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Usually, when Maverick is summoned to Ice’s office, he knows exactly why, and is actively trying to escape detection. This time, when word reaches him that Ice is waiting for him in his office, and that he isn’t happy, Mav’s not sure the reason.
“You wanted to see me?” Maverick asks, tacking on a ‘sir’ for good measure.
“Close the door, Captain Mitchell,” Ice says, not looking up from his paperwork. In their younger days, Ice would’ve been working his jaw, clenching and unclenching his fists to keep from yelling, but today he looks calm, if irritated.
“Yes, sir,” Mav says, standing in familiar position in front of Ice’s desk. He knows that if Ice is calling him ‘Captain Mitchell,” then he’s not going to be in the mood to tolerate anything else.
“I heard an interesting story about Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin today from Commander Bates,” Ice says, finally looking up. “Apparently, they were joking around with one of his ensigns about getting out of HACQ by faking a dying grandparent, who then had the gall to try it out. Now I wonder where they would’ve gotten that idea?”
Mav tries to look innocent. “Are you suggesting they learned that from me, sir? That’s the oldest trick in the book.”
“You know, I thought that myself,” Ice says, “But the kid tried to insist that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Told his CO that ‘some guys do it so often they have to keep a running list of which superior officer knows what.’”
Mav knows he’s well and totally fucked at that. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but Ice raises a hand. “I’ve known a lot of pilots, but only one brazen enough to do that. That same one who was apparently foolheaded enough to tell the tale to the people under his command.”
“I didn’t think they’d take it seriously,” is all Mav can think to offer up in his own defense.
“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Ice says, “And if I thought you were encouraging your people to commit acts of insubordination, this would be a very different conversation. As it is, I think you’re due a reminder of the responsibilities of leadership.”
Mav nods, hoping to show Ice that he’s listening and taking this seriously. Personally, he thinks Ice is blowing this situation out of proportion, but he’s learned all too well that being flippant will end poorly for him. He can save that for griping to Hondo later.
Ice continues. “So here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to give Lieutenants Bradshaw and Seresin each a paddling for this. I know they didn’t intend do do any harm, so it doesn’t need to be severe, but I want to give them at least two dozen. Then, before we go home tonight, you’ll report back to my office and I will give you the same paddling.”
Well, that sounded like something Maverick absolutely did not want to do. “Sir, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Get it done, Captain Mitchell. This is not a request.”
“Hey, Hondo, I need to hop on a call with Cyclone. Can you do me a favor in the meantime?”
“Sure, what’s up?” Hondo says, grabbing a pen.
Mav tries to be nonchalant, like this were any other favor and not something that was very much his responsibility Iceman had personally ordered him to do. “So, I need you to discipline Bradshaw and Serensin for some nonsense they got into. I’m thinking two dozen with the paddle each will do it.”
Hondo immediately clicks his pen and puts it in his pocket. Mav watches him, confused, as Hondo starts looking around the room. “Hondo?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just trying to figure out who you were talking to who would be dumb enough to do that for you. Because I know it sure isn’t me.”
Mav tries not to blush. “You’ve swatted them before!” He argues, trying to forget that his team aren’t the only ones who’ve been swatted by Hondo.
“Yeah, when I’ve caught them needing to be knocked down a peg. Bending them over and really giving them what-for has gotta be on you, Mav. They’re your guys.”
The words leave Maverick’s mouth before he can stop them. “And if I order you to do it?”
Hondo raises an eyebrow, daring Maverick to back down. When he doesn’t, Hondo sets his clipboard down. “Let’s go talk in your office.” Without waiting for an answer, Hondo turns and walks down the hall, leaving Mav following behind him.
Mav and Hondo have always had an unusual relationship. On paper, Mav is Hondo’s superior, and boss. These days, he rarely tells Hondo what to do, not out of any hesitation, but out of Hondo’s uncanny ability to predict what Mav needs. Technically, he could discipline Hondo, but the thought of it is laughable.
