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like-a-bantha · 2 months

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Thank you all so much for 100+ notes on this fic, your support means the world to me!! 🥰🥳

Checkmate

Summary: Maybe you're not the best at dejarik, but you do know your way around a chess board. In the absence of a board, you'll make due with your imagination. (Alternate title: Two dorks play chess, maybe they’ll kiss?)

Pairing: Tech/Gender Neutral Reader (no Y/N, no descriptions of reader's appearance other than being shorter than Tech)

Rating: G

Warnings: None! Just some brotherly teasing and good old fashioned chess.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: This is silly and short and not Busted Hyperdrive (it's coming, I promise!) but I couldn't rest until I got this out of my system. It's my first non-platonic fic so if it sounds a little strange, I offer my sincerest 'my bad's. I'm also not a chess master, so if you're just here for the chess you're probably not gonna dig this. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave some feedback! <3

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

It started a few months back when you all had some downtime at Cid’s. You entered the parlor to find her grumbling to herself as she attempted to fix the dejarik table, now temporarily out of commission after taking one too many frustrated blows. You’d all been off-world when it finally kicked the bucket, but Cid’s grumpy tone while recounting the incident paired with the large dent was all the evidence you needed. The Trandoshan, feeling particularly charitable, offered a small handful of credits if they were able to patch up the abused machine. Taking it as a challenge, Tech finished the repairs within the hour, even going as far as to fix the nasty dent. You and Omega waited patiently for the table to be revived so she could teach you how to play, explaining the rules and pieces over a carton of mantell mix. You nod along, half-understanding how the game works but knowing full well you’re about to make a fool of yourself.

“I am finished.” Tech announces, slipping his tools back into their respective slots on his belt as he stands. He’s nearly knocked over by his little sister in her mad dash to the table, waving you over as if you’re not just a few steps behind her.

Nevertheless, you laugh and pick up the pace, thanking Tech as you take your seat. Omega pushes a few buttons and the table begins humming to life. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not gonna go easy on me?”

Without missing a beat, Tech answers the question for her. “She will not.” He pulls a chair over to the table, knowing exactly what’s about to happen even if Omega denies the claim.

Three games later and both clones are sporting rather smug looks; Omega’s for pride in her strategizing skills, and Tech’s for being right in his claim. Not one to be a sore loser, you thank her as you stand from the table, “That was fun, but I think I’ll stick to the version I played back home. You wanna take over for me, Tech?”

“I wanna hear about your version!” Omega perks up, interested in a variation of her favorite game. You glance over to Tech, who hasn’t taken the now empty seat, his head just barely cocked to the side in question as he wordlessly awaits your explanation.

You stand, looking between them for a second before returning to your seat, a sigh slipping through your grin. With that, you dive straight into your description of the game, detail matching Omega’s earlier lesson. Both of them listen intently, asking questions that you happily answer. Tech glances down at his datapad every so often, you can’t seem to fight back a smile when you realize he’s been taking notes. Once you finish your explanation he sets it back down on the table while Omega looks at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to pull a full chess set out of thin air to give them both a demonstration.

“That sounds fun! Can we play?” Omega asks, eager to try her hand at a new strategy game.

“If we can find a set, I’d love to! But they’re pretty hard to come by outside of my planet.” You try to put on a hopeful smile, now regretting mentioning it in the first place as her own smile slowly fades. “I mean, technically you don’t need one,” this grabs both of their attention, “but it will be a little tougher.”

“You can play without the board? Or the pieces?” Omega asks, clearly skeptical as you said it was a board game. Tech, on the other hand, seems intrigued.

“Y’know how I said there’s a notation system?”

“Are you suggesting the game can be played verbally?” Tech reaches for his datapad; checking his notes, you figure.

“It’s possible! When the Empire showed up in my city and forced us out we didn’t have time to grab the fun stuff – mostly just, like, food and water.” You almost cringe a little, talking about your past isn’t really your forte. “We got bored, we played in our heads and called out our moves. It took some getting used to, but it’s still fun!”

“Fascinating.”

“You guys wanna give it a go?” Omega seems a little unsure but excited enough to jump into a practice round.

Despite her hesitation, Omega did surprisingly well. She even managed to beat you in the third game. And, unsurprisingly, Tech played like a natural, instantly picking up the game that took you months to master. You managed to beat him in your first game, but the next two were easy wins for him. If you were playing against your friends back home you might’ve gotten a little competitive, but the proud smile that crept onto your face after the first game has yet to fade. Later on, after the rest of the batch returned to the parlor, you sat back and listened to Tech and Omega’s gripping game – too enthralled to tell either of them that it will most likely end in a stalemate.

Hunter took a seat next to you at the bar, when his gaze shifts from Tech and Omega to you with a quirked brow you let out a quiet chuckle. “They’re playing chess.” He huffs, amused as the two of you watch their game in silence.

