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When Mack’s plane touched down in Boston, his phone coming to life with notifications after being on airplane mode for over 5 hours during his flight from Van, he wasn’t too surprised. A bunch of texts from Will came through, but he didn’t linger on them for long or even have time to open them when he saw his phone lighting up with texts from Grace.
It wasn’t unheard of for her to send him funny TikTok’s or reels, or something embarrassing Will did that he knew Will wouldn’t tell him himself, but with her texts coming through most recently, just minutes ago, he opened up their text thread.
Grace-
Will’s sick so I will be ur chauffeur
Lucky I like you
Text me when you land
I’m in the parking garage but I’ll pull around when
you’re coming out.
Mack’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he shot off a “landed just now” to her as he stood up to grab his carry on and disembarked, heading toward baggage claim. Will hadn’t been sick when he boarded 6 hours ago? He hadn’t said anything about being sick when they were on the phone. And even more confusing, Will had to have been really sick if he couldn’t drive to pick him up. Hell, he’d been sick when he picked Mack up coming home from the Olympics, and still doted on him through his coughing and sniffling.
In Mack’s spiral of thoughts he didn’t realize he had made it to baggage claim, and he nearly collided into Grace as she stepped in front of him.
“Mack,” she gasped and grabbed his arm before they could both topple over and he was startled out of his thoughts.
“Jesus!” Mack gasped back, “I thought you were pulling around?” Mack asked, heart beating fast from being startled still, and subtly watching as bags came around the carousel, looking for his own.
Grace shrugged, “I didn’t know if you’d brought your whole life in suitcases and needed help.” She answered and Mack glared at her lightheartedly.
“I literally never do that,” he laughed and slid closer to the carousel as his bag came into view, grabbing it off and nodding once to Grace as they made their way to the exit doors that led to the parking garage. He’d gotten a one way ticket to Boston, never quite sure when he’d be needed elsewhere, but he’d steal clothes from Will’s closet half the time anyways.
“So what’s wrong with my boyfriend? I’m surprised he didn’t still try to come, even if he’s sick.” Mack finally asked, curious and slightly worried still that Will had let Grace come instead of himself. It just wasn’t like him at all, and Mack hadn’t even looked at their texts yet, where he’d probably get the answer, but still asked.
“Oh he tried,” Grace chuckled, and unlocked her car as it came into view, clicking the button to open the trunk for Mack’s suitcase, “barfed in the yard on his way to the car.” She continued and Mack turned his head to her quickly with a shocked grimace on his face.
“Oh shit, he’s like, puke sick, like real sick.” Mack said back as he climbed into the passenger seat of Will’s bronco after his suitcases were loaded, which Grace had clearly only gotten away with driving because he was too sick to fight back about it. The Bronco was Will’s baby, he didn’t normally let her drive it, he barely let Mack drive it.
“And diarrhea, don’t tell him I told you.” She tried to stifle her laughter as she started the car and backed out of the parking spot, heading toward their family home, “he stunk up the whole bathroom by the kitchen, I almost died.” Mack shot her a scrunched nose look, rolling his eyes slightly at her antics. Charlie would say the same shit about him, so he gets it.
“He’s going to murder you for airing his dirty laundry.” Mack laughed and finally pulled out his phone, curious what Will had texted him during the flight. Hearing about Will’s bathroom issues wasn’t news to him— they may be dating but they were both young hockey boys who spent their whole lives in locker rooms, they were already way past being embarrassed about anything, though he’s sure Will would yell at Grace for telling him.
Grace shrugged and flipped the radio on to her country album, lowering the windows so the late afternoon breeze could flow through. It was finally getting nicer in Boston this time of year, “did he text?” Grace glanced over at Mack’s phone when she hit a red light as he thumbed through, reading the torrent of texts from when he’d been on the plane.
“Just while I was on the plane.” Mack answered and kept reading.
Willy-
Idk if I’m nervous or have butterflies or something, stomach feels so weird
Think I’m just ready for you to be here
Making me anxious lol
Those texts had come in just an hour into his flight. Will had clearly started feeling something then. Two hours later, Will had sent another round of texts.
Willy-
Took a nap to make the time pass quicker
Woke up feeling like SHIT
ugh
Definitely not butterflies :( stomach hurts bad
Mom says I have a fever 🤒
Wish you were here already
His poor boy, Mack thought as he read it. He’d seen Will sick with colds and allergies often, but it was rare that Will got sick like this. He can’t even remember the last time his boyfriend had thrown up, his own stomach was normally the more sensitive one of the two.
The last few texts were clearly when Will had got worse and it had been decided that Grace would have to get him from the airport, much to Will’s dismay.
