They spent the majority of the day in bed; at some point, Ice decided that he was hungry, and disappeared from Maverick's sight for a while, only to come back with a complete brunch on a plate.

That evening, they fell asleep on the sofa, a vague blanket spread over their naked bodies. Ice's head was lying on Maverick's stomach, his hands on both Maverick's hips; his breath was regular and deep through his parted lips. It took a while for Maverick's just awoken eyes to get used to the darkness of the room, lit only by the moon.

He'd just been dreaming about them: a clear, realistic dream that, he was almost sure of it now, must've been memories. A bunch of them, from his time with Iceman before the accident. Various moments and places. Just the two of them.

He laid his hand on Ice's head, caressing his cheek and jawline. Ice jolted slightly. Maverick took his hand off, keeping it in the air for a few seconds. He didn't want to wake him. But, once he was sure that Ice was still asleep, he resumed his stroking.

"What would I be right now without you", he found himself whispering. "Where would I be?"

His hand moved towards Iceman's neck.

"What if I hadn't remembered anything at all, and you didn't tell me?"

His fingers entangled with the golden hair.

"I'd be far from here, I wouldn't have gotten back up there yet. I'd be miserable if it wasn't for you, Tom."

"Yeah, that's what they all say", mumbled a sleepy voice from around his belly, making him jump.

"Shit. You're awake", he swore, startled.

"Heard it all, sweetheart", Iceman replied, ridiculously insisting on the nickname. "Getting emotional, are we?"

"Shit."

Iceman shifted, placing his lips on Maverick's abdominals, and gave him a slow kiss.

"Don't… I won't be able to sleep again if you…"

"I love you, Pete", Ice interrupted him, his voice tender but firm. He straightened his head, trying to see Maverick's eyes. The words lingered in the darkness between them.

The relief was audible in Maverick's next breath. They locked eyes. He leaned forward, as far as his suppleness allowed him, and whispered: "I love you, Tom."

Iceman moved forward and kissed him. Maverick reached for his neck, bringing them closer. Their lips danced a slow kiss, a promise.

They rested their foreheads against each other, their quickened breaths mingling.

"You're not tired, are you?" Iceman asked, his hand slowly leaving Maverick's back and making its way between them.

"I don't do 'tired', Kazansky", Maverick asserted in a mock serious way. His hand plunged to join Ice's; his fingers curled around it softly. He took a deep breath as Iceman's fingers began to move below his. Then, without warning, he pushed Iceman up and then down on the sofa. Towering above him, he breathed: "I want to thank you." They kissed feverishly. A breathless "Why?" issued Iceman's lips.

"For loving me. For being here. Everything."

Iceman smiled and held his breath as Maverick's mouth travelled South, leaving brief, hot kisses on its path. His hand fumbled with his companion's jay black hair. "Well," he chuckled. "I'm about to be glad that I love you, I gu–" The end of his sentence was drown in a gasp as Maverick's lips enveloped him.