Chapter Text
Sometimes, Maverick pities his husband for marrying him. Today is one of those days.
Thankfully, his husband is a very patient man. Who loves him dearly enough to put up with his ass on a daily basis.
But sometimes (Bullshit, all the fucking time, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week), Maverick likes to test his husband's sanity. Like this specific moment.
They're in the middle of Costco trying some stupid fucking gluten-free cracker when he decides to tell his husband about his first day leading the new Dagger Squadron.
"We now have twelve kids."
Ice looks at him, half-way through a bite of said cracker and chokes.
"Well, actually eleven new kids, if we don't count Bradley." Maverick sheepishly says while holding out a small cup of water for his husband to clear his throat.
Tom just sighs, doesn't even say a word, and then proceeds to buy half of the fucking store in groceries, toilet paper, new mattresses, bedframes, and the most massive fucking couch Maverick has ever seen in his entire life.
Ice then calls their architect as the walk out of the store, and tells him that they're gonna have to add another wing to the house on North Island.
The first thing Maverick's husband says to him as they're driving home with not even half the shit they bought filling up the trunk of the truck makes Maverick give Ice his shit-eating grin.
"I owe Slider fifty bucks. It's coming out of your paycheck, asshole."
Maverick makes Ice pull over so he can properly make out with his husband in the front seat for twenty minutes.
You have entered the group 'We don't need a fucking chat name for us texting Slider'
Ice: Why did I have to fall in love and marry Pete fucking Mitchell?
Slider: Because God decided I needed some more entertainment in my life.
Slider: You owe me money, Kazansky.
Ice: I now am a father to twelve fully grown adult naval aviators.
Slider: Insert cash or select payment type.
Ice: I hate you.
Ice: And for fucks sake get off of TikTok. You're too fucking old for that shit.
The funny thing is the team, besides Bradley, don't even know Mav's married until one day when he shows up to base with his wedding ring still on his finger and with a small limp (he had forgotten to take it off this morning because Ice decided to fuck him blind in the shower.) The kids stare at it for twenty minutes and Bradley looks like it's taking everything in him to not fall on the floor in laughter.
"Sir, we weren't aware you were married." Phoenix says and Maverick looks down at the platinum ring on his left hand and smiles fondly, remembering when Ice proposed to him the day that DADT was repealed and after Mav had serenaded him along with their former Top Gun classmates at The Hard Deck, drunkenly singing You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' until he fell into Ice's lap and the man himself grinning like an idiot into Maverick's neck. He doesn't realize he's humming the song to himself until he looks up to see Fanboy trying to Shazam the song on his phone and everyone else besides Bradley is looking at their leader like he's lost his fucking marbles.
"My husband and I have been together for over thirty years. We attended Top Gun together in '86. That's how we met."
"Please tell us it's not fucking Cyclone, sir."
He lets out a bark of laughter at Coyote's guess. Really? Cyclone? Of all fucking people one of his kids think it's Cyclone? Give him a fucking break. Bradley looks like he's going to burst a blood vessel and his shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as if he can hear his father's inner monologue.
"No, Lieutenant. It's ah, definitely not Cyclone, I can assure you that."
"Oh thank fuck, because if it was him, I was about to tell you to up your standards, Mav."
"I appreciate the fact that my kids care about my romantic interests."
They form a betting pool around who his husband is while he's still going over the new mission parameters. None of them guess Ice and Bradley wisely stays out of it and becomes the money keeper instead with a wink towards Maverick and now it's his turn to hold in explosive laughter as his kid holds a fistful of twenty's in his hand as Seresin tries to goad him into joining the pool. All Bradley does is respond with a smug grin before Hangman swears underneath his breath now that he's carefully picked up on the reason why Bradley pointedly did not get involved. Maverick smiles around a sip from his third cup of coffee of the day and eyes the two pilots in front of him, watching the two of them turn from rivals to somewhat friends whose knees sometimes touch each other underneath tables at The Hard Deck. (For all his worth, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell may be fucking stupid most of the time, but he's also not blind.) Christ, the two of them remind him of how he and Ice used to be back in the day before they finally got their shit together. And hell, Seresin even flies like Ice does, all technically perfect, cool, calm, collected. Maverick thinks that Goose is smiling down from the pearly gates and laughing his ass off at the sheer irony of the situation.
God, Maverick misses his husband. Ice is in DC for the rest of today and tomorrow for a meeting with the Secretary of Defense and Pete resents the fact that he's gonna be cold tonight because he's not cocooned in the love of his life's arms.
He decides to send what the kids call a "thirst trap" of him fresh out of the shower after the day's hop, and he spends twenty minutes trying to get the angle and the lighting right before clicking send and it only takes thirty seconds for Ice to reply.
You have entered the group 'My Wingman <3'
Pete: photo attachment.jpg
Pete: something to help you get through the day xxx
Tom: Goddammit Mitchell.
