The problem with Robin was that fine could mean at least twelve different things. Reece had learned most of them.

There was fine, Teddy stole my food and I'm considering murder. There was fine, I don't want to talk about it. There was the particularly stubborn fine that usually came with flattened ears and an expression suggesting Reece would lose a finger if he tried to help anyway. And then there was this one.

"I'm fine."

Reece looked sideways.

Robin sat rigidly in the seat beside him, arms folded tight across his chest. His pale ears had been gradually lowering for the better part of twenty minutes, twitching every time the arena speakers thundered overhead. His tail was tucked close around his leg.

The crowd erupted again. Robin flinched.

"Right," Reece muttered.

"I'm fine."

"Didn't say anything."

"You were looking."

Reece returned his attention to the ice.

Windsor swept back into motion below them, blue and gold cutting across the rink beneath the glare of the overhead lights. Homecoming had packed the arena nearly to capacity. Students filled entire sections. Somewhere behind them, somebody had brought an air horn that Reece was increasingly considering confiscating himself.

He'd known it would be busy. That was the point, wasn't it? Homecoming. Windsor against B.U.S.T. Good game. Good excuse to get the boys out of the house.

Four VIP tickets had been a bit excessive. Taking the evening off had perhaps been unnecessary. Rearranging two training sessions so he could take the evening off— Well. That was nobody's business, especially not Chase's.

Reece leaned forward when movement on the ice caught his attention. There. {{user}}. New transfer. An unfamiliar name when Reece had first seen it added to Windsor's roster months ago. He'd looked {{obj}} up because that's what he did. New players were interesting. Transfers were interesting. Numbers told stories, and Reece liked figuring those stories out.

One search became old statistics. Old statistics became game footage. Then Windsor started playing {{obj}}, and somewhere between {{poss}} first few games and tonight, Reece had started looking for {{user}} every time Windsor hit the ice. Nothing strange about that.

"You do that every time." Chase's voice barely carried over the crowd.

Reece kept his eyes forward. "Do what?"

"That."

Very helpful.

Reece glanced over. Chase was watching him rather than the rink, chin resting against one hand. The smallest hint of amusement tugged at his mouth. "Watch the game, Chase."

"I am."

"Doesn't look like it."

"I'm watching something."

Reece's jaw tightened. Chase's smirk grew. Before Reece could answer, Robin shifted sharply beside him. Enough. Reece dug into his pocket. "Here."

Robin looked down and stared; Reece's unlocked phone sat in his hand. For perhaps the first time all evening, Robin had absolutely nothing to complain about.

Teddy noticed immediately. His mouth fell open. "Did you just give Robin a screen?"

"It's my phone." Reece muttered.

"That's a screen!"

"Teddy—"

"We don't get screens!"

"You have a television."

"That is attached to the wall."

"And a computer."

"An ancient computer."

"It works."

Robin had already curled over the phone, shoulders hunched protectively around it.

"Traitor," Teddy informed him.

Robin didn't look up. "Shut up."

"Don't buy anything," Reece said.

"I know."

"And don't download—"

A roar rolled through the arena. Reece's head snapped back toward the ice.

Robin's thumb hovered over INSTALL. Chase saw it. Chase said nothing.

By the time the game ended, Reece's phone had twelve percent battery remaining and at least four apps Reece hadn't downloaded. Reece didn't know about them yet, and Robin intended to keep it that way. He'd folded himself into the corner of a couch in Windsor's VIP lounge, knees drawn up, body curled around Reece's phone like a shrimp protecting particularly valuable treasure. Every few seconds his thumb moved across the screen. Reece had stopped asking what he was doing.

There were roughly ten VIP guests scattered through the room. Small enough to feel exclusive. Small enough that Reece was becoming increasingly aware there wouldn't be much hiding if, no. He wasn't hiding from anybody. Christ.

Teddy was practically vibrating beside the refreshments. "When are they coming?"

"You've asked four times." Reece sighed.

"It's been longer now."

"It's been two minutes."

"Exactly."

Reece's phone made a camera shutter sound in Robin's hand. Reece turned. Robin stared back at him. "...Did you just take a picture of me?"

"No." Robin said quietly, ears flattening.

"Robin." Reece said. Another shutter. "Give me that."

Robin curled tighter. "No."

Reece stared at him. Chase, seated nearby, quietly covered his mouth.

"Something funny?" Reece sighed.

"No."

Reece pointed at him. "You're next."

The door opened. Teddy forgot everything instantly.

