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Ice isn't entirely sure how long he’s been staring blankly at the wall with his jaw clenched, spinning his Academy ring around his finger with his thumb, but he knows it's been at least ten minutes since he got off the phone. He must look as shell-shocked as he feels because Mav stops in his path as he walks by.
“What’s wrong?” Mav asks, concerned.
Ice doesn’t answer for a long few seconds, just keeps thumbing his ring around his finger.
“Katie’s boyfriend called me. He wants to have lunch, just me and him. And he asked me not to tell Katie.”
Both of Mav’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Well, shit,” Mav announces.
Ice just nods reluctantly. “Well, shit,” he agrees.
“You gonna say yes?”
Ice shrugs noncommittally. “He seems like a good kid. Steady. Has a good job. Respectful. And Katie is wild about him. I don’t really have a reason to say ‘no’, do I?”
“They’re pretty young,” Mav offers.
Ice waves it off with his hand. “She’s twenty-four. Same age Sarah was when I married her.”
They sit in silence for a while before Ice adds, “Besides, it’s all just a formality these days, isn’t it?”
Mav tilts his head in acknowledgment. “Guess it is. So when is this lunch with your future son-in-law?”
Ice drags his hand down over his face. “Future son-in-law. Jesus Christ.”
Mav laughs at him, “Might as well get used to it now, old man.”
-
It’s easy to spot Matthew from across the restaurant; he’s the over-dressed one visibly sweating, pulling at the knot of his tie, and nearly on the verge of a panic attack. It satisfies an admittedly caveman-ish part of Ice’s brain to know the kid is this terrified of him. He practically jumps out of his seat when he finally notices Ice, nearly knocking over his glass of water in his scramble.
Matthew holds out a clammy hand in greeting with a nod of his head and a deferential, “Sir.”
Ice doesn’t say a word, just gives him a firm handshake and a nod before taking his seat.
Matthew clears his throat and pats his napkin flat in his lap after he retakes his seat.
“So, uh, how are you today, sir?” he asks nervously, an edge of terror in his voice.
The corner of Ice’s lips twitch up, amused, but he works hard to suppress it. “I’m well,” he says and nothing else, no life raft for Matthew to cling to. If he wants to take Ice’s baby girl, he’s going to have to earn it.
They make it through the salad course with strained, stilted conversation that Ice makes no effort to smooth over before Matthew works up the courage to do what he brought them both here to do.
“Um, Miste- Admiral Kazansky, sir, I, uh, I wanted to ask you something,” Matthew rambles. After fumbling in his pocket, he pulls out a black velvet ring box. Ice can’t resist. “I’m flattered, Matthew, truly,” Ice says dryly, “But I’m already taken.”
Matthew’s mouth opens but no sound comes out and he’s clearly so far out of his depth that Ice can’t help but laugh a little and take pity on him.
“Let’s see it then, kid. I already know you’ve got great taste in women. Let’s see how you are with rings.”
Matthew hands it over in a daze, not saying a word to Ice, and Ice lifts the cover of the velvet box. The ring is beautiful. Simple and classic, not some modern monstrosity. Just a single beautiful diamond well-set in a gold band. Ice can imagine Katie wearing it so easily. Ice can’t help but smile at it. Matthew knows her, knows what she likes.
“You knocked it out of the park, Matt. You did well. Katie’s gonna love it.”
“So, uh, so it’s okay with you? I mean, for me to ask?” He asks, voice on the edge of cracking.
Ice looks him over for a long moment and, after a breath, nods.
“I could do worse for a son-in-law.” And Matthew beams at him.
With the weight finally off his shoulders, Matthew is a much better lunch companion and a decent conversationalist. The two of them have a good time exchanging stories about Katie and her runaway mouth getting her into trouble. Ice gets to tell his favorite one to Matt again about the time Katie accidentally talked her way into a speeding ticket when the cop who pulled her over was just trying to give her a warning.
Sitting alone in his car after lunch, after going back and forth with himself for a long while, Ice pulls out his phone and unlocks it. He hesitates again for a moment before he pulls up Sarah's number. It takes him a few tries to get the message right, careful with his words before he hits send.
I thought you might like a heads up. I just had lunch with Matthew. Without Katie.
