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In the do’s and don’ts of chess, everybody knows the center is where the game’s at.
It’s a rookie thing, really, the thing they teach you first.
Taehyung remembers being somewhere between nine and eleven, wasting Sundays away with his mother, telling him to develop your knights early, Taehyungie, they will win you the game .
And so Taehyung did, writing down more pointers on his notepad as the games went on; control the center, save the queen for last. Don’t gamble, think two steps ahead. Stay focused.
But when he stands in the center of this room, his mind is nothing but blank.
He can’t think about what his opponent is going to do next because he can’t think of what he is going to do. He has no knights, no kings to protect, nowhere to move. He’s stuck, and the game hasn’t even started.
“Well,” Jeongguk shrugs, kicking off his shoes with ease before he throws himself on the bed, then proceeds to sigh happily. “It could be a lot worse.”
Taehyung holds on tighter to the strap of his bag, resisting the urge to scoff.
Sure, he could be sharing a room with Minhyung–who isn't a bad guy at all, and Taehyung actually really likes him–but he's clumsy and seems to find everything really funny, and after being holed up in a minivan for five hours with nine other people, Taehyung doesn't think he can handle it.
However.
He's not particularly confident he'd choose Jeongguk over Minhyung anyway.
Because yes, Minhyung might talk a lot and sometimes Taehyung finds himself shamelessly tuning him out but at least he's not Jeongguk, who distracts him during matches and keeps getting the last bag of chips from the club's vending machine even though he knows they're the only good thing in Taehyung's life at the moment.
“How are you okay with this?” Taehyung asks, not bothering to hide the distaste in his tone.
From the bed, Jeongguk rolls over the covers, spreading his legs until he looks more like a squashed starfish than anything else. Then, as he laughs, he turns around until he's facing up at Taehyung, chin propped up on both hands.
“I mean,” he starts with a shrug. “It's not like there's anything we can do now. Plus, like I said, it could be worse.”
This time, Taehyung does scoff, shrugging off his bag as he does so. It makes a thump when it hits the ground, loud enough that it catches Jeongguk's attention, and he eyes at it for a moment before looking back up at Taehyung, the corners of his lip tugging up in the slightest bit.
“It's only for a weekend.”
“A weekend too long,” he snarks back right away, but it sounds more like a whine than anything else. “Now scoot over, I want the right side.”
It’s a generous comment, given that there isn’t much of a side to begin with, but he sticks his chin out regardless, holding Jeongguk's gaze.
He quirks up a brow. “What if I want the right side?”
“Do you?”
Jeongguk shrugs, cheeks pushing up as his grin grows. It's kind of endearing, in a way. It makes the corner of his eyes scrunch up, which only works in his favor, but it's not like Taehyung's about to tell him any of that.
“Not really.”
“Then move, come on.”
Though it makes his smile grow, Jeongguk complies, rolling off to the side in a way that it almost makes Taehyung laugh, but he bites it down just in time, hiding it when he turns to flick the lights off.
“I can't believe this is happening,” Taehyung mutters as he settles into the covers moments later, mostly to himself, but also to whoever is up there, purposely putting him through trying times.
By his side, he feels Jeongguk move, turns just in time to see him drape an arm over his eyes, “Just go to sleep, Taehyung.”
Taehyung glares at him, taking advantage of Jeongguk's eyes being covered and despite knowing how childish it probably is, the thought doesn't stop him from making a face at his words.
He turns again, sliding an arm under the pillow only to take it out right away before he's moving again, trying to get comfortable. The room feels too stuffy, or the pillow is too stiff and the sheet itches on his hip where his shirt’s ridden up and Taehyung lets out another huff, annoyed, and turns until he's staring at the ceiling, watching as the streetlights cast shadows in the dark. In a way, he thinks it might be the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
Granted, it would probably be prettier if he wasn’t lying next to his sworn nemesis–his very official enemy–but he'll take what he can get.
If he were to admit it–which he won't be doing, like, ever–Taehyung knows that Jeongguk is the only member who really gets him going. While every other match with his clubmates–like, say, Minhyung (sorry Minhyung) is dull and drawn-out, matches with Jeongguk spark something within him, and it's precisely because of that that Taehyung refuses to lose to him.