No, Mav has only been on the receiving end of discipline from Hondo, and he doesn’t see that changing anytime soon. It hadn’t taken more than six months of them working together for Hondo to first give Mav a good swat. Three months after that, Hondo spanked him for the first time when he’d done an unsanctioned maneuver on a test flight. Mav had tried to complain to Ice about it, but Ice just threw him over his knee and gave him another round. Mav later found out that Ice called Hondo into his office the next day to commend him and personally give him his blessing to discipline Mav as he saw fit. Bastard.
Mav knows that asking Hondo to paddle his pilots was risky, and trying to pull rank even riskier, but it isn’t like it was out of the realm of possibility. Hondo served as an assistant instructor for the Daggers for their original detachment, and has shown no difficulty in handing out a swat (or more) to the gaggle of officers who technically outrank him.
By the time they get to Mav’s office, he has half convinced himself that Hondo just wants to find out more details about the paddlings that Mav has asked him to give. A smaller, albeit more rational, part of him knows that’s nonsense, but he’s choosing to ignore that.
Hondo leans against Mav’s desk, fixing him a look that’s half concern, half exasperation. Mav’s seen that look before. “Alright, Mav, what’s going on?”
Mav briefly considers sticking to his story— that he’s got a full docket and couldn’t possibly find the time to dish out the paddling that he’d been ordered to–– but he knows Hondo will see right through him. Instead, he settles on the truth, hoping that Hondo will agree with him that Ice is making a mountain out of a molehill.
“So what I’m hearing,” Hondo says, “is that you made a mistake, Admiral Kazansky told you to fix it, and you thought it would be better to pawn it off on me?”
“Not pawn it off on you, exactly. Just…delegate.”
“Did Iceman tell you to delegate?”
“He didn’t specify,” Mav tries, “Just told me to get it done!”
Hondo pinches the bridge of his nose, and Mav isn’t sure if he is trying to keep from yelling or laughing. “I think we both know what Iceman meant by that. And I don’t think he would appreciate you trying to pull rank to get me to do your dirty work.”
“Technically, I didn’t pull rank! I just asked what would happen if I did.” Mav instantly regrets it as any amusement leaves Hondo’s face and is replaced with determination.
“Alright, that’s about enough,” Hondo says, taking hold of Mav’s arm and pulling him over his knee. His grip is relaxed and Mav could resist if he really wanted to, but he doesn’t. He knows better than to pull rank with Hondo over something like this. And besides, Ice would absolutely tear a strip off his ass if he put up a fight about this.
Without warning, Hondo’s hand comes down squarely across the seat of Mav’s uniform pants. He half wishes he was wearing his flight suit for a extra protection, but Hondo would’ve probably made him take it down. Ice certainly always did. Well, except one notable time where Mav was particularly insistent on keeping it up. Ice had acquiesced, put Mav over the desk and paddled him until he was wishing he’d just accepted the hand spanking over his shorts.
Despite only using his hand, Hondo’s swats hurt like a motherfucker, and Mav is reminded of the last time they were in this situation. Hondo had warned him not to take the jet past Mach 10, but, well, Mav just couldn’t resist. There hadn’t been much time to talk with Cain chewing him out and putting him on the road within the hour, but the next time he and Hondo had a private moment together, Mav had absolutely felt the man’s displeasure.
Hondo doesn’t lecture as he spanks, just brings his hand down firmly all over Mav’s ass. Mav wonders vaguely if Ice will take pity on him, but that idea quickly leaves his mind. There is no way in hell he’s telling Ice about this. When Hondo starts attacking his thighs, Mav wonders why he ever thought this was a good idea. “Alright, I get it! It was a dick move.”
“Good,” is all Hondo says in response, not pausing his swats for a moment. Mav needs to start thinking, and fast.
“I’ll paddle them and it’ll all be fine!” Mav insists, “And next time, I won’t try to make you do it!”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Hondo agrees, hand continuing to fall.
“And I’m sorry!” Mav can tell those are the magic words as Hondo moves to wrap up the spanking. Unfortunately, wrapping up the spanking means Hondo starts spanking harder and faster, aiming all of the smacks to the bottom of his butt where Mav sits down. Mav wants to believe that Hondo is a cruel bastard, but he knows he deserves this.