Three dots appear and after a minute, his phone vibrates in his hand and a message from Sarah pops up. Thanks for letting me know.
A few moments later a second text comes through.
Think he'll ask for my permission too?
Ice laughs to himself, shooting back a quick If he's smart without a second thought.
His phone buzzes again. I guess we'll see.
-
It’s not even a week later that Katie calls him, ecstatic, talking a mile a minute, telling him the whole story of Matt taking her out to Joshua Tree and dropping down on one knee at the Lost Palm Oasis. Katie wants a family meeting with both sets of parents to start the wedding planning and Ice tells her to name the time and place. He’ll agree to just about anything Katie asks of him right now with how excited she is, even if 'anything' means driving up to Los Angeles for an over-priced brunch with his ex-wife and two strangers.
With a long good-bye kiss from Mav on his way out the door for courage, Ice starts his ninety minute drive north up the Five. He’s the first in their party to arrive at the restaurant and the waiter leads him to a table set for six on the patio. Not even two minutes later, the waiter escorts Sarah to the table. He sees her freeze for a moment when she spots him and it makes something heavy churn in his gut.
A year and a half is a long time and he’s changed a lot since the last time he saw Sarah. It had been Katie’s college graduation, just a month after Ice had officially retired. His hair had still been regulation length then and his ear still unpierced. He sees Sarah's gaze linger for just a moment on the gold ring in his ear and it unsettles him.
There’s something so different about being seen as he is now by a person who has known him so long, who has known so much of him. With new people, people who don’t have an idea of him in their mind, it’s nothing at all to be seen with the earring and the hair. But he knows it must be so strange to her, how different he looks now, especially when she looks just the same as she always has, beautiful and so well put together.
“You look good, Tom. It suits you,” she says eventually, gesturing to the whole of him, with his shaggy, chin-length hair and his patterned button-down and his gold earring.
“Thank you,” he offers back, quiet and sincere. She takes the seat across from him and asks the waiter to bring a bottle of champagne for the table.
“Did Matthew ever ask for your permission?” he asks, breaking the ice.
Sarah smiles a little and answers, “He did.”
“Smart kid.”
“You like him, then?” Sarah asks.
Ice takes a moment to think it over, “Yeah, he's a good kid. And even if I didn’t like him, Katie’s crazy for him, so what could I do?”
Before Sarah gets the chance to respond, Katie and Matthew step out onto the patio hand-in-hand, a glittering diamond on Katie’s left hand to complement the brilliant, beaming smile on her face. An older couple, Matthew’s parents, Ice assumes, walk out just a step behind them. Sarah and Ice both stand, Ice offering Matthew a handshake and pressing a kiss to Katie’s cheek while Sarah greets Matthew’s parents, then swapping, Ice introducing himself to Matthew’s parents and Sarah congratulating the happy couple.
Excitement and joy are radiating off Katie in waves. She’s glowing. Matt is much quieter, less effusive, but still just as visibly thrilled, and he’s staring at Katie like she hung the moon, exactly as he should be. Their happiness eases all other tensions. There’s a bit of chit-chat and small talk, but all roads lead back to the wedding.
When the conversation makes its way to wedding colors, Ice interjects, asking, “Should I get a dark green suit, then?”
Katie looks at him baffled. “A suit? What about your uniform?”
Ice freezes for a moment before answering, “I hadn’t planned on wearing it.”
“Oh.” It’s the first time today Katie hasn’t looked incandescently happy and Ice can’t stand it.
“Do you want me to wear it?”
He sees Katie’s eyes flick down to the earring in his ear and she bites her bottom lip for a moment, just a beat of hesitation before she answers, “No, whatever you want, Daddy.”
That just won’t do. “No, baby, whatever you want,” he says emphatically.
She chews on her lip for a little while, thinking it all over, and eventually, she says, “I… when I was little, whenever I imagined it, I had this vision of it. I guess I just always imagined you walking me down the aisle in your uniform.”
“Then that's exactly what it’s going to be,” Ice informs her and she smiles at him. “Blues or whites?” he asks.
Katie’s jaw drops in over-dramatic, performative offense. “‘Blue or white?!’ It’s my wedding! I will be the only person wearing white, thank you very much!”
All of them laugh and Ice defers to her authority. “Yes, ma’am. Blues it is.”
