Night's Gambit: a Code of Desire

Copyright © [2025] [SinFantasy]. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or reused, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical.

All persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

While I have diligently edited this story, some errors may persist.

This story is an entry for the "

Geek Pride Story Event 2025.

"

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CODE OF DESIRE

Emily, Jake, and Sarah burst into my mind as a trio of misfits who'd fight the world to be themselves. They're my love letter to every geek who's felt out of place, every heart that's stumbled into unconventional love. Dive in, cheer their messy triumphs, and maybe see a bit of yourself in them!

This is a contemporary romance with healthy amount of erotica sprinkled for spice. Expect a slow burn. Their love simmers through chess codes and awkward glances before hitting the steamy bits, so savor the build!

By Sinfantasy

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Chapter 1: My Knight

Emily

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I saw him striding toward me, carrying on with an easy confidence. He covered the distance in long strides. His strong arms pinned me against the library stacks and he was all over me in a moment.

'Oh, God, his touch is searing my skin... and all those muscles... Ummm.'

His lips crashed against mine in a hungry, unraveling kiss. My breath hitched as he took control and claimed my lips. My glasses fogged and my knees buckled. My fingers tangled in his blonde hair as I responded to his fire. I pulled him closer, deeper into a fantasy of our intertwined hearts. A dizzying warmth spread through me, a perfect, impossible dream.

"Yo, Em, are you in there?" Jake's voice cut through my daydream like a debugger catching a null pointer error.

My eyes snapped open. The fluorescent hum of the library replaced the roar in my ears. Suddenly, I was aware of the world around me. Whispers of gossip, the clack of keyboards, and the musty scent of old books.

This wasn't the backdrop of a romance novel. This was the library, my den. Jake, my best friend since middle school sat across from me. His crooked grin was far too charming, was perfectly framed by a stray lock of hair curling over his forehead. We spent half our college lives hunched over laptops and books here, immersed in coding and banter.

'Great job, Emily, fantasizing about kissing him in broad daylight.'

I shoved my spectacles up my nose, hoping my blush didn't betray my thoughts.

My name is Emily, and I'm nineteen, a computer science major and a textbook nerd--complete with a messy bun and an oversized hoodie. Most people see my glasses and label me a "harmless geek," but I'm a coder, a puzzle-solver, and a professional daydreamer. My biggest glitch? I'm in love with Jake, my best friend.

We bonded in middle school over logic puzzles and pixelated video game quests. I dove headfirst into the digital world, and Jake followed with his unwavering loyalty. I still remember eighth grade when Tommy Reed stole my glasses and mocked me in front of the class. Jake didn't hesitate--he punched Tommy in the nose, earning a week's detention.

My heart raced, and I wanted to blurt out, I love you. But fear froze my tongue. What if confessing cost me his friendship? That fear has shadowed me ever since, warning that one wrong move could crash our connection beyond repair.

Back then, I was the chubby, bespectacled kid every bully targeted, but Jake was my knight in scuffed sneakers. He shut down taunts with a glare or a shove. His friends barely tolerated me, but he always made me feel like I belonged.

Now, in college, we're closer than ever. We even share an apartment near campus. It's a practical arrangement our parents approved because they see us as "just friends." If only they knew my mind runs a 24/7 romantic comedy starring Jake.

Jake has caught my coding bug. He's lazy but willingly blends his linebacker swagger with a nerdy spark that makes my heart skip. Our latest project is a chess-based strategy game where players solve puzzles with pieces under unique constraints. My favorite is the knight-pawn puzzle, where a gallant knight protects a vulnerable pawn across a treacherous board.

'

It feels like us--Jake, my protector; me, a pawn dreaming of becoming a queen in his arms.

'

Across the library, I spotted Sarah, the head cheerleader. She was laughing with her squad. Her lustrous golden hair tossed back while she moved with the effortless grace of a seasoned performer. She was commanding the room. Her confidence made me feel small by comparison. She was trying to get close to Jake, recently. The thought twisted a knot in my stomach.

"Hey, Jake," I said. My voice was steadier than my racing pulse. Then his scent hit me--grass, sweat, and something distinctly Jake. A low hum started in my brain, a pure, instinctual response. I wrinkled my nose for effect.

"You reek," I said. "Have you ever heard of a shower after practice, caveman? It's in the best-friend contract."

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "My bad, Em," he said. "I forgot the deodorant clause." His eyes twinkled and I fought the urge to melt.

'Calm down. He's your awkward buddy. Not a romance novel hero.'

My braces are long gone, and my baby fat has reshaped into curves I mostly ignore. I could trade my hoodie for something fitted. Maybe tame my curls, or shed my "nerd" shield. A touch of makeup and womanly charms to woo him? But why risk it? Jake sees me as his platonic pal, not a leading lady. I'm comfortable in my code-and-coffee cocoon.

"Don't make me file a bug report," I teased, grabbing his arm as he half-rose from his chair. "Sit," I said. "We have code to wrangle." I tugged him back down, and our knees brushed under the table. His scent short-circuited my focus, and my fingers froze on the keyboard.

'Control yourself, Emily.'

"Sure thing, boss," he said. His grin flipping my stomach. "Are you still debugging the knight's moves?"

I nodded and adjusted my spectacles. "Yes, it's glitchy on edge cases," I said. "The knight keeps jumping off the board like it's drunk."

He leaned closer, his shoulder grazing mine. "I think I know why," he said. "The pathfinding algorithm isn't handling edge cases correctly--it tries to jump to coordinates outside the board." He gestured toward a GitHub page on his laptop. "There's an open-source library for knight paths," he said. "Why reinvent the wheel?"

