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Bradley’s so lost in his own thoughts as he watches the water pour down at his bare feet that he almost misses the sound of the shower curtain opening. Maverick’s on the other side, fully undressed. He takes one look at Bradley, and then steps into the shower, closing the curtain behind him.
Pushing aside the wet hair that’s flopped over his forehead, Bradley gives Maverick a wary look. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re avoiding me.”
“No, I’m not,” Bradley lies.
Their shower isn’t really big enough for two grown men, but it hasn’t stopped them from sharing before. He shifts so that some of the spray can reach Maverick, too.
“Yes, you are. Ever since we got back from dinner with Joe last night.”
He’s not wrong. Bradley doesn’t say anything.
Maverick reaches around him to the shower shelf, taking Bradley’s shampoo. He squirts a small amount into his hand, and gestures for Bradley to dip his head. When he does, Maverick’s hands slide into his hair. The pressure from the fingers massaging into his scalp and the minty scent of eucalyptus filling the air persuade the tension from his shoulders to melt away.
“What’s wrong?” Maverick asks.
“I just…” He thinks about their dinner conversation the previous night - the first time as a couple they’d really gone out with someone outside of the squad - sitting at the table listening to Maverick swap stories and reminisce with someone else. “He knows you really well.”
Maverick’s hands pause for the briefest of moments before he keeps going.
“Joe? Well, yeah. We’ve known each other for a long time.”
Soapy bubbles slide down his forehead and Bradley’s shuts his eyes reflexively.
“He knows all this stuff about you - all these stories,” Bradley mumbles.
“You feeling jealous?” The question doesn’t have an ounce of judgement, only curiosity and concern, and Bradley loves Maverick a little more for it.
“Not jealous exactly.”
“Tip your head back,” Maverick instructs.
Bradley does as he’s told, bringing his own hands up to run them through his hair as the shampoo rinses out. When he’s confident it’s all gone, he opens his eyes, blinking away the water drops.
Maverick is holding his leave-in conditioner - the kind Bradley uses when he wants to treat himself. He obediently tips his head forward again so Maverick can work the conditioner into the tops of his curls.
"It’s just…I should know those things about you, too.”
“What do you mean?” Maverick’s hands slip out from his hair, moving to his shoulders to pull Bradley out of the spray so the conditioner can sit.
Shuffling them around, Bradley settles Maverick in front of the water. He opens Maverick’s two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. Ever since they moved in together, he’s lost count of the number of times he’s tried and failed to convince Maverick to use something a little nicer.
Bradley gives him the same treatment, working the shampoo through his dark strands. Maverick’s let his hair grow out over the last few months, and Bradley’s a little more than obsessed.
“There’s so much I missed,” Bradley says. “So much I don’t know about your life now because I shut you—”
“Hey,” Maverick cuts in. He pushes his soapy hair away from his face and cups Bradley’s cheek with his hand. “We agreed, remember? What’s past is past.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Besides,” Maverick tips his head back to rinse his hair. “You know the most important parts.” When the shampoo is gone he looks at Bradley and smiles. “We have plenty of time to catch up on the rest.”
He steps back and pulls Bradley back under the spray to rinse the conditioner from his hair.
“So give yourself a break for what happened, yeah?”
Bradley nods, ducking his head as Maverick’s fingers scrub through his curls.
“There,” Maverick says once the conditioner is rinsed out. “You’re all clean now.”
Before he can move away, Bradley reaches forward, tugging his arms around Maverick’s waist to pull him into a hug. Their bare skin slides against each other under the spray, a comfortable feeling that’s become so familiar. Bradley tucks his face into the crook of Maverick’s neck.
“I love you, you know,” he says into Maverick’s skin.
Arms wrap around his back, and Maverick gives him a squeeze. “I know. I love you, too. Always."
Those words never fail to bring a smile to Bradley's face. How lucky he is, after all that’s happened, to be loved by Maverick, and to have him here. To hold him like this, as the hot spray of the shower turns lukewarm, and the water runs in rivulets down their bodies, washing away any bad feeling as it swirls down the drain.