FIC: The Note (Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, PG-13)

[carlyinrome]

TITLE: The Note
RATING: PG-13
FANDOMS: Top Gun
PAIRINGS: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
SUMMARY: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Stupid, Ice thought. This is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid. He went through the thousands of reasons what he was doing was going to go wrong, but he couldn’t put aside the one very pressing reason he was doing it anyway, like a neon sign burning in his frontal lobe.

I really want to see you. All of you. All night. I’m bunking in the back bedroom in Number 6. Be there when I get home, nine sharp, and be ready for me.

Maverick

Thousands of ways this could go wrong, but damn, he liked Maverick so much. He hadn’t liked anyone this much since … maybe since he was a kid in high school losing his virginity to his lab partner. And that had gone wrong, that had definitely gone wrong, but … but everything didn’t. Some things went right, and just for the chance that this would go right…? It was worth the gamble. At eight thirty, he left his own base assignment and walked to Number 6. The door was unlocked; he just walked in. He called out, but no one answered. All the lights were off, and he made his way to the back bedroom in the dark.

Ice turned on the lights in Maverick’s room. It was a little bit of a mess, but so was Maverick, and he kind of liked that about him, actually. Ice turned on the lamp by the bed and turned off the overhead. He laid out condoms and lube on the bedside table, and he stripped his clothes off, and he slipped under Maverick’s covers.

He waited.

Maverick was early. He came in about ten minutes after Ice had gotten there, and he paused in the doorway, jacket half on and half off.

“Kazansky,” he said slowly.

Ice’s chest went tight. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Hey, Mitchell,” he said.

Maverick finished taking his jacket off. He closed the door behind him, and took a few steps toward the bed, tossing his jacket on a nearby table.

“So, um, Iceman,” he said. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Ice flushed, violently and all at once. He felt like he’d swallowed barium.

“I—I got your note,” he rasped, and then he looked at Maverick’s face, still just as shocked and confused, and the truth dawned on him. “... that you didn’t send. Fuck. I’m going to kill Hollywood. I’m—maybe you could just turn around, and I’ll—I’ll get dressed and get out of here.”

Maverick still looked confused, but he wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t mad. He came over and sat on the foot of the bed, looking at Ice.

“Okay, so you got some kind of sexy note from me, and—”

“And I’ll go,” Ice said tightly. He felt humiliation choking him. He could barely breathe.

“No,” Maverick said, “I don’t—that’s not what I want.”

Ice blinked. “It’s not?”

“No, I mean … look, I’m surprised, but I don’t—this isn’t a bad surprise, Ice.”

Ice regarded him distrustfully. “Don’t fuck with me.”

Maverick chuckled, but it was good-natured. He crawled over to Ice, loomed into his space, grinning. “I would love to fuck with you, Iceman, and it seems like I’ve got you in a really good spot to do it, too.”

Ice blushed. Maverick’s smile faded, and he looked at Ice with a soft expression. He traced Ice’s cheekbone with his fingertips.

“You really like me this way?” Maverick asked.

Ice couldn’t speak. He bit his lip, and he nodded.

“How come you never said anything?”

Ice chewed his lip. “When you’re—when you’re like me, it’s not really safe to make a move until … until you know it’s mutual.”

Maverick leaned in. He met Ice’s eyes, and he spoke about half an inch from his face.

“It’s mutual,” he said softly, and kissed him.

***

Goose got back to base around ten thirty. He walked in slowly, hanging up his jacket and keys.

He could hear noises from the back bedroom. A lot of noises.

Really happy noises.

He smiled. So Ice had gotten his note.