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Willy wasn’t always the most observant, he preferred things be outright said than just hinted at. His mom always joked that he and Alex weren’t the best at reading the room, and he’d pretty much accepted it because he’d gotten along fine just without that skill. But when he finally made the roster, as oblivious as he was, even he saw whatever was going on with Mitch and Auston.
He found himself watching them a lot, wondering if anyone else saw what he did. No one ever reacted, and he told Alex that maybe he was unobservant but the rest of his teammates were just downright oblivious . Alex’s suggestion was just that Willy was more in touch with his romantic side.
It all really started with that first day. Auston walked in early, chip already on his shoulder. Willy wasn’t sure why, they hadn’t even started but Auston already looked so tense, like he was carrying the entire weight of the city’s expectations already.
Mitch walked in ten minutes later, tense but in a different way. Where Auston looked ready to shoulder an insane amount of responsibility, Mitch looked like he was about to fight for his life. Willy kind of got it, he wasn’t the biggest guy either and as Mitch glanced around the locker room, Willy could read his facial expression: how am I supposed to prove I belong here.
Their stalls were next to each other, and Willy wasn’t sure how exactly they’d been assigned, just that all the rookies seemed to be paired up and sandwiched by vets. He shouldn’t really have been surprised, looking back, the two new guys, if things were to go well for them, the way Lou, Kyle, Shanny, and Babs were expecting, both of them would be wearing Leafs sweaters.
Mitch’s knee bounced incessantly while he got ready, not talking, Auston next to him. Auston was steadier, he looked calm and collected while Mitch practically shook apart next to him. Willy was the first one there, he sat, dressed, while everyone talked around him, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the other two boys.
“Hey, Mitch,” Auston muttered, giving the other boy a weak smile.
Mitch’s smile looked just as forced, “Morning, Auston. How are you feeling?”
It felt weirdly formal, but Willy supposed they didn’t really know each other past rookie camp. Auston shrugged, smiling weakly, “Pretty good, you?”
Fiddling with an extra piece of tape, Mitch answered, voice shaking, “Good as I can be. Hoping round two goes better than last year.”
“We can do this,” Auston told him, holding a fist out between the two of them.
Mitch hesitated, staring down at it for a few seconds before reaching out to bump his with Auston’s gently. Something squeezed in Willy’s chest as he watched the boys exchange two of the shyest smiles he’d ever seen. It rattled him and he realized that was also the first smile either of them had broken since stepping into the locker room.
After the first day, Mitch stayed out on the ice with Auston to be his passer for Auston to work on one-timers. They’d all been heading toward the locker rooms when Auston caught Mitch’s sleeve. Mitch turned, smiling again when he saw who had him, and Auston’s voice was too low for Willy to pick up what he was saying, but Mitch stepped off to the side to let everyone pass before stepping back onto the ice with Auston.
Auston said something to him, and Mitch laughed loudly, echoing off the empty ice, head thrown back. Doing a double take, Willy was pretty sure Auston’s cheeks were a little flushed, lips tugged up the slightest bit while he watched Mitch react to whatever he’d said. Willy ducked out of sight to watch, and the two started tapping the puck back and forth, Mitch skating a bit further away after a few minutes.
They had chemistry, even Willy could see, and every puck went tape to tape. He felt like he was invading, watching this private moment between the two of them even though they were still in public and anyone could walk back out to the ice at any time. So distracted, trying to decide if he should leave, Willy missed Auston’s shot go wide, but he heard the glass behind the net shatter , immediately followed by Mitch’s loud laughter again.
Auston skated over, and Mitch threw an arm around his shoulder, “What a fucking shot on this guy, gonna be a legend.”
Rolling his eyes, Auston gently knocked his fist into Mitch’s jaw, not even hard enough to turn his head, and mumbled his response too low for Willy to hear. Mitch laughed again, and Willy couldn’t exactly pin down the look in his eyes, but it looked so entranced, like he was hanging on to everything Auston would give him. It made something in his chest twist and Willy was hooked. But that was just the start.
