#macriley

MacTavish went eerily still, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he very slowly lifted his head to look at him. He knew that tone. “Riley,” he warned. “C'mon, only gonna take a second, I swear. You need a break anyway.” MacTavish looked back at the screen, at the words blurring before his eyes, and sighed. At the very least he would get out of this swamp of an office.

“Fine,” he relented, getting up and walking around his desk. He didn't bother asking what Ghost needed help with; he wouldn't tell him anyway.

Riley’s eyes crinkled at the corners and MacTavish stubbornly looked away. “Lead the way then,” he grumbled, and nearly threw the wet towel at him for the cheeky, “Yes, sir,” he got in return but Ghost was already off and he had to hurry to catch up to him as he weaved his way through the base.

When he pulled him around a corner and into what should definitely just be a maintenance closet but definitely wasn't, MacTavish was starting to believe Riley was out to murder him, only to be surprised to find… a mini freezer shoved into the corner between dusty cleaning supplies. “What is this?”

Riley crouched down in front of the freezer, looking at him over his shoulder. “A freezer. Do you have a heat stroke already?” “What? No I–” Ghost reached in and pulled out a handful of ice lollies, holding them up to MacTavish. “Here, take ‘em.”

Now he was feeling like he really had had a heat stroke. “This is the problem you need help with?” Condensed water was dripping down his forearms, adding to his general wetness. Riley stood up and plucked one out of his hands. “You're supposed to eat them,” he said calmly, rolling his balaclava up over his nose to tear it open with his teeth.

“Riley,” MacTavish said, as sternly as he could manage while he was dripping everywhere.

“Fine,” Riley sighed. “See that freezer? Not exactly allowed to own that. Put it here a few weeks ago because look at this place, it's more dust than anything else. Figured the cleaning stuff don't come in here so they won't mind.” He took a bite of his ice. “Well, they did come in today and caught me. Ripped me a new one and told me to get rid of the freezer or they'll throw it in the trash.” He shrugged. “Don't have another place I can put it where it won't be found that also has electricity. So we have about an hour to eat all–” he counted the ice lollies still leaking down MacTavish’s hand, “–sixteen of those. Wasn't keen on getting brain freeze, which is why I need your help. Now get to eating.”

MacTavish blinked. Then blinked again. Then reluctantly opened a lemon flavored ice lolly. Ghost grinned at him, showing off green stained teeth. At first contact with the ice MacTavish nearly collapsed. He'd forgotten what it felt like to not be hot. “Why don't you put them in the freezer in the rec room?” he asked. Ghost just waved him off. “They wouldn't survive five minutes in there and you know it. The rec room fridge is a lawless wasteland.” MacTavish couldn’t argue with that so he just kept eating.

About two ice lollies deep he gave in to Riley’s coaxing and sat down on the floor with him. The concrete was pleasantly cold on his overheated skin and he found his migraine lessening by the second. Ghost was somehow already on his fifth one and MacTavish found himself watching a drop of what was essentially sugar water running down his jaw. “How are you eating those so quickly?” Riley slurped the last of the liquid out of the plastic and shrugged, already reaching for the next one. “They just taste good.”

Knowing that was as good an answer as he was gonna get, MacTavish decided to leave it at that.

—

The last ice lolly disappeared into Riley’s mouth long after MacTavish had tapped out, at serious risk of throwing up. Goosebumps had formed on his skin at some point and his sweat had finally evaporated, leaving him pleasantly cool. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, just for a second. “Why'd you buy a pink freezer?” he asked after a moment of quiet.

“They didn't have black,” Ghost muttered, and MacTavish laughed at the audible disdain in his voice. “So pink was the next best thing?” “Obviously,” came the response, serious as anything. “Obviously,” MacTavish agreed sagely.

—

You hold your full glass of champagne in one hand, as Mac twirls you into him and then away again, toward the target. You release a rather convincing tipsy laugh right as you slam into Gavin Whittaker, your drink, still full to the brim, going everywhere. Just as you hoped it would.

A list of profanities leaves Gavin as he gathers himself and in an instant you’re on him, hands patting down his chest as you spew apologies with a few slurred words to sell the act. "I didn't even see you, I am so sorry." You gather up the lengths of your dress, using it to pat dry the ends of his suit jacket and flashing a little bit of leg in the process to bring his guard down. It works a charm. Gavin Whittaker looks from your legs to your hands, and then to your face. You bat your eyelashes, as sorrowful as you can make them as he takes you in. Pretty girl, pretty dress, all over him along with some champagne.

