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Maverick has his sights set on Charlotte Blackwood, callsign Charlie. And why wouldn’t he? She’s got blonde curly hair and a strong spirit. She’s small, just the right size to ride on the back of Maverick’s motorcycle. She’s impressive, not putting up with any of Maverick’s bullshit but making sure he knows his value as a pilot and otherwise. She’s their instructor, the one who’s teaching the best of the best, which means she knows her stuff.
And she’s a woman.
Ice has noticed every look that Maverick and Charlie exchange during class while she’s teaching them some maneuver or other. Their gazes are always full of fondness and smugness alike, as if they know something that no one else does. And he supposes they do. They know what it’s like to be loved by the other. Or, if they’re not quite there yet, liked.
He’s never had anyone look at him that way. Like he was someone to be wanted.
At the very beginning of their time at TOPGUN, he thought maybe there was a chance. The very first day of class, when Maverick kept turning around to look at him with calculating eyes, like he was trying to figure him out. Ice noticed Maverick from the start – his arrogant attitude, walking in like he owned the place, like he’d already decided he was better than all of them. The way he laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world every time he cracked a joke with his RIO, Goose, who Ice knew from flight school. Goose is a good man, so Ice thought that if he’d chosen Maverick as his pilot, Maverick must’ve been a good man too.
Boy, was he wrong. But that didn’t stop him from looking.
Because the thing is, Maverick was looking at him too. Ice was watching him from the moment he sat down, wondering if the man could feel his eyes boring a hole in the back of his head. And then Maverick turned around, and Ice almost dropped the pen he was twirling. He wondered if his face was betraying any of the interest he was feeling, so he lifted the pen like a shield and just kept twirling. Maverick smirked a little and turned back around. Ice wondered if his first impression of him was “the guy with the pen,” and cursed himself. He never really was good at first impressions.
But Maverick kept looking, and this time Ice gave him a smirk. He knows he has a good smile. Girls have told him that, in the past. All the way back to high school.
He remembers the first girl he went out with. She had long, dark hair and a pretty face, or so all his friends said. He had fun talking to her, so when she asked him out, he figured he should say yes. That was what people like him did, after all. Went out with girls. He’d always kind of known he was attractive. It’s what everyone said, as if it was his best feature. Adults said, “You’re going to be a real heartbreaker when you grow up.”
But they all looked at him as if that was his only redeeming quality. So when he thinks about being wanted, he means he wants someone to know and want all of him. Or at least more of him than his good looks. Because that girl he went out with in high school didn’t really ask about him. She didn’t want to know him, not really. They chatted for a bit, went out to a diner a few blocks from school and ate a lunch full of small talk. Then she kissed him against a tree on the street, and kissed him again, and Ice thought, Am I supposed to enjoy this?
It wasn’t until a year later he found out why he didn’t, when a boy called him pretty, and Ice didn’t mind. And then the boy kissed him, and Ice really didn’t mind. Because for some reason, he would rather have a boy pressed against him in a dark, empty locker room than a girl in plain sight.
He kind of hated himself for it. He thought, why did he have to make life harder for himself? Why couldn’t he just like a girl? Why couldn’t he find them pretty?
Then again, why would he look twice at a girl when he could look at Maverick instead?
They go to the Officers’ Club, and Ice gets to talk to Maverick. He looks at him the whole time, wanting Maverick to look at him too, but Maverick’s eyes are darting everywhere, and he’s defensive against every word Ice says from the moment he mentions Cougar. So Ice does what he knows best, and snarks at him right back. He didn’t really think Maverick would be interested in him anyway, he tells himself. Really. And if he hoped, then he was stupid.
Right after they talk, Maverick serenades a girl at the bar, and then Ice knows he’s really got no chance, because Maverick is the type of person to see something he wants and then go for it. Ice isn’t one of those things.
Then she shows up the next morning as their civilian instructor, and Maverick takes up the entire briefing time flirting with her, and Ice thinks, Well, that’s that. Maverick’s definitely off the table, if he was ever even a possibility in the first place.
It’s a future of loneliness for Iceman once more.
After that, Ice just watches. He watches Maverick and Charlie dance around each other every class. He watches Maverick in the air, the reckless but impressive way he flies and the way he disregards everyone else when he’s in a plane.
He tries to tell Maverick this, because even if he can’t have him he still doesn’t want him to keep putting himself and others in danger. But Maverick won’t listen to him, which Ice supposes is fair. After all, they barely know each other. What Ice says shouldn’t matter.
And then all of a sudden, it does matter. Maverick flies through his jet wash on a hop, and his plane spins out to sea and Ice feels like he’s going to be sick. He caused that. He did that.
He sees Maverick and Goose eject from the plane, sees the way Goose is hanging limply from the parachute and is filled with dread. He prays to a God that he doesn’t even believe in that they’ll be alright.
