Work Text:
“You realize how absurd this idea is, right?” Oliver asked as they slowly approached the classroom. This was all his own fault, of course. If only he hadn’t mentioned Connor’s lack of interest in his activities. Connor being Connor naturally became indignant at the accusation and vowed to show how interested he was. “You’re going to be very bored. And then you’ll break up with me because you’re going to realize how incredibly nerdy I am.”
Connor rolled his eyes as they stopped outside of the classroom door. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ollie. Liking chess and computers doesn’t make you nerdy. Now, get in there and show ‘em how it’s done.” Connor opened the door and gave Oliver a tiny shove inside before following him in.
Oliver, to an extent, wasn’t wrong. Connor disliked chess and found himself immensely bored concerning the game. But watching Oliver play was an entirely different story. Oliver had a stone cold poker face when playing that only broke when he made an exceptional move or when he was deep in concentration. Instead of watching the game, Connor studied his boyfriend’s face intently, which went unnoticed during the first few weeks.
Needless to say, when Connor pushed Oliver into an empty bathroom stall after the match, kissing him feverishly, running his hands along the length of his torso, he thought maybe Connor tagging along wasn’t such a terrible idea.
Connor went to the matches in subsequent weeks, unable to explain why that small crinkle of concentration in the middle of Oliver’s forehead or that indulgent smirk of victory, one of which could rival any of his own, drove him beyond crazy. Perhaps, he hadn’t considered this side of Oliver to be prevalent in something as dull as chess, but it was there and it was exciting.
After four weeks of victories and bathroom stall make-outs (the second week also including a sloppy hand job), Oliver felt unstoppable, if not, slightly cocky. But, that all came to a screeching halt during the fifth week. Playing the club’s weakest player had its advantages. It required less thinking and resulted in more time to focus on other things, namely Connor.
How he wished he hadn’t done that. The intensity of the look on Connor’s face made an undesired warmth fill his stomach. To anyone else, the look meant nothing, just someone incredibly engaged in the match. To Oliver, the look meant a rush of kisses and touches, both rough and somehow tender, flooding his mind and causing that warmth to spread lower. His utter undoing came when their eyes met and Connor winked at him. Releasing a soft, shaky breath, unnoticed by all others in the room, unnoticed by his opponent, Oliver closed his eyes and swallowed, willing the steadily growing problem to stop. After that wink, he couldn’t concentrate. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t silence his thoughts. The memories of Connor’s soft moans as he nibbled at his throat took hold and he was done for.
He lost the match within the next five moves, unable to even be ashamed of losing to their weakest member. Shaking his hand briefly, he grabbed his messenger bag, strategically positioning it in front of himself before hurrying from the classroom.
The following twenty minutes were all biting kisses and strangled moans. Oliver thanked the heavens for abandoned third floor bathrooms and Connor’s mouth when everything was said and done. Tugging his boyfriend upward, Oliver smashed his mouth to his, lazily kissing him in between breathy pants.
He whispered against his parted lips, loudly enough to hear himself over his racing heart, “You’re banned from Chess Club, Connor.”