AN: English-still not my first language! Stry is UNBETAED!
While writing I was using the movie script from , and of course, the movie, but only where I decided that it fits my story. As a soundtrack I strongly recommend TOP GUN soundtrack, especially Top Gun Anthem by Harold Faltermeyer & Steve Stevens and (for the volleyball scene at least) Playing with the boys by Kenny Loggins – the gayest song ever! There's also Kenny Loggin's Danger Zone and of course Mighty Wings by Cheap Trick, 'cause there's no points for second best!
Chasing Sunsets
CHAPTER 1
MOJAVE DESERT – April 13, 1985
Black and red Ninja speeding down the long road roared almost as loud as the jets ripping through the sky. This was need – need for speed; A condition incurable in young age.
The driver's had was low, almost touching the handlebars with the Aviator shades, minimizing any air resistance, ignoring his passenger's fingers gripping the sides of his leather jacket just a little bit tighter.
Maverick pushed forward, adding even more speed. How fast would it go with Goose's fat ass slowing it down? How much power could he add before the engine explodes?
He didn't get the chance to find out as the sound of a siren reached his ears.
Slowing down was no fun at all.
Clouds of dust were settling down for miles back and Maverick wanted to smirk at the realization that he was there just mere seconds ago. The machine between his jeans clad thighs was slowly cooling off hissing softly in disappointment at the disrupted fun.
White bike with the California Highway Patrol sign stopped on the side slightly behind them. Maverick jumped off the ninja and stood at attention, while Gosse looked like he wasn't sure what to do. It really sucked. They didn't even reach San Diego and they already got into trouble.
"Son. Do you know why I stopped you?" CHP was an older guy clearly not dealing well with the overwhelming heat of the desert.
"Yes sir. I do sir."
Maverick had some good idea how to deal with authority, especially when he was in trouble. The cop adjusted his own Aviator shades wondering how to deal with the troublesome youth. It was pretty obvious that they both knew exactly why he had been stopped.
"Well... What is it?"
Maverick puffed out his chest and answered sincerely.
"Sir. You are going to give me a warning, Sir!"
It was hard not to smile at the young man's impressive poise, but the law was the law.
"License and registration."
Maverick handed the documents over together with his Navy ID. The cop scanned it for a moment with clear interest and growing respect.
"Lieutenant, do you know how fast you were going?"
Maverick didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes sir. I do, Sir."
"Well?"
"Sir. I was going Mach point one five."
CHP nodded sagely. "One SIXTH the speed of sound!"
"Yes sir."
"Lieutenant... What do you... usually fly?"
The kid had to be a pilot, right? He looked like one, and not only because of the jacket. It was something else, something in his temper, or something in his eyes….
"F-14's sir."
"Tomcats?"
"Yes sir!"
So what was this kind of speed to this young soldier? It was like telling the grown up that running through the corridors is dangerous.
"Lieutenant... Is there... a Russian attack?"
"No sir! But you have to be ready."
The cop smiled and escorted them right up to the gates of Miramar Naval Air Station.
"Lieutenant." "Yes, Sir?" "Remember one thing. Outside of this gate... I...am Top Gun."
Marine Corps Air Station Miramar - April 13, 1985
Hot day, scorching sun and the roar of jets in the air. Sixteen new recruits young enough to know everything, and fear nothing, filled with high hopes and living the highlight of their lives; making all their dreams come true. High school heroes and collage jocks. Brave and confident, ready to take on the world.
Which little boy doesn't dream to become a jet pilot? How many follow through with their dreams? Those who did and made it - dream about Top Gun. They want to be the best and prove it. This was what they lived for. This was their big chance, a huge step toward the future, even if the word didn't actually mean much to them just yet. It was NOW and there was nothing else. Just HERE and NOW. Eight weeks among the best of the best. With everything to prove.
The first day - everything around being new, interesting and exciting; the day to meet their rivals, face them and see if they meet your expectations and what they're made of. With bright eyes shining with curiosity, chests puffed up with pride and youthful arrogance they couldn't wait for it to finally start, before they burst in flames of their own excitement!
Or maybe it was just Maverick being like that…?
Goose seemed to be much cooler about the whole thing. It slightly irritated Pete that his friend could act so calm while he himself couldn't stop fidgeting and taking everything in with his hungry eyes. He almost craned his neck trying to asses every guy in the stuffy room. They were all like him, young and hopeful; wanting to prove themselves more than anything else.
Some of them looked bored, some amused and some seemed to challenge everyone who dared to look in their direction.
That's how Pete Mitchell figured out who's his main rival.
He was blond and tanned with sharp jaw bones and piercing blue eyes that were boring holes in him. He could practically feel them on the back of his head even after he turned around and tried to talk to his RIO. The blond looked like he owned the place and, even though Peter was anything but self conscious, this guy's staring made him feel uncomfortable. This asshole was really annoying, playing with a pen and looking so… stoic and cool, like he wasn't excited at all. Stupid prick.
