Work Text:
Hot Summer Nights
Maverick should have been surprised to be invited over to Ice’s summer beach house for a few days with the boys, like they were all best buddies. He knew they weren’t all fond of him. Too many animosities still lingered their; too many unspoken words that perhaps needed saying.
But he wasn’t surprised.
A year had passed to the day since Goose’s death, and everyone knew Mav would be brought down by the memories, and it wasn’t just the Top Gun guys—but also everyone. People who saw him speed by on his wheels of steel saw the melancholy there. He was depression on two wheels.
He did his best to not look as insulted as he felt.
Slider was the one to approach Maverick, though he’d heard all of their boisterous chatter turn to whispers whenever he entered a room. So he knew they were talking about him. He figured Slider must have drawn the short straw.
‘Hey Mav,’ he begun, followed by an awkward silence as he watched Mav digging around inside his locker.
‘What is it Slider?’ He responded, short and to the point. Clearly lacking patience.
Maverick didn’t look at the other man, but he knew there was a great level of hesitation in his voice; whatever he was a bout to ask was on behalf of the others, and not by his own choice. He drew some satisfaction in how uncomfortable he was still able to make them feel.
‘A get-together… At Iceman’s beach house up in Laguna.’
‘Ice has a beach house?’ Maverick asked, with raised brows.
‘Yeah… I mean, well he rented it.’
‘I see. And you thought because we are such good friends that you’d wait until the last minute to ask me along?’
He tried to look offended, but really, he understood. He hadn’t exactly been the most fun to be around the last year. He hardly ever even showed his face at the clubs, instead he drove for miles out of town, just to avoid them. Only when he was in a particularly bitchy mood would he take to the clubs, just looking for a fight.
The masochist in him wanted him to be shunned.
‘It’s not like that,’ Slider started.
‘Oh really?’ Maverick spat, and slammed shut his locker before getting right up in Slider’s face. Chest against chest. ‘Then what is it like Slider? Why don’t you explain it to me ‘cause I’m having a hard time understanding it.’
Slider, although an antagonist, often backed down when threatened, but this time, Maverick was getting on his nerves just a bit too much. He pushed his hands between them and pushed Maverick back away from him, regaining that much-needed personal space that was so rarely given—in the cockpit and the locker room.
‘Fine! We just thought that you could use some cheering up; we all need some cheering up… I mean, come on! You’re bringing everybody down! It’s bad for morale Mav, and morale is all we have these days.’
Again, taking offence, Maverick scoffed.
‘Sorry, I didn’t know you turned in to such a caring guy all of a sudden.’
Slider let that one go, but threw his hands up and turned his back, being the bigger man. Over his shoulder he said, ‘Whatever, show up if you want, but to be honest, I don’t care if you don’t either.’
The crowded locker room burst in to chatter again the moment the doors closed behind Maverick. He was pissed. What made them think that he wanted anyone’s help anyway? Didn’t they know him by now? He kicked over a trashcan on the way out, taking out his frustrations.
He had to get home.
He had to get drunk.
‘It’s Ice. Gotta be’, Maverick thought to himself as he sat there in the shadows with his fingers coiled around the neck of a bottle of bud. Ice had been ignoring him lately, and Slider never did anything without his instruction. ‘Whipping boy’, Maverick smirked. ‘That sounds about right… Slider and Iceman.’
The troubled pilot sighed.
Goose had been gone for a long time. It was the kind of thing he would never forget and never get over. The grief and the responsibility crushed his spirits more and more. He tried to not let it get him down, but each night it ended the same: with him sat alone getting drunk until it didn’t hurt. Only then was he happy—when he couldn’t feel.
But as he gulped down the beer, he was getting pissed again.
Why should they be out having fun when he was sat in misery like always? Why should they get to go on with their lives while he remained living in the past?
It’s why Charlie left.
After asking himself these questions, he knew the answer: Maverick’s ego was bruised. His life was on the verge of self-destruction, and he no longer felt like he deserved the title “Maverick”. Goose would tell him to man up and loosen up. He wanted so badly to scream and cry and let go of all of his shit that held him down, but every time he tried, something caught in his throat—pride? Whatever the case, he refused to admit that he was no longer Maverick.
