Chapter Text
Mack’s cum hasn’t even cooled on his stomach when Will announces— “I think it’s time we found you a WAG.”
“A what?” Mack sputters, chest still heaving as he looks from Will’s hand curled around his dick up to his best friend’s tight-lipped expression.
“A WAG,” Will repeats as he reaches over to Mack’s bedside table to grab a tissue. “You know, like, a wife or girlfriend for athletes-“
“No, yeah, I know what a fucking WAG is, Smitty! I’m not an a complete idiot-“
“Uh huh, now we’re lying.”
“Will, why are you saying this to me now? Can’t a guy just cum and relax anymore?”
“It’s going to be your first year wearing the C, and I just think you need someone to…take care of you,” Will says as he tenderly wipes the cum from Mack’s abs with the tissue; he cleans Mack the same way he does everything for Mack— with loving precision.
To take care of me, Mack repeats to himself as his abs tighten under Will’s tender strokes.
Mack blinks as he watches Will wipe him down: “Well, that’s why I have you for, right?”
“Right, but I…” Will mutters as he wads up the tissue, aims, and scores it into the wastebasket in just one shot. “I’m your teammate, Mack. Obviously I can’t be your WAG.”
“Obviously, yeah,” Mack agrees and sags back into the mattress, just wanting to enjoy the post-cum-glow, but once Will’s got an idea in his head, he won’t fucking let it go. It’s one of his best and worst qualities. Because Mack just wants to float all fuzzy-brained and enjoy the flush of his orgasm, but Will’s still going-
“I’ll help you, of course; if I left it up to you, you’d be single and WAG-less until thirty-“
“Dude, what? The fuck is wrong with the girls I pick?” Mack groans as he lifts his hips up from the bed to help Will pull up his boxers for him.
“They’re puck bunnies, Mack. All they want to do is bounce on your dick and leave,” Will bitches and Mack looks down to notice that Will’s adjusting his hard-on in his sweats.
Ah, that’s why Will is being so fucking pissy.
And usually Mack is a gentleman and offers to return the bro-job favor, but this is a dumb-ass, stupid-ass conversation that’s put Mack in a bad mood, so he holds out on offering Will a handy.
Mack rubs his temple- “And what’s wrong with puck bunnies?”
“What’s wrong with puck bunnies?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong puck bunnies?” Mack asks as he crosses his arms, selfishly aware that he’s already emptied his balls and Will’s all uncomfortable right now.
“…you want me to be honest?”
“Sure.”
“There’s nothing wrong with puck bunnies,” Will explains in that bratty know-it-all voice he gets when he thinks he’s smarter than Mack. “There’s something wrong with you being twenty four and still picking them. You’re not going to get a WAG if you’re just- just fucking sluts.”
“You’re not supposed to call girls sluts just because they like to have sex. I like to have sex. Am I a slut?”
“Yes, Mack, you are a slut.”
And for some strange reason, even though Mack’s already cum, his spent dick twitches in his boxers at the sound of Will saying in his bored frat boy voice that Mack is a slut. Mack thinks suddenly about how hot it would be if Will called him a slut while he jerked him off next time. Fuck. Mack’s brain is so evil horny sometimes.
“You’re slut shaming me,” Mack whines as if he doesn’t like it.
“Alright, now you’re a feminist or something? You didn’t even finish your degree,” Will snaps, clearly in a mood, and Mack knows it has everything to do with the way that Mack is withholding returning the favor.
He pretends not to notice the way that Will’s rubbing the curve of his dick through his sweats with his palm. That’s what Will deserves— blue balls for being a slut-shamer.
“Alright, this is- this is just, like, your Catholic guilt thing isn’t it?” Mack says because he doesn’t know when to stop sometimes.
“Don’t hurt yourself using words you don’t understand,” Will snaps, cheeks flushing a pink that tells Mack that he’s hit the nail on the head.
