Top Gun fic: The Talk
A Top Gun 'missing scene'. This is explicit NC-17 slash - and my first attempt at writing it - so bear that in mind if you decide to read it *grin*. The usual warnings - this is SLASH so if you don't know what that is, or are offended by it, then DO NOT read it.
Still here? Okay then...
Title: The Talk
Fandom: Top Gun
Author:
rospberry
Characters/Pairing: Iceman/Maverick
Rating: NC-17 for sex and language
Warnings: Explicit sexual situations ahead...
Summary: A missing scene set after Iceman gives Maverick his condolences in the locker room and leaves. Wolfman is about to get on the phone to let everyone know Maverick has just quit Top Gun... only Iceman isn't quite done.
Betad by the star that is
mayalaen.
*
Wolfman sagged back against the post.
He hadn’t expected Iceman to change Mav’s mind about leaving, but the lack of any sort of response from someone usually so volatile was beyond worrying.
Mav needed to talk to someone to get out the pain he was feeling before he self-destructed.
Wolfman rested his head back for a second and then straightened, taking two steps before pausing as he heard angry voices returning to the room.
He stayed where he was.
*
“What the fuck-” Maverick exclaimed as Iceman pushed him firmly back through the door of the locker room. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Stopping you making a huge mistake,” the blonde man responded firmly. “I was just going to let it go, but someone’s got to say something.”
“Spare me the rallying speech,” Maverick said and tried to push past the larger man, but Iceman effortlessly shoved him back.
“Get the hell out of my way,” Maverick snarled.
“No. You need to talk to someone about this.”
“It’s none of your business, Tom. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Like hell there isn’t. Do you really think Goose would have wanted you to quit?”
Tom was ready for the uncoordinated punch that Maverick threw; it was all anger and emotion and he ducked back from it easily, catching Maverick’s arm and twisting it, propelling him face first against the lockers.
Maverick’s body was trembling with rage and it took all of Tom’s strength to keep him pinned against the metal. “Calm down,” he said softly in the smaller man’s ear.
“Fuck you,” came the angry response, and Maverick tried to buck him off. Tom twisted his arm a little more, eliciting a hiss of pain. He pushed his other hand firmly against Maverick’s shoulder to keep him pinned.
“I’m only trying to help,” Tom said evenly, pressed so close he could feel the heavy breaths Maverick was taking, the tightness of the muscles bunched under his hand. He felt his own body starting to react to the closeness and his jaw clenched. Not now.
“Why the hell would I want you to help me?” Maverick said tightly, cheek pressed awkwardly against the locker door. “You’re the last person I’d want help from.”
Tom squeezed his eyes closed for a second, a tightness building in his chest that he chose not to think on too deeply. He let go of Maverick’s arm abruptly and backed up until he felt the wooden slatted stool hitting the back of his knees. “Fine. Fuck it. If you want to throw your life away then far be it for me to try and stop it. God forbid that anyone should give a shit about you.”
Maverick shook out his arm and turned around to stare at Tom surprised at the vehemence with which he’d spoken. The Iceman had finally lost his cool. “Why should you care what happens to me?”
“I don’t,” Tom snapped back. “Forget I said anything.” He started to turn and walk to the door. “Have a nice life.”
Maverick took a couple of steps and grabbed Tom’s arm, spinning him back around and pushing him roughly against the mirror.
“Thought you wanted to talk?” Maverick said, thrusting his face millimetres from Tom’s.
Tom opened his mouth to respond but was silenced as Maverick’s mouth covered his and his tongue pushed forcefully between his teeth, thrusting any words aside.
Tom was stunned into immobility; never in his wildest fantasies had he expected this. So he just stood and let Maverick kiss him without showing any signs of response, until slowly Maverick realised, and he stepped back eyeing Tom with a certain amount of fear.
“I’m really sorry, man. I thought that you wanted…” Maverick stuttered, “…I thought you were… I thought…”
“Did you just kiss me?” Tom interrupted.
Maverick stopped stuttering and he nodded. “I’m sorry. I got it wrong.”
Tom grinned a little. “No, you didn’t. I just didn’t think that you were interested in that way.”
“Hell, yeah,” Maverick exclaimed. “I just didn’t think you…”
Tom stepped forwards and placed a hand over his mouth, stilling the words. “I thought we were going to talk?” he said huskily and felt Maverick’s smile grow under his hand. Maverick grabbed hold of his shirt and pushed him back against the mirror, slapping the hand away.
