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Nobody has ever beaten Malcolm at chess.
It's something he's quite proud of, maybe even a little too much.
But how could anybody blame him ? He won against all his challengers, the white king always falling to his flawless strategy.
So when Connor Stoll comes knocking at his cabin's door asking to play, he accepts quickly, confident in his ability in winning.
"Aren't you bored of playing chess the traditional way ?" Connor asks, lazily resting on one of the beds while Malcolm searches for the chessboard.
"There's only one way to play chess, Connor."
Malcolm frowns, still looking for the chessboard. He always put it in the same place, did he store it somewhere else after his victory against Miranda ?
"Only if you lack creativity," sings Connor from the bed.
"Fine," Malcolm sighs, abandoning his search, "what do you propose ?"
Connor smiles and gets closer to him, his blue eyes glinting.
“I suggest we play in our minds. No real chessboard, all will be happening up there,” he gives Malcolm a light tap on the forehead, “do you accept ?”
Malcolm hesitates. Connor’s idea definitely seems more challenging and fun than virtual chess but…
“What’s with that troubled pretty face of yours ?”
Connor gets even closer than he already was and with an infuriating smile taunts him :
“Scared you’ll lose ?”
For one second, Malcolm cannot get past the pretty face of yours.
Does he really mean it ?
Or is it just an expression the friendly son of Hermes uses ?
Then, he registers the taunt.
"Don't be ridiculous, Stoll." He scoffs, consciously ignoring the blush spreading on his cheeks. "I'll win either way."
"If you say so" The other boy snickers before taking a few steps back, allowing himself and Malcolm to concentrate.
He closes his eyes and visualize perfectly the chessboard and its pieces.
“Closing your eyes is not allowed though.”
Malcolm jumps at the voice’s closeness and when he opens his eyes, Connor is standing impossibly close to him, those blue eyes still sparkling and now looking right at him.
“We have to play the whole game looking in each other’s eyes. Otherwise you lose.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to those terms.”
“You agreed to play.”
With no mercy for Malcolm's heart, Connor gets even closer to him, to the point where he can the freckles dotting the other boy's face.
"You can still back out if you want."
Ah, it's nothing more than a calculated strategy then. A plot to make him flustered in order to win. Ignoring the pang of disappointment in his heart, Malcolm steels himself and looks right back at the son of Hermes.
"I'm not, now quit your little games and let's begin."
Connor cackles, allowing Malcolm to push him away.
"You take white and I'll play the black pieces, timer ?"
"Nah" Connor says with a smile, "I don't want to rush our time together."
The son of Hermes is sprawled on a chair, the definition of a cat bathing in the sun.
Except for those eyes, bright and sharp, pointed at Malcolm.
"Shall I ?"
Malcolm nods, trying his best to concentrate despite feeling so seen.
"Okay, let's see... Knight to C3".
Malcolm lost tracks of how much time they have been playing.
All that matters is that he's losing.
Terribly so.
He makes stupid moves, place his bishop in front a rook defenceless, doesn't picture Connor's queen taking his knight.
It's not his fault though, it is Connor's entirely.
It's his fault he's sweating, that his throat is dry no matter how much he drinks.
It's his fault for getting so close, his hands brushing Malcolm's and then putting distance between them, for making him suffer a brain malfunction when he licks his lip while concentrating, for
But mostly, it is the constant eye contact, the vibrant blue of Connor's eyes, the burning intensity that drives him mad, making him lose all focus.
It's a miracle he never adverted his eyes, he's sure he is blushing mess, a sight Connor seems to find particularly amusing.
Of course he would, his damned strategy is working with grandiose efficiency.
"Earth to Malcolm, do you copy ?"
"What ?" He says started, Connor way too close for him to function properly.
"I said checkmate, and I don't think you have any way out."
He's smiling, a horrible smug smirk that suits his face very well.
He tries to picture the board but all he sees are Connor's eyes looking at him with the glint of victory.
"Fine" he sighs, "You win."
Immediately, he looks everywhere else but Connor, the other boy clapping and praising his own victory.
"Well, there goes my winning streak." He plops down on his bed, eyes facing the ceiling.
Only to almost have a heart attack when Connor's face appears in his vision.
