Chapter Text
Hikaru liked to watch from afar. It gave someone like him power, the distance. When he’s able to separate himself from the entanglements of others and stand out. That was important to him, the distance. It assured him that he wasn’t like them. Nothing like the rest of them.
More real, that was what he was.
There wasn’t much to look at in Moscow. Although Hikaru had confessed many times that he liked the city, the cold winter nights had never failed to make him feel lonely. The wind breezed through him as he stood on the balcony, too aware of the lack of company.
He stared down at the bustling street right below him. The smell of gas and cold wind hit his nose so sharply that it almost hurt. It wasn’t like Hikaru wasn’t aware of his own loneliness, it would be very obtuse to pretend otherwise.
He had always liked it, the solitude of life. Don’t the many interviews and looks that he shot towards his peers fool you. There wasn’t much that Hikaru cared for more than the company of himself.
Being in his early 20s, but already thinking that he knew everything there was to know about the world around him, Hikaru thought that his peers were not worth his time. They were, after all, his competitors. Sooner or later, they would be facing off for the ultimate prize, and Hikaru just couldn’t pretend to be friends with them while knowing that he would have to sit across from them one day with the aim to dismantle everything that they were.
Keeping all of that in mind, it was difficult for young Nakamura to get himself out of the room to drink that night. It had been quite a tournament. He expected a lot out of it, and as usual, Hikaru managed to fail and live out to his own expectations at the same time.
The time to think about the results and the games that could have been was over by then, though. Hikaru walked away from the balcony and reached for his jacket with a determined look. As opposed to his stance, he let out a sigh—deep and heavy like he was already dreading what was to come from what he was about to do.
And there were many things that he was about to do. For many years after that very night, Hikaru would often rewind back to that very moment, retracing his steps and rethinking about what could have happened had things gone differently. Perhaps the feeling in his stomach wasn’t really the bad food that he had eaten, but rather the will of fate that was trying to stop him from something more.
But Hikaru wasn’t a man of fate, and in the many years after, his heart remained the same. Nothing and no one compelled nor wielded Nakamura’s soul but himself.
When it was time for him to face the crowd, Hikaru liked to think that he was the one entirely in control. When he joined the after-party, it was out of his own will. He decided to join the horde of bodies because he wanted to talk, but he made clear to everyone else at the bar that he would be just as pleased with the presence of himself alone as he would be with another.
The liquor burnt on his tongue. Amongst all the terrible things that he had put in his body, whether out of his own self-destruction or the need to indulge just to fit in with the others, alcohol might just be the worst of all agents.
He stared at his empty glass, wondering if coming down to the hotel bar to celebrate with the others was worth it in the first place. He set his ego aside for once and looked up, seeing how the others were congregated at one place. If he had just stepped into the crowd and joined them in on the jokes that night, everything would have been different. Or maybe not.
If he wasn’t so distant and aware of himself, then perhaps he could have set down his ego for a moment to enjoy the company of others without feeling like everyone was judging his every move. Going out always felt like a chore when that happened.
There were times when he was admittedly obtuse. Sometimes, in the small moments of clarity, he would realise that people didn’t give that much fuck about him and he shouldn’t let their actions be a damnation of his own. People surely had things to say and criticise whenever he stepped out of line, but people weren’t going to sleep and waking up thinking about him.
If he could redo it, Hikaru would go back and redo everything. The conversations, the parties, and all the tournaments where he stood alone, staring at the walls like he was a nobody.
At that moment, though, such thoughts didn’t occur to him. Hikaru could remember staring at Magnus, as he usually did in those events. He recalled the faint scent of smoke and wine, and that foul stench of sweat and alcohol breath that seemed to choke him.
Eventually, when he got up to leave, Hikaru’s met with an invitation that would go on to hang over his head for the rest of his life.
“Magnus wants to know if you want to join him for a few games.” The reporter said. It was insulting to his ears. If Magnus wanted to see him, then he should extend Hikaru the courtesy of asking him about it himself. Sending another person to do the job just made Hikaru feel like he wasn’t worth his time enough for him to walk over in the first place.
That wasn’t enough to make Hikaru feel like he wasn’t wanted, though. At that moment in time, they were about to be rivals. In his head, Hikaru could see a future where they met up like this several times more, where people would go on to sing praises about their close performance, how they give each other tough fights and how enjoyable it was to have watched them battle against each other.
The invite hung in the air as he considered his options. Slightly tipsy and suddenly once again high on his own ego, Hikaru nodded. “Where will it be?”
“Just out by the lobby.”
Almost stupidly, Hikaru followed the guy to the destination. It felt like he was in a trance, his feet moved on their own and Hikaru found himself under the bright lights of the lobby before he could rethink his decision.
There was a chess board in the sitting area, and as far as he was concerned, Hikaru could have played anywhere as long as the 64 squares were visible. He wanted to play along with Magnus. It was obvious to everyone, including himself, that the kid was meant for greatness. And Hikaru would bet that he was the one who can come close to such greatness, if not even better.
A few rounds sounded great. He was a little tipsy, but whatever, it wasn’t like Hikaru hadn’t played chess in such a state before. It might be a good way to see how good Magnus genuinely was too. If he’s able to hold the line while being out of it, then the kid might just become a genuine problem for him.
“Thanks for coming.” Magnus said when he took his seat.
The anger about the younger man not asking Hikaru to come over himself dissipated as soon as that sentence was said. He took a deep breath and looked at Magnus. A chummy grin was on his face, like Hikaru was his first choice, as if Magnus had also been thinking about their future, of the battles that they will have over the board for years to come.
Tok! Another hit landed on the clock, followed by some hushed murmurs from the crowd around them. Hikaru was annoyed by it. By no means did he not like the attention, but to have people all over them while he was trying to play a game of chess (and losing) was messing up with his system. He scowled after every move, yawning and rolling his eyes every time they cheered at Magnus’ victory.
Almost suddenly, he felt a foot stepping on his toes under the table. When he looked up, he found the exact opposite expression on his opponent’s face.
“Tired already?” Magnus mouthed to him with a grin.
What a cocky, arrogant man. Hikaru could feel himself getting giddy and shy at the sight of Magnus' face that night. Such a slimy and horrible man. He made Hikaru’s stomach grow butterflies and never once made the move to do anything about removing them.
“Shut up.” he said, though the words had no venom. He was smitten, as embarrassing as it was to admit. With alcohol in his veins and adrenaline of the match catching up to him, Hikaru was not at fault for feeling that way.
He slid his foot out from under Magnus’ one and stepped right back on him, smiling when Magnus hissed upon impact. It was right then that they decided on a draw, tying the game into a comfortable conclusion because Hikaru knew that if he had lost, he would have tilted hard and punched Magnus or something. To hear those cheers when he was losing wasn’t something that he wanted to experience ever again.
