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“Will,” Mack calls out, feeling his boyfriend’s not-quite-quiet breathing against his neck.
It’s a lazy night in their apartment. They had the day off and decided to make the best of it—that being alternating between having sex, ordering takeout, and watching movies from their watchlist.
Now it’s a little past 11 p.m., and Macklin is scrolling through TikTok and cuddling on the couch with his boyfriend, whom he believed was watching the videos with him.
The apartment is a little messy, which sets him off a bit, and he makes a mental note to at least fold the blankets they brought into the living room and throw the empty food containers in the trash before going to sleep.
“Will?” he calls again, noticing how Will’s hand on his stomach has gone still.
Mack turns slightly in his embrace to look at him. Will stirs, furrowing his eyebrows before opening his eyes.
“What? Oh, sorry.”
He looks so soft under the warm yellow light from the only lamp they have on. Mack almost feels bad for waking him up.
“What’s up, baby?” Will says, his tone soft and his voice slightly raspy.
Macklin bites the inside of his cheek, still deciding whether or not to indulge himself by asking the question he’s been meaning to ask for at least five minutes because of a stupid TikTok video.
Will seems to notice that, because of course he does.
“What is it?”
“I was just thinking,” he says, looking into Will’s stupid blue eyes intently. “Would you, like, change your name for me?”
“Would I what?” Will asks, blinking slowly the way he always does.
Mack realizes the question came out weird.
“No—not your name. I mean, like, your last name,” he says, the last part a bit quieter. “Like, when we get married or something.”
Or something.
He feels a little uneasy as soon as the words leave his mouth. It’s stupid. It really is. He’s been Will’s boyfriend for nine months now after dancing around each other for over a year. They fucking live together. Their families know, and their teammates know. Why is he so shy talking about marriage?
He tries to avert his gaze from Will’s eyes, which now have a lopsided smile threatening to appear.
“You’re blushing.”
Macklin glares at him.
“Shut the fuck up,” he says, trying to sound angry, but he buries his face in Will’s chest anyway. “Forget I said anything.”
Will tightens his embrace, and Macklin can feel him laughing from where he’s hiding.
“Go fuck yourself, William,” he says, but his voice comes out muffled by the fabric of Will’s shirt.
“No, baby, wait.” He drags out the last word and reaches for Macklin’s nape, stroking the hair there. “I’m not laughing at the question. I just think it’s cute that you’re blushing.”
He tilts Macklin’s head upward slightly so he can place a kiss on his forehead, finally managing to make Macklin look at him again.
Mack doesn’t mean to pout, but of course he does. Will, of course, kisses it.
“So answer the fucking question,” he says, pulling back a little to look at Will properly.
Will doesn’t hesitate.
“No, I would not.”
“What the fuck?” Macklin frowns, exasperated.
Will laughs, stupidly beautiful teeth and all.
“What? I answered the question.”
Macklin rolls his eyes. “Well, wrong answer!”
“Well, would you?” Will has the nerve to match his exasperated tone.
“No, because I have the cool last name here!”
Will barks out a laugh. “What does that even mean?”
“That means it makes more sense. Why would I prefer Smith over Cele-fucking-brini?” he points out. “I mean, it’s literally the most common name in America. There are, like, a thousand people with Smith as their last name.”
Now Will rolls his eyes. “I’m sure there are more than that, Mack.”
“Exactly!”
“Well, then keep Celebrini, and I’ll keep Smith. It’s a nice last name, and my family takes great pride in it.”
“Of course they fucking do,” he barks. “I prefer Comiskey, personally.”
Will sighs. “Yeah, I’d like to have that one.”
“But not Celebrini?” he insists.
“Look, I never said that,” Will says in the tone that means he’s almost surrendering.
“Well, then what do you think we’ll do?”
Will sighs softly, looking up as if deep in thought. “We could, like, hyphenate them.”
Macklin doesn’t mean to look at him like he’s grown a second head, but he probably does, because when Will looks at him, he laughs at the expression on Mack’s face.
“Shut up and explain.”
Will laughs a little harder before having his side pinched. “Ow!”
