#this is post bosnia - they're very happy to be together again

[oathkeeperoxas]

wip wednesday

getting back into the groove of more icemav now that I'm back from my holiday 😤 anyway here's some icemav skinny dipping together 💖

“Mav,” Ice says, mouth dry.

“It’s a dark night,” Mav says, tilting his head up. “Moon’s not out yet. No one’s going to see.”

It’s true; Ice can barely see Mav, and he’s fifteen paces away and looking for him. His body is a study in shadows, and Mav turns so that Ice can see all of him that’s possible in this light, before he retrieves the bottle of vodka and takes a gulp of it.

“Mav,” Ice says again as he reaches him. Mav holds the bottle out; Ice takes it and has a swig for solidarity.

“You’re wearing your swimmers,” Mav says. “You don’t need to strip. If you don’t want to.”

The water is calm, washing up on the shore slowly. The sand continues here until the water is deep enough that you can’t stand up in it, and Mav wades out fearlessly, unstoppable. Ice takes another drink from the bottle to steady himself, and then follows Mav down to the water, leaving his clothes in a pile next to Mav’s.

It’s cold; he wades up to his knees and then watches Mav fucking around in the water as the waves soak his skin. Mav’s just behind where the waves start rolling in – if he can even call them waves. You’d never surf at this beach – and is splashing, then floating, looking up at the stars. Ice keeps his eyes fixed on him. All of this could almost be routine, except for the fact that he’s here.

Mav rights himself and then comes back to Ice, dripping water. He’s serious, unsmiling, as Ice folds him into his arms despite being wet and cold. Ice isn’t wearing anything; it’s fine.

“Good to be home,” Mav says quietly into his chest. “Good to see Carole and Slider and the kid.”

“And me?” Ice asks, loneliness rising to snap at him.

“And you,” Mav agrees. He slides his arms up around Ice’s neck. Ice leans down to kiss him, and Mav moves their lips against each other slowly, their bodies warming each other where they touch. Mav’s lips are cold. Ice resolves to do something about that.

“How are you?” Ice asks, desperately. “I mean it, Mav.”

Mav sighs. “Happy to be home,” he says again. “It was fine, Ice. I mean, it fucking sucked, but I’m fine. I promise. It didn’t fuck me up. Not like–”

He buries his head in Ice’s shoulder. Ice grips him close, not needing him to finish the sentence.

“And you didn’t get hurt?” Ice asks. 

“No. Worst thing was a bellyache from all their crap food,” Mav says.

Ice swallows. “I want you to tell me all about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mav says, looking resigned. “Not tonight though, yeah?”

“Not tonight,” Ice says. “When you want to.”

“Never, then.”

“Mav…”

Mav huffs. “Okay. Next week or something then, at least.”

“Okay,” Ice agrees. That’s an easy promise to accept.

Mav tugs him out deeper into the water. Ice takes a step and then resists going any further.

“It’s cold, Mav,” he says. 

“I want to go swimming with you,” Mav says. “You know how many times I thought about that?”

And, well. He can’t say no to that.

Ice lets Mav tug him out deeper, until they’re both swimming in the dark. He can feel the warmth of the vodka in his stomach, but it’s hardly enough. He tries for a bit to do some serious swimming just to warm himself up, and finds Mav cutting through the water, chasing after him. They go back and forth for a while, sticking close to the house and not too far from the shore, until Ice gets tired and goes back in until he can stand again in the water. Mav follows without protest, and clings to Ice when he stops.

“We can’t go a little further in?” he complains.

Ice laughs. “Too deep for you?”

“I’m not that much shorter than you are,” Mav groans, but then stops when Ice gathers him in his arms and kisses him. If it weren’t so cold, being pressed naked against Mav would have been the end of him; as it is, he’s clutching Mav close, slotting their mouths together, feeling the imprint of his body where they touch.

“Mav,” Ice whispers, and now it’s Mav groaning against his mouth. 

“Okay, out, out.” 

Ice attempts to shake the sand off, but his efforts are rendered useless when Mav drags him down next to their clothes and the vodka. Ice sighs as they’re both covered, but Mav is laying down and pulling Ice down on top of him, so he stops thinking about that. They’re wet and cold and sandy, and Mav takes another long pull from the bottle, offers it to Ice. Ice is used to drinking vodka straight, but Mav has never really liked it.

“Got a taste for this while you were gone?” he asks, not bothering to cap the bottle again. More interested in licking Mav’s salt covered skin.

“Yeah,” Mav grunts, running his hands up Ice’s back. “Tastes like you.”

Ice has to kiss him again. They’re in their mid thirties, tipsy, naked on the beach, and he doesn’t care. Mav offers him more alcohol between kisses that are turning hot. Ice is warmed up again, even in the cool night, and his legs are splayed wide over Mav’s hips. He can’t hide what he wants, and he doesn’t want to.

“Mav,” Ice grunts. “Mav, let’s go inside.”

Mav laughs. “Still want a bed, Kazansky?”

“I’m not twenty,” he groans as Mav fondles his ass, squeezing firmly to bring them close together, grinding up against each other. “And there’s sand. Everywhere.”

“It’s a bit rough,” Mav agrees. “Okay, okay.”

He takes the bottle, and Ice gathers up their clothes. There’s a bathroom downstairs next to the laundry, put there for occasions exactly like this; coming into the house after swimming in the ocean. Ice puts their clothes in a hamper, Mav abandons the vodka on top of the washing machine, and they go into the shower together.

God, there really is sand everywhere – Ice scrubs it out of every crevice, washing his hair, soaping up a few times for good measure, and yet he’s still sure he’s missed some. It’s better than it was. Mav is utilitarian, gets out first which allows Ice the space to pick sand out from between his toes. Okay. Ice dries himself off in a hurry, but Mav is already gone, headed upstairs, hasn’t put any clothes on. Okay.

Ice follows him, heart in his throat, naked and warm and willing. Mav is standing by the window in their bedroom, looking out over the ocean as the moon starts to rise on the horizon. Ice can only see half his face, and even then it’s cast in shadows. He goes to turn the bedside lamp on, only for Mav to softly whisper, “Don’t.”

“Why?” Ice asks.

“Let’s just hold each other. I want to feel you.”