Hikaru leaned back on his chair and observed the young man. He didn’t know yet about leaving, he knew for sure that he hadn’t got enough chess yet. Every time he got closer to beating Magnus, it made him want to go more. And for some unknown reasons, the relief of losing a game to the same man was also nice.
So, he lingered. When the crowd dissipated, he relaxed further into the chair, ignoring how the reporter was still there with the camera and the annoying voice recorder. What was so special about this game anyway?
“You wanna continue?” Magnus stretched and nudged him again with his foot, which was odd and comforting at the same time.
He really hoped that it wouldn't become a thing. That would be awful, playing footsie in a championship match. Hikaru swallowed down the awkward thought before replying, “Not here.”
He wasn’t really sure where else they could have played either, but 100%, he’s never playing in the hotel lobby again. He refused to look at Magnus’ face, choosing to look instead to the reporter in hopes that the man would just fuck off somewhere else so he could have the next match with Magnus in private.
The clock was hit again, this time with a light Twok. Hikaru stared at it, then back to Magnus who was now looking at his dad like they were considering something only the two of them knew about. He really should have left by that point but for some reason, Hikaru stayed. He joined Magnus’ in his father’s suite and took slow, loving sips from Magnus’ orange juice as if they were having a playdate. It was undeniable that he was tired, but Hikaru persisted.
Once again, like it was back in the lobby; every small win fuelled him to chase the same high again. Every defeat to Magnus felt like a sweet release after a long, challenging battle. Neither reason made him want to leave.
About some time after the first few rounds in the room, Magnus’ father retired to bed. Then soon after, the reporter left, along with his camera and microphone. So as the night grew darker and the stars twinkled, only the sound of his and Magnus’ sound breathing filled the room.
The occasional hit on the clock landed in his sleepy ears like nails on a chalk board. He stretched and yawned often, looking up at Magnus in a daze to annoyingly find a concentrated look on his face like tiredness wasn’t getting to him like it was to Hikaru.
He wondered if it was genetics. Having more stamina was good in any sports, but more so for what they were doing than others. To sit in a game for over 5 or 7 hours and still feeling like he could go again was what’s going to make Magnus dangerous. Hikaru would laugh at this later, but right then, he was too busy being annoyed at the fact that he had presumably less stamina than the younger man.
When Magnus started to rearrange the board for the next round, Hikaru didn’t move. He hadn’t fixed the board for a few rounds now, and the other man seemed happy to do it in his stead. Whenever he lost, Hikaru just kicked back and let Magnus take over, he was petulant and proud, clearly it was just that he was too tired to think out of Magnus’ traps.
It was on Magnus’ account that they were still up anyway. The clock was already showing that they had played long into the next day, and when Hikaru looked over to the window, the right Moscow moon seemed to be telling him to go back to his room as well.
Right at that very moment, Hikaru wasn’t really mad at the losses. He was tired, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Furthermore, it hadn’t occurred to him that Magnus might have figured him out in those few hours that they spent together. It was only years after, when he piled up more losses to the younger man in important and meaningful games, that the treacherous thoughts came to him.
Every time Magnus’ pieces moved closer to his king, Hikaru felt like his own physical and metaphysical self was being invaded. At first, it wasn’t noticeable enough to care about. Sure, it was just meaningless losses. But as time went by, it was hard to ignore how it got to bruising his ego.
The fact that Magnus was rather unexpressive wasn’t nice either. It was as if winning against Hikaru didn’t mean anything to him. To make sure that he didn’t look like a lesser man, Hikaru tried to do the same by not reacting when he lost, which only made it worse because now he looked like he was so used to losing to the younger man that he was barely reacting anymore.
Any move was a losing game for him. Hikaru was getting so into his own head that he had stopped thinking about chess and fell for one of the most obvious traps in the game yet. Fuck it, he toppled his king piece down and leaned back against the chair, then turned his head to the window.
“I should leave,” he said abruptly.
Magnus, who was just beginning to put the pieces back into their places, followed Hikaru’s gaze and stared out into the moon on the other side of the glass window as well. Unlike Hikaru who was scornful, he smiled, something that was only infuriating Hikaru more.
“Sure.” He almost sounded grateful. Almost. Hikaru might have been sleepy, but he knew enough to know that it was because Magnus had already gotten what he wanted.
Absentmindedly, Hikaru covered his upper body with his arms by crossing his arms across his chest. He tilted his chin up, as if balancing the entire world on the tip of his nose. He liked it, preferred it. It made him feel important. Hikaru had learnt from a very young age that if he put on that expression, it made him look like he had better things to do than being there with the person whom he’s talking to.
It didn’t seem to work on Magnus, who shrugged and pointed to the bottle of orange juice that sat between them on the table. “Would you like to finish it?” He offered, looking at him with eyes that Hikaru swore he didn’t think about for nights after.
“What? No.” He was defensive and he didn’t know why. It clung to him, that ugly need to overprotect and defend himself whenever he was asked something out of the ordinary. Hikaru didn’t like to feel like he was someone who needed to be offered anything, or even worse, taken care of.
He pushed the bottle over to Magnus’ side. “I don’t want it.”
Perhaps he could have said something better, but Hikaru couldn’t care less. He didn’t need to be taken care of, Hikaru was fine doing things on his own and he had everything under control. He watched as Magnus took the last few sips of the drink before looking back at him like he was baffled that Hikaru was still there.
“Are you waiting for me to open the door for you?”
It hadn’t even occurred to Hikaru that he could just get up and leave. He’s stuck on that chair like he was waiting for Magnus’ move, or even worse, for Magnus’ permission to get out of the chair and walk to the door as if he owed that man more than he had already given him that night.
“Of course not.” He acted like it was his plan to look that foolish all along. Sluggishly, he got out of the chair on wobbly legs, then pretended to look around as if he was worried that he had forgotten something on the table.
He’s also intentionally avoiding Magnus’ eye contact, looking everywhere but into those wandering eyes that were no doubt looking right at him. How annoying. Hikaru didn’t like that at all. And for some reasons, it made it even harder for him to leave. It felt like it was his first time trying to function as a human, every move felt awkward and Hikaru could feel the impending doom that he was going to choke on empty air next.
“So…uh…”
It would be better if Henrik was still awake, now Hikaru just looked like an asshole who didn’t want to leave the suite. What the fuck was he still doing there? Hikaru tried to get his legs to move, but he couldn’t, not with Magnus looking at him like he was super interested in the way that he was breathing alone.
“Can you stop looking at me like that?” He narrowed his eyes at the younger man, suddenly pissed.
“Like what? I’m trying to help you find what you’re looking for.”
“You’re just looking at my face.” Hikaru shook his head, now irritated. His voice was tight, almost like a rope that was pulled tight enough to feel like it was about to be ripped apart.
“And?” Magnus raised his brow, looking amused by Hikaru’s little outburst.
