Work Text:
There are lots of moments Dennis found himself falling in love with Mac. Moments where he’s thinking too much, chest becoming alarmingly tight with feelings of adoration for this person he’s known for 20 years. Moments where they’re standing there, or watching TV, or driving to the bar, and Dennis thinks, yes, this is the thing I’ve been looking for. Moments that are so brief, so quick, and Dennis remembers to repress them another second later.
They’re fleeting but they’re there.
//
Dennis’ birthday, 2008.
Mac buys him this really soft and really fitting blue-teal-whatever button up shirt and some CD’s Dennis had raving on about. It’s late, almost so late that Dennis’ birthday is pretty much over. But Mac pulls Dennis aside right before they go to bed, they’re sitting next to each other on the couch when Mac gives him this poorly wrapped gift.
Dennis’ fingers shake as he opens it because Mac is looking at him with this childlike wonder and excitement.
Eventually: “Do you like it?” He sounds like a damn kid, Dennis thinks as his heart leaps into his throat. It almost chokes him – he almost doesn’t get any words out.
“I-I love it. I really do.” He says softly. He coughs, trying to clear his throat and get his normal voice back but it won’t come. Everything just feels like a whisper as Mac beams at him across the couch.
“And bro, you always say you like wearin’ blue ‘cause it makes your eyes pop, or whatever, and I saw it and I just knew you’d love it.” Mac spills, obviously proud of his choice.
Dennis can’t help the smile creeping on his lips as he stares at Mac rambling away about the CD’s, too. He places a hand on Mac’s knee and rubs his thumb across the hard bone of his kneecap and it would almost be awkward if the sun was out, if time felt real.
Mac finishes his explanation of the gifts and glimpses quickly at the hand on his kneecap.
“Happy birthday, Den.” He murmurs.
Dennis nods curtly, pursing his lips together to stop himself from saying too many things that he would definitely regret in the morning. Repress, repress, repress.
And this is where it goes – that feeling, that moment, that idea of falling in love. Dennis feels it.
“Thanks.”
//
Christmas 2009.
2009 is nice. Getting to play pretend as real estate agents, going to court for the World Series defense, road tripping with the gang, with Mac next to Dennis in the front seats. 2009 treats the two right. Dennis honestly cannot remember when they traded their friendship zone for kissing and tugging at waistbands and late night movies with Dennis being the small spoon. He doesn’t remember when they crossed that line but he isn’t complaining.
The gang finishes their mess of a Christmas day. Mac and Dennis go back to their apartment like they usually do; they’re usually itching to get each other alone every single day lately. Tonight’s no exception, as they hastily leave the bar that night, too excited to be home, too excited to dive into each other like they do every night.
And Dennis won’t lie, it’s a giddy feeling in his god damn chest.
It’s cold for December in Philly, obviously. Dennis is immediately shivering as they get out of the Range Rover and enter the apartment complex. His can feel the sensation of his fingers losing feeling as they turn a pale blue.
Mac wastes no time immediately pressing Dennis into the wall the second the door shuts to their apartment.
Dennis could fucking melt at how the warmth of Mac’s body immediately radiates onto his own frail frame. He soaks it in, letting his hands grip Mac’s hair, pulling his body closer as Mac’s hands clutch his hips closer. Mac kisses Dennis until his lips are swollen, until they have to eventually break apart and Mac is left to simply stare at Dennis, pupils blown, breath ragged and strained.
“I am so in love with you.”
It’s the first time Mac ever says it. Dennis could freak out, he really could. He should freak out. But Mac is dipping his head back in and attaching their lips back together and Dennis sighs against his mouth in bliss as he wraps his arms around Mac’s neck for closeness.
He could freak out at all the things blowing up in his mind right now. He could say it back, he could retreat to his room and lock Mac out, he could move out, move to the other side of the country and leave Mac behind.
Being in love with Mac has that kind of effect on him.
He’ll say it back later, too, under the covers when sleep is moments away – when Dennis sure Mac will be too exhausted to remember in the morning. He’ll say it and bury his head in Mac’s t-shirt and that’s it. That’s the end of that.
//
Valentine’s Day 2017.
This is Mac’s heart, Dennis thinks, as he holds the RPG up like it’s fucking glass, like it’ll break if Dennis doesn’t hold it like it’s what he was born to do.
He can feel himself getting worked up, can feel the gang’s eyes glued to his overly emotional state. He can feel that dumb, loving, ridiculous stare Mac has on his face.
Dennis pulls himself together after, just until the gang leaves. When it’s Mac and Dennis left in the bar, Dennis can feel everything in his chest tighten as he and Mac immediately lock eyes the moment the bar door shuts and Dee exits for the night.