His breath hitches, his heart's rate going crazy when he realises Connor is right next to him, laying on his bed and looking at him like he wasn't actively trying to kill him.
"If it is so important to you, we can say you won," he shrugs, "My goal wasn't to beat you anyways."
He turns his head so fast he almost snap it.
"Then why did you act like that ?" He asks bewildered.
"Like what ?" Connor looks at him innocently, his face the definition of an angel. But his eyes are definitely the house of a demon, they way they shine mischievously.
"Like-", he feels his face reddens. Had he misinterpreted ? Maybe Connor was just acting normal and he read too much into it. Oh Fates, kill him now please.
"Did it bother you ? The way I acted ?"
For the first time since he entered the cabin, Connor's voice is unsure, his hands fidgeting and his voice coated with nervousness.
Malcolm's brain is going to fry and he is going to die.
Or maybe his heart will give up before his brain.
Either Connor is still playing, a frankly cruel game is that the case, or he is trying to make Malcolm understand something.
He dearly hopes it's the latter option.
"No, hum, it didn't." He gulps, his hand reaching Connor's, "Actually, I kinda liked it."
When he brushes his fingers, he waits for the cry of surprise, the "woah, what are you doing ?" but none of that comes.
Instead, Connor intertwines their fingers together.
He then props himself up with his other hand, his face hovering on Malcolm's.
He must be the colour of a tomato and Connor can probably hear his heart pounding.
"Can I kiss you ?" Connor whispers, those blue eyes looking straight into his grey ones.
"Yes." He answers breathless.
He has kissed people before.
A girl named Laura when he was twelve and it has been tasteless, only the feeling of his lips touching hers and nothing more.
The one with Rafael before the battle of Manhattan had been filled with some kind of frenzy, the one you get when you think you won't live to see another day.
But this, this is intoxicating.
When Connor kisses him, Malcolm instinctively grabs his neck, pulling him closer.
He doesn't want this to stop, he wants to kiss Connor until he can't breathe, until his lips are swollen and red, until-
"Wait, wait, I need to breathe."
Connor gently pulls himself off Malcolm, contently resting against him.
"By Athena, that was amazing."
"Please don't mention you mom just after we kissed."
"Right, you're right. But still, amazing."
Connor laughs, a sound full of mirth that Malcolm wants to hear until the day he dies and hopefully after too.
"Can I presume we will be doing that again ?" He asks, twirling a strand Malcolm's hair with his finger.
"You presume right."
They stay silent for a minute, basking in each other's presence and proximity.
"Does that mean you're not telling anyone that I lost ?"
"Sorry, can't do that."
"Why ?"
"Because I won darling."
The blush comes back with full force when Connor calls him darling, making the other boy cackles.
"Everybody know what was my goal when I entered this cabin. Right now, I think they are waiting for us outside to throw us in the lake."
He gets up, beckoning Malcolm to do the same.
"Shall we, boyfriend ?"
Connor's lightens up when he calls him boyfriend, happiness literally glowing around him.
He is the most beautiful boy Malcolm has ever seen.
"Yes, we shall."
Indeed, the second they step out they are swarmed by the other campers.
"To the lake !" Cecil screams.
"That's my line."
"Not when you're the one whose about to take a bath, brother."
All the way to the lake, Malcolm holds Connor's hand and when they get thrown, he doesn't let it go.
"Wanna ditch them and take a trip to New York ?" His boyfriend whispers in his ear, "I know the way."
"You're going to be a very bad influence on me."
"That's not a no."
"Chiron is going to be furious."
"We're not the first lovesick demigods to pull this kind of trick."
"We are both counsellors."
Connor kisses teasingly his neck and Malcolm's entire body short-circuits.
"They'll be fine. Besides," He gives him another kiss, on the jaw this time "I know a great restaurant that I'm sure you'll like."
"Okay," his voice comes out strangled and way more high pitched than usual, "lead the way."
"Excellent choice !" Connor says, excited, "we are going to have so much fun !"
When they come back, Chiron is indeed irritated, scolding them about how dangerous and reckless they had been.
Malcolm doesn't miss the fond look in his mentor's eyes when he shoos them away, letting them go without any kind of punishment.