"Got it," Riley alerts through your earpiece, almost at the same time as you feel a pair of warm hands on your shoulders.

"We should have been paying more attention," Mac says, gently pulling you back and a little closer to him, not quite laying his claim but something like it. "but when she asks me to dance with her, I just can't say no." Mac pulls you back further, tucking you into his side as Gavin Whittaker comes to terms with the fact that the woman that had been climbing over him seconds beforehand is spoken for. Or at least is according to the falsified documents Matty provided before you left the phoenix.

She requested that you and Mac play a newlywed couple at the gala. Lovebirds that can't get enough of each other, spending all their wedding gift money. You had argued that you could work the case under entirely different circumstances, but Matty insisted this was the only way. Just like she had with the last case, and the one before that.

Mac was your best friend, your companionship dating back to childhood, lasting through military days where Mac spent his time as an EOD and you as a Medic. And now you were here, forced almost once a month to play his lover, or girlfriend or wife. You didn't hate it by any means. You were used to being close to him. It was easy playing with his hair while you spied on targets, or letting him trace patterns on your skin while you planted a bug underneath a table.

But your problem arose with just how good you both were at it. At just how easy it was for you to slip into that format, for you to love him and be loved by him in that way. Even if it was an act, at times it didn't feel like it.

The way he held you now, protectively against him as Gavin and his security eyed you closely wasn't an act. At least you knew that much.

"Who am I to stand in the way of a woman and her champagne?" The target says at last, a very false smile crawling onto his lips. You manage a bashful smile back, ducking your head into Mac's chest to feign innocence.

Mac shrugs, "I was thinking the same thing. Is there anything we can do to help with the cleanup?" he gestures to the mans damp suit, most of the liquid soaked up by the ends of your dress. Gavin shakes his head, clearly irritated and wishing for this interaction to be over. "Don't worry about it." He says, before he turns his back on both you and Mac, security enveloping him before anything more can be done.

"Great job guys." It's Matty, ever observant in your earpieces. A breath you didn't know you were holding in blows out of you, and even though Gavin has been ushered away by his guards, Mac presses a kiss to your hair, ever the doting husband. Or maybe that's just him, doting on you.

You become acutely aware of his arm around you, still holding you close even as the coast is clear. "I had no idea you were such a shitty dancer." You say to him, hand coming to rest atop his on your hip to let him know you're aware of his touch.

"Hey," he pinches you gently, never able to hurt you even as a joke. "that shitty dancing got you close enough to feel up Whittaker didn't it?" There's a hint of distain there, as if the thought of you having to do so makes him a little sick. You can read it in his expression, in those eyes.

"I saw that." you give him a gentle slap on chest. "Quit worrying about me, Angus."

His expression instantly changes to one of annoyance. "Please don't call me that."

"Angus." you say again for good measure, reveling in the roll of his eyes.

-

When you're back at the hotel room upstairs from the gala, Mac finally releases his hold on you as you slip into the room. Inside Jack, Riley and Bozer crowd around Riley's computer as they watch the feed she's hacked into.

"Bout time you two lovebirds got out of there." Jack's voice is teasing, as if he knows something you don't. Mac scowls at him as you slip further into the room, kicking off your heels by the couch and collapsing onto it.

"How much longer till they realize they're locked out of their own safe?" you ask, Riley turning her gaze to you.

She and Bozer used the codes you and Mac managed to get to change the password on the safe. And to take out the weapons that were inside. It's bought you a little more time to let the criminals gather, but you won't be able to apprehend them all on your own.

"I'd say they've already realized." Riley nods toward the screen, and sure enough, the security are scattering as Whittaker pulls out his phone from his pocket. He dials a number with frustration on his face.

"How far away is the swat team?" you ask, hiking up the end of your dress a little, so you can fold your legs up underneath you.

"Ten minutes out."

You sigh, and look up away from the screen. You're job is done here then, for the most part. You can feel Mac's eyes on you, warm and familiar. You wonder why he's staring, if he even knows he's doing it. You often catch him lost in thought, his gaze locked onto you quietly. You don't bother to call him out on it.

The group of you wait for the call from Matty to say the S.W.A.T team is in the building, and then you begin packing your things. This case was an easy one, all things considered. Or at least easy for your little crew. You've done much scarier things, and so despite the long hours of surveillance, the flights, interrogations and small fights, you don't feel all that tired.

