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He hated it. Pete hated sitting still and listening to people who were, in his opinion, boring as hell to listen to.
In particular, this one instructor was a slow talker, took very long pauses, and sneezed perhaps every ten seconds from an allergy Pete was ready to fist fight if it meant he'd stop making that horrible noise. He was Pete's least favorite instructor, but apparently, he'd been a pilot in the past. A good one at that. Pete wondered if his callsign could have been something relating to mucus.
Coming up with callsigns for the man was one of the few ways Pete kept his sanity during the hour and fifteen-minute lecture that felt more like an eternity. Unfortunately, he needed to know this shit if he'd be a pilot.
Still, paying attention to the man was getting harder and harder. Pete's sure his eyebrow began twitching at some point. He'd been tapping against the paper rhythmically, so he had something else to focus on other than the instructor leading the room of 24 other young men entering the Navy.
Pete felt like he's finally reached his limit when his pen wasn't enough to distract him. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he paused when he heard a laugh from beside him. Pete turned, expecting to find the usual boy who sat next to him. Some kid named Jason? Pete never put much effort into remembering him. He looked like he would have been a washout anyway.
But when he did turn, he found someone else sitting in the seat. He was pale, with brown hair, and tall. Pete could tell just by his height while sitting down. He also had a mustache growing, although Pete could tell it was new.
Pete raised his eyebrow, surprised but amused by his laughter.
The guy seemed to finally notice Pete's stare, turning to him as he wiped at his mouth, covering up his laugh.
"Sorry, man." He paused, glancing back from the guy, to Pete. "I just can't take this guy seriously."
Pete grinned.
"I've been trying to guess his callsign to pass the time."
The kid laughed, whispering as he leaned slightly closer to Pete.
"Probably something like Sinus."
"Or Wheeze."
"Oh, maybe Retch."
They both laughed, Pete unable to hide his reaction as he enjoyed something in the class for the first time since he first stepped foot in.
"Bradshaw! MItchell!"
Pete turned his head away from the kid, laughter ceasing as their instructor called his surname. He straightened up but smirked as he fiddled with the pen, staring innocently.
"May I ask why you two are giggling like a couple of school girls?"
Some of the students chuckled. Pete only huffed out a laugh, about to give some witty response that had gotten him into trouble in the past. Bradshaw, as his name was, beat him to it.
"Oh, I just find–" Bradshaw squinted, leaning forward as he stared at the chalkboard the man was writing on. "'Retired aircraft from World War 2 and the Korean War' extremely amusing, sir."
Their instructor scrunched up his nose, clearly irritated, as Pete covered up his mouth to hide his grin, which he was objectively doing a very bad job at.
"Bradshaw, I don't appreciate the sarcasm."
"Oh, he's being serious," Pete replied. “It’s titillating, sir.”
This time more of the students chuckled, many trying to cover it up as the 12-year-old boy in all of them found it amusing. Pete wouldn't lie and say he hadn't said it for that reason. On the other hand, their instructor looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.
"Step outside, now! I’ll deal with you two later after the lecture.”
Pete couldn't have gotten out of there fast enough. He'd face the repercussions later, he always did, but the laughs and the way he was able to entertain himself at least a little in his least favorite class was worth all the horrendous things he'd have to do later. And, assuming it was fair, he wouldn't be doing it alone.
He ended up outside the classroom with Bradshaw, who he realized was much taller than Pete could have guessed. He was practically a head taller but lanky.
"I can't stand that guy," Bradshaw said as they leaned against the wall. He smiled and nodded at a man who passed them, who gave them a judgmental glare.
"Yeah," Pete replied. He realized he hadn't introduced himself yet. "Hey, I'm Pete by the way. Pete Mitchell."
He held out his hand, which Bradshaw looked at and stared for a moment. He grinned, taking Pete's in his as he gave his hand a firm shake.
"Nick Bradshaw."
"Nice to meet you Bradshaw."
"You too Mitchell."
He pulled his hand back, both leaning their backs and heads against the wall, right outside where their lecture continued without them.
"What do you think he'll make us do?"
Pete inhaled. "No fucking clue. Sneeze on us, maybe."
Bradshaw laughed loudly. Pete jumped a bit, surprised by the noise but couldn't help but be amused by it. It sounded an awful lot like the sound a duck or a goose would make.
"You got quite a laugh there, Bradshaw."
"So I've been told," he said, looking as he looked down at Pete. "So I've been told."
"Don't do it, Mav."
"I'm gonna do it."
"I'm gonna barf if you do."
"Then you won't next time."
"I'm gonna kill you."
Pete was doing the barrel roll before Goose could protest any further. From the back of the jet and through the comms, Pete could hear him yelling in maybe annoyance and fear, clearly not enjoying himself while Pete was. When it was over, Pete was laughing his ass off as Goose groaned from the back seat.