Finally, mercifully, Hondo stops. He pats Mav’s back a few times before letting him get to his feet. Mav eases himself up, giving his ass a rub to calm the worst of the sting. He should be embarrassed but he and Hondo have been through a lot together. And if it elicits a little sympathy from Hondo, that wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“You okay?” Hondo asks. Mav knows he already knows the answer, but still, he appreciates the ask.
“I’ll survive.” Mav says, trying to keep himself from pouting, “At least until Ice’s takes his paddle to me later. Uh, speaking of, d’ya think we can keep this between us?”
Honda laughs, clapping Mav on the shoulder. “Yeah, Mav, we can. But for your sake, I’d suggest you see to Bradley and Jake before Ice has to get on you about it.”
Mav gives Hondo a grin that he hopes Hondo finds charming, “And you’re sure you don’t want to do it for me?”
“Go on, get out of here before I put you back over my knee,” Hondo says, but with no real heat behind it.
“Hey, this is my office!” Mav tries to argue, but when Hondo takes a step towards him, he finds himself shuffling out of the office anyway.
There’s a rap on the open door and Mav waves Hangman and Rooster in. He’d found them in the mess and let them know that they were to come straight to his office after they finished eating. “Shut the door behind you.”
Rooster shoots him a questioning look but does as he’s asked, taking a seat in front of Mav’s desk.
“Something wrong, sir?” Hangman asks, taking the other seat.
“I’ve been ordered to paddle you two,” Mav says. There was no use beating around the bush. Both lieutenants look at each other and Mav can see the gears turning in their heads. “You two made a joke about skipping out on HACQ via the dead grandparent route with the wrong ensign. Kid tried it and word got back to Ice that he’d gotten the idea from you two.”
Hangman slumps back into his seat and stares up at the ceiling, “I’m gonna ring the kid’s neck.”
“You will do no such thing, Lieutenant,” Mav says, leveling Hangman with a hard look. He lets a lot of things slide— too many, Ice would argue— but retaliating against a junior officer was not something he would tolerate. Ever.
“Alright, alright,” Hangman says, putting his hands up in surrender.
“So how pissed was Ice?” Rooster asks, drumming his finger tips against the arm of the chair. Mav can hear the unspoken question. ‘Is Ice gonna want a piece of me outside of work?’
“I’d call it a three on his displeasure scale,” Mav says. He’s seen every level, including an 11, and this was pretty low down, especially for the younger men. His displeasure with Mav is probably higher, since, apparently, Mav is supposed to know better by now. “I don’t think he’ll want an additional word with you after I handle it.”
“I hate to break up the family bonding moment,” Hangman drawls, “But I feel the need to point out that we first heard this story from you, sir.”
“I’m well aware, Lieutenant,” Mav says, rubbing a hand over his face. “As is Admiral Kazansky. But that’s between me and him.”
Hangman looks like he wants to argue, but Rooster cuts in for him. “Understood, sir.”
“You sound just like your dad,” Mav laughs, remembering being in this position besides Goose all too often. “He saved me more than once when I was writing checks my ass couldn’t catch.” Pushing down the memories for now, Mav continues, “Speaking of, you two need to learn to pick your audience better. An ensign fresh out of the academy is not who you should be making jokes like that with.”
“Yes, sir,” Rooster says, “Where do you want us?”
Mav is momentarily surprised by Rooster’s easy compliance, but remembers that Bradley has always had a healthy fear of ‘Uncle Ice’s’ displeasure. Ice had been a loving father figure to Bradley, but he hadn’t played around with rules and consequences.
“Over the desk, side by side,” Mav says, pulling his paddle out of the drawer.
“Yes sir, “ Rooster says, standing up and assuming the position. Hangman is slower to obey, looking at Mav, then Rooster, then back at Mav. Finally, he gives a small nod and takes his place next to Rooster.
“Good,” Mav says. Ice probably would’ve made them drop their pants, but he hadn’t expressly ordered that, so they were staying up. Pulling the paddle out of his desk drawer, Mav hefts it in his hand. He never wanted to own one, but when he’d gotten his first command, Ice had insisted he buy one.
