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The irony of it was that Mav had hated anything mint for as long as he could remember. Mint toothpaste made him gag, candy canes were disgusting, peppermint tea was bitter, breath mints were chalky and gross, and anything mint-scented was sharp enough to give him a piercing headache. His foster mom used to use menthol VaporRub on his chest when he was sick and the smell was so nauseating it kept him up all night. He particularly hated menthol cigarettes, the horrific mint blending in with the acrid tobacco to form a downright disgusting concoction.
This was an established thing. All of his friends were aware of it. Goose knew that when Mav asked him to pick up a pack of gum, he was asking for fruit-flavor. And Carole kept a spare tube of cinnamon toothpaste in the medicine cabinet for whenever Mav stayed the night.
So the irony of all ironies, Mav couldn’t help but laugh when he burrowed his head into Ice’s back, the scent of mint lingering in his nostrils, oh so softly, comfortingly. Because his boyfriend smoked menthol cigarettes and chewed spearmint gum religiously, to the point that underneath the lingering smell of jet fuel from a day’s work, the tang of his sweat, and the soft floral notes of his cologne, there rested a minty fragrance that was so ingratiated with Ice’s natural scent that it wouldn’t make sense to remove it.
And Mav loved it.
He couldn’t make heads or tails of that, but it was the truth.
“What are you laughing at?” Ice asked groggily, awoken but Mav’s giggles, and Mav huffed in amusement once more, tucking his chin over Ice’s shoulder.
“Just the way you make me question everything I ever thought I knew,” Mav grinned and Ice rolled his eyes with a soft, sleepy smile, “No big deal.”
“I’m sure,” Ice drawled, New England accent slipping into his voice. It usually wasn’t very prominent, but when he was tired, it became more obvious. Mav loved it.
Given, perhaps that was because he just loved everything about Ice. Semantics.
“I love you, you know that?” Mav said suddenly.
Ice turned slightly to peer at Mav a little more clearly, “You feeling alright?”
“Yes!” Mav exclaimed with a joyful laugh, “I’m just…I don’t know, I guess I’m a little lovestruck this morning, sue me.”
“Well,” Ice chuckled, that low rumble that sent sparks up Mav’s spine, “I love you too, wingman.” He turned over onto his back, tugging Mav into his side with an arm looped around Mav’s waist.
“Bullshit, you can be mine,” Mav quipped, nuzzling his way into Ice’s neck as Ice laughed again.
Being able to make him smile really was Mav’s greatest source of joy in life. And as that thought crossed his mind, he felt a little pathetic, but it didn’t matter. He knew then and there that this thing they were allowing to grow was gonna be forever. And he liked that idea. He liked that idea a lot.