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They're out at the bar again the night before their actual training is meant to start. They'd been briefed earlier that day by Maverick, who was sitting at the same spot he was the night before, up at the bar counter, chatting up the owner.
Hangman's eyes drifted away from the pool table where the other elite pilots were horsing around to catch the moment where Maverick, stupidly, checked a message on his phone before setting it down on the counter.
"This man must be a glutton for punishment," Hangman chuckled, to no one in particular. He just liked the sound of his own voice.
"What?"
He'd gotten Coyote's attention, but the need for an answer was quickly extinguished as the loud clang of a bell rang throughout the small room, and was met with an uproarious fit of cheers.
Hangman quickly down the rest of his glass before marching forward to collect his free refill. He greeted Maverick with a hearty slap on the shoulder, slinging his arm around it as he slid his empty glass toward Penny.
"Thanks for another free drink, old man." Penny threw a smirk at Maverick and left to fill orders, plenty more coming in.
"You haven't had enough?" Maverick quipped, and although it was lighthearted Hangman took a little bit of offense to that. Who the fuck was this guy to check his drinking?
"Well if you keep making rookie mistakes around here..."
Hangman can't even finish his thought before he's met with indignation.
"Rookie!?"
"Well if it acts like a rookie and talks like a rookie..." and maybe Hangman had had too much to drink if he was talking to a superior like this. That self-reflection would come later.
"You know what," Maverick still had that one look on his face, not particularly heated, but perhaps taken aback by the young lieutenant's boldness. "Just for that, I'm going to shoot you down first tomorrow."
"Bring it!" Hangman laughed, throwing his hands back and making a beckoning gesture with his fingers.
"And just to up the stakes," Maverick added. "Let's make it four thousand push-ups."
Hangman couldn't believe how haughty Maverick was acting. He was actually a little angry. Didn't this old idiot know that he was the one going down? And this is where the alcohol intake really got him in trouble.
"How about when I win you suck my dick!"
Maverick seemed briefly stunned by the declaration but quickly recovered as Penny set down Hangman's refilled beer on the counter beside them. After a beat Maverick found Hangman's eyes and hit him with that steely damn look of his.
"Game on."
Hangman retreated back to the pool table in a huff and downed his beer in under a minute.
Maverick kept half of his word. Hangman was a good enough pilot that he didn't allow Maverick any easy chances, and enough other pilots did that he wasn't the one Maverick shot down first. That didn't provide him much consolation as he was doing his push-ups on the tarmac later.
"Hangman, you've done two thousand, you can stop." Phoenix commented as she pulled herself up off of the ground, drenched in sweat.
Hangman didn't even turn to look at her, just kept pushing. "Nope, gotta do extra."
The other pilot didn't care enough to argue or inquire further and walked off. "Whatever."
His arms felt like jelly once he was finally done, but he knew his debt wasn't paid yet. There was an extra dosage of humility he still needed to take. He hadn't been drunk enough to forget what he shouted at the captain in the bar the night before and now he had to face the consequences. He steeled himself as he exited the showers and was immediately hit with the voice he'd been waiting for.
"Hangman, in my office."
Maverick's office was small, barely enough room for a desk and a couple of chairs. The blinds on all the windows were closed, adding an extra feeling of tightness to the setting. They also forewarned what Hangman was certain was coming next.
"Hangman, you're a good pilot," Maverick began. "But you need to do better at working with your team out there. Your flying today directly led to Phoenix getting tagged, and it indirectly led to you getting tagged. If you'd still had a wingman out there you could have escaped the jam I put you in. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir." It was automatic, Hangman had barely processed a damn word he'd said, anxiety building for what he was sure was coming next.
"If you don't learn to play well with others you're not going to get picked for this mission, no matter how talented you are. And I can promise you that."
A beat of silence, and then: "You're dismissed."
"What!?" Hangman practically jumped out his chair, enraged.
Maverick startled a bit at the outburst, confused. "I said you're dismiss--"
"But I haven't sucked your dick yet!"
Maverick's usually steady face betrayed even more shock and confusion. "I'm-- I'm sorry lieutenant, but you want to suck my dick?"
