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Macklin knows something is wrong, he cannot pinpoint exactly what but he knows something is up with Will. He has been feeling it for quite a while now, how could he not?
They are with each other all the time, or well, they used to, nowadays Will is quick to turn down hanging out with Macklin because he apparently has something to do, and it's starting to get on his nerves. Will could at least tell him what he gets up to when he's not with him. He obviously knows Will is not obligated to tell him anything but still, they are best friends. It feels like he has a right to know, they usually live out of each other's pockets.
Macklin has had a sinking feeling in his chest for some time, not getting a reason as to why Will is pulling back has him kind of spiralling, is he too much, too clingy, or something? He would at least like to know, you know.
So, this brings him to what he is about to do, getting into his car, he does have a license, thank you very much, it's just easier to get picked up by Will, or that is at least what he tells himself, it is good for the environment to car pool and what not. That is besides the point, he pulls up to Will's place, or rather the Marleau's but that’s Will's place for the time being.
They have been talking of getting a place together next season so, whatever is going on with Will and himself, needs to be sorted out. Preferably urgently, if only so Macklin can stop himself from going fucking insane. Will's is evidently not home, his car is not in the driveway. Then he was at least not lying as to having something to do after practice. It makes a small part of Mackling relax, he would have been a little upset if Will just wanted the day to himself but didn't tell him.
Macklin lets himself into the home since no one is home. He got a key a while back. Will is one lazy fucker even though they are professional athletes, not wanting to get up from the couch to let him in, crazy. He lays down on the couch with a gatorade he stole from the fridge and waits.
Will must be coming home soon anyway, they have a game later in the evening. Macklin has been scrolling on TikTok for like five minutes and then he hears a car pull up onto the driveway, a minute later Will walks in the door.
Macklin sits up and is about to wave Will over but then he sees him. Macklin is not great with his words and has no other way of describing the blonde in front of him other than, that he looks like fucking shit. Will is standing there, looking fucking miserable and so fucking angry at the same time.
Macklin can see that he has been crying and ran his hands through his hair one too many times. Will has this defiant look in his eyes as they land upon the younger shark on the couch.
“Why are you here?” he sounds as if he has been screaming or something, voice scratchy and wobbly as if he is about to start crying again.
Macklin is frozen in place, this was not what he was expecting when he decided to come here. Not that he knew what to expect but it was anything but this, honestly. He's not sure what to do, Will looks like he is either going to break down any second or like he wants nothing more than to sock Macklin in the face. Macklin is not sure which one he would prefer. They stay like that for what feels like forever, Macklin sitting on the couch and Will standing in the entryway.
That is until Macklin can see a tear make its way down Will's cheek and he tries but fails to wipe it away before the younger shark sees it. Macklin is up and in front of Will in less than two seconds. He just pulls the older one into a bone crushing hug because that is the only thing Macklin can think of doing. He just wants to physically protect his best friend from whatever is hurting him.
But the hug doesn't last long before Will pushes him away, it's gentle but it still makes something squeeze inside Macklin's chest.
“Smitty,” Macklin tries, almost pleads, he can hear how desperate he sounds, but the situation at hand calls for it. Because what the fuck is going on?
“Why are you here, Mack?” Will sighs as he walks over to the fridge and gets a gatorade, then walks back out to the couch and plops down.
Macklin knows he is trying to be casual, trying to pretend whatever is happening is in fact not happening. Will has done so enough times over the course of the season so that Macklin knows what it looks like. Usually Macklin lets him, lets whatever is going on to go away but he is reaching his own breaking point. He feels fucking tired of it, he needs to know what the fuck is going on.
He sits down on the other end of the couch, because he is going to get some answers even though it's the last thing Will wants, to give up the answers, that is.
“What the fuck was that?” Holy shit, that was probably the worst possible way to put it, and that would be correct because Will fucking flinches at his harsh tone, fucking shit.
