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Mack gets to the Olympics a few days after everybody else, his schedule pushed back because of how many people needed to get into one place and then on the plane to Milan. Having so many players spread over two enormous countries was a real pain in the ass, but they made it work. He shares a room with Sidney Crosby of all people and freaks out all over again when he gets his room assignment, taking in Sid unpacking his stuff, the view to Milan outside his window, and his own bag full of Lululemon Olympic goodies and nearly freaks out all over again like he did when he got the phone call from his agent all those months ago. He flops down onto his bed, staring up at the blank white ceiling and grinning like an idiot.
He hears Sidney laugh from his left and turns his head to see Sidney staring at him with a small amused smile on his face. “Finally hitting you, huh?” Mack can only nod, his stupid grin still on his face. “I remember those days. Enjoy it bud, you’re only at the Olympics for the first time once.” Sidney goes back to putting things in drawers as Mack fishes his phone from his pocket, notifications lighting up his screen as the sim card he bought starts properly working now that he’s on Italian soil.
There’s a text from Toff, making fun of his stupid grin in a video of his team arriving in Italy while also wishing him the best and telling him he’ll look good in silver. A text from Connor sits unopened also, a selfie of him in front of his TV watching some random skating event he probably doesn’t know the rules of but wearing a Team Canada shirt nonetheless. He replies to a text from his mom asking if he got in okay and locks his phone, sitting up. Energy buzzes under his skin as he takes another look around the room, trying to think of something to do. Sidney closes the last drawer and the noise draws Mack from out of his head. “You wanna go get something to eat? I’m starving.” Mack’s stomach gives a mighty rumble and he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything since before their flight, too excited to properly stomach the in-flight meal. Sidney smiles and gestures to the door before walking towards it, Mack on his heels like a baby duck.
They pass through the Olympic village, spotting athletes dressed in dozens of different uniforms and speaking dozens of languages Mack can’t even hope to begin translating. He nearly bowls someone in an Australian jacket over as he looks around and he shouts a sorry behind him which is met with an accented “All good, mate!” and a grin. The main dining hall is huge, what must be hundreds of chairs spread among dozens of long and round tables taking up almost every available space. There are buffet stations lining the wall to his right and condiments lining the one on the far side from the door. Some of the stops have small flags next to them, indicating which country a particular dish is from while some are just neutral, everyday fare for most athletes.
Sidney must see the stars in his eyes as he looks at the food because he hears a chuckle from next to him. He puts an arm around his neck and pats his shoulder. “Don’t go too crazy kid, grab a bit of what looks good and go back for more of what you like. Whoever’s done first finds a table?”
Mack nods and he’s away, looking at the various stations as he tries to find something to eat. He grabs something from a few different stations, trying his best to follow his trainer assigned diet plan with what he grabs until he has a well balanced plate. He spots Sidney engaged in conversation with one of the Australian athletes for a sport Mack can’t even hope to guess so he turns to the tables, hoping to find one mostly empty. He finds some open seats at a long table towards the windows on the opposite wall from the buffets, one half of the table already occupied by a group of Americans who are in a spirited discussion as they eat. He can’t tell which sport they’re from until he spots Ilia Malinin, the American figure skater everyone has their eyes on and he tries to stay cool as he sits down a few chairs away. He looks over at them again as he begins to eat and freezes when he spots another blonde American, his hair curlier and his jaw sharper than Malinin’s. He’s smiling wide as he listens to the conversation, laughing along and playing with a silver necklace with a cross and a circular pendant Mack doesn’t recognize. He’s struck by this man’s beauty when he smiles, his eyes crinkling and his laugh twinkling around the other Americans at the table.
He stares for longer than is polite until the blonde turns and catches Mack’s eyes for a second before Mack’s head snaps down to his plate, his face and neck burning at having been caught. The chair in front of him moves out and he looks up, expecting to see Sidney but instead meeting eyes (beautiful, clear blue eyes-) with the same American. He has the build of a figure skater, strong but lean and graceful as he rests his elbows on the table and smiles politely at Mack. “You mind if I take this spot?” His voice is deep and pleasant, holding a polite note that Mack has come to expect from most Americans in a casual setting, the hint of an accent Mack can’t place slipping through.