“And it’s annoying.” He stepped out of the chair, but got his leg caught on the table. The heavy wood creaked under the impact and Hikaru swore that he saw Magnus’ grin widened even further at that. Oh, how he was starting to hate that young man. “Stop it.”
“I can’t fix your legs, man.” Came the reply. Hikaru wondered why no one had punched Magnus yet in his short career.
Whatever, he gathered his wits and pulled his leg away from the table before turning to the door, not bothering to look back at Magnus as he reached for the handle.
“Thanks!” Magnus shouted after him right before Hikaru slammed the door shut. He didn’t reply because he felt like being a dick.
In the next few years, Hikaru didn’t think much about Magnus. He gave the obligatory congratulations when the younger man won the World Championship, but for the most part, Hikaru stayed away.
It really didn’t help that Magnus had claimed the biggest prize so young. Hikaru had been obsessing over that trophy since he had started playing chess. Granted, he knew that it was everyone’s dream to reach the top, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when things failed to go his way time and time again.
In some time between that night in Moscow to the time that they meet up again, Hikaru started to wonder if he had shown Magnus way too many of his own cards. Every time they clashed, all he could think about was that night for some weird reasons, and before he knew it, Magnus would have already delivered the final blow.
Hikaru sighed to himself before continuing to eat his lunch. As he took another bite, Hikaru’s eyes drifted over to the entrance and happened to catch a glimpse of the familiar figure coming into the room.
It was Magnus. Obviously, it was Magnus, but he didn’t come in alone. Hikaru watched as he took a seat at the table, followed by the small figure of a man who came with him. He turned his head away and tried to give them a bit of privacy, but Hikaru’s head was already reeling.
Yes, he had heard the rumours. It wasn’t a crazy thing to believe, but he had always just thought that Magnus was European and was thus more comfortable with showing affection to people than he was. Hikaru’s leg jerked forward under the table. He’s sharply reminded of the little footsie game that they had all those years ago back in Moscow.
He didn’t really have a problem with it. Whatever Magnus’ sexuality was, it wasn’t really his problem. But he couldn’t help wondering if the invitation to play that game so late at night meant that Magnus was trying to feel him out and see if Hikaru was up to being with him.
Magnus was handsome, but Hikaru didn’t know yet if he was comfortable with letting him share a bed or…doing whatever that Magnus and his “friend” did the night before yet.
Fuck, Hikaru cussed inside his head as he took another bite of his now stale bread. What if that was Magnus' way of trying to get into his pants? Had Hikaru missed the memo completely and was Magnus somehow disappointed that he didn’t stay the night the other time?
A million things swam through his head. Hikaru looked up again to find Magnus reaching out to wipe something from that…that boy’s mouth before pouring him water from the glass pitcher on the table. It was eerily similar to how he had treated Hikaru that night in Moscow, from the gentle caress to taking care of his basic needs.
Hikaru couldn’t remember the last time that he poured someone a drink, let alone using his hand to touch someone else in such an intimate gesture.
“Ohhh…heh,” Magnus’ company gave a laugh at whatever the world champion was saying and Hikaru couldn’t help but look away.
He let his eyes trail down, so it wasn’t exactly away from the table, just away from the face that was emitting such a delightful and joyous laughter that he felt like he was intruding.
By that point, Hikaru had already stopped eating his breakfast. The boy, he now decided that was what he was going to refer to the male that was sitting right across from Magnus, had a great posture. One of his legs was crossed over the other, and on his feet, he wore a pair of soft blue loafers that made his pretty pale skin seem like it was shining.
His eyes lingered. Hikaru looked at his pants, which were not tight, but were clearly a slim fit. His ankles were small and dainty, like he had come out of a painting and landed on Magnus’ bed the night before. His wrists, too, were thin. The boy was lanky and small, which was a lot to say because Magnus wasn’t a bulky man either but he was making the boy look like a twig.
Before Hikaru could tear his eyes away from the wrist that was resting on the table, Magnus reached for it, caressing the knuckles softly before leaning closer to say something (presumably) soft to his companion.
He wondered how many people get that privilege. Even during that night in Moscow, Magnus’ words towards Hikaru weren’t really all that sweet. He was teasing and a bit mean at times, if anything, he was rough and aloof. But there he was, sitting across from the boy the same way that he did with Hikaru, but treating him with a completely opposite tone.
Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with Hikaru that night after all. Nothing that Magnus did back then was comparable to the soft, domestic gesture that he was offering to that boy. It made Hikaru wonder if Magnus swung both ways or just to men. Surely, those things were very popular with the women too.
Neither choice would surprise him. Hikaru wasn’t gay or anything like that, though, he asserted to himself once more. He couldn’t imagine coming out to anyone, even though his mother and his stepfather were sweet. It would be so awkward to even talk about what he was into, let alone tell them that he wanted to be with men.
Anywho, it wasn’t Hikaru’s problem to think about. He swallowed the dry bread and made his way out of the hotel breakfast, feeling like something heavy had just settled in the pit of his stomach.
On that same day, as he walked about and conversed with people, Hikaru couldn’t help but be hyper aware of his body—more specifically, his stomach. He kept trying to hold it close to himself, and whenever he walked past a reflective window, he looked at his reflection and straightened his back like he was walking for the view of someone else.
In a meeting with the organisers, he found himself adjusting his back every now and then, correcting his posture and drawing his legs close together. He was painfully aware of his jaw, his mouth, and the irritating and disgusting flesh that drooped from his chin.
Hikaru swallowed hard as he looked at the employee’s face. She was very pretty. Not his type, but was clearly Magnus’. Slim, sharp jawline, and very toned body (as far as Hikaru could tell). Talking to her made him feel like he was a disappointment for the human race.
“Hikaru?” She smiled at him, though her face was filled with concern. She must have said a few things to him already, perhaps now waiting for him to say something back.
“Yeah,” he replied, trying to pretend that he was following along.
She nodded happily and returned to the clipboard in her hand, where she continued to point at something on the white sheet of paper. Her mouth moved, and Hikaru’s eyes followed where she was pointing, yet nothing entered his ears.
Her fingers were nice. The index that was pointing to the sentence that he wasn’t paying attention to was similar to the one that he saw on the boy earlier that day. Hikaru fondled with his own finger, finding the American Championship ring there and twisted it around for comfort.
He was an American Chess Champion, not some silly thing that enjoyed being paraded around like whatever it was that morning, Hikaru thought cruelly to himself.
His gaze was drawn to her face when she moved away from the clipboard once more, and Hikaru was again harshly reminded of how nicely sculpted her face was. Her nose was pointy and high, sitting on the right place on her face, making her look like something out of a magazine.
“Huh,” he remarked aloud.
Quickly, Hikaru regained his composure and smiled at the employee, who was now staring at him like he had just grown a second head. Yes, perhaps Hikaru had been just a tad out of it that day. He excused himself and got out of the office, heading straight for the bathroom.
