Chapter Text
For as long as Geto cared to remember, his life was made of black and white squares. Just the feeling of pawns and knights and rooks moving beneath his fingers, and the taste of victory in his mouth. Nothing else mattered, and if anything else had ever existed, he'd deny remembering it. He'd spent so many years winning that the few losses he'd allegedly seen as a teenager were quickly erased from the tabloids. That was until he first shook Gojo Satoru’s hand above a board.
The frankly impressive string of draws was one hell of a conundrum. Surely, one day, this would come to an end. Either one of them would win, or one would give up the rivalry to move on. But Gojo didn’t have to win to prove his worth, and Geto enjoyed throwing the media for a loop, treating each draw like it was breaking news… like it hadn’t happened hundreds of times before. So here they were, the 2 Grandmasters once again facing each other in another tournament finale.
All the other tables had been vacated, their respective games finished long ago, with only the usual duo remaining on the leaderboard. Playing against one another despite knowing full well how this would end. Indeed, the board looked doomed already, the match’s outcome close at hand. Both players could see possible breakthroughs; an easy-to-threaten piece here, a slightly weak defense there.
They also knew they were the only ones seeing those flaws.
After all, there was a reason they were the only ones at the top, perpetually sharing the 1st place, with the 2nd best Grandmaster being nowhere near their level. No chess prodigy had ever come close to their level. Like ants to humans, except it wasn’t a matter of height or enlightenment, they simply didn’t dare imagine what possibilities lay ahead. Perhaps it seemed unattainable to them, so there was no point in trying.
But Geto and his rival had tried, and succeeded. The board was crystal clear to them. Hundreds of thousands of algorithms written down in their minds. Every single different ending was imagined and thought through. Right, it was probably just a matter of imagination. Imagination, imaginary numbers, imaginary pieces. Until they'd bring the unheard-of algorithms to reality on some simple black and white squares.
Both positions looked impossibly strong to the commentators. But Geto smiled, just waiting for Gojo to take his knight in 4 moves. Ugh, that would be such a beautiful steal, the journals would rave about it for weeks… It was so brilliant, so perfect. Geto was practically drooling over it. Practically.
1 move. 2. 3, and Geto was forced to leave his knight wide open.
Gojo’s gaze suddenly met his own, his sunglasses having slipped down his nose from his intense staring down towards the board. But his grin was too close to a smirk to mean anything good.
“Adjourn.”
What?
“What?”
The arbiter came to their table and handed the piece of paper to Gojo, who grabbed it without looking away from Geto. He quickly scribbled his move before getting up and storming out, smile still plastered on and much too proud for Geto’s liking. The envelope wasn’t even sealed before he was out of the room.
Geto just sat there, shocked and staring at the empty seat across from him. He took a few moments to grieve his made-up knight-stealing articles before taking his leave, walking out much more politely than Gojo. Bastard.
------
As Gojo exited the building and attempted to dodge the paparazzi lining the walkway, all he could think about was Geto’s gobsmacked expression. God, he’d ignore a free knight any day for this. The sound of fans screeching, cameras clicking and journalists asking questions was loud in his ears; still he powered through the overstimulation and smiled brightly.
Just as he made it to his chauffeur’s car, he heard Geto coming out of the building too. Well, more like he heard people start annoyingly squealing over The Pawn Manipulator’s arrival. As if he wouldn’t be screaming along with them, was he not Geto’s direct rival.
Suddenly, all cameras turned to the dark-haired man, who in turn slowly made his way to Gojo. He stopped just 2 steps away. Too close to be casual, if only he weren’t wearing an almost hateful-looking scowl. I really pissed him off this time, Gojo thought as he extended a hand towards the other in a mock apology.
“See you tomorrow, Drawmaster?” he said with a genuine smile.
Geto hesitated, staying quiet a moment too long, letting the tension of their competitiveness wash over the crowd, silently observing them.
