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Tick tock. Tick tock.
Fabi’s eyes are glued onto Ding’s sad figure as he gazes forlornly at his position on the chessboard, the ticking of his clock the only sound that cuts through the overwhelming silence of the playing hall. In the back of his mind, he thinks that he surely must resemble Abdusattorov with his famous death stare, almost willing the handshake to materialise by pure mental force. The shine of the overhead lights above, almost burning his neck like little suns, however, and the dawning imagination of thousands of excited fans watching on as the World Chess Championship seems to have reached its dramatic finale, shakes him out of his daydream, reminding him that he shouldn’t be complacent about the result, regardless of how definite it seems. His hands slide sideways on the table so Fabi can rest his head, eyes furrowed with renewed concentration. His side of the table feels light and relaxed, in complete contrast to the dark clouds hovering over black’s king, and Ding’s head. The dull, but rapid thud of his heartbeat, almost bursting out of his chest, is the only giveaway of the nerves coiling up within his seemingly calm frame. He’s so close…
…
The soft orange of the sunset out his bedroom window coats Fabi in a warm glow, as he absentmindedly flicks through his opening files on his laptop, the lines slipping too fast, one after the other and almost blur into a single convoluted idea, before a hand gently stops his own from scrolling any faster than he already is. The breath in his throat hitches, nervousness threatening to ooze into his core like mud, only easing when the owner of the hand presses a kiss into his fluffy hair.
Leaning back in his office chair, he smiles brightly when Magnus’ face appears in view, eyebrows furrowed questioningly but accompanied with a smile to match the one Fabi also imagines painted across his face. Seeing him so blissfully happy makes Fabi feel like he’s in heaven sometimes.
“You’re worrying too much about this solskinn…” Fabi yelps as his boyfriend’s arm sneakily wrapping around his chest pulls him out of the chair, the pair falling onto the bed with a soft thwump. He can practically hear Magnus’ heartbeat from where Fabi lies on his chest, the quiet rhythmic beating draining his head of the growing anxiety threatening to take over with every day that the World Championships draws closer.
“I just- I just want to win this Norway…” he mumbles into Magnus’ chest, glasses almost poking his eyes out before Magnus lifts his head up so they can look at each other properly. The sincerity of the belief in his boy’s eyes causes Fabi’s heart to swell with love for the man he once thought hated him with a passion for many years, when really he believed in Fabi more than Fabi himself.
“You underestimate yourself baby.” As he kisses Fabi’s cheek, Magnus’ smile grows with the dusting of rosy pink appearing across his face with the little butterfly touch. “Ding is good and all, but he’ll be no match for the machine that you are. The lines you were working on…” he vaguely gestures in the direction of Fabi’s lone laptop, “…would be enough to wreak havoc on everyone in the top 10 of the world combined, let alone just one of them.”
“You… really think so?” As much as he wants to believe the words he’s hearing, he can’t stop the hesitation in his voice. He was never one to hype himself up, like Magnus, like Hikaru or even Anish sometimes, he always needed the reassurance to boost his own self-confidence.
Magnus’ smile falls a little, the sight similar to a splinter of ice piercing Fabi’s heart, before he’s flipped over quickly with his back on the bed. The eyes roaming over his body are dark and gleaming, Fabi’s throat swelling with a gulp as Magnus softly, gently presses his mouth to his, swallowing the little noise that escapes his lips. As he swiftly draws away, Fabi tries to chase his touch, but his mind is foggy with the heat radiating from Magnus’ body on top of his own, his movement is sluggish, and so easy for Magnus to counter and pin him back down.
A hand moves from the tight hold on his hip, slowly tracing over his trembling torso until it idly tugs at the buttons on Fabi’s shirt. Magnus’ intentions are clear as day, but Fabi is struggling to breathe as one button slides open… and another… and other…
He can’t stop the tiny gasp slipping out of his mouth as a slow deliberate kiss is pressed to every patch of porcelain skin revealed to the man above him as his shirt is opened, fires blooming like flowers wherever Magnus’ lips touch. The eyes above him flash black with the sound, and Fabi fucking whimpers at the hungry smile decorating his lips. Thoughts of preparation and stress about the World Championship have been long forgotten, flung out the window and into the unknown, but Fabi can’t bring himself to care right now, those ideas replaced by a burning desperation to keep Magnus here, and for him to keep going with whatever he’s planned to make Fabi forget about the match, forget about doubting himself.
“Do me a favour baby,” Magnus’ voice drops to a gravelly deep tone as his free hand slides down Fabi’s side, a child-like ticklish feeling accompanying the movement, before, playing with the waistband of his jeans, “and concentrate on me.”
