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"Mitchy, baby, you still awake?"
They had just landed in Milan for the Olympics, and finished all the media for the day. Auston had sent Mitch a quick text, asking him to meet him in his room in the Village. It was dangerous to be sneaking around like this. They did it every year, and it was a little thrilling.
Having to be extra careful and secretive while they messed around did something to Mitch, though he couldn't leave as many love bites on the other man like he usually does. It's not like they were sharing the locker room with their home team in the NHL, they were sharing the locker room with other players who are definitely not okay with, well, them.
Now, almost asleep in Auston's bed, curled up into his big chest with the Arizonian's big, strong arms wrapped around him, he didn't want to move. At all.
Mitch hummed into Auston's chest, smushed up into him, wanting to stay there forever and never leave. But eventually he would have to, some time.
"Honey, it's almost 8:00, you should go back to your room,"
Mitch whined and curled deeper, his fingers tensing on Auston's tatted side.
"Five more minutes?" Mitch peered up at the other man, trying to use his best 'puppy-dog-eyes'. "Please?"
Auston signed, tightening his arms around the Canadian, "Yeah, okay Mitchy, sure,"
Score.
He let himself relax into the arms of the other man, slowly falling asleep as Auston carded his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp.
Trying not to fall asleep was completely lost at this point. It was probably wasn't the best idea to sleep in Auston's room, but that was now a morning Mitch problem.
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The morning sun peered through the closed curtains in the window, coating the room in light. It woke Mitch up from his deep, comfortable sleep. God, what time was it?
Mitch opened his eyes, face to face with Auston's clothed chest. He slowly moved onto his back, the others arm now around his waist instead of the small of his back. Turning his head, he looked at the glowing numbers on the alarm clock, and—
OH FUCK!
"9:32!? Oh, SHIT!" Mitch exclaimed, quickly getting up from the bed, walking up Auston in the process.
"Wha—, Mouse? What are you.." Auston mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he propped himself up on his hands, blanket pooled at his waist.
"The team breakfast was at 9:15, Aus! I'm so so late," Mitch explained, quickly fixing his appearance in the mirror. His sweatpants were wrinkled, socks a little odd looking on his feet.
"Hmm, you should probably take off my hoodie then," Auston said, not moving from where he was laying on the bed, "and put on something that'll cover those," he pointed to his own neck.
Mitch flushed, "Yeah, thanks Papi, real helpful stuff,"
He quickly pulled off Auston's old USA hoodie from a few years ago, and pulled his own team Canada hoodie over his head.
"Hmm, you looked better in the other one," the American said, stretching his arms over his head while shamelessly looking at the other change.
"Pfft, that's only because it had your name on it, Aus,"
"Maybe,"
Pulling on his shoes, he quickly grabbed his phone and made it to door.
“You should just come back to bed, Mitchy, lemme show you a—“
Mitch cut him off, “I’ll see you tonight, big boy, keep it in your pants,”
Auston smiled, “Bye, baby,”
“Bye, Aus,”
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Making his way down to the lunch hall, he almost had a run in with another team USA player. Looking back, he should have just left last night, but, like, where the fun in that?
Opening the door, and walking into the room where the rest of his team members were, it felt oddly domestic. He looked around the room, and noticed Macklin waving him over. He smiled, walking over to his table with Sidney, Connor, and Brad Marchand. What a group.
“Hi, Mitch Marner— Mitch, sorry,” Macklin had met him a handful of times before, but it always confused Mitch on why he always addressed him like he wasn’t some superstar first-overall pick.
“Hey, Macklin,” he sat next to the boy, sitting his phone on the table.
“Why are you so late, Marns? Busy night?” Connor asked, head leaning on his hand with his arm propped up on the table. Lashes fluttering.
“What’s it to ya?” Mitch said, smiling as he glared at the other.
I hate you.
Macklin giggled, his gummy smile unstopped by his amusement at the conversation in front of him.
“Mr. Sidney Crosby was just talking about how—“
“Please, Macklin, just call me Sid,”
“I feel like the ‘Mr’ is right in this situation, Sid. You’re like 30 years older than the kid,” Brad said, snorting as he said it.
Macklin blushed in embarrassment, fixing the hood on his hoodie.
The conversation just unraveled from there, but then someone’s phone buzzing caught the attention of Mitch. He looked down at the table, a lit up screen caught his eye.
He leaned a little bit over to, well, he didn’t mean to snoop, it was just a reflex.
Smitty 🦈2️⃣💕
How did u sleep, baby?
Another text rolled in.
