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“What’s this, Baby Bird?” Mav says; ruffling Bradley’s blond curls and taking the haphazardly wrapped gift from the 7 year old with a fond smile.
”Present.”
He huffs, because yeah he could guess that. “For me?”
Bradley nods; too busy focusing on climbing onto Mav’s lap where he sat on the sofa, now that he’d given him the present, to provide more information. Mav lifts his arms and the present to allow the young boy to cuddle in close; chuckling because Bradley was very much like a cat sometimes seeking and taking affection whenever he wanted, and grunting because he had much pointier elbows than a cat that was for sure.
”You gonna open it?” Bradley mumbles into Mav’s rib cage once he’d contorted himself into a position he somehow found comfortable.
Mav rolls his eyes fondly, because when had he had the chance? “Sure, baby. Was just waiting for you to get comfy.”
”M’comfy.” Bradley smiles around a mouthful of Mav’s t-shirt; gumming around it, a habit he never kicked, and one Mav didn’t care enough about to tell him not to do. Sure, it’s the guilt, he knows, but losing your dad young entitles you a lot of leeway in Mav’s mind, to do stuff that others might say you should’ve grown out of before. At least, he wishes someone had given him the same leeway when he was young and freshly orphaned, anyway.
”I’m very happy to hear that, Sweetheart,” he tickles Bradley’s side, delighting in his giggles. “And thank you for the gift. That’s very kind of you.”
Mav sighs softly, just stroking up and down Bradley’s back. He loves this little boy. So much. Just hates that Goose isn’t here to love him too. He gently rests his arms on the young boy and tears open the wrapping paper. Eyes widening when he sees the small wooden plaque with a metal jet pinned to it. The words World’s Best Pilot engraved on it.
He grins. “This is wonderful, thank you, Bradley.”
Bradley just hums; wiggling even closer. Chest rising and falling in that way that means Mav ain’t getting up any time soon. Not unless he wants to carry Bradley with him anyway. He shakes his head fondly, and leans back against the couch, closing his eyes. Just resting. Sets the trophy on the seat next to him.
“You’ve got something on you there, Mav.”
He smiles; tilts his head up, silently asking Ice for a kiss. The other man obliges with a hum. “Doctors say it’s not serious,” he jokes.
Ice huffs in amusement, walking around the sofa to sit next to him. “Oh, he got you one of those too?”
Mav frowns; rolling his head to the side. “Too? What do you mean too?”
”Bradley found me in my office earlier and plopped a present on the desk before running off. I assume to come find you and give you yours.”
”And yours says World’s Best Pilot too?”
“Mmhmm,” Ice hums; blue eyes sparkling in amusement, like he doesn’t care about getting the same cute little trophy from a 7 year old, but Mav does and so he’s prepared to be annoying about it.
Mav pouts; looking down at Bradley in betrayal. Doesn’t stop stroking his hair though. How can he? He adores this boy. Even if he’s clearly determined to stir shit in the Mitchell-Kazansky household. He bet Carole encouraged him. Can easily imagine her cackling to herself when Bradley came to her with the idea.
”Well, I got cuddles with my trophy, so obviously that means I’m the best pilot.”
”Keep telling yourself that, Mav.” Ice drapes his arm around Mav’s shoulder; fingers tickling the crook of his neck. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that we’re both the best pilot.”
”Uh huh,” he says, though he’s thinking absolutely not.
If Ice’s trophy suddenly goes missing, then he’s just gonna have to accept it.
+
“Okay, where is it?”
Mav leans back to peer around the bathroom door; toothbrush making his cheek bulge. “Where’s what?”
Ice comes to stand in the doorway, hands on his hips. He’s wearing just a pair of sleep pants, already ready for bed. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about, Mitchell.”
He does.
Ice’s trophy.
The same one Mav has been hiding away around the house for the past three years. All while making sure his one doesn’t disappear under mysterious circumstances too. It’s in the closet with all the folded up spare bedsheets right now. He’s surprised it’s taken Ice two days to notice.
”Don’t know what you’re talking about, Kazansky.”
Ice narrows his eyes at him. “I will find it, Mav.”
He grins around his toothbrush, finishes cleaning his teeth. Spits into the sink and sets the toothbrush in the pot on the sink. “Well, let me know when you do.”
He pats his face clean with a towel and hipchecks Ice as he slips by him; allowing Ice to catch him in his arms before he gets too far, drawing him into a kiss. “You’re a menace.”
“And the world’s best pilot,” he hums against Ice’s lips. “Don’t forget that.”
Ice just sighs, gently pushing him into the direction of the bed. Doesn’t matter about this little game between them, not when it’s just them together, the stars glittering through the curtains.
+
Ice’s trophy is back in his office the next day.
Mav’s disappears a week later.
The game continues.
+
“Yo, Mav. You still have this?”
He wipes his hands on the dish towel, and pads out of the kitchen; Bradley stood admiring the various knickknacks and photographs on the mantelpiece. “What’s that, Sweetheart?” Bradley waggles the trophy at him, and Mav grins. It’s a little beat up now, but the metal of the jet is buffed shiny. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Though that might be Ice’s one. Hard to keep track after thirty years.”
Bradley quirks his head, biting back a laugh. “What do you mean?”
”We’ve been stealing each other’s trophies back and forth since you gave them to us. Hiding them around the house so only one of us can be the World’s best pilot.”
”You’re kidding? No, of course you’re not kidding. You two are always competitive about silly things.” Bradley scrubs a hand over his moustache; a smile making his brown eyes soften. “It’s why I thought getting you both one would be better.”
Mav steps close and pulls Bradley into a side hug; taking the trophy and placing it back on the mantelpiece. “You always were a sweet kid, Baby Bird. And we knew—we’ve always known it was just a game between us. Something to keep us smiling I guess, when things got a little too much, y’know.”
Bradley hums. Knows what he means. Rests his cheek on Mav’s shoulder and they just look at the photo of the three of them; Bradley young and beaming on the camera on Mav’s shoulders, Ice stood behind them, stalwart at their back, like always.
”What are you two looking at?” Ice says; voice more gruff than before, but no less fond. Slips his arm around Mav’s waist and busses a kiss to his temple.
”My trophy.”
”Your trophy? I’m pretty sure that’s mine.”
Mav rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t matter.” Moves his arm to rest it on Ice’s hip; holding both of them close. “I’d take you two just being here in my life over being the World’s Best Pilot any day.”
He’s never said a truer word. After thinking at different points that he’d lost both of them; every second he gets to spend with them is a moment he’ll treasure for the rest of his life.
”Love you, Mav,” Bradley whispers.
”Love you too, Kiddo.”
Ice inhales deeply, in that way Mav knows he’s swallowing back tears. Slips his fingers under the hem of his husband’s woollen sweater, palms his warm skin. Lets him speak whenever he’s ready. “Well now the game is ruined,” he says eventually. “Can’t in good conscience steal your trophy after you said that. I’d just look like an asshole.”
Mav snorts out a laugh.
Ice disappears for a moment, and then comes back in; slippers scuffing against the carpet. He sets the second trophy right next to the first. “There. Now we’re both the best pilots.”
”Oh, babe,” he says; tilting his face up to kiss Ice’s jaw, breathing him in, Bradley a solid weight by his side. “Haven’t you realised yet?”
”Realised what?”
“We always have been.”
+
Two days later, Bradley gives them both mugs that say Dad One and Dad Two on.
The mugs are used every morning after.
Doesn’t matter which one Mav uses. Only matters that Bradley gifted them, and that Ice had the other.
Just like the trophies.