“Yeah, you deserved that one,” Macklin says smugly.
“Hyphenate means to, like, join them both and put a hyphen in between. So that would be Smith-Celebrini.”
Oh.
“Smith-Celebrini?” Mack repeats, sitting up a little and tasting the words in his mouth. “Smith-Celebrini…”
Will traces a finger over his thigh lazily before threading their fingers together. Macklin looks down at him.
“Or Celebrini-Smith. I’ll let you have that.”
Mack smiles. “Very nice of you.”
Will offers a smile back.
“And that would differentiate me from Will Smith the actor, so it’s great.”
Macklin laughs. “Like ‘Hockey’ doesn’t already do that for you?”
“Not the same.” He squeezes their hands harder, as if to make a point.
Macklin blushes.
“Our children will have a really cool surname. I don’t even think we’ll have to put much thought into their first names.”
Now Will is the one blushing, and he clears his throat before speaking.
“If we, like,” he sounds unsure, which is cute, “get married and come out before we retire—”
Macklin stills.
It is a sensitive topic for them. The NHL is not progressive enough right now for them to seriously consider it; they can only hope.
He hums, encouraging Will to continue.
“Would we, like, use it on our jerseys?”
“Hell, no,” Macklin says immediately.
Will laughs incredulously. “Now you’re the asshole!”
“I’m really not! It’s just a big-ass name to put on a jersey, and we would have to use our initials to differentiate ourselves, which would make it even bigger,” he explains.
“Of course you’re thinking about the logistics while I’m trying to be romantic.” He rolls his eyes.
Macklin bites his lower lip to suppress a laugh. He loves when Will acts like that, all soft around the edges and always the emotional one in their relationship.
“We could get special ones with Celebrini-Smith on them, to keep it to ourselves.” His voice softens.
Will’s smile is so soft. “Okay, I’ll take that.”
“But, man,” Macklin changes the subject, “your name would be a fucking mouthful.”
He reaches up with his free hand to tuck a stubborn curl behind Will’s ear.
“William Charles Patrick Celebrini-Smith,” he says slowly.
Oh.
He watches as Will’s eyes darken slightly. Macklin didn’t mean for it to sound so sensual, but of course it lands the way it does with Will.
“So that would make you… Macklin Richard Celebrini-Smith,” he says, his voice dropping at least an octave.
Macklin licks his lips, and of course Will tracks the movement, and he almost laughs at that.
“Are you, like, turned on? Just from thinking about it?” Will doesn’t need to respond. “Freak.”
Will smirks and shifts closer, sitting up on the couch until their faces are only inches apart.
“Oh, I’m the freak here?”
Their faces are so close. Their eyes half-lidded.
“You are.” He leans in and gives Will a little peck. “You always have been.”
“You’re the one who got caught by the camera looking at me with hungry eyes when I wore your BU jersey.”
Will leans in and gives him a peck too, a lingering one. His hands move to circle Macklin’s waist.
They’re almost whispering, like they only want each other to hear what they’re saying, even though there’s no one else in the apartment.
“You’re the one who fucked me into the mattress while I was wearing your BC one.”
That seems to do it for Will.
He surges forward, capturing Macklin’s lips in a bruising kiss. When Macklin opens his mouth, Will immediately slips his tongue inside.
It’s a bit rushed, considering they’re in the quiet of their apartment, but that’s just how things get between them.
Macklin is so glad he found someone who matches his sex drive so well. He knows exactly which strings to pull to get Will to do exactly what he wants.
That’s what happens when Macklin arches his back where Will is holding his waist. He pulls Macklin into his lap in one swift movement. Macklin whines into the kiss.
Will pulls back just enough to say, “Here or in our bedroom, Mr. Celebrini-Smith?”
Macklin giggles against his mouth.
“Fuck you.”
“No, the other way around.” Will bites his lip teasingly.
“Here, Will Celebrini-Smith Hockey.”
Will laughs, but soon his smile turns into something warmer and more tender.
“I love you so much.”
He doesn’t let Macklin say it back, because he doesn’t need to.
Macklin smiles into the slow kiss he’s pulled into.
He could not have asked to be anywhere better.