Archive of Our Own

Mack would never admit this to anyone, but the night he turned 21, he made a birthday wish that he couldn’t take back.

The last thing Mack remembers before he blew out the candles was thinking about his two favorite things in the world— Will and pussy.

Mack was drunk, obviously.

And while Mack usually got tipsy on his birthday, this year it was bad. He was drunk drunk, gripping the kitchen table, praying he didn’t throw up on the homemade chocolate birthday cake that Will had made him. And his Mama was giving Mack a tight-lipped smile across the table, and he could tell by his Dada’s narrowed eyes that he was going to get told off in the morning. Because Mack was setting a bad example for his little brother, RJ. Whatever. At least he wasn’t black-out.

“Make a wish. Anything you want, baby,” his Mama had said, her arms around his best friend Will’s shoulders, and Mack had slow-blinked, eyes blurry, trying to remember what he wanted.

I want…

Will was leaning into his Mama’s side and smiling at him, eyes warm and fond, patiently waiting for Mack to make a wish.

I want…?

“Come on,” RJ whined. “Blow out the candles already so we can eat the cake, Mack.”

“Shhh, let your big brother think.”

“He can’t think he’s dru-“

“RJ! Let your brother think of his wish.”

Well, Mack had squeezed his eyes shut, thinking about how amazing pussy felt and something about how amazing Will’s eyes on him now felt, just as good as pussy, if not better, and then…and then…

And then Mack had wished for something impossible.

Mack didn’t expect the wish to take.

Because it wasn’t something that could happen, not outside of weird porn, of course. It shouldn’t have happened, except…

“I don’t feel good, sorry,” Mack overhears Will saying to his Mama the next morning.

Mack rubs his eyes: “That should be my line, Smitty.”

He slings his hands over Will’s shoulder and feels his best friend stiffen under his touch which is…weird as fuck? Huh. But Mack is too hungover to figure out why Will is upset at him because he’s got to deal with the Why Are You Embarrassing Us tirade from his parents. His Dada gives him the expected “you don’t need to drink to have fun” lecture and then his Mama follows it up with a “why can’t you be more like Will” clincher. Ugh. Not fun.

And the worst part is that Will is supposed to be his emotional release from all of this.

But when Mack rests his head on Will’s shoulder and talks directly into his neck (“Dude, they’re so fucking pissed at me!)…Will stiffens.

And then Will moves away from Mack like he’s been burned— “They’re just concerned about you.”

Uhhhhh.What.The. Fuck?!

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Mack whines and crosses his arms as he watches Will scramble their breakfast eggs with a spatula.

“I am on your side; I’m always on your side, dude,” Will says down to the eggs, not once looking up at Mack.

“Well, what happened to drinking espresso martinis until we vomited when you turned twenty one? Now you’re suddenly holier than thou and above that?!”

Will wrinkles his nose and lowers his voice, “I told you let’s do that when we’re back at San Jose, not in Vancouver. Not with your family here.”

“Will,” Mack whines again, drawing out his best friend’s name and leaning in to try and drape himself over Will, expecting Will to comfort him.

He’s all sad and hung-over and twenty one. He should be comforted by Will— it’s part of Will’s best friend duties to comfort Mack.

So Mack does not expect to get shoved back with a firm- “not now, Mack.”

Not now?!

“Everyone’s mad at me, you’re not allowed to be mad at me,” Mack says and waits for Will to apologize.

Instead, he gets a plate full of eggs and bacon shoved into his hands.

“Dude,” Mack huffs. “Why are your panties in a twist?! You on your period or something?”

And he watches Will’s face get strangely red and tight. This is the part where Will is patient with Mack, where he softens his voice and goes “Mack, are you hungover? Do you want me to make you something to help your headache? Tea?” And Mack will nod and get all soft and drape himself over Will, as if he could absorb the comfort through skin to skin contact.

Instead, Will just walks away without another word.

Mack’s left there, confused as fuck.

“Oooooo, looks like your boyfriend’s mad at you,” RJ says as he witnesses Will walking away from a stunned Mack.

Mack glares down at his eggs: “Bro, shuddup.”

“What did you do, Mack? Better go apologize! He looks pissed.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Mack huffs, and he figures he’ll just give Will some space until he’s ready to tell Mack what the fuck is his problem.

But Will stays that way, never looking at Mack, not once. He’s silent in the Uber to the airport. He’s cold even when Mack is on his best behavior. Mack buys them both airport Starbucks and gets nothing but a quiet “thanks.” He even knew Will’s order! When he tries to rest his head on Will’s shoulder during the flight, he gets knocked off with a “not now, Mack.”

Okay, yeah, Mack is about to crash the fuck out.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Mack bursts as soon as they make it back into the safety of their San Jose apartment.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Will says as he practically runs to his room, dragging his luggage behind him, and tries to close the door on Mack.

“You! Literally! Won’t look at me,” Mack sputters as he blocks the door with his arm and pushes his way inside, closing it behind him. “What did I do to deserve a cold shoulder?!”

“Nothing.”

“Then look at me,” Mack says and takes Will firmly by the shoulders and manhandles his best friend so he’s looking at him, and he’s met with the same narrowed eyes and red-face he got at breakfast. There’s this tightness that Mack recognizes as Will’s “I just got benched” face.

Now Mack’s worried.

Mack lowers his voice and asks urgently, “What happened? What are you in your head about? Is something wrong?”

And Will lowers his eyes, cheeks darkening red and nods.

“Yes? Something’s wrong?”

“Yes,” Will says down to Mack’s feet. “Something’s wrong.”

Mack’s breath catches in his throat: “Tell me.”

“I can't, it's…I can’t say it.”

“Okay, okay, so- so I can guess? Uh, well you were fine on my birthday, right?”

“Right.”

“And, uh, you were upset the next morning, so? Is this about me being drunk? Is that it?

“No,” Will sighs. “It’s not about you being drunk on your birthday.”

Mack rubs his hands up and down Will’s shoulders, notices that Will tenses again under his touch.

“Do you not…not like me touching you?” Mack asks, voice breaking a little.

Will always likes Mack’s touch, well, except when he’s really in his head about something.

And Will’s face does something weird and complicated and Mack realizes that Will’s trying not to cry, and Mack leans in to hug him, heart pounding, and he exhales when Will finally softens into his touch, resting his head on Mack’s shoulder.

Will’s deep voice rumbles against his ear, “I can’t say it.”

“Okay, fine, you can’t say it. You don’t have to say it,” Mack agrees, running his hand up and down Will’s back, just like Will would do for him if he was freaking out about something. “Can you…can you show me?”

