#Mathew Marzal fic

[matwith1t]

A/N: We’ve got the works here… Thank you to the anon for the request! I can’t find it, otherwise I would link, but here we are!! If you’re not 18+, please head over to my masterlist and read something a bit more fluffy!! I’d love to hear all of your thoughts… words of affirmation is my love language 🔥 I hope wherever you find yourself in the world, that you’re having a good day/evening!!

Request: When you start to want more than your friends-with-benefits arrangement with Mat, he rejects your suggestion. But after a few months apart, and after you found someone else, Mat rethinks his feelings for you // Ex-FWB With a Fluff Ending 

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut  // WC: 10K // Angst & Smut & Fluff

The two of you are not in love. At least not really.

He soothingly stroked your arm when you laid in bed together after a shared intimate moment. You threaded your fingers through his hair whenever he leaned his head on your shoulder. He calls you every Tuesday night because he knows that’s your busiest day of the week, and hearing his voice relaxes you. And you wear his last name on a hockey jersey because you know how much it excites him.

You keep his favorite snacks at your place. He keeps your favorite candle on his coffee table. You watch every hockey game. He respects your schedule. His laugh is your favorite sound. And your eyes are his favorite color.

But the two of you are not in love. At least…not really.

Sitting up against the headboard of your bed, you clutched the white linen sheets––that smelled like him––to your chest as you watched Mat tug his jeans over his legs. He bent down to grab his shirt that was thrown on the floor and easily slipped it over his head; as you savored the last seconds of seeing his bare chest.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the bedroom floor to make sure he had everything. But even if he forgot something, you knew––just as well as he did––that he would be back.

Mat’s chuckle brought you out of your thoughts, “Don’t give me that look.”

The light-hearted chuckle you let out was exactly the opposite of how you felt on the inside as you watched him get ready to leave you. A sharp pang of heartache ripped through your chest as you rolled your eyes, “I’m just waiting until I have the place to myself.”

Mat paused his movements of fixing the chains around his neck to fit under his shirt to look up at you. The corners of his lips curved up in a smirk, “Excited to be alone?”

“It’ll be quiet.”

He let out a quiet hmpf as he took two steps forward to the foot of your bed where his shoes were. He bent down, out of sight, as he tied the laces together before popping up in a matter of seconds. With the way he looked around your room again; it was easy to convince yourself that maybe he was purposefully stalling. Maybe he wanted to stay with you just as much you wanted him.

You watched his movements carefully as he rounded your bed; thinking he was heading toward the door, you felt the tug of your heart follow him. But he stopped to stand next to you, head tilted as he looked down at you.

You pressed yourself further back against the headboard and held your breath.

He bent down, palms pressed flat on either side of you––trapping you under him like he had done just moments ago––and he leaned his face close to yours, “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes locked in on his, “Staying in bed all day.”

Mat raised his eyebrows as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours, “Alone?”

You gulped, “Alone.”

He let out another hmpf as he continued to stare at you. In such close proximity, you were able to see everything about him. You saw the little blemishes that dotted along his chin, dark creases under his eyes, and how there was a section of hair on his left eyebrow that stuck up, going the opposite direction of the shape. They were little imperfections, but they made your heart tighten in your chest when you thought about how you were the only person who was able to see him this close up.

At your answer, he smirked, “Think of me.”

Before you had any time to process as to why he said those words to you, he closed the barely there space between your faces, and met your lips in a slow, deep kiss. Your eyes closed. The familiar zip of ecstasy pumped through your veins whenever he kissed you, but right when your hand dropped the sheet that was covering up your chest to cup his cheek; Mat pulled away.

In one swift motion, he spun around on his heel as he left you to walk through the door.

Stunned at his abruptness of ending the kiss, you continued to stare at the door with your mouth hung open. And even after you heard the front door of your apartment close, signaling his final departure, you continued to stare at your bedroom door.

He was everything you’ve ever wanted. He was everything and more. And you couldn’t comprehend how effortlessly he acted whenever he walked away from you. Because whenever you left him, it was a struggle. It always either felt like a battle in your head on whether you overstayed your time at his place or if he wanted you to lay next to him as he curled an arm tightly around your waist.

With each time you gave in to staying between the sheets longer with him, you felt a piece of your heart break even more. Because it only prolonged the eventual ending of moments you savored with him before one of you left.

Mat didn’t know that you did have plans for after he left. You needed to water the plants, grocery shop, meet a friend for lunch, and do a few loads of laundry to start the week off. But like him, most of those plans quickly went out the door.

Because with the way he left you––The way he always left you––you wanted more of him. So with your plans easily abandoned, you sunk down further under the sheets, head tilted back on the pillow with your eyes closed.

And as you laid in bed alone, just like he asked, you thought of him.

–––

You were woken up by a kiss on your neck.

The faint sound of a film on the television could be heard in the background, the smell of burnt bread––presumably from a failed attempt at Mat making toast––wafted through his apartment, and you felt a layer warmer than any blanket on top of you. You laid on your back, eyes peeking open to adjust to the light, and stared down at the person draped on top of you.

With a faint smile, you lifted a hand and fiddled with the ends of Mat’s hair on the back of his neck. You felt his chest expand against yours with an intake of air, and with eyes just like yours, barely open, he smiled up at you.

“We fell asleep.”

You let out a soft laugh and continued to play with the ends of his hair, “And then you woke me up.”

Mat rolled his eyes as he slightly lifted himself up from you, palms pressed down on the couch next to your head, “I woke up not even five minutes ago.”

Not believing him, you let out a hum, “Mhm,” and continued to let your fingertips softly touch his skin.

Because with the smell of burnt toast, you knew he had woken up more than five minutes ago, yet he still came back to wrap his arms around you on the couch.

You slowly moved your fingertips on the back of his neck in slow circles, and when you saw him close his eyes, you knew you were doing something right. And at a slow pace that was tortuous for you touching him, your fingers moved to the side of his throat, up his cheek as you traced the bridge of his nose, and then through his hair. You combed your fingers through the front of his hair, but like every time, his hair flopped back onto his forehead in place.

He opened his eyes and you smiled.

