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Most mornings they don’t have time for this. The lazy cuddling in warm, warm sheets. Breakfast in bed. Whispering sweet nothings and kissing sticky syrup off of kiss-swollen lips.
They don’t get to have that when they work for the Navy. Most mornings they need to report to duty bright and early, or they don’t even get to spend mornings together because they’re stationed across the world from one another.
But this is the first morning they get to themselves since months apart on different ships. It just so happens they’re both on leave. They’re even luckier that it lands on Valentine’s Day. They didn’t get to spend it together last year, or the year before, but now Tom gets to treat Pete to a wonderful day filled with love. They can do the slow and sweet morning along with spending the day embraced in each other’s arms.
Kissing Pete awake seems to be his first plan. He let him sleep in till almost 10, letting his sweet fiancé rest after the night they spent together. Tom always enjoyed that first night when they finally got back together. He took Pete apart methodically, savoring each lovely sound and the way his body opened up for him so beautifully. Then he fucked him into the mattress until his toes were pointed, his back arched, his voice was strained, and he was cumming filthily between them. Welcome home sex might just be his favorite kind.
“Come on, baby,” Tom cooed, kissing the corner of his mouth and then the scrunched tip of his nose. “Wake up for me. I wanna see your pretty eyes, sweetheart. Cuddle with me and then I’ll make you breakfast in bed.”
Pete opens one eye, squinting up at Tom, “French Toast? With syrup?”
Tom rolls his eyes adoringly. His heart is too full, knowing his fiancé way too well. He’d already stocked the house with all of the things he knew Pete loved to eat before he picked him up at the airport yesterday. Pete says he loves the way Tom made them with cinnamon and how he crisped the edges just right. Tom knows it’s just because he doesn’t want to cook, but he doesn’t mind. Pete burns everything anyway.
He presses a light kiss to Pete’s slack lips, pulling back with a grin, “Only if you come cuddle me first. You can’t go back to sleep though. Only good boys who stay awake get French Toast,” he hums, grin turning into his famous smirk.
“Keep calling me that and cuddling won’t be all we’re doing,” Pete jokes, scooching closer as his palm comes up to press against Tom’s stubbled cheek. “Then I’ll really be awake.”
The implication is enough to get Tom’s cock twitching awake. They’re still naked and Pete’s skin against his is so soft and warm. A foot rubs against his calf, teasing. He wonders if Pete would be open to a lazy morning fuck. He’s always a lot more pliant when he’s tired, letting Tom fuck his thighs or suck his dick when it’s only half-hard.
“Would you be up for that?” His eyebrow raises, crystal blue eyes darting over Pete’s face as his lips smack together and his eyelids flutter, blinking the sleep away. He’s so angelic in the morning that Tom could cry.
“I’m still open from last night,” Pete mumbles instead of an answer. Tom can see the spark of desire behind his green eyes as he stares up at him.
He grabs Pete’s waist, squeezing lightly, before trailing further down until his fingers brush the swell of his ass. Pete is so much warmer here as he trails his fingertips towards his opening. He’s still slightly wet with lube and Tom’s cum, only slightly gaping. Two fingers slip in past the knuckles and he watches as Pete’s eyes close again and how his face falls into a blissful expression, only sighing happily through parted pink lips. He’ll need to be fingered for a bit again, but Tom is in no rush to get inside of him. He’s happy to enjoy the act of stretching him out again until Pete is begging for it.
“Ah, Ice,” he moans out, hips stuttering forward. His cock nudges against Tom’s stomach and he can already feel the precum beading at his tip. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah? Bet I could just slip right back in. Fucked you so good last night that you’re already craving more? Should’ve known. You’re insatiable, baby.”
Pete only nods as he pushes back onto Tom’s fingers, letting them slip further inside. He’s all molten heat here, clenching down as Tom crooks his fingers to rub gently at his swollen walls. The whimper Tom receives in return is music to his ears. A sound he always craves to hear when they’re in the throes of passion. It’s delightfully sweet sounding and always drags out into a whine of his name, begging and pleading for more.
“Fuck me, Ice. I’m good, c’mon.”
“Let me get a third finger in you and then I’m all yours, Mav,” Tom promises.
He removes his fingers to tug Pete’s thigh over his hip, spreading him wider. It also brings them closer together, cocks rubbing gently against each other as their legs interlock. He quickly dips his fingers back in between Pete’s ass cheeks, scissoring his fingers wide as he thrusts languidly inside of him. Pete seals their lips together, the first real kiss of the morning. Morning breath be damned as they lick into each other’s mouths. Their tongues tangle as Pete’s hand moves to Tom’s hair, grabbing at the short blond strands as best as he can.
They’re both moaning into one another’s lips and grinding against each other. Tom’s fingers find his prostate and pet against that sweet spot relentlessly, causing Pete’s head to tip back slightly. Tom presses open-mouthed kisses to his chin instead, enjoying the scratch of stubble against his lips.