Mack’s brain stops working for a moment and the man’s polite smile turns more amused. “Yes! Of course,” Mack stutters, cursing himself in his head for looking like an idiot in front of a cute American.
The American slides his plate over from where he was sitting next to an older man, someone Mack can only presume is his coach, and uses his fork to take a bite of some rice. After he swallows, he holds out a hand to Mack for a handshake. “Will Smith, no not the one from Fresh Prince. If you call me that, I'll never speak to you again. Figure skating” His smile is teasing and friendly.
Mack huffs a laugh at the comment, placing his own hand in Will’s and shaking firmly. “Macklin Celebrini, hockey. Call me Mack.” Will’s hand lingers for a moment and Mack relishes in the soft skin interspersed by a few calluses.
Will’s smile grows. “Ah, so you’re the famous Macklin Celebrini, was wondering when I’d run into you.” Will must notice his confused expression because he takes a drink of water and says “I go to Boston College, was there when you were traumatizing our hockey team, I’ve heard a thing or two about you.”
Mack relaxes and smiles in his own teasing way. “Well then, it would appear we’re enemies on two fronts, Will.”
“So it would seem.” Will’s smile softens as his mouth opens to show his teeth and Mack’s heart skips a beat. “Say, I’ve got a program this evening, men’s short form with Ilia,” he points and Ilia waves at Mack with a kind smile, both of which he returns. “You wanna come watch?”
“Yes,” Mack replies, almost too quickly. The blush returns full force and he takes a drink of his water just to have something to do with his hands.
“Then I’ll see you tonight Mack.” He stands with the rest of the figure skaters and their coaches to return their plates, leaving a small plastic bag with a pin and a napkin with something written on it. Mack grabs the pin and places it in his pocket, he’ll give Will one of the ones he’s carrying around to trade when he sees him tonight. He grabs the napkin and reads what’s on it, realizing Will had given him a user handle for a social media account, whether an instagram or Whatsapp account Mack will have to find out later as Sidney slides into the seat Will was previously occupying.
Mack jumps and stuffs the napkin into a pocket with a zipper and closes it, making sure he doesn’t lose it. He looks Sidney in the face and sees him trying to hold back a smile. “What,” Mack asks dumbly.
Sidney shakes his head as an amused smile graces his face. “Nothing, just looked like you may have been flirting with that figure skater, bud.” Mack’s head impacts the table and, if even possible, his blush deepens, his face and neck now bright red. Sidney laughs bright and loud at Mack’s expense and Mack brings a hand out from where it’s cushioning his forehead to grace Sidney with the finger. The laughter dies down and Mack raises his head, shoving part of a roll in his mouth so he doesn’t say something offensive. It’s a good piece of bread, fluffy and flavorful. Sidney’s face grows a bit more serious as he looks at Mack. “Be careful Mack, you know what hockey is like.”
Mack knows very well; he’s known he wasn’t straight since he was in middle school and he developed a crush on his team’s captain and was subsequently yelled at about it by his father. He’s known he was gay since high school and he couldn’t relate to his teammates when they talked about girls, feeling nothing towards the beautiful girls in his grade. He’s been on the receiving end of more homophobic comments than he cares to think about, not directed towards his own sexuality, but gay people in general. He’s pretty sure he knows every slur towards gay people in several languages. He’s hooked up with guys before, secretly and after making sure they knew absolutely nothing about hockey and the people who played it. He gives Sidney a nod. “I know.”
“I’m serious, Mack.” And he is, his smile dissolving. “Figure skating is more accepting, you can be queer and it’s less looked down on. Hockey is different; I need to make sure you know that.”
“I know, Sid. But I can’t stay in the closet forever.”
Sidney sighs and searches Mack’s eyes. He must trust whatever he sees because he nods and smiles again. “So… who was that?”
Mack’s lips turn up despite his best efforts and he scratched behind his ear. “Will Smith, I don’t know anything else about him other than he’s a figure skater and he goes to Boston College.”
