Work Text:
Flying Black Ops wasn't what Pete was expecting out of his career in the Navy when he was younger, but it fit well in his adulthood. It was hard and possibly the most taxing thing he had ever done, but it came with some perks. It meant he wasn’t as likely to go on outright deployments, leading to more and more time with Carole and Bradley during his off time. The missions were more dangerous, but he could handle that. He was built to handle that. They didn’t make him flustered or nervous, just giving him a quiet energy that thrummed under his skin. He enjoyed it.
That didn’t mean that sometimes they weren’t fucking weird.
Such as a tankard plane exploding an extremely fine powder all over his plane.
“We’ve tested the substance,” The base doctor who was in charge of his post flight check explained. “It does not appear to be poisonous or have any long term effects. As far as we can tell, it is an organically derived pollen-like substance designed to heighten your hormone levels. It’s unlikely but you might experience some heightened senses, a want for more physical touch, potentially some level of baseline arousal. You only need to worry if it begins to become painful or you become some level of unresponsive. Does that all make sense?”
Pete blinked. “Arousal?”
The doctor shrugged. “It’s possible. Like I said, we tested to eliminate any compounds that would be outright dangerous, but beyond that we aren’t entirely sure of the effects. If you do experience unwanted or misplaced arousal, your best option is to attempt to relieve it manually.”
Pete blinked. “You want me to jerk off?”
The doctor smiled. “Whatever you want to call it. We know that you are not in any danger, so if you would like to go home and deal with it there, you can, as long as you pick up the phone when a nurse calls you every few hours to give an update. Your other option is spending the night here so we can monitor. Your choice.”
“I want to go home,” Pete answered easily. Hospitals had always skeeved him out and jerking off in a hospital was on the bottom of his bucket list.
The doctor nodded. “Alright, I’ll have a nurse come by and prep you for discharge. Take it easy.” and with that, he was gone.
Pete’s discharge was quick and easy and soon he was outside the hospital, his deployment duffle thrown over one shoulder and jet lag making the San Diego sun burn. His mission wasn’t far, all things considered but he still felt hazy and a little disoriented and absolutely unclear on how the hell he was going to get himself home.
Luckily for him, fate manifested in the form of a powder blue Mustang and frosted blond tips. Iceman leaned halfway out the car window and pushed up his aviators. “You need a ride, Maverick?”
The way Ice said his name, that little emphasis on the end, made a shiver race up Pete’s spine. It always did, like his body was recognizing this as a battle, a little power struggle just for them. Even as the hostility between them thawed, the little pieces stayed. Between deployments together and shared berths, they had become friends, maybe even the closest friend Pete had had since Goose, but the tension was still there. Long gazes and brief, but burning touches. They haunted Pete when he let them, something complicated swirling in his gut.
Pete sighed and easily threw his duffle into the back of Ice’s Mustang before folding himself into the front seat. “How’d you know I’d be here?”
Ice gave him an unimpressed look. “They called me. I’m your emergency contact.”
“Carole’s my emergency contact,” Pete corrected.
“I’m second on the list,” Ice countered as he threw the car into gear and navigated them out of the parking lot. “She’s out of town so here I am.”
Pete let his head fall back against the seat with a quiet thump. “Shit.”
“You forgot they were going to her sister’s, didn’t you?”
“Shut up,” Pete muttered. “I don’t have my keys.”
Pete didn’t need to look at Ice to see his eyeroll. “You can bunk at my place. Slider drove up to the Bay to see his girlfriend, you can sleep in his room.”
That made Pete wrinkle his nose. “Gross, when was the last time he changed his sheets.”
“I changed them right after they called me,” Ice said. “Figured you’d need a place to crash.”
Pete ignored the way that made his stomach clenched. Ice was always like that, prepared beyond a shadow of a doubt like the little boy scout he must’ve been as a kid. “Thanks,”
Ice shot him a smile. “No problem. Everything good on your mission?”
“It was good,” Pete said carefully. He always had to be careful talking about Black-Ops, layers of classification even he didn’t understand, making the facts he could share turn into a weird haze. “The other guys shot some dust bomb thing at us and it got through my mask.”
That made Ice frown, face going tight. “You alright?”