With your hand running slowly through his hair, your eyes admired his face as he loomed over you. And like your slow movements, he slowly lowered his head to press a soft kiss on the base of your throat. You barely felt his lips brush against your skin with how delicate the touch felt. He pulled his lips away, but kept his head tucked into the crook of your neck. You shuddered slightly as you took a deep breath; preparing yourself for disappointment to flood your body by the end of your stay.

But you pushed that familiar feeling aside.

Swallowing thickly, you let the hand that ran through his hair drop down to his shoulder as you pulled him closer to you. Chests pressed together, you felt as if you were to explode any moment. Hot hair fanned your neck as Mat breathed heavily against your skin, not pressing his lips onto you any further until he had your permission.

Unable to wait any longer, you tugged on the ends of his hair, turned your head to expose more of your neck, and shallowly breathed out your agreed upon word for consent.

“Please.”

That word was all Mat needed to hear before he pressed his lips back on the same spot of your neck. But this time you felt him; felt his lips nip at your skin repeatedly. And when he sucked on your skin just a little too hard, a whimper escaped your lips.

The sound was encouraging enough for him, but you still slid an arm around his neck to pull him closer. With legs intertwined on, you bent your knee against the back of the couch, resting your sole on the back of his calf.

Mat slowly worked his lips up your throat, “Are you cold?”

His whisper was louder than the uncleanly thoughts swirling in your head.

“No,” you gasped out with eyes closed.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, goosebumps forming everywhere on your body, as the places where he deposited open mouthed kisses on your skin scorched like a wildfire. And like how you previously touched his face ever so slowly, he trailed his hands along your sides at an even agonizingly slower pace.

His hands wandered, fingertips eliciting a slight shudder from you every single time they dug a little deeper into your skin.

“You’re shivering,” Mat mumbled before closing his lips just underneath your jaw.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt and he rested his palm flat on your hip. You thought best to leave his observation unanswered as the mixed feeling of his hands and lips on your skin produced another moan. Both of you were silent from then on; Mat kneading the skin on your hip as his light stubble scratched your neck as he continued his trail of kisses.

Mat had one hand trailing up and down your thigh, as his other creeped further up your shirt, massaging your breast over your bra. He pressed his lips to the spot where your jaw met under your ear, slowly working his way across your jawline.

“Mat,” you pleaded, voice hoarse.

He placed a feather of a kiss at the corner of your mouth. And when you slightly turned your head, eyes finally open, you saw him already staring at you. But you didn’t have enough time to admire his face as you’d like. Sooner than anticipated, you two met in a kiss, his lips instantly parting yours and his tongue begging for an entrance.

The eagerness of his kisses contrasted his slow and gentle touches on your skin. It threw you off for a moment, but Mat made a low, almost inaudible, sound in the back of his throat. His tongue met yours at the same time his hand squeezed your breast and you let your fingers dance across his back.

As your body heated up, so did the movements between the two of you.

The two of you parted for a moment to discard your shirts, Mat staring down at you intently. He looked troubled, eyebrows pulled together in concentration as his shoulders expanded in a deep breath. As you tried to catch your breath, you tilted your head to the side with a shy smile and tucked a section of his hair behind his ear.

Mat contradicted your gentle movement.

He brought a hand to his mouth, sliding his index finger and middle finger between his lips. Below him, you watched in fascination, both excited and terrified at the amount of disappointment already brewing in the pit of your stomach.

Mat brought his fingers out of his mouth, and in an act of arrogance, he raised his eyebrows and smirked. But before you could lean up and trap him in a kiss, his hand crept under the material of your underwear, wet fingers gliding over you, between your slit. On instinct, your eyes closed and your head fell back onto the pillow.

His fingers were languid at first, slow and steady as they became acquainted with the sensitive area. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and sucked in a deep breath. His movements were excruciatingly slow. Every time the pads of his fingers brushed your clit, your breath shortened, catching in your throat.

You gripped onto his shoulder for support, your hand moving to the back of his neck, urging him toward you. You held Mat close for a kiss and he instantly deepened it. He made the concentrated grunt in the back of his throat again as you felt his bulge against your thigh. The hand he had on your breast trailed down your chest, across your rib cage until he could hook an arm around your waist.

His arm tightened around you as he urged your thighs even further apart with his knee. His middle finger began to move in circles over your clit, gentle at first, then increasing in pressure. You sighed, grabbing onto his shoulder even tighter. When his speed increased, you couldn't fight the moan that escaped your lips, and you broke the kiss to bury your head in the crook of his neck.

His fingers worked harder. And you felt an euphoric sensation that sat low in your gut as it began to build and build until it overpowered disappointment. A feeling that enraptured you––A feeling you only wanted to share with Mat––spread to the tips of your toes.

You bucked your hips against Mat’s hand, letting out an uneven breath against his shoulder. He kept going, encouraging you to let it happen. And so you did. You allowed yourself to be consumed with the feeling of Mat.

Beneath him was the closest place you had found to a heaven on earth.

But when his movements slowed and his hand came out from your underwear, your high came crashing down. As if the previous experience of pleasure hadn’t just happened, you felt numb. The spark of euphoria you felt electorate your body was no more, and instead, you welcomed back disappointment.

This was your routine with him. The passive day spent at his place when neither of you had any other commitments started and ended the same way every time. Every time it started with excitement, curious as to what the day had in store. And then the excitement sparked into mutual desire for one another. And then, like every time, it ended with disillusionment.

“Stop,” you whispered.

Immediately, Mat removed his hands from you and sat up on the couch.  

He sat on the other cushion from you, chest slightly heaving as he stared down at you in concern, “Are you okay?”

Still reeling in how your emotions went from one hundred to zero in a matter of seconds, you shook your head.

“You need to talk to me,” he looked panicked, and it bruised your heart even more, “Please.”

The breath you took in was audible, cutting through the tension, as you leaned over and picked up your shirt. Hastily, you covered yourself up and tucked yourself into the corner of the couch. With your knees bent, and arms curled around your legs, you stared at Mat who hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

At the sound of your voice, he looked calmer, but that didn’t do away with the anxiety in his eyes, “Do what?”

“This…Do what we’re doing,” you pinched the bridge of your nose as you saw the puzzle pieces of your words connecting in his mind, “Being whatever we are.” You felt your bottom lip tremble as the exhaustion from all of your rendezvouses with Mat caught up to you, “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Why?”