Sidney whistles. “Forbidden love, eh?”
Mack laughs slightly. “Guess so, more than usual.”
“And the napkin you hid when I sat down?” Mack stuffs his face with some of the food on his plate to avoid answering. “Fine, don’t tell me. Just know if you sexile me I’m never gonna let you live it down.”
Mack and Sidney finish their lunch and make their way back to their room and spend some time in silence, fighting sleep to try and combat the jet lag of a six hour difference for Sidney and a nine hour difference for Mack. To keep himself occupied, he googles Will, first getting the Fresh Prince before he’s able to refine his search to who he’s actually looking for. He learns with is from Lexington, Massachusetts (that would explain the accent), is only a year older than him, is friends with Ryan Lenoard and Gabe Perreault (explains how Will knew who he was), and has an older sister. After reading about every accomplishment ever on his Wikipedia page, he opens Instagram and gets a hit for Will, a professional page with beautifully curated posts. Will looks beautiful in every shot, his hair flying around him in photos mid-spin and his face clear and focused in the ones of him mid-skate. After thoroughly staking Instagram, he opens his DMs before pausing, locking his phone before he does anything he’ll regret. He sits there for a while, thinking before the reminder on his phone echoes through the room, waking up Sidney from where he had been dozing on his own bed.
Sidney laughs at him as he scrambles to grab a few pins to trade with other athletes he runs into and his wallet. He’s out the door and on his way to the skating arena in two minutes flat, almost running into a group of Swedish athletes in his haste; he shouts an apology behind him and continues running. He gets into the arena easily, apparently some seats are reserved for athletes should they want to come and support their fellow athletes in other sports, and he sits behind the judges about halfway between the ice and concourse. The competition doesn’t start for another 15 minutes so he makes polite conversation with the British athlete seated next to him, trading away one of his pins for a Union Jack before the woman turns back to her fellow Brit and they start a conversation Mack has no hope of following, one speaking in a heavy Scottish accent and the other an English accent he has no hope placing but is equally difficult to understand. He pulls out his phone and his DMs are still open from when he last locked them, the empty conversation with Will staring back at him. He looks up and sees figure skaters from every category circling on the ice, warming up their spins and practicing jumps. He spots Will immediately, dressed in a Team USA zip up and sweatpants, no hint of his skating outfit yet visible. Will looks out over the crowd for a moment and his eyes move past Mack before skipping back to him, a grin breaking out over his face. Will waves and Mack waves back, a similar smile making its home on his face. He could swear Will blushed, but he can’t tell through the makeup Will’s wearing, flawless and stylish; the eye makeup makes the clear blue pop in a way that does things to Mack’s stomach.
As the skaters leave the ice, Mack looks back down at his phone and makes up his mind. He writes and rewrites his first text so much that the first skate starts by the time he sends it. ‘I hope I can be a good luck charm’ he writes.
He turns his phone off to focus on the skater when it buzzes in his hand. He looks at the notification and opens it when he sees it’s a message from Will. ‘Oh, you will be. This may not be a medal event but I’ll sure medal in something’. The message is sent with a winking emoji and it makes Mack laugh.
A few skaters take their turns and get their scores and Mack feels satisfied when the Canadian skater takes first. Will skates onto the ice after Canadian gets his score, his outfit a blue shimmering suit with high neck and silver embellishments. There’s a thick sash at the waist tied off to the side that hugs Will perfectly, making his shoulders and hips look even better. His pants are tight, leaving nothing to the imagination; Mack tries not to stare too hard at Will’s ass, but that proves to be a fruitless mission.
Mack knows nothing about figure skating; he doesn’t know the jumps, the spins, or what gains and loses points, but what he does know is that Will is mesmerizing. He skates with his limbs in exact places, moving them gracefully and beautifully. His spins are fast and controlled, his jumps perfect to Mack’s untrained eyes. When the program is over and Will takes his final pose, sitting on the ice with his legs off to the side and reaching for the sky, Mack takes in a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He watches Will get his score and shoot up to first place and Mack feels no kind of disappointment as the Canadian gets pushed to second. A Japanese skater and Ilia go next and overtake Will’s first place and push him to third, but Mack doesn’t fully notice, too busy staring at Will where he’s standing with the rest of the American team by the barrier between the concrete floor of the arena and the competition ice.
