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He stares at the bag once, eyes flickering back for a second reluctant time before he finally takes it carefully out of its hiding place tucked away in his wardrobe. It’s nothing special in itself, the size of a small dinner plate and fastened with a sky blue ribbon, but if someone had managed to find it and enquired about its contents, well, Nodirbek might consider finding the nearest rope, or bottle of sleeping pills depending on his fancy. In hindsight, that would probably be a severe overreaction to something most would see as trivial, but as he weighs the bag in his hand he cannot help the nervousness that settles over his head like a dark cloud.
It's really stupid of him to feel like this. Youngest Rapid Chess World Champion at the age of 17, followed soon by a team gold and individual silver medal at the Olympics. A death glare to rival even Kasparov, if he’s to believe what Yaku and Javokhir have told him constantly, yet all it takes is a mundane gift bag to make Nodirbek Abdusattorov rethink all the life decisions he’s made.
What am I doing?
He quickly steps outside of his hotel room before he can talk himself out of this… plan. An impulsive idea that he carried out without thinking, the reminder of which does bring a weak smile to his face as the warm Kolkata evening greets him with open arms. His rather so-so end to the rapid portion of Tata Steel India aside, the weather here does make up for it.
But all Nodirbek can concentrate on is the gift bag held tightly in his hand as he heads back to the playing hall, which feels heavier with every step he takes. He’d really rather do anything else but what he’s about to do, however, his mandatory press conference has made the decision for him. At the very least no one recognises him, even if there are some curious eyes poking uncomfortably into his back as he slips inside the hall.
He knows exactly where he’s going, the video that Chessbase India posted an hour ago saved on his phone as a guide. The phone he conveniently left on his bed that’s twenty minutes away in his hotel room but is it truly Nodirbek’s fault that he’s been fretting about this bag ever since he arrived in India? Thinking about whether he’ll like it? That he won’t just smile and thank Nodirbek and leave it at that?
His footsteps echo in the mostly silent building, save for some cleaning staff, and when he sees the door to the player’s rest area, Nodirbek’s eyes brighten with renewed determination.
All you have to do is open the door, wish him happy birthday, and give him the bag. It’s simple Nodi.
He nods to himself, his heart feeling less like it wants to burst out from his chest as he exhales heavily. Vidit and Dubov were with him if he remembers the video correctly (he’s watched it more times than he’d care to admit, committing every aspect meticulously to memory), so at the very least Nodirbek won’t be alone with him. It’ll be fine, he’ll be fine even if the other two wonder why he has a birthday gift for Vincent Keymer.
He repeats his ‘Everything will be Fine’ mantra as he cautiously pushes the door open.
And immediately freezes.
The video was correct in some regard. Even with his back to Nodirbek he could recognise Vincent’s tall frame anywhere. The rapid German being spoken over the phone, a bonus. He’s waving his free hand about as he talks, walking back and forth by the far wall of the room; so engrossed in his conversation that he hasn’t noticed that he’s no longer alone.
Which was what Nodirbek noticed as soon as he opened the door. The fact that they were alone when he was pretty damn sure that wouldn’t be the case having watching the little blog, that makes the breath in Nodirbek’s throat hitch. A tiny, normally inaudible sound, but Vincent instantly spins around on his heel.
Nodirbek’s grip on the bag slackens ever so slightly as Vincent’s eyes widen to almost comical proportions, accompanied by several shakes of his head as if he believes what he’s seeing is just a figment of his imagination. The sunlight catches in his hair as he does so, threads of gossamer and gold blurring together, not that Nodirbek is paying too much attention.
The person on the other end of the call, says something, wondering why Vincent stopped halfway through a sentence, and inadvertently break the weird tension that was about to start seeping into the rest area as Vincent jerks back to attention. He quickly replies with what seems to be an apology, before hanging up and turning back to Nodirbek.
He can’t remember how to function properly as Vincent’s bright eyes regard him with curiosity.
“Not that I don’t mind seeing you Nodi, but to what do I owe the pleasure of your company? I thought you went back to the hotel…” The hint of cheerfulness in his voice draws Nodirbek closer like a moth to a flame, as he takes a cautious step forward, his plan all but forgotten.
“I… Uh… Well…”
The beginnings of a blush cause his cheeks to heat up as Vincent’s gaze moves down to the bag in his hand. He chuckles slightly.