He can feel his cheeks getting hot again, can feel his eyes well up with something disgusting. He can’t help what comes next, can’t help how quickly, how pathetically he nearly jumps off his bar stool and is crossing the bar to where Mac is standing. Can’t help how he obnoxiously throws himself in Mac’s strong arms like they’re in a stupid movie or something. The way he wraps his arms around Mac’s neck, and the way he can feel Mac’s arms envelope tightly around his waist, squeezing lightly. He can’t help the way he’s murmuring gross things in Mac’s ear, you know, cheesy and far from platonic things, things you’d only say on Valentine’s Day.
“I can’t believe you actually got that for me, fuck.” He’s definitely crying, but he pretends he can’t tell. Pretends Mac can’t tell.
“I love it. I love you.” He whispers like it’s a secret. He hopes Mac didn’t hear. He prays maybe he got lucky and Mac tuned it out.
One of Mac’s hands raises from Dennis’ waist to his head and cards through his waves.
“I’m so fucking happy you liked it, Den. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much.” Mac sighs blissfully into Dennis’ neck, relief flooding inside him as he confesses all the things he'd been meaning to.
Dennis could stay like that, in that moment, for probably forever. Just stay in the feeling of Mac’s strong grip, and his body heat and cologne, and the way he’s stroking Dennis’ back and hair.
Falling in love has turned to being in love.
//
November 2018.
Things have been weird. Dennis has been in love with Mac since high school, but here they are, in their 40’s, back at what feels like square one. The awkwardness, the lack of touching and checking in, the curt goodnights and head nods and gestures.
Why does Dennis choose to sabotage the one, kind of good, kind of healthy thing in his life?
But Mac comes home one night, and the atmosphere is completely different. First of all, Mac’s completely damp, hair falling in his forehead, looking completely disheveled and ruined and depressed. He walks into the apartment, barely possessing enough energy to shut the door all the way. Dennis looks up from his phone, where he’s currently sprawled on their couch.
“Hey,” Dennis says softly. “Hey, what’s goin’ on?” He places his phone on the coffee table, slowly standing up from the couch.
Mac’s facial features tighten. He looks scared, looks 17 again, looks exhausted. Dennis fights all the gooey and sappy declarations of love creeping up his throat. He swallows them down.
“I just saw my dad in prison, is all.” Mac finally reveals, voice strained and hurt.
“Yeah? What happened, buddy?” Dennis inquires, taking a few steps toward Mac. Mac’s staring at nothing on the floor, fumbling with his own hands to keep busy.
“I came out to him actually.” He admits.
Dennis can see his own reflection, eyebrows contorted together in confusion, sympathy painting his face. He can feel himself going soft for Mac again.
“Are you okay?” Dennis hears himself ask. It’s like this isn’t happening. Because when was the last time he and Mac really talked, really discussed, really did anything at all besides pretend like nothing changed since Dennis left?
“I’m – No – I will be,” Mac struggles to keep himself composed. Dennis reaches an arm out. He’s scared. It lands against Mac’s forearm. Electricity strikes Dennis fingertips, or something else cliché like that.
Mac looks up. He’s got that kicked puppy look on his face. Dennis wants to lean in so bad, kiss it right off, but the world is no longer theirs. Mac is no longer Dennis’.
Mac thankfully reads his mind. He begins to lean in, ghosts his hands over Dennis’ hips before placing them gently, taking the final step towards Dennis so they’re foreheads are almost touching.
“Is this okay?” Mac asks. The absolute fear, worry, hesitation in his voice makes Dennis’ insides churn with something he’s never felt before.
“Yeah. Of course.” Dennis says quickly, nodding, and then again, “Yes.”
Mac leans in. Presses his lips against Dennis’ like it’s 2009 again. Dennis can feel nothing, hear nothing, can’t comprehend anything besides Mac’s lips firm on his own. Dennis’ hands roam Mac’s muscular arms. Mac’s t-shirt is still wet, Dennis notes, as Mac’s body presses against his.
“I’m sorry your dad is a dickhead.” Dennis mumbles against Mac’s mouth at some point.
Mac lets his head fall onto Dennis’ shoulder. He breathes in the scent of Dennis’ faded sweatshirt.
“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry for what I-“ he halts. Wonders if it’s worth confessing, wonders if he can finally let his heart out of his throat. Mac lifts his head up, hands still gripping Dennis’ waist.
“I’m sorry for what happened, and I’m sorry for y’know – treating you the way I have, and shit.” Dennis admits. He’s the one looking at the ground now, ignoring Mac’s lustful and loving stare.
It is one thing to be in love with Mac. It is another to be able to show it. Mac hugs Dennis tightly, pressing their bodies together so hard Dennis thinks they will become one.
Dennis thinks maybe they became one a long time ago, and he’s just figuring it out.