( cw ) ; iceman/maverick, domestic fluff, established relationship
( tw ) ; none
( ++ ) ; 441 words, for @yukaisbrainrottingoversanegiyuu, ao3
Ice comes home frustrated from a long day of work, unbeknownst to the surprise waiting for him.
Ice throws his keys into the small bowl next to their door with a frustrated sigh. The day had been way longer than it needed to be.
Half of these meetings had him sitting there thinking this could've been an email over and over again.
Climbing the ranks is not for the weak—luckily, Iceman is anything but.
Just as he's about to drop face-first onto his couch, his foot catches onto something hard, and instead of soft cushions, he almost face-plants into his sturdy wooden dresser.
Furious, he whirls around and glares at the offending item. Mav's dirty boots are strewn out next to the rack—where they are supposed to be. Ice has to take a breath to steady himself, already feeling the emotions boiling over in his chest. He can't even count how many times he had asked his partner to put his damn shoes away.
Exhaling through his nose, he kicks the boots in the general direction of the shoe rack, too tired to deal with this now.
Unfortunately, they hit the bottom of the wardrobe dead on, making it wobble and consequently piling a bunch of jackets right onto Ice's head. His muffled scream would probably be hilarious in any other situation.
At least it warrants a tentative "Sweetheart?" coming from the kitchen.
Ice rips the jackets off his head and storms into the kitchen, more than ready to unload some of the pent-up frustration.
"Pete Mitchell, how many times did I tell you to put your fucking shoes on the-" He stops dead in his tracks at the sight unfolding before him.
Mav is standing at the kitchen counter, wide eyed and sizzling pan still in his hand. The lights are dimmed and the table is set. Ice just stumbled into an honest to god candle light dinner.
"What-" he breathes out, letting his gaze flick over the table back to Mav.
"Surprise?" Mav offers weakly, still looking weary at the baffled expression on Ice's face. "I'm sorry?" He tries next, when Ice doesn't move, still frozen in the doorway holding a bunch of winter coats. Quickly, he shakes himself out of it.
"What for?" He asks softly.
"I don't know," Mav shrugs, "You look pissed. Usually that's because of something I did."
He nods to the flowers Ice hasn't even noticed. "I thought I remembered tulips were your favorite, sorry if that was wrong."
Ice can only gape at him.
"Oh, Mav," he breathes out eventually. "They're perfect."
He finally walks around the kitchen counter, taking Mav's face into his hands and pressing a soft kiss to Mav's forehead.
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The first time Ice really thinks everything will be okay again is on the transport plane back to Miramar after the Layton mission. He's won the Top Gun trophy. Maverick is flying again. He's friends with him now, or so it seems. Ice doesn't know exactly but it feels like it. Wingmen.
Maverick, Mav is sitting on his right side, Slider on his left, both of them napping, both of them slightly twisted towards him, as far as that's possible with the seat belts, their knees bumping against his each time there's a slight rumble. Their heads are dangerously close to falling down on each of Ice's shoulders, too. He wouldn't mind though, not at all.
Across from him, Hollywood is grinning at him. He's in a similar position, Wolfman sleeping on his shoulder. They are an open secret. Nobody talks about them. History will simply say they were close friends but yet, here they are, definitely more than friends. It'd be a lie to say Ice hasn't thought about both Slider and Mav in a similar way. Ice smiles back at Wood.
Almost demonstratively, Wood wraps his arm around Wolfman, then points with his eyes first at Slider, then at Mav, then back at Ice.
Ice understands and wants to put his arms around both of them, hold them close, cuddle them. And actually why not? If Wood and Wolf can do it, why not them, too? Ice shuffles a bit and manages to wriggle each of his arms around their backs, hands resting on their hips. Wood nods, smiling knowingly. Then he rests his head on Wolf’s and closes his eyes.
Simultaneously, Mav's arm wraps around Ice's belly and his head drops against his arm. As if he'd only waited for it, Slider's arm follows suit, resting on top of Mav's, while his head falls on Ice's shoulder. A warm tingly feeling arises in Ice's belly.
Cargo plane seats are uncomfortable as hell but here and now, being cuddled by these two menaces of men, he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.
Summary: The long-suffering RIOs play matchmaker, ft: idiots pining, forced proximity, and my personal headcanon that Maverick hates thunderstorms.
