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coffeecollective · 5 months
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Maverick: *Walks in and puts a human skull on the table where Hangman and Coyote are sitting*
Coyote: Uhhh... Mav?
Maverick: What?
Coyote: The skull?
Maverick: Oh yeah, that's Ice's.
Hangman: *lurches back* OH MY GOD!!!
Maverick: No, it's not Ice, it belonged to Ice. He'd put it out every Christmas to remind us that even though it's the holidays, people still die.
Maverick: Plus, you can put candy in it!
Rooster: *Enters* Hey guys... Aww, the Christmas candy skull! You remembered!
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coffeecollective · 5 months
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i swear this was meant to be happy but i have nothing to post atm
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coffeecollective · 5 months
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“I hate you! I don't ever wanna see your face again!”
Over 1 year later…
“Pete, I know you just got back, but that's no excuse to leave your mess all over the house.”
Having just come home from work, Ice had to bypass Mav’s jacket and horrendous cowboy boots in the middle of the hallway, an empty beer bottle and crumbs of chips leading him to the other man lounging on the couch.
“But you still love me.”
Mav was tiredly smiling up at him, making Ice shake his head fondly.
“Sometimes I wonder why. Even Bradley wasn't-”
Groaning frustratingly, Ice pulled his ringing cell phone out of his pocket, frowning at the unknown number on the display.
“Ignore it…”
“You know I can't… Kazansky, hello?”
“Hello, my name is Gracie Bushman. I’m a nurse at St. Joseph’s Rehabilitation and Care Center in Maryland. Am I speaking to Rear Admiral Thomas Kazansky?”
“Speaking. How may I help you, ma’am?”
“I was referred to you because I’m looking for someone called ‘Mav’ or ‘Maverick’? Also someone possibly nicknamed ‘Ice’?”
“Maverick, Commander Pete Mitchell, is my… wingman from my active days as a naval aviator. That's his callsign, mine was Iceman. But why-?”
“I think you need to come to Maryland as soon as possible.”
~~~
“Thank you for coming so fast.”
Mav and Ice had taken the first flight to Washington, their minds still reeling with what they had heard, now following Gracie through the hallways of the rehab center.
“No problem at all. So, this patient…”
“He had been admitted to hospital as a John Doe after being involved in a car accident. There had been nothing on him to identify him. He had suffered severed head injuries, leaving him in a coma and a vegetative state for several weeks before he was transferred here. He’s been with us for over three months when he slowly started showing signs of awareness. A few weeks ago he started to mumble words, but they didn't make any sense to us at first. But he seemed persistent, so I started researching…”
“And that's how you found us.”
Pete’s voice was barely audible when they finally stopped in front of a door.
“Yeah. Now, before going in, you need to know that he sustained severe scarring in the accident as well. It might take him a while to focus on you. Whatever happens, try not to stress him too much.”
Mav and Ice could only nod as Gracie knocked on the door.
“Hey, honey, you got some visitors today…”
The young man in the bed didn't look up at first. He was pale and thin, red scars all over his face, but there was no doubt…
“Oh my God, Bradley…”
They couldn't hold themselves back anymore. Soon enough Mav was almost crawling onto the bed, wrapping Bradley into his arms as Ice grabbed his boney hands and didn't let go.
“Oh baby goose…”
Very slowly Bradley’s eyes started to take them in and suddenly a loud sob ripped through him. Floods of tears were running down his cheeks.
“Da… Pop…”
There was no single dry eye in the room at this moment.
“Yeah, baby, we’re here… we’re here.”
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coffeecollective · 5 months
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my alters have been down lately, so this is for them and anyone else who needs to hear it:
alters whose voices/accents don't present themselves when speaking are valid
alters whose writing looks exactly like the host's writing are valid
perpetrators and persecutors who are nice are valid
alters who get mean, even though they're usually nice, are valid
alters who haven't fronted in forever are valid
alters who front daily are valid
alters who go nonverbal when fronting are valid
you're all valid, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!
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coffeecollective · 5 months
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Currently trying to understand and pinpoint Ron "Slider" Kerner. Who are you Slider... what are your motivations... what are your goals... what is your favourite colour... why are you in the navy...
if anyone has any concrete thoughts about slider... please share them with me... who is this man... do you think he listens to nickelback? or does he think Metallica is the greatest band of all time?
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coffeecollective · 5 months
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Bob would totally ask you to wear his glasses while you ride him btw
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coffeecollective · 5 months
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Random Hangman Story Idea of the Day-
hopefully an actual writer takes over this story and writes it. Please someone- take it!
Jake giving up his Christmas leave to Bob because he finds out Bob’s sister just welcomed a new baby and he knows how much the WSO wants to be home for the holidays. So Hangman goes to Admiral Simpson and requests to give his leave away anonymously. When Cyclone calls Floyd in to tell him, Bob is so happy to get to see his family, he doesn’t think about who could have given him this gift and just heads out to pack.
The Friday before Christmas, as everyone who has the time off leaves, those stuck in Miramar start making their own plans. Bradley and Phoenix are about to head out for some last minute shopping before they begin their holidays at Mav and Ice's home, when they see a light on in Jake’s apartment. They head up to investigate, shocked when the cocky pilot answers the door, expecting him to be halfway to Texas at this point.
Natasha realizes pretty quickly how Bob was able to make it home and asks Jake about it. The blond explains how he didn't need to go home, his parents wouldn't want him there, and soon he is being invited by the two other aviators to join their festivities. Hangman declines, convinced it was a pity invite and that no one actually wants him there. Bradley and Nat beg him to reconsider but head out when it's clear their teammate isn't going to change his mind.
On Saturday, December 23rd, Jake runs around the mostly deserted Top Gun base with his air pods in. He’s about to start his fourth lap when someone grabs his shoulder- it’s Maverick, looking just as surprised as Jake is to see him there. The two chat amicably for a bit when Pete brings up Christmas. Assuming this is his Captains way of trying to see if Hangman is going to crash their family dinner, Jake explains that while he appreciates the offer he doesn't want to impose, especially after such an emotional few months for Mav and his family (reconnecting with Bradley, Ice's cancer battles). Maverick tells Jake that there is nothing they wouldn't love more than if the blond would join them, even joking about how low key the whole event will be since Ice used to do the seven fishes on Christmas Eve and the big Christmas Ham and both Pete and Bradley are hopeless in the kitchen. Jake still seems unsure, to which Mav asks him to think about it and leaves him be.
All this leads to Jake Hangman Seresin arriving at Pete and Tom's house with a handful of groceries and presents on Christmas Eve morning, insisting on cooking to earn his place at the table. Of course his captain informs him he is meant to be a guest, but everybody stops fighting it as seven courses of delicious seafood find it's way to the dinner table. The group spends the night eating, drinking, watching Christmas movies and just spending fun time together, Jake having the best holiday he can ever remember. And as they all bid each other goodnight and head off to their different guest rooms, Hangman can't help but thank his hosts for having him. Tom and Pete just smile at the young man they are ready to adopt and tell him it's their pleasure, ushering the pilot off to bed so they can place the numerous wrapped presents they purchased for Jake under their tree, excited to see his reaction the next morning.
When that reaction ends up being tears for finally finding the family he always dreamed of Jake will find himself subjected to a lot of hugs on Christmas morning.
