#devilssacrament

Luke immediately abandons his suitcase right next the door in favour of taking look around, his jaw drop a little at the sight. Brett had said he'd book them a holiday home, he hadn't said that he'd book them a really fucking nice holiday home. The place looks like it's straight out of a magazine, spacious and nicely furnished with a huge fire place taking up one wall of the living room. His really boyfriend had to go all out, as if the idea of a little getaway with just the two of them wasn't filling Luke with enough excitement already.

They finally get to be far away from annoying brothers and team mates they need to be quiet for, far away from any reason to hide their relationship. And, Luke thinks with a weird feeling settling in his stomach, far away from Brett's family. At least for now. While Luke is excited about getting to spend the holidays with Pesces, having Brett introduce him to everyone as his boyfriend does make Luke nervous no matter how much Brett promises that his family is going to love him. Well, safe for aunt Susan, apparently, but nobody really cares about her opinion anyway.

"So what do you say?" Brett asks, a grin on his face as he steps into the living room and spreads out his arms like he built the place himself.

"Show-off," Luke chirps him, watching as his boyfriend's smile grows even wider. Before Brett can make him admit that the place is really fucking nice, Luke decides to cross the distance between them and shut Brett up with a kiss. While it does keep his boyfriend quiet, it fails to wipe out the the way too self-satisfied and way too fond look of 'I'd lay the world down at your feet if you asked' that Luke is still struggling to handle. "It's a bit cold though."

"Yeah, let me just-" Brett looks around, quickly spotting a radiator. He rudely pulls away from Luke to go and turn up the heat but-

"Shouldn't it like make noises or something?"

"I guess?" They look at each other and, like on command, both step closer, leaning down to each press an ear against the radiator. But they could hear a penny drop in the silence that follows. Brett snorts at the display they're making, his nose scrunching up in that way that always has butterflies stir in Luke's stomach.

"What now?" Luke asks as they're standing up straight again. "Our cosy retreat isn't going to get very cosy if we freeze to death."

"I thought Jack was the one running cold in your family?" Brett teases and Luke- Luke wants to kiss him into silence, wants to shove his fingers deep inside Brett's hole and make him moan instead, anything so he doesn't have to think about how fucking fond he feels when his boyfriend teases him like this. One day he'll learn to live with all these feelings that feel too big for his chest, with the overwhelming nature of being in love — and in a relationship — with one Brett Pesce. But the day is not today and unfortunately not tomorrow either and Luke isn't entirely sure he can even say that day coming.

So for now, he settles for the only tactic that reliably gets him through these situations: petulance.

"Fuck off, there's a difference between being a human icicle and feeling a bit chilly in a house without heating." And the thing is he knows Brett can see right through it, can read him like a book and is only choosing to stay silent to help him safe face, patiently waiting for the hard shell to unravel because Brett just has to be perfect like that. Luke clears his throat, croaking out "What about the fire place?" just to hopefully get his mind from endlessly spinning around his boyfriend.

"I was told it was mostly decorative, but I guess it could keep the living room warm at least? Not sure how much it will do for the bedrooms upstairs. I don't know, let's just turn up all the radiators and then we'll see if anything works. If not I'll have to make a call and get them to send someone to fix the heating."

Luke accepts that without arguing and so they set off then, turning up every radiator they can find around the house. It's not quite the room tour either of them had imagined, but right now not freezing their fingers off has priority. Unfortunately, not a single radiator makes any kind of noise or gives another sign of life. The entire house stays just as cold as when they first walked in.

So Brett makes the call, but Luke can already tell by the look on his face that the news aren't going to be good. His fears are confirmed when Brett eventually hangs up with a heavy sigh. "They're sending someone over, but it might take a while." Brett pockets his phone and steps closer, wrapping his arms around Luke before kissing him. "Guess we'll have to make a fire and cuddle to stay warm?"

Luke gives Brett another lingering kiss, already mourning their lack of privacy until they can get the heating fixed. "I was hoping we would have lost a few layers of clothing by the time the cuddling starts."