They lost their first game, it was close, but overshadowing the loss was Auston’s incredible debut. Four fucking goals. Willy was part of it, of course he was, playing on a line with Auston, he’d been on the ice. But when they got to the locker room, and Auston was back from talking to his parents and the media and taking pictures with the pucks, he was with Mitch. Willy didn’t even get a chance to congratulate his own liney.
“Aus,” Mitch breathed, grin practically splitting his face open, “what a fucking legend!”
Auston looked shyly proud, like he wanted to gloat, but that he was toning it down for Mitch’s sake. Mitch, also noticing, reached up and grabbed both of his shoulders, squeezing tightly, and shook him. Searching his eyes for a few seconds, whatever Auston saw finally brought a genuine smile to his face, one that he didn’t have during media or during the pictures. He bit his lip, “You think?”
“I know,” Mitch nodded earnestly, moving one of his hands from Auston’s shoulder to rest over his heart, patting his chest a few times, “I’m so proud.”
Auston’s jaw clenched and his fingers twitched like he was stopping himself from touching Mitch back. Willy wasn’t sure why, Mitch would’ve loved it, but Auston settled, ruffling Mitch’s already wild hair with that same genuine smile, “Thanks, Mitchy.”
“God it’s going to be so fucking great playing with you forever.”
It became very clear to everyone on the team that Auston preferred to not be touched. He wasn’t exactly rude about it, but he always stiffened, like having someone in his space made him incredibly uncomfortable. It became very clear to Willy that Mitch was the exception. Mitch was constantly in Auston’s grill, whether it was a hand on his arm or an arm (comedically) slung over Auston’s shoulder, and Willy knew Mitch could tell, but he didn’t know what Mitch thought about it.
Until they played the Sabres. It was a shitty fucking game and Auston was getting badgered. Defenders had been marking him pretty tightly, and Willy could feel the tension radiating from him, the frustration of not being able to get away enough to make anything happen. It boiled over when Ristolainen, the guy who’d been all over him for most of the game, shoved him.
Mitch reacted immediately . Willy watched, holding his breath, as Mitch wrapped himself around Ristolainen, doing his best to get him away from Auston. Everyone, including Mitch, knew there was no way he could take the Sabres player, no matter how hard he tried, but Willy could hazard a guess that Mitch didn’t care. The whole bench watched in awe as their smallest player managed to wrestle Ristolainen all the way to the ice.
Auston stared down at them, an unreadable look on his face as Mitch clambered back to his feet, partly helped by the ref. Mitch looked furious and he glanced back at Auston, face softening a bit, as if to make sure he was okay, before skating away, back toward the bench. Willy made space for him wordlessly and ignored him cursing under his breath at Ristolainen, at the refs, at the score.
Willy watched carefully that night, and Auston kept his distance, jaw set. He always went straight to Mitch after a loss, letting the other boy talk to him until he looked less lost, less hopeless and defeated. Not that night, that night he went straight to his stall and sat down, bent over and hands pressed firmly over his eyes.
Mitch got dressed, looking over at him every so often. He knew Auston was upset about something , but Willy could tell he wasn’t sure exactly why Auston was mad. It was baffling, he thought it was so obvious that the thought of Mitch getting hurt on his behalf devastated him.
Willy stalled, maybe it was invasive, but he wanted to see what happened. His shower took extra long and he watched them tiptoe around each other in there too. They still weren’t talking while he painfully slowly got dressed, and finally, while he was pulling his socks on, Mitch snapped.
“Aus,” the boy started quietly, “did I do something wrong?”
Auston blinked at him, caught off guard, and with every second he didn’t answer, Mitch’s shoulders dropped another inch. After a few seconds, he shook his head and jumped up, tilting Mitch’s dropped chin to look him in the eye, “Why?” he asked.
“What?” Mitch responded, eyebrows furrowed.