Tom: I hate you so much right now.
Pete: i spent twenty minutes making sure that photo was perfect and this is how you respond?
Pete: i want a divorce
Pete: and thats mitchell-kazansky to you
Tom: I am currently in a very important meeting with the President and half of his cabinet.
Tom: And you now have made it very difficult for me to pay attention.
Pete: oh fuck
Pete: i love you so much?
Pete: dont kill me please ice
Pete: ok fine i wont send another picture like that again
Tom: I didn't say that.
Pete: oh so you liked it then? ;)
Tom: I have a hard on in the Oval Office because of you.
Tom: And right now all I want to do is bend you over the nearest surface when I get home.
Pete: i miss you
Tom: I miss you too.
Pete: i hate it when you have to leave
Tom: I know, Sweetheart. I hate it too.
Pete: come home to me
Tom: Always. I love you xx
Pete: i love you too <3
Tom: Your ass is mine when I get back.
Pete: im counting on it you big stud :* :*
"Fuck-Tom," Maverick whines as he's pinned up against the front door as his husband sucks vicious red bruises into his collarbone and Ice growls in satisfaction at taking his husband apart so fast. After Pete had sent the photo, Ice had carefully saved it to an encrypted folder on his phone to use for future nights when either of them had to be away for training or meetings. He had almost come at the sight of his husbands body dripping wet from what had obviously been a shower and still purple with the hickeys he had given Maverick that morning. Last night he listened to the sound of Pete coming apart on his own fingers while Tom stroked himself to completion before they both fell asleep listening to each other's breathing. It was so disgustingly domestic Ice could almost hear Slider fake vomit from San Diego, the fucker.
"You're such a little shit, you know that Pete?" Ice bites into his skin and Maverick lets out a high-pitched whine as he tries to tear Ice's dress blues off and Ice chuckles lowly into his neck before wrapping Maverick's legs 'round his waist and carrying them up the stairs.
The night ends with Tom looking possessively at his husband's body now littered with bruises, teeth marks, and Pete's ass flushed crimson. Tom knows for a fact that his husband won't be able to walk or even sit properly for the next few days, and it sends a feral thrill down his spine with the knowledge that he was the one, and the only person in the entire world to make Pete "Maverick" Mitchell look like that.
"I can hear your thoughts from here, you possessive bastard," Mav groans sleepily into Ice's chest while his limbs entangle the two men even more closer together than before.
"G' to sleep."
Tom chuckles quietly before planting a tender kiss into his husband's hair and lets his eyes fall shut to the sound of Pete's soft snoring.
Ice calls him "an evil sonofabitch" when he reveals his master plan. Slider cackles and straps his helmet on before hopping into the backseat of the cockpit.
Maverick decides that the kids have gotten a little too comfortable around him. He decides to change that.
Ice is the first one to speak over the comms and it's utterly hilarious how fast they all freak out.
"Good morning Aviators, it's a little over a hundred and five degrees-" Maverick cackles at his husband putting on his best Viper impression.
"Holy shit it's Iceman!"
"We're fucked. Completely and utterly fucked."
"Rooster why in the chicken fried fuck are you laughing right now?!"
"Maverick, you evil little fucking gremlin."
"Believe me Hangman, I actually had very little to do with bringing Admiral Kazansky on this hop," Maverick replies through the comms and he can hear Slider maniacally laughing and Ice coughing a 'Bullshit' into his fist.
"Your goal is to work as a team to put a target lock on me, and admirals Kazansky and Kerner. If you succeed, all rounds for tonight at The Hard Deck are on us."
"Fight's on," Ice smiles from behind his mask before kicking into high gear, whipping through the clouds and scaring the living shit out of the kids by coming from behind.
"The Defense Department regrets to inform you that your sons are dead because they were stupid." Rooster says after Maverick takes him down first and Hangman swears a blue streak through the comms when he sees Ice and Slider appear out of fucking nowhere on his tail.
It's almost laughable how quickly the rest all fold, they try to put up a good fight, however, no one can compare to the legendary piloting skills of Iceman and Maverick and how quickly they can take down any MiG that dares to enter their airspace. Ice sounds like he's having the time of his life back in the cockpit, and it makes Mav beam as he walks over to his husband after the hop, grabs him by his flight suit, and kisses him dirty in front of God and everyone. Cyclone looks traumatized, the kids all have their jaws on the tarmac, Bradley and Slider are absolutely guffawing, and Jake Seresin looks like he's just fallen a little bit in love at the sight of Bradley laughing so hard he cries.
It's a look Pete knows all too well as Ice give him the exact same one as he romantically dips his wingman down for another kiss as they both hear wolf-whistles fill their ears and Slider's half-hearted groaning along with "Christ, Kazansky, get a fucking room."
If Maverick decides to makeout with his husband in a booth in the back of the bar later after one too many Kamikazes, well, that's no one's fucking business besides their own.