You could see it in his eyes that he knew why you were cutting off the arrangement. He was more intune with other people’s emotions than he led on, which made this confrontation even more gut wrenching. Because with your admission would come his answer.

He had seen you at your most vulnerable moments, comforted you in times of need, been the reason for your earth shattering blisses for a little over a year, and the two of you shared intimate moments together without either of you stripping off your clothes. And like how he knew what you were about to confide in him, you knew what his answer would be.

You never thought he would be this cruel and have you say what you wanted aloud.

“I want more than this,” your words were direct with your desire, but the undertone in your voice was unsteady, “The––The feeling I have with you can’t be compared to anyone else. I feel so happy with you and it––You make me feel like a better person.” You bit the inside of your cheek as he stared through you, “Can’t we be more than this?”

He blinked once. Looked down into his lap. Blinked again. Ran a hand through his hair. Blinked for a third time. And when he looked up at you, his eyes were still lifeless and dull.

“You know I can’t give you that.”

You knew what disappointment felt like. You felt it every time he kicked the covers off and got dressed to leave you. You felt it every time one of his friends made a passing comment after they won a hockey game about how Mat could paint the town red as you sat next to him. You had even felt it fifteen minutes ago, when Mat had you trembling underneath him.

Disappointment was synonymous with Mat. But that didn’t make the let down any easier.

You let out a shaky breath, tears stinging behind your eyes that threatened to fall at any moment. But he had seen too much of you that afternoon for you to dispense any more emotion in front of him.

With your eyes downcast on your twiddling thumbs in your lap, you let out an almost inaudible half whisper, “Why?”

Mat released the breath he was holding, and scanned your face that felt like it would crumble any moment, “I…” He ran a head through his hair, letting out a shaky breath, as he racked his mind for an excuse, “You know I can’t. There’s––I’m not around that often, I wouldn’t be able to––”

“But we spend time together,” you croaked out, “We spend so much time together.”

With Mat’s failed excuse, he was silent.

And as the two of you stared at each other in silence; Mat’s eyes emotionless and your vision blurred with tears…There was no battle in your head wondering if you’d overstayed your visit or Mat wanted you next to him.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, but you wiped it away fast with the palm of your hand. You sniffled back the rest of your tears, lungs burning as they barely expanded with your deep breath. His eyes followed your figure as you stood up from the couch, and the more you stared at him, the more you felt your heart slowly fall apart because there was no convincing yourself of anything with him anymore.

The silence hung thick in the air like the regret on both of your faces as you made your way to his door. The further you walked away from him, the further you could feel the strings of your heart that connected to him stretch. They were exceeding their limit, and with one foot out the door, you felt the harsh snap that finally disconnected your heart from Mat when he spoke up.

“Are we done?”

His voice carried softly over the silence, but it was the sharpest pain you felt.

With a jagged breath, you gave him an answer without turning around, “I want someone. Someone who can give me more than this.” And with your back to him, you let your tears silently fall as they pleased, but kept your voice just as soft as his, “And I wish it was you.”

Without waiting for a response you knew he wasn’t going to give, you left him the way he always left you; alone.

–––

You missed him.

You missed the way he made you feel.

You missed the way his head felt on your shoulder when you rode the subway together. You missed the way his voice reassured you after a long Tuesday. You missed the way your heart fluttered whenever you heard him laugh. But most of all, you missed the way he always encouraged you to be the best version of yourself.

You missed him.

So you called him.

Your call came at one in the afternoon on Sunday, two months since the last time you had spoken to each other, and he picked up. You didn’t say a hello. And you didn’t ask how he was. You only said that you wanted him to come over.

“I thought you said you wanted someone?” Mat’s voice ached through the phone as if he replayed the last moment he saw you in the doorway, “I thought you wanted something more.”

“I just want you,” you breathed out in response to him, “Please.”

And before you had any chance to retract your request from him, he rushed out that he was on his way over and hung up.

Pacing around in the kitchen, you tried not to think of the consequences that would follow this meetup. It had been so long since you had seen Mat, but the only thing you wanted was familiarity. And your intentions over the phone were as clear as Mat’s rejection of you two months ago.

A few hurried knocks on your door interrupted the concern floating in your head. With a deep breath, and a little anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach, you walked over to the door and opened it. The first thing you did was push away the feeling of disappointment in your gut and admired his face.

Unlike the slight stubble he had the last time you saw him, his face was clean shaved. He looked more youthful, but his eyes were tired and filled with longing. They were missing their usual gleam, but the longer his eyes stayed on you, you began to see the familiarity in them. And he was dressed rather nicely––a button up shirt, dress pants, and a belt––as if he had just came from an important brunch.

Whenever either of you showed up at the other’s place, both of you knew what the purpose of the visit was. But before hands wandered and eyes closed…You would always talk through a film together, travel on the subway for take out and a bottle of wine, or run menial errands together because Mat was always too lazy to do them himself. But with how you left him two months ago––confessing to wanting something more and he only wanting something physical––Neither of you knew how to approach the situation.

With a deep breath, you stepped back to let him into your apartment and closed the door. You made the call, so you made the first move.

You kept your eyes on your feet as you slowly took a step toward him. When the tips of your toes touched his shoes, you finally looked up at him. The two of you were so close together, but you had never felt further away from him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He whispered like a secret as if the two of you weren’t the only ones in your apartment.

You nodded your head, “Yes,” you gulped when you felt the tips of his fingers graze your palm, “One last time.” And when you finally looked into his eyes, they were dark with lust and despair, “Please.”

And with that word, Mat didn’t waste any time before he grabbed your hips, bringing you toward him in one swift tug, and crashed his lips onto yours. There wasn’t anything gentle about it––he knew what he wanted. But perhaps there were some unresolved feelings he hadn’t uncovered from your last conversation as his fingers softened against your skin.

Not expecting for Mat to be so determined with the first kiss, you let out a squeak of surprise. But he deepened the kiss and you melted into him with ease, molding your body around his as your arms locked around his neck. His tongue clashed with yours, hands gliding up your back until he was able to cup the back of your neck.

“Are you sure,” he murmured against your lips as both of you paused for a breath. He walked you backwards until you pressed up against the opposite wall, not too far from your bedroom, “That this will be the last time?”

