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What were Mack's growing pains? They were waking up in the middle of the night during his growth spurt, tormented by aching knees. He’d secretly pop painkillers, curled up under the covers, wiping away tears while hating himself for being so weak, unable to even handle something so minor. The next day, exhausted from lack of sleep, he’d blow several pucks during practice. Before Rick’s criticism even came, Mack was already drowning in self-reflection and extra practice. After everyone else had left, Mack was still doing suicide sprints on the ice. Rick stood on the sidelines with his arms crossed, watched for a moment, and then walked away. The arena fell completely silent, leaving only the sound of steel blades scraping against the ice. For the first time, Mack realized how deafeningly quiet the rink could be—so quiet that he didn't have a single person to talk to.
A few days later, during a game, they ran into Will again. While putting on his knee pads, Mack couldn't help but wonder: Everyone goes through growing pains, right? Did Will go through this too? How did he get through it? During the faceoff, the two stood face-to-face. Mack’s gaze locked onto Will’s shin guards, staring so hard he felt like he could burn a hole through the fabric. Following Mack’s line of sight to his own knee, Will asked tentatively, "Are my shin guards on backwards? Why are you staring at me?" Mack snapped out of his daze and quickly looked away.
After the game, Mack DM'd Will: How bad does the pain have to be before you take painkillers? Staring at the sent message, Mack thought to himself that he was just asking an older, more experienced player for advice. It wasn't weird (even if they were opponents). The exact second the message changed to "Read," Will’s phone call came through, startling Mack. As soon as he answered, Will immediately asked, "Why are you asking that? Are you hurt? Is it your knee? If anything is wrong, you have to tell your family or your coach!"
Mack rarely heard words like that. He froze for two seconds before saying, "My knees just hurt so much. I looked it up online, and it's because I'm growing. Everyone goes through this, right? But nobody whines about it... I just don't know what to do."
Will replied, "Everyone's different. Some people are in a lot of pain, some barely feel it. I was bothered by it too, but I have a few tricks you can try." Will rambled on over the phone. Mack was a bit overwhelmed and wasn't sure he remembered everything, but shortly after hanging up, Will sent a DM with everything he’d just said, neatly organized.
At the next game, Will cornered Mack in the safety tunnel afterward and shoved a plush hot water bottle into his hands. "The ice is cold, and it's bad for your knee joints. Remember to apply heat regularly." So, applying heat became another part of Mack's nightly bedtime routine.
There were still nights when the pain kept Mack tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He’d open his phone to find a distraction and see that Will was online too. Tentatively, he sent a funny video, which was met with another funny video in return. His knees still ached, but Mack didn't feel quite so alone anymore. Will asked why he was still up. Mack replied that his knees still hurt and there was nothing he could do. Will chirped, "You guys are gonna get slaughtered by us tomorrow, then." Mack sent a rolling-eyes emoji, basically saying, We don't even need to try hard to kick your asses.
That’s how they grew closer. Will’s knee pain hadn't flared up in a long time, but Mack’s was getting worse. His TOI hadn't changed much, but Will could tell Mack's movements on the ice were becoming stiffer and more labored. After BC beat BU three times in a row, Will skipped the post-game party and took an Uber to BU to find Mack.
Standing outside Mack’s hotel room door, Will was just wondering if he’d been too reckless when he suddenly heard muffled sobbing through the wood. All hesitation vanished. He knocked, but got no response. He knocked a second time, a third time. Only on the fifth knock did Mack clear his throat and croak, "Leave me alone."
Will knew he couldn't just walk away. He turned the handle and stepped inside—the door wasn't even locked. Hearing the noise, Mack poked his head out from under the covers like a startled fawn. Will instinctively raised his hands to show he meant no harm, then closed and locked the door behind him before slowly walking over to the bed. The corner of the plush hot water bottle he’d given him was peeking out from under the blanket, confirming Will's suspicions.
"Are you here to laugh at me?" Mack mumbled. "We've lost three in a row. You can have a good laugh now."
Will shook his head. He pulled the blanket down a bit, uninvited but gentle, and sat on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his hands together to warm them up, then placed them softly over Mack's knees. He didn't say a word. Mack froze again. They sat like that for a long time until Will suddenly spoke.
"It’ll pass. It’ll get better."
Mack’s tears welled up instantly. Forgetting all pride, he buried his face in Will’s shoulder, crying out, "It hurts so much... I'm in so much pain. But everyone is counting on me. I can't even take a break. Did you... did you go through this too back then?"
