Chapter Text
PARIS
A month goes by until they see each other again in Paris. She’s on edge the whole plane ride and can’t help remembering what happened last time and suddenly all she fucking wants is a drink. Her fingers are itching to wrap around a bottle of anything and she feels the blood prickling beneath her skin.
She doesn’t leave him a key at reception or even say hello to him when they see each other. She must look like she’s not okay because he just stares at her, his eyes clouded with worry as she walks past. She plays two games that day that she can barely focus on but wins anyway, they take her longer than they should and he notices from wherever he is.
She means to go to her room, honest to god she does but her fingers press a different button and then she’s standing outside the door of what is decidedly not her room. She should go, she should run, the blood is in her ears and she can feel her heartbeat in her stomach but she knocks anyway.
Benny opens the door and both his eyebrows fly up. “Beth.” he says dumbly. “I was about to… what are you doing here?”
“I want a drink.” she says simply. “I really, really want a drink.”
He stares at her, his eyes sad and then he steps away from the door. “Come in.” She closes the door behind her as he starts to tidy the room. “Sorry about the mess, I didn’t expect…”
“You’re right.” she comments and he glances at her. “My room is always nicer than yours.”
“I’m not a world champion.”
“But you’re Benny watts.” she drawls sarcastically and he scoffs a laugh.
She sits on the ottoman at the foot of his bed while he shoves dirty clothes back into his suitcase and opens a window to let some air in. He's wearing his version of casual clothing, like the way he dressed in those five weeks before paris. All T-shirts and jeans and those chains around his neck and that ring on his finger, his hair is unkempt and she wonders if he owns a brush. She realises she’s been staring into nothing for a while now because she finds him leaning against the desk, his arms crossed and his head cocked.
“Wanna play?” he offers, pointing to his board.
“Yes, please.” She needs the distraction.
They settle on the floor with their legs crossed and the radio playing softly in the background and they play round after round of speed chess. Beth wins most of the games but Benny wins a few, the earlier ones where she’s still in a daze and she can practically taste the vodka on her tongue. The more time she spends in his room, surrounded by his belongings and his smell and the more she looks at him, the less and less she wants to drink. If anything, he’s a new addiction which isn’t a good way to get over a previous one but she doesn’t care, not when she wishes she could melt him down and inject him directly into her veins.
“How did you stay sober in Russia?” he asks carefully, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands as he looks at the board.
“Uh…” she trails off, her cheeks growing hot. “I just thought about you.” that feels like a big revelation but Beth’s never been one for lying.
“What?” he breathes, his neck snapping up to look at her but she refuses to look back.
She moves her bishop. “I just thought about how disappointed you would be. How it would probably break your heart. I know you didn’t want to hear from me and that I hurt you, I know that, but…” she trails off again. “I just kept thinking about you and I couldn't do it, I wouldn't dare.”
She realises he hasn’t made a move yet and finally looks up. He’s frozen solid, his eyes swimming with emotions she can’t decipher, she’s never been good at that. Has he stopped breathing? Is he alive? She wants to crawl into a hole and disappear because he’s looking at her like she’s a brand new star in the sky, like she’s a new discovery on earth.
“I called.” he says eventually, blinking.
She frowns. “What?”
“I called you. When you were in Russia, I called. I got your number off Harry and I called and you didn’t pick up so I… so I didn’t call again. I thought you didn’t want to hear from me.”
“You thought I ignored you?”
“Pretty much.” he agrees, swallowing. “I understood. I said some hurtful things that I fully meant at the time and I was… i was stupid. I was wrapped up in my own self importance and wasn’t kind to you when you needed it most. So when you didn’t pick up, I understood.”
Her chest is heaving, like she just ran a marathon and she realises that her breathing spiked as his story hit closer and closer to home. She clears her throat, rubbing her sweaty palms on her knees. “I think…” She starts carefully, looking around the room. “I think we were both stupid.”
He laughs, a laugh that rips out of him without warning and she laughs back because she’s right, for people as intellectually superior as them, they are incredibly dumb. They spend the rest of the night playing chess and laughing and smiling and they fall asleep next to each other, fully clothed and grinning like two teenagers who have never touched each other before and Beth doesn’t think about drinking even once, not when Benny looks at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters.
