Daylight
Will Smith x Hughes!Reader
wc: 16.6k
Summary: You swore off hockey players, comparisons, and living in anyone’s shadow, but then a spilled cup of coffee and a very persistent boy make you look back and realize it was never about the sport.
Warning: suggestive moment, nothing described in detail tho
This is part 2!! Part 1 here
It’s strange at first, the fact that Will knows now. Not in a bad way, it’s just present now. He knows your history, the weight of your childhood, he knows why you quit hockey now. But instead of pulling back scared, it makes him pull you in closer.
He’s still terrified of them finding out about him. He lowers his voice when you’re on call with them, even if he’s in a different room. He jokes about needing a security team if he’s gonna hold your hand in public.
But despite joking about the situation, you’re grateful he doesn’t treat you any differently. He doesn’t bring your brothers up randomly in conversation or talk about their games. Honestly, he really avoids it unless you bring it up first. The only thing that really changes is the way he looks at you, now with a bit more understanding about you, like he’s proud of how you navigated it all.
And weirdly, him knowing has lifted a huge weight off of you. Because now it’s not a secret, you don’t feel pressured to keep everything about your life under wraps.
You tell Will that you’ll figure out how to tell the three of them eventually, and he’s not worried about it. He trusts you.
And time passes like that, just the two of you in your own little bubble, at peace with this little half-secret you have.
You’re constantly at each other's dorms, Gabe and Ryan have grown accustomed to your presence at all odd hours. You’re a regular at the hockey games, sometimes bringing friends, sometimes by yourself.
One night the arena feels louder than usual. You’re sitting with a few people from your Econ class and watching Will be an absolute monster on the ice.
His first goal comes halfway into the first, it’s off a rebound and he’s quick with it. The line wraps him in a hug but he still manages to find you in the stands. He’s smiling, like he knows you’re watching.
His second goal he picks up from a dropped pass at the blue line. He cuts around a defender and whips the puck top corner like it’s nothing. The crowd erupts, you and your classmates with them.
The building is buzzing now, the atmosphere electric. Will is on hatty watch now, and you know he wants it. He’s restless, flying down the ice, taking every chance he gets to shoot the puck. He gets a breakaway and you’re on your feet instantly. He dekes the goalie out, drawing him left then he shoots right. It’s a goal.
You don’t even realize you’re screaming until the girl next to you is laughing. Your hands are over your mouth in shock. You can’t even catch a glimpse of him before he’s swamped by his teammates.
Later, you’re waiting in the same spot as always. The doors of the locker room open and players begin flooding out. You smile at the ones you recognize while looking for Will. Then there he is, his hair damp, shirt half tucked, practically radiating energy. He spots you instantly and makes his way straight over. He wraps you up in a hug, like always.
“Three?” You say in disbelief, shaking your head. “You’re crazy.”
He shrugs like it was nothing but he’s beaming. “I was feeling generous.”
“You’re insufferable.” You laugh.
He just bends down, catching you in a kiss, full of the energy he hasn’t burned off from the game. Probably much too much for a locker room hallway, so you pull back.
“You wanna celebrate?” You whisper, leaning close enough so he’s the only one who catches the words.
He leans back, eyes wide. “Oh?”
“You had a hat trick, Will.”
“That I did.”
“Come back to my dorm.”
The walk back to your room is hurried. His hand is low on your back the whole way, fingers brushing your skin under your shirt. He keeps pausing the walk to kiss you.
By the time your door closes, the air has shifted, it’s charged. You push him lightly against the door, hands dragging up his chest.
“You played so good.” You tell him softly.
His hands find your hips immediately. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m proud of you.”
He kisses you again, slower now. Not rushed anymore, deeper. His hands trace the curve of your waist, slipping under your shirt.
“I swear I heard you cheering.” He murmurs, pulling back slightly.
“I was not that loud.”
“I think you were.”
You laugh and he takes that as his opportunity to kiss down your neck, lingering just long enough to make you gasp.
“That’s gonna bruise.” You warn.
He hums, considering the very real possibility of that.