The flight home isn't any more interesting. You sit at the back of the plane with Riley, while the boys whisper up the front. You don't bother trying to listen in, they're always talking about some nonsense that makes no sense to you. Riley nudges you with her shoulder, and you turn your attention to the woman beside you.

"So, you and Mac seemed pretty close today." of course. You should have seen this coming.

"Were we convincing?" you avoid what she's really implying, trying to keep the focus on the case itself.

"You convinced me. Though you two don't have to try very hard to be believable." she chuckles.

You frown, shuffling up in your seat. "We're just friends." You want your voice to come out stern and final. But it doesn't exactly work that way.

"Does he know that?" Riley glances over your shoulder at the men and when her eyes come back to you there's something accusatory there. "And are you sure you know that?"

You try not to let her words settle, pushing the thought of your feelings for Mac out of your mind. You've known him forever, too long to ruin it with romance. "We're friends. He knows that. I know that."

Riley nods, looking down at the phone in her hand. "Okay." You can tell she doesn't believe you for a second, and you watch her fingers type something out on her screen until you hear a ding from the other end of the plane. You turn to see Jack checking his phone and whip your head back around to Riley.

"Are you and Jack gossiping about this?"

Riley doesn't respond, barely flinches at your accusation. But you know it's true by the way her own phone dings a second later, and you look over your shoulder again to see Jack putting his away.

-

On the other side of the plane Jack is just as much on Mac's case as Riley is on yours.

"Brother, I'm not trying to get in your business, but don't you think it's about time you told her?"

Mac stiffens. He's been watching Jack text Riley for half the flight, knowing something like this was coming sooner or later. "Told her what?" he doesn't have to ask who Jack is talking about. There's no one else it could be.

"Told her you like her, that you wanna kiss that pretty face."

Mac's already shaking his head before Jack has even finished his sentence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do." Jack nudges Mac's foot with his own. He looks toward Bozer for back up and it's now two against one.

"Not gonna lie man, I thought you two were already a thing." Bozer states, an awkward smile hanging from his lips. "I thought you were a thing when we were ten years old, then when we were thirteen, then when we started high school I thought for sure—"

Mac cuts him off, "We were never a thing."

"Well, maybe you should tell her that." Jack mumbles, his gaze flitting between the seats at the back of the plane where you sit, and where Mac resides in front of him.

"She knows we're friends, she's made it clear that's what she wants."

"Ah, so you don't want to be just friends, you're just following orders." Bozer latches onto Mac's almost confession as fast as it comes, Jack grinning ear to ear as Mac fumbles to clear things up.

"That's not what I meant, I just meant that she knows we're friends, I know we're friends. We are just friends."

But he's already put his foot in it now, and there's no way he's getting out.

-

The next case you end up on has you and Mac paired together again. You wander through the halls of a museum with him, pretending to be a couple of lovey-dovey sightseers. You need to find your way to the back office of the museum, and get access to the files under the desk. There should be a USB drive there, if you can make it.

You hold Mac close, one hand wrapped around his arm and the other hand locked with his. He can feel the warmth of your fingers through the fabric of his button up shirt, and wishes there was no barrier between your touch and his skin.

"The office should be just around this corner." you say, nudging him a little to the left to make sure he takes the turn. He just squeezes your hand in his in response, unable to let go.

Just as predicted the door is right there when you turn the corner. There's a large sign on it that reads 'staff only' in bold red lettering. a sign you ignore as soon as you see it.

Once you know the coast is clear you pull away from Mac and open the door, moving inside quickly as to not be detected. Mac enters after you, closing the door gently. Once you hear it click you move right toward the desk at the far side of the room. It's dark brown, wooden, and smells like vanilla incense.

You rummage through the drawers as quick as you can, Mac searching the drawers at the other end of the desk. "Can you see it?" you ask as you close the first drawer and move onto the one below it. Mac grunts, shaking his head. "Nothing yet."

Your time is running out, just like your luck, because in the next second Riley's voice cracks over your earpiece. "There's someone coming you two."

"How close are they?" Mac closes the drawer he was rummaging through, his eyes now on the door. "Close enough that you don't have time to leave. Is there a place inside where you guys can hide?" She sounds stressed, and you know she's trying to find a way to divert the attention of the approaching person as she speaks.

You don't respond, lurching forward to grab Mac's hand and pull him toward a closet near the door.

"You got six seconds guys." Riley's voice is frantic, and you open the closet door and shove Mac inside before you can even think about whether you'll both fit. He pulls you in after him, tugging you tight to his body as he shuts the door to the closet. Just in time. You hear the door to the office open, footsteps soft as they enter the room.