“Fuck, I'm sorry, just, what is happening? Like, um, how are you?” Mack tries, holy hell, he is bad at this. How do you even talk to someone that is sad, usually it's the other way around? There is something about that, it makes Macklin feel sick to his stomach. Every time he is sad, frustrated or angry after a game, Will is always there to make it better in some way. Sometimes he just listens to Macklin's rants, sometimes he talks about anything not related to hockey to make Macklin get his bearings again. And, sometimes all it takes is a squeeze on his shoulder or knocking his knee into Macklin’s.
God, how can Will be so good at making Macklin feel better but he can't even ask how his best friend is feeling without making him turn away from him?
“Can't you see I'm fucking great?” Will almost sneers. Oh, he is back to being angry, this is bad but somehow easier to handle.
“Oh, I can tell,” Macklin shoots back “now stop it and tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“I can't,” Will sighs, as if all fight leaves his body “Its too complicated, I… just can't.”
“You can't or you won't?” Because there is a distinct difference “I'm your best friend or, well, you’re mine anyway.” Macklin lets out, realizing Will has never actually told him and now he feels kind of stupid.
Maybe Will didn't see them as close as Macklin saw them, fuck. Will has the boys back at BC, Gabe and Leno, they probably are Will's best friends, they have known each other longer. Of course he isn't Will's best friend. Just as he is about to spiral fully, he is pulled out by a whisperer from the other side of the couch.
“You are.” It's only a breath and when Macklin looks up from the floor he has been trying to sink though. He sees Will looking as if he is in pain, eyes screwed shut playing with the pendant hanging around his neck, as it is the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.
Macklin feels his stomach drop out from under him, holy fuck, could it? No, certainly not, or, well, hopefully not. Macklin knows Will has a complicated relationship with religion, he does however not know why that is. All he knows as a stone cold fact is that Boston College is a catholic one and Macklin was not brought up religious so he doesn't know a lot about catholicism, really.
He knows some things though, the pendant Will is wearing is of St. Christopher, the saint of travelers. He devoted his life to carrying people across a river and one day, unbeknownst to Christopher, he helped God over the river or something like that. He only knows that because it's what Will has told him the one time he asked about it. Will had looked kind of uncomfortable while telling Macklin about it, now come to think about it.
The only real other thing that Will has told him is that he has not been to a confessional since he was twelve. Macklin is not sure if Will remembers telling him this, they were drunk, Will more so than Macklin. But now Macklin has this uneasy feeling in his stomach of what if Will has been to church or something.
There are things Macklin knows about the catholic church without having to have Will tell him. One of those things being homosexuality being a sin and all that, and Macklin feels like throwing up. He is not sure what he is, he's had a girlfriend before but he is also pretty sure he is not completely straight.
And like, it's not as if he thinks Will would hate him, partly because of the fact that they're best friends. But, also the whole complicated relationship with God stuff, from Will's part. But now, he feels a little uneasy, like what if Will has figured him out and like has started to go to church and will hate him forever, and like wish him to burn in hell for all eternity. He knows it's a ridiculous thought but he has to ask.
“Have you been to church?”
Will looks at him as if he has grown two heads all of a sudden. Then he fucking laughs as if Macklin just said the most outrageous thing in the whole world. Will is trowing his head back laughing and Macklin cannot stop himself from cracking a smile. Will laughing is like an infectious disease in the best possible way anything can be.
“Now, why the fuck would I have been at fucking church” Will chuckles and it is as if a little bit of the previous tension in his shoulders has been lifted. He still looks tense but it is at least a slight improvement.
“I don't know,” Macklin feels kind of embarrassed but still, he feels like it was a valid question because, “what else would make you look like life was sucked out of you?”
Will looks at him curiously, as if he can see something Macklin can't. It makes him uncomfortable, being stared at like this. He is afraid his face shows too much relief and therefore tells a larger story.
“Mack, I haven't been to church since Boston.” Will is still playing with the pendant, in a way that looks like he cannot decide whether to keep it on or to rip it off. It makes Macklin's chest squeeze again, in a confusing way.