Turning Mitch’s face side to side, hand still on his jaw, Auston just looked . What he was looking for Willy wasn’t sure, maybe bruises or marks, the physical proof that Mitch stood up for him against a guy twice his size. When he was satisfied, Auston let his hand drop, resting on the back of Mitch’s neck, “Why’d you go after him.”
Mitch’s jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed, “Because he hit you.”
Auston snorted, “He shoved me and it wasn’t that big a deal. You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“I can take care of myself,” Mitch scoffed, “but I’m not going to let him just get away with that shit.”
Auston finally cracked and he smiled at Mitch’s indignant response. The thumb attached to the hand still holding Mitch’s neck brushed gently over Mitch’s jaw as he kept direct eye contact with a still glaring Mitch. Slowly, brush by brush, Mitch started to relax, and Auston moved his hand away, letting it fall back by his side.
“I can take care of myself too,” Auston reminded him gently, “but thank you.”
Mitch puffed up at the thanks and knocked Auston’s shoulder with his knuckles a few times, “Anytime, Aus.”
Willy stared at them, jaw dropped, taken aback by the softness in Auston’s smile at Mitch’s back when Mitch turned back to his stall to finish getting dressed. He’d grown used to seeing their secret looks at each other’s backs, they were common occurrences, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything like that before. Auston sat back down in his stall, hands gripping onto the wooden bench as he stared at Mitch.
“Ready to go?” Mitch asked a few seconds later, startling both Auston and Willy, and Auston nodded, standing up to follow him out of the locker room. The door clicked shut behind them a few seconds later, and Willy let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He’d been watching them a while, but that was new.
Sometimes the coaches called meetings. If the team was struggling or they felt a particular player was struggling, they’d call them in after practice. Babs sent Willy a text one night saying he’d like to speak with him after practice one afternoon, and Willy agreed, but when he got there, he realized he wasn’t the first, that Mitch was already in there, Auston sitting outside on the floor.
Willy nodded at him, and the smile he got in return was fleeting before Auston tilted his head back toward the door. It took a few seconds, but Willy realized he was trying to listen. After a few seconds, Willy asked, “You meeting with them too?”
“Nah, just Mitchy, but he’s my ride, so,” Auston trailed off and Willy nodded. He remembered when that started, Auston shyly asking Mitch for directions and Mitch just waving him away with a loud offer to drive him everywhere. Admittedly, Willy figured it would end after their first season did, but as time went on, they just started to take turns. One person bringing the coffee and the other driving.
“You know what they’re talking about?” Willy asked, curiosity winning out.
Auston frowned and sighed, “No, but it doesn’t sound good.”
“You can hear them?”
He hesitated before shaking his head, “Not really, I can kind of hear Mitch and his voice sounds weird, so something’s wrong.”
Before Willy could ask anything else, something like how do you know or how are you so oblivious , the door flew open and a very tense Mitch was standing in front of them, fist of the hand not holding the door clenched tightly. Auston jumped to his feet and started across the hallway, confidently like he knew Mitch wouldn’t shove him away, and he was right because Mitch didn’t.
“What happened?” Auston asked, voice soft. Mitch bit the inside of his cheek, eyes red, and when he saw Willy, shook his head. Willy couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed, but Auston shook his head, hand clutching Mitch’s shoulders firmly to keep him from walking away. Shaking Mitch carefully, he asked again, “What happened?”
“They fucking,” Mitch’s voice cracked, “they’re moving me off the second line.”
Auston’s tone shifted, something colder when he asked, “Who is? Babs or Kyle and Lou?”
Mitch shook his head, eyes clenched shut as his breathing got more uneven. He swallowed loudly in the quiet hall, “Please, Aus.”
“Are they moving you to my line?” Auston asked. He already knew the answer, Willy could tell, but he was trying to hold on to some naive hope, whether it was for his benefit or Mitch’s, Willy couldn’t tell.
