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Will has this weird urge.
It’s this tingle in his finger tips whenever his eye catches a piece of Mack’s clothing.
It’s the way his mind melts when he inhales Mack’s scent.
It’s the overwhelming feeling of someone having his back all the time.
It’s the feeling that he’s not judged by Mack.
It’s the feeling that’s he’s judged by Mack, by everyone.
Will doesn’t understand what all of this is pointing at but all he can think about is how much he wants something with Mack’s scent and how he wants to lay his on his sheets, as if it would protect him from everyone and everything. Keep him safe like the human that wears it does.
Will’s eyes feel heavy thinking about it. His mind is screaming at the nonsense that he’s thinking about. Something inside of him is pacing, howling in desperation because of Will not listening to it. As if Will’s supposed to understand what this is.
He runs a hand down his face and closes his eyes, his nails dig painfully into his skin with the motion. But he doesn’t truly care. He just wants his mind to stop or to realise what it wants and finally stop screaming so many feeling at him at the same time.
He just wants to feel sane - that is.
Then his mind wonders down a different path, like isn’t that what nesting is about?
Would it really matter if he’d take Mack’s hoodie?
But he shouldn’t nest - should he? He doesn’t need to and as if to remind himself he moves his hands over his eyes, latching onto the skin around his eyebrows to ground himself.
‘You’re not like other omegas so stop acting like them.’
The thing is he really wants to - he wants to have Mack’s scent all over his room, maybe he’d even add a few things from his teammates.
He father would be so mad. He’d probably make him sleep on a mattress in the basement to ‘freeze the hormones out’.
He’d probably forget to bring him something to eat too.
He’d probably end up having pneumonia again. He’d probably have to sit out a few games again.
When he feels his eyes sting, he decides that the next best thing is the pill bottle in his bathroom, the orange ‘omega suppressants’ label drowning anything else in his eyesight.
——
Will doesn’t really know what to do - he didn’t plan this - he swears - but the green oversized hoodie in his hands tells a different story.
He didn’t mean to take Mack’s hoodie. Really.
It just- the scent patches were too much today, aching at the ends of it, itchy and-
Mack’s gonna be so angry.
He’ll hate him.
He’ll never talk to him again.
Just because he couldn’t think like a normal person would.
Just because-
Will doesn’t even realise he’s crying - again - until he stifles a sob into the sleeve of his hoodie.
He brings the hoodie to his chest and hugs it.
He should take the suppressants again.
Will tries to walk over his room to crawl into his bed but ends up curling up beside it.
He brings his legs to his chest and fits into the cramped space between his bed and night table.
Tucks his head into Mack’s hoodie that’s over his knees, keeping an arm over it and brings the other hand to his hair. Caressing his hand through it like Mack did a few weeks ago.
Like Mack does when he’s tucking Will’s hair behind his ears to see his eyes.
Like he does when he’s trying to gain Will’s attention.
The quietness of the room is drowned by Will’s sobs and hiccups, the way he’s gasping for air, sniffling and dragging in shaky half breaths that aren’t nearly enough to satisfy his lungs.
He just wants to crawl into Mack’s chest and never come out.
He buries his nose further in the hoodie, knowing that he shouldn’t be doing that.
But that only makes him feel worse - he smells him everywhere and it makes the fear of Mack’s anger bigger.
Mack’s never been angry with him - not even when Will takes a fry from his plate.
Maybe if the ground would just swallow him whole it would be better.
Will suddenly feels really cold, a chill spreads through his body like a wave. His teeth chatter together like he’s back in the basement all over again.
Salty tears leak from his eyes and he catches them on his lips more times than he has sea water.
There’s a silent nauseousness that clings to him and spreads until it’s undeniably present.
His phone rings in his pocket, vibrating against his thigh.
But maybe it’s just his body shaking.
He pulls it out and for a quick moment his blurry sight clears when he sees the letters M - A - C - K lit up on his screen.
He freezes and then takes it, his thumb swipes the display shakily.
It brings the devise to his ear in a mechanical motion.
