FIC: Getting Naked (Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, R)
TITLE: Getting Naked
RATING: R
FANDOMS: Top Gun
PAIRINGS: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
SUMMARY: Maverick has a little "truth or strip" game in mind for him and Iceman. At least one of them should have known they were too competitive to play nice.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Written for slashthedrabble prompt #528: manipulate.
They were on Ice's couch after dinner. Ice seemed content to stay there, lazing together in front of the television, but Maverick had too much energy. He jumped to his feet; Ice watched him coolly, like nothing Maverick did surprised him.
"Let's do something," Maverick said.
"Such as?"
"I dunno. You wanna play a game?"
Ice smirked. "I'm an adult, Mitchell. I don't have a copy of Candyland hanging around."
"No," Maverick said. "Not like that."
"Like what, then?"
"I know. I have a game. I call it Truth or Consequences."
Ice's brow rose slightly. "I didn't know you knew the meaning of the word consequences."
"It's like truth or dare," Maverick continued, suppressing the urge to slap him, "except if you don't tell the truth, you lose an item of clothing."
"You think I'm going to put on a little strip tease for you, Maverick?"
"If you don't want to, just tell the truth. Unless… you know, unless you're scared."
Ice's eyes narrowed. Maverick grinned. Gotcha, you brat.
Ice turned the television off. He stood up, came toe to toe with Maverick. He smiled a cold, humorless smile, the way a snake might smile.
"I'm game," he said.
Ice was looking him right in the eye, which was unnerving as hell, and it took Maverick a moment to come up with a suitable question.
"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"
"Sixteen," Ice answered silkily. "And you, Maverick?"
"Seventeen. During sex, which do you like better: being on the top, or being on the bottom?"
"It depends on who I'm with."
"What about when you're with me?"
Ice shook his head. "It's my turn. Did you imagine me fucking you before we got together?"
Maverick blushed. Shit. He took his shirt off, trying to pretend he couldn't hear Ice chuckling.
"Did you ever fuck Slider?"
"No," Ice said. "Do you think about me when you masturbate?"
Maverick took off his undershirt. "What's the weirdest shit you've ever done in bed?"
"That's subjective."
"That's evasive. Take something off."
Ice pulled his t-shirt off, leaving him naked above the waist except for his dog tags, which fit themselves too perfectly in the divot between his pectoral muscles. Maverick had an unbidden flashback of running his tongue down that same valley, and then started thinking of Jester in a bikini to combat the effects.
"Have you ever had sex with another serviceman?" he asked after he'd collected himself as best he could. "Aside from me."
"Yes. Is that something you like to think about?"
Maverick took off his belt. "Who taught you to give head like that?"
"No one, really; I kind of learned on the job. Do you ever think about me when you're trying to fall asleep?"
Maverick shucked off his jeans. Shit. This was not going as planned. Time to get mean.
"Have you ever been in love?"
Ice clenched his jaw. Slowly, he worked open the front of his jeans, and then, eyes still on Maverick, he rolled his hips like a belly dancer, urging his jeans down his thighs without using his hands. Maverick's mouth went dry.
"What was his name?" he asked breathlessly.
"It's my turn," Ice said, stepping out of his jeans, now pooled on the floor around his ankles. They were both naked except for their underwear now. The stakes were high. "Did you imagine me naked before you saw me in the showers?"
Maverick flushed. He didn't want to answer, but he wanted to win.
"Yes," he said. "Have you ever had any kind of sex with a superior officer?"
"Yes. Who's a better lay, me or Blackwood?"
"You. What kind of sex, with the ranking officer?"
"Just oral. Am I the best sex of your life?"
Maverick gritted his teeth. "Yes." He looked at Ice. He was looking combative and smug, and Maverick knew he'd do this all night. He had to go for the throat. "Are you in love with me?"
A little color came to Ice's cheeks. "You already asked that."
"No, I asked if you'd ever been in love. Now I'm asking if you're in love with me. It's a different question."
Ice's blush darkened. He chewed his lip. Clenched and unclenched his fists.
And then he took his underwear off.
Ice was standing there naked and bested, and Maverick should have been on top of the world, but he wasn't. He felt bad. He'd gone too far. He realized, with a sudden, terrible clarity, that it hurt him to hurt Ice.
And then there was the answer Ice had given him by refusing to answer, and everything that meant.
Maverick closed the distance between them. He took Ice's face in both his hands, gently.
"You love me?"
Ice averted his eyes. "I didn't say that."
"I know," Maverick said. "I know you didn't. I was just thinking, though, that maybe I'd like it if you did."
Ice looked at him. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"When you're ready," Maverick said. "In the meantime, I think we should go down the hall and celebrate my victory."
Ice rolled his eyes, but he allowed Maverick to drag him down the hall to the bedroom. Maverick planned to spend the rest of the evening showing Ice how he felt about him. He wanted him to know.
He just didn't want to say it.