smythe

Connor doesn't know anything about pianos. He knows Fraser can't stay the night because he has to practice.

Those two facts become very expensive.

He passes Fraser's favorite candy in the store and it stings that he knows theres no point in him buying it for a boyfriend that can no long receive them. Fraser's all the way in Boston and Connor is stuck moping in Chicago every time he sees a book, mug, hat or even a pen he knows Fraser would like. Sometimes he buys the items anyways, it's something for him to look forward to the next time he sees his boyfriend. But the waiting is killing him. He's the type to buy a gift and immediately want to tell the person what he got them. He's practicing a lot of self restraint by not immediately snapping a photo of his small gifts and sending them to Fraser.

What he missed most though was surprising Fraser with flowers. Fraser told him once, whispering to him in bed, they were his favorite thing to receive from Connor. He had sounded embarrassed about it but nothing could stop the warmth that flooded Connor's chest at the admission. Connors also couldn't fight the small, smug smile that found his way onto his face because his suspicion was correct; Fraser was the kind of guy that liked receiving flowers but would never ask for them.

All that to say, it kills Connor that he can't give flowers to Fraser during the season. Until he remembers he can. Online ordering exists. He knows Frasers address, favorite flowers, and his schedule to know when he would be home to receive them. Connor can't believe he forgot about ordering things to Frasers apartment as a surprise. And soon he can't help himself; he's ordering congratulatory flowers every time Fraser has a good game and his favorite candy and flowers every time he has a less than stellar one. It gets out of control fairly quick, Connor doesn't realize how many times he clicks the 'place order' button on his phone, confirming another impromptu gift. Fraser could send him a picture of the book he's reading and Connor wouldn't be able to fight the urge to hit the 'order again' button. It's become wired into Connors brain to send flowers anytime he feels affection towards Fraser.

Fraser is actually starting to get freaked out. His apartment has more flowers than he has vases and he has no clue where or who they are coming from. Whoever is sending them never leaves a name (Connor has never realized that the text box on the order page is for writing a message) and at this point, Fraser is a little paranoid he has a stalker. A stalker that knows his favorite flowers, candy, tea, and even candle scent (Yes, one bouquet did come with a candle. The nice kind that Fraser feels a little ridiculous spending money on and if it's currently burning in his living room thats no ones business but his own), but a stalker nonetheless. But he's also pretty sure his stalker is his boyfriend in Chicago. Something in him refuses to ask, a part of him afraid that if he points it out, the flowers will arrive less frequently. However, his suspicions are laid to rest when he gets his confirmation in the form of a text weeks later from his boyfriend:

No, Sarah. They’re childhood lovers who’s on their long distance relationship era to build their own future but also still very supportive of each other’s and they WILL play in the same team AGAIN in the future, mark my word.

lucy & schroeder but bedmint :)

he posts about nesting. has gone viral multiple times for having the internet's most aesthetic nest.

he gives advice on spending heats alone. is always sponsored by sex toy brands. posts tasteful sexy brand deal mirror selfies in his new lingerie sets.

he's sought after. is constantly hounded in his comments by alphas. has a big community of omegas who defend him constantly, showering him with compliments and these he replies to but all the alphas go ignored.

and then suddenly, he posts a picture on his insta: another mirror selfie, the pleased, glowing flash of his green eyes all you can see of him as he peeks over wide, tan shoulders. the person holding him in the picture is not visible enough to place. all that can be seen of him is the back of his head (blonde messy curls, probably mussed from sleep... or sex), a thin chain looped over the back of his neck and the width of his shoulders. one of mack's arms is slung over one shoulder, and the other holds the phone taking the picture.

the internet freaks out when the internet's darling, desired omega is spotted at a san jose shark's game wearing a teal jersey with the number 2 on the back. declaring smith's ownership of him in black and white. yeah, it's not hard to put the pieces together.

hockey player alpha will smith who takes questions from the media after the game, his gaze constantly flitting off to the side, a barely concealed smug smile on his face. they ask: 'looks like you had a famous fan in the crowd cheering for you tonight, will. you're popular with the omegas, aren't you?'

will's smirk softens as he shrugs and replies: 'i don't care about all that. only need to be popular with the one that matters.'

he's looking past the cameras at mack as he says it, of course. mack who is leaning against the wall, waiting for his alpha to finish up so they can go home together. mack, who melts at will's words. will can probably scent in the air that mack's riled up from watching him play, from seeing him now - curls damp, expression serious and cheeks flushed from exertion.

the next morning, mack posts a photo on tumblr because it's where he can be his most honest and freakiest.

the photo is of him on his front in his bed. his usually neat nest looks rumpled around him. it's a provocative image for sure. because he's on his elbows and knees, that much is obvious despite the picture being cropped above the hips, his face turned toward the camera, looking over his shoulder at whoever is taking the picture with a look so dewy and serene it should be illegal. and it's obvious who is taking the picture. because there's a hand on mack's back, smoothing out the fabric of the jersey he's still wearing so it's not creased, so it's obvious: SMITH, 2.

the photo is simply captioned: number 1 fan 🤍

── .✦

they’ve been dating for yeeaarrrrsss now, since they were like 16 but never publicly bc connor was going to the nhl and fraser knew that being gay and professional hockey player was just asking for trouble so they grew up super private about it

fraser is a music student at depaul in chicago and only committed after connor got drafted to the blackhawks so they could still be together. they’ve lived in the same apartment the whole time they’ve been in chicago and it’s honestly a miracle no one in their lives have figured it out but it’s mostly bc fraser doesn’t really talk about connor with his friends and connor just uses the excuse “oh fraser was already going to college here and we knew each other from home so it was just easier to live together” and hockey players are stupid and wouldn’t immediately assume gay so they get away with it.

after a few years connor starts to feel really really bad about fraser having to hide most of his personal life from his friends even though fraser is completely understanding and would never ever want to push connor into coming out before he wants to, but connor does want to and so they start to drop little hints

fraser’s already pretty active on social media, posting videos of him playing piano and talking about his classes and stuff and while connor is chronically online, he really never posts. so they both start to leave little trails of each other— fraser starts talking about the blackhawks and how he loves going to games and really specific things that casual fans probs wouldn’t know; connor starts posting littler things of him wearing fraser’s clothes and stuff that directly ties him to depaul and music

and they just sort of wait for people online to piece it together while connor tells him team and the front office and fraser finally gets to talk about his boyfriend to his friends and it goes great!!

psa this photo is just below his rcm certificates

+ bonus minten playing sonata no. 16