“-hat are you doing? I was thinking we could order in and- wait you know what, I’m already at the door who am I kidding- oh by the way have you seen my gree-” Will hiccups at the sound of Mack’s voice. He can’t really help it. He distantly hears his front door open but doesn’t have the energy to acknowledge it.
“Will? What’s wrong?” Mack’s voice turns from light to serious in a beat, he can hear the voice echo from somewhere in the house.
“I-” Will sniffles, then “I’m sorry” he mumbles miserably. I didn’t mean to, I swear. He doesn’t say.
Footsteps echo around the house but it really just feels like someone is stepping all over his brain and insides at the moment.
There’re hands all over him, gentle but frantic at the same time.
“Fuck.” Then there’re dire fingers yanking his scent patches off, hands cupping his cheek but Will’s too out of it to say something, his eyes stay zoned out in front of him. Will wants to lift his hands and place them over the patches to keep them from Mack’s prying hands and tell him that he shouldn’t do that, that his scent isn’t nice but he feels drained.
Mack sucks in a sharp breath the same time Will does - his scent smells like rotten fruit, sour, it’s disgusting.
Another sob escapes him the same time his stomach makes a grand re-entrance and this time he feels like he could actually throw up.
He closes his eyes, leans into the palm cradling his face. Willing the nausea to leave him alone.
“How are you so cold?” Mack mumbles, more to himself than to Will.
“M’ont feel well” Will hiccups into the palm of Mack’s hand.
“Let’s go to the bathroom, yeah Will? Can you stand?” Mack’s voice is controlled in a way that Will knows is only because he doesn’t want to spook Will.
Will shakes his head, then nods, like he can’t decide which ones true. Which one will be a less effort to Mack.
Mack’s searching his eyes, looking confused and a bunch of other emotions that Will can’t name.
Will looks away.
He fists his hand and digs his nails into the palm of his hand.
“Will,” Mack tries to catch his eye but Will doesn’t want to. He can’t.
Mack takes the hand that’s dragged over Will’s lap and that’s when he sees the green pile there.
Mack’s eyes widen.
Will takes the hand from Mack’s and buries his head back into his forearm, trying and failing to stifle a whimper.
“Hey, hey, is this why you’re upset?” Mack asks quietly, “because you think I’ll be mad?”
Oh.
He knows, how does he know?
Will hiccups and curls more into himself.
“Well I’m not, Will.” Mack places a hand on his lower back and runs his other one through the blond curls.
Will feels like he could puke.
Why isn’t Mack angry at him? Why is he so nice to him?
“Come one, look at me sweetheart” Mack’s voice is so soft.
Will obliges and prompts his chin on his knees.
His cheek are wet with tears and he feels exhausted.
“I don’t f-feel well” Will confesses in a small voice, he’s still shaking, still cold but it’s all to much at once and he doesn’t know what to address first.
Mack doesn’t waste a second. Doesn’t ask him if he can stand this time, just hooks his arms under his knees and hugs his lower back more securely and carries him to the bathroom quickly.
Will launches himself to the toilet, hurling up his dinner from last night, fully knowing that it’s past two pm and he hasn’t eaten anything today.
Mack leaves the room and Will curls up on himself.
Of course Mack would leave him, what kind of alpha wants to deal with an omega like him.
He’s stolen his favourite hoodie, now he’s making a mess, the bathroom wrecks. He’s bad.
Will tries to stifle the new wave of sobs into his hand but it doesn’t really help.
There’s a sound of hurried footsteps somewhere in the house.
He’s freezing. Shivers take full control of his body.
Mack’s probably running home. Away from Will.
At least he left his hoodie to Will.
Will pukes again just from sniffing his scent. And again and again, until he’s throwing up water.
Mack comes running back to Will a few seconds later, holding something in his hand.
There’s something heavy draped over his shaking figure and a hand rubbing circles into his lower back.
But he doesn’t feel better, doesn’t feel warmer.
“It’s okay, I’m not angry with you” Mack tries to reason with Will’s mind.
“I’m s-sorry.” Will’s voice is hard and raw, quiet, almost in a submissive way, like he’s in trouble.
The things is he should be. He doesn’t understand why Mack is acting like this.
“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong sweetheart” Mack murmurs back.