And Mack’s not sure why Will still feels guilty about this when it’s not a big deal. They’re not getting all gay married about it. It’s fucking handjobs on a random Tuesday. Nobody’s going to the local San Jose pride parade.
Mack sighs; he hates being the bigger person. Usually Will is the bigger person when they get into a fight because Will’s older and a little bit less of a brat, but today it’s going to have to be all Mack. Ugh.
“Dude, let me…” Mack grumbles and reaches over to slap away Will’s hand and grope Will through his sweats.
Sure enough, Will visibly relaxes, spreading his thighs a little, giving Mack access, and Mack’s own dick gives an appreciative jerk at the sight of Will giving up control, for once.
“High strung little bitch,” Mack says affectionately as he pulls down Will’s sweats and boxers in one motion. Will’s red-hot tip slaps up against his abs, and it’s even leaking a little at the tip. Mack’s not gay but if he was, he would think that Will’s got the best looking dick he’s ever seen. It’s the perfect length and width, nice and circumcised, just like Mack’s.
“Uh huh, says the man-whore,” Will grits even as he bites his lip, and Mack meanly gets his hands around him and strokes him with a “shhhh, your favorite slut is working.”
“Do you- do you take notes from the puck bunnies?” Will huffs, and he’s way too mouth-y, which means that Mack isn’t putting his wrist into it.
“Yeah, that’s right— hey, if you- if you think about it, I’m like your puck bunny,” Mack bullshits and he’s surprised when Will moans at that.
It’s a real moan too, one of those that Will couldn’t hold back, and Mack laughs. It feels like a win.
Oh yeah, he’s about to shut Will up real good.
“This is another move they taught me,” Mack says, leans down, swirls a big ball of spit onto his tongue, opens his mouth, and slowly lets the spit slide down, slutty and wet from Mack’s tongue down onto the slit of Will’s dick.
It’s worth it just for the broken little “oh, Jesus” he rips out of Will as Mack massages his spit down Will’s shaft. The spit makes it easier for his hand to slide up and down Will, from the head of his leaking dick down to his balls. And Mack has no one to brag to this about -which is a shame!- because Mack gives an Olympic-level handjob. Mack gives every part of Will attention as he strokes, talks him through it with a- “yeah, like that, Smit? Like how I get you going? Look at you- talking shit a minute ago about getting me a wife, and now you can’t say anything, eh?
Alright. Maybe it’s hard to be sexy and degrading when you have a Canadian accent, but Mack still has a crazy stroke game. He watches as Will starts to fall apart, twitching intimately under Mack’s wet palm. Will makes a broken noise that sounds a lot like “Mack” as he tilts his head back.
“That’s it, Smitty,” Mack blabs, can’t keep his mouth shut when they’re doing this. “Love this, don’t you? Love that I’m your fucking puck bunny-“
And Will moans, helpless, and, even though he would deny it, his body answers Mack with a jerk and Will splatters a resounding “yes” all over himself. Mack loves how Will gets so wet and ruined when Mack beats him off.
Good thing I’m not gay; I’d be so in love with him— look at him, so fucking pretty when he finally lets me take care of him, Mack thinks as he keeps flicking his wrist, milking every last drop out of Will, watching as Will moans and squirms his way through his orgasm.
Will, always a polite boy, manages a breathy “thanks” even as he goes limbless back into the mattress. Mack reaches over for a tissue, wipes his boy clean, balls up the dirty tissue, and also scores it in the wastebasket.
Mack grins, satisfied by the stupid personal victories of making-
1. Will shoot white ropes of cum all over himself.
2. A cum-tissue goal in the basket.
3. Getting Will to Shut The Fuck Up about WAGs.
But as soon as Mack flops down next to Will and closes his eyes, his best friend is back at it—
“Let me find you a WAG, Mack. I promise I’ll pick you a good one-“
“Oh my god, are you not going to shut up about this until I say yes?”
“…this is important!”
“Fine, sure, whatever. Pick me a WAG, then,” Mack groans into his arm.
Whatever gets Will to shut up about it.