Maverick often envied people who were able to keep their cool. He was a loose cannon all his life and it got him into troubles practically every day. That blond looked like he never did anything but perfect. He even sat too straight, like had an icicle stuck up his ass.
When another pair of eyes glared at him angrily Pete finally stopped staring, because this guy was even taller than the cold bastard and had his arm around the blond – not actually hugging but clearly showing others to back off. Mitchell was pretty sure it was the blond's RIO because they were all new in there and stuck close to their flying partners.
Jester started the lecture.
Maverick studied the rest of his class, unsuccessfully trying to ignore the dirty looks he was receiving from the aforementioned duo. To his left sat a pair of rather friendly looking guys, enjoying each other's closeness probably more openly than they should have.
"It gives me a hard on…" The smaller of the two – Leonard Wolfe known as Wolfman - was very attractive and had an addictive smile topped with a cheerful personality. He looked at his friend with a bedroom eyes.
"Don't tease me…" The other one – Rick Neven, call sign Hollywood - was calmer and seemed kind of lazy. Pete was pretty sure he would get along with them just fine. Actually, the two looked like they would get along with everybody.
Finally the door opened and officers walked in, led by the Viper – the best pilot of the U.S. Navy. That was it. It was real. It was about to start now and nothing would be the same from now on, ever.
They were in Top Gun.
"You're the elite, the best of the best. We're gonna make you better, because your job is damned important."
It may sound silly but they came here to hear just that! Hell, they lived to hear that!
"With the tensions in the world today, the potential for confrontation is greater than ever, and carrier pilots will be the first ones there. Air combat excellence is vital."
Viper continued his speech. All eyes trained on him except one pair of icy blues. Those never moved from Maverick's smaller form.
"...Someone once asked me if training men for air combat made the world less safe - flying loaded guns... an accidental confrontation and so forth..."
Maverick couldn't stand that anymore. It was like poking him in the back of his head. He turned to return the glare and his eyes were immediately locked with the blond's. His stomach tightened. Now he was sure. This really was his rival. Those other guys didn't count. The next eight weeks would be about him and this blond bastard grinning at him with his perfect set of pearly whites. Maverick wanted to smirk back but somehow couldn't. It was a challenge and he was all for it, but just at that particular moment he felt kind of sick and couldn't smile, even if it wasn't going to be sincere. Guess all the excitement made his head spin a bit too much. He tried to concentrate on Viper's words.
"My answer is: the dangerous thing is being unprepared. You want trouble, that's what you get when things don't work out, when you can't do what you say you can. When you don't know what you can do. And when your opponents aren't sure either. We are not policy. We don't make policy. Elected officials ...civilians, do that. We are the instrument of policy. The tip of the spear. So we had best be sharp."
Pete was sharp! And he sure as hell knew what he could do. Everything! He was the best and he couldn't wait to rub it in the blondy's perfect stupid face. Goose nudged his arm.
"Turn around and pay attention. What are you doing?" Maverick smirked at his best friend. "...Just wondering... who is the best."
Unexpectedly the Viper caught his words and smiled.
"Really... Ya know. We'd like to know who's best too. That's why we've got that plaque on the wall... with the top Top Gun crew from each class. You think maybe your name's gonna be on it?"
"Yes, Sir." Let this be his answer to the blond bastard's challenge.
"Considering the company you're in, that's a pretty arrogant attitude."
"Yes, Sir." The rest of the class reacted rather strongly. Some guys laughed other looked pissed.
"I like that in a fighter pilot. It's okay to be confident. You have to think you're King Kong to want to try to land on carriers. Just keep in mind the other component of success...teamwork."
"Yes sir." Maverick confirmed, though less enthusiastically, since he knew that the teamwork wasn't actually his forte.
"Gentlemen, this is about combat. Remember, there are no points for second place. Dismissed."
Some of them jumped out of their seats and run straight to the plague to read the names of the best and imagine their own engraved on the next coppery stripe; Goose among them, already fooling around with Wolman and Hollywood. Maverick didn't care about the plague. It was nothing. Being the best was everything. No points for the second place.
WEDNESDAY NIGHT
The club was crowded and more than a half of guests there were soldiers, marines; at least every fourth dressed in white uniforms, drinking and flirting with the local girls. Maverick was right about the pair of guys from his classes. Hollywood and Wolfman were really great. So was Chipper - rather calm guy with black hair and pretty face. They were drinking and having fun because starting tomorrow they would have no time to waste.