Pairing: Iceman x Maverick
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Cussing, minor suggestive content, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst, Goose lives (yay), no beta reading, and possible misspellings (words are hard ok?)
None of the Flyboys could remember the last time they’d had leave, much less gone on a proper vacation. As a consequence, Viper and Jester had more or less forced the aviators out the door with assurances that yes, they would survive a week without flying, and not to worry, their instructors wouldn’t miss them that much.
Of course, Viper and Jester had their own reasons for wanting the Flyboys out of their hair for the week and it had something to do with the obvious, pining looks Iceman and Maverick were giving each other. Obvious, that is, to everyone but them.
Which was possibly why neither of them noticed Goose and Slider being pulled into a private meeting with the instructors just before leaving for the trip.
“I don’t care how you do it. Just make sure by the time you come back, the issue is fixed,” Jester told them as he paced around the small office.
Viper stood gazing out the window, nodding along with what Jester was saying. The dawn light dusted over his uniform. He seemed distracted, letting Jester do all the talking.
“And by issue, you mean…” Goose prompted, shifting in his seat.
“Maverick and Iceman.”
Slider let out a barking laugh. “Sir, no offense, but I don’t think we can fix their little rivalry problem in a week. Hell, I don’t even think we could do it in a year.”
At this, Viper turned and looked at the two RIOs. His eyebrows furrowed.
“We’re not talking about the rivalry here. Although,” Viper tilted his head, considering something. “That might work itself out too.”
Goose and Slider looked at each other, understanding and horror dawning on their faces.
“You want us to…set them up?” Goose’s voice rose an octave.
Jester abruptly stopped pacing and snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”
Slider groaned, sinking down in his seat. “Are they really that obvious?”
Goose sighed and exchanged a long-suffering look with Slider. They thought the knowledge was limited to the Flyboys. Apparently not.
“Well, we’ve been trying to do something about that.” Goose admitted. “But so far, no luck.”
Slider feverishly nodded in agreement.
“A change of scenery might do everyone some good then,” Jester muttered, resuming his pacing.
“Speaking off.” Viper made a halfhearted shooing motion, causing Slider and Goose to jump to their feet. “You should get going. I think Maverick is getting antsy.”
He jabbed a finger over his shoulder at the window he’d been gazing out. The window that looked out over the parking lot.
The RIOs were dismissed.
“Great,” Goose groaned the second they were out of earshot of Viper’s office. “Just great. How’d we get stuck on matchmaking duty?”
Slider glanced at the other man as they walked through the halls. “Don’t act like we weren’t going to try it on our own.”
Goose sighed and was silent for a moment before relenting. “Yeah ok. You got any ideas we haven’t tried yet?”
The door to the parking lot loomed ahead. It was propped open, letting the early spring sun seep into the hallway. Outside, the other Top Gun students had gathered and were arguing about seating arrangements for the trip. Maverick’s rose above the others, directed at Ice for some reason or another. It always was.
“I’ve got a few,” Slider said as the two RIOs marched towards their waiting pilots and the looming car ride. “I just hope they work.”
~~~
Goose would like to say he was a patient person. But even the most patient person would feel their nerves fraying by the ninth hour stuck in a car with Ice and Maverick.
You’re paying for my therapy was written on the back of a gas station receipt and dropped into Slider’s lap. Goose glared at him while Slider read the note and rolled his eyes.
“It was a stupid maneuver and you know it,” Ice barked from the driver’s seat.
“You’re just mad that I beat you,” Maverick countered, his feet propped up against the dashboard.
He knew Ice hated him doing that. Just as much as he hated arguing with Maverick over what he called “brain-dead stunts”. Sure enough, Ice leaned over and slapped Maverick’s cowboy boots off the dashboard without taking his eyes off the road. Goose swallowed a sigh and leaned to rest his forehead against the car window.
They’d driven through San Francisco almost an hour ago, stopping only to eat, and were currently winding their way along the coast of Northern California. The light was fading fast and Goose watched the last golden rays of sunshine dance on the wave crests. The roadside was covered in wild grasses and every color of wildflower imaginable. Goose couldn’t help thinking that Carole would love it here. Maybe he’d have to surprise her and Bradley with a trip for her birthday.
His thoughts were interrupted by Ice abruptly pulling the car onto a side road. Tail lights bounced ahead of them in the dusk and headlights shone through the back windshield. For better or worse, the Flyboys had all made it to their destination in one piece.