Pete shrugged. “Should be. They tested it to see if it was harmful and it doesn't seem like it. I have to call a nurse every few hours so they can track if I have any weird side effects but I’m not about to die or anything.”
“Well, there goes my evening plans,”
Pete laughed, that warm bubbly feeling returning. It always ended up happening when Ice was around. He knew what it meant, he did, but every time Pete let himself think about it, let himself hope, he hit a brick wall.
Pete knew he had a tendency to be reckless with himself. He always drove just a little too fast, a little too wild and he was the same in the air. He did things without thinking, without considering all the options because he knew that whatever happened, he could get himself out of it. His issue always emerged when other people were involved. He could be reckless with himself, but not with other people. They always either left or died. He had learned his lesson.
Ice was different though. Despite it all, he was there. Picking him up at the airport, yelling at him in the locker room at TopGun, sitting with him in the bowels of a carrier. He didn’t leave or die. He just…stayed.
Pete couldn’t find the reason. He didn’t understand it.
Sometimes he couldn’t help himself. He would just watch Ice, taking in the way he navigated the world and wondered. Wondered if Ice was watching him the same way, just better at hiding it. If he knew, Pete would go for it. If he had even an inkling that Ice wanted him the same way Pete wanted Ice, he would do it. He would kiss Ice silly under the stars for as long as the other man would let him.He just couldn’t find the proof he needed to go after what he wanted.
“Mav, you good?”
Pete shook his head and brought himself back to the present. Ice was looking at him out of the corner of his eye, an eyebrow raised.
Pete leaned back against the leather. He closed his eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a long mission.”
“You were gone for a week.”
Pete reached out to smack his arm. “Well it felt like for fucking ever, alright?”
“Whatever you say, Maverick,” Ice agreed easily with a roll of his eyes. “Did the doctor mention any specific side effects you’re supposed to be watching out for?”
Pete sank lower in his seat. Ice had that look in his eyes that reminded Pete of their early days--like a dog with a bone. There wasn’t any escaping or trying to buff his way through the conversation. He gave up before the thought to try even registered. “He said it might put my senses out of wack, make everything more intense. Maybe some hormone fluctuations to go with it. I might apparently get hard and have to deal with it.”
Ice nodded like this was a completely normal conversation to have with a Navy buddy. “So what, you might have to jerk off more?”
Pete shrugged miserably. “I guess.”
Ice shook his head. “I’m just happy the walls in my place are thick. Do whatever you need to do, Mav. Just don’t do it on my couch.”
Pete couldn’t help but snort. “Will do, Iceman. They said it was a low chance anyways. It probably won’t even come up.”
“Good,” Ice nodded once, firm and crisp and Pete tried not to watch how it made the tendons in his neck stand out. “Chip, Sunny, Wolf and Wood are all in town right now, so they were planning on coming over tonight. That alright with you?”
Pete kicked his feet up on the dash, forcing his bravado to cover up the fact that he didn’t really want to see that many people. “It’s your house, Iceman. You know I’m always up for a party.”
Ice grinned at him, sharp and shark-like.
Pete breathed deep. Likely no adverse side effects from the pollen and a good party with his friends. What could go wrong?
*
It started with an itch at the base of Pete’s spine. A small, unimportant urge to watch Ice out of the corner of his eye. To trace the way the man moved around his home, look at how he interacted with the others. At first it didn’t even register as something strange. Pete knew himself well. He always watched Ice.
As the evening wore on, it grew. Pete wanted to be close to him, wanted to touch. He fought against the urge to slam into every conversation Ice was in, to throw himself at the other man in every quiet moment. Everything was heightened and more than anything, it was building.
Tom’s voice from across the room echoed and Pete’s dick twitched so hard he spilled vodka down the front of his shirt.
“Shit!” He swore, setting his cup to the side and grabbing a paper towel to try and blot some of the booze up. It did nothing but cover his shirt in little tiny paper pieces. Pete groaned.
“Nice going Mav,” Ice appeared in front of him, his face fixed in a smirk so blinding that Pete’s knees almost buckled. It took everything in him not to fall to Iceman’s feet in front of everyone and beg.
