantic history, but knowing that it made no sense did nothing to cool his temper. He’d already started imagining it, some guy pushing Ice into a wall and shoving a hand down his pants. Ice dropping to his knees in the dark or spreading his legs for some nobody. Ice had been flying with Slider for a long time before Top Gun. He’d known him in the academy. How long had Slider been covering for Ice’s hookups? How many other guys had there been?
Maverick shoved away from the desk like he could confront every one of those guys right away. And in a way, he could. He would start by making Ice forget them.
Ice bent when Maverick wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, easily finding his mouth again. He couldn’t say how jealous he was of those other guys who got to experience this before he did. Ice would roll his eyes or laugh. But he could try to erase their memory as he pressed himself against Ice, gripped him close, and kissed him slow and slick and hot.
Between them, Ice yanked the zipper down on his flight suit. Maverick kissed a line down Ice’s neck as he shoved the flight suit off his shoulders. He briefly trapped Ice’s arms behind him in the sleeves, but that was just fine with him. It freed him up to run a hand up between Ice’s thighs and cup his dick through the fabric.
The hiss of breath between Ice’s teeth grabbed Maverick’s attention. The way Ice looked with his lips parted and his head tipped back, revealing the tender skin of his throat, made Maverick’s stomach clench. It felt unbearable how badly Maverick needed to touch him and kiss him and clutch him close.
But most importantly, he needed to get him naked.
“Boots,” Maverick said. Almost at the same time, Ice ripped away from him to snatch the laces out of his boots and kick them off. And he didn’t stop there. Maverick’s mouth went dry watching Ice shove his flight suit to the ground in a pile of patches and zippers. Then, finally, he stripped off his undershirt.
Ice stood just as confidently as normal without a stitch of clothing on his body. He circled his fingers around his cock and pumped it idly, eyes burning across Maverick’s fully clothed body.
“Come on,” Ice said. “Show me something, hotshot.”
Maverick scrambled to get himself just as naked. It was both gratifying and unnerving that Ice stared at him, fondling himself like watching Maverick awkwardly toe out of his boots was the hottest thing in the world. He stepped out of his own flight suit just as naked and crashed into Ice once more. He dragged Ice down to his mouth with a hand around his neck and took over Ice’s dick with the other. It was hard and hot and felt so good where it dragged wetly across his skin.
They couldn’t do much on an aircraft carrier. It was too cramped with too many ears and not enough supplies. The long list of things Maverick would like to do with Ice had to be cut to what was possible. Instead of bending him over the desk and licking his hole until he was ready for Maverick’s cock, then making him scream, Mav had to find another way to drive him wild. He kissed a trail down Ice’s body until he was kneeling on the cold floor.
Ice inhaled sharply when Maverick put his mouth on him. “Fuck, Mav,” he hissed. His voice trembled like he was straining to stay quiet. Thank God this was a temporary assignment and they’d soon be back on land. As soon as Maverick had a private house again, he fully intended to find out how loud Ice could be.
Maverick had a real weakness for giving oral. He liked the flexibility of it, the adaptability. He could run his tongue across the soft skin of Ice’s dick and figure out what made him jerk with pleasure. He could pull him deep into his throat until he couldn’t breathe. He could grip Ice’s ass with both hands and get him moving, then slip his fingers between his cheeks and just touch the part he wanted for later.
Before long, Ice was rocking his hips forward and breathing hard with a hand cupped around Maverick’s head and the knuckles of the other shoved against his mouth to keep quiet. Smugly, Maverick thought there was no way Ice had ever had a blowjob like this from those other guys.
“Wait,” Ice said just as Maverick was going for it to send him over the edge. His thighs were trembling, but he tugged at Maverick’s shoulder. “Come here.”
Maverick barely got to his feet before Ice gripped his waist and walked him backward to the desk. The metal edge dug into Maverick’s bare ass. The shock of cold momentarily snapped all of his attention away, but Ice’s lips on his jerked it back. He was kissing Maverick, tongue and all. Most guys wouldn’t do that once Maverick’s mouth had been on them.
Maybe, Ice was erasing some names off Maverick’s list as well.
Breaking away, Ice spat in his hand and reached down between them. He got a grip on both of them. Maverick kept his eyes down, entranced by the sight of Ice’s fingers around their cocks.
And then, Ice moved his hips, and Maverick about lost his mind. The slick slide of the whole length of Ice’s cock along his sent him into orbit.
“Oh fuck,” Maverick moaned, gripping the edge of the desk hard to keep grounded. Any thought of being quiet fled his mind before Ice kissed him.
“Shhh easy,” Ice whispered against his mouth, but he didn’t stop thrusting his dick against Maverick’s in the tight circle of his hand. In a way, it was like he was fucking Maverick. It was like he wanted to.
Maverick couldn’t wait to get somewhere private where they could explore that option. For now, he focused on keeping his mouth shut. Every other neuron was preoccupied with Ice’s dick thrusting against his own, how hot and dirty and perfect it felt. He wanted to surrender to Ice and let him do anything. Everything. He wanted to lie back on the desk and spread his legs, see how far they could get with spit and hope.
But it was too late. He was grasping at Ice’s shoulder with heaving breaths and dragging him desperately closer when he came. Without Ice’s mouth on his, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to contain his moans.
“Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot,” Ice whispered, breath shaking, thrusting harder. He grasped Maverick close and buried his face in his neck when he followed him over, dick twitching hard against Maverick’s.
Ice kissed him lazily after, tongues sliding slick and slow. Without the urgency, it was comfortable. It was borderline romantic.
“Go to dinner with me,” Maverick said when Ice pulled back enough to talk. It wasn’t a question. He knew Ice wanted it.
“Hot date at the mess hall?” Ice asked. His smile was easy and unbothered, and he was clearly not understanding.
“No, when we get back stateside. Go on a real date with me.”
Ice huffed out a breath like he thought it was funny, but he suddenly looked awfully nervous. “I already put out, man. You don’t have to wine and dine me.”
Maverick didn’t follow him into joking. This was more serious to Ice than he wanted to let on. Maverick was going to take it seriously too.
“I want to,” Maverick said, turning on all the charm he could. “I want to take you out, maybe we both get a little drunk, and then I want to get you on a real bed and spend all night doing whatever we want.”
Any hint of humor fell away from Ice’s face as Maverick talked. “You’re serious,” he said like he couldn’t believe it.
“A hundred percent,” Maverick said earnestly.
He could see the questions building up in Ice’s eyes. What was the plan after the first date? What if they got ordered to separate bases? Long term, what kind of future could they even have? Why bother starting something they could never see through?
Maverick read every one of those doubts in Ice’s face, waiting steadily for him not to voice them. He knew Ice wouldn’t, the same way Maverick didn’t allow himself to think too much about it. If they wanted it badly enough, reality was merely an obstacle to overcome.
Ice kissed him, and Maverick had never wanted anything more.
“Sure, Mav,” Ice said when he broke away. His eyes gave away too much for the words to be casual. “I’ll go out with you.”
The swoop of nervous excitement Maverick felt could only compare to flying. He dragged Ice back down to his mouth because he needed to have him as close as possible. Now that he had him, he never wanted to let Ice go.