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When the final horn sounded, signaling a win for the USA, Will instantly felt his stomach drop.
Will Smith was a known patriot. He should have been proud. Hell, he should have been jumping around his living room screaming, or at least flooding his group chats with something to announce his joy. Instead, he just sat there in silence, staring blankly at the screen as the celebratory pile up formed on the ice. His thumb hovered over his phone, debating whether to message Mack. He wanted to. He just wasn't sure if Mack even wanted to hear from him right then, or if his name popping up on the screen would just feel like another reminder of the loss.
It felt even worse when the screen panned to Mack during the medal ceremony. The loud defeat written across his face gutted Will, making him want to be by his side as soon as possible. But he couldn't, not when they were miles apart, so he did the only thing he could think of to reach through the distance.
I’m so proud of you.
He wasn’t surprised when he didn't receive a reply, and he didn't push for one. He knew how Mack operated when the world got too loud. Mack was the type to lock himself inside his own head, pulling the shutters down until he could figure out how to carry the weight on his own. It sometimes suffocated Will with worry, but he's managed well over time.
So, when Mack finally arrived back in San Jose and turned up at his door, Will didn't demand an explanation. He didn't try to fill the quiet with nervous chatter; Will simply reached for him, doing the very thing he had wanted to do after the game. He stepped into Mack's space, wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders, and pulled him in. It was a quiet act to say I’ve got you, which he hoped was enough. Mack returned the hug immediately, which eased Will’s heart a little more.
He helped Mack with all his heavy luggage, hauling the gear bags inside without a word, and gently coaxed him into the kitchen.
Mack hadn't said a single word about anything at all since walking through the door. He didn’t protest when Will offered to let him eat, at least, that’s something; and Will could work on that. He just quietly tracked Will's movements around the room, letting Will guide him.
Will respected the silence completely. He knew that sometimes Mack didn't want comfort, or hollow promises that things would be fine. He just needed to be Mack. And he needed a space where he was allowed to be entirely empty without anyone expecting him to fill it.
That was what Will intended to give him.
Maybe tomorrow, or next week, or whenever Mack felt like it, they could talk about it. But tonight, as Will climbed under the covers and felt Mack immediately shift closer, he realized that this is all that matters.
The morning after, Will woke up to the harsh sun filtering aggressively through the slats of the blinds. He shifted on the mattress, reaching out a lazy hand to blindly shove Mack’s shoulder to tell him they were going to be late for morning practice if they didn't get a move on. Will would have let Mack sleep longer, but Warso would likely kick their asses for being late, especially after the losing streak they’d endured before the Olympic break.
His hand didn't hit the sharp, firm weight of Mack's shoulder. Which, weird. He couldn't feel the usual weight of a person beside him either.
Instead, it sank into something incredibly soft and distinctly fluffy. Also weird. Because he knew exactly what his blankets and pillows felt like, and this wasn't it.
Will’s eyes snapped open, the last remnants of sleep instantly evaporating from his brain.
Mack was not on the bed.
Instead, sitting smack in the middle of the rumpled pillow, was a golden retriever puppy sleeping. Its little pink tongue poking slightly from its mouth as it snored softly against the fabric.
"What the..." Will sat up, the duvet falling down to his waist. He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, but it didn't change anything. The puppy was still there, and Mack was still missing. He wasn't dreaming. He tried pinching himself, which had hurt, but it only solidified the reality of the situation.
"Mack?"
He leaned over the edge of the mattress to check the floor, thinking maybe Mack had rolled off in the middle of the night, but there was nothing down there except a discarded pile of Mack's hoodie, sweatpants, and socks. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand, his thumb flying across the screen as he typed out a frantic text asking Mack where he was.
Mack? Where are you?
Also, why is there a puppy beside me? Did you bring a dog here??
Mack did not answer and Will was starting to get worried.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. The text messages remained completely unread, sitting there with no three dot bubbles appearing. Will's stomach did a familiar twist. He clicked over to his contacts, bypassing his recent chats, and texted Jumbo to ask if he had seen Mack come home.