He slammed the door shut behind him, checked that there was no one in any of the stalls before splashing some water on his face over the sink. The splashes of the running water against the ceramic sink was starting to irritate him. Hikaru turned the facet off and looked up.
His own face stared back at him in the mirror. Hikaru gently brought his hand up to his nose, now slightly red from embarrassment, and rubbed it. He had the strangest urge to throw the mirror away so he didn’t have to see his own face. Hikaru cupped his cheeks, full and soft as they were, before pressing his palms flat against them in a childish attempt to flatten them so that they were more akin to the ones that the employee and that boy from the morning had.
He failed, and no matter how hard he tried to suck his stomach in, Hikaru could still see it slightly protruding out when he looked down. It wasn’t like he was obese. Hikaru had always known that he was on the heavier side, more plump and chubby, but to suddenly be so reminded of everyone else’s thinness was just too much for him to bear.
He skipped dinner that night. After the meeting, he took a walk around town to sweat, then went back to shower and went straight to bed to curb and silent the pain in his stomach.
Boytoys.
It’s a funny word. Hikaru heard about it about a year after he saw that boy with Magnus. Since then, he’s pretty sure that the Norwegian had been spotted with more than 10 different faces. Some of them were men and some were women, not that Hikaru was keeping track. There were more men than women, though, if anyone were to ask Hikaru about it.
He didn’t find that weird at all. Most of the toys were the same. Magnus clearly had a thing for pretty little arm candies that look like they could be blown away by a gust of wind.
From what he had heard so far, Magnus liked to collect a few familiar faces from time to time and fly them out wherever just to accompany him. Thus, the boy whom he had seen that morning at the hotel, had been seen again a few times more by cameras and fans alike. People didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Whatever Magnus was doing in his downtime had nothing to do with the sports as far as the audience was concerned.
Hikaru wasn’t gay and he wasn’t homophobic, either. But as far as he could tell, every time he saw or heard about Magnus being with guys, a sick and disgusted feeling would come up from the bottom of his stomach.
He tried to tell himself that it was because Magnus was a World Champion and that should mean something. He was sure that the younger man would agree with him on it too. Perhaps that sickness that he felt was because he knew that Magnus would do better trying to do good for chess than spending most of his time screwing pretty little toyboys like he was a free bachelor.
Magnus should be committed to chess, that’s all Hikaru was worried about. He was, by far, the most prominent and well-known player of their time. Yet every time Hikaru saw or thought of him, it’s about him being with a different face. The World Champion should be married to chess, Hikaru thought scornfully as he stared at Magnus making conversation with a female reporter who looked like she was enjoying the straight and dry humour too much.
It’s a tad unprofessional, in his opinion. Hikaru leaned back against the chair that he’s sitting on and sighed. Every press conference for any tournament was like that those days. Magnus was adorned with attention, throwing around jokes and being charming, while Hikaru was stuck to the side like a sidekick waiting for the chance to speak up.
It didn’t help that Hikaru wasn’t even considered the best American around by most. Not long after Leon slowed down his pace, Fabiano had returned to America and took the spotlight from him.
He bore a lot of hatred towards everyone during that time. He could make out a young woman in the midst of Magnus’ entourage right from the corner of his eyes. She came with him that very morning, walking a few steps behind so that she wouldn’t be seen by the press and letting Magnus go without her.
Between seeing all those slim faces and the stress from chess, Hikaru switched between starving him and overeating until he felt like was puking. Right then, sitting on the chair, he felt disgusted. His stomach was protruding under his jacket, and he was right within the proximity of the woman who looked like she eats nuts and fruits for all her three meals.
Hikaru shifted in his seat and stared off to the small crowd of reporters and photographers. Screw them too, he thought. All the cameras were very obviously pointed to Magnus, with the inclusion of Fabiano in the shot, he supposed. It was as if he didn’t exist.
“What about you, Hikaru?”
The eyes turned towards him. And suddenly, Hikaru found himself to be the centre of attention. His wits were gone the moment the cameras were turned to him. He instinctively looked for a second opinion and found himself turning to the direction that Magnus was sitting instead.
It was baffling, so much so that he nearly laughed aloud at himself for it. Hikaru caught himself before he looked fully at the other man, stumbling over his own thoughts to gather something to say. It would be helpful to know what the question was, but that was too late for that now.
Oh, god. He could feel the sense of dread coming up his throat like vomit that crawled up the tube before getting puked out. Hikaru thought back to the girl, still standing there, still perfect and pretty as she no doubt was judging him for how he poorly presented himself when it was his turn to answer.
Hikaru gripped the edge of the table tightly, biting down a string of vile curses that threatened to spill out of him. Just before zoning out, he remembered the reporter asking Magnus about the level of competition in the tournament. They must have moved on from it since, and considering the level of creativity and research that went through those sorts of press briefings, whatever was being asked now would be similar.
“I…I’m happy to be here.” He nodded along to himself as he answered. “Yeah, it’s not everyday that I get to play against—against some of them, so it’s great to be here with everyone.”
“And your stay here? How do you like it so far?” Luckily for him, the reporter nudged. Hikaru breathed a sigh of relief because he was so close to projectile vomiting all over everyone.
“I love it.” He smiled, trying to think of something overly nice to say about the town that they were in. Nothing came up, which made him feel even worse about himself. Hikaru liked their food, but right now, as he thought about her and those other skinny boytoys, all Hikaru could think about was puking his meals out.
“The weather is nice.” Magnus said from the other side of the room. “Hikaru likes the sun. Being a Florida man and all, right?”
He couldn’t tell if Magnus was prompting him or the reporter, but he was grateful, nonetheless. The weather was nice. And it was pretty sunny while not being too warm either, which was perfect for someone like him. In fact, just yesterday, Hikaru had been basking in the sunlight near the pool all day while sipping orange juice.
Not looking back at Magnus, he continued to the reporter. “I do love the sun.” Hikaru couldn’t help but smile. Being noticed was nice. Having Magnus mention exactly what he liked was very nice. It was as if he mattered to him.
That was nice.
Hikaru caught sight of the woman again after the press briefing. Of course, it was expected. He was quite surprised to not see her running towards Magnus right after the conference ended, but he guessed that there must have been some requirement of sort from Magnus to be nice and proper whilst engaging in public.
She’s probably still lamenting on how much he screwed up the interview. Hikaru caught her staring right at him and started to panic slightly. Perhaps she thought that there was something going on between him and Magnus. Maybe when Magnus interjected and helped him with the question, she had thought that they have something going on.
Hikaru didn’t want to be a homewrecker, much less when he didn’t even have Magnus’ attention in the first place. Could she not see that there was nothing about him that was appealing to Magnus?