“You can borrow one of my shirts,” Ice continued, completely ignoring Pete, either out of obliviousness (what Pete hoped) or pity (what Pete suspected). “Go wash up, man.”
Pete nodded dutifully and went to the bathroom, desperately trying to make it seem like he wasn’t running away.
The man that greeted Pete in the mirror was disheveled, hair sticking up from all the times he had ran his hands through it. He was flushed a deep red from his ears to his throat. The most damning of it all was his cock, hard and weeping just slightly through the fabric of his boxers. He could feel the friction of wet fabric every time he shifted.
He took a deep breath, his fingers curled around the edge of the sink. Everything was swimming, the tiles and the deep scent of Ice. It was everywhere, from the detergent on the towels to the half used bar of soap by the sink. Everything was notched up to 11, like every sense had intensified itself in under an hour--
“You will most likely experience some heightened senses, a want for more physical touch, potentially some level of baseline arousal.”
It took everything in Pete not to smash his forehead against the porcelain.
He knew what he had to do.
Slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, he ground the palm of his hand against the hardness in his jeans. He gasped, high and reedy in the back of his throat before ripping his hand away at the sound of fabric hitting the floor.
Pete’s head shot up, locking his eyes on Ice, standing right in front of him, the shirt he had been bringing Pete in a pile at his feet. Ice’s hand was clasped tight on the bathroom door knob.
Everything froze, their gazes locked on one another. Pete was standing on the edge, and praying that this time, maybe it would go exactly how he wanted it to. Even if the circumstances were not what Pete was expecting, he knew what he wanted.
He wanted Ice.
After a long moment, Ice stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Maverick,” Ice said, his voice low. His eyes were burning in the dim light of the bathroom.
Pete’s breath came in panting bursts. He felt feverish and so hard. His hand twitched, the urge to touch himself almost overwhelming as Ice watched him.
Ice stepped forward, crowding against Pete but not quite touching. It was so warm in the room. Ice licked his lips slowly. “Show me.”
The world stuttered, narrowing in even further until the only thing Pete could feel was the near warmth of Ice and the aching in his pants. “W-what?
Ice glanced down at the obvious erection tenting Pete’s pants. He raised his eyes again, burning a hole in Pete. He repeated himself slowly, “Show me.”
Pete sucked in a breath. This was a familiar challenge, a negotiation they had done hundreds of times in their friendship, flipped on its head. Show me yours and I’ll show you you mine distilled into its purest parts.
His hand trembled, either from adrenaline or nerves, as he slowly pulled down his zipper. The sound echoed in the room, as loud as an F-14 at max speed. Ice’s eyes dilated, shining in the low light.
Pete couldn’t help but groan. He was on such a hair trigger that for a moment he thought he would come just from the release of pressure.
Ice let out a low sound. It seemed involuntary, like he couldn’t help himself. It made Pete’s cock twitch but the rest of him was frozen, overwhelmed by possibility. He was burning from the inside out.
Ice stared at him for a long moment. He looked disheveled, burning just as hot as Pete was. The Iceman was long gone, leaving simply Tom in his wake. Tom, who seemed to want Pete just as much as Pete wanted him.
It was like every part of Pete had been chiseled down into a fine point, all burning sensation and Tom. Tom, with his strong hands and trim waist. Tom, towering over him but somehow never making him feel trapped. Tom, who he knew would stop any time Pete asked him to, except Pete didn’t want him to. He wanted to give Tom every piece of himself, to let himself be taken apart. He didn’t know how much of it was the pollen’s effect or something deeper within him. He had always thought Tom was beautiful, in the same way a snowstorm was. Bright and overwhelming and dangerous. That's what he wanted.
“Ice,” Pete panted. “Ice.”
“Yeah Mav?” Ice murmured, eyes tracing down the line of Pete’s body.
“Tell me what to do,” Pete said.
Ice breath shuttered, leaving him in one hard rush before he sucked it back in with a small gasp. “You sure?”
“Please,” he whispered, making it a complete thought before he could even think about trying to stop himself.
Ice’s hand was burning, finally finding his spot on the side of Pete’s neck. Pete leaned into it.
