whimsysful
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Leno pulls off, after a moment, hovering by his ear. “Is he looking?”
Will blinks a few times, eyes snapping past the wall to where Macklin stands, just to see the same sight he’s been seeing for the past twenty minutes, at least. “Obviously not,” he hisses, and he feels stupid that he even looked.
“He will.”
--
Across the bar, Will laughs, and Mack glances up. There’s a distant thought in there, about how he’s so in tune with Will on the ice that he knows where he is off it as well, can pick out his laugh in the sparse crowd of a dispersing bar, but the thought dies when he catches sight of him.
Will’s eyes are closed, head thrown back and biting his lip at whatever the fuck Leno is doing: head bowed and clearly mouthing at Will’s fucking neck. He’s got a hand in Leonard’s hair, pulling, and Mack’s mouth goes dry.
He’s walking over before he even realizes what he’s doing.
--
or, Mack doesn't exactly know why he dislikes Ryan Leonard. What he does know, is that he absolutely cannot let Will leave with him.
Bookmarked by whimsysful
11 Jul 2026
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Leno cocks his head. “What, so do you just go out to bars after wins and just stare at him flirt with whichever chick he’s tryna wheel and then go home alone? That’s fucking depressing, man.”
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Leno returns to the spot by his ear, harsher this time, and Will goes dizzy like he always does, biting back a moan. Leno’s head doesn’t need to get any bigger than it already is. He tangles a hand into his hair, instead, scraping absentmindedly against his scalp. It’s nice, sort of. He didn’t think he’d missed it, but now, in the dim light in the back of the bar, Will can admit to himself that he kind of did. Leno knows him better than any hookup ever could.
Leno pulls off, after a moment, hovering by his ear. “Is he looking?”
Will blinks a few times, eyes snapping past the wall to where Macklin stands, just to see the same sight he’s been seeing for the past twenty minutes, at least. “Obviously not,” he hisses, and he feels stupid that he even looked.-
Absurdly, it’s only then that he realizes that it’s not set in stone that Will feels the same. They do everything together. He kind of assumed Will would follow him into love as well.
Sort of stupidly, he feels his eyes prick and his chest feels empty. Still, Mack narrows his eyes, pressing his blunt fingernails into his palms. “You can’t just decide for me. I love you. Sucks to suck.” -
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Sid would leave him. Not yet, maybe, but Zhenya had gone into this clear-eyed. He wasn’t twenty years old anymore, buoyant with hope, blinded by his own naivety. For Sid—for any alpha, really—Zhenya was the interlude, not the finale. There would always be another Kathy waiting in the wings.
He wouldn’t try to change Sid’s mind, not this time. But maybe there was still a chance that he could change himself.
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Bookmarked by whimsysful
03 Jul 2026
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“Maybe I think,” he said. “When I’m young, stupid. I think, maybe it’s not so important—can’t bond, can’t have baby. Maybe I find right person.” He looked away, feeling cracked open, exposed. “But I’m wrong, you know? You don’t want me.”
“Geno,” Sid said, but Zhenya shrugged it off. He didn’t want to see the look on Sid’s face: the pity, the useless guilt.
“It’s long time ago,” he said. “It’s past, you know? And maybe it’s good thing. It’s good I know.”
It was true. He might have wasted so much more time, if Sid hadn’t—if he’d thought things could be different. He might’ve gotten his heart broken again and again. He might have sunk years of his life into loving Sid, or some other alpha who would set him aside when they got tired of him. It was better to know.
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Zhenya took a deep breath. “So it’s hard for me,” he said. “Okay? You say nice thing, thing I want to hear very much: oh, Geno, I see you, I want you, I want be with you. But I don’t know, Sid. Maybe you feel lonely, want now, but then one day—I find out at picnic.”
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Despite the reservations everyone seems to have about the color scheme and decor decisions and the pointed lack of Catholic priests in attendance, Will’s wedding turns out to be really, really nice.
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“God,” Gavin murmured. “Does Smitty even realize how good he has it? How fucking cute you are?”
Mack flies to Boston after the season is over to party with his brother and old BU friends.
He’s never done a keg stand before. But he’s very familiar with other things.
Series
- Part 3 of willmack fics
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Bookmarked by whimsysful
21 Apr 2026
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In July, Will Smith is traded to Calgary.
He sits across from his coach and nods in the right places and says the right things, and the whole time the floor is quietly dropping out from underneath him. Prior to this, he had a plan. San Jose. The rebuild. A future he'd let himself believe in without ever saying out loud who was at the center of it.
He texts Mack that night. He waits two hours. Yeah. That sucks. But you'll be good up there.
Nine words. From the person who has been the fixed point of his life for years now. And then silence, the kind that doesn't stop, that stretches through August and September and October while Will settles into a furnished Calgary apartment with a hollow feeling he's gotten very good at carrying. He stops checking for Mack's name on his phone sometime in August.
The Sharks come to Calgary for a game on a Tuesday in November. Will has not been thinking about it for six weeks. It's just a game. He's fine.
Then he gets hurt, and he opens his eyes, and Mack is already there.
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Bookmarked by whimsysful
18 Apr 2026
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Or maybe it had only ever been Will. This was the thought that settled lowest and coldest, the one that did the most damage. Maybe the line he'd thought they were constantly tethering hadn't been a line at all. Maybe Mack had just been his friend, straightforwardly and without complication, and Will had spent two years building an architecture of feeling around something that existed only on his side of it.
A great player and a great guy.
Maybe that was exactly what he was to Mack. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe Will had just been too close to see it clearly.