“Right there, oh God, Ice,” Pete moans loudly, his hole squeezing down. “Give me another finger, please.”
Tom complies, tucking a third finger inside of him along the two. His rim loosens with only a little resistance, welcoming Tom in. Pete’s body always opens up for him so easily. Almost like they were meant for each other. It’s like each time they fuck, Tom carves a deeper spot inside of him that calls him home.
“Always so good for me, sweetheart,” Tom pants, tucking his face into Pete’s throat so he can nip at the skin there. He won’t leave a mark even if he wants to. They only have a week before they have to be apart again. “I’m so lucky to have you like this. Always so pretty, especially like this.”
Pete whines, his thigh squeezing at his hip, the heel of his foot nudging at his ass to push them closer together. He's always so desperate for it. Tom goes dizzy with it each time, still in shock that beautiful Pete Mitchell, wildcard Maverick, wants him. He’d already been so in love before they even fell into bed together that he wanted to shake Pete and ask why. Why Tom when he could have anyone? When he has the option of falling for a girl?
“I’ve got you, Mav. My beautiful Mav. So happy that I get to wake up to you. Even happier I get to have you like this for the rest of our lives. I love you.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Pete chants, helping Tom roll onto his back so he can straddle him. Tom’s fingers slip out easily, both of his hands coming to rest at the dip in Pete’s waist. “Need you in me now, Ice.”
Pete grinds down onto him, his ass rubbing against Tom’s leaking cock and letting it drag slowly against where he’s open and waiting — calling Tom home.
Tom brings a hand down to tap two fingers against Pete’s thigh, “Lift up for me, baby.”
Pete does as asked, always so quick to obey when Tom asks. Tom grabs ahold of his cock, lining the tip up with the edge of Pete’s rim. The heat radiates off of him. Tom already knows how delicious it feels to be inside of him and he can feel his mouth fill with saliva at the thought of sinking deep inside of his hot, tight, little hole.
Pete sinks down without question or prodding, head thrown back as the head easily pops in. They’re both groaning as he sinks further, pulling Tom’s cock into him. He’s so wet inside still, making Tom’s brain go slightly fuzzy at the edges. He’s fucking stale lube and his cum back into him. It should probably be gross, but it might just be the hottest thing in his eyes. He always enjoys eating his cum from Pete’s abused ass, licking into him, and hearing the wrecked and oversensitive whines. But this is new. Fucking his messy and loose hole might be his new favorite pastime.
“So good, baby,” Tom moans, his hands steady on Pete’s waist. “You’re doing so good for me.”
He’s reaching so deep inside as Pete seats himself fully on his cock. His dick twitches where it’s lodged inside of him, Pete’s rim fluttering around him in response. Pete’s head lolls on his shoulders, sighing out his contentment. His green eyes sparkle as he stares down at Tom. The light from late morning surrounds him as it shines through the window, making him look even more angelic than Tom earlier thought. His skin is tanned from months away on a ship, highlighting the contours of his muscles. He looks as if he’s glowing.
“Tom,” Pete rasps, his hips rolling so that Tom’s cock drags against his tender walls. “You always feel so good inside of me. You fuck me so good, honey. Always so good to me.”
Tom fucks up into him lazily, wanting to be deeper. Craving the feeling of Pete’s body swallowing him in. They continue like that, Tom fucking up into him and Pete grinding down to meet him halfway. It’s slow yet needy from both sides. They both have the same end goal, but they aren’t rushing. They have the morning to just take in each other’s body. To cherish the moment of making love.
Tom has the rest of the day to make him French Toast, to give him his Valentine’s Day present, to cuddle up next to him and watch a movie. This is more important. To feel close to the man he’s so deeply in love with the intimate knowledge of his body.
Pete crumbles forward, hands flat on Tom’s chest as he lifts himself up just to slam back down. The angle has Tom’s cock bumping against his prostate and both of them make loud sounds of pleasure as Pete does it again. He knows he’s getting closer by the minute as their movements turn sloppy and wild. He wraps his hand around Pete’s cock, stroking him loosely and collecting his precum to make the glide easier. He always gets so wet, his pretty pink cock slick and dripping at the smallest of touches and a few dirty kisses. Tom’s perfect boy.
“Always so wet for me,” Tom praises, thumbing under the head and pressing along the vein there. “You’re so perfect. My sweet Mav.”
“‘M close, Ice,” Pete cries out as his fingers scratch over Tom’s chest. Tom tightens his fist, twisting his wrist as he strokes up and down over him. “Ah, yes, yes!”
Pete slams down once more, grinding Tom’s cock into him. Tom feels his walls squeeze around him obscenely as he watches Pete’s cock spurt over his fingers. He feels it jerk in his fist as white paints his abdomen. Tom fucks up into him harder, chasing his own release. He relishes in the fluttering of Pete’s overworked hole as it clenches and unclenches until he’s spilling deep inside of him. His moans tangle together with Pete’s as he cums, filling the room with melodic sounds.
“So good,” Tom slurs, “So fucking good each time, sweetheart.”