"I'm gonna throw you over my shoulder and toss you into the ocean when we land," Goose muttered weakly.
Pete snorted. "Thanks for the warning."
"You're welcome, asshole."
Pete chuckled, back to focusing on the sky as the sun began to set over the horizon. In the back, Goose was calm, collected, and probably trying to prevent himself from barfing. He should know by now getting into a jet with Pete meant he was gonna have some motion sickness, no matter what.
God, the sun was beautiful. Maverick loved the adrenaline from the flying, the absolute high he got from being in the sky, but this was something else entirely.
"Yo, Goose?"
"Yeah, prick?"
Pete chuckled. "You got that camera with you?"
Goose paused for a second, Pete hearing some shuffling from through the comms. A second later, Goose replied with a "yup," as he probably shook the polaroid he'd taken to carrying around.
"Take a pic. You can call it 'Goose's first barrel roll'."
He could hear Goose's laugh as he muttered something else about Pete being a dick. Still, he could also hear the click of a camera as he took the photo.
"Oh, Petey," Goose said, putting on a housewife voice as he spoke. "That's a beauty."
Maverick huffed out a laugh as he rolled his eyes. He saw the time and fuel and began his descent back on the carrier. He watched as the sun slowly disappeared. As he turned their aircraft, Goose was silent in the back for a moment, and Pete was sure he was turned around, watching the sun.
After a few moments, he spoke up.
"How much trouble do you think you're gonna be in Admiral Johnson?"
"Don't know. I'll take the blame though."
Goose snorted from the back. "Come on, Mav. We're in this together, I'll take the heat with yah."
Pete couldn't help but grin at that. Over the years, he'd had dozens of friends who had always left him out to dry when their actions caught up with them. Never would they have ever offered to take the heat.
"Allright, Goose."
Goose grunted in response, but they both they what those words and those sounds meant.
Thank you, Goose.
Anytime, Mav.
"Just talk to her."
"She's so out of my league, Mav."
"Then you have nothing to lose."
Maverick clapped Goose on the back, trying to get him to approach the cute blond he'd been eyeing all night. Usually, Goose was all kinds of confident and humorous, never letting nerves get in the way of him approaching a girl in a bar. Maverick was grinning like an idiot at the fact that Goose was having trouble making eye contact with one who sat at a bar, talking to the bartender. He had turned a shade of red Pete had never seen on his backseater, which made Maverick all the more inclined to give him the push he needed to talk to her.
"Look at her," Goose said, almost sighing as he did. Maverick could have snorted.
“I am,” Maverick said. "The problem is you're too busy overthinking it."
"I am not," Goose defended, not sounding very convincing.
"Then go up to her."
There was a long beat of silence as Goose stared at the girl, hopefully considering what Maverick had just said. Maverick looked at him, hopeful.
"Nope."
"Jesus Christ," Maverick muttered.
He jumped off the stool he'd been sitting on from the other side of the bar, being his walk over to the girl. He felt Goose's hand grasp his arm, but he was too late as Maverick slipped away. Goose whisper-yelled his name a few times, Pete ignoring him as he walked up to the girl.
She wasn't just cute but very beautiful, especially up close. Her short hair and small stature made Pete think of a fairy when he saw her.
He leaned against the bar beside her, the woman turning her head slowly with a smile. Pete grinned back, holding out his hand for her to shake.
"Hi, I'm Pete."
The girl smiled amusingly at him, slowly taking his hand in hers.
"Carole," she replied. She had a sweet voice.
"Hi Carole." Pate took his hand away, leaning further into the bar. "Listen, so my friend over there has been staring at you for around twenty minutes. I don't usually see him this speechless."
Carole grinned, leaning over Maverick's shoulder to look at Goose. Pete was sure he was an even darker shade of red right now.
Carole huffed out a laugh. "The guy with the mustache?"
Pete nodded. "The very same."
"Hm," she said, tilting her head. "He's cute."
"He is, and he'd love to talk to you, but he just….needs a little push."
"Well, Pete," Carole said, emphasizing his name. "I gotta go, but tell him he can call me at this number." She pulled out a pen from her purse, grabbing a napkin off the bar.
As she wrote her number down, Pete turned his head, winking at Goose, who had his head in his hands. It was amusing for Pete, who turned back around and grabbed the napkin from Carole.
"Thanks a lot, Carole. You just made my friends' day."
Carole chuckled, stepping down from her stool. "I think you just made mine."
Maverick huffed out a laugh when Carole winked behind Maverick, fully expecting to find a scarlet-red Goose when he turned around.
When Carole was gone, Maverick walked back towards Goose, who was glaring at him with death in his eyes.
"I hate you."
"Nah. You don't."
