{trigger warning: mention of AIDS, mention of sex, dying character}
"Move the pawn."
Josh sits across from Tyler in the hospital chair, looking at the chess board with too much concentration. His brows are furrowed, a skeletal, pale hand scratching at his overgrown beard. He looks serenely beautiful, if not deadly tired, but the serenity vanishes the moment his hand moves to grab the king.
"No," Tyler says, rolling his eyes. "That's the king. You need to protect him, use some brains, baby."
"I know, I know," Josh scowls, setting the king down. "Here I... go." He picks up a rook and examines it before promptly putting it back where he grabbed it from.
A minute passes. Josh is still staring at the board pieces with fierce intensity, excessive even for a game of chess. Tyler scoffs affectionately.
"Play the game," he cooes, propping his chin on one hand.
"Don't watch me, you're making me nervous," Josh says, grabbing the same rook and sliding it two spaces up.
"Have a little water." Tyler slides his glass over to Josh, who promptly ignores it. "Josh, the doctor said you need to stay hydrated or-"
"I know what the doctor said," he snaps, startling Tyler for moment. "Oh, shit, I blew it."
Tyler examines his face. Ever since he was diagnosed with some incurable disease that's been latching itself onto gay men like the plague, Josh's skin has lost all its color, turning an ashy gray that showed all the green and blue veins underneath. His eyes have sunken into their sockets, with hollow cheeks and bony hands. He must've felt Tyler staring, because he looks up, his too-serious face softening to send him a sly smile.
"Maybe you can show me how to play again. I think I've forgotten."
"Do you really want my help?" Tyler asks, raising an eyebrow, smiling with corner of his mouth.
Josh tilts his head and shrugs. "No, not really."
"Then why ask?"
"I just wanted to see you smile again."
Tyler almost chuckles, but the urge to laugh fades quickly when his eyes watch Josh's hand with the IV in it reach for a black pawn. "How about we just start over?" He suggests, moving the pieces back to their original spaces. "It can't be worst than it already
"I'll go first," Josh offers, going for a knight.
"No, not that one. Move a pawn."
"Why?" He goes for a bishop.
"Move."
"Where?"
"There."
"Here?"
"Move a fucking pawn, J."
"Who?" Josh drops the bishop and grabs the queen.
"No! Not the queen."
"Who?"
Tyler pushes his seat back with his feet, rubbing his temples. "Jesus. Life's a sham."
"Why are you taking this so seriously, baby?" Josh asks in an annoyed voice, setting the queen down. "It's just a game of chess. Stop overanalyzing it."
"Wining is everything to me," Tyler replies as if it's obvious, which it should be. That's why they broke up in the first place. "It's all that matters in life."
Josh rolls his eyes. "Nothing is everything to me." He pauses and looks Tyler right in the eye. "Except sex."
"Move. A. Pawn."
"... And money."
After a moment of staring at each other, battling for mental dominance, Josh gives in and slides a pawn two spaces forward.
Tyler continues to look at him, and he wants to kiss him but refrain from doing so. "Who knew ten months could change everything," he says, suddenly craving affection.
"You knew. That's why you loved me, right?"
Pause.
"Good first move."
Josh smiles, and from under the table, he hooks an ankle with Tyler's. Affection. "It was alright. Take your turn."
Tyler returns his focus to the game. "Thanks, baby."
After a moment of calculating his next moves, Tyler felt Josh's eyes burning holes into him, and he looks up. "Move a pawn," Josh says mockingly, grinning.
Tyler raises an eyebrow, trying to stop himself from smiling. Josh rolls his eyes.
"Move a pawn," he says again, this time more sincerely. He reaches over the table, taking Tyler's hand in his and directing it somewhere over the board. "Take my hand, love, and play the game."
Under any other circumstances, Tyler would've stopped him, but Josh's hands are so cold and he looks so beautiful despite the disease eating away at him from the inside out. He's unable to stop himself from leaning over the table to kiss.
"God, you're pretty," he sighs.
He barely makes it an inch away from his lips before Josh pulls away, dropping Tyler's hand. One black pawn has moved up two spaces. "More's the pity, seeing you need a man-"
"What?-"
"Who's brainy and lustful." Josh pushes back into his seats and cups his face, making fish lips. "And handsome and a housewife and healthy."
The last word bit like acid, and Tyler audibly flinched, sucking air through his teeth. "How could you even say that? I love you the way you are."
Josh still has an angry expression but his head drops, looking away from him. Blindly, he moves another piece, but Tyler doesn't care anymore.
"Move the pawn," Josh says.
Tyler does so. "Your turn."
"Where do I go?" He asks.
"There." Tyler points. He's helping Josh win but he doesn't notice because he's too distracted by Josh and his stupidly and serenely beautiful face. He doesn't know why he's angry, but he doesn't want him to be.
"Here?"
"No, you don't-" Tyler pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to control his breathing.
"How should I behave? Prim and proper?"
"What the hell does that even mean?"
"Maybe we should call it quits."
He doesn't know if Josh means the game or their relationship. "This game shits."
He slowly begins to put the pieces back. For some reason, Josh leans into him, lips brushing his.
