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#ok Chess slaps and I feel like we ignore it
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Oh to go back to listeing to Chess the first time and hearing:
That total vibe change in the opening number *chefs kiss*
‘Nowwww immm WHERE I WANNA BE AND WHO I WANNA BE-’
‘No. one. can. deny. that. these. are. diffi.cult. times.’ *flips desk*
‘ONE NIGHT IN BANGKOK AND THE WOIRLDS YER ERSTER’
‘That you can go. Jump. Off. The. Moun.tain I won’t carreeeEEEEEEEEEE’
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cthulhuliet · 3 years
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playing his game
6.1k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, canon-typical violence
L is hoping for something-- to see any flash of Kira behind Light's eyes. He would do anything to draw him out again, even play a silly party game for a brief hint. He ends up with more than bargained for.
“Ok, truth or dare,” Light asked, looking expectantly at L.
“Is this really a good use of our time?” L bit the corner of his thumbnail, pointedly looking away from Light.
“You have asked that already,” Light crossed his arms, annoyed, “And I don’t see any better use of our time,”
L knew that, in a way, Light was correct. The Kira case had reached a cold spot after Light and Misa’s imprisonment, which left L feeling depressed and unmotivated to work on anything (despite the… encouragement from Light). Playing a party game with a teenager was towards the bottom of his priority list. However, that teenager was currently L’s prime (and only suspect) in the most difficult case of his career, so it would be foolish not to play.
Furrowing his eyebrows, L pulled his knees closer to his chest, “Fine, we can continue,”
“Truth or dare,”
L paused for a moment. He knew that even if Light asked something incriminating like his name for truth, he could simply lie or refuse to answer. Though, it is interesting that for the past rounds, Light has simply been treating this as a fun “get to know you” party game, while L is looking over his shoulder and analyzing every one of his questions.
“Dare, I suppose,”
Light smirked, “I dare you to take these off,” He shook his wrist, the handcuff jangling with the movement. L said nothing, simply raising an eyebrow, “Eh, worth a shot,” Light stood up from where he was sitting and quickly reached over to the coffee table behind him and put the phone in front of L’s feet, “Fine. I dare you to prank call Misa,”
L opened his mouth and closed it, shaking his head, “No, I am not doing that,”
“What? Giving up already?’ Light smirked leaning in close to L. He could smell the aftershave on his cheeks and the toothpaste on his breath, “I guess that means I win, Ryuzaki,”
A ripple of heat waved through his blood. Despite being a stupid party game, L was not about to lose, especially not about to lose because of Misa. He snatched the receiver from Light’s hand, “No, you do not,” He put the receiver between the crook of his shoulder and ear, “I am not about to lose to you, Light,” A devilish grin spread across Light’s face, as he wordlessly dialed in the numbers. It was only when the line was trilling did L realise how ridiculous this was. Covering the end of the receiver, he whispered to Light, “What am I even supposed to say?”
Light looked like a child at a birthday party, biting his lips to fight off a smile, “Figure it out,”
The line connected and he heard shuffling on the other end, “Light? Why are you calling? It is 2 in the morning,”
L froze, looking at Light with owlish eyes, begging for help. The latter would be of no help, seeing as he was using every muscle in his body to suppress his laughter, “Oh, apologies for the late call Misa, this is actually Ryuzaki,” His voice felt stilted and awkward, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Oh, is Light still awake?”
“No,”
There was an elongated pause, L could hear Misa’s quiet breath on the other line, “Do you need something? This better not be something perverted, calling me at 2am…”
L rolled his eyes, “Of course not. I, uh, just wanted to let you know that… Watari is making waffles tomorrow. Do you want me to put you down for some?”
Misa hummed on the other line, “I don’t know, all that sugar will make me fat,”
“These are 0 calorie and organic fair trade,” He goaded.
She sighed, taking a moment to consider, “That actually sounds lovely. I don’t know why you had to call me instead of just waiting until morning.”
“Uh-”
“It’s probably just an excuse to hear my voice,” She giggled, “It’s ok Ryuzaki, I won’t tell anyone,” Misa yawned dramatically on the other line, “I am going back to bed. Tell Light to come visit me tomorrow.”
“You realise that I would also be-”
“Goodnight!” The call disconnected. L pulled the phone away from his ear and slowly put it back onto the cradle. He looked over at Light, amusement sparkling in his eyes, “Misa is looking forward to a date with you tomorrow,”
Light slapped a hand to his forehead and started laughing. There was something infectious about Light’s laugh that made him smile too.
“Ryuzaki, that was the worst prank ever,” He choked out between chuckles.
Light’s smile lit up the room and L could feel swells of warmth coursing through his body, hitting him gently like waves on your ankles in the ocean. Light’s smile, his genuine smile, was one that lit up a room and kept people watching. When his laughter and joy reaches his eyes, L is not surprised about Light being so popular. And in moments of weakness, L could see why he would fall for him as well. Though, that warmth was nothing compared to the twisting of the icicle in his gut. The flaring up of every neuron in his nervous system, with anxiety spiking up to 11. The logic center of his brain turning him and shaking him by the shoulders, begging him to remember that none of this is real .
The real Light would have never laughed like a schoolboy as L prank called his girlfriend, finding hilarity in something so trivial. The real Light would never playfully, but softly, ruffle L’s hair, telling him to lighten up. The real Light would never look him in the eyes, and thank L for playing along. The real Light would have never let L see a single moment of vulnerability. He would have never admitted that the toll of this case was genuinely making him extremely stressed. He would have never apologized in that moment for punching L, admitting to him that sometimes he reacts with anger when faced with complicated emotions. No. Because the real Light laughs at others he deems beneath him, and not with them. The real Light had more brick lined walls with white lies as cement built around his true emotions. This is not Light, this is not Kira--The real Light doesn’t care about other people, the real Light only cares about himself.
And yet it was so easy to get lost in the fantasy. So easy to allow L to sink into the idea that this is who Light really is. Light is, and always will be, the hard-working honors student. He always will be charismatic and charming and clever. Light always will have a strong sense of justice. Light always will be a bit bashful and awkward when confronted with any embarrassing emotions. It’s easy to look at Light that way. It is easy to see Light the way his family, the way the task force, and the way the world sees Light Yagami. Of course it is easy. It is easy to ignore red flags when you are looking at a monster through rose-colored glasses.
L watches Light balance his heels against the wall, attempting to do a handstand for his dare, and he almost wants to stay like this with Light forever. A part of him wants to take what is given to him and keep Light like this. His emotions are at war as he needs to grapple with the fact that it would be selfish to quit now. L knows deep down that there is a good chance will die at Kira’s hand, and a large part of him dreads the moment he sees Light behind Kira’s eyes as he closes his for the last time.
Kick his heels against the wall, he tries the handstand as well. The blood rushing to his head does help L clear his head a bit. He looks at Light, sitting on the floor but hanging off the ceiling, small chuckles escaping from his lips but nodding, telling L that he is impressed.
L scoffs, but not because of Light’s seemingly patronizing comment (which was most likely sincere). It is so easy to love Light like this. But he doesn’t think that he could ever truly love Light without everything else. Without the dubious morality, without the knowing smirks and mental chess, without Kira . Loving Light like this is easy, but L hates easy.
“Wow, you’re surprisingly flexible,” Light told him, L huffed out an exhausted breath when his feet finally touched the ground again.
“Thanks, my joints aren’t exactly what they used to be, but I am glad I could still do that,” L grabbed a teacup off of the coffee table and sipped the contents of the mug. Cold.
Light shook his head, “Well, maybe if you didn’t pull your knees up when you sit and crouch like this … you would have an easier time,” He pulled his legs away from his chest and sat cross legged.
L simply rolled his eyes in response, “I sit as I want, and still only struggled slightly more than you, despite being over half a decade older than you. I would be more concerned with your flexibility then commenting on my habits,”
Shaking his head, Light threw a pillow at L’s face, “I don’t like when you say it like that, Ryuzaki,”
“It doesn’t matter what you like and not, I am simply stating the truth,”  L cocked his head to the side, “Not to say that you do not have your strengths as well,” Hooking his finger in his mouth, his eyes trailed over Light’s toned biceps and broad shoulders, “Those years of tennis are still owing you favors it seems. No wonder you are so popular…”
L trailed off, eyes still trailing over Light’s figure, the latter now rubbing the back of his neck, “I hope that is not the only reason… And the attention isn’t always… great…”
L hummed, “I am sure Misa-Misa is not the biggest fan of all the attention you garner from other women,” Light did not respond and L narrowed his eyes at him. The other man refused to make eye contact with him. His fingers were twitching and there was a faint redness on his cheeks that was certainly not from the previous physical activity. L clicked his tongue, “Why do you not like Misa?”
Light was pulled out of his own head, “What?”
“That is my truth or dare question.”
“What if I pick dare?”
“Then I dare you to tell me the truth.”
Light frowned, glaring at L. The two locked eyes for a brief moment and it was hard to tell what Light was thinking.
“ He really does have pretty eyes ,” L thought, “ Iris that are too brown to be red, but when they hit the light just right, it is the opposite, with golden flecks dancing around the pupils …”
“I don’t dislike Misa, it’s just…” Light sighed, leaning back on his hands, “I am just not interested in her-- romantically that is-- and I have informed her multiple times of my feelings but… She does not seem to listen, or more likely she does not care,” Light bit his lip, looking down at the carpet. L subconsciously followed the same action, “It is difficult to be around someone who doesn’t seem to listen or respect your wishes.”
“I see. I apologise that you have to be around me so much then, Light.”
Light looked up at him and frowned, either confused or simply playing dumb. L took his finger from his mouth and shook his wrist, the chain rattling. In response, he rolled his eyes, “That is different, Ryuzaki.”