He lets his fingers dance along the buttons of Brett's coat to make his point extra clear. But Brett stays unimpressed, only getting a hold of Luke's hand and lifting it up to place a kiss on his knuckles. "Baby, I love you to the moon and back, but I'm not undressing in these temperatures."

"Who's running cold now?" Luke can't help but smile at the breathless chuckle and shake of the head he gets in return. "Maybe we can build a blanket fort to keep us warm?"

For a moment Brett stays silent, simply looking Luke over with those fond eyes. "It's been ages since I last built a blanket fort." His voice is quiet, almost in awe in a way that tells Luke Brett is currently revisiting some childhood memories. It's a cute fantasy, Brett as a kid building a blanket fort with friends, laughing when the construction inevitably collapses on them and they're left trying to wriggle out of a pile of blankets.

"All the more reason to do it."

"Okay, I'm sold." Brett slides his hand into the back of Luke's neck and pulls him in for another kiss. "I'll take care of the fire and you gather everything we need for the fort?"

"Deal."

By the time Luke has gathered all the supplies — including every single sheet and blanket the house had to offer — a nice little fire is crackling in the fireplace. Brett greets him back in the living room with a quick kiss and a critical look around what is soon going to be their blanket fort. "You sure we need all that?"

"For a regular fort, no. But you know my brothers, building a blanket fort was like a competitive sport when we were kids."

"Of course it was." Brett picks up the rope Luke found in one of the kitchen cabinets, his face taking on a seriousness and determination he usually only displays on the ice. "Tell me what to do."

Grinning, Luke begins to put his plan into action. The living room is equipped with three sofas arranged in a u-shape around a fluffy carpet and a simplistic couch table. Getting said couch table out of the way is the least of tasks, even if Luke mourns the fact that Brett isn't sleeveless as he picks the whole thing up and carries it to the other side of the living room. Pushing the sofas together is obviously a bit more difficult and again, Luke wishes he could watch his boyfriend's muscles at work. But finding a place to tie down the ropes proves to be the most complicated of undertakings. With a lot of creativity — and a few prayers that they're not going to end up breaking any of the furniture — they eventually manage to span two ropes across the backs of the couches. Next up are layers upon layers of sheets and blankets, Brett's eyebrows inching higher up on his forehead with every blanket they add. But by the end of it they have a solid roof that is going to trap as much warmth as possible. The thickest blankets they layer on top of the carpet before laying out pillows until they've created a nice little nest, closed off on three sides by the couches with the entrance facing the happily dancing flames inside the fire place.

Luke is sweating more than just a little bit by the time he and Brett finally collapse inside their blanket fort. He didn't quite remember the construction process to be this exhausting. At least he's not the only one affected; when he looks over to Brett, his boyfriend's chest is heaving with heavy breaths. Luke watches the movement, swallowing around the lump in his throat. It's almost unfair how the smallest thing Brett does has Luke feel weak in the knees, every smile, every scrunch of his nose, every rapid blink of his eyes, every hand he ruffles through Luke's hair, every fucking laboured breath he takes.

Just then, Brett starts unbuttoning his coat and Luke has to hold back a groan at the idea of finally getting them out of all these layers. "The blanket fort keeping us warm is working better than expected," Brett laughs out, sitting up to shrug out of his coat. Luke barely waits until Brett has tossed aside his beanie and his scarf before pushing him down and rolling halfway on top of him. The only real light inside their fort is coming from the fire place in front of them and it's bathing Brett in a soft warm light that flickers across his face and highlights his features in a way that has Luke thanking every deity in existence that he gets to be with this man.

When Luke finally leans down to capture Brett's lips in a kiss, the latter doesn't hesitate to pull Luke closer and lick into his mouth. It takes some fumbling to get Luke out of his jacket as well, especially when neither of them is ready to stop kissing. Though when Luke's right arm just won't get out of his sleeve, he begrudgingly pulls back to get rid of his jacket, hastily getting it out of the way.

