When you let me in

Chapter 1: "A Game of Heart"
Rhys Donovan stood at the edge of the rink, his hockey stick gripped tightly in his hand, the cool air of the ice rink biting at his skin. His teammates surrounded him, the usual chatter about strategy and practice, but his thoughts were far away.
The weight of the team was always on his shoulders. As captain, Rhys had to lead, had to keep his head clear and focused. It was what everyone expected. He'd learned early on that showing weakness wasn’t an option. That’s why he kept the distance and was always the guy who shot back a quick retort, never too close to anyone.
But then there was Nezirya.
Nezirya was different. Nezi, as Rhys called him when he wasn’t thinking too hard about it, was the one person who managed to get past Rhys’s wall without even trying. And that annoyed the hell out of him.
Nezirya didn’t care about the fame Rhys had, didn’t care about the trophies or the glory. Nezi didn’t care that Rhys was the captain of the team, didn’t care that he was the guy everyone admired and feared. He just… saw Rhys.
“You planning on skating today or just standing there looking like a brooding superhero?” Nezi’s voice broke Rhys out of his thoughts.
Rhys glanced over at Nezirya, who was casually leaning against the rink’s railing, eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something else. Nezi’s dark hair was a little too long, and he wore a faded hoodie that looked about two sizes too big for him. Yet, somehow, he was the only one who could get under Rhys's skin without even trying.
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to stop being so distracting.”
Nezirya raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “Oh, I’m distracting now? Guess that means you’re finally noticing me.”
Rhys hated that he was noticing him. Hated that Nezi’s teasing tone made something warm stir in his chest, something he wasn’t used to feeling. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Nezi,” Rhys muttered, his voice rougher than usual as he pushed past him and skated onto the ice.
The cold, familiar sensation of the rink beneath his skates grounded him. But no matter how fast he went, no matter how hard he skated, there was always this pull in his mind toward Nezirya. It was like a constant hum, something that made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t want to admit.
“You know, you could at least pretend you’re having fun,” Nezi called from the stands, his voice teasing but not unkind. Rhys glanced back and saw Nezi perched on the edge, watching him with an almost calculating expression, like he was trying to figure Rhys out. It made Rhys uncomfortable in ways he couldn't explain.
“Maybe I don’t have time for fun,” Rhys called back, his voice rough. "This isn’t a game."
"Isn't it?" Nezi shot back. "Because it seems like that's exactly what you're doing—treating this whole life like a game, something to win. Maybe you should think about what happens when you stop playing by the rules."
Rhys stopped skating, the words stinging more than he wanted to admit. The team was everything, but Nezi... Nezi was something else entirely. Something Rhys didn’t know how to handle. He turned and looked at Nezi, his eyes narrowing.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rhys’s tone was low, demanding.
Nezi didn’t flinch. He just met Rhys’s eyes with that steady gaze that made him feel like he was being peeled open like Nezi could see every part of him. “It means... you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.”
The words hit harder than they should have. Rhys scoffed, but it was half-hearted. “You think you know me, huh?”
Nezi’s expression softened, almost like he was pitying him, but Rhys hated the way it felt. “No, Rhys. I think I see you.”
Rhys opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words stuck in his throat. Because Nezi didn’t just see him, he understood him in a way that felt like it could crack open everything Rhys had carefully built around himself.
"Just... think about it," Nezi added, his voice a little quieter now. "You don’t have to do this alone."
Before Rhys could respond, Nezi turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students in the bleachers. Rhys stood there, alone on the ice, feeling like a part of him had been left behind.
Chapter 2: "Walls and Bridges"
The next few days were a blur of practice, schoolwork, and the usual routine. But Rhys couldn’t shake Nezirya’s words. They clung to him like a shadow, like something that didn’t belong. He hated it. He hated that he couldn’t just brush it off like he did everything else.
Rhys’s friends noticed. They always did when something was off with him.
“Hey, man, you good?” Tom, one of his best friends and a teammate, asked as they walked to their lockers after class. “You’ve been kind of quiet lately.”
“Just tired,” Rhys muttered, slamming his locker shut. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to explain that he couldn’t stop thinking about Nezirya Harper and how every time he tried to ignore the guy, Nezi’s words echoed in his mind.
“Well, if you need a break, I’m down for a movie marathon tonight,” Tom said, grinning. “Maybe something with explosions. Your kind of thing, right?”
Rhys forced a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, sure. I’ll let you know.”
As they parted ways, Rhys couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting toward Nezirya, who was sitting by himself in the cafeteria, buried in a book. The quiet intensity of his focus made Rhys’s heart do that annoying flip it always did when Nezi was around.