“Oh?”
Light nodded, “You are not doing this because you want to, this is for the Kira investigation. This situation benefits both of us. I get to prove to you that I am not Kira, and you get your suspicions of me assuaged. I never really agreed to be Misa’s boyfriend.”
“I see.”
“Besides,” Light chuckled slightly, “It is much easier to have a conversation with you than with her,” He closed his eyes, and shook his head. L watched carefully as his hair fell over his eyes, “And even without the overbearingness, I could never see myself dating someone like her.”
L leaned forward. Anyone with worse balance than himself would have most likely fallen on their face, but he was hooked onto every word coming out of Light’s mouth-- pure voyeuristic curiosity getting the better of him, “What does Light look for in a partner?”
Light’s expression shifted. He was not uncomfortable, L determined, but his eyebrow was raised and eyes narrowed, looking suspiciously at L, “Does it matter?”
“This is truth or dare. This is a truth question.”
“You already went.”
“I am going again.”
“Have you ever played this before?”
“You can do two in a row for me.”
Light shifted on the floor slightly, sighing, “Fine,” He uncrossed his legs and stretched them out in front of him. He looked up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. L thought as well. What kind of person is Light Yagami? What does he want in a person? Surely if he is going to bring another person into his life, in a close intimate way… Is that someone he even wants? Human connection is essential for survival, but for Light, one needs to think more critically. What does he get out of it?
“This is hard,” Light muttered, “I don’t know. I suppose I want what anyone wants… Someone kind and honorable, probably intelligent as well. A person who shares interests with me, something like that I suppose.”
L said nothing for a while. He pressed his thumb against his lips, critically staring at Light. He narrowed his eyes, “That is incorrect.”
“Excuse me?”
“I asked you a question, and you refused to give me a truthful answer. For once, stop lying, Light, you are not very good at it.”
Light eyes flashed red for a moment, and he leapt to his feet, staring down at L still sat on the floor, “What the hell are you talking about? You asked me a question and I answered it when I didn’t even have to, now you’re saying that I am lying about what I told you?”
“That is exactly what I am saying, yes,” Light balled up his fists, and L instinctively steeled himself for an oncoming punch. He would not be able to react if he hit him from this angle, but there is a possible countermove he could make one he gets to Light’s level playing field. Though, instead of a punch, Light yanked the chain, hard, forcing L to his feet. L yelped, his balance unsteady and he felt as though he would trip and end up on the ground again at any moment. He only had to worry about that briefly, as Light balled up the front of L’s shirt and harshly pinned him to an opposing wall.
Light’s hands were pressed hotly against his chest, his knuckles digging into his sternum. He was sure he could feel how fast L’s heart was beating, and he prayed to God that Light assumed it was fear and adrenaline.
“I am not Kira, Ryuzaki, I know that’s what you’re thinking!” Light yelled in his face, the previous clean smell of aftershave was replaced with sweat and anger, “What, you think I am some heartless serial killer so I just want someone I could manipulate, or hurt? After all this time is that how little you think of me? You really think I cannot care about anyone?”
Light’s diction was filled with rage, and he tried to take that simply at face value, but L could sense the trepidation behind the words. Stripping them of their anger and removing Light from his aggressive position, they take on a new meaning.
“I am not Kira, Ryuzaki, I know that’s what you’re thinking!” Is that really all you see me as?
“...some heartless serial killer..” Have I not done enough to make you believe me?
“...don’t just want someone I could manipulate, or hurt…” I am a good person.
“ After all this time…” We are together 24/7 and you still don’t get it.
“...how little you think of me?” I am not made of ice, Ryuzaki. It hurts that you think of me this way.
“You really think I cannot care about anyone?” I have feelings. I care about people.
L’s breath was shallow at the close contact between them. He swallowed, choosing his words carefully, “I am not saying that, I am saying your reasoning is not entirely accurate. That is the surface level answer I would expect from a 12 year old. Light demands something more for his relationships. If you didn’t, then there are hundreds of intelligent, honorable people in Japan that you could easily be attracted to. But you are not, so what is missing for you? What makes you want to grow close to another person?”
Light’s hands balled even tighter, L could feel the stretching of the fabric around his shoulders and neck-- it dug into him uncomfortably, but the physical pain could easily be ignored in favor of the tinder in Light’s eyes, “ It’s not as simple as that! Who knows what anyone wants. Besides, how can you even ask that question? What do you even want?”
L shrugged simply, “I do not desire a relationship.”
“Liar.”
“Excuse me?”
Light smirked, “See how it feels?” L rolled his eyes, tired of Light’s petty actions. He squirmed to break free, but Light’s hold on him against the wall was too strong. It was only now that he was cursing the years of tennis and his taut biceps.
“You are behaving like a child.”
“Pot, meet kettle,” Light snarled, clearly losing his patience, “I did my best to answer, and that clearly wasn’t good enough. You aren’t even trying.”
“Why does it even matter, Light? It is a stupid question to begin with,” L muttered, desperately needing Light to move away from him. L needs to not be able to see the light dusting of freckles across Light’s cheeks and how his hair was curling up at the ends slightly or the traces of loose leaf tea on his breath or the equally shallow breaths coming from him holding L in place-- every one of his senses was being overwhelmed and the circuit was going to overload.
“Because, Ryuzaki, we are playing a game. Now play.”
L opened his mouth and closed it. He pursed his lips, “Fine. I do not desire a relationship because most people bore me,” Light’s expression softened, but his wide eyes narrowed in suspicion, “I meet others who are passably attractive and their traits are so transparent it doesn’t excite me. It doesn’t make me feel anything. If for whatever reason I were to want to have any kind of relationship, it would need to be exciting. I don’t do easy-- I want a challenge. A person who doesn’t challenge me I have no interest in keeping around long term,” Light’s grip loosened slowly. L sucked on his lower lip. “I need someone to keep me interested. Keep me on my toes. I want someone who tests me, who I can be in opposition with, but also who I can see as an equal. As shallow as it sounds, simplicity is not attractive. I do not believe I could ever find myself a partner, because just by existing, as L, I am a challenge,”
Light let go of L’s shirt, but simply stood in front of him for a while. He didn’t say anything, just stared at the other man with an unreadable expression, like he was emotionally undressing L.
“I see,” Light said, “That makes a lot of sense.”
L quirked up an eyebrow, “Really? Because most people would not say they want a pugnacious partnership like myself.”
“Well, you do not seem to be the type for domesticity.”
Light awkwardly dropped his hands to his side. It was moments like these that L remember that Light, well this Light, was still just an bright student who didn’t have much experience with dating, or possibly any kind of relationship at all. But still, if he prods enough…
“So, what about you?” L asked simply. Light looked at him and then pointedly stared out the window, “Well, there is no need to be shy now. You wanted me to open up, and now it is only fair,” L took a step closer to Light, instinctively biting his nail, “Besides, we are playing a game, aren’t we?”
“Well-”
“So tell me. I am morbidly curious,” L teased, hoping it would pull back some of the awkwardness, but it has no effect on Light’s overall demeanor.
Light sighed, running a hand through his hair, the chain rattling in its wake, “I obviously have… Desires. They are just the wrong… The wrong kind.”
Cocking his head, L frowned, “Please clarify.”
“The things I want, and what I can have are different. I don’t break rules on purpose-” L held back his comments, “- and I do my best to do what I think is right. But sometimes I do things just because… Well I feel like I should. And it is what is expected of me. My desires would be crossing every line…”
Light rubbed the back of his neck and stared off and out the window, his mind clearly somewhere else. L’s mind was also analyzing Light’s words. Desires… What does Light desire? He says it as if it is something uncouth, something forbidden. What is out of his reach? What motivates him? What gets him out of bed in the morning? What would Light kill for? Sacrifice himself for? What would Light put everything on the line for?
“What exactly do you want that your mind has deemed so wrong?” L asked.
Light shook his head and turned away from L, “No, I am not telling you.”
“Why not?”
“It will simply make everything worse.”
L raised an eyebrow, prodding more, “Light, you are my prime suspect in the largest murder case in recorded history; unless these desires are bloodlust, I doubt you can make anything worse.”
“Ryuzaki, enough, I am not saying.”
“And why not?”
Light turned around to face him, taking a step closer, “Why do you even care?”
L took a step towards Light, “Just for my own edification.” Lie. “Besides, you made me share and do things I did not want to.”
Light pushed a finger into L’s chest and slowly walked him back against the wall, “I do not owe you anything, Ryuzaki.”
“Of course not,” L grinned wildly, “But we are still playing a game.”
“No.”
“Truth or dare, Light?”
“Neither.”
L blinked slowly and tilted his head, “Then I guess you lose.”
Light scoffed, “Who is behaving like a child now?”
“Still you, somehow,” L smiled, and he watched Light grow more and more furious. It wasn’t as though he enjoyed pressing Light’s buttons, but he cannot lie and say it is fun to see the reaction of the typically calm and collected golden child come undone; it is refreshing to see the perfection mask slip every now and again. And when it did, L would be ready.
“I am not playing any more.”
“Forfeiting is still losing.” L smirked, and Light gripped the front of L’s shirt again, pushing him against the wall. The taunting brought back memories to the Lind L. Tailor ploy: laughing at Kira from miles away, begging him to try to kill him even though at that point L knew there was nothing Kira could do. Waiting for his next move. Waiting...
“Stop acting entitled, I don’t have to tell you,” Light’s breath was becoming more shallow, he was nearing his breaking point.
“Why don’t you just play the game?”
“It’s not just a game, Ryuzaki!”
“So, you’re admitting to losing?”
“Shut up.” Light warned him, the grip on L’s shirt becoming deadly.
L shrugged the best he could, “I didn’t realise that Light could fail so outstandingly at a party game.”