“Hikaru!” She called after him just as he turned around. Hikaru closed his eyes and prayed for the best.
When he turned back to her, she was already making her way to where he stood, holding a small book in her hands like she was about to interrogate him about all the times that Magnus and him could have been together. Hikaru started to sweat. He wondered if she too wondered that something that happened between them on that night in Moscow.
“Hi,” he greeted. His mouth barely opened and Hikaru could feel his legs shaking from how anxiety.
“Can you sign this for me, please?” She offered the small handbook to him, smiling so brightly that he was partially stunned by her beauty. Indeed, she was very pretty. Perhaps the most pretty woman that Magnus had chosen yet.
“Sure,” he said, reaching out for the book. She quickly showed him the page and Hikaru couldn’t help but noticed that Magnus’ signature was right there. He looked up. “You want me to sign on the same page?”
“Yep.” She nodded.
From the corner of his eyes, Hikaru could see Magnus walking over. Gosh, he wanted to get it over quick. Hikaru didn’t want to be in a situation where Magnus could somehow confuse their conversation with Hikaru being mean to his latest girlfriend or something.
He put the pen to the paper, choosing to leave a small space between his and Magnus’ signature. Writing it down, it almost felt like they were married. Just the two of them on the same page, existing forever together on the otherwise unoccupied white space.
There’s something intimate about that. Just like signing each other’s notation after the game ends. Hikaru had always lingered just a bit longer to admire Magnus’ cursive. It gave the illusion that he was this well-kept man, who’s prim and proper, and way too good for Hikaru.
Admittedly, he had been thinking about Magnus a lot. As Hikaru handed the book back to the woman (he should ask for her name soon), Magnus reached them. He wore a bright smile on his face, one that looked like hers, and as he stood there, Hikaru couldn’t help but silently acknowledge that they looked good together.
“Did you get what you wanted?” Magnus asked his girlfriend.
If Hikaru had more balls, he would ask for her name. But it had seemed a little too late them. He could continue to refer to her as the woman in his head, it wasn’t like they were going to interact much anyway.
“I did.”
Something about her made him feel incompetent. He looked away, not wanting to intrude on Magnus and his girlfriend. They looked in love, or so he thought. In his head, Hikaru still hadn’t moved on from the signatures. He wondered if she was planning to ask other people to sign there, then started to worry if someone else was going to squeeze their signature right between his and Magnus’.
That would be quite unfortunate, Hikaru had to admit. Surely, the woman knew better than to let other people sign on that very page. If she was a fan of chess, then she wouldn’t want that page to be sullied by anyone else either.
Hikaru could hear her laugh as he sunk into the depths of his own mind, wondering if Levon or Fabiano would be able to sign there because they were admittedly better players that he was.
“Where are you heading off to?” She asked. Clearly, she had an accent. Hikaru wanted to know where she came from. She didn’t sound European, at least not the type that Magnus used to date anyway.
“Just looking for lunch,” he tried to sound casual, though his heart was screaming otherwise. Hikaru didn’t want to be there and be nice to her, much less when he still thought that she was disgusting. Hell, he thought that he was disgusting.
Hikaru brought his hands to cross them over his chest, trying to draw the attention away from his stomach. Magnus raised a brow at that, but otherwise didn’t say anything.
“Oh, us too! How about we go together?” She tugged on Magnus’ arm, and he smiled at her. Hikaru felt like he was watching something that he wasn’t supposed to.
He didn’t want to go to lunch with them, didn’t want to stare at the woman as she laughs at Magnus’ words or see how Magnus softens up to her. But what else can he say?
“Sure.” He said bitterly. Hikaru looked at how she was holding onto Magnus’ shirt and did his best to pretend like he didn’t care about being so close to the same man yet never being able to do the same.
Whatever happened to that pretty boytoy, anyway? Hikaru had taken a liking to him too. The boy’s Instagram was filled with Magnus’ face, much more than his other lovers or toys or whatever he chose to call them. Out of all the lovers that Magnus’ had, the boy had posted him the most. Sometimes, there would be a hint of bicep just at the corner or a picture of Magnus’ face with lipstick all over to show the world that the boy had the world champion wrapped around his finger.
It was revolting, but Hikaru could never take his eyes away. It never once felt like he was intruding. Maybe he was gay. Hikaru had been thinking about it more and more as of late. He would lay down on his bed at night and scrolled through the potential lovers of his dear rival and found himself wondering if he could also be on the other side of the camera for once in his life.
At first, Hikaru thought that it was just him being lonely. So he tried to find a girlfriend, someone to keep him company. But that didn’t help. So Hikaru had been trying out a few things with men, and though it had been better, it didn’t help erase the sinking feeling that he had in his stomach every time they kissed him.
The thought swam in his head as the car took them to whatever restaurant that Magnus suggested. He said on the side that was closest to the World Champion, with the girlfriend sat at the far corner. Perhaps Magnus thought that Hikaru was eyeing up his girl.
He didn’t need to worry about that at all, Hikaru thought as he savoured the little touches that their thighs had whenever the car drove over the little bumps on the road. Magnus should be more worried about the dirty things that Hikaru had been doing while thinking of him as of late. Oh, if only he knew.
Shamelessly, Hikaru spread his legs a little more, wanting to feel Magnus a little better. Though they were separated by the cloth that was wrapped around their legs, he cherished the warmth that spread between them. Magnus had grown a bit too, since they last met. He’s bigger than Hikaru now, and when their legs brushed up against one another, he could feel the slight muscle forming underneath, in the leg that was much bigger than his own.
“You okay?” Magnus asked, putting a hand on Hikaru’s knee to check on him. How sweet. If that was how he asked Hikaru about things, one can only imagine how much more gentle he was with his lover.
“Yes.” He answered softly, subconsciously mimicking how the woman on the other side of Magnus sounded. “I’m good.”
He was better than good, Hikaru hoped that Magnus wouldn’t lift his hand off of him at all. As wished, instead of lifting his hand away, Magnus doubled down by squeezing his thigh, putting pressure on the soft flesh as if he was claiming him. It sent a signal right to Hikaru’s crotch. His cock throbbed and his heart jumped in joy.
When he looked up at Magnus’ face, however, the other man wasn’t even looking at him anymore. The Norwegian very clearly had his eyes on his girlfriend, but he was still touching him, occasionally squeezing Hikaru’s thigh like he was the one that was hitched with him romantically.
Hikaru’s face was hot the entire ride. He’s pretty sure that he was red in the face, whenever Magnus moved his fingers, he would silently pray that the other man wasn’t trying to move his hand away from his flesh. Hikaru kept on staring at them, memorising the digits for his bedtime routine after. He couldn’t help but feel dirty. Hikaru kept himself still during most of the car ride, trying his best to make sure that Magnus’ hand was comfortable on him.
He didn’t dare look up, scared that doing so would break Magnus out of the illusion that he had which made him touch Hikaru in the first place.
