Tender Loving Care (Top Gun, Iceman)

[Wolfwings22]

I had a little bit of free time recently and wrote this rather quickly one night and thought that I would post it. It’s another Top Gun, this one with Ice and Maverick married and dealing with an illness while Ice is at the tail end of his cancer treatments. Mostly fluffy with a little angst since it’s me. I hope you all enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    A pencil dragged over a peace of scratch paper, attention of the man in question locked on what was in front of him. The sound of scraping filled the air, followed by frantic erasing. A mutter tore through the air, followed by hands furiously wiping the page clean and jotting down even more numbers furiously. The page was practically filled with different numbers and equations, and still none of it made any sense. The pencil was thrown against the scrap paper and pushed aside with more force than necessary, the corners crinkling as it pushed against the back of the desk.

 

    Shaky hands came to rest on either side on the desk and knuckles cracked as they were pushed against a wrist until the wrist rolled against the edge of the desk. Stiffness had set in hours ago, though he had tried to work past it. Pain started to spread from every digit down his radial bone, no doubt there would be a time when his carpal tunnel would progress just enough when writing would become just as painful as talking.

 

    Just as he was about to start again, a gentle knock echoed through the room. Steal grey eyes twisted to meet the familiar green of a man that he had hoped not to disturb.

 

    “Mav,” the gray eyed man croaked.

 

    “Ah ah ah.” The shorter man, Maverick, waggled his finger as he drew closer to the older man. It was only when he made his way directly behind him did he embrace him, arms tight around the shoulders and lips coming to press on the back of his too warm neck. “Still warm, Ice.”

 

    Ice frowned and gave a dismissive wave of his wrist. “I’m fine.”

 

    “Stop talking.” Maverick chided, hands coming up to feel on either side of Ice’s neck, touch ginger as he dabbed his pointer and middle finger against the swollen nodes. “They’re swollen.”

 

    Ice gingerly twisted from Maverick’s prodding fingers, stubble coated cheek falling limp against Maverick’s hand until it was nearly cradled in the palm. Adept fingers traced over the still muscular jaw. Maverick’s head bowed forward until his forehead was touching the back of Ice’s head where his hair was now just beginning to grow back, though thinned and brittle. Crisp strands still fell onto his shoulders every now and again, though his body was finally ridding itself of the chemo that he had taken round after round of. It had ravaged his body as much as they had warned it would, zapping his strength, energy, and appetite. The likelihood of him ever regaining his full capacity after cancer was slim, yet Maverick spent everyday wishing for the man that had no pain, no discomfort, would be able to come back to him.

 

    “They’re always swollen, Mav. I have cancer.”

 

    “Had cancer,” Maverick corrected instantly.

 

    “My scans haven’t come back yet.”

 

    “And until they do, I’m willing to bet you’re cancer free. See, I can be optimistic for the both of us.” Maverick slipped his arms from around Ice’s neck and extended his right hand to Ice’s left. “Now, you really, really have to get some rest. I’ll worry about dinner.”

 

    Ice wrinkled his nose at the mention of a meal, which unsettled Maverick. He attempted to hide it he continued to wiggle his fingers to gain Ice’s attention. Ice gave a huff before taking Maverick’s hand and used Maverick’s weight to his advantage to haul himself into a standing position.

 

    The moment he was upright, the world teetered and his left knee buckled. If it wasn’t for Maverick’s stellar reflexes, he would’ve face planted. Maverick’s muscular arms caught Ice around the waist and helped him straighten, and only when he was steady did Maverick dare loosen his grip and take a step back, ready to jump back in if need be.

 

    Ice waved him off as he shuffled across the room to the door with Maverick hot on his heels. It was difficult for Ice not to snap back that he could manage things on his own without Maverick hovering. Then again, it wasn’t like he had been able to prove that as of late.

 

    Light shone down the hallway when Ice stepped out of the office and turned the corner toward the master bedroom. He stole a glance over his shoulder to see Maverick still watching him intently, lightly closing the door behind him while Ice shuffled down the hallway. He had to stop halfway to their room to cough thickly into the crook of his elbow, thick phlegm crackling deep in his throat. He forced himself to swallow when the fit passed, all prior strength ebbing away like sand in an hourglass. Perhaps spending the last couple hours focusing on work locked in his office hadn’t been the best idea. 