“Shut up!” He was desperate now. He was pleading. L wanted more.
“I would have thought that Light could just lie his way out of any situation,��� He pressed a thumb to his lips, “He does seem to do it a lot.”
“Ryuzaki, I am warning you!” Light anger was almost at its peak. He was unraveling. L needed to push just a bit further. He was going to poke and prod and wind Light up. He needed to tear away all his layers until Kira stared back at him.
“Warning me of what, exactly?” L asked calmly.
Light pulled L towards him briefly before slamming him back into the wall, face mere inches away from his. His pupils were blown out and sweat sheened on his forehead and upper lip, “Shut up, before I shut you up.”
L chuckled lightly, before gazing hard into Light’s eyes, “I dare you to try.”
A challenge. L left it dangling in front of Light. He sweated out those painful seconds that felt like hours, waiting for when the bend became the break. What does Light Yagami do when his pushes turn to shoves? L braced for impact. He waited for knowing smirk, or a kick to the jaw, or a shove to the ground. He looked through Light’s eyes and waited for those too brown eyes to shift to familiar red.
When Light cupped both of his cheeks, and pressed his lips against, L’s he still waited. He waited for the punch. He waited for the slap. He waited. L waited as he pressed his lips back against Light’s, the other man softly sighing as he loosened his grip of the white shirt. L expected a harsher tug when Light threaded his hands through his messy black curls. L was waiting for the catch, waiting for the cruelty.
Light tilted L’s head to the side, kissing up and down his pale neck, “Is this ok?” He mutters into L’s ear, pressing a brief peck to the lobe of his ear.  His subconscious was shaking him, telling him none of this is real , but Light’s lips were on his neck and roaming over his chest, and actions speak louder than words.
“Yeah… This is good,” L told him, breathy. If L didn't have it before, that was all the definitive proof he needed that this was almost-but-not-quite Light. Light is not the type to ask permission. Light takes and he takes. He consumes unapologetically, and has to be told to stop, rather than need permission to continue. There is something to be said in respect to the morality of messing around with someone who is not quite the same person as they used to be. L knows that Kira would never tenderly kiss him or softly suck love bites into the junction of his neck and shoulder, though it is undetermined if Kira desired him in any way other than in a coffin.
Light led him to their bed, and L should have stopped Light then, but he didn’t. As L unbuttoned Light’s pyjama shirt, he wondered what it would be like with Kira. What would Kira want? What does Kira desire out of a partner?
Light straddled his waist, and L’s wandering hands make their way up to his hips. Grabbing his wrists, Light pins L down to the bed. L groans in response and Light licks a stripe up his neck, softly kissing him before biting down on his bottom lip. L makes a noise he would typically be embarrassed by, but it’s ok, because Light is already hard.
“Control ,” he determined. Kira would never submit to anyone. He sees others as lower than himself, and he would never have the displeasure of anyone having authority over him. Kira would make his partners say his name over and over again, or call him “sir” or better yet, “God”. He would want a partner he could manipulate like putty in his hands.
Letting go of his pinned wrists, Light lifted L’s shirt and latched his mouth onto L’s nipple, licking at it slowly. L’s hands found their way to his waist, and he pushed Light’s hips down and he grinded their hard-ons against one another. L’s only wish was that Light’s moan in response was not muffled by his lips against his chest. He could only imagine the sound unabashed was heavenly.
Light sat up, and towered over L, a dangerous look on his face. L chuckled, hooking his index finger in his mouth as he spoke, “It is no fun if you are the only one in control,”
Smirking, Light attached himself to L nipple again, but instead biting down as he pressed his hips against L’s. He gasped at the action, and he could feel Light’s smirk.
“ No, that’s not right ,” L thought. Kira doesn’t like easy. Kira like a challenge. He doesn’t care about the people bending to his will. He’s met all of L’s challenges head on, it would make sense that Kira would want a little resistance. Kira would never let it go too far, taking charge in the end, but if Kira was to dominate, he wouldn’t want a submissive partner to simply do what he says: Kira would want to earn it.
Light made his way to L’s sweats, and pulled them down with a quick tug, his hard cock straining against his boxers. He palmed L through the cloth, and swallowed his moans by shoving his tongue in L’s mouth.
L was writhing underneath Light, all his nerves were alight with feeling the man everywhere on top of him. He ran his blunt nails against Light’s back. Light breathed in harshly through his nose and a low moan came from the back of his throat.
“Rough,” L mentally added to the list. Kira was the type of man who was not gentle about anything. Though, neither was L. He imagined getting fucked by Kira had a lot of bruises and scratches. He imagined the scratches would be rough and deep, leaving scars from the claws sinking into your skin. Harsh bites to the lip would draw blood-- a thick and metallic flavor that would make him dizzy, though you can’t drip nectar over his tongue and expect L to not love the taste.
He stripped L of his boxers, and L shivered slightly at the cool air. Light paused for a moment, and looked up at L, “I, uh, I have never done this before,” Light stared at L with his too-brown eyes, all wide and innocent, asking for help. L had to swallow down the part of him that wishes that it was still all an act. He sat up, and ran a hand through Light’s hair, kissing him and telling him it was ok, and that he would tell him what to do.
“Praise,” He added. Kira was a man who wanted to be a God. All Gods want to be revered, and it should be no different for Kira. Here was a man who wanted so badly for the world to know of his existence that he is risking the electric chair in order to be seen. He bends his idea of justice just to keep his reign intact-- that is the kind of man who wants a partner to tell them that he is perfect. To let Kira know that he is so smart, so handsome, so good . Yes, Kira is a principled man who doesn’t see he is evil. He wanted to be told he is good.
L’s head fell on Light’s shoulder, writhing and moaning in his lap. Light’s hands twisted up and down L’s cock. Light used his thumb and focused on L’s head, smearing the precum around it before returning to his steady motions.
“Yeah, you got it,” L moaned in Light’s ear, “I didn’t have to give you much direction at all. You’re doing so well, Light,”
L could hear a faint whimper from Light, and he bit into the junction between his shoulder and neck, imagining that under all the collars and button ups that Kira-- Light--- they dreamed of hiding a love mark there.
In a quick flurry of motions and direction, L moved Light out of his pants and boxers, and began slowly stroking him as well. Light paused his motions and gasped, digging his nails into L’s hips. L reasoned that it would not take much to make him come at all.
“Fuck, Ryuzaki…” Light said, low but rushed.
L hummed, using more spit and applying more pressure to his grip, Light’s eyes rolling to the back of his head, the gasps and whimpers increasing in volume and frequency.
“You’re so responsive,” L observed, pressing feather light kisses to Light’s neck that made him whine, “So sensitive…”
“W-well yeah, that makes sense.” Light ran his nails across L’s thighs, his well manicured ones were sure to leave pretty red marks.
L tilted his head to the side, “I wonder what would happen…” He questioned, and before Light could respond, L pushed him down on the bed, and took his cock in his mouth. L deep throated his entire length before focusing his attention to the head, moving his hands around Light’s cock in tandem with his licks.
Light threw his head back, one step removed from screaming as he begged loud enough for the whole floor to hear (not that there was anyone around).
L took Light’s cock again fully in his mouth, and that was enough to have Light coming, tightly gripping his hair and L’s name on his lips. L pulled off of him after swallowing and kissed Light softly on the lips. It almost felt wrong.
“You didn’t come.”
“It’s ok, I’ll be fine.”
Light’s eyes were wide, “I want to make you come.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t think I could do what you just did though.”
“That’s ok,” L brushed the brown hair out of Light’s eyes. His all-too-brown eyes. “You can just use your hands if you want.”
Light was beautiful, and it was easy to love Light like this. Easy to love Light when he was taking care of L. Licking his hand to keep his cock slick, seeing him bite his lip with every drop of praise-- not that L minds calling Light a good boy, or telling him that he is doing great for his first time and that he is making L feel so good.
Light kissed him like he meant it, his tongue brushing against L’s, inexperienced and messy but still erotic and tender. He kissed L’s neck as he warned Light that he was close, because of course he already picked up that that was one of L’s most sensitive spots. L couldn’t even bring himself to be shocked, because Light is just that brillant.
“Light… Light …” L whimpered his name as he came, moaning and pulling his hair. Light wiped the come off of his hand and onto the sheets. L was still panting, coming down from his peak, and Light kissed him softly on the lips. L cupped his cheek and kissed him back, feeling as though this kiss was the greatest line crossed tonight.
L threaded his hands through Light’s all-too perfect hair, holding him as they both settled down, the adrenaline previously running through their veins beginning to seep out. Light traced patterns across L’s neck, and L kissed his temple.
He tilted Light’s chin up and looked into those wide innocent eyes. L prayed that Kira was behind them, but he only saw Light Yagami. Perfect Light Yagami, not the monster Kira. The type of monster that is the only one that could love L completely. L felt like Light is the real victim here.
And yet, he still pulled Light in for another tender kiss, his grapple with his own morality was overpowered by the desperation to feel his lips against Light’s once more. Just once more. And once more…
Each kiss with Light felt like a burn, and L knew that any of those could be their last, but he really would not have minded if he was fully consumed by the flames.
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59writes · 3 years
Text
THE DRAW (PART ONE)
(PART TWO)
if you’re reading this as like an actual fic: first of all I’m sorry. how did you end up here. it’s most definitely 2 am go to bed. this fic was literally made because of a fucking uquiz about “ what kpop boy are you enemies to lovers with”
second of all, ignore any chess mistakes. idk I know legit fuckall about chess, my brother just always bitches about it whenever I want to stop playing because I just have my king left or smth like that because I know I’ve lost. mf reads chess books.
like look: I UNDERSTAND the game and how it works, and the idea that you have to think ahead and plan. but I’m adhd as shit and there’s no such thing as time or planning. ergo, I suck. like I SUCK. I feel like if I applied myself I’d be great but fuck that. I’m a bad chess player and y’all gotta deal.
third: I mention League Of Legends at one point. I’m so cringe yes shut up ok but I’ve been special interest-ing League for several months now and I need to let you know that Josh, y/n, and Jeonghan play a mean jungler/adc/support combo (respectively). I have so many more headcanons typed in my draft or whatever but I know nobody wants to see it so
anyways pls enjoy this train wreck of a fic lol
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If you had known playing chess would have led to this bullshit, you never would have started playing in the first place.