You nodded fervently, sticking with your head as your heart fought to overpower your logic. He kissed you again as a strangled sigh escaped your lips, “Last time,” you whispered. Your eyes lowered away from his skeptical stare as you fiddled with the ends of his shirt.

Mat tilted your chin up with his index finger, trapping your lips as if he was trying to convince you that he didn’t want this to be the last time. He wrapped his right arm around your back and squeezed your right hip. He kissed you hard, eager to prove how much he wanted you.

Like every time he kissed you, you were left out of breath. And when you felt well and truly breathless, Mat trailed his lips across your cheek to your jaw, down your neck, and up to your ear, where he whispered words that caused your eyes to fly open.

“If it’s the last time, then let’s make sure you remember it.”

His words paired with his lips nipping on your neck, made you unable to form a coherent sentence. And you were sure he was able to feel the gulp you swallowed as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access.

Once his lips trailed up your neck, he was quick to collide his lips with yours, his body pressing flush against you as his hands trailed up and down your sides. You whimpered into his mouth, submitting all control to him.

“Bedroom,” you breathed against his lips.

At your request, Mat pressed two more kisses to your lips before he connected his hand with your to pull you into your room. He slammed the door closed, as if he wanted to keep the whole world out from prying on the way he would inevitably make you feel.

In a flurry, Mat unclasped his watch from his wrist and kicked off his shoes while you took off your socks. Neither one of your clothes were fully removed before he grabbed onto you again. You didn’t want to think how this would be the last time you were pressed up against him, and it seemed like he was eager to keep you from doing the same.

Mat had you against the wall, his hands massaging your breasts through your dress as you messed up his hair even more with your fingers. You whimpered into his mouth, which spurred him on, and he ground his hips roughly into yours, sending the familiar electric jolt of electricity through your bones to the tips of your toes.

He repeated the process while grazing his hands down your sides and grabbing a handful of your dress, tugging it up. But if this was going to be your last time together, you wanted him to remember it too. You were busy popping the buttons on his collared shirt, and unlatching his belt. The way you successfully undid his pants without looking, while nibbling on his lower lip, was a testament that you were sticking true to your word.

Mat thought you were done, so he moved his hands back up to your breasts, but you knocked his hands out of the way, gliding one hand down his exposed chest before boldly plunging your hand into his pants. Mat moaned against your lips, forcing your head to tilt back so that he could kiss you even harder.

Gently squeezing him outside his boxer-briefs, you noted that he was already growing in your hand. But you knew him well enough to know that he wanted to move things faster. So you slid your hand past the elastic waistband of his underwear and grabbed hold of him.

Mat broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, “Fuck,” he swore under his breath.

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips in concentration, and focused your eyes on Mat’s face as you gently grabbed him at the base. Instantly, his breathing shallowed. You trailed your thumb along his length to gauge his reaction before slowly sliding your hand up and then back down.

After a few swipes, Mat placed one hand beside your head, palm flat against the wall to support himself. In his other hand, he held a gathered handful of your dress, fingers digging into you hip to hold you steady. Feeling him respond underneath to your touch, you increased your pace. Mat’s eyes closed instinctively, gulping through parted lips as his breathing came in sharp uneven puffs.

“That good?” You asked, brushing your lips against his earlobe.

Mat grunted before responding, “Yeah.” His voice was thick and guttural, and you loved the way it reverberated in your ear, as if it was only meant for you, “Yeah––That’s good. More.”

His head dropped to your shoulder as you continued to pump him at a steady pace, and you marveled at the fact that he was completely at your mercy. But Mat wasn’t at your mercy for much longer. He managed to find the strength to pause his breathy curses to whisper in your ear, “I don’t know how much longer I can wait before I take you.”

You turned your head to meet his lips for a prolonged kiss. As soon as your hand was out of his underwear, and his pants were pooled around his feet, Mat spun you around to face the wall, as you heard the sound of your dress unzip all the way down. His fingers were anything but unhurried, but you still felt as if Mat was taking his time unzipping your dress as you felt his knuckles graze against your the ridges of your spine.

When he was successful in unzipping the dress, he slipped it off you in one fluid motion. But before you could turn around, his chest was flat against your back as his hand snaked around your hips and dipped into your underwear, discovering that you were just as ready for him as he was for you.

“God,” Mat moaned, dragging his lips along your shoulder to your neck as he slid a finger inside of you.

You tilted your head to give him more access, and the combination of your skin between his teeth and his finger curled inside you while his thumb stimulated your clit was too overwhelming. And as you felt yourself slightly shudder from the familiar sense of pleasure Mat gave you, he slid your underwear off your hips. He removed himself from your back as you stepped out of your underwear and Mat picked his jeans up from the floor and dug around the pocket for his wallet.

Frantically, he opened it in, and when he found the condom he looked for, he let everything drop to the floor.

He pulled you forward, hungrily kissing you before gripping the backs of your thighs, “Bed.”

With your arms around his neck, all you did was nod in agreement as you felt his hardness between you. He let his hands trail up from your thighs to your hips as he guided you to the few feet of room that separated the two of you from your bed. Once you felt the mattress hit the back of your calves, you unhooked one arm from Mat’s neck to brace yourself for the fall.

But Mat was faster. He hooked one of his strong arms around your waist to pull you ever so close to his chest as he slowly let you down on the mattress. And as you inched your way backwards, his hurried kisses slowed down the tiniest bit as if he wanted to prolong you beneath him for as long as possible. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, you underneath him as Mat cupped your cheek, savoring every kiss like it was his last.

But both of you unable to hold off on the reason why you called him over in the first place, the hand that cupped your cheek dropped and you heard the sound of the condom packaging tearing. With a breath, you opened your eyes right as he finished rolling on the condom.

“Ready?” he said huskily with his forehead pressed against yours.

You nodded, breath ragged as you felt him against your thigh, “Yes.”

With that, he guided himself inside of you, crawling up your torso as he pushed in inch by inch. Like every time you found yourself in this position, your eyes instinctively closed, your jaw dropped at the sensation of feeling this close with him, and you released a satisfied sigh.

You felt Mat’s breath on your cheek as he grabbed your hip with one hand, steadying you before pulling out almost all the way. You gasped at the loss of contact, but your breath was stolen when he slammed back in.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, throwing your head back when he pulled out and then connected your hips again.

