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Rain beat against the car windows. Mack stared out at it, picking and choosing random drops to follow the paths of. It was the only thing keeping him awake, his brain occupied. His phone was dead, the radio was off, and Will wasn’t talking to him. The tension in the car was thicker than anything.
Mack sighed. He hadn’t meant to piss Will off, but his jealousy had gotten the better of him. He’d lost his temper, and flipped, accusing Will of cheating on him when Mack knew Will would never. Will had made it more than clear how deeply in love with Mack he was, and Mack had thrown it in his face.
He could’ve apologised, should’ve done so by now, really, but Mack knew Will wouldn’t listen. He was still too thick in his own anger and frustration to pay any amount of attention to Mack, and Mack didn’t want to push his luck. He sighed.
“Stop sighing,” Will grit out. Mack winced at the upset in his tone and nuzzled further into his hoodie collar in response. He’d be silent. That was probably the only thing that would make Will happy in that moment, other than Mack maybe not being in the car. Which wasn’t an entirely bad suggestion, the more he thought about it.
“I can get out and walk home if you want,” Mack muttered. Will scoffed, the sound acidic and sharp. Mack could practically hear the spit that flecked forward from Will’s lips.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Will responded. Mack sighed again before he could stop it and sunk further into his chair. He hated arguing with Will more than anything else. It was the most uncomfortable feeling in the world. They weren’t supposed to fight, not anymore. Not since they became teammates, attached at the hip, opposite sides of the same coin in a way that sometimes felt like they were actually just the same side.
The world continued to blur by outside the window in a haze of San Jose silhouettes backlit by an array of artificial lighting. It gave Mack a headache, an unpleasant throb forming in the centre of his forehead before it slowly spread its energy outwards. He whimpered and closed his eyelids, face scrunching up as pain wracked through him.
Will didn’t say anything and Mack was kind of glad. He could barely focus on his own thoughts and feelings, let alone Will’s, and the last thing he wanted was to fall into another argument or fight. He was just so tired.
He blinked owlishly as he tried to keep himself awake, not wanting to burden Will with transporting him from the car to his bed, but it was almost impossible. The solid grumble of the car underneath him and the late hour combined to make him wearier and sleepier. It didn’t take long before he gave in, letting sleep pull him under.
Mack woke up again quicker than he’d expected and when he whimpered and tried to move, he felt fingers press against his torso and thighs, stifling his movements. He peered up at the person carrying him through half-bleary lids, a whine slipping from his throat when he saw it was Will.
“I’m sorry,” Mack muttered. Will hummed low in his throat but didn’t say anything and Mack had to swallow down the tears. He knew it’d failed when he felt wetness at the line of his hair. “Please forgive me. I really am sorry.”
“We’ll talk later. I need my space, and you need sleep,” Will muttered. A sob tore itself from Mack’s throat but before he could apologise for that as well, he was being gently lowered onto his bed. He watched with bleary eyes as Will left the room, not another word falling from his lips as he shut the door tight.
Mack fell back against his bed and leant into the tears. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes until the pressure made stars swim in his vision. He felt fucking awful, and that wasn’t even all of it. They never went to bed angry at each other, and Mack knew he’d fucked up and potentially ruined the best thing he’d ever had.
And then there was the team. If Will broke up with him, it’d shatter him, but also completely fracture the synchronicity of the team. They worked so well because Will and Mack were such a strong leading duo. Had Mack really just gone and fucked that up?
He’d never forgive himself if he had.
❅❅❅
It was half an hour later when Mack finally sat up and wiped the mostly dry tear tracks from his face. He desperately needed a drink, and he knew he couldn’t sit around crying for the rest of the night.
With a sigh and a shake in his legs, Mack stood up from his bed and crossed to the door. The faint shine of lights from the kitchen made Mack gulp and freeze before he whined to himself and shook his head. He couldn’t be feeling like an intruder in his own home. He refused that, no matter how sorry he felt.
