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If It Persists (Top Gun, Iceman)


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This is another installment from my Sicktember prompts and I couldn’t resist a Top Gun entry. It’s been a little bit since I’ve written any Top Gun and I am eager to get back to it. This one will be a little shorter, but I’m hoping to write some longer ones later. It’ll be Ice/Mav with a whole lot of fluff to go around. I hope you all enjoy!








    Maverick begins to panic when he can’t lower Ice’s fever. It seems Ice isn’t the only one in need of caretaking.







    Maverick walked slowly into the bedroom, holding a glass of orange juice and another dose of fever reducer. He tried not to let the frustration show on his face, even if all he wanted to do was yell at whatever doctor kept telling them to stay the course to tackle Ice’s fever when nothing was helping. It may not have gone up, but he was still right at 102 as it had been for the last three days. It wasn’t unusual considering his cancer treatment, but Maverick couldn’t help but worry. Ice’s immune system was shit anytime he came down ill. He did his best not to worry Ice over it, but he had never been good at hiding things like that.


    He put a fake smile on his face as he turned the corner to find Ice in the same spot he left him about a half hour earlier. He held a book in his lap as he was propped up on a 90 degree angle. His head was bowed forward, chin against his chest with his reading glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. Ice’s breathing was anything but regular, thick congestion crackling in his chest. He snored softly, every couple of moments seemingly pausing as he huffed softly in the back of his throat before turning regular again. It was that same sound that sent Maverick into a panic whenever he heard it, and today was no exception.


    As much as Maverick wanted to let the other man sleep, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. Ice needed to be up and to take his next dose of meds whether he wanted to or not. Maverick had never been a stickler for the rules, but when it came to Ice’s health, that was something Maverick wouldn’t dare challenge.


    “Honey,” Maverick whispered as he drew closer. “Sweetheart?” No matter the terms of endearment, Ice slept on, snoring more prevalent as he heaved in a large breath. At least, it was large for Ice after cancer and the treatments that followed. His voice may never be the same, but Maverick didn’t care so long as the other man could still breathe without trouble.


    When speaking to him alone couldn’t rouse him, Maverick set the items on the nightstand and came to sit on the edge of the bed beside Ice. The softness of his features was impossible to ignore, and no matter what Ice said, Maverick still found him just as attractive now as he always did. No tracheotomy scar or weight loss would change that. Maverick still woke up everyday and thanked whatever God was listening that he was able to be by Ice’s side. Cancer had shaken both of them and really taught Maverick that he would be lost without the light haired pilot beside him.


    Maverick smiled as he reached out and took the glasses from Ice’s face before thy could fall. The other man turned his head to the side away from the touch to find there was no support behind his head. He started to fall sideways until Maverick reached out and took his shoulder before he could fall. Ice’s eyes snapped open at the sudden touch, the alarm unmistakable in his stormy grey eyes.


    “Easy, it’s just me,” Maverick reassured as he flashed his most charming smile. “Kind of nodded off a little bit there, huh?”


    Ice made a face, one that Maverick had come to recognize as ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about.’ It was instinctual after all this time that looks could be so important as Maverick could tell what Ice wanted to say by a variety of different looks. In fact, he encouraged it as Ice really shouldn’t be talking as it could cause undue damage and pain to his vocal cords.


    “You’re sick. Sick people sleep. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”


    Ice cleared his throat harshly. “Mav.”


    “No talking! You remember what the doctor said?”


    “Yes, because I was there!”


    Before Maverick could scold Ice for talking, his throat seemed to do that for him. He doubled over, coughing into a lifted fist, eyes screwed in pain. Each cough was thick and hoarse at the same time, sending Maverick in a panic. He reached forward and helped Ice lean forward as he thumped the heel of his palm on Ice’s back, just like the breathing specialist had shown him to help Ice cough up any gunk that had settled in his lungs. The fit went on for far longer than Maverick was comfortable, but when Ice’s lungs finally calmed, Ice pressed his lips firmly together and pointed to the tissue box on the nightstand.


    Maverick wasted no time in grabbing them for Ice and pulled a few out before offering them to his husband. Ice took them and coughed into the folds, grimacing at the taste it left behind in his mouth. He set the used tissues in the rapidly filling trashcan beside his bed so Maverick didn’t have to touch them.


    “I have just the thing for the taste,” Maverick announced gleefully as he picked up the glass of orange juice as well as the next dose of fever reducer.


    Ice lifted his hand and rested it on Maverick’s wrist, pushing with surprising force. Maverick frowned, not overly keen on spilling the drink just because Ice was trying to make a point.


    “Ice, you’ve had this fever for almost three days now. Nothing is working, but the doctor said to keep doing this. But if this goes on for one more day I’m taking you to the ER.”


    Ice’s head tipped to the side at hearing the frustration in Maverick’s voice. He wasn’t the only one that could be stubborn when they wanted to, not matter what Maverick tried to argue. He had spent far too much time in so many doctors office that he wasn’t keen on adding another. He understood where Maverick’s worry was coming from, he really did, but that didn’t mean that he would willingly subject himself to anymore poking and prodding.


    Before either of them could speak, Ice let out a faint gasp and lifted his head into his shoulder. “Itscsh! Itsh! Itsh! Itsh! Itsh! Itscsh! Itsh! Itsh! Itscsh! Itsh! Itsh! Istsh!” Pain resonated in Ice’s throat as he instinctively lifted a hand to his throat, the pulsating throb still echoing deep in his sore flesh. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, though he wouldn’t let them fall. Maverick couldn’t see him lik that or he would insist on going to the doctor even sooner.