The feeling continued until they reached the restaurant. And even after they placed the order, all Hikaru could do was smile and pretended like nothing was happening to his heart as he stared at the two very attractive people in front of him. He wondered if Magnus was always like that. He seemed so different from how he usually was over the board.
The Magnus during lunch was sweet and attentive, he spoke softly to the girlfriend—Hikaru had learnt that her name was Maria—and touched her gently like she was the most precious thing in the world. It wasn’t like Hikaru didn’t know what that felt like. He had been the subject of much love and adoration from women and, lately, men alike.
He yearned so badly to get the same treatment from Magnus, though. Hikaru knew now that he was too old to deny that feeling any longer.
Just as he thought about it, Magnus turned to him. “How have you been, Hikaru?”
He wanted to kiss him. Hikaru realised then that Maria had gotten up and walked to the bathroom. He wanted to say so many things to the man in front of him, and most of those things would result in him getting slapped in the face by Maria when she returned and being called a weirdo by Magnus, before being ostracised forever.
He bit the bottom of his own lips, looking up at Magnus while trying to pretend like Maria didn’t exist. “I’ve been great.”
“Heard you’ve been busy.” Magnus murmured, and for a moment, he almost sounded bitter. But that couldn’t be. Whatever that comment was about, Magnus had nothing to be salty about regarding Hikaru’s life.
He didn’t know what the younger meant by that anyway. The atmosphere seemed to shift, and Hikaru found himself digging through his brain to see what he could have done to anger Magnus that way. He didn’t dare point the tension out either, worrying that it was just his own mind doing tricks on him. For all Hikaru knew, the thing about Magnus squeezing his thigh in the car earlier could have been his hallucination too.
“Yeah, I’m trying to make those greens, y’know?” He tried to make a joke, assuming that Magnus must have been referring to all the tournaments that he had been attending as of late. It was true too, Hikaru was trying to make money while distracting his own brain from thinking about Magnus too much by hooking up with random men in whatever city that he happened to find himself in.
“I didn’t know you had sex for money.”
“What?” He was taken aback, so much so that he didn’t even yell.
“Don’t act clueless, Naka. You’ve been seen with about 10 men this month.” Somewhere alone that sentence, Hikaru thought that Magnus would have ended it with a question about him selling himself.
He started to tear up at the accusation. It wasn’t like it wasn’t true. But Hikaru wasn’t even getting paid to be taken to bed by those men. He had been chasing the presumed high of being with Magnus, chasing an unknown feeling that he had been dreaming about since he realised that he might want to be with Magnus more than the Championship that the younger man held.
“That’s rude.” He choked. “You don’t see me asking the same of you, Magnus.” The bitterness came out. He didn’t even know what he was saying. Magnus and him didn’t owe one another anything to be asking those questions about each other at all. “Unlike me, you’ve been with more people than I can actually count.”
Magnus tightened his grip on the fork that his was holding. For a moment, Hikaru thought that he might reach for him and apologise, but no. He just looked at him like Hikaru had just said something that wasn’t supposed to be said. And when Maria returned, it was as if the conversation hadn’t happened at all.
It lingered in his head, though. Hikaru tried to be reasonable and stayed, but he couldn’t. The tears had gathered in his eyes, and they were slowly seeping out. He felt like the smallest and most helpless person in the world. Magnus and Maria were still whispering amongst themselves like nothing was wrong.
“Sorry, I have to go.” Hikaru sniffled and got out of his chair, dragging the wooden legs along the floor and making an ugly sound. It was as if Hikaru was a big, ugly monster that was trying to get out of a human-size out.
“Huh? But—” He could hear Maria called after him when he walked through the door, but it was too late.
“I didn’t know you had sex for money.”
The sentence echoed in his mind all night. Hikaru went back to his hotel room and cried. He wept his heart out and thought about Magnus. About his face, his hair, and his fingers. The very same fingers that were squeezing his flesh just hours before.
How dare he? How could he say such a thing to him? Hikaru couldn’t understand it. When Hikaru was reading all those things about Magnus bedding everyone he saw, he never once called him a womaniser or anything as degrading. Sure, Hikaru was sleeping around with many people, but that wasn’t his business at all.
He tossed on his bed, drying tears were starting to cool off on his cheeks and Hikaru felt himself calming down. It was like the sign of a rainbow after a long rain. He reached for his thigh, bringing it closer to his body and squeezed the part that was right above the knee, the same spot that Magnus’ hand was on.
Hikaru couldn’t help it. The sensation made his cock jerk to attention, just like it did in the car since the time that Magnus’ thigh brushed against his. He felt like a cheap, dirty whore as he reached for his crotch with the other hand, palming his cock as he thought about the hand.
Magnus’ fingers were so big. Hikaru leaned back and started to moan. He was breathing shallowly, whimpering and sloppily crying as he pulled his cock out to stroke himself. No doubt, the World Champion’s fingers would cover the entire length. Hikaru had a rather modest cock, and most of his partners loved to play with it while they fondled with his ass, fingering, pegging, or fucking him.
That night, Hikaru imagined Magnus doing the same. He pulled his own legs all the way to his chest and reached for his hole, fingering it open slowly. “Oh…Mag—” He didn’t dare moan the full name, scared that another colleague was right next door and could hear him. “Please…” He whimpered.
In his head, Magnus was scolding him again for being a needy slut. A dirty, wanton whore who wanted the attention of someone who wanted nothing to do with him. Hikaru’s fingers pumped in and out of his hole, Hikaru clenched around the digits desperately, holding onto himself like it was really Magnus.
“I’m sorry.” He sobbed. His cock jerked against his stomach, hard and ready, needing attention. It was red at the tip, but Hikaru didn’t care. He had came untouched so many times before that it wouldn’t make any difference by then. He was getting close too. Oh, how he wanted Magnus to be there so badly, for the other man to kiss him and tell him all the sweet thing as he fucked Hikaru deep.
A small spurt of white semen shoot out of his penis, painting Hikaru’s stomach. He clenched around his own fingers one last time, feeling tired of crying and coming. “Sorry for being so bad…”
When Magnus grew, so too did his taste and his companies. They became repetitive and unimaginative, so much so that Hikaru began to be tired of them. Unlike the initial crowd of slender men and women, with pretty sharp noses and long thin legs, Magnus’ company was now shorter, a bit more plump but still considered small by conventional standards.
They were boring choices, but it wasn’t like Hikaru was someone who could be compared to them in the first place, so the most that he had done was rolled his eyes and pretended like it wasn’t a topic that interested him.
His mother, in particular, was making it hard for him to do that. She would send him photos, asking him if he had seen it yet because she thought that he was also into gossiping about it like she was. In fairness, he had always entertained her when it came to chess gossips. But Hikaru found it hard to engage with anything related to Magnus as of late.
