The Next Step
folder
S through Z › Top Gun
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
15,512
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Top Gun
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
15,512
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Top Gun, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
4
***
He woke with a start.
What the fuck was that noise? A plane, a fighter, probably an F-5. Fucking loud, but that was fine considering he was lying in bed in Fightertown, USA.
Bed. Not his. Christ, another morning in Ice’s bed. And thanks to that damn fool pilot who had no business flying by at – he checked his watch; 5:47am – Ice was now awake beside him.
Maverick hauled himself up to sit leaning back against the headboard and Ice followed suit. They glanced at each other, then looked away. Maverick could see the outline of Ice’s morning erection through the sheet and his own cock twitched in response. This was ridiculous. Fucking plane.
Then Ice slipped out of the bed. Maverick practically breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Ice’s bare ass retreat into the bathroom, but then he stopped and turned. He stood there in the bathroom doorway, leaning with an arm on either doorpost, naked and half hard.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, and licked his lips. He turned and went inside but that lip-lick said it all. Roughly three seconds later, Maverick was in there with him.
---
The last day. Viper called the instructors in while the guys were off at lunch; apparently Tex and Hawk had won, and when they made the announcement to the students, no one seemed particularly surprised. Everyone was very sporting about it, even Blue and Coop who, quite frankly, reminded Maverick more than a little of Ice and Slider.
Just because it was the last day, that didn’t mean anyone got to slack off. They got up in the air for one last mission, all four combat flight ructructors against the eight crews of the Top Gun graduating class. The thing was insane, exhausting, and a hell of a lot of fun. Though, of course, at the end of the day they all had to come in, change of tof their flight suits and think about leaving. Some for longer than others. And Viper called Maverick, Ice and Jester to his office.
He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about the Goddamn bet. He’d won; he collected the eighty bucks and everyone’s reluctant congratulations, declined the scotch that Viper offered and then left. Ice followed close behind.
“I wonder which one bet on me,” Ice said as they walked. “And you.” Maverick shrugged. “C’mon, you’ve got to have thought about it. Did Viper back you? Did he back me? How about Jester. Or maybe they thought we’d both lose.”
“Christ.” Maverick stopped abruptly, turned and slumped against the wall, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need this right now.”
“If this is about--"
He didn’t care what he was about to say – Goose, the trophy, any-damn-thing. “Fuck you, Kazansky,” he practically yelled, angry but not entirely sure why. He wasn’t sure he cared who was the best anymore. He was finding it hard to care about anything at all.
“Yeah, I guess that’s one thing we haven’t done yet.”
Maverick froze – that was a low blow. He hadn’t expected it, bringing up what they’d been doing off-base whhey hey were yelling about… what the hell *had* they been yelling about? He just stared, somewhat panicked when he realised there were a few other officers in the corridor, and with a distinct look of ‘I can’t believe you just said that’ plastered all over his face. His heart was hammering, and judging from the look on Ice’s face, he couldn’t believe he’d said it either.
Maverick rested his head back against the wall. Ice sighed. Maverick couldn’t help it – he turned and punched the wall.
“I think I need a drink.”
“I think I need a doctor.”
Ice smirked. “Don’t be such a drama queen, Maverick. C’mon, I’m buying.”
---
It was too early for the O Club to be anywhere near full – in fact, there were maybe six other people in the whole place, drinking, keeping very much to themselves and looking really rather glum. Maverick and Ice were sitting at a table in the corner, sipping their beers in complete silence while the trashy pop music piped over the stereo system hung between them.
“So,” Ice said, breaking the silence at last. “Any ideas what you’re gonna do with your leave?”
Maverick shrugged, lifting his beer. It kissed against his lips but he didn’t drink; he put tottlottle down and licked his lips clean. Ice was watching him.
“I’d thought about ordering pizza and watching some Star Trek reruns,” he said, just as Ice pulled something from his inside jacket pocket. He put it on the table, flat, just a plain white envelope. Then he slid it halfway to Maverick’s side and left it, going back to his beer.
“What’s that?” Maverick asked, frowning at it.
“Open it.”
He dragged it over with his fingertips and picked it up, looking at it, oddly concerned it would be a letter bomb or some sort of trick that’d give him anthrax or something. He opened it, and pulled out an airline ticket. San Diego to Mexico City.
“What--"
“I rented a beach house in Zihuatanejo.”
Maverick blinked at him. “What? There are five tickets here.”
“Yeah. I remember you said something about maybe taking a trip, and I talked to Charlie and I got Carole’s number. When I asked her and the girls to go, I told her you’d organised it but were too busy to call. She thought she remembered me and I think Charlie convinced her to go… We’re meeting at the airport tomorrow afternoon, after the graduation. If you want to go.”
