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Ever since Mav switched to test piloting and moved to PAX River in 2006, they haven’t really had the chance to see each other a lot, Mav spent most of his time on the east coast while Ice took a posting in California, trying to stay as close to his growing kids as possible. They’ve always found a way to keep in touch through letters, phone calls and then texting, which changed their lives for the better. If they had both access to their phone and good service, not a day went by without them contacting each other.
But a few weeks ago, Mav had excitedly called Ice, telling him he was moving to the Mojave for a new top secret Pentagon Project (that Ice didn’t have clearance to access, despite his attempts) and that he had found a nice place to stay, would Ice like to come visit him sometime?
Ice had agreed, but then hadn’t been able to find the time to make the trip until today. So here he was, halfway through the 5 hour drive to Mav’s place in the middle of the desert. The fact that Mav gave him GPS coordinates instead of a proper address was a bit of a concern for Ice. The fact that once he checked said coordinates he found a decommissioned Navy hangar was both extra concerning and reassuring somehow. Mav’s first love had always been planes so him apparently acquiring a hangar was not as surprising to Ice as he thought it should be. He hoped it at least had electricity and running water because he didn’t feel like showering à la SEAL, he was an admiral now afterall, and he enjoyed the comfort his rank brought him.
As he was driving (making a point to only stop at Marverik’s gas stations and sending a selfie to Mav, everytime ) Ice kept having flashbacks to the last time he was on that road. Slider, as his best man, had decided they should spend Ice’s bachelor party in Las Vegas. He didn’t have many memories of that weekend, thanks to the guys supplying him with a new drink as soon as his glass was empty, but he had a few flashes: Slider and Mav arguing in the car about if they should go through LA or not (Mav ended up being right), Mav triumphantly telling Ice they were bunking together and thus leaving a defeated Chipper to deal with Slider’s snores, watching Mav crush them all at some card game, waking up still dressed and tangled up with Mav because they managed to get into their room but not any further than the sofa in the entrance, Slider waking them up by laughing his ass off (and warning Sarah, during his best man speech, that Ice might make her sleep in a twin bed because he missed the carrier bunks).
20 years after that weekend, Ice had spent a year in DC, doing his tour at the Pentagon. During that time, Mav had taken his wingman duty very seriously and met up with Ice every weekend for drinks, hoping to help his best friend deal with the divorce that caused him to finally take the posting. After a few weeks of Mav dragging him to every bar in town, Ice had finally told him that he wasn’t heartbroken because Sarah and him hadn’t been in love in the first place, only marrying each other for the benefits it would bring them both, and that they were still friends. Mav had taken it in stride and still showed up every Friday night, on the dot until Ice’s tour at the Pentagon had ended and he was back in California.
Apart from that time and the times Mav was on leave, that he made a point of always spending in San Diego with Ice and his family, they hadn’t seen each other a lot these last few years, sticking to texting and regular phone calls. So as Ice was drawing closer and closer to his destination, anticipation built up in his guts. Soon the building came into view (and it truly was a decommissioned Navy Hangar, Mav really was something ). He could see the giant doors were wide open and he started to get giddy, pushing the gas pedal harder, to get there a tiny bit faster.
Ice parked in front of the hangar and got out, quickly making his way to the big entrance. The sight that met him took his breath away for a second. Mav was sitting on a stool, a half dismembered Bike in front of him, elbow deep in what seemed to be said bike’s engine.
At the sudden shadow looming over him, Mav looked up, his face splitting into a big grin.
“Ice! I wasn’t expecting you so soon! Give me a second to put this back and I’m all yours.”
Ice didn’t have time to nod, Mav’s focus was already back on the bike. He stood there awkwardly, taking in the full scene that was his best friend’s tinkering. He looked at Mav’s nimble fingers, watching them move with smooth efficiency and his breath caught again when Mav’s fingers mindlessly went up to his cheek and left a little smudge of grease there. ‘Cute’ Ice thought before his brain had time to catch up.
Mav only took a couple minutes to finish up and Ice knew he should take advantage of that time to go back to his car and get his bag, but for some reason he just couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mav. Finally, he put down the tools and got up to greet Ice, who took the hug gratefully, willing to ignore the grease stains if it meant he got to hug his best friend for a bit longer. As Mav let go and moved to wash his hands he started to talk
“You got here way earlier than I expected. That last Maverik was a long way from the hangar.”
“No cop in the desert Mav.”
