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It’s nearing 3 am on Christmas Eve when a rapid knocking at the door pulls Tom away from his book. He frowns, glancing at the window. It’s snowing heavily, the roads covered in white powder, barely lit up with street lamps. It’s dangerous to be outside, and normally Tom’d worry a bit more, but he can’t muster up much emotions right now. It’ll pass, as it always does, but it takes time to heal a broken heart and Tom knows he’ll never be the same again.
It’s just his luck to get his heart broken on Christmas, but maybe his father was right and he is just not someone people love. Tom just needs to make peace with that.
The knocking turns to hitting and he finally gets up, an old injury to his hip flaring up playfully. Tom winces, grabbing an old ratty hoodie to pull over his pyjamas, and shuffles to the door.
“I’m coming, calm down!” There’s a chance it’s someone needing help, but there’s also a chance it’s someone dangerous. Tom’s house isn’t on base and, although close, strange things can happen, so he grabs his handgun from the closet on his way to the door. Finally, he braces himself and opens. “What-”
All words die in his throsat when Tom takes in the sight in front of him. It’s Maverick, hastily wrapped in a huge winter coat, hair messy, eyes wild.
“Tom!”
He grunts when a small body collides with his, Maverick’s arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders. It takes Tom a second to realise what’s happening, but he immediately returns the hug when things register. It doesn’t matter that this is the man who broke his heart the day before. Maverick is shaking apart in his arms, and Tom’ll always do everything to comfort and protect him.
“Come on, let’s get you inside.” Even with the coat, Maverick is cold and slightly damp, trembling and desperately clutching him close, making small keening sounds against his neck. “Shhh, Pete, I’ve got you, it’s okay.”
Maverick just shakes his head so Tom pushes the wet coat from his shoulders and manages to convince the man to take his shoes off, leaving him miserable and trying to climb into Tom’s ribcage. He has no idea what’s happening, but Pete is clearly distressed and Tom’d never turn him away. Instead of trying to pry, since it’s clear the other man is beyond words now, he grabs the backs of Mav’s thighs and hoists him into his arms. Pete squeals (which is an adorable sound now burned into Tom’s brain), but wraps his legs around Tom’s waist so that he can walk them into the kitchen and put the kettle on.
He keeps rubbing Mav’s back as the water boils, and then rests his ass against the counter to prepare a cup of tea, before bringing them and the tea to the living room. Tom drops down on his abandoned spot on the couch, tugs the blanket around Mav’s shoulders, and settles in to wait.
It takes Pete solid 20 minutes to cry himself out and calm down, and Tom’s heart breaks the whole time, this time for a different reason. It’s not Goose’s death anniversary so he has no idea what could’ve distressed the man so much. When rejecting Tom the day before, Pete seemed okay, if a bit miffed. This is a rapid 180, and Tom’s at a loss.
“Ready to tell me what’s wrong now?” Tom asks when it’s clear Mav’s calm now, face pressed against his neck. “Why did you come here?”
“Needed to see you,” Pete replies wetly, still not moving from his place. “Alive.”
The last word is almost whispered but Tom hears it anyway, and he stiffens. “What?”
“I- Fuck, Tom, I’m so sorry,” the other man says brokenly, finally looking straight at him. Those gorgeous green eyes are filled with tears, red and puffy, and there’s grief and guilt on his face, but most of all, there’s love. The same love Tom thought he saw sometimes, before Maverick broke his heart once he decided to confess. “I don’t- No, it’s- I’m fucking it all up, I’m sorry.”
It’s so unlike Pete, and Tom immediately wraps him up in his arms again, pressing the man against his chest. He might be sad and angry, but Pete is falling apart in his lap and he has no idea how to help.
“Shhh, calm down, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m alive,” he says, because that’s one thing he does know. Maybe a nightmare? “Just breathe and tell me what’s wrong. How can I help?”
Surprisingly, it’s enough to make Pete burst out crying again, great shuddering sobs that leave him gasping for air against Tom’s shoulder.
“You’re impossible, I- I fucking b-broke your heart, rejected you, even though… I lied and you, you still want to help me, and you’re so fucking good…” Pete rambles. “I love you so much.”
Tom almost doesn’t hear the words because of the crying, but once he does, he stiffens again. “Pete? What did you just say?” He’s not in the mood for games, not when his heart is still lying shattered at Pete’s feet.
The other man shudders and pulls away to grab Tom’s face in sweaty, trembling hands, forcing him to look at Pete. Maverick looks ruined but even like that, he’s gorgeous, and probably the love of Tom’s life.
“Listen to me, Tom Aleksander Kazansky,” Pete says slowly, visibly holding back sobs. “I’m a stupid coward and I fucked up, but I love you. It’s the truth. I love you.”
He stares up at the other man, feeling his weight in his lap, and the world slowly comes back online. Pete’s shaking, but so clear and sure, and then something clicks. Not everything, because this whole situation is so out of the left field Tom doesn’t know what to do, but he knows Pete Mitchell, he knows his insecurities, he knows what shadows nip at his heels. Tom softens, his arms shifting to wrap around Mav’s waist, pulling him closer, pressing their foreheads together.
Pete swallows heavily, and Tom allows himself a smile.
“Were you trying to protect me, Maverick? Or yourself?” he asks calmly.
“You. I don’t-” -matter.
Tom hears the words Pete isn’t saying, and he just shakes his head. “You broke both of our hearts, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know… I’m so sorry, Ice.” The familiar name makes him smile and he tugs Maverick against his chest, until they’re tangled together, one of Tom’s hands petting Mav’s hair.
