M Juice

he lets himself wonder about the intricacies of loving someone in such a profound way, that you know, with terrifying certainty, that you would give up your own life for them. that you would do everything that is in your power just to be graced with the weight of their eyes meeting yours, to be the receiver of their attention, to be worthy of their love.

there is something so uniquely devotional in the act of letting someone see you, for all that you are. of baring yourself for their eyes to scrutinise, to break apart and decide whether or not you are worthy of them. of wether they will let their gaze flutter away from everything that makes you what you are, from all the broken parts that never truly fit right and that you try in vain to hide, or if they will keep looking at you, their eyes softening in recognition, in the kind of quiet acceptance that feels strangely like belonging. there is something so deeply pious in the act of letting someone witness all your jagged edges and watching them hold them close to their heart, as if they’re something precious, to be protected. so alike stumbling to your knees in front of god when your time has come and asking, “did i do everything you asked of me? was i enough to be warranted your grace, your kindness and your forgiveness? was i the man you guided me to become?”

mack has never once looked away from will, has never once faltered in the face of the parts of will he’s always meticulously hidden away, of the weight of his own shame. mack has always welcomed each and every part of will with open arms, has, for some reason unbeknownst to will, always graced him with unwavering understanding and stood unmoving in the face of will’s every wrongdoing. like a god looking down upon one of his children and accepting their desperate attempt at atonement.

love is an act of faith in its own way, and as will lets his gaze run over mack’s sleeping form, illuminated by the faint moonlight seeping through the cracks in the blinds, feels the grounding way mack’s chest expands with each breath that fans out of his rosy lips into the crook of will’s neck, will knows, with terrifying clarity, that god fabricated mack just for him.

sometimes, when he wakes up in the middle of the night, arms unconsciously tightening around mack’s body just to make sure that he’s still there, that he hasn’t slipped away from will’s grasp, he even lets himself think that mack is the personification of his own guardian angel. a sacred and godgiven being made specifically for will to devote himself to, his to cherish and worship the way god intended.

mack is altar of will’s salvation and the epitome of his faith all at once. the one he prays to for forgiveness, his only surefire way to god’s grace.

will doesn’t think mack could ever truly understand the extent of will’s devotion to him, how much of will’s he holds in the palm of his hands.

he doesn’t think mack needs to understand to love him back just as fiercely, in his very own way, so dissimilar to will’s but so close all the same.

mack once told him that he wanted to crawl inside of will’s skin and burrow into his ribcage, make himself a home alongside his heart and stay there forever.

will had laughed, then, disbelieving in the face of so much love directed at him.

he didn’t tell mack that he was already living there, in between cells and running through his bloodstream like the world’s most powerful drug. that he had wormed his way into will’s being the very first time their eyes had met across the eyes all those years ago, before he could even understand what any of it meant. that mack had belonged there all along, simply waiting for will to realise it and recognise god’s gift for what it was.