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Okay, so maybe Slider had a point. It didn’t happen often, so Ice could let it go this once. So, yes. He hadn’t gone on a date in months, maybe even a year. So, yes. Just last week he’d spent a consecutive forty-eight hours at his desk. So, yes. Slider had to physically drag him out of there so that he would sleep and take a shower that lasted for longer than five minutes in the base locker room.
So, yes. He could admit that those were maybe not healthy behaviors.
However, he would like to point out to Ronald that the life of a commander was often not glamorous. That he had deadlines and decisions to make that would impact the lives of the many under his command. And also, he was almost in his early forties, now. Not the twenty-something hotshots they had been, and, maybe predictably, his aspirations had started to change. Also, Ron, being a gay man, a high-ranking, active-duty gay man, wasn’t exactly conducive to picking up who-knows-who from a dimly lit bar to, quote, take the edge off.
But, he loved Slider. He did. And he appreciated that his best friend of almost twenty years was looking out for him. So he agreed to go to this speed dating event with minimal reluctance! Look at that, Slider, he was capable of listening and growing as a person.
What he was not expecting, while he was in the middle of deciding if a tie was necessary or if he should forego it, was his doorbell to ring, and Slider to be standing on the other side also dressed up.
“Wow, you’re still not ready? Also, no tie.”
“Thank you. What are you doing here, exactly?” Ice let Slider push past him into the doorway with only minimal reluctance, sighing a little as he closed the door behind them.
“I’m coming with you, obviously. It was mostly to make sure you actually went, which I see now is unnecessary, but now I have to witness your rusty attempts at flirting firsthand.”
“Slider, you have a girlfriend. My sister, which I haven’t forgotten. What business do you have at a speed dating event?”
“I told you,” Slider said, helping himself to the grapes in Ice’s fruit bowl. “Moral support and possibly documentation for future generations. Why on earth do you like your grapes room temperature?”
Ice sighed the sigh of the longsuffering and snatched the bowl away from Slider, who smiled at him as innocently as he could with his cheeks stuffed full of grapes. “I left them out after work when I had to get ready. Can you just. Not touch anything and I will be right back.”
Naturally, when he returned Slider had helped himself to a serving of the leftovers in Ice’s fridge, and he just shrugged when Ice stared at him in slight awe. “What? Who knows what food they’ll have there! I’m preparing myself!”
“Are you five years old.”
Slider grinned, scraping the bowl clean. At least time with Sarah had taught him to rinse his dishes clean and place them in the dishwasher. Not that Ice stayed to watch, he’d turned to pull his shoes on, having settled for a simple pair of street shoes that Sarah got him one year for his birthday. It would hopefully communicate that he was a casual, normal person, who could have fun, since Slider had informed him more than once that his general demeanor screamed boring, and if he was going to be dragged out he was going to at least try.
Slider gave him a lift to the venue, since it was the least he could do after having roped him into this in the first place. The organizers had taken over a local bar for the night, so they’d been able to re-organize the tables and chairs into a line that bisected the room. Ice was happy to see that the bar was still running and there were menus provided at each table, so they’d presumably be fed at some point during the event.
Even though Slider had made fun of him for his state of undress when he’d arrived at Ice’s place, the host who checked them in said they were still quite early compared to a majority of the attendees, so they had time to settle in. A few people had settled at tables already, but Ice and Slider migrated toward the bar first, each opening a tab. It had been a while since Ice drank in the presence of others outside of his own home, so he started off with something light, not wanting to embarrass himself before the event even started. They chatted in the bar seats for the fifteen minutes it took for the rest of the speed daters to arrive, and in those moments, Ice was grateful that Slider chose to attend the event with him. Even if his friend had coerced him into being here, it was nice to have the excuse to spend time with him, something he’d been lax with lately.
Well. If he’d voiced that, Ron would remind him that in the last few months he’d been lax with a good few things, especially socially. Ice made a mental note to call Sarah in the coming weekend. He had a suspicion she was already aware of the night's proceedings, given that Slider kept glancing at his phone, occasionally typing furiously. At least he wouldn’t have to explain too much, if she knew that a certain someone named Ronald had set him up on this.
The event MC called for everyone to find a seat at the tables, explaining that the row of chairs closest to the bar would be static for the whole event, and the row opposite would rotate to the left every seven minutes. It was on the long side for a speed dating event, but since there was the option for food, they wanted to give the bar staff enough time to find who ordered what before the tables were all messed up. Ice decided he didn’t want to deal with that, and sat down on the side closest to the bar. Slider abandoned him at that point, making a point to sit a few chairs down the line, a privacy that Ice appreciated. He didn’t want to feel like he was being watched, even if it was his best friend.