A lifeline was given to him, and he needed to snatch it before they lost him forever.
‘Fuck it.’ He said, finally after tossing away the beer. ‘Enough is enough. I’ll… I’ll go to this party. ’
A small jolt of excitement caused his fingers to twitch; he hadn’t acknowledged his loneliness in some time. But when he stopped and looked around the place he once called home—it was no more a home than the sidewalk anymore. Finally he was through with moping. After a whole year of depression and distancing, Maverick was ready to move on. But he was so stubborn, and he wouldn’t let himself forget—he just wanted to find other things to remember.
---
Was he coming?
Iceman had no idea. Yet he sipped his cocktail like he was waiting for something; sat at the balcony of the infamous summer beach house, staring out through his classic aviators at the blue sky—the same sky he flew in. He felt like an idiot for expecting Maverick to actually show up, yet it got to him. It got to him. He sat there, feeling as though he’d forgotten something. Left something behind in the clouds. It was irritating as fuck! He was supposed to be there with them having fun, not making him feel bad by not showing up.
Truly Iceman understood. But it wasn’t just him—they were a team, all of them. And when there was one weak link, they chain would break and it would be all over in a high-risk profession like theirs. They needed to fix Maverick; he was a danger to all of them now more than ever.
But he felt like the plan was a bust; Maverick wasn’t going to show up. He didn’t want to be a team player, and he didn’t know why, but he was surprised.
Most of the guys had shown up together; Ice went first to check out the place, and then he called Slider, saying it was all good, and Slider arrived later on in the same day, bringing his rented van—along with Hollywood and Wolfman. Sundown said he wasn’t interested, as did Merlin. And Chipper was busy.
Upon arrival most were too tired to party, except Hollywood, who was never too tired for a cocktail. Wolfman was hyperactive in his chatter but fell asleep almost as soon as his butt met the comfort of a couch, with Hollywood squeezing himself on to the same couch by his feet with his second cocktail of the night.
‘Sleep tight buddy,’ said Hollywood, semi-drunkenly patting his sleeping friend on his tight jean-clad butt before letting his head flop back.
Slider walked passed, and upon noticing Hollywood asleep with not only a glass in his hand, but a cigarette, he scoffed and took the drink from his hand and placed it on the coffee table before taking up the cigarette to finish for him. It was dark out, and Slider headed out to the balcony.
Ice was still there, his blonde hair shining in the moonlight. He hadn’t said much since their arrival, and Slider knew the problem.
‘He won’t show…’ he said, about to put Maverick and pussy in the same sentence, but the atmosphere was already heavy enough. He pushed his hands on to the rail of the balcony, to look overhead—and to make sure Ice was still breathing. ‘You okay Tom?’ He asked sharply, not wanting to sound too concerned.
‘Don’t call me that.’ He responded quietly, still staring blankly at nothing.
Slider nodded.
He knew Ice never let anyone call him Tom, and it was the sure-fire way of getting his attention. At least he was alive. ‘I mean, hey… we put the bait out, if he doesn’t wanna take it that’s his problem, don’t let it get to you.’ He dared to rub Ice’s shoulders, and when Ice did nothing to stop him, he continued. ‘What is with you and him anyway? He’s letting the team down, sure, but this is kinda starting to feel like… it’s personal… is it?’
Iceman nodded.
Slider stood and moved away, apparently not liking the honesty so much. ‘Ice, look I know you… and him have been pretty weird around each other since the beginning, and I thought, “sure, why not”, but he’s a wreck, he’s gonna bring you down with him.’
‘Speak louder why don’t you, I don’t think the whole beach heard you.’
‘Those two? They are out cold. Been drinking all the way here.’
‘Oh, so is this designated driver Slider I’m talking with? I don’t think I appreciate the honesty.’
‘Whatever Ice, if you don’t wanna talk about it, I won’t force the issue.’
‘Thank-you.’
They stayed in silence on the balcony, letting the heat of the hot summer night wash over them.