“You started this.” He decides, basically okaying it.
He slides his hands under your thighs and lifts you easily. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.
“But I had three goals.” He says, kissing you again. “I deserve something.”
You roll your eyes but your fingers are already threading through his hair.
“You’re cocky.”
“Only a little.”
He carries you to the bed like he’s done the times before. No hesitation when he lays you down. Just the familiarity of how close he is. His mouth trails down slowly, taking his time, hands dragging up and down your sides like he’s going to memorize you. You pull him back up, taking his hands.
“Wanna celebrate you.” You murmur into his mouth as you pull him in for a kiss.
“Later. You first.” He grins.
You shake your head immediately, catching his jaw with your hand and guiding his face back to yours.
“Absolutely not. You had three goals. It’s about you right now.”
His smile softens a little.
“You being there was all I needed.” He murmurs.
You’re not letting him hide behind that. You roll over so he’s on his back now, you straddling overtop of him. He laughs in surprise, his hands finding your waist again.
“You’re bossy.”
“I’m celebrating your win.” You correct, leaning down to kiss him again, your hands tracing down his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, how he exhales sharply when your mouth trails down his neck.
“You’re gonna bruise me.” He warns lightly.
“You started it.” You echo, smiling against his skin.
He laughs quietly. His hands slide up your back, pulling you down against him.
“You’re unreal,” he breathes out, voice filled with awe.
When he flips you back over this time, it’s gentler, wanting to be closer. His forehead rests against yours for a second, both of you breathing the same air. The rest blurs softly, sheets tangling around your legs and his voice low in your ear and the feeling of him holding you like he doesn’t want the night to end.
Later, the room is dim except for the small lamp by your desk. You’re the first to move, sliding carefully out of his arms. He makes a quiet groaning noise in protest, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“Where are you going?” He mumbles.
“Just a second.” You say quietly, moving around your room.
You pull your underwear back on and then reach for his hoodie. It hangs big on you, draping down to your mid thigh. It still smells like him.
When you turn back, Will is propped up on an elbow, watching you through half-closed eyes.
“You’re stealing my stuff.”
“You left this here.”
He just shakes his head fondly and reaches down to pull his own underwear back on before flopping onto his back. You crawl back into bed beside him, sliding into his side automatically. Your leg wraps around his, his hand finding your waist and rubbing gently.
“You okay?” He asks quietly.
“Yeah.” You nod against his chest.
He presses a kiss into your hair.
“That was a good game.” You murmur.
“That was a good celebration.” He replies, making you laugh softly.
The adrenaline from earlier is gone now and Will feels heavy in that relaxed, boneless way he only gets when he’s completely worn. His breathing slows first but yours follows shortly after.
“Thanks for being there tonight,” he says, barely awake.
“Always,” you whisper.
He hums like that’s the best possible answer. Within minutes, his breathing evens out completely. You trace little circles against his ribs, listening to the steady thud of his heart under your ear. And you both fall asleep tangled together, completely unaware that your peace will never stay undisturbed for long.
The first thing you register in the morning is the sound of your dorm room door opening. No knocking or anything, just opening.
Your brain is still foggy with sleep, and with everything that happened last night, so for a second you think maybe it’s your RA. Maybe one of your friends is coming over and you just forgot. Maybe you’re still dreaming.
Then the door swings all the way open.
“Surprise!”
You know that voice. You were raised in the same house as that voice.
You shoot upright in bed so fast that you get lightheaded. Standing in your doorway like they pay rent are Jack, holding a box of donuts from Dunkin’, Luke, holding a drink carrier also from Dunkin’, and Quinn, who’s currently flipping on the overhead lights.
You freeze because you are not alone in your single dorm. You are also wearing a maroon Boston College sweatshirt that is not yours and too big on you, hem just barely covering your underwear.
Your bare legs are tangled in the sheets, sheets which are very obviously not arranged in a way that suggests sleep was the only thing happening last night. The comforter is half on the floor, one pillow at the foot of your bed. The air smells faintly of sweat, men’s cologne and the oil diffuser that is working overtime.