He would rather quit the club altogether.
“Will you please,” comes Jeongguk’s voice before he slaps a hand over Taehyung’s arm, keeping him in place. “–stop moving.”
Taehyung swats his hand off, an indignant scoff starting to form in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest.
"Your breathing is so loud," Jeongguk complains, but there's no bark to his words. His hand lingers in the air, unmoving.
"I'm sorry, would you like me to die instead?"
"Be my guest."
"Shut up," Taehyung says, but it sounds strained even to his own ears. "I was trying to focus and you–"
"To sleep?"
"Yes, Jeongguk. To sleep. The competition starts tomorrow and today's been really, really long, so yes. I'm trying to focus."
It's snarky, he knows. But he's uncomfortable and he doesn't know what to do with his arms and the mattress is digging into his back in a way that Taehyung is sure isn't supposed to dig and he doesn't know what time it is but he knows he wants to be asleep.
"Well, I want to sleep too," Jeongguk says, snapping out of whatever daze he was in, then moves his hand back until it's sitting over his stomach. "But your super-enhanced breathing is a little bit distracting, so if you could just–you know, not, then that'd be awesome."
Taehyung huffs, making a point of breathing even louder this time. He turns his head to look at Jeongguk, but he's taken aback by the loud rustling sound the covers make when he moves to lay on his side, and then everything just kind of stops.
If this were a game, Taehyung thinks, this would be his favorite part.
The middlegame, by all means, is the single most exciting part of chess to him. The moments where the greatest moves are made, where you lose or you win, depending on how well you play.
Taehyung doesn't know if they're playing right now, he doesn't know if they ever really stop. Maybe they don't, because the Jeongguk he spends hours playing against isn't really different from the Jeongguk he loves to quarrel with. Both Jeongguk's rile him up just the same, both get this small frown right between his brows when he knows Taehyung is winning, whether that's with words or moves, it doesn't really matter–or this annoying smirk, when it's the other way around.
In this game, in this moment, it's quiet between them, and the darkness in the room has Taehyung squinting his eyes to vaguely make out the outline of Jeongguk's face. His eyes are closed, long lashes sitting soundly over his cheek, and something tugs at Taehyung's chest. Softly, just once.
He allows himself a moment to stare–just to take it all in, the perfect bridge of his nose, the small scar he knows is sitting high on his cheek though he can barely see it right now–all the Jeongguk things about him, all the things Taehyung is usually sneaking small little glances of.
"I can feel you staring, you know."
Taehyung freezes. It's sudden and he wasn't expecting it, what with Jeongguk's eyes still closed, the rise and fall of his chest, soundly, like he was already halfway into a sleepy daze.
"I wasn't, I'm just–" Taehyung splutters, but his brain is still frozen and it's the first rule of the game and he's always been good at it but not when it comes to Jeongguk. Never with Jeongguk.
With him, every game is harder, high on adrenaline though they barely even move at all. But it's the look in his eyes when Jeongguk glances at him before focusing back on the board, the casual way in which he leans his chin on the back of his hand, waiting for Taehyung to make his next move. It's the thrill of playing–of testing, being tested. The feeling of knowing Jeongguk is just as good as him, that he enjoys this just as much as Taehyung does.
"Sorry," Taehyung says instead, because he's tired. It's been a long day and he doesn't want to play anymore. Tomorrow, he can find something else to blame it on, but for tonight, for this moment, he just wants to stop thinking, give his brain a little rest. "You're kinda pretty when you're quiet."
Jeongguk chuckles, but doesn't say anything else, and Taehyung leaves it at that. He doesn't move, not even when his arm starts to go numb from where it's squeezed under the pillow. Maybe if he doesn't feel his arm at all then he won't feel uncomfortable anymore. He knows his logic is flawed, but he figures he can at least wait until Jeongguk falls asleep to move again.