“I…” He just didn’t know what to say. He remembered that day, at lunch, saying maybe he’d take a vacation, but Mexico? With Carole. The girls. *Ice*. And Ice had organised this? He shuffled through the plane tickets. “You don’t even know them, Kazansky.”
“I know *you*.”
“And what the fuck is *that* supposed to mean?”
Ice sighed. “Nothing.” He took a sip of his beer, looking infuriatingly casual. “Look, are you coming or not? I don’t have to go. I can… order in pizza and watch Star Trek.”
“You don’t hit me as the Star Trek type.” Maverick slipped the tickets back into the envelope and slipped that into his inside pocket. “And besides, you’re paying.”
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
---
“Unkie Pete, Unkie Pete! Melissa stole my ball!”
Maverick grinned as Goose’s little girl Jenny ran up the beach from the ocean, pointing at her sister who was trying unsuccessfully to hide the beach ball under the water. Carole was sitting beside him reading some Sartre - *damn* those girls were gonna grow up smart – and trying not to laugh, and down at the water’s edge was Ice, wearing a pair of blue Bermuda shorts and grinning like a loon.
“Go tell Tom, sweetheart,” Maverick called, and Jenny just ran back and tugged on Ice’s hand. They walked back down into the ocean, to Melissa and the ball.
“He’s pretty good with the girls,” Carole said, still staring at her book through the dark lenses of her sunglasses.
Maverick paused for a moment, watching Ice, Jenny and Melissa in the water, playing with Jenny’s beach ball now, laughing. He nodded. “Yeah, he’s great with them.”
“I’m glad you brought him.”
“Me too.” He looked back at Carole for a second, glanced at her over his local Mexican newspaper of which he understood about every other word. Carole looked up at her girls and at Ice, then glanced back at Maverick for a moment.
“Hey, Carole…” He was staring at the word ‘vida’ and pointedly not at her.
“Yeah?”
“Y’know, if you’re gonna date…”
“I don’t want to date Ice, Mav.” She smiled; he saw it out of the corner of his eye, and he started to wonder if maybe, just *maybe*, she knew a little more than she should.
“I… sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you brought him.”
Jenny shrieked; she and Ice were splashing each other while Melissa played with Jenny’s ball.
“Yeah, me too,” he said.
---
The kids were at that age where a beach ball and a week away from school was all they needed to have fun, and they had a beach house, a bedroom each and Uncle Tom on top of that. The girls were in vacation heaven. The only thing they’d have liked more was Disneyland.
Carole was having a good time, too. She’d sit on the beach or on the porch outside the house, covered in sun lotion and reading French philosophy. She’d planned to make it her major before she’d got pregnant with Sean. She’d been great about it, quit school, never looked back. God, she was a great mother.
The house was fantastic. Ice must’ve laid out a fortune to rent it but Carole and the kids loved it. Jenny and Melissa had a bedroom each but Melissa kept creeping into Jenny’s room that had the bunk bed, and Carole had the master bedroom and the queen-sized bed. She kept telling them that she hadn’t slept so well in weeks. Considering that the bags she’d had unher her eyes when they’d met at the airport had now all but disappeared, Maverick was inclined to believe her.
And she loved the town. Maverick hadn’t been sure if a beach town was going to be much different from Miramar, but really? The air was different; it *smelled* different, felt different. The sand seemed smoother, whiter; the ocean shimmered in a way he’d never seen before and it was so quiet. No planes. Which was good, because it would just have reminded Maverick and Ice of the plane trip down from San Diego – it turned out they both of them got sick to the stomach, or at least a little nervous, when someone else was flying. Carole had found it amusing. Maverick and Ice definitely hadn’t.
Carole put the girls to bed and the three adults sat down to a bottle of wine and some Mexican TV that they talked over. Carole seemed happy and Maverick was glad. Ice seemed happy too, which made Maverick… well, somewhere between curious and angry. He’d never really seen the guy smile so damn much, and in those shorts, an open shirt and a pair of sandals he looked like just another guy. Maverick guessed that he must, too.
Ice cooked. He made pancakes for the girls, who loved him in three minutes flat. He made a great spaghetti Bolognese that persuaded Carole that he was really an angel sent to earth to practice the culinary arts. Maverick tried not to stare at him from where he was sprawled on the couch as he skipped around the kitchen and let the girls help him bake a cake for Carole’s birthday. They had dinner, and Maverick slept soundly in the room next door to Ice. It was perfect.
But Carole had to get back. She’d already pulled the girls out of school for one week – she thought the trip would do them good, considering everything that had happened – but she wanted them back and settled for Monday morning. They said goodbye on Saturday afternoon, the girls tearily making Unkie Pete and Unkie Tom promise that they’d visit soon and take them to the zoo. Then they walked away into the departure lounge, Carole giving Maverick a hug and a quick wink just beforehand.
“You two have fun,” she said, smiling, a devilish twinkle in her eye as she walked away.