“Right, but I guess you won’t be sleeping much if you deemed your position was so bad you had to adjourn,” Geto said with a smirk as he shook his hand. “Goodbye, Gojo.”
Gojo was the one now left staring in shock as the other took his leave. The journalists started yelling again, a few of them trying to follow Geto to his car only to be stopped by a bodyguard. Gojo tried to save face by grinning even brighter than before and even answering a few questions for once before getting in the vehicle awaiting him, but he knew he had lost this one.
Not that he'd mind finally losing a game to Geto, but he'd needed to be perfect for the press. He had to be. He felt shame tugging at the corner of his mind, but he only let frustration over the public embarrassment take over instead of old painful memories.
He allowed himself a few minutes of being mad before gathering his thoughts back to their current game, already thinking 12 moves ahead. The match would be over in 2 hours of playing at most, depending on how far they'd push the inevitable stalemate. He let the pieces glide over the board in his head, his thoughts quieting down.
No matter what moves he saw himself make, he knew Geto would match him, and all endgames he imagined resulted in draws. Obviously. Still, he enjoyed the thrill of not knowing exactly which move Geto would play.
He was perfectly composed by the time the car stopped in front of the grand 5-star hotel. The very same one he was sharing with Geto.
Gojo huffed a laugh to himself. The dark-haired man was right about something; there wouldn’t be much sleeping happening tonight.
------
Once he had settled in his hotel suite, Geto decided to forego the proper match preparation he should be doing in light of the adjournment - not really feeling like spending an all-nighter surrounded by Grandmaster friends and old mentors, staring at yet another checkered board. He was really getting tired of those damned squares, he knew all he would see would be his failure to win today.
I didn’t fail, I didn’t lose anything. We just adjourned.
The lone abandoned knight haunted him for some reason. It'd be fine. He just had to keep repeating his daily affirmations on loop and he’d be fine. No time to crumble in a bottomless well of self-hatred now, right in the middle of an important tournament.
Their rivalry wasn't even real, so he couldn't figure out for the life of him why his temples were throbbing with frustration.
So dinner it was instead. He went through the motions of getting to the restaurant and greeting one of his old coaches, Mr. Yaga, mindlessly. Well, he wasn't just one of his old coaches, he was the first person he’d ever played chess against.
Back when he had nothing to his name but a beat-up chessboard found in a dumpster with half the pieces missing. Back when he was just a blank-eyed child with a silly hope of becoming something, anything, one day.
“Do you have a game plan for tomorrow?” The older man asked gently, a certain hesitation evident in his careful tone.
“Yes.”
Mr. Yaga seemed to understand him just fine and dropped the subject. It was no use pushing Geto into a corner and forcing him to make a plan. He already had a dozen plans. He didn’t need another. It didn’t matter that in all possibilities he'd imagined, none of them featured an adjournment. It didn’t matter that he had no idea what Gojo was thinking. None of it mattered. None of it is genuine competition. They're equals. It's fine.
And really shouldn't he be happy his knight was safe? Less points for Gojo and all that… But he'd hung it, forsaken it. What's the point in giving up a piece just for it to be returned?
His head was starting to hurt. As he left the restaurant after a few hours of chatting about whatever, he could feel all the exhaustion of the tournament weighing down on his shoulders.
He pulled his hood up to avoid any possible creeping paparazzi.
On the walk back, Geto couldn't focus on anything specific - maybe the dinner wasn't his best idea. He didn't even remember a single thing his retired mentor had told him. So much for a calming moment far away from the black and white squares… Playing against himself would've made for better stress relief at this point.
God, he couldn’t wait for the event to be over so he could move on to another.
One that hopefully didn’t involve one tall and handsome blue-eyed prodigy.
------
Gojo was patiently waiting in the hallway when a suspicious hooded figure rounded the corner. Not that he looked more right-at-place, just lingering in front of a hotel door that didn’t belong to him… Geto didn’t even pause at the sight, just pulled down his hood, walked up to him, and slid his key into the lock, to Gojo’s delight.