He excuses himself from the table claiming a bathroom break, and makes his way to the maitre d' to pay the check, heading off the inevitable bill fight between him, Matthew's parents, and Sarah. Signing his name across the bottom of his receipt, Ice shakes his head. Katie's taste has never been cheap and Ice knows this is just the opening volley, an ominous sign of things to come.
As he assumed, the restaurant check is the first of many large bills he pays over the coming months. Once a week at least, he gets a text or an email from Katie with a link to a wedding venue or a photographer or a restaurant to book out for the rehearsal dinner. Mercifully, Sarah covers the dress and the flowers and the happy couple are paying for their own honeymoon, but the rest of the invoices make their way to Ice. Mav laughs at him as Ice pinches the bridge of his nose and enters his card number for the tenth time in three weeks. "At least you're only doing it the once," Mav says. "Real smart of Sarah to cut you off at one. We'd have to sell the Mustang to cover it all if you had another.”
-
With Maverick out at the hangar for the weekend, Ice finally decides to do what he’s been putting off. He can’t avoid it much longer if he wants to have enough time for alterations and he knows it, so he pulls the black garment bag from the back of his and Mav's closet and lays it out on the bed. It’s been two years since he’s worn the uniform, and something a little like fear wells up inside him staring at it. But Ice has never been the sort of man to let his feelings get in the way of doing what needs to be done, so he pulls it off the hanger and puts it on.
It doesn’t fit quite right, the uniform making it undeniably clear that he’s put on some weight since retirement. He’ll need to take it to a tailor to let out a few seams, but, staring at himself in the mirror, he knows the uniform isn’t the only thing that he’ll need to change. His hand drifts up to graze over the thin gold ring that’s been at home in his right earlobe for the last year and a half.
Three months after Ice’s official retirement, General Dynamics had flown Maverick out east to DC for a week, trying to sweet talk him into a consulting contract, and that’s when Ice did it. One week gone, and when Maverick came back, it had taken him less than thirty seconds to spot the difference.
“Is that thing real?” Mav had asked incredulously. Ice nodded, refusing to look up from his book.
“You got your ear pierced,” Maverick reiterated, clearly trying for a neutral tone, but Ice could hear the shock slipping through.
“Thought I’d try it out,” is all Ice replied, steadfastly keeping his eyes glued to the page.
Mav stayed quiet for a long moment and the temptation to look up and search Maverick’s face for judgement was hard to resist, but Ice held strong.
“Looks good,” Mav had finally said, letting Ice off the hook. He’s never asked anything else about it and Ice has always been grateful for it, grateful for the way Mav understands him, knows when to push and when to leave it alone. It isn’t something Ice knows how to talk about, how badly he wanted it, for how long he wanted that gold hoop through his right ear. Decades. Forty years at least. Since the brave, reckless night in 1981 when twenty-one year old Tom Kazansky finally worked up the courage to go cruising. For as long as he lives, he’ll never forget that gorgeous punk he fucked in a public bathroom stall, his denim jacket and a pocket bandana and a gold hoop earring through his right earlobe.
Retirement has offered Ice so much freedom, the ability to try any new thing he likes, to look however he wants to look. And Ice has taken advantage of every new opportunity, experimenting with his hair and his clothes and his jewelry.
But all of it will have to go before he walks Katie down the aisle. To wear the uniform is to present himself as the Navy ordered him. Hair will be no more than 2 inches in bulk, 4 inches in length and not to extend below the eyebrows. He could probably get away with not cutting his hair if he were anyone else; he’s seen retired old men in uniform breaking dress code before. But a retired Admiral? And besides, it isn’t in Ice’s soul to disrespect the uniform. To sully the uniform is to sully the institution. If he’s going to wear it, he’s going to wear it right.
He loves his earring and he loves his long hair, but he loves his daughter more. Walking down the aisle with him in uniform is what will make Katie happy, and since the moment she was born, making Katie happy has been the thing Ice has wanted more than anything else. He would do far worse things for Katie’s happiness than cut his hair and take out his earring.
-
The day before the rehearsal dinner, Ice works up the courage to walk into his old barbershop. “Kazansky! I thought I’d seen the last of you,” Saul calls from the back of the shop. He’s in his seventies now, at least a decade and a half older than Ice.