So he didn’t have to wonder if she knew anymore.
***
He woke with a start.
What the fuck was that noise? A plane, a fighter, probably an F-5. Fucking loud, but that was fine considering he was lying in bed in Fightertown, USA.
Bed. Not his. Christ, another morning in Ice’s bed. And thanks to that damn fool pilot who had no business flying by at – he checked his watch; 5:47am – Ice was now awake beside him.
Maverick hauled himself up to sit leaning back against the headboard and Ice followed suit. They glanced at each other, then looked away. Maverick could see the outline of Ice’s morning erection through the sheet and his own cock twitched in response. This was ridiculous. Fucking plane.
Then Ice slipped out of the bed. Maverick practically breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Ice’s bare ass retreat into the bathroom, but then he stopped and turned. He stood there in the bathroom doorway, leaning with an arm on either doorpost, naked and half hard.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, and licked his lips. He turned and went inside but that lip-lick said it all. Roughly three seconds later, Maverick was in there with him.
---
The last day. Viper called the instructors in while the guys were off at lunch; apparently Tex and Hawk had won, and when they made the announcement to the students, no one seemed particularly surprised. Everyone was very sporting about it, even Blue and Coop who, quite frankly, reminded Maverick more than a little of Ice and Slider.
Just because it was the last day, that didn’t mean anyone got to slack off. They got up in the air for one last mission, all four combat flight ructructors against the eight crews of the Top Gun graduating class. The thing was insane, exhausting, and a hell of a lot of fun. Though, of course, at the end of the day they all had to come in, change of tof their flight suits and think about leaving. Some for longer than others. And Viper called Maverick, Ice and Jester to his office.
He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about the Goddamn bet. He’d won; he collected the eighty bucks and everyone’s reluctant congratulations, declined the scotch that Viper offered and then left. Ice followed close behind.
“I wonder which one bet on me,” Ice said as they walked. “And you.” Maverick shrugged. “C’mon, you’ve got to have thought about it. Did Viper back you? Did he back me? How about Jester. Or maybe they thought we’d both lose.”
“Christ.” Maverick stopped abruptly, turned and slumped against the wall, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t need this right now.”
“If this is about--"
He didn’t care what he was about to say – Goose, the trophy, any-damn-thing. “Fuck you, Kazansky,” he practically yelled, angry but not entirely sure why. He wasn’t sure he cared who was the best anymore. He was finding it hard to care about anything at all.
“Yeah, I guess that’s one thing we haven’t done yet.”
Maverick froze – that was a low blow. He hadn’t expected it, bringing up what they’d been doing off-base whhey hey were yelling about… what the hell *had* they been yelling about? He just stared, somewhat panicked when he realised there were a few other officers in the corridor, and with a distinct look of ‘I can’t believe you just said that’ plastered all over his face. His heart was hammering, and judging from the look on Ice’s face, he couldn’t believe he’d said it either.
Maverick rested his head back against the wall. Ice sighed. Maverick couldn’t help it – he turned and punched the wall.
“I think I need a drink.”
“I think I need a doctor.”
Ice smirked. “Don’t be such a drama queen, Maverick. C’mon, I’m buying.”
---
It was too early for the O Club to be anywhere near full – in fact, there were maybe six other people in the whole place, drinking, keeping very much to themselves and looking really rather glum. Maverick and Ice were sitting at a table in the corner, sipping their beers in complete silence while the trashy pop music piped over the stereo system hung between them.
“So,” Ice said, breaking the silence at last. “Any ideas what you’re gonna do with your leave?”
Maverick shrugged, lifting his beer. It kissed against his lips but he didn’t drink; he put tottlottle down and licked his lips clean. Ice was watching him.
“I’d thought about ordering pizza and watching some Star Trek reruns,” he said, just as Ice pulled something from his inside jacket pocket. He put it on the table, flat, just a plain white envelope. Then he slid it halfway to Maverick’s side and left it, going back to his beer.
“What’s that?” Maverick asked, frowning at it.
“Open it.”
He dragged it over with his fingertips and picked it up, looking at it, oddly concerned it would be a letter bomb or some sort of trick that’d give him anthrax or something. He opened it, and pulled out an airline ticket. San Diego to Mexico City.
“What--"
“I rented a beach house in Zihuatanejo.”
Maverick blinked at him. “What? There are five tickets here.”
“Yeah. I remember you said something about maybe taking a trip, and I talked to Charlie and I got Carole’s number. When I asked her and the girls to go, I told her you’d organised it but were too busy to call. She thought she remembered me and I think Charlie convinced her to go… We’re meeting at the airport tomorrow afternoon, after the graduation. If you want to go.”
“I…” He just didn’t know what to say. He remembered that day, at lunch, saying maybe he’d take a vacation, but Mexico? With Carole. The girls. *Ice*. And Ice had organised this? He shuffled through the plane tickets. “You don’t even know them, Kazansky.”