OSLO
Both of them give up the pretence that they want separate rooms and Benny just moves into Beth’s much nicer room the moment he arrives. He called weeks ago to tell the federation he didn’t need one for himself, although he didn’t tell them who he would be sharing with. He thinks it would have ended up in Chess Review like some gossip magazine masquerading as news.
She’s setting up her board, wearing her casual clothes that only Benny has ever seen her wear when he walks in, suitcase in hand and smiling.
She grins. “Hi.” She says in that breathless voice of hers that makes him feel dirty. “I missed you.”
“If you keep looking at me like that I’m not going to be able to control what I do to you.” he assures, dropping his suitcase to the ground like he’s come home or something.
Her grin turns wicked. “You promise?”
Jesus .
He doesn’t even bother taking his coat off before they’re making out like horny teenagers left alone for the first time. She pushes the jacket off his shoulders until it crumples to the floor and his fingers trace the exposed skin of her midriff before trailing upwards to the back of her bra. His fingers burn against her waist and she feels like she’s being set on fire right then and there, her toes curling and the blood rushing to her ears. She has no fucking clue where she is right now.
The phone rings and she begrudgingly pulls away from him, her lips dragging through his teeth. “I gotta get that.”
“Fuck it.” He growls, his fingers tangled in bright orange hair as he kisses her again. They break apart only momentarily so he can pull her shirt off and she’s wearing the ivory bra he once said was his favourite. ( You have a favourite bra of mine? She’d laughed. He nodded, all serious. Yeah it’s the one I can see your nipples through . She hit him with her cushion.)
The phone rings louder if possible and Beth pulls away again, her lips deliciously bruised and he wants to throw the damned landline out of the window. “It’ll only take a moment.” She assures, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and stepping out of his embrace.
He’s embarrassingly ready to fuck her right there and he watches her lean against the desk, half undressed and ruined by his own mouth. She picks up the phone, glancing at him one more time.
“Hello?” Benny kicks his coat away and drops down into the ottoman at the end of her bed, just watching her speak on the phone. The light pouring in from the window behind her makes her look like an angel. “Yeah, of course that’s fine. We can get coffee when I’m back, I promise. There’s even space for you to stay, the house in Lexington is too big for just me.” Benny has never felt this emotion before but he’s almost 99% sure that it’s called jealousy and it’s already started to eat him alive. “Okay, bye.” She hangs up the phone and then turns back to him, a face splitting grin across her lips. She lets out a content sigh and cocks her head. “Hi.” She says softly but it doesn’t work this time.
“Who was that?” he says roughly.
“Uh, Townes.”
He stares at her. “And you invited him to stay in your home?”
She frowns. “Yeah.” She agrees. “I did.”
“Do you think that’s appropriate?”
“Excuse me?”
He chuckles bitterly and the sound grates at her ears like nails on a chalkboard. “Sorry let me rephrase, what the fuck are you thinking Beth?”
“What is wrong with you?” She snaps, reeling from the sudden change in mood. One second they’re morphed into one and the next he can’t get away fast enough.
“He’s clearly in love with you.”
“Are you delusional? ”
“Don’t talk to me like that.” He snaps. “You were in love with him weren’t you?” And Beth feels like she’s been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. How did he know? How in the world did he find out? She straightens and Benny recognises it as a sigh of defence.
“That was a long time ago.” She warns, the blood boiling in her veins.
“So you’re over that now?”
“Benny, you’re...”
“I’m what?”
“Well, first of all, you’re being an asshole.” She starts gravely, grappling for a cigarette in this trying time. “And second, I’m not in love with Townes anymore.”
“Why is he staying in your house?”
“He’s interviewing me for an article and Lexington is a long way out, are you…” she trails off, staring at him with her eyebrows furrowed and confusion swirling in her eyes. “Are you jealous?”
Yes. Yes. Yes. “No.”
“Right.” She clicks her tongue. “So you’re just being a dick. I see.”
“Exactly.” He agrees quickly, refusing to let the little green monster show its face to the world.
“In that case.” She starts again, lighting the cigarette and blowing a puff. “Get out.”
His eyes widen, only momentarily and only partially. “What?”