“Yeah, it’s- it’s kind of impossible, so maybe it would be better if I just showed you,” Will agrees, and he’s talking right into Mack’s neck. Mh, that feels good, especially after a whole day of no touch. Mack keeps holding on to Will and Will keeps holding on to him, neither of them moving.

Finally, Will clears his throat: “Okay, you gotta let me go, bud. Or I can’t show you.”

“Right, yeah,” Mack says with a laugh and finally lets Will go.

He expects Will to do a lot of things but pull down his pants is not one of them-

“Dude, is it like Clymadia? Cause I don’t wanna see that-“

“Gross. What? How would I have gotten the clap?! I was at your parents house for a week! No, it’s not a fucking STD, dumbass,” Will hisses. “Just shut up and look.”

And Mack shuts up and watches expectantly as Will pulls down his boxers and shows him his-

Um.

Huh?

Where did his…?

“Yeah, I know! I know it’s not possible,” Will says, hysterically.

Mack can’t help it because his eyes are trapped, caught, at the smooth place between Will’s legs, where instead of a cock and balls there’s a…he’s got a pussy. Mack’s mouth falls open, and he blinks at it, like he’s staring at the sun.

Hypnotized. Blinded. Awestruck.

Wow.

And the first thing out of Mack’s dumb, stupid idiot mouth is— “You shaved it?”

Will pulls up his boxers: “What?!”

“What? I mean- it’s clearly all nice and shaved-“

“Yes, I- I keep myself well groomed,” Will says, face burning, and Mack knows he’s messing this up, so he tries again.

“I mean it‘s…pretty?”

“…what?”

Uh.

“It’s like, yanno, a really pretty looking one. Objectively speaking. Some of them aren’t that pretty. But yours is all nice and…uh, pink,” Mack says, cheeks heating up, feeling like maybe he’s putting his foot in his mouth again?

“Mack,” Will says in his angry whisper. “I fell asleep on your birthday with a dick and woke up like this. I did not show you so- so you can tell me it’s pretty. It’s not mine!”

Mack has to swallow down the whiny “but it is so pretty, Smitty!”

Because yes, Will might have the prettiest pussy that Mack’s ever seen in his entire life -and he’s seen quite a few!- but that’s not what this is supposed to be about.

“I’m…” Mack chokes out the “sorry?”

Will is still silent, glaring at Mack like he did this.

“I’m sorry but do you want me to say? You want me to lie and say it’s ugly? It’s not! It’s, like, objectively very…”

Pretty.

Will gets a shade brighter which seems impossible but he manages somehow. His summer tan makes his hair look blonder and his eyes bluer.

Of course his pussy would be perfect, Mack thinks. It’s got to match the rest of him.

“I don’t want you to comment on it at all, thank you.”

“So…why did you show me?”

“You’re so dumb, dude. I showed you because I don’t know who else to tell this to, okay? I’m not supposed to have this…obviously.”

Well, obviously.

Mack has seen Will’s cock plenty of times. Felt it when they’ve wrestled too. He’s seen it soft in the showers. They live together and they’re hockey dudes. So, of course he’s seen Will’s dick.

“Okay, let me think,” Mack says and squats down to his knees, head spinning because he’s still stuck on Will having a pussy. WillPussy. Two amazing things, put together. Mack is like a kid who just found out that you can combine ice cream and cake to get ice cream cake, and he feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin if he doesn’t get to see it again.

“I know thinking’s not your strong suit,” Will bitches as he pulls up his jeans, but they’re still unbuttoned so Mack’s eyes are caught at the white of Will’s Calvin Klein’s.

“Uh, fuck off. I’m your Captain.”

Will rolls his eyes: “Which you only remind me of every time we get into a fight.”

“There’s different forms of intelligence.”

“Yeah and you got none of them, except for hockey IQ.”

“Smitty, stop being mean I’m trying to concentrate here,” Mack groans but that’s a lie. He’s actually trying not to get hard because he keeps thinking about the smooth pinkness of Will’s pussy. It was so cute, so pretty.

WillPussy.

“Alright, boy genius, what you got?”

Mack absently licks his lips— “Well, you were good the whole day of my birthday…except, uh, except you woke up like this?”

“Right. Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“So it probably happened at night? I mean I was drunk off my ass, but you looked happy. You were standing next to my Mom. I blew out my candles, and you smiled. We had the cake you made, which was delicious. Oh, I brought us a slice home, by the way. I love that you make my birthday cake-“

Wait. Birthday cake. His wish. Will.

Oh.

“What? What is it? What’d you realize?” Will asks, recognizing Mack’s ‘gotcha’ face.

“My birthday wish!”

“Yeah? What about your birthday wish?”

“I…wished for, uh, pussy,” Mack says and then he looks at the CALVIN KLEIN logo on Will’s boxers.

Will squirms as he pulls at his shirt, following Mack’s hungry gaze to cover up his underwear.

“You…wished that I had a pussy for your twenty first birthday? In front of your Mom, Dad, and all your siblings?”

“No, I didn’t wish for that! Not…exactly.”

“Not exactly?!”

“I just, like, thought about pussy….” Mack says and then shrugs, not willing to admit the full truth of it. That he’d looked up at Will at some point. That the two had somehow got merged together in his mind.

“That’s it? That’s all you wished for?”

“Well, how about you? What were you thinking about?” Mack deflects, and Will goes red.

Hm.

“Will! What were you thinking about?!”

“I- I was praying to God for all of your birthday wishes to come true! And for you to- to be happy and healthy and…oh my god, did I accidentally wish for this?!”

“Yeah, maybe you did,” Mack says, a little mean, because it’s easier to let Will take the fall for his pussy!wish than to admit that he might have wished for it all himself.

“God must have gotten confused,” Will whispers, almost to himself, horrified.

Mack sits back on his haunches, amused: “Well, I thought he didn’t make mistakes, according to you?”

“Not according to me. According to the Bible, dumbass. And he…he doesn’t,” Will says, rubbing his red face with his hands. “There- there must be some kind of reason. I’m sure. Fuck! Mack, why couldn’t you have wished for something normal?!”

“Like what?”

“Like a girlfriend!”

“I don’t want a girlfriend,” Mack groans.

“Why not? Maybe then you wouldn’t be getting fucking wasted every day, including your birthday if you had someone.”

“See? This is why I don’t need a girlfriend— I’ve already got you and my Mom on my case. I’m so good.”

“But you needed me to have a pussy,” Will scoffs. “What?! Girls from Raya weren’t doing it for you?”

“Okay, dude, just because you’re, like, super fucking repressed and don’t fuck-“

Will attacks Mack, and they’re wrestling on the floor, but like, actually trying to smack one another, which happens with them. Usually Will is pretty patient with Mack, but mentioning Will’s lack of sex life is a big no-no.

