comets!!

🇲🇽🇺🇸 sjs supporter and defender

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comets, she/they, unfortunate hockey fan and prime supporter of the san jose sharks also, rpfer

also: goalie lover, ned and asky deserve the world and more!

originally @cometsdoesntknowpuck because i’m dumb and made it a side blog rather than an actual blog!

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chapter five of hunt you down (eat you alive) has been posted!

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micheal “irish goodbye” misa vs sam “i have to say goodbye to everyone and whoops, it’s been half an hour since i said i was leaving” dickinson

[castratecapuchin]

misa having bad dreams semi frequently is really great for the samisa cuddling stocks. sam’s a pretty good sleeper, perfect medium between light and heavy, can knock out fairly quickly, only snores a little, doesn’t sleep talk or sleepwalk like a freak. misa may be able to fall asleep anywhere but once he’s unconscious it’s like his brain is trying to do anything to make him suffer.

sam’s done his own research because he was curious after the first month or two of misa chattering away and then almost screaming himself awake. if sort of worries sam if he’s being honest, that all these sleep issues link back to anxiety and misa is such a non-complainer, such a say yes no matter what, such a glow with the flow guy. it’s like his brain at night is trying to make up for all the worry and stress and anxiety misa forces down during the day. it’s not like sam doesn’t know misa’s a worrier, he’s had him ramble nonstop questions in the front seat of his car when it was media day, and has watched misa literally back himself into a wall when one of the guys brought over a rowdy dog. misa’s got his own shit, sam knows, shit that sam tries to make his own frequent enough but it’s harder when it’s hiding in a dream.

it’s almost midnight, an hour after misa fell asleep with his arm tucked into his chest, and sam’s still scrolling on his phone. but soon enough, misa jolts up breathing heavy and wide eyed in the quiet room like he just emerged from the deep end of the pool. sam’s immediately on high alert, mostly because misa suddenly jolting up to a sitting position scared the shit out of him, and also because misa kind of looks like he’s going to cry. it’s unfortunately not that uncommon of a situation so sam watches quietly for a moment as misa puts one hand over his eyes and one over his chest like he’s feeling for a heartbeat. it was awkward at first, however many road trips ago, for sam to ask if misa was all good after clearly a bad nightmare. now, sam mostly just feels his heart clench in his own chest.

you okay, mis? sam asks carefully, because the answer is always sorry, bad dream, which is not an answer to sam’s question at all. what happens this time is misa turns his too wet eyes on sam and asks can i sleep with you? sam says yeah automatically because what else was he going to say? yeah, that’s hella weird but okay; sure, but why are you asking; yes, just don’t sleep talk in my ear. maybe this is normal for misa and he’s been trying to not freak out sam by asking, sam can imagine him curled up in zayne’s bed, scared and not scared.

he watches as misa crawls out of his bed and into sam’s, tucking the comforter all the way up to his chin. sam’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do here but he puts his phone down on the bedside table and lays on his side to face misa, arm outstretched to rub circles into his back but also push him closer to the center of the bed, closer to sam. he only puts together now that all misa asked was to sleep in the same bed, not cuddle, or have sam rub his back to try and let the tears out. it’s happening anyways and misa has his head tilted inwards, forehead touching sam’s chest, quiet damp spot growing on his shoulder. sam lets his own head fall forwards to not quite press his lips into the top of misa’s head, that would probably be embarrassing but then again, misa is the one curled up in sam’s bed because he had a bad dream.

it’s grossly domestic and lame and kinda gay, sam thinks but he doesn’t really mind all those things right now. misa’s still a little shaky, and sam can feel his unsteady breath and beating heart. just a dream, mikey, sam murmurs into his hair because mikey is safe territory and something like baby or babe or honey is not anything he could come back from. maybe beauty would have gone over fine. misa nods into his chest and okay, sam gets it. he runs his hand up and down misa’s back, even when his breathing evens out again and he goes lax in sam’s arms. it’s like standing guard, making sure no other bad dreams get into misa’s head while he’s sleeping in sam’s bed, curled against sam’s body.

they wake up with sam’s arms locked around misa’s waist and pinning him to the mattress. they keep waking up all eight other nights of the roadie in similar positions: spooning with sam plastered to misa’s back; misa curled half on top of sam’s whole body; misa in between sams legs, head resting on his stomach; back to back; legs tangled together; sam’s hand down misa’s pants; both on their stomachs with misa laying over sam’s back; chest to chest and their faces inches apart. its preventative measures, misa just seems less likely to cry himself awake if he’s in sam’s bed with sam’s hands all over him. the things you do for your bro.

