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Mack was fucked. Right now, right there, and under the nose of his best friend –or who he’s trying to convince himself that it’s his best friend. The same person who, by the way, is 100% straight. And catholic. And a hockey player. And who HIM was considering Mack is best friend.
- Fuuuck, buddy…
Mack knows what’s coming next. He’s going to check on him, his face incredibly close to his. And Mack is either already crying or he’s going to cry soon. He doesn’t really know which one is worse.
While he’s seeing him coming up close, Mack lifts one hand to his numb nose. He hasn’t taken his gloves off yet, so his right one reappears covered in blood before his eyes while he’s trying to process what it means. Then, he’s here.
- Mack’s bleeding ! he sorts of yells behind his shoulder.
Mack stabilizes himself with the border as his teammate removes his own gloves before taking Mack’s ones himself.
- Will, I’m okay…
- Well, you’re bleeding, so shut up. Toff’s coming with tissues, I think. By the way…I’m so fucking sorry…I didn’t knew you were there…
Mack sort of chuckles, even if he wants to die inside. Will’s blue eyes are close, closer then he would like them to be if he wants to restrain himself from kissing him.
Fortunately, Toff brings the tissues faster than expected. Mack takes them, relieved that Will is taking a step back.
- Macklin ! calls Warso, off the ice. They want to make sure your nose is not broken !
Mack nods, quickly and sharply, taking advantage of the situation to let his teammates with the last ten minutes of practice without him. Normally, he would be furious to skip these minutes, but, right now, he doesn't want to see Will Smith’s too perfect eyes. Or his lips that become lightly curled when their gaze meets. Or even the sweat-covered nape of his neck that Mack wants either to bite, or to kiss to see how it would make him shiver.
Mack shakes his head to try (and fail) to remove the images of a Will Smith, huffing loudly from some intense effort while shirtless in the locker room. This memory comes from yesterday's practice, and he doesn’t even know why he thinks about it again.
When his nose had been checked and the bleeding had stopped, practice had only been over for five minutes. Mack walks out of the room where the medics had checked him, then heads toward the locker room. He knows Will will apologize again. And then again in the car. And then probably tomorrow morning, while they drive to practice. Or even before that, with a quick “I’m fucking sorry I hit you yesterday…” text.
As soon as he enters the locker room, as if he had predicted it, Will’s head rises quickly in his direction. He had already removed his shoulder and torso pads, and he was reaching for his skates. His fingers didn’t make it, though, because, one second later, he’s standing, walking over a paralysed Mack.
- Hey…sorry again–
- We’ll talk about it in the car, okay Smitty ?
Caught off guard, Will only frowns and nods slowly.
- O…kay ?
Mack looks at him one second to many, and has to try hard to tear his gaze from his best friend. As soon as he does it, though, he can only meet the glances of his teammates, who are now looking at them while trying to be discreet (except Eky, who is –once again– trying to make a ridiculous “Am I seeing this right ?” eye contact with one of them). Mack, unfortunately, has his bag in the place right between the two worst people he could imagine right now ; Will and Eky.
He let himself fall on the hard wood at Eky’s left with a huff, ignoring him. He also tries to ignore the fact that Will has not moved from the place where he was standing before Mack yet.
Mack removes his gears as fast as he can, not looking at his best friend when he finally sits at Mack’s left and starts to untie his skates.
Mack is now standing in the parking lot, just beside Will’s car. As soon as he finished dressing after his quick (for him) shower, he almost ran outside to avoid the sight of a wet Will Smith with only a towel around the waist, his cross pendant hanging loosely at his neck…
What am I doing…he murmured, running his hand through his hair.
His cellphone ding suddenly in his jeans’ pocket. Will.
Will
you took a lift from toff?
Mack sighs, opening his phone to answer.
Mack
nope am in the parking
Will
really? gotta be joking dude
am coming driving you you princess
Mack’s heart did a very weird thing –flipping, maybe, or hopping around playing hockey with the rest of his body, who knows ?
Mack pressed the palm of his hands in the socket of his eyes, hoping the slight dizziness that will occur from the action (if he presses hard enough) will be enough to distract him from the fact that Will was coming here right now.
- Hey, Superstar !