Mack deserves to end up on his back with Will hot and angry in his face, sitting on top of him and hissing, “Not everything is about your stupid dick and hockey, Mack.”

“Well, what else is there?”

“There’s- there’s cafes and restaurants and movies and parks and history and art and-“ Will stops and sighs. “Are you seriously getting hard, Mack?”

Mack opens and closes his mouth, unable to say— I can feel it through your jeans, Smitty. It’s so soft and nice. Your pussy is so nice.

Mack just closes his eyes and cautiously settles his hands on Will’s hips: “What were you saying? History and art? Keep going, I’m listening.”

And Will does not push his hands away, which…hm, interesting. Okay.

“No,” Will sneers. “You’re not fucking listening. And you know what? This is not my fault that I prayed all wholesome-ly for all your wishes to come true, and- and you prayed for pussy, and- and this is what happened. Maybe God is trying to teach us a lesson?”

Ugh, Bible shit.

He loves Will, but he hates when he goes all Good Catholic Boy mode.

Mack rolls his hips up a little, squeezing Will on purpose, and pushing his bulge against that spot where Will’s soft: “Yeah, so- so what’s the lesson here, Saint William?”

And Will is silent, but he doesn’t push Mack’s hands away.

Will just looks at Mack and swallows, nervous: “Well, maybe this is a lesson about lust? And…and lustful thoughts?”

And Mack’s having a lot of fucking lustful thoughts right now that start and end with this sentence— Will has a pussy.

“Or maybe it’s a birthday present for me,” Mack says, rolling his hips again, fucking up into Will, and he feels Will push down into him, rubbing back onto his cock. Oh yeah, Will wants it. That much is clear. Mack might know a lot of things -like math, history, grammar, whatever- but he does know what a pussy feels like when it starts to get so wet that you can feel the print through a pair of pants and underwear.

Will exhales, shaky, and Mack notes, “You’re wet.”

He’d bet his life on it that Will’s soaking down there.

“So? And you’re hard,” Will says back, lips curled in a sneer.

“Listen,” Mack reasons. “I wished for a pussy. You wished for all my dreams to come true. Maybe- maybe if we just- you know. If we just did it then- then it’ll go back to normal?”

“No,” Will says and stands, and Mack groans at the impending blue balls. 

He snatches Will’s wrist, who’s desperately trying to tug himself away: “Come on! It makes sense! You’re my present, Will. You have to give it to me.”

“Oh, I have to give it you?” Will asks, nasty.

“Who else?”

“Uh! Nobody! I- I don’t have to do anything with it,” Will snaps. “Do you hear yourself?! This is why you can’t get a girlfriend-“

“I don’t want a girlfriend,” Mack repeats for the millionth time and has to swallow back the ‘I want you’ because that almost sounds romantic. And they’re not. They’re just best friends. Mack is straight, but if Will has a pussy then, it’s not, like, gay. It’s normal.

“No, absolutely, not. Gross. Not in a million years. Not in your dreams. Not in my nightmares. I’m not- just because I have this-“

“Pussy? Just say it!”

“This thing! Does not mean you’re entitled to it! You-“ Will stops speaking and takes a deep breath. “Oh my god, you think you’re entitled to it, don’t you?”

“What’s entitled mean?”

“Entitled means you think it…it belongs to you.”

“Well,” Mack says and squeezes Will’s wrist.

“You can’t be serious.”

“It was my birthday wish, so…?”

“So?! So, you- you are so annoying, Macklin! This is not some weird birthday gift for you.”

Mack licks his lips: “Why not?”

Mack watches Will’s eyes go down to Mack’s lips and then snap back up, horrified: “You- you really think this is…?”

“Why not? I blew out the candles. I wished for some pussy. You prayed to God or whatever for all my dreams to come true, thinking this was an episode of the Disney channel, and, so, yeah, that’s for me. Isn’t it?”

Mack watches Will’s eyes widen and his breathing stutters, “You- you’re insane. Mack. Unwish it right now!”

“You- you go unpray it!”

Will finally snatches back his wrist: “Yeah? I’m going to pray for you to learn some fucking empathy, man. Because I’m going through a crisis, and all you can think about is your dick and sticking it in something wet.”

Mack’s got to Google what empathy is. Right after he stops thinking about Will being wet.

“Well, I’m just being logical trying to think about how to fix this!”

“No, you’re being an asshole!” Will snaps, walks out, and slams the door behind him; Mack groans and collapses back onto Will’s bed as he listens to the shower running.

Mack pulls out his phone and Googles- empathy.

“The ability to understand, recognize and share another person’s emotions or perspectives,” Mack reads out loud.

Huh.

Mack can totally do that. Will is feeling…scared. Sure. He’s all freaked out because he has a pussy. If Mack woke up like that, he would be pretty freaked out too, fine. But then he lingers on the word ‘share.’ Okay, so this is like when Mack did not say ‘sorry’ that one time for cracking Will’s windshield, and Will explained afterwards that Mack still needed to share that he felt sorry for what he did. Even if it was obvious that he would feel sorry. And that he would pay for it. So, yeah, basically Will needs to know that Mack knows why Will’s freaked out, even if it’s obvious.

Fuck yeah, Mack is great at this empathy stuff.

Will comes back…in just a towel.

“I’m sorry,” Mack starts and then stops because he looks down at the towel and thinks— oh my god, he’s got a pussy under there. Will has a pussy. Hehasapussy. It’s there. Right there. Under the towel. Nice and clean. Pretty, pink, real.

“You’re sorry,” Will repeats softly as he gingerly sits down on the bed with Mack, and Mack can’t think anymore about ‘empathy’ because he feels blood race to his face making it all blotchy and red and the rest threatens to go down to fatten his cock.

“I- I understand you probably felt freaked out about this, and the stuff I was saying didn’t, uh, didn’t sound like I gave a fuck about you freaking out?” Mack stammers out. “But I do care. So sorry if I sounded like I didn’t care about your feelings…‘cause I do. And I’d be freaked out too if it happened to me.”

“I know you care, Mack, but thank you for apologizing anyways,” Will says, and he’s using his special Mack-voice, and Mack feels his breath stutter.

“And you would be so good about it if the positions were flipped, Smit,” Mack continues, rubbing his hands up and down his jeans, trying not to stare at the water droplets running down Will’s naked chest.

And then Will surprises him by putting his hand down on Mack’s and looking up at him from under his blonde lashes: “You’re doing your best.”

“I, uh, I am?” Mack says, confused; he looks down at Will’s hand, covering his own.