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And yes, Brisket might be one of the presents waiting for Jake under the tree 🥰
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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if no one could tell, i have had HORRENDOUS top gun maverick brainworms lately… but like… here me out?
alternative universe where Jake is that universes Taylor Swift (how original 😒 MOVING ON) and before he like took off and blew up he dated Bradley and it was great, but the break up caused Jake to write “right where you left me” and VAULTED IT.
years pass, Jake is still heartbroken, but is at a point where he feels like he can publish the song on an album and not get in trouble.
he makes a whole music video for it and it is emotional and beautiful and BRILLIANT!!!!
everyone (jake’s fans, all of his friends except Javy, EVERYONE) is wondering who tf this song is about, but Bradley knows…
Big baseball star Bradley Bradshaw knows it’s about him because when the bridge hits in the music video (“help, i’m still at the restaurant~”) Jake is sitting in the same restaurant, at the same table, in the same clothes, and with the same devastated look on his face when he left Jake there years ago.
and now, Bradley feels like he doesn’t deserve to breathe until he tells Jake he’s sorry and how much he means that.
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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I hate algorithms man lmao
We worked so hard on that mini fic—
If you’re seeing this and you haven’t seen our mini fic then go check it out! It’s bittersweet hollywolf
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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Sooo this mini fic turned out a lot larger then I planned but here you go!
Bittersweet Hollywolf HC where Hollywood got in a crash that almost grounded him permanently!
Thanks to my pal Kamikaze for helping inspire me :)
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Hollywood worked hard to be where he was.
Ever since he was young he’s always had such a large interest in planes and such, so when he became old enough, he knew he wanted to be a naval aviator.
He’s sure he picked it up from his grandfather, who always kept model airplanes on shelves in his and his grandmothers house, who always told him stories of what his days were like as an aviation pilot for the U.S. Navy. But it doesn’t really matter anymore.
When he was finally old enough he signed up and worked hard. He worked hard and flew well, which later got him accepted into a small aviator school in a nearby state.
When he first began his career in that school, like all students, he was assigned a RIO. This was someone he knew he would have to work with for as long as necessary, so he was both Excited yet also a little nervous.
He couldn’t help but think to himself as he paced back and forth, waiting for the man to arrive to meet him.
“What if I don’t like him?” And “What if he’s a massive dick? Then what would I do?”
But all his worries melted away when the door opened and he watched his new RIO walk in.
He seemed a bit shy, but he also looked very kind. The man offered a hand and said to him with a soft smile,
“Hey, It’s nice to meet you. My name is Leonard Wolfe, but my callsign is wolfman. What’s yours?”
Hollywood, relaxing, took wolfs hand and shook it.
“Rick Neven, My callsign is Hollywood. It’s nice to meet you too.”
After that first meeting the two naturally became very close, Best friends even. They often hung out and did things outside of work together and enjoyed each other’s company. Not only that but together they made their way to top of the class for best flyers.
For the first few months Their career was going well and they both worked very well together, but one day, on one of their usual hops, something happened.
It was one of their usual training runs. They were against their captain who was a stand-in for a false bogie and they were paired with another duo, Packer and his RIO Midnight.
At first things were going very well, they were evading and even almost called tone on their captain a few times but just narrowly missed their opportunity.
Something about Packer is that everyone in their class all silently agreed that none of them really liked him, Holly and Wolf included.
But they all agreed it wasn’t worth the fuss of complaining to an admiral about them seeing as that would require a lot of paperwork and aggression from the man, so they all decided to leave it be.
Eventually after awhile of playing cat and mouse, their captain finally called tone on the four of them.
“That’s tone boys. Follow my lead back to the tarmac and we’ll assess your hop.”
“Copy.” Holly replied. From behind him he heard wolf mutter, “Great, another failed hop because packer doesn’t want to communicate.”
During that session Hollywood and Wolf were navigating some terrain when their captain, not being radar detected, had snuck his way in behind them.
Hollywood had desperately called for backup from the pair but both had failed to give a reply.
Instead, without a word of warning or heads up, Packer decided to fly in right on their nose, causing Holly to panic and pull up.
That’s when their captain called tone on packer, before pulling up behind Holly and calling tone on him as well.
Now both had to fly back and get scolded, all because of him.
When the tarmac came into view, they watched as their captain had landed first. After he was landed Hollywood circled around again, asking,
“Pack, You and Mid going next?”
After a moment of silence, waiting for a reply. Midnight finally said,
“Not sure what his plan is… Go ahead Holly. We’ll follow in after you.”
“Copy that. Thanks midnight.” Hollywood circled the landing zone one more time before lining himself up and slowly easing his was down.
He then gave wolf the signal for the landing gear being launched. Right as the switch for the landing gear was pulled Hollywood heard as something swooped underneath him and rush past.
Without warning, his landing gear out, Hollywood watched as packer landed.
In a panic, knowing it was too late to pull up and try again, he knew he had to go for it.
He pulled back on the breaks right as the gear hit the ground. Jolting backwards roughly and suddenly as his F-14 his the deck. He felt a sharp searing pain in his back and he cried out but despite the agonizing pain that was spreading through him, He kept a tight hold on his breaks, trying to pull back one more time on them in hopes to stop before their jet hit packers but it failed.
His front of his f-14 collided with the back of packers, the pain worsened before he blacked out.
When he woke up again he was in a hospital room, his entire body ached too much to move. He looked around and saw he was covered in bandages and casts.
From beside him he heard the rustling of someone moving in the chair next to him. When he looked over he saw his RIO.
His hair was a mess, he was covered in bruises and bandages, his arm was casted, but otherwise hollywood was relieved to see he was for the most part okay.
“Rick..?” His rio muttered sleepily, rubbing his eye with his good hand.
Hollywood couldn’t help but notice how red and puffy his eyes looked, giving his friend a soft smile he whispered back.
“Yeah, I’m here Leo. It’s okay…”
Wolf teared up and the two talked, Wolf catching him up on everything that’s happened.
A few hours after he woke up a doctor came in and spoke with him.
“Mr. Neven… I’m afraid that you have fractured a couple of your back vertebrae as well as dislocated something in one of the points… it’ll take some intensive surgery to repair it, and if you’re lucky you may walk again.. but it will be a difficult journey…”
Hollywood looked at the doctor in disbelief. One small crash did that to his back..?
“I believe it was caused by an extreme amount of force from the crash. You pulling backwards while the aircraft was going forwards and crashing hard is what caused the pressure that resulted in the fracture and displacement in your spine…” the doctor continued. Rick zoned out as the doctor spoke, showing him graphs and X-Rays, explaining the procedure they could do to fix this so he could continue a normal-ish life. But Hollywood wasn’t listening. After awhile of silence Holly asked,
“Would I be able to fly again? Would I be able to continue my naval career..?”
The doctor gave him an unsure expression and Holly felt wolf grab his hand.
“I believe that… with years of intense physical therapy and a couple surgeries, you may be able to continue your current career path… but it’d take YEARS for that to be accomplished..” the doctor offered.
Hollywood thought for a moment, ‘that would set me back several years… what about wolf.. I can’t make him do that…’
He looked over at wolf who was giving him a worried look.
Holly squeezed his hand gently and then said,
“I’ll do it…”
And so it began, Hollywood ended up going through two tough surgeries and then after a year, he began physical therapy.
Wolf stayed by his side throughout the entire process, despite Hollywood insisting he continued on without him.
“Leo this is setting your career back, _years_! Please just go find a new RIO and keep going, it’s alrig-“
But every single time Rick tried to protest, wolf, infuriated by such a stupid suggestion, always interrupted him.
“Absolutely not. You’re my RIO and my best friend. If I’m going anywhere in my career I’m going with you. Not some other rando. Don’t ever say that again or I’ll be mad.”