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do you guys think sam does the whole “micheal misa boba eyes” thing and graf stops drinking boba because if he has to hear sam say something about him drinking misa’s eyes he’s going to strangle him and misa apologizes by buying graf boba anytime they go out

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Ok wait so would you ever do a part 2 where we get the argument between Leno and Will or more importantly Mack comforting Will?

fighting with leno is like staring down a dog and waiting for it to lunge. will is circled by leno, cutting him off from seeing mack who seems to understand the game leno is playing. he spends most of the party tailed by leno, his ever so imposing body right behind him as will makes his way through the house.

he sees mack sparingly, half-stuck to gabe who watches them with worried eyes every time their eyes meet. it makes something painful curl behind will’s ribs, knowing that they keep putting gabe in this position of having to chose because they long since gave up on the whole neutrality thing.

the room is quiet, gabe, mack and will squeezed onto the bed as leno romps around the house, turning lights off and locking doors. mack is fast asleep and will is watching gabe over the rise and fall of mack’s chest. he wants to apologize, wants to reach out and touch gabe and hope he still understands will, that the distance between them didn’t disrupt who they were.

gabe is staring at the ceiling, expression clear of anything but the exhaustion that seems to always cling to him. he’s there, physically within reach but will’s hand makes it as far as across mack’s chest when the door opens.

leno stomps in, feet always almost too heavy and he glares at mack who is almost cradled between him and gabe, who doesn’t look away from the ceiling, but edges just enough closer to mack.

will gets up because this has to end somehow, fallout be damned. he misses his best friend, the one he had by his side since they were kids and not this always-angry guy who acts like will is something to own.

he shoves his way past and isn’t surprised to be shoved into the hall bathroom directly across gabe’s room. the door shuts behind them harshly and the dog lunges, hands pawing at will and will—he lets him, let’s him drag will’s shirt up and put meaty paws on him, pull him which ever way before he pushes back

“why’d you bring him?” leno asks, scruff scratching up the pale skin of will’s neck and will shoves him back, chest heaving and the warmth in his gut turning violent as leno huffs, back pressed against the wall.

“he’s my best friend,” will says, aiming to hurt because he’s as much as a hypocrite as leno, “why wouldn’t i bring him.” and it was less that he invited mack and more of mack following him everywhere, entitled to the life will sometimes keeps separate when they’re in san jose, but he spent marmon with him and gabe and knew that mack was coming home with him regardless of an invitation.

will knows that leno’s dislike for mack is less of mack as a player and more as the person will left leno for, and in a way he’s right. he did leave boston for a failing franchise, to tie his name with the macklin celebrini that racked up 114 points and broke records like it was his right, who’s name was scribbled on a majority of will’s goals and vice versa.

because deep down, they know the truth: will loves mack in a way he will never love leno.

leno seethes from the door, chest heaving—because his nose is almost as fucked up as his—and will can see the insults that form in his mind before they leave his mouth.

“i don’t know why you can’t even try to be friendly with him,” will spits, “he’s being perfectly polite and you become even more of an asshole.”

“i don’t like him,” leno says and it’s true, he doesn’t like the way mack looks at will, doesn’t like the way mack waits for will, a hand always on his lower back, not exactly leading but following, eyes attentive to everything will says.

he hates the way will has become synonymous with mack, so intertwined that he can’t look up will’s name without hearing celebrini to smith, smith to celebrini

“yeah that’s fucking obvious, leonard.” will says, “whatever it is, you have to get the fuck over it.”

he’s shoved back, stumbling as he grapples at thin air to not land on his ass before getting himself together and shoving leno back. will isn’t a fighter, has never won a fight and is quick to give in the moment a hand wraps around the back of his neck.

leno knows this and even through his anger, through whatever resentment that has made itself at home in him, he doesn’t hurt will, grabs and pulls and shoves but not enough to injure.