Willy-
I’m throwing up :( need you here
Don’t feel good
Grace is gonna get u from airport, I can’t stop puking
It’s so bad
Mack winced as he read through them and looked up when he saw the familiar neighborhood come into view. He hadn’t been here too often, but the houses were familiar enough that he knew they were close.
Mack was about to text Will back that they were close but then Grace was pulling into their driveway, the familiar front coming into view. Mack hopped out as soon as the car was parked, calling out over his shoulder that he’d get his bags later and for her to leave them.
She shook her head fondly— of course Mack was literally running to her brother's aid. Though she couldn’t help the fond smile that Will had someone who cared about him as much as their family. Will was the baby of the family, and he wasn’t shy about getting doted on growing up, especially when he was sick.
When Mack opened the front door, he didn’t have to go far to find Will, who was curled up on the couch in the front room. He chuckled softly as he made his way over to the couch where Will was laid out like a dying Victorian child; a blanket wrapped around him, a wash cloth resting over his forehead, a bowl sitting on the coffee table lined with a plastic bag.
He’s pretty sure he remembers eating popcorn out of the same bowl last time they were here but chooses not to think too hard about the fact that the bowl had been used for throwing up in AND eating snacks out of. Americans, Mack shakes his head.
Will opens his eyes when he hears the door open again and this time it’s Grace, but his eyes immediately soften when he sees Mack coming to sit on the edge of the couch.
“Mackie,” Will’s eyes sting a bit but he blinks quickly to try and stop tears from slipping out, “you made it.” His voice is soft and slightly raspy as he reaches a hand out and Mack grabs it, other hand going to run through the curls on top of his head. He sees the single tear that starts to slip out of Will’s eye and moves his hand to rub his thumb on his cheek to wipe it away.
“Why’re you crying baby, don’t cry, you’ll make me start.” Mack keeps his voice quiet because he doesn’t know if Will’s head hurts like it does when he’s gotten sick in the past. Will takes the hand that’s not holding Mack’s and scrubs at his eyes.
“Missed you, don’t feel good.” Will’s voice comes out even more raspy than before, and he coughs to clear his throat. It burns in that stinging way after you throw up and he knows he should try to drink something, but last time he’d tried it had made him start puking all over again.
Grace meets Colleen at the edge of the kitchen, watching silently as Mack sits and whispers with Will, both giving each other a soft smile— they can feel the love that Mack has for him and Colleen knows that Will made the right decision in loving Mack. They watch quietly for another minute before retreating to give the boys some space.
“I know, I’m sorry you got sick,” Mack pouts softly as he goes back to running his fingers through blonde curls, Will’s eyes shutting as he leaned into the touch. “Why are you on the couch? Do you wanna get in bed? Might be more comfortable.” Mack asked.
Will nodded once as he started to slowly sit up as he spoke, “mom wanted to keep an eye on me until you got here cause I kept throwing up… and I wanted to wait for you.” Will whispered the last part quietly, a closed lip, shy smile on his face.
Mack smiled back, helping Will to sit up the rest of the way, stopping once he was sitting to let him adjust to the new position as Will took a deep breath in and blew it out just as slow, “you’re sweet, I heard you even yakked in the yard trying to come to the airport.” Mack giggled and Will turned his head quickly toward the kitchen, obviously looking for Grace, but she was already gone.
He palmed his forehead, pulling the wash cloth off in the process, “snitch.” Will said but he couldn’t stop the smile which just made Mack laugh harder.
Mack stood up next and reached down to pull Will up with him, a steady hand against the small of his back, “trust me, that’s not the worst she told me.” Mack couldn’t help but laugh again as Will looked over at him with wide eyes, not quite sure what Grace could have said.
“I’ll spare the details,” Mack snickered again, “do you need this bowl? You gonna make it to the bathroom if you have to puke again?” Mack asked before they started walking toward the stairs.
Will seemed to hesitate and Mack was already reaching to grab it, keeping his other hand around Will, “just in case, also I’m pretty sure we ate popcorn out of this last time we were here… please tell me this is the first time it’s being used for throwing up.” Mack groaned when Will looked at him as they started up the stairs. He knew that look and he did not want to know the answer.
“That’s disgusting.” Mack scrunched his nose and continued to let Will lean on him on their way up the stairs.
“It’s a family relic— the Smith family puke/popcorn bowl. Your family doesn’t have one?” Will asks while he leans his weight into Mack more as his legs shake, exhaustion pulling at him.
“No, that’s— that’s not normal. It can’t be.” Mack shook his head in horror that this seemed so normal to Will. They had made it upstairs and Mack led them to Will’s room, a cute Shark’s emblem on the outside of the door which Mack pointed at with a small “cute” mumbled toward Will.