They're not friends, not really, but he likes to think of what they have as friendly competition. Yes, Taehyung refers to him as foes in his head, but that doesn't mean he likes to make Jeongguk suffer. He likes to beat him at chess and he likes seeing the pout on his lips when he's losing, yes. But sleep is precious and though it's debatable sometimes, Taehyung does have a conscience.
After another moment of nothing but quietness, Jeongguk shifts on the bed, and Taehyung's eyes fall closed almost on instinct, and he doesn't move at all. It's silly, like he's twelve again and trying to not get caught when it's past his bedtime and he's still awake, but he waits for whatever is next. Jeongguk's move.
It's quiet, almost raspy when he speaks, "Are you asleep?"
Taehyung thinks about not replying. He could wait it out, see what happens, pretend to fall asleep until Jeongguk does, until his breath evens out and he can sneak out of their room, steal a pillow from the hotel's lobby, find something else to hold, but he doesn't really want to do any of that. For one, he's tired, and moving seems like the very last thing on his wishlist.
So he huffs again, this time without a hint of annoyance, more on the funny side. He blinks one eye open, and he's proud of himself for not reacting when he finds Jeongguk looking back at him.
"Told you I can't focus," is all Taehyung says, sliding his numb arm from under the pillow. "I promise not to move anymore though. You can go back to sleep."
His arm tickles when he moves, which is weird because he can't really feel it. But he feels that it tickles, somehow, everywhere. In places that it shouldn't, like the tug at his chest when Jeongguk blinks down at him, his eyes holding something in them Taehyung can't quite understand.
Jeongguk hums, "Why do you need to do that anyway?" he asks, quietly. "Focus, I mean."
If Taehyung didn't know any better, he'd say he almost sounds sheepish.
But he does know better and there's nothing about this game they're playing, nothing about him that could ever make Jeon Jeongguk shy. It's just not possible, in the same way a pawn can't move backwards, there's no way Jeongguk can get like this.
"I can't really–sleep," Taehyung mutters, slowly. Like he's reconsidering telling him even as he's doing so. "Like, if I'm not holding something. It's hard."
"Like a pillow or something?" Jeongguk asks, voice coming out husky.
"Yeah, but I kinda slept through my alarm this morning and forgot to grab one, so."
There's a pause, a never-ending one that has Taehyung shifting again, though this time it's more to settle the awkwardness within himself than to find the right spot to sleep in. His arm is slowly coming to life again, and Taehyung keeps it over his stomach, waiting.
He thinks Jeongguk might have fallen asleep, with how quiet he's being, and usually, Taehyung would be offended that he fell asleep on him–though he can't say he's ever experienced it in the first place–but he can't really find it in himself this time.
They've had a long day, and they'll have an even longer one tomorrow, so he can't blame him.
With a sudden move, Jeongguk sits up, turning the lamp on before he's scanning the room, eyes squinting when he leans forward as if that would make him see further. It makes Taehyung snort, a small chuckle flying past his lips. But Jeongguk doesn't seem to catch it, just continues craning his head to cover the surface of their room.
Then, he announces, "We don't have any extra pillows."
Taehyung stares at him again, but it feels lighter this time. The tug on his chest not so tuggy anymore, a smile dangling from his lips when Jeongguk looks down at him. His hair is messy, like any kind of bed hair usually is, brown locks pointing in a lot of different directions in a way that's not supposed to look good, but somehow Jeongguk makes it work.
It's no secret that he's good looking, so Taehyung doesn't even feel guilty about having those thoughts about his Very Official Enemy.
"You could–uh," he starts, ruffling the back of his head before he drops back down on the bed, facing the ceiling. "You can hold onto me. If you want. If that would–y'know, help."
Taehyung waits. For the just kidding, for the real move.
He waits, and then waits some more, but it never comes. Instead, Jeongguk rolls on the bed, until he's laying on his side, eyes meeting Taehyung's with ease, like he doesn't even have to try hard to find his gaze. It makes the tug on Taehyung's chest return, gets stronger little by little, and he holds in a breath.
"And you're okay with that?"