When he looks down, Brett is watching him like this is the first time they're undressing in front of each other, like they don't share a locker room, a shower, a bed. "Fuck, I really can't wait to get you out of those clothes already," he groans while pulling Luke closer again.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Luke moves down to kiss down Brett's neck, his hands already pushing up Brett's hoodie when Brett tugs him back with a hand in his curls. "The maintenance guy could be here any minute."

"So?" Luke moves to straddle Brett's lap, knowing exactly how easily his boyfriend's resolve tends to crumble when he has Luke on top of himself. "We'll make it quick."

Brett curses under his breath while pulling Luke in again, kissing him with all he's got. The need to finally touch his boyfriend feels like it's burning Luke up from the inside; he quickly gets a hand between them again, pulling Brett's sweatpants down just enough to wrap a hand around his cock.

A breathless gasp is lost in their kiss, Brett's hold on Luke's hair turning tighter when Luke starts stroking him. Luke doesn't linger for long, pressing a last kiss to the corner of Brett's mouth before he moves down. He kissing along the sliver of exposed skin where he pushed up Brett's hoodie as he works on pulling his pants down when a loud knocking rings through the room. They groan at the same time, Luke letting his head drop down on Brett's abdomen as Brett's hand slips out of his curls. "Couldn't the damn maintenance guy take a few minutes longer?"

"I'm so fucking you in our fort the moment this guy is out the door," Luke announces as he's flopping down on his back and staring at the blankets above him. Brett giggles to himself and Luke can perfectly picture what he looks like right now — his hair a little dishevelled, clothes hastily straightened to hide that he's still half-hard and with the happiest grin on his face. Luke sighs, closing his eyes while he lets the low cracking and hissing of the fire place and Brett's voice in the distance wash over him, counting the seconds until they get to be alone again.

"What? What do you want, you little goblin, it's like one in the morning, I'm trying to sleep."

His voice is low and hoarse and a shocking sound in the dark. Will winces at the creakiness of his vocal cords, dry from probably sleeping with his mouth open again. He sits up and smacks his lips, feeling blindly along the nightstand for his water bottle.

A whuff of a sigh, and then Mack's voice is there again.

Excuse me, you're the one who woke me up first. You were dreaming of something, and there was like, running and falling and something really noisy involved except you weren't really running, because in dreams it's like, impossible to run. It was kinda frustrating.

A dream? Will didn't even realize he'd been dreaming.

"Well, sorry, man, it's not like I can control any of that," he volleys back, taking quick sips between words. "I have no say over what my brain likes to think."

Nuh-uh. Some people can control their dreams, I've heard of it! Flaccid dreaming, or whatever it's called.

"Lucid dreaming, you idiot," Will snorts, the unexpected choice of words startling a laugh out of him. "Jesus Christ, man."

Mack makes some kind of disgruntled rumble. Yeah, yeah, lucid, flaccid, placid, we can all list rhyming words.

He hears some more rustling that must be Mack rolling over to get comfortable, because Will's sitting still, the bottom of this bottle cradled in his open palm, leaning up against the headboard. He could turn on a light, but it feels better like this, to be still and unseen, with the exception of his words puncturing the empty room over a one-sided conversation.

It's funny, because he didn't talk out loud through soulbonds like this before. With his parents, with Grace, and a few rare friends here and there, he's always kept the conversations going in the privacy of his own mind, floating back and forth as he carried on with school or practice or chores.

And then Mack came along, practically bulldozed his way into a larger-than-life, nearly all-encompassing soulbond thread at the very center of Will's mind, and the next thing he knows he's talking out loud at the grocery store while people send curious stares his way.

Because of course Mack talks through the soulbond out loud, like it doesn't matter if everyone around them gets a one-sided scoop into their private, telepathic conversations. Sometimes, Will wonders if he started talking out loud too just so he could go toe-to-toe with the unfiltered energy Mack happily pushes through the bond.

You nervous, or something? Some more shifting, and maybe the sound of a lamp being flicked on, like Mack's planning on staying awake to talk to him. You don't usually dream this much.

"It's the World Champs. You try not being nervous."

Psh, you know what I mean. It's fine if you are though, I get that. Kinda wild we're both here in Sweden at the same time, but on different teams.