Ice pulled the car in front of a small bed and breakfast tucked away in the trees and Maverick was out the door before the engine shut off. Ice quickly followed, as did the RIOs, stretching every sore muscle.
Somehow, Hollywood and Wolfman still had energy left and were messing around by their car. The rest of the aviators showed signs of fatigue commonly associated with road trips and were taking a long time to unpack the cars.
Ice, ever the responsible one, disappeared into the quaint, two-story building. It was painted a cream color that glowed in the darkness of the woods and seemed to be made of more windows than walls. Flower boxes, perched on windowsills, overflowed with every kind of flower imaginable and their scent filled the air. Somewhere in the distance, a bird trilled and a stillness unlike anything the aviators were used to, hung over them.
Ice returned before long and passed out room keys. Previously, they had agreed that pilots would room with their RIOs. But as Goose went to follow Maverick up to their room, he felt Slider pull him aside.
“Give me your key,” the taller man whispered.
“What, why?” Goose hissed back, confused, but he didn’t fight as Slider slipped the key from his grasp.
Slider threw a wink over his shoulder as he quickly made his way to Ice. While the other man was distracted, Slider snatched his room key.
“Slider, what the hell?” Ice shouted as the other man danced out of his reach. “Give that back.”
“Change of plans Ice. You’re rooming with Mitchell this week.” The glee was obvious in Slider’s voice.
“Like hell I am,” Ice bit out.
“Don’t think you can handle it, Kazansky?” Maverick teased, leaning against the railing of the porch.
Ice’s mouth opened, then closed again, having heard the challenge in Maverick’s voice. Everyone else took note of the unfolding drama. Wolfman whispered something to Hollywood, who nodded and the two discreetly shook hands.
“Fine,” Ice eventually ground out.
Slider tossed Ice the key to his and Maverick’s room before returning to help Goose with their stuff.
“He’s gonna give you so much shit for that,” Goose muttered, watching over his shoulder as Maverick and Ice stomped off to find their room.
Slider shrugged. “If my plan works, he’ll be thanking me pretty soon.”
~~~
Ice was going to kill Slider. He knew this with the same certainty that he knew the sun rose in the morning and that Maverick was going to be a pain in his ass all week, especially now they were sharing a room. Hadn’t he suggested pilots and RIOs room together to avoid this exact outcome?
Everyone assumed that Ice didn’t want to be around Maverick because he hated him, hated his flying, and hated the antics the shorter man got up to both in the air and on the ground. The reality, however, was the complete opposite. Ice liked Maverick. He liked him a lot but in an occupation like the Navy, one didn’t just have feelings for your coworkers. And one certainly didn’t act on it. Besides, Maverick spent every weekend at the O Club flirting with a new girl, never sparing Ice a second glance outside of training.
So it boiled down to this. Ice had feelings for Maverick. Maverick didn’t have feelings for Ice (not that he would ever ask). And Slider knew Ice liked Maverick and spent a lot of time trying to get them together. Time Ice would rather his RIO have spent studying but everyone had to have their hobbies he supposed. And this room-sharing ploy was just the latest in an increasingly embarrassing and obvious attempt to get the two of them together, and then what? The whole thing was ridiculous enough to make Ice laugh.
“Something funny I should know about?” Maverick asked as they stepped off the stairs, onto the second story, and down a hallway covered in cream wallpaper.
“Nope.”
Maverick looked back at Ice over the collar of his leather jacket. The patches covering it shifted under the soft light of the hall. Maverick’s eyebrows drew together in question but he didn’t push it, probably not wanting to push Ice’s thinly veiled annoyance over the edge.
“Well, I guess this is us.” Maverick stopped by a door at the end of the hall, letting his bag thump against his leg.
Ice made an unintelligible noise while Maverick unlocked the door and disappeared past it.
The inside of the room matched the rest of the house. Cream wallpaper, soft lighting, and more flowers than were probably necessary. In fact, every surface seemed to be covered in vases filled with a riot of color. Ice found it oddly charming but…
“Chipper’s not gonna be able to breathe all week,” Maverick said, almost as if he had read Ice’s thoughts.
Ice glanced at Maverick, already perched on one of the two small beds, a hesitant smile on his lips. An olive branch if ever there was one. Despite his anger at Slider and the forced proximity to Maverick, Ice felt his own answering smile rise to the surface.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Ice kept his gaze fixed on Maverick for a second longer before the shorter pilot coughed and started rummaging through his bag. Ice could swear there was a flush creeping the back of Maverick’s neck. The back of his neck that Ice so desperately wanted to kiss, to see what sounds Maverick would make when he did.
