Chapter Text
Ice was pissed. He’d hoped that while he slept, the lingering anger clawing at his spine would ease, that when he woke he’d have his usual single-minded focus. It turned out that for that to happen, you had to sleep. Sleep hadn’t come to him and he’d spent the night tossing and turning, feeling his frustration as a burning red canvas behind his eyes whenever he closed them. In the end, he’d given up as dawn was beginning its morning ritual, hitting the beach to run and then the weights room on base hoping to ease his tension. He’d only been marginally successful.
By the time he’d made it through their morning classes, he could feel his control on his temper slipping. Somewhere in his mind lingered regret over the way he’d snapped at his fellow pilots, the words cold and sharp and a direct contrast to the stifling Californian heat. Although he felt the worried eyes of his peers on him, Ice fell back on his trademark smirk, shoving at Maverick as he strolled out of the locker room. It only took him a moment to toss aside his usually meticulous self control and head for the Suzuki. He’d be back in time for the hop, or he won’t. At that moment he didn’t really care if he made it back. He was already a disappointment, he might as well make the dressing down from his father worthwhile.
The air felt much less stifling as he raced off base and in the direction of one of the seedier parts of town that Maverick had told him about. If Maverick visited there, Ice knew he probably shouldn’t be going there. From the stories he’d heard, it sounded like exactly the kind of place he wanted to be now. The prospect of throwing a few punches called to him, a siren song flowing over him like the wind rushing through his hair and cooling his face.
The bar was every bit as seedy as he anticipated it would be. Leaving his bike in the parking lot felt like it should be criminal and he couldn’t help but trace a hand over the paintwork, worried for a moment he may never see his baby again. The feeling passed quickly and he strolled in, pausing in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the gloom before he was moving again and sliding into one of the worn stools at the bar. It took effort to school his features; the cheap leather of the upholstery was cracked and the padding worn, but he’d sat in worse places over the years. The bar top was worn and faded, riddled with ring stains where beer bottles had perspired without it being wiped down regularly. Ice felt stickiness seeping into the elbow of his jacket when he placed his arms on the bar top. He ignored all of it as he tipped his head towards the bartender and put in his request, figuring if you couldn’t beat ‘em you may as well join ‘em.
Old rock songs played from a jukebox in the corner, the sound comforting in its familiarity. The sound crackled with static occasionally but he mostly tuned it out. Despite his eagerness to have a cold beer and escape his feelings, the beer felt lukewarm and he found that despite his moment of rebellion he actually couldn’t bring himself to take a drink on the clock. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that if he wasn’t back after lunch he had an appointment with Viper’s paddle to look forward to. It wasn’t too hard to push the thought from his mind; Maverick gets paddled but Ice is different. Maverick is like a lost puppy, Ice has a reputation to maintain. People don’t think he needs saving and he likes it that way.
His spiral continued for an hour while he listened to the men spattered across the room talking in raspy growls laden with booze, their bodies hunched over chipped tables as they joked with one another and wasted the day away. Ice’s opinions of them are pretty low but he figured he probably couldn’t judge. He was doing the same thing, after all. He knew he should leave but he felt paralysed by his emotions. Just as he concluded he would in fact stay here and damn the consequences, he heard the door open. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. Ice could feel the electric energy Maverick brought to any room, felt the way he was drawn to his wingman like a magnet. He almost cursed. Of course the bastard had found him. Ice didn’t so much as shift in his seat, hoping that if he didn’t move, Pete would take the hint and leave him alone.
In true Maverick fashion, the man missed the hint entirely. Or more likely, he just ignored them. Ice heard the sound of his footfalls across the beer soaked floorboards before Maverick was sliding into the seat beside him and asking the bartender for a beer. Ice didn’t even look at him as he spoke in his usual cool and collected voice, perfected over the course of years of these conversations with his father. “Fuck off, Maverick. You should be flying.”
Mav was undeterred. “So should you. Besides, it’s not any fun without competition.”
In spite of his bad mood, a smile tugged at the corner of Ice’s lips. “You know Viper’ll kick your ass,” he pointed out as he picked at the label of his beer thoughtfully.
“After he kicks yours.” Mav shrugged. “Won’t be the first time. What’s got your panties bunched anyway?”
Ice felt himself tense from head to know, shutting down and schooling his features. His jaw clenched so hard he swore Mav must have heard it snap closed for a moment. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
“What?” Ice heard the incredulous edge to his voice at Mav’s response. The man has no self preservation, damn him.
