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How many hours has it been?
The sky has long since faded, shades of ocean blue and dusky navy painted over by a dull grey which has by now turned into an inky blackness. Fabi turns his eyes away for a moment, smarting from staring at the vivid glow of the laptop resting on his chest, allowing himself to admire the artificial stars that flicker outside his window. They only seem to shine brighter after he rubs his face, illuminating the city below him with a kaleidoscopic vibrancy matching the swell of nightlife. He would give anything to be among the bustling crowd he can almost picture in his mind, in fact his body is desperately wishing for anything that’s more exciting than being hunched over and studying chess lines that blur into each other because of fatigue, twisting and turning until what is being read becomes something indecipherable. The bed creaks quietly as he shuffles around, looking for a comfort that’s been lost some time ago.
He can’t settle himself with small movements however, a realisation that causes him to exhale sharply; a sigh slipping from his lips as he rubs his eyes again that is laced with tiredness, but intertwined with frustration as the laptop is pulled closer to Fabi’s face to try and distract himself from aching limbs, ignoring how the glow of the screen almost blinds him instead with its white light. His curls are messier than usual, having been run through with anxious hands so much more than normal, but he’s barely aware of how unkempt his appearance is, how tiredness seems to ooze from his entire being – the stubbornness coursing through his veins is as much a fuel as any drug could be.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go sleep?”
The little Cristian in their video call is looking at him a bit too closely for Fabi’s liking. His skin prickles uncomfortably with the feeling of being examined like a lab specimen, more so when Cristian’s eyes narrow. “Downsides of having a friend who knows practically everything about you…” Fabi thinks to himself with a dry laugh. While the concern is appreciated gratefully; it takes some of the weight off his weary shoulders knowing that he has someone like Cristian looking out for him, the perfectionist within his core admonishes the idea of rest. Especially after what happened during the play-in of the first Champions Chess Tour event just an hour ago or so.
“I’ll go to bed soon.”
The promise is empty, and they both know it. He can almost taste the shame, bitter in his mouth as his gaze flickers away from the disapproving stare on the left of his screen and back at the games that the account under his name played today. Horrible games that should have him stripped of his grandmaster title. One hand moves behind his head to keep himself from falling flat onto fluffy pillows, that beckon him to slumber with their comfort. The other flips through moves, but it’s too fast, almost creating a hypnotic flipbook effect, for tired eyes to keep track.
“Fabi…” Cristian’s voice is soft, gentle even, as if he was dealing with a small child, “The games will be still there tomorrow, they won’t go away if you sleep.” He knows Cristian is only being reasonable and he really should listen, but a obstinate tiny part inside Fabi wants to argue, to explain why he won’t want to look at these games tomorrow because of stupid food poisoning that was conveniently never brought up because he didn’t want Cristian to worry any more than he is right now and all he wants to do is –
“Do I need to get Magnus to take you to bed?”
His head snaps up, almost fast enough to break his neck, at the mention of that name. Cristian snorts at the response, but his growing smile is nothing short of smug. “I knew that would get your attention.”
Words fail him, caught in his throat and swollen with an unnamed emotion, causing his breath to hitch with ever shuddery inhale. All he can feel is simply the heat rushing into his cheeks, colouring them a bright cherry red as he tries to pull out a response not unlike pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
“He’s asleep…” Fabi manages to croak after an embarrassing couple of seconds, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds from unuse. The illness he picked up from that chicken that tasted that little bit too raw to be safe, yet he still ate it anyways because he was the biggest idiot is sipping away at the remnants of the energy he has left like it’s the finest nectar. “And… I don’t want to wake him up.” This much is true, but what remains unsaid is that Magnus thinks, or at least knows that Fabi isn’t joining him in their bed for the moment because of a new podcast episode that won’t record itself. His heart clenches after hearing his own words, a fleeting thought of his boy curled up in bed alone, maybe a hand reaching out to pull someone closer to him that isn’t there. Only a small thing, but a promise was a promise:
“Fabi…” The softest pair of doe eyes peer expectantly from their bed, pulling at his heartstrings, enticing him to fall into outstretched arms. Neither of them slept well on their flight to Germany; Magnus being the hyperactive kid he can be, wouldn’t leave Fabi close his eyes for the slightest moment, and who was Fabi if he resisted his boyfriend’s unrelentless attention?
When Fabi looks back on it, sitting just beside Magnus’ curled form so he could ruffle his already messy hair, maybe forgoing the nine hour sleep they could have had was not their greatest idea. When Magnus leans into the palm of his hand however, snuffling happily with the touch… Fabi forgets that he needs to sleep. His world narrows to the finest of points, fixating on how Magnus’ lips tug upwards into a bashful beam, almost as bright as the sun. “Such a pretty smile…” Fabi thinks to himself, almost lost to the distraction.
“…sleep?” Tired fingers, unsteady in their movement, try to reach out towards his chest. A fleeting image of his hoodie, his favourite cream one he might add, getting pulled at so he can’t escape Magnus’ clutches and wishes for rest flickers through his mind. While the heat radiating off his boyfriend’s body is intoxicating, tempting Fabi yet again to give up his evening plans to record a podcast episode (at this point he’s definitely already late for the Zoom call that Cristian arranged with him), but he’s a man of well-defined principles. At least, he tries to be.
“I can’t yet baby,” Fabi whispers ever so gently, attempting to soften the hurt that flares in Magnus’ eyes for the briefest of moments. “I promised Cristian I would record with him after the… play-in.” Tugging at a curl that sticks up obstinately from the others, he ignores the way even mentioning the CCT event curdles unpleasantly in his stomach, only adding to the ache of the food poisoning.
