The Better Wingman

Summary: Set after the events of Top Gun: Maverick. Rooster and Hangman figure things out
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers for both Top Gun movies; references to canon character death; AU; sexual content between two men
Pairing: Rooster/Hangman

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Rooster looked around at all of his friends, teachers, comrades. He still almost couldn’t believe that they’d all managed to make it out alive. That they’d succeeded in the mission. That he’d been involved, in spite of his certainty that Maverick would choose Hangman as his wingman. Because for all Hangman left his wingman and took dangerous, reckless chances, he was enough like Mav that they should have been perfect working together. And even in the end, Hangman had done the right thing and saved Rooster and Mav in the nick of time.

Now, they were celebrating in Penny’s bar. Several rounds of drinks had been had by all there, but Rooster was only pleasantly buzzed. He hadn’t reached his limit yet.

Hangman was missing from the revelry, though.

Frowning and wondering just why he was missing the insufferably cocky man, Rooster sidled over to Mav’s side. “Why’d you pick me?” He had to shout to be heard over the noise of the crowd.

Mav raised his beer in a salute and drained half of it. “You were the best.”

“Bullshit.” Rooster shook his head. “Hangman’s a hell of a lot faster than me. And he’s more like you than I’ll ever be.”

“What makes you think being like me is a good thing?” Mav returned. “I break the rules. Got myself grounded more times than I can count. Only reason I’m still here is because of Ice.”

Rooster frowned and took a closer look at Mav, taking in the slightly flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Lost count somewhere back around the tenth.” Mav shrugged and drained the rest of his beer, then reached for the new glass someone-Rooster didn’t see who-placed in front of him.

Rooster took the glass from his hand. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“You gonna toss me out on my ass?” Mav’s smile lacked any sort of humour to it as he added, “You’ll need some help.”

“No. But I think maybe it’s time you went home.” Rooster wrapped an arm around the older man’s shoulders. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

“Perfectly capable of driving myself,” Mav muttered, even as he listed into Rooster.

“Yeah. I’ll let you do that in the morning, when you come pick up your bike.” Rooster felt Mav lean heavily on him as he led the older man out of the bar, heading towards his own car that was parked just outside the building.

“You need help?”

Rooster paused at the familiar voice and his eyes sought out Hangman, who was leaning against his car. “Thought you’d be in the bar celebrating with the rest of us.”

“I thought we should talk.” Hangman stepped away from the car. “But maybe it could wait until tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to drive me back to Top Gun,” Mav said. “I’m old enough to look after myself.”

Hangman walked over to the other side of Mav, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We taking him back to Top Gun?” he asked Rooster.

“Yeah.” Rooster hesitated, only speaking when they reached the car and he opened the back door so that they could help Mav into the back. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said to Hangman. “You’re right. We need to talk.”

Mav snorted softly. “You sound like Ice. Telling me that.” He got into the backseat and leaned back, closing his eyes.

Hangman straightened and glanced towards Rooster. “You planning to yell at me?”

Rooster shook his head. “Not my style.” He nodded towards the car. “Get in.”

For a moment, it looked like Hangman was going to refuse. Like he’d walk away. Finally, he got into the passenger seat of the car and put his seatbelt on. “You yelled at me before,” he muttered.

“Yeah? Well, you were trying to piss me off.” Rooster got in the driver’s seat and closed the door. He put his own seatbelt on and put the car into gear, driving back to Top Gun.

There was no conversation during the drive. Hangman stared out of the window and for all Rooster knew, Mav was sleeping. He took advantage of the drive back to let himself think about what he wanted to say to Hangman. How he wanted to handle things between them. Yeah, Mav had told him to stop thinking. To just react. But Rooster couldn’t apply that to the situation between him and Hangman.

By the time they got to Top Gun, Rooster was no closer to a decision about what to do about the situation between him and Hangman. Once they were inside, he turned to Mav, planning to walk the older man to his room.

“Yeah, I can make it from here.” Mav looked between Rooster and Hangman, opening his mouth like he was planning to say something. Instead, he shook his head and walked away, heading to his own room.

Rooster took a deep breath and turned to Hangman. “You know, it’s late. Maybe we’d be better off talking in the morning.”

“I thought you’d stopped overthinking everything.”

Rooster paused. Hesitated. Looked into Hangman’s eyes for a few moments before he nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered. He turned to head towards his own room, hyper-aware of how close Hangman was to him; close enough that he could feel the other man’s breath on the back of his neck. By the time they reached his room, Rooster felt on edge. Nervous, even. He hesitated briefly before opening the door and stepping inside, then turned to face Hangman.

The other man stepped forward, into Hangman’s personal space, and kissed him.