“I’ll show you how good you are.”
…
Fabi’s cheeks warm in the already heated playing hall with the memory of that night, and he tugs gently at his shirt collar to try and cool down a little. It was stated on social media that his seconds for the match didn’t include Magnus (the uproar that would’ve ensued has Fabi smiling, disguised as a cough as he covers his mouth with a grin) but his boy has probably done the same amount to help him as Cristian and Leinier did, if not more. He was always on hand to drag him away from working if he was spending too long without a break, distracting him if necessary like he did that night, and occasionally offering ideas that would surprise Ding. In fact the line Fabi played just a couple of hours ago in what appears to be the final match of the championship was Magnus’ signature open Spanish, a line that caused Ding to stare at the board in disbelief, minutely shaking his head.
11 hard-fought draws, but finally a decisive result in the 12th game.
His eyes slide back down to the chessboard, examining the position, but really it’s hopeless for black. Fabi had initially sacked a knight to remove the protection around black’s king that was holding the position together, and now that it’s staring at white’s pieces swarming towards it… there’s nothing really to be done. The blood roars through Fabi’s ears, but he forces himself to breathe slowly, to try and relax, to ignore the implications of what’ll surely happen in the next couple of moves. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a little defeated sigh slip from Ding’s mouth, as his hand moves to stop the clock, and reaches out, waving the white flag.
Fabi glances at his face as he shakes Ding’s hand, trying to make out what he must be feeling right now but he’s quick to slide out of his chair and disappear, the rustling of his jacket the only sound Ding makes as he leaves Fabi alone, by himself to put the kings on white squares.
The realisation that he is now the world champion, the goal he’s striven for in earnest since he was a little kid growing up watching Garry and Vishy achieve what most GMs can only dream of, crashes through him. Tears prickle hotly at his eyes, and Fabi’s hands are quick to rub at his face, to hide the evidence of the complete and utter happiness coursing through his veins right now.
If he could, he would scream with every emotion he’s feeling right now, but the quiet hand of the arbiter on the back reminds him he has to retain some professionalism. She explains Fabi can leave to have initial congratulations with his team, but he will be needed for the champion’s press conference in 15 minutes.
The moment she finishes speaking, Fabi practically jumps out of his chair and bolts out of the room, an apology for his rudeness caught in his throat. He’s threatening to burst with emotion when he spies his team waiting outside the playing hall, Cristian grinning like a madman as he pulls him into a tight hug, before pushing him behind abruptly and Fabi-
Fabi’s world comes to a shuddering halt. The man in conversation with David is not supposed to be here, he’s surely a figment of Fabi’s tired imagination. Disappointing words of sponsor commitments in Norway but accompanied with a whispered promise that he would watch every second of all the matches yet…
David notices him staring in shock, a knowing smile gracing his face as he murmurs something to Magnus. Quickly spinning around with a quiet swish, the pride in his eyes is clear like crystal. The eyes of the others in the room looking at them both with curiosity fades into nothingness. Magnus runs a hand through his messy hair, a bashful smile etched on his lips, but before he can say a word Fabi runs (yes runs) and throws himself at his boy in a bone-crushing hug. Swift to react, strong arms wrap around Fabi’s torso with a light kiss pressed onto his neck. He’s buried in Magnus’ chest, but his warmth, the feeling of home Magnus brings whenever they’re together finally breaks the dam holding his tears back. He’s missed him so much these last two weeks, even if Magnus insisted stubbornly on calling him every night despite the seven hour time difference, but seeing him in person again… is too much to handle for Fabi right now.
“I thought- I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to come…” He sobs, slightly apologetic for soaking Magnus’ shirt with the salty wetness from his eyes but Magnus shushes him gently, tugging Fabi closer to him to try hide his tears from their surprised onlookers.
“I did say that baby,” Magnus whispers into his ear, his breath prickling at Fabi’s skin, “because I wanted to be here to surprise you when you won your match and…” Magnus’ voice hitches, pressing another kiss to Fabi’s neck to almost try and reassure himself of his words.
“Words cannot describe how proud I am of you solskinn, my champion, the greatest thing to ever happen to me in this lifetime. You proved everyone who doubted you and your ability wrong, you’re one of our legends now…”
“…and forever by my side.” Magnus voice is barely more than a whisper, but Fabi can’t miss those words. His body is shaking furiously, and before Magnus can ask if he’s okay Fabi decides to do something that may be the quick end of his career, but he can’t bring himself to care.