Nope, absolutely not. Ice could not be thinking about things like that. Not now, not here, not ever.
“Kazansky!” Maverick’s voice pulled him out of the beginnings of a downward spiral. “You ok? You look like you’re gonna hurl.”
Ice forced what he believed was a reassuring smile onto his face but judging by Maverick’s concerned look, it wasn’t that convincing. “I’m just tired from the car ride, that’s all. I'm going to take a shower and then call it a night.”
Maverick slowly nodded but Ice didn’t see, as he unceremoniously dumped his stuff on the remaining available bed and all but fled to the bathroom.
Ice took forever to shower and get ready for bed, hoping that by the time he went back into the room, Maverick would be asleep. Sure enough, the lights were out and Maverick had been reduced to a lump under the blankets when Ice went hunting for an old shirt and boxers to sleep in. The only light in the room came from the moon, just peeking over the treetops outside.
As quietly as possible, Ice slid into his own bed. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling and the shadows that danced across it. Maverick’s even breathing filled the room and before long, Ice was drifting off to sleep as well.
~~~
At some point in the early morning, a storm rolled in off the ocean. Ice cracked his eyes open, not sure what woke him. He lay facing the window and watched as thick, heavy fog obscured everything outside. The only thing he could still see were the flowers just outside the window but they had turned gray in the dim light, like the fog had leached all the color out of them. Thunder grumbled in the distance and the first pitter-patters of rain hit the window.
Something shifted behind Ice and he quickly turned his head, all traces of tiredness disappearing from his body. He was greeted by the sight of Maverick climbing under the blanket and huddling up next to him.
“What’re you doing?” Ice asked, the early hour making his thoughts sluggish.
Maverick’s eyes flicked to the window before settling on Ice’s face. His hair, normally semi-under control, was now messed up and wild. Ice briefly wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it.
“I don’t like thunderstorms,” Maverick whispered. “Goose usually lets me sleep in his bed but that’s not really an option now, so I thought…”
Huddled under the blankets, Maverick looked younger, more vulnerable. Something broke in Ice’s heart to see him like this. To him, Maverick was fearless, constantly pushing the boundaries and damning the consequences. Ice couldn’t speak.
Taking his silence for something else, Maverick started to get up. Ice’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly reached out and grabbed Maverick’s hand.
“Wait.” His voice was rough with sleep and he couldn’t ignore the way Maverick’s eyes widened. “Stay.”
Slowly, Maverick sank back into bed and let Ice draw the blanket up over him. Ice had never let go of Maverick’s hand and when he noticed and started to draw away, Maverick intertwined their fingers. There was a question in his eyes as he gazed at Ice but a quick squeeze made it disappear.
Ice knew he was crossing the line into a place he would likely never return from but that didn’t seem to matter in the early morning when time stood still. Besides, he told himself, you’re just helping a friend out, nothing else.
Thunder roared again, closer this time, and Ice noticed the way Maverick’s shoulders were hunched. Without a word, he eased closer to Maverick and gently pulled the other pilot against his chest. Automatically, Maverick draped his arms around Ice’s waist and hugged him closer. He sighed gently, his breath tickling the side of Ice’s neck. Ice’s heart beat double time and he desperately hoped Maverick wouldn’t notice.
Outside, the rain had started to dump in earnest. Flashes of light accompanied the thunder that increased both in intensity and frequency. With every crack and boom, Maverick’s body tensed against Ice. He took to running his hands up and down Maverick’s back to calm him, whispering mindless reassurances in his ear. Maverick’s hands clung to Ice’s shirt and somehow, his legs became tangled with Ice’s.
Then, it felt like the heavens opened above them and a crack of thunder shook the house, rattling the windows, and startling the two of them beyond anything else that night. In the flash of light that accompanied it, Ice saw Maverick’s face twist. He needed a distraction and quickly.
Without thinking, Ice reached out a hand to cup Maverick’s cheek and closed the distance between them. His lips brushed against Maverick’s, lighting a fire under his skin. How often had he thought of doing this? How many times had he dreamed of tasting Maverick’s lips? A lot, but never like this.