You wouldn’t have worked your ass off, wouldn’t have pored through strategy books and watched live-streamed games, wouldn’t have competed for months to become an official grandmaster. Absolutely not. None of that hard work and pride deserved to be wasted on Yoon Jeonghan.
Thanks to your exceptional academics and study habits, as well as your headlining pursuits in chess, private schools crawled to your front door and begged for you to give them money just so they could brag about having you as arm candy. You didn’t care. It was free scholarships, a chance to leave your tiny town, a chance to start anew with people just like you. If you were lucky, they wouldn’t know your fame status, or would be used to the junk by now. Some would probably be even more popular than you.
So you grabbed a paper, scribbled a signature on, and packed your bags.
You had picked an academy for the arts, as logic games apparently counted as one. They figured they could do something with your whimsical essay writing as well, submit you in scholastic contests. It didn’t matter. You were free, and there to play some goddamn chess.
They had a hardcore club there, meeting daily on weekdays and occasionally for casual play on the weekends. Everyone there was excellent, all clever players with quick logic and a competitive edge that you hadn’t seen in a while. It was refreshing, but still not enough of a challenge.
You swept the floor with your classmates, and rose to the top of the club’s rankings within a week.
Of course you lost games here and there, as everyone did, but for the most part any game you began was imbalanced from the beginning. Your opponent could at best only defend themselves, only able to pick off pawns or bait bishops that inevitably ended in a brutal checkmate.
You were top of the class, and for once it took some effort. You felt like you’d earned something, and you were actually interacting with serious chess players who wanted to learn, not fawn over your work. They played fair and every game was fun.
That was until the blond bitch came in.
He sauntered into the class about a month after you’d hit the top of the leaderboard, long blond hair tied back in a neat and slick ponytail. You barely noticed, immersed in a game with another boy, Joshua. You studied the board as your opponent looked up, grinning wildly.
“Jeonghan!” He called out, waving at the other boy.
Jeonghan’s ponytail whipped across his shoulder as he turned, matching Josh’s smile with a killer beam of his own and jogging over.
“‘Shua!” He chirped, playfully wrapping an arm around Joshua’s neck, strangling him while his other hand smooshed Josh’s hair around.
You watched them wrestle for a second before clearing your throat. “Josh, your move.”
“Aw shit.” Josh says, wrestling Jeonghan’s arm away from his shoulder. “Back to the ass kicking.”
You grin. “If you hadn’t made that dumb move literally third turn in-“
“Hey! We are NOT talking about that!”
You snort and glance at Jeonghan, who’s gone quiet, studying the board. He crouches down and whispers in Josh’s ear, both of them scanning the board. Josh finally nods, pushing one of his pawns forward.
“What was that about, Hong?” You ask, capturing said pawn with a neat L from your knight.
“Nothing.” He replies sweetly, while Jeonghan smirks.
“Sure it wasn’t.”
Josh doesn’t reply. The rest of the game is tensely quiet, interrupted only by Jeonghan murmuring into Joshua’s ear every few minutes, a devil on his shoulder.
But it was fine, you were ahead by a few pieces, your bishops slowly inching towards a checkmate. The next move was it, the game in the bag.
And then your queen is gone.
Jeonghan takes the liberty of removing it from the board with a proud smile while Joshua cackles.
The game doesn’t last much longer, soon the both of you down to just pawns and your king, and then just the kings. A draw.
And let’s be honest here: Joshua kinda sucks at chess.
Josh counted it as a victory, though, hitting Jeonghan with a high five that echoed around the classroom like a firecracker. The boys talked briefly while you set up the board again for the next duo and packed your bag, ready to head to your dorm for a much-needed nap.
You wave to Joshua and turn to go, only making it a few steps before someone grabs your wrist. You whip around, ready to tell them off, only to be met with Jeonghan interrupting whatever swear you were about to say with a sharp smile.
“I’m playing you on Monday.”
He lets go of your wrist and turns around, resuming his talk with Josh as if nothing happened.
Rubbing your wrists ruefully, you headed home.
•••
Of course, his bullshit didn’t stop there.
You did, in fact, play him on Monday. He had you cornered within five minutes.
The next time, in four.
He gathered a crowd a few games in. Every time you’d meet his gaze he’d smirk, eyes brimming with some sort of superiority that made you furious, always endlessly cool and calm. He’d flick his hair over his shoulder every so often, even stopping to talk to spectators while you puzzled over the board, trying to hide your stress.
You were second place by Wednesday.
•••
“You cheated.”
Jeonghan just raises a brow.
“Put the rook back.” You growl, firm.
“Sorry?” He ignores your request, instead poking at one of your previously captured pawns he has resting on the table next to him. “Can you move? I’ve almost got checkmate.”
“My rook, Yoon.” You hold out your hand. “Give it back, or put it back yourself. H6.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you resign? If we were using a timer you’d have been disqualified sometime last week.”
It’s taking every ounce of self control to not slap the living shit out of the smug bastard. “Jeonghan, if you don’t-“
“How’s the game going here?” The chess club leader had made her way to your table, grinning widely upon seeing her favorite students.
Jeonghan smiles kindly at her while you curl in on yourself, trying not to explode. “It’s fine, Ms. Lee. Almost done with this one.”
“Are you missing a piece? Looks like the black rook-“
“Must have fallen off the table.” Jeonghan chirps, ducking under the table and returning with the piece in hand. He sets it with the rest of his captured black army, sending a thumbs up at Ms. Lee. “Thanks for noticing, we don’t need to lose any more pieces.” It’s an innocent sentence, but it makes you turn a boiling red. Lose a piece, my ass.
“Well played, both of you.” She replies, patting Jeonghan on the head fondly before walking off. The blond rolls his eyes, ducking his head so Ms. Lee can’t see.
“Jeonghan, you asshole.” You hiss as soon as Ms. Lee is out of earshot. “I saw you take it out of your pocket, you lying-“
“If you’re not moving, I’m going to.” Jeonghan replies, moving his bishop forward to capture your queen. “Checkmate. Good game.”
You can only gape as he grabs your hand to shake it and walks off, approaching Joshua.
That was when you really knew you hated him.
•••
You studied his games from then on, partially to learn, partially to gather evidence. If he was cheating this consistently with other players, you could definitely get him kicked out of the club and subsequently your life once competition season started, as well as learn and potentially steal his strategies.
Infuriatingly, though, every single game he played besides the hellish ones with you were completely fair. No pieces being slipped into his thin hands when nobody was looking, no clock taps that discreetly took a few seconds from his opponent’s timer. Even with Josh, who he was best buddies with: not even a joking steal or a prank of any kind.
It was just with you.
Every single game you played together, he managed to do something to piss you off, if not blatantly cheat. If it was one of the days you had spectators, his harassment would come in the form of heavy looks and obnoxious “I’m waiting”-esque moves: tapping his nails on the desk, raising a brow, checking his watch.
And if you were alone, you basically had to glue your pieces down to the board to stop them from slipping their way into his pockets. It was obvious when he did it, too, always sending you a smile, too innocent.
It was infuriatingly adorable how proud he was of his nasty behavior. And he was focused too: none of his other opponents got the thought and effort he put into outwitting you and attempting to steal things without you noticing. As much as you hated him, you had to admire it.
Which is why it was so hard to finally draw a line and refuse to play with him anymore.
Though he shrugged when you put your foot down, his dark eyes watched you the rest of that club session. Every time you caught him, he held your gaze for a moment before looking away and resuming cheerfully animated conversation with his opponent.
God, how was he so easily likeable?
He respected your decision, though, and didn’t even attempt to talk to you. It was genuinely polar and strange, and it made you lost in thought as the months passed.
You almost missed the absence of anger, as stupid as it was. School had always been boring and simple, and chess with Jeonghan was the only thing to have made you frustrated in a long time, to have truly challenged you in a long time.
Even when you buckled down on trying to get him out of your head, he seemed to follow- being friends with Joshua (and honestly most of the other club members) almost always devolved into chats about the club and “why aren’t you playing Jeonghan anymore?”. Josh often suggested playing video games with the two of them, and you had to refuse (although playing League with Josh was so fun).
It was lonely.
Stupid Jeonghan.
•••
Finally, tournament season started.
Following (what was apparently) club tradition, the entire team dyed their hair between practices. You settled with a simple streak of blue that was stolen from Josh (he went completely teal, the madman).
The next day, Jeonghan came to practice with his blond ponytail gone, replaced by a dark brown undercut, hair bluntly chopped to end around his jaw.
Unfortunately, it suited him.
He saved a blond spot for a bit of Josh’s blue, however, and Josh dyed it for him in the middle of the clubroom, laughing the whole time. They’d planned it, clearly, as you were pretty sure Josh didn’t just carry around dye in his backpack.
Which means he knew you two would match when he did your hair.
It was confirmed by an apologetic shrug when you cornered him while he threw away the dye-stained gloves.
“Give him a chance, please y/n?”
“Hong Jisoo. You know how I feel about that dumbass-“
“y/n-“
“Why are you so insistent on having us talk again? He’s a two-faced-“
“y/n, you’d like him. He’s funny, and genuinely nice. I don’t know why he was acting like that with you, but that was almost three months ago. Give him a chance.”
