comets!!

also: goalie lover, ned and asky deserve the world and more!

and twenty dollars are twenty dollars until a guy is talking misa up at some bar they’re not supposed to be at anyway so sam has to go rescue misa because he’s getting that glazed look in his eyes sam seems to be the only one to notice and his hand feels like a brand when it slips around misa’s waist and sam is the perfect amount of polite when he tells the guy to kick rocks

and then misa is running his tongue over his teeth and sam is almost positive he can already taste the shirley temple misa had when he turns to him and tilts his head as says: “wanna make out in the bathroom?”

gabe can hear will and leno going at it, words twisted with the type of vitriol only alcohol can bring out. they had disappeared at some point, one after the other and when they didn’t come back, gabe knew they were fighting.

he thinks of their last days in bc, when will told them he was leaving and gabe had nodded because he knew. he knew when the buzzer echoed across the rink and the devastation had settled heavy in his chest. he knew when he saw will looking at the score like if he could change it by sheer force.

he knew when macklin celebrini went first overall for the sharks.

will had dreams bigger than the burgundy and gold jerseys, dreams bigger than a national championship in the ncaa, dreams that didn’t involve him or leno or fowler or voter and anyone in between. it was the same dream as his and leno’s, but his dream had developed, centered around a boy with a too big smile and sea-green eyes.

the arguing escalates and gabe is tired of stepping in the middle of them, of leno’s vitriol and will’s forced apathy. he used to jump in the middle, soothe both of them until they could stand to be in the same room as each other.

the walls seem to shake as the bed shifts beside him, a hand carelessly hitting him before mack frowns. he was a surprise, trailing in behind will with a nervous look on his face.

gabe doesn’t really care of what mack and will have going on; he had will first, him and leno had him before mack.

“are they fighting?” mack asks, voice heavy with sleep and it reminds gabe of the mack he played against while in bc. mack with his tooth gap and larger-than-life hockey abilities. gabe also knows, briefly, the mack before he became the next sidney crosby, the savior of the sharks.

it’s also the same mack from marmon, with a newspaper boy hat, sunglasses that weren’t his and flushed cheeks and giggly, draped over will and gabe like it was nothing, like if leno wasn’t itching to reach over and shove mack away, a metaphoric dog circling them, protecting something he thinks is still his.

“yeah.” gabe mutters, eyeing the door like will or leno will bulldoze through it.

mack moves to get up and gabe grabs at him, “don’t.”

he gives gabe a strange look, his eyes drifting to where gabe’s hand is wrapped around his wrist. gabe doesn’t let go, pulls him down until he’s laid beside him again.

for as long as he can remember, he had to pick a side, the deciding vote in their trio. it made leno huffy when he chose will, will would frown, tilt his head as if he could change gabe’s mind with a single glance when gabe went with whatever leno wanted.

he chooses himself, in the room he always slept in when they came down to the cap, in the same bed he shared with will where they had exchanged kisses and handies and swapped promises like they meant something real and tangible and not something you say when the heat in your stomach bursts and their name is a prayer on your lips.

gabe has something real and tangible in new york, in his small two bedroom apartment that cost an arm and leg but has a nice view of the city at night and gloomy early mornings. he has the vets that adore him and praise him when he puts in the effort and results starts to show even as late as they did in the season.

he’ll have drew beside him and he has this thing with remps he wants to try and make work and he doesn’t have time to wonder if leno and will are going to have twisted hate sex like they do every time they met up. if fowler was here, he would’ve dragged gabe away, sit on him if he had to to stop him from trying to put the broken pieces together.

he looks over at mack who is staring at the ceiling, gabe’s hand still wrapped around his wrist. he thinks of letting go, but it feels like if he lets go of mack, then he lets go of will and his brain still can’t part with that, so he tugs at mack until he gets the hint and then they’re sneaking across the house and down to the beach.