They have to be alright. They’re Maverick and Goose. Untouchable by death. Riding their wave of luck all the way to the top. The very definition of young and dumb. That can’t be over.
And then they’re told that Nick Bradshaw is dead.
And it all falls apart.
Suddenly, what Ice says matters. He hears that Maverick might quit, and honestly, Ice doesn’t blame him. But the Navy needs an aviator like Maverick. Someone who can challenge them and teach them. Someone who can fly for them fearlessly.
Maybe he needs Maverick too, a little bit. Maverick brings out the best and the worst in Ice, and he doesn’t think he’ll know how to act anymore if Maverick leaves.
So he tries. He says, “I’m sorry about Goose.” And, “Everybody liked him.” And then, because he can’t figure out what else to say, “I’m sorry.”
He knows it’s not enough.
Graduation comes around, and Ice and Slider win the Top Gun trophy. He can’t bring himself to feel as elated as he should be about it. He’s finally proven himself. He’s the best of the best, and no one can tell him any different, because he’s got that trophy as proof. He can laugh in the face of anyone who ever doubted him, and you better believe he’s got a long ass list.
But he’s thinking about Maverick. Wondering if he’ll show up. If Ice’s feeble attempt helped, even the slightest bit, to convince him to stay.
And then he sees him moving through the crowd in his dress whites, and then he’s standing in front of Ice and shaking his hand, saying, “Congratulations.”
Ice replies, “Thank you,” and he tries to convey everything in those two words. Thank you for challenging me. Thank you for not leaving. Thank you for just being you.
Ice knows Maverick doesn’t see him the way he wishes he would. The way he would in a perfect world, if things actually went Ice’s way and the universe threw him a bone. But they’re in this imperfect story, where things don’t line up and Maverick isn’t interested in him and Goose, the best out of all of them, dies. And Ice has learned to be okay with that. If he wasn’t, he would have been driven crazy already.
He can stand a life like this, where he gets to win sometimes. Winning Top Gun was realistic. It was attainable. Falling for Maverick isn’t. And Maverick falling for him? Well, that’s just impossible.
He’s confident in that until after their first mission, when he tells Maverick, “You can be my wingman anytime,” and smiles at him because they just got their first victory, and everyone’s cheering and shouting and hugging them. But Maverick’s eyes are on him, and he says with a smile of his own, “Bullshit. You can be mine.” And then they both go in for a hug, and for one long second Ice has Maverick in his arms. Maverick gets pulled away by someone else once they let go, and Ice watches him yell happily with their friends.
Ice was wrong again, because Maverick is a good man, and maybe it’s not so unrealistic to imagine himself with Maverick, because if they can save each other’s lives, they can do anything. Before, it was antagonism all the time, constant competition and showboating just for the hell of it. Now, they’re something resembling friends, and that could go anywhere. He hasn’t forgotten the way Maverick looked at him on the first day of TOPGUN, before he met Charlie.
Well, there’s still the matter of Charlie. Last he heard, she was going to D.C., but that doesn’t really mean anything. He doesn’t know how serious things are between Maverick and Charlie, but the way they always looked at each other during classes, Ice wouldn’t be surprised if they’re it for each other.
It’s good Maverick’s happy, he supposes. He deserves that much.
But when Ice brings up Charlie some time later, Maverick gets all cagey and quiet and he changes the subject so quickly that Ice thinks something must’ve happened. And he starts to imagine a possibility, which is extremely dangerous. Funny, isn’t it, because he always tells Maverick he’s dangerous. Ice didn’t realize just how dangerous.
There’s another time where Maverick offhandedly mentions that Charlie’s in D.C. now, and that he wishes her well, which is about the time when Ice starts reading into everything. Every look that lingers, every bout of laughter shared, every time they touch. It’s driving him insane, and he curses Charlie for leaving because now he has hope, and sometimes hope is the worst thing you can give a man. Especially a man like Ice, who almost never dares to let himself dream.
Oh, but when he does, he dreams big. He dreams of Maverick in his arms again, Maverick directing that arrogantly bright smile at him, Maverick seeing him and liking what he sees.
But Maverick likes women, obviously. He’ll meet some other girl who knows how to handle his bullshit and live happily ever after with her. Ice isn’t going to consider that Maverick could be bisexual or something just because he wants him to be. Anyway, he rarely meets people like him. It would have to be a miracle for Maverick to be one of those people.
He doesn’t consider it when he decides to teach at TOPGUN, too, and Maverick grins at him when he finds out and says, “We’re gonna make a hell of a team, Kazansky.”
He doesn’t consider it when Maverick starts smiling at him more. During classes, in between classes, after work. He’ll be teaching a maneuver and then look over and smile at Ice, who’s pointing at things on the whiteboard. Or Ice will be telling the class something, and then he’ll look over at Maverick and see him just watching him with a fond look on his face, and Ice has to try not to choke on air as he turns back to the class and can feel Maverick’s eyes still on him.