“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “That was stupid as fuck, but you never claimed to be smart.”
Pete laughs through the tears, and some weight falls from Ice’s shoulders. He’s still walking half-blind, but at least something is being made clear. It’s so like Pete to ruin them before something more could happen, protecting them both and not seeing they’re already in too deep. Because with the confession, with the vision of Pete falling apart in his arms, Iceman knows that they both feel the same. Pete loves him, truly and deeply, and they can find their way back together.
“I love you,” Tom says quietly, an echo of his previous confession. Only this time Pete melts into him, a small smile emerging on his tear-stained face.
“I love you too.”
He just as to kiss him about it, both of them sinking into the moment. They find their rhythm together easily as they fly together, always on each other’s wing, always together. Pete is sweet and pliant in his arms, and Tom uses a hold on his hair to angle his head better, swallowing his small moan. It’s indecent, how good Pete feels on his lap, all warm weight and eager hands, and normally, Tom’d be walking them to the bedroom, but something is still hanging over them.
“Wait, baby, calm down,” he rasps, pulling away from the kiss. Pete chases his lips with a whine, so Tom kisses him again and again, before putting some distance between them. “Mav, you’re irresistible, but I need to know what happened. You were damn near hysterical.”
Pete winces, his hold on Tom tightening, but he forces the man to look at him. “Trust me, Pete.”
“You won’t believe me,” the other man says flatly. “I barely believe I even lived it.”
“Try me,” Ice challenges. “Whatever happened, it had an effect on you.”
“You ever read The Christmas Carol?” Pete asks randomly.
Tom blinks a few times. “The… the book? By Dickens?” he asks, confused.
“There’s this old guy, who’s an asshole and makes terrible choices, and he gets visited by 3 ghosts of Christmas. Past, present, future. And he becomes a better man at the end of it all, or something.”
He nods slowly, still confused.
“I experienced that,” Pete says, looking Tom straight in the eyes, continuing on before he can say anything. “I know it sounds stupid and I probably just had a bad dream, but Ice- It felt real. I looked real.”
For a second, Tom doesn’t know what to say. He’s a no-nonsense guy, rooted firmly in science, but… This clearly affected Pete. Besides, he’s not so old as to forget all of the stories his Ma told him, her traditions and folk tales, the magic their ancestors believed in. Who is Tom to deny this happened, when Pete fell apart in his arms because of it.
“What did you see?” he asks instead of arguing. Pete’s eyes widen. “Did I die?”
A look of utter heartbreak and grief briefly flashes over Pete’s face, and Tom squeezes his side soothingly. “You had cancer. It killed you slowly,” the other man says, voice hollow. “You- There was a woman, and you married her, and we just… We drifted apart.”
It sounds like hell. Not just cancer, but marrying someone else, making peace in being somewhere far in the orbit of Maverick, living for scraps. Tom can’t imagine it, and he shudders at the mere thought.
“Not ideal,” he finds himself quipping. It’s enough to make Maverick smile weakly, so Tom leans up to kiss the man, until he softens and melts against him, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. “But I’m alive, baby, with you in my lap. I have no plans to marry.”
“Really?”
Tom shrugs, deciding to put all of his cards on the table. “Well, it’s not like I can marry you legally, so marriage is off the table for now.”
He gets to witness Pete Mitchell blush widely, eyes wide and awed, mouth falling open in shock. Tom smiles at him, at peace with everything. No matter what Pete saw, whatever future could happen, he knows he’ll fight his damned to make sure it doesn’t happen. Even if they can’t marry, he plans to grow old with this man by his side.
“You’re terrible,” Mav mutters against his lips as they kiss, and Tom’s smile widens.
“You love me anyway.” It feels novel to say, and he wants to repeat it again and again. “We’ll make sure that future doesn’t happen.”
Tom doesn’t ask what he saw in the past and future. Pete is clearly still shaken and tender, and Tom can’t even imagine the emotional wringer he’s been put through. Besides, he has this amazing man in his lap now, and it’s Christmas. There are better things they can be doing.
They kiss slow and deep, tongues tangling, exploring each other’s mouths. Tom leans back against the couch and brings Pete with him, sighing in relief. The other man is warm and pliant, a wonderful weight on his thighs, and it’s like none of the heartbreak happened. Tom knows it’ll take a while for him to forget, for him to truly trust that Pete is here to stay, but the other man kisses like he can’t get enough of him, even as the trembling slowly goes away.
“I’ve got you,” Tom whispers against Pete’s neck, as if sharing a secret. “We’ll keep an eye on the cancer, and I won’t leave your side, I promise.”
“Stop smoking?”
“Done,” he replies immediately. “Pete, I want us to live long, happy, and healthy lives. I’m not a stupid 30-year-old anymore.”
Maverick’s smile is brighter than Christmas lights, and Tom feels a piece of himself heal. It won’t be easy, with keeping secrets and ensuring no one suspects them, but Maverick is worth it. He doesn’t know the details about the future Pete saw, but he knows he’ll do anything to avoid it. They deserve to be happy, and some poor woman deserves better than being married to a man who’ll always be in love with Pete Mitchell.
Tom knows himself - he doesn’t fall in love easily, and Maverick feels like the end. His last.
He can’t wait to find out.
“You’re going to marry me one day, Iceman?” Pete drawls, his lips puffy, both of them breathless as they lay tangled on the couch.
Tom laughs. “Why don’t you stick around and find out, Maverick?”
“Deal.”