It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t make sense. He was Rhys Donovan, the captain of the hockey team, the guy who didn’t get distracted. The guy who was supposed to have everything figured out.
And yet, here he was, stuck in a loop of wondering why Nezirya had to be so different. Why did Nezi make him feel like this? Why did he make Rhys want to be better?
With a frustrated sigh, Rhys made his way over to Nezirya’s table, not sure what he was doing but unable to stay away.
Nezirya didn’t even look up as Rhys sat down across from him, his eyes still on his book. There was a quiet kind of peace about Nezi, a calm that Rhys envied, even though he wouldn’t admit it aloud.
“Hey,” Rhys said, his voice gruff.
Nezirya raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Rhys knew Nezi was waiting for him to say more.
“I’ve been thinking,” Rhys started, and Nezirya’s eyes finally lifted from the book, locking onto Rhys’s. It was like everything else around them faded away. “Maybe... maybe you’re right. About the whole ‘doing it alone’ thing.”
Nezi didn’t smile, but his eyes softened. “I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do, Rhys.”
“I know.” Rhys’s voice was quieter now. “But I’m tired of pretending I’ve got it all figured out. I don’t. Not everything.”
Nezirya didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached out, his hand barely brushing Rhys’s, sending a jolt through him that he hadn’t expected. But when Nezi spoke, his voice was soft and understanding.
“You don’t have to figure it out alone. You’ve got people around you who care. Don’t push them away.”
Rhys swallowed hard, his heart racing. This was the part where he would normally brush everything off, throw up a wall, and pretend it didn’t matter. But this time... something was different.
This time, he didn’t want to pull away.
Chapter 3: "Striking a Balance"
It had been three days since Rhys had gotten out of the hospital, and his leg was still a mess, but Nezirya was relentless in his efforts to keep Rhys from falling back into the routine of shutting everyone out. Nezirya had promised that Rhys would have a good time during his forced break from hockey. Rhys hadn’t been sure how, considering he couldn’t even walk without crutches, but he wasn’t about to argue.
Nezirya knocked on Rhys’s door at 4 PM sharp, looking far too pleased with himself for the type of surprise he had planned.
“Ready to have some fun, captain?” Nezirya grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Rhys raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “You realize I’m practically useless right now, right? I can’t even walk without crutches. My idea of fun is binge-watching Netflix for the next two weeks.”
Nezirya didn’t flinch. “I’ve got something better. Come on, it’ll be good for you. You can sit down most of the time, I promise.”
Reluctantly, Rhys let Nezirya drag him out of the apartment and into the car. He couldn’t help the curiosity that gnawed at him. What kind of “fun” was Nezirya planning? He didn’t have the energy for a long night out or anything too intense. But somehow, Nezirya always managed to convince him to do things he normally wouldn’t.
When they arrived at the bowling alley, Rhys raised an eyebrow, looking at Nezirya like he was crazy. “Bowling? Seriously?”
Nezirya just smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. “You’re going to have fun. Trust me.”
Rhys sighed, not entirely sure about this, but willing to give it a shot. It was something different, something that didn’t revolve around hockey. And in that moment, Rhys realized he could use that.
They grabbed their shoes and picked out their bowling balls. Nezirya was quick to explain the rules, though it wasn’t hard for Rhys to figure it out. The biggest challenge for him was balancing on his crutches and trying to avoid looking like an idiot while throwing the ball.
“You’re overthinking it, Rhys,” Nezirya teased as Rhys got into position for his first roll. “Just relax. It’s not like you’re going to win anyway.”
Rhys shot him a playful glare, narrowing his eyes. “You think I won’t win?”
“I think you’re probably more worried about not falling on your face,” Nezi smirked.
Rhys rolled the ball, the smooth weight of it in his hands feeling strange after being out of commission for so long. He was careful, not putting too much force into it, and watched as the ball wobbled down the lane, barely knocking over a single pin.
Nezirya burst out laughing, clapping his hands. “I stand corrected. You might just fall on your face before you win anything.”
Rhys couldn’t help but laugh too, the sound coming out more easily than he expected. He loved that Nezirya was so comfortable teasing him like this, without an ounce of malice. It was simple and light, and Rhys found himself enjoying the absurdity of the moment.
“All right, all right,” Rhys said, grinning despite himself. “Let’s see how you do. I’ll show you I’m not completely useless.”
Nezirya stood up, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a serious challenge. “Prepare to be amazed,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence.
Nezirya’s throw was smooth and effortless. The ball sped down the lane and struck the pins with a satisfying crash. Nezirya turned and flashed a winning smile.
“Show-off,” Rhys muttered, but he couldn’t hide the grin spreading across his face. “Okay, fine. Maybe I underestimated you.”