You try to steady your breathing as Mac holds you up, your feet uneven in the small space. You would have fallen right out of the closet by now if it weren't for Mac holding you in place. You try not to breathe, not to make any sound at all.

You're staring at Mac in the darkness of the closet, gripping the fabric of his shirt in your fists. His eyes are soft, melting into yours and you grip him a little tighter as your heart races. You push yourself up as much as you can with such little space to move, and place your lips next to Mac's ear. "Is now a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?" your whisper is so quiet, barely there as footsteps move outside the closet.

Mac's arms wrap around you tighter, and he's so unbelievably warm up close. "I know you are. I've known since you punched Steve Lineman in the face in fifth grade for locking you in the P.E shed."

You don't say anything in response, too afraid of getting caught by whoever's outside. The footsteps begin to move further from the closet and the desk, heading toward the door. You try not to sigh in relief just yet.

One of Mac's hands moves further up your back, splaying out across your shoulder blades and your breath hitches. You want to kiss him you realize. This close, with his hands on you and his eyes looking right in yours. You want to kiss your best friend.

"You guys are in the clear." Riley's voice interrupts your thoughts, and it makes you jump, startled in his arms by the sudden sound of her voice.

Mac doesn't react for a moment, staring at you in the minimal light of the closet. Staring at you in the way he always does when he thinks you aren't looking, except this time you're face to face.

"We should get out of here." your voice is a whisper, despite the fact you don't need to anymore. Mac nods, his hold on you loosening.

"Yeah," he reaches behind you for the closet door and pushes it open, allowing you to step backward out into the light of the room.

You move back toward the desk to continue your search but Mac reaches out, his hand grazing yours. "I got it."

You turn as his hand slides into the pocket of his jeans, and he pulls out the USB drive you had been looking for. He must have just and only found it before you had to hide.

Unable to form words, your thoughts from the closet still running rampant in your head, you nod and move toward the door.

"Are we clear, Riles?" you hear Mac mutter behind you. She confirms the hall is empty a second later, and you dash out of the room before the heat that is building between you and Mac can worsen.

-

That night you awake with a start. You sit up straight in your bed, breathing heavy as you try to get control of yourself. You were dreaming about Mac. And not platonically.

This has happened a few times before, once or twice after a night on the town, or a long mission that ended in an embrace that lasted more than a few seconds.

But the dreams have been coming more frequently lately, reminding you just how much you're avoiding. You check the time on the alarm clock beside your bed, the blue numbers informing you of the early morning. You would try and go back to sleep, but you don't think there's any point. Your heart is racing and there's no way you're just going to fall into a dreamless sleep no matter how hard you try and wrangle your mind.

You slink out of bed, your feet padding on the carpeted floor as you move toward the kitchen for a glass of water. When you get there you come face to face with the picture of Mac that you have stuck to your fridge. He smiles back at you, all crinkled eyes and white teeth, making your stomach twist.

You almost reach out to touch the photo, but you stop yourself before you can go through with it. What is wrong with you? Your fingers itch with the need to call him and tell him to come over. You know if he was here he would brush your hair back from your face and make a stupid joke. You know he would make you feel better, he always does, no matter what's got you down.

You shake you head, trying to will the thoughts from your mind. You count the steps it takes to get a glass from the cupboard, to fill it with water and take it back to your room. The counting doesn't distract you as well as you hoped it would, but it was worth a shot. Is ruining your friendship with Mac worth it too?

You don't go back to sleep after that, instead opting to watch tv in the darkness until the sun decides to make her entrance. It's new years eve today, and this isn't exactly how you pictured your day starting. But nevertheless you move sluggishly toward the shower trying to avoid looking at your phone. You know sooner or later you'll receive a text from Mac, inviting you over tonight for Bozer's New Year Party.

Just the thought of him has your heart racing. But this has happened before. You'll get over it, you just need a minute. Or an hour. An eternity, maybe.

-

Mac has been oddly quiet Jack realizes, as he helps Bozer hang up happy new year banners around the house. Mac has been anything but helpful all day, getting in the way more than anything, which isn't like him.

"Earth to Mac." Jack calls, waving his hands in front of the blonde as he waits for a response. Mac snaps to attention, blinking rapidly.

"Sorry, what?"

Jack places a hand on Mac's shoulder, "We lost you there for a second bud. Honestly, you've been off in your own little world all day."

