Happy anniversary, everyone!
Title: Not For Lack of Trying
Rating: PG, on account of Billy's language
Warnings/Notes: Canon happened. So did my own particular view of post-canon, for what reassurance that is. No, really, this is almost fluff! Er. Anyway: this was written for billyjoeyslash's anniversary (hooray! :blows noisemaker:), and for prompt 35, "sixth sense."
Summary: Chess on Harvard Square.
NOT FOR LACK OF TRYING
*
The chess guy was there. Of course he was there, he was always there, unless it was pouring rain and even then he sat just inside Au Bon Pain with his cup of coffee and little sign and cheap plastic chess pieces and a little fold-out chessboard.
Billy sat down opposite him, and dropped his money onto the table. The chess guy picked it up quickly, folded it, and tucked it away somewhere. "Black or white?"
"Black, please."
The first few moves were made in silence. A couple of tourists in polo shirts and cameras noticed them, and drifted over to watch intently. A young woman perched on the railing, sketchbook open, and started drawing.
"How's it going?"
Billy tapped his fingers on the table. They were in public, and Joey could look for himself.
Joey leaned over Billy's shoulder to look at the board, then rocked back on his heels with a soft 'huh.' "You castled already?"
No shit, Sherlock. Billy moved a pawn forward to threaten his opponent's knight.
"He's not gonna go there," Joey said. "He's after your -- yup, see?"
Maybe he could pretend to stretch, Billy thought gloomily, and smack Joey without anybody noticing. He grimaced down at his lost bishop, tapping his fingers again while he tried to figure out where next, then noticed the chess guy grinning at him. "What?"
"No kibitzing, son," the guy said, voice low. "If he wants to play, he's gonna have to wait his turn."
If he wants -- Billy looked over his shoulder despite himself, despite who might be watching. Joey's eyes had gone wide, too. "I can't," Joey said, voice tight. "Don't give me that bull--"
"Just tell him where to move," the chess guy said with a shrug. "Easy. You're not the first. I knew another guy once..."
Joey shut up after that, but it took most of the game before Billy's hands stopped shaking.
-end-
Rating: PG, on account of Billy's language
Warnings/Notes: Canon happened. So did my own particular view of post-canon, for what reassurance that is. No, really, this is almost fluff! Er. Anyway: this was written for billyjoeyslash's anniversary (hooray! :blows noisemaker:), and for prompt 35, "sixth sense."
Summary: Chess on Harvard Square.
NOT FOR LACK OF TRYING
*
The chess guy was there. Of course he was there, he was always there, unless it was pouring rain and even then he sat just inside Au Bon Pain with his cup of coffee and little sign and cheap plastic chess pieces and a little fold-out chessboard.
Billy sat down opposite him, and dropped his money onto the table. The chess guy picked it up quickly, folded it, and tucked it away somewhere. "Black or white?"
"Black, please."
The first few moves were made in silence. A couple of tourists in polo shirts and cameras noticed them, and drifted over to watch intently. A young woman perched on the railing, sketchbook open, and started drawing.
"How's it going?"
Billy tapped his fingers on the table. They were in public, and Joey could look for himself.
Joey leaned over Billy's shoulder to look at the board, then rocked back on his heels with a soft 'huh.' "You castled already?"
No shit, Sherlock. Billy moved a pawn forward to threaten his opponent's knight.
"He's not gonna go there," Joey said. "He's after your -- yup, see?"
Maybe he could pretend to stretch, Billy thought gloomily, and smack Joey without anybody noticing. He grimaced down at his lost bishop, tapping his fingers again while he tried to figure out where next, then noticed the chess guy grinning at him. "What?"
"No kibitzing, son," the guy said, voice low. "If he wants to play, he's gonna have to wait his turn."
If he wants -- Billy looked over his shoulder despite himself, despite who might be watching. Joey's eyes had gone wide, too. "I can't," Joey said, voice tight. "Don't give me that bull--"
"Just tell him where to move," the chess guy said with a shrug. "Easy. You're not the first. I knew another guy once..."
Joey shut up after that, but it took most of the game before Billy's hands stopped shaking.
-end-