Hey Jumbo, did Mack come home last night? Or earlier this morning?
He got a reply after a minute.
No, kid. Though he did text me last night saying he's staying over at yours, so that was that.
Everything okay?
No, no, no, nothing is okay. Will stared at the glowing screen, his chest tightening until it felt difficult to take a full breath. He didn’t reply to Jumbo. Instead, he tried to call Toff.
"Hey, kibble," Toffoli answered, his voice groggy.
"Toff! Have you heard from Mack?" Will blurted out immediately.
"Oh, no, not yet. Haven’t you?"
"Shit."
The line went dead as Will accidentally disconnected the call in his panic. Toff messaged him after, asking what was going on. Will just apologized and explained what was happening, completely forgetting to mention the puppy. Toff reminded him to calm down. Will absolutely couldn't, but he tried to listen to him anyway.
Beside him, the puppy suddenly yelped, kind of terrified, making its existence known to Will. The little dog scrambled backward in a sudden panic, its uncoordinated puppy paws tripping over the folds of the tangled sheets until its fluffy rear hit the wooden headboard. Its chest was heaving, its little nose twitching rapidly as it looked around the space.
Will felt bad for the little pup, so he shifted a bit to make his presence known. It worked; the puppy sensed him, and his little flurry of panic stopped the moment his eyes locked onto Will.
The frantic trembling in his small legs ceased entirely. The puppy let out a low, tentative whine and then slowly, carefully began crawling forward across the duvet. He started nosing at Will's bare knee, his little tail beginning a rapid, rhythmic thump against the sheets.
"Okay, look, pup," Will muttered. "You’re cute, seriously."
Woof!
"But do you know... uh... where Mack is?" Sue him for asking a little pup about his best friend's whereabouts, but it didn't hurt to try.
And as if on cue, he received another Woof! Will rolled onto his back, lifted the pup up, and sat the puppy squarely on his chest. "Are you Mack’s puppy?"
Surprisingly, the puppy shook its head. It was kind of deliberate and calculated, which felt entirely too human and un-puppy-like.
Will froze. Look, he could admit that sometimes his ideas were dumb, especially when he was with Mack. He could practically feel all his remaining brain cells melting around the guy; it was something Dickie would call the Mack Effect before saying, Dude, you’re so obvious. He might be obvious or whatever but that didn't mean he was stupid!
So, Will started thinking properly. The clothes Mack had worn to bed were crumpled on the floor. Suddenly, there was a puppy beside him instead of Mack. The puppy clearly seemed to know Mack. He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the puppy’s face in the bright morning light. The puppy had a small scar right on his cheekbone. Which, great, because if he remembered correctly, Mack had one too, courtesy of the Olympics. Okay, maybe he was onto something, or maybe he wasn't, but it didn't hurt to check.
So he asked, with all the rationality he had left, "Mack?"
And the puppy nodded, yipped, and rolled over on his belly in agreement, wiggling against the mattress with his paws in the air.
Will stared up at the ceiling, let out a long, shaky breath, and rubbed his face with both hands.
"Well, fuck."
Their first stop was the vet. Once Will finally got over the shock of his new reality, which took checking multiple times and having a full, one sided conversation with Mack in his puppy form, he realized he needed to handle this properly. Will loved dogs, and taking care of a puppy wasn't anything new to him. But this was Mack. Will loved dogs, and well, he loved Mack in more ways than one, even if Mack was completely oblivious to that. Right. Anyway, it was going to be easy.
He was already running incredibly late for morning practice, and his phone was vibrating continuously in his pocket with texts from his teammates, probably Toff. But he couldn't just leave a newly transformed puppy Mack alone in the guesthouse to chew on the furniture or wander outside. He bundled puppy Mack into a thick team hoodie, tucked him securely under his arm, and drove out to a small vet clinic located on the absolute outskirts of town. Luckily, puppy Mack looked like he wasn't so much of a trouble in the mornings as a dog compared to when he was a human, but Will was never going to tell him that.