“No,” Mitch snorted, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead, “I fucking wish.”
“Where?” Auston demanded.
“Fourth line.”
Even Willy felt the temperature in the hallway drop at Mitch’s words. They moved Mitch of all people. Sure he’d been struggling to score, but he certainly wasn’t slacking out there on the ice. Auston’s hands on his shoulders tightened, and he yanked Mitch into his chest, wrapping him into the tightest hug Willy’s ever seen him give. Mitch practically melted, fully leaning into him, eyes closed while Auston spoke quietly into his ear, likely reassuring him.
Willy got that same feeling like he was intruding and he stood up, trying to make himself known without talking. Mitch startled at his movement, eyes flying open, and he blinked like he was just remembering where they were. Willy looked down at his feet, trying to give them some sort of privacy, but his curiosity won out, and he looked up to see Auston’s thumb brush under Mitch’s eye, wiping away the few tears that had leaked out.
“Sorry,” Mitch muttered, “I’m being dramatic.”
Auston frowned, dipping his head to make eye contact with Mitch, “What the fuck? No you’re absolutely not. Your feelings are valid, Mitchy.”
He shook his head so hard his hair flopped, “No, this is part of the game.”
“So what?” Auston asked, “Fuck that, you’re allowed to react to bad news, no matter how common it may be.”
Mitch huffed out a humorless laugh and rested his forehead on Auston’s collarbone, “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. Why are you saying sorry now?”
“You didn’t sign up to be my therapist.”
Auston’s head dropped back, and he glared at the ceiling while coming up with a response. When he looked back at Mitch, he grabbed his hand and squeezed, bringing it up under his chin, “I want to be here for you.”
“I can’t ask that much from you,” Mitch countered, not ready to back down.
“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”
Mitch’s disbelieving laugh was a bit wet as his eyes filled up with tears again. He shook his head at Auston, the look in his eye seemed bittersweet, and he finally spoke, “You’re the best.” Auston just smiled at him and pressed their foreheads together gently for a few seconds. Mitch inhaled sharply, drawing some sort of strength from their position, and Auston let him stay there for as long as he needed.
“Want me to drive?” Auston whispered finally.
Mitch cleared his throat, “Yeah, that’d be great.” After a few more sniffles, Mitch rubbed his nose and straightened his shoulder, “See you later, Will.”
“See you guys.”
Willy stayed in the hallway, frozen for a few seconds, not even realizing Babs was calling him in, trying to process what he’d just seen. He’d assumed they were just friends, but maybe they were together because the scene he’d just witnessed screamed boyfriends.
Auston invited him over one night to play video games. Willy was a bit surprised when he showed up and Mitch wasn’t there, he thought they basically lived together based on the amount of Mitch on the other boy’s Snapchat story, but the apartment was otherwise empty.
They were dicking around on COD for a while, not really focusing enough to put a ton of effort in, when there was a noise from the door. Willy flinched at the thump, but Auston didn’t even move, just rolled his eyes with a fond sigh. From that reaction, Willy knew it was Mitch before he even heard the other boy’s voice.
“I told you to stop throwing yourself at the door before it’s fully unlocked, Mitchell. You’re going to break it,” he gently chided, not at all effective.
Mitch scoffed, appearing in front of them, shedding his winter coat to hang up next to Auston’s on the hook, “Well stop locking me out.”
“You aren’t locked out, you have a key,” Auston rolled his eyes.
“But you should expect me to come and unlock the door,” Mitch pouted.
Willy raised his hand, “I locked it behind me.”
Auston pointed at him and turned back to Mitch, “See, I did leave it open for you. Does it make it up to you if I said I have cookies for you in the kitchen?”
Mitch lit up , “You made me cookies?”
At the same time Willy asked, “You cook?”
“Bro,” Mitch told him, “Auston can’t cook for shit, but his baking is unreal.” And then he was gone, booking it for the kitchen. Willy could hear him moving around, cabinets opening before the tap was running. He was obviously very comfortable in Auston’s kitchen.
