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“I’m calling Connor, he’ll settle this,” Mack says and he turns away from Will, picking up his phone and swiftly navigating to Connor’s contact. “Warning, though, he’s going to take my side.”
“Of course, he will! Not only are you two friends, he’s a fellow Canadian,” Will grumbles. He sinks down further into the bed, pillows puffing up around him, and Mack momentarily abandons his phone in favour of leaning down and slotting their mouths together. Will hums into the kiss, any fight in him melting in a millisecond, before Mack pulls away. He isn’t surprised by the glare Will gives him.
“He might surprise me yet,” Mack says with a shrug. He doesn’t believe himself for even one second, but he’s trying to placate Will. It doesn’t seem to work, much like Mack anticipated. He pulls his phone up to his face once more and hits call on Connor’s already loaded contact. It rings for a few moments and Mack’s pretty sure he isn’t going to respond, when the dial tone cuts off and Connor’s voice sounds out, groggy and half-asleep.
“Mack? What’s up?” Connor questions without hesitation. Mack shoots Will a beaming smile before he focuses on the phone call once more.
“Me and Will were arguing about something, and we need you to be the deciding figure,” Mack says. Will pinches his skin, and Mack hisses, hip tweaking to one side as it smarts. There’s a faint voice on the other end of the line, accent unfamiliar and words indiscernible, and Mack feels bad. “Oh, sorry, is now a bad time?”
“Nah, nah, you’re fine. Just give me a sec,” Connor says before he mutters something to the other presence near him. It takes a few seconds that Mack refuses to interrupt before Connor returns. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Are you sure you can talk right now? It’s not really that important, I’d hate to distract you from what you’re doing,” Mack says. Will shoots him a reassuring smile that settles some of the more agitatedly anxious nerves sweeping through Mack’s body, but it’s not enough.
“Cow’s in my bed, that’s all,” Connor says and like… did Mack just hear that correctly? Connor has a cow in his bed? What the fuck? He pulls an odd face, prompting Will to mouth a quick ‘what’ at him. Mack dismisses him with a brief shake of his head and a held-up hand. Connor’s voice cuts through his confusion again. “He’s fine though, just half asleep and wondering why I left. You said something about you and Will having an argument?”
“Yeah, it’s, um, it’s not serious. Just… what’s better in milk and cookies – the milk or the cookies?” Mack asks. Will mouths ‘milk’ at him again, just to be a little shit, and Mack swats at his shoulder.
“What? Dude,” Connor laughs. Mack giggles too, but it’s half-formed, his brain still too distracted with the fact that Connor supposedly has a fucking cow in his bed. Like seriously, how is he supposed to not question that?!
“Just answer the question, and quick. I’ve got something else I need to pick your mind about,” Mack says. Will furrows his eyebrows at him, but Mack ignores him again. He’s not sure he’s ever ignored Will this much before and oddly enough, he’s finding it a little bit fun, watching the way Will squirms and shuffles closer, trying to get Mack’s attention.
Mack thinks he might be a bit sadistic. Or maybe he’s just fully insane. Either or.
“You two never fail to amuse me, but I gotta say cookies,” Connor says. Mack lets out a sharp ‘hah’ that alerts Will to Connor’s answer. He groans and flops back against the bed again, head half hanging off the mattress. Mack places his hand atop Will’s knee, soothing the skin back and forth before he can really stop himself or think about what he’s doing. Will doesn’t say anything.
“Okay great. This, um,” Mack chews his lower lip as he tries to word what he wants to say. Will sits up at Mack’s ‘um’, shifting slightly so he can rest his weight on his elbows and fix Mack a worried look. ‘You good?’ he mouths, and Mack merely shakes his head in response. How does he say this? “The situation in your bed… what?”
“Ah, yeah, that. It’s, like, a new thing,” Connor says. Mack can practically hear the blush that’s lining Connor’s face and he’s not sure whether to be disturbed or sick. Maybe both. “You’re coming over for lunch tomorrow, right? You can meet him then if you want.”
