•Captain Dimples•

will: did i mess it up?

mack: yeah messed it up big time.

will: *donkey laugh*

it’s the way they chose to wear each other’s jerseys, the way they chose to post that edit reel, the way they chose to plaster themselves so close together on the ice, the way they chose to match for two halloweens in a row and a team christmas party, the way they chose to put their initials together for an account name like teenage girls giggling at a sleepover, the way they chose to be known as the unit they are.

the unique rightness of “willandmack” being said in the same breath doesn’t come from awestruck announcers or their pr managers’ keen eyes or the loving gaze of the thousands of fans they’ve accumulated. it comes from will and mack, two souls so closely intertwined that it’s impossible to discern where one ends and one starts, just the way they always intended.

that podcast clip of toff saying they need each other, that clip of colleen smith saying they never get sick of each other, rick celebrini saying will is his son’s release, will saying they just have fun and mack saying robyn is so happy for them to just be having fun, the sharks making sure everyone knows they’re lost without each other and have a connection incomparable to anything else :’)

this poor man probably strained his shoulder waiting for mack to peel his eyes off his crush/newly found soulmate for ONE second to look where he was pointing

(spoiler alert and to absolutely no one’s surprise: he in fact did not peel his eyes away, he followed Will to know where to go 😭)

“Yeah🥺!!”

but as i think about it, i wanna say no, it’s not just that, he also constantly talks, just like how he is on the ice. if he’s not directing will, then he’s simply praising and encouraging. it’s a litany of “yes, right there, fuck me, harder. so good, please don’t stop—god, fuck, i love you so much.” even when it gets too much and he’s close to coming it’ll be a chain of will’s name or the simple frantic yes! don’t stop. and at its worse, his words would be jumbled together it sounds like nonsense but he. Won’t. Stop. Talking! and will fucking loves it. loves that mack is so out of it he loses all brain to mouth filter and spills whatever he feels, loves that mack sings for him, and it spurs him on further. to hear mack struggling to express how good will makes him feel, how full, how much he loves his cock and how he can never get tired of it, all slurred and muffled in the sheets or will's neck.

and the thing is, will listens. he follows mack’s directions, adjusts his thrusts, his angle, rhythm, with the goal of rendering mack’s vocabulary to two words only: Yes, and his name. will can even edge him for ages by the guidance of his words and tone. now he knows that mack is close when it sounds like his tongue is too heavy and his words are whimpery, and knows they backed away enough when it turned breathy and groany. at the end of it, will basically plays him like a skilled musician.