Chapter Text
Maverick is aware he looks like someone who’d hate Valentine’s Day, but the opposite is true.
He loves Valentine’s Day, I mean, sure PDA is annoying sometimes, but he loves how everyone gets to celebrate love!
He’s fucking screwed though. His last few Valentine’s Days were spent babysitting Bradley while Goose and Carole had a date, but Goose is gone, He’s an instructor at Top Gun, and he’s friends with Iceman.
The last one is what he’s hung up on at the moment, if you needed to know.
See, usually people have friends they don’t secretly think is amazing and wonderful and very attractive and the best to talk to and the best drinking buddy and-
Well. You get the picture.
So he has a crush on Ice. Big deal, he can go another year spending it with his family and no romantic dates whatsoever.
“I can’t do this!” He screams into a pillow in his room at Carole’s house.
She rolls her eyes. “You still thinkin’ it’s a ‘big deal’, Mav?”
“Fuck me in the asshole, why do I do these things to myself?”
“Y’know, I’m aware I’m blonde, but I’m not the blonde you want to do that to you.”
He lifts his head to glare at her as she snickers.
“You should go out, get drunk or something, Mav.” Carole remarks as they’re out getting groceries, and he turns to her from where he entertains Bradley with his sunglasses.
“Nah, I’d rather stay in with you guys.”
“Who knew the entertainer Pete Mitchell would rather stay in?” A voice drawls behind them. As they turn, Maverick’s heart skips a beat as the one person he didn’t want to see (lies, lies, and more lies) smiles at them from where he grabs milk.
“And who knew the elusive Tom Kazansky was really an eavesdropper?” He smirks, pretending to ignore Carole’s knowing glance as Ice walks up to them.
Ice grins, “Ever since his victims talked loud enough to be heard across the aisle.” He turns to Carole, “Carole, I haven’t seen you since the instructors’ brunch. How are you doing?”
“It’s been a while, Tom, I’m doing wonderful! Say, are you doing anything this Saturday?”
Maverick’s eye twitches.
“Actually, if all goes well, I’m going out that night, what about you two?” Maverick might jump off of a roller coaster. Maybe even the Eiffel Tower, or the Statue of Liberty, anything to get out of this conversation.
“Really?” Carole’s tone accompanies the gravestone engraving he plans in his mind, Peter “Maverick” Mitchell, friend, son, naval aviator and friendzoned. Died of embarrassment and a bit of suicide. But mostly embarrassment.
Bradley’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Mama, I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Oh, I can take you, come on,” He lifts Bradley out of the shopping cart a bit too enthusiastically. “Great seeing you Ice, but you know, duty calls!” He laughs awkwardly as he gets the fuck out of there, Bradley following.
He sobs in his bed, half eaten ice cream tub on his nightstand.
How much is a ticket to France, he wonders, maybe he can make a new life for himself instead of jumping off the Eiffel Tower.
Wait, he hates the French. Never mind.
Carole peeks in his room, concerned. “Mav….? You..good?” She says, noting the tear tracks on his face and the many tissues he’s used.
“Leave me alone, Carole.” He groans, throwing his arm over his eyes.
“You know you look like a teenage girl, right?” He throws one of his pillows at the door as she laughs, closing the door and walking away.
“You look like shit, Mitchell.” Viper says as he walks over to the coffee machine. Maverick reminds himself that no matter the favoritism, Viper is still his boss and has sole control over how much he gets paid.
“Thanks for the compliment, sir.” He pours himself a cup of coffee, and downs it black.
“Woah. What’s up danger’s ass today?” Jester walks in, eyes widening at Maverick’s display.
“No clue, I didn’t tell him the plans for tomorrow, but maybe I’ll wait till he cools down.”
“ He is right in front of you, sir.” He looks up. “Wait, what? What plans?”
“Well, tomorrow we’re giving the students the day off, so me and jester thought you and Ice could go up there and fuck around, practice maneuvers and stuff you want to teach the kids, and the best part, is you can even bring Carole and your kid along, give him a tour, my treat.”
Oh shit, maybe he doesn’t need to kill himself!
“Oh thanks, sir, I’m sure Bradley will be ecstatic!”
He was, in fact, ecstatic.
After the screaming and running around, Bradley thanked Maverick profusely, and ran to his room to find his favorite toy to bring along.
Carole turns to Maverick. “So you get a whole day to tour us around and fly with your boyfriend~” she grins in a singsong trill.
He glares at her. “Sometimes I wonder why I decided to move in with you.”
She giggles as she walks away. “Survivor’s guilt, honey!” Her voice fades as Maverick’s left alone in the living room.
She’s right, though.
He doesnt think Bradley could be more happy than this ever again. If he didn’t have any manners he’d have broken a lot of rules at the base.
“And here is the ready room where you’re going to listen to me and Ice flying!” Bradley looks at him with stars in his eyes, “Really!”
“Of course, now you take a seat with your mom and give me and Ice time to get in our planes okay!” His head nods so fast it could’ve flown off his neck.
Maverick stands up and nods at Viper where he stands next to Carole.
He loves flying with Iceman. He thinks about it everyday, he literally told himself this yesterday.
Ice is graceful in the air, as perfect as always. If he died in the air, flying on Iceman’s wing, he would be content.
Well, obviously he wouldn’t be content , but it’s a sight he gets the pleasure of seeing at its full capacity. He doesn’t have to talk, he doesn’t have to think. He flies, and Ice matches him move for move, maneuver after maneuver.
They banter as they fly, even playing hide and seek in the mountains and clouds.
“Where’d you go?” Maverick looks around the sky, searching for his wingman.
“Right here.” His eyes widen as a plane suddenly emerges from his peripheral vision, startlingly close to his canopy.
He gapes as he makes eye contact with Iceman 3 meters away, silent in shock. In the hand that isn’t clutching the joystick, Ice holds a poster, and Maverick breaks the eye contact to read it.
You’re fucking joking.
His jaw drops.
‘Will you be my Valentine?’
Maverick won’t ever kill himself again.
“I know you probably weren’t expecting this, but being your friend is almost as good as flying with you. It would just be immensely better if you’d let me be your wingman on a.. date with me?” Holy SHIT.
Maverick’s never said yes faster.