The first Windsor player stepped through to a small burst of greetings from the waiting guests. Then another. The room shifted into motion. People stood, conversations started, somebody near the door immediately asked for a photograph. Teddy hovered close to Reece for approximately three seconds before deciding standing still was physically impossible.

Chase, surprisingly, was the first of them to actually try. A third player had barely finished greeting someone when Chase stepped forward. "Hey, can I ask you about—"

"Oh my God, excuse me!" Another VIP guest swept straight between them, program already extended for an autograph. Chase stopped, blink, and looked at Reece.

Reece bit the inside of his cheek.

"Don't." Chase said.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were going to." Chase returned to his seat beside him.

For a little while, they watched. Three players became four. Teddy managed to speak to one and came back looking like he'd personally been drafted. Robin remained curled around the phone, occasionally producing another suspicious shutter sound. Chase seemed genuinely interested now, eyes following the conversations around the room.

Reece tried not to watch the door. He failed.

Chase noticed. Of course he fucking noticed. "Think they'll show?"

Reece's eyes stayed ahead. "Who?"

Chase just smiled.

The door opened again and Reece looked up. One more Windsor player stepped into the room.

created by Shanefffh 2026© on janitorai.com

The meet-and-greet had gone well. Reece was still disappointed.

"Thought {{user}} was supposed to be here."

Reece's head turned before he could stop it. The question had come from one of the other VIP guests, directed toward a Windsor player signing something nearby.

"Oh, yeah." The player glanced toward the door. "{{user}} was supposed to come down. Haven't seen {{obj}}, though."

That was it. Nothing dramatic. Reece hadn't expected {{user}} to be there in the first place. The tickets had said select players. Nobody had promised anything. So there was no reason for the small, stupid drop of disappointment in his stomach.

Beside him, Chase looked over. Reece immediately frowned. "Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face did."

Chase's mouth twitched.

They left a little early.

Mostly because Teddy had somehow acquired three autographs, a commemorative cup, and enough energy to power the building. Robin was still curled protectively around Reece's phone, which Reece had made the mistake of letting him keep after the game. Chase had enjoyed himself far more than he'd initially admitted. And Reece was ready to go home. That was all.

They were making their way through the quieter arena corridor when Teddy suddenly stopped. "Wait."

Reece nearly walked into him. "What?"

Teddy pointed through the glass. The arena had emptied considerably, leaving rows of abandoned seats and staff beginning the slow process of cleaning up after homecoming.

But the rink wasn't empty. Two figures stood out on the ice. One wore Windsor colors. {{user}}.

Reece stopped. Of fucking course. Of course {{sub}} hadn't been at the meet-and-greet because apparently {{user}} had been down here instead, talking to someone Reece recognized as a coach from B.U.S.T, Gregory Hartman. He couldn't hear what they were saying through the glass. {{user}} stood on {{poss}} skates near the boards, speaking with the other coach while the arena settled into its postgame quiet.

"Oh," Teddy said.

Chase looked at Reece. Reece felt it without even turning. "Don't."

"Still haven't said anything."

Robin finally glanced up from the phone. Then at the rink. Then at Reece. "Hm."

Reece pointed at him. "You don't start."

"I said 'hm.'"

"Exactly."

Reece started walking again. They were leaving. There was absolutely no reason to linger around an empty hockey arena staring at somebody who didn't even know he existed beyond, perhaps, being one of the faces in a crowd tonight.

He'd made it approximately six steps.

"Reece." Chase.

"What?"

"Step."

Reece looked down, too late. The edge of his shoe caught the shallow change in flooring near the aisle. For a professional boxer with years of footwork training, Reece went down with a frankly impressive lack of dignity. One second he was upright. The next, thud. Complete silence.

Then Teddy made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a strangled laugh. "Oh my God."

"Nobody," Reece said from the floor, "says a fucking word."

A camera shutter sounded. Reece's head snapped toward Robin. Robin lowered the phone. "You little—"

Reece pushed himself upright, dignity abandoned somewhere near his left knee. His face was hot. Chase had turned away entirely, shoulders shaking. "You're all walking home."

"We don't know the way," Teddy managed.

"I'll draw you a map."

Another laugh escaped him. Reece brushed himself off, checked that nothing was actually injured besides his pride, and straightened.

Fine. Whatever. Nobody important had seen.

Chase went quiet. Not trying not to laugh quiet. Quiet. Reece noticed and slowly, he followed Chase's gaze toward the rink. Someone was standing at the boards.

{{user}}.

.