Page 20 of Speak in Fever
"Yeah," Rath agrees quickly, and Percy catches the way his eyes dart briefly in Percy's direction before looking away.
There's something vulnerable in that quick glance, something that makes Percy's chest tight with an emotion he can't quite name. Without fully understanding why, he finds himself jumping into the conversation.
"Nothing wrong with that," Percy says, his voice carrying more conviction than he expected.
Rath looks at him then, and there's something grateful and vulnerable in his expression that makes Percy's heart rate pick up.
The moment stretches between them, heavy with unspoken meaning that Percy is afraid to examine too closely. The rest of the table seems to fade into background noise, and for a few seconds it feels like they're having a private conversation in the middle of a crowded bar.
"Alright, alright," Torres says, apparently sensing that his teasing has hit some kind of nerve. "We get it. Rath's a romantic. Cap's a monk. The rest of us will have to carry the team's reputation for debauchery."
"I'm not a monk," Percy protests automatically, but his heart isn't really in it.
"Could have fooled me," JP grins. "When's the last time you even went on a date?"
Percy opens his mouth to respond, then realizes he doesn't actually have a good answer. When had he last gone on a date? When had he last been interested enough in someone to pursue them? The truth is, he's been so focused on hockey and his captaincy responsibilities that he hasn't really thought about dating in months.
"See?" Torres says triumphantly. "Total monk behavior."
The conversation moves on to other topics—Martinez's disastrous attempt to ask out a barista, JP's ongoing situationship with someone he met on a dating app, Torres's elaborate plans for his next conquest. But Percy finds himselfstealing glances at Rath, who seems to have retreated into himself after the awkward questions about his dating life.
The easy confidence from earlier has been replaced by something more guarded, and Percy has the uncomfortable feeling that Torres's casual comments have somehow touched on something deeper. Rath participates minimally in the ongoing conversation, offering polite laughs at appropriate moments but clearly not engaged the way he had been earlier.
As the evening wears on, Percy becomes increasingly aware of Rath's discomfort. There's something almost fragile in the way Rath holds himself now, like he's protecting something vulnerable. Percy wants to say something, to find a way to ease whatever tension Rath is feeling, but he doesn't know how to do it without drawing more attention to the situation.
"Another round?" Torres asks as their glasses empty.
"I should probably head out," Rath says quickly, already reaching for his jacket. "Early morning tomorrow."
"Come on, it's barely ten," JP protests. "The night's still young."
"I'm good," Rath insists, his voice carrying a finality that discourages argument. "Thanks for tonight, though. It was fun."
But as he stands to leave, Percy can see that "fun" is the last thing Rath looks like he's having. There's something almost desperate in the way he's putting on his jacket, like he can't get out of there fast enough.
"I should head out too," Percy finds himself saying, surprising everyone including himself. "Captain's responsibilities and all that."
"Since when do you leave before midnight?" Torres asks suspiciously.
"Since always," Percy lies, grabbing his own jacket. "Some of us take conditioning seriously."
He follows Rath out of the bar, the cool evening air a relief after the warm, beer-soaked atmosphere inside. Rath is already halfway to his car, moving with quick, agitated steps that suggest he's trying to put as much distance between himself and the bar as possible.
"Rath," Percy calls, jogging to catch up. "Hey, wait up."
Rath stops but doesn't turn around immediately. When he finally faces Percy, his expression is carefully neutral in a way that doesn't hide the tension underneath.
"You okay?" Percy asks, though it's obvious that Rath isn't okay at all.
"I'm fine," Rath says, but his voice is tight. "Just tired."
"Torres can be an asshole sometimes," Percy offers, hoping to acknowledge what just happened without making it worse. "He doesn't mean anything by it, but he doesn't know when to stop pushing."
"It's not..." Rath starts, then stops, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It's fine. Really. I just need to get home. Take another shower, empty the dishwasher, you know." Rath looks at him for a long moment, something vulnerable flickering across his features before he manages to lock it down again. "I should go."
"Yeah," Percy agrees, though he makes no move toward his own car. "Just... today was good. On the ice. I meant what I said about the foundation."
A small smile breaks through Rath's carefully constructed mask. "Yeah. It was good."
