01

Will didn't like people, or perhaps it would have been more accurate to suggest that people didn't like Will, and he was fine with that. He wasn't lonely and didn't ache for the companionship of others as was typical of most people. He had a pack of strays living in the back ally of his apartment to stave off that bit of insanity, the food he left them each day earning him their unconditional love.

Thanks to a cocktail of neurosis that allowed him to see all too much of the people he socialized with, reading those he met like an open book of information he didn't want to know, Will was labeled a freak for his unsettling insight and the quirky habits he used to cope with his intuitive nature and crippling empathy. At some point reaching the silent but mutual agreement between himself and the general public that solitude would suit Will best.

He was quiet, intelligent and for the most part kept to himself. The only contradiction to his near consuming isolation being his job, Will worked the tables of a Baltimore café called Ullr. Aptly named after the Norse god of the hunt and games, the café was known for its variety of game meat panini's, dark espressos and a collection of polished stone tables that filled the shop both inside and out. Each table was topped with a stone slab stained, carved and polished into either a Go, Backgammon or Chess board, all the pieces for which available to patrons through their server with the order of a beverage.

At Some point the small café had become rather haute thanks to a growing popularity among the Baltimore elite, a quasiessential for the food connoisseur. Will had been among the first hired for the small shop, a friend of his father's opening the place and offering Will financial security as an old favor to his war buddy. It allowed him to work in a social atmosphere without too much fear of being fired, it had also only had the small clientele expected of new shops that allowed Will to pay his rent with minimal social interaction and comfort until a foodie with a blog and too much time on her hands turned it into the next biggest trend.

Once the foot traffic tripled, her column bringing socialites into the shop in small well-dressed droves, Will found he was no longer able to avoid that eye contact that unsettled him as easily as he once had before without a lasting effect on his tips and was forced to adapt, the somber young man acquiring a pair of thick rimmed glasses to wear low on his nose and effectively cut the customer in half, allowing him to stare at the frames instead of the patron.

With one obstacle gone the others seemed to fall into place, a soft smile pulling lips into something fake though more appealing and the half-hearted small talk needed to push socialites toward making an order coming to Will with relative ease.

Working at the small café Will didn't have the most money in the world and after growing up poor wasn't truly bothered by such things, so long as he had a roof over his head and enough food in his belly to stave off hunger Will counted himself as cared for and spent the remainder of his paycheck on kebble and shots for the strays out back. It had been that way for the last two years making life, as far as Will was concerned, repetitive and dull.

Until the day Frederic Chilton, one of the café's more pompous regulars, brought one of his esteemed colleagues, out for lunch. He chatted with the polite though obviously uninterested man and lost two rounds of Go before leaving together.

Though the man never returned for lunch with the ever infamous doctor Chilton he did begin coming to the café on a regular basis in the mornings for espresso and breakfast, or coffee and a panini to go.

If Will had to guess, given who he'd initially come with, he would have said the man was a doctor. Always sitting strait as was dictated by good etiquette with surgeon steady hands and refined in a way that spoke of a lifestyle bedecked with old and new money. The man always appeared content when he sat alone at one of the café's polished tables, a game of chess or Go laid out before him to play against himself, as though his own mind would be the only true challenge in all of Baltimore. It was quirky enough when paired with the man's atrocious sense of style, bold colored plaid and paisley, that the man caught and held Will's usually socially avoiding attention, the waiter often catching himself to quietly studying the man as he worked the floor and cleared tables on the days that this doctor came by.

Will often wondered if perhaps the stranger was as bored as he was, watching the man as much as he watched the games he played in solitude, the elegant movement of stones or pawns from square to square, his keen mind often ending the game several turns early as he already knew it's conclusion and no longer wished to continue that which ending was already wrote.

Clearing away tables Will expected to see the same that morning as well, the stranger working the white king into checkmate with a still, almost bored expression on his handsome face. Will could read it in the man's dark eyes as easily as if he had made the complaint aloud, his silent voice proclaiming that no possible moves remained that could save the white king from his coming defeat.

Will wanted to ruin his conviction like a blood stain on fresh sheets.

In a brazen act as much unexpected by Will as it had been by the man, he took the white rook in passing and slid the piece across the board to take the doctor's queen.

The heat of eyes caressed his back as he walked to clear another table; loading his trey with discarded cups and plates as at last he gained the full attention of the man who had held his for nearly three months. A small smile pulled his lips as he turned around to once again pass the man who sat alone, storm colored eyes glancing at the board to reveal the absence of the queen from play and a black bishop shifted to counter Will's rook.

Taking another piece in hand, a knight this time, he put the man's king into check.

It was the first time he'd seen a smile pull the stoic man's bowed lips and it made Will's stomach do a flip to know he'd been its cause, at last a reprieve from the boredom that haunted them both.

It was also the first time he'd been tipped a fifty for serving espresso and a panini.

