THIRD PERSON'S POV.
For the rest of the morning everyone was packed, after all that cleaning in the early morning Ian quickly made it to his class, for a Monday he sure was packed with a lot of book work, after all Ian was a nerd, with his specs and a bunch of books, but everyone found that .....hot.
It was surprising none of the two bumped into each other, either Dominic was trying to play hide and seek, that would be so childish, or the fact that he was also as busy as Ian.
Finally breathing away the exhaustion, it was midday, the cafeteria buzzing with chatter, trays clattering and gossip flying as usual. Ian sat with Sabby half-listening to him complaining about someone flirting with his latest crush while gulping piles of food, God he was so hungry. As they minded their own business, a shadow loomed over their table, and guess who it was?, Dominic.
Ian almost choked on his soup, what was Dominic doing on their table, not like he couldn't be there, but why their table?. The whole cafeteria stilled for a heartbeat. A few students even leaned closer, waiting for a clash, maybe a tray flying or a sharp exchange. But nothing came. Dominic simply looked at Ian.
"Am free, let's talk" Sabby immediately raised both of his hands "I'm going to go before someone gets murdered" he said dramatically backing away "try not to stab each other with a fork"
Ian stood up getting his bag, "come on, I know just a spot". Ian led Dominic out of the cafeteria and down a narrow hidden path behind the library, to a quiet little alcove he'd claimed for himself weeks ago. A window with filtered light, an old bench and enough quiet time to think straight. It was his secret hideout, well...not anymore though....
"this is the quiet place you run to?" Dominic quipped, glancing around, "it's giving lonely squirrel energy"
"I come here to avoid squirrels like you" Ian replied without missing a beat. Dominic only smirked, "do they bully you too?" Ian sighed, "can we just.....start?"
"Here" Ian said, sitting cross-legged, "we'll do the assignment here" Dominic didn't argue. That itself was strange. Ian began immediately "so the question is simple, know your partner, so what do you think emotional regulation means for athletes?" he took out a small notebook and a pen waiting for Dominic to answer only for him to scoff, arms crossed.
"Not crying like a baby when your team looses" Ian rolled his eyes "wow, inspiring, that would definitely earn us an A" "I aim to please" Dominic said dramatically. "Okay, what triggers your anger during competition?"
"you"
Ian stared at him, "are you serious?". Dominic shrugged, "we are supposed to be honest, remember?" so Dominic did go through the assignment requirements and rules.
"how about you try being honest without being an asshole" Dominic put a hand over his chest, mock-offended "ouch, that sounded a lot like an insult Mr. Golden boy"
"Golden boys don't sweep rinks with emotionally constipated jerks"
"oh big words, who taught you that? Therapy?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if you needed some" Ian muttered.
Dominic chuckled, kicking his foot slightly "your kind of spicy when you're under pressure"
"and you're exhausting when conscious". They glared at each other for a second too long before Ian sighed, rubbing his face. "This is getting nowhere. We'll write something about each other. First impression or any observation. It doesn't have to be poetry. Just not flaming garbage"
"so....my handwriting will still be better than yours"
"just write" Ian growled. Dominic snorted but nevertheless agreed, "am only doing this so you shut up" "and am doing this so you learn to function around humans". Ian made his way to work and Dominic back to his captain duties, the two would meet in the evening again anyway.
.
.
The evening practice was hectic as always, bodies sweaty and bones tired. And after practice they were alone again at the rink. Sweeping opposite ends of the ice, keeping to themselves as much as possible. Until finally, they met in the middle with little more than a glance and exchanged the chits wordlessly. Then turned, kept cleaning, chits in hand. Ian had suggested the idea earlier, a starting point, since talking like normal people was apparently too much for them.
Ian was the first to pull his out. His fingers were a little cold, but they didn't shake. He unfolded the chit, Dominic's handwriting jagged and messy.
He stared at it. One beat. Two.
No visible reaction.
Just a pause.
Then he folded the note quietly, tucked into his jacket. Without looking up he crossed the rink walking out "thanks for being honest" he said softly, almost too softly.
Dominic blinked. He hadn't expected that. He watched Ian walk away, shoulders calm. Then slowly, Dominic opened the note. Ian's handwriting was clear and smooth like him, always composed.
"You're louder than your voice, and quieter than your silence. I think there is more to you, but maybe you're just scared someone will see it"
It hit like a soft punch to the chest.
He stood there for a second, the note still open in his hand, feeling the weight of words that said more than either of them had dared to voice. And for the first time in a while, he didn't have a snarky comeback. Just silence.
Something in his chest cracked a little when Ian walked off.
He didn't call him back.
Didn't apologize.
But for the first time he wanted to.
"Ian seems too put together. Too fake. Like he's trying to play the good guy, but people like that always have something to hide. Maybe if he stopped pretending to be so perfect, he'd actually be likable"
.
.
.