“I’m like a bad penny, Saul. I just keep showing up, you can’t get rid of me.”
Saul doesn't waste a moment, quickly guiding Ice to a chair in front of a mirror.
“Boy, that mop of yours sure did get long, didn’t it?” Saul tells him, talking into the mirror, and then runs his hand over the shiny, bald top of his own head. “I’m jealous!”
Ice takes a fortifying breath. “I’m here for the usual, Saul.”
“Coming right up,” Saul says as he turns to his bag and puts a guard on the electric trimmer.
Just as Saul goes to shave, Ice holds up his hand. “Maybe a little longer than that,” he says, staring apprehensively at the clippers.
Saul laughs and the ominous buzzing noise stops as Saul flips the switch off.
-
Ice can’t stop running his fingers through his freshly-cut hair the whole drive home. His head feels lighter and his ears are a little cold. It’s strange how quickly he’d gotten used to having it long. His whole life until now, he’s kept it short and regulation. He really hadn’t been expecting to feel quite so off-kilter.
Maverick can read him like a book, and the second Ice walks through the door, Mav offers him a commiserating smile and presses a soft, comforting kiss to his lips. Ice leans forward into it, letting Mav take all his weight and his troubles for the moment. A surprised noise slips from Mav’s mouth into his when Ice turns the kiss dirty, but Maverick doesn’t miss a beat, just opens his mouth and lets Ice slip his tongue past his lips. They stumble through the kitchen and into the living room, Mav collapsing back onto the couch, Ice crawling into his lap without breaking the kiss.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ice sees Maverick’s hand blindly skirt over the couch cushions, feeling around until he lands his hand on a throw pillow. Mav grabs it and drops it on the floor between his feet, then he breaks the kiss with a gentle shove and a nod toward the pillow. Ice has always been good at following orders.
Mav’s fingers thread into his short hair, a tight grip that keeps Ice exactly where Mav wants him, on his knees with his lips wrapped around Mav’s cock. When Mav is finished and Ice is resting his head on Mav’s knee, gasping for breath, Maverick keeps petting him, gently combing his fingers through Ice’s hair.
-
The dress rehearsal makes it all more real in a way Ice didn’t realize was possible. He can hardly bring himself to believe that his daughter is grown enough to be getting married, but here they all are, taking their places, Katie threading her arm through his as they walk together down the undecorated aisle in an empty church. It doesn’t even take an hour for them to run it through from start to finish and Ice’s head is still spinning as they all get in their cars and make their way to the restaurant Katie had him book out for dinner.
Matthew's father Robert steps up with his hand outstretched and a wide, friendly smile on his face. "Here he is, the man of the hour! The checkbook for this whole operation." He says it with such humor and warmth that Ice can’t help but laugh.
"Enjoy it on someone else’s dime while it lasts. Katie tells me you're up next," Ice says, tilting his head toward the gaggle of bridesmaids taking pictures together, Matthew's sister among them.
Robert jokingly puts his hand over his chest and mimes an injury. "Don't remind me.” He turns to Maverick, saying, “And you must be Maverick. Katie’s told me all about you.”
Katie’s told me all about you. There’s no malice in it, only a genuine, kind sincerity, but Ice can’t help but feel on edge about it. It never used to bother him to know he was the subject of conversation, possessed of enough self-assurance to believe that every story told of him was told, at the very least, with a grudging respect. But things are different now. It’s a different type of talk, a different type of gossip. Maverick and Ice. A pairing in need of an explanation, a story anyone who knows it is excited to tell, the type of juicy scuttlebutt everyone wants to hear.
Maverick shakes Robert’s hand and charms him the way he does everyone else and then deftly, masterfully, sends him on his way. Maverick’s eyes meet Ice’s and without a word spoken between them, they both turn and make their way to the bar.
“I’ll take a glass of that peanut butter whiskey,” Mav tells the bartender, pointing at a bottle on the high shelf.
Ice can’t keep the horrified, disgusted look off his face at Mav’s order and both Mav and the bartender laugh at him.
“Hey, it’s an open bar. No better time to try it out than now, see if it’s good. Not often you get a free sample for booze.”