Lining up behind Bradley, Mav brings the paddle down firmly. He considers only giving them some half-assed swats, but he knows Ice would find out somehow. And, if he’s really being honest, they deserve this. Both kids need to learn about time, place, and audience before it messes with their careers.
Mav settles into a rhythm, bring delivering firm swats to his godson’s behind. Mav considers alternating between the two, but he decides that Hangman could use a little extra for his attitude. From extensive experience, he knows that getting your spanking after your buddy (or whatever Rooster is to Hangman), is awful. He had almost always been the instigator when he and Goose had been in trouble together, and as a result, was almost always made to go second. Whether he was bent over next to Goose, or standing in the corner waiting his turn, listening and knowing his ass was up next, was torture.
He delivers the paddling as fast as he thinks Rooster can take, knowing it’s a mercy to get it done with. Rooster is breathing hard when they’re done, but Mav knows he’s unshaken. “Okay, kid, we’re done.”
“Yes, sir,” Rooster says, shoulders slumping in relief. Mav leaves Rooster bent over and stands behind Hangman, bringing the paddle down without warning.
“Christ,” Hangman says, clearly surprised at the first swat. Mav doesn’t comment, just brings the paddle down again across Hangman’s backside. He reminds himself that he’s halfway done with this awful task, and that this is the easier half. He doesn’t enjoy paddling Hangman, not by a longshot, but it doesn’t carry the emotional weight that it does with Rooster.
Mav delivers the rest of the paddling methodically. Like with Rooster, he doesn’t lecture, just delivers the lesson with enough firmness to satisfy. When he gets halfway through, he can see Jake starting to bend his knees with each one to deal with the sting. By the time they’re done, the kid is gripping the desk with white knuckles. “Alright, you can both stand up.”
Bradley and Jake turn to face him, faces flushed but looking no worse for the wear. “Time and place, gentleman. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” both Lieutenants mumble.
“Alright, dismissed,” Mav says. While Hangman immediately retreats from the room, Bradley hangs around.
“You alright, kid?” Mav asked, immediately concerned that he missed something.
“Yeah, I just, uh, wanted to double check that I’m not in for it tonight,” Bradley says.
“Tonight?” Mav asks before realization dawns on him. It’s family dinner night. Fuck. “Ah, no I don’t think so. He might give you a lecture, but I think he’ll be over it by then.”
Mav loves family dinner night, loves having that time with Bradley every week, but he knows he’s just going to want to curl up and lick his wounds after Ice gets though with him. And Ice would almost certainly make them sit on the hard dining room chairs.
Rooster gives him a sympathetic smile. “You still on his shit list?”
“Unfortunately.”
Mav stalls as long as he can before making his way to Ice’s office. He considers not showing up at all, but he knows Ice would find him and the result wouldn’t be pretty. After his round with Hondo this morning, he’s not eager to earn himself any extra with Ice.
“Come in, Maverick,” Ice says as he’s hesitating outside the door. Despite his absolute reluctance to enter Ice’s office, he’s relieved that Ice is back to calling him ‘Maverick.’ ‘Mav’ would be better, but he’ll take what he can get. He’s less relieved to see that the paddle is already sitting out on the desk.
Giving him a nod, Mav shuffles in the room and shuts the door behind him. Ice nods toward the chair and he takes a seat, grateful that Ice isn’t making him stand at attention.
“I’ll make this brief so we’re not late for dinner,” Ice says, “Speaking of which, I invited Hondo to join us tonight.”
Mav sucks in a breath he hopes Ice doesn’t notice. “Any reason why?”
“Because I haven’t seen him in a while, and I’d like to catch up.” Ice studies him, his eyes narrowing as the wheels turn in his head. “Is there a reason you don’t want Hondo to come to dinner?”
“Of course not!” Mav says, voice coming out higher than expected. “I was just surprised is all.”
Ice looks distinctly unimpressed. “Alright, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing!”
“And Hondo will tell me the same thing?”
“Yes!” Mav knows Ice has him dead to rights now, but he can’t seem to give in and confess.
