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The Canucks jersey hanging on Mack’s wall was torn by the armpit.
He squinted, trying to see the extent of the damage. Lying facedown on his bed wasn’t exactly a prime viewing angle, but rolling over felt like too much effort.
When had it gotten ripped? He’d been home for weeks. It was always hanging there in its glass case, smudged by RJ’s fingerprints whenever he’d barge in to take a closer look. That thing was more protected than the Declaration of Independence when he’d seen it in D.C. a few years ago.
Why? Because bulletproof glass had nothing on Macklin Celebrini.
He groaned into his pillow.
Vancouver was always boring in the afternoon. RJ played video games downstairs, Charlie doomscrolled on Instagram, Aiden went out and did fuck-all with his girlfriend, and his parents did their grocery runs, because in a family of athletes, there was never too much protein powder.
Never.
Maybe he should’ve taken a page out of Charlie’s book. He grabbed his phone, finger hovering over Instagram as he debated wasting the next two hours.
Fuck it. Practice was at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow. He had time to kill. He clicked on the app.
A notification popped up over the pink-orange Stories bar.
Smitty
yo can u call rn
(3:28 p.m.)
Mack rolled his eyes, smiling. How busy did Will think he was?
“Hey, Willy.” He rolled over, gazing at his beige ceiling.
“Hey, Mackie. You busy?” Will’s voice crackled over the speakers, a little breathless.
“Oh, yeah, for sure.” He picked at his cuticle. He could almost see Will’s wide eyes practically screaming Mackie, I’m so sorry, did I bother you?
Will could never bother him. Mack hoped he knew that.
“I can literally hear Instagram calling my name, so make it quick.”
Will giggled, the audio shaking with his laugh. Mack smiled into the screen. Will couldn’t see him, anyway.
“Uh,” he choked out. He sounded like he was smiling. “Can you come pick me up?”
Mack blinked.
“Buddy, I can barely drive in Vancouver without running a red light. What makes you think I can haul ass to Boston, Massachusetts?"
He would, though. If he wasn’t scared, he’d drive anywhere for Will. And if the insurance covered the damage. Oh shit, did Dada bundle the ‘Home and Auto’ thing with Progressive—
“No, I mean. Um.” More giggles. Mack heard a car honk somewhere in the background. “I’m at the airport. In Vancouver.”
Mack sat up so fast his neck cracked. Outside, the trees had started rustling with the breeze, emerald leaves drifting down onto the grass. A squirrel ran past Mack’s windowsill, an acorn clutched in its tiny paws.
Will. Vancouver. Will. In Vancouver???
“Hilarious, Will. That’s so funny. I’m hanging up.”
Another notification pinged on his phone, this time a Live Location pin.
Directions to YVR International Airport. 20 minutes, 10.2 miles.
“Shut up.” Will needed to stop giggling. Mack felt a giddy scream bubbling in his throat, and if Will didn’t say sike in the next five seconds, he was literally going to jump. “Shut the fuck up.”
“So are you coming to pick me up?” Will’s voice had gotten quieter, almost shy. Like he thought Mack was mad at him, that he was going to shove him back onto the plane. “Or do I have to get a taxi?”
His socks. Mack needed his socks. “You,” he hissed, yanking open his creaky drawer, “are an idiot. You’re so fucking stupid.”
One sock. Then another. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Thanks, Mackie.”
Mack practically tumbled down the stairs, socks sliding against the polished hardwood. Keys, where were his KEYS—
“Can I come?”
Mack skidded to a halt, then turned slowly. RJ stared back at him, juicebox hanging from his mouth. His hands were still on the Xbox controller, idly pressing the X as his Chel avatar shot into empty space on the TV screen.
How much had he heard?
“No.”
RJ ditched the controller, stumbling toward him. “Mackie, please, I wanna see Will. I’ll be so quiet, please.”
“RJ, no. I’m leaving, tell Dada I’ll be back soon.”
RJ pouted. Then walked back to the couch, falling back with a sigh. “You suck, Mack.”