    “Geez, bless you,” Maverick exclaimed, momentarily forgetting the medicine to pluck a tissue from the nearby box and tend to Ice’s nose for him. Ice bashfully turned away, even though this was hardly the first time his dignity had taken a blow during the course of the last couple months. Still, he didn’t want Maverick to have to do these type of things for him.


    As if reading his mind, Maverick leaned over and kissed Ice’s temple. “I love you, and I love taking care of you. You do know that, right?”


    Ice shrugged, the reality of his illness making his usually positive thinking a little more strained than usual. It was hard to have a positive outlook when every treatment thy did seemed to only delay the inevitable.


    Sighing, Maverick picked up the pills and held them up in front of Ice. “We can try that thing again where I place them as far back as I can and you drink? I know that sometimes that doesn’t hurt as much.”


    A worried look crossed Ice’s face, one filled with apprehension. Although a perfectionist by nature, he wasn’t immune to certain hesitations that held him back. The two of them had done everything they could think of to make it easier for Ice to swallow pills. They had tried crushing them, diluting them with water, mixing them in applesauce, and everything in between. Ice had eventually gotten frustrated with himself and took the pain that came with swallowing whatever was needed to swallow. Most times it was just best to swallow the pills by themselves and deal with the pain after just because he hated to be an inconvenience, even if Maverick assured him that he wasn’t.


    Against all he better judgement, Ice took the pill from Maverick and set it on his tongue. He then took the glass of orange juice and downed half of it, the chalky white pill scraping the entire way down. Tears sprung back into his eyes as he suddenly wretched his head aside with Maverick quick to take the glass before it could spill.


    The coughing fit that followed was one of the scariest that Maverick had ever experienced. Ice coughed and coughed, face turning redder and redder as he fought of breath. Maverick pulled him close and began to thump on his back with possibly more force than necessary. All he could remember was one particularly bad fit that clued them in that something was very wrong. Ice had began coughing up blood, more than just speckles, but seemingly a river of it and had been unable to stop. This sounded just the same and Maverick struggled to keep his composure and not immediately dial 911.


    Just when Maverick felt his hand drop to his pocket for his phone, Ice’s breathing began to even. He gave a few sharp coughs for good measure, body completely limp against Maverick.


    “Ice? Tom,” Maverick croaked.


    A weak hand came up to pat his chest. Through teary eyes, Maverick saw Ice’s hand form an o and then a k in sign language. Maverick couldn’t broken down right then and there, but he managed to blink the worst of his emotion away and lean forward to kiss Ice on the forehead.


    “Forgive me sweetheart if I don’t believe you,” Maverick chuckled, as forced as it could be. “Do you mind if I just hold you for a little bit? Think this fever you have is making me too attracted to you.”


    Ice knew the truth behind Maverick’s words for the cry for closeness that he needed. He was never one to turn down Maverick’s affection, content to be held by Maverick every hour of everyday if he was being honest. He had felt that way long before the cancer, but now everything felt more real, more dire. Every moment wasn’t a given these days, and if this was all they had left, then so be it.


    Ice leaned his head back against Maverick’s chest, the strong roar of his heartbeat sounding in his ears. His eyes closed as his mouth hung open as he continued to breathe heavily, nose too thick with congestion to even begin to breathe that way. He always had to sleep now propped up, usually with a stack of pillows behind him, though Maverick was always the more preferred option. Well toned arms wrapped around him, warding off the worst of the fever chills.


    “I adore you, you know that,” Maverick whispered against Ice’s head.


    “I know.”


    “And I know this hasn’t been easy on you, I know. Treatment is fucking miserable and I’m sure this isn’t the life that you had planned for yourself.” Maverick trailed off, tongue swiping across his dry lips as he felt his voice begin to break. “But, I know we’ll get through this and I will do whatever I can to help. Please, just don’t give up.”


    Ice had heard Maverick become sappy before, especially recently after his scans had come back with less than positive news. The spread to his lungs was an unfortunate step to say the least. Breathing had become more difficult, the effort not to hack up a lung when he spoke becoming harder and harder. He had been robbed of so much more than his voice. His military career, he feared, would never be the same either, especially as there was no way that he would ever step foot in a jet no matter how many doctors he tried to convince otherwise.


    It was true, their life was completely different than what they envisioned. Then again, Ice never would’ve thought that he would’ve been out and fallen in love with a man that he couldn’t stand when he first laid eyes on him. He had expected to take that to the grave, to never know the experience of loving another man when deep down that was what he had always wanted. If it wasn’t for Maverick’s boldness, his defiance of the rules no matter where they were enforced from, Ice never would’ve given into his attraction. That had been the best decision that he had ever made.


    It didn’t take long for Maverick’s fingers to find their way into Ice’s thinning hair. He was careful as he began to massage at Ice’s scalp and down his neck, taking extra care not to accidentally pull out any of the strands. “Try to get some sleep and we’ll take your temperature when you wake up.”


    Ice took Maverick’s free hand and held it close, his grip as strong as ever. His blunt nails curled around Maverick’s palm, each well earned callous as apart of Maverick as the wrinkles in his skin. He could tell it was Maverick just by his hand alone. Ice brought up to his chest and held it close, eyes beginning to close as the medication mixed with exhaustion took over.


    Even after Maverick felt Ice’s body going slack and he started to snore, he didn’t dare loosen his grip. He savored those moments, unsure of how many he would have. He would take everyday with Ice that he could, no matter how they ended. He was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he be damned if he had to watch that all fade away.


The End

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  • 1 month later...

I discovered your writing recently and I'm OBSESSED! The way you express the chemistry between these two is unreal! I can't wait to read more 😭

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  • 4 weeks later...

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