Ice, of course, knows exactly how to get the answer out of him. “Maverick, you and I both know you’re lying. So either you tell me what happened right now or you can wait in the corner while I call Hondo and get the answer from him. And trust me, you won’t enjoy what happens after that.”
Jesus, Ice, what kind of choice is that? Mav wishes the ground would just open up and swallow him whole. He hesitates for a moment before admitting, “I tried to get Hondo to paddle Rooster and Hangman.”
Ice sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair. “I thought it might be something like that.”
“But Hondo already whacked me for it, so it’s been taken care of.”
That, Ice didn’t seem to predict. “Hondo spanked you?”
“Yeah! And I didn’t even pull rank on him, I just—”
“Well I should certainly hope not,” Ice cuts in, fixing Maverick with a look that doesn’t bode well for him. “Because that would be an abuse of power.”
“I didn’t!” Mav insisted. Then in a smaller voice, “I just happened him what would happen if I ordered him to do it.”
“Pete Mitchell,” Ice says, each syllable slow and deliberate. “That is completely unacceptable.”
“Yeah, I know,” Mav admits, “I regretted it as soon as I said it. And Hondo made his displeasure loud and clear.”
“Well, he’s not the only one who’s displeased,” Ice says, taking a moment to think before he hands down Maverick’s sentence, “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. First, you’re going to bend over my desk for the paddling you earned. Once that’s done, you’re going to go over my lap while we discuss my displeasure at this situation in vivid detail. Then, when we go home for dinner, you’re going to apologize sincerely to Hondo for involving him in this.”
“I already apologized!”
“Then do it again. And I expect you to have a good attitude all through dinner. Don’t think I won’t swat you just because Bradley and Hondo are there.”
Mav flushes, knowing Ice absolutely would. Hell, he’s been swatted in front of Bradley more times than he can count, with Ice always insisting that the only thing he should be embarrassed about is his behavior.
“You know what to do,” Ice says. Mav stands and goes to bends over, but Ice stops him. “Since when do your pants stay up?”
“Well, I thought I was getting the same punishment as Bradley and Jake. I didn’t make them take their pants down,” Mav argues, quickly realizing that might have been a mistake. “Which you never said I had to!”
“No, I never said you had to. But you better have given them each a proper paddling,” Ice says, raising an eyebrow.
“I did!” Mav absolutely does not want to get in any more more trouble. “I swear.”
“Alright, I believe you,” Ice says, “But you aren’t getting the same luxury. You should know better than to make light of insubordination to those under your command. Now, drop your pants before I give you some help.”
Mav gulps at that. Ice’s brand of help either includes some extra swats or Ice pulling Mav’s pants down himself, both of which Mav very much wants to avoid. Resisting the urge to squirm under Ice’s steady gaze, Mav unbuttons his pants and lets them fall to his ankles. He gives Ice one last imploring look— he knows it won’t change anything but makes him feel better— before bending over the desk.
Ice’s hand resting lightly on his back is the only warning Mav gets before the paddle smacks down hard against his ass. The first one always takes his breath away, especially when Ice is paddling him without any warm up. He forces himself to stay in position as Ice finds a steady rhythm, paddling Mav’s ass with precision.
Mav can tell that Ice is swinging harder than usual. Ice uses the paddle to finish up most spankings he gives Mav, but— despite how it feels at the time–– he pulls his strength significantly. When Mav is bent over like this, it feels like Ice is determined to make the paddle sail right through him and hit the desk on the other side
“Jesus fuck,” Maverick mutters under his breath eventually. He’s lost count but he’s pretty sure Ice has to have given him a few hundred by now. It feels like that at least. Ice really knows how to make a paddling count.
When Ice finally stops, Mav is panting hard. He stays bent over while he catches his breath, waiting for Ice to give him permission to stand up.
“I trust we understand each other now?”
“Yes, sir,” Maverick says emphatically, “I get it. I’ll keep the reminiscing between us.”
“Good,” Ice says, “You can stand up.”