“You shouldn’t just hang out here like this,” Geto said quietly, turning the key once, then twice, then 3 times when the handle wouldn’t budge. “If someone saw you, we’d be in huge trouble.” Finally, the door opened, and he let Gojo go into the suite first before locking the door behind them.
“What, scared people will finally figure out you’re just a low Elo cheater who probably doesn’t even know how the pieces move?” Gojo said in a mocking voice, just trying to push his buttons in hopes that things would escalate.
“Hey, I’m not the one who apparently needed an adjournment barely 4 hours in,” Geto joked back.
“Huh?! We’d been playing for 6 and a half hours already!”
A sigh.
“Okay, but don’t pretend you actually needed to adjourn,” Geto replied with a more serious look, voice rising a little. “Why did you even do that? To piss me off? I had been looking forward to that pawn move for 20 minutes!”
Geto was genuinely getting frustrated now, and Gojo stopped smiling. Things had escalated alright, just not in the way he’d wanted. He was waiting for a harsh kiss, maybe a push towards the bed if he was lucky, not a scolding.
“Ah, well…” Gojo looked unsure, staring at some spot on the carpeted floor of the suite. He scratched his neck awkwardly, just scouring his own thoughts in silence to try and find a way out of the tense situation.
Geto just sighed guiltily, his anger seemingly gone with the breath. He moved towards the desk where a bottle of red wine was set down along with a few bottles of water. All ordered earlier in case Gojo showed up, probably.
“Whatever,” he popped open the cork with a loud sound. “It’s fine, I can always dream about that imaginary knight steal and it’ll feel just as great.” He smiled a little to Gojo’s relief and took out 2 glasses. “Want some?”
“Nah, thanks, gotta keep my mind sharp,” the taller man replied, smile back and bashfulness gone as he sat on the edge of the bed. Geto cocked an eyebrow up at that.
“Oh? What, do you have another game to play tonight?”
“Something like that. Not anything chess related though...”
They were both smirking at each other knowingly now. The dark-haired man chuckled, shaking his head, and stepped up to Gojo, glass in hand.
“What's it related to then?”
Gojo just smiled up at him silently, holding his gaze, and right as the other looked away to sip his wine, he grabbed his belt to bring him closer. Geto, now standing between his legs, choked lightly on his wine out of surprise as Gojo immediately started undoing his belt.
The movement made the dark liquid in the glass waver, and a drop fell onto Gojo's pristine white slacks, now looking like some abstract art piece of blood in the snow. He could probably find some masterful meaning relating to their affair in that, but he was too busy thinking of long black hair and purple eyes.
“Ah- Don’t think I’m forgetting this adjournment business, you can't bribe me with just a measly blowjob,” Geto quipped, even as his face was visibly getting warmer.
“ ‘Just a measly blowjob’? Calm down, Mr. Grandmaster, it's only 9 pm.”
“...Satoru, you're a Grandmaster too,” Geto laughed as his belt was just straight up thrown to the floor. “Your dirty talk needs some serious work.”
Gojo halted just as he hooked his fingers in the other’s waistband and looked up with half-lidded eyes.
“Let’s just cut the shit, Suguru, okay?”, and without waiting for an answer, he pulled down both his pants and briefs at once down to his knees.
Geto barely had time to gasp at the sudden coldness before his half-hard length was enveloped in the wet heat of Gojo’s mouth.
“Mfh- shit, Satoru, are you really in such a hurry?”
Gojo just glanced up at him with a meaningful look, all lust-clouded eyes and mouth full of cock and everything and- and just– fuck, yeah, Geto couldn’t wait either.
He was fully hard within just a minute of barely half his length being cockwarmed by Gojo’s perfect mouth; this man would really be the death of him. Geto took off the jacket he was still wearing, juggling his wine glass and doing his best not to jostle the sitting man below him before his right hand made its way to soft, tousled white hair.