"Mac's always in his own little world." Bozer chimes in, climbing down from a step ladder. But Jack shakes his head.

"Not like this he ain't. What's up man?"

Mac doesn't want to say it, knows that if he does he'll never live it down. So he tells a half truth. "Y/N isn't answering my texts, I think I pissed her off the other day." He knows you're not mad at him, at least he thinks he does. But it's the closet he can get to saying, 'I'm going crazy thinking about someone who isn't interested in me the way I am in them.'

"Don't worry about it man, she's never been mad at you a day in her life." Jack squeezes Mac's shoulder, pulling out a chair to sit next to him. But Bozer pipes up with some not so helpful information.

"Not exactly true, you remember the time you blew up her favourite stuffed bear? She wanted you dead Mac, she told me as much. And in high school when you tried to leave her a valentine and it covered her whole locker in red glitter? And last year when you—"

"Not helping Boze." Mac cuts in, allowing his head to fall into his hands.

Jack chuckles, twisting a ring on his finger "You left her a valentine in high school?"

"I left her a valentine as friends." Mac clarifies, trying not to let Jack run with the idea. But Bozer has other plans, and has clearly been waiting to share all that he knows.

"He left her a valentine every year up until they left for the army together."

Mac wants to deny it but he can't. What Bozer doesn't know is that he still found ways to make you little valentine gifts even during deployment. He would write notes in the dirt, make you little heart out of pieces of scrap metal and paper. He never stopped making you valentines until he joined the phoenix with you. Until you became coworkers and it began to cross a line. Not that he wasn't already toeing the line between being your friend and flirting with you.

"Can we get back to the real conversation here? I texted her asking if she's coming tonight and she hasn't responded." With the line of work you're in Mac can't help but worry. What if somethings wrong? But also, with the way you looked at him the other night while trapped in that closet....he's worried it might be something he's done. Not that he did anything. But he wanted to, and you've always been able to read him like a book.

"She'll be here man, she always shows up for us." Jack clears his throat. "For you."

Mac lets the truth of those words set in, allowing a deep breath to fill his chest. You'll be here tonight, you'll show. You always do.

-

When you walk out onto the patio of Mac and Bozer's shared place, Mac almost knocks over his drink. He jolts to sit up straighter, elbow knocking the table as his beer rocks unstably in response. He ignores it in favor of looking at you.

You've dressed up for the night, in a dress that Mac has never seen before. It's getting hard for him to breathe. Is this what people mean when they say something has taken their breath away?

Jack gets up to greet you in an instant, calling a "Look what the cat dragged in." as he moves to pull you into a side hug, walking with you to the fire pit on the deck. Mac stays still, unable to think for the first time in his life.

-

"This is amazing Boze," you say, looking around at all the decorations laid out. The banners on the walls, the streamers and the fairy lights. It's gorgeous and perfect to end the year.

Bozer gets bashful at your words, "It's nothing, I mean, I only planned it for a couple of months."

You want to laugh, but you can tell he is entirely sincere with his claim. You choose to smile instead, trying to stop your gaze from wandering to Mac. But it's a lost cause. You can feel him looking right at you, and that alone draws your own attention to him.

His blonde hair is more of a mess than usual, as if he spent half the day running his hands through it. You wonder if he had trouble sleeping last night too, or if maybe those feelings are still unrequited.

"Did you help at all? With the decorations?" you ask him. You overthink the question instantly, what a stupid thing to say.

"Mac just sat around moping." Bozer cuts in before Mac can so much as open his mouth to respond. Your gaze cuts to him, and then back to Mac in confusion.

"What, why? Are you okay?" instantly your juvenile embarrassment is gone, in favor of worrying about him.

"Yeah, Boze is just—"

This time Jack cuts him off. "He needs to talk to you."

Your eyes widen in an instant, and you want to be sick at the thought of whatever it is he has to say. "Oh, um, okay."

Mac seems just as startled as you, putting down the beer he was holding and glaring at Jack. "He's being dramatic, nothing's wrong."

"Then why did you need to talk to me?" you manage to keep the shake from your voice, but you bet everyone can see it in your eyes anyway.

"I don't." Mac snaps, and then instantly checks himself for his tone. "I wasn't moping about anything."

You don't believe him, and you know he can tell. But you let it slide, and you turn your attention to Riley who out of sympathy has started up a new conversation.

You glance at Mac across the circle, and catch him watching you right back.