Ice lets out a huff. “Not free for me,” he grumbles under his breath as Mav suspiciously sniffs at the drink in his hand. Ice watches with a curious eye as Mav braves a first sip. After a moment of savoring, he shrugs and goes back for a second sip, so it must not taste half as terrible as it sounds.
Mav freezes up for just a moment before forcing himself to relax and, under his breath, warns, “On your six,” giving Ice the heads-up any good wingman would. Ice casually turns around just in time to see Sarah walk up. She nods at Ice before leaning in to smile at the bartender, “I’ll take a glass of whichever cab you can get your hands on first.”
Mav pipes up from his spot against the bar, “And don’t skimp on that pour, Mr. Bartender. That’s the mother of the bride you’re talking to.”
The bartender offers his congratulations to Sarah as he tips out a generous pour of cabernet.
Sarah raises a sly eyebrow at Ice as she swirls the wine in her glass and Ice braces himself. He knows that look well, spent twenty years with that look.“What kind of sucker pays for an open bar at the rehearsal dinner?”
Mav cackles as he raises his glass and Sarah clinks hers against it, then Mav answers for him. “The kind of sucker who never learned how to say ‘no’ to his daughter.”
“Well, I guess I can’t fault him for that,” Sarah allows with a smile.
“You look gorgeous, Sarah,” Mav says as he sips at his whiskey. “And that’s one hell of a statement piece around your neck.”
Maverick is right on both counts. Sarah looks incredible and the necklace is a real show-stopper. Ice had thought it was beautiful when he bought it for her fifteen years ago and it’s still true now. It suits her. An eye-catching necklace on a head-turning woman. Having spent the evening watching Sarah manage the room, Ice can’t possibly be blind to it, can’t help but remember what it was like to be the man she spent her nights conspiring with when he dragged her to dreary, dull Navy dinners and galas.
As miserable as those parties always were, nothing in his life has ever felt like walking into a room with Sarah on his arm. It was a truly special type of head rush. Every eye in the room on him, the satisfaction of knowing every man in the room wished he was exactly where Ice was, with his hand on Sarah’s waist.
Ice makes a very different sort of statement walking into a room these days, hand-in-hand with Maverick Mitchell. All eyes on him for a very different sort of reason, a reason Ice still isn’t quite sure how to handle. It isn’t shame. Maybe some distant cousin of it, a remembered echo of it. An unsettled feeling he’s still learning to work through.
Ice is so keenly aware of the eyes on the three of them now. Two of Katie’s bridesmaids, old friends of hers from high school, are whispering to each other on the other side of the room, trying unsuccessfully to be discreet in the way they’re staring at Ice and Maverick standing with Sarah, the three of them all together. Sarah and Maverick must feel it too, the weight of so many people surreptitiously watching, but they’re both so self-assured, it doesn’t touch them.
Sarah just smiles a little as she runs her fingers over the large teardrop emerald. “Tom gave it to me for our tenth anniversary,” she tells Maverick. She’s messing with him a little, Ice can tell. The two of them haven't quite settled on how to talk to each other since Maverick and Ice fell into this deepening of their relationship after the divorce. Sarah and Maverick had always liked each other before, but Ice suspects Sarah’s not quite sure how to feel about him now. So Ice stays quiet while she toys with him.
Maverick’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly no idea how he’s supposed to reply, but Sarah takes pity on him and turns to Ice. “You know, I thought about getting rid of all the jewelry you bought me after the divorce, a fresh start and all that, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. You have such good taste.”
Maverick, having regained his footing, interjects, “He’s got great taste in a lot of things. Booze, jewelry, women,” and he sends a disarming wink in Sarah’s direction.
Sarah raises a sharp eyebrow, adding, “Men,” to the list. Neither of them know what to do with that, but Sarah rescues them, redirecting.
“So,” she says, clearing her throat, “Either of you gentlemen interested in wagering on how many people at the reception imply that a gay love affair imploded my marriage?”
Ouch. Maybe not a rescue, then. Maybe more of a ‘throwing them further into the deep end’. Ice drags a hand down over his face and Mav barks out a slightly uncomfortable laugh beside him.
