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Mav has been waiting for this day for weeks. Ever since he started teaching regular TOPGUN cohorts again, he's been planning it. He never forgot how they'd all reacted that one day in their own year, when Jester had been circling them in the sky, and then he'd heard, over the radio, 'Holy shit, it's Viper!'
The adrenaline rush had been like nothing else, and though he'd lost that hop, he'd learned an important lesson, too.
It occurred to him one night, while he was having dinner with Ice on the back patio, that he could do that too. That he could get Ice to show up as his wingman and scare this everliving shit out of the entire class. And because Ice is the best (and because he knows Ice, knows of his penchant for mischief), it takes barely any effort to convince him.
He gets Ice to introduce him on the first day of the next class coming in, so that they'll recognize his voice in a few weeks. Or at least have a chance to, anyway.
It gets increasingly difficult to hide his plan as the days get closer, and the students have figured out that something is up, but they don't know what. No amount of anxiety on their part will have them figure out what he's going to pull.
None of this class have managed to get a kill on him yet, so he starts the morning with a little spiel that boils down to 'since you all can't kill me in pairs, we're going to send all of you up and see if you can perform as a squad.' The duo that kills him will get the lion's share of the points, but anyone who helped box him in would get some too. That should be incentive enough for them to actually try to work together.
Ice is waiting for him in the instructors' locker room, and Mav is grinning from ear to ear when he spots him. His husband is gorgeous in anything (and nothing), but fuck does it really get to him to see Ice in a flightsuit again. He can't help the low whistle as he closes the door behind him.
Ice rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but doesn't actually reprimand him for it. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," he teases.
"Oh, I will," Maverick assures him. "After we wipe the floor with all these kids."
"Is this even fair? They don't stand a chance," Ice says, amused, leaning against a locker as he watches Mav undress.
"No they don't," Maverick agrees. "But they think they do," he adds, grinning sharper. "It'll be a good lesson."
"This will only work once, you know," Ice points out. "The class will talk."
"Good, let them," Mav decides. "Just because they know it's possible doesn't mean they'll know when we're gonna do it. Besides, no one told us about Viper," he adds.
"That was thirty years ago," Ice reminds him. "Before cell phones," he says drily.
Maverick shrugs, conceding, as he pulls his flightsuit on. "That's a problem for future me. For now, I'm gonna enjoy getting to fly with my wingman again," he says, with what has to be an absolutely dopey grin as he looks to his husband.
He's sure he's probably looking particularly lovesick, given how Ice's own expression softens, his gaze warm and fond. "So am I," he assures softly. "You ready?"
"Yup, let's go."
—
Mav takes off first, and circles lazily as he waits for the rest of the class to get in the air. Ice will go last, once everyone else is gone and there's no risk of being spotted before they want to make his entrance.
It occurs to Mav that he maybe hadn't mentioned the plan to Cyclone.
Oops.
That's going to be a fun debrief. He's already grinning at the thought. It's brought him great joy to be Cyclone's personal menace here at TOPGUN. Ice inflicted him upon the man as punishment for trying to take advantage of Ice's illness to ground Mav permanently.
"You're going down today, Admiral," Sprinkles says over the radio, pulling his attention back to the fact that the cohort is all airborne now.
"Is that so?" Maverick asks, smirking. "I like the arrogance." Sprinkles was the frontrunner for this class, and if anyone might get tone on him, it would be him.
"You'll see, Sir," Wiggles adds, one of Sprinkles' buddies from the first couple of weeks of the course.
"I'm sure I will," Maverick says, buying time until he hears Ice on their line, taking off and curving behind a nearby hill. Mav peels off to go join him, turning away from the pack of F-18s up in the air. As soon as he pulls up on Ice's wing, he meets his gaze through the canopy, giddy with excitement.
Ice waits until he's in position - Mav's following him, covering his lead - to flip to the main channel. "Good morning aviators," he says, calm and even, but Mav can hear the smile in his voice, "skies are clear and it's a breezy 86 degrees out."
He doesn't even get to start the next sentence before the radio crackles to life.
"Holy fuck, is that the COMPACFLT?!" that's Arrow, one of the sharper pilots. If anyone's going to steal Sprinkles' lead, it'll be her.
Maverick hopes that wherever Viper is, he's proud. He'd have loved to know that he's inspired chaos like this to help make the students better, he thinks.
"Still feeling good about your odds?" Maverick taunts. He can't remember the last time he felt like this, overwhelmed with joy. Probably the last time Ice flew with him, or maybe their wedding.
"We'll take you both down, Sir," Sprinkles answers, with more bravado than he probably actually feels.
