Chapter Text
LEXINGTON
Beth returns to the US after spending six months doing nothing and enjoying herself in Russia, playing non competitive chess, not drinking any alcohol and taking a real, genuine break from her life. She decides that after six months she is ready to return to her home, to the world of ultra competitive chess and to her friends.
Jolene calls her once a week and they talk about what’s changed in their lives, how her studies are going, if her man has left his wife yet. ‘ Cracker, relax, I’m not in a rush to settle down with anybody’ . Harry calls a couple of times and it’s nostalgic, a warm discussion filled with kindness and laughter and she hears from Mike and Matt a couple of times, they’ve both become a part of FIDE and travel the world, organising and improving chess.
She doesn’t get a call from Benny, nor did she expect to. She also doesn’t call him, she thinks he wouldn’t expect her to either. She thinks that maybe time away and space might be good for them, maybe then they can be friends again. She would like that; to be friends with Benny. But she would understand that maybe it’s not them, for him, that maybe being nothing is what’s best.
She arrives in Lexington to stacks of mail and dust over every surface. There’s nothing in the fridge apart from an old bottle of orange juice and butter. Arguably she should get rid of both of those things because there’s no way they’re in date. She doesn’t even need to open them to check. She considers calling Benny, maybe sending him a thank you note for his help six months ago but that feels silly and late.
She fiddles through the mail to find various invitations to exhibitions and opens where she can play or simply show her face and make the event special. She’s missed some of them, it seems the invitations were sent many months ago and the closest one is already in ten days just over in Indianapolis. She doesn’t even bother unpacking or taking her makeup off before she finds herself dialling the number at the bottom of the invitation to RSVP yes to a very stunned organiser on the other end of the line.
“ Miss Harmon we didn’t think… well, it was a bit of a long shot. We heard you had stayed in Russia.”
“I’m back.” She says simply, never one for unnecessary conversation.
“ That’s incredible, we would love to host you. Would you be willing to hold a talk? And will you be playing?”
“Uh.”
INDIANAPOLIS
Indianapolis is hot and humid and her hair sticks to the back of her neck. It’s been some time since she cut it and she’s beginning to regret that when the sweat begins to drip down her back.
The Indianapolis exhibition lasts three days and she sees him on the second, because he turns up late. Of course he does, obnoxious narcissist, he constantly needs to be the centre of attention and turning up late, in the middle of day two is the way to do that. The second day’s games are laid out all over the private hotel area, reserved for guests (which she is) and spectators (which she also is), and she wanders around from game to game, looking at each player's tactics and direction.
Some ignore her, others try to, and more just blatantly stare. Eventually she realises she might be more of a distraction than a welcome presence and decides to go analyse boards of finished games. At least then they’ll be no one to distract.
That’s when she sees him. He’s wearing that stupid cowboy hat with that stupid knife on his hip when he waltzes into the hotel lobby like he owns it. She’s on the mezzanine of the first floor but her eyes land on him like a bee to honey. She feels like the wind has been knocked out of her, like a bucket of cold water was poured over her head and she was punched in the gut all at once. He looks good, his hair is longer and his eyes are bright and if she’s not mistaken he seems to be looking for someone.
She swallows, frozen on the spot. She wants to step away from his line of vision, to disappear into the background and escape his attention but then his eyes fall on her like he could just tell she was there and he smirks. He holds one hand up to wave and she can’t help but smile and wave back.
“Benny.” She says as she makes her way down the stairs.
“Beth.” He says, using the same tone.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.”
She slides up to stand beside him, both watching the row of games before them. He clicks his tongue. “How would you, when you don’t call."
She raises both eyebrows, surprised this conversation is happening right now, in public where everyone seems to be trying not to stare at them. ‘Beth Harmon and Benny watts they used to be co champions and-’
“You told me not to.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He agrees, looking around at the games happening before them.
“So why are you here?”
“I was invited.”
“To play?”
“Sure.”
She frowns, thinking back to the programme she read this morning. “Your name isn’t on the list.”
“Neither is yours.” He remarks.
She nods, resisting the urge to smile. “Touché.”
He hesitates only for a moment before he speaks. “Wanna play?”
“What, so I can destroy you?” She smiles.
He can’t help but smile back. “You took a long break, I think your level might have dropped off a bit.”
“How dare you.” She cries with no heat to it. “I’ll have you know that I’m world champion.”
“Are you now? I hadn’t heard.”