There were plenty of things Ice mourned the loss of in the divorce, but his in-laws were definitely not among them. He doesn’t envy Sarah at all having to deal with their judgement and their questions. There was no affair, Ice has never been that sort of man, but that sort of uninteresting truth means nothing in the face of a much more exciting, salacious rumor. If there were any way to spare Sarah the indignity of all this without diminishing Maverick, hiding him away and acting ashamed of him, he would. But as far as Ice can tell, it’s a lost cause.
“What’s your over-under?” Mav asks her, a little morbidly.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” Ice breathes out and Sarah and Mav both laugh at him.
As smart as a whip and without a moment of pause, Sarah answers a little wryly, “Six point five.”
Mav scoffs, “That’s easy money. I’ll take the over on that, all day, every day.”
Sarah’s face settles into a rueful smile, nearly a wince, entirely resigned, and she takes a large mouthful from her glass, finishing it off. “Yeah, that sounds about right, Maverick. That’s the smart bet.”
A part of Ice wants to apologize to her, but he can’t say he really regrets any of it, and there’s nothing Sarah hates more than an insincere apology. “I told the bartenders to stock a few bottles of Monastrell for you tomorrow night,” Ice offers. It’s the only thing he can.
Sarah breathes out an amused huff, then leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, toasting her empty glass to him as she steps away.
-
The next morning, Ice falls back into his old routine without missing a beat, as if he hasn’t been retired and out of the habit for years now. He takes a morning run, showers and shaves his face, combs and gels his hair, then steps into his uniform, neatly pinning on all his decorations. Looking himself over in the mirror, he has to admit he cleans up well even after all this time. He’s almost perfect.
A thin gold ring is still reflecting the bright vanity lights in the mirror. He fiddles with it for a moment before sliding it out of his ear and placing it on the counter. It’s just for the day, he reminds himself. It feels silly to care about on a day like today, the day of his daughter’s wedding, and he shakes it off, nodding seriously at himself in the mirror. It’s Katie’s day and nothing else matters.
Maverick is already dressed in his suit, looking as incredible and handsome as he always does when Ice steps out of the en suite back into the bedroom. It’s really too early to go to the church, and they don’t need to be there for another hour at least, but Maverick asks him if he’s ready to go. It’s a gift to be known and Maverick Mitchell never stops giving.
When they arrive at the venue, Maverick presses a soft kiss to Ice’s lips while they share their last moment of privacy in the car, and promises, “I’ll see you at the reception,” before swinging the door open and stepping out. Maverick gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they separate in the main entrance of the venue, Ice heading toward the bridal suite and Maverick toward the main hall. Ice takes a deep breath and knocks on the bridal suite door. After a moment, Sarah's head pops out.
“No boys allowed. Katie's rule, not mine," she says with a smile on her face. “She says you have to wait until she's ready for you to see her.”
Ice huffs and tilts his head in deference. They’re all following Katie’s orders today and following orders is what Ice does best. “It shouldn't be much longer,” Sarah reassures him before she firmly shuts the door. Ice takes up his spot as door guard, leaning against the wall, perhaps a bit more casually than he should while he’s in uniform, watching as the guests start to trickle their way in.
About ninety seconds before the procession is supposed to start, Sarah sticks her head out of the bridal suite and calls him in. He spots Katie across the room, looking in a mirror and fidgeting with the veil pinned into her long brown hair. She smiles when she sees him and turns, swishing the bustle of her white dress behind her. “What do you think?” Katie asks him so sweetly. He can read the nervousness on her, the weight of everything that’s about to happen, the commitment she's about to make.
“You look like an angel,” he tells her. “Absolutely perfect.” And she does. He’s never seen anyone more beautiful. She looks like her mother and the resemblance is so sharp that a part of Ice feels an uncanny sense of deja vu, remembering the vision of Sarah and her father making their way down the aisle to Ice twenty-five years ago. Katie smiles at him.
“You ready?” he asks, and a brief look of panic flashes across her face, before she laughs and nods.
Sarah reaches up and straightens the collar of his uniform and it’s a disorienting type of familiar. She must notice the way he freezes up because she lets out a soft “Sorry,” under her breath as she drops her hands.
Ice shakes his head, reassuring, “It’s fine, nothing to be sorry for.”
They both look away from each other, toward Katie and Ice can’t feel anything right now except extraordinary, unending gratitude to Sarah for all that she gave him.
He holds out his arm and Katie laces hers through it.