The competition ends and Mack’s phone buzzes. He opens his and Will’s DMs and reads ‘Meet me at the side entrance? Stay where you are, I’m sending Amber’. Mack doesn’t know who Amber is but he stays where he is as people move around him, going to the bathroom and getting overpriced arena food as a zamboni cleans the ice. A tap on his shoulder startles him out of staring at the zamboni and a blonde woman wearing the same things Will was before his program stands there, smiling kindly at him. “Mack?” she asks, pointing at him casually.
“Yeah. Amber, right?” He stands and shoves his phone in his pocket.
Amber beams at him and nods, motioning him to follow her. He does and she leads him through the crowd to an athlete only area and down some stairs, finally stopping at a metal loading dock door and turning to look at him. She holds out her hand to him. “Amber Glenn, figure skating.” He shakes her hand. “Figured I should introduce myself properly considering I’m a middle man right now.”
He huffs a laugh. “In that case, Macklin Celebrini, hockey.”
She gives him an approving nod before looking around. She leans in close when she sees no one around them. “I know what you hockey boys are like when it comes to queer people, so I just want to cover my bases. You seem like a nice guy, Canadian politeness and all that, but if you’re leading Will on in some kind of huge homophobic farce, I’ll find you and break all of your hockey sticks, maybe some bones too depending on how bad it gets. Capiche?”
Mack nods vigorously, scared of this woman who’s half a foot shorter than him and probably half his weight. “Heard loud and clear.”
She nods, satisfied. “In that case, be careful, yeah? Like I said, I know how hockey players can be.”
Mack laughs, self deprecating. “Don’t I know it.”
“Mack!” Amber turns and Mack’s eyes zero in on Will, still in his skating outfit but with slides on instead of skates, his makeup still perfect.
Amber gives them an amused glance. “I’ll make myself scarce. Nice to meet you Mack.” Mack nods at her in response and she’s walking back down the way Will came, presumably to watch another teammate’s skate.
Will gives him a concerned look as he turns back from waving Amber goodbye. “What was that about?”
“I think I just got given the shovel talk by your teammate.”
“Oh Jesus Christ,” Will says, his head in his hands. “I told her not to freak you out. I know-”
“You know how hockey players can be,” Mack interrupts. Will gives him a blank look and Mack laughs. “I’ve heard that so much today it’s almost not funny.”
Will sighs and a smile grows on his face. “At least you have people in your corner when it comes to this stuff.” His face suddenly drops. “Unless I’m reading this totally wrong and you’re not flirting back–”
Mack puts himself in Will’s space and presses a kiss to his cheek. Will’s skin warms under his lips and his face is red when Mack pulls back. “You are absolutely not reading this wrong.”
Will smiles brightly and takes a quick look around them before his arms go around Mack’s shoulders and their lips are connecting in the middle. Mack’s hands go to hold Will’s leith waist tightly as Will grips his shoulders. They pull apart after what feels like forever but is probably only a minute or so.
“Lover boy!” They jump apart and see Amber standing a little ways down the corridor, shooting them an amused look. “Pairs is about to start, get back here!” Her hands are on her hips and she’s holding her phone in one hand.
Will lets out a relieved breath and turns back to Mack, a reluctant smile on his face. “I have to go. Text me, I mean it.”
“I will.” Will lets go and tries to move away but Mack tugs him back, pressing kisses to his lips as Will laughs, his smile making the kisses awkward but no less wonderful.
Will pulls back after a few minutes, his shoulders shaking with his laugh. “I have to go, Mack.”
Mack pouts, his bottom lip pushing out. “But I don’t want you to go.”