Thankfully, the clinic was practically empty, and he wasn't recognized by the vet. Will knew he couldn’t risk anything about puppy Mack being leaked to the media. It wasn't like someone would randomly spot a golden retriever puppy and say, "OMG that’s Macklin Celebrini!" But he was just being careful anyway. The vet, an elderly man, gently lifted the puppy onto the stainless steel examination table, where Mack immediately tried to bite the metal with his tiny puppy teeth. Yup, that was definitely Mack.
The vet gently turned the puppy's head, inspecting the side of his face. The scar was cleaned, and Will was given instructions on how to tend to it daily with a small tube of antibiotic ointment.
"It’s healing beautifully," the vet said, patting Mack’s fluffy head. "Just apply a small dab of ointment once a day so it doesn't get irritated. He’s a healthy young boy."
Once out of the clinic, Will didn't go straight to the rink just yet. He hit the nearest pet store instead, navigating the wide aisles trying to think of what puppy Mack needed. Since he planned to bring Mack to the rink with him, he needed to stock up on the necessities. He stood in the middle of the store throwing items into his cart, grabbing a bag of puppy kibble, a small bottle of shampoo, a blue leash, and a pack of adjustable training diapers. It was an absurd shopping list compared to his typical morning, but as long as it kept Mack safe and comfortable, Will didn’t care how ridiculous he looked pushing it to the counter.
Will drove through the player gate, parked his car, and brought puppy Mack through the back doors of the rink. He kept the puppy tucked against his chest, the blue leash dangling from his fingers, as he walked into the carpeted hallway of the locker room lounge to figure out how to explain the situation. Usually, he’d do this with human Mack, with Mack bluntly telling him to keep up with his walking or gently bumping their shoulders together and pushing him against the wall. Will couldn’t help but scratch the little pup’s floppy ear.
"Smitty, what the hell is that?" Eky asked the moment Will entered the locker room. "Did you get a dog? Why didn't you text the group chat? And where’s Mack?"
"It’s Mack," Will said, with the most serious voice he can.
"You named your dog after Mack?" Dickie asked, poking his head out from his stall. Beside him, Misa started laughing.
"No," Will glared at him, holding the puppy up to eye level so they could see the stubborn stare the dog was giving them. "This is Mack. Macklin Celebrini. He turned into a dog this morning, or maybe last night. I don't really know, honestly."
With that, half of the locker room burst out laughing. Will couldn't really blame them. But puppy Mack seemed to think otherwise and let out a sharp bark. Woof!
"Are you sure?" Wenny asked, his expression turning serious.
"Yup," Will replied. "You guys need to believe me."
Woof!
"Damn. I heard it happened before, but this is my first time actually seeing it. So that’s really Mack, huh?" Wenny muttered, staring at the golden puppy.
"Wait, it happened before?" Will and Misa asked at the exact same time.
"Yeah, it happened to Jamie back in Dallas, it was a different animal though" Klinger added, leaning back against his stall.
So, basically, from what Will gathered, this was a stress thing. Mack turning into a puppy was a defense mechanism. Mack’s body had simply reached its absolute limit after the tournament, and this was its way of forcing him to rest.
"Don't worry, Smitty," Toff said, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Yeah, he'll turn back soon. He just needs this right now." Delly added.
Will carried puppy Mack down the hall to have a talk with Warso. They sat in the office, with puppy Mack perched precariously on Will's lap, sniffing at a cup of pens on the desk. After a lengthy conversation where Warso just stared at the dog and accepted sooner than expected that it really was Mack, they decided that Mack would be announced as day-to-day, considering they had a massive home game in a few days. It was the safest option, just to be sure in case he hadn't turned back human by the time the game arrived.
So, they did their drills. Will skated his laps just like he normally would, except Mack wasn’t on the ice with him. Instead, puppy Mack sat on the bench, watching and occasionally barking at them.
During the break, the atmosphere in the locker room softened considerably. The initial shock and skepticism melted away into collective adoration, and before long, the guys crowded around the bench where Mack was nested on a mountain of white team towels, looking entirely like a spoiled prince.