Mack rolled his eyes, and slammed the front door behind him.
It bounced once.
Then clicked open again.
He hurried to his car, yanking over the driver-side door — ugh, driving — and slid in. He checked the GPS. 20 minutes. Fuck. Okay.
He sped out of the driveway. Will was in Vancouver. His breath was coming in sharp gasps, and something sharp twanged in his chest.
He hadn’t seen Will in a month. And now he was here?
Maybe Mack should start praying more often.
He pulled up to the red light, and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. He could almost see it: Will, sitting in the passenger seat, curls tousled from the flight. Will, blue eyes shining through a visor across the ice.
Will. Will. Will. It echoed in his head, all the voices turning into one loud chorus.
Will came… home.
“The light’s green.” RJ leaned over from the back seat, sucking juice noisily through his straw.
“Are we there yet?”
Mack screamed.
***
“RJ, if you’re going to be here, at least be helpful.”
RJ was practically standing on his nice leather seats as he peered out the window. Any other time, Mack would’ve yelled. Today, he couldn’t care less.
“Mack, I literally can’t see him. Can you try calling him again?”
“Fuck.” Mack tapped Will’s contact with a little more force than necessary. Cars honked at them as they idled in the Terminal. It’s all Will’s fault, guys. Blame him, not me.
The call went straight to voicemail. Mack didn't know what he was going to do first: hug Will, or smack him over the head.
“Mack, look, I see him. Mack, he’s right there, oh my god—”
Mack’s head snapped up.
Will hurried across the Arrivals lane, suitcase rattling against the concrete.
And there he was.
His hair glinted gold in the afternoon light, stray hairs shining like tinsel. Fuck, Mack hated him so much.
Mack stepped out, yanking him closer by his hoodie. Will laughed, burrowing into the hug.
“Hey, Mackie.” His voice sounded so warm. It was still nice over a speaker, but nothing came close to this. To him, in the flesh.
“Fuck you. You’re an asshole, you know that?”
Will leaned back, blue eyes crinkling into crescents.
“Yeah. Missed you too, bud.”
Fuck. Mack forgot how to breathe.
“Will!” RJ fell out of the backseat, hurrying his way over to the front of the car.
“Ohmigod. Um. Hi. Nice to see you. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m RJ.”
Will’s eyes widened. Then he laughed, and tousled his hair.
“ ‘Course I remember you, RJ. It’s nice to see you too.” RJ’s face was beet red. Will crouched down, whispering something into his ear. Mack still heard it.
“It’s hard to forget the best Celebrini, after all.”
Mack squawked. “Will, I drive all this way after a moment’s notice, and you disrespect me like this? RJ, get in the car. We’re ditching this loser.”
Will’s face turned mock-serious. “I’m so sorry, Mackie. You’re the best Celebrini ever— no, hang on. Mack, where are you going— Mack—”
***
“Oh my god, Will. That was embarrassing.”
Will stared blearily at the puck that had caromed off of the backboard. Mack almost sympathized. Almost.
6 a.m. practice and residual jetlag wasn’t a great combination, but this was Will. He just needed a little push sometimes.
“You call that a one-timer, Smith? Jeez, that didn’t even touch the net.” Aiden snorted from somewhere behind the blue line.
“Oh, Aiden,” Will sighed. He skated over to the puck, and snapped it back to Mack. “Remind me how many goals BC won by in 2024?”
Asshole. Mack swiped him behind the legs. “Ow, Mack. Aren’t you going to defend my honor?”
“Not with that statistic. The first rule of Hockey East: we don’t talk about Hockey East.”
Will’s grin had turned sharper. Evil. “Fine, damn.”
Mack passed the puck across the crease. Will swung again.
Twine.
Will turned to him with a sunny smile.
There he was.
Mack facewashed him, heartbeat thrumming as he heard those giggles again. “Atta boy, Smit. That was better.”
Aiden’s brows were drawn together, gaze flicking between the two of them. “You guys are so weird.”