They kissed each other hard, tongues battling, hands savagely pulling at clothing as they pressed against the glass. Tom felt the buttons on his shirt pinging off as Maverick ripped it open and tugged it down his arms. It was thrown unceremoniously onto the floor.
They broke apart only to pull their t-shirts off and then they slammed together again, hands now exploring bare torso, fingers trailing over taut muscle as they continued to wage war on each other’s mouths.
They twisted around, Tom shoving Maverick against the glass; kissing, touching, wanting. His hand travelled lower, and he hastily unbuttoned Maverick’s jeans, dipping inside his shorts to catch hold of his erection, smoothing pre-come along its length as he started to stroke.
Maverick gasped and his head arched back as Tom’s knowing hand squeezed and caressed, pulling him towards climax, whilst his mouth traced a pattern along his jaw line.
“Tom... stop,” Maverick bit out, grabbing at Tom’s sweetly torturous hand. “You need-”
“I need you.” Tom groaned against his neck. “Please, just let me do this for you.”
He smothered any more of Maverick’s objections with his mouth as his hand kept stroking, feeling Maverick writhe and moan beneath him, fingers now futilely grasping at Tom’s arms.
And then Maverick was coming, screaming into his mouth, and Tom was pushed over the edge, his own body reacting to the man beneath him.
They stood entwined with each other until reality returned and reluctantly Tom withdrew his hand and stepped away.
“You came?” Maverick said astounded as he looked at the stain seeping through Tom’s trousers.
Tom’s cheeks reddened and he muttered, “Yeah,” as he turned away. He felt a hand touch his arm gently and slide upwards to cup his cheek as Maverick pulled him back.
“That’s so fucking sexy,” Maverick said against his lips and kissed him again, a gentle caress with none of the urgency of before.
Tom smiled as they broke apart and Maverick smiled back, the huge grin that Tom had missed so much. “So, I’m glad we talked,” he said.
Tom nodded. “So am I.”
Maverick chuffed out a small laugh, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I need a shower.”
Looking down at himself, Tom grinned. “I guess that’s a good idea.”
“And we haven’t really finished our discussion have we?”
*
Wolfman ducked quickly behind the lockers as the two men passed him, almost tumbling in his haste to hide.
His heart was thudding and he wiped a hand across his sweat-soaked brow.
Christ, he had to control himself; he still had to make a call about Maverick. But maybe it wasn’t quite as urgent as he thought.
He looked down at the bulge in his pants.
No, he decided. The call could wait another five minutes.
Still here? Okay then...
Title: The Talk
Fandom: Top Gun
Author:
rospberry
Characters/Pairing: Iceman/Maverick
Rating: NC-17 for sex and language
Warnings: Explicit sexual situations ahead...
Summary: A missing scene set after Iceman gives Maverick his condolences in the locker room and leaves. Wolfman is about to get on the phone to let everyone know Maverick has just quit Top Gun... only Iceman isn't quite done.
Betad by the star that is
mayalaen.
*
Wolfman sagged back against the post.
He hadn’t expected Iceman to change Mav’s mind about leaving, but the lack of any sort of response from someone usually so volatile was beyond worrying.
Mav needed to talk to someone to get out the pain he was feeling before he self-destructed.
Wolfman rested his head back for a second and then straightened, taking two steps before pausing as he heard angry voices returning to the room.
He stayed where he was.
*
“What the fuck-” Maverick exclaimed as Iceman pushed him firmly back through the door of the locker room. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Stopping you making a huge mistake,” the blonde man responded firmly. “I was just going to let it go, but someone’s got to say something.”
“Spare me the rallying speech,” Maverick said and tried to push past the larger man, but Iceman effortlessly shoved him back.
“Get the hell out of my way,” Maverick snarled.
“No. You need to talk to someone about this.”
“It’s none of your business, Tom. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Like hell there isn’t. Do you really think Goose would have wanted you to quit?”
Tom was ready for the uncoordinated punch that Maverick threw; it was all anger and emotion and he ducked back from it easily, catching Maverick’s arm and twisting it, propelling him face first against the lockers.
Maverick’s body was trembling with rage and it took all of Tom’s strength to keep him pinned against the metal. “Calm down,” he said softly in the smaller man’s ear.
“Fuck you,” came the angry response, and Maverick tried to buck him off. Tom twisted his arm a little more, eliciting a hiss of pain. He pushed his other hand firmly against Maverick’s shoulder to keep him pinned.
“I’m only trying to help,” Tom said evenly, pressed so close he could feel the heavy breaths Maverick was taking, the tightness of the muscles bunched under his hand. He felt his own body starting to react to the closeness and his jaw clenched. Not now.