Will’s smile softens and then takes on a mischievous lint. “Tell you what, my roommate said he planned on going out to party with some of the other US athletes tonight. Would you be interested in-”
“Yes,” Mack says before Will finishes his sentence. “Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
Will’s smile brightens again. “I’ll text you.” He finally fully pulls out of Mack’s grasp and moves backwards towards where Amber is still standing, her face screwed up in disgust and amusement. She matches his stride when he turns around and says something Mack can’t hear, causing Will to push her shoulder and throw her off center, a loud laugh echoing off the walls as Will turns back to look at him, face bright red. He waves one final time as he disappears around the corner.
Mack retraces his steps and ends up in the main area of the arena, classical music echoing from the ice as the next program gets underway. He exits the arena and walks back to his room in a daze, a stupid smile on his face the whole way. He opens his door and Sidney is asleep on his bed, laying on his back and snoring quietly. Mack laughs under his breath and kicks the end of Sidney’s bed. Sidney snorts awake, looking around the room before rubbing his face and sitting up. He registers Mack in the room with a groggy look. “Oh hey. How long was I asleep?”
“I have no idea, I just got back.”
“Oh right, from your new boyfriend’s skating program.”
Mack flushes. “He’s not-”
“Yeah yeah, I don’t believe that for a second. Like I said earlier, sexile me and you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Yeah, sure Sid.” Mack huffed a sigh and glanced at the time on his phone. “You wanna get dinner?”
Sidney picks up his own phone and he looks at the time. “Yeah, that’d be good. I can check what the rest of the guys are doing.”
They head down to the dining hall, meeting up with the rest of the team at a table and laughing as they stuff their faces. At one point, Mack breaks from his conversation with one of his teammates and looks up, meeting Will’s eyes a few tables over. His mouth drops open and Will’s shoulders shake like he’s laughing, turning to whisper something to Amber behind a hand. He turns back to look at Mack and holds up his phone, shaking it. Mack grapples to pull his phone out of his pocket and sees the Instagram notification staring back up at him. He unlocks his phone and reads the message that graces his screen. ‘US building, 10:00. My roommate kept bragging about finding a nice girl to go home with so we’ll have the room to ourselves…’ There's a series of suggestive emojis that end the message and when Mack looks back up Will makes a suggestive gesture with his hand and mouth. Mack blushes all the way to his hair.
‘You’d better hope the walls are thick in the American building, I don’t plan on letting you be quiet’ is what he chooses to reply. He looks back up at Will in time to see him blush bright red and lower his head into his hands. Amber throws her head back as he laughs and the people sitting around them give the confused looks. Will throws Mack a look and Mack goes to return it until someone taps him on the shoulder. One of his teammates has an amused look on his face as he takes in Mack’s blush and Mack locks his phone before anyone can look at his screen.
“Do my eyes deceive me or is Mack flirting with someone I can’t see?” The table’s eyes shoot to them and Mack sends Will a look that he hopes expresses ‘pretend you don’t know me’. From how Will looks down at his phone like he has been the whole time, it works.
“Oooo, do tell Celly.” The guys are looking at him like a deer who just ran into a wolfs’ den. He sends a pleading look to Sidney who looks around at their teammates and sighs.
“Guys, let him be, if he doesn’t wanna talk about it don’t make him.”
The guys let up, going back to their seats and talking loudly to each other in English and French. A French athlete hears them from a few tables over and comes over to judge their Quebecois and Mack takes the chance to escape, putting his plate in the dish return before fleeing the dining hall. When he gets far enough from the door that he knows no one’s following him, a message from Will staring back up at him. ‘That was too close for comfort. Fuck 10:00, wait for me at the US building?’ Mack didn’t need to be told twice. He turned towards where he knew the Canadian building was, the American one just across a small courtyard. He sidesteps every athlete he sees, especially the Canadian ones, like they’re going to report back to the world and tell them Mack’s going to hook up with a fucking hot American figure skater. He finds a shadowed corner near the front door and tries to stay hidden, ducking around the corner every time an athlete comes close, looking out for curly blonde hair and a devastating smile.