Just as the MC was getting ready to start the event, the door to the bar opened with a clatter. A distinctly familiar voice called out some apologies to the host at the stand near the door, and Ice’s head whipped up from where he’d been studying the menu (yes Ron, awkwardly. Yes, to avoid small talk with his first partner) in surprise.
None other than Pete Maverick Mitchell had walked fashionably late into the bar, followed closely by Carole Bradshaw. Ice’s traitorous brain unhelpfully noted that Mav was wearing something other than his usual white t-shirt and jeans combination: a deep green silk shirt and black dress pants. Ice’s traitorous heart unhelpfully skipped a beat. Mav had left the first few buttons of the shirt open, but that did nothing to curb the way it still pulled at his pecs and biceps. Ice didn’t think he’d ever seen Mav wear a collared shirt without rolling up the sleeves if he didn’t have to, but this one seemed to be an exception, for which Ice allowed himself to be grateful because the fabric pulled at his forearms when he turned to help Carole with her coat.
Mav hadn’t noticed him yet, so Ice was allowed to observe, at least that’s what he told himself in the few seconds he got before the MC finally announced they’d begun and he was forced to turn back to his partner. She was nice, he knew, and she seemed genuinely disappointed when he couldn’t tell her a lot about his work due to confidentiality. His second partner was riveted when he opened with everywhere he’d gotten to travel, but less than enthused when he mentioned what exactly it was he did. And his third partner was another man who didn’t let him get a word in edgewise.
It was during that pairing that he allowed himself to look around, tuning the other man out to find where Mav had gotten to. He forced himself not to react when he noticed that Mav was on the opposite side of the table from Ice, moving in his direction.
Once he’d noticed that, it was all he could think of.
Before today, Ice hadn’t seen Mav in at least five years. They corresponded semi-regularly over the phone, even with the occasional e-mail, but they hadn’t been in the same room for a while. Long enough that apparently, Ice’s self-control was slipping quite a bit.
He could admit that he’d had a crush on Mav, sure. It was hard not to, when the cocky pilot appeared in his life with that easy smirk, giving him a new challenge to overcome. And for them to then meet in the middle after the Layton, tied together by this bond that none of their peers could hope to understand. But then, Mav went back to TOPGUN to teach, and Ice was returned to his carrier assignment, and only briefly did their postings intersect again. That wasn’t to say that Ice was unaware of what Mav had been doing with his time, he could admit to having taken certain liberties with his access to information, and therefore had been aware that Mav was back in the area, even if it was a brief time. That he was with Carole was a little surprising, as far as Ice had known she and the little Bradshaw were still down in Texas.
He looked back across the table to find his chatty partner gone, another man in his place who didn’t seem to mind Ice’s silence. He coughed to cover his surprise, clutching at his now empty glass.
“Sorry, I was distracted. Did you mention your name?”
The other man was nice enough, even if he made it clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship with a man as soon as he’d introduced himself. That was fine with Ice, it gave him more time to notice that Mav was two chairs away from him now. He surreptitiously glanced Mav’s way when signaling the bartender for a refill, only to find the other man looking right back.
The brief seconds of eye contact and the smirk that appeared on Mav’s face were all Ice needed to know he’d been caught, but that Mav didn’t mind. The thought embarrassed and reassured him in equal measure, and he refused to look away first. It was petty, but something between them would always be driven by their first exchange in the dim light of a bar not so different from the one they’re in now. The thought makes him want to laugh out loud, and he wondered if Mav was thinking the same. The way Mav saluted him with his glass told him he very well might be.
He hoped he could be forgiven for the way he was absolutely not paying attention to his next partner. Mav wasn’t really, either, he could tell because his fingers were tapping on the table next to his glass. It was a habit he’d noticed when they’d shared space on the Layton for all of a week. It was somewhat reassuring that it had stuck with Mav, that he wasn’t all that different after these years.
He looked away from Mav and accidentally made eye-contact with Slider. Slider, who was unabashedly ignoring his date in favor of smirking in a satisfied way at Ice, his chin resting propped up on his fist. His smirk only widened to a Cheshire quality when he caught Ice’s eye, and it was all Ice could do not to roll his eyes. He settled for a very slow raise of his middle finger instead, and couldn’t help the curl of something satisfied in his stomach when Mav muffled a snort by pretending to sneeze into his sleeve.
The call to change tables was a relief and a curse in equal measure, because Mav slid into the chair across from him.
“So,” he smirked. “How’ve you been, Ice?”
Ice had not realized how much it had rankled at him to be addressed by his first name by his previous table partners, but given the context it hadn’t made sense to introduce himself as anything else. But now, Mav sitting loose and pleased across the table from him, addressing him through a modification of his callsign, allowed him to take a full breath.