---
The next morning, Hollywood was rudely awoken from his alcohol-induced sleep by the obnoxious roaring of a motorcycle engine. He rubbed his eyes, and groaned out at the pained headache he knew he would be suffering for his indulgence. Finally the sound of the motorcycle ceased, but it was nearby, and by the sound of it, he deduced that Maverick decided to join them after all.
‘Great…’, he groaned sarcastically.
There was some movement close—no, under him, and he jolted awake at the realization that he had fallen asleep draped across Wolfman’s lower half. While he was far from homophobic, it did no one any favors to wake up finding your best friend sharing bed space. They were all over each other most days, with consciously playful hugs and butt slaps— strictly ultra macho stuff, but the gentleness of sleeping breaths was too much for Hollywood, who sat up before anyone got the wrong idea about them.
‘Hey Hollywood.’
It was goddamn Maverick, waltzing in through the door, looking cocky as hell.
‘Maverick.’ Hollywood cleared his throat and smoothed back his perfect hair. Getting back in to character came first.
He couldn’t believe Maverick. And even though he had no ill feelings towards him unlike Slider, his attitude needed a serious check.
‘Decided to join you guys,’ he said, leaning over the back of the couch and giving Wolfman a little slap on the cheek, making him stir.
Hollywood said nothing, though he wanted to slap Maverick in the face for sure. He got up and excused himself to the bathroom to fix himself up, hoping that he would feel better after he looked better.
‘What the hell is that noise?’ Slider stopped, about to say something further until his eyes met Maverick’s smirking, cocky gaze. He was surprised, and could do little but stand there, mouth agape as Maverick tossed his bag in to Slider’s hands.
‘Hey. Take care of that for me will you?’ Maverick just walked passed him like he owned the place and threw himself on to a comfy chair.
Slider wanted to punch him, but bit back his annoyances and threw Maverick’s stuff unceremoniously in to one of the rooms—he didn’t care which.
‘So… where is everyone? I thought that this was supposed to be a party?’
Hollywood emerged from the bathroom, with a tired grumpiness, not amused at Maverick’s cheer. There was something about it though, that comforted him; Maverick was at last starting to sound more like Maverick—though he doubted it was based in honesty. He was not happy, and he was fooling no one, which is likely why he was given some slack and not punched the moment he walked in.
Maverick stared with disbelief.
This was what he was so worried about?
He sneered and shook his head.
‘Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence.’
Maverick cringed at the painful grip of a cold hand on his shoulder—an ice-cold hand.
Iceman rounded the chair, leaving Maverick visibly unstable, before standing there in front of him, clad only in a pair of jeans, belt hanging loose. Making Maverick’s eyes unintentionally wander, and his mouth unsurprisingly water. Finally he looked up, Iceman was looking down on him like always, hair mussed from sleep, but he still looked as composed and cool as ever.
‘Missed me Ice?’ He whispered, unconsciously licking his bottom lip.
Maverick was damn brave to crash his party. He was nervous, and did a pretty bad job of trying to hide it. With one leg slung over the arm of the chair, he felt open, vulnerable. He felt Ice’s accusing hungry eyes.
Damn him.
He just left, giving one of his sly smirks. Leaving Maverick with a fucking hard on that he refused to acknowledge.
After the smoke cleared, Maverick perked up again. ‘Hey Slider! You got a ball?’
Slider, who was already way ahead of him, tossed a solid volleyball in to Maverick’s lap.
---
They were on the beach in under an hour. Of course, the beach was full of vacationers and kids running around. It was nice, felt a little less depressing for all of them. Especially Iceman, who for some reason had agreed to play. It was strange because due to the long-standing rivalry between Maverick and him, no one expected them to be able to get in to board shorts and play a good game without it turning in to a fistfight.
The sun beat down on their bodies, shiny with sweat. They felt young, but with the underlying problem of Maverick’s dejection, it was hard to fully enjoy.
Iceman wanted Maverick back, he longed for that antagonism and the testosterone. Of course, it wasn’t just for the team—he knew that. It was a strange situation, all the unspent sexual tension… he did miss it, even if Maverick didn’t.