So Rick stopped bringing it up, Instead he continuously thanked him But wolf, every time, just smiled and insisted that he’s there because he cares about him.
He always took care of him and even kept him company. Wolf would take him out to the park or a restaurant and to fun activities during the time they were on temporary relief from duty. and on days when it was too exhausting for Rick to go out and do things, wolf would make them snacks and drinks and together they would just sit on the couch and watched movies.
Finally, 4 years after the accident, the doctor deemed it okay for Rick to go back to his duties. So the two returned back to work excitedly.
It was only a couple months after their return, that they were invited to join the top flight school in America, TopGun.
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Not the best but I hope y’all like it!
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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I need more jealous! Jake fics in my life people so here comes a little pre-canon fic idea:
Jake and Bradley meet during flight training in Texas and something keeps on happening between them. There's tension and not the regular rival kind, and there are glances and comments that sound almost like flirting.
They go to the gym together, and go on runs in the morning, twice a week. Almost every night Bradley is at the local bar, winning over anyone and everyone with his piano skills and heavenly voice and buying Jake drinks when he sticks around with him when the night gets longer and people depart to go home. There's chit-chat during training and a lot of it, and remarks and teasing down on the ground. Any time Bradley is in the room, it's almost like he becomes the sun Jake is supposed to orbit around.
After two years of training and being in Bradley's space constantly, five days a week or more, Jake's like 95% sure Bradley isn't completely straight. He's not sure Bradley is aware he isn't but he'd eat his Stetson rather than say Bradley is straight.
He's also had his opinions vocalized a couple of times when the guys said some nasty shit around them so he's definitely not homophobic at least.
When they get placed in the same Super Hornet training squad after flight school, Jake takes it as fate doing its job.
He offers Bradley they could rent something together, 'cut the costs' — which, crazy idea if it turns out they're not that into each other — but Bradley says he's going to live with a friend and they already got a place agreed on.
Still, Jake is more than hopeful that some less strict environment, a bit more free time and staying close will be enough to go from tension to something.
Then he meets Natasha.
When he enters the bar Bradley told him he's going to that day, he sees him at the piano and he's instantly irritated.
There's a girl, a pretty one, glued to his side, playing the keys on his right.
Bradley's never let Jake play alongside him.
Bradley introduces the girl as Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace, who's also going to be in their training squadron. They met during Pre-Flight Indoctrination but Bradley doesn't exactly specify who she is to him now or who she was then.
Jake tries not to assume. It gets harder not to as the night goes on.
Natasha is glued to him the whole time. The few moments she isn't, it's almost like Bradley is seeking her out so she can be glued to him the whole time.
She sits on Bradley's lap at some point. Just kind of plops on his lap in the booth and steals his peanuts and keeps the conversation going and Bradley just wraps his arm around her waist so she doesn't slide off.
When he gets up to go for a refill, he grabs her and makes a few steps carrying her with one arm, like he weighs nothing, until she protests enough he lets go.
Jake is mentally sneering the whole time — he knows it wouldn't look like this anyway, for him and Bradley, because two guys in public is impossible, but this is supposed to be his. He spent the past two years pinning after something like this and one fucking day and whoever Natasha is, she's got Bradley wrapped around her.
It doesn't end on just that night. No, any briefing or lunch break or even office or study time they've got as the whole squad -- she's there, always way too fucking close and always seemingly sliding into the place Jake's been digging for himself for years in less than a week.
Jake can't even get a minute to initiate their usual flirting-slash-banter because she's always there, inserting herself into digs and jabs.
Bradley didn't say she was his girlfriend in any capacity over the days so he's trying to not assume but hell, they're together everywhere.
He decides enough is enough. He goes to where he knows Bradley lives now, two streets down in the slightly bigger base housing, ready to offer him to take a run with him, maybe establish it into a new habit again.
He rings the bell and nothing. He knocks and nothing. He does a mix of both and finally — the door opens.
Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace stands in the door frame. Not only is she standing there, at seven in the morning on a Saturday, but she's got only a too-big T-shirt on — one with a very faded Queen logo that he's seen on Bradley a few times.
She's not wearing any pants but the t-shirt is too big even on Bradley so it covers half of her thighs but he can also see she's not wearing a bra because it's cold and it's a thin, white t-shirt and Jake will have to bleach his eyes later because he can see her nipples.
"Hangman? What are you doing here?"
He can connect the dots and well, Bradley won't be interested in him when he's got a girlfriend so Jake just—runs. Leaves and doesn't say anything, feeling absolutely dumb.
He feels even dumber when finally — finally — on the following Monday, Bradley approaches him alone, no Natasha in sight, and starts the conversation with, "Nat said you came to visit on Saturday morning."
Jake grits his teeth — it's always Nat, too, when half the time Jake is just Hangman.
"You might tell her to put on some more clothes next time."
"I mean, it's just me usually," Bradley defends. "There's nothing I haven't seen."
To say Jake is fucking pissed is an understatement. And he can't even fucking avoid them because they're everywhere, always freaking glued at the hip, always so comfortable with each other, always touchy feely, very unlike the Bradshaw Jake knew, and he's either going to be angry at them or he's going to wallow in self-pity.
Naturally, Jake does the easier thing — he lashes out at them. Banters become sharper, remarks are more cutting, and slowly, the easy-going truce he had with Bradley starts disappearing.
Natasha does not. She's still there, attached at the hip, and like Bradley's better, more emotionally secure half, just going around with her life and thinking Jake is an asshole without a reason even if she stole the man he had unspoken dibs on for the past two years.
(Bradley is, obviously, oblivious about the whole ordeal...)
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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Another HC for y’all but bittersweet hollywolf content
Before hollywood actually made it into topgun he was in a smaller flight school,
Don’t get them all wrong he was a _fantastic_ flyer but something struck some awful fear in him.
One day a massive accident happen while on a hop. He ended up severing some nerves in his spine that almost grounded him permanently.
The doctors telling him there was a surgery they could do but it was risky and he likely wouldn’t walk again let alone fly.
Hurt and heartbroken he had little faith but something lit a spark in him, his best friend, his rio, wolfman, sat by his side the entire time.
Wolf was his rock the entire ordeal, it was because of wolf that he went for the surgery and through the pain and the difficulties, it was because of wolf that he went through tons of physical therapy.
After a few years of training and therapy, despite it setting their career back a few years, they did ultimately made it into top gun.
Now what if it was a really bad crash because Holly didn’t land right
A bad jolt thrusted him forward so hard or a bad bump hit so hard that he fucked up some bad nerves in his back
And the two thought that it was gonna be the end of their career
Hollywood even insisted that wolf go on without him and find a new Rio but wolf refused and insisted that if he was going to go anywhere in this career, that it’d be with Holly
I’m definitely making a mini fic on this when I can
Update: I did make a mini fic! It’s in the link below :)
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coffeecollective · 6 months
Text
I need more jealous! Jake fics in my life people so here comes a little pre-canon fic idea:
Jake and Bradley meet during flight training in Texas and something keeps on happening between them. There's tension and not the regular rival kind, and there are glances and comments that sound almost like flirting.
They go to the gym together, and go on runs in the morning, twice a week. Almost every night Bradley is at the local bar, winning over anyone and everyone with his piano skills and heavenly voice and buying Jake drinks when he sticks around with him when the night gets longer and people depart to go home. There's chit-chat during training and a lot of it, and remarks and teasing down on the ground. Any time Bradley is in the room, it's almost like he becomes the sun Jake is supposed to orbit around.