Fuck. Mack tries to look casual while Will approaches, waiting with an awkward posture that he unlocks the car so he can put his things in the trunk. After doing exactly that (while ignoring the weird glances thrown in his direction), Mack let himself fall in the passenger seat. In the circle of the habit, Will turns on the car, letting Mack with the music choice, even if he knows he will put some shared playlist they created with each of their mutual recommendations. Except, this time, Mack doesn’t immediately reach for his phone to open Spotify.
- What ? You let me put my music, now ?
- I…never said that ! protestes Mack. I just thought you– nevermind.
Will’s face crumbles.
- Oh. I thought you wouldn’t like it if I mentioned it again.
- Well…I thought you were going to apologize, like, forever.
Will chuckles, relaxing in a less “I’m gonna drive.” position to talk fully to Macklin. Which is not optimal for the concentration of the latter.
- Seems like we thought completely opposite things, Macky.
Mack tried not to choke on his own saliva after the nickname with success, but the redness on his cheeks had certainly never been this intense.
- Y-yeah, he struggles to say.
- Anyway, continues Will, as if nothing happened, here’s your apology : sorry I hit you with that stick, at practice. I…didn’t see you, as I said earlier.
He seems guilty, and it’s the least Mack wants right now –a guilty Will Smith alone in a car with him.
- It’s funny…you always see me. I mean…on the ice. It’s like…we’re telepaths, or something, Mack struggles.
Will laughs, good naturally, but there was also a sort of seriousness that didn’t quite go away.
- Yeah, I…know.
He runs his hand in his hair, biting his lips at the same time.
- Listen…he started, you must now think that I hit you on purpose. But I didn’t see you, I fucking swear, bro.
- It’s fine, dude, really, it is. Guess it’s not really your fault, there must have been some…telepathic issues between us, I guess ?
Will smiles and relaxes. He grips the steering wheel, finally putting the car on drive.
- Bruh, I guess. Marleau’s ?
- Yeah, go for it.
Will drives in silence, listening to the gentle chatter that is just coming out of Mack’s mouth without him really thinking about it. The youngest had just put on whatever music he found (some sort of instrumental, rock thing), and had started some monologue about a café he saw on TikTok that was apparently in San Francisco and was serving some really good tiramisu. Will must admit that he was now rather hungry.
- Taco Bell when we get home ?
Will cringes at his own words. Home. As if they are living together. Mack, though, doesn’t really pay attention to it.
Yeah, sure.
After a second of silence, Mack return to what he was talking about, already rambling about whatever plans he would like to do for the weekend, even if it is only Wednesday.
- Would you mind if I take a shower ? ask Macklin as soon as they crash on the couch in the living room.
- Yeah, no problem. You want the same thing as usual ? For the Taco Bell ?
Mack hesitates a second before answering while he stands up, but finally shrugs.
- Yeah.
He (tries to) walk at a normal pace to the bathroom, but ends up racing to lock the door behind him once he’s out of Will’s sight.
- Home !?
It was still stuck in his head after all. Maybe it was because Will said it. Or he’s just an incredible moron because he’s in love with his best friend and doesn't know what to do with these big feelings. Either way, it’s not a good idea to let Will know he makes a big deal of it.
Mack undresses quickly and steps in the shower. If he were at Thornton, he would put music with his speaker, but he didn’t have it, and he doubts his cellphone would survive if he tries to put it in the shower with him. So it’s just him and his thoughts, now, yay.
When he finally steps out of the shower, his skin has started to turn reddish. He doesn’t have enough time to think about it for more than one second, though, as he sees his phone illuminate on the counter.
Will
have you drown?
nvm, forgot you actually take one hour to shower
foods there btw
*Picture of Will holding two Taco Bell’s bags in his hands while having an exaggerated smile on his face.*
Mack
dude i just finished wait for me
actually that sounded selfish, eat without me
Will must not have liked the answer, because he texts him a crying emoji before writing again.
Will
nope, am gonna wait
you earned it, superstar. youre the one i hit with a fucking stick earlier
Mack shake his head, incredibly fond of his best friend.
Mack
fiiine
He dresses himself with the clothes he wore before his shower and walks to the living room. Will had already taken the food out of the bags, and had spread it out on the small living room table between the fireplace and the couch. The TV above the fireplace was open on some game that Macklin recognized easily, even if it hadn't started yet.