Behind you is a very shirtless man. One of his arms is still loosely around your waist, his hand low on your hip. There’s a faint red bruise forming on his collarbone, and a few scratches trailing down his shoulder blade that definitely weren’t there yesterday. His shorts are on the floor mixed in a pile of your clothes that tells a very clear story to anyone with eyes.
There’s also a mark blooming just above your collarbone where your his sweatshirt has slipped down slightly.
You move fast, shoving his arm off of you and scooting forward like you’re the only one in bed. It’s too late though. Jack just stares, Luke’s grin falters, Quinn’s eyes narrow. There’s a long, unbearable silence. Then, from behind you and slightly muffled into your pillow,
“Why are the lights on?” He groans.
You close your eyes, dropping your head. Of course he wakes up now.
Will rolls over and stretches, muscles flexing and his hair an absolute mess, and very much just in his underwear. He’s blissfully unaware of the three pairs of eyes on him. Then Will sits up. There’s a slow blink as he processes light and sound and then—
And then he sees them. You watch reality slam into him like a train. You have never seen someone wake up so fast.
Jack drops the donut box and it hits the floor with a dull thud. Luke’s jaw drops. Quinn goes frighteningly still. You feel Will turn and stare at you like he doesn’t know what to do. You can’t look at him, you can’t look away from the horror in front of you.
Jack is the first to speak.
“Why…” he starts slowly, stepping inside your room. “…is there a half naked man in my sister’s bed?”
Will opens his mouth but no sound comes out.
Luke finally blurts out, “That’s Will. From the Sharks.”
Yeah, it is. But you’re not gonna say that, you can’t say anything. Because it is Will, the same Will that plays for Boston College Eagles, the same Will that was 4th pick in the draft, the same Will that is your extremely secret boyfriend. And he’s in your bed in nothing but his underwear.
Quinn’s gaze drops to your sweatshirt and more importantly, the number embroidered on it. His jaw tightens.
“Is that his?” He asks, tone unreadable.
You tug the sleeves over your hands. “Maybe.”
Jack makes a strangled noise. “You’re wearing his clothes.”
Will finally looks down at himself, realizing he’s wearing almost nothing. He glances at the floor, at the discarded pile of clothes next to the bed, and he grabs the nearest article of clothing and pulls it on.
It’s your slightly oversized U-Mich t-shirt that you got from Luke. It’s unfortunately not oversized on Will.
Luke turns around and faces the wall, and you don’t know if he’s laughing or fuming.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Jack mutters.
“Can everyone just relax?” You plead.
“No.” All three brothers say at once.
Quinn steps forward. “Hallway.” He says, staring at Will, not you.
And there’s no arguing with that tone. Will stands carefully, like sudden movements might get him jumped. Your brothers step back out into the hall as Will moves toward the door. He turns back to you before he exits.
“I’m so fucked.” He whispers, barely audible.
“Probably.” You whisper back.
And he slips out of the room. The door doesn’t fully close though, you can still hear the conversation.
“How long has this… this been a thing?” Jack asks.
“I mean, it depends on, like, what this is.” Will starts.
Jack makes a buzzer noise. “Wrong answer.”
“No, I mean we were just friends-” Will continues, scrambling to fix it.
You sigh and drag your hands down your face, trying to ignore your reflection in the mirror. You pull on shorts, run a quick brush through your hair and then you’re joining the boys out in the hallway.
Will is backed up into the cinderblock wall like a cornered animal. Jack is pacing, Luke looks upset but also mildly amused, Quinn is the only steady one, but you still can’t get a read on him.
Jack turns and points at you. “You. I can’t believe this. You’ve been having a man over in your single dorm? That’s not why we paid extra for your own room, just so you know.”
You wince. “It’s not like that.”
“You’re wearing his number.” Quinn points out again.
“It was clean.”
Will finally finds his voice. “In my defense, I didn’t know she was related to you all at first.”
Jack turns back to him. “At first?”
Will nods quickly. “She didn’t tell me. I found out when she got a FaceTime from Luke and his contact picture popped up.”