Will kept one hand on Mack’s knee, while his other hand moved on its own, gently stroking Mack’s back. He slid his hand upward, finally resting on the back of Mack’s neck, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Yeah," Will said softly. "I cried from the pain too. Gabe and Leno roasted me about it for months."
Will kept one hand resting on Mack’s knee, while his other hand rose involuntarily, stroking Mack’s back from bottom to top before finally coming to rest on the nape of his neck. He gave it a gentle squeeze and murmured, "Yeah, I cried my eyes out back then, too. Gabe and Leno teased me about it for ages."
Then the air fell quiet again. Will was still diligently applying a warm compress to Mack’s knee. At some point, a notification chimed on one of their phones. Following the sound, they both glanced over and realized it was already past midnight. It was as if Will suddenly became aware of what he was doing; he pulled both hands back and stammered, "You feeling better? I should probably head out. I don't want to keep you and your roommate up."
As he stood to leave, Mack instinctively caught his hand. "Please stay," he pleaded, looking up at Will with big, puppy-dog eyes. "Hutson is out again tonight. I just... I don't like being alone."
Will sat back down on the bed. "Aren't you afraid I'll tell someone and get laughed at?" he asked. Then, he kicked off his outer pants and slid under Mack’s covers, pulling one of Mack’s legs between his own thighs to warm it up. Will’s body was radiating heat, while Mack’s knee was freezing. The icy touch made Will shiver. "If anyone finds out about this," he muttered, "I'm blaming you for forcing me to stay." And just like that, they fell asleep facing each other.
When they woke up the next morning, somehow Mack had curled up in Will’s arms, his back pressed against Will’s chest. Will woke up first. College was a time of peak youth and hormones, and he awkwardly realized he had morning wood. He shifted his body, trying to get up to take care of it, but the movement woke Mack. Flushing red, Mack whispered, "Go to the bathroom." Will practically sprinted into the en-suite and shut the door. Listening to the heavy breathing through the wood, Mack realized a fire had ignited in his own lower belly.
This happened a few more times. Mack never explicitly asked Will to stay over; he’d just send a crying emoji in their DMs or mention that Hutson was out partying again. As long as Will wasn't away for an away game, it wasn't long before he showed up at BU’s dorm. With every movie night they spent like that—Will pulling Mack’s knee against his thigh to warm it, a hot water bottle resting on his patella—their distance kept shrinking.
Finally, during the end credits of one movie, Mack stared into Will’s slate-blue eyes and suddenly leaned in to peck his lips. It was Mack’s first kiss. He didn't close his eyes, and neither did Will. Mack watched, mesmerized, as Will’s pupils dilated so wide that their original color almost vanished. Will couldn't hold back. He reached up, cupped the back of Mack’s neck, and deepened the kiss, dragging Mack from a tentative brush into a long, lingering one. When they finally pulled apart, both were panting, at a loss for words. Will awkwardly turned away first, tapping aimlessly at the tablet to close the movie interface. "It's late," he mumbled. "We should sleep."
That was the last time Mack saw Will in his college dorm.
Will had never wanted to take advantage of the situation. He figured Mack had only kissed him because Will happened to be there, and Mack was lonely. Nothing more. He didn't want to exploit that, so he gradually started ghosting Mack—ignoring texts, leaving immediately after games, never giving Mack a chance to catch him alone. Mack was down in the dumps for a while. But as he grew older, the knee pain became less frequent, and his skating grew smoother and more technical. The energy he used to spend fighting off growing pains was redirected to hockey.
For a while, Mack actually hated Will. He could even say he despised him. Will had strolled into his life so effortlessly, seen him at his most vulnerable, and then just walked away. Even though Mack had let him in at first, it still felt unacceptable. So, he channeled his fury into their games against BC, playing far more aggressively. He chirped Will constantly during face-offs and even started crashing into Leno and Gabe, breaking up their passes to Will.
The college league ended quickly. Will was drafted by the Sharks, and Mack seemed to have finally outgrown his growing pains. Will assumed they would just maintain this distant, lukewarm relationship forever. Until, the following year, the Sharks won the first overall pick. Everyone knew who it was going to be. Will suddenly found himself nervous; he had never imagined playing on the same team as Mack.
They met for the first time in the NHL at development camp. Will was standing rink-side, watching the newly drafted players, when Mack emerged from the locker room and walked right up to him. Will wasn't geared up—he had no intention of playing—but Mack was in full equipment, skates and all, looking a full head taller and significantly broader than Will.