He hears people chatting as they go in and out of the building he’s hiding against, speaking forms of English he’s only heard in passing among other languages. A group of people pass through the doors, laughing at something someone said. The doors close and someone remains outside and Mack can see the back of Will’s head. “Mack?” Will calls out, looking out over the courtyard.
“Here,” Mack whispers back, Will jumping as he turns and stares into the darkness of his shadowed hiding place.
Will’s shoulders lower when he recognizes Mack standing there. “You fucker, you scared the hell out of me.”
Mack leaves his shadow, gazing at Will’s face as the fluorescent light at the entrance casts it in shadow; to Mack, he still looks beautiful. Will scans his card on the door and holds it open, giving Mack an expectant look. “Well, you coming?” Mack pushes his way inside, caging Will against the wall and bringing their faces close together. Will’s arms come around Mack’s shoulders and one of his hands grips Mack’s hair, pulling his head back from where his lips had been brushing against Will’s. “Woah there, tiger.” Mack leans back a little bit, enough that they’re still sharing air but far enough that Will would have time to pull away if Mack tries to kiss him. “As much as I would love you to kiss me right here right now, how about we go back to my room where no one else can see, huh?” His voice is low and seductive, one of his hands scratching Mack’s scalp in a way that drives him crazy.
He grips Will’s hips in a way that may end up leaving bruises, lowering his head to the crook of Will’s neck and shoulder, brushing his lips over it. He leaves a light kiss there and bites down, sucking roughly as Will lets out a little sound that makes Mack’s hips twitch forward, his hardness brushing against Will’s. They both let out moans and Will’s hands leave his hair, pushing at his shoulders until Mack is a respectable distance away. The hickey Mack left on his neck is bright red, large and persistent against Will’s neck out of the collar of his jacket. Will gives him a once over, hands firm against his shoulders before he lets them go and grips his wrist, pulling Mack after him. “My room, now.”
The elevator is less than 10 paces from the door and takes forever to come, one car going up on floor 6 and one coming down from floor 7. The one coming down stops on floor three before continuing, the other elevator right behind the first. The doors open one after another, four athletes coming out of one and just one out of the other. One carries a laundry hamper and doesn’t mind either of them, one gives Will a nod and wave (damn American politeness, Mack thinks) as Mack hides his face in his jacket, and the other three blow by them and exit the building chatting about Italian alcohol. They enter one of the now open doors and Mack pins Will against a wall, laying kisses on his neck as he presses the correct number. The doors close and Mack pushes Will’s arms up and out of the way, holding his wrists with a single hand and biting at the skin in front of him as Will lets out more precious little sounds. The doors open and Will muscles his wrists out of Mack’s grip, leading him by the hand to a door halfway down the hall and unlocking it. As soon as they clear the threshold, Mack is pushing Will against it and kissing him, one hand clawing at the zipper of his puffer and one twisting the lock on the door. Will bites his lip as Mack finally slides the jacket down Will’s arms, his own following swiftly after, and he lets out a low sound as Will’s tongue meets his, dancing around each other.
They pull apart for breath after a while, the back of Will’s head hitting the door as he stares at Mack through his lashes, pupils dilated and skin flushed pink. Mack knows he doesn’t look any better, unzipping the sweatshirt he’d put on over his shirt and leaning down to undo his shoe laces. Will, wearing sneakers as opposed to Mack’s boots, slips off his shoes and pulls up his hoodie and tshirt at the same time, leaving his chest bare for Mack to see; he’s strong in a lean way, muscles poking out from smooth, pale skin. His shoulders are wide and strong, not hidden under clothing and Mack years to get his pants off to properly see his ass and thighs. He stands as he kicks off his boots, pulling his own shirt over his head and down his arms. He pushes Will back into the door, kissing him thoroughly as his hands roam his ass and thighs, squeezing the muscle in his palms. As one of his hands caresses Will’s thigh, he gets an idea and moves it to the back, moving his other hand that had been playing with Will’s nipple to mirror the first, lifting Will in his arms and shoving between his legs. Will’s thighs close around his hips, his ankles crossing over the small of his back, grinding their hips together in a delicious friction that has Will throwing his head back with a satisfied noise, giving Mack room to lick at his clavicle.
