Work Text:
Mack has never never been one for substances. Hockey has been his drug, parties were fun but he hated forgetting them so he learned his limits. Other than a couple of nights with his team, he stuck to those rules.
Mack however, has never gone past alcohol. Which brought him to yesterday when he walked past Will who was lounging in Mack’s room, biting on his straw while scrolling on his phone.
Mack tilted his head, his friends blue eyes reflecting the loud video he has on blast.
“Want to get high?” Mack asks, catching Will's attention easily.
Will raises a brow, “Sure.”
So they go to a smoke shop, courtesy of Will's real ID and Macklin’s money. Mack lingers behind, looking into the glass displays and feeling incredibly uneasy, considering his age.
Macklin eyes Will at the counter, smiling and laughing like the high idiot behind the register is hilarious. Maybe he is.
They leave just after Mack almost knocks over a bong and an hour later, Will is teaching Mack how to inhale while sitting on a tree that was knocked over a river.
They’ve got one blunt between them, choosing to light up instead of facing the idea of getting caught hiding a pen by the Marleaus- or worse, Toff.
Mack wonders how Will knows about this spot, but then he starts coughing hysterically while Will watches.
Will claps his friend on the back, his hand lingering in the touch that makes Mack choke, “You good, princess?”
“Shut the f-” he coughs again. “up! Jesus, I think I'm dying.”
“You’ll be okay, Celly, try again.” Will lifts the weed to Macklin’s lips, “Take it slow.”
Mack doesn’t even think to take it from him, just lets the smoke fill his lungs before- more carefully this time- blowing it out.
Will, he watches. Watches the last of the smoke drift from Mack’s unsuspecting lips as he rambles about not feeling it yet.
Will hopes he’s feeling it because there’s no other explanation for what Mack is doing to his mind. Not the weed. Mack.
It’s all green around them, Mack's eyes included, except for the river which matches the sky. And Will's eyes.
Will tilts his head back and exhales. “After our last game in college, I got high with Leno and Gabe and some of the boys on the roof of our dorm room.”
Mack nods, “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Kinda a lot though… This feels better.”
Mack is definitely feeling it now, coming onto him like a slow blanket of breath.
“I think I like it.”
This makes Will smile. He was way too pleased when Mack had asked him.
There’s a small part of Will that’s split in half. One loves the innocence that Mack brings, the odd bits of his life that completely differs from Wills. The other couldn’t think of a better hobby than corrupting him.
“Shouldn’t be a habit.” Will makes sure to say because he wants that first part of him to stay partially intact.
“No. My dad would kill me.” Will smiles softly, turning his head to look at Mack which feels like more effort than usual.
“No. Just to take the edge off.”
“That’s what hockey usually is for me.” Is Mack really talking that slow?
“You’re the most interesting person I've ever met in my life, Mackie.” The nickname slips out and Mack tries really hard not to smile.
He does blush, though. He’s a sucker for compliments, even oddly worded ones.
It starts to hit hard after Mack has another coughing fit, “God, people really just feel like this, huh?”
Will smiles, his eyes low as he nods. He’s straddling the tree now, facing Mack who’s got one leg bent between them.
“Trippy, huh?”
Will holds the blunt between his pointer and thumb, sucking in the bitter taste. The smoke makes room for slow thoughts in his foggy brain. He thinks that Macklin must taste just like this right now.
They talk about everything and nothing all at once, the sun slowly setting to leave a golden light cast over them.
The rays of sun turn the smoke into gold, floating between and above them like some sort of ritual. Mack watches with wide eyes, his mouth slightly parted in awe.
It lights up Will's hair, like a crown of gold sits atop his head. It’s blonder than usual and forces the word Rapunzel out of Mack’s mind.
Will doesn’t even get mad because he follows the comment up with a quote about how he always secretly wanted to be like Flynn as a kid, half paying attention to his sister's film.