After two years of training and being in Bradley's space constantly, five days a week or more, Jake's like 95% sure Bradley isn't completely straight. He's not sure Bradley is aware he isn't but he'd eat his Stetson rather than say Bradley is straight.
He's also had his opinions vocalized a couple of times when the guys said some nasty shit around them so he's definitely not homophobic at least.
When they get placed in the same Super Hornet training squad after flight school, Jake takes it as fate doing its job.
He offers Bradley they could rent something together, 'cut the costs' — which, crazy idea if it turns out they're not that into each other — but Bradley says he's going to live with a friend and they already got a place agreed on.
Still, Jake is more than hopeful that some less strict environment, a bit more free time and staying close will be enough to go from tension to something.
Then he meets Natasha.
When he enters the bar Bradley told him he's going to that day, he sees him at the piano and he's instantly irritated.
There's a girl, a pretty one, glued to his side, playing the keys on his right.
Bradley's never let Jake play alongside him.
Bradley introduces the girl as Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace, who's also going to be in their training squadron. They met during Pre-Flight Indoctrination but Bradley doesn't exactly specify who she is to him now or who she was then.
Jake tries not to assume. It gets harder not to as the night goes on.
Natasha is glued to him the whole time. The few moments she isn't, it's almost like Bradley is seeking her out so she can be glued to him the whole time.
She sits on Bradley's lap at some point. Just kind of plops on his lap in the booth and steals his peanuts and keeps the conversation going and Bradley just wraps his arm around her waist so she doesn't slide off.
When he gets up to go for a refill, he grabs her and makes a few steps carrying her with one arm, like he weighs nothing, until she protests enough he lets go.
Jake is mentally sneering the whole time — he knows it wouldn't look like this anyway, for him and Bradley, because two guys in public is impossible, but this is supposed to be his. He spent the past two years pinning after something like this and one fucking day and whoever Natasha is, she's got Bradley wrapped around her.
It doesn't end on just that night. No, any briefing or lunch break or even office or study time they've got as the whole squad -- she's there, always way too fucking close and always seemingly sliding into the place Jake's been digging for himself for years in less than a week.
Jake can't even get a minute to initiate their usual flirting-slash-banter because she's always there, inserting herself into digs and jabs.
Bradley didn't say she was his girlfriend in any capacity over the days so he's trying to not assume but hell, they're together everywhere.
He decides enough is enough. He goes to where he knows Bradley lives now, two streets down in the slightly bigger base housing, ready to offer him to take a run with him, maybe establish it into a new habit again.
He rings the bell and nothing. He knocks and nothing. He does a mix of both and finally — the door opens.
Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace stands in the door frame. Not only is she standing there, at seven in the morning on a Saturday, but she's got only a too-big T-shirt on — one with a very faded Queen logo that he's seen on Bradley a few times.
She's not wearing any pants but the t-shirt is too big even on Bradley so it covers half of her thighs but he can also see she's not wearing a bra because it's cold and it's a thin, white t-shirt and Jake will have to bleach his eyes later because he can see her nipples.
"Hangman? What are you doing here?"
He can connect the dots and well, Bradley won't be interested in him when he's got a girlfriend so Jake just—runs. Leaves and doesn't say anything, feeling absolutely dumb.
He feels even dumber when finally — finally — on the following Monday, Bradley approaches him alone, no Natasha in sight, and starts the conversation with, "Nat said you came to visit on Saturday morning."
Jake grits his teeth — it's always Nat, too, when half the time Jake is just Hangman.
"You might tell her to put on some more clothes next time."
"I mean, it's just me usually," Bradley defends. "There's nothing I haven't seen."
To say Jake is fucking pissed is an understatement. And he can't even fucking avoid them because they're everywhere, always freaking glued at the hip, always so comfortable with each other, always touchy feely, very unlike the Bradshaw Jake knew, and he's either going to be angry at them or he's going to wallow in self-pity.
Naturally, Jake does the easier thing — he lashes out at them. Banters become sharper, remarks are more cutting, and slowly, the easy-going truce he had with Bradley starts disappearing.
Natasha does not. She's still there, attached at the hip, and like Bradley's better, more emotionally secure half, just going around with her life and thinking Jake is an asshole without a reason even if she stole the man he had unspoken dibs on for the past two years.
(Bradley is, obviously, oblivious about the whole ordeal...)
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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the silliest of silly ideas but---i just thought despite Mav totally not being Slider's type, they'd make good fwb, and Ice would hate it. (tw: non-descriptive/implied sex)
Ice is usually very reasonable, always thinking more with facts than feelings and that sets his views into firm, neat boxes — Ron knows this, loves this about him, really, and he'd never say a bad thing about it, even if sometimes it can be infuriating.
But apparently, that whole 'go by facts not feelings' thing can also turn into being both oblivious and in denial. Maverick seems to bring it all out in tenfolds.
He's never seen someone as in denial about their feelings as Ice is about his feelings for Maverick. It's kinda sad to observe — he doesn't get the extent of the feelings they do have between each other (romantic, but what kind? the off-on kind? the short-but-intense kind? the forever-and-ever-despite-everything kind?) but he knows it's a lot and it seems like a complete waste not to act on them.
And, okay, he's not a fan of Maverick, but he's growing on him. He's a good guy, all that anger and rebelliousness is just so intense for him because there's not much space to fit all in (he's a tiny guy) and Ron is kind of almost fond of it now. Never to the degree Ice is, but honestly, he doesn't think anyone can be as fond of Maverick as Ice is.
Maverick is also, well, trying. He's not as in denial, and definitely not as oblivious to Ice's feelings toward him, but all his attempts seemed to be either going over Ice's head or being subtly stirred away.
No wonder Maverick still goes for casual one-night stands when they go out to clubs — Ron sees all of it and he'd have also gone along with his life if his attempts at getting somewhere would meet with The Brick Wall of Denial.
"You've got feelings for him, man," he tells him, after another of Maverick's flirting attempts that Ice just swiftly averted, too fed up to bother with subtly.
"I do not," is Ice's automatic response. This time, though, he adds something more, "And even if I did, he's not going anywhere, is he? I can just wait until it's serious enough to do something about it."
It's more than Ron's got the past few months, and still so full of semi-reasonable thoughts that he can't doubt Ice has thought about this enough to convince himself he's right.
If almost two years of pinning isn't serious enough, Ron doesn't know what is.
"You do realize he's hooking up, like, at least twice a month, right? It's not like he's going to be waiting for you to make up your mind forever."
"They're all women and they don't mean anything to him. They're strangers, I bet he doesn't even remember their names."
He's not exactly wrong but— "Oh, so you'd make a move if he slept with a guy you know?"
"He's not going to do that, and even if, I doubt he's going to be telling left and right about it. " Then, when Ron doesn't stop giving him the side-eye, he adds, "No, this means no, I wouldn't."
Ice is right, Maverick isn't going to be telling anyone if he sleeps with a guy, but he can fucking tell Ice is boiling at the mare idea. So this formulates a plan in Ron's head — there's only one way for Ice to see Maverick sleep with a guy and that is if this happens in their own house.
At this point, he'll try anything, and it's not like this is going to be a hardship.
Ron is an equal opportunity kind of guy — or any opportunity kind of guy, more like — but he isn't able to say he's thought of Maverick that kinda way. One, because Ice is his best friend and although he's in denial, he's got dibs, and two, because Ron's type for guys is usually more of tall and lanky and more fun and laid back. Though Maverick isn't hard to look at and Ron can bet he's got the skill to back up all the hook-ups he's had, so well, again, it's not going a hardship, it's going to be a fun night. Sex always is, as long as whoever you're doing it with isn't a terrible person.