After a few moments, Will grabs his hair again, pulling his head back and Mack is starting to realize he may be into that as he lets out a small noise. Will is smirking when their eyes meet, eyes lustful and dark. He leans more into Mack’s space, having to bend over a bit to reach Mack’s ear due to his position. “If you don’t get me on that bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I’ll go through your phone for everyone on your team until I find someone who will.” Mack knows Will is trying to get a rise out of him based on the playful expression on his face when he straightens back up, but Mack’s not about to test his patience, pulling Will off the door and taking all of his weight.
He’s light, though that’s to be expected of someone who does complicated jumps and moves across ice at high speeds for a living. “Which bed is yours,” he asks, his voice rough.
“The one on your left.” Mack doesn’t need any further instruction, dropping Will on the bed and letting him shimmy up it until his head is on the pillow before leaning over him, blanketing him with his body. Mack leans in to kiss him again, slow but passionate before he starts moving down his body; he places a kiss to Will’s cheek, then even more to his neck, leaving another mark at the inner end of his collarbone. He turns his attention to Will’s nipples, taking the left one in his mouth and the right in his hand, drawing higher and higher noises from Will until he detaches and moves lower, leaving kisses and small marks on Will’s stomach and abs. He reaches the waistband of Will’s sweatpants, fingering over them as he meets Will’s eyes. He nods and Mack pulls them down roughly, taking Will’s boxers with them. He removes Will’s socks and he looks up Will’s body, taking in his thick, beautiful thighs and his cock straining against his stomach. He stares for a second, taking in the miles of pale skin and muscle before him. “Why are you staring?” Will asks breathlessly, wriggling around in impatience.
“You’re so beautiful,” Mack replies, bringing a blush to Will’s body he can see spread. It starts at his neck and face and then blooms over his chest in a way that Mack finds delicious. He runs his hands over Will’s thighs, leaving kisses and a few bites on them as Will gets more and more impatient. He mouths over Will’s cock, bringing out a loud, high noise that lights up every nerve ending in Mack’s body. He realizes as he teases Will that he’s been grinding into the bed, trying to get some relief on his own aching hardness. He realizes then he’s still in his jeans and stands, pushing them and his boxers down in one movement, taking his socks off in the next. He notices Will gazing at his cock, biting his lip. Will notices him staring and their eyes meet. “Like what you see?” Mack smirks.
“I’ll like it even better when you fuck me with it, Celebrini.” Mack shivers at the use of his last name and Will huffs a small laugh, rising up on his elbows to look at Mack properly. “You like that, huh?”
“Lube?” Mack asks instead. Will turns to the small nightstand and grabs a bottle, throwing it so it lands between his legs, a foil square joining it. Mack grabs the condom and places it beside Will’s head for later, popping the cap of the lube and spreading it on his fingers. He covers Will’s body again, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth and pushing in a finger.
Will throws his head back with a moan as Mack’s finger enters him, the push easier than it should be. He meets Will’s eyes in surprise and the playful look returns. “I had a bit of extra time after the programs before we left for dinner, so I decided to have a little fun.” He nips at Mack’s top lip and Mack bullies him into a quick kiss, pushing in a second finger. “Holy shit,” Will says breathily, one hand gripping the pillow and one clawing at Mack’s shoulder. “You are… too good at that-” He’s cut off by a loud moan as Mack presses on what must be his prostate, rubbing over it with his fingers.
“Right there, huh?” Mack says, pushing in a third finger and rubbing over the spot again, Will’s sounds getting louder and higher.
“Mack, Mack, Mack…” Will says, squirming against the sheets as Mack lavishes the spot over and over, sucking at the skin behind his ear. Just as Will starts trembling, Mack removes his hand and pulls away from Will’s body, grabbing the condom as he levies himself upwards. Will whines when the stimulation is gone, the hand that has since fallen from Mack’s body reaching out for him. “No, come back.”