"Let me win?"
Tyler finds himself nodding. "Of course."
"Really?"
"Yeah, sure."
Josh pulls back once again when Tyler leans in for a kiss. "Thanks!"
"Wait." Again, Josh is a master seductor, especially when it comes to Tyler and his soft side for him.
"Josh wins!"
"Wait-"
"Josh wins!"
He starts to move the chess pieces with rapid fire speed, snatching Tyler's king. "Wait!"
"Checkmate!" Josh wiggles the black piece in his face triumphantly.
Tyler stands, slamming his hands on either side of the chess board. "What the hell, that's not a fair game!"
"You let me win. What, you can't handle losing for once?" Josh spits back, his dark eyes glowing challengingly under the yellow hospital lights. He tries to stand and his hands join Tyler's on the table, but they slip under his weight and he falls, sending the pieces scattering to the floor. Tyler holds him up by his shoulders, but Josh pushes him away. "Even if it costs you everything?"
"Winning is everything."
"So what the hell am I?"
"You're the love of my life!" Tyler shouts.
Josh scowls. "But you can't even let me win this once."
He's got a point, but Tyler's pride interferes with his love for Josh. "I don't lose." Tyler takes a couple steps back from the table, turning away from Josh.
"Right, because Joshua Joseph's meant to be the housewife," Josh mocks, his voice heightening to a feminine pitch. "I'm supposed to cook, clean, cut the fucking coupons for when I shop, and love you uncon-fucking-ditionally."
"This has got to stop." Tyler's head spins, his hands balled into fists. He can't breathe, it feels like a bag of bricks have fallen on his chest.
They had a fight just like this one before Josh disappeared from his life for two years. Tyler had bluffed and told Josh if he wanted to stay he had to let him win. Josh called him on his bluff and left. He showed up five months ago and got diagnosed with AIDS a month after his return, when he and Tyler had made up and started living together. It's his fault Josh got infected, because he couldn't handle losing one argument.
By winning the game, he lost his lover.
"This relationship was a fabulous flop," Josh laughs almost in disbelief.
"A flop?"
He abruptly stands, his legs shaking underneath him. Fearlessly, he steps up to Tyler, even though Tyler towered over him. "I can't believe I thought we would work this time around, but you're the same."
"I'm sorry, have you seen yourself? You slept with how many men for two years? Did they remind you of me when they fucked you?" Tyler is seething, but he doesn't know why. He thinks it's from fear, because Josh's whole body is trembling and his forehead has broken into a sweat.
"Yeah, I have, and at least I have an excuse to look like and be a piece of shit." Josh shoves a finger into Tyler's chest, like poking a sleeping bear. "I'm dying, you fuckhead, what's your excuse?"
"Don't you understand that all I wanted was a fucking kiss from you, that what I'm afraid of losing is you," Tyler barks, taking a step away from Josh, throwing his hands up in he air when he tries to grab one of Tyler's arms.
"Don't you understand that I don't love you anymore!" Josh slams his fists into Tyler's chest with each word and his knees buckle, sending him tumbling to the floor.
Tyler catches him by his upper arms, fear stabbing its icy claws into his heart for the first time since Josh collapsed during their game of tennis. It takes him a minute for his feet to grip the floor again, but once he can stand by himself, Josh shoves Tyler away, stumbling into his hospital bed.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" He snaps, waving his arm so Tyler doesn't get any closer. "I can... I can take care of myself."
"Just because you can doesn't mean you have to. I'm here now. I've got you." Tyler takes his hand and helps him onto the bed, wiping his forehead with a wet-cloth.
Josh reluctantly lets him, shivering despite sweating. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and do that was worrisome on its own, he could barely hold his head up anymore.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, leaning his head against the wall. "I do love you, I just don't want to break your heart when I..."
Tyler cups his jaw gently and kisses the corner of his mouth in a way to shut him up, not wanting him to finish that thought. "All I ever wanted was you, Josh. I don't care how, I just want to hold you and kiss you and let me be yours."
"You always were mine," Josh says, barely able to hold his eyes open anymore. "Every man after you, I always imagined that they were you."
"Is my dick that good?"
Josh laughs softly, and he finally kisses Tyler, so gently that it makes Tyler's heart cry out. "You were the best thing I ever had."
He says it with such finality that Tyler chokes up; they both know he won't live long enough for Tyler to come up with a proper response.
"I'll get a nurse," Tyler says, brushing Josh's curls away from his sweaty forehead.
"I love you." Josh is asleep before Tyler even gets up.
He goes to leave, seeing the white king had rolled to through the door. Tyler picks it up, shuts the door to Josh's room as quietly as he can behind him, and proceeds to break down into tears.
Hayley Williams, the doctor and a friend of his, finds him there and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Tyler, we need to talk."
"Leave me alone," Tyler says, hiding his face from her burning serious gaze. "I can't handle any reports of his health decline."
"Actually... it's about you."
Tyler looks up. "What?"
"Since you two slept together before he was diagnosed, I checked your blood and..."
Hayley doesn't finish her sentence. She doesn't need to. Tyler knows exactly what she'll say.
"I have it too."