With a pleasured sigh, he pulled Gojo off until his tip rested on the man’s lips, then pushed him back in gently, inciting him to set a slow but steady pace. He was careful not to give him too much and make him choke, he knew how much Gojo hated that.
“Mmh… I’m not gonna last long, Satoru,” he took a sip of wine, way too casual for his words and how hot he was feeling. Gojo just closed his eyes and moaned in acknowledgement before starting to bob his head faster, occasionally twisting it to let his tongue swipe over the spot he knew would make Geto keen.
When the faster motions made him gag lightly, he brought a hand up to stroke the few inches he couldn’t fit comfortably to make up for it. Drool was dripping profusely down his chin, which he would find disgusting if the smooth glide it provided didn't make his dick jump in its confinements.
Geto was full on panting now. He gulped down the rest of his drink quickly and threw the glass onto the ground, uncaring of the crash of broken glass scattering on the ground and the few drops of wine staining the expensive carpet. With both his hands now free, he grabbed Gojo’s head to hold him still, palms resting on his heated cheeks. He bucked his hips lightly, still careful as ever.
“Hmf-” Gojo started moaning around the hard length, pants tented, saliva dripping down his neck, and eyes tearful. He let Geto fuck his face (if it could even be called that with how gentle the man was being) a minute longer before he pulled back to swirl his tongue over the sensitive tip for a moment - Geto moaned loudly and unabashedly at that - then slowly traced the most prominent vein as he pushed back in until his lips hit his fist.
“Fuck!” Suddenly, Geto pulled out of his mouth and put his hand over the one Gojo still had on his dick, gripping tightly and crushing the pale knuckles to stave off his orgasm.
Gojo wiped his mouth and panted, “Hmm, ha- who's in a hurry now, Suguru?”
“Hah- yeah, yeah,” Geto breathed out. “You got me, huh- I can’t wait any longer.” With that, he pulled the other man to his feet and kissed him deeply. It was all heat and desperation. And from his soft, full lips down to the way he had to angle his head up to make up for the few inches Gojo had over him… The taller man was just 2 kisses away from professing his love for his lifelong opponent.
So it was definitely, 100% a relief when they separated, and Geto pushed him down onto the bed. He quickly climbed over him and leaned in close. Gojo’s eyes fluttered in preparation for another deep kiss, but the man above dodged his lips and dove for his neck instead.
“Haa- no marks above the collar, Suguru!”
“Mmh, I know, don’t worry.” A kiss on his Adam’s apple. “I just-” A lick up his carotid artery. “I missed you so much sweetheart…”
The white-haired man didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just moaned softly as Geto sucked a bruise on his collarbone. Then another on the other side, one on his sternum, on the swell of his pectoral… Geto just kept trailing wet kisses down, and down until he met his waistband, and just stopped. Clearly, he was done being sweet as he roughly undid the belt and zipper constraining Gojo’s rock hard dick.
“Shit- careful, Suguru! Do you know how much these slacks cost?!” He yelled indignantly through the haze of lust- to no avail. Geto just ripped said stained slacks down his legs along with his underwear, and Gojo could swear he heard a tearing sound.
“I do know you’ll be making that money back with tomorrow’s endgame,” replied Geto under his breath. His were eyes stuck on the at last freed length, admiring its size and almost worrying crimson flush.
Geto quickly got rid of his own clothes, no time for a strip-tease after all (to Gojo’s disappointment), leaving him naked and his counterpart in just an unbuttoned crumpled shirt. Geto quickly lined up his cock with Gojo’s and rutted against him. They moaned in unison at the slide, wet with Gojo’s saliva but just rough enough to leave them panting. Yet, the friction wasn’t enough, and the blue-eyed Grandmaster was visibly losing his already thin patience.