After that things became more interesting. The man whose name Will still did not know began showing up every day for breakfast to set the table for chess or Go, always taking the black and always waiting for Will to make the first move.

It wasn't until the third week that Will finally got the message.

The following day when the stranger arrived at his usual time for breakfast, following the pattern of Wills schedule with uncanny accuracy it was to the unexpected surprise of his favored waiter taking the day off. The man walking outside to his favored table on the patio to discover Will already seated with board set and an espresso sitting at his opposite, on the board a white pawn sat two spaces ahead, the first move taken.

Will sipped his coffee, eyes fixed on the board as the man he had spent the last three weeks playing against took the opposing seat. "What happens after I make the first move?" Will asked, names still ungiven between them as he watched a black piece move across the board to match his own.

A curious tilt, the raise of an ashen brow and the barest pull of lips as the man first scents and then sipped the espresso provided, a low hum of approval Will's only answer for a short second before a pair of strange maroon eyes turned to find his own, a shade of brown he had never seen before and doubted he will ever see again. "I believe the goal is to move the other into checkmate."

"I don't suppose you mean that literally," Will took his pawn, "Do I get your name?"

Another thoughtful hum, the slide of a bishop and Will was short a knight. "Perhaps, do you suppose you can beat me?"

Will smiled bemused, "Are we still talking about chess?"

"We never were." He leaned back, leaving Will to examine the board and the check mate played out for him there.

His dark brows furrowed, stormy eyes searching for the move which had been misplayed. Another smile, another misstep, "How long have you been playing me?" He re-set the board, thinking back to his first win and how many others he had stolen since; How many rounds the man had thrown to draw Will to him like a moth to the flame.

"Since you claimed my queen," he smiled, that minute expression of barely shifting lips, so easy to miss if one weren't looking for it as Will was. He sipped his espresso with nothing short of devious mirth dancing in sharp eyes and made a polite demand, "May I have my prize now?"

Will nearly laughed, once again moving his pawn as he tried to recall the four move checkmates he'd once learned in high school. "Will Graham."

"Will," He said it as though tasting it, a fine wine sliding over his tongue or the shift of silk over skin. "Not William?"

"No," He frowned as another pawn was stolen, "William makes me feel as though I'm being reprimanded."

Another curious smile, as though he had learned something interesting. "Can you think of a more fitting prize?" His amusement spread, creasing the corners of his eyes as Will's hand stilled over his rook, the younger man realizing belated that he had once again been cornered into checkmate.

"I suppose I can't refuse." He leaned back, chewing his lip as he considered the board being reset. "I want a gift then."

The man stilled, dark eyes turning up to meet with Will's, or at least look at them, Will's own were staring over his shoulder, no intention of making proper eye contact with his opponent, "A gift? Is this a demand or request?"

"Whatever it has to be," Will answered plainly, "Give me your name. I need to call you something."

Amused wasn't the right word, not for the kind of dark humor playing through those eyes. "A name?" Another hum , the man considering the offer before countering with his own, "No, not a name. That will be earned, allow me to propose something better instead."

"I'd rather have your name." Will admitted, but didn't' refuse.

A finger touched his own as he moved to shift a pawn, directing him to take a knight instead, it had Will wondering exactly how poorly he had been playing against this stranger for the last three weeks while walking around feeling smug at having presented the man a challenge. He'd been nothing more than an amusement, "Dinner."

"Dinner?" Will had been expecting a request for Backgammon or Go to give him perhaps a better chance at honestly winning the strangers name, not an invitation.

Again a hand directed Will to take another piece than he'd intended. "I will cook for you this evening and you will earn my name."

Will didn't take the queen as instructed, instead moving a rook. "I don't know your name and you want me to come over for dinner?"

He lost his rook and three turns later, the game. "You're bored William," Will felt the slid of a foot along his calf, enough of the cards revealed to let him know certain expectations should invitation be accepted, "Allow me to alleviate that boredom."

Will looked at the chess board, "Is that your third prize?"

The man checked his watch, laying a few bills on the table, beneath the king, before coming around to capture Will's chin in the curl of strong fingers, tilting his face towards his own and forcing stormy eyes to find sanguine. "The dinner is a gift," he captured Will's lips with a firm but gentle press, drinking in the stillness of his surprise before pulling away to lick at where flesh had only touched, as though he were cleaning away the flavors of Will with the sweep of his tongue. "I'll see you tonight, seven sharp."

He left Will with a folded piece of paper he had to wonder how long the man had been carrying for such an opportunity to arise and a notable folded twenty under the king. The man was paying for breakfast as well.

OoOoO

What did one bring to dinner when visiting a stranger? Social grace and etiquette tended to escape Will on a fairly normal day, given the circumstances of their rather peculiar relationship Will was at a total loss. As such, he spent twenty dollars on a bottle of wine and was more than a little tempted to turn around, climb back into his old Volvo and drive away instead of meeting the man for dinner.

