Fics like three's a crowd

Leno pulls off, after a moment, hovering by his ear. “Is he looking?” Will blinks a few times, eyes snapping past the wall to where Macklin stands, just to see the same sight he’s been seeing for the past twenty minutes, at least. “Obviously not,” he hisses, and he feels stupid that he even looked. “He will.” -- Across the bar, Will laughs, and Mack glances up. There’s a distant thought in there, about how he’s so in tune with Will on the ice that he knows where he is off it as well, can pick out his laugh in the sparse crowd of a dispersing bar, but the thought dies when he catches sight of him. Will’s eyes are closed, head thrown back and biting his lip at whatever the fuck Leno is doing: head bowed and clearly mouthing at Will’s fucking neck. He’s got a hand in Leonard’s hair, pulling, and Mack’s mouth goes dry. He’s walking over before he even realizes what he’s doing. -- or, Mack doesn't exactly know why he dislikes Ryan Leonard. What he does know, is that he absolutely cannot let Will leave with him.

Fics like three's a crowd

You may also like