Will smirked from underneath Mack’s hands. “Keep being salty, Celebrini.”
The rink gate opened suddenly, and Misa’s voice gradually grew louder.
“—No, Dick, salmon is so much better than tilapia. Are your taste buds broken?”
“Michael, you don’t have taste. The flavor that tilapia has, we couldn’t get that with our salmon. Also, the one you caught tasted like shit.”
Dickie's helmet sat crooked, nearly over his eyes as he stepped onto the ice. Misa was still defending his salmon. Neither of them saw Will in all his blonde glory.
He and Will exchanged matching expressions of glee.
“What’s up, guys?” Will’s voice was shaking with laughter.
Misa didn’t even look over, too engrossed in his debate.
“Hey, Smit,” Dickie said, absentmindedly. And then he froze.
“...Will?”
Misa’s mouth snapped shut, eyes as big as saucers. He swiveled towards Will.
“Oh hell no. Look, Dickie— Dumber and Dumber are reunited at last. I’m going to kill myself.”
Dickie blinked. “Don’t worry, Mis. We can jump off of Grouse Mountain together.”
“Oh come on, I know you missed me.” Will spread his arms wide, skating toward them. “Bring it in, guys.”
“Get the fuck away from me.” Misa hid behind Dickie. “I wanted one summer without your guys' bullshit. One summer.”
Will chased after them, and Mack just looked. This past month, he’d been seeing Will through grainy instagram clips and grainier facetimes. People had been coming to see Mack play in Vancouver, but he always felt like there was something missing on his right side, a void of darkness that only he could see.
But even though it rained sometimes, Vancouver was always warmer in the summer.
The sun came back. It always did.
***
“Will, I’m not driving. I’ve had enough.”
Will looked at him, expression flat. “Okay, princess. Put the address in, I don’t know where we’re going.”
Mack typed it in as they pulled out of the parking lot, Will muttering to himself as he inched too close to a nearby pole.
“This is a Mercedes, Will.”
Will’s knuckles were gripped tight around the plush leather steering wheel. “I’m perfectly aware.”
“I’m not sure you are.” The pole was practically fusing to the car with how close it was. “You dent my car, I’ll dent you.”
“Shut up. Please,” Will bit out.
They finally exited the parking lot. Mack heaved a sigh as they merged onto the highway. “Isn’t it harder to drive here?”
Will side-eyed him. “The rules are practically the same. You’re just a terrible driver everywhere.”
Mack wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t.
Will noticed anyway. “Okay, Mackie. I’m sorry.”
He gently elbowed Mack over the center console. “Besides, I like driving you. Here or San Jose, it doesn’t matter.”
Mack’s face warmed. The sun streamed from under the visor, but it wasn’t that. Will’s lips twitched up with a smile, like he knew. Of course he knew.
The car lulled into a comfortable silence, Will humming along to the radio while Mack watched the city pass by.
When Mack had left Boston in June, his heart had been ripped to shreds. He’d been hurt by the media calling him an idiot, his own guilt eating him alive, the stupid kegstand looping in the back of his head. But nothing had hurt him more than seeing Will embraced by the place that made him. His eyes looked just that much brighter under the American sky, hair more golden near the Cape. A Boston boy, etched into every fiber of his being.
And unlike Will, Mack had clawed his way to the top of Massachusetts, uneven footing as he stared down Commonwealth Avenue. They may have hailed him, once, but Will’s city loved him. Mack didn’t blame them.
And so he left.
Will had texted him days later, gentle prodding giving way to half-truths. Mack still hadn’t told him why he left. Not when Ryan Leonard had sat next to him on the Fourth. No, Mack wasn’t there.
He sighed, burrowing into the passenger seat. And then his brows crinkled. Why was Will here?
His gaze flicked back to the driver’s side. Will was fiddling with the radio stations, face visibly brightening when he found a station playing Ariana Grande.
He looked happy like this.
Mack decided he didn’t need to know, right then.
***
His hand was burnt from the coffee cup. Will had tried to wrestle a cardboard sleeve onto it earlier, and he’d swatted him away. What are you, my mom?