Mav rises stiffly, his ass throbbing in time with his heart. He wants nothing more than to fall into Ice’s waiting arms and complain about how much the paddle hurt, but he knows he still has a ways to go. He doesn’t even bother pulling his pants back up, just kicks them off completely.
“Those can come down too,” Ice says, pulling an armless chair from the desk and sitting down. Mav can feel his face flush. He figured his shorts would be coming down eventually, but having to pull them down himself is true psychological warfare. Just barely resisting the urge to glare at Ice, he shoves his underwear down to his knees.
Ice pats his thigh and Mav sighs, shuffling over and laying over his husband’s lap. He hates how familiar he is with this position after three decades of getting his ass handed to him. One of these days Mav’s going to learn some self preservation, he’s sure of it.
“Why are we here?” Ice asks, patting Maverick’s backside in warning.
“I asked Hondo to deliver the paddlings for me,” Mav says. A hard swat cracks down on his thigh and he knows Ice isn’t pleased with that answer. “And I tried to pull rank when he said no.”
“You did,” Ice says, bringing his hand down firmly against Mav’s left cheek. A matching one lands on the right, “And I don’t think I have to tell you how unacceptable that is.”
If Mav was allowed to gamble, he’d put down money that Ice was going to tell him anyway. He keeps that thought to himself, though, as Ice starts spanking full force. All of the soreness from the paddle is reawakened and Mav feels like kicking out to deal with the sting. He settles for digging the balls of his feet into the floor.
“If I had only wanted Bradley and Jake to be paddled,” Ice begins, “I would have just done it myself. But seeing to them was part of your punishment.”
Mav winces. He’d known it at the time, but hearing it spelled out for him was never fun. He wants to argue, but knows he has nothing to say in his defense.
“And even if it weren’t, responsibility for disciplining your team falls to you, not Hondo. He is a Chief Warrant Officer, not your personal assistant.”
“I know that,” Mav insists. And he does. He respects the work that Hondo does, and knows he shouldn’t ask (or worse, order) Hondo to do things just because he doesn’t want to. And even if he hadn’t before this morning, Hondo had made that quite clear.
“Then start showing it,” Ice replies, moving his hand down to target Maverick’s thighs. They’ve had the conversation before about Mav showing his contrition through his behavior, not just with words, and Mav always insists he’ll shape up. Ice, on the other hand, has no problem showing his displeasure with both his words and his actions.
Ice quickens his pace then, and Maverick has to grab onto Ice’s ankle to deal with the rising sting. He can feel his eyes start to prickle and each swat elicits a gasp from him. Ice’s palm feels like a brick against his already sore ass. By the time Ice finishes, Mav is squirming for all he’s worth, desperate to get off of Ice’s lap and put this whole miserable experience behind him.
“Alright, we’re done,” Ice says, rubbing Mav’s back.
“I’m sorry!” Mav sniffs. It wasn’t all that severe of a spanking, but after the paddling, and the punishment from Hondo earlier, he is more than ready for this day to be over.
“I know, Mav. Just try to think before you run your mouth, okay?”
“‘Okay,” Mav says, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before pushing himself off of Ice’s lap. He reaches down to grab his discarded underwear and pants, grimacing as it stretches his overheated skin tight. He dresses quickly, wanting to have two layers of protection on his ass before he inevitably says something else smart and gets himself swatted.
As soon as Ice opens his arms, Mav falls into them. Despite being absolutely scared shitless of his husband’s displeasure at times, there is also no one in the world Mav feels safer with. He buries deeper into the embrace and sniffles. “That hurt!”
“It was supposed to,” Ice laughs. He’s said this to Mav many times, and the routine is almost comforting, although Mav would never admit it. “Now, let’s go home before we leave Hondo and Bradley waiting on us.”
“About that…”
“Maverick,” Ice says warningly. “Dinner is happening.”
“No, not that,” Mav hurries to say. He certainly wants to ask Ice to postpone but he knows there’s little chance of that happening. “I just wanted to ask if you’re planning to have a word with the kid?”
Ice gives him a look that’s half fondness, half exasperation “Are you asking if I’m going to talk to him, or if I’m going to put him over my knee?”