“You should be glad I like you, you stupid fucking rat.”
Josh laughs as you walk away, fuming.
Unfortunately, you did like that stupid fucking rat, and so when he offered dinner after an out-of-state tournament (he pinky swore he’d pay) you finally gave in.
Jeonghan coming?
lol yea
that ok?
not rlly
I’ll give him a chance tho
:D thank u
you owe me
I’m buying ur food :(
josh we r literally getting fast food
you owe me
lol k >:)
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bapyess1r · 4 years
Text
Head Over Heels
4. Head Over Heels
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Joe’s POV
I stared at the Bob Marley lighter, twiddling it between my fingers. Now and then I’d look at the girl’s number and smile. I quite liked her. “Samira…” I read aloud as I ran my thumb across her number.
“Joe boy!” My friend Craig snapped his fingers in front of my face, yanking me out my trance. I looked up at his joyful, gap toothed smile and snickered as Mark slapped a heavy hand on me shoulder, letting out a deep, guttural laugh. After Mark and I left McMullen’s, we met up with another mate at another pub. This one was a bit more fun; cornhole, table tennis, giant chess, giant jenga. Of course we went! And I was having a great time until we sat down for a breather and I started thinking about Samira. “Mate, this girl has you whipped huh?” He asked.
When I thought about it, she kinda did have me spinning. I smiled thinking about her dark coily hair and her eyes and the shape of her lips when she cracked a smile. I felt the warm n’ fuzzies! It was not at all natural to my habits to be this whipped but she made me wanna get used to it.
“What was her name again, bruv?” Mark asked.
“Samira.” I said quite proudly. I deserved a fucking gold star for that one I tell ya!
“So! You got a girl’s number! Stop gawkin’ at the number and start drinkin’!” Craig chimed in, grabbing his beer and chugging easily. I smirked and picked up my own pint. I was so bolloxed that I could barely hold the glass up to begin with. But still I clinked glasses with my friends and down my entire beer in one sit.
“I’m ready fer liquor now- oi, waiter! Might I get… a bottle o’ whiskey, please.” I said, stopping a waitress as she skipped by. I had so many feelings about this. Not only did I get a girl’s number, I had real feelings for her. It’s worrying because…. “Who would like a bloke like me, eh?” I thought aloud again, staring into my glass.
“Mate, not this again-” Craig started up.
“Alright look bruv, do you like her?” Mark asked, shushing up our friend.
“Aye….”
“And you wanna see her again, yeah?”
“Yeah, I do, mate.”
“And you have her number?”
“For fucksake, mate, yes!”
“So then pick up the bloody phone and god damn call her!” He shouted, snapping his fingers in my face.
“Honestly, Joe, she wouldn’t have given you her number if she didn’t like ya.” Craig added. I took a long sigh and stared at my feet for a moment.
“I’ve gotta get super drunk fer that first, mate! She uh….. She’s very uh….”
“My god…. she makes you nervous-” I groaned and waved him off as the waitress arrived with my whiskey. Immediately, I twisted the cap and chugged a lot of it. “She does! She makes ya nervous!”
“Okay so what!? I’m gonna call her- I just…. I dunno what on earth I’m gonna say to her.” I sighed, shaking my head. The alcohol was starting to take effect and gravity seemed to almost defy me in every way.
“Just say you wanna do brekkie in the mornin’.” Craig said, gulping down the last of his pint. I nodded my head, sipping my whisky bottle like a soda.
“I’mna do it, mate….. I’ve gotta do it, innit?” I said, trying my best to work myself up to the challenge. I stood up to get my balance back and drunkenly hopped over the railing that closed us in. I grabbed my bottle and unlocked my phone as I walked down the street of the quiet town.
“Good luck, bruv!” Mark shouted making me laugh a bit.
I typed in the number from the back of the lighter and let my finger hover over the call button. I had to do it…. there was only but so many times I can meet someone and push them away. I had to try… With a deep breath and a swig of liquid courage, I called her. My heart raced as I anticipated hearing her voice on the other end.
“Hello?” The sudden click made my heart stop a moment and at the sound of her voice, my brain went blank. “Hellooo???”
“Oi! Is a….is this Samira?” I asked, snapping myself out of my drunken trance. Then I sighed. “Sorry, that was a um… a dumb question- of course it you. T-This is Joe. Ya smoked a joint wit me on the roof at the pub?” I suddenly started to babble absolute nonsense and I mentally kicked myself for it.
“I’m sorry who?” The voice said. My heart dropped.
“I-I um…...erm…. It’s- I’m soo sorry-”
“I’m fuckin’ with you.” She said with a light airy laugh. I gave a big audible dramatic sigh of relief and took a sip of whisky.
“Jesus! I’m so glad! I’m too drunk to cover me arse right about now…” I chuckled.
“You’re still drinking?” She asked.
“Okay, Judgy McJudgerson!” I joked.
“I’m not judging! I just….. I didn’t think you’d call.”
“Why on earth would I not?” I said sincerely, staring up at the star pierced night sky.
“I dunno…”
“I couldn’t stop t’inkin’ about ya since you left wit yer mates…. I hope that’s not creepy-”
“No! That’s um…. really nice of you. Honestly…” she sounded flattered on the other end and I smiled thinking about her smile.
“So um…. I’m callin’ because erm… I wanted to know if maybe you’d wanna have breakfast wit me tomorrow mornin’ or…. or lunch if you’re not a mornin’ person…. I’m not- but I’d still want to do breakfast… if you wanted to…” There I was, babbling again. “I could show you around town if you’d like….”
“Sure! That sounds nice, Joe.”
“Yeah? Nice! Then I….can pick you up?”
“Is 11 ok?”
“Brunch time! Sounds perfect…”
“I’ll send the address! I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yeah of course! And I’ll um….slow down on the drinkin’ then.” I said with a brief chuckle, taking another swig of whisky.
“Are you gonna be okay getting home?” She asked me as I spun around a few times in the street, walking aimlessly as I listened to her voice.
“I t’ink I’ll be alright, love, t’anks.” I laughed, stumbling a bit as I tripped over my feet.
“Hm…. okay. If you need anything let me know-”
“You’re so attentive…” I blurted out in a brief spurt of drunkenness. She gave a small goofy goober laugh and it made me grin from ear to ear as I walked down the street, not even noticing the pothole ahead. I stepped straight in it, losing my footing and stumbling straight into a nearby ditch with a slight holler, head over heels. I didn’t dare let go of my phone though.
“Joe? Joe?! You good over there?” I heard her say from the speaker. I pat my body down to make sure I was still in one piece and laid my head back down with laughter full of embarrassment.
“Yeah, lass, I’m still here. Hope nobody saw that.” I chuckled as I climbed out of the ditch.
“Are you okay?” She giggled.
“Just fine. I fell over but no mud. Just a spot of dirt…” I said looking down at my now completely dirty body. I dusted myself off and wiped my face with my sleeve.
“Alright well….. Honey is currently being annoying and tapping his watch. We’re supposed to be drunkenly watching a movie.” she chuckled.
“Sounds like a blast. I won’t keep ya… Goodnight, Samira.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, Joe.” she said in a rather sweet tone. And with that, she hung up. I punched in the air like an absolute idiot and ran back to my friends. I felt like a weight had been lifted.
“GUYS! GUYS! I’VE DONE IT! I’ve done it, I got a date!” I exclaimed and we began our night of celebration.
Samira’s POV
“Who the bloody hell was that? Callin’ at this hour?” Maura scowled, twisting her long brown hair into a messy bun. Brazil came into the living room from her shower followed by Jooheon just as Maura took a seat opposite me on the couch.
“That was Joe.” I said trying not to seem like I was nervous. The girls mewed cutely and Jooheon of course whined as he followed Brazil to the kitchen to fix himself a sandwich.
“AiYah! Does this guy have any respect for sleepy time hours?” He commented, wincing at the mention of Joe. Brazil rolled her eyes and smacked her lips, pushing his head with her freshly done nails.
“Boy, if you don’t leave that man alone!” She snapped.
“I just don’t want her to get hurt! It’s been a while but Javi’s still fresh. I wanna make sure you take your time, y’know- and we don’t even know this guy to begin with! Maura, back me up here, man! C’mon…” Jooheon replied defensively.
Maura responded in a laidback light, picking at her nails. “I don’t know, Honey. He seems like an alright feller to me. He was nice enough… and cute in like a…. Fashionable hobo kinda way-”
“There’s no way he’s not a hobo-” he retorted pointing at me. I scoffed.
“Jooheon, he is not a hobo!”
“He’s a fucking hobo.” He mumbled to Brazil before taking his sandwich to the dining table and she chuckled a bit at his paranoid nonsense.
“How was it talkin’ with him?” Maura asked. Jooheon groaned in the background but he was heavily ignored.
“He is so fucking funny! Like it should be a sin to be as funny as he is. And he’s very sweet. He’s got this romantic side to him from what I could tell over the phone… He’s just a dork and it’s precious as fuck-”
“Buuut?” Brazil added, pulling a box of tea from the cabinet.
“..... I’m not ready to trust anyone like that again yet.” It frightened me, falling in love again. I was with Javi for so long and I thought I grew as a person throughout our relationship. Unfortunately, I was a complete idiot the entire time. I’m still the same piece of trash I was in high school. I was anxious and I was tired. Mostly nervous about breakfast with Joe. I don’t even know what to say to him… He’s kinda intimidating but such a marshmallow at the same time. I couldn’t let myself get wrapped up in something serious.
“So let him know that and take it slow. You are the one in control of this experience.” She said, filling up her massive water bottle.
“And take it slow slow. Like waaay slow-” Jooheon interjected with a mouthful of sandwich.