He was seriously regretting it. He’d rather die before he admitted it to Will, though.
“This is good coffee, Mack.” Will took a sip of his diabetes-inducing mocha, and then blew on his hands.
“Are your fingers cold too? I don’t know why, but mine are freezing.”
Mack looked at his own reddening hands. Fucker.
“Yeah, no, mine are super cold. For sure.”
“Uh huh. Listen, what’s a cool place we can go to? I wanna, like, chill. ”
An idea popped into Mack’s head. It was a good one. It was a really good one.
“Will, you’ve watched Descendants, right?”
Will rolled his eyes. “I have a sister, Mack. Of course I’ve watched Descendants. Why?”
Mack shoved Will back into the car, barking directions instead of answering Will’s questions. They passed by a sign, Lynn Canyon Park emblazoned on it in white.
“Mack, where are we— oh. Oh.”
Will spilled out of the car and ran to the water’s edge. Mack followed behind, a smile stretching on his face.
He studied Will’s face. The rippling water reflected itself in his eyes, and Mack wanted to dive. He wanted to— he wanted.
“This is beautiful. I can’t believe you grew up here.”
Mack felt his smile drop slightly. He had technically grown up here, but he’d forgotten the vivid green of the trees a long time ago. He hoped that they hadn’t forgotten him.
“Yeah, I mean—“ he scratched the back of his head. “Moved away when I was thirteen, so. Don’t really remember anymore.”
“Yeah you do. You showed this place to me, didn’t you?” Will gestured to the lake. Like this, it looked enchanted. No wonder they’d chosen it for a Disney movie.
“And whatever you don’t remember,” he said, flashing a smile, “we can find out together.”
Mack looked at the trees. The golden light caught the edges, turning them a lighter green than the rest of the leaves. He knew that green. He’d seen it in the mirror.
He’d never forget the aquamarine of the lake, though. That color would always be in the eyes he stared into.
Maybe it was better this way. Seeing his hometown through eyes that were a little bluer.
“Yeah. Let’s do it together.”
***
Aiden glared at Will over the candlelights on their table, and Mack looked nervously between them. He just wished they’d respect each other as much as he loved them both. It mattered to him.
“Okay, Aid.” Acacia angled her menu to him. “I’m getting the carbonara. What do you want?”
He pointed to Will. “His head on a platter.”
“I’m hurt, Aiden.” Will smacked a hand to his chest. “I thought we were better than this.”
Mack snorted despite himself, and Will grinned like he’d scored a game-winning goal. He stuck his tongue out at Aiden’s glower.
Acacia sighed. “Boys. My gosh, why do I even try? We can’t even be civil for one dinner. Aiden, I expected this from you, but Will? Really?”
Will actually looked apologetic, now. “I’m sorry, Acacia. It won’t happen again.”
She still looked skeptical.
And then he hit her with the puppy eyes. Mack would’ve slapped him if he didn’t know that it wasn’t on purpose. He just looked like that.
Something in Acacia’s expression cracked, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh come on, that’s not fair.”
Aiden scoffed. “Acacia, that’s pathetic—“
Mack kicked him under the table.
Acacia didn’t see any of this, thankfully. “Aiden, look at him. How does his face do that?”
Will’s eyebrows scrunched adorably. “Do what? What’s going on?”
“Aiden, look.”
Aiden looked. Then sighed. “Fuck, Smith, you’re so annoying. This is why you’re hard to love.”
Will’s nose wrinkled. Then his eyes sparked with recognition, widening slowly. “Oh. My. God. Mack, did you hear that?”
Mack couldn’t find the words. Thank you, god. He really had to start praying.
“Mack,” Will whispered in full earshot, “he said he loves me.”
“That is so not what I said—“
“Shh, Aiden. Let him have this.”
***
Mack picked at the couch’s peeling leather. The late-afternoon light spilled in through the patio door, casting a glare across Rachael's face on the TV. He didn’t know how long they’d been watching Friends for, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Will’s head was leaning back against the couch, legs sprawled on the plush carpet. Cali had curled up next to him, plopping her little golden head on his thigh as he scratched behind her ears.