It was Iceman and Slider against Maverick and Hollywood—who did not apply for the position: neither him nor Wolfman wanted the role as Maverick’s partner. They all knew it was not a good idea to replace the memories of Goose, especially not in his condition. It was a volatile choice, but eventually, Hollywood relented to Wolfman’s pleading eyes—something he realized he was doing a lot lately.
Maverick took the game way too seriously. His face contorted to extreme displeasure, every time Ice got the better of him he would shout and kick the sand like a spoiled child, which pleasured Iceman greatly; he loved when he was able to elicit a reaction from the other man, it was his way of feeling closer to him without being physically close.
Wolfman whistled from the side, clearly pissing off Hollywood, who spiked the ball in his direction.
‘Ow! Damnit, what was that for?’ He had a big grin on his face.
Hollywood was done, and reeled off away from the action; the sweat was dripping from him. It was an incredibly hot day. He dropped down next to his friend, who reclined back on his elbows in the sand.
‘Hey! What do you think you’re doing?’ Yelled Maverick.
‘Sorry Mav, you’re on your own.’
Maverick sighed, ‘Alright this isn’t fair, Slider…’
‘I’m already gone,’ said Slider, who retreated from the playing ground too.
So remaining was Iceman and Maverick.
Hollywood and Slider left to grab something to eat, leaving Wolfman, looking on with a bemused anticipation.
‘Just you and me Maverick,’ Ice said, dripping with innuendo and sweat.
‘Yeah? Just the way I like it.’
Wolfman bit his lip and stuck a hand down his shorts, enjoying the show a little too much. ‘Come on fellas, give it all you got.’
Maverick shot him a look, but was otherwise highly engaged in his concentration, giving it his best to throw Ice off with another toss of the ball. Ice leapt gracefully and hit it back. It went on from there; with Maverick and Iceman pretty much tossing the ball to each other, until Maverick started getting aggressive.
‘What’s your problem?’ Mav shouted, throwing the ball down in to the sand, just as the two absent males returned, throwing quizzical looks at each other.
‘My problem?’ Yelled Ice, with his hands on his hips. ‘You’re the one taking this too far Maverick—like always.’
‘Oh, blow me Ice.’ Spat Maverick, apparently done with playing.
Ice wasn’t in the mood for it either, and could only wonder what the hell was going on inside Maverick’s screwed up little head. He figured he had just started getting to the surface of the huge amount of misplaced aggression that had built up. It had dampened the atmosphere. No one spoke for a few moments. Until Hollywood stood up.
‘I’m gonna catch some waves. Anyone coming?’
Slider, who was in the middle of topping up his sunblock dosage, nodded and went off with Hollywood, who waited patiently to get out of the awkwardness that had enveloped them. He looked down to Wolfman, who was looking down in more ways than one.
‘Come on Wolf,’ urged Hollywood gently.
The man looked up at him with some confusion, but following Hollywood’s gaze to the simmering tension between Maverick and Iceman, he couldn’t wait to leave it behind—at least until it’d cooled down… or heated up.
‘Yeah, gotcha.’
The three reluctantly left the other two to it. Strolled down the beach sheepishly, not knowing if it was the right thing or not. If they hadn’t known before, the certainly knew now that problems between them were going to put a stake between them. This needed to be sorted out while they were away from work.
Iceman expected Maverick to just storm off after the game, but he didn’t. He wasn’t disappointed, but he also didn’t want to speak to Maverick. As much as he hated him being this way, he hated actually talking to him even more. Nothing they had to say to each other was good or in any way respectful to each other in any way.
Though Iceman had tried.
Maverick remembered: Iceman had tried to comfort him after Gooses death—the only one to actually approach him privately and offer condolences, as difficult as it was, and as poor a job as he did, it did mean a lot to Maverick. He had almost forgotten Ice’s nice side.
‘Ice… thanks.’
That was hard.
‘What? It’s fine, the object of the game is to beat the other guy, doesn’t really matter how hard you hit the ball.’
Maverick turned from where he was sitting on the sand to face Ice, who had sat next to him.
Next to him.
