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Ice pushed his reading glasses to his nose and checked his watch. Work was becoming quite tedious, and at this hour of the evening, Ice’s heart really wasn’t in it. He looked out the window of his office at home. The last glimpses of sunlight were fading fast outside, making it almost dark enough where the glow of the lamp on inside made it hard to see out. The first few stars were out, and the moon as well. Ice looked back at his watch.
It was almost 7:00pm.
Ice grinned wide as he heard the patter of little feet run down the hallway towards his office. A very tentative knock came on the door.
“Yes? Who is it?” he answered theatrically.
“It’s me, Uncle Ice!” came Bradley’s voice.
“Come in!” he said. The door opened, and in ran the kid that had turned Ice’s life completely upside down.
Bradley stood beside Ice’s desk, waiting patiently for him to put away his paperwork. He was wearing his blue pajamas he had gotten for Christmas. His blond locks were mussed and curly, falling over his ears and into his face, still bleach-looking baby blond but showing slightly darker gold towards the roots as he got older. Ice couldn’t believe he was already almost eight years old.
Ice tapped the last stack of paperwork on the desk to get it in order.
“Alright, kiddo, I’m done, what’s up?”
“It’s time, Uncle Ice!” said Bradley, bouncing on his toes. Ice looked at him in feigned obliviousness.
“Time for what?” he asked.
“You know!” said Bradley impatiently. They did this every night. It was their ritual, and Ice knew his part well.
“I’m not sure I understand, kiddo. What is it you want?”
“Come ON, Uncle Ice!” said Bradley, cracking a smile. “You know what time it is!”
“Hmmm, what could it possibly be time for?” Ice wondered, tapping his fingers on his chin. “You’ve already eaten dinner, you already got your teeth brushed, we already made sure Uncle Mav didn’t blow up the garage working on his motorcycle…” Bradley was beginning to giggle. Ice looked back down at him. “You’ve stumped me, Baby Goose. I just can’t quite recall what we could possibly have to do at this hour!”
Bradley was overtaken with giggles. “Uncle Ice! It’s STORYTIME!!” he shouted.
Ice’s eyebrows popped up and he gasped in performative shock.
“OH! That’s it! How could I possibly forget? I’m so silly. Yes, of course. It’s storytime. What book were we reading again?”
“The Hobbit! We have to find out what happens to Bilbo and the Dwarves!” said Bradley urgently. Ice popped up from his desk chair.
“Then we have to go right now!” he said.
“Fly me!” Bradley begged, jumping up and down.
“I don’t know, aren’t you getting a little big for that?”
“I’m not! Please??”
Without another word, Ice scooped up a laughing Bradley Bradshaw and carried him into the living room, holding him out in front of him with his little arms spread wide like a jet, complete with plane noises. They landed on the couch, Ice collapsing in the center with a rambunctious kid climbing all over him.
“You are definitely getting too big for that,” said Ice, stretching as he sat down.
“Just start the story already!” said Bradley impatiently, shoving the book into Ice’s hands.
“Okay, alright, kiddo!” said Ice, flipping the pages to find his place. “Are you sure Uncle Mav doesn’t want to listen?”
“He always falls asleep,” said Bradley, rolling his eyes.
“So do you,” said Ice, raising an eyebrow as he flipped to the proper chapter.
“Yeah, but he falls asleep first,” Bradley argued.
“Fair enough,” said Ice. “So, you want me to start without him?”
“He doesn’t care!” said Bradley. “Just start reading!”
“Okay, alright, kiddo,” said Ice with a chuckle. “Let me find the right place.”
They settled onto the couch. Ice crossed one leg over the other, one arm slung over the back of the couch, the other holding the book open, resting it on his knee. Bradley shuffled in, sitting in his lap so he could see where they were on the page. Ice cleared his throat.
“ ‘Chapter Three,’ ” said Ice, “ ‘A Short Rest.’ ”
“Can you do the voices again like you did with the trolls?” Bradley begged, interrupting.
“Yes, of course, Baby Goose. But nobody’s talking right now. We’re just starting the chapter, okay?”
“You have to promise.”
“I promise I’ll do the voices,” said Ice with a grin on his face. Satisfied, Bradley settled back in, and Ice continued once more.
“ ‘They did not sing or tell stories that day, even though the weather improved, nor the next day, nor the day after. They had begun to feel that danger was not far away on either side. They camped under the stars…’ ”
The sound of Ice’s voice filled the room and echoed through their house, just barely reaching the kitchen where Maverick was doing some late evening tidying up.
“Shit, is it time already?” Mav said to himself, checking his watch. 7:03. He replaced the dish towel to its proper spot and made his way down the hall into the living room. He turned the corner and damn near melted.