“Christ, Honey! She’s not a nun!” Maura chuckled looking up from her phone. Once again, she and Jooheon began their bickering. If I didn’t know them, I’d mistake them for a married couple. It suddenly became too much and I stood with a stretch and a yawn.
“OKAY guys!” I shouted above them, causing them to quiet. “I’m going to sleep. I have a date in the morning…” With that, I briskly walked down the dark colored hardwood floor hallway into my room and shut my door, locking it behind me with a fierce need to be alone.
Author’s Note: I just wanna say I’m really sorry for the ridiculously long hiatus lol I haven’t been doing very well here and I’m trying my best to work on myself. Hopefully my brain block doesn’t last this long again and I can keep bringing you content! Please keep reading 💖
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dreamthinkimagine · 5 years
Text
It Was Good and Bad
WARNING : Mention of alcohol consumption
WARNING: Angst
For @amazingmsme - Happy Belated Birthday!
Chekov had been a lot of things. A Russian. A navigator. A good man. And the youngest person on the Bridge.
That was both good and bad.
On the one hand, he made history because of his position and age along side his young Captain. On the other hand, because of his age, he was often the butt of the joke.
See? Good and bad.
His age gifted him with a great amount of energy and enthusiasm for missions, but Kirk insisted that he was simply “too young” to do certain things on missions; such as handling sensitive love situations.
Again - both good and bad.
Recently there had been nothing going on, and while that was bad for Jim, it was good for Chekov...and bad.
12 days. It had been 12 days since any excitement. Normally, Jim would have been thrilled, but he had grown accustomed to the chaos that they had continually encountered for the past several months. It felt odd to not have his adrenaline kicking in - his muscles would spasm. It felt weird not to have to race against the clock - instead, time significantly slowed. It felt unusual for his crew to be acting calm. Heck, even McCoy let his guard down and was relaxing - taking Spock’s insults as a grain of salt. He hungered for the thrill that was nonexistent and thirsted for the activity that was not there.
It was boring. For the first time in months, Jim Kirk was bored.
Sure Jim had resorted to his usual teasing of crew to try to pass the time. Whenever McCoy offered to get him a drink, he’d say with a smirk, “Why, Bones, I thought you were a doctor, not a waiter.” Or he’d make an ear joke around Spock and when he was ignored, Kirk would add, “Can’t think of a comeback? Are your ears sharper than your wit?” Then he’d slap him on the back to show he was joking. He’d make drinking jokes to Scotty when he saw him downing his scotch, “Watch your intake, Scotty, or you’ll go from a Scotsman to an Irishman.” But when he teased Chekov, he was always teased right back.
No one else did that. Just Chekov. It wasn’t that they were hurt by the Captain’s comments, it was just that with no missions, they could finally relax and didn’t want to disrupt it with banter. But since, it was only Chekov, this only made Kirk even more bored because the others wanted nothing to do with it. He felt it was as if they were silently telling him to knock it off and to leave them alone
Now, Jim and boredom did not go well together. They didn’t mix, like oil and water. He couldn’t just sit and relax when he felt really bored with food or a book or anything. He had to be moving; and he had to have some kind of social interaction. He couldn’t have movement alone, and he couldn’t be with friends without movement. He needed them both; it was a symbiotic relationship.
He could maybe go play chess with Spock when their shifts were over? No, not physical enough. He could go train in the gym? No; that wasn’t social enough. Unless he would wrestle. No. He only felt comfortable really training and pushing himself with Spock or Bones as his partner. He knew for a fact that Bones wouldn’t want to wrestle during the day; let alone at night. And Spock, well, Jim didn’t know what Spock did at night; but he did know that the only thing he had ever agreed to doing was chess. Jim didn’t want to intrude on what could be an important Vulcan ritual unless it was an emergency. And unfortunately, his boredom was not a big enough emergency.
Dealing with boredom as an adult was hard. Why, when Jim was a boy and he felt bored, he would just pull practical jokes on anyone near him. Anyone he saw was a potential target. Jim smiled to himself as he remembered some of the pranks he’d pulled. He’d put a fake snake in the toilet, swapped kids’ belongings at school by putting their stuff in different backpacks, prank call random people - he even got someone in Germany once. Those were fun, but there was always something missing.
However, once he used his first joy-buzzer, it was different. He started doing pranks to peoples’ faces and being there with them; only then was he truly happy. He liked seeing their reactions and laughing alongside them. Once they were both laughing, he always knew that that person was his friend. He needed camaraderie just as much as he needed air.
He yearned for the old days; all he really did now was verbally befuddle Spock and just tease Bones in general. He needed something else. He sat at his Captain’s chair trying to think of something good to do. Chekov, unlike Kirk, was completely happy with this. It was his first time really relaxing in a long time - sort of like a vacation that he desperately needed; and he wanted it to last as long as possible.
Chekov turned in his seat to tell Kirk that they were entering another galaxy - no big deal; they’d been there before. There were no distress calls from anyone and there was no mission there. It looked like they were just passing through. Boring for Kirk. That’s when he saw it - Kirk’s thinking face. This was going to be either good or bad for him. Was Kirk just think of something to do after his shift? It was no secret that Jim was bored - which was weird seeing him like that and Chekov just wished it would stop. Or was Kirk going to tease him again? Well, maybe if he just told him, he’d get distracted. He took a breath.
“Captain, we are entering the -” He stopped when Kirk looked at him and suddenly smiled a mischievous smile. He quickly looked away, breaking eye contact. “The Triangulum Galaxy.”
Kirk began to rise from his chair, “Where are we going in from?” He walked forward to the Russian’s station. “I wanna know if we need to be prepared for any funny business from the - are you alright, Mr. Chekov?” On “funny” Kirk had brought up his hand and brushed his fingers across the back of Chekov’s neck. He gasped at the feeling. Sulu, who had seen it, kept glancing over at the two; trying, and failing, to hide the smirk on his face.
“Yes, Sir.” OK, this isn’t too bad, Chekov thought to himself. Worse things have happened. He sqeaked as Kirk tapped his fingers against his collarbone.
“Are you sure?” Kirk used one finger and scratched against the back of his ribs. Chekov lunged forward. Still watching the scene, Sulu’s smirk quickly became a grin. OK, I can do this, he thought to himself. It’s just a little tickling. I mean, it was a Russian who did it first. Tickling was nice here and there, it was good to laugh. But being tickled too much was something he didn’t like; and that was not good. He had his boundaries. And with Kirk, he didn’t know if he was going to be the only target.
“Absolutely, Sir.”
“Good,” Kirk turned to go back to his chair, but not without a squeeze to his right side, making Chekov jump. Sulu’s grin grew into a full smile.
“You know,” Sulu started. “This is probably going to be going around the entire ship now.” Chekov smiled at the thought that it wouldn’t be just him. That was good.
“Yes, I believe you’re right. I guess now I have to tickle someone?” Was he supposed to get Kirk back?
“Maybe,” Sulu said while sitting back in his chair as he smiled. “But I wouldn’t be so sure that Kirk’s turn is over.”
“Why?”
“He’s eyeing Spock now.”
***
“Mr. Spock, I’d like to see you in the break room for some chess.” After his shift, Kirk passed Chekov in the hall to catch up with Spock.
“Of course, Captain.”  Was Sulu right? Could Kirk’s next "victim” be the emotionless Vulcan? Would that even work on Spock? If Spock was next, he knew that Kirk would do it when they were alone, so Spock could keep his dignity - hence the break room. That was a shame because Chekov really would like to see Spock’s reaction to tickling. It had the potential to be incredibly entertaining - or fascinating, as Spock would say. Maybe he wouldn’t react at all. Either way, he wanted to see it.
Yet, he did want some revenge from earlier even more. He smiled and called down the hall, “Run, Mr. Spock!” That was when the door to the break room closed. Oh well. Chekov jogged to the room’s wall to see if he could at least hear anything - and he was not disappointed.
On the other side of the door, Kirk and Spock sat at a table and set it all up. Kirk began playing normally, making some smart moves that would occasionally confuse the half Human, and acting as if he was completely focused on chess. However, in reality, he was consumed by the thought of his own game. He settled out every little detail in his head - where he would target his friend and how...and hoping he’d become the loser of a tickle fight in the end. When his plan was complete, all he had to do was to wait for an opportunity to begin ‘Phase I’ and start making illogical moves. Chekov was about to get up and head to the mess hall for dinner when he heard Spock’s comment.
“Captain, that is the fifth illogical move you have made in a row. Are you alright?” Jim had to use much of his strength to suppress a grin.
“Yes, Mr. Spock, I’m quite alright. And it’s Jim; we’re not working right now.”
“We have talked about this, I do not wish for anyone under any circumstances to let me win.”
“That was never on my mind.”
“Then why have you been more illogical than usual?” ‘Than usual,’ Kirk thought, He’s so gonna get it.
“Sometimes, Mr. Spock, illogic is what keeps us humans going. We can’t be quite as serious and focused all the time as Vulcans can. We get bored. And when that happens, we need to have a little fun.” Spock stared blankly at him. “Fun like this!” He immediately began ‘Phase II’ and pinched and kneaded into the First Officer’s ribs.
Outside, Chekov waited for a response. Despite the fact that earlier he was questioning if Spock was even ticklish, he had since decided to not believe he was even capable of laughing. He’d never even seen the Vulcan smile, so how was he supposed to laugh? If Kirk thought he was going to get any reaction out of Spock of all people - or Vulcans for that matter - then he was sorely -
“Cahahaptain!” No. Way. Chekov pressed his head slightly harder against the wall.