“Uh,” Mack says dumbly. He blinks owlishly at Will, non-verbally begging for help, but Will’s no use. He’s not been wired into the conversation this entire time like Mack has. “Sure, yeah. Will’s still alright to join us, yeah?”
“Duh. It’s only fair,” Connor says. Mack smiles despite the riot of emotions within him. “Okay, dude, I gotta go now, but I’ll see you tomorrow. Still coming at eleven?”
“Yep. See you then,” Mack says. He goes through the rest of the goodbyes before he’s hanging up and dropping his phone into his lap. He meets Will’s gaze and heaves a deep breath. “What the fuck did I just hear?”
“What happened?” Will says. He sits up properly, allowing Mack to wedge himself between the v of his thighs. “Did Connor say something weird?” Mack huffs and retells the entire call, emphasising the fact that, for some fucking reason, there’s a cow in Connor’s bed.
“Like… what is going to greet us tomorrow?” Mack says. Will is shaking with laughter, the sound peeling out of him louder than it has any right to. Mack wants to grab him and shake him, but the situation is kind of funny.
“Only your fucking friends, dude,” Will spits out and Mack huffs and grumbles, but it’s true. He’s weird, makes sense he’s friends with other weird people. But this level of weird… yeah, no, Mack’s not sure he can excuse that.
~
“What’s Mack wanting at this hour?” Easton grumbles. There’s a trace of insecurity in his voice and Connor understands, he does, he just wishes his boyfriend would realise he’s head over heels in love with him already. If he wanted Mack, he would’ve had plenty of time to take that route, and he hasn’t, therefore Easton’s jealousy doesn’t have any solid footholds.
“Just him and Will arguing about something and needing my opinion. You still sure you wanna meet them as my boyfriend tomorrow?” Connor asks. He’s peering down at Easton, taking in the flicky halo of hair underneath him, and the splay of lashes that occasionally beat down to grace his bruised cheek. He’s beautiful, distractingly so. Connor would be mad if he wasn’t so happy and in love.
“Yeah,” Easton says before he yawns, and that’s Connor’s cue to plug his phone back on charge and turn the lamp off, slipping under the sheets once more. Easton immediately attaches himself to Connor’s side, sighing peacefully once Connor’s arms wrap around him in response. “Love you.”
Connor smiles, letting the darkness swallow it up. “Love you too, cowboy.”
~
Mack knocks on the door, rocking back and forth on his heels as he tries to dispel some anxious energy. Will’s hand is firmly in his, but it’s not enough. He’s buzzing and electric and nervous. Why he’s nervous, he isn’t sure, but he remembers the phone call from the night before, the confusion and hours-long discussion that followed with Will, and he blames that.
Who is he kidding? It’s definitely that.
The door swings open before Mack can mull on it any longer, and Connor welcomes them in, a soft smile on his face. “Hey. Sorry if it’s a mess, I got distracted last night,” Connor says and it’s the same awkward tone Mack has familiarised himself with, but there’s something else. The blush on Connor’s face is more than confirmation of that.
“With the cow?” Will mutters, voice hitching at the end in a way Mack knows to mean Will is holding back laughter. Connor’s blush intensifies and Mack actually wants to scream because he feels like he’s missing something, and he’s not sure what, and he’s actually starting to itch about it.
“Yeah. He’s a menace,” Connor says. He looks towards the stairs like he’s longing, and yeah, Mack needs to shut this shit down, and fast.
“Okay, I think there’s some misunderstanding going on here,” Mack says. Connor turns back to face him, eyebrows furrowed. Mack looks to Will for encouragement, getting a squeeze of the hand in response. It’s enough. “Who, or what, is cow?”
“Oh…” Connor says. He scuffs a foot along the floor, eyes fixed down. Mack feels bad, never likes upsetting a friend, especially not someone like Connor, but sue him, he’s confused. “Shall I go get him? He’s probably playing a game or something.”