Rooster’s eyes opened wide at the pressure of lips against his. The kiss was rough. Hard. Almost demanding. Their bodies pressed together and Rooster could feel Hangman’s hard muscles, even through two sets of clothing. He could feel Hangman’s erection, pressing against his own groin.

He pulled back, panting a little, the taste of Hangman on his lips. His cheeks felt hot and flushed and his pants were too tight. “What are you doing?”

“You need me to draw you a map?” Hangman responded. “I’d have thought what I was doing was obvious.”

“You want to fuck me?” Rooster shook his head. “Who says I’d let you? Especially after you tried to make me wipe out.”

“That was nothing personal.”

“No.” There was a hollow pit inside Rooster’s gut as he continued, “Nothing ever is personal with you, is it, Hangman? If your wingman can’t keep up with you, you leave them behind. But it’s nothing personal. Just that they can’t keep up with you.”

Hangman stared at him, his expression unreadable, before he finally said, “I came and saved you. You and Maverick both. I didn’t have to do that.”

“So, what? You’re telling me I owe you?” Rooster laughed bitterly. “I should have decked you when you brought up my dad.”

“You want to hit me?” Hangman watched him. “Go ahead. If that’s what you want. If it’s what you need to get past this.” He held his hands out to either side. “I won’t fight back.”

Rooster could still taste the other man on his lips. His erection, which should have gone down, was straining against his pants. Hangman was offering him power; was offering him control. And Rooster was going to take it.

A tiny smirk played around Hangman’s lips as Rooster stepped closer to him. That smirk faded and his eyes narrowed in surprise when Rooster grasped his upper arm. But he didn’t argue. Didn’t protest as Rooster continued walking, leading him over to the bed. He only balked when Rooster sat and prepared to pull him across his knees. “I’m not a child.”

“You want to get past this?” Rooster returned. “You want to fuck me? Or for me to fuck you? I’m not doing anything while I’m still pissed at you for bringing up my dad and doing everything possible to make me quit. Mav might be reckless as hell, but he never left his wingman behind.” He paused. Then, when Hangman didn’t speak, he continued, “Of course, the door’s right there. Feel free to walk out and we’ll go back to how things were.”

“Fuck.” Hangman shook his head. His fingers went to his pants and he shoved them down, then quickly stepped to Rooster’s side, all but throwing himself over Rooster’s knees.

To say he was surprised would be an understatement. Rooster hadn’t expected Hangman to submit. He slowly rested his hand on the other man’s back, able to feel the tension in the muscles. He cleared his throat as he moved his hand a little lower, resting on Hangman’s bottom. “Okay. We do this and then move past it. Clean slate.”

“Clean slate.” Hangman’s voice was a little rueful as he added, “Can’t promise I won’t be an asshole still, though.”

Rooster snorted softly at that. “Wouldn’t be you if you stopped being a total asshole.” He rubbed his hand over Hangman’s backside for a few moments, then tugged the boxers down to join his pants.

The crack of the first smack to bare flesh filled the room and caused a slightly pink handprint to form on Hangman’s left cheek. The other man stiffened slightly, but didn’t fight or resist as Rooster continued to swat firmly, turning the entire bottom from the crest down to mid-thigh a uniform pink. And then he started over from the top.

As Rooster began to cover skin that had already received attention, Hangman started to shift slightly. His body jerked when his thighs received more attention and a soft whimper escaped him when Rooster began smacking again from the top for a third time, turning Hangman’s backside a darker pink, shading to red in parts. “I’m sorry.” His voice hitched a little.

Staring at the back of Hangman’s head, Rooster said quietly, “Apologising won’t mean anything if you don’t change your behaviour.” His palm was beginning to sting from the swats he was giving out and he paused, letting his hand rest on Hangman’s bottom and beginning to rub it.

Hangman’s groan was low and drawn out. “You keep rubbing me like that and I’m gonna forget you’re punishing me.”

Rooster let his other hand rest on Hangman’s lower back as he resumed swatting, this time going a bit harder and faster. “I’m willing to give you another chance, Hangman. I’m willing to see where things go between us. But you’d better not make me regret it.”

“I won’t.” Hangman’s voice was strained. “I won’t let you regret it. Let you regret taking a chance on me.” His body slumped over Rooster’s lap.

Rooster could hear the tears, even though they were quiet. His hand came to a rest on Hangman’s bottom, rubbing a few moments before he carefully helped the other man up. As they stood face to face, he leaned forward and kissed Hangman, hard. He could taste the salt from the tears on his lips.

Hangman kissed back hard, almost desperately. When they broke for air, he gasped out, “Fuck me.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Rooster grabbed Hangman’s hips and pulled the other man down with him onto the bed.

Finally, this felt okay. More than okay. It felt right.

The End