Rhubarb 29, Peanut Butter 5, Rocky Road 22
Title: Checkmate
Story Continuity: The Lethean Glamour extra
Flavors: Rhubarb 29: so what else is new?, Peanut Butter 5: wood, Rocky Road 22: a meeting place
Topping/Extras: Cherry (first attempt at blatant romance), Malt (Dare: Miimei: "Cygnelius/Valentio. PLEASE.")
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Valentio doesn't actually know the rules of chess, but he's pretty sure rule the first is that Cygnelius always wins. [May or may not be canonical. At least partly canonical, I guess.]
Note: Thanks to miyabiarashi for beta-ing and assuring me that this wasn't as terrible as I'd imagined.
Early October in Volacoeur was usually more summer than autumn, but thanks to Lysandro's choice in women, the summer queen had been stingy with warmth this year. It was cold enough that Cygnelius had nearly refused to honor his and Valentio's tradition of playing chess in the oak grove that week. Cygnelius argued it would hardly be a great loss on account of his victory being assured, to which Valentio handed him a bowl of carrot ice cream and told him that if he didn't come that week Valentio would count it as a victory by surrender; Cygnelius told him it would technically be called a resignation, thanks greatly, and fast reconsidered. Neither Cygnelius nor Valentio knew why they bothered keeping the tradition alive, but after eight years it seemed a shame to abandon it now.
Valentio didn't actually remember any of the rules Cygnelius fed back to him each week, but he was pretty sure that rule the first was that no matter how much thought was put into beating him, Cygnelius always won. Valentio had heard that Cygnelius had beaten all three of the Volacoeurian kings that had ruled during his life, and that Cygnelius had defeated King Faure the Sage in fourteen moves when the boy was just thirteen. Valentio didn't doubt it. For as long as Valentio had known him, Cygnelius had always been ruthlessly clever and devious; the king probably didn't even know he was losing until the words "checkmate" were spoken.
This week, there seemed to be no plan at all, as it was taking Cygnelius twenty minutes to decide on a move instead of ten.
"Nothing would make me happier than you moving sometime before we get old and wrinkly," Valentio said. "I don't think that moss on the tree behind you was even there when we started playing."
"Before 'we' get old and wrinkly?" Cygnelius said. "I'm always going to be young. I'm the Marked of Ibis, that makes me immortal. Good luck with that twilight years thing. I'm sure you'll be a darling old pervert."
"Laugh all you want, I'll be eighty and half-mad with senility and I'll still get more ass than you," Valentio said. "If we're done by then."
"Of course we'll be done by then. If I weren't still waiting for you to thrill me with proof of your secret evil chess genius, I could have beaten you ages ago. Don't insult my intelligence, Valentio. It's a very vast intelligence, and you'll only end up looking like a fool." And he finally made his move.
Valentio snorted, a burst of affection going through him, and thought that if Lysandro found half as much happiness with Aheira as Valentio had whenever Cygnelius just smack talked him, then it would be worth however many winters he endured because of it. He played that thought back a few times and realized that he might just have issues.
"Please stop doing that," Cygnelius said, not looking up from the board. "I can't think with you being intense at me."
"Then stop thinking," Valentio said. "I promise not to mind, even if it means you lose the game. I'm willing to make that sacrifice."
"It's times like these I remember that you're the product of serial incest," Cygnelius said, smiling and feeling quite comfortably warm despite the cool of the autumn air, before a slightly surprised and dismayed expression stole over him. Cygnelius cast a speculative glance at Valentio. "When did we get married?"
Horrifyingly, Valentio's brain supplied an exact moment.
"I'm pretty sure that's a weekend in Vhuaydra there's a very good reason I don't remember," Valentio said.
"Yes," Cygnelius said. "Or maybe - do you remember that week, my twenty-first birthday, I woke up handcuffed to the bed naked, and-"
"Ah, yes," Valentio said. "And I was..."
"Also naked," Cygnelius said. "The rest of the week I don't actually recall very well, but I remember that part pretty clearly."
"You would," Valentio said, grinning a bit too widely, "I was naked on top of you."
Cygnelius colored and very pointedly did not look at Valentio, as he was pretty sure staring at any part of Valentio's body would take him somewhere he didn't really want to be just then. Even his ear. Actually, especially his ear. "Yes," Cygnelius said, carefully, "I remember that part pretty clearly as well."
"Hey, you know that just a hundred and sixty years ago, people were married by handcuffing each other together?" Valentio said. "And if that's not a perfect metaphor for a relationship, then the world's been doing it wrong all these years. But really, just think about it. If we were born just two hundred years earlier, you'd be my princess."
"And how long have you been saving that one, then?" Cygnelius said. Valentio smiled proudly and said, "A few weeks before your twenty-first, actually."
"We hadn't even been handcu - oh," Cygnelius said. "Right. Why is it that neither of us can get drunk without ending up in bed together the next morning?"
Valentio gave that one some thought, then leaned in and kissed Cygnelius.
Several thoughts passed through Cygnelius's mind - "Does he know CPR is for when you're unconscious," "guh," "Why the hell don't we do this more often," being among them - before he realized Valentio was kissing him and he was kissing back. It was slow and careful, tentative as if they were both unsure it wouldn't just dissolve on the air like a dream and disappear with consciousness, and as it progressed it got more complex - it wasn't just their lips anymore, it was an ache and a sparking in their hearts, it was a dizzy anticipation in their heads, it was burning scalding hot in their blood - and Cygnelius wondered if his heart was actually mutinying. His pants knew exactly what they wanted, but so, unfortunately, did his lungs.
They pulled back, breathless and clearly only on oxygen break, and Valentio's eyes were somehow managing to be both dark and wanton and stupidly and hugely satisfied with himself. "Well," he said, "I think that's why."
"Can't imagine why we haven't tried that sober before," Cygnelius said, and licked his lips - Valentio watching, eyes hot but trying for cool - before leaning forward, tilting Valentio's head, and whispering, "We should do it more often. Possibly without clothes. By the way, don't you think I didn't notice you sabotaged the board during all that. Much as I'm doing now. Checkmate."
When Cygnelius pulled back without doing anything more, Valentio wasn't much impressed, but the look on his face was totally worth the blue balls.
Which, of course, did not in any way remain blue for very long.