mack is quiet as they sit on the sand, head bowed back as he leans on his elbows, long body stretched out in front of him. gabe sits with his knees tucked to his chest, his head resting on his knees as he watches the waves roll in.

it’s nice, simply existing in the presence of another person and not feeling like he has to defend will and leno. he spent most of the day acting like a barrier, eyes constantly flitting over their friends to find them, pressed together like if leno’s grip on will still exists and will’s willingness to appease his friend is nothing if not just politeness.

the sun slowly rises, and gabe thinks of what he’s going to do once he gets back to new york. he has the dev camp thing with drew that he did last year with remps, and he has a tentative date with him too. he thinks of the not-dates remps took him out on under the guise of getting to know new york.

mack lets out a huffy sigh, sitting up properly. his shoulder brushes against gabe’s and he’s burrowing his hands into the sand, lifting them up and watching the grains slip through his fingers.

“sorry this is how your fourth ended.” gabe says and mack snorts, a grin beginning to peek at the edges of his mouth.

“i’m canadian, traitor.” he says, “i couldn’t give less of a shit about the fourth, i just wanted to see will.”

it makes gabe laugh even though something small seizes in his chest; he swore himself to red, blue and white, to fifty stars and a dream that died a year ago. he’ll never know what it’s like to wear the maple leaf and play beside the greats of canada that now include mack.

distantly, he hears a door slam shut and the rev of an engine. gabe doesn’t turn to look, simply presses into mack a bit more. will is going to find them soon, blue eyes shiny with tears and nose twitching in effort to not burst into tears because a part of will is always going to love leno, probable-first loves and the devastation that comes with it.

“take will home.” gabe says, “don’t let him text leno.” because leno knows that will always crawls back to him in some way shape or form.

will calls mack’s name, voice shaky despite his effort to keep it steady. gabe turns back to the water and wonders what remps is doing.

mack stands up, brushing the sand off of him, “see you in october.”

gabe nods, waving him away.

mack can keep will, can learn all his soft and squishy sides, can learn what pisses him off and how sweet he can be when he wants something.

sam never really thinks his little hang outs through so sometimes it leaves him alone in misa’s room as he plays whatever game got his attention that week. misa’s bed is comfortable though, with four pillows instead of the regular, normal two and there’s a stuffed animal that could be a bunny sat in the corner of the bed and it looks worse for wear; the faded color has hints of pink, the left ear is shorter than the right one and the nose is rubbed white. he could pick it up, tease mees until he’s red in the face about needing a stuffed animal to sleep, but there’s something heavy in his bones so he spreads himself out on the bed.

his phone buzzes in his pocket but he ignores it even when the buzzing becomes insistent—it’s the old london knights groupchat—and he mutes it when he finally pulls his phone out. briefly he sees messages from cowboy and barks, something about martone and philly and toronto that he ignores in favor of misa turning to him.

misa stares at him, headphones pulled around his neck and hair a mess. he’s tired, he can see it in the way misa slouches forward, barely but sam notices because it’s his job too and the way he blinks slowly, mouth turned down into a frown. it takes another second for sam to realize toff is yelling for them to come and eat or so help me god i will eat this all on my own and the two race downstairs, pushing and shoving at each other until they get to the table

toff still looks a little annoyed when sam pulls misa’s chair closer, their thighs pressed together and elbows bumping as they eat. cat looks amused, crystal blue eyes glistening happy under the dining room lights as sam goes on a tangent about a video he watched about some infrastructure project because he’s weird like that, his whole youtube feed is shows and movie essays, home projects and everything and nothing that makes sense.

misa lets him take control of the conversation, horribly aware of the way he laughs a little too hard and his smile is a little too wide, but sam is sat beside him and not alone in his still-too empty apartment, he’ll go to sleep with a full stomach of a home cooked meal and not whatever he orders.