It's just a matter of getting Maverick on board.
Which is easier than he thought. He approaches him on Friday, leaning over Maverick's cubicle in the office, when everyone is already on their lunch break so there's no one around.
"So, you up for something casual?"
Maverick doesn't even look up at him. "What kind of casual?"
"The kind of casual you were going to have tomorrow night," he supplies. He's not going to try too hard.
Maverick raises his head, eyebrows up and he looks at Ron like he's lost his goddamn mind. "With—With you?"
And okay, he didn't need to say it like that.
"Yeah," he just says. When Maverick's expression doesn't change, he adds, "Come on, you can't tell me you don't like what you looking at."
Maverick leans back in his chair, neck straining as he gives Ron a long once over. He chews on his lip as his eyes go up and down as he judges whether Ron is up to some of his fucking standards.
Finally, he just says, "Time and place?"
Ron smirks. "My place, seven-thirty, tonight."
"And Ice is not going to... mind?" God, Maverick almost sounds hopeful that he would mind.
"Nah," he replies. "He knows about, you know."
He doesn't tell Ice anything, not even when they're back home. He only needs to say, "Hey, I'm going to have someone over tonight," and Ice just packs his book at around seven and shuts off in his room.
Maverick arrives on his motorbike and Ron takes him to his room as soon as they're inside. It's been a while since he slept with a guy and he's, well, he'd never admit it but he's a bit worked up for the night.
There are a couple of snarky comments about how Ron tidied up and how he's put fresh sheets on — Ron is nothing but classy, alright — and they set up some rules and dos and don'ts and Maverick goes straight to the point.
Kissing with their height difference is a bit difficult on Ron's back so they don't waste time and move onto Ron's bed.
He doesn't know why he's surprised that Maverick is loud, but he is, and he thought he'd find it annoying, but it's actually doing things to him.
It's not unusual for Ron to bring hook-ups to their house and Ice is used to it — but guys are sparse since it's simply easier and safer to have casual sex with women — so Ice only bangs on the wall they share at the noises once and then puts on a some jazz record way too loud.
All it does is make Maverick roll his eyes before they continue.
It is a fun night. Ron is surprised how not awkward it is — Mav is very good with his mouth and hands and hips and just in general. He responds to Ron's moves like they're fighting to prove who is better but it also gives Ron great, great satisfaction when he finally lets him lead.
He's in bed the same he's in a plane — overly passionate, making a competition out of something that shouldn't be a competition, and a bit crazy. Sex works for them as well as it could for two people who have no feelings for each other — they had a goal and were both amazing at fulfilling that goal. It's hot and intense and all the things Ron's been missing in sex in the past few months.
They do it once, fall asleep, wake up at around one in the morning, do it again, also waking up Ice with it, and then fall back asleep.
He wakes up in the morning and Mav is not there, but his clothes are. He meets Ice, coming out of the bathroom, wet hair floppy on his forehead, and when he gives him a look and asks, "Busy night, huh?" Ron only shrugs.
They notice Mav in their kitchen at the same time and he can see how Ice's whole body tenses up.
It wouldn't be that unusual of a sight — Maverick knows where their spare key is and uses it to let himself in whenever he and Ice go out jogging in the strangest hours of the day possible. What makes Ice freeze like a deer in headlight, or his cool and collected equivalent of it, is that Mav is wearing Slider's Dire Straits t-shirt only, which is way too big on him, the collar sliding down to reveal the hickeys Ron's left on his lower neck and collarbone. It covers him up to mid his thighs and this and his messy hair and distinctive lack of pants are speaking for themselves.
"Morning," is all Maverick says as he continues making his coffee.
Ron bites down the grin at Ice's clenched fists.
Ice blinks and then blurts out at Mav, "Why are you wearing Sli's t-shirt?" And nothing else, is kinda implied in the way his tone turns slightly higher.
"What? I wasn't about to wear my own, I smell like a sweat bucket and Ice was in the shower," Mav explains.
Ice takes a deep breath through his nose as he continues to give Slider a side-eye.
"You...stayed over," Ice says slowly, addressing Mav.
"Yeah?"
"At Slider's...?"
"Yeah?" Mav replies once more, a bit weirded out now, looking way too comfortable for someone who looks well-fucked-out and better than half-naked in someone else's kitchen. "I just forgot to bring a change of clothes, it won't happen again, duh."
Ice's face is blank as he asks, "... Again?"
Ron is nothing but a man of an opportunity and a shithead so he says, "I wouldn't oppose if we made it a regular thing."
"You're joking," Ice spits out.
"I mean, why not? Maybe try to buy some earplugs, Ice," Mav says, shrugging and taking his coffee. "I'm going to shower now."
"Next Friday?" Ron pops at him before he's out the kitchen doorway.
Ice slaps his side but he ignores him.
"Saturday," Mav counters. "I'm taking Bradley and Carole out on Friday."
He disappears in the hallway and Slider hears their heavy bathroom door opening and closing with a bang.
Ice's stare is perfectly leveled on him, the equivalent of a glare for him.
"What? You said you wouldn't care."
"Mav isn't just—He's my—I—him—I—" Ron raises an eyebrow at him. "Ugh."
He might be gloating, just a bit, because people rarely get The Iceman cornered, and he's managed it. He is aware there isn't anything Ice can say without sounding like a jealous, pinning idiot.
"I'll keep sleeping with him until you get a grip," he tells Ice when Mav is out of their earshot.
"Slider," Ice says through his teeth.
"He's really good in bed, so who knows, maybe it'll be months or years of fun?"
Ice's expression doesn't change, he's too collected to show anything but his face is red, just a bit, and Ron doesn't know if it's because he's pissed off or embarrassed, and he doesn't care. He needs to get a grip and ask Maverick out and in the meantime, well — Maverick is a good and very convenient lay.
"Speaking of which, I need to change my sheets."
Ice breaths through his nose again. Ron gives him a month and if he's still a coward in denial, he'll ask Maverick out on an actual date and see how that will work on Ice.
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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(It was supposed to be 4+1 extra for slow down but instead, it's a bit more chaotic 'Ice checking on Bradley during the night' standalone ficlet)
It starts like this — Carole passes away, Bradley already lives with them, so not much changes, but there's a period when CPS gets a bit too involved and he's taken away from them (from Mav only, technically, since Ice is a secret they're keeping hush-hush) and when he is given back to them, finally comes back to them, there's a month Bradley sleeps with them in their bedroom. Both because he's having nightmares every other night and this way they can make sure he wakes them up when they happen, and because Mav is paranoid and can't fall asleep if Bradley isn't in his range of sight. He understands the sentiment — it does feel like he's going to be taken away from them any time they aren't looking.
Bradley does eventually go back to his own room — he's almost a teenager, it's inevitable — and Mav does eventually start sleeping through the night.
But Ice is a light sleeper and an insomniac.
He wakes up one night, well past midnight and thinks he's heard something. He doesn't wake up Mav, just stands up as quietly as he can, and goes down the corridor, until he steps into their living room and under the dim light from the street lamp, curled up on their couch, Bradley is sitting with Tom's old Flight Manual on his lap.
He closes it, caught red-handed, as soon as he notices Tom.
"Buddy, you've got school," he says softly.
"I can't sleep."