Ice was spread out on the couch, glasses on, hair slightly askew, absorbed in telling a story. And not-so-baby Bradley was curled up on his lap, gazing down at the book, hanging onto every word. They looked so comfortable, like they fit that way. Mav saw it almost every night, but that didn’t stop his heart from swelling with joy and his eyes from becoming misty.
Bradley adored Ice. And Ice loved him too, with a part of himself that was completely separate from the part that loved Mav. Maverick saw it in the way he ruffled Bradley’s hair as he read, the way he adjusted his legs so his Baby Goose could have a more comfortable seat, the way he put so much passion and joy into performing the story that he loved so much. Maverick thought he’d never have a family again after he lost Goose. But there it was, sitting right in front of him, clear as day.
“ ‘Now Gandalf led the way,’ ” Ice was saying. He switched into a grumpy old wizard voice as he read, “‘ We must not miss the road, or we shall be done for!’ ”
Bradley giggled. Mav cleared his throat. He hated to interrupt but also couldn’t be left out of this for the world.
“Reading without me?” he asked. Ice stopped reading and Bradley looked up.
“There you are, Maverick,” said Ice fondly.
“Uncle Mav!” said Bradley. “We’re just past the part with the Trolls, we read that last night.”
“I remember,” said Mav with a smile. “Uncle Ice did the voices, didn’t he?”
Bradley nodded. Ice glared at Maverick with exaggerated annoyance.
“You better not bring that up to anyone on base,” he said.
“Of course not. I’ll wait until I have adequate cause to blackmail you,” Maverick said with an evil grin. Ice rolled his eyes.
“Sorry we started without you, Uncle Mav,” said Bradley. “You just always fall asleep!”
“That was only twice,” said Maverick, his triumphant grin melting into an embarrassed scowl. “I’m not gonna fall asleep.”
“I don’t know, you might!” said Bradley.
“I’m not! ” Mav protested in vain, fighting (and losing) a verbal battle against a seven year old.
“Let’s find out, huh?” said Ice, eyebrow raised. He extended his free hand, leaving the empty space open beside him. “Come here, Pete.”
Maverick felt his cheeks heat involuntarily. Ice knew that was the way to melt him. Mav rolled his eyes and sighed in a huff as Ice shot that killer grin at him. He gave in and collapsed on the couch. Ice wrapped his arm around him, pulled him in, and oh, yeah, that was wonderful.
Their couch was incredibly soft, and the pillows, dented and squashed from having a rowdy second grader in the house, were placed so perfectly as Mav sat down that he didn’t want to get up. Ice wrapped his free arm completely around him, holding him wonderfully close and taking his breath away.
Ice’s callsign was complete bullshit. Mav knew and had experienced firsthand, along with a few other friends, that Ice had a certain lovely warmness to him. He barely let anyone close enough to touch him, but when he did, his hugs were glorious. His body seemed to always be at the perfect temperature, enough to warm Mav down to the soul. He only had his arm around him, but it felt like Ice was cradling him in his arms close to his chest. And with their size difference, Mav just felt more safe, secure, and comfortable.
He sighed and cuddled closer, head falling on his lover’s chest.
“Happy?” asked Ice. Mav just blushed and nodded.
“He’s totally gonna fall asleep,” said Bradley.
“Am not,” said Mav, but he knew deep down inside that he was already a goner.
“Can we just get back to reading?” said Ice, and continued with the story.
Mav’s eyes widened as he suddenly remembered exactly why he had fallen asleep so quickly the last few times as Ice began narrating. Because absolutely nothing in the world compared to Tom Iceman Kazansky’s voice.
“ ‘Morning passed, and afternoon came, but in all the silent waste there was no sign of any dwelling, ’” Ice narrated matter-of factly.
Soothing was a proper word to describe it, but it wasn’t the only one. Because there’s more than one way to be soothing. Listening to Ice was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. His voice was rich and resonant, and so incredibly deep that it made Mav’s ears flush red, out of jealousy (as he thought about his own voice) and something quite different (as he thought about… something quite different).
But not only was Ice’s voice strong, it was also articulate and precise. Just like his flying. Not a single syllable was out of place, not a single pronunciation was awkward, and not once was the emphasis placed on the wrong word in a sentence. This made listening to him relaxing in its own way, because Mav’s mind knew what to expect as the words meandered down scenic paths, removing any anxieties of imperfections. Mav let out a contented sigh against his will as the story washed over him, along with the sleepiness that came with it.
“ ‘They saw a valley far below. They could hear the voice of hurrying water in a rocky bed at the bottom; the scent of trees was in the air; and there was a light on the valley-side across the water.