“Hey Will?”
Both Will and Cali looked up at him. Mack bit back a smile. They even had the same expression.
“What?”
Mack nudged him with his foot. “Nevermind.”
They both huffed and turned around. Mack opened his mouth again— and then someone clomped down the stairs. Or rather, two people.
“Charlie, I don’t care. I genuinely can’t tell the difference between the two, just close your eyes and pick one.”
Charlie rolled her eyes at Aiden. “Bro, are you kidding? They’re two different shades.”
She held the lip gloss tubes up. “This one’s Plum,” she said, pushing one forward, “and this one’s Cherry. That’s like saying purple and red are the same color.”
Aiden flopped down next to Mack. “No, Charlie, I’m so sorry,” he snarked. “Why don’t you get what Monica’s wearing?” He pointed to the TV, where Monica was in the middle of a screaming match with Ross. Mack didn’t know any better, but it was kind of hard to see her lip gloss.
“You’re so helpful, Aiden. Thanks a lot.” Charlie sat down and sighed. “I can’t believe this. I’ve got you three chucklefucks as brothers, Dad, and a mom that doesn’t even wear makeup. Jesus.”
Will snorted from his spot on the floor. “You gotta train ‘em early, Charlie. I’ve been dragged into Sephora every week since I was twelve. Thanks to Grace, I know what hyaluronic acid is.”
Charlie sighed dreamily. “She’s my hero. Will, you gotta ask her what her hair routine is. It’s so pretty, I want to braid it.”
“Don’t even talk to me about hair. She fries her own hair, and then gets mad because ‘oh, Will, I wish I had your curls.’” He shook his head. “Charlie, she had curly hair.”
Mack was lost. So was Aiden, judging by his confused expression.
Charlie sat up suddenly. “Wait. Will, can I braid your hair? It’s grown out so long, please.”
Will blinked. Aiden sighed. “Will, say no now. She’s gonna go full Devil Wears Prada on your ass.”
Charlie didn't give up. “Will, please, this is my only chance.”
Will sighed. “You know what— fine. But if you put fucking ribbons or anything, I’m not following you back on Insta.”
“I promise. Thank you, thank you, Will.”
She ran and sat on the couch behind Will, raking her fingers through his hair.
“Shit, Will, it’s so fluffy. Fuck you.”
Will slumped against the couch, eyelashes fluttering. “Mmh. Not my fault I have good genetics.”
He was slurring his words. Mack reached over and tugged a stray curl, laughing. “Who’s getting princess treatment now, huh, Smitty?”
Mack wasn’t sure when Will had stopped looking like a guest in their house. He’d been RJ’s favorite for a while, but in three days, he’d won over Aiden and Charlie.
He’d been Mack’s first, though.
Charlie had sectioned off locks of his hair, gently tucking the curls into tiny twists. His hair glittered in the sunlight.
Mack wished he was in Charlie’s position, right then. Sink his fingers into Will’s hair, feel him go boneless—
“You look beautiful, Smith. Gorgeous,” Aiden drawled from the couch.
Will didn’t answer.
Mack frowned. “Smitty?”
Silence.
“Did he actually fall asleep—”
“Shhhh. Guys, shut the fuck up,” Mack hissed.
Will’s head was tilted down, soft snores coming from his open mouth. Charlie was still braiding his hair, laughing.
Aiden whipped his phone out. “Oh man, Acacia is going to love this.”
Mack stifled a laugh into his hand as Aiden took one of those horrendous 0.5 pictures.
“Yup, that’s his new profile picture.”
***
Robyn bustled around the kitchen, humming to herself as she opened the spice cabinet. Mack swiveled around on the barstool, knocking his sneaker into Will's shin every time he spun past. He already fell asleep once, he wasn’t going to do it again. Not on Mack’s watch.
“Mack, honey,” Robyn called from behind the stove, “can you hand me the carrots?”