But Macklin Celebrini, even in a fluffy, puppy form, couldn't stay away from the rink to save his dear life.
While the team was busy chatting and stretching, the puppy quietly scrambled down and slipped right through a slightly unlatched door. Without a shred of hesitation, he hopped right onto the slick, frozen surface.
The guys on the bench didn't even try to stop him at first. They all just watched with fond smiles; nobody wanted to deal with a sad, moody puppy after denying him ice time, especially since everyone knew how miserable Mack got when he was forced to sit out.
Will, however, felt his chest tighten with worry the moment he noticed Mack had slipped out from the locker room, knowing full well what the puppy was up to. Ice and uncoordinated puppy paws were a recipe for disaster, and his heart was already in his throat as he watched Mack stride out.
His fears were realized a second later. Mack took three incredibly confident puppy steps, clearly intending to skate. Instead, his paws immediately slid in four completely opposite directions. Unable to catch his traction, he did a dramatic, full body chin slide, his little body sliding across the ice as he let out a thoroughly confused grunt.
"Mack!" Will called out, panic flaring in his chest.
Will rushed onto the ice, his eyes wide with concern as he took in the sight of the little golden pup looking utterly bewildered on his side. Will dropped gently to his knees right beside him, completely focused on making sure he was okay.
He carefully scooped Mack into his arms, lifting him securely against his chest. "Are you okay? Did you hurt your paws?" Will asked, his voice laced with worry as he checked him over.
From the bench, Woody, who had watched the whole thing happen, called out, "Easy, Kibble. He’ll live!"
Will didn’t mind the teasing. The ice was freezing and Mack was stuck in a tiny puppy body right now; how could he not worry?
Mack, sensing his distress, just let out a small bark and gave his chin a reassuring lick. Yeah, this was going to be easy… right?
Will was completely exhausted.
The combined weight of the day's physical drain and emotional toll finally washed over him the moment he slipped under the covers. Beside him, Mack was already sleeping soundly, completely knocked out from their activities earlier. Will stared at him for a quiet second, watching the tiny golden shape rise and fall with every slow, even breath. It was incredibly endearing. He reached down and gently scratched behind the puppy's floppy ears, smiling faintly when they gave a tiny, subconscious twitch in his sleep.
Yet, the stillness of the bedroom felt heavy, echoing in a way it never did when things were normal. Will knew he was being stupid; Mack was right here, right next to him, just in a different body, but he still felt a bit miserable. He knew the most important thing was that Mack was safe and finally getting a break. Still, his selfish mind couldn't quite reconcile the reality. He missed actually talking to his best friend. He missed the casual rumble of Mack’s real voice cutting through the quiet room, responding to whatever dumb thought Will threw out into the dark. He missed the way Mack would take up way too much room on the mattress, sprawling out with zero awareness of the bed’s boundaries and occasionally shoving an elbow or a foot into Will’s side. There was a grounding comfort in that annoyance, the familiarity of having Mack beside him. Now, Will was left entirely to his own thoughts, with no Mack to hold him down.
He woke up a few hours later to a wet tongue licking his face and sharp little yips cutting through the dark room. Will blinked his eyes open, realizing it was past dinner time. He dragged himself into the kitchen, his arms and legs feeling like lead, and ate a quick meal before pouring Mack's puppy kibble into a small ceramic bowl.
After that, they went straight back to bed. This time, though, Mack didn't stay on his side of the mattress. The puppy scrambled right up onto Will's chest, curling into a warm little ball right over his heart. Will wrapped his arms securely around the soft fur, closing his eyes and just listening to the steady rhythm of the puppy’s breathing.
Will really, really missed Mack right now.
By Will’s second day with puppy Mack, it became clear that waking him up in the morning was just as brutal as waking up the human version. Will had to gently shake him by the scruff, poke his little ribs, and physically roll his body over three times before the pup even bothered to crack a single eye open. He eventually let out a grumpy huff and a long yawn, looking thoroughly annoyed that morning practice was a non negotiable part of their schedule.