He didn’t care. Hikaru reassured himself of that fact every time he stared at a different face. The one that was in his phone right now wasn’t striking enough to evoke any reaction from him anyway.
The young man had a short, rounded face. He’s pretty short, probably one of the shortest one that Magnus had collected yet. In a photo together, his head barely reached Magnus’ shoulder. He’s plump too, but at least it made him look soft, more approachable. Hikaru stared at the picture and couldn’t help but felt like he was looking at something all too familiar.
True to Magnus’ type, as far as Hikaru noticed anyway, the man had pale skin. It’s a pretty contrast to the jet black hair which was wore slightly curly. Yes, Hikaru had to admit that he was pretty. He texted the same sentiment to his mother. However, it was hard to say more. He didn’t look like he walked out of a magazine and nothing about him screamed expensive nor composed.
Sighing, Hikaru switched away from the messaging app to social media where the he was pleasantly surprised by what was being talked about amongst all the chess gossips. He, Hikaru Nakamura, was trending right next to Magnus.
It would appear that some fans and colleagues thought that the young man whom Magnus was caught with was Hikaru himself. He chuckled at the discussions, where some had teased that it only took them 10 years to find their ways to each other.
If only that was true. Hikaru turned over and looked at the pictures of Magnus and his latest beau. From that angle, the man did look like him. Perhaps, it was the fact that he was also Asian. He was still notably smaller than Hikaru, though. That much was obvious.
Hikaru touched his stomach, feeling it protruded out. It was ugly, the ugliest part of his body. He squeezed his legs together and stared at those thick thighs, those were the other ugly things about him. Hikaru was way too chubby to be compared to the little doll that Magnus had in his arms. The realisation was so sickening that it almost made him puke.
It wasn’t fair. If Magnus’ type was changing to someone who looked a lot like him, then why won’t Magnus give him a chance too? It wasn’t like he hadn’t screwed around with chess players who were in his crew before.
He, too, wanted to be in the orbit of Magnus’ warmth. Hikaru had seen it many times before. Magnus loved to keep his toys together and make them a little jealous about each other once a while, but it was clear that they were all collectively protected and loved. He wanted that too. If chess capability was a part of it, then why can’t he be the part of his…of Magnus’ girls or boys or whatever it was?
He wondered what it felt like to fall asleep in Magnus’ arms. There have been many instances of photos coming out with one of the girls laying on Magnus’ chest, or with their arms looped around his neck as they intimately shared a conversation. Hikaru himself had even sat in a venue where Magnus had his hand on his boytoy for most of the evening and no one said a thing.
That must feel so grounding, to be guided and held by those arms. Maybe if Hikaru had his love, then life wouldn’t feel so empty.
He had been starving himself again. Around a week after seeing those pictures of Magnus and that pretty man, Hikaru had been periodically starving and bingeing his meals. In some days, he could go all day without eating, then the day after, he would start off with a big meal to compensate for the starvation that he did the day before.
It was all very counter-productive, but Hikaru couldn’t stop himself once he started. Sometimes, when he felt hungry, he would scroll through the pictures of Magnus and one of his lovers, then Hikaru could feel the hunger being curbed right as it was coming up.
At least he was seeing results. Hikaru had lost a bit of weight, though it really should have been a lot more. If only he had a little more discipline.
He slept naked and would stand in front of the mirror for about half an hour after he woke, checking to see if any other parts of his body had grown a little thinner. Sometimes, he would cry in front of it, stumbling to his knees and clutching his chest as he thought about how much bigger he was compared to those arm candies around Magnus.
During those times, Hikaru wished that he was born into a different body. One that wasn’t as lazy and rotten as the one he was occupying.
The starvation and bingeing had to stop when he was called up for another tournament. That time, it was the Olympiad. One that he hadn’t been attending since he got bitter about Fabiano getting the number one table over him.
He was visibly smaller, his mother told him as much. But Hikaru still thought that it wasn’t enough yet. He didn’t fight back against her words when she told him to eat, though. And when she tagged herself along with him for the tournament, he didn’t say much either.
His mother had taken to cooking and feeding him, even on the plane, she would nudge him to eat. Hikaru was too tired to complain. His body, while now in a more acceptable size, was still lazy. He found it hard to move and even harder to just think.
Embarrassed and overwhelmed, Hikaru chased her away to go on a walk when they settled down in the hotel room. About ten minutes after, a few knocks landed on his door.
“Did you forget the card?” he yelled. It was an unfortunate time, Hikaru was about to take a nap.
Opening the door, Hikaru half expected his mother to say something cheesy about forgetting the room card, but he was instead greeted with a different face entirely.
“Hey,” Magnus said.
He didn’t know what to say. Hikaru only hard shorts on and a big T-shirt, but it wasn’t like Magnus was dressed in anything better, so he relaxed. They weren’t in front of cameras, Hikaru didn’t have to be presentable.
“What do you want, Magnus?” Hikaru asked, glancing to the side to see if Magnus had bought his latest conquest with him.
“Can I come in?”
What for? He wanted to ask. “Sure,” Hikaru said reluctantly. It was unfortunate. He only wanted to be seen by Magnus when he’s a little slimmer, only then would the chance of Magnus choosing him could be higher than 0.
He watched as Magnus walked in. It wasn’t a pretty room to look at. His clothes were spilling out of the luggage and there were food that his mother had bought over from America. It looked stuffy too, with way too many things and not cold enough to nurse two people in. He wondered if Magnus found it as disgusting.
“Nice room.” The younger man complimented, and suddenly, there was nothing wrong with the room anymore in Hikaru’s eyes.
“Aren’t we all put in the same room?” He tried to act nonchalant.
“Yeah, but yours is more homey. Domestic.” Magnus grinned, he then gestured to the bed. “Can I sit?”
“Sure.”
Much to his surprise, Magnus did more than just sit. He laid on his back down on Hikaru’s bed and stared at his ceiling, as if trying to avoid eye-contact as they continued the conversation. Hikaru shamelessly took a seat on the bed too, keeping close but not touching so that he wouldn’t be too blatant in his yearning for the other man.
“You lost some weight.” As always, Magnus was as blunt and straightforward as a knife.
Hikaru fiddled with the hem of his shirt at the observation, hesitant and shy at the same time. He wondered if that was something positive. Perhaps, his exposed collar was a good thing. He wanted to know if Magnus liked to see them. His lovers usually had very strong, protruding collarbones.
“Yeah, I guess.” He pretended to not care about both the weight loss and Magnus’ acknowledgement of it. With Magnus’ eyes still trained on the ceiling, Hikaru let his hand spread over the mattress, edging closer to where Magnus’ left leg.