“Why the hell would I want you to help me?” Maverick said tightly, cheek pressed awkwardly against the locker door. “You’re the last person I’d want help from.”
Tom squeezed his eyes closed for a second, a tightness building in his chest that he chose not to think on too deeply. He let go of Maverick’s arm abruptly and backed up until he felt the wooden slatted stool hitting the back of his knees. “Fine. Fuck it. If you want to throw your life away then far be it for me to try and stop it. God forbid that anyone should give a shit about you.”
Maverick shook out his arm and turned around to stare at Tom surprised at the vehemence with which he’d spoken. The Iceman had finally lost his cool. “Why should you care what happens to me?”
“I don’t,” Tom snapped back. “Forget I said anything.” He started to turn and walk to the door. “Have a nice life.”
Maverick took a couple of steps and grabbed Tom’s arm, spinning him back around and pushing him roughly against the mirror.
“Thought you wanted to talk?” Maverick said, thrusting his face millimetres from Tom’s.
Tom opened his mouth to respond but was silenced as Maverick’s mouth covered his and his tongue pushed forcefully between his teeth, thrusting any words aside.
Tom was stunned into immobility; never in his wildest fantasies had he expected this. So he just stood and let Maverick kiss him without showing any signs of response, until slowly Maverick realised, and he stepped back eyeing Tom with a certain amount of fear.
“I’m really sorry, man. I thought that you wanted…” Maverick stuttered, “…I thought you were… I thought…”
“Did you just kiss me?” Tom interrupted.
Maverick stopped stuttering and he nodded. “I’m sorry. I got it wrong.”
Tom grinned a little. “No, you didn’t. I just didn’t think that you were interested in that way.”
“Hell, yeah,” Maverick exclaimed. “I just didn’t think you…”
Tom stepped forwards and placed a hand over his mouth, stilling the words. “I thought we were going to talk?” he said huskily and felt Maverick’s smile grow under his hand. Maverick grabbed hold of his shirt and pushed him back against the mirror, slapping the hand away.
They kissed each other hard, tongues battling, hands savagely pulling at clothing as they pressed against the glass. Tom felt the buttons on his shirt pinging off as Maverick ripped it open and tugged it down his arms. It was thrown unceremoniously onto the floor.
They broke apart only to pull their t-shirts off and then they slammed together again, hands now exploring bare torso, fingers trailing over taut muscle as they continued to wage war on each other’s mouths.
They twisted around, Tom shoving Maverick against the glass; kissing, touching, wanting. His hand travelled lower, and he hastily unbuttoned Maverick’s jeans, dipping inside his shorts to catch hold of his erection, smoothing pre-come along its length as he started to stroke.
Maverick gasped and his head arched back as Tom’s knowing hand squeezed and caressed, pulling him towards climax, whilst his mouth traced a pattern along his jaw line.
“Tom... stop,” Maverick bit out, grabbing at Tom’s sweetly torturous hand. “You need-”
“I need you.” Tom groaned against his neck. “Please, just let me do this for you.”
He smothered any more of Maverick’s objections with his mouth as his hand kept stroking, feeling Maverick writhe and moan beneath him, fingers now futilely grasping at Tom’s arms.
And then Maverick was coming, screaming into his mouth, and Tom was pushed over the edge, his own body reacting to the man beneath him.
They stood entwined with each other until reality returned and reluctantly Tom withdrew his hand and stepped away.
“You came?” Maverick said astounded as he looked at the stain seeping through Tom’s trousers.
Tom’s cheeks reddened and he muttered, “Yeah,” as he turned away. He felt a hand touch his arm gently and slide upwards to cup his cheek as Maverick pulled him back.
“That’s so fucking sexy,” Maverick said against his lips and kissed him again, a gentle caress with none of the urgency of before.
Tom smiled as they broke apart and Maverick smiled back, the huge grin that Tom had missed so much. “So, I’m glad we talked,” he said.
Tom nodded. “So am I.”
Maverick chuffed out a small laugh, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think I need a shower.”
Looking down at himself, Tom grinned. “I guess that’s a good idea.”
“And we haven’t really finished our discussion have we?”
*
Wolfman ducked quickly behind the lockers as the two men passed him, almost tumbling in his haste to hide.
His heart was thudding and he wiped a hand across his sweat-soaked brow.
Christ, he had to control himself; he still had to make a call about Maverick. But maybe it wasn’t quite as urgent as he thought.
He looked down at the bulge in his pants.
No, he decided. The call could wait another five minutes.