"You still gotta try," he says because kids need sleep. "Come on, I'll tuck you in."
He doesn't even protest when Tom kisses his forehead, like he's been lately.
Ice goes back to their bedroom but he's still tossing and turning, something nagging him, pulling at the back of his head and at the heart inside his chest.
He gets up and Bradley isn't in the living room or the kitchen but he can hear the ruffling of the sheets through the door to his room.
When he peeks his head inside, Bradley turns towards him, the big doe eyes wide awake but crinkling as he tries to pop the covers more over himself, like he can hide away from him.
"Still can't sleep?"
Bradley shakes his head.
"Me neither," he confesses. Then, because Bradley looks—he just looks so sad and so tired and he doesn't want to leave him alone in the dark, just with his dino night lamp in the socket glowing green. "You mind if I lie down with you?"
*
He promises himself he'll stop once Bradley's nightmares disappear but he never does. Not when Bradley starts middle school, not when he graduates middle school, not when he's studying for his SAT, not when he's going to prom.
*
When Bradley leaves for college storms away, screaming he hates them and he never wants to see them again he can't kick the habit down either.
“He’ll come back, there’s still four weeks before he’s supposed to check into his dorms, he—” he tries to be logical about it, tries not to panic, tries to keep his head cool. He reasons, begs for it to be true. “He has nowhere else to go.”
“Yeah, he has nowhere else to go, Ice,” Mav says and he sounds terrified. “Nowhere.”
Bradley's always had Mav's stubbornness and Mav knows better than anyone that Bradley isn't going to relent no matter how hard it gets for him.
That night, he wakes up and Mav isn't in their bed.
When he gets up to check on him, he doesn't find him in the kitchen or in the living room, or even in their laundry room, trying to fill the sleepless night with forgotten chores.
Last place Tom checks is Bradley's bedroom, hope blooming in his chest as he reaches the doorknob.
Mav is asleep, his nose diving into Bradley's pillows, Bradley's pyjama top curled into a ball under his arm.
Tom steps into the room and crawls in next to him.
*
Bradley doesn't come back.
*
Ice never allows himself to venture into Bradley's room, not to do more than dust the place, and never actually sleeps in there without Mav. Not when Mav gets deployed, not when Mav is stationed in Nevada or Hawaii, not when it gets so lonely and the texts remain unanswered, calls are ignored, not when he spends sleepless nights on the couch downstairs, thinking about how he could turn back time and fix everything so they could still have their kid.
Not even when they moved into a bigger house, Bradley's room packed and unpacked at the new address, hoping he'd return there at some point — maybe after college, maybe after he gets his wings, maybe just, one day.
The only time he slips in there in the evening is the night he notices a blue Bronco in front of their house and sees it drive away as soon as he opens the door and then doesn't get a reply to his text.
He's at the end of his chemo plan and Mav's been trying to get Bradley to come down and talk to him, just in case, just for the support, and Bradley's seemingly ignoring it all.
But he was there. He could recognize the car anywhere.
He wakes up around midnight and his tired mind tells him Bradley might have come back and he walks down the hall and opens the door and—
And the room is untouched, a bit dusty, and there are no sheets, just the bare mattress and the sausage dog pillow Mav bought Bradley when he kept on insisting he wanted a dog when he was sixteen, and Tom lies down and hugs the pillow and tries to fall asleep, trembles through the cold air in the room, waking up from time to time.
*
The first time Bradley stays over after the mission, in his own room, untouched in almost fifteen years, Ice wakes up at two in the morning, feeling like the whole day — Bradley ringing the doorbell, Bradley helping Mav cook, Bradley eating dinner with them, Bradley grabbing clean bedsheets from Ice's hands, Bradley hugging them goodnight — was a figment of his imagination and he'll come downstairs to have breakfast and Bradley will still be on the other side of the States and not even answering their texts.
He shouldn't have — Bradley is an adult now, he needs privacy and Tom doesn't want to scare him away by not giving him what he needs once again — but he can't stop thinking the reality is going to betray him in the morning.
He walks down the hall, the automatic light turning on as he goes further, until he stands in front of Bradley's door.
He opens it just a smidge, so he can have a look, but the light is so bright in the corridor, and Bradley's sleepy face grimaces at him before he lifts his head up.
"You okay?" he asks Tom, as if he was the parent here.
Tom should leave, but he can't. He just stands there, looking at Bradley's sleepy face and squinted eyes and can't stop.
Bradley raises an eyebrow, falls down back on his pillow, and pats the space in front of him, covers ruffling.
Ice steps in and his hand reaches Bradley's face as soon as he's sat down, gets the curls off his forehead and then caresses his cheek, so much more coarse than he remembers, the unshaved skin tickling his fingers.
Bradley pushes his cheek closer into his palm and he's almost purring under Tom's affection.
"You can sleep here if you want to, Pops," he murmurs, eyes closed, hair out of place, curls falling on his forehead again. "'m sure Mav won't be too jealous."
Pops. He still can't believe he's getting called that again.
He crawls in, feeling his knees protest, and tucks Bradley — into his arms and under the covers.
*
Bradley moves in with them, a bit reluctantly, but he does — military housing is and always will be crappy, he's been moving from place to place so he has two suitcases and a keepsake box to his soul, and they're still trying to rebuild their family — and that's enough to give Tom a second life.
Tom still wakes up at night, still feels the panic that he'll go back to sleep and in the morning, Bradley won't be there, so instead of tossing and turning, he gets up and just goes to have a look anytime he needs.
Because he can do that now, again. He can walk down the hall and take a peek and maybe even have a chat with Bradley if he's awake and just look his fill until he calms down.
It's one of those nights — he wakes up and even Mav's soft breathes can't lull him back to sleep so he gently untangles himself from their bed and walks down the hall, opens the door to Bradley's bedroom.
Bradley is so used to it by now he doesn't even stir up at the light from the corridor. Instead, Tom hears a, "Huh?" in an unfamiliar voice and Jake 'Hangman' Seresin's head pops up from behind Bradley's shoulder.
He shuffles, blinking at Tom and the bright light, like he's confused about what he's seeing, and Tom notices his arm peeking out of the covers, wounding back around Bradley but this time on top of the duvet.
Tom backs out and closes the door behind himself.
"Jake Seresin is in Bradley's room," he says dumbly once he sits down back in bed.
Mav turns around to him, blinking at their night table light, and pulling the covers back over Tom's legs, scooping him to get back to the cuddling they had going on
Sleepily, he looks at Tom like he lost his mind and asks, "What time is it?"
"Mav," he repeats. "Jake Seresin is in Bradley's bed."
"They're thirty, dear." Mav doesn't even open his eyes. "You can't exactly be outraged about... you know."
"He sneaked in," he points out. "Into our son's room, under our roof."
"Pretty sure he just used the front door when you were asleep," he says, pulling on Tom's arm so he lies down. "Be glad you didn't walk into anything."
"Mav."
"Baby," Mav says, and his eyes are only half-open but he tries to hold his gaze as he leans back from where his chin rests on Tom's arm. "I know it feels like he's still seventeen but he's not. He's—He's all grown, okay?"
"He's still our kid."
"He is," Mav agrees softly, voice moussed with sleep. "Which means you can give Seresin your famous icy glare in the morning. Now, though, just go back to sleep. He'll still be there in the morning."
He'll be, Tom knows, but for how long? They've barely managed to talk him into moving in with them and even that was stretching the social norms a bit — most kids don't live their parents once they finish college, after all — but Tom didn't want him to go anywhere.
"Do you think they could move in here?"
