oh maybe Mack isn't a hockey player but a basketball player with Warriors and Smitty is still with San Jose and they keep getting put together to promote the Bay area
this is so fun!! i'm a sucker for an au <3 fic below the cut :)
Mack has lost track of how many times they've been paired up for these stupid "Bay Area Brotherhood" promotions.
He's not complaining, not really. Any excuse to spend more time around Will is fine by him. It's just—
"Another shoot?" Mack says, shouldering open the door to the studio, basketball duffel slung over one arm. The room smells like fresh coffee and hairspray, bright lights rigged up over a big backdrop that says Bay Area United. "Didn't we just do one of these?"
"We did," Will says, looking up from where he's perched on a stool, hands wrapped around a paper coffee cup. He grins, all bright teeth and crinkled blue eyes, and Mack's heart does something stupid in his chest. "Guess they can't get enough of us."
Mack huffs a laugh and tosses his bag onto a nearby chair. Will's already in his teal Sharks jersey, sleeves pushed up over strong forearms, jeans ripped artfully at the knees. Mack's pretty sure the stylists did it on purpose, made Will look as casually hot as possible.
It’s working. Way too well.
"Alright, fellas," one of the production assistants calls. "We’re just doing some quick promo shots today. Jerseys on, casual vibe, you know the drill."
Mack tugs on his Warriors jersey, smoothing it down over his chest. He doesn't miss the way Will's eyes flick over him, fast and greedy before he schools his expression into something more neutral.
Yeah, Mack thinks, caught you.
They start with some posed shots — arms crossed, back to back, tough guy expressions — but it’s hard to keep a straight face when Will keeps elbowing him, whispering dumb jokes under his breath.
"You look like you're about to beat me up," Will says, barely moving his lips, like he thinks the camera won't catch it.
"Maybe I am," Mack mutters back, smiling despite himself.
Will grins, dazzling and easy, and Mack has to look away before he does something embarrassing like sigh out loud.
The photographer barks out a laugh. "Loosen up, boys!"
Eventually they get told to "act natural," which mostly means leaning on each other and looking like they're best friends instead of— whatever tangled mess they've actually got going on.
"You coming to the Sharks game tomorrow?" Will asks casually between shots, tilting his head toward Mack, their shoulders brushing.
"If you'll leave me tickets," Mack says.
Will's smile softens. "Always."
Mack clears his throat, fiddling with the hem of his jersey. He feels too big and awkward next to Will sometimes, like he’s just this huge lump of a guy, no finesse. Basketball players aren’t exactly built for subtlety. Hockey players are all sleek and fast and sharp-edged, like Will. Like someone you’d chase across a frozen lake.
He’s still thinking about it hours later, after the shoot wraps and they're walking out into the parking lot together, the sun low and warm in the sky.
Will shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble across the pavement. "You wanna grab food?"
Mack looks over at him, heart squeezing. Will looks so casual about it, like it’s not the best offer Mack's had all week.
"Yeah," Mack says, voice a little rough. "Yeah, I'd like that."
Will beams at him and Mack thinks—
Maybe all these stupid promos are worth it after all.
♡