“You heard me. I’m calling bullshit, Ice. I don’t believe that shit for a minute, you’re not fine. You’re spiraling.”
Tom released a heavy, bone deep sigh as he searched for the right words. None came, and when he spoke he knew he mostly just sounded weary. “Just go back to base, Maverick. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Maverick digs his proverbial heels in, shaking his head. “No. I don’t leave my wingmen behind.”
“Makes no sense for us both to be in the shithouse with Viper.”
“You want me to go, you come outside and make me.” Ice knew he shouldn’t react. He shouldn’t give Mav the satisfaction of knowing he’s winning. He can’t help the way he reacts to those challenges from Mav every single time. The man was kryptonite to Ice’s steel strength of will. He threw Maverick a sidelong glance, brows raised as he watched Maverick fight a victorious smirk.
Ice watched Maverick’s battle not to smirk fail, the younger man opening his mouth to make another smart ass comment when suddenly he was being dragged backwards from his stool by his collar. “He told you to go away, pretty boy. You’re not welcome here.”
Ice didn’t think about it as he surged from his own seat, the metal feet of the stood dragging on the floor before his boots hit the desk harshly. Angry that anyone would do that to his wingman, Ice let all of his festering anger and resentment go in a punch that sent the bastard’s jaw whipping backwards while he tried to land a wobbly punch of his own. Maverick was so surprised that he just stared, probably trying to make sense of the fact his own fist wasn’t feeling the familiar pain pulsing up his arm from impact.
Ice stood there, fists clenched at his sides and a cold look in his eyes as he met the offending patron’s surprised gaze evenly. “Nobody asked for your opinion, so back off unless you’f like me to knock you on your ass.”
A hush had descended over the bar, beers held forgotten as people watched the altercation with interest. Ice barely registers the lighthearted instruction from Maverick to cool it as he watched the drunk man he’d punched stagger forwards with a snarl. He watched as a beefy fist reared back, the drunk man’s face contorted into a dark glare. Ice waited while Mav scrambled to duck out of the way –and no doubt the pilot was going to have opinions about that later– before he cut the attack off with another punch. There was a thud and a muffled curse before the stranger stumbled, crashing into the bar, earning a curse from the bartender.
Mav pushed to his feat nearby, taking advantage of the stunned silence before his arm landed against Ice’s chest harshly. Ice barely registered the touch, only vaguely aware of the deep heat tingle it sent blossoming across his own heaving chest. “Alright, you had your fun. Enough, Ice. It’s enough.”
“He called you a—”
“I know. Let it go, man. It’s not worth it, okay? Let’s just go.” Ice considered him for a long moment, taking in the green eyes flecked with hazel that looked so earnest and reasonable that it hurt. Eventually he swallowed and blinked, forcing the cold, calculated look from his face. Mav almost sighed in relief at the shift in his persona. He patted the broad chest under his hand and reached into his pocket, fumbling for a minute until he found a fifty that he shoved towards the bartender. “That should cover it,” he muttered, towing Ice towards the door.
It wasn’t until they got outside that Maverick spun on Ice. “Seriously, Ice? That’s you not spiraling? Fuck, you nearly broke his nose!”
“He called you a pretty boy.” Ice reminded him, as if that explained his actions perfectly. As far as Ice was concerned, it did justify his actions entirely.
“And? Jesus, Ice, I’ve been called worse. I—”
Ice held his gaze steadily, his usual control back in place like an armour. His lip twitched in amusement as he tried not to smirk, but when he cut Maverick off he was entirely serious. “Nobody calls you a pretty boy except me, Mitchell. No one.”
He watched the shock ricochet through Maverick, who gaped at him as he tried to make sense of that. “What the fuck does th—”
Ice stepped into his space as he started to argue, cutting him off again. Fully trusting his gut, he leaned down to kiss Maverick, his touch confident and demanding as he cupped the back of his head. Every waking thought fled Ice’s brain as he gently nudged Maverick’s lips apart. He felt the progression of Maverick’s thoughts as he stood stiff and confused for a few seconds before he threw himself into the kiss with the same passion he tossed himself into everything with, be it good or bad. Ice felt relief spread through his body as he poured himself into the kiss, letting everything else go for the moment.