"Yeah." Will slide further down into the pillows, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling. He imagines the span of open ice before him, red and white opposing jerseys skating over the lines, a familiar face with a familiar smile coming at him from a whole new position. "Are you...how you think you're gonna do?"

Mack doesn't miss a beat. Gold or nothaaang, baby.

Will rolls his eyes and grins, returning the bottle to the nightstand and scooting back down under the covers. "In your dorky little dreams, Celebrini."

This time, he feels more than he hears the little puff of air that is Mack's laugh.

Not the one he brays when Will says something so out of pocket it makes Toff look like he's genuinely considering retirement, or the one that he cackles through like a crow until he's wheezing for air and slapping at Will's arm. This one is softer, more personal, and appears only when Mack seems utterly endeared by whoever or whatever it is that's making him laugh.

(But this whole feeling thing—little unexpected phantom bumps and nudges on his arms or legs, the sudden scent of familiar drugstore deodorant, the faintest warmth of Mack's literal body heat—Will's never heard of a soulbond growing strong enough to progress beyond just hearing a partner's surroundings.)

(And as far as he can tell, he's the only one experiencing this between the two of them, because lord knows if Mack could suddenly feel Will's hand on his shoulder or whatever, he would never, ever shut up about it.)

Suddenly, Will's not sure he can handle any part of this revelation right now.

"Shouldn't we go to bed?" He asks hurriedly. "It's like—holy shit, it's almost two in the morning already."

Okay there, grandpa man. Didn't think you were such a stickler for time, but I could use a nap. You tucking in?

"I've been tucked in. You're the one who woke me up."

Me! You were—oh, whatever. Shut up and go to bed, Smitty. Need you in tip-top shape when we whoop your ass tomorrow.

"You absolutely fucking wish. Should we even be talking like this? Isn't this like, fraternizing with the enemy?

Nah. He can almost see the way Mack grins at that, face smushed into one of this many pillows, fist tucked into his chest and eyes half-lidded with sleep. I always sleep better when you're next to me. You're just being nice, 'cause you're a nice dude.

Will swallows, throat suddenly tight. "We're not technically next to each other."

No, but the thought counts, doesn't it? Besides, you care about me loads, more than you care about a tournament, right?

It's said teasingly, hardly anything serious, but the way Will's chest squeezes tight it certainly doesn't feel like any of this is nothing. It could just be him. It might just be him. And what is all that supposed to mean, anyway?

Buck doesn’t know how much longer he can take this. His leg keeps bouncing, he’s gulping down food at a concerning rate and his gaze is going anywhere but to his left to avoid giving them away. When he agreed to keep his relationship with Eddie a secret, he hadn’t considered just how hard it would be to keep his hands to himself. Buck just barely hides his smile against the edge of his cup; he really can’t stop himself from smiling whenever he remembers that Eddie is actually his boyfriend now. But he needs to get himself under control. They love the 118, but Eddie isn’t ready for them to know about everything just yet-

When Buck tries to find a different spot to look at, his gaze accidentally meets Hen’s and Buck freezes. Hen’s brow is raised and she’s looking him over, clearly sensing that something is up. Shit, Buck should have known that she’d look right through him. He needs to act natural and he needs to do it fast. They can’t have Hen asking questions he and Eddie aren’t willing to answer yet. Before Buck can further embarrass himself, he feels a little nudge against his left thigh. Buck holds his breath when Eddie’s hand slips into his own. He looks at Eddie, but his boyfriend doesn’t acknowledge him safe for the amused grin ever so slightly tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Slowly, the tension melts away. The need to do more, to shift closer, to kiss Eddie doesn’t go away, but it becomes less all-consuming, a little easier to handle. Buck slips his fingers through Eddie’s, squeezing Eddie’s hand as his racing mind slows down. Their shift only lasts a few more hours and then they can go home, get comfortable on the couch with a beer, Buck wrapped up in Eddie’s arms.