“I-“ he hiccups and curls further into the toilet, “I took your hoodie - I’m a mess, I- sorry- I’ll give it back.”
“I’m not mad Will, stop apologising. Look at me Will.” Mack gently turns Will’s head to him, “I’m not mad, It’s okay, yeah?”
“Why? I took your favourite hoodie.” Will tries to search Mack’s eyes, tries to desperately find answers that he hasn’t given him.
“I won’t be mad at you because you feel safe with my scent around,” Mack shakes his head, then he continues, “Will, you’re my favourite person, you can have literally all of my favourite stuff and I won’t care, as long as you feel comfortable.” And what else can Will do then nod dumbly.
Will feels warmth spread through him, his eyes sting again under the thumb that Mack’s brushing under his eyes.
“Do you think we can go to the couch?” Mack’s eyes feel softer on him now.
“Yeah.” He nods.
Mack lifts a cup of water for him to rinse his mouth out and after he’s done that, he lifts a wet towel and gently cleans his face with it. Wiping the stickiness from tears into the soft towel.
Once Mack’s satisfied, he lifts Will into his arms, heading in the direction of the living room but stops after a few steps when he feels Will’s nose brushing against his scent gland. He glances briefly down and tightens his arms around Will at the sight of him melting into Mack’s body like honey.
Will’s scent lightens significantly and Mack sighs in relief, his heart swelling.
Mack decides to take Will into the kitchen first, he makes Will sit on the counter, mumbling soft ‘I knows’ at Will’s protests.
He makes two toasts and chamomile tea, places the plate and the hot cup of tea on the table there before he helps Will jump down from the counter, the blanket still wrapped around him and the green hoodie still in his arms.
Mack helps him walk to the table and sits down on the pulled out chair that he prepared.
“Come here,” Mack leans forward and holds his arms out for him. Will makes a confused face while taking two steps to him.
It’s close enough for Mack to grab his waist and pull him into his lap.
Will makes a surprised noise but quickly gets used to the feeling, relaxing.
Mack pulls the blanket from his shoulders and grabs the bottom edge of Will’s hoodie all while taking his hoodie from Will’s arms.
Will’s eyes glaze over at the sight but Mack’s quick to shush him with the promise of giving it back to him.
He pulls Will hoodie off of him and replaces it with the green one. He throws Will’s one over an other chair, draws the blanket back over his shoulders.
Will’s eyelids creep down in relaxation, his scent turning sweeter. He leans his side into Mack’s chest.
“You need to eat something and then we’ll go lie down.” Will makes a sound of protest, already tucking his head back into Macklin’s neck.
“I’ll scent you if you eat and drink something.” Mack tries,
“really?” Will ducks his head out, looking at Mack with wide eyes.
Mack huffs, “of course” he adds gently. He doesn’t spare time and guides a piece of the toast to Will’s mouth, smiling when he takes a bite and leans back into Mack while chewing it.
They repeat the gesture of Will ducking his head out, taking a bite and then chewing, pressed back against Mack.
Once the toast is eaten and the tea has disappeared, Mack silently takes him to the couch, carrying him there.
He sits down on it with his legs stretched out in front of him, puts Will back into his lap, like he belongs there.
Will looks at him expectedly, not leaning against him, waiting.
Mack smiles and brings his wrists to Will’s neck, scents him with a thick layer of himself, deliberately spicing it up with protectiveness and calming pheromones.
Marking him like his own, Will closes his eyes and a soft sigh escapes him. He feels gentle all over, melting into him, into the safeness of Mack.
The hands leave his neck and instead wrap around him and bring him to lay on Mack’s chest.
Mack’s hands rub all over him under the hoodie. He strokes his hair, untangling it.
Will feels light, like he could fly away.
Will brings his head back to Mack’s neck, taking deep lungfuls of him and falls asleep, just like that.
And if he starts purring, Mack says nothing about it once he wakes up.
Mack also doesn’t ask him about why he doesn’t have a nest, even though the question has been at the tip of his tongue for a while. Or about the fact that Will just almost dropped because he was freaked out about Mack being mad at him for taking his hoodie.