FIC: Conditions of Release (Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, R)

[carlyinrome]

TITLE: Conditions of Release
RATING: R
FANDOMS: Top Gun
PAIRINGS: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
SUMMARY: Maverick has too good of a night at his friend's bachelor party, and ends up handcuffed to a filing cabinet waiting for Ice to bail him out.

Digger, a friend from Maverick’s first squadron, was getting married. It’s not like they kept in close contact, but if you didn’t have any family, the Navy was your family, and Digger had sent Maverick an invitation to the wedding. Digger’s best friend, his RIO, Snapper, called Maverick up a few days after that to invite Maverick to Digger’s bachelor party. Iceman didn’t know any of them, and it’s not like Maverick could make him his plus one, but it was more than a seven hour drive to Palo Alto from Miramar, and Maverick had neither a car nor the ability to drive one, so he convinced Ice to play chauffeur. He promised he would make it worth his while, and while Maverick hadn’t known exactly what he’d meant by that—by nature he was an improviser, not a planner, and it had served him well so far—it turned out to be a really good thing that Ice had agreed to come with him.

There had been drinks. And girls. And more drinks. And maybe some truth or dare.

And more drinks.

Maverick was supposed to be at the church for Digger’s wedding in five hours, but instead he was in the San Mateo County Sheriff’s Department, handcuffed to a filing cabinet in some off duty deputy’s office. He’d told the rest of the bachelor party to go on, since Digger definitely had to be to the church on time, but that meant he was all alone except for this crick in his shoulder, a slowly brewing hangover headache, and the familiar refrain in his head: Well, Maverick, that was a hell of an idea.

“Public intoxication,” a rich, strong, familiar voice intoned from the doorway. “Indecent exposure.”

Maverick whipped around to see him, as best as he could in his current predicament. “Ice! Oh, man, am I glad to see you.”

Ice took a few steps into the room, closing the door behind him as he entered. Maverick thought he saw him engage the lock on the door handle, and the thought, Oh shit, guess I’m really in for it crossed his mind.

“What are you doing here?”

Ice raised his brow. “You called me to bail you out, Maverick. Do you not recall our conversation? ‘Hey, Iceman, sorry to wake you. I’m in jail, bring money’?”

Maverick kind of remembered the conversation. The cops had told him he’d had a phone call, and by some miracle, he remembered not only the number to the hotel, but their room number, as well. How long ago was that?

Fuck, man, tequila.

“So, did you?” Maverick asked.

Ice walked over to him, sat on the edge of the desk in front of Maverick, one knee between Maverick’s splayed legs, his pale eyes locked on Maverick’s.

“Did I what?”

“Shit, man, did you bail me out?”

“Yes, Maverick, I bailed you out.”

“Ah, man, thank you, I—then why am I still handcuffed to this stupid thing?”

Ice smiled a dangerous, sharky smile. “It’s a condition of your release.”

“So it’s your fault I’m still trussed up?”

Ice nodded. “Now you’re caught up.”

“But why would you—?”

Before he could get a whole thought out, Ice was kneeling before him, sucking at his pulse point, deft fingers plucking open the front of his jeans.

“Why would I let a gorgeous opportunity like this go to waste?” Ice purred, his tone lilting like he was just finishing Maverick’s question for him.

“Shit,” Maverick gasped. He put his free hand to use, grabbing a handful of Ice’s hair.

Ice growled. “Hands off. Don’t touch me if you want to come.”

Maverick released his hold on Ice, and Ice bent his head and took Maverick’s cock into his mouth.

Ice was good at basically everything. He was an ace in a plane, of course, and he was usually the smartest person in the room. He’d gotten a masters degree in physics during his deployment, doing correspondence coursework when he had downtime on the boat, which was not at all like what Maverick had done when he had downtime on the boat. He’d even been a starting lacrosse player for Navy when he was at Annapolis. At times, being used to being so smart and talented made Ice an insufferable little shit, but g o d d a m n if it didn’t make for one helluva blow job. Maverick’s eyes rolled back in his head as Ice worked him, slowly, thoroughly, bringing him up to the edge and then relaxing back for a moment, just to bring him even closer to the edge the next time.

“Ice,” Maverick whined. “You’re driving me crazy. C’mon, c’mon—”

“Patience,” Ice purred, and went right back to doing what he was doing.

Maverick closed his eyes. He tried to push through it, to crest the sensation, but Ice was too good at teasing. And he was in control, with one of Maverick’s hands handcuffed to the filing cabinet and the other out of play just because Ice said so, which should have made Maverick mad and not very, very aroused.

He tried a different tactic.

“Ice,” he said, “Ice, please let me come. I’ll be—I’ll be so good, man, when you take me back to the hotel, you can do whatever you want with me, I promise—”

Ice brought him right to the edge, and Maverick thought that this time, it would be it, but then Ice drew back. Took his mouth off him completely. Looked up at him with that frosty gaze.

“You think you deserve to come, Maverick?”

Maverick understood what Ice wanted from him immediately, but it was a minute before he could force himself to say it, and it came through gritted teeth.

“No,” he said. “No, Ice, I don’t deserve to come, but you’re so kind, I know you’ll let me…”

Ice smirked. Under different conditions, Maverick might have smacked him, but now Ice’s talented mouth was back on him, and this time, he didn’t shy away from Maverick’s orgasm; he took him there, hard and fast, without preamble or pussyfooting, and Maverick shouted and pumped his cock against Ice’s tonsils, and maybe Ice was a frustrating little shit sometimes, but right now he was so pretty with his pink cheeks and swollen lips, swallowing everything Maverick gave him.

Maverick tried to compose himself, but his head was spinning. His vision had blacked out for a second. He did the hook maneuver, which was actually great for this, and by the time he had his head back, Ice had closed up his pants and unlocked the cuffs, and was waiting for him by the door.

“You’ve had that key this whole time?” Maverick demanded.

Ice smiled. “Ready to go?”

“You’re such a—” he sighed. “Shit. Thanks, Iceman.”

Ice nodded. “You’re welcome. You owe me two hundred dollars, by the way.”

“For the blowjob?”

Ice frowned. “For your bail, asshole.”

“Oh, right. That was probably worth the two hundred, though, I mean. The other thing.”

Ice blushed. Maverick laughed, and followed him out of the police station, hurrying to keep up with Ice and his damn long legs. Nice view from this angle, though. Definitely a nice view.