Once they arrived at the rink, Mack resumed his post as the team’s unofficial consultant. He sat firmly on top of an overturned crate on the bench, his eyes tracking the puck with focus. Every time someone missed a pass or blew a defensive assignment, a highly judgmental bark would echo across the quiet arena.
He even heard Cherny mutter, "That's so Mack," before skating away. Despite the frustration of the drill, a small smile touched Will's lips. Mack's attitude was completely unchanged despite the puppy transformation.
Eventually, Will decided Mack had suffered enough from just watching. He skated over to the bench, carefully scooped the puppy up, and brought him back out onto the ice. This time, Will kept a steady grip under Mack’s front legs, guiding his tiny paws along the ice so he wouldn't do another full body face plant. Later on, puppy Mack finally managed to gain some coordination on the ice. A few of the guys joined in on his ice time, abandoning their formal practice with a nod of approval from Warso, who simply looked defeated by the whole situation. Zack would lightly toss a puck, letting the pup chase the black disk across the rink. Mack’s ears flopped wildly as he lunged for it, clearly thrilled to be part of the play, while Will skated right beside him. Puppy Mack seemed to beam the entire time they were out there. Will suddenly regretted not filming a video of the moment.
In the locker room afterward, Toff walked over while unlacing his skates. "You told his parents about this yet?"
Will glanced down at the puppy, who was currently playing with Mukh and Graf on the carpet. Mack was growling softly, shaking a discarded piece of black hockey tape with all his might.
"No," Will said, shaking his head. He watched the puppy’s aggressive tug of war for a second. "I don’t think telling his dad would help right now."
Toff nodded understandingly, giving Will’s shoulder a supportive pat. "I get it." He then asked if the Marleaus knew yet. Will confirmed he’d texted Patty for permission to keep Mack in the guesthouse. Patty had been completely fine with it and wasn’t shocked at all; apparently, he had witnessed something similar during his time with the Leafs when Marner had once turned into a mouse.
Since practice ended early, the guys decided to crash at Will’s place. Saying they weren't about to miss out on the entertainment.
"We have to take advantage of this," Goody joked, watching Mack trot across the rug. "He’s actually an innocent and cute puppy right now.”
“Yeah, we need to enjoy it before he turns back into the usual brat he is," Eky added from a distance.
Puppy Mack clearly heard that. He spun around on a dime, his little ears flattening against his head, and lunged forward to nip at Eky’s toes.
"Ow! Holy shit, he bit me!" Eky yelped, hopping around the kitchen island on one foot while clutching his toe. The rest of the guys erupted into laughter at the sight.
Will laughed along, the sound bright and loud in the crowded room. It felt good. Mack was finally having time for himself, completely carefree and free of any burden. Will found himself wishing this lightness would stay with Mack even after he turned back. He realized he couldn't wait for Mack to return to his usual, human, bratty self again, despite acting annoyed by it sometimes. He wanted the snarky comments back. He just wanted his best friend in front of him again.
Later that night, Will booted up the ipad to cue up 27 Dresses. Puppy Mack scrambled up onto the mattress and sat perfectly upright next to Will, his eyes glued to the screen just like he always did. Even in this tiny form, his watching habits surely didn't waver. Whenever a scene came on that he clearly disapproved of, whether it was a cliche romantic gesture or a cheesy line, Mack would let out a highly opinionated bark, as if giving a review of the plot.
Will couldn't help but chuckle, leaning back against the pillows. But as the movie hit the halfway mark, the barks grew softer, turning into quiet, sleepy huffs. Before the main characters even made it to the final wedding, Mack’s eyelids gave out. He slid downward, curling into a ball right against Will's side, completely out like a light before the credits could even roll.
When the third day arrived, Will woke up to a weight that was far more uncomfortable than it had been the night before.
He choked out a breath, the morning air catching in his chest as he struggled to actually breathe. Will blinked as the morning light flooded the room, his brain slowly registering that the light puppy he’d fallen asleep with was gone. In its place was something much heavier and undeniably human.
That was Mack. Yup just Mack. Holy shit, it’s Mack!
