Work Text:
“Oh yeah, Mitchell? What makes you think you’ll make team captain?” Tom asks.
“Because Kazansky. I say so. And if I say it’ll happen, it will.” Pete responds, looking him in the eye.
Ice just smirks, jaw flexing as he chews his gum.
“Tom! Let’s go, dude!” Ron yells at him from across the gym.
Tom follows him over and into the locker room, picking up a towel to wipe away the sweat on his way out.
Pete tries not to think about it.
It’s the next day after tryouts. Maverick is absolutely elated about making the team. Oh yeah, that’s another thing: coach Viper said that all the guys who made the team get these nicknames. Callsigns he calls them. Pete loves his new callsign. I mean, he loves the name Goose picked out for him, but there’s just something about Maverick. Like a badge, almost. It reminds him that on the court, he can be just like any of the other guys.
He’s actually starting to look forward to junior year. Who knows? Maybe high school won’t be that bad now that he’s got something to look forward to. To strive for. To be the best at.
Then, third-period calculus rolls around. He’s already shit at math on his own. But then he looks at the seating chart and, just his luck, he’s seated right next to Tom. Or, Iceman, as his new team name is.
Maverick sits down in the old chair that’s been here since the 90s, curse words and penises carved into the attached desk. He doesn’t look at Iceman. Doesn’t even want to talk to him. Doesn’t plan on ever talking to the dude, not even if he needs help with his homework or something. That’s probably the worst part: he knows Ice is good at this crap. Smart to a default. He was really a package deal, what with his grades and strong, muscular physique, and the way his cool eyes sparkle in the-.
“Okay, class! Since it’s the first day of school…” Mr. Heatherly interrupted Maverick’s train of thought. “Charlie! Stop talking to your group mates! You’ll have plenty of time to do that after this short slideshow I have prepared.”
The whole class let out a long groan.
Eventually, the teacher finished his presentation on the history of math and why kids these days need to care more about it, and how stem fields are way more lucrative and therefore better than the humanities, all in a mere thirty minutes. Maverick had finished making a tiny paper airplane out of his name tag when they began doing ice-breakers.
“Listen, Pete-“
“Call me Maverick. We’re on the same team, right?”
“Sure we are, though you seem to want to pretend we’re each other’s arch nemesis.”
“Yeah. Making fun of someone’s dead parents will do that to a guy.”
A couple girls seated behind them looked over.
“Okay, Maverick. I see you’re upset. I crossed a line. I'm sorry. It won’t happen again.” Ice says, turning back to continue filling out his get-to-know-you paper.
“Fuck off,” Maverick murmurs. He doesn’t look back at him, no matter how much he wants to.
He’s having lunch with Goose and Carole. They make a cute couple, almost inseparable. Maverick’s really happy for Goose, but he can’t help but be a bit jealous. Not cause he wants to be in a relationship with either of them, but just because he wants something like what they’ve got. And he’s starting to realize he wants it with someone that he could never be with.
“Mav, what’s up, man? You’ve barely touched your food.” Goose says.
“Yeah, ’cause I wanna eat a soggy burger with cheese that’s got the same consistency as plastic wrap.”
“You know what I mean. You’ve got that face. Something’s bothering you.”
Pete sighs. He couldn’t keep anything from his best friend, even if he tried.
“It’s Tom.”
“I fucking knew it. Is he bothering you again? I saw him talking to you after tryouts, but I didn’t want to say anything. Do I need to talk to him?”
“No, no, he’s not bothering me. Well, he is, just not like that.”
Carole’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide as ever.
“Oh my god, you have a crush on him, huh?”
Pete sighs, resting his forehead on the cafeteria table, not saying anything.
Nick pats him on the back. “Bro, that’s not so bad! I mean, he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he’s not exactly a bad catch.”
“Goose, he’s gay. He’ll never go for me.”
“You’re a guy. Why wouldn’t he?”
“I’m a trans guy, remember?”
Carole interjects, “Honey, you made the men’s volleyball team, just like him. Just like Goose.”
Goose adds, “Yeah, bro, and even if you didn’t, which you did, but even if you didn’t, you’re still a man, and I know there’s someone out there for you, even if it’s not him. So don’t go around thinking you’re unlovable ’cause you’re not.”
Maverick looks up and smiles lightly, reminded that he has the best best friend ever.
“Thanks, Goose.”
He lies in bed that night after he brushes his teeth and takes off his binder, unable to sleep. No matter how much he tosses and turns, his thoughts keep racing a million miles per hour. He’s so angry at himself. So mad that he let himself fall for the Iceman. No matter how much he’s told he’s fine as he is, the little voices creep back into his head. They tell him he’s not good enough. He wonders how much longer he can keep up the mask of self-confidence.
Pete clutches his cougar plushie that one of his friends from middle school gave him before he had to move across the country. He tries not to cry.
The next day, coach Viper has them do team-building exercises. Maverick is dreading the next drill as they head out to the mats.
“This next exercise is simple. Iceman! Maverick! Get up here to demonstrate.”
Pete nearly walks out of the gymnasium to dig his own grave out on the football field. He can’t believe this is his life.
“One of you will fall backward, trusting your partner to catch you. Maverick, you fall first, and Ice will catch you.”
Again, how is this his life? He turns his back to Tom. He accepts his fate and falls backward, half expecting Ice to step away laughing and for Maverick to hit the mat. But he doesn’t. Ice catches him. Maverick can feel his strong arms holding him, warm hands on his back. It’s a good feeling. A little too good, actually. Like, scary good.
“Great. Now, switch. Everyone else, find a partner and do the same.” Viper says.