Goose sighed. "Yeah. I don't. Give me that, you ass."
Goose snatched the napkin from Maverick's waving hand, Maverick laughing as he held it like it was gold.
"Can't believe you did that," Goose said, staring at the numbers.
"By the way, her name is Carole."
"Carole," Goose said, repeating the name, and somehow it fit coming from his mouth. "God, she's gorgeous."
"Are you gonna keep telling me, or her?"
"I will, I will," Goose said, folding the paper and putting it in his jacket pocket. "But right now we're celebrating."
Goose grabbed the two beers they'd ordered earlier, handing one to Maverick as he smiled at him widely. "Happy birthday, dear."
Pete laughed, slapping Goose on the shoulder as he passed him a beer he'd bought for him.
"Thanks, honey."
They laughed, taking a long drink from their glasses before setting them back on the bar.
"So, what do you want, birthday boy?" Goose asked.
Maverick chuckled into his glass. "Kind of late for that, don't you think?"
Goose shrugged. "I'm a 'play it by ear' kind of guy."
Pete nodded sarcastically, sighing as he leaned against the bar, thinking. He couldn't think of anything he actually wanted besides what he already had.
"I just wanna keep flying, Goose."
Goose grinned ever so slightly, looking down before looking back as he took another drink of his beer.
"Well, I can do that, Mav."
Goose titled Maverick chin up, leaning down as he stared up his nose. From where Maverick's eyes were, he could see Goose cringe as he examined what might be a broken nose.
"Yeah, I think that's broken," Goose said, letting go of Mav's chin as he wadded up some gauze next to him.
The barracks they were in were small, so the bed Mav sat on, and the chair Goose pulled up was not exactly a great fit. Maverick needed to go somewhere a senior officer wouldn't see him and his bloody nose.
"I could have guessed that."
"Don't be snippy," Goose said, tone slightly stern. That shocked Mav.
There was a beat of silence as Goose gathered up the gauze and gave it to Mav. Mav took it and gingerly placed it below his nose to stop the blood flow. After another few moments of silence, Maverick spoke up, hating the quiet between them.
"He started it."
"And clearly finished it."
Maverick scoffed, nodding his head, which he regretted immediately as pain shot from his nose.
Goose shook his head at Maverick like a disappointed mother. "You can't go around being an ass to every guy who's like, six inches taller than you."
"Yeah, well, that's almost everyone."
Goose chuckled, which was Mav's goal. He didn't like a stern Goose, who was usually very relaxed and carefree, much like Mav. That's how they became friends in the first place, he thought.
"Seriously, though," Goose said again. "We're not at the academy anymore man, we gotta…I don't know. Be adults? Naval aviators?"
"Pilots?" Maverick suggested.
Goose shrugged. "I mean, It's not like that's what I signed up for but if we must."
Maverick laughed again, glad that he could. It only hurt a little this time.
"I know, Goose. Usually I wouldn't but the guy said some bullshit about you and Carole. Said some nasty things, then something about you knocking her up."
Goose froze, and Maverick thought he shouldn't have said anything for a second. The others in their squad had met Carole a few times since where Goose went, she usually followed. He didn't let insults about two of his favorite people fly. Sure, his nose was killing him now, but Maverick didn't regret his actions.
He did sort of regret saying anything to Goose though, cause he was just staring at him.
"Uh, Goose?"
Goose shook his head, leaning back against his chair. He suddenly looked very rigid and nervous. He ran a hand through his hair, letting it fall onto his lap. Odd of Mav's backseater.
"Yeah, Mav, so…about that."
Maverick raised his eyebrows. He waited as Goose rubbed his hands together.
“So, Carole is pregnant.”
Mav froze. His mouth fell open a little, taking in the news very slowly. He forgot about his bleeding nose, which started dripping again, so he quickly covered it with gauze.
"I don't know how he figured it out, probably heard me on the phone with her. She told me yesterday."
Mav didn't say anything. He stared, shocked.
"We're also now getting married in a month."
Mav didn't respond.
"And I want you to be my best man."
Everything seemed frozen for a second. He stared at Goose, and Goose stared at him, Mav shocked, and Goose confused. It was a lot of silent staring, but Mav couldn't help it. He hadn't been this surprised in a while.
"Mav?"
"You're having a kid."
"Um…yeah."
"I'm gonna be an uncle."
Goose huffed out a laugh. "I mean…yeah."
"Holy shit, Goose."
Mav let go of the gauze and hugged Goose then and there, fists against his back as Goose returned it, surprised. Maverick couldn't help it. He realized the surprising feeling was just pure unbridled joy waiting to be released.
A mini Goose. A mini Carole. Mav was gonna love that kid to death.
"" Hey, you're probably bleeding all over my back," Goose said through a laugh.