A massive tangle of dark, unbrushed hair was buried directly into the slope of Will’s shoulder. Mack's leg was thrown carelessly over his waist, pinning him flat to the mattress like a human weighted blanket. The snoring was different, too; it was deeper, vibrating with a low rumble right against Will’s collarbone. It was distinctly Mack.
A wave of relief so massive washed over Will that he felt almost dizzy. He didn't even wait for Mack to wake up on his own; knowing him, he’d sleep right through the alarm and beg for five more minutes. Instead, Will just reached out, found a patch of skin on Mack’s bare upper arm, and gave him a hard pinch.
Mack rolled over with a heavy groan, dropping onto his own side of the mattress and taking most of the duvet with him.
"Mack, wake up!" Will shouted, propping himself up on one elbow.
"Ugh," Mack groaned, his voice still gravelly with sleep. He dug his face deeper into the pillow, pulling the sheet over his ears. "Puppies don't need to get up early," he mumbled, his words slurred as he tried to drift back off.
It was cute. So fucking cute that it made Will let out a short, breathless giggle. "That’s true, bud. But you’re not a puppy right now."
Will would take human Mack over puppy Mack any day, and the sight in front of him was all the proof he needed.
There was a long, silent pause. Then, Mack cracked one eye open. He slowly lifted his hands, staring at his own long, calloused fingers and broad wrists. He glanced down the length of the bed at his own legs sticking out from under the covers. The realization hit him instantly, and he sat up abruptly.
"Holy shit."
"Uh huh," Will said. He just stared, his face softening at the edges.
"Ugh, I was really looking forward to lazing around all day," Mack complained, running a hand through his messy hair and rubbing his eyes. He sighed, his gaze landing on the dresser where a box of training diapers was still sitting in plain view. He seemed to brace himself, clearly expecting Will to chirp him for it. Like, it was honestly embarrassing to think about the fact that he'd been wearing diapers, eating kibble, and dealing with all that shit.
But when he looked back, Will wasn't laughing. He looked troubled, instead.
"Smitty?" Mack asked, his voice losing its edge.
Will simply shook his head, his hand reaching out across the short distance between them. "Don't ever do that again."
"You mean, turning into a puppy?" Mack asked, tilting his head slightly. "I mean, I didn't exactly do it on purpose, bud."
"I know," Will said softly. "I know you didn't."
Will’s hand was steady as he cupped Mack’s face, his palm resting against the warm skin of his jaw. His thumb moved upward, sliding over the sharp edge of Mack’s cheekbone, carefully tracing the faint line of the scar he’d brought home from the Olympics. It was healed now, smooth under Will’s touch, but it remained a permanent reminder of the precursor to this whole scenario.
"But if you’re feeling that stressed, you can always talk to me," Will said as his eyes locked onto Mack’s, his thumb continuing its slow, comforting stroke over the scar. "I can share the burden so this doesn't have to happen again. You don't have to carry everything, Mackie. I’m here. I’m always here."
Mack stared at him, the usual sarcasm dying out as he felt the solid, warm pressure of Will’s hand. He saw the slight redness in Will’s eyes and realized just how much his absence had weighed on him. "You were really worried about me, huh?"
Will’s face instantly flushed a bright, vivid red. His ears burned as he gave Mack’s cheek a playful, defensive push. "Dude. Of course I was! I had to carry you around the rink like a purse or something, Mack!"
"I know. Thanks, Smitty," Mack said softly, his grin widening as he caught Will’s wrist, keeping his hand close for a second longer.
"Uh... I think you need to get some clothes on first," Will said, clearing his throat and trying to find his usual footing before he could blurt out some confession. "Since, you know, puppies don't wear them, but humans generally have to.”
"Oh, right." Mack didn't move an inch, though. He stayed right there in Will’s space, leaning forward slightly with a familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes. "Or, if I’m reading this right... you could kiss me first?"
Will didn't hesitate; he kicked him hard under the covers, earning a loud, booming laugh from Mack that echoed off the room. He missed that laugh.
They kissed after Mack was dressed, anyway. And they kissed plenty more in the days that followed.