Kirk kept at his ribs for a little bit longer before switching to his underarms after Spock tried to grab his wrists. As expected, Spock’s arms went down to his sides, pressing against them. Kirk knew he wouldn’t be able to pry his arms from his sides even if he tried; so it was surprising that he still had circulation in his hands. This meant that Spock was doing his hardest to not press down to hard on his Captain. Jim smiled, happy that Spock was clearly trying not to hurt him - Vulcan strength and all - but that didn’t stop his playing.
“Hahahahaha! Jihihihihihim!”
“Yes, Spock?” Kirk asked and quickly began pinching one armpit while lightly and quickly scritching his fingers on Spock’s skin with the other - not to mention occasionally digging in with one or both hands.
“Stohohohohop!” Chekov couldn’t believe his ears. A few feet away, Kirk  was tickling a Vulcan into oblivion.
“You want me to stop tickling your armpits, Spock?” Spock quickly nodded his head through his laughter, his dimples showing. He pushed his legs against the table trying to push himself further back and out of his Captain’s grasp. “Okay,” and with that Kirk pulled his hands out and went for his neck.
“Eeehehehehehehe,” Spock immediately scrunched his shoulders up to his jaw in an attempt to block the sensation. His head moved back and forth - as if that would help - but Kirk just kept it up, knowing that Spock was nowhere near saying their safe-word. Soon Spock’s laughter loudened as Kirk moved to his stomach. Spock bent over in his seat revealing his worst spots - right under his shoulder blades. All according to plan, Kirk thought and dove into ‘Phase III.’
“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” On the other side, Chekov’s eyes widened.
“Well, I guess he has some human in him after all,” he said as he listened to the superior officer’s screaming laughter. Chekov couldn’t help but start laughing himself. After a few minutes, Spock managed to say something through his laughter.
“Ehehehenterprihihihise!” Kirk stopped immediately. Chekov figured that must have been a safe-word. When footsteps came closer to the door, Chekov bolted for the corner leading to a different hall. When the door opened, Kirk saw him at the last second and smirked to himself. He was going to have to get him again.
* * *
The next day after his shift, Kirk walked through the halls on his way to go see another friend of his and tickle him into next week - then he saw Chekov and remembered him running away the night before. Well, now’s as good a time as any, Kirk thought. He crept up behind him and tasered the twenty-two-year-old’s sides causing Chekov to yelp and jump forward. Kirk chuckled happily; the only reason he was getting Chekov again was because he was there last night.
“Captain,” he said as Kirk started to rapidly pinch at his sides. He tighttly closed his eyes and backed up into a wall and Kirk kept tickling as he heard Chekov’s laughter - it sounded so carefree. Jim wished he could be so carefree again and have the non-dangerous excitement that kids get to have. Maybe that was why he decided last night to get him again. Maybe he was hoping that some of Chekov’s nature would rub off on him. But deep down he knew that that would only happen if someone would tickle him in return. He wasn’t a kid anymore and so his only excitement while on the job would always be because of something dangerous.  
When he saw his face turning red though, he stopped and went on his merry way. By the time Chekov opened his eyes and caught his breath, Jim was gone. Twice. Kirk had gotten him twice. This wasn’t enough to make him feel uncomfortable yet. Honestly though, it was still kind of fun - like when adults act like kids. Actually, that was exactly what it was.
He decided then that he wanted to see who Kirk would get next. He figured it would have to be someone he was closer to. He had already gotten him and Spock, so that left McCoy, Sulu, Uhura, and Scotty. McCoy was his first guess, so he quickly made his way down to sick bay. On the way, he saw Sulu and Uhura talking to each other with the Captain nowhere in sight. When he looked in the lab, Bones was there, but no Jim. He slunk out before McCoy could see him.
“Scotty.”
* * *
By the time Chekov got to Engineering, Scotty was already on the floor laughing himself to pieces as Kirk pinched his knees. He has his hands on the Captain’s shoulders trying to push him away and failing. The rest of the Engineers looked on in delight with a sense of wonder in their eyes that could only be matched by a child looking for a sleigh in the sky on Christmas Eve.
When Kirk scratched against his ribs he squealed, his laughter became higher and louder as he squirmed in a “desperate” effort to escape the Captain’s clutches. His laugh lines prominently showing as his hair became tangled from his squirming. Chekov didn’t know why Kirk suddenly chose to tickle people when he was bored, but right now he didn’t care. Scotty had just rolled over and Kirk took the opportunity to poke at the backs of his knees. Chekov had never seen Scotty look so happy. Now this? This was good.
When Kirk kneaded into his stomach right after he rolled over again, Scotty just about lost it. His laughter became even more loud and he gave up on squirming all together to instinctively roll himself into a ball. It was then that Chekov heard a familiar laugh next to him. He had been so distracted by the scene before him that he didn’t even notice when Sulu came into the room. Chekov smiled at his signature deep laughter.
“Careful, Sulu,” he said. “If the Captain sees you here, you might very well be next -.” It was then that they heard a scream from Scotty and Sulu laughed even louder; attracting Kirk’s attention. “Too late.” Kirk got up and started walking toward the door where Sulu and Chekov were with a mischievous smile gracing his face. Scotty was still curled up and was giggling breathy giggles with a hand laying on his somach.
“Uh oh,” Sulu said still giggling. He fully understood what was about to happen and had mixed feelings. He had known Jim for the past three years, but only had complete and total trust in him since year two. Yet, for some reason, and he didn’t know why, he was feeling OK right now. Still giggling up a storm, Kirk approached Sulu as Chekov stepped back to watch. Kirk shot his hands beneath his ribs and dug in.
Sulu’s head flew back and his mouth was wide open with laughter gushing from his lungs. The only attempts he made to get away were doubling over and an occasional twist or two. Kirk smiled at Sulu and started to laugh along side him, almost forgetting the audience of one still watching a few feet away. He kept this going for a few minutes and backed off. Then he saw Chekov. Here again, Kirk questioned in thought. I guess he’s asking for it.
He walked to Chekov and spidered his hands up his ribs. Chekov squirmed which only provoked Kirk to give more attention there. Chekov laughed as he tried to grab his hands, but that only gave room for his underarms to be gently scratched.
“Nohohohohoho!” Kirk pulled his hands out and left the scene with a smile on his face. Unknown to the crew though, was that he was hoping that someone - anyone  - would just get him back already. He didn’t care who it was. He just wished someone would get him back.
Chekov watched him vanish from sight as he stepped into the turbolift and the doors closed behind him. OK, now it was starting to get annoying. Every time Kirk even so much as saw him, he’d get attacked. He wasn’t all too happy when Sulu suggested that they head to the Bridge for their shifts, thinking that the Captain might try something there. He’d already done it there, so why not again?  This was quickly turning into a bad situation for Chekov.
“I just...I don’t get it, Hikaru. Why is he always attacking me?”
“He’s not always attacking you. He got me too.”
“Yeah, but he gets me more than anybody else. I was the first one, then after Spock, and now after you and Scotty.”
“Maybe he just likes you.”
“I’m not interested in him, Sulu.”
“I didn’t mean like that. Maybe he sees some potential in you or something.”
“Well, then I wish he wouldn’t. I’m getting uncomfortable whenever I see him. It’s annoying. I never thought I’d say this, but I wish we would just cross paths with the Klingons or Romulans or something already to just give him something else to do.”
“Well, then tell him to stop,” Sulu said simply.
“He’s the Captain, I can’t tell him what to do. My rank -”
“Pavel, if it’s getting too much then you can tell him what to do. And by the looks of it, you need to.” Kirk wasn’t getting Chekov as long as he did the others, but Chekov still felt uncomfortable. He was doing it so much that the Ensign felt that even if he did tickle him longer, that he might not stop when Chekov asked him to.
This whole thing was starting to scare him.
* * *
Chekov was jumpy and on high-alert at his station.
“Coordinates, Mr. Chekov?” Kirk said and squeezed the back of his neck. Chekov jerked his head forward and brought his shoulders up. Once Kirk got his ship’s location, he strolled over to Uhura. “Frequencies open?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Are you getting anything? Any signals?”
“No, Sir. It’s still quiet and calm - just the way I like it.” Don’t remind me, Kirk thought and prodded her side, but nothing happened. He tried again, still nothing. He pinched her shoulder blades and poked her neck, but there was no reaction. He was about to try her sides again, thinking that maybe he should squeeze with a different pressure or speed, when Uhura spoke up.
“Captain,” was all she needed to say because by her tone of voice alone Jim knew he’d crossed a line.
“My apologies, Lieutenant,” he said and went back to his chair.
Wow, Chekov thought. If Uhura did that, then maybe I really can tell him that this is bothering me. The only thing to do now was to wait for a good time...after their shifts.
* * *
“Jim - Jim dohon’t!”
“But you’re always so grumpy, Doctor,” Chekov heard him tease. Suddenly, there was a burst of laughter coming from the sickbay. Anyone who passed would stop for a moment, have a listen and smile or laugh before heading on their way again.
Chekov heard the laughter and pleas to stop and his stomach dropped. He was sure he broke into a cold sweat as he couldn’t help but put himself in the McCoy’s possition. Being at the hands of another person who had just about complete control of your body, all because of a feeling on the skin, and no matter how much you begged and pleaded, they wouldn’t stop what they were doing and give you control of your body back. He stole a moment to gather himself as the doctor’s laughter grew more frantic, took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and courageously stepped through the door.
“Staahahahap!” Chekov’s fears became a reality - Kirk didn’t stop. He moved to his hips causing him to kick. The doctor was trapped laying down on a biobed by his own Captain as he tickled silly. Jim laughed at the situation.
“Do I need to move to your legs, Doctor?”
“Nohohohahaha!”
“OK, how about...here?” He started scratching the sides of McCoy’s ribs and would tease the bottoms every now and again. Chekov flinched as Bones started squirming like a fish out of water and his uniform became wrikled.