When they pulled apart, Ice rested his forehead against Maverick’s, breathing harder than usual. Guilt pooled in his stomach as he registered what he’d done. “I’m sorry, Mav. I should have asked. I just—”
“Shut the fuck up and do it again. If Viper’s going to paddle my ass into next week, you can at least make it worth it, you big dickwad.”
For a moment Ice could only stare but then he laughed softly and pulled Maverick flush against his body, holding onto him tightly and giving himself into the kiss. Ice could feel himself relaxing as he held Mav, finally feeling like the world wasn’t completely off its axis for the first time in twenty four hours. He was dimly aware of the fact Viper was definitely going to throttle them, but it had been worth every swat to finally get to stop imagining what kissing Maverick was like and actually experience it. He’d been dreaming about it for months, be it in his dreams or in his daydreams in class. The man was as talented and magnetising and followed the beat of his own drum in a way Ice deeply admired. He knew the shorter pilot must have kissed a lot of people in his time and he felt damn smug that Maverick seemed so speechless now, in his arms.
It felt like hours had passed yet no time at all when they pulled away from each other again. Ice was delighted by the stupid grin adorning Maverick’s face, and could imagine the twinkling crystal blue of his own eyes. And then the idiot had to go and spoil the moment. “Took you fucking long enough.”
“You do know you have a tongue in your head, Maverick, right?” Ice pointed out, mouth twitching in amusement.
“I’m too busy shooting it off to make the first move,” he shot down immediately, offering Ice a shit eating grin that had him chuckling.
Ice rolled his eyes and squeezed Mav’s ass lightly. “I noticed. How did you get here anyway?”
“Ice. Come on. Do you really have to ask? I thought you knew me.” Mav put a hand to his heart, feigning being wounded.
“Okay then, where is the Kawasaki?” Feeling more like himself, Ice glanced down at his watch, taking a moment to do the math. It would be tight, he’d wasted more time here than he realized. “If we go now, we might make it.”
Maverick was a little wide eyed. “You were drinking...” The underlying words were loud in Ice’s ears: do you have a deathwish, Ice?
“Nah, just keeping my hands busy.” He brushed off, then paused as his brain thought of something that would shut his wingman up. He looked back at Maverick with a straight face, ignoring the urge to smirk. “You weren’t there to do that job.”
“Fuck off, Ice. I’m not your toy.” Maverick’s face heated up and Ice grinned, stepping forward and getting into Mav’s personal space. He flashed his teeth, remembering well the way it had made Maverick blush and his pants tent a little in the locker room that first time. “But you could be.”
Mav huffed softly, but broke into a delighted smile, cheeks taking on a rosy shade. “You’re such a dick.”
“You love it.” Ice could feel the way his grin turned sharklike.
Maverick stepped away in an obvious effort to not rise to the bait, sliding onto the smooth seat of his treasured bike. “Hope you can keep up, Kasansky,” he shot over his shoulder as he slid his Aviators into place.
“You know I can, Mitchell.”
Maverick kicked the bike into gear, taking off in a shower of grit and dirt that left Ice cursing as he scrambled to kickstart his own bike. That damn bastard, he thought in amusement, feeling his competitive instincts kicking in. He grinned and breathed in the sea air, enjoying the wind in his face. He knew Maverick, knew he’d be replaying the kiss in their head and wishing there was a way to convince Ice to skip the hop to do it some more. Ice wouldn’t cave though, not when it was Commander Mike Metcalfe they would answer to in the aftermath. No, he didn’t want either of them to face Viper, but especially Maverick. If they went straight to the asphalt they might still manage to get away with it, but at the very least he thought he could convince Viper Mav didn’t deserve to get his ass handed to him. He could hope.
- - -
Metcalfe knew the moment they stepped onto base. Ice wasn’t surprised but there had been a brief moment where he thought they’d escape unscathed. They’d managed to make it back before the hop, change into flight suits and get out towards their F-14s when Viper’s voice had carried over the tarmac, calm but unyielding. “You two hooligans can take your butts to my office. Now!”
“sir, we’ve got a hop,” Maverick reminded Viper innocently. Ice bit down on the inside of his cheek to avoid groaning out loud.
Meltcalfe simply crooked a finger at them, brows raised as he waited for them to join him. Pilots flooded past them in a sea of activity and Ice waited to see if he’d have to drag him across the asphalt to save him being paddled right here.