Mack doesn’t reply, rather sliding on the condom and lubing himself up before climbing back over Will, weight held on one arm as he uses a hand to guide himself. He pushes in slowly and Will moans loudly, so much so that Mack would be concerned about people hearing if he wasn’t so far gone. “Jesus fucking- Will,” Mack says, brain fried as Will grips his cock. “You feel so good.” Will lets out a whimper at that and goes to cover his face with a hand but Mack grabs it before he can, pushing it down into the mattress next to Will’s face. “Don’t hide your beautiful face from me.”
He stays where he is for a minute, waiting for Will to adjust. Will’s legs wrap around his hips and his heels dig into his ass, pushing him deeper in as Will meets his eyes, his own blue filled with tears of pleasure, and says “move”. Mack pulls his hips back, almost pulling completely out of Will before slamming back in, drawing a loud noise from Will. He does it again, stronger, and again until he’s built a slow rhythm that has Will letting out moans every time he pushes in. The hand not within Mack’s grasp is clawing at Mack’s shoulder, leaving scratches he know he’ll get made fun of for later but now he doesn’t give a single fuck to anything not happening in this room. “Faster,” Will breathes, voice tinged with desperation. Mack complies, his hips moving faster, harder into Will and drawing higher, louder moans.
“Fuck you look so beautiful,” Mack says, almost losing himself to the feeling. “And the sounds you make – fuck, I’ll never be able to get enough of them.” Will moans even louder, shouting Mack's name and pleas to go faster, harder, please Mack right there.
Mack lets go of Will’s hand, using both of his hands to steady himself as he jackrabbits into Will, noises of the bed creaking and his own loud grunts being overshadowed by Will’s loud, nearly screaming high sounds of pleasure. The noises change and Mack feels himself starting to get close, one of Will’s legs thrown over his shoulder and one of Will’s hand making lines down his back as the other tangles in his hair. “Mack, please, I’m so close Mack-”
“Me too, sweetheart, you’re so good for me.” Will moans even higher and Mack swears his nails draw blood. “Come for me Will.” Will’s coming as soon as Mack finishes his sentence, painting their torsos in white as Mack’s hips stutter, coming inside the condom.
They lay there for a minute, catching their breath until Mack pulls away slightly, enough to pull out and pull off the condom, chucking it in the trash. Will’s regained his breath a little, wiping at the sweat on his forehead and flexing his legs. “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else, Celebrini.”
Mack smiles as he lays back down beside Will, running a few tissues over his stomach before chucking them in the general direction of the trash. “Oh yeah?”
Will nods, his eyes closed. “Yeah. I hope you want a repeat performance because there’s no way I’m letting you go.” Will’s eyes open and he searches Mack’s face, a hint of uncertainty there. “I mean… as long as you want a repeat performance.”
Mack, looking at Will’s beautiful face, says the first thing that comes to his head: “Will you let me take you out to dinner?”
Will’s face is blank in shock for a moment before he bursts into laughter making Mack blush. He turns back to Mack and there’s a wide smile on his face, all of his teeth showing and his eyes crinkling; Mack decides he loves this look on Will’s face. “Why, are you asking me out, Mr. Celebrini?”
Mack takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Will’s smile softens, but it stays big and bright, his eyes shining. “In that case, I would love to go to dinner with you, Mack. Just give me a time and place.”
Mack’s answering smile hurts his cheeks.
The next day at Will’s competition, he can’t help but feel smug seeing the purple marks gracing Will’s throat over his costume collar, dark enough not to be completely covered with the makeup someone had tried to put over them. He’s seated next to part of his team, come to support Canada in their quest for a medal. He feels smug when he watches Will accept the gold, the color matching his hair under the sun he’d woken up to that morning. He’d been chirped about his scratches that morning at practice, the guys hooting and hollering about who had given the great Macklin Celebrini so many deep marks while Sidney had shot him a knowing look. He meets Will’s eyes as he looks over the stands, sending him a beaming smile and a not-so-subtle wave as he lifts his golden medal in one hand. Mack waves back, his own smile wide enough to show his gums and he feels comfort in knowing his phone is one number richer and his heart one person fuller.