werrchis
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- Men's Hockey RPF (3)
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Summary
Will suddenly found it hard to stand still.
A sharp, almost painful desire rose in his chest to turn off the water, get out, not even dry off properly, walk barefoot across the cold floor, and just hug him. Tightly, so Mack could feel it: he wasn't alone.
To tell him he was great. That he tried harder than anyone.That a couple of games didn't define anything. To repeat it over and over until Mack stopped stubbornly staying silent, until he believed it, until even the thought of his own "inadequacy" seemed foreign and absurd.
Will ran his hand over his wet face and closed his eyes.
Sometimes words don't change anything. But sometimes a person needs someone who will say them as many times as it takes. -
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"Mack… please…" – It was a groan, full of agony and plea. Will could no longer think in words, only in sensations. The world narrowed to the palm of Mack's hand moving in a precise, measured rhythm, to his scent – clean sweat after a workout, with an underlying hint of something woodsy. But there was something else… Something unique that Will associated only with him.
"Please, what?" – Mack insisted. His voice was hoarse, but there was a note of teasing in it. He didn't speed up, didn't slow down, playing his game. His fingers moved with dizzying skill, finding sensitive spots Will didn't even know he had.
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"You silly..." Smith snorted and hugged Mack even tighter, knowing that this was exactly what kept Celebrini afloat, what kept him from giving up. He had guessed, of course, that Mack would find it strange to play without him, but he clearly hadn't thought it would be a reason for tears. "I'll always be nearby. I'll always be watching, and I'll always be happy for you."