Luke gasps. “You were THERE?”
You cough slightly. “We were studying for English together.”
All three brothers look from Will back to you. Quinn’s eyes flick over your neck and the marks still lingering there. His eyes narrow.
“Were you studying last night too?” Quinn asks, his voice low.
Your face turns bright red. Will makes a choked noise and you’re worried he might actually stop breathing.
Jacks expression shifts. “Oh my god.”
“Stop.” You warn.
“No, no, no.” He points between you and Will.
Will raises his hands in surrender. “For the record, we used pr–”
“Stop!” Luke cuts off immediately, covering his ears. “We don’t need the fucking details, man!”
Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose while Jack looks like he’s three seconds away from either committing felony assault or throwing up.
You step forward quickly. “Okay. We don’t need to finish that sentence. Everyone just take a breath, please.”
Will runs a hand through his hair anxiously, the shirt, your shirt, riding up and exposing his stomach.
“Put some fucking pants on.” Jack mutters, but loud enough for you all to hear.
“They’re in there.” Will says carefully, pointing at the jumbled heap of clothes in your room. “I regret that.”
Luke snorts but quickly covers it with a cough.
Quinn speaks again, tone even. “How long?” He’s addressing you this time, not Will.
“A few months.” You admit quietly.
Jacks head whips towards you. “Months?!”
“Yeah. We met on campus at the beginning of the year.” You explain. “He ran into me and spilled my coffee.”
“Hey. I bought you a new one to make up for it.” Will says, smiling at the memory.
“Yeah. And then we just kept running into each other.” You finish.
Jack throws his hands up. “You had a rule! How can you just forget about that?”
“She didn’t say yes right away.” Will defends for you. “I kept asking her out but she kept telling me she didn’t date hockey players.”
“Yeah, and I never have before. Because the second hockey players hear ‘Hughes’, they turn into weird little fanboys.” You add.
“But the rule.” Jack groans again, and by now you’re getting pretty sick of all his whining.
“I made that rule when I was fifteen.” You argue. “Because you guys were insufferable.”
Luke looks offended. “We were not.”
“You absolutely were.” You cut off. “All of you. The lake house every summer? Your friends? The girls?” You try to jog their memory.
Jack is finally at a loss for words, and Quinn just looks guilty. Will, on the other hand, is looking like he just got handed a piece of sacred lore.
“I didn’t want that.” You continue. “I didn’t want to be some story in a locker room or a bet.”
“You’re not.” Will says to you, voice soft. Then he turns back to the boys. “She’s not. Not a story. Definitely not a bet.”
That shuts them all up. Quinn studies Will, looking with a little more respect now.
Jack, ever the instigator, just has to ruin it again. “I still can’t believe you let us walk in on that!”
“Oh my god.” You press your hands over your face. “You literally broke into my room at nine in the morning!”
“It was a surprise!” Jack argues. “We have a key.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to use it whenever!” You bite back.
Quinn folds his arms. “How often is he over here?”
“That doesn’t matter.” You say, stepping forward. “You guys live in different states. You can’t just show up here with no warning. And I’m an adult, I can make my own choices about who sleeps over.”
“Well you don’t need to advertise it.” Luke gestures at your neck.
You tug the sweatshirt collar up higher. “You’re acting like I tattooed his name on my forehead.”
“On your neck.” Jack corrects.
You flip him off.
Quinn exhales slowly. “We’re not mad you’re dating him… it’s that we walked in on… whatever that was.”
“We weren’t even doing anything!” You exclaim. Then you take a deep breath, voice softening slightly. “Look, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to become this whole thing. The interrogation and the overprotective big brother routine. I wanted something that didn’t revolve around you all, something that was mine.”
You watch as those words land for each of them.
“And you barging in without warning kinda proves my point.” You add quietly.
There’s a long pause.
“We should’ve texted.” Luke mutters.
“Yes.”
“We didn’t think.” Jack says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Clearly.”
Quinn looks at Will again. “Are you coming with us? We should find some place for breakfast since Jack ruined the donuts.”
Will hesitates like he’s trying to figure out if this is a trap.