“You are,” Will says, so soft.

His thumb swipes over Mack’s hand.

Mack isn’t sure what has shifted, but when he looks back at Will’s face, it’s not the same as before.

Empathy. Right. So…? What is Will feeling now?

He’s not sure.

“What are you thinking?” Mack asks, not used to being in the dark when it comes to Will.

“I did some internet sleuthing in the bathroom…”

“Uh, what’s that mean?”

Sometimes when Will’s nervous he starts using big words.

Nervous, okay, so Will’s nervous about something.

“Sleuthing means I did detective work. I went on Reddit. Read some stories about other people that this happen to them, and they seemed to agree with you. About wish fulfillment,” Will continues, thumb rubbing up and down Mack’s hand.

Mack looks down, mystified.

He suddenly thinks about the way that girls at bars touch you when they want to hook up. He watches Will’s hand trail up, lightly, so gently, so-

Oh.

“You want to fuck?” Mack asks, crude.

Will flinches: “Wish fulfillment, yes.”

But Mack’s wish hadn’t been to fuck Will, not exactly. He had wished for the goodness of pussy mixed with the warmth of Will, together. He’d wished for…it’s right there. Like when a word is on the tip of your tongue but you can’t quite get it. When you see the picture of something, but you don’t have a name for it.

“Wish fulfillment,” Mack repeats as he watches Will’s hand go up to trace Mack’s bicep.

“Yeah, I think if we…”

“Fucked?”

Will sighs: “Yes, that. I think if we did that, like you said. It might fix it because then your birthday wish is…done.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Mack says, biting his lip, unable to explain exactly what he’d wished for.

“Now you don’t know?” Will snaps and pulls his hand away.

But Mack has no clear words to explain what he wanted. Simply put— pussy and Will. But what complicated it was that he couldn’t remember the exact wish. Somehow Mack knew that just fucking Will wouldn’t fix it, but…

But they had to be sure, right?

Because now Will looks pissed, and he’s rolling his shoulders as he stands up with a- “Whatever, maybe I’ll call up someone else to fix it.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Oh, I’d have a line out the door, Mack.”

“A line,” Mack says, jaw tightening.

“Sure, I mean. Will Vote, Gabe, Leno. You know what? If they were being honest, the whole BC team-“

“Alright, alright,” Mack says, immediately pissed at the thought. “Yeah, let’s just put your phone on speed dial and let all your old college buddies run a train on you. You think that’ll fix it, huh? Wished for me to be fucking healthy and happy, and you think I’ll be happy watching the entire BC line hit?!”

“Well, if you don’t want to, then-“

“Stop that,” Mack says and catches Will by the wrist and pulls him back down to the bed. “You think I’d allow that?”

“Allow, is crazy. What do you mean by allow?”

And Mack just gets serious: “Will, you’re part of my team. I’m your captain. You are not calling up a single BC guy for a problem that your captain can fix for you.”

He watches as Will leans back into the pillows of his bed, and he blinks at Mack with big, hypnotic eyes—

“Yeah? This is a play that my Captain should solve for me?”

“Yes. It’s my birthday wish. I told you,” Mack says and puts his hand on Will’s naked thigh, and he looks down and realizes that with just the towel that he has easy access.

“It’s not that different from what I’m used to,” Mack says and lets his hand slide up Will’s thigh, slipping under his towel like it’s a skirt. “See? Just like the girls at the bar.”

“I’m not a girl, Mack,” Will snaps even as his eyes get dark, dilated, and his legs fall open.

An invitation.

Mack slowly moves his hand, running up Will’s thighs: “But you were going to let the BC line hit? Seems like a slutty puck bunny move.”

“No, dude, obviously not. I was- was fucking with you.”

“Good,” Mack says and then raises his eyebrows. “Because this is my birthday wish, Will. Mine. Not Gabe’s. Not Leno’s. Not fucking Vote’s. And this-“

Mack stops talking as he possessively presses his hand over Will’s pussy, just holding it, just feeling it pulse under his touch.

“-this is mine.”

“Just once, just to fix it,” Will gasps, and he can bullshit all he wants, but there’s no denying how hot and wet his pussy is under Mack’s hand.

Mack feels his own cock kick in his jeans.

“Right, just once,” Mack lies, knowing fully well that his wish won’t be fulfilled by simply fucking Will once.

He rests his fingers right there, rubbing around the edges of Will’s pussy, fucking around, touching his thighs and then coming back to tease Will, dipping inside his perfect pussy lips.

“Turn off the lights,” Will says, and Mack shakes his head.

“I want to see it, Smitty,” Mack says, gently rubbing his thumb down the seam of Will’s wet lips. “I need to see it for the wish.”

And that’s a lie.

But Will believes him, nodding, and then asking— “How about we just keep my lamp on?”

And Mack agrees. The lamplight gives it a surreal glow. Outside Mack can hear the San Jose traffic rushing around, and an occasional headlight beams into their room. Mack sits back down, and he’s so hard in his jeans that it hurts.

He pulls off his own shirt over his head, and as he unzips his jeans, the sound is loud. Suddenly this is feeling way too real, way too much like he’s going to fuck his best friend.

Mack hears Will swallow.

“Relax, dude, it’s just me,” Mack reassures him, even as his own voice breaks.

“Yeah, just you, Macklin fucking Celebrini,” Will says, sounding a little hysterical. “Just going to get fucked by The Macklin Celebrini. Captain of the Sharks.”

“Okay, now you’re just stroking my ego,” Mack says with a grin as he tugs off his jeans, and he feels Will’s eyes against the tent in Mack’s boxers.

“You’re going to wear a rubber, right?”

Nah, no way.

Mack is greedy for this; he wants to feel Will raw, wants that pussy stretched nice and tight around his cock, with nothing separating Mack from Will.

“Why? It’s going to go away, isn’t it?” Mack plays innocent.

“Right, yeah, right,” Will says, cheeks burning up as he watches Mack palm himself through his boxers. There’s already a wet stain on the grey fabric.

“I’ll pull out, don’t worry,” Mack says, knowing he’s doing no such thing.

Will’s worrying his bottom lip and playing with the towel: “It doesn’t- doesn’t count; if we do this, does it? I mean it’s not even mine. Right?”

“No, it’s not yours,” Mack agrees as he pulls off the towel to see Will’s pretty, pink pussy once again. “That’s not yours….”

And then Mack leans down and presses a kiss to it, and he looks up to watch his best friend gasp.

“I told you already— it’s mine, my wish,” Mack says against the sensitive skin and kisses Will again, and then he licks, looking up at Will with his big, green eyes.

