Meajirase -thank you so very much for reviewing. You're the only one up there so I'm updatig before you lose interest. I like the 'dancing around each other' part of the stories too, but I'm always afraid that the readers don't, so it was good to know! Ok, enjoy! Chapter 4 of 6.

CHAPTER 4 Fightertown, Miramar, May 1985

Maverick was getting tired with this. Charlie still didn't talk to him and Iceman was a prick. His eyes seemed constantly glued to Pete and the brunette had enough of this. It was giving him boners at the most inappropriate moments and kept him constantly on edge.

Next flying session was a challenge in itself. They had two points of loss so when Maverick spotted Viper he chased him not looking behind. He was truly brilliant up until the moment when Jester appeared behind him and took them down….

"Defense department regrets to inform you that your sons are dead because they were stupid." It took a moment for Maverick to take in Gosse's words. They had lost. How was it possible? He still asked himself that very question when he was taking a shower. "You have 30 seconds Woolfman! I'm coming in!" Sometimes Hollywood just didn't bother with courtesy, but neither did Woolfman.

"Shut up, you butt nose!"

Luckily marines didn't have problem with their colleagues being gay. There were far too many of them to care. Woolfman an Wood's interactions were mostly welcomed with a friendly manner, so they got some whistles and catcalls. Just then Jester entered the locker room and walked up to Mav, who was still sulking by the wall.

"That was some of the best flying I've seen yet, kid. Until you got killed. You never, NEVER leave your wingman."

He left quickly and Maverick moved too. His place by the wall was instantly taken by Ice. The blond was wearing a towel so small that it barely covered his cock. It pissed Maverick that Ice was so tall and… build like that… bigger than him… probably in every aspect…. And THAT thought he hated even more than he hated Ice. He was not supposed to think about this anymore…

"Maverick…" So it was time for a lesson from the wICEman. "It's not your flying. It's your attitude. Your enemy's dangerous but right now you're worse than the enemy. You're dangerous and foolish. You may not like the guys flying with you, they may not like you, but whose side are you on?"

It wasn't nice but it was true and Mitchell needed to finally see it. When would he realize that flying is not just another game!? What does he need, to understand that when he flies he has not just his own life in his hands, but also others?! How could he just leave Wood?! When would he fucking grow up?

…

He was speeding through the streets purposefully ignoring speed limits and stop signs. He heard some hoots and slowed down slightly. He was nearing his destination anyway. After stopping by the airstrip he got off the bike, and turn when he heard a car braking with a loud screech right beside his Ninja. He didn't even have time to wonder who it was, because the black Mustang's door opened immediately revealing Iceman.

"What the fuck?" Tom smashed the car door close and walked up to Maverick.

"Are you done with the temper tantrum, Mitchell?"

"Fuck you, Kazansky! Go and read some text books!"

"It looks like I should maybe read one to you, so you would finally learn something!" Tom was losing his cool again.

"Were you trying to kill yourself on that just now?" He couldn't even remember why he followed Maverick so stupidly but he sure as hell would love to give him a lesson.

"Back off, Ice! I'm not in a mood for your shit! So fuck you."

"Really? And what kind of mood ARE you in then?" Where did that come from? Iceman stepped closer to Maverick, enjoying how the smaller man fidgeted and squirmed in clear discomfort. Pete tried not to panic. He tried that since last night when he realized that Ice manhandling him gave him a hard on. It was wrong on every level and clearly meant that he should avoid the blond demon. What the fuck was he doing here now? And why he always got so close…? And why didn't he ever push the bastard away? He should… but he didn't.

He let his butt rest on the Ninja's seat. Bad move. Now Ice was towering over him completely and it made him even more nervous and uncertain and he was sure he was blinking stupidly again.

Tom took in Pete's behavior. The man was lost and angry. He needed a vent.

"What's wrong, Maverick?" Iceman stepped between Pete's spread legs and rested his hands on the bike, on both sides of the other man's body. Obviously, in the situation like this one, Pete should feel trapped and intimidated, but somehow, not this time. He did try to pull back though, to create some distance.

"First Charlie and now you. I have enough of your preaching!"

"Did she dump you?" Tom's lips were too close…. almost brushing his when he spoke, but Pete didn't move away. He refused to run away.

"I was never with her, so she couldn't dump me." Iceman chuckled softly tickling Maverick's ear with his breath, sending delicious shivers through the shorter man's body. The air around was rapidly getting hotter and his pants tighter.

"But I saw you with her on the beach." Tom's mouth descended lower, from the small pinkish ear to the tempting looking neck.

"We were just talking about the MiG!" Why was he explaining himself to this bastard? He felt lips pressing softly to the skin right under his ear. His whole body gave a start at the shock of pleasure coming from a sensitive spot but the instinctive urge to resist made him react defensively.

"And it's none of your business!" Iceman landed on his as in the grass looking adorably confused, like he had just fell of the sky and had no idea where he was or why. Maverick wanted to laugh at him. He wanted to yell and call him names. He wanted to punch him in the face! It just that he couldn't, because he was somehow straddling Iceman's stomach and his tongue was examining Kazansky's tonsils. For someone with a call sign Iceman, Tom could be really hot when he wanted to.