Viper quickly put an end to any ideas of escaping with their asses intact, voice raised and far less laidback than it usually sounded. “Mitchell! Get your butt over here before I drag it myself! You too, Kasansky!”
Before Mav could be an idiot and dig his heels in, Ice caught his bicep and shoved him forward ahead of him. He threw in the, “Be a good boy and I’ll kiss you some more later…” in the hopes of getting him moving, relieved when Maverick’s feet moved of their own accord. Ice chuckled as he followed along. Mav was putty in his hands. Amazingly, he’d almost forgotten about his frustration with the phone call
They arrived in front of Viper who raised his eyebrows at them. “Briefing started an hour ago, gentlemen. You can’t show me the respect of showing up, then you can stand in the free corners of my office and think about your choices until I’m ready to deal with you. Go on.”
“sir, wait—”
“Don’t want to hear it, Mitchell. Move your butts.”
Mav looked aghast but managed a sharp nod. “sir, yes sir…” he muttered as he set off for the teaching staff’s offices. He didn’t notice that Ice didn’t follow, too intent in his determination not to be dressed down where his peers could see it.
As he watched the shorter pilot go, Ice spoke up with confidence he didn’t feel. “sir, he doesn’t deserve you to go hard on him. I went AWOL and he came after me. He brought me back before I could make any stupid decisions.”
Viper looked surprised but considered him quietly for a moment. “That so?”
“Yes sir. He was trying to help.”
Viper hummed. “Alright, I appreciate the honesty. Sounds like you earned yourself a lesson with my belt, son. Get your butt inside and into a corner.”
Ice tried and failed to hold back a sigh, nodding dutifully and headed inside. He held his head high and strode with purpose into the main building on base. With a wave to a few of his comrades he headed up to Viper’s office, unsurprised to find Maverick not in a corner. “Trying to antagonize him?”
“Might not be him,” Mav snarked, turning a shit eating grin on him.
Ice raised an eyebrow at him, savoring the way Maverick’s eyes widened and his face coloured. “You know, maybe I’ll take a turn after Viper’s done with us. Into the corner, now, pretty boy.”
Hearing it in Ice’s smooth voice while those piercing eyes looked inside him had Maverick blushing and trying not to squirm. Apparently Ice making threats like that was thrilling to him judging by the sparkle in his eyes. He never looked that excited by the prospect of Viper paddling him. His smirk was cocky when he answered. “That a threat or a promise?”
A laugh escaped Ice in a short huff of breath before he pushed his normally immaculate hair back, keeping his expression closed. He took a moment to formulate a response, distracted by his desire to push Mav down on the desk and ravage him and his pretty mouth too. Before he could speak, Mav forged ahead. “Maybe we should kiss some more, since we’re here. He won’t be back for hours, we could try all sorts of… manoeuvres.”
Leaning into his gut, Ice caught his wingman by the scruff of his neck, pulling him in roughly and kissing him deeply for a moment before guiding him into the corner. “Stay there. I don’t think Viper will actually leave us waiting for two hours. He won’t trust you not to cause chaos.”
Maverick looked indignant, even as he sucked in a gasping breath. It made Ice smirk, knowing he’d left Mav so flustered and needy. “Viper thinks I’m the best.”
Ice wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything, but he kept the thought to himself knowing Maverick didn’t need any encouragement for pushing Viper’s buttons to prove himself. “I think you mean second best, Mav. And right now he wants to throttle us. How about we don’t piss him off more? I’d like to sit again sometime this month.”
For a moment he thought Maverick would keep going and ignore his unspoken warning they were playing with fire. It was a surprise to him when Mav reluctantly dropped his head against the point where the walls met, sighing dramatically. “Better be fucking worth this,” he declared. “That’s the last time I bail you out...”
“And risk the chance to rub it in my face forever? Dream on.” Ice chuckled and strode across the room to his own corner, boots heavy on the scuffed wooden flooring. He wanted nothing more than to hover in Mav’s space, body pressed against his wingman’s while he made him squirm. There would be time for that later though. Right now, he needed to try and do damage control, and part of that involved stopping Maverick from being an idiot.
Thankfully, Viper didn’t leave them waiting long. Ice blinked as he heard Viper’s familiar tread in the room, thinking to himself that it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. He winced when he heard Mav’s voice pipe up across the room. “sir…”
“Quiet in the corner, Mitchell, unless you want to do your time with less dignity.”