“you left!” leno finally shouts when will’s bitten-down nails dig into his shoulder, “you left and didn’t even think twice! you went back on your promise the moment he fucken showed up.”

annoyance flares up in will, the undercurrent of pain receding, “you cannot still be on this! it’s been two years, lenny, i have apologized and apologized, i’ve cried over it, agonized over leaving you and gabe for weeks before i signed the elc.”

the fight leaves him so suddenly, will has to grab at him so he doesn’t fall straight to the floor.

“he took you from me.” leno whispers, “you were supposed to stay, we were supposed to win the natty and be rookies together and you fucking left.”

will’s nose burns as he pulls away. leno has always been a crier, cried over anything if he can get away with it. it made will’s chest ache violently as he carefully cups the back of leno’s neck.

he runs his hand through his hair, chest burning with the urge to do something, to grab at leno and shake him until he understands that this was always the way it was going to end. even if will had stayed, they would’ve been separated by the time their collegiate season ended, will would have still gone to san jose, still played on mack’s wing and let himself be wrapped around his fingers.

“i love you, leno, you have to know that i still love you.” will says, “but we can’t keep doing this, you can’t keep thinking that you own me or something, you didn’t even want me when i told you how i felt.”

and leno can try and twist everything to be blamed on mack, but the truth was that there was that chance he would’ve picked leno, would’ve somehow made it work between san jose and washington but leno had pulled away, a distant look in his eyes and a frown on his face.

will had licked his wounds, prayed about it even and signed the fucken elc months later so why does leno insist on acting like the victim?

he needs to get out, needs to leave and let leno hang in the back of his mind until either can apologize because it could’ve been way worse. leno can be mean, the type that lingers under your skin and taints everything you do, his voice constantly in the back of your mind.

he reaches for the door, tongue thick in his mouth and lungs burning when leno says: “you’re just a shiny toy for him, and there will come a time where an even more shiny toy will come and he will throw you away without thinking.”

it startles a laugh out of will as he turns to look at leno, “you don’t fucken know him! you think you know everything about him but the truth is that you need to twist him in order for you to feel better and if you have to convince yourself that he secretly hates me or something, then that says a lot more about you than him.”

he leaves leno in the bathroom, heading across the hall as his eyes brim with tears. the bed is empty, both gabe and mack gone so he closes the door and sits down. he doesn’t cry, but it’s a near thing as he hears the bathroom door open and then the rev of an engine because leno always ends up leaving one way or another.

will stands up and walks through the quiet house. he doesn’t look too closely at the pictures hung on the wall as he makes his way outside. he wanders down to the beach, nose still twitching with the urge to breakdown but he sees mack, shoulder pressed against gabe.

“mack.” he calls out and mack looks over his shoulder at him and stands up. he says something to gabe who doesn’t turn to look at him but nods at whatever mack says before mack makes his way over.

mack’s eyes run over his face, a frown on his own before he wraps an arm around will and guides him back to the house. his hand is heavy at the small of his back, and he doesn’t move away as they go back to the room.

“find flights back to boston,” mack says quietly, green eyes staring into will’s blue ones, “i’ll pack our things and we can go home.”

will nods, finding his phone between the blankets as mack moves around, finding their suitcases and picking up their clothes.

will finds their flights, buys their tickets and finally breakdown in mack’s arms. mack holds him through it, arms tight around him. mack is quietly talking to him, something about the training camp in a few weeks, the sharks that’ll join them and the apartments they’ll look at come august.

mack drives them to the airport, hand on will’s thigh and keeping him grounded until they get to boston, to his half-shared apartment with grace. mack gets him in the shower, dutifully goes through his hair routine and drying him off before tucking them in bed, a heavy weight around his back.

mack has will’s phone, leno’s contact pulled up and he watches, eyes half-lidded and tired as the [block this number] pops up and his eyes slip shut when mack presses on yes.

he’ll deal the consequences later, when he no longer feels like his heart will rip in two.