Jeongguk shrugs, as much as he can while he's lying like he is, but still. He shrugs, and Taehyung finds it hard to look away. Finds it that he doesn’t want to, anyway.
"I told you," he speaks quietly, almost as if he's tired, too, of this game they've been playing. "Believe it or not, being stuck in a room with you is not the worst thing that can happen to me on a good day."
"I thought you hated me."
Jeongguk chuckles, his eyes closing momentarily when he does so, and the thing in Taehyung's chest tugs again. Once, harder this time, because his eyes wrinkle adorably for half a second, and it's not a surprise that Taehyung catches it for however little it lasts–because he's been looking at him for a while now. Because he's been looking at him for longer than this trip has lasted, because he can never look away anyway, and he hates it as much as he loves doing it.
"I know it takes a while for you to figure stuff out sometimes but," it's said in a whisper, like he wasn't intending on Taehyung to hear it. But the room is quiet and he's been paying attention. He's always paying attention. It's the game, the big rule. Taehyung wouldn't miss it if he tried. "In case you haven’t noticed, I kinda like being around you."
It's another one of those freezing moments, except this time it's almost brief, not so much of a moment but more of a bundle of seconds that aren't enough to stop him from inching closer, just a little bit, before he waits.
Waits some more.
Then mutters, "Okay."
And Jeongguk waits too, though he's quicker to react than Taehyung is, because he's always been like this–because that's what Taehyung likes about him anyway.
"Okay?"
"Yeah," Taehyung says again, his voice barely audible, the tug too strong. It's a big move, scary too, but it's one he's willing to take. "Okay."
It tugs again when Jeongguk shifts closer, another little bit, until there's nowhere else to move. Until all he can do is open his arms, waiting.
And it's Taehyung's turn now, his move–and there's something deep within himself that stirs nervously at the thought, but it's still not enough to stop him. His brain is resting anyway, he's broken all the rules already, and he wants to hold something. He wants to hold Jeongguk.
So he moves, despite the rules and the stirring, and he moves some more, until his head is laying on Jeongguk's chest, an arm draping over his torso.
It takes a moment, as new things usually do, until the awkward rubs off. Taehyung's eyes fall closed, breath stuck in his throat as he waits for the ball to drop, for the clock to run out. For Jeongguk to change his mind.
He doesn't, and Taehyung feels silly just thinking about it because Jeongguk has never changed his mind about anything in however long Taehyung's known him for. It's on-brand, sharp moves for a clear-cut guy.
It takes Jeongguk circling his arms around Taehyung for the awkwardness to dissipate, with moves that are slow, almost hesitant but not quite, and it feels definite when he settles a hand over Taehyung's back, only to move it up and down his spine in a touch that lasts.
"Is this okay?" Jeongguk asks, and Taehyung feels it before he hears it, the rumble in his chest when the words come out, followed by the steady beat of his heart.
It's nothing new, a heartbeat. A heart that beats. It's what hearts do, but he thinks there's something soothing about listening to Jeongguk's within this context. It's weird, too, because Taehyung doesn't really know much about him other than that he likes chess, looks good while playing it, and that when he wins, he gets this massive grin on his face that makes Taehyung think Jeongguk could light up the entire world if he wanted to.
"Yeah, it's–" Taehyung starts, but stops himself before it gets too much. The feeling in his chest, freezing when it goes all the way up to his throat. "It's actually really nice."
Jeongguk hums then, and the thing in Taehyung's chest tugs again.
It tugs, and tugs, and tugs, and it's then that Taehyung realizes that it wasn't tugging at his chest as much as it was tugging at his heart; and it makes sense then, why the smirks and the fleeting glances and all the teasing have always been so stirring, so heart-tugging.
Sleep starts to settle in, drowsing him when he mumbles out a, "Thank you."
"You sleep now," he hears Jeongguk say, his voice coming out as the softest thing Taehyung's ever heard.
He might be imagining it, and later, he'll blame all of this on exhaustion. But for now, he dozes off to strong arms around him, the barely-there feeling of something soft being pressed to the top of his head, something soothing, like it’s cotton-made but also like a goodnight kiss.
And it tugs.