Ice waited with baited breath, unsure if Maverick would resist the urge to rebel or not. It could go either way with a paddling looming over them. Apparently the cocky pilot had restrained himself because silence settled over the room, broken only by papers rustling in the background. Ice waited. And waited. It felt like an eternity had passed when the commander broke through his internal monologue. “Gentlemen, front and center.”
Both men pushed their way out of the corner, stopping before Viper. The older pilot was sitting at his desk, arms folded over his chest as he watched them with shrewd eyes. “Care to tell me why you two thought you’d skip a briefing and show up late for my class?”
“That wasn’t really planned, sir…” Maverick started to explain beside him.
Ice heard the words and shook his head in exasperation before shooting him a cool look. That man was unbelievable. “Maverick, don’t you dare.” He turned back to Viper, meeting the man’s eye and steeling himself as he spoke again. “I took off at lunch time, sir. Maverick was worried and came to the bar I was at. He convinced me to come back for the hop.” It sounded worse when he said it out loud.
Viper’s eyebrows moved towards his hairline at the admission. “You planned to fly a multimillion dollar jet when you were drinking?”
“No, sir. I didn’t drink anything. Just needed to clear my head.”
“You want to spend your time at some seedy bar, ‘clearing your head’ or otherwise, you do it off the clock. Damn it, Kasansky, you are one of my best pilots. I expect better from you.” The words come out sharp and unyielding.
Ice tries not to wince or blush. “I know, sir. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
“Don’t worry, Kasansky, I plan to make sure of that. Wait for me outside the door. I want a word with Mitchell.”
Tom’s nod was brisk as he turned for the door, strolling out of the office with his head held high. Unlike most kids chewed out in Viper's office who tended to slink off to safety, he held himself with perfect posture. It lasted until he made it to the safety of the hallway before his shoulders dropped in defeat. He felt bad about getting Maverick caught in the crosshairs. The guy was a dumb ass but he had a heart of gold. He should have known his wingman would come to his rescue without really thinking about what would happen if Viper found out.
Everything’s quiet inside Viper’s office for a while and he’s just starting to relax his posture to lean against the wall when he hears the unmistakable thud of paddle attacking backside. He grimaced, barely resisting the urge to wince. More swats landed, though he didn’t hear Mav making a fuss. He only heard twelve land and sighed in relief when it went quiet inside the office. That was less than he’d expected Viper to dish out. Ice had a feeling he wouldn’t be so lucky. There was some quiet murmuring, then the sound of footsteps across the office before the door opened and Mav stepped out into the hallway. “He wants to see you now. Good luck. Come find me when you’re done, maybe I’ll kiss it better,” he teased, clearly enjoying not being the one in deep shit for once and relishing getting to turn Ice’s own smug joke against him.
Ice bared his teeth and flipped Mav the bird. “Screw you, Maverick.”
“You wish, Iceman.” Mav smirked and mock-saluted before disappearing down the hallway. Ice could only stare after him, at a loss for words for a change.
He shook his head to clear the longing from his mind, squared his shoulders, and let himself into the office. Viper was leaning against his desk when Ice stepped into the room and watched him quietly, grey eyes watching him like he could see into his soul. Ice tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. “Kazansky, take a seat.”
“I’d rather stand if it’s all the same to you, sir.”
“Good for you, Lieutenant. I wasn’t asking.”
Heat prickled Ice’s cheeks and his gaze dropped in reflex. He grimaced, pushing out a breath as he reluctantly sat down.
Viper watches him silently for a minute, eventually speaking in a firm voice. “Wise choice. Now, you have a meeting with my belt this afternoon. How you handle yourself now is going to decide how long that meeting is. That clear?”
“Yes, sir. Very.” Ice tried to push the tension from his shoulders but his fight or flight was kicking in already which didn’t bode well for the discussion to come.
“Good. You can tell me why you skipped out on my briefing.”
“I told you, sir. I needed a moment.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Kazansky. You are one of my best pilots and I need my best pilots flying at their best. When they don’t, people can die. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, sir. Not really.”
“One more lie and I paddle you before we deal with this afternoon’s activities.”
Ice blushed, slouching a little in defeat. “No, sir. That won’t be necessary.”
“Prove it, son.”
