Chapter Text
The first thing Will hears when he walks into the visiting team’s locker room at TD Garden is laughter.
Not just any laughter. Mack’s laughter. And another voice responding to him, lower, accented, amused.
Will freezes halfway through pulling off his jacket.
Across the room, sitting in front of Mack’s stall like he belongs there, is Igor Chernyshov, freshly recalled and flown into Boston from the San Jose Barracuda. His gear bag is open at his feet, and Mack sits squeezed onto the bench next to him, completely disregarding any rules about personal space. Mack’s shoulder is practically pressed against Chernyshov’s as he shows him something on his phone.
Will’s stomach drops.
“Oh my god,” Mack laughs. “You did not actually say that to Warso.”
Chernyshov shrugs with a crooked grin. “He ask why I miss meeting. I say—” His accent thickens dramatically. “—because Macklin make me late.”
Mack shoves him, laughing harder.
Will grips the strap of his bag so tightly his knuckles go white.
It’s been almost two months since Will got off IR. Two months since he finally got his place back next to Mack on the ice. Two months since things started feeling normal again.
Apparently that didn’t matter.
“Hey, Smitty!” Eky calls.
Will barely registers it. His eyes are locked on the way Mack leans in toward Chernyshov, still beaming. Like they have some kind of private joke. Like Will isn’t even there.
Will drops his bag into his stall harder than necessary. The noise echoes, and Mack glances up.
“Oh, hey, Will!” Mack’s smile softens automatically. “You’re early. I thought you were spending more time with your family today.”
Will was. Since arriving in Boston, Will and Mack have barely seen each other outside practices. Will has been catching up with his friends and family, and Mack has been all over the place with his own friends after attending the BU game with Toff last night. Mack didn’t even return to the hotel because he slept in the Terriers dorms with his old teammates, the way he always did.
Will and Mack were fine this morning. Mack was excited once he heard Cherny was recalled, but he was as sweet with Will as always, so Will tried not to feel too much about it. Will was the one Mack was dating now. Will was Mack’s linemate. Wherever Cherny played didn’t matter because this time Will would be here, too.
Will didn’t expect Mack to go out of his way to apparently welcome Cherny straight from the airport.
“Yeah.” Will doesn’t look at him. Instead, he starts getting ready with aggressive, jerky movements.
Beside Mack, Chernyshov stands and wanders over like he’s completely comfortable in this locker room he’s never been in before with a team he hasn’t played with in months. “Smith,” he greets casually. “Good to see you again.”
Will glances up. Cherny is taller than he remembers. Broad shoulders, messy dark blond hair, that stupid relaxed grin.
“Oh,” Will says flatly. “Welcome back.”
Chernyshov chuckles like it’s a joke. “I just got recall.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Will mutters, a little bitterly, earning him a small disapproving noise from Mack, but Will keeps going. “Didn’t know you were so directionally challenged that you needed a personal escort. What, you couldn’t take an Uber from the airport by yourself and so you had to get our team’s star player to pick you up?”
Chernyshov’s eyebrows shoot up, but before he can answer, Mack stands. “Okay, what is your problem?”
Will finally looks at him and immediately regrets it.
Because Mack only looks confused, not guilty or defensive at all. Like he genuinely has no idea why Will is acting like this.
“You,” Will says, pointing between Mack and Chernyshov, “played on the same line for like a month and the second he’s back, he’s glued to your side.”
Mack blinks. “We were linemates.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Will snaps.
Cherny lets out a quiet laugh. “Smith jealous?”
Will’s head whips toward him. “Shut the hell up. I don’t want to hear you speak right now.”
“Will,” Mack tries, stepping closer, but Will’s already spiraling.
“Funny how you never mentioned how close you guys got.”
Mack stares at him. “Close?”
“You literally missed a meeting because of him.”
“That was a joke!” Mack exclaims. “There was traffic on the way back from the airport, but we still got to the Garden with plenty of time for Cherny to convene with the coaching staff before the game. He’s not even playing tonight either, so it wasn’t a big deal. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Chernyshov snorts, and Will shoots him another glare.
Mack drags a hand down his face, mumbling, “Oh my god, you’re serious.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when he was practically leaning into your face five minutes ago,” Will accuses, his voice uncontrollably bitter.
Mack’s eyes widen. “That’s what this is about?”
“Yes!” The word comes out louder than Will intended, and the room is quiet in a way where it’s obvious their teammates are only pretending not to listen.
Mack stares at him for a long moment before bursting in quiet, startled laughter, not mean or incredulous, but awed and disbelieving. “Will,” he says, stepping closer again. “You realize you’re the one I’m dating, right?”
Will falters. “Yeah, but—”
“And you’re the one who literally shoved your way back onto my line the second you were cleared to play.”
“B-because it’s my spot,” Will mumbles, a little petulantly.
Mack grins indulgently. “Sure.”
Behind him, Chernyshov mutters something in Russian that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. Will scowls.
Mack lowers his voice. “You’re really jealous of Cherny?”
“I’m not jealous,” Will says immediately. Mack raises an eyebrow, and Will sighs. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Mack’s smile widens, and he leans closer, just enough that only Will can hear. “You know I spent that whole month complaining that you weren’t there, right?”
Will blinks. “What?”
“You’re a total nightmare to deal with when you get like this,” Mack continues casually. “But you’re my nightmare. And I always miss you when you’re not around.”
Will’s ears turn red.
Poking his head in from the hall, one of the equipment managers calls out, “Hey, Macky, Warso’s looking for you. Wants to go over something quickly before the game.”
Mack sighs and steps back, but before he leaves, he bumps his shoulder into Will’s, soft and familiar. “Just relax, okay? Cherny’s not stealing me.” He starts walking away then glances back with a teasing smile. “Pretty sure you’d fight him if he tried.”
Will watches him go then glances at Chernyshov, who is grinning at him, amused.
“I would win,” Chernyshov says, which—okay, yes, there’s not a single person in the world who would doubt that outcome, but still.
Will immediately pushes up his sleeve. “Want to test that?”
Chernyshov laughs. From around the corner and down the hall, they both hear Mack groan. “Jesus Christ, I leave for five seconds—”
But there’s a smile in his voice, and somehow that makes Will feel a lot better.