Mack made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, ignoring the way Will’s attention snapped to him all at once. He fetched a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the fridge before he leant against the counter and sipped at it. He was avoiding Will’s gaze.
“We should talk,” Will said. Mack turned his attention to him then and he huffed before tipping the glass up, the rest of the water sliding down his throat in gulped waves. Once he was done, he all but slammed the glass on the draining board.
“No thank you. I need some air,” Mack said. He crossed to the small balcony they had and stepped out into the night, entirely uncaring of the faint drops of rain that sunk down into his hair and crept underneath the collar of his shirt. He’d left the door open on purpose, but he hadn’t expected Will to actually follow him.
“You’re acting pathetic right now,” Will said. And that was the wrong thing to say. Mack’s anger flared in him, his fuse as short as always. It was something he’d tried to tamp down over the years, the occasional outburst slipping through on the ice, but he’d never felt this level of bone-deep anger towards Will before. Never towards Will.
“Are you going to talk to me, or are you just going to fucking keep insulting me, Will? Because if so, I’ve got, got like a fucking, a laundry list of fucking complaints I could say that’d keep us here… here until we’re both blue in the face and coming off worse because of it,” Mack said, anger making his words slippery. His hands clenched at his side, breaths puffing out of him in sharp, angry waves. He hated the way he lashed out when he reflected back on it afterwards, but in the moment, it always felt so delicious.
And Mack felt alive with it. The anger that lined his veins and sung in the hollow of his throat make him dangerous and powerful yet also sick in the stomach. Vomit-type sick. He shouldn’t find the heat of his anger so enthralling, but at the same time, it felt good to finally break, to finally give in. He’d been shouldering it for too long.
“What?” Will asked and his voice sounded broken with it. Mack’s anger flickered then, like the white, cloudy puff of Will’s breathing had caressed the flame within him. Unintentionally fuelling in an attempt to distinguish.
“You fucking spent all night flirting with that girl, and you expect me to just be okay with it? Can you really fucking blame me for being angry?” Mack said. Frustrated tears burnt into his eyes and softly dripped off his lashes, mingling with the stray drops of rain still falling down. He cursed and swiped at his face before turning back towards the small garden area. He leant against the balcony, ignoring the way the damp wood soaked into his sleeves.
“Can you… please come inside,” Will said. Mack huffed, the sound bitter and cruel.
“No.”
“Mack, come on, I think the rain’s gonna get worse,” Will pleaded but Mack didn’t care. Let the rain drown him for all it was worth. He didn’t… the embarrassment was back now, his previous anger melting like hot wax. It clung to the inner parts of him in a way that’d be hard to peel off later, jagged and tearing.
“I just want you to make me feel like I’m not going insane. Like you still want me,” Mack whispered. He knew Will hadn’t been flirting with her, had just said it because maybe Will would hit him, would make him feel something other than pitiless, bottomless fury. And Will hadn’t hit him, but the pain in Mack’s sternum made it feel like he had.
“I wasn’t flirting with her. Why would I?” Will said. His voice cracked and it was like he’d opened the skies wider with it. The rain started to flood down, harder than in their car ride earlier, and Mack winced as the harsher droplets smacked against his skin.
“Because she’s prettier and funnier and better than me, most fucking likely. I’m not something special, Will,” Mack said. Will made a wounded noise at that and grabbed Mack’s waist, flipping him around before pressing him against the balcony. Rainwater soaked through his clothes and graced ice-cold against his lower back, but Macklin didn’t pull away. He couldn’t, but also he didn’t want to.
“If you seriously think you are nothing special, you might be stupid,” Will said. His hands shifted from Mack’s waist to cradle his face instead, thumbs soothing over the rain-dampened skin of his cheeks. Mack sniffled and whined softly in his throat.