It took Ice longer than he would have liked to find the words. He could feel Viper’s gaze burning into him and squirmed, foot tapping nervously. “sir, I don’t know where to start,” he admitted. Viper merely raised his eyebrows, pushing against the desk as if to stand while simultaneously leaning towards the drawer for his trusty paddle.
Ice gulped. Self preservation kicked in, even as Viper nodded towards the desk. “I think I have an idea, sir.”
“Good. Let’s take a minute and get those words moving, Lieutenant. Up.”
Embarrassed, Ice reluctantly stood, bending forward and gritting his teeth. The paddle landed twice against each side of his undercurve before Metcalfe pointed at the chair. “Sit. Try again, kid.”
“I had.. A call from home yesterday. It just threw me.”
Understanding flickered across Viper’s gaze. “Want to talk about it?”
“No, sir.”
“Alright, but I have a few things to say so you can listen.”
“sir.” He ground the word out, gripping the rough denim of his jeans to avoid losing his cool.
Viper was unphased. He leaned back thoughtfully, speaking when he’d gathered his thoughts. “You know, I’ve been in this job a long time. I’ve seen a lot of guys come through the doors of Top Gun, legacy or otherwise. And I tell ‘em all the same thing in some form or another. There will always be people that want more, want you to do better or be different.”
Ice shifted uncomfortably and avoided Viper’s gaze. He wondered if he could cut the conversation short, though he could practically feel the determination bleeding through the older man’s posture. “Yes sir…” he muttered, sarcasm hovering on the edge of his voice. “We can skip the Brady Bunch moment, with all due respect.”
“I’m not done yet. Interrupt me again and I’ll light you up and have this conversation with you every night this week. Show a little respect, Lieutenant.”
The sharp warning made Ice blush and his gaze dropped to the worn denim of his Levi’s, his attitude forgotten for the moment. “Sorry.”
“Better. The thing I’m trying to tell you is that people will always have opinions. Doesn’t matter what you do or say, there will always be someone telling you to do more, say more, be smarter, be braver. Whatever it is. But Kazansky? You decide on the kind of man you’ll be. You decide the kind of leader, pilot, friend, son, relative you want to be. The opinions of others aren’t worth a damn, not if it paralyses you.”
Ice thought about that, blowing out a breath. “Thank you, sir. I, uh… I needed to hear that.”
“Glad to be of service. You also need to hear this, though I doubt you want to.” Viper paused, offering him a knowing look. “You are damn well better than you were today. You don’t become one of the best pilots the U.S. Navy has to offer by skipping briefings, snapping at your counterparts and generally picking fights with every person you come into contact with. I expect better. I expect you to show some integrity, and to have some respect for your fellow servicemen and women.”
“Respect is earned…” Ice muttered, not entirely conscious of the words he’d heard his father utter a thousand times.
“That goes two ways, Iceman. Don’t risk losing the respect of your peers because you can’t show some self control, because it’s easy to break trust. Takes a lot of work to build it again.”
Ice winced at that, nodding his understanding. “I’m sorry, Commander. I’ll be better.”
“You’re fine as you are, Ice. You should be proud of the pilot, and man, that you are. Whatever your old man said to you, don’t let it dictate your actions. I am very proud to have you in my squadron. You’re a good man, and a good leader, and you are going to go places and achieve things. If he can’t see that, he’s a damn fool.”
Emotion swelled in Ice’s throat but he pushed it down determinedly, managing to meet Viper’s eye. “That means a lot, sir. Thank you.”
“Alright, now we can finish the Brady Bunch moment. Lose the jeans and get into position, you know how this works. Tomorrow you try again but today I plan to light you up. Next time I suggest you make better choices.”
Ice stood, reaching for the button and zip on his jeans without protest. He pushed his Levi’s to his knees and bent over the desk. Despite being taller than the likes of Maverick, he still had to stretch a little to reach the other side. From his position with his back to Viper, he had no choice but to listen as the paddle was set down somewhere out of sight and Viper took his time unthreading his belt from his pants. The sound made his stomach muscles spasm in anticipation.
Thankfully he didn’t have time to dwell on it before the leather tapped against his ass once, twice, and then a line of fire exploded. It was quickly followed by another, and another. Ice grit his teeth, determined to take it quietly. Viper’s words echoed in his head and he focused on them, telling himself to learn from his stupid decisions today.