After work one day near the end of the session, Maverick gives him yet another smile and asks him if he wants to go for a drive. Ice says incredulously, “On that thing?” and gestures to Maverick’s bike, which frankly is a death trap and Ice doesn’t know how Maverick hasn’t fallen off it.
Maverick says, “Yeah!” like it’s completely normal. On one hand, Ice doesn’t trust Maverick’s bike at all. On the other hand, he does trust Maverick. And he’s always wondered what it’s like to ride that motorcycle. If it’s anything like flying, if it makes you feel free. So he says, “Alright,” and hops on behind Maverick when he gestures.
“Hold onto me,” Maverick says, and oh, Ice did not think of that. He wraps his arms around Maverick and leans forward a bit, and Maverick starts up the motorcycle and revs the engine, but Ice can still hear the beating of his heart over the roar of the bike. Maverick starts driving, and Ice squeezes Maverick tighter as they speed up, not wanting to get thrown off or anything. He feels kind of wobbly, like something could tip at any moment.
The sun starts to set as they drive up the coast, and Ice turns his head to watch it draw closer and closer to the watery horizon. It glints off the ocean, sparkling as the waves below them crash onto the beach and the cliffs. Pink and orange spread across the sky, and they’re just driving peacefully along the water, and okay, maybe Ice gets the appeal of the bike. They’re in a rhythm now, not having to take any sharp turns now that they’re just going straight on Highway 101.
It gets colder after the sun goes down, but Ice is still pressed up against Maverick and Maverick is warm. They stop somewhere in Carlsbad or Oceanside, and Ice reluctantly lets go and steps off the bike. They sit on a nearby bench that’s facing the water, and the sky’s still got a little sun in it so it’s dark blue and dusted with orange at the bottom. Ice watches the water for a bit, not thinking about Maverick’s leg right next to his on the bench, almost touching.
“You ever wonder if there’s a whole other world out there?” Maverick asks, gesturing at the scene before them.
“Which one, the sky or the sea?”
Maverick shrugs. “Both. Either. Can you imagine, castles in the sky and cities in the sea?”
“Didn’t know you were such a deep thinker, Mitchell,” Ice teases, nudging Maverick with his shoulder.
“Shut up,” Maverick says, nudging him back and then staying there. Ice stills, and looks back out at the darkening sky, and he is not panicking at Maverick’s arm pressed against his.
He turns to chance a look at Maverick, and his breath catches, because Maverick is looking right back.
“Ice,” Maverick says softly. They’re only inches apart and Ice can feel the breath of Maverick’s words on his face.
“Maverick,” Ice returns, searching his face and his eyes for something. He’s not sure what he’s looking for.
“Do you think there’s a world where you kiss me right now?” Maverick asks, and Ice stares at him in shock.
Does he dare to dream?
He leans forward the slightest bit, bringing himself closer to Maverick, who just watches him, waits for him to finish the job. Ice can hear his heartbeat again, and his breathing is shallow, and it’s the most terrifying thing he’s done, maybe ever, but he leans in more to close the distance and then he’s kissing Maverick, and Maverick is kissing him back, and Ice thinks this must be a dream because things like this don’t happen to him.
But it’s happening. It’s happening, and Maverick is running his fingers through Ice’s hair and messing it up but Ice doesn’t care, and he pulls Maverick closer and wraps his arms around him and keeps kissing him.
They pull back eventually, and Ice says softly, “Hi.” He runs his thumb gently along Maverick’s cheek, and it doesn’t feel real that he can touch him like this.
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Maverick says in wonder.
Ice laughs a little. “Then why’d you ask?”
Maverick shrugs. “Felt like taking a risk.”
“When do you not?”
Maverick rests his head on Ice’s shoulder, looking out at the ocean again. Ice keeps his arm wrapped around Maverick and presses a kiss to the top of his head. They stay like that for a long while, and it’s just the two of them in this quiet place.
It isn’t until some time later that Maverick hops up off the bench and then grabs Ice’s hand to pull him into another kiss. They crash into each other, and Maverick murmurs against his lips, “It’s always been you, Tom Kazansky.”
Ice pulls back. “Really?” he asks in disbelief. “What about Charlie?”
Mav shrugs, tracing patterns on Ice’s chest through his shirt. “Goose bet me to get with a lady, that first night at the club. After that, well, I guess it was just easier to keep going after Charlie. I didn’t think you’d even want me.”
Ice breathes out a laugh. “You’re such a dumbass, Mav.”
Mav grins. “Yeah, but I’m your dumbass.”
Ice leans in to kiss him again, reveling in the way Mav is looking at him. “Damn right, you are.”