-

It's almost midnight. There's ten minutes left until a new year begins and you all start spitting resolutions you know you won't keep. You have a resolution you won't dare share. That you won't let your feelings for your best friend get in the way of work, or your friendship. You don't know if you'll be able to keep it though.

Mac has been pacing for the better part of an hour, having the occasional conversation with Jack and Bozer, but never once staying still. You wonder what he's thinking about, if he really does have something important to say to you.

You have a brief conversation with Matty about Jack's antics on the last mission, about the prank you might want to pull on him to get him back next time, and then Bozer is calling out.

"Five minutes everyone!"

Your eyes move to Mac in an instant. The thought enters your head for a moment. The image of kissing him at midnight searing itself into your mind before you push it away.

Mac meets your gaze, his pacing halts.

You've spoken about it before on past New Years. "What if we kissed at midnight just for the hell of it?" "There's no harm in it right?" But you'd never once gone through with it.

Mac puts down his drink. Runs a hand through his hair, and moves toward you.

-

Mac doesn't know what ghost is controlling him right now, but surely he's posessed. He moves toward you with purpose, covering the ground swiftly until he's close enough to touch you.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He starts. "And for the other day, in the closet."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." You manage, clutching your glass of Bozer's homemade punch a little tighter.

"You look..." Mac searches for a word and comes up empty.

"Thank you." you smile, and he does the same, as Bozer shouts to the group.

"two minutes!" he sounds so excited, so happy to be here with all of you.

Mac is trying to talk himself out of it. It won't work out the way he hopes it will. He shouldn't. He can't. But you're looking up at him, fingers wrapped around your drink, and Mac knows you well enough to read the expression on your face. You're thinking the same thing he is. It's the face you made when you had a crush on Thomas from 5th grade, the face you made when he teased you about it. The face you made when you saw Thomas go with someone else to the school dance, despite the fact you thought he was going to ask you. And the face you made when Mac asked you instead. Has it really been in front of him this whole time?

Bozer's voice is a distant buzzing in the background, counting down. Mac's hands clench at his sides, his body's last ditch effort at convincing his brain that this isn't a good idea.

"I'm not sorry, about what happened...almost happened in that closet." The words find their way out before he can stop them, not that he tried very hard to.

You place your drink on the ledge beside you, "I know."

You look beautiful tonight, the string lights Bozer hung bringing a sparkle to your eye. Your dress looks soft to the touch, and the more his thoughts spin, the harder it becomes to try and stop them.

He can hear Bozer's final countdown, ten seconds till midnight. You smile, all knowing at last. And Mac knows then that this will work out. Because you're taking a step toward him, reading his mind.

6, 5, 4...

Mac's head tilts to the side, one last examination of your expression. "Fuck it."

3, 2, 1.

Mac kisses you, hands coming up to the sides of your face. You let him kiss you, let him take his time. Mac doesn't know what he expected. He realizes now that kissing you has been on his mind for a decade, but it's not how he thought it would be. There's fireworks, real ones, exploding nearby in new years celebration, but the feeling Mac gets is a lot simpler. It's not world altering, or life changing. Kissing you feels normal, like this was always how it was meant to be. He fits with you, always has.

He pulls away, and suddenly all logical thought rushes back. He's just kissed his best friend, and everyone is watching. The countdown and cheering from all your friends has died down in favor of stunned silence. They all stand around with mouths agape, and you stand before him, hands on his chest, with a similar expression.

"Sorry." it's all he can think of to say, the silence deafening.

You stand very still before him, eyes locked onto him and nothing else. He opens his mouth to apologize again, when you grip his shirt tight in your fingers and pull him down to you. "Just be quiet." you mumble.

The kiss you press to his lips is softer than the one before, as if you're communicating with him through it.

Slow claps echo around the patio, gaining speed as you both break apart. Jack is grinning ear to ear, his claps getting louder and more obnoxious by the second.

"Alright, alright, shows over." Mac says, raising one hand in defense. But his other hand has a tight grip on your waist, not able to let go of the moment just yet.

"No way," you say, and Mac follows your gaze to Matty and Riley, passing money around. "You gambling rats."

Mac smiles, because despite the words you don't sound mad at all. You sound content, and so is he. He looks down at you, at your hand over his on your hip.

"We're gonna talk about this later." you mumble, because you do have a lot to discuss. How this is going to work, how you turn a friendship into something more.

Mac thinks that can wait. For now, he wants another drink.

"Happy new year." he leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin. He has no idea how this will work, but he doesn't regret that it happened. It's been a long time coming after all.