- You really put the only game today that was specifically Canadian ?
Will turns toward him.
- Well, there were two choices, and I figured out you would prefer this.
Mack shrugs, not mad with the choice.
He let himself fall on the couch beside Will, at a rather reasonable distance.
- By the way…where are the Marleau’s ? he asks while taking his food.
- Oh, they left yesterday. I didn’t ask why, answers Will, unbothered.
- Mmm.
They start to eat, Mack zoning out while staring at the TV. They don’t talk for a while, even when the game starts. Five minutes into the game, though, Will’s phone illuminates itself, showing a call incoming. He takes it and stands, answering as soon as Mack lowers the volume of the game.
- Hi ? [...] Oh, hi Toff ! [...] Yes, he’s alright…why ? [...] Oh, yeah, I see. Nah, he’s good, we’re eating Taco Bell in front of a Montreal versus Ottawa game. [...] Yes, what do you want us to watch, golf ? [...] Okay, okay…anyway, we’re good, thanks- [...] I’ll tell you later. Good night, Toff.
Mack had been disinterested by the call until the last sentences. He frowns, and diverts his eyes from the game to look at Will, who was slowly coming back on the couch.
- What will you tell him later ?
- Mmm ?
- What will you tell him later ? repeats Mack, trying to seem detached.
Will freezes.
- Um…nothing important…
- Come on, dude, I’m literally telling you everything.
- It’s not…Will sigh. It’s between me and Toff, okay ?
Mack shot him an unimpressed look.
- Literally nothing is between you and Toff.
Will bites his lips, trying to relax into the couch.
- Anyway, he just wanted to check on you.
- And…why did he call you ? He could have just called me. I would have answered.
- Well…Will runs a hand over his face, trying to keep his composure. He probably thought it would piss you off if he was being a dad–
- Yes, but he wanted the “thing you’ll tell him later”, I guess ?
Macklin saw the exact moment where he crossed the line. The worst was that he knew it. He knew this was the line. Mack knows everything about Will. Everything. How he smiles, how he looks at him, how he eats, how he sleeps, how he walks, how he’s literally standing. And with all that, he unfortunately also knows how he cries, how he becomes upset, how he is when he’s sick, how he breaks. And that means that, despite being his best friend, Macklin knows how to break Will. How to push the right buttons. How to twist the knife right where it hurts the most. And Macklin hates himself for it.
Will stands, avoiding Mack’s gaze and mumbling something like “Gotta shower too…”, before walking out of the room.
One ring. Two rings–
- Hello ?
- Toff, I fucked up…
He hears Toff laughing slightly on the other end of the line while sighing. But he had clearly laughed.
- Okay. What have you done ?
- I– ugh…I think I pushed Will too much.
- Figuratively or literally ?
- Huh ? What does that even mean ?
Toff laughs for a second time, and Mack thinks he heard Cat laughing as well in the background.
- Nothing, tell me everything.
- Ugh, okay. Well, you see, you called him, okay ? And at the end of the call, he said something like “I’ll tell you later”, and then I asked him what he was talking about ‘cause, you know, we tell eachother everything, and it would be weird if he just, doesn’t tell me what he was talking about ! But after I asked him, he just changed the subject and told me you just wanted to check on me, and then I asked him why you didn’t call me instead, and he said that it would have probably pissed me off that you were trying to make a dad move, and then I cut him, just to talk about the “I’ll tell you later” shit and now he’s in the shower and– and– fuck ! He looked so disgusted by me, Toff !
Mack tears his hair with his free hand, his throat feeling weirdly constricted. He’s sure if he talks a little bit more he’ll start crying for good.
Toff is not laughing anymore, at least, and he answers him seriously.
- Well…if I understand everything right in your story, buddy, you’ve gone a little rough on him, you know…
- I know ! I didn’t want to do it ! I’ve just…done it ! Like it’s fucking second nature ! Which it’s– it’s fucking not, Toff !
-I know, kid, I know. You just wanted to…know what he was hiding from you…and that’s normal ! It’s completely normal human behavior, bud.
- How– Toff how is this a normal behavior !? I hurt my best friend !