Mav only gives him a confused, "Hmm?"
"When they get married, do you think they could live with us?"
There's enough space, the house is huge, and it's certainly better than any military housing they could get. Maybe they could stay at least for a bit, save up for a mortgage downpayment, or maybe just hold onto this place until they stop being regularly deployed.
Mav lifts his head, one eye open, giving him the look. "You already plannin' their wedding?"
"I don't mean Seresin specifically, just whoever Bradley marries," he explains. He's not sure he likes the idea of Seresin, the I'm-better-than-you-lone-wolf as Bradley's anything. "Do you think we could talk him into staying even when he gets married?"
"I dunno," Mav says, nuzzling into his shoulder again. "The housing market is shit so maybe? Probably would be easier for him, too, if he decides to have kids."
"Kids," Tom repeats numbly. "We could—We could watch them when we retired, right?"
Bradley's been seventeen in his mind for so long he didn't even let himself think about Bradley having kids of his own.
"Baby," Mav says. "He's not going to have kids overnight, not with Seresin anyway. Just go back to sleep, please."
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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So, kinda Mav's POV of this silly Slimav fwb ficlet thingy?? who knows, maybe one day there will be Ice's part... (tw: non-descriptive/implied sex)
Things with Slider keep...happening? Mav isn't exactly sure this is the right word but they're certainly going well.
Contrary to popular belief, Mav isn't dumb. He knows what Slider is doing, he's just not sure it's actually working at all.
They keep on having sex, usually at Slider and Ice's house, usually at least twice a week and honestly, the arrangement is better than Mav suspected.
Slider is good in bed, he's Mav's type, at least physically — cocky, tall, blonde, smart-mouthed in all the meanings of the word, athletic, and willing to try to keep up with him — and he's by far the safest and the most convenient lay Mav could have with a guy. He knows he's clean thanks to military health regulations, he knows he's discreet, also thanks to military regulations, and he won't ever sell Mav out to his CO because he'd be selling himself out too. He's got a safe place no one is going to question them using — to the neighbors, they're just some bros from the Navy that probably get drunk together twice a week and that's why Mav is staying overnight — and their only witness is also gay and would be selling himself out if he said anything.
Now, Mav says he knows what Slider is doing because said only witness is literally an eyewitness of what they're doing and it can't be a fucking coincidence.
At first, it kinda seems to be a coincidence. Mav shows up for their scheduled sex night — what? it's not a date night, it's a sex night — and Slider doesn't wait until Mav is in his room before they start kissing and tries to pin him down to the front door. It's admirable, and so hot, that he tries, but Mav gets his arms around the back of his neck and steps in, leg wrapping around his hip a bit. Slider's hands go down, taking a resting spot on the curve Mav's ass as he leans down, kissing the corners of Mav's lips with fervor and then his arms go lower, pulling Mav's waist into an arch, and he—
He lifts Mav up by the thighs, fingers digging into his jeans, and his knees instinctively lock around his hips and Slider bounces him up in his grip like he weighs nothing. Just as he moves them away from the door, he stops the ever-going kiss and Mav leans away, enough to see behind his shoulder, and—
That's definitely Ice, standing in the living room door frame, book in hand, staring at them, frozen in a perfectly still position, but blinking rapidly, and that alone says a lot.
Mav snorts into Slider's shoulder and feels Slider's chest rumble underneath as he chuckles into his hair.
The world swirls, Slider turns around, hands suspiciously high under his butt, and takes a step and Mav is so focused on how fucking hot it is that he can carry him around like he weighs nothing that he almost misses the "Sorry, man, outta the way. Don't want to drop this idiot, won't get laid if he ends up in ER."
He bites down on his neck for the comment and Slider, like the sick bastard he is, moans a bit.
It keeps on happening, always 'on accident'. Slider tells Ice the wrong time of their meet-up so he's literally still on the couch Slider throws Mav onto first thing after he comes to their house, or he forgets to close to his bedroom and has hands down Mav's pants as Ice walks by to the bathroom at night, or Ice comes back from church and they're buck naked on the wobbly living room table, or in the morning, Slider and Mav go to take a shower, together, and once again the doors aren't closed so—
It has to be on purpose. Especially that on the one day Ice is actually out of the house the whole night — Mav has no idea where, but it's their third sex night that week so he probably is desperate enough to go to a hotel — Slider starts their second round in the morning, perfectly timed with Ice's return.
They're eating the french toast and scrambled eggs Mav made, not really that chatty, they're barely friends after all, and Mav is wearing one of Slider's giant band t-shirts, this time with Bon Jovi on it — it's comfy and this way, he doesn't dirt up his clothes, sue him — and his own white briefs.
He can hear Ice's old man car on the driveway just as Slider pushes away their plates, grabs Mav by the hips, plops him on the kitchen island's countertop like a doll, pulls his pants off, and starts trying to maul his neck, nicely prepared for him by already sticking out of the huge collar of his huge t-shirt.
Ice walks into the kitchen to see Mav splayed like a starfish on the counter, his briefs stuck on his ankles, his dick covered only by the hem of that godawful Bon Jovi t-shirt and Slider's massive hand, and he just stands there for a minute as they all just stare at each other to finally hiss through clenched teeth, "We eat on that counter."
And like, Mav is not complaining, it's just, well, whatever plan Slider has, it has some holes in it.
He tries to put a little bit of a stop to it, alright, he really does, he's not about to torture himself by reading too much into Ice's expression whenever he walks on them, fool's hope, dream on and all that shit. It's just—hard. He hasn't had such regular, good sex in since before college, and never with a guy, and Slider is fucking hot, okay? It's literally his only good quality — hot and good in bed.
So when one day, during their lunch break, Ice, who is sitting pressed into Mav, thighs, arms, elbows, it all touching, says, "Can we just have one night without you two—as friends, just three guys who are friends and—" Mav agrees to just have a chill night at their place.
It's a nice evening, in general. Slider fucks off god knows where for most of the time, leaving just Mav and Ice in the kitchen — Slider can't cook, the bastard just sponges off whatever they cook. They put the radio on, do some silly dances — okay, Mav does, but it makes Ice chuckles so it's almost the same thing — and just talk and talk, preparing food close to each other enough that their elbows touch. And Ice looks at him, just looks at him, with so much fondness, with so much vulnerability in his wide-eyed expression, with that soft blush and downturned face and it is almost enough for him.
But then he leans closer and closer and Ice is no longer there, turning away from him as if burned and Mav—Mav is not dumb enough to torture himself with this forever, at least not on purpose.
So Slider comes back when dinner is ready and Mav sits next to him at the table, even though he usually would sit next to Ice, and lets Slider steal bacon from his plate as Ice stabs the food with a little too much force to be fully cool about the whole thing — Mav isn't reading into it though, he's tried and tried and tried, and he won't make a fool out of himself, Slider's plan be damned.
They move to the living room, some action movie selected, Ice already sitting at one end of the couch under a cozy blanket, book in hand, Slider on the other end.
It's the beginning of September only, but the whole day was unexpectedly cold, with a storm picking up at various hours, and now that Mav isn't moving around the kitchen or hovering close to the hot oven, he's feeling a bit chilly.
He makes a small detour to Slider's room, to snatch one of his sweatshirts, way too big on him, sleeves covering his fingers almost completely, the hem pulling under his hips.
They both turn to him and the ugly beige sweatshirt is more than plain noticeable but he just gives them an innocent smile. "What? I was cold, I know where all of Slider's shit is."