Macklin likes the certainty of knowing that Will feels the same right now, he likes the mutual understanding of a light mind and the gravitational pull that tugs at his chest.
He thinks Will looks really pretty, but that’s not new.
He takes another drag and wonders if those thoughts will ever go away. He doubts it.
They don’t talk about hockey, or their friends, or their futures. Mack does his best to not bring up the warm feeling in his chest that lights up with every pass of their shared blunt.
It's unexpectedly intimate, to Mack at least. Maybe he should have seen it coming. It’s the one thing he can’t tell if Will feels too.
Mack reaches out to touch Will's face, and the blonde doesn’t even flinch. He feels soft under Mack’s fingers, like he may not be so out of reach.
“Shit… you're high.” Will whispers, letting out a soft laugh at Mack’s expression and red eyes.
“So are you.” Mack mumbles, his hand floating back down to the wood. Will has the urge to follow it, like he should be in Mack’s reach always. “You’re…”
Will nods softly for him to continue.
“Nice.” The brunette finishes.
“Nice? Good to know you feel so strongly.”
Mack does feel strongly, he doesn’t half ass anything. Wills hand drops down and instead of hitting the tree it lands on Mack’s knee, bare to his shorts which are hiking up his thighs.
The heel of his hand rests against him, the wrapped weed sitting between his fingers lazily. Neither of them even look at it, their eyes which match their surroundings locked on each other.
Will feels like if he takes another breath his hand might fall through Mack’s leg and this would be ruined. Mack hopes to remember this forever, the image of Will, bathed in pink and orange now
“I like being high.”
Wills mouth moves without permission. “You look good high.”
Mack giggles, his mouth going crooked. “Yeah? I’m not some blur to you right now?”
“Is that what I am to you?”
Mack shakes his head. Will is nothing but clear right now. “No… you’re like, in portrait mode.”
Will laughs until he’s crying. Mack just watches.
Mack looks down at his hands and almost gets distracted by the view of Will's touch on his leg.
Mack looks up at his friend, “I feel so… calm.”
“Nice, huh?”
“So nice.” Mack whispers, looking around in eyes that refocus every other second. He still smiles at the blur of green trees and plants which kiss the blue over them.
“I like being high.” Macklin says, his head slowly falling back down to Wills.
Wills eyes stray to what’s been occupying his mind for the past few minutes, Mack’s lips looking more inviting than ever.
Mack knows he’s looking at his lips, even when he stops to come back to Macklin’s eyes. He doesn’t know why Will looked there, why he’s now taking one from the blondes book.
They're both staring and neither of them know it.
Will leans forward slightly and Mack doesn’t think, just leans in and after a second of debate so close to the target, Mack kisses Will in the softest manner possible.
Wills eyes shut dreamily and he’s leaning into it now, allowing Mack the same heaven as their drugs have been in.
It’s addictive. Not the weed, not to Will… the way that Mack feels against him.
Mack breathes in against Will and his weight is pushed into his own hand against Mack’s thigh. Mack is gorgeous, even in feeling only, he’s it.
Soft and gentle and making Will's whole body swell with emotion.
The string of saliva between them is licked away by the movement of Mack’s tongue darting over his lips, pressing them together as if to savor the taste.
Will can’t breathe and at the same time, he knows after that, he won’t ever stop.
They just stare at each other.
Mack blinks and can’t tell if that was a creation of his own desire. He knows how Will Smith scores, passes, eats, sleeps, and now- he knows how he kisses.
Will feels like he’s never kissed anyone up until this moment, with these trees and that running water and one Macklin Celebrini blushing in front of him.
Mack takes Will's wrist and brings his hand to his face, angling it so he can suck up the last good part of the blunt.
Will's hand doesn’t even make it back down before Mack is leaning in, putting his hand on the side of Will's head, entangled in the gold.
Macklin breathes out slowly, the sensual fog drifting from the brunette's lips to his best friend's mouth in the act of friendship, then the distance closing with another kiss in the act of love.