Now Mack is sobbing, face in his hand, curled in the sofa. He hears the shower running in the background, but now his mind feels cloudy. He would just like to cuddle with Will. But he’ll never cuddle with Will, because, obviously, Will hates him, and he’ll never talk to him again. And he’ll never be able again to trace his lips, to appreciate his eyes wander until it lock with his, to admire the way his hair fall gracefully on his forehead, to look at him glide effortlessly on the ice–
- Toff, I’m in love with him, he blurs out before Toff could say anything else.
There’s a silence, charged with tension, and then–
Mack jumps. There is a loud noise of someone who, obviously, drops a full water bottle.
- What the f–
Will stands, guilty, in the kitchen, behind the kitchen island. His mouth is hanging open and his eyes are wide. Mack realises too easily that he must have heard him fucking confess.
The younger man stands fast, letting the phone fall from his ear.
- I’m sorry you– I mean–
- It’s me. I didn’t make noise, I just– just got out of the shower…Will mumbles the last part.
He picks up the bottle and tries to escape toward the bedroom, but Mack beats him to it. They calculate eachother in silence, before Mack takes a deep breath.
- Listen, I– it’s okay if you don’t return the feelings, we can…stay best friends. Or just friends. Or even…teammates.
Will looks at him with a mix of understanding and pity.
- Mack, I–
Mack is already crying from earlier, but now it’s even more ugly.
- I– I understand ! You don’t want a– a gay best friend, or even teammate, I guess…I’m…fucking sorry…
He hates crying in front of Will so much.
- Hey, hey, Macky…
Will takes the phone out of Mack’s hand, puts it on the counter, and embraces him in a hug. He shushes him gently, rocking them on one foot to another. Mack doesn’t really understand why he’s being comforted, but he can’t let his mind from falling into a blank space without a single thought, with how Will’s arms are around him. When he stopped crying, he lifts his head, looking into Will’s bright blue eyes. They are gazing at him so tenderly that he almost drowns in it.
- Mack, Will whispers, I have something to tell you. Can I ?
They are still rocking calmly, and Mack’s breathing stabilizes with the gentle rhythm. He let his head do a small nod before closing his eyes, letting himself sooth by Will’s fresh “out of the shower” scent. Will let his forehead fall on Mack’s.
- I’m bisexual.
Will whispers it like it was a secret, and not even like it was bad, or anything. Mack shudders, his eyes flewing open.
- You– you are ? Mack whispers back.
- Yes, and…I love you too.
He seems embarrassed, as just a little blush covers his cheeks. His eyes flicker down Mack’s lips just a second, but it’s enough for them to acknowledge it. Mack’s own gaze falls toward Will’s lips.
- Really ? he asks in a breath.
- Yes. Can I…?
Mack nods, closing his eyes as he already senses Will’s breath mingling with his own.
The kiss is all he could have dreamed of. It’s sweet, tentative…it’s all Will.
Mack's hands were on the small of Will’s back, and it takes only a little tug for the kiss to become heathen. Already, they are kissing as if their life depends on it, and Mack is suddenly turned around, his back hitting the counter. He buries his face in Will’s neck, like he wants to hide from the world.
Everything alright, Macky ? ask softly Will.
- Yeah, just…sleepy…
Will takes his time when Mack finally falls asleep to try to untangle himself from him. They didn’t turn off the lights, lock the front door, or even turn off the TV. All the junk from their late dinner is still there, and Will picks up everything before Mack wakes tomorrow morning and starts stressing over everything little things that are not clean enough just because he saw one big thing that was gross.
As he gets to the kitchen, he sees Mack’s phone, still on the counter. Once his hands are free, he takes it with the intention of returning it to its owner. The thing he sees on the screen, though, is not what he thought.
It’s still lit up by Toff’s call. Which is still running. Will puts it on speaker.
- Toff ?
There’s a second of silence.
- Yes, bud ?
Will groans.
- You heard everything, don’t you ?
- Yep.
Will runs his hand in his hair while he hears Toff and Cat giggling.
- Not a single word to the others, okay ?
- Okay, we’ll just be pretty and silent, answers Cat.
- Not. A. Word.
He cuts the call. He would like to be angry, he reflects weirdly, but it’s more a relief than anything. A relief to know that, at least, there are two other people in this world who know about what they really are to eachother.
When Will slips into the bed next to Macklin, it’s like the only thing that exists is the calm way he breathes. And it’s enough.