Willy looked over at Auston, “How come you don’t bake for the team?”
Auston shrugged, staring at his fingers linked in his lap, “I try to bake for Mitch when he has dinner with his dad scheduled. His dad is,” he paused, looking for the right words, “not nice to him sometimes. It usually helps if he has a treat waiting when he comes over after.”
He hummed and Auston’s ears turned red at Willy’s assessing look. Willy hadn’t noticed that Auston had tensed up at his questioning, but he did notice Auston relax when Mitch came back, plate of cookies in one hand and two glasses of water tucked against his body and his other arm. Mitch handed one to Auston before sitting down on the other side of him, nudging Auston with his knee, “What are you guys up to?”
“COD,” Auston answered before offering up the remote, “Wanna play for me?”
Mitch shoved a whole cookie in his mouth, humming, and some of the crumbs flew out. Objectively it was disgusting, but Auston didn’t care, the fond look on his face never dropping as he watched Mitch. Wiping his greasy hands on his jeans, Mitch took the controller, “Sure. Feed me cookies?”
Auston snorted and rolled his eyes but did as Mitch asked. Willy and Mitch did better, Auston’s gentle teasing when one of them died and his refusal to call Mitch a gulag warrior every time he won. He also held up a cookie for Mitch to take a bite out of, finishing it off himself sometimes, or hanging onto it until Mitch wanted another bite.
Mitch didn’t stay too long. He mentioned something about FaceTiming his brother and put his shoes back on, a small plate with some of the cookies in his hand. Willy stood up, feeling like he’d overstayed his welcome and offered to drive Mitch home, but Mitch gave him a funny look, “I live two floors up.”
Willy knew Mitch didn’t really let people into his space. He liked leaving work at work, and when all the boys got together, hockey tended to come up. They quickly found out Mitch didn’t want hockey talk at his place, so they never had a team night there to not intrude on his boundaries. It wasn’t until then that Willy realized Auston was probably the only person that actually knew where Mitch lived.
“Oh,” he paused, “well, see you tomorrow, then.”
“Bye Will,” Mitch responded and Auston waved. Before Willy fully turned around, he caught Auston pulling Mitch into a tight goodbye hug. He smiled, it looked so comfortable, the most comfortable Auston had looked all night, despite he and Willy being close too.
Watching Auston and Mitch interact when one of them was drunk was maybe Willy’s favorite. He saw it many times over the years at bars in public or at private parties, and it never got old. Auston would relax, he always returned contact but he almost never initiated it with Mitch unless he had a few drinks in him. When they were out, Mitch usually stayed sober if Auston decided to drink and vice versa, but at parties, especially at a teammate’s house, they were far more relaxed.
They showed up to a team night together and Mitch wasted no time dragging Auston to Mo’s kitchen where all the food and alcohol was laid out. Willy wandered in after them and leaned against the doorframe, he wanted to talk to Mitch about something, but he got distracted by Auston dipping a finger in one of the dips someone set up on the bar and spreading it across Mitch’s cheekbone.
Mitch squealed, whirling around to smack Auston on the chest, laughing loudly, “Fuck you, Aus. That’s so gross.”
“It’s spinach dip, Mitchy.”
“Spinach is gross!” Mitch defended.
Auston rolled his eyes and brought his finger up to wipe it off, a fond look on his face. Then something new happened, something that caught even Willy off guard. Auston brought his finger up to his mouth and licked the dip off. Mitch’s jaw dropped and Willy swore his eyes flitted down to Auston’s lips.
Clearing his throat, Auston mumbled, “See, I don’t like spinach either, but spinach dip is good.”
When it looked like nothing was going to happen, Willy decided to bail out a still speechless Mitch, and he knocked on the door frame, “Boys, glad you could make it.”