“Always the popular one hm? I suppose everyone likes the quiet silent ones…”
Was that a compliment?
Nodirbek almost stumbles forward, with the grace of a drunken man as he finally stands in front of Vincent, but he cannot bring himself to look at him as he practically shoves the bag into the other’s chest. A sense of relief floods through him like a cooling balm to be rid of the godforsaken thing at last.
“It’s for you…” He mutters as he steps back, eyes flitting everywhere but at the other boy. The silence in reply is deafening, and he’s already prepping an apology like it’s a line in the Spanish before Vincent speaks up.
“I… Wait, this is for me?”
If he imagines the shock in Vincent’s voice, it almost succeeds in cheering Nodirbek up.
“Yes… that’s what I said.”
Another momentary pause, he can almost hear the gears whirring in Vincent’s head before the realisation hits him.
“You… You got me a birthday present? Me?”
Nodirbek shifts about uncomfortably, hoping that in itself is answer enough.
“Hey, Nodi, look at me.”
He flinches at the tiny command, but who is he to resist Vincent like that? Raising his head slightly, Nodirbek is met by a signature Keymer dazzling grin. Bright like the sun, yet he can’t look away.
“I’m flattered, really, I am. Thank you.”
He suspects that Vincent is trying to reassure him in some regard, but his words only makes the blush on Nodirbek’s cheeks darken.
“It’s… the least I could do.”
Vincent shakes his head, refuting his weak response.
“Honestly, I think everyone forgot it was my birthday today until the obligatory ‘Happy Birthday’ post from Chess.com was posted, but you remembered! So let me be flattered please.” He holds up the bag before Nodirbek has even a sliver of a chance to reply. “Can I open it now? Or do you want me to wait until later?”
His eyebrows furrow with some confusion. Vincent’s always been the one who acts impulsively, and only thinks about the consequence of his actions many hours later after the fact. So why is his exuberance being restrained for something as meaningless as a birthday present? Vincent tilts his head to the side expectantly, and Nodirbek realises that maybe he should answer.
“Yeah… Of course you can Vinnie, it’s only something small.” The little nickname he swore he would never call Vincent to his face, a name that was supposed to stay between his delusional subconscious and himself, slips from his lips, and Nodirbek is instantly mortified. To his credit, Vincent doesn’t remark on it, but his lips twitch upwards in amusement as his attention turns back to the bag now in his hands. All Nodirbek can do is hold what little breath he has left in bated anticipation as the room falls silent, save for the quiet ripping of tissue paper as the present is opened.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the golden retriever mug that Nodirbek just so happened to buy because it reminded him of the boy standing in front of him is left in Vincent’s hands. The room is swollen with stillness as he turns it over in his hands, Nodirbek watching every small movement closely.
“This… You got this from the same place I got you the rabbit mug, right?”
His words are like hands grabbing at Nodirbek’s heart.
He doesn’t remember what tournament they were competing at, but what he does remember is that Vincent Keymer doesn’t wait for anyone to open the door as he strides into Nodirbek’s hotel room, throwing himself on Nodirbek’s bed before he can even say a thing.
“What the- You can’t just burst in like this?” Nodirbek cannot help the indignation that creeps into his voice, but he isn’t truly upset. Unfortunately, Vincent knows this too as he grins, holding up a small box.
“I had to get this to you Nodi, they only had one left, and it reminded me of you.” Vincent’s sincerity, helped by the puppy dog eyes he uses to get his own way, floors Nodirbek slightly, as he stares at the box.
“You… You bought me something?” He stutters as Vincent hands him the box with a wide grin.
“No… I’m just offloading my rubbish on you. Of course it’s for you, open it!”
Vincent watches him eagerly as he opens the box, and carefully tears the wrapping off of the object. He lifts out the mug that’s shaped like a rabbit, and his eyebrows narrow.
“What on Earth is this Vincent?”
Vincent momentarily pauses at the rising tone in Nodirbek’s voice, but quickly replies.
“I told you; it reminded me of you!”
“You think I’m like a rabbit?”
“Well yeah, because you’re quiet and observant, you’re good at quick time controls, you’re streetwise smart…”
Vincent counts his arguments off his fingers and would probably continue on for another while if he wasn’t abruptly interrupted by a pillow being flung at his head. He yelps in shock, and moves for cover, preventing him from seeing the deep scarlet on Nodirbek’s cheeks.