The third, fourth, and fifth time…you conceded to him and let him do what he pleased. Entirely out of breath, you simply let your mouth hang open as you waited for him to press into you again.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Mat said with his eyebrows raised in amusement, as his next thrust penetrated you a bit more gentle, “And I’ll stop.”

Unable to speak as he continued to thrust into you, you shook your head. You tucked a piece of hair behind his ear as your hand dropped to his strong back, “This is––This is good,” you gasped out as you felt him deeper inside of you, “You’re doing amazing.”

At your praise, the amusement in his eyes vanished as he let out deep breath through his nostrils.

He adopted a steady rhythm, neither too fast or slow, but with the force he thrusted into you at, it had you quickly feeling like you were going over the edge. You dug your nails into his back, and when he spread your legs even wider, the sensation he made you feel became even more intense. You bit the inside of your cheek, but the moans came anyway, begging him for more.

“That’s it,” Mat said through broken breaths, not even flinching when your nails scraped his shoulder blades, “Are you close?”

Whimpering, you nodded enthusiastically.

Satisfied, Mat grasped your hips and practically lifted them off the bed for each thrust. Barely able to see straight, and feeling entirely out of control, there was a flame burning in your lower gut, shooting out tingles that zipped up every vein of your body. And there was absolutely nothing you could do to hold onto the feeling of how he felt buried inside of you.

Mat knew you reached your peak when you could no longer assist in the thrusting and was left disorientated with slow breaths. Mat sped up his pace, driving himself into a state of bliss shortly after and collapsed on top of you.

After a minute or two of Mat trying to catch his breath from on top of you, he raised his head, relieving some of the weight on top of you. He didn’t say anything, just looked down at you with gentle eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek.

You shut your eyes tight, revelling in the euphoria that lingered in your body for the last time with Mat.

With your eyes still shut tight, you felt Mat shift around. You could feel your throat close up as you expected the inevitable to happen, but when you felt the warmth of your duvet that had fallen off the bed cover you––and felt a strong arm wrap tight around your waist––you let out a sigh of relief.

Your back was pressed against his chest as you felt him also let out a sigh of relief, as if he expected you to ask him to leave.

He soothingly stroked your arm and pressed a featherlight kiss to your shoulder as the two of you laid in silence.

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open, fighting the drowsiness taking over your body for as long as you could. Because once your breathing evened out, and your eyes closed, you knew he would be gone. So, you savored the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms one last time. And you savored the silence that allowed yourself to slip into a dream of what it would really feel like if he reciprocated your feelings.

You found solace in the silence surrounding him.

–––

You met someone else.

In the four months it had been since you had last been with Mat, you had met someone else.

He was nice; someone who was prepared for commitment. But he didn’t like to ride the subway, and he didn’t like to lean his head on your shoulder. He never called you on a Tuesday night. His laugh caused you to smile, but it wasn’t an ear-to-ear smile. And he liked to watch movies in silence.

You met someone else.

But you still found yourself comparing him to Mat.

Whenever those thoughts creeped into your mind, you tried your best to push them out. The only way Mat was in your life anymore was if you tuned into an Islanders game. But the boy you met didn’t like to watch hockey that much, so it was rare you caught a game.

Not watching an Islanders game wasn’t the end of the world, after all, you did run in the same social circle, so you saw him occasionally. But your sentences were always kept short…That was if either of you approached the other, which was more rare than you watching him on the television. But you had never seen Mat when you were with Noah, the new boy you had started seeing after you ended your friends with benefits with Mat.

But there was a first time for everything.

You were at a friend’s house, a mutual friend between you and Mat, so you shouldn’t have frozen up when you saw him walk through the door. In the kitchen, you stood with Noah, who had an arm draped over your shoulder, and some friends. You tried your hardest to contribute to the conversation, but like always, Mat distracted you without trying.

From the way his hair was messily styled, but looked put together at the same time, to the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled…You couldn’t help but admire him. He was in the middle of laughing, and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward, but then his eye caught yours and his laughter died down. Sad that you couldn’t hear your favorite sound anymore, you saw his eyes narrow in on the arm around your shoulder.

“Everything alright?” Noah whispered in your ear.

You broke eye contact with Mat just as you saw the faintest bit of pain in his eyes.

Tilting your head up toward Noah, you smiled tightly and lied, “Never better.”

He chuckled, pressed a kiss to your temple and went back to conversing with your friends. Immediately, your eyes went back to where you last saw Mat, but he wasn’t there. You scanned the crowd frantically, afraid you lost your chance to hear his laugh again, but when one of your friends called him over to join your circle, you lost your breath.

Mat stood across from you, jaw slightly clenched and his knuckles that held a beer bottle were a few shades lighter than his skin tone. He greeted everyone he knew, but when it came to you, he barely offered you a smile before turning his attention to Noah.

“I don’t think I know you.”

Your jaw dropped at Mat’s bluntness, and a few of your friends snickered. Being friends with benefits with Mat wasn’t a secret from your friends, but the two of you never really talked about it around them, and none of them knew why things ended.

“I’m Noah,” he introduced himself, an easy smile on his face because you had never breathed a word about Mat to him, “Nice to meet you. And you are?”

“Mat,” he said his own name with a sharp undertone, and his eyes glanced back down at Noah’s hand around softly tracing his nails up and down your shoulder. His eyes softened for a split second, before he heavily breathed through his nostrils, raising his eyebrows at Noah, “And the two of you are…”

“Mat,” you snapped at him with a glare before Noah could answer the question.

You had been seeing Noah for a little under two months, and your relationship didn’t have a title on it. Which you were fine with since the two of you agreed to take things slow, and Noah reassured you he was committed to you. Because at least with Noah, he expressed that he wanted a relationship with you. Mat never gave that to you.

Mat shrugged his shoulders, knowing full well what his intentions were. He smirked slightly before raising the glass bottle to his lips; and he dropped the question as he engaged in conversation with your friends.

Throughout the night, you kept catching Mat’s glare on Noah, but when he looked at you, there was a fondness that you’d never seen in the time you spent with him. He always had gentle eyes, always knew how to draw you in with one look, but there was a sense of regret swirling about whenever he looked at you.