“I thought, I just, you,” Macklin isn't even sure what he is trying to say. He has to take a deep breath before constructing a sentence even feels like an option. “Then, where were you, where have you been going?” Because whatever or wherever Will was today has to be where he's been going since pulling away from Macklin, it must be.
“Fuck, um… well so, I've been going to therapy, um… yeah.” Will almost stutter out.
When Macklin looks over at Will after he drops that fucking bomb onto him, his heart fucking shatters. Will is looking at his hands and they are shaking. He's not playing with the pendant anymore, it just hangs down from his neck swinging slightly because Will is kind of hunched forward.
He looks as though he is about to throw up, as if what he just said was the hardest thing he has ever had to do. And Macklin can't stop himself, he moves slowly, until he sits just beside Will. But, he doesn't touch him, cannot handle being pushed away twice in under half an hour.
“Okay,” Macklin almost whispers, as if he is afraid to scare Will away, and lets be honest, he is really fucking scared of doing just that. “You can tell me about it if you want, I'll always listen, you know.” Macklin tries to sound as gentle as he can because he really wants his best friend to open up, or at least feel like he can if he wants to.
It seems to work because Will leans back, head on the back of the couch, staring at the roof. Then he is back to playing with the pendant and Macklin doesn't know how to feel about it, it makes him uneasy but Will seems to do it out of habit, or as a way to distract himself.
Still, it makes something inside Macklin feel funny, and not in a necessarily good way. They sit there in silence and just as Macklin is about to try and change the subject, because it seems as though Will is not in a talking mood, the fucking floodgates open and Macklin is not prepared.
“I just poured my trauma out on some sad-eyed, middle-aged man's overpriced new leather couch and we argued about Jesus,” Will sounds kind of distant and Macklin has no idea of how to respond, but he doesn't have to say anything, Will is not done it seems.
“I think we finally found some kind of middle ground, so I suppose I'm cured now.” Will looks over, rolls his head to the side and Macklin is met with a pair of eyes he never wants to see again, they are glassy and barely there. Will looks so fucking broken. Macklin wonders how long he has been holding this in for, around Macklin and everyone else for that matter.
“And I've divided up my anger into like thirty separate parts and I keep it all around my heart.” the first tear makes its way down Will's temple and then disappears into the couch. Macklin feels his throat constrict, just like when you are about to cry, God, this is not about him, he cannot start crying too.
“I'm still angry, so angry at my parents that made me go to church.” and Macklin knows there is a lot of information that he doesn't have. There are a lot of pieces missing to the story but he still feels anger seep through him. How can anyone make someone feel like this? How can a stupid building filled with stupid people make his Will feel like this?
Macklin can't help himself, he reaches over to pull Will into a sideways hug and this time there is no fight left in Will. He practically melts into Macklin, his face finds a home in Macklin's neck. He can feel the wetness from Will's eyes, where his neck meets his shoulder. Will lets out a breath he seems to have been holding, Macklin feels it on his collarbone, through his shirt, fuck.
“But this is a start” Macklin whispers, mostly to himself.
“But I ignore things, and it's like,” Will continues, his voice small and it vibrates through Macklin's body, but he still hears him clearly as he lets it out. “I move sideways, until I forget what I felt in the first place” Will whispers, and Macklin, once again can't help himself.
“What did you feel in the first place?”
“It doesn't matter, at the end of the day, I know there are worse ways to stay alive,” Will croaked, still right into Mack’s neck.
That makes Macklin's eyes fill with tears. How could he possibly have missed this? How could he be so blind as to see how badly Will has been hurting? How has Will become so good at hiding his emotions? That is a question Macklin isn't sure he is ready to know the answer to just yet, though.
“Will…” Macklin starts but Will interrupts him. It's apparent he needs to let it all out or else he’ll never speak of it again. So, Macklin shuts up immediately. Usually not his strong suit but this is not a usual situation either, so.
“It's as if everyone is growing and everyone is healthy, and I'm…” Will stops for a moment, like he is not sure how to go on. Macklin threads a hand through his distraught friends hair and feels him tense up, but then he melts even deeper into Macklin. And Will lets an arm land over his middle, that, oh, holy fuck. Macklin is not sure what to do with himself now that, Will is finally, fucking finally, hugging him back.