 

    To Ice’s relief, Maverick allowed him some peace as he headed downstairs to cook dinner while Ice got ready for bed. It may have only been 7:30, but to Ice it felt like it was midnight. Aches and pains had taken over his joints, and he honestly couldn’t tell if it was due to his illness or just old age. Walking anywhere took twice as much time, which continued to frustrate him into pushing his body too far and having to ask Maverick for help when he inevitably crashed. He had really hoped that tonight wouldn’t have been one of those times, yet he couldn’t have been more wrong.   

 

    Ice skipped the bathroom and went right into the bedroom to change. Halfway to his dresser he had managed to shed his uniform and set it ceremoniously on the bed. His slacks were set beside it before he made his way to his dresser while he pulled his plain white undershirt over his head. He caught his reflection in the oval mirror on top of his dresser where Ice could see the numerous scars that stretched across his chest and abdomen from numerous surgeries from when he was younger, and others a lot more recently. The most noticeable one to Ice would always be where his tracheotomy had been closed, alongside the deep scars from the numerous biopsies he had. He had lost count of the amount of times he had been in and out of the hospital in the last year alone.

 

    He adverted his gaze a moment later to finish changing and picking up his discarded under clothes and carried them over to the hamper in the corner of the room. As he took a step back from the hamper, a sharp itch stirred in his nose. The back of his wrist came to rub harshly against his nose until he pitched off to the side to sneeze over his shoulder.

 

    “Hish’hu! Hish’shu! Hish’hu! Hish’shu! Hish’shu!”

 

    Ice blinked his eyes against the irritation before letting out a liquid sniffle. Brow furrowed in distain, he set back towards the bed. It only took a few steps before he reached his destination. His body slumped against the pillows while Ice pulled the comforter and sheets down to allow himself in. He shifted back on his right hip and pushed the comforter down even father so it only rested over his legs as the rest of his body felt as though he was boiling. Sweat collected on his forehead and he weakly wiped it away.

 

    “Knock knock.”

 

    Ice lifted his head to see Maverick waiting at the door with a tray in hand. A bowl of soup was at the center as well as a tall glass of orange juice. It wouldn’t have been a combination that Ice would normally be thrilled about, his stomach gave a sudden growl. His hand came to rest on his stomach as he shot Maverick a bashful glance.

 

    “Knew you’d be hungry,” Maverick teased as he ventured closer to the bed. Each step he took was calm and calculated, eyes never leaving the soup as it balanced precariously at the center. He managed the few steps that it took to get from the doorframe to the bed and set the tray on Ice’s nightstand. He grasped the glass and tried to hand it over to Ice only for his husband to hold up a hand and turn away. “Come on. It’s not the pulpy stuff. I double checked.”

 

    Before Ice could explain that it wasn’t the drink making him look away, his shoulders leapt up as his head crashed down against his chest. “Hish’shu! Hish’hu!” His nose buzzed as he rubbed it against his shoulder, the rough material of his t-shirt helping the itch blossom through his sinuses. “Hsih’shu! Hish’hu! Hsh’hu! Hsh’shu! Hsh’shu!”

 

    Maverick chuckled and sat back with the glass rested on his left knee. “Kitten sneezes.”

 

    Ice grimaced and gave a thick sniffle. “You know, most people just say ‘bless you’.”

 

    “Yeah, well, most people aren’t me.” Maverick held the glass steady as he leaned over and lightly kissed the tip of Ice’s reddened nose.

 

    Ice immediately recoiled back, nostrils flaring in helpless need. “Maverick,” he hissed between helpless hitches that stole his breath when he tried to speak. His hand came up to lift the collar of his shirt and brought it up over the lower half of his face. His eyelashes fluttered as he wrestled with the itch that had taken hold of him all from that gentle kiss from Maverick.

 

    “Hsh’shu! Hish’shu! Hsh’shu! Hish’hu! Hish’shu! Hish’shu!” The final sneeze was messier than he expected and dampness could be felt through his shirt. Embarrassed, Ice lowered his shirt from his nose, the moisture freely dripping from his now reddened nostrils. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Maverick’s gaze, especially when it had become clear what Ice had been desperately trying to prevent.