Nezirya just shrugged, not at all surprised by his success. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
As the game went on, they swapped playful banter and laughed until their stomachs hurt. Rhys found himself forgetting about the pain in his leg, forgetting about the things that had been weighing on his mind. Nezirya made him feel… normal. He didn’t have to be Rhys Donovan, the tough, untouchable hockey captain, all the time.
By the end of the game, Rhys had still lost (barely), but it didn’t matter. The real victory had been the feeling of freedom and ease that came with spending time with Nezirya. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and for the first time in a while, Rhys didn’t feel like he had to constantly be the person everyone expected.
Nezirya high-fived him with a grin. “Not bad for a guy who can’t walk properly.”
Rhys snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not going to let you forget that, am I?”
“Most definitely not,” Nezirya said, winking. “But hey, you had fun. Who would’ve guessed?”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “You did.”
Chapter 4: "The Flicker of Something More"
The week passed in a blur of half-days at school and quiet nights spent in Rhys’s apartment. Nezirya made it a point to drag Rhys out of his shell, whether it was another spontaneous movie night or a trip to a coffee shop that Nezirya swore had the best iced-lattes in the city (Rhys was still skeptical, but Nezirya was persistent).
One night, Nezirya suggested they go to a movie. Rhys was still on crutches, but Nezirya was more than happy to help him out. And Rhys couldn’t argue—movies were about as low-effort as it got. Plus, he’d been curious about the movie Nezirya had picked. It was some indie film he swore was “life-changing,” whatever that meant.
“So, what’s this movie about, anyway?” Rhys asked as they sat down in their seats, the theater was dark and quiet except for the murmurs of other moviegoers.
Nezirya grinned, leaning back in his seat. “It’s about two people who are complete opposites, but they somehow change each other’s lives. It’s one of those movies that makes you think, you know?”
Rhys snorted. “That’s the best you can do? Opposites attract? I’m not buying it.”
Nezirya laughed. “You might surprise yourself. Just watch.”
The movie unfolded in a series of slow, thought-provoking moments. Rhys found himself drawn in more than he expected. The characters’ relationship was awkward at first—full of tension, misunderstandings, and clashing personalities—but as it progressed, Rhys started to see the deeper connection between them.
“See? Told you,” Nezirya whispered, nudging Rhys gently with his elbow during a quiet scene.
Rhys didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he watched the screen, feeling a strange tug at his chest. The way the two characters helped each other, made each other better—it felt like something he wanted, something that had been missing in his life.
As the credits rolled, Nezirya turned to Rhys, his eyes bright with excitement. “What do you think? Was it good?”
Rhys was quiet for a moment. His mind was still processing the film, but he couldn’t deny it had left an impression on him. He glanced over at Nezirya, who was watching him with that same eager expression.
“Yeah,” Rhys said, his voice a little softer than usual. “It was good. I guess you were right.”
Nezirya grinned. “Told you. Sometimes, I’m not all bad ideas.”
Rhys laughed, though it was quieter, more thoughtful. “I’m starting to believe that.”
As they walked out of the theater, Rhys couldn’t shake the feeling that this—this strange, unexpected friendship with Nezirya—was starting to become something more. Something deeper than he’d ever allowed himself to admit.
And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Chapter 5: "All the Things We Didn't Say"
The rink was electric, the energy of the crowd pulsing through Rhys’s veins as the game entered its final period. The score was tied, and the tension in the air was so thick, it felt like it could snap at any second. Rhys had his game face on, eyes locked on the puck, his body moving with precision and control.
He wasn’t just playing for the team tonight—he was playing for himself.
The whistle blew, signaling a faceoff at center ice, and Rhys crouched low, ready to make his move. The opposing team’s defensemen were fast, and aggressive, and Rhys’s eyes narrowed as he anticipated their next move. He could feel the sweat on his brow, the anticipation running through him like electricity.
But it was the hit that came out of nowhere that took him completely by surprise.
A sharp collision from behind slammed Rhys into the boards, the impact jarring his entire body. His head hit the hard surface, and for a moment, everything blurred. His breath was knocked out of him, and he fought to stay upright. The crowd’s roar seemed muffled, distant.
He barely registered the sharp pain that shot through his leg as he crumpled to the ice, unable to move.
“Rhys!”
Nezirya’s voice cut through the haze. Rhys’s vision swam as he felt hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him away from the chaos of the game. He didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the shock, but his body felt numb, almost weightless.
The whistle blew again, and Rhys could hear the concerned shouts of his teammates, but it was all so distant.
“Stay with me, Rhys,” Nezirya’s voice was urgent now, his hands on Rhys’s face, gently lifting his head. Rhys blinked, his eyes struggling to focus. Nezirya’s face came into view, his usually calm expression filled with concern. “Rhys, talk to me. Are you okay?”
