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Will brings the rosary ring up to his mouth, lips barely kissing the edges of it as he whispers his Hail Marys. He’s sat up in bed, blanket curling around his hips as he completes his nightly ritual. Light spills out from under the bathroom door where Mack is showering. Will always completes his Hail Marys when Mack is showering. The rosary ring that usually sits heavy on his chest, sits even heavier between his fingers and the prayers whispered out into the quiet sanctuary are something Will has yet to give Mack permission to see.
Mack had never grown up under the watchful eye of the church. He’d never sat fidgeting in church pews listening to a man preach about loving thy neighbour and condemning all those who use the free will God gave them to Hell in the same breath. Mack had never been 15 years old and sat in confession asking God for forgiveness for saying the Lord’s name in vain. Mack had never asked what it was like and Will had never offered up an explanation. It’s easier to pretend that Will doesn’t feel the weight of the lie he’s trapped in when the two of them refuse to acknowledge the chain around Will’s neck.
Sometimes it feels more like a ball and chain dragging behind him than the comfort his mom gifted him with. Will’s eyes tear up as he thinks of his mom expecting little blonde haired, blue eyed mini Smiths running around in their backyard and a beautiful Catholic woman on Will’s arm. His mom had given him everything and now he couldn’t even give her the one thing she’d asked for in return.
Will doesn’t regret this thing he has with Mack. Mack is his long limbed, talking 100 miles a minute, overthinking, beautiful and kind home. Will never refers to Mack as his boyfriend, or partner or whatever. It’s not enough. Never enough. Because Mack is where Will feels safest. And isn’t that what home is meant to be?
Like his prayers, Will has never uttered the phrase to Mack. He’d probably find it sweet that Will calls him home. Will can imagine it clearly; Mack’s Cheshire cat grin as he whispers sweet nothings in Will’s ear and trailing hot kisses down his chest. The thought sends shivers down Will’s spine.
The shower switches off and Will drops his rosary ring back onto his chest. He pulls back the covers on Mack’s side of the bed and refluffs Mack’s pillows. Mack emerges from the bathroom two minutes later, drops his wet towel on the floor and saunters his way over to the bed.
“You’re cute when you look like that.” Mack plops down on the bed next to him and holds his arms out for Will to curl up into.
“Like what?”
“Like a grumpy kitten.”
“I do not look like a grumpy kitten.”
“It’s okay babe. You totally do and I happen to think it’s ho- ow!”
Mack’s got a mouthful of the blanket and Will can’t help but giggle at this silly, stupid man that he loves. Mack throws the blanket off his face and snorts as he pulls Will in closer.
“Your thoughts are loud tonight, you okay?”
“Just thinking.”
“So that’s what that noise was.”
“Shuttup.”
“No, is everything okay though Will?”
Will stops for a moment and debates with himself for a moment. He absentmindedly fingers the rosary ring and tries to ignore Mack’s intense gaze.
“I love you.”
“I know. I love you too.”