“I'm fucking terrified that I might never have met me, never met myself.” Will breathes. And that seems to be the last straw because an ugly and completely broken sob rips its way through Will's chest and out into Macklin's neck.
All Macklin can do is hold onto his broken friend and try to hold the shattered pisces together to the best of his ability. God, Macklin can feel the unleashed tears finally break their way out of his own eyes, they fall freely into Will's blonde hair. He snakes his other arm around his best friend and pulls him closer, so that he is practically in Macklin's lap. He holds onto Will with all his might, he is so afraid that he will disappear if he lets go.
“But I know you,” Macklin whispers into Will's hair “I know you, Will.” he can't stop himself, when it comes to Will he has the worst self control in the world, but what's new? He lets his lips linger at Will's hairline. The older one doesn't pull back, so Macklin kisses his hairline and then his forehead. “Please, let me show you who you are, please.” Macklin pleads in between kisses.
He pulls away and is once again met with Will's eyes. God he will never get over just how pretty a pair of eyes can be, he might be biased. No, you know what, fuck no, he is not biased, Will is one pretty human being, of course he has the prettiest eyes too. They still look glassy, red and so fucking sad, but there is something else there too, something Macklin can't place, something he has not been allowed to see before.
“I don't know how.” Will admits, resting his forehead against Macklin's neck so he doesn't have to look at the younger one of the pair.
“I don't know everything going through that pretty head of yours but I get that you're scared, I'm scared too.” Macklin murmurs, and that is true, Macklin is also scared shitless.
They may be scared of different things but scared nonetheless. Scared of the feelings they both seem to be feeling and what that would mean to them as friends and teammates.
“Mack, I'm so fucking scared.” Will burrows his head deeper into Macklin's neck. You would think that isn't possible but apparently the blonde in his arms doesn't think they are close enough.
It makes Macklin do something, potentially stupid but, oh well. He lifts Will into his lap for real, so that Will is straddling his hips, so that they're chest to chest, face to face. Will looks down onto Macklin from his new position and once again he doesn't push himself away, so that is a win to Macklin.
“I know, baby.” Macklin lets slip and Will looks at him, mouth slightly parted and cheeks pinker than before. Macklin can feel his own cheeks change colour as well, fuck, he didn't mean to say it.
“I don't get why.” Will sounds frustrated, like he has gone from sad to a little irritated instead.
Macklin has no idea whether that is good or bad in this particular situation because everything about this is out of the ordinary, if that wasn't clear enough before this, you know.
“It's like pain is fucking impatient, it's not like it has anywhere to fucking be,” Will huffs out
Macklin can't help it, a small smile is threatening to make its way onto his face. Because there he is, the Will he knows, the smart, witty and kind of bitchy person he calls his best friend. Leave it to Will fucking Smith to get angry at being hurt and feeling pain as if it's a person stressing him out.
“It's like it keeps rushing me.” Will declares.
“Please let me help,” Macklin pleads as he bores his face into Will's neck. “Please let me slow it down for you sometimes.” His words are said into the skin of Will's neck and he can feel a shiver go through the spine of the one who sits in his lap. Macklin lets his mouth wander and explore Will's neck, not leaving kisses really, just trailing them over the skin.
“It's as if my engine works perfect on empty, and I'm so fucking tired of just driving.” Will whispers as a single tear fall down his rosy cheeks.
Will looks so tired, so fucking tired. Macklin just wants to take away the pain and sadness but hes not sure that is for him to do. Will needs to find a way to do that on his own, Macklin can only be here to help on the road there.
“Then I guess I'll just have to drive.” Macklin whispers back and closes the distance between their lips.
It's a gentle kiss, so soft it's barely there, but at the same time it's fucking everything. Especially because Will kisses him back immediately, like it is something they both have been wanting for a long time. When they part Macklin is met with a small smile on Will's lips, not as big as you could've hoped for but it's the first real one he has seen for a long time so he'll take it.