“Yeah.” Mack heaved himself up and swung open the fridge door. He grabbed the carrots from the bottom rung, and placed them next to her. “Why can’t you get RJ to help you? He’s upstairs playing video games.”
Robyn raised her eyebrows. “Why can’t you help me?”
Mack gestured toward Will. “I’ve gotta keep him company, mom. Otherwise he’s gonna fall asleep on us.”
“Actually,” Will said, standing up from his stool. “Do you need any help? I won’t feel sleepy if I’m on my feet.”
Robyn visibly swooned. Mack scowled.
Smooth fucker.
“Are you sure, love? You’re a guest.”
“Yeah, of course.” Will washed his hands in the sink. “Want me to chop up the carrots?”
“Will, welcome to the Celebrini family. You’re my favorite kid.” Robyn patted his shoulder with a smile, then turned around toward the stove. Mack flipped him off.
Mack watched as they worked in tandem, stepping around each other as they prepped dinner. A delicious smell began to waft around the kitchen, herbs and tomato puree making his mouth water. Will and Robyn were talking about something, but Mack didn’t register it. Their voices overlapped into a gentle hum, and he closed his eyes.
He could almost see it. Lazy mornings in San Jose, padding around a quiet apartment while watching golden hair glinting with the sunrise. Eggs for breakfast, just the way Mack liked them. The way he made them.
He wanted this. Not here, in Vancouver. He wanted this near him, in proximity. Being able to reach out and touch honeyed skin, blue eyes staring into his.
“Mack.” His eyes snapped open.
“You tease me for falling asleep, now look at you.” Will ruffled his hair, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re such a hypocrite.”
Robyn laughed as she stirred the sauce.
“Will, did Mack tell you about the time he cried when baby RJ had scored a goal?”
Oh no. “Mom. Please. We don’t need to do this.”
Robyn grinned. “Oh, Macklin, we absolutely do.”
Will looked at him, eyes wide. “Are you serious? When was this?”
“So,” she pressed her hands onto the marble counter. “I’d taken Mack and RJ to the rink, back when Mack was only eleven. RJ was four. He was wobbling on his skates like Bambi, dragging around one of Mack’s old sticks.”
Will’s eyes were tearing up from laughter. Mack rested his forehead against the cool marble, wishing for the floor to swallow him up. “Mom.”
“Shush, Mack. So, he was practicing his defending, and he’d asked RJ to skate up to him and try to shoot the puck. RJ. And the poor baby, he really wanted to impress his big brother. So he came up to Mack with the puck, tripped, and somehow got the puck in the net.”
Will wheezed. “No fucking way.”
Robyn pinched one of Mack’s reddening ears. “This guy cried all the way home, screaming for a rematch. RJ was giggling from his carseat.”
“Aww, Mackie,” Will cooed. “It’s okay, bud. You win some, you lose some.”
“Will, I’m going to stab you with your knife.”
***
“RJ, stop throwing the ball into the bushes. You’re making Will run for it.”
RJ glared at Mack, then turned to Will’s retreating figure. “Sorry, Will.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it, bud. Mack’s just jealous that he can’t catch.” Will jogged back over, the ball clasped in his hands.
Mack kicked at Will’s ankle, but he dodged it with a giggle. The moonlight caught on his chain for a second, glinting silver in the dark.
“Shut up. Go long, RJ.” Mack chucked the ball. RJ ran back, falling against the grass as he caught it. “Touchdown!”
“Will, have you been making RJ watch football again?”
Will shrugged. “What can I say? I needed another Pats fan to celebrate with.”
Mack waved at RJ to pass the ball to him. “That’s called brainwashing, Will. That’s illegal.”
Will intercepted the throw. “I’ve enlightened him. He’s got taste now.”
He geared up to throw the ball. The patio door slid open.
“So this is where y’all are camped out, huh? No wonder it was so quiet inside.”
Rick Celebrini stepped out onto the lawn. He lifted his arms up. “Here, Will. Pass it.”