[comettalkspuck]

sam who has gotten so used to taking care of mees that he doesn’t think twice of getting his plate ready when they’re in some lake house in toronto and mees is half awake at the table and luke is watching him with carefully eyes because what the fuck does sam dickinson know about his baby brother’s breakfast preferences and mees lets out a little appreciative hum and blinks his wide doe eyes at sam who hands him his mug of coffee wordlessly and nearly loses the battle in pressing a kiss to mees’ head because he can feel luke’s glare from across the table

and then they’re sun-warm, eyes heavy with the type of sleep that hits you after you spent hours under the sun. the dock under them is almost too warm, their pink skin and the verge of becoming red and painful, but mees is pressed against sam, almost half-tucked under him, nose pressed to his shoulder and their hands loosely interlocked and luke definitely has fucking questions but he keeps them to himself

and then they’re back inside and the week drags on in the half domestic-ness that sam doesn’t really blink at because we do this shit at home anyway so are you going to let me in or not when misa has to shower and sam follows him in without thinking because he’s tired and sticky and his stomach kind of hurts because he definitely ate too much and misa looks at him for second before shrugging and let’s sam wash his hair while he chirps at him for his 2 in 1 and forces misa to use his body wash instead

and luke, who had spent most of his life looking out for his little brother who eats ketchup with anything that he can get away with, who sleeps in until someone has to physically get him from bed and started drinking coffee way too young, has to come to terms with the fact that someone else knows all of misa’s tells without misa having to spell it out and it’s sam fucking dickinson of all people, who’s tone is sometimes mean and sharp but never quite with misa who rolls his eyes when it is and tells him to shut the fuck up sam oh my god and sam gets this crazy glint in his eyes and luke has to look away and ignore the noises from misa’s room when they eventually disappear upstairs

sam who bitches and moans about misa not cutting the watermelon right and takes over and forces misa to watch from where he’s sat on the counter by the cutting board, sam who lathers in misa in sun screen and lets misa do it back with feather light fingertips that dig into the gaps of his ribs and sam thinks they fit too nicely there, and i’ll give you anything if you ask, carve my organs out to make space for you if you keep looking at me but that’s too crazy to say so he shoves misa off the dock and tells him to stay on his feet and cannonballs in after and lets the water muffle misa screeching i’ll fucking drown you because sam will let him if he wanted too

misa who lets his mind wander away when sam takes them out on the boat, his mouth running almost as fast as the engine, the lake water spraying at them in a fine mist until they’re stagnant and the sun is way too bright and they have their stupid matching bucket hats and he’s on sam’s lap, arms thrown over sam’s broad shoulders and sam’s pulling him closer, teeth and patchy scruff marking his neck up

luke simply sighs when they come back, pointedly giving his baby brother a look and narrowing his eyes at sam who grins too widely and a bit too smug as misa pulls him to the bonefire and tells him to get it started and why the hell should i know how to start a fire and you watch that guy all the time and you can’t start a fire?

luke leaves them alone, deciding that if misa ends up killing sam that he’ll have plausible deniability

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writing the aftermath of the willmackgabeleno thing and it’s all over the place lowkey but i just need the mack comforting will and taking him home part

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baby alpha misa and his scary dog omega sam send tweet

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everyone is mean about matt rempe but that’s my friend :/

[tanlineswrites]

Enormous weekend upcoming for me and me fellow willmackgabeleno connoisseurs

[comettalkspuck]

i don’t think any of my pairings are actually dating but samisa are so “$20 is $20” coded like yeah sam kisses misa when he goes to pick him up before practices and games because it’s fun and convenient and misa grins at him, canines on display and misa presses up against sam in the quiet of his room, the faint sound of the tv and toff and cat in the living room and sam’s neck is right there and misa has been fighting the urge to sink his teeth in all day

and twenty dollars are twenty dollars until a guy is talking misa up at some bar they’re not supposed to be at anyway so sam has to go rescue misa because he’s getting that glazed look in his eyes sam seems to be the only one to notice and his hand feels like a brand when it slips around misa’s waist and sam is the perfect amount of polite when he tells the guy to kick rocks

and then misa is running his tongue over his teeth and sam is almost positive he can already taste the shirley temple misa had when he turns to him and tilts his head as says: “wanna make out in the bathroom?”