“If you’re going to behave like an asshole for no reason then I don’t want you here.” She assures. “So go on, get out.” She points to the door with her cigarette, her eyes hard.
He glares at her before snatching his coat and his suitcase from the floor and storming out of her really nice hotel room, slamming the door loudly behind him.
Beth rolls her eyes and smokes until they water and Benny stands on the other side of the door, not sure what to do. She swallows to bury the lump in her throat because she’s so frustrated she could scream cry into her cigarette. This was so stupid, she barely even understands what it was about.
Benny spends ten seconds calming down, his breathing returning to regular. He takes a few deep breaths and now that he’s no longer clouded by jealousy, he realises how stupid he’s been. He turns back, maybe to knock on the door, maybe just to walk back in but he can’t bring himself to do either, that feels like a breach of trust. She asked him to leave so he did, he doesn’t get to barge back in like that’s his right. He sighs loudly and carefully rests his forehead against the door, his eyes screwed shut.
She knows he’s there, she can feel his presence like a cosmic sixth sense. She’s become heartbreakingly aware of his existence in every part of her life and she can’t seem to run away from it. She desperately wants to reach through the door and squeeze the life out of him until he’s hers forever, she wants no one else to get in the way of what is arguably the best thing in her life right now.
She keeps the cigarette between her fingers as she walks towards the large wooden door and leans against it with her bare shoulder, the skin squelching against the varnished wood.
Her finger traces the designs on it before she speaks. “Benny?” She says softly.
“Yeah?”
“Are we done arguing?” She asks hopefully.
He lets out an audible sigh of relief and smiles like he can’t believe god blessed him with someone like Beth. “Yeah. We’re done.”
She opens the door slowly, like she’s letting him in for the first time and he reaches forward to wrap his arms around her waist and spin her around while she laughs ( oh my god you’re going to drop me). He places her back on solid ground, her bare heels digging into the carpet as she knots his shirt into her fist and pulls his face down to hers.
“You’re an idiot.” She mumbles against his lips.
“I know” He agrees softly, tucking orange strands behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”
AMSTERDAM
two weeks later and they’re walking through Amsterdam, their arms brushing against each other as they wander through the city. They don’t hold hands though, for many reasons including they’re cowards and don’t express their feelings . Holding hands feels too public for a relationship that doesn’t have a label nor even entertained the discussion of a label. Beth thinks that if she asked for a label that she would have to be open to the possibility of losing him entirely.
“I’m thinking of selling the house.” She says suddenly as they wander nonchalantly over a bridge.
“In Lexington?”
“No, my mansion in Hawaii.”
He smirks. “You would probably get a pretty penny for that.”
“Hawaii or Lexington?”
“Both. Neither.” He shrugs and the movement follows up and down the exposed skin of her arm. She picked a hell of a day to wear a sleeveless dress. “Where would you go?”
She sighs. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
He nods, staring at his feet with his palms clasped behind his back. He’s fighting he urge to reach for her hand, he feels like a little kid with his stupid crush. “Jolene?”
“She’s busy with her studies, living with me is not high on her list of priorities.” She points out, her eyes following the curves of the trees and tall buildings. “Russia was nice.” She adds as an afterthought, barely registering that she even spoke.
He stiffens, his posture frightfully straight. “Nice enough to live there?” he asks carefully, his voice measured and even.
“Maybe. I have contacts there, friends even. I wouldn’t have to start from total 0. More like 0.1.” she seems wildly unaware of the dilemma he’s currently going through but that’s only because she had more preparation for it than he did.
“Friends, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, avoiding her eyes.
“You’d like them.” She mentions, smiling and his heart squeezes because she’s not smiling about him but about her stupid friends in stupid Russia. “They remind me of your friends in New York.”
He scoffs. “Marxist drunkards?”
“How did you guess?”
“I’m surprised Russia has those.”
“None of them are technically Russian.”
“Like you then.” he remarks but his heart is breaking inside his chest and he feels like he could crumble to pieces. “Sounds like the perfect place.”
She’s surprised he agrees. “You think?”
He grits his teeth. “Yeah.”
