Chapter Text
They’d lost.
Two games into the new season and not a single win to their name. So much for the debut year Will had spent all summer imagining. This wasn’t how it was supposed to start.
The Sharks weren’t short on talent. On paper, they could skate against anyone. But hockey wasn’t played on paper. They were missing the chemistry and instinctive trust that teams like Vegas seemed to breathe. Every line change and pass a half-second late.
That’s how they found themselves now the entire team sat slumped around a table in the hotel bar, stewing over pints and cold truffle fries. The place was unnervingly quiet for a post–NHL game night. There was no music, just the low hum of the lights and the scrape of glass on wood. It was clawing at Will’s nerves. He started kicking Mack’s foot under the table until he looked up.
“We gotta get out of here,” Will muttered. “This is so depressing, dude.”
Mack tipped back the last of his illegally acquired beer, swallowed hard, and pushed to his feet. They offered the rest of the team tight smiles and shallow nods before slipping out the door as quickly as they could without making it too obvious they were escaping.
They’d made it two blocks down the street from the hotel when a group of girls invited them to join their friend's wedding after-party. The bar had been right around the corner, and no one had asked them for IDs. It was way too convenient to pass on.
Will bought the first round of drinks, which then meant Mack had to buy one back, and so forth. By the time that the bouncers started ushering people out the door, Will and Mack were practically falling on top of each other. Laughing, they made their way out of the bar and onto the street with the rest of the dispersing party. Somehow in the mess of their exit they ended up holding hands.
Neither of them said anything about it, and Will wasn’t about to bring it up in case Mack chickens out and stops. It was kind of nice, the feeling of someone’s hand in his, even if it was a guy’s.
Interrupting Will’s thoughts, two men came bursting out of the doors of a building on their right. The men were holding each other’s hands tightly and cheering.
“Woooooooo!”
The two of them were dressed in suits clutching a piece of paper, laughing and smiling as they walked away.
“Oh my god– Will, I think they just got married or something,” Mack whispers to him, eyes locked on the doors that the two guys had come out of.
The building was a small wooden chapel poorly decorated with Halloween decorations. The whole place looked sacrilegious; Will’s mom would’ve fainted if she’d seen it. He could just imagine her muttering something about how crucifying a skeleton was blasphemous of Jesus.
Will barely noticed that Mack had started in the direction of the chapel until he felt the pull by their connected hands.
“Mack– what?”
“Come on! When in Vegas and all that...?” Mack said, slurring his words slightly.
Will was about to laugh and drag him back the other way, but then Mack looked back at him with the dopey smile he did when he was drunk, and Will was lost for words.
The last thing he remebers is the back of Mack's head as he dragged him towards the chapel doors.
There was hair tickling his nose. The world came back to Will slowly as he lifted his head from where it was tucked into the back of Mack’s neck. His arms were wrapped around Mack’s chest, slightly sweaty from being pressed up against his bare skin.
Will’s head was pounding and his memory was still kind of hazy, but he’s pretty sure he and Mack went into a chapel last night. The internal panic stated to set in. He didn’t just marry his teammate, did he? He jolts away from Mack, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“Will?” Mack’s voice is groggy with sleep, his eyes half lidded as he looks up at Will.
“Hey.” That was probably the most awkward response ever, good job Will.
Then they both laid there in silence looking at each other. Mack's eyes were half-lidded, likely still getting used to his hangover. Mack’s the first one to get out of bed and it soon became more obvious that he remembered a little more than Will did because he passed him a piece of paper that had been sitting on his bedside table.
“Marriage certificate…”
“Fuck.” They’d actually done it.
“Yup.” Mack responds with his mouth in a straight line, looking at the ground instead of Will.
“Uh- what- do we get it annulled or something? You can do that right?” Will says quietly, looking up at Mack, searching his face for some kind of approval.
“Yah, but that’s probably a lot of work, right? And we’d have to tell somebody, because I have no idea where to start with that.”
“Right.”
“How about we just leave it for now?” Mack then continues. “It’s not like anyone knows, and next time I see my Dad, I can ask him how to reverse this, he’ll know.” Mack nods along to his own words, only looking up once to see Will nodding along with him.
They both know Mack’s not going to tell Rick about this. There is no way in Hell he would admit to his dad that he put his career on the line to marry Will, a guy, his teammate.
In a way, being married kind of makes sense, Will reasons. They already spend every second of every day with each other, and they’ve made plans to live together next year as well. Nothing’s really going to change, so what’s the fuss in trying to get the marriage reversed? Too much effort for basically no difference.
Will breaks the silence from where he’s sat up on the bed. “So…. breakfast then?”
“Yeah, I call the shower first.” Mack grins, clearly satisfied that the conversation is over.
He snatches the towel draped over the chair in the corner and bolts for the bathroom before Will can even open his mouth to argue. Will rolls his eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it. He reaches for his phone on the bedside table and starts his usual morning doom scroll while he waits, half paying attention to the sound of the shower running. He keeps an eye out for any mention of last night just in case some die-hard Sharks fan managed to snap an incriminating photo of them getting married, but the internet seems blissfully unaware. No blurry chapel shots on twitter so far.
About twenty minutes later, they’re both standing by the hotel room door, dressed and ready for breakfast.
“You ready?” Mack asks quietly, not quite meeting Will’s eyes.
They both know he’s not just talking about the food.
“We’ll be fine. Nothing’s changed,” Will says, softer than usual.
Mack’s shoulders are tight, his jaw set. Will exhales, then reaches out and threads their fingers together. Mack’s head snaps up in surprise, but Will is already opening the door and scanning the hallway. Clear. He tugs Mack out with him and steers them toward the elevator.
If he’s honest, Will wasn’t entirely sure he believed his own words, at least not until they stepped into the breakfast room. The Sharks’ buffet was spread out along one wall, and most of the guys had shaken off the loss from last night. The room hummed with the usual teasing and chirping.
Will and Mack slipped back into it without missing a beat, trading jokes, bumping shoulders, laughing along with everyone else like they always do. Right before they head out to catch the bus to the airport, Will glances across the room and catches Mack’s eyes.
There’s a smirk tugging at Mack’s mouth. Looking good, husband, he mouths silently, adding a wink for emphasis. And just like that, the knot in Will’s chest loosens.
Yeah. They’re going to be fine.