“I beat four soviet chess players.”
He tries not to laugh. “That’s a lot of soviet chess players.”
Her eyes fall on him again and she suddenly remembers the five weeks she spent living in his shitty little apartment, sharing his bed and his furniture and his crockery, sharing food and thoughts and jokes and learning how to be a better player. She remembers the Benny she got to know in those five weeks, the Benny she missed .
“You look good.” She comments.
He smirks. “What, you like my hair?” And he says it like a joke, like this is something they do but she can feel the question radiating from him in waves. She knows this is him, dropping his toe in the water without actually, properly committing to anything. She’s okay with that. She can do that.
She cocks her head, her palms already beginning to sweat and the tips of her ears turning pink.
“I always like your hair.”
They stay tangled in bed sheets and sweat and the morning sunlight that flows through the open curtain of Beth's hotel room- ‘yours is nicer than mine’ he comments. Her cheek is pressed against his back and she moves with the rise and fall of his breathing.
“You gonna talk about chess again?” She asks, her voice soft and airy.
His body shakes with laughter that she feels against her skin. “I seem to remember you not liking that.” She presses a kiss between his shoulder blades and then sits up. She begins to pull the covers off to take a shower, or make coffee or get dressed or whatever but he’s not having it. “Nope.” He says quickly, turning around and reaching for her arm to pull her against his chest. She lands with a thump and a laugh. “Don’t ruin it just yet.”
“You missed me.” She notes, fighting a self satisfied grin.
“I told you that a while ago.”
“You did.”
And they lie there as the sun rises and the day begins, just curled in each other’s arms, their breaths calming and mingling into one. She wishes they could stay like this forever, just hit pause on the world and live out this fantasy where nobody can find them and nobody can see them.
“I wasn’t going to come.” He says eventually, piercing through the calm. “But then I heard you were here.”
She swallows and he feels the movement through his bones. “You could have called.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“You always know what to say.”
“Not with you.” And his voice is barely a murmur but she hears it and it lines itself on the inside of her eyelids. Not with you. Not with you. Not with you. He almost asks her to come to New York, the words so nearly pass his lips but he stops himself because he doesn’t think he can bear being rejected by Beth Harmon again, not when he gets to see her like this anyway. He can settle for the only part of her she can share, he doesn’t need more because he’s scared he’ll lose it all if he asks.
She doesn’t know what to say now so she chooses to change the direction of the conversation. “When are you going back to New York?”
He sighs, she knows it’s about the change of direction. “Today.”
“You’re not staying for the final day?”
“I couldn’t care less about the Indianapolis exhibition. ”
Neither of them makes a move to leave first, neither of them wants to break the peace, neither of them is ready for that. So she stays there and so does he, clinging to what they have in this moment, not willing to give it up. Her fingers trace shapes against his stomach and his thumb brushes back and forth against her shoulder.
There’s something about Benny that makes her feel at ease, something that makes her toes curl and her stomach clench and her heart slam against her ribcage. He’s smart, that’s for sure, the only person who she's known to keep up with her. She doesn't feel like a freak, she doesn’t feel like the odd one out or like she’s out of place. With him she makes sense.
There’s a knock at the door. “Miss Harmon?” A voice floats.
She feels him freeze beneath her fingers. “What is it?” She calls, her voice echoing into the former silence.
“Uh, Mr Rogers has asked to remind you of your talk. It takes place in an hour.”
“Okay.” She says loudly again. “Thank you.”
Footsteps that she didn’t hear in the first place retreat and now she’s painfully aware of Benny’s thoughts wiring out of control. She doesn’t say anything as she presses a kiss against the exposed skin of his stomach and peels away from him. She feels his fingers flinch to pull her back but he fights them. She stands from her bed and yawns, stretching her arms above her head as she picks up her hotel dressing down.
She sits at her dressing table to prepare herself and watches in the mirror as he drags himself to his feet. She watches him dress himself, painfully slow and messy, fumbling at buttons and zips and blowing the hair from his face. She realises she’s staring when he catches her eye in the mirror, but she doesn’t look away and neither does he.
They stare as she shrugs his jacket on and collects his hat from where she threw it last night. “Bye Beth.” He says simply but his eyes say it all and there are so many things he means in bye Beth; I hope I see you again.
She agrees. “Bye Benny.”