“I don’t know, I think… I think I would miss the US.” I would miss you. “I have friends there too.” tell me to stay here, tell me to stay here with you, just say it, just say it. She desperately wants him to say something, anything, Just don’t go.
“You should do what’s right for you, Beth.”
She swallows, avoiding his eyes as they continue to walk across the canals of Amsterdam. “You don’t see a reason as to why I should stay?”
There’s only a momentary pause where he might actually say something, he might actually tell her he- “No. Do you?”
Her heart falls to the pits of her gut and she thinks she could throw up. “No.”
Neither realises the other’s heart is just as broken as their own. They’re both too busy trying to save face, trying to hide how they really feel. They’re very good at hurting each other, not very good at liking each other.
He sucks in a sharp breath, cricking his neck. “We should get back.”
“Right.” she agrees, nodding.
And that's how two of the smartest people they’ve ever known, make a stupid decision that they both instantly regret but are too stubborn to walk back on.
NEW YORK
Beth doesn’t presume that she can stay at Benny's for the New York invitational, nor does she ask and neither does he offer. She gets set up in another hotel room that he would say is nicer than his and she doesn’t know how she knows but she can just feel it in her bones that he won’t be knocking on her door at any point this weekend. She can’t place the feeling in her gut but it’s something like disappointment and sorrow and like she misses him already.
They’ve barely spoken, in fact, they haven’t spoken. Not even once.
Every time her phone rings she sprints across the house nearly tripping over her own two feet but it’s never him. She considers calling him, once, twice, three times. Her fingers itch to dial his number and just hear his voice but she can never bring herself to take the plunge.
It feels strange to be in New York alone. In other words, it feels strange to be in New York without him by her side. Every memory she has of this city includes him, his house, his face, his voice, his snarky comments and immeasurable narcissism, it feels wrong to be here without him. He doesn’t come to her games, she doesn’t see him in the crowds nor does she see him hanging around anywhere in the hotel. He’s well and truly not here.
And that grates at her more than she is willing to admit. By the second day It drives her to wrap herself in a coat, hail a taxi and head straight to his underground cave. She feels silly, like she should turn back now why she still has her pride intact. Her body moves on its own accord and knocks before she can tell it not to.
He swings it open, wearing that stupid kimono and a surprised look on his face. “Beth?” he says, like he doesn’t quite believe that she’s standing before him.
“You didn’t visit.” she says simply.
“Uh, no I didn’t.”
“Why?”
He cocks his head. “You want to do this now?”
“When else are we going to?”
He sighs. “Alright.” and then steps away from the doorway to allow her in. She shrugs off her coat and swings it over the banister, walking carefully through his home like she’s a guest even though she lived here once. “Would you like something to drink?” he offers, more as a default.
“No.”
“Okay.”
They stand on either side of his shitty dining table, just like they used to when he was teaching her how to be a better player. This feels strangely nostalgic but it settles in the forefront of her brain like a painful reminder of what they used to have that was simple and unfiltered. “Why are you being strange.”
He responds too fast. “I’m not.”
“You didn’t call.” she points out.
“Neither did you.” well, he’s not wrong there.
She can’t help but stare at him. Her fingers feel hot and her throat feels tight and she feels dizzy like she could pass out. She swallows, her voice soft and quiet when she speaks. “I… I missed you.” she feels like she just gave away a piece of her heart for him to do as he pleases. He could close his hand into a fist and squeeze until she can’t breathe and she would simply let him.
He licks his lips, his eyes hard. “Not enough to stay in the US.”
“What?”
“You said there was nothing keeping you here.”
She stares. “ You said there was nothing keeping me here.” she almost cries, her voice disbelieving.
He sighs loudly, running a hand through his hair like she’s seen him do a hundred times before. “Beth, I get it, Russia was good for you, who am I to stand in the way of your happiness?”
“Benny, I-”
“It’s okay.” he repeats but his eyes are sad and she thinks his heart is breaking too. “I understand and I don't… I can’t stand in the way of that.”
Her shoulders drop like she’s given up, given up pretending, given up being alone, given up lying to his face. She can’t keep doing this, she can’t keep acting like she's okay with this, one of them has to make the first move and it’s clearly not going to be him or maybe she misread the whole situation but it’s too late now because- “But you make me happy.”