It was Hangman's turn to be shocked, horrified even. "No! Fuck no! Of course not, that's disgusting," he sputtered.
"Okay. Then, you're dismissed." Maverick nodded toward the door.
"But we made a bet," Hangman argued.
"I didn't assume you were actually serious," Maverick explained. He motioned to the door again, "Now go on, I don't need bad head from some blowjob rookie anyway."
Hangman moved toward the door sullenly, relief beginning to wash over him until Maverick's last words sunk in. He'd called him a fucking rookie. About something as unsavory as giving blowjobs, but still, a fucking rookie! As if he'd be bad at it.
"I'll fucking show you."
Instead of turning the knob on the door open he turned the lock closed before wheeling around and approaching Maverick in his chair behind the desk, a fire in his eyes.
"I'll give you the best fucking head you've ever fucking had in your god damn fucking life."
He was on his knees and prying at Maverick's belt before Maverick could even react to the sudden change in scene.
"Hangman stop, what the fuck," Maverick struggled lightly, trying to push Hangman's hands away from his crotch.
"I lost the bet!" Hangman yelled, and Maverick froze. "I wasn't fucking good enough up there, so at least let me make up for it down here. I did my four fucking thousand push ups, and I need to do this. Just let me take my damn punishment!"
Maverick met Hangman's eyes and saw the fire. He recognized it, and understood that resisting anymore would not only be futile, but potentially damaging to the kid. This was about pride, and if getting a blowjob was the weird backwards way he could help Hangman become a better pilot, then so fucking be it.
Maverick's hands moved back down to his crotch but instead of pushing Hangman's hands away, he helped him by undoing his own belt. Hangman helped him with the rest, undoing the buttons on his pants before shucking everything down until there was a pool of fabric bunched under his knees.
Maverick's cock was completely soft, this whole scenario entirely unarousing for him, but it was still pretty. Plenty long, round, and cut. Now, Hangman, on his knees, whitened. The fire went out slightly as he actually came face to face with another man's cock for the first time. Sure he'd seen plenty before, but never at this angle.
Still, he wouldn't be deterred. He picked up his courage and went for it in one fluid motion, reaching forward and gripping the soft organ wholly in his right hand. His left hand found purchase on a naked thigh as he squeezed and pulled on the older man's dick, trying to elicit a reaction.
Maverick threw his head back and closed his eyes, and eventually the physical ministrations paid off. He slowly grew stiffer until Hangman was able to give what most would consider a real handjob. Hangman spit into his hand to make the motion easier and hopefully more pleasurable for Maverick, and soon enough the older man was at full mast.
Fully hard, Maverick was close to seven inches, and thick enough that Hangman could barely get his hand all the way around it. It was, as Hangman soon found out, a mouthful.
Hangman began his blowjob by focusing on the head. Maverick moaned lightly, head still thrown back, eyes still closed. He was probably imagining that bar owner. Hangman wasn't concerned about that though, he was concerned with proving himself better than a blowjob rookie.
He started with lots of tongue, stimulating the head and the ridges below and in a way he himself liked. He continued to pump the shaft as he did so and he was soon rewarded with another moan and a drop or two of pre-cum. Weirdly, he didn't find the taste objectionable, so he pushed onward. A blowjob rookie would only focus on the head, so Hangman knew he needed to take Maverick in deeper. He took a breath and pushed forward, actually a little curious as to how much dick he could take before choking. He got about halfway before his gag reflex was triggered, pulling off for air.
Hangman had slept around with enough girls to have learned that a gag reflex could be trained away, and getting beyond the halfway point of Maverick's dick became a new personal challenge. His next few efforts ended in gagging and choking, but he'd made progress, and Maverick seemed into it, a low moan accompanying each sputter for air. Hangman had pushed himself to take three-quarters of Maverick's length and when he made a go of it without even gagging he gave himself a pat on the back. He'd always prided himself on being a fast learner. Soon though he was going to take the whole thing.
Hangman was so caught up in his personal missions that the context of them practically escaped his mind. There were no thoughts of weirdness or awkwardness about sucking dick, let alone the dick of a superior, and he'd even forgotten about humility that led to this. He was simply set on the task at hand, which was to get all of Maverick's dick in his throat.