“I’ll come.” He says carefully.
“Fine. But I’m driving.” Jack sighs.
“Shotgun.” Luke calls.
“That’s not how it works, you have to be able to see—” Quinn starts arguing.
You take the blossoming argument as an opportunity to quickly pull Will back into your room to change, ignoring the “no funny business” yelled by Jack. The second the door shuts behind you, you both exhale heavily.
“Oh my god.” Will whispers, running his hands through his hair. “That was terrifying.”
You lean against the door, nodding. Then you move quickly, tugging off his sweatshirt that you’re still wearing and hanging it over your desk chair. Will’s gaze softens at the care you take, then he quickly looks away, picking his own shorts off the floor. He laughs under his breath.
“What?” You ask, pulling on your jeans.
“I just…” he shakes his head. “I expected meeting your brothers would be, like, intense. But that was way scarier than I thought.”
“You’re lucky they didn’t actually tackle you.”
“Was that a possibility?”
“With the three of them? Always.”
He pulls on a clean shirt, his own this time thankfully, and steps towards you. “Are we okay?”
You look at him properly for the first time all morning. Messy hair, slight flush on his cheeks still.
“Yeah.” You say quietly, reaching for his hand. “We’re good.”
A knock rattles the door.
“Times up!” Luke’s voice calls. “And if you’re making out in there, I swear I’m gonna—”
You yank the door open before he can finish.
“We’re not!” You snap.
Jack squints at you. “Then why do you look suspicious?”
You make a face at that. “I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Let’s go.” Quinn says calmly, trying to stave off another argument.
The walk to the parking lot is awkward with Jack muttering to himself, and Luke who just keeps eyeing Will like he’s an animal in a zoo exhibit. Quinn is just walking in front, hands in his pockets.
You all pile into the car, Jack in the drivers seat, Luke claiming shotgun again correctly this time, Quinn behind Jack. Will climbs into the middle seat, you follow.
As you pull out, Jack glances at Will in the rearview mirror. “So.”
Will straightens, meeting his reflection.
“You planning on staying in hockey professionally?” He asks Will.
You shoot Jack a look. “What the hell kinda question is that?”
“A normal one.” Jack replies defensively.
You shake your head but Will answers anyway.
“Yeah, that’s the plan. Hopefully I’ll head to San Jose after this year.”
Luke turns around as far as his seatbelt will allow. “You nervous for it?”
“Extremely.” Will answers honestly.
That makes Luke grin, nodding. You can even see the corner of Quinn’s mouth twitching, he’s trying not to smile.
Jack’s not getting enough attention, so he sighs dramatically. “I just can’t believe this is how we find out you have a boyfriend.”
You cross your arms and frown. “I was gonna tell you.”
“When?” Luke asks.
“Soon.”
“Before or after he moved in?” Jack fires.
Will chokes on nothing and you groan. But despite all the theatrics and drama, despite the fact that Jack will never stop bringing this up, no one tells Will to leave or scares him off.
And when the car finally pulls up outside the little diner, Quinn pulls Will back slightly. You slow just enough to be able to hear what they’re saying.
“You hurt her,” Quinn starts quietly, not looking at Will but straight ahead, “and this conversation will go very differently next time.”
Will nods. “Understood.”
“But if you’re good, then we’re good.” Quinn adds.
Will exhales like he’s remembering how to breathe again. You catch his eye from a few feet away and he smiles, relieved.
⊱ —————- °.• ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ •.° —————— ⊰
Breakfast goes suspiciously well. Jack makes one joke about “setting some ground rules” and Luke kicks him under the table. Quinn asks Will about his classes like that’s what makes a good boyfriend. Will answers all their questions anyway, he’s respectful.
You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never does.
By noon they’ve decided you’re spending the day with them. You drop Will off at his dorm since he has a game tonight, and then you’re walking around campus with your brothers. You give them recommendations for lunch spots and they decide on your favorite. Jack takes too many pictures of “Boston architecture” acting like they don’t have brick buildings in New Jersey.
