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The apartment was dark except for the irritating glow of Will’s insulin pump and the dim light from his phone screen. It was a little after 3am. They had gone to bed around eleven, happy and tired after a long day of optional skates, dinner with a few teammates, and then a night full of video games and cuddling. Will had fallen asleep quickly, tucked against Mack’s side like always. But peace hadn’t lasted.
His T:slim had been relentless.
High BG. 398 mg/dL.
3.3 units insulin on board.
Check ketones.
High BG. 403 mg/dL.
6.2 units insulin on board.
Check ketones.
Will groaned and shoved his face into the pillow, reaching down blindly to silence the latest alert. His mouth was dry. His head felt thick and fuzzy, like someone had packed cotton behind his eyes. He’d bolused extra at midnight and again at 1:30. Nothing was touching it. The high had been hovering above 390 for nearly four hours now, and he was over it.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The pump beeped again, soft but insistent. Will smacked the button harder than necessary.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispered. “Just go down already.”
He knew he should get up. Check ketones. Drink water. Change his site. But the thought of leaving the warm bed, turning on bright lights, and dealing with the whole production made him want to scream. He was exhausted. He was cranky. And worst of all, he felt stupid for not being able to fix it himself. He’d been managing his Type 1 diabetes since he was six years old. He was in the NHL, for fuck’s sake. He was supposed to have this shit on lock.
The pump went off again.
Will let out a frustrated sigh and silenced it. He glanced over at Mack, who was still sleeping peacefully on his stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other stretched toward Will. At least one of them was getting rest.
Another alert. Louder this time.
Mack stirred beside him.
“Will?” Mack’s voice was rough with sleep, deep and gravelly. He shifted closer, sliding an arm across Will’s stomach. “That’s been going off for hours, baby.”
“I know,” Will muttered. He sounded bratty even to his own ears. “It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
Mack was quiet for a moment, then pushed himself up onto one elbow. The soft light from the window caught on his messy hair and concerned face. “It’s not fine. You’ve been high since before we fell asleep.”
Will turned his head away, jaw tight. “I bolused twice. I’ve got, like, six units on board. It’ll come down eventually. I just want to sleep.”
The pump beeped again. Mack reached over without asking and silenced it himself, then sat up fully. The sheets pooled around his waist, revealing his bare chest. Even in the middle of the night, Mack looked steady. Strong. In control. It made something tight in Will’s chest loosen just a little, even though he wanted to stay annoyed.
“Come here,” Mack said quietly.
“I’m already here,” Will grumbled.
Mack didn’t push. Instead, he reached down and gently tugged Will toward him until Will was half-lying against his chest. Mack’s hand rubbed slow circles on his lower back, right above the waistband of his boxers.
“You’re overwhelmed,” Mack said simply. It wasn’t a question. “Let me take care of it.”
Will wanted to argue. He hated feeling like a burden, especially at 3am. But Mack’s hand felt warm and grounding, and the high was making him feel shaky and emotional. He pressed his face into Mack’s shoulder instead.
“It’s been hours,” Will admitted, voice muffled. “I hate this. I hate when it just… sits there.”
“I know.” Mack kissed the top of his head. “You’ve done everything right. Sometimes you just need a little extra help. Let me change your site.”
Will tensed. “You don’t have to. I can do it in the morning.”
Mack picks up Will's pump, reading Will's trend. "You’re not waiting until morning while 400,” Mack said firmly, but gently. “I'll do it now. You can stay in bed. You don’t even have to get up all the way.”
Will let out a long, dramatic sigh, but he didn’t fight when Mack reached over to the nightstand drawer where they kept Will’s supplies organized. Mack had started keeping everything close months ago, quietly making their shared space safer without making a big deal about it.
Mack moved efficiently but carefully. He turned on the small bedside lamp to its lowest setting, casting a warm, golden glow over them instead of harsh light. Then he shifted so he was kneeling between Will’s legs, gently spreading them so he could reach the old infusion site on Will’s lower abdomen.
“Lift your hips for me, baby,” Mack murmured.
Will obeyed, cheeks warm. Mack peeled off the old site, cleaned the area, and inserted the new one with quick, practiced movements. He taped it down securely and reconnected the tubing. The pump gave a satisfied beep.
Mack leaned down and kissed softly just above the fresh site. “All done.”
Will let out a shaky breath. Despite the frustration and exhaustion, he could feel himself getting half-hard from the casual touches and Mack’s steady presence between his legs. Mack noticed immediately and settled his weight more fully on top of him, pressing their bodies together.
“Should we check ketones?” Will asked quietly, voice small. “It’s been over 400 for hours…”
Mack nodded without hesitation, brushing Will’s hair back from his forehead. “Yeah baby, we should.”
He reached over to the drawer again and pulled out the ketone meter they kept there. Mack pricked Will’s finger with the lancet, collected the small drop of blood, and waited for the reading. All the while, he kept one hand on Will’s thigh, thumb stroking gently.
“0.3,” Mack read aloud. “Not too bad."
He prepped the new infusion set with practiced hands. Will felt the quick pinch as Mack inserted the cannula, but it barely registered. Mack taped everything down securely, then reconnected the tubing to Will’s T:slim. The pump gave a soft confirmation beep.
"Want me to bolus with the new site?" Mack asked, fingers already clicking through screens on the pump.
"Yeah, can you do, um, 2 units, maybe?" Will ran a hand over his face, "No, do 4, actually."