He didn’t even try to hide the smile, aware he was being more open than he usually would be, and with the way Mav’s eyes flicked down to the empty glass he was still holding onto, he knew that he’d made his own assumptions about why. That didn’t bother Ice. Let him think what he wanted.
He trusted Mav. He knew he wouldn’t judge him too hard.
“I’m alright,” Ice answered. “I’m sure you know how it is.”
“I don’t, actually,” Mav said, and Ice had a moment to quirk an eyebrow in confusion before Mav kept going with a distinct teasing quality to his voice. “Commander .”
Ice absolutely refused to examine what that did to him. “Ah, yeah. We haven’t seen each other since the promotion, have we?”
“Not since, no. Right before, yeah, but not since. How’s it feel? Really ready to keep going toward that desk, huh?”
“I don’t know if I'd say ready.” Ice shrugged. “But it’s the way I’m going.”
“Yeah. We always knew you’d get the farthest. No surprise that you’ve set your sights there too. So, Slider set you up on this, huh?”
“Apparently I’ve become a hermit in my old age and that’s unacceptable.”
“Carole thought this would be a good way for me to meet new people too. She’s visiting for the long weekend and thinks I don’t have any friends.” Mav glanced down the table to presumably where Carole was sitting and groaned, chin dropping to his chest as he chuckled.
Ice followed his gaze and found Carole and Slider sitting at the same table, watching them interact with matching smiles. “You know, Mav, I’m starting to think we’ve been set up.”
“You think?” Mav retorted, waving a dismissive hand in Carole and Slider’s directions. “It’s starting to make a lot of sense why she took so long to get ready. Must have wanted to make that fashionably late entrance. And why she insisted on this godawful shirt,” he trailed off to a mutter, pulling at the way it clung to his biceps a little. Ice watched the movement and the fabric pull, and once again admitted to himself that Slider had been right. He sure was under a dry spell if a simple shirt had this affect on him.
Mav was staring at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed, and Ice hastened to explain. “I think it’s a…nice shirt.”
“Wow, you sure sound convinced,” Mav laughed.
Ice chuckled. “Sorry. It is, though. Brings out your eyes.”
“That’s what Carole said.”
The MC called for time, and Ice and Mav met eyes across the table. They hadn’t even had time to discuss anything of actual significance, and Ice hoped he wasn’t imagining the disappointment on Mav’s face. The way the flicker of sadness pulled at the corners of Mav’s mouth gave him the courage he needed to catch Mav’s wrist as he stood up from the table.
“Do you want to. Well. Do you want to skip out?”
“Are you sure?” Mav asked, glancing briefly at the woman waiting to take his place across from Ice.
Ice glanced at her too, and then back at Mav, decision made. “Yes. I’ve got what I came here for,” he said, looking meaningfully at where he was still gripping Mav’s wrist. He really hoped he wasn’t imagining the way that Mav’s ears flamed red.
“Alright then,” Mav said, balanced once again and leveling that smirk at Ice. “Lead the way, Iceman. ”
They stopped at the bar to close their tabs first, and then nodded Slider and Carole as they left. Slider threw them a thumbs up, and Ice took that to mean that he and Carole had already coordinated about heading home separately.
Those stupid schemers.
“I take it Carole drove separately from you?” Ice asked, holding the front door to the bar open for Mav as they stepped into the night.
“Well…yeah, actually.” Mav said, rubbing the back of his neck as he realized. “I don’t have a car here and she had the rental. She refused to get on the bike, so. Now that I think of it, she really insisted that I take it anyway.”
He and Ice exchanged a look and then burst out laughing.
“Wow, they really got us, huh,” Mav said, shoving his hands in his slacks pockets. “I mean, I didn’t even know you were in the area.”
“That’s my line, Mave-rick.” He rolled the second syllable of Mav’s callsign to purposefully parallel the way Mav had said his before they left. Another reminder of long ago meetings.
“Man,” Mav mused, looking up toward the sky as they walked down the sidewalk with no apparent destination. “Who would have thought we’d get here, huh?”
“What, here specifically?”
Mav rolled his eyes, bumping Ice with his shoulder. “Jerk. No. I meant friends.”
Ice couldn’t help the slow smirk on his face. Mav rolled his eyes again. “Certainly not Viper or Jester. I bet Goose had an inkling.”
“Yeah?” Mav asked, blinking a couple of times. Ice bumped him with his shoulder, gentler.
“Yeah.”
They fell silent as the street was illuminated with a car’s passing headlights, and then stayed that way as they continued to walk. A few blocks later, Mav steered them in the direction of a park, which was helpfully deserted at this time of night. They stared at each other for a minute before Mav pushed through the gate, heading for a bench on the side of the sand pit.