Blibo never forgot the way they slithered and slipped in the dusk down the steep zig-zag path into the secret valley of Rivendell. The air grew warmer as they got lower, and the smell of the pine-trees made him drowsy, so that every now and again he nodded and nearly fell off, or bumped his nose on the pony’s neck.’ ”
Bradley let out a little laugh, but it was half-hearted, and Mav could see from his angle that Bradley had abandoned his bouncing position near the book and had completely fallen against Ice, his little head nestled in the crook of his arm.
Good, thought Maverick, I won’t be the first one asleep.
And then Ice started narrating once again.
Ice’s voice had quite the effect on Maverick. But so did every goddamn thing about him. Even the little things. The way he flipped the pages with just his thumb and little finger. The way he habitually had to stop reading to push his glasses up with the hand that held the book, because he didn’t want to take his other arm away from Maverick. The way he made faces in order to do the silly voices that Bradley loved so. All of it made Maverick want to swoon. He should have just accepted that he was going to fall before he even sat down.
But Mav, of course, was nothing if not stubborn.
He managed to keep his eyes open through the next few pages, which was surprising, because most of it was just descriptions of landscape, which were already boring as it was. He was fighting consciousness as the Hobbits began nearing Rivendell. But he was still awake, and as far as he could tell Bradley was too. He smiled satisfiedly, thinking he might just get through this chapter. Oh, he had thought so wrong.
Because Ice played dirty.
They were just wrapping up the long descriptions, and Mav was just getting used to the slow, meander-y way that Tolkien wrote. Then they came up on one of the many songs scattered throughout the book.
It was a silly little travel-song, but the meter was lovely and the words inspired lovely images to dance across Mav’s head as he fought to keep it upright. And Ice didn’t so much sing it as he did recite it. His voice was even lovelier fit into a rhythm, washing over him like perfectly syncopated waves at the beach.
As Maverick listened to his lover, drowsiness spreading through him, Ice’s hand slowly dragged up from Maverick’s side. Still talking, still immersed in the story, Ice brought his hand to Mav’s head and gently brought it closer, resting it down on his chest to lie still and comfortable. Mav relaxed at this immediately, still hanging onto every word he said. Ice’s hand stayed on his head for a beat, ruffling and curling around his dark black hair.
Maverick closed his eyes and everything melted away. There was only Ice, and his hands, and his voice that sounded so far away. His body involuntarily went pliant at Ice’s touch as he felt nothing but his fingers dragging gently down his head to that spot behind his ear.
Bastard, he’s doing this on purpose , Mav thought as he lost his grip on his consciousness, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Ice’s fingers made their way down to his collarbone, dragging gently across and dipping down below the collar of his shirt.
Mav let out a little satisfied hum as his mind went blank. There was nothing, nothing but Ice’s gentle hands and his incredible voice that Mav could no longer pick out the words of.
Beautiful , thought Mav, beautiful and perfect , and he succumbed to the will of his consciousness and fell asleep against Ice’s chest.
Ice finished the chapter and carefully closed up the book. He had a sleeping Maverick on one side of him and a half asleep Bradley Bradshaw in his lap. He leaned over slowly to Mav and kissed his fluffy, messed up hair. The movement immediately shook Bradley to consciousness and he straightened up as quickly as he could.
“Alright, kiddo, let’s get you into bed,” he said.
“What? No! I wasn’t even asleep!” he protested.
“I know,” said Ice, and lowered his voice, “It’s for your uncle Maverick. He’s too tired to finish the story.”
“Aww man,” said Bradley, “but I wanna hear the rest of the chapter!”
“You can hear the rest tomorrow,” said Ice, “And that’s that.”
“But-”
“Bradley, listen to your uncle,” Mav murmured from Ice’s side, clearly having woken up silently.
“See?” said Ice. “He’s too tired to finish and he’ll be sad he missed out.”
Bradley pouted. Ice shrugged in resignation.
“Alright, fine, stay up,” he said. “I guess that means I’m not going to carry you into bed.”
‘“WAIT-”
After gently shifting a sleepy Mav off of his shoulder and into the couch cushions behind him, Ice scooped up Bradley and carried him down the hall.
“I really liked the voices you did,” said Bradley as Ice set him down in his bed and tucked him in.
“Really?” said Ice, grinning. “Well, I’m glad. Sleep well, kiddo. See you in the morning.”
Ice stood up to turn out the lights, but Bradley stopped him before he could get off the ground.
“Uncle Ice?” he said.
“What is it, Baby Goose?”
“You’re not really my uncle, are you?”
Ice sighed as he knelt back down, trying to put together the best way to explain this. About Mav’s relationship to Goose. About his relationship to Mav . There was no real easy way to say it, and he struggled for a beat before Bradley interrupted.
“You’re my Dad,” he said.
The words were like a punch of emotions directly to the heart and Ice felt himself tear up.
Not in front of the kid, he told himself, and sucked it in, as much as it pained him.