and well, twenty dollars are twenty dollars and misa tastes like maraschino cherries so win win in sam’s books

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macklin’s hair is so viciously auburn oh my god

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it’s the fifth of july, somewhere between three and four am. the house should be quiet, partygoers drunk and passed out, but it’s not because the walls are thin and the bathroom walls thinner.

gabe can hear will and leno going at it, words twisted with the type of vitriol only alcohol can bring out. they had disappeared at some point, one after the other and when they didn’t come back, gabe knew they were fighting.

he thinks of their last days in bc, when will told them he was leaving and gabe had nodded because he knew. he knew when the buzzer echoed across the rink and the devastation had settled heavy in his chest. he knew when he saw will looking at the score like if he could change it by sheer force.

he knew when macklin celebrini went first overall for the sharks.

will had dreams bigger than the burgundy and gold jerseys, dreams bigger than a national championship in the ncaa, dreams that didn’t involve him or leno or fowler or voter and anyone in between. it was the same dream as his and leno’s, but his dream had developed, centered around a boy with a too big smile and sea-green eyes.

the arguing escalates and gabe is tired of stepping in the middle of them, of leno’s vitriol and will’s forced apathy. he used to jump in the middle, soothe both of them until they could stand to be in the same room as each other.

the walls seem to shake as the bed shifts beside him, a hand carelessly hitting him before mack frowns. he was a surprise, trailing in behind will with a nervous look on his face.

gabe doesn’t really care of what mack and will have going on; he had will first, him and leno had him before mack.

“are they fighting?” mack asks, voice heavy with sleep and it reminds gabe of the mack he played against while in bc. mack with his tooth gap and larger-than-life hockey abilities. gabe also knows, briefly, the mack before he became the next sidney crosby, the savior of the sharks.

it’s also the same mack from marmon, with a newspaper boy hat, sunglasses that weren’t his and flushed cheeks and giggly, draped over will and gabe like it was nothing, like if leno wasn’t itching to reach over and shove mack away, a metaphoric dog circling them, protecting something he thinks is still his.

“yeah.” gabe mutters, eyeing the door like will or leno will bulldoze through it.

mack moves to get up and gabe grabs at him, “don’t.”

he gives gabe a strange look, his eyes drifting to where gabe’s hand is wrapped around his wrist. gabe doesn’t let go, pulls him down until he’s laid beside him again.

for as long as he can remember, he had to pick a side, the deciding vote in their trio. it made leno huffy when he chose will, will would frown, tilt his head as if he could change gabe’s mind with a single glance when gabe went with whatever leno wanted.

he chooses himself, in the room he always slept in when they came down to the cap, in the same bed he shared with will where they had exchanged kisses and handies and swapped promises like they meant something real and tangible and not something you say when the heat in your stomach bursts and their name is a prayer on your lips.

gabe has something real and tangible in new york, in his small two bedroom apartment that cost an arm and leg but has a nice view of the city at night and gloomy early mornings. he has the vets that adore him and praise him when he puts in the effort and results starts to show even as late as they did in the season.

he’ll have drew beside him and he has this thing with remps he wants to try and make work and he doesn’t have time to wonder if leno and will are going to have twisted hate sex like they do every time they met up. if fowler was here, he would’ve dragged gabe away, sit on him if he had to to stop him from trying to put the broken pieces together.

he looks over at mack who is staring at the ceiling, gabe’s hand still wrapped around his wrist. he thinks of letting go, but it feels like if he lets go of mack, then he lets go of will and his brain still can’t part with that, so he tugs at mack until he gets the hint and then they’re sneaking across the house and down to the beach.

mack is quiet as they sit on the sand, head bowed back as he leans on his elbows, long body stretched out in front of him. gabe sits with his knees tucked to his chest, his head resting on his knees as he watches the waves roll in.