The house was massive, telling more truths behind Will's earlier assumption of money than he would have liked confirmed. It was making the young man very self-aware of the old and oversized polyester shirt and khakis he had thought to wear, feeling very out of place in the wealthy neighborhood as he fought the nervous urge to run.

But he still didn't have a name and this was the most interesting thing to happen to Will in so long it had the generally inverted man knocking twice before he could think better of it and lose his nerve.

The doors opened to reveal the man he had come to know through table service dressed down in slacks, a button down and apron. "Will, so glad you could make it. Please, come in." he stepped to the side, allowing the younger man to enter before closing the door. It felt more like he'd closed a cage.

"Thank you for having me." He murmured his reply, allowing the assumed doctor to slide the jacket from his shoulders to hang before accepting the gifted bottle.

"It's my pleasure." The man examined the bottle and Will walked farther into the grand house, not wishing to see any signs of either disappointment or pleasure that might play through the stranger. He would feel them too sharply, like the blade of a knife under his skin. Despite his best efforts he would not be able to hide his disappointment from Will and in turn Will would feel it lingering under his skin for the remainder of the evening, for Will it was just better to walk away and leave him to discern for himself whether he was pleased with the presented gift or not.

Fleeting glances danced around the lavish room, compelling Will to clasp his hands behind his back with the ingrained nature of a man who had been scolded to keep his hands to himself as a child, a subconscious intimidation of the lavish room and all its expensive and fragile possessions.

"This is a lovely wine," the man complimented, far closer to Will than he had expected, he hadn't heard him move, but there was a warm breath ghosting over his ear and the hand that settled on the small of his back, guiding Will deeper into the lion's den and around a corner into the dining room. Though oddly the large table laid completely bare save for the Chess board that set in its middle. "We will enjoy sipping this later tonight."

Will's brow furrowed as he took in the dining arrangement, or lack thereof, stormy eyes peeking over the edge of glasses rims to see if perhaps there were a joke behind this that he had missed, but for all the secrets laying locked beneath the man's mask the answer to that remained hidden. "I don't understand. I thought you invited me to dinner, why are we playing chess? Do I have to earn my meal too?"

"In a sense," He urged Will to sit, disappearing into the kitchen with bottle in hand. If Will leaned he could see the strong line of shoulders and back working as the man corked the wine and poured its rich liquid into a decanter for later consumption.

"Am I playing for answers?" Will snipped, moving a pawn as the man checked something before removing his apron to redress in a waist coat before joining Will at the table.

That look was back, the one he'd seen when he'd felt the slide of a foot along his calf, a carnal shift in the strangers dark eyes. "You will earn my name as previously agreed." He moved a pawn of his own, "Dinner will be your gift to receive once I deem it so," Will moved another in turn, "And the game will be used to decide your conditions for the evening." He took Will's pawn. "Each piece captured will earn you a restraint; each piece reclaimed will free you of it."

Will watched his pawn disappear to the side of the table. "Would it be safe for me to assume these conditions will hold sexual undertones?" He moved another pawn, capturing that of the man's to place to the side next to his own.

"They will," he conceded, waiting for Will's consent before the game continued.

Will looked at the pawn sitting lost to the side and the man who had stolen it across from him. He was older than Will by nearly a decade, lines of silver streaking his ashen hair and the telltale signs of age defining his dark eyes. But he was beautiful with high cheekbones, thin lips and eyes the strange blend of blood and earth that looked as though they would consume Will if he let them, suck him dry and swallow him whole. It made his cock twitch and the piece of him that had been board with the monotony of life stand to attention, interest spiked and stimulation needed, craved. This man was waking things in Will he wasn't sure how to turn off again. "Do I get to lay the same conditions?"

A smug smile pulled the man's lips into an alluring bow. "You can try." He touched another pawn moving it forward to tempt Will's rook.

He took the bait, too curious to see what might come next should he play. "What do the pawns represent?"

"The number of hours for which you will be mine," The words were laced with hunger; one Will knew had nothing to do with food and everything to do with flesh.

He turned his eyes to the dismissed pawns, "I have two to your one. What does that earn me? Does that earn me an hour of freedom or an hour in which you would be mine?"

"It will earn you an hour of freedom William and taking the king will determine who owns whom." He took the bated rook, touching the piece to his lips before setting it aside with the rest, watching Will's inquisitive look at the newly claimed piece.

"Owns? Like a slave?" His stomach flipped, a grip of fear twisting through him even as his cock swelled.

Amused the man reached under his chair, placing a long thin box before Will who looked at it dubiously before lifting its lid. The tooled leather collar slid everything into perspective, a polished silver ring standing out from its center and sliding lock with key hole on its back.

He pulled a small silver key from his pocket, Will's heart stop. "Yes."