“Come ooon- ah, Suguru please-”
“I know- wait fuck, I don’t have any lube in here…”
“Don’t need it-” Huh? At the visible brain freeze, Gojo just grabbed Geto’s strong hand and brought it down to the noticeably wet and pliant hole between his spread legs.
“I- uhh…” Geto’s flush got darker somehow.
“Your dirty talk is so much better than mine, huh?” Gojo laughed, and tugged on Geto’s hand, inviting him to push his fingers past his rim. His middle finger went in easy enough, so easy in fact that a second one soon followed to pump shallowly all the while deliberately avoiding his sweet spot. “Shit Suguru- hurry up!”
The man in question just twisted his fingers, making Gojo groan loudly. He added a third one carefully, and as soon as it was in down to the knuckle, started finger-fucking the man spread out on the covers. Gojo had no respite to breathe, grabbing the pillow behind his head tightly and his heavy breaths filling the room.
“Satoru…” Geto purrs. “You really drive me crazy, you know. Were you so confident that the night would turn out like this that you hid in your bathroom and fucked yourself open like the good slut you are?”
Gojo clenched down and honest-to-God whimpered at the degrading words.
“You look so angelic for someone who plays like such a little devil… If you apologize for not taking my knight maybe I’ll consider actually fucking you.”
“Suguruuu- Come on I-I thought we were AH- were past that!” He was really going to lose his mind like this, Geto’s chess prodigy hands way too skilled and precise for his brain to keep up. The thick fingers were just slightly grazing his prostate, Geto definitely missing it on purpose like the bastard he was.
“Hah- Maybe I just want to hear you beg for my cock Satoru,” Geto said with all the honesty in the world and all the nonchalance he could muster. Maybe he was expecting some more arguing, but Gojo had completely given up on his dignity in the hotel bathroom. The very same one where he’d prepared himself just half an hour prior, bent over, a leg propped up on the sink, and 4 fingers pumping into himself while thinking of his one and only rival.
So he begged. “Please- Suguru please, plea- hah! I-I needed you inside me like 2 hours ago, I don’t need more prep!” his eyes filled with tears of frustration, and Geto groaned at both the sight and the words reaching his ears.
“D-don't you want to ruin me? I'm all yours, plea-”
“Shit, okay I’ll give it to you,” the dark-haired man sat up and slipped out his fingers. He gathered Gojo’s right leg in his arm, pulled him closer and rested a pale thigh against his own chest. His rock-hard cock was still wet with saliva, but he spat in his hand and rubbed it on the flushed skin just in case, before he guided it towards the begging man’s twitching entrance.
“Yes, yes- finally!” Gojo’s head flew back as the fat tip pushed in, easily slipping in but still stretching him out just right. Geto's cock was truly made just for him, slightly shorter than his but way girthier, with a thick pulsing vein running down the side, and curving upwards in such a way he was guaranteed to hit his prostate no matter the angle. The spatter of hair making up his happy trail really tied it all together.
Geto slowly fucked in, always careful not to hurt Satoru who seemed to be reaching some kind of enlightenment with how his eyes rolled back and how wide his smile was. As soon as Geto bottomed out, he pulled back out to the crown of his tip and immediately slammed in. Hard and fast and rough and just what they both needed.
Both men knew this tryst wouldn’t last long - like most things in their fast paced lives - and so they made the most of it. The room was filled with high pitched moans and the clapping of strong hips meeting Gojo’s reddening buttocks. Gojo gripped the sheets tightly, and in return Geto gripped his leg just as tight, hugging it close and panting hot breaths on the pale skin. Gojo's eyes rolled back when his partner moved his right hand to press down on his stomach, right below his navel, where he knew his cock was hitting.
“Ah, ah, hah- f- faster Suguru! C-come on mmh-” Gojo pleaded as best as he could in between the harsh thrusts assaulting his sweet spot that made his entire body move on the bed, and of course the man above obeyed. He slammed his cock in faster, harder still.