“You know what? Sure,” Will says. He squeezes Mack’s hand, differently this time, a command to shut the fuck up, so Mack bites his lower lip and watches Connor make his way up the stairs, steps careful.
When he’s gone, Mack turns to Will. “Seriously, what is going on? Why did Connor say he had a cow in his fucking bed, and why are we about to actually meet livestock that’s coming down from Connor’s bedroom?” Mack is positive he’s never been more fucking baffled in his entire life. Will looks just as bewildered, eyes swirling with it. He goes to speak when the footsteps on the stairs start again, doubled this time, and they both shut up, turning to look out of the kitchen doorway.
Mercifully, it seems like a human is following Connor down the stairs, and when Mack sees the person’s face, he almost splutters, mouth frothy with spit. “Cowan?!” Mack says and oh. He gets it now. There wasn’t a cow in Connor’s bed, Cowan was in Connor’s bed.
“Hi,” Easton greets and he’s smiling sheepishly, fingers tangled in the strings of his hoodie. His hair is ruffled, clothes too, and Mack theorises that he’s probably only just woken up. It’s all but confirmed when Connor pulls him in and gently wipes at his eyes.
“He overslept, the dummy,” Connor says. He looks fond as Easton nuzzles into his side, and Mack is glad, actually. Glad that this is the outcome of cow’s in my bed, glad that Connor has found someone, and glad that one of his strongest friendships isn’t going to have to end over something so out of nowhere, so unexpected.
“I’m happy for you. We both are,” Will says and oh yeah, Mack hasn’t really said anything since he blurted out Easton’s surname, words dripping with shock. Connor’s probably freaking out internally, and Mack feels like a shit friend. Will gently squeezes his hand encouragingly and Mack smiles, nodding his head in brief greeting.
“Unexpected from you, Connor, but I’m glad you’ve got someone,” Mack says. And he means that, of course he does, he just wishes it hadn’t involved a bunch of mess to find out. Why couldn’t Connor have just told him this? Actually… “Since when?”
“Since the start of my injury, actually,” Connor says, ducking his head as a blush coats his cheeks, and woah. That’s longer than Mack had expected. He says as much, receiving a laugh from Easton and a playful glare from Connor in response. “We haven’t really said anything because it’s still so new. But I trust you two, so…”
“I just want Connor happy. If that means he tells you, then so be it,” Easton says with a shrug, like it’s the easier thing in the world. He’s still in Connor’s arms, body slumped slightly so he isn’t taller than Connor for once, and he’s got one eye open as he smiles softly.
“Thank you for trusting us,” Will says and again, that’s a good response. Mack’s brain is too frazzled to really form… anything, so he’s glad Will’s with him. Isn’t sure he would’ve been able to handle this all on his own. Especially not with the preconceived notions he had going into this hangout. He swallows down the embarrassment and shoots Connor another smile.
“So, what’s for lunch?”
~
“Did Mack seem off to you today?” Easton questions. He’s sat cross-legged on Connor’s couch, clad in a 98 Blackhawks jersey that shouldn’t feel so fun to wear. It’s like his little secret, his little guilty pleasure. He still thinks blue suits him (and Connor) better, but red… maybe it’s not so bad. Especially not when it’s sitting prettily on Connor’s cheekbones thanks to Easton’s dogged, half-failed attempts at flirting.
“Dude, he thought you were an actual cow. Him and Will both,” Connor says with a snort. He slumps next to Easton, holding out the spare bottle of Gatorade he got as he peers up at Easton through his lashes. “Those motherfuckers don’t know how to talk quietly, and also Mack’s just an idiot.”
“That’s not nice,” Easton says. Connor rolls his eyes at him and Easton launches the bottle to one side before he’s clambering into Connor’s personal space, pinning him against the couch, fingers digging into his sides. Connor’s own drink bottle falls to the ground as he giggles and squirms. Easton can’t help but smile along, shot after shot of serotonin rushing through him. He realises something in that moment and can only help but laugh breathlessly.
He’s never loved anyone more than he loves Connor Bedard.