toff huffs when cat shoves him into the living room, leaving the messy kitchen for them to tackle. sam puts his music on, whatever genre that he’s currently into the crooning sound of artists and lost lovers, of rolling valleys and love that can only exist in the music notes of a song.

except misa loads the dishwasher and sam wipes the table down with a rag and they’re not in a cabin surrounded by green valleys and they’re not ranch hands but two hockey players in the kitchen of their alternate captain and he crowds misa into the corner of the kitchen, mumbling the lyrics of but darlin i could love you well ‘til the roll is called on high into the line of misa’s neck, feels the rush of blood running through his veins, and the urge to bite

toff can see them when he stands up to the bathroom and resists the urge to pull sam away and send him on his way when misa looks content, face smoothed out and looking every bit of an eighteen year old. cat has a knowing expression on his face as he carefully heads to the bathroom.

but also misa having this cute almost hero-worship crush on mack, sam trying to act like he doesn’t care because he’s roomed with mack and knows how he is outside of whatever twisted dynamic he has with will and no mees it’s not at all like us they’re freaks with a capital f and will is really nice to misa when he has questions and will answers them in that straightforward way of his and not in the weird roundabout way sam does when he makes misa wolf for the answer instead

and sam is some weird mean thing with mack because mack enjoys the back and forth bickering that turns into an impromptu wrestling match that they’re 3-4 because sam used will as a distraction to pin mack down

and will tries not to be weird about sam and mack, sam who was captained by mack in worlds and it really was special smit, but i was his captain first yknow and will tries to be normal about the whole thing, but maybe getting drunk and wandering the streets of some european country solidified their relationship or something and will is normal about the whole thing actually fuck you sam

but also mack knowing what it means to sit down in silence and let his thoughts run away from him so he lays on sam’s couch because it’s weirdly more comfortable then the one he has at home and misa is there, drowning in a sharks sweater with the 6 on the chest and thinks of will’s sweater on his bed, the drawstrings frayed at the end because of how much he chews on them and then misa is scooting closer because his thoughts are louder and the chill is threatening to eat him alive

and then sam and will come in, sam being loud and annoying in a way will easily matches and their food is going to get cold so they enter the living room and find their boys wrapped up around each other.

misa is half hidden in mack’s chest, the obnoxious teal blanket he had picked when sam’s bedside drawer broke and they went to ikea and misa had carried the blanket around until sam pulled it from his arms and set it on the conveyer belt and ignored the happy glint in misa’s eyes because he thought of doing something crazy like kissing misa in public

mack barely opens his eyes when he says “if either of you wake him up i will kill you myself” because misa had let out this terrible, pained whimper that made mack’s chest tighten and pulled him closer.

sam knows the feeling as he runs a hand through misa’s hair and he gets a huffy sigh in response. he thinks of buffalo, of calgary where misa snuck into his bed for the first time and minnesota where not even the elation of his first nhl goal was able to keep the chill of the monsters in his mind away and sam had to listen to the quiet whines and not be able to do anything about it.

will pulls him away and they set their food at the island before sitting in front of the couch. will feels the faint brush of mack’s hand at the back of his head as sam puts something on youtube, letting the sounds of the survivor guy trekking through crunchy alaskan snow fill the room.

mack’s fingers go lax and sam’s shoulder pressed against his, his warmth lingering whenever he shifts. he hears misa let out a soft whine, mack’s sleepy coos and sam letting out a little humming sound.

“I think there was a wolf.” Misa says, slamming his locker close. On the other side is Matthew Schaefer, his longtime, childhood friend that absolutely fucking left him deserted last night. He waits for a second, following Schaef ’s gaze to where Viktor Eklund is leaning against a locker, talking to someone.

Suddenly his gaze locks back onto Misa’s, eyes narrowed and the hoodie string dropping from his mouth, “What do you mean a wolf? There haven’t been wolves in California in like, sixty years.”

CHAPTERS

Chapter One

Chapter Two: Enter Will Smith, 17.

Chapter Three