“I can’t believe you Vincent, you think this is funny!”
“Nodi… Nodi? I’m right, aren’t I?”
He flinches at Vincent’s words, the memory he’s kept on hold for years jammed and stuck on repeat but faded to nothing more but background noise. Sweat sticks to his fingertips as Nodirbek scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Sorry… you reminded me of when you gave me that mug, but yes I did get yours in the same place.”
Vincent nods solemnly, his grin softening.
“You know, I thought you were actually going to kill me then. I never saw someone get so upset over a mug in my life!”
“I guess getting called a rabbit wasn’t the most flattering to me…” He allows himself to smile slightly. “And I also hadn’t expected you to get me something so thoughtful, I guess?”
He feels more at ease as Vincent lets out a dramatic gasp.
“Excuse me, just because I’m not like you doesn’t mean I can’t show some tact now and again Nodi, you wound my poor heart.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive Vincent…” he retorts as Vincent studies the mug some more.
“So I remind you of a dog?”
Nodirbek nods with amusement.
“The larger than life personality that almost fills a room, how loud and eager you are to do anything that doesn’t involve work…” Maybe he’s imagining it, but Vincent’s cheeks seem to be getting pinker as he continues. “And then there’s how you look for attention all the time, for comfort…”
He’s getting lost in all the little nuances he’s noticed about Vincent during every tournament they’ve played together, the little time they’ve spent together. More than likely he’s running his mouth a little too much, and in another world Nodirbek would probably slap himself for not shutting up sooner, but he can’t bring himself to. The rosy apple blush he can see coating Vincent’s face and beginning to creep down his neck only serves to spur him on.
“Lieber Gott, du bist unglaublich...” Vincent mutters shakily as his free hand grabs Nodirbek’s shirt collar, before pulling him so his body is flush against a warm chest. Before he can even squeak at their proximity, Vincent’s lips are on his and Nodirbek’s brain stops working. He doesn’t think of his five-step plan to gift his present, how nervous he felt. All he thinks about is how hot yet soft and feeling like home Vincent feels, so he needs to commit all of what’s happening to memory instead, how Vincent’s body feels so right against his, how he tastes as he’s tugged closer. The mug digs into his stomach uncomfortably, but Nodirbek can’t bring himself to care about that right now, all he cares about is melting into Vincent’s chest with a soft sigh.
“You know… this is the best birthday present I could’ve gotten today…” Vincent murmurs as he pulls away slightly. “The Nodirbek Abdusattorov in my arms… arm.” He corrects himself with a sheepish beam, which only draws Nodirbek’s attention to his swollen lips that he caused and oh oh.
“You like me.”
It’s not shaped like a question, just a statement as he glances at Vincent, scarcely believing his ears. Vincent simply laughs in response, carefully placing the mug on the nearby table so he can hug him tightly, hot breath tickling at Nodirbek’s ears. “As you so eloquently put it, I always wanted attention, but from you specifically Nodi. I don’t go to just anyone to give them a frankly silly looking rabbit cup you know!”
“It’s my favourite…” He mumbles into Vincent’s neck, dazed from this confession of sorts.
“So I’m your favourite then?” The hands laced around his neck tighten slightly, as if their owner is bracing to hear the worst.
“ I guess so…”
Pause.
“You… You mean that…?”
The sliver of vulnerability in Vincent’s voice is like a knife in his heart. He nods.
“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
Pause.
He isn’t expecting for Vincent to push him away, but he does, and the knife is his heart twists that little bit more, but he’s grinning like the little gremlin he can be, as radiant as a second sun in the sky and Nodirbek wants to kiss him again. Badly. He’s stopped by fingers that lace through his, Vincent’s holding his hand and the gift bag in the other as he tugs Nodirbek out of the rest area.
“Well, you’re my favourite too Nodi!”
Vincent announces cheerfully as they step back into the waiting arms of the evening sun, squeezing his hand gently. “So you get to share the birthday cake that I wasn’t supposed to know about with me, understood?”
The mere juxtaposition of those two small sentences tug Nodirbek’s lips upwards as he squeezes his hand back.
“I’m honoured to be your favourite and have such privileges.”