The whine that slips out of his lips can only be described as pathetic, a last call to stay, but as Magnus gazes up only to be met with sad apologetic eyes Fabi sees the moment Magnus knows he isn’t going to win. They’re not at the chessboard, he can’t outmanoeuvre Fabi this time.
The bed creaks as Magnus reluctantly pulls away, allowing Fabi to stand up.
“Don’t be too long… please?” His voice hitches with the tiny plea, and Fabi moves a step away from his curled form lest his already crumbling self-control dissipates into dust.
“I promise I’ll be as quick as I can angel.”
“As quick as I can…” Fabi’s brow furrows deeply, as if he’s just realised simply how much more time he’s spent alone with this cloud hanging over him.
“Fabi… Fabi?” He slowly looks back up at his laptop, where a frown mirroring his own appears in greeting. The guilt pulls at his heart uncomfortably – prioritising a review of games he played while sick over his own boyfriend? A selfishness to be ashamed of… six little words that repeat over and over in his head like a broken cassette tape. He doesn’t notice Cristian pulling out his phone, muttering something about idiots and should be looking after yourselves, doesn’t notice him pressing it to his ear as his phone rings. He’s stuck in some kind of subspace, blankly unaware of anything except guilt and hurt and thoughts about a sleepy-eyed puppy until-
“Fabi…?”
His throat swells with a gulp, almost flinching with the sound of that voice but nope his eyes don’t deceive him, that is most definitely a very sleepy Magnus Carlsen leaning against the doorway to prop himself up. Silence seeps through the room for what must only be a couple of seconds but feels like an eternity as he can only stare at Magnus’ questioning eyes.
“I assumed he didn’t know you planned to study your games from today and only thought you were recording with me.” Cristian calls cheerfully from his laptop, his tone however jarring with the frown still etched on his face. “So even if he was asleep, I thought maybe oh, he should know that his boyfriend doesn’t believe in rest.”
Fabi isn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry, the decision flickering in his mind, but instead he slides the laptop off his chest, choosing to open his arms as Magnus shuffles closer. A tiny smile blooms into a fully grown beam as he lets himself fall into his embrace, the bed creaking in protest with the addition weight. He’s so warm and so- so feeling like home that Fabi forgets the awful games he lost today. He forgets the food poisoning plaguing his insides as Magnus’ lips press to his collarbone gently, his head pressed against Fabi’s chest. A renewed happiness unfurls itself from Fabi’s heart.
“What happened to being as quick as you can…?” The murmuring tickles Fabi’s skin like a feather, soothing the little pain fluttering through him with the question.
“I…” Fabi hesitates, pulling his boy closer to him as he tries to spin a believable reply. “I couldn’t not look at the games from earlier baby I’m sorry…” He feels the need to say more, to reassure Magnus that he didn’t forget his promise. However, if there’s one person who knows him better than Cristian does, it’s Magnus.
“But you didn’t- didn’t play that badly…?” Fabi’s spindling words are interrupted by a yawn, stifled quickly by Magnus as he lifts his head to meet his sad eyes. “You were sick… you can’t expect to play amazingly like you always do if you’re not feeling good you know?”
“You were WHAT?” The sudden noise of Cristian’s incredulous tone reminds Fabi of how he never brought up the food poisoning to his friend with a jolt. Rather than explaining and going off on a rambling tangent when he’s got such a warmth resting on him, he shrugs free a hand from Magnus’ grip and slams the laptop shut, cutting off any questions Cristian did have. It’s no matter, Fabi can explain tomorrow when he’s in a hopefully more amicable mood.
“You didn’t tell him?” The question is quiet as Magnus softly presses his lips to Fabi’s neck this time, the touch light as a butterfly’s wings but scorching with a molten heat. He exhales shakily as Magnus nips at the spot, just over his Adam’s apple.
“I didn’t want him to worry.” Fabi sighs, his hands slowly unwrapping themselves from his boyfriend’s large frame to slide up towards heated cheeks, cupping them tenderly as he finally, finally kisses Magnus in return. He feels Magnus smile as he presses even closer and…
“Oh.” He whimpers as Magnus pulls away for an unbearable moment, but it’s only brief as his warmth encompasses Fabi’s slender frame again, his face pressed into the crook of his neck. “He’ll worry if you don’t sleep too, right?”
“I know solskinn… I know…” The one word of Norwegian he knows, having listening to Magnus sweet talk him for the last four years (he still flushes with the memories), tumbles out unsteadily, but it’s worth him sounding like an idiot to feel his boy gasp into his neck, muttering something about needing to teach Fabi more Norwegian. One of his better ideas, in Fabi’s humble opinion.
“Are you happy to stay here?” Fabi whispers into unruly curls as he feels his eyes begin to flutter shut with the need to sleep. Maybe a rhetorical question, but he wants to be sure Magnus is comfortable where he is. God knows how grumpy he’ll be tomorrow with stiff limbs.
“Wanna stay here… smells like you, is nice.”
Fabi smiles even more brightly, brimming with nothing but pure adoration for this man… this boy who only lets himself be vulnerable around him, Fabiano Caruana.
“…would be nicer if you slept too though.”
His boy giggles as Fabi sighs exasperatedly, but it’s only feigned. The fact that Magnus worries about him this much…
“Very funny pup,” he murmurs, impossibly quiet as his fingers thread through Magnus’ hair, feeling his breathing slow to something relaxed, something at peace. Eventually, little snores break the silence of the room, as the hands on Fabi’s waist loosen their grip.
As the arms of sleep start to pull Fabi down towards the inky black void of nothingness too, he smiles softly.
But thank you my love.