“I feel awful. I just… she was smaller than you, like her body was made to fit in your arms. I don’t fit,” Mack said. Will huffed fondly and leant in closer, dragging the tip of his nose along Mack’s cheek and jaw until his mouth was right by Mack’s ear.
“You fit perfectly, baby,” Will murmured. It made Mack shiver and he whined softly, knocking his fists against Will’s chest. Will chuckled and pulled back. “And besides, she was trying to get this guy to leave her alone. I just wanted to help.” Mack whined.
“Great, now I feel worse,” Mack huffed. Will cooed softly and pressed a kiss to the wet tip of Mack’s nose before he pulled back.
“Don’t. I should’ve communicated with you, told you what was going on,” Will said. Mack sighed and dropped his head against Will’s chest. He felt hollowed out, the flames of his anger long since dissipated. He just felt itchy and wrong, like a bug was crawling along the inside of his ribcage, like dry wax was crackling and flaking in his lungs.
“I’m sorry. I don’t actually have a list of complaints about you, y’know?” Mack muttered. Will chuckled and soothed his wet hands through Mack’s slicked back strands. The rain was still thundering down on them, melting into the creases of their clothes and trailing bitingly cold paths down their skin.
“I know. If you did, you wouldn’t have stuttered so much when saying it,” Will hummed. Mack huffed and pulled away from Will’s chest, glaring up at him playfully. Will giggled before he hefted Mack up by his thighs, a squeak falling from Mack’s lips as he hastily scrabbled to get his arms around Will’s shoulders.
“What are you doing?” Mack asked. He liked it, but he was also a bit confused. He gasped, however, when Will gently sat him on the top of the balustrade, the temperature of the cold, wet wood seeping through the material of his slacks. “You’re gonna ruin my clothes.”
“Gives me an excuse to get you out of them, no?” Will all but purred. Mack shivered, and it wasn’t due to the rain still biting into his skin. He curled a hand around the nape of Will’s neck and pulled him in, meshing their lips together. Will moaned softly and Mack couldn’t help but moan back.
It was stupid, really, for the two of them to not only argue in the rain, but to makeout in it, but Mack was passed caring. The only thing that mattered was Will’s lips on his, and Will’s hands on his waist. He could forget about anything else as long as he had Will making physical contact with him.
“I love you so much, okay? I never want you to feel like I don’t love you with my whole heart,” Will said when he pulled back. Mack whined and tried to chase after his lips, but Will shot him a look that was more serious than loving, so Mack stopped, a pout on his face. “I don’t want to argue with you ever again. It… fuck, Mack, it felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and decided to stomp on it over and over.”
“I know. It felt the same for me. I just kept blaming myself non-stop. I knew it was my fault, and– mmph!” Mack’s words died on his tongue as Will slotted their lips together once more. It was a brief kiss, barely longer than five seconds, but it was effective. Mack blinked softly. “It wasn’t my fault?”
“No. It was just a misunderstanding. We gotta get better at communicating, both of us, okay?” Will said. He soothed a hand through Mack’s hair and Mack hummed softly, nuzzling into the touch. Sleepiness and want were warring in his heart, but he trusted that Will would make the best decision for him.
“Okay. I trust you. Take me to bed?”
❅❅❅
When Macklin woke up the next morning, he knew immediately that he was sick. His nose was stuffy, his throat ached something wicked, and each cough that forced itself passed his lips was rough and ragged.
“You too, huh?” Will said. He was leaning against the doorframe, his own sniffles echoing through the room, and Mack giggled. He sat up against the headboard and made grabby hands.
“C’mere, I want a kiss,” Mack said when Will raised an eyebrow at him. Will rolled his eyes fondly but pushed off the door frame and crossed the room. He crawled across the length of the bed in a way that made Mack’s gut twist pleasurably before the two were kissing, their too-warm breaths tangling together. “I love you,” Mack whispered, voice groggy and gross with sickness. Will chuckled fondly and nosed at Mack’s jaw.
“Think I might love you more.”