271 rambles, pt. 2
"and at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover," except it's Will's place on the bench next to Mack, and vice versa.
You can't really save seats on the bench, shifts too quick and adrenaline too high to maintain any real order, but they find a way.
Mack's head tilting at Will, hand curling with a,"Willy," conspiratorial smile on his lips. Beckoning him as if there's anywhere else he'd rather go. Their teammates next to him, clearing space on instinct.
Toff's eye-roll as he's unceremoniously shoved to the side by Mack's big ass, wiggling as he wedges himself between Will and the older man. Will's jostled by it, too, but he just scoots to the side as much as the space allows, hand already reaching out to grab the iPad, ready to place it in Mack's sweaty hands as he settles down.
It's routine. It's them. Where one goes, the other follows.