Mack smiled, "Wanna start with 3? You can take more if you're still high. I just don't want you going low."
“You’re good at this,” Will said softly, looking at Mack through tired eyes.
Mack smiled a little. “I’ve had a good teacher.”
A few clicks sounded through the room as Mack confirmed the new bolus of 3 units. “There we go,” Mack said, voice low and warm. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss right above the new site. “All done. No more fighting it.”
Will’s breath caught at the soft press of Mack’s lips. Despite being exhausted and frustrated from the high, warmth pooled low in his stomach. He was half-hard now, cock stirring against the fabric of his boxers. Mack noticed, of course. He always did.
“Really?” Mack teased lightly, settling his weight more fully between Will’s legs. “You’re running 400 and still getting worked up?”
“Shut up,” Will mumbled, cheeks flushing. "I can't help that it's hot when you take care of me."
He reached up and tugged at Mack’s shirt until the other boy shifted up and lowered himself down. Mack’s body covered his completely — warm, heavy, and grounding. Will’s legs parted further on instinct, letting Mack settle between them until their bodies pressed together from chest to hips.
Mack braced himself on his elbows so he wasn’t crushing Will, but kept them close. “Better?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Will admitted. He rolled his hips once, slow and lazy, feeling Mack’s cock start to thicken against his thigh. The friction was comforting more than urgent. “Stay here. Don’t move.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Mack promised. He dipped his head and kissed along Will’s jaw, then down to his neck, sucking lightly. One of his hands slipped under Will’s shirt, palm flat against his stomach, carefully avoiding the fresh site. “You’ve been dealing with this since you were six. You don’t have to do it alone at 3am anymore.”
Will’s eyes stung a little. The high always made him more emotional. “I just hate feeling broken.”
“You’re not broken,” Mack said firmly. He shifted his weight, pressing more deliberately against Will in a slow grind. Not enough to escalate, just enough to keep that warm, safe connection. “You’re strong as hell. But even strong guys get tired. That’s why I’m here.”
They stayed like that for a long time. Mack’s body was a heavy, comforting blanket over Will’s. Every so often he’d roll his hips in a lazy, soothing rhythm, keeping the tension soft and charged without pushing. Will’s hands wandered under Mack’s shirt, tracing the muscles of his back, holding on.
Mack kept checking Will’s Dexcom on his phone every fifteen minutes, showing him the numbers.
“Down to 355,” he said at one point, kissing Will’s temple. “See? It’s moving.”
Will hummed, nuzzling into Mack’s neck. “I have three units on board.”
Mack chuckled, the sound vibrating pleasantly against Will’s chest. “Yeah, yeah. I'm just glad I changed the site.”
Will smiled despite himself. The overwhelming frustration from earlier was slowly draining away, replaced by the steady safety of Mack’s care. He felt small in the best way. Not weak, but looked after.
“You’re too good at this,” Will whispered. “Makes me want to be annoying on purpose sometimes.”
Mack laughed quietly and nipped at his earlobe. “You already do that plenty, brat.” He shifted again, letting their hips press together more firmly for a moment. The slow grind sent a spark through both of them, but Mack kept it gentle. “But I like taking care of you. Even when you’re stubborn at 3am.”
They talked softly in the warm lamplight. Mack asked about how the high had started, listened patiently while Will vented about the stress of the season and how it sometimes messed with his numbers. He kept one hand stroking up and down Will’s side, occasionally pressing kisses to his hair, his forehead, his shoulder.
Around 4:15am, Mack checked again. “298. Nice drop.”
Will let out a long, relieved breath. The fuzzy feeling in his head was starting to clear. “Thank fuck.”
Mack smiled and pulled him closer, rolling them so Will was half-draped on top of his chest. Will tucked his face into Mack’s neck, legs tangled together. The sexual tension was still there, simmering in the slow press of their bodies and the occasional lazy roll of hips, but it was wrapped in so much fluff and care that it felt more like comfort than anything else.
“You should drink some water,” Mack murmured after a while.
“Five more minutes,” Will mumbled sleepily.
Mack didn’t argue. He just reached over to the nightstand, grabbed the water bottle he’d placed there earlier, and held it for Will while he took a few slow sips. Then he set it aside and wrapped both arms around Will again.
“Better?” Mack asked.
“Much better.” Will pressed a soft kiss to Mack’s collarbone. “Love you. Even when you boss me around at 3am.”
Mack’s arms tightened. “Love you more. Even when you’re a stubborn pain in the ass with a 400 blood sugar.”
Will smiled against his skin. The pump stayed quiet now, only lighting up the room softly with an occasional reading as his numbers continued to trend down. Mack kept rubbing his back in slow, soothing strokes, humming quietly under his breath.
They stayed like that until nearly 5am, talking in low voices, exchanging lazy kisses, letting their bodies press together in that warm way that never quite crossed into more. Mack refused to let Will feel alone for even a second.
When Will’s Dexcom finally showed 210 and falling, Mack kissed the top of his head.
“See? All good now. Get some sleep, baby.”
Will hummed contentedly, already drifting off in Mack’s arms. The high was finally breaking. The frustration was gone. All that was left was the steady beat of Mack’s heart under his ear and the safe, warm feeling of being completely taken care of.
Mack stayed awake a little longer, watching the numbers drop and making sure Will was comfortable. His hand never stopped its gentle stroking along Will’s back.
In the quiet of the early morning, with his boyfriend safe and sleeping against him, Mack smiled to himself. This was exactly where he wanted to be.