{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."
