Chapter Text
The music can be heard from a block away, and in the back of Will’s mind he thinks that if he gets any closer, the ringing in his ears may never stop. They had their uber drop them off a few minutes away from the house so they could walk. Leno and that damn uber app. Will can’t help but think of all the people they knew at BC that could’ve driven them.
Will glances at Voter who is walking a few steps ahead of them, in that stupid blue t-shirt he wore just to spite him. He made a bet with Leno that Voter won’t pick up any girl, but Leno has some misguided hope for a measly twenty bucks.
There is a girl shouting into her phone, a red solo cup in her other hand which is crinkled from her grip. She’s leaning on the paint chipped railing of the porch. Will winces slightly as the stairs give in slightly under his feet, if he hadn’t glanced down it wouldn’t be noticeable. His eyes drifted across the expanse of the old porch, catching on half smoked cigarettes and questionable plastic bags strewn across the wood.
Gabe leans in and murmurs something, but Will can’t make it out over the raucous music. The lyrics were cut off every so often by a static bang, and then a resounding thump. He just shakes his head, not caring to ask Gabe to repeat himself as they cross the threshold into the throng of college students. The stench of alcohol clouds the air and only aggravates the humid atmosphere, moisture already collecting on the window panes and Will’s skin.
As they move further into the living room, Will finds himself with a shot in his hand and no clear sight of his friends. Over the echoing bass and occasional stutter of music, Will listens to the drunk celebrations of beer pong, though he can’t see much. He manages to almost trip on multiple pairs of feet before he can get out of the densely packed crowd, where he then brings the shot to his lips and lets it burn his throat. His mouth twists into a grimace, but he meanders over to what he presumes is the kitchen. Solo cups and unlabeled bottles litter practically every open space on the countertops.
“Will? Will Smith, is that you?” a masculine voice exclaims from somewhere to his right, and he directs his gaze upward.
Leaning slightly against the counter is Michael Misa—the two aren’t particularly close, but Misa’s parents have always been welcoming to Will, especially when his own parents semi-kicked him out in high school.
“Misa, how’re you doing? Your parents alright?” Will pours himself a drink of one of the brown-ish liquids in the bottles. A quick sniff confirms it is beer.
“I haven’t heard from you since like Christmas,” Misa takes a sip of his own drink, “I mean— how are you doing, dad said you haven’t messaged in a bit.”
“Tell Toff he can message me himself.” Will smiles as Misa raises his cup in jest.
“Message received, see you later?” he shifts from leaning on the counter and nearly stumbles toward Will, but Will steadies him and gives him a nod.
Some guy wearing a Boston University sweatshirt shuffles into the room and lights up when he sees Misa, as he drags him toward a connecting room Will catches Misa calling the guy some variation of Dickie or Dick—the music had seemed to lower some point during their interaction, but there is a slight ringing in Will’s right ear.
He makes a mental note to actually text Cat and Toff later, probably not when he's hungover.
After finishing off his second drink he refills the cup, and wanders into the living room again before slipping into a side room. It seems like a bedroom at some point: a rustic couch, sporting a few tears, pushed up against the wall; a mattress adorned with a variety of stains, but half-covered with a fresh sheet; lastly, there were knick-knacks present on most surfaces in the room. The lights were dim like the living room, the only light coming from the leds lining the wall.
Will has to squint his eyes as he scans the room for a familiar face, but he doesn’t see any of his friends. Despite this, he settles onto an empty space on the couch next to a man who didn’t seem to be very conversational. This lasts for a total of two seconds before he feels a light touch on his wrist which results in an involuntary flinch. He tears his arm away and leans back against the arm of the couch as he stares, wide-eyed, at the man sitting next to him. There’s this tightness in his chest as his eyes frantically search for somebody to notice what’s going on.
“Shit–sorry, I forgot.” whipping his head to look at the speaker reveals Mack sitting on the couch next to him.
The panic settling in the center of Will’s chest doesn’t disappear, but he feels it fizzling out at the same beat of the music. He hadn’t meant to react like that, so he’ll blame it on alcohol and lack of sleep, but never fear, never something that he would have to confront head on.
“Oh, I’m just tired I mean, I didn’t even realize it was you,” Will utters with a shaky breath, which he disguises with a cough.
“I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, considering what happened—” Will cuts him off before he finishes his statement, “we don’t have to talk about that, Mack”
There’s a slight tension as they stare at each other, unsure of what to say. Will finally breaks the ice, “So, I didn’t know you went to BU, what’s your major?”
“Actually I’m majoring in business, to help my dads with the bar and everything.” Mack’s eyes light up as he talks about his parents, and something in Will’s heart softens.