You had moved into the dining room, standing in the corner of the room with Noah, as you felt like a schoolgirl with a crush as he held your hand and told you how pretty you looked. He squeezed your hand, and just as he tilted his head to lean forward in a kiss, he pulled back, straightened his posture, and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him as his eyes scrunched together in confusion as he looked down at the ground.

“I think a ping pong ball hit me?”

Your eyes dropped to the ground with his, and right behind his heel, you saw an orange ping pong ball. Immediately, you picked your head up and stared over his shoulder to see Mat with his vision locked on you in the corner. Your jaw clenched as tight as his, because you had been his beer pong partner more than enough times to know how competitive he became, and how he never wasted a shot.

You glared at him the same time he softened his gaze.

Bending down, Noah picked up the ping pong ball and returned it back to Mat’s team. He didn’t know that Mat had intentionally ruined a moment between the two of you. You stood in the corner with Noah for a few minutes longer until you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Once you finished up in the bathroom, you were fully prepared to go back out with Noah. But when you opened the bathroom door, and saw an anxious looking Mat, you knew he would sabotage your night once more. Before you could say anything, he made his way into the bathroom, and locked the door.

“Mat, what are you doing––”

“Just hear me out,” he rushed out as he ran a hand through his hair, “Please.”

If that last word didn’t hold so much meaning to your relationship with Mat, you would’ve pushed past him and left him alone after the stunts he pulled earlier. But with his eyebrows pulled together, tormented eyes wide with anxiety, the least you could do was honor his request.

So with a deep breath, you crossed your arms over your chest and nodded your head.

Mat cleared his throat and tucked a piece of his hair behind his right ear, and then tucked a piece of hair behind his left ear, “I––How was your Tuesday?”

His small talk threw you off, but you played along, “It was fine.” With a single breathy laugh, Mat raised his eyebrows at your answer, and waited in silence until he got a truthful answer. With a roll of your eyes, you huffed, “It sucked. Like always.”

“Do you talk to Noah about your Tuesday’s?”

“I don’t think we should talk about this,” you dropped eye contact with him and reached out for the door. But Mat blocked your exit. You tried stepping around him, but he mirrored your movement. With a sigh, you dropped your shoulders, “What do you want, Mat?”

With your question, his face grew serious and he took a step toward you.

“What do I want…” He hummed and took another step toward you. Ever so slowly, like the last time you met at your apartment, he reached the tips of his fingers out to touch the inside of your palms, “I want to eat my favorite snacks on your couch, lay in bed together, see you wear my jersey again…” He wiggled his eyebrows at his last desire, but before you could shove his shoulder at his show of arrogance, he quickly reached down to lace his fingers with yours.

“I want to hear about your Tuesday’s,” his voice shrank, but when he looked into your eyes, he offered you the smallest of relaxed smiles, “I miss the color of your eyes.”

At a time and place in the past, this was exactly what you wanted to hear. It was everything and more you wanted to hear, but it had come months too late.

The moment you dropped his hand was the same time the smile on his face dropped.

“I’m with Noah now,” you took a step back, “I––I’m with someone else now.”

Mat rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm and when he removed his hands, you saw a harsh pain in them that could only be classified as regret that he caused himself, “Please,” he pleaded with you and took a step forward to catch your hands again. But you stepped back, “Seeing you with him tonight it––Or even when we were together months ago, just imagining you with someone else––”

“That’s not fair,” you felt a painful sting behind your eyes, “I told you I wanted more, but you said no.” He was silent and you sniffled, “You can’t say this now.”

“I miss you,” he gulped, and again, he stepped forward and reached out for you, “I’ve never missed anyone as much as I miss you––”

You shook your head, clamping your lips together trying to block out all of the words you wanted him to say to you months ago, “Mat, stop––”

But like you didn’t want to hear his confession of feelings, he didn’t want to hear that he was too late, “It’s just…Fuck,” he swore under his breath, and shook his head as he looked down at the ground, having trouble stringing the right words together. But when he looked up at you, you could clearly see the inner-turmoil he had gone through over the past months, “I can’t even lose you because I don’t have you.”

The suffering behind his voice caused a single tear to roll down your cheek.

He stepped aside, removing himself from blocking the exit. With a sharp inhale, he sucked in a deep breath, holding it in––just like the tears behind his eyes––as he accepted defeat, “I never had you, did I?”

Unable to stand in his presence any longer without feeling like you were going to sob, you quickly brushed past him and through the door with clouded vision from holding in your tears.

As you left the party, not bothering to tell anyone you were making an early departure, the only thing you could think of was that he did have you. Even if he never thought he did…He had you months ago when you started your friends with benefits. He had you all the time during your arrangement. He even had you when you left him alone on his couch after ending things. And now more than ever, even though you were with someone else, he still had you.

He would always have you in some way.

–––

Your relationship with Noah didn’t progress.

Whether it was due to the fact he never picked up on how Tuesday’s were your worst days or how he picked up on you being distant ever since that party…A relationship never progressed with him.

A month and a half had passed since that party where Mat had you in the bathroom and confessed his feelings for you. Admittedly, you imagined the moment to be sweeter than the heartache both of you felt in that tiny room, but he had said all the words you dreamed about.

You also missed the way he slowly stroked up and down your arm after an intimate moment. You missed the way his hair tickled your neck when he leaned his head on your shoulder. You missed the way he always lit your favorite candle at his place, and always had a backup in case the candle burned out. And most of all, you missed the sound of his laugh.

The month and a half had been miserable. You didn’t have Mat. And you didn’t have anyone who could replace him. So when a particularly hard day came around, you were too exhausted to care that you might not have Mat anymore.

He picked up halfway through the second ring.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, airy, as he breathed in a few breaths, waiting for you to say something. But when all he heard was a shaky breath, he spoke with an even more gentle tone, “Not a good Tuesday?”

Sitting on your couch, wrapped up in a blanket pretending it was someone’s arms around you, you clenched your jaw and shook your head. You felt your throat close up as you sniffled, “No.”

“Is there…What can I do?”

“Come over,” you whispered. And with the way your quivering voice––especially on a Tuesday––Mat knew that all you wanted was a hug, and for someone to say everything would eventually be okay, “Please.”