 

    Maverick didn’t make a comment like Ice expected. Instead, he reached forward to open the top most drawer in Ice’s dresser and picked up a cloth handkerchief that was in the rightmost corner. He handed it over to Ice with an encouraging smile, though he was unsure if Ice had actually saw. The other man was too busy rubbing his nose and giving a congested honk to worry about how Maverick looked. A few delicate dabs with the driest corner he could find finally gave him enough confidence to lift his head to meet Maverick’s gaze.

 

    “Orange juice,” Maverick offered as he stretched his arm with the glass out to Ice.

 

    Ice wrapped his fingers around the cool glass and lifted it with shaky hands to his mouth. He took a few delicate sips, the acidic liquid scorching his throat. He hadn’t even noticed that it was sore until the orange juice hit it, and he winced as he handed the glass back to Maverick, fighting not to make a face of disgust.

 

    Maverick set the glass on the nightstand and grabbed the soup next. A small spoon rested on the side to allow Maverick to stir the noodles with the carrots and chunks of chicken. It was nowhere near as good as the homemade soup that Ice always made for Maverick when he was sick, though he hoped that the canned stuff would be satisfactory.

 

    “It might taste like crap,” Maverick warned as he handed the bowl over.

 

    Ice took it and set it on his lap, hands cupped around the slick sides as the warmth ebbed into his chilled hands. His head leaned over the bowl and although his nose was beginning to stuff up, he could detect the smell of hearty meat and vegetables along with the broth. “You spoil me.”

 

    “Spoil you,” Maverick scoffed. “I heated up some soup in a can. How is that spoiling you?”

 

    “You always spoil me by taking care of me.”

 

    Maverick winced at Ice’s words. “Honey, that’s what is done in a relationship, in a family. Remember? We’ve talked about this?”

 

     Ice looked to the side as a shadowed look appeared on his face that made him look ten years older. His eyebrows knit together as he thought hard, chapped lips peeling apart timidly. “Guess I forget there for a second.”

 

    Maverick reached out and rested his hand over Ice’s, careful not to accidentally startle him into spilling the soup on himself. “It’s alright. Sometimes sickness can make your thoughts a little muddled. That’s perfectly normal.” As much as Maverick hated to admit it, there were times when Ice confused his past with the present, that he didn’t need to be perfect and be meek to everyone just to avoid the attention of his own family. Maverick had spent decades trying to show Ice that people did care for him, not because of what he could do for them, but for who he already was. Maverick had tried to show Ice that just loving him didn’t require a thank you, but sometimes these moments of confusion took over and Maverick felt like they were right back at where they started.

 

    “Barely sick,” Ice protested stubbornly.

 

    “Uh huh. Tell that to your nose and throat.” Maverick reached over and stirred the soup with the spoon before pressing the spoon into Ice’s left hand. “Now eat up before it gets cold. It should help your throat and maybe that congestion that’s starting.”

 

    Ice nodded in agreement and set the spoon into the warm broth. With a shaky hand, Ice brought it up to his mouth and took a light sip. The warmth that flooded through his body and coated his throat was glorious and the content smile on his face told Maverick all that he needed.

 

    “Now can I convince you to rest your voice,” Maverick almost pleaded. “For me?”

 

    The telltale Maverick pout was one thing that Ice couldn’t resist no matter what he claimed. The worry filled eyes and telltale frown worked wonders on Ice until he forced himself to tear his gaze away in favor of collecting another spoonful of soup. Instead of answering verbally as he was sure Maverick would scold him for, he nodded instead and took another bite, teeth slicing through the decedent noodles and tearing at the soft chicken.

 

    Silence fell between them until Ice finished his meal and twisted to place the bowl on his nightstand. His hand came to rub against the side of his nose only for his eyes to flutter as he lifted his elbow and secured it tightly around his nose and mouth. “Hish’shu! Hshs’hu! Hschs’shu! Hish’hu!” Ice stopped briefly and let out a few husky coughs into his arm. “Hish’shu! Hish’hu! Hish’hu!” He straightened back up again despite his frustration, a thick, gurgle filled snuffle squelching from his nose.

 

    “Bless you, honey.” Maverick reached out for the handkerchief before Ice could grab it, covered his hand, and came toward Ice’s shielded face. “Please, can’t I help?”

 

    Ice reluctantly lowered his hand, but not before muttering against his chest, “I’m not an invalid.”

 

    “I never said that you were,” Maverick protested as he began to dab away the moisture that was dripping from Ice’s nose. “Just wanted to help. I know how tired you are. This is the least that I can do.”