When Will turned his head, Mack was right there in his face. He instinctively took a step back, but Mack pressed forward, boxing Will in between his body and the boards. After offering a perfectly casual greeting, Mack leaned in close to Will’s ear. Shielding his mouth with his hockey glove, he asked through gritted teeth, "Why didn't you ever reply to my texts? Did you think messing with me was funny?"
Their interactions on the sidelines were caught on camera and posted online. After the first day of practice wrapped up, Mack was cornered by a reporter. "I noticed the interaction between you and Will earlier," the reporter said. "Are you two actually close? Everyone assumed you were rivals."
Mack smiled brightly. "Yeah, we’ve actually always been good. We used to text a lot back in college, and sometimes we’d even hang out."
Will was watching the interview from his home in San Jose. (Yes, he hadn’t even stayed to watch Mack’s scrimmage; like an ostrich, he’d retreated to his safe zone to avoid reality.) His sister, Grace, had stopped by to visit him during the off-season.
Lying on the couch, Grace played Mack’s interview out loud. Listening to that familiar voice and the half-truths, Will was squirming in his seat. Grace found it strange and asked, "Since when did you and Mack get so close?" Will stammered, unable to get a single word out.
Grace, sharp as ever, sensed something was off. Grabbing the hood of Will’s sweatshirt, she commanded him not to retreat to his room until he told her everything. Reluctantly, Will confessed, "We slept in the same bed. Then he kissed me, and I ghosted him."
Grace’s reaction was basically: Oh... oh?! "And now you’re teammates? Isn't that incredibly awkward? Wait, do you like him? Don't you like him?"
"I do like him," Will said. "I don't really want to describe a top-tier player this way, but he seemed pretty vulnerable back then. I felt like I was taking advantage of him. It wasn't right."
Grace rolled her eyes. "Was him inviting you to his dorm all those times some kind of gentlemanly thing, then?"
Will fell silent for a moment, trying to defend Mack with "It's not the same," before completely talking himself into a corner. Covering his face, he thought for a long time before muttering, "I still like him, right? It's too obvious."
Grace let out a scoff, snatched Will’s phone, found the interview video, and hit 'like.' Cue another absolute storm of hate from the X crowd.
Will opened his messages and clicked into his chat with Mack, staring blankly at the several screens of unread texts. Suddenly, Mack’s status changed to Online. Will watched as the typing bubble appeared in the chat, then vanished, only to reappear, repeating this cycle for what felt like forever. Will kept staring until Mack finally sent: I hate you.
Will wasn't entirely sure if Mack was being sarcastic. Before he could even reply, another message popped up: You can't keep dodging me. We're on the same team, dumbass.
Grace leaned over to look at Will’s phone and laughed. "Boy’s definitely into you." Will just wanted to dig a hole and bury himself.
The next day, Will decided to face the issue head-on. Using the excuse of being a practice partner, he joined the development camp and was paired with Mack to play left wing. When Mack heard the assignment, his jaw practically hit the floor. "You guys got it wrong, doesn't Will play center?"
The coach just shrugged. "It’s not an official game anyway. Just play around."
Their first time on the ice together was surprisingly seamless, completely melting Mack’s anger. As they skated off the ice, Mack bumped shoulders with Will and said, "We make a good team."
Back in the locker room, Will seized the moment, pulling Mack aside. Pursed lips, he gathered his courage for a long moment before saying, "About that kiss..." But before he could finish, he saw the smile instantly drop from Mack’s face.
Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, Will blurted out, "I don't hate you because of that kiss. I'm not trying to play you and run. I was just afraid that you didn't actually like me. That you only kissed me because you were afraid of being lonely. Because I couldn't bear to have you and then lose you. I like you too much. I didn't dare take the gamble."
Mack didn't say a word. Will didn't dare open his eyes to look at Mack’s expression. In those few seconds of absolute silence between them, Will ran through every possible outcome in his head. The worst-case scenario he could think of was that he had completely misread the situation, they’d have to play an awkward season together, and one of them would eventually leave the Sharks.
Then, he heard a soft chuckle escape from Mack’s direction, followed by a loud, unrestrained laugh. Mack had one hand resting on Will’s shoulder and the other clutching his stomach, doubled over in laughter.
"So you like me that much, huh?" Mack asked, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction.
Finally unable to resist, Will opened his eyes. He instinctively opened his mouth to argue, but Mack grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. It was light. It was quick. But it was enough to say everything.
"Luv u 2," Will heard Mack say brightly.