Work Text:
Ice has known the story of Icarus since he was eight. He still remembers the day when his father told him the myth in his stern way.
"He flew too close to the sun, and the wax attaching his wings melted. So he fell down and died." His father's sharp gaze made him felt even smaller than he originally was. "Never forget this, son."
The image of a young man's smashed body has stayed in his mind ever since. So twelve years later, he became Iceman and built an icy wall around his heart. The "ice-cold, no mistakes" persona kept him calm, cool, steady... and lonely. But lonely was better than dead, he figured.
When Maverick kisses him, Ice finds it difficult to breathe. He senses that the frozen dams begin to break and melt, and all he can think of is Icarus' shattered wings.
But then Maverick touches his face gently with one hand and wraps the other around Ice's clenched fist although his hand is smaller.
"Ice." Maverick is whispering. "Tom."
His hands are... warm. Not searing like fire, but tender and soft. It like Maverick has turns down the sun and makes a cup of hot coco with the sunlight.
Ice intertwines their fingers and begins to kiss back.
It turns out if Icarus' wings are glued together with love, he will continue to fly and soar into the bright open sky.
