The First Move
Oct. 24th, 2012 12:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lokifanSo, apparently I wrote this like a year ago and never posted it...
Title: The First Move
Author:lokifan
Word count: 200
Characters/pairings: Ron/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Chess as rehabilitation? That’s a cause Ron can get behind.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for an old challenge, white, at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rondracodrabble. The drabbles split cleanly into 100/100, but it works better without the split.
Ron clattered into the visitors’ room with deliberate noisiness: with the Dementors gone the prisoners didn’t scream any more, but that only left a creepy silence.
Draco’s milk-pale face brightened as Ron thumped the set onto the table between them. “What colour?”
“I’ll play white.”
“Of course. The colour of surrender,” Ron baited.
“My white flag will rule the land of ChessSetia, Weasley.”
They set up the board, as they had every week for eight months. Draco’s fingers traced the carved shapes: pawn, rook, queen. He must know them by heart.
Ron usually played touch-chess, but he’d learnt what the familiar shapes, civilisation in his hands, meant to Draco. Not that Draco would ever say anything.
Draco pouted when Ron took his knight. “Knights are my favourite.”
The clearest proof he’d ever get from Draco, and the meaningful grey gaze, and the guards were all outside -
“You’ll be out soon,” Ron said, holding onto patience like a man about to fall off his broom.
Draco’s eyes narrowed, and then he kissed Ron thoroughly, his hands sliding into Ron’s hair to keep him close. Heat flared through them in the cold room.
“So much for waiting for - ”
“I’m white, remember?” The sharp edges of Draco’s smirk were softened, this close. “I make the first move.”
Title: The First Move
Author:
lokifanWord count: 200
Characters/pairings: Ron/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Chess as rehabilitation? That’s a cause Ron can get behind.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: The boys and girls belong to JKR, even though I’m often much nicer to them than she is.
Author’s Notes: This was written for an old challenge, white, at
rondracodrabble. The drabbles split cleanly into 100/100, but it works better without the split.Ron clattered into the visitors’ room with deliberate noisiness: with the Dementors gone the prisoners didn’t scream any more, but that only left a creepy silence.
Draco’s milk-pale face brightened as Ron thumped the set onto the table between them. “What colour?”
“I’ll play white.”
“Of course. The colour of surrender,” Ron baited.
“My white flag will rule the land of ChessSetia, Weasley.”
They set up the board, as they had every week for eight months. Draco’s fingers traced the carved shapes: pawn, rook, queen. He must know them by heart.
Ron usually played touch-chess, but he’d learnt what the familiar shapes, civilisation in his hands, meant to Draco. Not that Draco would ever say anything.
Draco pouted when Ron took his knight. “Knights are my favourite.”
The clearest proof he’d ever get from Draco, and the meaningful grey gaze, and the guards were all outside -
“You’ll be out soon,” Ron said, holding onto patience like a man about to fall off his broom.
Draco’s eyes narrowed, and then he kissed Ron thoroughly, his hands sliding into Ron’s hair to keep him close. Heat flared through them in the cold room.
“So much for waiting for - ”
“I’m white, remember?” The sharp edges of Draco’s smirk were softened, this close. “I make the first move.”