“This- this how you do it for- for girls? Or you just showing off?” Will says, trying to play like he’s nonchalant, but he’s gripping the sheets, and Mack just hums a yes right against Will’s wet folds.

He pulls away, wipes his wet mouth, and says, “Yeah, that’s how the puck bunnies like it. You get them nice and wet, and then it’s so easy to…”

Mack licks his lips and adjusts himself through his boxers.

“What?”

“Slip inside,” Mack says, and it’s hard not to grip himself too hard at that, not to cum all over himself at the thought of being allowed inside of Will, of feeling his best friend from the inside.

“Just once,” Will says quickly.

“Just once,” Mack agrees as he pulls himself out of his boxers, and he’s so hard that he’s already leaking pre-cum from the tip, nice and shiny, and he hasn’t even- hasn’t even felt Will yet.

“Maybe- maybe we should pull the covers up,” Will says, face flushing darker as he takes in Mack’s cock, sees the way that Mack’s cock is taut against his abs.

“Yeah, sure,” Mack agrees because he’s in danger of cumming all over himself if he sees it anyways.

They get under the covers, and Will’s watching him with big eyes as he goes to clutch his rosary and medallion, and Mack wonders what Catholic bullshit is running through his brain, probably feels so guilty about this, Mack muses.

“It’s okay, we’re just fixing this,” Mack reassures him as he lines himself up and presses the head of his cock to Will’s wet folds. “It’s not yours…doesn’t count.”

And Will reaches down to take Mack in his hands and helps him position Mack’s cock to his wet entrance. Then Will’s eyes close with something, maybe shame, maybe pleasure, but either way he’s allowing Mack inside his wetness: “Yeah, it’s not mine….”

“No, it’s not yours,” Mack says as he allows Will to guide Mack’s cock-head inside, and it’s so buzzy. He messes around, just feeling his cock all nice and wet against Will, pushing inside just a bit, just soaking the head.

And then Will surprises him by moaning out a low, “It’s yours, right?”

Oh my god.

Because now Mack is pushing in, hiding his face in the safe crook of Will’s neck as he gasps, “Yeah, fuck, Will. It's mine.”

And then Will’s legs wrap around him; Mack’s surprised to find a hand cupping the back of his neck and a voice by his ear, confirming, “Yours.”

Mack knows that’s right.

There’s no universe in which Will isn’t Mack’s. It feels correct— burying himself inch by pulsing inch inside of Will, until he’s bottomed out, until he’s stretched all the way inside of his best friend, buried inside his pussy. They’re impossibly close right now. They’ve never been closer, and Mack's eyes flutter shut in pleasure, cock happily pulsing at the feeling of Will nice and tight around him, keeping him inside.

“Doesn’t count,” Will whimpers like an explanation for how nice and tight that he is around Mack’s cock. He’s so wet too.

God.

Mack mouths hotly at Will’s neck as he realizes, "Technically I’m- I’m taking your virginity. That’s why you’re so tight; I got to- oh my god, I got to stretch you out, Smitty.”

And he feels the unmistakable way that Will whines and gets nice and wet around Mack’s cock. Wetter somehow than he was a minute ago.

Mack pulls out, pushes back in and says, “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Will gasps, and his pussy is so wet as if he’s been desperate for this.

“Yeah, good Catholic girl, right? Of course you wouldn’t be throwing this pussy around.”

Mack expects for Will to huff and tell him to ‘fuck off.’ Remind Mack that he’s not some girl. What he does not expect is for Will’s thighs to tighten around Mack’s back, driving him deeper into his wet, virgin pussy with a desperate “mmm, yeah. Never done this before, Mack. Wouldn’t do it with anyone else.”

“Am I the first hockey player thats ever fucked you?” Mack continues as he pulls out and then slowly pushes back in, fucking Will, thinking about Will’s earlier threat about letting the BC line run a train on him.

“Yeah, my first, Mack, you’re my first, my only,” Will agrees, and Mack can feel the way Will goes syrupy-soft under him, letting himself be something wet and perfect for Mack. It’s so good; this is addictive. Mack starts to slowly speed up, realizing that Will can take more. He’s taking Mack beautifully, perfectly, and, unlike a girl, Mack realizes he doesn’t need to hold back. He rocks harder, feeling the bed creak under their shared weight.

And then Will’s guiding Mack up by the nape of his neck, and he realizes with dizzying horror that Will wants to…he’s angling their faces together, and Mack turns his face away at the least second, heart thumping, stopping them from kissing.

“Mack,” Will says and contents himself with smacking his lips against Mack’s cheek, mouth brushing against Mack’s mouth, and it’s too close, too close to something like making love instead of just fucking.

“Will,” Mack whimpers, and his cock twitches, and he’s moments away from cumming, just seconds away from spilling all wet and hot inside of Will, filling up his pussy with cum.

“That’s it,” Will says against his cheek. “Just once. That’s all I need. Just cum inside me once, Macky.”

And then Will’s squeezing and cumming around Mack’s cock, just from getting fucked, and Mack didn’t know that was possible. No girls ever cum just from him fucking them. So he gives up holding back, just pants, open mouthed and horny, as he lets go and fucks into Will, filling him up with his cum.

Mine, Mack thinks. That’s mine, my wish, my Will.

——-

They’re just laying there, not exactly cuddling, but Mack still has his body weight pressed down on Will.

At some point they’d fallen asleep, and when they woke up, Will had whispered in his ear, “Mack, it didn’t work.”

And now Mack eagerly pulls back the covers to see that he was right— just fucking once didn’t fix it.

Mack has to school his face not to look too happy about it, but it’s hard when his cock is twitching already, eager to be buried back inside of Will.

“Yeah, it didn’t,” Mack says and then flicks his eyes up to Will’s pinched face and quivering lip and, uh, oh yeah, empathy or whatever.

What the fuck is a normal response here?

“Sorry,” Mack tries.

“No. You’re not.”

“Uh, I’m sorry that you’re upset?”

“Mack, why didn’t it work?!” Will huffs and pushes Mack off him, and Mack rolls off, thinking about how Will had tried to kiss him a bit when they were fucking, right before they both came, but he doesn’t bring that up because it’s kind of embarrassing on Will’s part.

Instead Mack clears his throat and confesses, “So, uh, my wish wasn’t just pussy.”

“Dude! What do you mean?! You lied to me?”

“I didn’t lie…it’s just. Okay, I was drunk. I don't remember the exact wording of my wish, that's the problem. And I was thinking about pussy, but, uh…but right before I blew out the candles I looked up at you, and I saw you were standing next to my mom…”

Will pinches the bridge of his nose: “Your mom? I am terrified where this is going. I think we need Freud present for your family weirdness.”

