#lenowill

The best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in worse ways. Fredrik Backman, Us Against You (Beartown, #2)

The babies before hearts (and noses) got broken.

explicit / 15.5k will smith/macklin celebrini, will smith/ryan leonard, will smith/tom wilson, will smith/dylan strome, will smith/pierre-luc dubois

winner's room, blowjobs, face-fucking, anal sex, angst

Will is a wishbone. Mack holds one half, Leno the other. Something has to give. Or, the 3 times the Sharks lose to the Capitals and the 1 time the Sharks win.

it’s not even a romantic pairing for me, i find them having a completely platonic relationship and still being complicated as fuck so much more delicious! i know people like to doompost about willeno bc of the seemingly tension-filled public sightings. but that’s it! that’s what really gets me. people like to say that they don’t mean as much to each other but! they have very publicly betrayed each other in the worst ways (mr. teamplayer loyal man being blindsided and abandoned and mr. public relations tightship getting aired out on some fuckass podcast). these are not small deals to either of them. and Yet. they still go out for meals and even went out to that dinner in their last game with each other (don’t ask me for the source i don’t keep track of anything lmao) and they still went out with matching jackets in that beanpot game where leno came to the smith-hockey household after to play with them and to call will’s mother “mom.”

what really gets me about willeno is that they can’t get rid of each other. for better or for worse! you will never get away from the sound of someone who has stuck by you through 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21! and they don’t want to is the thing! even if it never goes back to how it was! even if there is anger or bitterness that linger. the roots are too long and too tangled! someone you loved and was loved by at 9 is someone you loved and was loved by ignorantly, carelessly, and without fear! that kind of love has a built-in forgiveness, for better or for worse! not even time and anger can uproot that. will’s pisces sun and venus ass is a prisoner of nostalgia!!! and there are too many great memories of his childhood and teenage years that has some shape or form of leno in it! and ryan leonard is a perpetual little brother. he will always seek belonging! and he will always be a kicked puppy who comes back! for better or for worse!!!

will and leno have known eachother for so long that they could’ve fallen into this like pseudo relationship, like a whole i’ve known you, you’ve known me for so long, you understand everything i’ve been through, seen me through my awkward moments at age 12, the inclines, the declines, the doubts. you’ve seen me be rebuilt through the horrors of being 14, 15, 16, 17, have experienced everything i have, you are a part of my family, my mother considers you a son, what we have is irreplaceable in my life and nobody can replicate that with me, that’s something you own (side eye to Will Vote but he’s not in my gay shit agenda so he’s just like the cousin friend).

Will’s phone buzzes every 30 seconds, like clockwork. Ryan tries to ignore it, to focus on the speckle of the hotel room ceiling, to just enjoy the warmth of Will still tucked against him, each inhale pressing him closer to his chest. Yet it keeps going, on and on, until Ryan can’t help but ask.

“Is it him?”

The question doesn’t even phase Will, the sound of his fingers clacking against the screen not faltering for a second. “Yeah,” he says, like it’s as obvious as it is. A moment passes before the tapping pauses, smug lilt in his voice as Will asks a question in return.

“Why, you jealous?”

Ryan’s not jealous, not really. He has no reason to be. He’s the one with Will in his bed. Will even asked him first this time, flied across the country, showed up fucking famished for it. Obviously he’s not getting anything satiating enough on the west coast. So it doesn’t really matter, whatever happens when they’re not together.

Yet, the buzzing and clacking away at his screen continues.

“Doesn’t he know you’re with me?” Ryan asks, focusing on keeping his voice steady.

“Yeah,” Will answers, shrugging. “He doesn’t care. We’re not serious.”

He lets himself glance over at Will’s screen, scanning the texts. It’s all nothing, a back and forth about some show that Macklin’s watching, apparently so important that Will can’t put his phone down. It’s all so fucking childish. 

Will doesn’t tell him the specifics of what he does with Macklin, and Ryan doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to know. He can’t even imagine it, really. How they even manage to stop talking long enough to do anything more fun with their mouths. They probably don’t even do anything serious, tangled in each other’s laps, nothing but hands on each other. The sort of shit you do in college dorms and then grow out of.

Buzz. Tap Tap Tap. Buzz.

“Does he even fuck you?” Ryan asks it before he can stop with him, the thought falling off the tip of his tongue. Will laughs properly this time, a guffaw as he twists in the bed, just enough to see Ryan’s face. He grins up at him, eyes sparkling, finally looking anywhere but that damn phone. 

“Since when do we talk about this stuff?”

Ryan doesn’t really want the answer, not anymore, not with Will looking at him like that. Then the phone in Will’s hand buzzes, and Ryan watches his eyes wander away for just too long.

Kissing Will to end a conversation is a cheap tactic, but he’s been using it since they met, so there’s no reason to stop now. Will whines into his mouth, gasping prettily as Ryan kisses down his neck, sucking hard enough that maybe it’ll leave a mark for when he gets back to San Jose. He’s almost forgotten about that annoying, annoying Canadian, when he feels Will’s arm shift, followed by the sound of unlocking his phone.

“Tell your boyfriend you can’t text him back—” He grabs Will’s wrist, pressing it flat to the bed, phone and all, “—because you’re busy getting fucked.”