"We could've just shared the blanket," Ice says, sounding as if his mouth is drier than the Sahara.
Mav raises an eyebrow at him, pointedly, as if to say, Could we really?
Slider doesn't smirk, exactly, but it's clear on his face his shit-eating grin is held up by his will alone. He props one arm behind his head and pats the couch next to himself with the other.
Mav plops next to him and Slider's arm wraps around the small of his back. Mav grabs the remote and turns on the movie, aware that Ice's jaw is clenched as he stares down at his book.
Mav—Mav clings. Slider is warm, really warm, he's always like a space heater, and he might as well use it to his advantage.
Not even fifteen minutes into the movie, Mav feels Slider's hot hand slip underneath the sweater and his t-shirt, scorching fingers dipping into his sides and bringing Mav closer, close enough that the leg he had crossed over his knee slides down onto Slider's thigh. Mav doesn't stay passive, seeking out skin, too, reaching into Slider's collar, and next thing he knows Slider leans in and kisses him.
And then does it again, and again, and again, until Mav is fighting for small sips of air in between.
(There's a tearing sound somewhere, but Mav is pretty sure Ice the control freak would have enough control not to tear his book pages out just because Mav is getting frisky with his best friend in front of him.)
Then Slider grabs him under his thighs, lifting him up and standing up at the same time, Mav's legs wrapping around him on instinct.
"What the fuck—"
"Oh, shut up," Slider cuts off and then slaps his ass and okay, maybe he squeals a little, sue him. "I know you like it."
Like hell he's going to admit but, yeah, he kinda does. He's starting to think Slider likes carrying him around and throwing him on different surfaces just as much, he sure does it a lot.
Ice clears his throat and cooly, voice too still to not be suggest how he feels truly, says, "I asked for one night—"
Mav almost — almost — feels bad but then Slider says, "Sorry, man, he looks too fuckable in my sweatshirt." Then, cheekily, as they leave the living room, Mav now held up in just one of his arms — and isn't that fucking hot? — adds, "You wouldn't understand."
And this time, he can't just pretend he doesn't know what's happening here.
"I know what you're doing," he tells Slider, just as he's thrown on his bed and swarmed by his long limbs.
Right before he dives lower, Slider remarks, "Eh, do you really though?"
"It's not going to work," he protests, even as he lets Slider bite down his neck, his hand arching his head back for better access, strong hold keeping Mav still and making him hornier. "Even if he was getting jealous—"
"He is."
"—I think he'd be past the boiling point now," he finishes.
Slider tilts his head back, meeting his eyes. "You don't know how stubborn he can be."
"So what? You're just going to fuck the guy he supposedly wants until he breaks?"
"Yeah, basically," Slider says, fingers still gripping his hair. "Just enjoying your tight ass until my best friend decides to think with his dick and not his brain, for once."
"Nice," is all Mav adds before they go back to business.
He'd be lying to say he doesn't care. He wants Ice to do something. He wants him to admit he doesn't like whatever deal Slider and Mav have going on, that he doesn't like it specifically because he wants Mav to himself.
He wonders if he and Slider talk about Mav. If he asks Slider what is going on with them, if Slider gives him the dirty details, if he gets pissed off at Slider for continuing to hook up with him, again and again. If all those little expressions he sees on Ice's face whenever he walks in on them, if they're louder and more pronounced when he leaves the house and it's just Slider to take them on.
But fool's hope and all that — so Mav claws at Slider's sweater and pops it over his head.
As time goes on, it just feels more and more as if he's wrong about the whole, that he just imagined the way Ice looks at him.
"So, Maverick," Slider begins when Mav and Ice are chatting at their cubicles, sitting down on Mav's desk like he owns it. "You free this Saturday? Ice is stuck at work so the house will be empty."
Right behind himself, he hears a snap. When he turns around, Ice's broken his pencil in half.
Interesting.
"I'm actually going with Bradley to the beach, I'm going to teach him to swim," he says slowly. "Or at least try. The kid's been getting panicky any time we leave him without the floaties."
"Ooof, that's tough," Slider says and he actually seems sympathetic because Bradley is everyone's favorite and everyone's weak spot. "You want a second pair of hands? Might make him feel a bit more secure if he's surrounded from all sides."
And why not? It's not like Ice has any more pencils to break.
It's a nice enough day, for one spent with Slider. Bradley can't swim by the end of it, but he can float in the water without screaming his lungs out, so Mav takes it as a win. Bradley giggles at their banter and finds their insults — dialed down, there's a kid with them after all — funny, and there's just something less irritating about Slider, like this, with Bradley as the buffer.
Mav drives them in Goose's old car to leave Bradley back with Carole, they chat for a bit, and then Mav takes his motorcycle and drives them to Ice and Slider's place. They're both in jeans and there's a lot of rubbing and some more-or-less intentional grinding, so by the time Mav parks on the driveway, they're both half hard and set on one goal. They pass Ice on the way to Slider's room, and maybe he's a bit red in the face and maybe Mav arches his hips with a bit of an exaggeration but well, he's having fun and it's not his problem Ice isn't part of it.
It happens again, mostly because Ice is fighting to get the upcoming promotion and often works on the weekends, Carole gives private lessons on Saturdays, and that just leaves Mav and Slider alone, usually with Bradley for most of the day and then alone and pent up in the evening.
Slider is good with Bradley, too. Baby Goose is a soft, sensitive boy, and many men would try to toughen him up, but Slider doesn't. No, Slider stops and holds him when he gets scared, carries him around when he gets tired or sleepy, can't resist the cow eyes almost as badly as Mav and buys Bradley anything he wants, and doesn't protest last all when Bradley asks if they can swing him around — just gives him his hand, waits for Mav to grab his other hand, and then just throws Bradley in the air as high as he can.
There start to be times when they don't even retreat back to Slider and Ice's place after, just say goodbye at the door to Mav and Carole's house — Bradley always insists Mav needs a hug goodbye too, Uncle Slider — and then Slider leaves without Mav.
"It kinda seems like you're dating him, Pete," Carole says one calm evening that Mav does not spend with Slider and Ice, after Slider took them back home in his embarrassing wagon BMW.
Bradley is already asleep and they're drinking wine (from normal glasses because they still haven't managed to buy the full dishware set).
Mav obviously finds it ridiculous. "You can't date someone you don't have feelings for."
Carole raises her eyebrow and takes a slurpy sip and yeah, fair enough, there's plenty of people who are married and hate each other, not to mention ones that are dating.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks. There's a difference between having sex and dating, even if there aren't any feelings in either.
Carole has some—thing, for Slider, he knows. It's been over four years since Goose and he knows they won't ever fully move on but they have to at least try. He'd never hold it against her if she fell in love with someone, it's just—it's Slider of all people.
"Nah, have some fun," Carole sighs. "It's not like he'll ever see me anyway."
Slider's been equally dumb about all of Carole's flirting attempts as Ice was about his, which was an achievement in itself because Mav wasn't the subtlest, but Carole wasn't subtle at all.
"What a mess," he says and then pours more wine into Carole's glass.
@woodsywarbler, hon, I think you wanted me to tag you here? idk this is a bit disappointing b/c tumblr ate the longer draft and i had no energy to write it out in detail but 🤷🏻‍♂️
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coffeecollective · 6 months
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Think systems with a high number of fictional introjects are a new phenomena? Kluft's paper on polyfragmented/extremely complex DID from 1988 includes a patient with LOTR introjects, and another based off of Shakespear's Tempest. Fictional introjects have been a thing for a very long time!
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