“Sit tight,” you could faintly hear a smile toying on his face, “I’ll be there within the hour.”

As much as you wanted to stay on the line with him, because even hearing his breathing on the other end calmed you down, you knew he couldn’t be on the phone when he traveled to you. Reluctantly, you hung up after breathing out a nearly inaudible okay.

And like every promise Mat made, he arrived at your place––with a container of soup––within the hour.

You tightened the blanket around your shoulders when you saw him standing in your doorway. He wore sweatpants, a sweatshirt from a year the Islanders made it to the playoffs, and scuffed up sneakers with the laces barely tied together.

Stepping aside, you welcomed him into your apartment, and he wordlessly walked in and headed toward your kitchen. Blindly, you followed him. He set the container down on your small kitchen table and then bent down to open the cabinet where you kept your pots. He poured the soup in the pot, turned the burner on medium, took down two bowls from a cabinet above the stove, and then opened your silverware drawer for two spoons.

He moved around your home like he had never left.

Once everything was in place, Mat turned around the same time he released a deep breath. And with one look at you, his smile was dismal, and his eyes brimmed with sadness thinking about all of the Tuesday’s you had to deal with by yourself.

Neither of you had to say any words to express how lonely you both felt without each other.

You had barely taken two steps toward him when he instinctively opened his arms for you. Barreling into him, his arms felt better around you than the blanket you had wrapped tight around you for the last few hours. With a shaky breath, you breathed in his scent, and you noticed that he smelled like your favorite candle.

Even with your layers of clothes, and the blanket you had, you still felt the heat of his fingers and palms as they softly ran up and down your back, “You’ll be okay.”

With eyes squeezed tight, you gasped for another breath.

“We can talk about it over soup,” Mat whispered as one hand went from your back to soothingly stroke up and down your arm.

You nodded your head against his chest.

The two of you stood in the middle of your kitchen, leaning against each other, until the soup was finished heating up. He took a ladle, poured the soup into two bowls, and carried them to your living room. You followed him, skeptical as to why he didn’t sit at the table, but when you saw him carefully sit cross-legged on your couch––waiting for you to sit across from him––you faintly smiled.

You dropped the blanket from your shoulders, and mirrored Mat’s cross-legged position on the couch. With a bowl of steaming hot soup in each of your laps, you unloaded your treacherous Tuesday to him. And he listened. He listened intently; asking questions where appropriate and reassuring you that the best thing you can do right now is be the best possible version of yourself.

After the soup was finished, the two of you stayed on the couch; you twiddling your thumbs, and Mat tucking his hair nervously behind both of his ears, because neither of you knew where to go from here.

But like all of the times you had been with Mat, he braved through the uncertainty and went after what he desired.

He stretched his limbs out on the couch, feet brushing against your thighs as he lifted his arms over his head. His eyes shut tight as he let out a yawn, and then extended a hand out to you. A small smile made its way onto your lips as you reached out for his hand and he pulled you down into his chest. A laugh escaped your lips as he pulled you into him, both of his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you in place.

And as you settled between the back of the couch cushion and Mat, you listened to his rapid heartbeat as he played with the cotton fabric of the navy blue shirt you wore.

“Is this my shirt?”

You shook your head no against his chest, “It’s mine.”

Mat let out a soft chuckle as he pinched your hip, “I know it’s your shirt, but it…You’re wearing my last name.”

You lifted your head from its soft place on his chest and awkwardly turned your head over your shoulder to see for yourself. And just like he had said, you were able to make out a B-A-R and the number 13 in orange writing. When you got home from your long Tuesday, it was the first thing you saw when you changed into lounge wear. And lucky enough for Mat, it just so happened to be his last name and number.

“I didn’t intentionally wear it,” you mumbled into his chest as his fingertips lightly grazed your bicep. You inhaled an uneven breath, nervous that he might be thinking you called him over for the wrong reason, your voice dropped to a whisper, “I…I didn’t call you over that,” he squeezed your shoulder, reassuring you he knew, “You always make me feel better.”

“More than just on a Tuesday?”

“More than a Tuesday.”

You smiled against his chest and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Lifting your head up, you placed both palms flat on Mat’s chest, and leaned your chin on the tops of your hands and peered up at him, “I’m so tired now, but I want to talk in the morning.”

Mat nodded, “I want to talk too.”

“Do you have morning skate?” You readjusted your head so that it rested just on his collarbone, enough room for Mat to rest his cheek against your forehead.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, “I do, but I’ll work around your schedule.” You nodded against his chest, ready for sleep, but Mat’s gentle whisper kept you awake for a few more moments, “I want this,” his voice was almost lost under the hum of the air conditioning starting up, “I want something more with you. I want to make it work.”

You pressed a soft kiss to the base of his neck and he tightened his hold around your shoulder, emphasizing his seriousness.

As the two of you laid on the couch, right as you almost fell into a deep sleep, Mat groggily mumbled about how you needed to sleep in your bed to feel better on Wednesday. Despite your unwillingness to move, you sleepily move off Mat with eyes barely open. And just like how he moved around your kitchen, he took hold of your limp hand in his and pulled you along to your room.

You did your night time routine, and when you slipped under the covers, you saw Mat stand by the doorway, prepared to make an exit. But as you clutched your white linen sheets to your chest in a fist, one hand lazily rubbed your drowsy eye.

“Stay,” you said through your yawn, “Please.”

“Okay.”

Mat rushed through his bedtime routine and quickly slid in under the sheets. Much like your position on the couch, he curled an arm around you and you laid the side of your face on his chest. As both of your breathing evened out, slow and unhurried, you knew you were on the same wavelength.

And as you felt yourself begin to lose consciousness of reality and slip into your dreams, you fell asleep with a smile. Because when you dreamed, you dreamed of Mat, and all of his dreams became yours.

[matwith1t]

A/N: Hiii! This is my first little writing for Mat! Reposting it from my other account so I can have it all lined up here! I hope you like it, would love to hear your thoughts! 🎓📚🍾 Thank you much to the wonderful @matsbarzals​ for the request!!