“It’s not weird!”

“The man who just came inside me is reassuring me that it’s ’not weird,’ right. I’m so reassured.”

“I just looked over at my Mom and then back at you, and I thought…about how you both-“ love me. “Take care of me. And I wished for something…like that. I wished it could be easier.”

“Easier,” Will repeats. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Like, easier.”

“Okay now we’re just repeating the word easier over and over. What- what the fuck was your wish, Mack?!”

“I wanted it to be easy. I wanted it to be easier for you to- to take care of me.”

“So,” Will groans and gives him a bitchy look. “How the fuck do we wish fulfil ‘I want it to be easier?’”

“Uh, you- you make it easier for me, I guess?”

Duh.

“As in?”

“As in,” Mack thinks of his deepest wish and flushes. “Like…don’t wear underwear and let me put it in whenever I want, you know? Like- like don’t say ‘no.’”

“You wished for easy access pussy that would never say ‘no’ to you, and you gave it to me…because…?”

“Because you never say no to me,” Mack blurts. “And you take care of me…”

Better than my Mama does, Mack thinks silently but chooses not to add that bit.

“So what you’re saying is you want me to just be okay with this?”

“I mean…it’ll be an adjustment,” Mack says, flushed.

It’s not even the first time Will has changed for him. Will used to play only center in BC, but when he came to the NHL, he changed to playing wing position, so that he could play with Mack. And now he’s Mack’s wing. God, that thought makes Mack’s cock twitch— that Will would change himself just to satisfy him.

“You’re awful,” Will says, but he sounds more endeared than upset now. “Once again— I can see how you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Once again. I don’t want one, dude.”

“How are you going to get married and have kids if you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know I’m twenty one like I give a fuck about any of that?”

Will rolls his eyes but he’s smiling fondly: “You’re unreal, Mack.”

“What do you fantasize about then?”

And Will averts his gaze— “Just…Stanley cup. Winning it.”

Which is a hell of a way to evade the girlfriend question.

“Uh huh. Who doesn’t dream of the Stanley Cup?” Mack snorts. “But for real I don’t see you with anybody?”

“I like girls,” Will says immediately, defensive. Like he wasn’t trying to kiss Mack when they fucked.

“Sure,” Mack says and then, losing interest in the conversation, moves the covers back up.

Mack scoots closer to Will, slowly, giving Will the opportunity to move away, but Will stays put, looking at Mack with this strange expression.

Will wraps his hand around his chain and repeats, “I do. I like girls. I want to go back to normal.”

Guilt.

That’s it, that’s why Will is being so weird about this. He feels guilty…about liking it? Dick? Mack imagines how he would feel if he took his best friends dick and came on it. Yeah, weird and guilty makes sense.

“I get it,” Mack says as he runs a hand up and down Will’s side. “I get that you feel weird about doing this. I’d feel weird too. But the people on Reddit said…we gotta fulfill the wish thing? So you don’t need to feel guilty. ‘Cause you have to. Otherwise we can’t fix it, right?”

“Right,” Will agrees. “I have to.”

See? Mack can do empathy.

He’s great at it.

Mack runs his hands down to Will’s thighs and presses it into Will’s sugar-soft pussy. It melts right under his fingertips, and he sinks inside.

“I’m- I’m serious, dude. I don’t want to think about this, okay? This is your wish.”

“Okay, it’s mine,” Mack says happily as he stretches a second finger inside, just enjoying the feeling of Will’s pussy. “I promise you don’t have to worry about it, okay? It’s not yours to worry about.”

“It’s not mine,” Will says, sounding relieved, lets Mack push in a third finger, and it’s making these wet noises as he works his fingers in and out of Will. Good fucking pussy noises.

“Not yours,” Mack confirms and feels Will tighten and then relax as Mack crooks his fingers inside. “Don’t worry about it.”

This is perfect.

Because Mack is really selfish in bed. Well, according to girls feedback he is. He wants what he wants when he wants it. He’s been told he’s too needy, too bossy. But Will seems only too happy to let Mack decide the play.

And then Mack’s pulls out his fingers and rolls on top of Will to line himself up, and Will breathes in his ear— “It’s yours, Mack. Your wish.”

“Yeah,” Mack agrees as he hides his face in the crook of Will’s neck and sinks inside his new favorite place with a satisfied groan. “It’s all mine.”

And Will spreads his legs and Mack sinks down all the way in, easy as silk, and so wet and warm and repeats to himself “mine,” and, as if he’s reading Mack’s thoughts, Will softly sighs “yours.”

“Oh my god, it’s perfect, dude. I wish you could feel it too,” Mack moans into Will’s ear. “It’s the best pussy I’ve ever had. You’d love it.”

And he’s buried so deep there’s not an inch to move, and Will isn’t saying anything just breathing roughly in his ear, and Mack laughs as he realizes—

“Are- are you close? All I did was put it in.”

“You feel…” Will stops. “I mean whatever this thing is sensitive. It’s not mine. I don’t like dick, but, uh, but it does. Like yours, I mean.”

Mack thinks Will’s full of shit. He had tried to kiss Mack last time. That had nothing to do with having a wish pussy. There was definitely a real part of Will that’s turned on by this.

“Uh huh, sure,” Mack just says instead of “so you like taking dick, Will?”

Because taunting Will while mid-fuck is, like, bad manners.

So he just takes Will by the thighs, gripping the backs of them as he pulls out and slams back in, fucking Will nice and slow, steady, and Will’s real fucking easy for it too. He’s gasping “yeah, Mack, yeah, there, there,” and he’s gripping around Mack. It’s insane.

Mack feels Will’s thighs start to shake and it’s just so fucking visceral, fucking him.

“Doesn’t count,” Will whines. “Nobody will ever have to know.”

“Just us,” Mack says. 

And Will wraps his legs around Mack’s back as his back arches against the bed, and Mack looks up, and their eyes lock, and-

“You can go harder than that, you're not going to break me,” Will moans. “Not- not one of your girls, Macky.”

Mack slams in.

He feels Will clench and flutter around him, and if the noise he makes is any indication— he loves being filled up by Mack.

“God,” Mack says and then starts running his mouth. “That’s mine, Will. You’re not going to ever tell anybody. This is just for me, isn’t it? Just something you do for me.”

“Yeah, Mack, fuck, just for you,” Will promises and he’s cumming, squeezing down around Mack; he feels Will clenching and releasing like in waves. He’s gasping and scratching at his back, squeezing his muscular hockey thighs around Mack, trying to pull Mack in closer while he orgasms, like he’s desperate for Will and Mack to somehow  merge into one. As if there could be no more space between them. 