Pete's eyes were trained on Iceman. The cold bastard still looked absolutely impeccable. He stood straight and tall, seemingly completely sober, with some girls swarming around him, full of smiles. But he stayed completely indifferent and calm, with just a small courteous smile twisting his pink lips. Maverick truly hated the guy. And it's not like he didn't have a reason for that! Tom Kazansky was obviously picking on him. He did everything he could think of just to piss off Maverick, and the ease with which he managed to do it, was grating on the brunette's nerves. It was generally not very hard to piss Pete Mitchell, but still Kazansky took it to the whole new level, simply with the way he was looking, or smiling… He was driving Pete crazy with just the simple fact he was there. And like it was not enough Goose decided to make it worse by taunting Slider – Iceman's stupidly tall RIO.
"I thought you wanted to be a pilot."
Slider answered in stride: "Whose butt did you kiss to get here?"
"The list is long but distinguished."
"So is my johnson"
It seemed that it was the opening that Kazansky had been waiting for to come up and introduce himself; or more like made Goose introduce them all.
"Tom, this is Pete Mitchell. Pete, this is Tom Kazansky."
They shook hands. Tom's grip was strong. Pete was pretty sure that his own was stupidly weak for some reason. Kazansky was taller him (everybody was) and he was moving with this sort of calculated manner that could only be called elegance or maybe even dignity. He didn't quite fit there, among normal guys and it made Maverick wonder if he was maybe from some rich family and played piano since he was four…. Tom was perfectly calm and he was smiling, albeit insincerely, at the shorter man when he politely started a conversation. Maverick could feel the cold minty breath on his face. How come the bastard's breath was minty when he was drinking? Or maybe he wasn't? Maybe he was one of those pricks who only pretend to drink? Was Iceman really such a sissy?
"Congratulations on Top Gun." Even though he didn't say anything special the way he spoke seemed somehow sophisticated.
"Thank you." Maverick didn't want to smile so stupidly but his face tended to do that when he was nervous.
"I'm sorry to hear about Cougar. You know, we were kind of like brothers in flight school. He was a good man."
"Still is a good man." Cougar and Mav were rivals and liked to tease each other and banter but they were also great friends and Iceman's words just weren't right.
"That's what I meant." The blond man reached down over the counter, getting uncomfortably closer to the brunette. It put Pete's nerves on edge until he realized that Iceman was only reaching for some peanuts….
"… thought so…" Mitchell took a swing of his beer to busy himself with something.
"So, you need any help?" Iceman put his hands on his hips, and leaned over Maverick, slightly tilting his head to one side.
"With what?" Ice was too close, invading Maverick's personal space and Pete hated himself for not being able to just tell him off or push him away. He didn't want to make a scene and make a fool of himself in front of other guys. But, shit, why was he so nervous? Not that he didn't have a good reason to be! This guy was trying to intimidate him and he was doing it in a really fucking annoying way. And weird as hell. He clearly enjoyed making Maverick squirm and his eyes seemed to say: "You have no idea how much!"
"Did you figure it out yet?" Could this smile be any wider it split Ice's head in two.
"What's that?"
"Who's the best pilot."
"No, I think I can figure that one out on my own." Another dazzling smile.
"I heard that about you. You like to work alone."
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand that moment was awkward.
Iceman's blinding smile was gone and he was studying Maveick's face from the proximity he could probably see the pores in his skin. His eyes were flicking from Pete's one eye to the other, and then quickly to his tightly pressed lips. Maverick wanted to moisten them but it would probably made the situation even more awkward. It made Maverick ridiculously nervous. He fidgeted in his spot and didn't know what to do or how to act. He wanted to play tough, obviously, but he was leaning over the side of the counter while Kazansky was towering over him with his stupidly toned body and assessing gaze, and he was cutting off Peter's escape route. Not that Maverick wanted to escape the situation, he just… didn't want to be pinned to the counter by this guy. It was weird.
Finally Slider caught their weird 'moment' with more stupid taunting. He was also glaring accusingly at Mitchel though Pete had no idea what this was all about. When Slider dragged the Iceman away Maverick sighed with relief. Now he needed to relax and have fun, and apparently Goose had exactly the same thing in mind.
"Okay, it's my turn, isn't it? Okay, the bet is twenty dollars."
"Twenty dollars." Maverick repeated as a form of acceptance.
"Okay, you have to have carnal knowledge – with a LADY this time – on the premises."
Maverick smiled remembering this one time when he did a guy at the bar to win a bet. It was crazy. He was drunk and horny and the boy was cute and willing. He didn't do it because there was no girls around, though that was his excuse back then, but simply because he wanted to try it. It felt good, much tighter and warmer than a girl. After that he realized that there were many more things he maybe should have try but after sobering up he concentrated on forgetting about those ideas rather than exploring them. So, now he did the same and looked around in search of a potential target that would earn him twenty bucks. His eyes slid over the Iceman chatting with some guys in a corner. The man was looking right back at him. Weird bastard.
TBC...