Tom’s voice was quiet when he spoke again. “Pull yourself out. Let me see you.”
It was easy to fall into the deep timber of Tom’s voice. Pete didn’t have to think--he could just let Tom guide the way.
Pete’s cock was red as he pulled it out and he couldn’t help but preen under Tom’s attention. He squeezed around the base to stop himself from coming right there, just from the level of attention Tom was giving him, but he didn’t stroke himself. His arm trembled with pent up energy but he could do it, he could wait for a command.
“Show me how you touch yourself,” Tom said. He leaned in, lips almost brushing Pete’s ear. “I want to watch.”
Pete couldn’t help the moan that tore out of his throat. The first stroke of his hand was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he grit his teeth and pushed the feeling down. He couldn’t do much with the fog in his brain but he could at least try and make this last.
“Good,” Tom purred into Pete’s ear, his hot breath pushing everything a little further into a fever pitch. The low pitch of his voice made Pete’s cock throb in his hand. “God, you look good like this. Just keep moving your hand and let me look at you, alright? You don’t have to think about it, just show me how you get yourself off.”
“Tom,” Pete whimpered. His hand kicked into a furious pace, completely lacking the finesse Pete knew he could do. He was scrambled, all full of pleasure and heat and the burning sensation of Tom, his presence far warmer than his callsign implied.
“Use your other hand too, Pete,” Tom said. “I have your number. I can just picture it, you with your hand on your cock and the other pressing inside yourself, never satisfied unless you're full. That’s what you really want, huh? For someone to be in charge and just fill you up.”
There wasn’t anything for Pete to do besides come. He couldn’t bring himself to care at how fast it happened. The entire world burned white, the only sensation left was Tom’s voice in his ear, “You really needed that, didn't you? Come on Pete, let it all out.”
The aftershocks made Pete tremble, but it helped with the fog in his mind, lifting just enough that he could narrow in on the obvious tent in Tom’s pants.
Pete’s mouth opened in a pant. “Let me touch you.”
Tom froze, a tense line next to Pete. “You don’t-”
“I want to,” Pete interrupted. He reached out with his hand that wasn’t covered in cum and rested it on Tom’s hip. “Come on, Iceman.”
“Are you sure?” Tom asked, his voice tight. “I don’t want it if it’s just a stupid dust side effect.”
“It’s not,” Pete said. The haze was creeping back in, a single orgasm not enough to erase it completely. The burning under his skin was starting again, pushing forward with what he already wanted. “I’ve wanted to suck you off for a long long time.”
Tom’s breath hitched, so minutely that Pete doubted he would’ve noticed if it wasn’t for how close together they still were. Tom stared at him for a long moment before nodding ever so slowly.
That was all Pete needed. He sunk to the floor, ignoring the way his own dick was still out and aching. He just wanted this--on his knees, looking up at Tom Kazansky and ready to take him apart. Pete kept eye contact as he ran his hands up Tom’s long, long legs. Their height difference had never been more pronounced in Pete’s mind.
Tom let out his breath in a long hiss as Pete slowly unzipped his pants. Pete didn’t go any further, hoping, praying, that Tom would understand, would know exactly what he wanted, just like he did in the air, just like-
“Take my cock out,” Tom said lowly, sending a shiver of arousal down Pete’s spine. Tom shifted, nudging his foot between Pete’s legs in a way that made him keen. He pressed the top of his loafer to the underside of Pete’s balls, giving him something to rut against. Tom smirked down at him. “And while you’re busy, you can get yourself off.”
Humiliation shivered its way down Pete’s spine, but he couldn’t help but nod furiously. This was it, exactly what Pete wanted. Tom putting him in his place like he had never been put before.
Tom sent him another look and Pete’s brain kicked into high gear. He slowly reached in and pulled Tom’s cock out. It was long and thick, not overwhelmingly so but enough that Pete was struck desperately with the urge to have it inside him. Part of him begged for him to stretch himself enough for it, but even though the pollen haze, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. He would have to save it for later.
“You like it, huh?” Tom was smiling again, wicked and sharp and so hot. Tom shifted his foot and Pete realized he had been humping it absentmindedly, just grinding against Tom’s shoe as he stared at his cock.