It didn't take much longer for that to happen. Letting the dick breach his throat for the first time was tough, but he adjusted the second time he pushed it and it was smooth sailing from there. Pride swelled in his chest as he nestled his nose into his captain's pubic hair. Could a blowjob rookie do that? The ensuing moan from Maverick was all the answer he needed.
He pulled off, smiling. But his smile vanished when he looked up at Maverick for approval. Maverick still had his head tossed back and his eyes closed, probably imagining he was getting head from that bar owner. Hangman was incensed. He wasn't about to let some imaginary bitch take credit for his hard work.
He flexed his jaw for a second, gearing up, and then went to fucking town. Now that he had some technique he was going to deliver the passion. And it worked. Maverick's hand flew down and gripped his hair before suddenly releasing. The move had been involuntary and immediately second-guessed, but Hangman wasn't having it. He reached up and pulled Maverick's hand back down and held it there, letting the captain know what he wanted.
"Fuck," the older man gasped, and Hangman looked up to find another mission accomplished. Maverick was staring back down at him, eyes wide open as he took in the extremely erotic view of the young lieutenant devouring his cock.
Hangman batted his eyes up at Maverick, coquettishly, teasing. Maverick responded by gripping his hair harder and pulling it up and down on his cock.
"Oh fuck yes," Maverick praised, and his role in the blowjob was much more active from there on out. If Hangman got ten seconds of setting the pace, Maverick got ten seconds after that, taking hold of Hangman's face and moving him how he wanted it.
"That's it, fuck. Fucking take that shit."
He was increasingly verbal too.
"Suck that fucking cock."
"Keep taking it."
"Good boy."
The last bit pulled an involuntary whine out of Hangman, and Maverick froze so that he could stare down at Hangman with another one of those fucking looks.
"You like that?" Maverick asked, pulling out his cock and slapping it against Hangman's lips. "You like being told you're good."
The second whine Hangman let out could only be described as pathetic. Maverick pet Hangman's hair and cooed, and Hangman only found it slightly condescending.
"You're a good boy, Jake."
The use of his real name made Hangman full out moan as he angled to try to get Maverick's cock back in his mouth. This was as erotic as it was embarrassing, and at least with a cock in his mouth he could tune it out. Maverick finally relented and allowed Hangman to catch the head back in his mouth and suckle on it.
"That's it. Good little cocksucker."
And then Maverick had both hands clasped together on the back of Hangman's head as he began fucking his hips upward. Hangman kept still and allowed the captain to use his mouth like a cocksleeve; fucked in long, deep, slow strokes.
"Such a good boy taking me in like this, the best."
Hangman and Maverick both moaned as this continued, and Hangman began to feel his mind drift into a peaceful zen.
Too soon and too suddenly, the cock was being swiftly withdrawn from his mouth, and Hangman whined in confusion as Maverick quickly staggered to his feet.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he chanted, rapidly pulling on his drenched cock. He was about to come.
Hangman stared up at Maverick from his spot on the ground stupidly until Maverick suddenly shuffled an inch or so forward, took a firm grip of his hair to hold him steady, and shot several ropes of hot and thick cum all over his face. He closed his eyes just in time, but one shot managed to land on his still slightly open lips. He didn't hate the taste. If anything, to Hangman it tasted like victory.
Hangman kept his eyes closed until Maverick was kind enough to swipe the cum off of them with his thumb. Maverick was breathing heavily, clearly still coming down from the power of his orgasm. Hangman beamed cockily at him, he had caused that.
"So, how was that bad head from a blowjob rookie?" Hangman couldn't help but ask.
Maverick shut him up by pushing a cum-soaked thumb into his mouth. Hangman made a show of it, drinking down the man's spunk with glee and slobbering over the thumb like he was ready for a repeat performance.
Maverick spared him a single light-hearted laugh before taking his thumb back and pulling up his pants.
"You're dismissed, Hangman." They both remained still for a beat, so he added, "Go clean my cum off of your face."
"Yes, sir!"