“Willy,” Mitch crowed, shaking off whatever weirdness settled over them before going back to fixing drinks for him and Auston. He kept watching, already forgotten as Auston critiqued Mitch’s drink mixing from over his shoulder, almost pinning him to the counter from how close Auston was to him. When Mitch finished, Auston eyed the two cups before grabbing the one on the left. Pouting, Mitch complained, “That one was mine.”
“I know, that’s why I took it. You always make yours better.”
“Not this time,” Mitch sang, “enjoy your bonus everclear.”
Auston laughed and let Mitch drag him out of the kitchen toward the living room where everyone was gathered, arguing over what movie to start with. There wasn’t much room on the couch, and Auston sat down, immediately spreading his legs for Mitch to sit between on the floor, back pressed to the couch.
Mitch wrapped his arm around Auston’s leg and settled in, tilting his head to the side a bit so it was resting on the inside of Auston’s thigh. It took another 45 minutes of drinking for Auston to slide his hand into Mitch’s hair, scratching at his scalp gently, and Willy stopped watching the movie completely to watch his friends.
When he looked around, he realized he wasn’t the only one watching them, Freddie and Zach were both staring with knowing looks on their faces. And he was a bit surprised, he hadn’t realized anyone else had picked up on it, but maybe that was his oblivious tendencies finally jumping out.
Willy watched Mitch’s hand slide down Auston’s leg to tug at the hair exposed by the bottom of his sweats, causing Auston to jump and flick Mitch softly on the forehead. Mitch giggled and smiled up at him, and Auston shook his head, faux annoyed, “Stop being a little shit.”
“No,” Mitch answered, louder than he should’ve thanks to the alcohol, and he was promptly shushed by Mo. Mitch, undeterred, did it again, and Auston tugged his hair gently, but Mitch leaned into it, smirking up at Auston who rolled his eyes at the reaction. Mo shushed them again when Mitch laughed the next time, and they quieted down for the rest of the first movie.
Between the alcohol and Auston’s ministrations in his hair, Mitch fell asleep halfway through the second movie. Auston, though drunker than Mitch, managed to bend over and heft him up, into his lap, so that Mitch wasn’t sleeping on the floor. Willy was admittedly impressed.
Mitch shifted on his lap and snuggled into Auston’s chest unconsciously, hand gripping the hem of Auston’s shirt. The smile on Auston’s face was the softest thing Willy had ever seen in his life, and he wasn’t sure Auston even realized anyone else was in the room with them. No one else said anything, but Willy saw a few other guys look over, seeming surprised. It made him want to yell because they were so obvious.
Willy never really knew Auston’s biggest gripes with Babs. He knew part of it was because of Mitch, but he didn’t realize all of it was because of Mitch. Willy also knew Auston really wanted to play on a line with Mitch, but he didn’t realize exactly how mistreated his friend had been by their coach until Auston snapped in the parking lot.
“No, Mitchy, I don’t give a fuck what you think about your shot, you deserve a shot on the first line.”
Mitch’s laugh sounded strained, “Well, Coach knows best, right?”
Willy was sure it was in his head, but he swore he could actually hear Auston’s teeth grinding as he glared at Mitch, jaw tensed, “No, he really fucking doesn’t. You’re so talented, Mitchy, and he’s really not setting you up to succeed.”
“My dad says-” Mitch started.
But Auston cut him off, “Mitchy, I love you, I really do, but fuck your dad. Bringing him into this weakens your argument.”
Mitch laughed weakly, “I guess that’s fair. I just,” he paused, working his bottom lip with his teeth, “if he’s wrong about my shot and my offensive capabilities, why am I proving him right?”
“His job is to set you up with players who complement your skills. He hasn’t all of your years here. Now Kyle brought in JT, and it’s been good. But me and you, we could be better .”
“I know,” Mitch practically whispered, Willy had to lean in a lot to hear that one, and when he did, he finally got a full view of both of them. Auston was holding both of Mitch’s hands, thumbs stroking over Mitch’s knuckles in a soothing, steady motion. Mitch’s head was ducked, and Auston linked their fingers together, reaching to tilt his chin up with both of their hands.