 

    For reasons that Ice still couldn’t understand, Maverick enjoyed caring for him in anyway that he knew how. Whether that was with soft reassurances before they went to sleep, or dealing with every illness or injury that came their way. Maverick may be a pain in the ass at work that Ice still had to deal with more times than not, but at home he was a completely different person. Away from the Navy he was a different man, more careful and considerate, certainly not as hotheaded. He was still Maverick, just maybe a subdued version of his military self.

 

    Maverick clamped the handkerchief over Ice’s nose and instructed him to blow. Ice did as was asked, and after a few thunderous blows, he felt himself able to take in a breath through his nose without thinking that he was drowning. While open mouth breathing could be an option short term, it definitely couldn’t be a long term solution.

 

    While Ice seemed trapped in his own world, Maverick reached out and rested his palm against his lover’s jaw. “Do you want to take anything? I think we still have some NyQuil downstairs.”

 

    Ice shook his head. “Just want you.”

 

    “Now that’s something I can do.” Maverick reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head and threw it aside. Next were his pants, and only when he was just in his boxers did he crawl over to his side of the bed and slip under the covers. He lifted them back over himself and then Ice, the decorative pillows thrown aside in favor of fluffing up the actual pillows until he found a comfortable position to lay down next to Ice with.

 

    Ice was more hesitant as he slipped down beside Maverick, unsure if the shorter man would still want to hold him close now that it was apparent that he was coming down with something. Ice didn’t want to request it even though the idea of not being in Maverick’s arms left him feeling a stone of cold dread settling deep in his stomach.

 

    Maverick wrapped an arm around Ice’s shoulders and pulled him close. “C’mere.” He continue to pull Ice until his head was rested on his chest, slightly elevated while Maverick ran his fingers through Ice’s thinning hair. His fingers traced down to the back of his neck and rubbed lightly an attempt to help the older pilot relax. “Comfortable?”

 

    Ice stiffened as he lifted a hand to clamp his nose shut between his forefinger and thumb. “Hghght! Hxght! Hghct! Hgxght!”

 

    Maverick tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth and lifted the handkerchief from earlier and forced Ice’s hands from their death grip on his nose. All it took was Maverick lightly running his pointer finger around the delicate edges of Ice’s nostril through the handkerchief to tip the other man over the edge.

 

    “Hisch’SHu!” Ice’s head snapped into the folds, nose flooding into the handkerchief that was still in Maverick’s hands.

 

    “Bless you! Knew that would do the trick.”

 

    Ice couldn’t answer, already gearing up for the rest. “Hish’shu! Hish’shu! Hish’hu! Hshsh’shu! Hchs’hu! Hsih’shu!”

 

    “Bless you some more.” Maverick turned to a cleaner side and rubbed at Ice’s nose fiercely, the deep squelch sounding from deep in his sinuses. “Give me a good blow. Like you actually mean it.”

 

    Just to spite him, Ice actually tired. He was able to clear himself out fairly well, though he didn’t know how long that would last for. He still felt sniffly even when Maverick wiped his nose dry and set the handkerchief on his bare chest for later use. If there was one thing that both of them knew, was that Ice was a sneezy guy when he got sick. He could never be satisfied with just one or two, it always had to be a whole display.

 

    “Sorry,” Ice croaked.

 

    “No need to apologize. I’m here to help you feel better, and if that’s holding a handkerchief to your sneezy nose, then that’s what I’m going to do.” Maverick kissed the top of Ice’s had. “Just remember how I’m treating you when I catch this.”

 

    “You may not.”

 

    “Yeah, or I may.”

 

    Ice chuckled as he relaxed against his husband with his eyes already beginning to close. The sooner that he could fall asleep, the likelihood that he would sneeze again would diminish greatly. As much as he loved Maverick to care for him, he did not want another display like he just had.

 

    “I love you,” Ice heard Maverick whisper while still threading his fingers through Ice’s hair.

 

    Ice gave an incoherent mumble, to which he hoped Maverick would understand before the tendrils of sleep finally took hold.

 

    The End

 

 

[solitaire-au]

That was so fluffy and adorable! 🥰 

[RemedyBane]

AH! I love it! Sorry I've been gone! Misss you! Hope all is well XOXO

[spn27695]

Gorgeous. I get so happy when you upload. Thank you!!