Two days ago they were fighting in just exactly that very place, under the same sun setting behind the horizon, with the same planes roaring in the background. Now they were lying in the grass rutting against each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Pete was holding Tom's face in his hands, like he was afraid that he would run away.

Iceman's hands were everywhere, exploring Maverick's body, familiarizing themselves with the taunt muscles of his back and thighs, with his hips and his little ass. Damn, Maverick's ass was so tiny and promised so much pleasure that it almost made Tom cum on the spot. With one hand wandering somewhere under Maverick's leather jacket and the other one rubbing over the cleft of his ass he pulled him closer, letting the hardness' in their pants get some friction.

"Fuck…" Maverick moaned, releasing Tom's lips for a moment and exposing his neck for them to explore. It felt incredible! Oh fucking damn it… He wanted more… Then he felt something prod on his hole and for the briefest moment he wondered WHEN THE FUCK did his pants were pulled down?! But then it didn't matter anymore, because something wet and slick was screwing itself between his legs and into him…. And he knew it was just a finger and that it was alright. It's not like he was being fucked or anything. It was just touching. But the drilling was reaching deeper with their every move and Maverick found himself pushing back to get more of it in. Another finger, and another and then something more…

"Fuck no!" The fingers came back, thrusting, rubbing….

"Why the hell not?"

"I won't let you fuck me…"

"Don't act like a girl, Mitchell. It doesn't suit you."

"Shut up…" He moaned shamelessly, lost in pleasurable moves around his prostate. He rubbed his dick on Iceman's a little more and was about to have his release, but the man under him removed his hand.

"What the fuck?" His voice was breathless and hoarse.

"I want you, Mitchell. I wanted you from the first time I saw you…"

"Well, you can't have me. I won't let you do it. Not you!"

"What the fuck do you mean, not me? Then who? Chipper? Who the hell is better than me, huh?" Maverick sat up slightly to let the other man's hand pump his dick. It was perfect.

"Who, Mitchell? Who could be better than me?"

"I AM!"

"But you can't get your own dick up here now, can you?" With these words Iceman's nimble finger wet with pre-cum slid down, over Maverick's balls and to the crevice further down. Cold bastard was calm and so freaking annoying!

The finger got in again and again bringing the pleasure back. And then it wasn't a finger anymore and it hurt as hell, but at this point Pete would rather die than stop.

He moved his hips adjusting to the large intruder and trying to get it deep enough to rub that spot. When it did, there was nothing else anymore, just the pleasure radiating from between his legs. When he opened his eyes after being blinded by the power of his orgasm, what he saw took his breath away anew.

Tom's head was pulled back and his lips slightly parted, twisted in something that could be pain but wasn't. It was total abandon and it was something that Maverick would never be able to forget. Ever cool and composed Iceman let him – his rival – to see him at his weakest… And he was so fucking beautiful…. The bile had risen in Pete's insides - somewhere low, just above that spot were the tip of Iceman's dick was still screwing the most sensitive gland of his nerves. Then it moved up, through his stomach, bumping painfully at his heart and slid out of his mouth in a pitiful sob.

Tom slowly opened one eye and lazily looked at his partner, still riding him helplessly. Maverick was gorgeous. And he was kissing him again…. Being kissed by the feisty brunette seemed almost impossible! Fucking him was beyond belief…

When Maverick finally released his lips he looked him in the eyes for a very long moment.

"I still hate you." With one smooth move Iceman switched their position and was pinning Pete's hands to the ground with just ONE of his own.

"Don't say things you may regret, Mitchell." Maverick chuckled.

"Fine, maybe I just don't like you…" That earned him the weirdest punishment ever – a finger up his sore ass.

"Shit! S-stop…" Ice leered at him and grinned like a maniac.

"Are you sure?"

"Fuck you! Yes, I'm sure! I'm sore you stupid fucker…"

"I would apologize but you were on top. You did it to yourself."

"Shut up…. You practically raped me." Tom laughed at that.

"You threw me to ground, straddled and rode to the best orgasm ever, and you still have a gal to claim I had raped you. Your arrogance is unbelievable."

"Was that supposed to be compliment?"

"Yea, I guess…"

"I'm still angry at you. I came here on a bike, you know? And now I can't seat!" Tom's hysteric laughter was slowly dying down.

"You know Mitchell, you will be a good boyfriend material when you finally grow up."

Nothing lightens up the mood better than getting laid. Fuck, Ice would have this stupid smirk on his face for a week….

"Fuck you, Kazansky! If you ever tell about this to anyone, I swear…"

"And risk my reputation? For your skinny ass? Forget it, Mitchell."

They both smiled. They both wanted to say and hear those things, though neither of them believed one word of this crap.

Or maybe they did? Who cares. There was some unbearable tension between the two of them and now it was gone. Now everything should settle down at least a bit.

TBC