You’d think after being friends for years, they’d be more laid back about being close without giving away that they’re a couple now. But maybe it’s exactly because of how long it took them to get their shit together that they’re so desperate to be close now. After Buck found out he’s attracted to men, the realisation that he has feelings for Eddie had been so close he could taste it on his tongue whenever he thought about Eddie. 

And yet. 

In hindsight, Buck could slap himself for how he kept forcefully pushing his feelings down. Maybe if he had admitted to himself that he’s in love with Eddie sooner, they could be together for years already. Or at least that’s what he tells himself to feel better. Realistically, he would have pined after Eddie for years instead of weeks if he’d known earlier. Buck has a hard time imagining himself ever making the first move with Eddie; he would have been way too anxious, way too focused on the fact that he can’t lose Eddie no matter the cost.

Good thing Eddie took care of that. It was difficult for him too, Buck could tell. He’s never seen Eddie this nervous before. At the same time, Eddie couldn’t wipe the smile off his face while telling Buck that he has fallen in love with him. Buck will never forget the look on Eddie’s face, overflowing with relief and joy.

Tears are pricking in Mack’s eyes as he runs out into the night. He doesn’t care where he’s going, doesn’t care that it’s pouring like the end of the world is near as long as he just gets away from that fucking hotel bar. Maybe if he just gets far away enough his brain will stop replaying that fucking scene over and over and over again. That girl all over Will, laughing like every other word from Will is the funniest thing she’s ever heard, touching him any chance she gets, leaning in close-

Mack shakes his head against the images, the tears streaming down his face by now. He collides with someone in his rush but just keeps walking, can’t even hear the sound of their swearing over his own thoughts. Why did he have to see that? If he just hadn’t looked their way in that moment- As if he’s been looking anywhere else since he returned from the bathroom to find Will sitting at the bar with that girl, not paying attention to anyone or anything else.

“Mack!” A familiar voice yells behind Mack. Fuck, why is Will following him? Mack tries to speed up, get away from the sound of Will’s voice – he wants to think about literally anything except Will right now – but Will has already caught up to him. There’s nothing Mack can do as Will circles him, keeping Mack in place with his hands on Mack’s arms. Will’s hair has gotten wet already and Mack focuses on the rain dripping off his curls just so he doesn’t have to see the pity on Will’s face.

“For fuck’s sake, why are you running away?”

Mack shrugs, doesn’t know what to say that doesn’t involve his heart having just been trampled on. “I figured you could use some privacy.”

The frustration audible in Will’s groan is entirely uncalled for. “She’s an old classmate of mine. I just wanted to catch up a little, nothing more.”

“I fucking saw her kiss you!”

“No, you saw her try to kiss me,” Will grits out. “I pushed her away just in time to watch you flee the scene.”

Oh.

Mack finally dares to lift his gaze to actually look at Will, the wet curls sticking to Will’s face, the water dripping from his chin, his eyes never leaving Mack. It’s actually unfair how pretty Will is right now, drenched to the bone in the dim street lights; Mack is pretty sure he himself must be looking like an abandoned dog.

“Why did you stop her? She was totally into you. You could have her in our room by now.” Mack doesn’t know what pushed him to say that, why he seems to be so adamant on pushing the knife deeper into his own chest.

Will’s only answer is shaking his head. “How did you ever make it into college?”

“What does that have to do wi-” Will doesn’t let him finish, reducing the remaining words to a quiet whimper with his lips on Mack’s. The kiss ends before Mack even realises it has started, but Mack isn’t about to let Will pull back. He keeps Will close by the front of his shirt and kisses him, lingering for longer than Will did. Will’s lips moving against his own erases all thoughts from Mack’s brain, eliminates the rain pouring down on them and the noise of cars passing them. The entire world shrinks down to Will’s mouth, to Will’s arms wrapping around Mack and bringing them closer until no space is left between them, to the way the tension leaves Will’s body while he sinks deeper and deeper into their kiss.

Will is smiling when they separate, leaning his forehead against Mack’s and sighing in relief. “You get it now or do I need to spell it out for Mr. ‘I had real classes in college’?”

“I think I got it, yeah.”

“Alright then let’s take this back to the hotel. I have a swimming pool in my shoes.”