“Not the swings?” Ice teased.
“I would, but I’m too afraid of ripping these pants.” And. Well, Ice was only human. The pants fit Mav very well.
They settled on the bench, and Ice said nothing when Mav sat down close enough for their legs to press together.
“How’s Penny?” Ice asked, mentally kicking himself as soon as the question had crossed his lips. That was not subtle at all.
Mav huffed a laugh. “She’s good. Haven’t talked to her in a while, but I think she’s still planning to open that bar. Looking at real estate and everything.”
“That’s good. And Bradley?”
“Still absolutely convinced he’s going to follow in my footsteps and join the Navy,” Mav said, the laugh less forced this time. “The way he’s growing, though, he might not fit in the cockpit. You’d think he’d be past his growth spurt by now, but he just keeps going. It’s driving Carole insane. She had to upgrade his bed because his feet were dangling off.”
Ice laughed. “He better not get used to that space, with racks the way they are on the carriers.”
Mav nudged their shoulders together. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Touché, Mitchell.” Their shoulders were still pressed together, and Ice took a deep breath before turning his head to look down at Mav.
Mav was already looking back. Probably had been for a while, he looked so comfortable. The breeze ruffled at his hair and pulled the corners of his lips up into a soft smile. “I missed talking with you, Ice.”
“Me too.”
“Why did we stop?”
And that was the million dollar question. The truth was, Ice had tapered off their conversations because he’d gotten too close. He’d scared himself with how much he looked forward to their conversations, how he’d started categorizing little things that happened to him throughout the day so that he could tell Mav later. “It’s my fault,” he said, dropping his forehead to press to Mav’s. “I’m sorry. I spooked myself. And then, well, I got busy, and I convinced myself that was it.”
“Hey, now. The attachment issues is my thing, Ice.”
Ice huffed a laugh, and Mav’s eyes sparkled. At this point, Ice figured they both knew where this was going. Mav twisting to put his arm on the back of the bench behind Ice’s shoulders only confirmed that.
“Are you sure I’m not too dangerous for you?” Mav asked, and he phrased it like a tease, but the way his eyes flicked between Ice’s let Ice know it wasn’t a joke. It was a serious worry for Ice, for his career.
“Have I told you how good that shirt looks on you yet?” Ice murmured in return, hoping it would be enough. He leaned closer until their lips brushed. Mav’s lips parted slightly, his eyes widening. “Haven’t been able to stop looking at your arms all night.”
Clued in, Mav’s mouth solidified into a smirk. “Well. Then why don’t you do something about it, hotshot?”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Now, Ice was almost forty years old. He’d had a lot of first kisses in his life. But none of them, none of them had been like this, because none of them were with Maverick.
There was an edge to the kiss, driven by the fact that though they were shielded by the cover of night, they were still out in the semi-open and active members of the United States Navy, besides. Still, that didn’t stop Mav from cupping the back of Ice’s neck with the palm of his hand, fingers pressing into the short hairs at the base of his skull. Ice’s own hands fluttered for a second, before finally catching at Mav’s ribs and the side of his face, where he let his thumb rub under Mav’s eye.
They pulled apart after a few moments, not having deepened the kiss. Ice still felt warm from the inside out, and the satisfied smile on Mav’s face told him the other man was feeling quite similarly.
“Why haven’t we been doing this for the last twenty years?” Mav asked, in a whisper.
Ice didn’t have any good answer to that, so he dove back in to press their lips together.
“Carpe diem,” Mav murmured cheekily, when they parted again. Ice rolled his eyes, pulling away. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to get cold. How about I take you home? Slider abandoned you, I take it.”
“He definitely did,” Ice answered. “Are you sure all you have is the bike?”
Mav’s smirk reappeared. “You can’t mean to tell me that you’re nervous about it?”
“No…” Ice trailed off, extremely convincingly.
“Come on, Ice, you do way more dangerous things each day. I promise I’m a great driver, precious cargo and all that.”
“I resent that,” Ice said, as they stood from the bench and wandered back toward the bar and the corresponding parking lot across the street, where Ice could just make out the red gleam of Mav’s beloved bike. “When I’m in a plane I happen to be wearing a helmet.”
“I’ll go slow!”
Ice didn’t believe that for a single second. Mav knew it, too. Still, as they reached the bike and Mav gestured for Ice to press himself close on the back, and Ice looped his arms around Mav’s waist, he could admit there was a certain draw to the bike. Mav’s lips curled up into a smile when Ice dropped his forehead down to the other man’s shoulder, so Ice figured Mav was on the same page.
Mav always had been good at staying right there on his wing.