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Tom Kazansky had never been an impulsive person.
Maverick knew that better than anyone.
For years he had watched Tom think through every decision, every mission, every important word before speaking it aloud.
So when Tom walked into the kitchen one ordinary morning and said:
“I want you to mark me.”
Maverick nearly dropped the spoon into his coffee.
“What?”
Tom was leaning casually against the counter, wearing one of Maverick’s old hoodies.
He looked calm.
Far too calm.
“I want you to mark me officially.”
Maverick blinked.
“Ice…”
“I mean it.”
Silence.
It took several seconds for Maverick’s brain to catch up.
Because that wasn’t a small request.
Not even close.
In their world, a mating mark was permanent.
It meant trust.
Commitment.
Belonging.
A promise made visible.
Many couples never took that step.
And Tom had always been incredibly private about the idea.
Which was exactly why Maverick had never pushed.
Not once.
“I thought you didn’t want one,” Maverick admitted quietly.
Tom looked down at his mug.
“I didn’t.”
“And now?”
A small smile appeared on his face.
“Now I’ve spent twenty years with you.”
Something tightened painfully in Maverick’s chest.
Tom continued.
“We survived deployments.”
“Yeah.”
“Distance.”
“Yeah.”
“Arguments.”
“A lot of those.”
“Your terrible cooking.”
“Hey!”
Tom laughed softly.
“And you’re still here.”
Maverick shook his head.
“So are you.”
“Exactly.”
Those blue eyes softened.
“I don’t need any more proof.”
The room fell quiet again.
But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence.
It was warm.
Safe.
Familiar.
Like home.
Like them.
“Are you sure?” Maverick asked.
Tom stepped closer.
Took his hand.
Squeezed gently.
“Completely.”
⸻
The days leading up to it were unexpectedly nerve-wracking.
For both of them.
Which felt ridiculous.
They’d been together for decades.
They’d survived things that should have broken them.
Yet somehow this felt different.
Bigger.
More personal.
Because it wasn’t about surviving.
It was about choosing.
Again.
Deliberately.
Forever.
The ceremony would be private.
No guests.
No audience.
No admirals.
No Navy traditions.
Just Tom.
Just Pete.
Exactly the way they wanted it.
⸻
The evening arrived with gentle rain tapping against the windows.
The house felt warm and quiet.
A fire crackled in the fireplace.
Soft lights glowed in the living room.
The entire world seemed to have slowed down.
Tom sat on the couch watching the flames.
Thoughtful.
Maverick appeared carrying two mugs.
Hot chocolate.
Of course.
Because whenever Tom was nervous, somehow chocolate appeared.
“Thanks,” Tom said.
“Anytime.”
They sat shoulder to shoulder.
Knee touching knee.
Comfortably close.
For several minutes neither of them spoke.
They simply listened to the rain.
The fire.
Each other’s breathing.
Eventually Tom broke the silence.
“You know what’s strange?”
“What?”
“I’m not scared.”
Maverick raised an eyebrow.
“No?”
Tom shook his head.
“I’m excited.”
That made Maverick smile immediately.
Because Tom Kazansky admitting excitement was a rare event.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that.”
“Don’t exaggerate.”
“I’m serious.”
Tom leaned lightly against him.
“I just want this to be with you.”
The answer came without thought.
“It will always be with me.”
Tom’s expression softened instantly.
For a brief moment Maverick could see the young pilot he’d met all those years ago.
Confident.
Brilliant.
Stubborn.
The man who had changed his life forever.
⸻
Later they moved to the bedroom.
The room was dimly lit.
Peaceful.
Private.
Safe.
Tom stood near the window taking slow breaths.
Maverick walked over.
“We can still stop if you want.”
Tom immediately shook his head.
“I don’t want to stop.”
“I just want to make sure you have a choice.”
“I do.”
His fingers intertwined with Maverick’s.
“And I’m choosing you.”
The words hit harder than any missile ever could.
Because after all these years they still mattered.
Every day.
Every morning.
Every night.
Choosing each other.
Again and again.
⸻
Maverick reached up and brushed a hand across Tom’s cheek.
Gentle.
Careful.
Like something precious.
Tom closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.
Trusting him completely.
That trust meant more than anything.
More than the ceremony.
More than the mark.
More than the promises.
Because Tom had never trusted easily.
But he trusted Pete.
Always.
⸻
“I love you,” Maverick whispered.
Tom opened his eyes.
Emotion shone clearly there.
“I know.”
“Show-off.”
“Absolutely.”
They both laughed.
And just like that some of the tension disappeared.
Not all of it.
But enough.
Enough to breathe.
Enough to smile.
Enough to move forward.
Together.
⸻
When the moment finally came, it was simple.
Quiet.
Intimate.
No grand declarations.
No dramatic speeches.
Only the two of them.
And a lifetime of love between them.
Maverick held Tom close.
Listening to the steady beat of his heart.
Feeling him relax little by little.
Feeling the trust.
The certainty.
The choice.
Everything was done carefully.
Tenderly.
With all the respect such a promise deserved.
And afterward Tom stayed in his arms.
Eyes closed.
Breathing slowly.
Peacefully.
“Are you okay?” Maverick asked softly.
Tom smiled.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Pete.”
“What?”
“Stop worrying.”
“I can’t.”
“I know.”
That earned another laugh from both of them.
⸻
They stayed together for a long time afterward.
Neither wanting to move.
The rain continued outside.
The fire crackled softly downstairs.
The house remained wrapped in warmth.
And for once neither of them felt any need to fill the silence.
There was nothing left to prove.
Nothing left to question.
Only certainty.
Only love.
Only home.
⸻
Hours later Tom was half asleep against Maverick’s chest.
“Hey,” he murmured.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Maverick looked down.
“For what?”
Tom smiled without opening his eyes.
“For waiting.”
Maverick’s heart ached.
In the best possible way.
“It was worth it.”
Tom nodded.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then:
“It really was.”
Maverick kissed the top of his head.
Holding him a little tighter.
The way he had for years.
The way he always would.
Because the mark mattered.
It was important.
A symbol of everything they had built together.
But it wasn’t what defined their relationship.
What mattered most was something much simpler.
After all these years—
Tom still chose him.
And Maverick would keep choosing Tom.
Every single day.
For the rest of their lives.