Rhys swallowed hard, but his throat felt dry. The pain in his leg was unbearable, and his head throbbed in a pulsing rhythm that made him want to collapse again. “I’m fine,” he managed, though the words came out more like a groan. “I just... didn’t see that coming.”
Nezi didn’t seem convinced. He placed a hand against Rhys’s cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle, as if afraid of hurting him further. “You’re not fine, you’re hurt. I’m calling for help.”
Rhys wanted to argue, to insist he was fine, but the world tilted again, and he couldn’t form words. His body was betraying him, and all he could do was lie there as Nezirya called for the trainers.
Chapter 6: "Two Weeks of Silence"
The sterile scent of a hospital room filled Rhys’s senses as he slowly regained consciousness. The constant beeping of machines and the faint murmur of voices in the background were the first things he became aware of. His head was pounding, his leg in a brace, and there was a dull ache in his chest from the impact.
He tried to sit up but stopped when pain shot through his body. With a groan, he sank back into the bed.
“You’re awake.” The soft voice made him freeze, and when he turned his head, there stood Nezirya.
He was holding a cup of water, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with something more serious, more concerned. Rhys opened his mouth to speak, but his throat felt raw.
Nezirya set the cup down on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up. “Here,” he said, offering the water. “Drink. You’ve been out for hours. They said you’d need fluids.”
Rhys took a slow sip, wincing at the dryness in his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask what had happened. The pain was still present, gnawing at him, but there was something else—something strange in Nezirya’s gaze, something that made Rhys’s stomach tighten.
“What happened?” Rhys asked hoarsely once he could speak. His voice barely came out, but Nezirya seemed to understand.
“You took a pretty hard hit,” Nezi said, his tone quiet, almost gentle. “You’ve got a concussion, and your leg’s badly bruised. They want to keep you here for observation for a couple of days.”
Rhys clenched his jaw. He hated the idea of being stuck in a hospital bed, helpless. But the thought of not being able to play... it sent a rush of panic through him. “I can’t stay here. The game—”
Nezi shook his head, his expression soft but firm. “You need rest. The doctors said it’s too risky for you to move around right now. You won’t be able to play for a while, Rhys. You need to take care of yourself first.”
Rhys closed his eyes, frustration bubbling in his chest. He hated how vulnerable he felt right now, how helpless. But there was something in Nezirya’s presence that calmed him, something that made him realize he wasn’t alone in this.
“Thanks for staying,” Rhys muttered, his voice rough with emotion he didn’t know how to handle.
Nezirya nodded, though his eyes were darker than usual, his brow furrowed. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 7: "Healing Hands"
Two days later, Rhys was finally released from the hospital, but the doctors were clear: no practice, no hockey, and most of all, no running around. He’d be out for a couple of weeks at least.
Nezirya insisted on taking him home, and Rhys didn’t argue. For once, he wasn’t in the mood to push back. He was sore, and tired, and all he wanted was to crawl into bed and forget about the game, the pain, and the fact that he couldn’t get back on the ice.
But Nezirya wouldn’t let him retreat into himself.
“You need help getting up the stairs?” Nezi asked, watching as Rhys gingerly navigated the steps of his apartment.
Rhys shook his head, his pride still intact despite the injury. “I’ve got it,” he muttered, though it was clear he was struggling.
Nezirya’s eyes softened, but he didn’t push. Instead, he hovered, just in case, staying close but not overwhelming.
“I’m going to make you something to eat. You’ve barely eaten since the accident,” Nezirya said as he disappeared into the kitchen.
Rhys settled onto the couch, the weight of his injury still heavy on him. It was hard to admit it, but the isolation that came with being laid up like this was harder than he expected. He hated being taken care of, and hated feeling vulnerable.
But Nezirya didn’t make him feel weak. He didn’t look at him like he was some charity case.
For the next two weeks, Nezirya was there every step of the way. He helped Rhys with his crutches, made sure he ate and even sat with him when Rhys didn’t feel like talking.
And through it all, Rhys realized something that scared him more than the game ever had: he was starting to need Nezirya in ways he hadn’t expected. The quiet moments, the way Nezi didn’t judge him for his temper or his frustrations—he just... stayed.
“You know, you’re pretty good at this whole ‘taking care of me’ thing,” Rhys said one evening, his voice quieter than usual.
Nezirya smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. “I’m just doing what anyone would do for a friend.”
Rhys stared at him for a long moment, something shifting inside him, something deeper than just friendship. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come. He didn’t need to say anything, though. The way Nezirya looked at him, the way he stayed even when Rhys wasn’t sure he deserved it, told him everything he needed to know.