It’s like midnight here, I’m gonna go to bed
Text me in likeee 8 hours, love ya
Or call me
Macklin quickly snatched his phone away from Mitch’s prying eyes. The conversation in front of them stopped due to the young Olympians reaction.
Macklin looked at everyone at the table, realizing what he just did. “Sorry! Sorry, my bad. Nerves, sorry.”
“You’re all good, kid, don’t stress too much,” Connor offered, giving him a small smile.
“Yeah, we need you working properly on the ice,” Brad said, laughing at his own words.
The conversation returned to its normalcy, Macklin now solely focused on his phone.
Mitch now sat in his own comfortable silence, listening to the sound of his teammates talking around him as he quickly ate the food brought to him by one of the servers.
Macklin was glancing at him every few seconds, and then looking away when Mitch gave him a curious look. Great, just how he wanted to start off the next three weeks: The ‘baby shark’ acting weirdly around him because of well, him, and sneaking around with the team USA captain.
He’d give anything to be back in bed with Auston right about now.
⋆˙⟡ ⋆.˚ ⊹₊⟡ ⋆
Give anything was now an understatement. Mitch would now give everything to be with Auston. They had just finished up practice, which was, in all honesty, a brutal beating. The coach’s wanted them to play like they were actually in a game, so obviously, Mitch got bodied into the boards more times than he could count. At one point, the coach’s just pulled him off the ice to give him a break from the absolute beating he was getting from his own teammates.
Brutal.
Now, sitting in the locker room, with only a handful of players left, he had begun texting Auston. He was engrossed in his phone, only looking up when someone called his name.
“Mitch Ma—“ Macklin cut himself off. “Mitch?”
Mitch crossed his arms against his chest, his hoodie completely covering everything but his hands and a small portion of his neck.
“Can, could, could we talk?”
Mitch tilted his head, confused.
The locker room was empty at this point, they were the only two left.
“Yeah, sure kid, what’s up?”
Macklin took a deep breath in, “Listen, I don’t know what you saw on my phone this morning, but whatever you think you saw— it’s not what you think it is!”
Mitch looked at the boy, uncrossed his arms and put them into his hoodie pockets, “Mack,”
“I’m— I’m not g—“
“Mack.”
Macklin swallowed, “Yes?”
“I don’t care who you like,”
“..what?”
“Will is the one who texted you, right?” Mitch recalled the contact name.
“Yes,” Macklin said, voice small
“I don’t care who you date, boy or girl, it doesn’t matter to me,”
“S— wait, seriously?”
“It would be pretty hypocritical of me,” Mitch said, shrugging his shoulders,
“Oh, okay, um, okay, thank you,”
A moment passed.
“Wait, what? What do you mean hypocritical?”
Mitch turned to look at the younger boy, and smiled, “Auston Matthews?”
“Ho-LY! What!”
Mitch stood up from his stall, “Macklin, as long as your being safe—“
“Oh my god, okay, yeah, thanks,”
Mitch burst out laughing, “Yeah, sorry,”
“Had to hear that conversation so many times,” Macklin shuttered, groaning at the memory.
“Yeah?”
“Jumbo and Toff,” Macklin said, rolling his eyes.
Mitch sighed, smiling at the mention of the two hockey players, “Yeah, they seem the type,”
⋆˙⟡ ⋆.˚ ⊹₊⟡ ⋆
Walking back to his own room in the Village, Mitch felt the oncoming soreness of his body from practice. He walked up to the door, opening it with ease.
Well, something he wasn’t expecting was Auston Matthews sitting on his bed, shirtless. Not exactly an unwelcome-d sight.
“Hey, baby, how was your day?” Auston asked, looking up from his phone.
Mitch faceplanted into Auston, arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he smushed his face into the Americans neck, his favourite place.
“Practice was fine, muscles hurt though,”
Auston hummed, sympathetically as he dug the heal of his hand into the back of Mitch’s thigh. Mitch let out a small moan at the pressure, and yeah.
Auston could listen to that all night.
“Yeah? Anything else happen?”
Auston moved his hand to a different spot, earning another small noise out of the boy on top of him.
“Hmmm, remember Macklin? And Will?”
“Yeah, what about them? They okay?”
Mitch sunk deeper into Auston’s chest, enjoying the attention he was getting.
“Hmm yeah, they’re dating,”
“What!? Mitchy, seriously?” Auston asked, trying to process this new information.
Mitch hummed, “Yeah, oh, oh, right there, please, Aus,”
Three weeks of sneaking around wasn’t so bad, especially when Mitch gets moments like this after a long day.
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