Maverick wiggles his way out of Ice’s arms, already missing the feeling. Tom is much bigger than him, but he still gets in position. Surprisingly, when he catches him, Maverick finds that Ice is pretty light in his hands. Maybe it’s just because it’s Ice, though. He’s heard of parents being able to lift a car to save their kid after an accident. Maybe it’s like that. Some freak occurrence that gives him strength.
He manages a smile when Tom looks up at him. Maverick’s heart almost stops, though, when he smiles back.
“I saw how he looked at you, dude. That smile? Oh my god- he’s a goner for you, bro.” Goose says.
They’re playing on Goose’s Xbox in his room when they both should really be studying for their upcoming quiz in U.S. History. Something about Adams? Or maybe Jefferson? Maverick honestly can’t distinguish between these old white guys from over a hundred years ago. Too busy thinking about Volleyball. About a certain volleyball player.
He finishes injecting his testosterone, closes the bathroom door, and returns to the game.
“I don’t know. That could have been for anything. He was probably just glad I didn’t totally drop his ass.”
“Uh-huh. Sure. Let’s go with that.”
“Yes. We are going with that. Anyways, what about the game this week? Think we got a chance?”
“Of course we do. I got you on my team.”
“Yeah, let’s just hope I’m better at volleyball than CoD.”
It’s game day. They’re tied so far, with Maverick having racked up the most points with his serves. He’s trying not to let it get to him, though, being a part of a team and all, as coach said. He’s doing an excellent job of keeping his head in the game.
Until Goose trips and sprains his ankle while going after the ball.
They end up winning anyways, but Maverick’s head is messed up afterward.
He knows it’s just a sprained ankle, but even just going to the hospital to check on his friend has his mind drifting. The last time he had to see someone in the hospital, it was his mom.
The next day, he actually felt majorly fucked up. He couldn’t pay attention during math class, no matter how much he tried to snap out of it. Tom must’ve noticed that Pete hadn’t written anything down because it nudged him in the arm.
“Hey, do you need to copy my notes?” Tom says, looking surprisingly genuine.
Maverick doesn’t know how to take that but attempts to cut it with the whole self-sabotaging bullshit. After all, he really likes this guy, and he feels awful right now. He figures he can let himself believe for just this once that things could work out. As a treat.
“No-I mean- can you just explain this to me? Please?”
“Yeah, totally.”
He leaves class actually understanding what derivatives are.
It’s the big final game of the season. Maverick doesn’t know how the hell they’ve managed to make it all the way to the state championships. The whole team got to travel in their shitty school bus from San Diego to Los Angeles. They’re playing some up-tight private school kids, and Pete can’t help but be shocked when he steps into their state-of-the-art gym and facilities. Everything’s spotless and new and modern and-.
He’s just gotta win.
Show ’em that even some scrawny public school kid can make it to the big leagues. That he can be the best of the best.
Goose and Carole are in the stands, cheering him on from the sidelines.
The game is close but his willpower’s stronger.
They’ve scored 24 points with a single-point difference. They only have to get one more point for that trophy to be theirs. Iceman is focused as he serves, and Maverick tries not to be distracted as he moves. He watches the ball bounce from side to side.
Ice moves in to strike the ball and go in for the winning blow, but he’s off by a step, and the ball slips, getting flung straight into the air. No one’s around to get it. Ice curses to himself.
Then.
Out of nowhere.
Maverick books it across the court, hitting the ball over the net.
The sound that the ball makes when it hits the ground echoes like an explosion throughout the room.
The crowd goes wild. They won. The rest of the team hauls Maverick up above them, chanting his name.
A couple of recruiters from college teams even stop him after the game.
This might be the best day of his life.
And it only gets better.
The coach takes the team and their families out for pizzas. Hollywood, Wolfman, Merlin, and Sundown have a competitive who can drink more Mountain Dew contest while Slider, Chipper, and Goose play pinball in the back. By the time the pepperoni arrives, Maverick realizes he’s gotta get some pictures, but that he must have left his phone on the bus by accident. He walks out into the chilly night when he hears a familiar voice.
“Maverick!” Iceman calls out, running up to him. Pete can’t help but think the soft moonlight looks good on him when he turns to meet his gaze.
“You were really awesome out there. Congrats on the win.” He says.
Maverick grins.
“I couldn’t have done it without you. We make a good team.”
“Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you about that….”
Ice looks nervous right now. Almost as nervous as Maverick feels.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been kind of an asshole to you. I haven’t really given you a chance, huh?” Maverick interjects.
“What- no- Mav- if anything, you’re right for being skeptical. I was being a fucking idiot. But I am glad you let me in. Even if I don’t deserve it.”
Maverick tries not to smile wider and fails miserably.
“Ice. You do deserve it, and I’m really happy we’re friends.”
The grin on Tom’s face falls, and his eyes seem sad. Disappointed. Less sparkly than before. Pete doesn’t like that.
“Hey, what? Was it something I said?”
“I-It’s just- I was hoping we could be more than friends.”
What? Mav’s inner monologue does a double take. Did he hear that right? Are his ears playing tricks on him? This is so weird. Ice has never looked this small. This scared.
“More than friends?” He asks, like a dumbass. Maverick might be the star volleyball player tonight, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less fucking stupid when it comes to this stuff.
“Yeah. You know the homecoming dance that’s happening next week?” Tom asks.
Holy fucking shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fu-
“Yes, I’ve heard of it.”
“Well, I was wondering if I could take you as my date. To the dance.”
Damn. Today really is good. Oh, wait, shit, he’s actually gotta say something and not just stare awkwardly. Quick! Say something slick like in the movies!
“Can I kiss you first?”
Good enough.
“Yes, ple-“
Pete interrupted Tom, pressing his lips to Tom’s. It was sparks. It was warmth. It was flying high above the clouds.
Maverick felt like a winner in more ways than one.