Soon, it becomes a favorite pastime among the three of you. Omega has tried to get her other brothers to join in to no avail, none of them seem to enjoy it nearly as much as the three of you. After a little digging, Tech finds a slew of archived games from your home planet and studies them intently. Whenever you find yourselves on a supply run off-world, you and Tech volunteer yourselves every time to search for a real set. What started off as a wild porg chase turns into a sort of tradition and, strangely enough, you find yourself looking forward to supply runs.

You’re counting ration bars and bandages after a too-long mission for Cid, most of your stock depleted, while Omega takes another study break to play a few rounds of chess with you. Hunter makes the call to stop on Boonta to refuel and restock, knowing the second you return to Ord Mantell you’ll be sent off on another mission. This time, when the Marauder touches down in a dingy space port, no one bothers asking who will be heading to the market.

Omega hums in thought, absently fiddling with her datapad as you wait for her next, and most likely last, move. She’s got you cornered, your only possible escape is Kb7 but she’s still got her Queen, and you’re out of pawns to promote. Her eyes light up. “Rook to b3! Checkmate!”

“I forgot about the rook!” You laugh, impressed at how she’s improved. “Good game, Omega, that’s four wins in a row!”

“It’s all about the strategy.” She beams triumphantly.

“Yeah? How about you strategize some homework,” you laugh, standing to leave, “then maybe we can play on a real board later.”

The girl’s laughs are suddenly interrupted by Wrecker’s booming voice calling your name from the cockpit, followed by a loud, “Your boyfriend’s waiting!” You just roll your eyes, Omega tries to suppress a giggle as she puts on her best studious face, her eyes locked on her datapad.

When you pass him on your way out, a barely noticeable blush on your cheeks, Wrecker lets out a barking laugh. You shoot him a look, but this only draws another laugh from the gentle giant. “Keep that up and I’ll make sure to stock up on those blue ration bars you hate.” That does the trick. Letting out a victorious laugh of your own at his silence, you make your way down the ramp where Tech patiently waits. “Ready?”

He clears his throat quietly, storing his datapad before he begins leading the way to the market. “After you.”

“Oh, how kind of you. E4.” You laugh, you two always tend to walk a little slower on supply runs.

“I assumed you would like the advantage after losing our last match.” Tech simply states, his impartial facade cracking when you shoot him an incredulous look. “E6.” His smile is barely visible, but you manage to catch a glimpse before he fixes his gaze on the path ahead. The two of you focused on the game as you navigate the city streets.

“Rook to B5.” You’re about to reach the forty-eighth move of the game with no clear end in sight as you approach the bustling market. “Did you wanna split up? I have to grab rations and stuff for the medkits.”

“Rook to A8.” He pauses for a moment. “I will accompany you.”

“Cool. Rook to D2.” You glance around the market, hiding your grin. You spot a vendor selling rations by the crate, buying wholesale might save you all some trouble. “Let’s check that stall first.”

“Very well. H6.”

You make your way through the crowd, now quickly calling your moves back and forth. Barely ten feet from the stall, you realize stocking up on rations would mean fewer supply runs and your mind starts to race. Suddenly, your pace is even slower than before and you’re losing focus on your mental image of the match. When you make an obviously thoughtless move, losing your knight, Tech stops in his tracks, turning to face you. “Are you alright? That was a terrible move.”

“Huh?” All of your focus has been diverted to quickly concocting an excuse that the genius would find believable. You can’t bring yourself to look away from the vendor’s stall. “Oh, yeah. They- uh, it looks like they only have the blue ones. You guys hate the blue ones, right?”

Tech’s brows furrow behind his yellow-tinted lenses. Maybe he didn’t buy the excuse but it certainly confused him. “I have no preference, nor do the others to my knowledge. Wrecker doesn’t like them, but he will manage.” You can feel his eyes on you, studying you, and you wished he would look literally anywhere else. “You’ve mentioned preferring them, however.”

“Let’s just look around a little more, maybe we can find someplace with more variety.” You turn to walk further into the market but he catches your wrist, his grip is loose but it brings you to a halt.

“Would I be correct in my presumption that you are attempting to under-stock our supplies to continue our regular supply runs?” You’re glad you haven’t turned to face him, your eyes are wide and your cheeks flushed, and he’s still holding onto your wrist as if you’d run away if he let go. You can’t think of anything to say, clearly you’re not great at excuses so you just stand there hoping he’ll just drop it.

You let out a heavy sigh, turning around to just barely face him, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, Tech. Sorry. I just…” You trail off, maybe now he might let it be, you’ll grab the crate of blue ration bars and be on your way.

“You don’t need to apologize.” His tone softens, you’ve never heard him sound so gentle. Your cheeks feel like they’re burning and he’s still holding onto you. “If we are unable to find a chess set today, I’m positive I can make one to your standards.”

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until it came out in a choked laugh. The chess set. Right. You make a mental note to not let Wrecker’s teasing get to your head. Cheeks slowly reverting to a normal temperature, you finally turn to face him with a bashful smile and the concern in his eyes begins to dissipate. “Thanks, Tech. That’d be nice.”

He returns your smile. “I will need your input, of course.” His gaze falls a bit and you see a flash of panic in his eyes before he quickly releases his grip on your wrist. Quickly bringing that same hand up to adjust his goggles, he clears his throat, now looking at anything but you. “G5.”