Tom rolls them onto their sides, his cock slipping free as they huddle into each other’s arms. He knows his cum is spilling out of Pete and onto the bed and that they’ll have to do a load of laundry in a bit, but being chest to chest, stomach to stomach, thigh to thigh is the best feeling in the world. Their lips brush delicately, but they don’t kiss, only breathing into each other’s mouths as they share inhales and exhales of air.
He will make the French Toast whenever his legs don’t feel like jello. Right now, he’s going to soak up all of Pete’s after-sex clinginess. Tom wraps his arms around Pete’s back, scratching light circles on his heated skin. Pete’s fingers rub at Tom’s biceps, massaging his muscles with a tender touch. It’s the closest they can without physically being inside of each other. And it’s perfect.
“I’ve missed this,” Tom admits quietly. He loves his job, but more than anything, he misses Pete when they have to be apart. “Not just the sex, but this specifically. It’s hard waking up alone when I know how it feels to wake up with you in my arms.”
Pete sighs mournfully, his hands squeezing at Tom’s arms, “Me too. I wake up every day wishing I had you with me. It’d be so much easier if you were stationed with me… even if we couldn’t be like this. I just want to walk into the mess hall in the mornings and know you’re there.”
Pete sniffles and Tom’s heart breaks slightly.
“I love flying. You know I would never give it up… but some days I think about it. I think about Goose and my dad and how I might turn out, and then I think about being so far away from you and it’s hard. It’s so hard, Ice. But then I remember that I am meant to be in the air. I am meant to do this. Who am I if not Maverick? Flying is the one thing that makes me who I am.”
Which Tom knows. He knows how much this means to Pete. He knows that if someone took away flying from Pete, it’d be comparable to someone cutting a limb off. He does not know Pete Mitchell without Maverick. They are one in the same and Tom respects that just as much as he loves him. There is one thing Tom would never try to do and that’s separate Pete from the Navy.
“What if I told you that soon we won’t have to worry about this,” Tom says, so quietly and soft-spoken. Almost as if he’s telling a secret. “There’s word that I’ll be working back on the ground soon. I’m almost done with my command tour and they want to make me Captain soon. They want me here, talking up the Admirals and higher-ups so that I can move quickly in the ranks. They said I have real potential as a leader, Mav.”
Pete blinks at him as he moves his head back to look into his eyes. It’s calculating and wary. Tom swallows down the lump in his throat as Pete frowns.
“But you love to fly,” Pete says.
“I do,” Tom confirms, nodding, “but I love you more. I want more time with you here. If I go up in the ranks that means I can be home a lot more when you get off your tour and then I’ll have the power to suggest you closer to me whenever I have to go somewhere else. You’ll always be able to fly if I have something to say about it, Mav. Always. I’m happy to support your dream because I know I will survive without it.”
He sighs heavily, “I don’t know if you would though. You need to be up there doing the one thing that keeps you going. And I need to be down here making sure you stay where you need to be. I am nothing without you, Pete Mitchell.”
He watches as Pete’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, the green looking brighter than ever before he’s suddenly being kissed deeply. There’s no tongue and no teeth, just their lips moving together in a meaningful kiss. A kiss full of love, acceptance, and admiration.
“Lucky me,” Pete muses, breaking away to smile at Tom. “I have the most supportive fiancé that I could ever ask for. Is this my Valentine’s Day present? You being the best future husband ever?”
Tom laughs, kissing Pete’s cheek and nuzzling his skin, “No, you’ve got something waiting for you downstairs. The classics of course. Chocolate, roses, a new watch,” he punctuates each present with a kiss, trailing closer to his lips.
“I don’t need a new watch,” Pete protests, already smiling into the kiss Tom is pressing into his lips. He bites Tom’s plush bottom lip just to be a brat.
Tom loves him anyway.
It’s the best Valentine’s Day they spend together. Even when they’re married and older, their hair greying at the edges, they still reminisce about it. It’s the most tame Valentine’s Day ever, but they remember the way they made love, the way they had to really change the sheets as Pete accidentally dumped his whole plate of French Toast onto the bed, and how they watched the movie ‘Ghost’ on the couch until Pete cried.
And when people ask why, the answer is simple.
“Why?” Jake inquires one day as they sit on the back porch with glasses of sweet tea. Bradley and him finally together after all the years of squabbling and posturing back and forth. “Why is that the best Valentine’s Day you’ve spent together? I don’t get it.”
Tom looks at Pete, his gaze soft as he watches Pete smile.
“It was the day I knew I was marrying the right person,” Pete responds before looking over at Tom. “The day I knew Ice was my soulmate.”
“That’s cheesy,” Bradley snorts off to the side, his arm around Jake’s shoulder. “He says that every time.”
Tom ignores them, smiling back at Pete, “And I stand by everything I said that day.”
Tom watches as the crinkles by Pete’s eyes deepen as his smile widens. He made the right choice. Pete is better than anything.
Including flying.