It’s evident that Mack has an interest in the bar, and Will can’t help but appreciate how he grins with all his teeth, so he asks more, “how long have your parents owned the bar?”
There is something hypnotic about the way his lips move, and Will finds his eyes darting from his eyes to his lips. Macklin doesn’t seem to notice, but Will flushes at his actions all the same.
They continue going back and forth about Macklin’s family and the bar, and it turns out that they’ve only had the bar since Mack started high school. After a bit Mack seems to get a bit flustered, and Will catches the way he rubs his thumb on the back of his other hand in a soothing gesture.
“Sorry for rambling—I don’t really get asked about stuff like that.” Mack doesn’t make eye-contact, but Will doesn’t focus on that.
“Well I asked about it, plus I could use a reprieve from all the stories Leno tells me repeatedly.” Will jokingly rolls his eyes, and that gains a smile from Mack.
The brunette finally looks up at Will, and even in the colored LED lights, he can’t help but think his eyes are pretty. He can’t tell their color, but at this moment it doesn’t matter.
“I forgot to ask, do you go to BU? I haven’t seen you at one of these before,” Mack inquires.
Will lets out a snort at that, “funny story, I actually go to BC, but we don’t have frats, y’know—” he gestures to his necklace, “Catholic”
Mack gives him a deadpan stare, and for a moment Will thinks he’s ruined this careful thing that they’ve constructed.
“I can’t believe you’re an eagle, dude,” Mack sighs and shakes his head dramatically.
“That cannot possibly be your deal breaker,” Will responded.
The other boy seems to be lost in thought for a moment before grinning wildly, “well it seems you have to make it up to me again for tricking me.”
After a few minutes of heated debate, Will finally agrees to bring Mack out somewhere for lunch. In his mind it seems very date-like, but he can’t think that way, not now.
They exchange numbers, and then chat about college rivalries and the drunk guy attempting karaoke in the other room. Eventually, Will gets the urge to use the bathroom, and he scrambles toward the ever growing line. There, he finally spots Gabe and Leno leaning against each other further up the line.
His mother would consider his next actions rude, but that doesn’t stop him from shoving past a few drunk guys making obscene gestures at each other. As he makes his way past a few more people, he somehow manages to bump shoulders with multiple people before getting to where Leno and Gabe are standing.
“Smitty! Gabo here was just telling me how he saw Voter leaving with a certain someone.” A grin breaks across Leno’s face as he slaps a hand on Will’s shoulder and brings him closer to the two.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Will groans as he fishes out his phone to type out a reminder:
Give Leno $20
He shoves his phone back into his Jean pocket, and shuffles forward as the line moves.
——————
Will trudges to his 8am lecture, absentmindedly rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He’s nursing a slight headache, but Leno’s so-called ‘hangover cure’ seems to be helping somewhat. A quick look at his phone reveals that he is a few minutes late.
As he scrambles into the lecture he realizes that his usual seat is taken up by two girls he can’t remember ever seeing before. With this in mind he quickly scans the room and makes his way toward an empty cluster of seats near the middle of the room. Within a few moments somebody slides into the seat next to him.
He doesn’t say anything at first, he just pulls out his laptop and rushes to pull up his notes. The professor doesn’t bat an eye at the two newcomers, but the person who found themselves sitting beside Will clears their throat before speaking.
“You’re Will, right? Will Smith?” He speaks in a half-whisper, careful to not disrupt the lecture.
Will glances around the bright lecture hall, as if searching for some other Will Smith. It’s a fairly common name, sue him for not thinking this random guy is looking for him specifically.
The man in front of him is not familiar in the slightest, with dark brown eyes and short chestnut hair. Will can’t help but think that he looks like Mack, only with darker eyes. He’s been thinking about Mack more often than not, every time he passes the 87th Lane he wonders if he's working. He imagines the way the led lights reflect in his eyes, and the way he smiles with his teeth. Also, the way he looks when—
“Uh, hello?” Mystery guy whispers.
“Sorry, yeah that’s me,” he realizes he probably looked stupid, staring wide eyed at this guy, “what’s up?”
“I’m Eddie, I’m friends with Will Vote,” the man— Eddie—smiles, “I’ve just heard a lot about you, and wanted to meet you, and I figured out we have the same lecture and all that.”
Eddie breaks eye contact, looking down at the table awkwardly before Will answers, “it’s nice to meet you then, you play hockey with Voter?”
The brunette looks up with a bewildered expression, like he hadn’t expected Will to be interested in talking to him, he shakes his head with a laugh.
“Definitely not,” Eddie glances around for a moment, “I uh, I met him at the LGBTQ+ club, his girlfriends bi, yknow?”