He hadn’t been over his Commander’s desk in a while and soon found it was hard to think coherently, his focus dragged back to the white hot pain thrumming across his backside with each new stripe. Viper was ruthlessly efficient, the stripes landing neatly until his ass was on fire and he was sincerely regretting skipping out on their hop today. He did know better, and he wanted to do better in future. It hadn’t been worth it, not when he didn’t get the same thrill that Mav got when he pulled stunts like this.
Tears burned the back of his eyes as Viper pushed him further forward, focusing on his undercurve to finish up. “Alright, son. We’re done. You took that well. Stand up when you’re ready.” A warm hand settled on his shoulder for a moment, squeezing lightly, and then Ice had space to catch his breath and blink away his tears. His backside felt hot, the skin feeling stretched uncomfortably with how inflamed the skin was.
He took a minute and stood, easing his jeans up over his throbbing posterior then forced himself to meet Viper’s eye. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“I hope not, but if it does I’ll make this look like a cake walk. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alright, get out of here. Go find your partner in crime and do whatever it is you two do.”
“Well, sir…”
“I don’t need a damn explanation, Lieutenant.” Viper rolled his eyes. “Made three babies of my own. Think I have a little more experience than you two do.”
Ice managed a soft laugh, running a hand down his flushed face. He turned to leave when Commander Metcalfe spoke. “Oh, and Ice? My door’s open, if you do want to talk. But you’re gonna be just fine. I have a good feeling about it.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ice saluted and let himself out, waiting until the door shut behind him before reaching down to rub tentatively for a minute. He cursed softly and turned to his left, stiffly making his way across base to take Maverick up on his offer to kiss it better.
- - - - -
Ice ends the story, smiling at the look of disbelief painted across Hangman’s face. “So, you see, it was a defining moment in my life. Moments like that happen throughout our lives and the decisions we make have the potential to change our lives.”
“But he was so hard on you.” Jake frowns, brows drawn together tightly as he considers the story he’s been told.
“I needed him to be,” Ice admits honestly. “So did Maverick, but in a different way. Nobody was going to be as hard on me when I screwed up than I was. I had years of feeling I hadn’t ever lived up to my father’s expectations enough, it was deeply ingrained in me to see the worst. I imagine that sounds familiar too.”
Hangman looks reluctant as he nods. “Yes, sir. Very.” He sighs. “Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”
Ice smiles. “Indeed. I’m going to tell you what Viper told me, it’s as true for you as it was for me. People will always have opinions, Lieutenant Seresin. Doesn’t matter what you do or say, there will always be someone telling you to do more, say more, find another way to do what you’re doing. But Hangman? You decide on the kind of man you want to be. You decide the kind of leader, pilot, friend, son, relative you want to be. The opinions of others can guide us, but we determine our own fate.”
Lieutenant Seresin sucks in a shaky breath. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. For what it’s worth, I think you are an exceptional pilot, and a good man. You’re going to go places and achieve things. I have a great deal of faith in you, even if you don’t yet have it in yourself, and I am committed to helping you grow into the kind of leader you are capable of being.”
“Uh, thanks.” Hangman stumbles over the words a little, his expression giving away how much that surprises him. Iceman makes a mental note to do some research after this, to see if perhaps he can understand where the young man before him is coming from and help him find his way.
“My pleasure. As far as I’m concerned, we put this incident behind us now and focus on the future.”
“I’d like that, sir.”
“Good.” Ice smiles at him. “In that case, why don’t you go and join your peers? I’m joining your strategic training today to put you through your paces. Maverick thinks it will be fun, though I’m not sure who for.”
Hangman chuckles, smirking at the thought. “Oh, I think I can imagine.” He pushes to his feet, looking far more relaxed than he had when he came in earlier.
Ice raises his eyebrows. “Oh, and Seresin? If anyone hears about this, I’ll deny it all.”
“But Mav…”
“Maverick knows who makes sure he’s fed and taken care of every day. This goes to his grave as well.”
Hangman’s eyebrows shoot up at the –probably– playful threat but salutes, eyes twinkling. “Your secret’s safe with me, Pops. See you later.”
Ice watches him go and sighs when the door shuts, leaning back in his chair and reflecting on the story he’s just told. He debates for a few seconds, unlocks his computer and opens his emails to send Viper an email. It’s been too long, he thinks to himself, perhaps he and Mav can visit the man this weekend. As for Jake? Well, he has a feeling that’ll be a lifelong project, but he thinks it will be worth it despite some inevitable initial growing pains.