it’s nice, simply existing in the presence of another person and not feeling like he has to defend will and leno. he spent most of the day acting like a barrier, eyes constantly flitting over their friends to find them, pressed together like if leno’s grip on will still exists and will’s willingness to appease his friend is nothing if not just politeness.

the sun slowly rises, and gabe thinks of what he’s going to do once he gets back to new york. he has the dev camp thing with drew that he did last year with remps, and he has a tentative date with him too. he thinks of the not-dates remps took him out on under the guise of getting to know new york.

mack lets out a huffy sigh, sitting up properly. his shoulder brushes against gabe’s and he’s burrowing his hands into the sand, lifting them up and watching the grains slip through his fingers.

“sorry this is how your fourth ended.” gabe says and mack snorts, a grin beginning to peek at the edges of his mouth.

“i’m canadian, traitor.” he says, “i couldn’t give less of a shit about the fourth, i just wanted to see will.”

it makes gabe laugh even though something small seizes in his chest; he swore himself to red, blue and white, to fifty stars and a dream that died a year ago. he’ll never know what it’s like to wear the maple leaf and play beside the greats of canada that now include mack.

distantly, he hears a door slam shut and the rev of an engine. gabe doesn’t turn to look, simply presses into mack a bit more. will is going to find them soon, blue eyes shiny with tears and nose twitching in effort to not burst into tears because a part of will is always going to love leno, probable-first loves and the devastation that comes with it.

“take will home.” gabe says, “don’t let him text leno.” because leno knows that will always crawls back to him in some way shape or form.

will calls mack’s name, voice shaky despite his effort to keep it steady. gabe turns back to the water and wonders what remps is doing.

mack stands up, brushing the sand off of him, “see you in october.”

gabe nods, waving him away.

mack can keep will, can learn all his soft and squishy sides, can learn what pisses him off and how sweet he can be when he wants something.

gabe has a new dream, one in new york with a guy who looks at him like he hung the moon and doesn’t expect more, with a team he knows that has his back and the visceral need to be good enough.

[comettalkspuck]

big fan of toff loving sam at the rink but wanting him far from his home off of it like no sam, i don’t think you and mees need to hang out—stop eating the ice cream it’s cats—mees get him out of here and sam cackles the entire way up to mees’ room because obviously he was gonna force his way to stay one way or another and mees has this soft, amused look on his face as he closes the door behind him and changes into comfortable clothes before turning his pc on

sam never really thinks his little hang outs through so sometimes it leaves him alone in misa’s room as he plays whatever game got his attention that week. misa’s bed is comfortable though, with four pillows instead of the regular, normal two and there’s a stuffed animal that could be a bunny sat in the corner of the bed and it looks worse for wear; the faded color has hints of pink, the left ear is shorter than the right one and the nose is rubbed white. he could pick it up, tease mees until he’s red in the face about needing a stuffed animal to sleep, but there’s something heavy in his bones so he spreads himself out on the bed.

his phone buzzes in his pocket but he ignores it even when the buzzing becomes insistent—it’s the old london knights groupchat—and he mutes it when he finally pulls his phone out. briefly he sees messages from cowboy and barks, something about martone and philly and toronto that he ignores in favor of misa turning to him.

misa stares at him, headphones pulled around his neck and hair a mess. he’s tired, he can see it in the way misa slouches forward, barely but sam notices because it’s his job too and the way he blinks slowly, mouth turned down into a frown. it takes another second for sam to realize toff is yelling for them to come and eat or so help me god i will eat this all on my own and the two race downstairs, pushing and shoving at each other until they get to the table

toff still looks a little annoyed when sam pulls misa’s chair closer, their thighs pressed together and elbows bumping as they eat. cat looks amused, crystal blue eyes glistening happy under the dining room lights as sam goes on a tangent about a video he watched about some infrastructure project because he’s weird like that, his whole youtube feed is shows and movie essays, home projects and everything and nothing that makes sense.