VIENNA
They run into each other again three weeks later at the Vienna Tournament in Europe. They catch each other’s eyes through the huddle of fans that crowd Beth everytime she walks through the hotel. She leaves a spare key for him at reception and he comes up once he finishes his matches for the day. ( Your room is always nicer than mine, he comments. She smirks, Become world champion and then maybe they’ll give you a better one. )
She hears the door open and then a pause before Benny speaks. “Beth?”
“Taking a bath.”
She doesn’t know what she expects but it’s certainly wasn’t that he would walk into the bathroom. He’s already taken his hat and jacket off and he’s wearing a black T-shirt with the already short sleeves rolled up shorter and jeans also rolled up at the cuff. He keeps his distance, his body leaning against the doorframe as he cocks his head and smiles
“You look like a drowned rat.” he comments.
She’s submerged by the water with only her head poking up from under the foam. “You look like a pirate.”
“It’s a tough look to upkeep.” he remarks, stroking his chin. “But I try my best.”
Their eyes never leave each other, couldn’t bear it honestly. Her body is electrified with the concept of his presence and the thought of what will happen next and she can tell he feels it too.
“I’m nearly finished.”
“Okay.” he says absentmindedly, finally choosing to close the space between them.
He walks a painfully long five steps towards her and the water moves and swirls as she subconsciously sits up higher. He pushes the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ears as he searches her eyes for permission that she’s embarrassingly too eager to give. He holds her face in his hands, gentle and soft like she could break between his fingers and kisses her slowly, like they’ve got all the time in the world and she feels it the tips of her toes. He pulls away before she’s ready and saunters out of the bathroom, practically leaving her in the dust of her own lust because she wants him.
“You’re an asshole.” She calls after him and he just laughs, his chuckle echoing around the room and in her body.
Indianapolis was feral, it was like two worlds colliding into an enclosed space that contained the explosion and fed it back into their veins. Vienna is soft, and slow and careful with fingers tha caress exposed skin and corners of lips. They’re exploring new territory, the way skin feels against each other, the way her lips feel against his chest or his against her thighs, the way her fingers wrap around the strands of his hair or his teeth bite at her neck.
The sun is still out but it’s late afternoon and there’s a breeze as they sit out of her balcony, sharing a cigarette with their arms touching. They’re both alarmingly aware of the contact but neither can decide whether it’s enough or too much. He refused to put a shirt back on but settled on a pair of trousers while she wraps a nightgown around her with an aggressive tie of the belt around her waist.
“What did you do for six months?” He asks as they both watch the city of Vienna continue with its day, like they’re gods standing above them, judging their decision to be so mundane and pedestrian.
“I perfected my Russian.” She says, blowing out a puff of smoke. “I started to learn French and I played ultra uncompetitive chess with people who didn’t want anything from me.”
“Everybody wants a piece of Beth Harmon.” He comments absentmindedly.
“She’s a hot commodity.” She remarks about herself. “You know I came home to a dozen letters from the USCF begging me to attend a bunch of their events?”
He scoffs. “Don’t they hate you?”
“Exactly.”
“So, what? You’re famous now and everyone loves you?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “They just want a piece of me, like hyenas biting into a carcass.”
“You’re far from dead.”
“I feel it sometimes.” She says softly. “How fragile my existence is, how all of this could disappear in an instant.” she hands him the cigarette, well aware of his eyes on her.
“It’s not good to think like that.” he says carefully, trapping the cigarette between his lips to inhale.
“Says the pessimist.”
“I’m a realist.”
“Only pessimists say that.”
“This won’t disappear.” he mumbles. “You’ve worked too hard and fought too much for all of this to just vanish.”
“So you’re an optimist now?”
He chuckles. “No. I just believe in Beth Harmon.”
She finally looks at him, her mouth partially open to steady her breathing. “That's a bad move. If this were a chess board you just gave up your queen.”
“I know you think you’re smarter than everyone.” He starts, smirking. “But in this rare instance, you’re wrong.”
“I maintain that that is foolish.”
He just presses his lips against her shoulder, the contact sending shivers down her spine. “Do you believe in me?”
“Yes.” She breathes. “Yes, of course.”
“Then we’ll be fools together.”
Her heart soars in her chest and squeezes around her throat until she can’t bear it anymore. She lifts his chin and wraps both arms around his neck until they’re kissing again and her skin is on fire. Her mind is exploding into tiny little fireworks that cloud her thoughts, she’s never been so out of control as when she’s kissing him. She thinks she could do this until she dies, until the world crumbles around them, until they're all that is left.