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“Fuck!” Mack shouted, throwing his helmet in the direction of his stall, careless of anyone in the way. He stomped over and slumped down in his stall with an aggressive thud, his brows furrowed, and fists clenched.
It was one of those days.
He pulled his jersey off and tossed it right on top of his helmet, peeling his scent blocker off with it. His musky alpha scent of pine and sandalwood soured, burning wood stinking up the entire locker room. Goody scrunched his nose, grimacing, as his stall was right beside Mack’s.
The room went quiet, aside from the echo of the showers running in the other room and the occasional quiet chirp from Delly, a useless attempt to brighten the mood. It was an uncomfortable silence, ridiculous, even, as teammates—veterans—moved cautiously, awkwardly around the nineteen-year-old about to crash out, weary of his tantrums.
Ekky huffed, kicking his own skates off—too loudly, apparently, because that earned a death-eating glare from the auburn-haired alpha. The omega squinted at him, his own scent spiking up; Ekky’s usual sweet, milky scent turned rotten at the alpha’s gaze.
Toff jolted upright at the smell of a pack member in distress—an omega in distress. His own gaze snapped towards Ekky, then followed his eyes back to Mack.
“Stop it.” The older alpha scolded, lacking his usual bitter, protective aggression, though he was still tensed up with his brows furrowed. Mack was a pack member too—he was safe, Toff knew that. Ekky did too. But Toff’s instincts and the strong smell of an omega displeased and scared didn’t shake.
Mack turned his head to glare at Toff instead, sweat dripping down from his soaked mop of hair. He let out a low, quiet growl, his frustration unable to be contained.
“Macklin.” Toff snapped, “You’re bugging out, and it’s making everyone else uncomfortable,” he said, gesturing towards Misa, who was crowding himself into Dickie’s scent gland, the rookie’s own brows pushed together, his bottom lip torn.
“Maybe if we didn’t play like shit—” Mack started to snarl before a specific scent flowed through all the sour ones, the cinnamon sweet smell having his head snapping upward, cutting through his sentence. It was frantic, almost, him spinning his head around before his eyes landed on him.
Will stood right in front of the entrance to the showers, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist and a grimace on his face. The mix of scents spurring his thoughts, Will frowned before meeting Mack’s eyes.
In seconds, Will was standing before Mack, an anxious undertone in his scent shaking Mack out of his pissy mood. “Mack,” He said, reaching out to run a hand through his hair—and suddenly, nothing else mattered. Will was right here; his omega was in front of him, smelling as pleasantly sweet as usual, and he would take care of Mack.
“What?” Will asked, retracting his hand hesitantly, looking between the two alphas. “Did something happen?”
Mack growled at the loss just as Toff sighed, shaking his head. “Just—just take care of…that.” He muttered, backing away, rolling his eyes when Mack let out another growl. “Yeah, yeah.”
Will turned to Mack, looking down at where he sat in his stall, still dripping wet from his shower. “Mackie baby,” he mumbled, leaning down to bury his face in the alpha’s sweat-soaked hair before pulling back. “I could smell you from the other room.”
“Come here,” Mack grumbled, his hands wrapping around the omega’s waist, pulling him down to sit on Mack’s thighs, his hockey pants still on. Will yelped as Mack yanked him flush against his chest, shoving his face into Will’s neck, rubbing his nose along his scent gland, inhaling lungfuls of the cinnamon, honey-like scent.
“Jesus, Mack.” Will hissed, clutching the towel around his waist even tighter. He didn’t care what kind of mood Mack was in; he was not going to be naked on his alpha’s lap in the locker room—still flooded with teammates.
“Mmph.” He whimpered, licking a strip down his neck, his mating bite.
Any anxiety left in Will faded, leaving nothing but a fluttering heart and a violating heat creeping up his face, turning his cheeks a rosy flush. He giggled, content where he was seated.
“My baby,” he murmured, petting Mack’s hair. The alpha’s sour scent dissipated, and his usual woody, piney scent took over as the locker room regained its usual overly loud chaos.