Your head drops with a laugh, nudging him with an elbow as you start towards the stall. “C’mon, let’s go buy a month's supply of ration bars Wrecker will hate.” As the tension fades from your body you find yourself able to focus on the game again. “Oh, and thanks for the pawn. Rook to H6.”

You were right, wholesale is way cheaper. Much heavier, too. After you find a med supply stall that’s somewhat reasonably priced, Tech offers to take the crate and you hand it over with almost no objection.

“Would you still like to look around for a chess set?” Tech asks, lowering the crate a bit so you can rest your pack on top while you fill it with rolls of bandages and tubes of bacta.

You pause, your hands resting atop the pack that rests atop the crate in Tech’s arms; your brows furrowed in thought, you absently chew on your lip as you consider his question. You look up to find him watching you intently, and, rather than avert your gaze from his, you smile and shake your head. “Nah, I think I’d like one you make much better.”

He opens his mouth as if to say something but seems to decide against it, simply responding with an equally warm smile.

You return your attention to your pack, making sure it’s shut securely before swinging it over an arm as Tech readjusts his grip on the crate. Letting out a content sigh, you both begin making your way out of the market. “Your turn.”

“Ah, yes.” He thinks for a moment, it’s anyone's game now since you came back from your earlier blunder. Waiting until you’ve left the crowded area, he calls his move. “King to F7.”

“Running away from me?” You joke, unable to suppress a giggle when Tech looks at you with mock exasperation. “What? Queen to B7.” He instantly realizes what that move means, but you can’t help but give him a deviously smug smile. “Check.”

“Interesting.” He ponders his next move, absently attempting to adjust his goggles only to realize he’s still holding the crate. You watch on as he shifts it around, trying to balance it enough to free his right hand momentarily.

“Okay, okay, hold on, just… look at me.” You place a hand on his fidgeting arm, all movement coming to a stop. You stand on your tiptoes, reaching up to gently slide his goggles back into place, careful not to touch the lenses. Your breath catches when you make sure you didn’t accidentally leave behind any fingerprints and finally see the intensity in his eyes. He’s completely still, as if he would scare you away with any sudden movement. You can’t help but freeze as well, hands still gently resting on the frame of his goggles. When you wobble a bit on unsteady tiptoes, your fingertips just barely graze his cheekbones and his lips part in a silent gasp and, oh god, now you’re looking at his lips. Eyes, look at his eyes, that’ll help, you think, so you look back to his eyes and catch them flicking back up from your lips, or maybe the ground, maybe he’s just really into dirt these days, and now you’re starting to get dizzy. You retreat rather abruptly, your heels meeting the ground with a quiet thud, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other on his forearm to keep from falling over. After overthinking some more, both hands come to rest unnaturally at your side, wide eyes trying to focus on anything that isn’t him but ultimately failing. His gaze hasn’t left you, his expression unchanged. Deciding you should say anything, literally any words to break this tension that you created, you clear your throat and give a shaky, “Any better?”

He just stares for a moment. You’ve never seen him this flustered – or flustered at all – and now you’re really about to panic, your mind playing a loop of oh maker, I broke Tech. You’re about to release a minimum of one hundred apologies when it seems he’s finally returned to his body. “King to G8.” As if nothing happened. As if he can still win after such a pitiful move.

“Oh, Tech, I’m so sorry.” You look up at him, guilt dripping from your words.

He shakes his head, readjusting the crate one last time before finally just setting it on the ground for a moment. “No need to apologize, I have been wondering for some time if my feelings were reciprocated.” When your eyes widen in shock, he decides to clarify. “Romantic feelings. Towards you.”

“No yeah, I got that.” You shake your head, a pleasantly confused smile somewhat replacing the shock on your face.

“You appear to be confused, is my conclusion incorrect?” Now it’s his turn to internally panic, second-guessing himself for what appears to be the first time.

He looks confused when you let out a short, nervous laugh. “No, you’re correct. Romantic feelings are very much reciprocated.” You take a tiny step closer, leaving little room between the two of you, returning to your tiptoes. Tech, ever the genius, takes the hint; first bringing a hand to your waist to steady you before closing the distance, your lips meeting in a sweet kiss as he brings a tentative hand up to gently cup your cheek.

When you finally part, returning to ground level once again though still in his embrace, he cocks his head to the side. “May I ask, then, why did you apologize?”

You laugh, your forehead bumping the chest plate of his armor before once again meeting his gaze. “Rook to C8.” You reach up for the shortest, sweetest peck of a kiss. “Checkmate.”

A/N pt.2: If that wasn't the cheesiest thing I've ever written, I don't know what is - Alexa, play Yuck! by Charli XCX. This was so fun to write! Thank you so much for reading! <3

#Now to figure out how to explain to my coworkers why I’m just so giddy today! 😅

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like-a-bantha · 2 months

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Thank you so, so much!! It took me a bit to really get his characterization down, I’m happy to hear it paid off! 🥰