Mav laughed and called Ice a hypocrite while spraying him with water, since Ice—like the moon to the earth—had followed Mav, unable to stay away for too long now that he was finally in the same room.
Once he was done washing his hands (and Ice just couldn’t bring himself to let him know about the cheek’s smudge) Mav gave Ice a tour of the hangar, showing him the airstream (Ice refusing to question the pang of disappointment when Mav mentioned an extra mattress lying around the hangar) and then his workshop.
Ice slowly took in all the pictures of the Bradshaws, of kid Bradley and that one photo that Ice had sent after spending an hour on the phone with him, talking around Bradley’s graduation. And among those, spread around and intertwined with everything that made up Mav’s life, little trinkets from Ice: their picture from the Layton rescue, his old squadron’s patch, the top gun trophy that Slider had been stupid (and drunk) enough to bet at a poker game during Ice’s bachelor party, his old helmet he sent to Mav when a promotion grounded him and, if he wasn’t mistaken, peeking out from under the helmet was the note that Ice slipped in the package, joking about Mav needing the extra protection.
Mav was his best friend, the godfather of his daughter and Ice knew he was just as important to Mav, but to see it on display like this still warmed something in Ice’s chest.
The tour ended with Mav grabbing two beers from the fridge. They spent the rest of the morning talking, despite not having much to catch up on, since they hadn’t stopped texting each other. Ice agreed to cook them a nice lunch, since Mav’s skills somehow never managed to extend to the kitchen. After lunch, Mav got two lawn chairs out in front of the hangar and they settled down. Ice wasn’t surprised to find a few planes flying over them, he also wasn’t surprised to hear Mav perfectly guess each model, although his breath hitched everytime Mav recited the letters and numbers without hesitation. The hours flew by, seemingly without him noticing and suddenly Mav was offering Ice the first shower to wash away the sweat from their sunkissed skins.
As he stepped out of the airstream, he couldn’t help but joke that he was glad for the running warm water, which Mav pretended to be offended about.
“I might live in the middle of the desert but I’ll have you know I am still civilized, Admiral.”
Ice settled down on the comfortable chair, closing his eyes for a moment, the drive finally catching up to him. His quick catnap was interrupted by a curse, a bang and the sight of Mav draped only in a towel and still wet fast walking to the back of the hangar. Ice couldn’t help but follow him.
“Mav? Are you alright?”
“Yeah. It’s an old heater, not used to multiple showers in a row so I just need to bang it around a bit before I also get warm water.”
Ice managed to rein in his laughter but it was a close thing. Mav looked like a wet offended puppy right now, vibrating with frustration. The laughter quickly disappeared, along with the jab he was planning, as he fully took in the sight of his best friend, mostly naked, tinkering with the heater. Ice had no idea what Mav was doing to the heater but he knew what he was doing to Ice. The thought of bending Mav over for a much different reason was unexpected and he struggled to keep a straight face when Mav turned back toward him. Thankfully, Mav was more focused on getting back into the shower and didn’t pay too much attention to him.
After the shower (and Ice convincing himself he didn’t need a second cold shower), Mav heated up some frozen pizza and they settled back outside to eat it, watching the sun set and darkness surround them. Mav was talking, pointing at all the stars in the sky, and Ice swore that he was trying to listen but after spending the whole day with Mav, seeing him so relaxed and happy and competent , he just couldn’t focus on the words, instead just watching Mav’s side profile, glowing in the starlight.
For years now (maybe decades by that point), at the end of the day, it wasn’t Sarah that Ice wanted to tell all about how another Admiral said something stupid or how some young cocky lieutenant thought he could pull a stupid stunt in the air unpunished. It was Mav who would receive the full retelling by text and it was Mav’s comments that made him laugh and shake his head.
And Ice had spent half of his career - in between saving Mav’s ass from getting kicked out of the navy - trying to be a good influence on Mav. But apparently, the influence instead went the other way because, as Ice opened his mouth, he got reminded he was very much going with the don’t think, just do approach Mav has always been so fond of.
“Can I kiss you?”
Mav’s mouth immediately stopped moving and he turned to look at his best friend and, before Ice had time to retract his offer, Mav was grabbing his cheek and kissing him.
There was no firework, it didn’t feel like the earth had stopped turning for them. It felt strange but also familiar, like coming home after a long deployment.
For years to come they will be arguing about who made the first move. Ice will insist he’s the one who asked, while Mav will enjoy reminding everyone he kissed Ice first.
The second mattress wasn’t used that weekend.