Prompt: ‘how about a hug, hm? // Fluff, brief mention of anxiety

WC: 1.5k

You were trying your hardest to enjoy your last few months of university. Trying to savor all of the “free time” you had before that time would eventually be taken up by a nine to five job with an hour for lunch. Trying to enjoy midnight study sessions in the library with your friends, as you all laughed and reminisced about sophomore year instead of actually studying. And trying to enjoy attending your boyfriend’s hockey games while wearing his New York Islanders sweatshirt––your lucky charm––in hopes he scored a goal.

You were trying really hard to enjoy the good times. But the looming thought of post-grad employment always lingered in the back of your head.

It was there when you went to a coffee shop with Mat early in the morning before his practice. There when you were in the library with your friends, being sushed by other students for laughing too loud. And there when Mat had scored a goal and pointed up at you in the stands.

Over winter break, when you went home to visit for a bit before returning to New York, it had been the first question everyone asked you when they found out you were about to be a second semester senior. So, they would hesitantly start out, what are your plans for after graduation?

Who was even hiring? When did you have to have applications in by? Where would that career take you? What job?

With your laptop open and notebooks spread out across Mat’s kitchen table, you were at a loss. You decided to take a study break and search for jobs on LinkedIn, contact people who you met by networking to see if they knew any companies hiring, and even stooped as low as to calling your stringent dad for advice. But nothing was proving helpful and you buried your face in your hands, prepared to have a break down.

You were about to give up and get back to taking notes when you heard the jingle of keys from outside and then saw the door open. And in the midst of feeling an abundance of anxiety, you smiled as Mat awkwardly maneuvered through the door clutching his keys, phone, and bulky practice bag. He kicked the door shut with his foot and dropped his bag with a heavy sigh.

Without a care, he threw his keys on top of his practice bag––no matter how many times you told him it would just be easier to hang them up right when he walked through the door––and looked up from his phone. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he walked into the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said to you as he pulled two glasses from a cabinet and filled them up with water.

You smiled appreciatively as he came over and set a water down in front of you and took the seat next to you, “Couldn’t concentrate anywhere,” you nervously tapped your index finger on the table, “I can leave if you want to be alone––”

Mat's laugh calmed down every nerve you felt before he had arrived. “I gave you a key, remember?” He said with a smirk as he took a sip of water.

Bashfully, you tucked your chin down into your chest as you felt the same butterflies reappear in your stomach like they had two weeks ago when Mat gave you a key to his apartment.

“What’re you studying now?” Mat picked up one of your textbooks and flipped through the pages, making sure he marked the page you were on with his thumb so he wouldn’t lose your place, “Always too smart for me. Everyone will want you after you graduate.”

You tried letting out laugh, tried to see the humor behind his encouraging comment, but all it did was bring up every insecurity you had about not finding a job.

The breathy laugh you tried to let out ended up getting caught in your throat. The prickling behind your eyes became too strong. And with the scratchiness you felt on the back of your throat…You knew what was about to happen.

Screwing your eyes shut tight, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth as you hiccuped.

“Y/n?” Mat softly cooed your name as he placed a gentle hand on your forearm, “Hey, what’s up?”

And that’s all it took for your composure to come undone. The tears broke their dam and flowed as if there was nothing that could stop them. Your shoulders slightly shook as you openly cried in front of your boyfriend into the palms of your hands. Mat had said nothing wrong, he was just being the encouraging boyfriend he promised to be since day one, but his soft words and caring tone of voice somehow triggered a switch.

Not saying a thing, Mat moved his chair right up next to yours. He had one hand gently rubbing up and down your back, and the other hand was still on your forearm; his fingertips softly drawing patterns on your arm. He let you get all of your emotions out, because he knew from previous experience that if you were to explain yourself, it would come out in choppy phrases between your cries.

“Deep breaths,” he whispered in your ear as you felt him rest his chin on your shoulder, “In, one…two…three…Out, four…five…six…” He guided you through a few more breathing exercises until your cries were nonexistent.

He sat there, chin still comfortably resting on your shoulder, for a few more minutes of silence. You appreciated that he didn’t try to remove your hands from your face since you still had a few more silent tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“Talk to me,” Mat whispered.

With one last shaky breath, you lifted your head up from your hands and ripped away the last of your tears with the heels of your palm, “Do you really think everyone will want to hire me after I graduate?”

Mat lifted his chin from your shoulder and tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows, “Uh, yeah,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You’re perfect.”

With a small laugh, you swatted his chest, but he caught your hand in his before it could fall into your lap. You avoided his gaze as you looked down at the keyboard of your laptop, “Everything is just so hard,” you said in a quiet voice, “Making sure you have the right experience, making sure you have the right connections, having the job pay decently, trying not to hate it, checking the location of the job––And did you know that some companies will just ghost you––”

“Whoa, whoa,” Mat calmly said when he noticed you starting to get worked up again. You took a deep breath and he smiled at you, “Everything will work out.”

You felt your shoulders drop, “But what if it doesn’t,” your voice cracked, “My internship hasn’t mentioned anything about it potentially rolling into full time. And what if I––”

“Whether your internship offers you a job, whether you find a job and they want you right after you graduate, or you find a job six months or even a year after you graduate,” You slowly picked your head up to see Mat with the most hopeful look in his eyes, “It’ll be just what you want because you know not to settle for anything less than you deserve.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and he triumphantly smiled when he saw a smile tug at the corners of your lips, “Whatever the job may be, whenever the job comes, it’ll all work out.”

You took a sip of water before looking at Mat and sniffling, “You think so?”

He squeezed your hand, “I know so.”

Nodding your head, you let out a deep breath and finally showed Mat a real smile, “You’re the best.”

Mat rolled his eyes, “I know.” You let out a scoff, but before you could pull your hand away from his, he stood up and tugged you up with him, “How about a hug, hm?”

Without any hesitation, you fell into his chest and leaned your head on the soft material of his sweatshirt. Like he had done earlier, his hands reassuringly rubbed up and down your back, causing you to let up on all of the pent up anxiety you felt about searching for jobs.

You felt Mat press a kiss to the top of your head as he mumbled, “How about a movie and some cuddling?"

"I could use a study break,” you nodded into his chest.

Mat’s arms dropped from around you, as he picked up your hand, and dragged you into the living room. You plopped down on the couch as he grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and soon enough, there was a movie from Netflix that neither of you cared about as you rested your head on Mat’s chest and easily fell asleep to the steady beating of his heart.