Ice’s eyes flew open and he drew back quickly, coming to his senses a second too late and realizing how big of a mistake he had just made. An apology sprung to his lips but never left them when he saw Maverick’s expression.
Ice had come to recognize the guarded look Maverick wore every day in front of everyone. But as the two of them lay together, their faces inches apart, he no longer looked so distant. His eyes were dark, half-lidded, and his lips parted ever so slightly. Even in the dim light, Ice could see the blush that tinged his cheeks. There was something so open, so vulnerable about seeing him like this.
“Why’d you stop?” Maverick whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain.
Ice shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
The ghost of a smile graced Maverick’s lips. “Kiss me again.”
Ice starred at Maverick. Maverick rolled his eyes and tugged Ice towards him. When their lips brushed again, it was feverish. After a few seconds, Ice kissed him back. He felt Maverick’s hands move to grip his waist.
Maverick shifted his weight and Ice helped him so that he could sit up and straddle Ice’s hips. Their dog tags tangled as Maverick leaned down to kiss Ice again. His hands ghosted up Maverick’s thighs, earning a moan. Maverick retaliated by dropping his head to kiss along Ice’s neck. As gently as he could, Ice threaded his fingers into Maverick’s hair and tugged his head up so they were face to face.
“What are we doing?” Ice breathed, already missing the feeling of Maverick’s lips.
Something sparked in Maverick’s eyes. “I thought that was obvious. Or do you need me to spell it out for you, Kazansky?”
Ice tightened his grip on Maverick’s hair. The pilot flinched as the thunder roared again. The silence between them stretched on for a moment too long, breaking whatever spell they seemed to be under.
“Just tell me to go and I’ll leave. We’ll never talk about it again,” Maverick finally whispered, his eyes no longer meeting Ice’s.
“Mitchell, what’re you talking about?”
But Maverick was already pulling away. His weight disappeared from Ice’s lap. He stumbled off the bed and hurriedly grabbed his jacket from where he’d thrown it hours earlier.
“Mav.” Ice pulled himself out of bed. “Pete, please.”
Maverick froze at the use of his given name. Ice had never called him that before. Slowly he turned to face the taller man. Ice ran a hand through his hair as he tried to organize his thoughts with little success. Finally, he decided to state the obvious.
“I kissed you first, remember? If anyone has the right to want to stop this, it’s you,” Ice spoke softly, like he might spook Maverick into running.
Another boom of thunder sounded, further away this time. The storm was leaving but Maverick’s shoulders still tensed. Ice risked a step towards him.
“Maybe I don’t want to stop it,” Maverick finally said, his voice strained.
Ice took step after step until he was right in front of Maverick. He gently put a finger under Maverick’s chin and forced his gaze up. Ice was surprised to see unshed tears in his eyes. Maverick shivered at Ice’s touch.
“Maybe I don’t want you to either,” he whispered.
Maverick blinked and hope flickered in his eyes. Something released in Ice’s chest and the tension that he’d been holding onto since the day he met Maverick melted away. It wasn’t a complete confession, but it would have to do for now.
“Please come back to bed,” Ice murmured, running his fingers over Maverick’s jawline. “With me?”
Maverick nodded and wordlessly followed Ice to the small bed that had slowly become theirs. They had scarcely laid down again when Ice caught Maverick’s lips in a searing kiss and they didn’t talk for quite sometime after as they rode out the rest of the storm, together.
idk if youre still doing these but if you are, icemav 21?
Terribly late for this but here you are:
A kiss on a place of insecurity
“I'm chubby,” Tom grumbles, standing top less in front of their full-body bedroom mirror.
Pete comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss to his back. “And?”
“You're not.”
Pete turns his head to look at Tom's face through the mirror.
“I wasn't when we first met.”
“Tom,” Pete whispers gently. “Have I ever given you the impression that that's something that's bothering me?” He starts peppering Tom's shoulder with soft kisses. “I love your body as much as I loved it in the ‘80s.” He twirls around, now standing in front of Tom and locking eyes with him. “I don't see it as a flaw to have a pound more here and there.” He rubs his hands over Tom's soft hips, then leans in to place gentle, reassuring kisses first on Tom's chest, then on his belly.
Tom hums, eyes closed while he tangles one hand in the hair on the back of Pete's head, the other hand resting on his waist.
“Come back to bed and I'll show you how much I love you and every inch of your body,” Pete offers, smirking up at Tom.