‘No…no, I don’t mean that.’ Maverick wet his lips; apparently he had never thanked anyone before. ‘Back then… when Goose died…’
Ice’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Worried that he was about to start another fight, he lifted his hand to silence Maverick, ‘No, don’t go there.’
‘I need to,’ Maverick’s hand, hot and sweaty, found its way to take a strong but soft grip of the other man’s forearm. ‘Things just been getting to me, and I don’t know how to make them go away…’
‘Yeah… well, rub it, maybe it will go away then.’
Ice wasn’t the best at talking things out. He avoided getting in to these situations by staying away from situations that would require him to explain himself. He knew Maverick didn’t know how to do that, and it was why they were so incompatible. Maverick was unpredictable, Ice wasn’t… opposites attract.
‘Ice…’
‘Mav.’
Maverick’s thumb brushed back and forth over Ice’s arm, feeling those soft hairs there. It sent unexplainable shocks through his jaded system.
‘I just realized something Ice…’, Maverick said, still not moving his hand.
‘Yeah? Do share.’ It sounded like sarcasm, but the smile said it was genuine.
‘Ice… you’re one of the good guys.’
Iceman blinked, then burst out a single laugh, disbelieving. ‘I know Mitchell.’
‘No… I mean you are. And I don’t know if I am. I wanna be the hero, but the more I look at it, the more I think I’m just being an asshole… fucking it up for all the real heroes. You, Slider… you’re real heroes. I’m just a hotshot who got his best friend killed… and yet you still tried to comfort me when he died. Thank you.’
Iceman was moved by Maverick’s honesty. It made his heart skip a beat, and he tried not to show it, but it was getting harder and harder to fight whatever the hell was brewing between them; love, hate, he didn’t know which he wanted more from Maverick. Instead of ding what he felt like, and breaking down in tears and taking Maverick in his arms and crying all those deep apologies he’s been meaning to say since the first day they’d met, but instead he only nodded, and said, ‘you’re welcome’.
And that was the end of the distancing.
‘I’m gonna go with the guys, maybe they’ll let me surf with them without moving to the other side of the beach.’
Ice chuckled, ‘yeah, good luck.’
Maverick smiled back at him briefly, and for that moment, he looked like the old Maverick he knew. He smiled back, but didn’t move as the other man got to his feet and did a few stretches, teasingly right in front of him.
‘You coming?’ He asked, with a twinkle in his eye.
Ice shook his head, but he knew this was far from a rejection.
The water was warm and the waves were amazing. Maverick found enjoyment for the first time in what felt like forever. He’d been carrying the burden of Gooses death for so long, he’d forgotten how good it felt to just float away with the waves. As he lay there, he remembered Goose, and all he stood for. He pictures his smiling face and happy attitude. He had no business dwelling on the past any more, and was grateful to the guys for helping him through his tough patch—it’d gone on long enough.
He splashed around with Slider, and watched as Hollywood and Wolfman frolicked in a typically playful way, and before too long they were all over each other, grabbing limbs, diving under and pulling down shorts. Ice joined them when the sun was too high, and together they had fun, arms around each other like they were all best buddies. That was their hope anyway.
When the night began to roll up on them however, things started to change.
Beer had been brought in, and Slider was arguing with Hollywood, and some pushing was involved. It started out easy enough, but Slider wasn’t a fun drunk, and after he excused himself in a not-too polite manner from the water, he decided to head for the beach house to lie down.
Ice and Mav thought it was about time too, but Hollywood and Wolfman weren’t finished. The aforementioned pair took to the beach where they laid side-by-side, content in each other’s company for the first time in what felt like their entire history. The sun was going down, and it was nice to just watch it go down.
‘Why did you really invite me to come here?’ Asked Maverick, drying his hair with a towel.
Ice paused at that, taking a sip of his drink and swirling the ice around the glass. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
Maverick looked at him, ‘yeah… but I’d still like to hear it.’
‘Trust me. You don’t.’
Maverick smirked, and didn’t push it.
Meanwhile, back in the water, Wolfman had cooled down and let his torso float as if he were laying on the surface of the water, spitting a mouthful of saltwater at Hollywood at intervals.