“You and uncle Mav,” Bradley continued. “I know you’re not really my dads and I still wanna call you Uncle Ice but.. But you’re like dads because…” the kid took a breath and let out something that had clearly been bothering him for a while.
“Yesterday when you guys picked me up from school, Katrina from my class said, ‘Bradley your dads are here,’ and… I didn’t tell her you were my uncles. I let her think you were my dads. Is that okay? That I did that?”
It was taking every ounce of Ice’s strength not to tear up.
“Of course that’s okay, Baby Goose,” he said.
“Okay,” said Bradley, his little voice wavering. Ice held out his arms and Bradley escaped from his covers and shuffled in to hug him, clinging to him like a baby koala.
“I… I already told Uncle Mav and he said it was okay to say that, I just- I just wanted to tell you also,” he said.
“I’m glad you did, Bradley, that’s perfectly alright that you said that.”
Bradley nodded, his little face buried in Ice’s shoulder. Ice waited until he pulled away and then tucked him in, wrapping the covers securely around him once more. For good measure, he leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of his fluffy golden head.
“It’s time to go to sleep now,” he said. Ice flicked off the light switch. The stars on Bradley’s ceiling lit up green. “Goodnight, Bradley. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“Goodnight, Uncle Ice.”
Ice closed the door quietly, so that the doorknob didn’t snap, and stood outside the door for a second. He breathed in and then out.
This was really happening.
The kid in the next room was really his and Mav’s. And he liked having them as fathers.
A few tears escaped Ice’s face, but that was it.
Ice opened the living room door to see Mav, still half asleep on the couch, but sprawled out like a starfish now that he was the only one there. His mouth was open and his head was hanging over one of the pillows, hair in a spiky mess, as one of his arms was crooked into an awkward position against the back of the couch. Ice’s heart fluttered. That was his Mav. He wouldn’t have him any other way.
“Your turn,” Ice whispered with a smile. He tiptoed to the couch and fondly scooped up his wingman, bridal style, cradling Mav’s head to his chest as he secured his legs with his other arm. He was much heavier than he looked, but Ice was strong for a reason.
As he hauled him up off the couch, Mav writhed and grunted in his arms.
“C’mon, Ice, no fair,” he mumbled.
“Go back to sleep,” Ice said softly as he flicked out the light with his elbow and carefully carried Mav to the bedroom. Surprisingly, Mav obliged and settled back into Ice’s arms until he was unceremoniously deposited onto the bed.
Mav gave a little “Hmph” as he woke up enough to get undressed.
“You can’t just… pick me up like that,” said Mav, looking up at Ice, still sleepy. The lines from the pillow were pressed into his face and his hair was sticking straight up. Ice chuckled.
“I thought you said you weren’t gonna fall asleep,” Ice said smugly, a little glimpse of their pre-relationship rivalry flashing through. Mav rolled his eyes and collapsed onto the bed.
“It’s not fair, with your voice like that, it’s like you’re cheating,” Mav whined.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Ice flatly as he pulled off his own clothes. “Move.”
Mav shuffled out of the way as Ice slid into the bed next to him, and then held out his arms as he closed the distance between them.
“Ah, man!” Mav said suddenly as he wriggled out of Ice’s embrace to look up at him. “Did I miss saying goodnight to Bradley?”
“It’s alright,” said Ice comfortingly as he fixed Mav’s hair absently. “I tucked him in.”
“Oh good,” said Mav, relaxing again. Ice’s breath suddenly caught in his chest as he debated telling Mav.
“He, um…” Ice began, already feeling his throat becoming tight. After a beat, Ice didn’t say anything.
“Hm? What’s up, Ice?” Maverick looked up at him with those big green eyes, waiting for him to finish. Ice choked back a sob and continued.
“He called me Dad.”
Mav’s expression changed in half a second and suddenly he was looking awfully sentimental too.
“Oh,” said Maverick. “Oh, Ice.” Mav was smiling slightly as his hand slid up Ice’s shoulder. Ice felt him cradle the back of his neck and that’s what made him break, finally relaxing his heart as he let out sobs of disbelief and emotion and joy, burying his face in Mav’s chest. He only cried a little and when he broke away the release hit him like euphoria and Mav was there to gently wipe the tears off of his face. He took a few deep, shaking breaths as Mav spoke.
“I’m so proud of us, Ice,” he mused. “I never would have dreamed we could-”
“Me neither,” said Ice, voice still wavering. “But here we are.”
“Yeah,” said Mav, drowsiness hanging heavy on his tongue still. He brought his arms fully around Ice and pulled him to his chest, tangling their legs together for good measure.
“I think we both need to go to sleep,” Maverick murmured.
“You first,” Ice joked, his playful little smirk hidden in the darkness.
“Not a chance,” Mav shot back, practically absent-mindedly at this point. And they fell asleep together.