First Mistakes - AO3

First Mistakes

by Anonymous

Summary: A chess game turns into chaos, but in the end, maybe that's the point. Or, Stephen accidentally makes a move as brilliant as it is unintentional. Featuring the Nimzowitsch Defense: Scandinavian Advance.

The rec room was dim, the kind of dim that made your brain go "cozy" but your eyes scream "squint harder." The furniture? A thrift store fever dream. There was a scuffed chessboard precariously balanced on a too-small table, and sitting across from it: STEPHEN, looking way too smug for someone whose strategy was best described as "vibes," and GHOST, whose tactical precision could cut glass. Off to the side, FISHMONGER leaned against the wall, arms crossed like she was judging their life choices. BEA had a mug of tea—probably spiked—and ANNA was just… knitting. Because of course she was.

STEPHEN: (bouncing a knight on the table like it owes him money) So, Ghosty-boy, you ready to taste defeat? Or are you gonna cry when I pull a queen’s gambit?
GHOST: (already moving a pawn) That’s not how a queen’s gambit works. But go ahead. Embarrass yourself.
FISH: He’s already embarrassing himself just by existing.
STEPHEN: (dramatic gasp) Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m a tactical genius. (places a pawn with all the elegance of a cat knocking over a glass) Your move, nerd.

The game continued. Ghost moved with the kind of precision that screamed "I’ve read too many chess books," while Stephen… well, Stephen made "moves." The wind outside howled, rattling the windows like they were trying to escape the sheer audacity happening on the board.

STEPHEN: (grinning wider) Yeah, well, call it whatever you want. I’m about to pull off the Nimzowitsch Defense: Scandinavian Advance.
GHOST: (pausing mid-move) The Scandinavian… what?
STEPHEN: You’ll see. (slaps a knight into place with the confidence of a man who has no idea what he’s doing) Boom. Game changer.

Ghost squinted at the board like it had personally offended him. "That… that’s not even a move," he muttered. "I don’t think it’s legal." But Stephen was grinning like he’d just solved chess itself.

STEPHEN: It’s legal in spirit.

By the end, Ghost’s pawns were an unstoppable wall of inevitability. Stephen’s pieces looked like they’d been arranged by a drunk toddler. But then…

STEPHEN: (dramatically squinting) Wait… if I do this… and you do that… isn’t that stalemate?
GHOST: (pausing, calculating) No. No, it can’t be… (realizing) Is it?
STEPHEN: (grinning like he’s just discovered fire) Oh, it is, mate. Tactical genius strikes again!

Bea burst out laughing into her tea. "I can’t believe it. You actually bumbled into a draw." Stephen leaned back, arms crossed triumphantly. "That’s the Nimzowitsch Defense, baby. Pure brilliance. Pure chaos. Pure me." Ghost, deadpan, replied, "Pure dumb luck."