“Yeah, yeah, Will, can’t- can’t believe I’m making you come,” Mack moans, truthfully, because he’s never made a girl cum just with his cock, no other stimulation.

And it’s so heady, such a fucking ego trip to have his best friend a whimpering mess under him, just because of his dick, and it’s too hot to do anything except for finish inside of Will, fill him up with his cum, make Will his.

“Wow, that was…wow,” Will sighs after, and it’s true this is incredible for both of them— their bodies have made it true.

“Yeah,” Mack groans in agreement as he collapses on top of Will. “Give me, like, thirty minutes then we’re doing that again.”

————-

And Will doesn’t say no.

Will gives and he gives and he gives.

He allows Mack to be greedy— because Mack takes and he takes and he takes.

When Will comes out of the shower, looking clean and fresh, wearing nothing but Mack’s oversized hoodie, Mack has to have him. He presses Will up against the wall, drops to his knees, and buries his face between his thighs. When Will’s sitting on the couch in his sweats, Mack wrestles him down into the pillows, pushes down the grey pants, excited to see that Will isn’t wearing any boxers. And when it’s nighttime, Mack crawls into Will’s bed, runs his hand up and down Will’s body.

Not that Will doesn’t talk back. Mack’s earned himself many bitchy comments, annoyed “Macklins,” huffs, eye rolls, and groans. But still, every time, when it comes down to it, Will relaxes his body, lets Mack take whatever he wants.

And Mack wants and wants and wants.

He’s always felt too much for any girl. Because Mack’s level of horny is this near constant furnace, burning to a passion and degree that would leave anyone else exhausted, everyone except for Will, it seems, who has endless patience for Mack’s needs.

It’s been almost two weeks since his birthday, and neither of them have gotten tired of it.

“Where’s my girlfriend?” Mack teases as goes to find Will on the couch. That’s his newest bit. He does it mostly to see the tight, bitchy look that Will gets at the feminizing word.

“I’m still a boy, dumbass.”

“Yeah, but you feel like a girl, right here,” Mack says as he pulls Will’s book out of his hands, sets it down on the table with the page bookmarked face down, and then straddles him, getting his hand between Will’s thighs, so it’s pressed right there, right where Will’s soft and already wet.

Will squeezes his thighs together: “Can’t I just read my book in peace and quiet?”

“Not looking like that, no,” Mack says as he peels off his own workout shirt. He’s dizzy from his own routine, but he still wants this. Well, no, actually, correction— Mack wants this, always.

It’s Will’s fault for looking that hot. He’s got a post workout glow on his tanned cheeks, golden curls framing his pouty face. He’s wearing a soft grey shirt and a pair of workout shorts that Mack can see his print through (feels it too).

Fuck.

“Leave me alone,” Will groans even as he pulls off his shirt, so they’re both bare-chested and already panting.

“Can’t. Not when you have something that’s mine,” Mack says with a smirk as he reaches down to paw at the warmth of Will’s pussy, just to hold it, feel it, possess it. He’s like an overexcited puppy that always wants to play.

“You already had it twice today.”

“So?” Mack says and then manhandles Will, turning him over, so he’s face down, ass up, and he pulls down Will’s workout shorts and groans. Fuck.

Will and pussy?

It never gets old. Mack eyes flutter as he palms himself at the perfect sight. So soft and pink. Will keeps it nice and shaved too.

“Already wet,” Mack says as he presses two teasing fingers to Will’s pussy, just to feel it.

“Ah, god, Mack,” Will moans as Mack teases him.

And Mack’s finger stretches him obscenely open. He’ll never get over that; the ability to fill up Will. It feels too good to be true. Willpussy. Mack bites his bottom lip as he feel’s Will happily pulse around his fingers as he slowly starts to finger fuck him open.

“How am I supposed to stop when you’re always wet?” Mack asks, “You’re, like, in heat. Walking around our place, so easy for it.”

“You know I can’t help it,” Will immediately protests as Mack adds a third finger, stretching him all the way open. “It’s just the wish.”

“Right, just the wish,” Mack says, even though he knows that’s bullshit.

That’s just what Will says so he doesn’t have to feel guilty that he cums three times a day on Mack’s cock. That he’s becoming a slut for it. That he clearly wants this just as badly as Mack does.

“I’ve been praying about it,” Will says, looking back at Mack with those gorgeous blue eyes, and Mack just raises his eyebrows and nods with a “mhm, whatever you say, Will.”

Mack prefers to listen to the sweet wet sounds of Will’s pussy taking it, being fucked open by fingertips, and deny it as much as he wants, Will immediately spreads his thighs wider, trying to take more of Mack. His body can’t lie like his mouth does.

“I’m serious. I think that, uh, that we could fix it by, ah, by praying together.”

“I’ll leave that to you,” Mack says, trying not to roll his eyes at Will’s Catholic shit.

And Will just hums and buries his face into the pillow; Mack can see that he’s got his rosary and medallion tight in his hand. Mack wouldn’t be surprised if he started to pray during sex.

“Stop that, come on. It’s not your fault,” Mack insists as he pulls out his hand, wipes it on Will’s thigh and then reaches up to wrap his hand around Will’s, and Will looks up as Mack laces their hands together over his necklace.

“It’s not working,” Will sighs, even as he squeezes Mack; Mack squeezes back.

“It’s working,” Mack lies, knowing that the only thing that’s going to happen is Mack is going to fuck Will raw, cum inside him, fill him up, makes him into his personal fuck toy. For the third time today.

And Mack pulls himself out and repeats that it’s “working” and that it’s all going to be okay, and even if that’s all bullshit, Will believes a lot of fake bullshit. Namely, God. And so long as he believes, Will keeps his thighs spread for Mack.

“Working so good,” Mack reassures him as he pushes inside, and Will whimpers into the pillow, back arching to push his ass up into Mack, and Mack meets him on his next thrust.

He keeps his right hand interlaced with Will’s. That’s been something they’ve been doing lately, holding hands through it. Mack’s not sure why, but it reminds him that he’s tight and close to his two favorite things in the universe— he’s got a pussy wrapped around his cock and Will’s hand wrapped around his hand.

Perfection.

Mack closes his eyes and loses himself in the goodness. He finds heaven right there, fucking inside of Will, letting his mouth hang open and his head fall back.

“Fuck, fuck, you feel so fucking good. God, does it feel this good for you?” Mack asks and squeezes Will’s hand.

And Will squeezes his hand back and nods his head into the pillow. Will doesn’t like to talk through it like Mack, but Mack can never shut up, especially not when he’s buried all the way inside Will.