Will adjusted his grip on the football before sending it over. Rick caught it with a grin. “Nice, that shoulder’s looking better already.”
“Yeah, for sure. Feels good, too.” Will smiled, one of the tiny ones that Mack loved. “Thanks for your help back then, Mr. Celebrini.”
Rick snorted, clapping him on his shoulder. “Mr. Celebrini? Jesus, kid, you’re family now. Call me Rick.”
Family. Mack smiled, looking away. The word sent something warm zinging through his veins. Will was family.
Rick fit seamlessly into their little catching circle, throwing the spinny balls that RJ liked, making Mack jump for the ones going over his head. His throws to Will were perfect, just like they used to be when Mack was younger.
Mack missed those days, honestly. Him, Aiden, and RJ in the backyard, jumping over each other while Charlie rolled her eyes in the background. He loved playing catch. He wished Will would've been there, screaming and laughing as the ball came toward them like a missile.
And then he realized: Will hadn’t had this when he was younger.
His dad had always been away, whether it was on business meetings or something… else. He’d been paraded around like a show pony by his mom, and even Grace could only do so much. Sure, Rick had pushed Mack, but at least he’d had Aiden. Leonard, bless his soul, was no Aiden.
The ball landed in his hands, but suddenly it felt heavier.
He saw it in Will’s eyes, the glossy sheen catching the moonlight.
RJ ran inside, mumbling something about water, I need water through huffing breaths. Rick walked closer to Will, muttering something out of his earshot. Mack moved closer.
“...You’re sure it’s alright, yeah? Be honest.”
Will gulped, looking away. “Yeah, I mean. It’s just sore, sometimes. It’s getting there, though.”
Mack blinked. He’d been sore? Why hadn’t he told him—
“Don’t keep pushing yourself if it hurts. I’ve told Mack, and I'll tell you too. Recovery is the most important part. If you need help, ask.”
Will looked past Rick, to where Mack was still clutching the ball uselessly. He huffed out a laugh.
“I will. I promise.”
Rick pulled Mack under his other arm, walking them both back inside the house. “Good man. I’m proud of you both. Now go to sleep, please. And make sure RJ brushes his teeth.”
***
Will turned a puck over in his hands. He was lying on Mack’s bed, hair spread like a halo around him. Mack picked at one of the remaining braids, feeling it come apart under his fingers.
“I still can’t believe you kept it.”
Mack flushed. “What, the puck that you went and fetched for me? In our last game of the season? Why wouldn’t I keep it?”
Will looked away, hand covering his mouth. The freckles across his nose had darkened in the summer sun, and Mack hated that he noticed things like that. Fuck, he was so annoying. Mack wanted to hit him. Or kiss him.
Instead, he tugged one of his curls, watching it spring back up.
“I love your room, Mackie. It’s so… you.” He reached his hand up towards the goddamn Canucks jersey. “ ‘Course you have it framed.”
"Dude, this shit could sell for, like, a hundred thousand, probably.” Mack looked at it, gaze lingering on the tear beneath the armpit before he looked away. “I got it signed by one of the Sedins back in 2012. This shit’s vintage.”
“What, are you saving it for emergency funds or something?” Will rolled over, looking at him with his big blue eyes. “Macklin Celebrini flees the country, sells Canucks jersey for some spare change.”
Mack laughed so hard his stomach hurt. He flopped down next to Will, nudging his foot gently as they stared up at the ceiling.
This. This was home.
Something had been bothering him, though. An echo in the back of his mind, ricocheting every time Will looked at him.
“Hey, Will?” Mack whispered. “Can— Can I ask you something?”
Will looked over, gaze impossibly fond. “Sure, Mackie. Shoot.”
“Now don’t take this the wrong way— I really love that you’re here, but, um.” Shit. He was messing this up, judging by the furrow in Will’s brow. “Why did you come?”
A beat of silence. “I mean, you already had everyone back in Boston, so. You know what, never mind—”
“I dunno, Mack. Why do you think?”