Mack led Will straight to his bed, pulling back the blankets for him to all but collapse into. Will curled up into a fetal position almost instantly, not moving an inch as Mack fussed with the blankets and pillows, making sure he was comfortable. Will huffed, over sensitive and over stimulated already with all the moving around. He wasn’t gonna be comfortable either way, he didn’t need Mack to fuss anymore.
“Mack,” Will whispered, “just-just lay down with me, please. I don’t feel good.” Will wasn’t actually frustrated and Mack knew that but he stopped moving the blankets instantly with a quick sorry thrown his way.
Making sure the bowl was placed meticulously on the nightstand, close enough for Will to grab, Mack finally slipped out of his shoes and climbed over Will gently to slide under the covers. He laid down close to Will, pushed up on his elbow and rubbed his hand up and down Will’s arm gently a couple times, silent as Will stayed curled up in a ball.
“Where do you want me?” Mack asked and if Will felt better he might’ve found the wording suggestive and flirty. Instead he whined and shuffled around uncomfortably until he had turned over toward him, closing his eyes when the nausea flared and then settled again.
“Can you rub my back?” Will asked so quietly, muffled into the comforter, blinking up at Mack once, then letting exhaustion pull his eyes shut again.
“Yeah baby, c’mere.” Mack opened his arms up instantly, slipping to his back as he pulled his boy closer into his chest until Will’s cheek pressed close, breathing in Mack’s scent that was instantly soothing. His stomach relaxed a fraction— enough for him to feel like he might be able to sleep.
He felt Mack’s fingers pressing into tense muscles, feeling his shoulders ease, back loosening from the strain of getting sick earlier. Will’s breathing evened out then, matching the rhythm of Mack’s chest moving up and down under his cheek, both boys falling asleep easily, finally soothed by the other’s presence.
Hours passed in the Smith household, Mack exhausted from the early flight just as much as Will until he heard the door creaking open, light from the hallway slipping through as Colleen slipped into the room. Mack blinked slowly, adjusting to wakefulness and running a hand over his face.
“Dinners ready, if you’re hungry,” Colleen was quiet as she spoke to Mack, coming over to place a gentle hand on Will’s forehead, while he lay still and motionless against Mack’s chest. “Should get him up for more medicine, see if he can get anything on his stomach.” She continued and Mack nodded, running a hand through Will’s blonde curls that were slightly sweaty from sleeping so deeply against him.
“I’ll get him up.” Mack’s own voice came out raspy from sleep, and Colleen nodded back to him as she made her way back out of the room to let the boys wake up and meet them downstairs.
Mack laid there for a minute, letting himself wake up a bit more, not realizing how tired he had been. They’d been asleep for hours and he was hoping Will felt better, even just a little bit. He didn’t mind taking care of him— on the contrary, he enjoyed being a comfort for Will, but he also hated that his boy wasn’t well.
Will stirred slightly in his arms, and Mack took that as his cue, “baby… are you awake?” He spoke softly, his hands running up and down the expanse of Will’s back, sliding up under his shirt to feel warm skin. Will shivered against Mack’s fingers that slid over his sides where he was ticklish.
“Mhm,” Will hummed back in response, as he too, started waking up.
“How’re you feeling?” Mack asked, arm tightening around him, pressing his lips to a forehead that was definitely still too warm. He definitely needed more medicine, “your mom said dinner’s ready, and you need more medicine.” Mack waited for Will to reply, as Will laid there, trying to see how he was feeling.
“Feel dead,” Will mumbled out as he scrubbed at his eyes. With shaking arms, he pushed himself up off of Mack’s chest, allowing Mack to sit up alongside him, where Mack instantly wrapped his arms around him from the back, slipping his chin over Will’s shoulder.
“Your tummy okay?” Mack’s palm smoothed over his middle and Will’s stomach clenched around the hollow ache, nausea still sitting high in his stomach, though he knew he didn’t have anything in his stomach. He almost felt like he might be hungry— maybe trying to eat something would calm the ache, he hoped.
“Feels weird, hurts a bit.” Will answered and leaned back toward him. They stayed like that for another minute, Will’s head tipped forward, almost feeling like he could fall back asleep again. Mack pulled him back from the slumber, arms unlooping from around him.
“Let’s go try and eat, your mom has more meds.” Mack said as he climbed out of the bed, Will followed, albeit a bit shaky. The boys both made their way down the stairs, finding the Smith clan chatting around the kitchen island, the smell of dinner smacking Will in the face.
Will swallowed around the nauseous feeling and stayed close to Mack as they walked into the kitchen.
“Oh honey, not feeling well still?” Colleen asked as Mack ushered Will into the closest barstool, as she opened the medicine cabinet to pull out more Tylenol and filled a glass with water before setting them in front of her son.