Now that comes as a shock to Will, “his girlfriend—he has a girlfriend?”
Eddie’s eyes go wide and he looks slightly frantic, “oh I didn’t know that you didn’t—“
“No! It’s okay don’t worry, I’m not like homophobic or anything,” Will exclaims
He seems to calm down at that, laughing uncomfortably, “ok, but promise you won’t tell him that I told you?”
Will gives a comforting nod. However, this made Will consider the fact that Voter had supposedly been hooking up with a girl last night, was that his girlfriend? Will decides not to think too hard about that.
The two hadn’t realized how long they had been talking for, or rather how late that had been to class, until the professor wraps up the lecture. Will had managed to type up a good portion of notes between talking to Eddie and checking his phone.
Before Will makes his way back to his dorm, he gets Eddie’s number. He also receives a persuasive invitation to come to the alliance meeting sometime. Maybe not now, but eventually, when his identity doesn’t feel so all consuming.
There is something freeing about knowing that Voter was at least semi-supportive. Perhaps he could accept what he felt for Mack, or maybe not, he has to text Toff.
————
He ends up messaging Cat first, a simple ‘how are you doing?’ before switching to Toff’s contact in his phone.
Toff
Will: hey! I was wondering if I could come over 4 dinner?
Toff: you finally decide to join the land of the living?
Will: dude, i’m in college I have priorities
Toff: 🙄
Will: not my fault your ancient
Toff: and here I was about to invite you for dinner on saturday
Will: 5:30?
Toff: 5:30.
With that task mentally checked off, Will wanders back toward his dorm before remembering he promised Mack that they would meet up sometime. It’s mid-day on a Wednesday, and the bar doesn’t open till late today. With that in mind, he pulls up Mack’s contact and invites him to play golf.
The voice in the back of his head tells him that golf is probably not the best first hangout, but it’s the first thing that came to mind. His father always brought Will with him when he went golfing with his work buddies. On the car ride home his dad would talk about ‘networking’ and business. As a pre-teen, he didn’t have any passion for golf, but he had this burning responsibility that sat low in his gut. He was a Smith, and he could take as many music classes as he wanted, but he would always carry on the family name.
Every now and then he wonders what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t been forced to bear his soul to his parents. If he had the option to hide his affection for another man, he could shove it down until it was nothing more than an uncomfortable secret. Some days Will wishes that he could be normal in the eyes of God.
But that’s too much introspection for a few rounds of golf.
————-
It becomes clear to Will that Mack is quite competitive by the time they reach the fourth hole. Mack reveals to him that he goes on a golf trip with his dad and his buddies every year. Apparently his papa, as Mack calls him, hates golf.
At the fifth hole Will manages to get the ball close enough to the hole that he’d be able to get it in with just one stroke, but Mack moseys on over to the ball and bats it away with his own club.
“You can’t do that!” Will exclaims, coming up to stand by Mack who has a cheeky grin on his face.
“Whoops, I think that’s karma buddy,” Mack gleefully walks back to the tee to hit his own ball.
Will narrows his eyes as he stomps after him, “you’re a menace, has anyone ever told you that?”
Mack doesn’t give a verbal response, he just shrugs and swings the golf club. It’s a decent swing, but it doesn’t reach as far as Will’s ball had initially, before somebody happened to move it.
This becomes a theme where Mack tallies up more strokes than Will, and then happens to nudge Will’s ball out of the way. He should say something, should make some chirp about it, but he can’t help the way his eyes linger on Mack’s emerald green ones. Every now and then he will glance back at Will, and Will has to hide the fact that he’s been ogling Mack’s body for the past five minutes. When Mack looks him in the eyes a flush creeps up the back of his neck, and Will thinks he would do anything to keep seeing him smile like that.
That is something that he will keep close to his chest, wedged between that time he wet his pants in elementary school, and the desperate need he has for his mother whenever he cries. It shouldn’t be shameful, but it feels wrong. It’s like he can feel the whisper of every prayer said with his hands gripping the medallion around his neck. He likes Mack more than a guy should like another guy, but if his father taught him anything, it’s that he can’t let an opportunity go.
“Are you sure you play real golf? Or is it some weird Canadian version,” Will quips, which earns an affronted glare from Mack.
“I’m choosing to ignore that,” the boy dramatically turns and begins walking toward the golf cart.
A glance toward the sky shows that the weather is taking a turn for the worse, the once blue expanse of sky is covered in a growing layer of dust colored clouds. Will follows after Mack and hops in the driver's seat of the golf cart after Mack settles in the seat next to him. It’s such a simple gesture, but Will thinks he likes driving Mack around.