It was so quiet, Mack barely caught it. There was something open in Will’s expression, like he’d given him something to hold, not break.
“Why would I come here, stay in your house, and meet your family?”
Oh. Mack bit his lip to stop the grin that was threatening to burst.
“You missed me, didn’t you?”
Will blinked, then rolled his eyes. “God, you’re so stupid. Yeah, that too.”
He leaned closer, nose almost touching Mack’s. Mack could count each eyelash, each mole on his perfect face.
He’d gone quiet, now. Eyes searching Mack’s, blue to green. His breath brushed against Mack’s jaw, minty and warm.
“Am I reading this wrong?”
Mack sucked in a breath. Oh.
He thought of how seamlessly Will had bled into every corner of his life, painting it in all the colors on full brightness.
Home was Vancouver. Home was Will.
“No,” he whispered.
“No, you’re not.”
He leaned in. Will met him halfway.
And it was everything.
***
“You didn’t forget anything, did you? I can go back and get it, we have time.”
Will smiled. “No thanks, Rick. I think I’ve got everything.”
The Departures gate felt emptier than usual. Or maybe it was just Mack. Will laughed at something Rick said, before he was pulled into a crushing hug.
“Call us when you reach, okay? And I’m gonna keep asking you about that shoulder.”
Will glanced at Mack, then back toward Rick. “I’m counting on it.”
Next, Robyn practically yanked him toward her. Will had to stoop down to reach her hug, but he made it work. She kissed him on the cheek.“Have a safe flight, hon.”
Mack’s eyes burned. Will’s looked glassy. Fuck, this was really happening.
“Will, I’m gonna text you and Grace about my makeup, okay? I better get an answer fast, so lock in.”
Will ruffled Charlie’s hair, giggling as she squawked. “Yeah, got it. I’ll tell Grace, I promise.”
Charlie sniffed. “You better.”
RJ jumped up and down, trying to wiggle himself into the little circle they’d formed. “Will, you’re going to help me practice tape-to-tapes next time, right?”
Mack scoffed. “RJ, I can teach you that.”
“Yeah, but Will does it better.”
Will clapped him on the back. “Sure, dude. Mack’s not as good, obviously, but he’s alright to practice with for now.”
Mack stuck his tongue out at him. Will did it back.
Then he turned towards Aiden. “Admit it, bro. You’re going to miss me.”
Aiden held up a hand, face deadpan. “I swore I wouldn’t tell lies.”
“Love you too, Aiden. C’mere.”
Aiden spluttered as Will hugged him. “Of all the people,” he wheezed over Will's shoulder, “you had to pick this guy?”
Mack shook his head. “I regret it every day.”
And then Will stood in front of him, all golden and blue and everything else that was slipping through his fingers. Mack blinked hard.
“Do you really have to go to Shoulder Check?”
Rick and Robyn were herding everyone else to the side, looking back with amused glances. Oh yeah, he was going to get flamed on the way back.
“I’m sorry, Mackie. It’s too late to back out.” Will reached out and grabbed one of his hands, and warmth zinged through his fingertips.
Mack swallowed, tears brimming to the surface. “I’m gonna miss you, Will.”
Will’s gaze snapped up to his, soft and gentle and his. “Hey,” he said, bringing his free hand up to cup Mack’s cheek. “Hey. We’re definitely going to see each other in August, right?”
He nodded, sniffling. Will barreled on, face set with determination. “And like Charlie said, keep checking your phone, because you need to tell me what you think about the apartments I’ll send you. Can you do that, Mackie?”
Apartment. The tears spilled over, grazing Will’s fingers as he brushed them away. “I love you, you know that?”
Will smiled, a sad, fragile thing. “How could I not?”
Mack sniffled again, then snorted. “We’re acting like we’re not going to see each other in three weeks.” He swiped at his eyes, hard. “You better call.”
Will laughed thickly. “Yeah. I’m gonna.”
“Swear it.”
“Okay, Mack.” Will’s lips brushed his, and it tasted just like it did the first time.
“I swear it.”