fic, Lost: Black Becomes Me Well (Jacob/MIB), PG
Title: Black Becomes Me Well
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jacob/Man in black
Words: 432
Summary: The chessboard rests on the sand, undisturbed by the waves; they just don’t reach it, nor the two men sitting on the opposite sides of it.
Spoilers: I guess you're safe with the S5 finale since I wrote it before S5 started.
Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine, as stated.
A/N: originally written for the lostsquee fic battle, using chess for a prompt. Title from a quote from The Seventh Seal.
The chessboard rests on the sand, undisturbed by the waves; they just don’t reach it, nor the two men sitting on the opposite sides of it.
The one dressed in white has the black side, the one dressed in black has the white.
The one who has the black side moves a bishop on an upward diagonal on his left.
“That move was useless,” the black man says.
“Who knows,” the white one answers, rolling the tip of his fingers over a cut on his lip that still drips blood. “And meanwhile, can’t you be more careful next time?”
“Like you even give a damn,” the black man spits back before moving his queen forward and knocking the bishop off the chessboard.
“My friend, why can’t you just learn that moving pieces on a whim will not ever work?” the white man asks, shaking his head; with a swift movement, he knocks the queen down with his own tower. “Playing with you is way too easy. Maybe it’s why I always win.”
“Jacob, that doesn’t mean you’re right.”
“Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t, but I’d concentrate on the game, if I were you.”
There’s not much to concentrate upon, though; most of the white pieces are off the board and losing the queen hadn’t been a smart move.
Not at all.
It takes Jacob a couple of moves and then his horse settles in a corner behind a pawn, protected from all sides and dooming the white king to checkmate, since it’s cornered by those same queen and tower.
The black man’s fist dives down on the chessboard and all the pieces scatter all over the sand; Jacob stands up, his face calm and serene, holding the black queen in his hand.
“I won,” he proclaims with a quite cheerful tone, and the black man stands up, too.
“I know. And may it be as you wish for this round, too, but you know I will beat you someday.”
“You can try. We have nothing but time, don’t we?”
The black man doesn’t answer and reaches Jacob, pulling his head forward and kissing him with a certain brutality, making sure to bite on the cut in order to re-open it; his lips are stained in blood when he draws back.
“Deal,” the black man said, and disappeared.
Three seconds later, a plane appears in the distance before crashing on the beach on the opposite side of the island.
Jacob’s lips curl up in a tiny smile and his fingers wrap closely around the piece that he still had in his hand.
End.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jacob/Man in black
Words: 432
Summary: The chessboard rests on the sand, undisturbed by the waves; they just don’t reach it, nor the two men sitting on the opposite sides of it.
Spoilers: I guess you're safe with the S5 finale since I wrote it before S5 started.
Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine, as stated.
A/N: originally written for the lostsquee fic battle, using chess for a prompt. Title from a quote from The Seventh Seal.
The chessboard rests on the sand, undisturbed by the waves; they just don’t reach it, nor the two men sitting on the opposite sides of it.
The one dressed in white has the black side, the one dressed in black has the white.
The one who has the black side moves a bishop on an upward diagonal on his left.
“That move was useless,” the black man says.
“Who knows,” the white one answers, rolling the tip of his fingers over a cut on his lip that still drips blood. “And meanwhile, can’t you be more careful next time?”
“Like you even give a damn,” the black man spits back before moving his queen forward and knocking the bishop off the chessboard.
“My friend, why can’t you just learn that moving pieces on a whim will not ever work?” the white man asks, shaking his head; with a swift movement, he knocks the queen down with his own tower. “Playing with you is way too easy. Maybe it’s why I always win.”
“Jacob, that doesn’t mean you’re right.”
“Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t, but I’d concentrate on the game, if I were you.”
There’s not much to concentrate upon, though; most of the white pieces are off the board and losing the queen hadn’t been a smart move.
Not at all.
It takes Jacob a couple of moves and then his horse settles in a corner behind a pawn, protected from all sides and dooming the white king to checkmate, since it’s cornered by those same queen and tower.
The black man’s fist dives down on the chessboard and all the pieces scatter all over the sand; Jacob stands up, his face calm and serene, holding the black queen in his hand.
“I won,” he proclaims with a quite cheerful tone, and the black man stands up, too.
“I know. And may it be as you wish for this round, too, but you know I will beat you someday.”
“You can try. We have nothing but time, don’t we?”
The black man doesn’t answer and reaches Jacob, pulling his head forward and kissing him with a certain brutality, making sure to bite on the cut in order to re-open it; his lips are stained in blood when he draws back.
“Deal,” the black man said, and disappeared.
Three seconds later, a plane appears in the distance before crashing on the beach on the opposite side of the island.
Jacob’s lips curl up in a tiny smile and his fingers wrap closely around the piece that he still had in his hand.
End.