Page 47 of Speak in Fever
"Of course I want you," Percy says, the words torn from him like a confession he never intended to make. Rath can't breathe, can't process the relief and joy and terror that crash through him simultaneously. Percy's thumbs brush against Rath's cheeks, and his lips are red and kiss-swollen, beautiful and devastating. "That's the problem."
The admission is everything Rath wanted to hear and everything he feared at the same time. Percy wants him—actually wants him, not just tolerating his attention or wanting physical release. But Percy also sees that want as a problem, a complication that threatens their professional relationship and team dynamics.
"It's not a problem," Rath assures him, his voice hoarse with emotion and desperation. "Percy.Percy—"
Percy pulls him forward with his grip on his face and kisses him again, silencing objections and arguments with the press of his mouth. This kiss is different from the first—more desperate, more claiming, like Percy has made some internal decision to stop fighting what he wants.
Percy kisses him like he'll disappear if he lets go, and Rath holds on and opens up underneath him and tries not to drown in the feelings that are threatening to overtake him. The connection between them feels electric, charged with months of building tension finally given release.
When they break apart again, both breathing hard and flushed, Rath doesn't give Percy a chance to overthink this. He knows if he lets him, Percy will talk himself out of everything in the face of duty and guilt, and he's not going to make it through the night if that happens.
"Come back to the hotel with me," Rath says, the words direct and unambiguous.
Percy's expression shifts, showing internal conflict. "We have to talk about this."
The response is reasonable but frustrating. Rath understands the need for communication, for establishing boundaries and expectations, but his body is still thrumming with arousal and his mind is spinning with possibility.
Rath leans forward and bites Percy's lip gently, just enough pressure to focus his attention and demonstrate the urgency of Rath's need. "You didn't want to talk about it the last time your hand was on my dick, Captain."
Percy's expression shutters at the reminder, something that looks like guilt flashing across his face. The reference to their morning encounter clearly affects him, bringing up memories and feelings he's been trying to compartmentalize.
Rath immediately regrets the comment, recognizing that pushing Percy with guilt or pressure isn't the foundation for whatever relationship they might build. He softens his approach, leaning in to kiss Percy again with gentle sweetness that offers apology and reassurance.
"Okay," he concedes, because it's important to Percy, and Percy's comfort needs to be important to him too. "We'll talk."
Chapter 15
There's a lot of things Percy wants to do with Rath as they head back to the hotel, but talking is not one of them. Rath keeps his hands to himself in the Uber, and stares studiously out the window, in a show of awkwardness that is both endearing and utterly at odds with the man who was in his lap grinding against his dick ten minutes ago.
But talking is important. This is big. This could change their lives, their careers. They need to talk about this.
The Uber drops them at the hotel and they head inside. Percy fishes his keycard out of his wallet and lets them into the room, and Rath enters first and takes off his shoes. He crosses the suite and sits on the couch, but Percy lingers in the doorway like he's entering someone else's room.
The intensity of their make out session is far behind them and now things are just weird. Like they'd been that morning after they woke up tangled in bed together and Percy had overstepped for the hundredth time.
He runs a hand through his hair, and Rath sits tense on the edge of the couch, and he hates that this can't just be easy. That they can't just be regular guys out at a bar that are hooking up, rather than members of a prominent NHL team who could end up splattered across the front of a tabloid if anyone suspected so much as a whiff of a story.
And Rath should care about that as much as Percy cares about that. He's never seen Rath pick up a woman, so maybe he's gay and fine with it, but Percy is definitely not out. Nobody in the NHL is out. So it's terrifying, okay? It's a lot.
Percy crosses the room and sits on the couch, close enough to be intentional, and he can feel Rath stiffen a little beside him in response.
“If you're going to give me the it's not you it's me speech you can save it,” he says, still not looking at Percy.
He wants to ask how Rath can be so carefree about this. Anyone could have seen them in that club. It's like he doesn't care about the consequences. It's like he doesn't care about the fact that if people know then things will change.
It angers him a little, to know Rath isn't thinking this through, that he's not considering what Percy would be putting on the line.
“So you just want me to risk my captaincy and my place on the team for a quick fuck, is that it?” He asks.
“It's not–I’m not asking for a hookup, Percy.”
“Then what the fuck are we doing?”
Rath sighs then, heavy and complicated, and turns to look at him for the first time since they left the club. There's a vulnerability in his expression that takes Percy back, sizzles out some of the anger building in his veins. There's something else there that he doesn't want to see, something hurt and aching and open.
“I like you, okay?” He says quietly, but there's little space between them and there's no other sound in the room but the whirl of the central heating. It might as well be shouted from the rooftops, it's so loud in Percy’s ears, and then the rest of his anger really does fizzle out.
Before Percy can say anything, before he can even process it, Rath takes a breath and continues, just as determined, “And I can't be something convenient for you, okay? You can't just keep… if you want me, I need you to tell me.”