“I know *you*.”
“And what the fuck is *that* supposed to mean?”
Ice sighed. “Nothing.” He took a sip of his beer, looking infuriatingly casual. “Look, are you coming or not? I don’t have to go. I can… order in pizza and watch Star Trek.”
“You don’t hit me as the Star Trek type.” Maverick slipped the tickets back into the envelope and slipped that into his inside pocket. “And besides, you’re paying.”
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
---
“Unkie Pete, Unkie Pete! Melissa stole my ball!”
Maverick grinned as Goose’s little girl Jenny ran up the beach from the ocean, pointing at her sister who was trying unsuccessfully to hide the beach ball under the water. Carole was sitting beside him reading some Sartre - *damn* those girls were gonna grow up smart – and trying not to laugh, and down at the water’s edge was Ice, wearing a pair of blue Bermuda shorts and grinning like a loon.
“Go tell Tom, sweetheart,” Maverick called, and Jenny just ran back and tugged on Ice’s hand. They walked back down into the ocean, to Melissa and the ball.
“He’s pretty good with the girls,” Carole said, still staring at her book through the dark lenses of her sunglasses.
Maverick paused for a moment, watching Ice, Jenny and Melissa in the water, playing with Jenny’s beach ball now, laughing. He nodded. “Yeah, he’s great with them.”
“I’m glad you brought him.”
“Me too.” He looked back at Carole for a second, glanced at her over his local Mexican newspaper of which he understood about every other word. Carole looked up at her girls and at Ice, then glanced back at Maverick for a moment.
“Hey, Carole…” He was staring at the word ‘vida’ and pointedly not at her.
“Yeah?”
“Y’know, if you’re gonna date…”
“I don’t want to date Ice, Mav.” She smiled; he saw it out of the corner of his eye, and he started to wonder if maybe, just *maybe*, she knew a little more than she should.
“I… sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you brought him.”
Jenny shrieked; she and Ice were splashing each other while Melissa played with Jenny’s ball.
“Yeah, me too,” he said.
---
The kids were at that age where a beach ball and a week away from school was all they needed to have fun, and they had a beach house, a bedroom each and Uncle Tom on top of that. The girls were in vacation heaven. The only thing they’d have liked more was Disneyland.
Carole was having a good time, too. She’d sit on the beach or on the porch outside the house, covered in sun lotion and reading French philosophy. She’d planned to make it her major before she’d got pregnant with Sean. She’d been great about it, quit school, never looked back. God, she was a great mother.
The house was fantastic. Ice must’ve laid out a fortune to rent it but Carole and the kids loved it. Jenny and Melissa had a bedroom each but Melissa kept creeping into Jenny’s room that had the bunk bed, and Carole had the master bedroom and the queen-sized bed. She kept telling them that she hadn’t slept so well in weeks. Considering that the bags she’d had unher her eyes when they’d met at the airport had now all but disappeared, Maverick was inclined to believe her.
And she loved the town. Maverick hadn’t been sure if a beach town was going to be much different from Miramar, but really? The air was different; it *smelled* different, felt different. The sand seemed smoother, whiter; the ocean shimmered in a way he’d never seen before and it was so quiet. No planes. Which was good, because it would just have reminded Maverick and Ice of the plane trip down from San Diego – it turned out they both of them got sick to the stomach, or at least a little nervous, when someone else was flying. Carole had found it amusing. Maverick and Ice definitely hadn’t.
Carole put the girls to bed and the three adults sat down to a bottle of wine and some Mexican TV that they talked over. Carole seemed happy and Maverick was glad. Ice seemed happy too, which made Maverick… well, somewhere between curious and angry. He’d never really seen the guy smile so damn much, and in those shorts, an open shirt and a pair of sandals he looked like just another guy. Maverick guessed that he must, too.
Ice cooked. He made pancakes for the girls, who loved him in three minutes flat. He made a great spaghetti Bolognese that persuaded Carole that he was really an angel sent to earth to practice the culinary arts. Maverick tried not to stare at him from where he was sprawled on the couch as he skipped around the kitchen and let the girls help him bake a cake for Carole’s birthday. They had dinner, and Maverick slept soundly in the room next door to Ice. It was perfect.
But Carole had to get back. She’d already pulled the girls out of school for one week – she thought the trip would do them good, considering everything that had happened – but she wanted them back and settled for Monday morning. They said goodbye on Saturday afternoon, the girls tearily making Unkie Pete and Unkie Tom promise that they’d visit soon and take them to the zoo. Then they walked away into the departure lounge, Carole giving Maverick a hug and a quick wink just beforehand.
“You two have fun,” she said, smiling, a devilish twinkle in her eye as she walked away.
So he didn’t have to wonder if she knew anymore.
***