Top Gun: You Can Be My Wingman (Maverick X Reader)

Briefing.

Sweat coats my brow as we sit in the overheated briefing room, my uniform sticking to my skin a little as we wait for the last of the aviators to enter the room, the commander at the front eyeing us warily. Beside me, Hawk shifts uncomfortably in his seat, drawing my attention to him, again.

"Jeez, Oli, sit still!" I scold him, grinning at the unhappy look on his face, the RIO clearly as bored as the rest of us.

"Sorry, I just can't get comfortable, we've been sat here for hours!"

"No, we've been sat here for ten minutes." I correct him, looking over my shoulder at Maverick, who smirks at me when I roll my eyes, the pilot seated behind me with Merlin, who is slouched in his chair, posture totally relaxed until the commander suddenly slams a book on the table at the front of the room, drawing our attention.

"Aviators, you have been called here at this hour to discuss a serious problem that has come to light." He starts, voice stern as he eyes us all, fingers running over a sheet of paper on the table, "Recently, we have become aware of a number of enemy aircrafts circling the region around the Lexington, which have shown no signs of attacking, but have instead been leading patrolling pilots around, only leaving when backup is brought in. As of yet, there is no explanation as to why, so this means we'll need to increase the amount of patrols and stay alert to any possible threats from these bogeys."

A low groan fills the room as we all slouch in unison, knowing full well this means more hours in the air, stuck in the sweltering confines of a cockpit. A wry smile makes its way onto the commander's face, lips twitching a little at the corners as he takes this in, shaking his head at our reluctance.

"These patrols start from now, so you better suck it up. Our first flyers will be Stalker, Maverick, Iceman, Quicksilver, Barracuda and their RIOs, so the rest of you are dismissed. You will be called when needed."

Dread rises in me at the thought, more annoyed at having to fly with Barracuda seeing as he still can't accept me as a good pilot. A couple of sniggers draw my attention to said aviator, the brunette smirking at me from across the room as his RIO laughs beside him, obviously having just made a joke at my expense. Frowning, I ignore them, turning instead to face the commander again, choosing not to rise to the bait. Beside me, I feel Hawk shift to see what has caused my body to suddenly tense up, a sigh escaping him as he recognises the rude aviators across from us.

"Just ignore them." He hisses to me, keeping his eyes on the front of the room as he does so.

"Trying to."

"You are to treat this patrol as you would any other, but if you should come across any enemy aircrafts, follow them further than normal, and report back any findings." The commander informs us, before dismissing us with a hand signal, allowing us to leave and head to the changing rooms, all of us in moderate quiet as we try to think over the new information. Only Barracuda and Wasp make any noise, talking loudly amongst themselves, a few words of their conversation directed at us.

"...be better off with a group of apes flying their planes instead of them. Then we might get a decent conversation out of them." Barracuda's oily tone remarks, the jibe clearly aimed at us to get a rise out of us. Stiffening, I clench my jaw as I try to remain complacent, my expression turning cold at the attitude of our wingman.

"Are they always like this?" Maverick asks me, nudging my arm a little as he tries to cheer me up, grinning at my angered face.

"Yep, always have been." I respond, not quite able to stop the smile that forms on my lips as Pete wraps his arm around my shoulders, rubbing my arm gently. Together, we ignore the snide remarks of the two aviators behind us, choosing instead to hold each other's hands as we walk to the changing rooms, only splitting when necessary. Pushing into the room, I quickly dress with Stalker, holding a conversation with her as we do so, grabbing our helmets and heading out onto the runway, instantly hit by the seemingly constant wave of heat.

"Damn, how's it always hot around here?" Stalker questions to no one in particular, exhaling loudly as she draws a hand over her brow.

"Dunno, but I've wondered the same thing for weeks now. Just think what it's gonna be like in the cockpit."

"I'd rather not." My friend chuckles, eyeing the silver jets across from us with apprehension. Agreeing, I turn to face the boys as they emerge, joking around with each other as they go before splitting off to go to their separate jets.

"Ready, Hawk?" I call to him, laughing when he sends me a pointed look.

"Unfortunately, yes." The bored RIO replies, resignedly climbing up with me into the cockpit, where we buckle ourselves in, ready to take off yet again.

"Aw, come on, it won't be that bad!" I try to console him, looking awkwardly over my shoulder at him.

"I'll remind you of that in two hours." He grumbles, fiddling with the strap around his left shoulder.

Facing the front again, I close the cockpit canopy and wait for the signal to take off, surprised to find we are the first in line to do so. Slowly, I taxi the jet out onto the runway, watching the ground staff  for the right sign for me to go. Upon receiving it, I swiftly throw the aircraft into its top speed, letting out a grunt as the pressure forces me back into the chair, Hawk making a similar noise behind me. Hurtling off the end of the runway, we soon reach an appropriate height, angling off to the north after hearing the instructions given to us by the control tower.

"Roger." Hawk finishes the conversation, sighing as he starts to check the visible surroundings, my own eyes flicking to the radar in front of me.

"All clear for now. How about you?" I inquire, taking the jet into a gentle climb, just in case we need the extra height should we come across any unsavoury company.

"Clear, except a few clouds." The RIO reports, voice muffled a little under his mouth piece.

"Good."

For a little while longer, we skirt the edges of the aircraft carrier's range, keeping our eyes open for anything, expecting to see the usual smaller jets drop in in front of us to lead us on a wild goose chase, almost disappointed to find there to be nothing coming from any direction.

"Normally, I'd be happy that nothing is happening, but right now, it feels a bit weird." Hawk pipes up, voicing both of our thoughts eloquently enough, an uneasy frown settling on my face.

"It really does." I murmur in response, checking the radar once more, only to see a familiar green dot closing in on us, it's path much more direct than normal, "We got one, heading straight for us."

"That's odd. Well, you know the drill, let's go scare them off." Hawk encourages, adjusting himself so that he can look around much easier.

In seconds, we're within range, though the bogey is nowhere to be seen.

"Where is it?" I question, chewing my lip in confusion, looking around me even as Hawk does so.

"I don't kno-" Hawk starts, only to cut himself off when a large shadow passes over us.

Dreadfully, I crane my head upwards, my jaw falling open as I take in the sight above our small aircraft.

"Oh my god..." I start, struggling to figure out what is happening.

"Is that a tanker?"