“Look at me,” Auston mumbled, “you deserve everything and that includes playing on a line with your best friend. For at least a few shifts. Fuck Babs for not giving you that chance.”
“Don’t let Kyle hear you say that,” Mitch responded, lips twitching as he fought a smile at Auston’s vehement words.
“Kyle agrees,” Auston dismissed.
And Willy guessed he did because a few weeks later, Babs was gone. Mitch was back in Toronto, hurt, but Auston FaceTimed him immediately after practice to tell him the news. They were both ecstatic, especially when Auston told him that Keefe told him he’d try Auston and Mitch on the same line.
“Actually?” Mitch asked, tone awestruck.
“Actually,” Auston confirmed, voice trembling a bit.
“Fucking right, Aus!”
They were magical together once Mitch got back, Willy watched comfortably from his new position next to JT in awe as they strung together plays that should’ve been impossible, finding the smallest gap to get the puck through to each other. Every time, without fail, they leapt into each other’s arms, and willy wasn’t even fazed by the sappy looks on their faces. None of their teammates were. No one flinched at the gentle head taps, the tight squeezes pulling away at the last second to let everyone else join the celly, or even the few body slams into the boards.
But there was one no one could ignore. Mitch scored a filthy goal and Willy jumped to his feet along with the rest of the guys on the bench. He watched Auston skate to Mitch, arms open and he swore, for a split second, it looked like Auston was going for a kiss. Zach tensed next to him, and Willy whipped his head over to look.
Zach’s eyes were focused on the pair too, still hugging on the ice, which pretty much confirmed what Willy thought he saw. Mitch’s face buried in Auston’s chest, and Auston bending down to kiss his forehead. He waited, bated breath, but Auston pulled away, hand still on the top of Mitch’s head.
He could barely focus for the rest of the game, even his own goal, while a relief, barely registered in his brain that was replaying the celly. They were ahead of him back to the locker room, and when Mitch tugged Auston’s sleeve, pulling him off to the side, Willy ducked out of sight to watch.
Maybe it was creepy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d almost been part of it, and he just wanted to make sure they were actually going to do something about their stupid requited but unspoken feelings. Willy couldn’t hear what they were saying exactly, thought he thought he heard them complimenting each other.
Both boys had taken off their helmets, heads leaning towards each other naturally while they talked, Auston’s chin almost bumping Mitch’s forehead with how close they were. Mitch’s grip on his helmet was tightening and loosening every so often, exposing his nerves, and Willy felt his heartbeat rise, maybe.
Auston shook his glove off, letting it hit the floor, and before Mitch could react, he’d wiped his hand on his jersey and was tilting Mitch’s chin up with his bare hand to press their lips together. Mitch froze, stiffening in shock, and Willy tensed, praying Auston gave it enough time for Mitch to work past his surprise.
He did, staying firm until Mitch melted into it and started kissing him back. It only went on for a few more seconds, Auston pulling away to brush his thumb over Mitch’s cheekbone while kissing his forehead one last time. Mitch’s cheeks were bright red as he beamed at Auston.
“Fucking finally,” he spoke up, loud enough for Willy to catch it.
Auston scoffed, “You could’ve kissed me.”
Mitch shrugged, “I wasn’t sure.”
Willy wanted to laugh. How could he have not been sure. Over all these years of just observing it was so goddamn obvious how head over heels Auston was. Auston, thinking the same as Willy, shook his head, “It’s only you, Mitch.”
Mitch’s jaw dropped slightly at the confession before he smiled, eyes wide and a little teary, “I love you too.”
As they leaned in for another kiss, Willy left, content that they’d finally figured it out. Zach walked over when he made it to his stall and asked, voice excited, “So?” and Willy just nodded. Fighting a smile, Zach whispered, “Thank god.” Willy couldn’t help but agree.