You’d think she slapped him by the way he flinches. His jaw sets and his eyes are glazed over with a layer of ice. “Don’t make this harder for me Beth.” he warns. “I’m trying to be a good friend.”
She scoffs bitterly, her eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists so that she doesn’t do something stupid like punch him. Or kiss him, she’s still deciding. “Oh, is that what we are, friends ?” she mocks and the word tastes like poison on her tongue, she honest to god never wants it to pass her lips ever again.
“Yeah. friends.”
“I don’t want to be your friend.” she says roughly.
He seems surprised but it doesn’t last long. “Alright then,” he says slowly, crossing his arms over his chest like he’s protecting himself from something. “Fuck off.”
She doesn’t even miss a beat. “No.”
“No?” he repeats.
For the first time in this conversation, she steps away from the table that separates them, like it’s some metaphor for the barrier they uphold between them. She feels exposed and vulnerable and her voice is excruciatingly honest when she speaks.
“Benny I don't want to be your friend because that’s not good enough for me.”
“What?” he breathes, this can’t be, this can’t be, this can’t be happening .
“I’m sick and tired of us dancing around the subject.” she huffs angrily. “I can’t pretend anymore Benny, Fuck Russia.”
“ What?”
“ Fuck Russia.” she repeats. “Fuck it, i couldn’t give less of a fuck about Russia or moving there or anything else I just want you, you self obsessed imbecile, I can’t just have the you I get when I see you once I a month, that’s not enough because I want all of you.” she sucks in a sharp breath and holds it for the impending blow of rejection but at least then she’ll know, at least then she’ll be able to move on without expecting him to knock on her door in every new city.
He smirks but his body is suddenly on edge, every hair is pricking upwards and he can feel his heartbeat in his feet. “You called me an imbecile.” he comments, like that was the only thing he heard.
“Stop dancing.” she orders.
He hesitates for a moment, his feet rooted on the spot where he’s safe on the other side of the table. But this is Beth and she’s made her feelings clear which they don’t do or at least he doesn’t do, and if he doesn’t do anything then she’ll probably go to Russia just to spite him.
“Okay. No more dancing.” he agrees, moving around the table to stand unobstructed before her. He wrings his fingers together anxiously, looking around like he’ll find courage in the lining of his walls. He looks like he’s been put through hell and his eyes are more vulnerable than she’s ever seen when he finally looks her in the eye, clearly the nerve built up. “I love you.” he says matter of factly, like he didn’t just reach into her chest and violently yank her heart out just so he could hold it and claim it as his own. “I have loved you from the moment you beat me at speed chess.”
The smile he gets in return is blindingly brilliant and it knocks the air out of his chest. He wants to immortalise that smile on the inside of his eyelids so that he can see it even when his eyes are closed because he’s never experienced it before, not this unadulteratedly happy. “Looks like I win.” she remarks. “I’ve loved you longer.”
He stares, eyes wide and dumbfounded. “We’re so fucking stupid.”
She carefully reaches for his hand, tangling her fingers in his and it feels like they’re doing this for the first time. It makes sense that it feels that way because this is the first time. It always felt too intimate for an undefined relationship and even now as they hold each other’s hands it feels like a private moment they’ve interrupted between two people who have been the centre of each other’s worlds for years now.
He never realises just how much he wanted to simply hold her hand, to hold her face and tell her that he loves her. He never thought this day would come, it never even crossed his mind that she could feel even a modicum of what he felt and he wonders if he’ll wake up tomorrow and discover it was all a dream. He could live with that if it meant he would have some kind of memory of finally having Beth to himself, even if it was just for one night, and even if it was all fake.
“Hey, Benny?” she says softly, her thumb stroking the back of his hand.
“Yeah?”
She looks up from their intertwined fingers and focuses on his face. “Ask me to stay in New York.”
“What?” he says dumbly, his heart pounding against his rib cage like it could burst out of his chest.
“Ask me.”
He smiles, his other hand caressing her face as he pushes the hair away from her cheek and behind her ear. She unknowingly leans into the movement with a satisfied sigh. “Beth Harmon.” he starts. “Will you stay in New York?”
She places a soft kiss against his palm, tears stinging the corner of her eyes. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Benny Watts."