"Show me what you've got," Ice challenges, and pulls up, hard. Mav is right there with him, like it's only been days since they last flew together, not years.
"We'll go easy and stay on the main channel for you," Maverick adds. "Fight's on!"
Of course, that's a little misleading. Ice's calls consist of 'Mav', to which Mav will just reply 'yep,' and then they're moving in sync. He can tell by the tone of his voice and the way he breathes what he's trying to tell Mav. It doesn't matter how many years it's been, Mav knows his husband in the cockpit just as well as he did back then.
The aviators split off into their pairs, a few grouping up into packs of four, and Ice picks his target with no hesitation. He's zeroed in on Pitbull, and his wingman, Aircon. It's a good choice - Pitbull was one of the idiots with an ego that lacked the skills to match, and it was going to get him in trouble if he wasn't knocked down a few pegs sooner than later.
Sprinkles plays it smart, staying out of the way and waiting to take advantage of Pitbulls' struggle to evade them once he realizes Ice is hunting him. Not particularly good teamwork, but it was one of those things about TOPGUN, where your allies were also your adversaries, and you were meant to put yourself first if you wanted to win.
Maverick sees it, notes it, and sets it aside as he keeps on Ice's wing, aware of the planes around them without ever wavering from Ice's side.
Not until he says, "Mav-" and then Mav's breaking hard right with a wordless grunt of assent, herding Aircon away and leaving Pitbull alone and vulnerable.
The first kill tone rings out seconds later, and then Mav takes out Aircon a heartbeat after.
"Holy shit," Arrow breathes, and Maverick is flooded with smug pride at his husband's performance.
"Better work together if you want to stand a chance," Maverick warns, now that they've made an example of Pitbull. The rest of the pairs form up in squads of four, and that's all the breathing room Ice and Mav give them.
They push them harder, and start to systematically take out every aviator and their wingman. Their calls stay just as vague and useless to the eavesdroppers, giving them no warning beyond the fact that something is happening. Which is worthless intel, since something is happening constantly.
The closest anyone gets to getting tone on them is Arrow, angling behind Ice as Mav takes out one of the two-seaters. Ice is still chasing his target down, doesn't even contemplate breaking off to evade Arrow.
He doesn't have to. Mav gets tone, rips his jet back, and cuts in front of Arrow, peeling her aim off of his husband and drawing himself into her sights.
"Shit-!" she curses, turning after him instead, taking the bait.
It's bought Ice enough time to finish his kill, and then he effectively vanishes, diving down and pulling off Arrow's radar.
Maverick's job is to keep evading her until Ice can line up a shot, and he does just that, swerving hard toward the ocean, aiming for an angle that'll blind her with the sun glinting off the waves below.
"Come on, come on," Arrow growls, and he can feel the beeping of her sights flicking over him as he dodges, unable to lock on.
"Maverick," Ice finally says, and Maverick doesn't even reply, ripping his stick back and pulling up hard. Arrow follows without hesitation, but she's lost enough speed chasing him that before she can even contemplate trying to lock onto him again, Ice gets tone.
Her cursing cuts out a moment later, likely realizing that she probably doesn't want the COMPACFLT hearing her cuss him out.
Maverick laughs at the thought, too entertained to try and restrain the emotion, the outburst.
Before he can celebrate, he spots something out of the corner of his eye, and says "Ice-" before he's fully caught sight of the emblem indicating that it's Sprinkles.
"Mm," Ice answers, and that's all Mav needs to know he's seen it too, is already maneuvering to either get him in his sights, or bait him to line up a shot for Mav.
It ends up being the latter, and Maverick twists hard to pull his nose around to get behind them both.
Sprinkles is the last aviator left standing, which means there's no backup coming to save him. His end is inevitable, and Maverick's almost sad when he gets tone, disappointed that it's over.
He doesn't have long to stew in the feeling as Sprinkles curses, turning back for base, because Ice is suddenly there, pulling up to his wing again. He's flipped to their private channel, and his voice is full of endless warmth as he says, "Was that everything you hoped it'd be, love?"
"Fuck, you know it was, angel," Maverick replies, grinning over at him. He doesn't want to land, doesn't want this moment to end. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have a wingman who knew him better than he knew himself, who knew how he'd fly like he was an extension of Ice.
He can all but see Ice rolling his eyes at him, amused and fond. "Think they learned anything?"
"If they didn't, you can always come back and teach them again," Maverick replies, laughing.
This, this is where they belong, no matter how many years it's been. On each others' wings, soaring high together, endless horizons ahead and tailwinds behind.