Mav glares at him. “Either.”
“Talk to him, yes.” Ice says, “Spank him, no, not unless he gives me an attitude.”
“He won’t!”
Ice smirks. “You’re probably right. He’s not you.”
Mav shows what he thinks of that with a one-finger salute, and isn’t surprised to feel a mild swat land square across his backside.
Hondo is the first to arrive for dinner, and thank god for that. Apologizing to Hondo is going to be miserable enough; Mav doesn’t need an audience.
Ice leaves to uncork the wine Hondo brought, giving Mav a not-so-subtle look as he goes. Hondo raises an eyebrow.
“Uh, Ice may have found out about what happened between us earlier.”
“Ah.”
“And, well, he was even less happy than you were,” Mav admits, hoping Hondo doesn’t ask for any details. “And honestly, I’m not too happy with myself. It was a shitty thing to do, and I’m really sorry.”
“Water under the bridge,” Hondo says, “How’d he find out?”
“I’m a terrible liar, apparently.”
“You are,” Hondo agrees. “You get in a lot of extra trouble with him?”
Always with the impeccable timing, Ice walks back in. “Yes, we had a nice long talk about it, didn’t we, Maverick?”
“We did,” Mav agrees, though he wishes the ground would just swallow whole right there.
“And if this ever happens again, please don’t hesitate to call me,” Ice says, twisting the knife further.
Hondo laughs. “Oh if this happens again, I’ll be borrowing that paddle Mav’s always griping about.”
“You two are the worst!”
Apparently content that he’s been menaced enough, Hondo and Ice drop the subject for the moment. They catch up with one another while Mav nods in a way that he hopes comes off as attentive and tries not to squirm. Their couch is soft, but right now anything against his ass reignites the soreness.
When Bradley lets himself in the front door, Ice goes to meet him. Maverick says a silent prayer that Ice will keep the lecture short, and that Bradley won’t sass him. Hondo says something, but Mav doesn’t catch it, straining to listen.
“Uh hey, Ice,”
“Bradley,” Ice says, his tone serious but not unkind.
“I know, I know, I messed up,” Rooster says, “Mav made that point clear.”
“I should certainly hope he did. I know you and Seresin were just messing around, but you don’t want to get a reputation for being a bad influence on ensigns.”
“Yes, sir. I know. ”
“Good, because if this happens again, you and I will be having our own conversation, understood?”
Mav doesn’t need to see to know that Rooster is squirming at that. Or, at least, Mav certainly would be. “Yes, sir.”
Ice’s tone softens considerably. “Good, let’s go have some dinner.”
When they come into the living room, Mav tries to make like he wasn’t eavesdropping, but a smirk from Ice tells him he’s not convincing. Ice claps his hands together. “Alright, let’s eat. I had planned to cook, but we were a little delayed leaving work today, so we picked up pizza on the way home.”
“Y’know, since we’re having pizza,” Mav tries, “We might as well eat in here. Much more comfortable than the dining room.”
“Nice try,” Ice says, rolling his eyes. “You’re not that sore.”
Despite everyone in the room already knowing to some degree that he’d been punished, Mav still flushes at that. “Ice!”
Hondo grins at him. “Should I get you a pillow for your chair, Captain?”
“I’ll kill you in your sleep,” Mav says, only half meaning it. He trudges along behind Ice into the dining room, making every effort not to wince as he lowers himself into his chair. Glancing at Bradley, he’s relieved to see the kid isn’t having any trouble sitting down. Well, mostly relieved. Misery loves company.
“None of your friends joining us tonight, Bradley?” Ice asks once they’re all settled.
Bradley gives a rueful smile. “I asked around and they all said something along the lines of ‘hell no. Actually, I believe Hangman’s exact words were ‘while I’d love to see you get chewed out by your Uncle Tommy, I’m going to steer clear of that clusterfuck.”
Ice hums. “Uncle Tommy, huh? I may need to have a conversation about respect with Lieutenant Seresin in the near future.”
Mav knows from Ice’s tone that he’s not serious, but Bradley lights up all the same. “Oh god, please let me watch!”