“Cmon, Pete,” Tom whispered. “Show me what your mouth can do.”
That was all the encouragement Pete needed to take the weeping tip of Tom’s cock into his mouth. He was still too scrambled for skill, but what he couldn’t do with finesse, he made up for with enthusiasm. He took Tom as deep as he could before bobbing back up and swirling his tongue around the head of Tom’s cock. Tom was breathing hard, his hands clenched tightly against the counter of the sink. Pete reached up and grabbed one of Tom’s hands, leading it to his head and staring up at him pleadingly. His hips twitched against the other man’s leg.
“God!” Tom groaned. He threaded his fingers into Pete’s hair. “Fuck--are you sure?”
Pete nodded as best as he could and opened his mouth even wider, ignoring the ache in his jaw. He fluttered his eyelashes and prayed Tom had followed his line of thought.
“Fuck,” Tom muttered again before adjusting his grip and thrusting into Pete’s willing throat.
Pete moaned around him. Tom was everywhere, in front of him, underneath him, inside him. Tom surrounded him and Pete had the distinct thought that he wanted this forever. He wanted forever with Tom, however he could have him. It didn’t matter if this was a one off thing or something he got to have for the rest of his life--Tom was his at this exact moment and by fucking God would Pete make sure he remembered him.
Pete dragged his cock against Tom’s shoe in time with Tom’s hard thrusts. Everything was speeding up and Tom was making these sweet little gasping noises above Pete, his lips bitten red and swollen in his attempt to keep himself quiet. Pete didn’t care about quiet, he cared about Tom coming down his throat.
Pete pulled back and Tom let him, his hand following Pete as he pulled off. A long line of spit connected Pete’s mouth to Tom’s cock. He had abandoned any semblance of a rhythm with his hips, just rutting mindlessly against the leather. He wrapped a hand around Tom’s dick and gave it one long, tight stroke. He aimed it at his face and grinned. “Come for me.”
Tom’s knees buckled, his foot sliding forward and finally giving Pete the pressure he needed to come for a second time. Pete’s head spun, sensation consuming him. He felt it all, the texture of Tom’s leather loafer against his balls and the searing heat of Tom’s cum covering his face. It all heightened to a white point, pushing Pete over the edge.
He turned back into Tom's soft voice and even softer hand wiping a wash cloth against his face. “So good, Pete. You did so good.”
“Some side effect,” Pete muttered as his head finally cleared.
Tom snorted. “Better report it to the nurse.”
Pete threw his head back with a laugh. “Shit, I think I actually have to.”
“You can call once we get you cleaned up,” Tom said, shifting and pulling Pete up to his feet with him. He looked impassive once again. “You feeling better now?”
“Yeah,” Pete nodded. The fog was clearing more and more by the second, like the pleasure had wiped him completely clean. “Are you okay?”
Tom shook his head. “I don’t matter Pete, you’re the one that just had a reaction to some crazy shit from a mission. It’s fine.”
Pete frowned. “Wait one second. Yeah, you did a good thing helping me out but that doesn’t change that I want to make sure you’re okay too.”
“Mav-”
“Pete,” he corrected firmly. “I just humped your leg, I think you can call me Pete.”
That was enough to put just the slightest of cracks in the Iceman’s facade. He rolled his eyes. “Pete. I know it was just a side effect. It’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it.”
Pete took a step back, the cold air hitting his skin as soon as he was out of Tom’s grasp. He could feel the cum drying on his stomach and his crotch. “Yeah, it was a side effect but that doesn’t mean I want to sweep it under the fucking rug.”
“I’m telling you, we don’t have to.” Tom straightened up, their height difference much less sexy than it had been a moment before.
Pete scowled up at him. He grabbed Tom’s hand. “Maybe I want to.”
For the second time that night, Tom froze. He stared, long and hard at Pete, like he was looking for the lie in the lines of Pete’s face. Pete just stared back. He knew his truth. “Are you sure?”
Pete didn’t hesitate. He leaned up and finally pressed his lips to Toms.
Pete’s pants were still around his ankles and they were both sticky where they pressed together, but as Tom’s lips moved against Pete’s, he knew he had never been more sure of anything in his life.