“Dohohohon’t Hahahahaha!” Jim only smiled and began squeezing his hips. Bones instantly curled up and grabbed his wrists. His head was back, his nose scrunched up, eyes almost completely shut, smile wide and Kirk heard happiness in his laugh...while Chekov heard angst.
“Stohohohohohop!”
“As you said earlier, Bones: ‘No’.” With that, he shoved his fingers under Bones’ arms - and Jim knew that was his weak spot. When he heard Bones scream and saw him stop moving (not knowing that Bones always became a non-moving dead weight whenever his armpits were focused on), Chekov decided that he had to step in.
“Captain!” He yelled. Kirk pulled his hands out and looked at Chekov worried. What was happening? Was someone hurt? Were the ship in danger? He started to run to Chekov, but he held out his hand. “Stop!” Jim stopped in his tracks two feet away from the young Ensign. Without lowering his hand, he looked past Kirk to the doctor catching his breath in the bed. “Are you OK, Doctor?”
“Ye-yeahaha...” He looked back to Kirk.
“Captain, a word?”
“Of course, Mr. Chekov.” He looked back to McCoy.
“Doctor, would you mind giving us a minute, please?” As soon as Bones caught his breath, he left the two of them alone.
“Is anyone hurt? Are we in danger?”
“No, Sir.” Kirk sighed in relief and sat on a biobed, but Chekov kept standing. “What do you want to talk about, Mr. Chekov?”
“I don’t really know how to say it, so I just will. Captain, you have got to stop this tickling.” Kirk stared at him. “People have asked you to stop and you haven’t. You’re crossing boundaries. And - “
“Mr. Chekov, it’s all in good fun. Besides, I know my crew and I know when they’re at their breaking points. Spock and I have a safe-word. Scotty enjoys it and goes a long time. Sulu has mixed feelings, so I was careful. I guess Lieutenant Uhura’s not ticklish. I know that Doctor McCoy can go a lot longer than that. And I’m pretty sure you don’t mind it.”
“But that’s just it,” Chekov said. “I do mind it.” Kirk stared at him, speechless. He really thought he didn’t mind. “I was OK with it the first two times, but you keep going after me and I don’t like it. I feel really uncomfortable. I can’t be within twenty feet of you without getting attacked. If the others are fine with it, then OK. But I’m not and I want you to stop doing it to me. Now.” Kirk looked to the ground, thinking about what was just said.
“Chekov, I’m sorry.” Kirk turned to him, but didn’t meet his face. “I thought you wanted it because you were always following me when I went to tickle someone. I thought you were asking for it. When I’m bored, I need something that’s both social and has some kind of action. This was the only thing I could think of .” Kirk looked directly at Chekov now,  a look of guilt in his eyes. “I didn’t know that you weren’t alright. I’ll stop. I’m sorry.” Chekov nodded.
“Thank you...Captain.” Kirk smiled.
“But, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“You’re my superior officer...I didn’t feel like I could tell you what to do.”
“Chekov, when something’s going on that’s not right and you know I can fix it, tell me. I’ll fix it. It’s my job to keep my crew safe. Besides, how can you navigate us if there’s something really bothering you?” Chekov nodded in agreement and smiled.
“You have a point there, Sir.”
“So, are you OK, Chekov?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” They both started to leave when Chekov thought of something.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Mr. Chekov?”
“It just occured to me. Since you kept tickling me, don’t you think that some revenge is fair? Besides, aren’t you still bored?” Kirk chuckled to himself.
“Yes, I guess you’re right.” Finally, he thought to himself as Chekov went after his stomach and tickled him until his own breaking point.
They were both happy that night; and it was good for Chekov.
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cantsaythetword · 4 years
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Show me what you got!
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redstarfiction-blog · 7 years
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THE KING!!!
Another wee Jem and Jamie ficlet - not sure why I’ve suddenly got a bee in my bonnet about these but I have! haha! Thank you as always for your encouragement and support :) xxx
Jamie cocked his head to the side and drummed the fingers of his left hand on the table top.
He was thinking, Jem realised with a small thrill and glanced excitedly at Germaine but his cousin was staring intently at their grandfather and spared no attention for Jem. The seconds ticked by, marked by the slender bronze hand of the mantelpiece clock. A single bead of sweat ran from Germaine’s blonde temple and dripped onto the pale linen of his shirt. Jem squared his shoulders and straightened his back. He wasn’t scared of his Grandda, not ever, but when he was concentrating as fiercely as he was, Jem could see why people might be. He looked so stern!
“Ye ken that’s no a verra honourable thing, considering I was so courteous with your earlier error.”
Jamie said evenly, his eyes flicking between both boys but settling on Germaine who stuck out his chin defiantly.
“We all make our own choices, Grand-pere.”
He shrugged and Jamie snorted, though his gaze didn’t soften and Jem swallowed nervously.
“Aye, but are ye sure your partner feels the same? Ye look a wee bit peaky Jeremiah.”
Jem licked his lips and shook his head. In truth he didn’t really understand what it was Germaine had done. It couldn’t be too awful or Grandda wouldn’t be discussing it and anyway, whatever it was he and Germaine were a team and he would stand by his teammate no matter what.
“I think its fair Grandda. Ye didna ask us to owe ye one so I dinna think ye can claim foul-play.”
Jamie’s stern countenance broke and he smiled, jiggling Mandy who was on his knee, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Your brother is going to be a lawyer mo maise … and ye cousin will be a highwayman.”
Both boys looked fairly pleased with their future career predictions but Mandy’s scowl intensified and she glared across the table at them both.
“Dinna be mean to Grandda! Horrid boys!”
She scolded, patting Jamie’s arm consolingly before looking up at him, blue eyes wide with concern.
“Are you OK Grandda?”
“Och aye, dinna fash a leannan. I just need to teach these two young men a lesson, ken?”
Mandy nodded and Jem and Germaine exchanged anxious glances.
“Will ye help me?”
Jamie asked, eyes still trained on his granddaughter who nodded, only too happy to help her beloved Grandda sort out her brother and cousin.
“Aye Grandda.”
“Right,”
Jamie leant forward, huge frame hunching over the table as he pointed for Mandy to follow
“ye see the horsey? Aye that’s the one - put him here and take that piece away.”
“Wait …”
Germain’s eyes flew wide as Mandy picked up his Queen and replaced it with Jamie’s knight.
“The King!”
Jem yelped and Germaine turned sharply, digging his cousin in the ribs. The game had been going on for nearly an hour and in that time he had to shut Jem up countless times.
“Shh. Let me think…”
“No you need to protect the King ...”
Jem leant across Germaine in a panic and seized the crowned piece of wood, dragging it back in the path of Jamie’s bishop. Germaine tried to slam his hand down but Jem had already let go, relinquishing their turn.
“Ah… I think perhaps Jem did not mean to let go so soon, Grand-pere, if I may just …”
“You may not!”
Jamie said tartly, placing Mandy’s hand on the bishop.
“We all make our own choices, ken? Capture the King for us, lass. Let’s finish them.”
Mandy slapped the bishop down viciously and seized the pale King with a roar of victory.
“WE GOT YOU!”
“Grandda got us! You just sat there!”
Jem snapped petulantly but Mandy was too wrapped up in her victory to much care. Germaine shook his head and slumped back in his seat, utterly spent.
“Mon Dieu.”
He murmured gesturing weakly to the board, the elegant turn of his wrist the very echo of his father and Jamie felt a small flutter in his heart at the memory of Fergus as a destitute waif, sat in the parlour of their house in Paris, charming Claire with his wit and his sweet nature and, not for the first time, Jamie marvelled at the chance of fate.  
“You saw it all along, didn’t you Grand-pere?”
“Aye,”
Jamie smiled but with more than a trace of sympathy in his voice
“Ye have the makings of a fine player laddie, but ye are too eager to make the kill. Ye must remember to survey the whole board not just focus on your own plans.”
Jamie held out his hand and Germaine shook it good naturedly, accepting his grandfather’s assessment of his strategy gracefully.
Jamie offered his hand to Jem next, and grinned
“And you need to learn to pay attention to the game at hand, ye didna wait nor listen to your captain and it cost ye the King. But ye are getting better.”
Jem blushed but shook his grandfather’s hand firmly and nodded. He could hardly argue with that assessment given that he had just done exactly as his grandfather described.
“Now my teammate,”
Jamie looked down at Mandy and offered her his hand to shake as he had with the boys.
“I think ye need to work on being a gracious winner, it’s no’ verra polite to scream ye victory at the top o’ your lungs.”
Mandy ignored his hand and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly
“We still won though, didn’t we Grandda?”
She beamed and Jamie laughed despite himself
“Aye, mo chridhe, we did.”
Jamie began to pack the pieces carefully away whilst Mandy scurried off to find Claire and tell her of the victory that she had, in her mind, been an integral part of.
“Sorry.”
Jem murmured quietly but Germaine waved his apology off
“It doesn’t matter, I had not seen the black knight’s potential move and without the queen all was lost anyway.”
He sighed dramatically before grinning at his cousin
“THE KING!!!”
He cried, mimicking Jem’s Scottish accent and throwing himself back in his chair, one hand draped across his eyes.
Jem kicked him in the shin lightly
“Shut up! I didna say it like that!”
“Ye did a bit, Jem. It was verra impassioned.”
Jamie teased and received a long look down the bridge of his grandson’s nose before Jem gave in and laughed.
“Chess is harder than I thought it would be.”
“When ye play wi’ the best it is.”
Jamie grinned, his smile widening as Jem and Germaine rolled their eyes simultaneously.
“Dad beat you last week!”
Jem pointed out smugly and Jamie nodded thoughtfully
“Aye and I dinna ken who was more shocked.”
He laughed, placing the lid on the box of pieces and returning it to the mantel piece.
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