Title: Best
Rating: PG nothing big
Warning/Pairing: Shouen-ai / athrunyzak
Summary: A chess game between two ZAFT affiliates gets out of hand
Disclaimer: no hell of an idea who owns this… Just that I don't…
Author's Notes: I felt really crappy while writing this… I just got home from the hospital yesterday from having surgery on Wednesday… I'm piled up to my eye balls in homework, yet I still got inspired to write this little drabble and it only took me around 20 minutes to write, so kudos to me, hope this is enjoyable, tis my first chance at the fandom and this happens to be my hidden OTP for the fandom (am athrunkira eccentricXD), so hope someone likes and reviews would really help me feel better :D

Best

"Checkmate."

The word rolled off the boy's tongue so easily. Smug Zala. Thinks he can best me at everything.

If only…

"I demand a rematch."

The familiar smirk that always appeared when he triumphed over me slipped onto his aristocratic features.

"I don't have time. Creuset wants me down at 600 to discuss tactics." Everything slides smoothly out of his mouth. Another instance in which he bested me. Having control over us. Having control over me.

"I demand a rematch." The words ground out, hard and rough.

"I can't Yzak, I'm busy." The azure haired boy pushed back on his chair and floated towards the door.

Anger thrummed through my pulse. My heart threatening to burst through my throat.

He thinks he's better. He thinks that he can tell me what to do. He thinks he can control me. He thinks he can say no. He thinks… he thinks…

My body is thrust from my chair; shooting though the space between us.

Only thoughts of pain. Plans to hurt. Plans to get something. Something that he can never take back once I gain it. Win it.

My fist is hurled at his face. He dodges it easily. His triumphant smirk dancing around his lips.

I try again. It's useless. I'm no better at this battle than I was in the one on the board… or in space… always better than me. Always winning. I'll win this time. Win.

I trust forward again, but instead of my fist flying forward, it's my whole upper half. He can't do anything to avoid it.

My hands land on his shoulders. I grip them tightly, hurling the rest of me into contact with him, and I do the only thing that I know will hurt him. I don't give him time to say no.

The lips that were just earlier in such an annoying smirk are surprisingly smooth.

Zala freezes.

This is my control.

I won.

He never said no.