“Satoru…” Geto purred. “Hm! You feel so good… So tight and perfect around me,” he slammed in harder and threw his head back, long hair swaying and spilling down a strong back. “How does it feel, tell me love!”
“You m-make- fuck! You make me feel so good too!” Gojo reached for his dick that was leaking pathetically against his abs only to be slapped away as Geto readjusted them. The thrusting stopped for a moment as he let go of his leg - that was now sporting bruised handprints - and grabbed Gojo’s hips instead. The latter immediately crossed his legs behind the man’s strong back and pressed his ankles there, bringing him closer.
As Geto started moving again, he brought a hand to his lover’s length and began jerking him in time with his thrusts - fist colliding with white pubes at the same time he bottomed out. Gojo forced his hands off the sheets to hold onto Geto's forearms instead, nails digging in as his body was dragged roughly over the silk bed sheets.
“Suguru, Suguru- I’m so c-close ah- huh!”
“M-me too shit- where–”
“Inside! Hah please, I know y-you're still clean,” the fact that they were only sleeping with each other was left unsaid, because of course they would be loyal to one another despite not even being in a relationship. Just another sort of silent agreement between them. Whatever the case, all thoughts left Gojo’s head as Geto’s thrusts got even rougher somehow, hitting his prostate dead-on one last time before he came.
All the white-haired man could do was chant his partner’s name over and over again as translucent white painted his chest, cumming so hard some of it landed on his flushed collarbones. His ears were ringing so loud, he couldn’t hear if Geto had said anything in return, still he felt the warmth filling him and grinned.
Geto shallowly thrusted into him a few more times, before settling and leaning down to kiss him deeply once more. Gojo felt gentle, slightly shaking hands caress his sides as their lips moved together.
And there was so much passion poured into the kiss, Satoru wondered for a second if Suguru might love him back.
------
Both men settled on their respective sides of the bed, sheets changed and bodies cleaned thoroughly. The only proof of their tryst lying in the red scratches on Geto's forearms, the few hickeys on Gojo’s chest and the handprints on his thigh. Still, despite all their exhaustion, sleep wasn’t easy to find for either of them.
This close proximity just wouldn’t allow their thoughts to quiet down. Both thinking about whether or not this competition was as unserious as they made it out to be when together.
Geto thought so. If you asked him - and if he was allowed to reply honestly - he'd say this was a fully engineered farce they had agreed upon without actually talking about it out loud. A silent conspiracy. Just fun practice to make the journalists talk. All a social game, really.
Gojo would disagree. Yes, he played along with the other’s chess style sometimes, taking obvious pieces and offering up his own for a bit of flair. But deep down, he knew they were truly on the same exact level. Even if he didn’t care to win.
And if Geto looked inward and accepted the truth, he would realize that he was also always playing to the best of his abilities. Always trying to win over his counterpart. And never getting there.
If one of them turns around to hold the other close before falling asleep, it goes unmentioned in the morning.
------
The venue was entirely quiet as the 2 best Grandmasters of the modern era entered. The seats were filled with chess enthusiasts, previously defeated players and ecstatic journalists. All chairs occupied safe for the 2 empty ones surrounding the lone table in the center of the room.
Geto was fully calm and centered as he shook his opponent's hand - the contact lingering a second too long - as usual - and took his seat.
He straightened out his dark suit jacket, leaned his head on his palm, and looked at the board contemplatively; acting like he didn’t know it by heart already. He saw Gojo's hand reach out to adjust a few pieces.
The arbiter made his way to their table and started Gojo's clock before unsealing the envelope. He cleared his throat before loudly announcing the awaited move :
“Pawn takes knight on C4.”
Geto couldn’t stop himself from laughing out loud. Well, really, he only chuckled lightly, low enough that it would only be heard by the man in front of him and wouldn't bother anyone.
Satoru paused at the low noise, just for a second, and his eyes flitted up to his counterpart.
Their eyes met for a brief moment and as he noticed Geto’s beaming grin, he couldn't help but think it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.