‘Aw, real funny,’ said Hollywood with a grin.
‘I thought so.’
Hollywood growled lightheartedly and dove at his friend, grabbing him around the waist before he had time to object, their bodies pressed wetly together. They were giggling like children as they wrestled about; each man trying to make the other submit. But their intentions, although innocent, had unexpected results for Wolfman, which Hollywood noticed.
‘Do you have a hard-on man?’ He asked, shocked and pushing himself slightly away from the aroused male.
Wolf only grinned sheepishly, and looked down, thankful that the water to his middle concealed such evidence. ‘I don’t know, do I?’ he asked, and reached down to check.
‘You do man, I fuckin’ felt it brush passed me!’ Hollywood would have found it amusing if they weren’t so drunk.
‘So?’ Wolf chuckled, ‘wouldn’t be the first time you gave me wood ‘Wood.’ He winked.
Hollywood was silenced at that.
It wasn’t as though they hadn’t… well, seen each other before. They saw each other naked almost every day, and that kind of relationship had certain effects on their comfort levels when around each other. They never discussed it. Approaching the subject of arousal in a non-joking manner with another man was bound to bring trouble. But for some reason, Hollywood wanted to hear about it. He wanted to hear about his friend’s erection. He felt proud that have caused it—flattered. This was just one of those occasions Hollywood was brave enough—and drunk enough to push things.
‘You’re sporting some serious wood,’ he said in a low voice as he pushed himself back against Wolfman’s body, his hands venturing under the water to grab his cock through his shorts.
Wolfman flinched, totally shocked.
Hollywood never behaved this way. Being so brazen was Wolf’s style. No one could see, no one would know. He let his tongue slip out of his mouth. How long had he wanted to do this? It was wrong—everyone saw them; close as brothers. But he was excited to find that it felt damn right.
‘Whoa… man.’ Wolf gasped, as his hands found the other’s shoulders. ‘This a good idea? We’re both pretty drunk.’
Hollywood didn’t say anything, just stared him in the eye. Started stroking him under the waves, which were getting more aggressive as the tide came in. Not only was it risky, but it was dangerous, but Hollywood couldn’t stand it; all the years of dirty talk between them was bound to explode in to some sort of sexual exploration. It was strange… to Hollywood this felt fairly familiar.
‘Does it feel good?’ Hollywood asked, jerking him faster.
‘Uh, yeah… ohh yeah.’
‘Then it’s a good idea.’
Wolfman shut up and let his feet find the sand, something to support him. Though with the hands on his cock he wasn’t worried about floating away. He’d thought about this for some time—all his attempts and flirtations he thought went unnoticed. It wasn’t quite as romantic as he’d hoped, but he was too horny—as always, to care. It was hard to picture; Hollywood roughly masturbating him under the water, but Hollywood’s open mouth panting and whispering dirty things under his breath was all that it took to make him shoot.
Hollywood gasped as Wolf let out a choked whimper and fell against him. The cum felt warm as it floated between their bodies.
‘Crazy… crazy fuck,’ Wolfman panted, and fell limp against him. ‘Love you.’
The unexpected utterance didn’t go unnoticed, and Hollywood smiled, holding him close as the waves moved around them.
‘What are they doing out there? They’re gonna get washed out to sea’, Slider said, reappearing on the beach to help them bring the things in.
‘Good, let ‘em,’ said Iceman, earning a chuckled from Maverick.
Slider noticed Wolfman and Hollywood trudging up the sand, with big goofy smiles on their faces. ‘Never mind, they’re here.’ He met them halfway and tossed them something to carry. ‘Hurry up, we’re heading inside.’
Everyone noticed. Hollywood had his arm tightly encircled around the other man’s hips, whose own arm was slung over Hollywood’s shoulders. They shared strange loving looks between them, smiling like fools.
‘Well,’ started Iceman. ‘I’d ask what you two were up to, but I think it’s obvious.’
The two boys were blushing like a couple of caught kids.
Maverick and Iceman headed in together, as did Hollywood and Wolfman.
‘Starting to feel like a fifth wheel now,’ huffed Slider.