In shorts, the Norwegian legs were rather exposed to him. Hikaru could see the hint of muscle just under the skin. Even while relaxed, combined with Hikaru’s visible change in body mass, Magnus’ body was much bigger than his own. The knowledge made his cock stir. He wanted to be held like many other men and women before, wanted to lay on his chest like the toys that he always saw on Instagram.
“I saw your mother downstairs. She told me where your room was.” Magnus turned his body to the side, watching Hikaru from the corner of his eyes.
That made sense. Hikaru hadn’t even thought to ask. His head was filled with Magnus. Thoughts of wanting to kiss him, to be praised by him, to be held, and more importantly, to be seen and loved in the way that many other had already experienced before him. How could their lives be so entangled yet so distant at the same time?
“That’s nice of her.”
“Are you not curious to know why I want to see you?” He asked, reaching for Hikaru’s hand that was closest to him.
Hikaru tried not to hiss in satisfaction when they touched. He finally got it. Magnus’ was tracing his knuckles softly with his thumb, cradling his hand like he cared about Hikaru. He looked up to find the World Champion’s eyes trained on his skin, paying as much attention to Hikaru as he did with those other before.
“You wanted to gloat?” He replied with a question, referring to the tournament in St. Louis where Magnus had beaten him so efficiently that the commentators had called it a dismantling that they had never laid eyes on before.
“Heh.” Hikaru earned a chuckle. Magnus’ thumb was pressing into his flesh now, it was bordering on painful, but he savoured it. “I can feel your bones, Nakamura. What are you doing to yourself?”
Hikaru must be mistaken or his ears must be broken because Magnus sounded both mad and disappointed. Wasn’t that what he wanted in a companion? Or was it so insulting to Magnus that Hikaru was trying to fit into his body type? He was so taken aback that he wanted to puke.
“It’s none of your business, Magnus.” It took a lot of strength but Hikaru pulled his hand away, shrugging off the other man’s hand even though it pained him to do so.
“I’m just worried about—”
“—Shut up!” Hikaru wanted to slap him. He wanted to punch Magnus and cry. He wanted to dig a hole, jump into it, and never have to see Magnus again.
The World Champion was already sitting up, and he was reaching for Hikaru again like he was some sort of uncontrollable animal. “Hikaru, please.”
“No, fuck you, Magnus.” Hikaru pushed him away. The younger man looked shock, like he hadn’t expect Hikaru to blow up that way. Well, what was he expecting when he came into Hikaru’s room and insulted his appearance and intention like that?
“How could you say such a thing? It’s my body, it has nothing to do with you. It’s none of your business!” He stood up from the bed, staring at Magnus with anger in his eyes.
“I’m worried about your health. Your mother, she said you’ve been fainting. And look at you!” Magnus gestured to him with both hands. He’s looming over Hikaru now, and in any other situation, Hikaru would be begging to kiss him already. At that moment, he just looked mad, about as mad as Hikaru was at him.
“I have not been fainting.” He had been feeling weak, yes. Not fainting. Hikaru would know if he had been fainting.
“There are bruises on your body, Hikaru. Can you even tell me where they came from?”
He didn’t even know that Magnus looked at them, much less cared enough to ask about the origin. “They’re bites from bugs. There are many of them in Florida, I bet you don’t know that.” Hikaru didn’t know why he was still talking to that man.
Truthfully, he didn’t know where they came from. Granted, a lot of them were bigger than normal bug bites, but as far as Hikaru was concerned, he couldn’t remember a single time that he had fainted. What he had been doing more as of late was napping. That was the main concern that he was worried about.
Doing tournaments wasn’t fun when he wanted to close his eyes and tuned off most of the time. Magnus’ shoulders visibly sagged at the revelation. He looked at Hikaru like he had just told him a lie.
“That’s how you want to talk about it?” He’s much softer now. If only he could talk to Hikaru like that all the time.
“What’s it to you, Magnus?”
The younger man’s eyes roamed all over his body. Not in a hot way that was akin to a man undressing Hikaru with his eyes from across the dance floor, but more like pity. Like he was disgusted and repulsed by what Hikaru was.
The expression on his face made Hikaru want to disappear. He had been trying for weeks and months. He had worked so hard, did so much to fit in the perfect frame that Magnus would have preferred, and that was the reaction that he got. It felt like nothing was worth anything anymore. He must be so fucking worthless in Magnus’ eyes for him to still be disgusted by him in that state.
“I care about you.” Lies. Every word that came out of Magnus’ word was a lie. If he cared about him, then he wouldn’t treat Hikaru like trash, he wouldn’t do that to him. His mother must that put Magnus up to it.
Poor guy, Hikaru realised now that he stared at his face. His mother must have been so pestering that it pushed him to come visit Hikaru in that manner.
“Go away, Magnus.” Hikaru made up his mind. He walked back to the door, opening it and looking at Magnus with a vacant expression. “Leave. You did your job. You told me that you were worried, that’s enough now.”
“Hikaru,” Magnus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I really mean it. You—fuck—Can’t you see what I’m trying to do here?”
“Get out.” He swallowed tightly. All the images of Magnus’ boytoys and women ran through his mind. Each one more perfect than the other, each one getting more love from Magnus than he ever will.
It would hurt less if some of them weren't his literal colleagues. It would hurt less if Hikaru had been able to taste the exquisite taste of love and lust right from Magnus’ mouth just once instead of the venom that he had been pouring towards him their entire career.
“Sorry,” Magnus uttered when he walked past the door.
Hikaru wondered if he had ever thought of Hikaru in a positive way at all.
Magnus didn’t let him go after that. In between the games, on one of the break days, he asked Hikaru to talk once more.
They went to a quaint little restaurant by the shore. And because Hikaru was a hopeless romantic and his anger towards Magnus barely last longer than a night, he even wore something nice to make it feel more like a date in his head.
The hostess sat them outside by the water, and with every breeze of the wind, Hikaru felt like his dreams were coming true. Any of the residual anger that might have been leftover from the few days before seemed to dissipate with the wind.
As Magnus ordered, all Hikaru did was look at him. The younger man had assured him during the walk there that he knew everything there was to know about the menu and was more than eager to introduce Hikaru to the dishes that he would love.
“Just a few small plates.” Magnus assured him again once the waiter walked away. He was looking at Hikaru with eyes that he hadn’t thought he was capable of projecting before. “You’ll love it.”
Hikaru put his hand on the table, hoping for Magnus to reach for it like that day in his hotel room. He smiled, “Yeah, sure.”
He didn’t care about the food. All he cared about was the man in front of him. The thoughts that Magnus had put into that dinner and how he took over and guided Hikaru like he had been wanting to do that all his life.
It was so perfect.
It was so incredibly perfect that Hikaru felt like puking blood when, at the end of the tournament, instead of asking Hikaru to extend his stay to be with him, Magnus was photograph at a night club with some other twink.
He left the city feeling like he was garbage. Just some used toy that wasn’t even worth being invited back to Magnus’ room.