Mav backed up, holding the gauze back to his nose. He was smiling now and probably looked hysterical as he laughed with blood all over his face, but he didn't care. Goose was having a kid.
"So?" Goose said, eyebrows shooting up.
"So what?"
"Best man?"
Maverick broke into another grin.
"Of course. Goose, yes I'll be your best man."
Goose laughed, clapping his hands together and his almost permanent smile returned to his face. Maverick almost forgot why he'd been upset a few minutes earlier.
"Good, good. God mav, I'm having a kid. I'm getting married!"
Although Goose seemed in hysterics, too, there was a genuine, happy smile on his face as he said it. Mav doesn't think he'd ever seen Goose this happy before. Not when they're flying, not when they graduated, never. Goose was absolutely, positively delighted, and Mav couldn't have been happier for him.
"God, you need to get that nose fixed."
Maverick laughed, pretty much thinking the same thing at this point.
"Still handsome?"
"Why, of course. The blood really brings out the green of your eyes."
They both laughed then, and a minute later, Maverick was walking across their carrier and to the medical center to get his nose fixed. He knew it would hurt like a bitch, but all he could think about now was that his best friend's life was about to change drastically, but he couldn't be happier for him.
Goose was having a kid. They weren't even born yet, and Maverick already loved them.
Maverick was tapping his foot on the ground repeatedly, the rhythm and act being the only thing keeping him from thinking about anything else.
Fifteen hours since she went into labor and 4 hours since he got to the hospital. Four hours since he last saw Goose and nearly three months since he'd seen Carole.
God, it almost didn't feel real. He'd flown in the aircraft thousands of feet in the air, going at speeds some men could only dream of. Still, he wasn't nearly as nervous then as he was now.
A nurse came into view. He raised his head as she looked around at the other families and friends in the waiting room.
"I'm looking for a…" she paused, a confused look on her face. "Maverick? The Bradshaws sent me."
Mav stood up immediately. "That's me."
He walked up to the nurse quickly, maybe seeming frantic. He couldn't help it; he was excited.
"Right this way," she said with a smile. Maverick followed her close behind.
She walked further down the halls, making a right, then turning left into a room. Maverick followed behind and probably rushed into the room a little too frantically. He paused when he saw them.
Carole was in bed, looking tired but happy. Goose was in bed next to her with his arm around her shoulders. In Carole's arms was a baby. Mav froze when he saw them.
They both looked at Mav, Goose the first one to speak up.
"It's a boy."
Mav laughed unexpectedly, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the boy in Carole's arms. She was glowing, smiling so widely that she looked like the sun.
"Do you want to hold him, Mav?" Carole asked.
Mav looked from her to the baby. He nodded his head, unable to speak for some reason.
Goose took the baby from Carole, watching the kid the whole time. He slowly walked around the bed and to Maverick. Goose held him out, Maverick being very careful to take him from Goose. He stirred slightly when Goose placed him in his arms but stayed asleep. Once he was in Maverick's arms, he looked at him closely.
He was so tiny, so pure. Just a baby. He felt so small in Maverick's arms he was afraid he'd break him, but he knew he wouldn't.
I got you, kid, I got you.
Maverick stared down, rendered speechless by the child in his arms. God, if he already had that power over him, Maverick didn't know what he would do when he started talking.
"What's his name?" Maverick finally managed to ask.
"Bradley," Goose said.
Maverick finally managed to look up, staring the couple in the eyes.
"Seriously? Bradley Bradshaw?"
Goose and Carole both glanced at each other, smiles on both their faces.
"Well, Carole had an uncle named Bradley—"
"—and Goose thought the name sounded nice."
"Yeah! And Bradley's a good name, don't you think?"
Maverick could only stare in awe at the couple, thinking one thing at the moment; they were perfect for each other.
Maverick chuckled, turning his attention back to the baby, to Bradley.
Bradley's eyes had opened, and then Maverick saw they were brown. Just like Goose. He was looking up at Maverick with no real expression, just staring. Still, Maverick was entranced.
"Hey Bradley," Maverick whispered.
Bradley cooed, or whatever noise a baby made when they seemed…happy. Maverick smiled down at the kid.
"God, you're gonna be the death of me, aren't yah?"
"I hope not," Goose said.
Maverick looked up at Goose. He hadn't gotten a good look at his friend since walking into the room, but damn, if he didn't look like the happiest man on earth.
"Cause you're watching over that kid too."
Goose sounded lighthearted, but there was a truth to his comment. One Maverick already knew.
Goose was his best friend, his brother, and his family. That made Carole his family. That made Bradley his family.
"I know, Goose."
Maverick looked back at Bradley, unable to keep his eyes off him. He looked like Goose, he finally noticed. The eyes, the baby nose, even the smile. Maverick never stood a chance.
"I know."