---
‘Maverick?’ Wolfman said quietly, sitting with him on the couch. ‘I’m glad you came.’
Maverick gave him a smile in return and patted his shoulder, ‘me too. Thanks Wolf’. And hey—nice job, you and Hollywood are great together.’
For a moment, Wolfman flinched, wondering how anyone could have guessed, but he wasn’t the smartest in the bunch, and just assumed that Maverick was a lucky guesser. ‘’Uh, thanks Maverick… and, Ice? You did well too. He’s a hell of a guy.’
It was Maverick’s turn to stare blankly. Sure, it was on the cards, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole relationship thing—especially with Iceman. He just didn’t know how to approach the subject. He was attracted to Ice, he realized; it was pointless denying it, and he certainly had some… feelings there inside. Certainly it was something to think about during their stay together.
When Hollywood arrived, Wolfman’s eyes lit up like a kid getting a Christmas present. And when he squeezed himself in next to Wolfman, Maverick decided it was too cute to bear and left them to check on Ice.
Iceman was alone in his room.
He looked so damn hot; sat there in nothing but a towel—evidently he’d just used the towel. Maverick couldn’t tear his eyes away from his chiseled torso or beautiful features. And when the toothy smile appeared before him, Maverick though he’d melt right there.
‘Maverick… ‘ He said, reclining back, letting that wet towel slip open as he did so.
Maverick closed the door behind him. He could almost hear Iceman purring when Maverick started tugging off his shirt.
Iceman hadn’t expected this, but it was a nice surprise.
Maverick wouldn’t let his nerves show him up in front of Iceman, his shorts were dripped around his ankles, revealing his naked form to the other man. There was some hesitation, but he pride refused to let him back down.
‘Try not to make too much noise Mitchell… we’re right next door to Hollywood.’
He couldn’t help but stoke his cock in anticipation. It came so natural, even being inexperienced being with other men, unlike Ice, Maverick tried to make it look like he knew what he was doing as he climbed the foot of Ice’s bed. He stayed on his knees, jerking himself with a cocky grin, showing how hard he could get so fast. Buying some time.
‘Let them hear.’ Maverick said, as arrogant as ever.
Iceman chuckled, a low lusty growl as he sat up, letting the towel drop as he rose on his knees to catch Maverick’s lips with his own. The kiss was hesitant, but as their lips touched, the unquenchable heat between them was felt for the first time in a new way, one that caused stirrings in both of them. Ice dominated the kiss at first, pressing their firm bodies together in a way that their cocks could grind nicely against each other. His tongue parted Maverick’s lips and found it’s way inside, tasting and swirling inside, drawing a welcome moan of approval.
Maverick however, would not let Ice dominate—they had that kind of relationship. He pushed his weight against him harder, making Ice groan wetly against his open mouth. His hands grabbed Ice’s tight buttocks, squeezed their hips together and ground hard against him.
‘Ah fuck! Mitchell!’
‘Now who’s being loud?’
Iceman growled and pulled Maverick down with him, like a feral beast he ravaged his mouth, sucking his tongue, fisting his hair. It was aggressive passion that went too long unspent. Their bodies clashed, rocked the bed, and rocked their minds. Their sexual appetite was so great, Maverick knew he couldn’t last, but he wouldn’t cum without seeing Ice cum first.
Skin slapping against skin; Maverick bucked like a wild stallion. Hard and fast, with great satisfaction making Ice scream—literally scream, in pleasure and surprise, and when the hot spill of fluids against his stomach told him Ice had reached his limit, Maverick stopped and sat up. Urgently he grabbed his own hard member and jacked it furiously to climax, shooting his pearly load all over the Iceman’s cock before finally collapsing on top of him in a sticky mess.
They weren’t the only ones in the throes of passion; they both laughed to themselves, hearing Wolfman scream out Hollywood’s name next door, evidently experiencing Hollywood’s mouth on him.
Iceman’s arms drew Maverick closer in to their sweaty love, as they laughed, unable to contain their joy. Joy for themselves and for each other. Maverick would certainly not forget this night, nor would he ever forget what Ice could do to his body the next time he was feeling depressed.
--END