Tom nods slowly and lets Pete guide them back to their bed…
Shortly after DADT is repealed it's no secret to anyone anymore that the very close friendship between Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell has always been more than that - and of course, Mav is responsible for that.
Ice doesn't want to make a big fuss about it. They are nothing special. Even in the Navy there are tons of same sex couples. So why make a big deal out of it?
And Mav agrees. He totally does. They don't have to make a big deal out of it. That doesn't stop him though from visiting Ice in his office at the end of the repeal day, just to kiss him hello in the hallway, just to take his hand and just to walk out of the building holding the hand of the man he loves. Just because he can now.
Ice blushes all the way. For him, even these little signs of affection feel like a big deal, like the big deal he didn't want. That doesn't stop him though from pushing Mav on the backseat of his car, kissing him senseless and promising him more as soon as they're home because God, his fiance is hot and it's hot that they don't have to hide anymore. Yes, it's not very professional to make out in the parking lot on base but the windows of his car are tinted and on a day like this he allows himself to be just a tiny bit unprofessional because maybe he doesn't want to make a fuss about it but that doesn't change that the repeal already is a big deal all by itself and he couldn't be happier that they don't have to be a secret anymore.
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Early on in their relationship, Ice and Mav couldn't have been more different about the types of weather they liked. While Ice lived for colder temperatures, rainy days and cloudy skies (only on the ground, in the sky rain and clouds suck), Mav lived for hot temperatures, sun never shining enough. However all it took Mav to appreciate the advantages of colder weather was one Tom Kazansky pulling him down into his lap on a particularly rainy Sunday afternoon while he was reading a book and watching the rain pelting against the window. Mav curled up in his lap and against his chest while Tom kept on reading, both of them enjoying the other man's warmth and coziness. Nowadays, Mav can't even wait until the rain starts pouring down to crawl into his husband's lap to be cuddled thoroughly. He still loves the heat but he adores the snug coziness that a rainstorm brings.
Somewhen in the future, Bradley and Jake are happily married. Their twin girls are sometimes true menaces (and really nobody blames Mav for that, why would you think so?) but usually they are just adorable 5-year-olds who love their dads and grandpas endlessly. So it's no surprise that they are over the moon when Bradley tells them that all of them will spend more than just Christmas with their grandpas.
What Bradley had been hinting at is a vacation in the mountains, all six of them spending a week in a cozy wooden cabin. Bradley and Jake go skiing, the girls have a hell lot of fun building snowmen, more often than not Mav and Ice are dragged into snowball fights with them (again, totally not Mav's idea and no, Ice really doesn't get overly competitive, who'd say that?) and if not, Ice has a good time finally reading the books he's always wanted to but never had the time for while Mav keeps the girls occupied otherwise.
One day, after a particularly serious snowball fight, they are all soaked to the bones and freezing. So while Ice gets the girls and himself into dry and cozy clothes, Mav lights the fireplace and prepares hot chocolates for the four of them.
Hours later, Jake and Bradley come back from their day of skiing only to find their girls snuggled up to their grandpas in front of the fireplace, all of them fast asleep. It's a wild knot of limbs and blankets and pillows but they all seem happy. With smiles on their faces, Bradley and Jake watch them for a moment before carefully throwing another few logs of wood into the fire and cuddling up on the couch themselves, enjoying a rare moment of peaceful togetherness, just the two of them.
Little snippet of an almost finished fic. Sweet and smutty established relationship icemav.
The first time it happens, Mav is sure it is a coincidence. Over the years, Ice has made it abundantly clear that he’s a top and that he has absolutely no interest in being touched there. So, yes, there is no other explanation than this being a pure coincidence. They are in bed, making out just in their underwear, Ice on top of Mav, grinding their cocks against each other through the thin layers of their underwear while kissing each other senseless. Mav's hands slip under Ice’s waistband and he starts roaming over his butt cheeks. So far, this is nothing new for the both of them. Luckily from Mav’s point of view, Ice's boundary is his butt crack, not the cheeks, and so he makes Ice and himself feel good by kneading Ice’s gorgeous butt, moaning against his perfectly plush lips. Then, however, Ice shifts, one of Mav's hands lands on his butt crack and Ice hums in pleasure. Pure coincidence, Mav tells himself, because there is no way Ice suddenly likes to be touched there. Mav moves his hand back to Ice's butt cheeks, pretending nothing has happened although he must admit that the whole situation has sparked his curiosity.