Will just shrugged back and took the medicine, laying his head down in the palm of his hand, a headache pulsing behind his eyes.
Colleen was already filling a plate for Mack, telling him to sit down and eat because apparently he looked equally as terrible, but more so in that he just looked so excited and supposedly way too skinny. Mack just laughed, and sat next to Will, realizing he was hungry and hadn’t eaten since early this morning.
“Do you wanna try some toast, honey? Or crackers?” Colleen asked toward Will, who nodded instead of an answer, not really caring about which one. His stomach had an uneasy knot right in the middle that he really couldn’t tell if it was from hunger or sickness. He hoped it was hunger.
She ended up putting a plate of toast in front of him a minute later, Grace and his dad chatting with Mack to his side that he tried to follow along with but his brain was clearly too exhausted still to keep up, so he didn’t add anything, just listened in and tried to make his way through his toast.
He’d gotten halfway through one piece when it became clear that he was definitely not better and the toast was doing nothing to calm the uneasiness in his stomach like he’d hoped. He took a sip of the water in front of him, trying to wash down the feeling, a cold sweat breaking out across his neck.
Around him his family continued chatting with Mack, catching up on Worlds and how that had been, their voices sounding like a white noise to his ears. He hadn’t even realized he had closed his eyes until Mack’s hand landed softly on his thigh, squeezing gently, a subtle way of checking in.
When he tried to open his eyes the room swam in front of him and he instantly had to squeeze them shut again, a hand instinctively coming up towards his mouth, back of his fingers pressing to his lips softly as he stifled a hiccup that was a little too close to making him gag.
“Will,” Mack’s voice cut through the whooshing in his ears and he didn’t know if anyone else had said anything because he suddenly was so dizzy and so nauseous— he needed to get out of there. The smells of food, the heat breaking out across his neck that burned all the way through his body from the fever, the spinning in his head even with his eyes closed, he was going to puke any second and he knew it.
He pushed out of the barstool, stumbling when pins and needles prickled from his feet all the way up his legs, “I-I need t’lay down..” slurred off his tongue, his own voice sounding foreign in his ears.
Mack grabbed him by the arm, hopping down from his own stool, steering him in the direction of the couch, watching in worry as Will’s face went from pale to nearly gray.
They hadn’t even gotten a couple steps away from the kitchen island when Will started mumbling again, “g’nna be sick,” coming out as his hand cupped around his mouth with a gag, shoulders rolling forward. Mack held him stable, fully succumbing to the reality that Will was just going to have to throw up here and he’d clean it up when Colleen was thrusting the kitchen trash can under him.
It was a bit chaotic in the moments after as Will choked up the little toast and water he’d gotten down, hunched over the trash can miserably, Mack staying right by his side to rub his back. Colleen brought over a rag to place over the back of his neck which did little to ease the nausea but snapped him out of the dizziness a little bit.
Will’s dad and Grace exited the room quietly, giving Will the illusion of privacy, not wanting to overwhelm him as he got sick again that day. Bill stopped by the windows to open them up to get some fresh air flowing in before retreating after Grace.
“Try and breathe, baby.” Mack’s voice was soothing and Will finally felt like he could get a breath in, trying not to breathe through his nose too much as the smell of his own puke and dinner was doing no favors for his stomach.
Mack had encouraged Will to sit down on the floor for a minute because he really did not look great, and when Will had swayed, he panicked that he was going to pass out. He didn’t, but it didn’t stop Mack’s heart from pounding as he squatted in front of Will, pressing cold towels over his forehead that Colleen kept handing him.
Sat in a recovery position, arms wrapped around his knees, Will’s nausea eased enough for him to speak, “wanna lay in bed,” he whispered quietly enough that Mack had to lean down closer to hear him.
Colleen and Mack worked together to keep him steady as they both stood on either side of him, slowly getting him back up to his room, where the fan blew cold air, his blankets wrapping around him, still smelling like Mack. He buried his nose into the fabric, fully hiding under the covers, as Mack and his mom talked quietly to each other, making sure they had everything they would need overnight.
Will felt his mom press a kiss to the top of his head, and didn’t even have the energy to say goodnight back when she whispered it to him. Mack joined him on the bed a minute later, pulling Will’s back gently to his chest, spooning him from behind.
“Feel gross,” Will whimpered out, feeling terrible.
Mack just wrapped his arms around him tighter, gentle fingers sliding across Will’s upset stomach, “M’sorry babe.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck and down to his shoulder. Will eased back into him, letting himself relax.
He didn’t feel good, sickness still pressing at his body from every direction, but he felt himself able to breathe easier here. He felt safe, he felt cared for, he knew Mack would be there to do everything he could to make him feel better. It was one of the many things he appreciated about Mack. He would always, always be there to make everything better.