It’s around five when Quinn casually says, “So, when’s puck drop?”
You freeze mid-step. “You’re not—”
“We are.” Jack confirms.
“You can’t sit with me.”
“We are.” Luke repeats, grinning.
You can’t manage to talk them out of it. So that's how you end up in your usual seat but instead of being surrounded by friends or even classmates, it’s Luke on your left, and Quinn and Jack to your right.
You can feel the eyes on you, the whispers starting up, phones angled slightly towards you in a way that’s not natural enough to be sneaky. You pretend not to notice it all.
You watch as Will skates out for warmups with Ryan and Gabe like always, laughing about something. His eyes do his usual scan, searching for you and then he pauses, because you’re not alone and you’ve brought the people who tried to kill him this morning.
Well, that’s an exaggeration, but Will’s heart could not tell the difference between that interrogation earlier and being hunted for sport.
Gabe notices the change in behavior immediately.
“You good?” He asks, gently shoving Will’s shoulder.
Leno follows where Will’s been staring.
“Oh my god.”
“What?” Gabe asks, spinning around and searching the stands.
Leno squints through the glass. “Is that…?”
Will doesn’t answer, because Luke has chosen this exact moment to start waving casually.
Gabe’s jaw drops. “Why are the Hughes brothers at our game?”
Leno turns to Will. “Why are the Hughes brothers staring at you specifically?”
Will swallows, closing his eyes. “They’re here with her.”
Both of them snap their heads back to the stands, now realizing it’s not just the Hughes brothers there, but you’re sitting right in the middle of them.
“You’re kidding.” Gabe breathes out.
“You never told us.” Leno says.
“Wasn’t my place.” Will mutters.
His friends are staring at him like he’s been living a double life.
“You’re dating a Hughes?” Gabe hisses in awe.
Will’s ears go red under his helmet. “Lower your voice.”
Leno looks back at the glass again. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Will says quietly.
Then their coach blows the whistle and warmups resume. Gabe nudges Will before they split.
“You better score tonight.” He laughs.
Will does not laugh, he just stares at Gabe as he skates away, thinking that that’s the worst thing anyone could’ve said to him in this moment.
In the first period, Will is already locked into the game. Now in a show off way, he’s just focused, eyes on the puck at all times. Halfway through the first he buries a pass from Leno in the net. The arena erupts.
He celebrates with the team and then searches for you on instinct. You’re smiling, clapping calmer than you normally do. Your brothers are there, smiling too. That surprises Will.
Second period, Will gets the assist on a power play goal. He celebrates again with his team, not over the top, just genuine happiness.
Luke leans closer to you. “He’s playing smart.”
Jack makes a noise of agreement and Quinn just nods along.
The third period ends with a win for BC. No hat trick this time for Will, but a good, strong game nonetheless. You stand from your seat, stretching after being seated for so long. Immediately all three of them stand too. You groan.
“You don’t have to com—” you say quietly.
“We’re coming with.” Jack says.
“Absolutely.” Luke agrees.
Quinn nods towards the tunnel, motioning you forward. You lead them down the same path you’ve walked what feels like a hundred times at this point.
The hallway outside the locker room smells like sweat and ice and adrenaline. Players start filtering out slowly, some doing double takes at the men standing behind you. Gabe is the first player you really recognize to exit first. He smiles at you and then freezes slightly. Ryan comes out next and runs straight into Gabe.
“Dude. What is wrong with– oh. Hey. How’s it going?” He says to you, eyeing your brothers behind you.
Jack smiles politely. “Good game.”
Will finally appears, hair damp and curly like it always gets after a shower. He sees you first and immediately his face settles into something warm. Then he sees your posse and instinctively straightens. No one moves at first. Then Quinn steps forward first.
“Good game, man.” He says, pulling Will in for a weird bro handshake.
Will nods. “Thank you.”
Jack tilts his head. “You’re a smart player. You’ve got good read.”
Luke crosses his arms, nodding. “Patient too, didn’t force anything.”
Will relaxes at that. “I tried not to.”
There’s another pause and Quinn glances at you.