Ekky groaned from where he stood across the room. “What the fuck, man!” he shouted, “Celly’s all ‘I’ll fucking kill you’ one second, and then the next he’s wrapped around you all gooey and—”
Will’s simple shrug was enough to cut Ekky off mid-sentence. He craned his neck, allowing Mack to indulge further in his scent.
Ekky sighed, rolling his eyes in the same manner Toff did, exasperated and done with the freshly mated couples’ bullshit. He grabbed his bag and shuffled out of the locker room.
Will took one of Mack’s hands in his and played with his fingers, waiting. As teammates started filing out, he felt a couple of lingering gazes on him. Looking up, he was met with sympathetic eyes from younger players and amused looks from older ones. He squirmed, pushing himself further back on Mack’s thighs, pressing into his groin.
When the population in the locker room had visibly lessened, only leaving a couple of teammates who pointedly minded their business, Will shifted on his lap, turning to press his lips against Mack’s temple.
“C’mon,” Will mumbled, shifting to move off of Mack, doused in the latter’s scent. “I want to go home.”
Mack let out a whine at Will’s retraction, followed by a growl when Will didn’t immediately fall back into his arms.
“Mack,” He huffed, crossing his arms, “I wanna go home and be in our nest,” he complained, “Just wear your clothes; we can shower together later.”
Pouting, Mack stood and shimmied out of his hockey pants, followed by his compression gear. Will trudged over to his own bag, and it was only a matter of minutes until they were both dressed.
“Mackie,” Will frowned at Mack, who was still sticky with sweat. His scent had soured once more—not as prominent as before, but enough to notice as his mate. Outstretching his arms toward the alpha, he smiled when Mack was wrapped in his embrace in less than a minute. “You okay?”
He stayed silent for a bit, his clothes sticking to his skin as Will’s hand ducked under his sweatshirt, pressing into the bare skin of his spine. “Played like shit.” Mack finally mumbled into Will’s shoulder.
“No, baby—you were amazing out there.” Will protested, “Mackie, you were seriously on fire; you always are.” his arms tightened around the alpha, his hand running up Mack’s back to cradle his head, burying him deeper into the calming pheromones Will was letting out.
Mack’s breath tickled Will’s chin in tiny little puffs before he finally spoke up, “We lost.”
Will’s brows furrowed, knitting together. “Mack, that’s not your fault,” he said, stern. “You can’t just…take the blame. It was a team effort, and we all lost, no matter who did what on the ice.”
Pulling back, Mack sighed, his eyes glassy and wet. Will’s frown deepened at the sight, his eyes widening. “Mackie, are you crying?” he asked, audible worry laced in the omega’s voice. “Baby, come here,” he said, pulling Mack back in, into his neck.
Mack’s body shook as he cried, snot and tears drenching Will’s hoodie. The locker room was entirely empty by then, aside from the occasional staff member hastily popping in to grab something. He ran his hand up and down Mack’s back in an attempt to soothe him—Will wasn’t sure how well it was working, considering the way Mack broke down further in his arms.
“My baby,” Will murmured. “My alpha,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek into Mack. “You’re perfect, so perfect, a perfect hockey player, mate, son, teammate, future captain—you’re the best, and everyone loves you so much, I love you so much.”
Mack’s arms slid around Will’s waist and pulled him closer. “M’sorry,” he apologized, wetly. “I don’t know…I can’t help but feel like a pathetic, sore loser.” Mack admitted, muffled into the soft cotton. “I just don’t like losing.”
Will physically winced at that. He didn’t like it when his mate talked down on himself. “I know, baby,” he caressed the alpha’s nape as he continued to nuzzle his face in Mack’s hair.
Eventually, when time felt infinite and his legs felt woozy, Will pressed a kiss to Mack’s hairline before mumbling out a slurred, sleepy “You wanna go home now, Mackie?”
Mack nodded meekly and pulled away, nosing against Will’s own nose. He rubbed at his eyes, the dried streaks leaving his skin even stickier. Will giggled as Mack grimaced.
“C’mon,” The omega said, reaching for his bag. “I really can’t stand this room.”
The alpha reached for his own bag, slinging it over his shoulder as a light smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, Willy, let’s go.”