He pushes Magnus away, who looks slightly affronted with the sudden movement, but Fabi’s hand cups his face gently and a sparkle dances across his Norway’s eyes as Fabiano Caruana kisses Magnus Carlsen in a hotel room with the world’s eyes on them both.
A stunned silence initially sweeps through the room, as that would be the last thing anyone would’ve expected to happen, but the claps and cheers of their audience as the shock wears off, Fabi giggling as Magnus spins him around, make him feel he made the right decision. They were hiding for so long, their relationship cloaked in rivalry and dislike, but only because they were wary of the reaction of everyone, especially with the reminder of 2018 and the bitter fierceness of their rivalry almost tearing them apart, but he refuses to hide anymore. Fabi wants to show the world how much he loves the man holding him. Haters can hate, but he doesn’t care as long as he has Magnus by his side.
Magnus laughs as he pulls away to look at Fabi’s face, his own reddened with embarrassment but his smile… He can’t remember the last time he saw Magnus smile like that, like he’s won the most important precious thing in life.
“Y’know solskinn…” Magnus’ face has dropped to a more serious expression, causing Fabi to cock his head in confusion as he turns back to look at David, who nods encouragingly. He takes a deep breath.
“I always felt alone throughout my chess career, winning so much and being so successful that I ostracized myself from everyone who’s graced our world during our time.” Magnus pauses as a deathly silence fills the room, everyone silent. “I felt so cold, and thought maybe this is how my life will be, and that I should get used to it… but-”
He glances at Fabi, who’s rooted to the spot, unable to do anything except look back, his gaze unreadable. His chest tightens with sadness for the younger Magnus, so talented yet so lonely, without a friend or even a close one by his side. “I met you… properly met you at the Sinqefield Cup in 2014 after our first match and- and- you were so excited explaining your opening idea to me that I couldn’t help but laugh.” Magnus smiles softly. “It was the first time I didn’t feel coldness in my chest, the first time I actually remember feeling happy… I didn’t want to lose that feeling ever.”
“I don’t exactly know how the events of Tata Steel in 2016 occurred…” Magnus’ lips twitch upwards into the tiniest of smirks as Fabi flushes furiously with the memory of alcohol-induced love confessions and waking up in Magnus’ bed the next day completely naked, “…okay we can blame alcohol,” he concedes and a quiet laugh flutters through the room, “but it was the first time you said you loved me and… it made me realise that I could be loved for the person I am, and not the chess player.”
He takes a step closer to Fabi, who’s heart feels like it’s about to pound out of his chest before he continues. “Fabi… solskinn, you were the ray of sunshine to light up my world when it was dark. The kindest person with a heart of an angel, someone I really don’t deserve to call mine…” Magnus wipes the tears from his eyes. “…We’ve never had it easy at times, but you always waited, were always there for me… and…” Magnus produces a small box from his pants pocket, and oh god oh fuck Fabi knows exactly what that box is, and what it holds inside. His hands cover his mouth in disbelief as everyone around them gasp, but Fabi barely hears the sound.
“…and, I want to be by your side forever, spend the rest of my life with you forever.” Magnus whispers as he gets down on one knee. Fabi inches closer, desperately hoping this isn’t a dream and he’s not going to wake up alone and disappointed as the box lifts open to reveal a sparkling ring, glittering like a star.
The tears stream down Fabi’s face as Magnus glances up at him one last time, his eyes also glimmering with wetness.
“Fabiano Caruana… will you make me the happiest man alive… and marry me?”
Fabi can feel everyone’s eyes on him, waiting for his answer. His head is dazed, overwhelmed by everything that has happened in the last 5 minutes (or maybe it was longer, Fabi doesn’t even know at this point) but he does know one thing. When he played Magnus for the first time in 2010, and got crushed in their brutal endgame, he threw everything at himself to improve and get better at chess. Not just for his own self-confidence, but to reach the young Norwegian’s already insane level. To be able to call himself Magnus’ equal. Maybe there was some obsession on his part, but it’s what drove him to be the player he is today. And now that he can call him more than his equal, his Norway, his darling…
He could never refuse anything Magnus wanted, as long as he was with him.
Fabi allows his head to move, nodding slowly as the room erupts.
“I was already the happiest man when you said you loved me… so yes, YES!” He cries as the noise grows to dramatic levels. Magnus is frozen in shock, probably resigning himself to Fabi saying no, but the grin that appears on his face…
He pulls him down on top of him, their bodies collapsing on the ground with a loud clatter. but Fabi giggles as Magnus kisses him once, twice, so many times that his lips tingle. Pure euphoria courses through his blood like the sweetest of drugs.
“I love you solskinn…”
“I love you too Norway…”