“Alright, well, we’ll be by tomorrow morning to say goodbye before we head back.” He says, nodding to you.
“Yeah, try to be fully clothed this time.” Jack sasses.
You groan and Will’s face immediately turns tomato red. You see him glance at Gabe and Ryan, who are looking at him horrified.
“Will you shut the fuck up.” You hiss at Jack, hitting him on the shoulder.
Quinn pushes Jack backwards, out of arms reach for you.
“Man, will you not?” He sighs, rolling his eyes at Jack.
Jack just shrugs, smirking. Quinn turns back to you.
“He’s not wrong though. But we will call ahead this time.”
You nod. Luke steps in to give you a hug, then Quinn, then Jack and you take extra care to step on his feet but he doesn’t even flinch unfortunately. Then they all head off, leaving you and Will, and a bewildered looking Gabe and Ryan. You know they’ve probably got a billion questions but Will just shakes his head at them for now.
“I’m sorry.” You mumble to Will, turning to hug him.
He doesn’t hesitate, completely pulling you against his chest.
“For what?” He asks quietly into your hair.
“For…that.” You gesture loosely towards the hallway your brothers disappeared down. “They’re insane.”
Will laughs softly against your head. “I’m aware.”
You pull back enough to look at him. He’s still a little pink, from the game or the comments made by Jack.
“They like you.” You add quickly. “That was them liking you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That was them liking me?”
“Yes. If they didn’t like you they wouldn’t have complimented you. They would’ve thought all those things because they’re true, but they would’ve kept them to themselves.” You reason.
Will nods like that makes sense to him. Behind him, you see Gabe and Ryan still hovering like confused puppies.
“So…” Gabe starts, eyes on you.
Will waves it off. “I can explain later.”
You think they’re about to argue but then Will gives them both a look and they start off down the hallway, aggressively whispering to each other. Will pulls you back into his chest for another hug.
“Can I walk you home?” He asks softly.
“You always do.” You smile.
He shrugs, grin lopsided. “Yeah, I do.”
⊱ —————- °.• ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ •.° —————— ⊰
The lake feels exactly the same. Same boat your parents have had since you were a kid, same wooden dock bleached pale from decades of summers under the sun, same notch on one of the dock posts from where Jack had run into it with the jet ski when he first got his license.
Same place as it was when you made your rule. Fifteen years old with sunburnt shoulders, you’d sat right here, legs dangling over the edge, and told yourself you’d never date and hockey player and you’d never be just somebody’s sister. It had felt safe when you decided that.
Now it’s July and Will is sitting beside you on the same dock.
He’d helped your dad with the grill earlier, burned his thumb and laughed about it. He let your mom absolutely destroy him at cards. When Jack tried to chirp him about it he just grinned and said, “she’s got the veteran experience.”
He nudges your knee gently with his, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“You’re quiet.”
You smile softly. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
You glance out at the water. “I was sitting here when I decided I’d never date a hockey player.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You let out a small breath. “I was so worried I’d lose myself. Like, I’d just become attached to somebody’s career, orbit them forever.”
He’s quiet for a second. “You don’t feel like that with me?”
You shake your head. He smiles slightly. A boat passes by, rippling the water, sending waves over your shins.
“You didn’t pull me into your world. You met me halfway.” You try to explain, hoping it makes sense to Will.
“That’s kinda the point of relationships.” He smiles.
You nod, smiling. The wind picks up then, a breeze waving through your hair. You reach over and smooth a curl on Will’s head.
Back at fifteen, it felt like the only way to forge your own path was walk one alone. But now, sitting here, shoulders bumping his, you realize something else.
You did forge your own path. You chose your own school, your own sport, your own friends, your own life. And then, you chose him. Not because he was a hockey player, but because he never made you feel like an accessory or a trophy.
Will leans back on his hands, kicking his feet in the water gently.
“So…am I allowed back next summer?”
You pretend to consider it. “Maybe. If you let my mom win at cards again.”
He smiles warmly. “Deal.”
The dock creaks slowly beneath you, waves keep moving. And somehow the past feels lighter now.