misa lets him take control of the conversation, horribly aware of the way he laughs a little too hard and his smile is a little too wide, but sam is sat beside him and not alone in his still-too empty apartment, he’ll go to sleep with a full stomach of a home cooked meal and not whatever he orders.

toff huffs when cat shoves him into the living room, leaving the messy kitchen for them to tackle. sam puts his music on, whatever genre that he’s currently into the crooning sound of artists and lost lovers, of rolling valleys and love that can only exist in the music notes of a song.

except misa loads the dishwasher and sam wipes the table down with a rag and they’re not in a cabin surrounded by green valleys and they’re not ranch hands but two hockey players in the kitchen of their alternate captain and he crowds misa into the corner of the kitchen, mumbling the lyrics of but darlin i could love you well ‘til the roll is called on high into the line of misa’s neck, feels the rush of blood running through his veins, and the urge to bite

toff can see them when he stands up to the bathroom and resists the urge to pull sam away and send him on his way when misa looks content, face smoothed out and looking every bit of an eighteen year old. cat has a knowing expression on his face as he carefully heads to the bathroom.

when he comes back, misa and sam are gone, but the kitchen is clean and the trash is taken out and replaced with a new trash bag so maybe it’s not all that bad that sam is here

[careersincombat]

the making of sam dickinson - dec 2025

[comettalkspuck]

willmacksamisa ramblings because they’ve taken over my whole day and mack and misa will listen to whatever will and sam are saying, they plan the trips and the get together; will and sam are on parallel thought processes and mackmisa just have to be pretty and show up

but also misa having this cute almost hero-worship crush on mack, sam trying to act like he doesn’t care because he’s roomed with mack and knows how he is outside of whatever twisted dynamic he has with will and no mees it’s not at all like us they’re freaks with a capital f and will is really nice to misa when he has questions and will answers them in that straightforward way of his and not in the weird roundabout way sam does when he makes misa wolf for the answer instead

and sam is some weird mean thing with mack because mack enjoys the back and forth bickering that turns into an impromptu wrestling match that they’re 3-4 because sam used will as a distraction to pin mack down

and will tries not to be weird about sam and mack, sam who was captained by mack in worlds and it really was special smit, but i was his captain first yknow and will tries to be normal about the whole thing, but maybe getting drunk and wandering the streets of some european country solidified their relationship or something and will is normal about the whole thing actually fuck you sam

but also mack knowing what it means to sit down in silence and let his thoughts run away from him so he lays on sam’s couch because it’s weirdly more comfortable then the one he has at home and misa is there, drowning in a sharks sweater with the 6 on the chest and thinks of will’s sweater on his bed, the drawstrings frayed at the end because of how much he chews on them and then misa is scooting closer because his thoughts are louder and the chill is threatening to eat him alive

and then sam and will come in, sam being loud and annoying in a way will easily matches and their food is going to get cold so they enter the living room and find their boys wrapped up around each other.

misa is half hidden in mack’s chest, the obnoxious teal blanket he had picked when sam’s bedside drawer broke and they went to ikea and misa had carried the blanket around until sam pulled it from his arms and set it on the conveyer belt and ignored the happy glint in misa’s eyes because he thought of doing something crazy like kissing misa in public

mack barely opens his eyes when he says “if either of you wake him up i will kill you myself” because misa had let out this terrible, pained whimper that made mack’s chest tighten and pulled him closer.

sam knows the feeling as he runs a hand through misa’s hair and he gets a huffy sigh in response. he thinks of buffalo, of calgary where misa snuck into his bed for the first time and minnesota where not even the elation of his first nhl goal was able to keep the chill of the monsters in his mind away and sam had to listen to the quiet whines and not be able to do anything about it.

will pulls him away and they set their food at the island before sitting in front of the couch. will feels the faint brush of mack’s hand at the back of his head as sam puts something on youtube, letting the sounds of the survivor guy trekking through crunchy alaskan snow fill the room.

mack’s fingers go lax and sam’s shoulder pressed against his, his warmth lingering whenever he shifts. he hears misa let out a soft whine, mack’s sleepy coos and sam letting out a little humming sound.

will falls asleep with his head on sam’s shoulder and an ache in his chest.