The music starts to play and the procession begins, Matt and his mother first, then Sarah and Matt’s father, followed by all the bridesmaids and groomsmen paired together until the music stops and there’s a ringing moment of silence.
That’s their cue.
Katie is practically buzzing beside him and the bridal march begins. He presses a kiss to her cheek just before they turn the corner and the two of them slowly make their way down the aisle. When they reach the end, Ice has no choice left but to hand her over to Matthew and take his seat in the front row. Ice finds he can’t focus on anything at all, can’t think, just watches in a daze as his girl gets married.
Nothing quite registers or feels real again until he’s watching Katie dance with Matthew at the reception.
There are so many emotions roiling inside him and he isn’t sure he can put a name to any of them. As the last few notes of the song play, Matthew walks her over to Ice and hands her off so Ice and Katie can dance.
Katie’s already crying a little as she places her hand in his and steps in close, leaning against him. Ice presses a kiss into her hair, “You look so beautiful, baby.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“I’m so happy for you. I hope he keeps making you this happy,” Ice manages to say without getting choked up, but he needs to pause to keep it together. “And I hope you know you always have a place in my house, Kitty Kat. You ever get tired of him, you just come on over.” Katie laughs through her tears and nods into his chest. He presses a kiss to her cheek as the song ends and leads her back to Matthew, who is finishing up a dance with his mother.
The DJ transitions the music away from the slower pace and Ice steps off the dance floor, making way for all of Katie and Matthew’s friends as he heads off to the private backroom where Maverick had stashed his change of clothes for him. He closes his eyes and braces his hands against the countertop, unspeakably relieved to have this moment in private to collect himself. The sound of the door opening behind him startles him into standing upright, but he relaxes when he realizes it isn’t anyone he needs to hide from. It’s just Mav.
It’s been long enough since he disappeared from the reception that people might notice his absence and Ice makes for the button of his uniform jacket, but Mav reaches out and grabs his wrist. “Just give me a minute,” Mav tells him and Ice raises an eyebrow but does as he asks, dropping his hand to hang at his side. Mav is looking at him, so intently, so intensely, taking him in with such seriousness. Understanding hits Ice all at once.
This is the last time Maverick will ever see him like this, with his hair cut clean, with his stars and his stripes, his uniform pressed and sharp. Maverick knows him, knows him so well, understands Ice without him saying a word. The next time Ice wears this uniform, one of them will be lying dead in a casket and the other will be pounding a pair of wings into shiny black lacquer. If Maverick wants to savor it now, Ice wants to let him.
And after a long moment, Maverick pulls him in for a kiss, deep and demanding, then reaches out and gently unpins all of Ice’s decorations. The stars on his collar, the ribbon rack on his chest. He unbuttons Ice’s coat and slides it off his shoulders. Mav undresses him and Ice lets him. When they’re done, Ice slips on a black and green patterned button down and leaves the collar unbuttoned.
He looks himself over in the mirror and can’t help but unhappily run his fingers through his short hair. Maverick steps up behind him, his chin on Ice’s shoulder and wraps an arm around his waist, pulling Ice back against him. It makes Ice smile and Mav presses a kiss into his neck. Mav reaches into his own pocket and holds his hand out flat, so Ice can see the gold hoop earring in his palm.
Ice turns in his grasp and grabs Mav by the jaw, pulling him in for a kiss, fiery and real, sliding his tongue in to taste the truth of him.
Catching his breath, Ice looks back to the mirror and stares at himself, fiddling with his earlobe. “Put it in,” Mav tells him. Ice freezes and meets his eyes in the mirror. “It’s a little much, don’t you think? With Sarah’s family out there?”
Mav gives him a dry look. “You brought me as your plus one,” Mav reminds him. “The earring won’t be why they’re talking about you.”
Snorting out a laugh, Ice tilts his head in acknowledgment. He’s not wrong.
Ice fusses with his hair in the mirror after he slides the earring back in place.
“It’ll grow back,” Mav reassures him quietly and Ice glances over at Mav.
There's nothing to be done about it, no choice left but acceptance. “C’mon then, Mitchell, let’s go shock my ex-in-laws.”
Maverick laughs and slips his hand into Ice’s, “Sounds like fun, Kazansky.”