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There's a very very hot and beautiful and gorgeous and everything-in-between-and-beyond-and-no-he-wasn't-exaggerating-he-is-hot-as-fuck guy sitting by his bedside, grasping one of his hands in between his own. If Maverick looked really closely, which he obviously was, he could map out where all those bulging veins laid right below fair skin. And why was he holding his hand? That's a bit gay...
His hair was awfully pretty too. Maybe one day Maverick could ask him to help dye his hair that sort of blonde. Or even right after he popped out of this goddamned hospital.
Oh, right. That's where they were right now. With him sitting up on the mattress and a tray of...oddly organic-shaped things on his lap? He swore one of them looked like Goose's head and wasn't that a bit of a morbid thought?
And what a beauty his eyes were. Piercing blue staring at him almost fondly, sharp edges softening with every swipe of a thumb against his knuckles.
Anyway, Maverick returned his attention back to the stunning man sitting beside him and he could see his kissable lips moving yet no sound coming out. How, funny. Was he deaf or something?
"You're fuckin' pretty, dude." He blurted out semi-consciously, his head lolling to one side in awe, "Let's go out after this, yeah? I'll pay."
There was silence, but was there ever not, for a short period of time before the man threw his head back with an inaudible laugh. Well, at least inaudible to his ears. With how that slender throat was moving, he guessed that the other laughed so loud that the nurses from the next block over probably heard him.
It was then that his hearing returned and he managed to catch the last sounds of the man's laughter teetering off. Fucking hell, even his laughter sounded like heaven. Whoever this man would be married to or was already married to must be damn lucky cause he was such a catch, what the fuck--
Now, in hindsight, he shouldn't have asked him out on a date, or else he could get a wife or a husband blowing up his messages and Goose would never let him live it down but that was a problem for future Maverick to solve when he gets there.
"Why does my food look like Goose?" He asked after the man stopped laughing entirely, and his voice came out all wrong and he ended up sounding like a teenager mid-puberty.
"Just eat it, Mav. It's not that deep." The low timbre of his voice nearly knocked Maverick out of his very comfortable bed and onto the hard tile cause' why was his voice so hot too?!
"I ain't eating Goose's head, that's cannibalism." He retorted back. Even if he was a bit off right now, that won't stop him from losing his fights.
"And I'm telling you, that's not Goose's head. Now eat up, or else the nurse is gonna come back in here and knock some sense into that head. You need good nutrients for a fast recovery and healthy vegetables is the way to go."
"But Goose is my best bud, how could I eat his head?"
"Eat it, Pete."
It was at this moment that Maverick zeroed in on one of the orange-coloured blobs that sat on his plate and realised it was carrots. Disgusting carrots.
"I don't like carrots."
"Damn it, I thought I would finally get some carrots in him with those good ol' painkillers. Guess I'll never see the day it would happen." If the other guy thought he couldn't hear him, he was in for some rude awakening. Just because he was hot, doesn't mean he gets the hot privileges. Only Maverick gets that.
"The fuck you mean? You ain't getting no carrots in me. I'm too pretty for that."
"Mav, there's no connection between your handsomeness and eating carrots."
"There so is. And you shouldn't be arguing with me, my head's not on right."
He puffed up his chest, knowing he won the argument, though it never really was an argument in the first place.
The man at his bedside held up his hands in a form of mock surrender, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. You're handsome in my eyes always, Mav."
Maverick lit up at that, "Does that mean you'll go out with me?"
The guy eyed him before cracking a small smile and nodding, "Why not?"
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"Fucking hell!" Maverick dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.
The two of them sat on their decorated couch, the said man having come off of painkillers a while ago and discharged from the hospital a few minutes after that. Ice's muscled arm was slung over his shoulder, tucking him into his side.
"In my opinion, I found it very cute." Ice chimed in unhelpfully.
"Of course you found it cute. Goose'll never let me live this shit down." Maverick scowled at him, but leaned into his side begrudgingly.
Ice just hummed thoughtfully, the arm slung around his broad shoulders slipping down to his waist, gripping it with a light hold.
"Just so you know, you thought your food looked like a bunch of Goose's heads."
"Ice!"
-fin-