“I love this, love being this close to you. It feels so right, feels so good. Feels like my favorite thing in the world. Feels like, ah-“

Like being in love.

Oh.

And Mack’s hips slam to a stop, and that makes Will look back at him with an annoyed little- “Mack?”

“Ah, yeah,” Mack says, chest tight at the revelation and he drapes himself over Will, putting pressure down on him and rocks into him.

And Will brings their joined hands, still locked over his rosary and medallion to his mouth, and he- he kisses their fingers.

“Oh- oh my god,” Mack gasps, and his hips are stuttering closer and closer, and he’s going to- to-

Will looks back at him, peering through his lashes, and it’s that— that feeling of being seen by Will in this intimate moment that makes Mack’s cock jerk, and he’s gone. He’s not going to make it more than one more thrust.

He feels Will squeeze around him, knows the tell-tale quiver of Will orgasming around him, still watching Mack with parted lips, and Mack’s finishing right as Will does, both of their orgasms in-sync.

“Mack,” Will says and presses another sweet kiss to Mack’s hand.

“Will,” Mack gasps, still watching him through half-lidded eyes, and there’s no more stopping. He’s cumming inside of Will, helpless to do anything else but cum, pumping Will full and full and full.

Mack collapses on top of Will, still inside him, and their hands are threaded together. Intimate.

“This isn’t working,” Will rasps.

“It’s working,” Mack insists.

“But I’m still like this.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mack acknowledges. “What’s wrong with that?”

Because Mack never wants to fix this. He wants Will to stay like this forever. Be his right hand. Be next to him. Under him. Always with him.

Will is still holding his hand.

And Will finally asks the question that’s been on his mind— “What if I’m stuck like this forever?”

I hope you are, Mack thinks. This is where you belong. Under me. Always.

Mack tenderly presses a kiss to Will’s neck and says, “Would that be such a bad thing? We have it good, dude. No annoying girlfriends, no wives. Just you and me. Just us. That’s all we need.”

And Will sighs under him: “Mack, how are we going to explain this?”

“We don’t need to explain anything to anybody,” Mack says, selfish for Will, all of him. “This is just for us. Ok? It’s an us thing. A WillMack thing.”

“That’s insane,” Will says, but he sounds like he’s considering it.

“Why not?”

“Because you- you won’t even kiss me!”

“I could kiss you,” Mack says because this is the first time that Will’s said it out loud.

Mack’s a little weirded out at the idea of kissing a boy, but it’s not just a boy— it’s Will.

So, that’s fine.

When he pulls out of Will, he watches his cum drip down Will’s leg and thinks about how if he fucks Will one more time they’ll have a new record number. Four. That’s insane. He’s never fucked the same person four times, not in the same day.

Will gingerly stands up and goes to clean himself in the shower.

Mack just lays there and breathes. He keeps circling back to his wish, wondering what he had said.

Will doesn’t come back, so Mack cleans himself up in his room and goes to find that Will’s reheating them dinner on the stove.

“Come on,” Mack says and wraps his arms around Will. “Don’t be like that.”

“Mack, you’re not even trying to fix this anymore, are you?”

No.

Mack presses a kiss to Will’s neck, and he would fuck him again, but he’s hungrier for food. Stomach wins this round.

“Mack. You’re pissing me off, dude.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Mack says as he leans his head on Will’s shoulder and nuzzles against it. “Uh, why are you upset?”

“Our break is going to end and we’re going to go back to hockey, and how am I supposed to get dressed in the changing room like this?”

“Huh, I didn’t think of that.”

“Because you don’t think!”

“Will, don’t be mean,” Mack whines and squeezes Will’s waist from the back, hanging off him like he would hang off his Mom’s skirts when she used to cook them dinner.

He thinks about his Mama, about his drunken birthday. About how Mack hasn’t touched a drink since. How he’s been so happy.

“What did you wish for?” Will asks for the millionth time.

But it’s pointless.

No matter how many times he goes over it Mack can’t find what’s missing. Why his wish isn’t fulfilled.

He sighs and watches Will serve them dinner.

“What would happen if this ended tomorrow,” he asks instead for the first time. “Would we just pretend this never happened? Go back to normal?”

“Well, yes, obviously,” Will says and Mack jolts.

Wait. That’s it.

“What? What did you realize Mack?”

“I don’t want this to be over,” he talks out loud. “Because if it was, we would stop.”

“What’s the alternative? If I don’t have a….how would you…?”

Mack opens his mouth to say “but there’s other holes.” And then he closes it. He’s been learning lots about empathy.

Mack shrugs: “We could do other…stuff?”

Good, that was good.

“Other stuff. Sure. You won’t even kiss me,” Will says with an eye roll, and Mack grabs him by the wrist and presses him to the counter. The same one that he’d laid Will over just yesterday.

“I can kiss you,” he says, serious, and he watches Will’s eyes widen, flicking between Mack’s eyes and his lips.

“Don’t joke.”

“Not joking.”

“Mack, you’re not gay. I’m a boy. I already told you, so-“

“Don’t care,” he says and squeezes Will’s wrist. “This is why the wish isn’t fulfilled.”

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t want this to stop.”

“I got that, but…? I don’t- I don’t understand,” Will says as Mack’s hand slowly reaches up to cup his face, and his heart’s racing in his chest because he wants…he wants to…

“I want it to be easier,” Mack says.

“Yeah, I know. Easy access, dumbass. Easier. Be easier! I get it. You’ve only been fucking me raw three times a day. How much easier can I get for you?” Will snaps red faced and angry.

“No, I mean I wanted it to be easier to do this,” Mack says and leans in, and Will stiffens under him as he gently presses their lips together.

And even after cumming raw inside Will for weeks, there’s nothing more vulnerable than this moment. There’s nothing like the soft brush of their lips together.

“You get it now?” Mack repeats as he pulls back.

Will’s face softens, even as his hand goes to his necklace to clutch at his rosary and medallion— “I…Mack, you really…? Even if I go back to normal?”

“Yep.”

“How hard is it for you right now not to say ‘a hole is a hole?’”

“I’m slowly fucking dying here, dude.”

Will smiles, trying not to, but then he bursts into a grin and laughs: “You’re so fucking dumb. You wished for me to have a pussy, so…we could be together?”

“No, so we could realize we were already together.”

————

The next morning, Will wakes up back to normal, no more pussy, and Mack presses him into the mattress and fucks him anyways.

“Don’t say it,” Will says as Mack pushes into him for the first time without a pussy.

“A hole is a hole,” Mack whispers in Will’s ear and almost gets elbowed in his giggling red face.

Because it’s always just them.