I tried to focus on the code, not the way his eyes lit up like he'd cracked a secret or how his calloused hand brushed mine when he passed me a pen. He's the only jock on campus who'd rather debug code than chug beer.

We fell into sync, our fingers flying across keyboards, ideas bouncing like a perfect ping-pong rally. Moments like this made me believe we could be more. But confessing? That felt like pushing code to production without testing--a crash waiting to happen. His open-source fix worked like magic, streamlining the knight's logic. I high-fived him, our palms lingering, his warmth sending a spark through me.

"Nice one," I said, my voice barely steady. "We might actually finish before the Geek Pride Fair."

He stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of toned abs. My breath hitched.

'Error: Emily.exe has crashed.'

"Oh, by the way," he said. "I'll be late tonight. Sarah needs help with a charity photoshoot."

My stomach lurched. Sarah--gorgeous, popular, anti-Emily Sarah. She had been monopolizing Jake's time, her perfect smile glinting like a warning. Worse, when we were together, I caught her staring--not at Jake, but at me. Her gaze was sharp, like she was decoding something about me.

She had joined us for lunch in the cafeteria last week. I was rambling about our game and her lips curved as if she'd cracked a private joke. It wasn't flirty--it felt like she saw past my hoodie and right through my soul. Why was she interested in me? The memory made my skin prickle.

"Charity photoshoot?" I asked, aiming for casual but probably sounding like a panicked chipmunk. "What's that about?"

"It's for a kids' hospital calendar," he said with a shrug. "Sarah's stressed, so I said I'd pose for a few shots."

'Of course she's stressed, and you're her hero.'

I forced a smile. "That's sweet of you," I said.

'Is she playing the damsel to win him over?'

The thought stung, bitter and petty. Jake's kindness made him a magnet for people like Sarah. Her vibe screamed calculated.

"Yeah, it's a good cause," he said. Oblivious to my spiraling thoughts, as always. "She's been weirdly intense about it."

Intense like her staring at me? I nodded and pushed my spectacles up. "Cool," I said. "Just don't forget our code. Geek Pride waits for no one."

He grinned and stood. "Never, Em," he said, his gaze lingering on mine for a beat longer than usual. "I'm your knight, remember?"

His words hit like a critical strike, meant for our project but resonating in my heart.

'My knight. If only you meant it the way I do.'

He waved and headed out, his broad shoulders cutting through the library crowd.

I stared at my screen, the knight-pawn puzzle mocking me. The knight shields the pawn, but a pawn can become a queen if it reaches the right square.

Could I make that move with Jake? And why did Sarah's stare linger like a variable I couldn't define? Our board felt crowded, as if it needed more than a knight and pawn to win--perhaps a bishop. Someone to slice through the chaos diagonally, unexpected.

'Focus, Emily. You're coding, not writing fanfiction.'

Little did I know, that photoshoot was about to flip the entire board.

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Chapter 2: The Buffer

Jake

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The park buzzed with the chaos of the photography club's charity photoshoot. Cameras snapped, cheerleaders giggled, and my football teammates flexed as if auditioning for a superhero movie. The event, a calendar shoot for the children's hospital, was supposed to be a quick favor--a good cause with the football team and cheer squad posing together. Instead, it felt like I'd stumbled into a campus romantic comedy, miscast as the lead opposite Sarah, the head cheerleader. To make matters worse, her ex, Vance--our team captain--lurked by the stone fountain, his glare sharp enough to cut through the mist spraying my shirt.

Sarah's hand lingered on my arm, her touch warm through the damp fabric. Her green eyes locked onto mine as the photographer shouted, "Look natural!" Her gaze carried an intensity that felt like she was selling a story I hadn't read.

Then came the "candid" ice-cream shot. She leaned in close, her breath tickling my cheek. Her lips grazed mine in a fleeting kiss I couldn't dodge. She didn't back away. As the camera continued to click, she deepened the kiss. The photographer whistled. The crowd hooted and cheered us on. Vance's stare burned into my back. My stomach twisted. There was nothing candid about the moment. It was a planned spectacle. This isn't what I signed up for.

I caught a glimpse of Emily across the park. She'd stopped by to drop off my forgotten water bottle. Her oversized hoodie swallowed her frame. Her spectacles slipped down her nose as she waved awkwardly before disappearing into the crowd. Even in that shapeless outfit, she radiated a quiet, familiar light that tugged at my chest.

Sarah's gaze snapped toward her, lingering with a spark I couldn't decipher. What was that about? Last week, in the cafeteria, Sarah had grilled me about Emily's coding skills, her eyes tracking Em's messy bun like she was solving a puzzle. That memory set my nerves on edge. It wasn't just jealousy, but something deeper I couldn't name.

I'm not your typical jock. Football was just a shortcut to avoid extra electives, not a ticket to this soap opera. Emily had warned me about Sarah's drama, her voice sharp but warm as she tugged me back to our chess game code.

"Don't let her rope you into anything," she'd said, her eyes bright behind her spectacles.

For a shy coder, Em has a knack for reading people. Thinking of her made my chest ache. Last month, she stayed up until 3 a.m. debugging our game, her bun unraveling, her soft laugh filling the room as she teased my sloppy code. In that moment, I'd wanted to kiss her, her passion lighting up everything around us. But I froze. What if she laughed it off? Or worse, what if I ruined the best thing in my life?

"Smile, Jake!" the photographer barked.

Sarah pressed closer, her red nails brushing my jaw. "You're killing it," she purred, loud enough for Vance to hear.

My teammates whistled, and my face burned. Great, I'm a prop in her drama. My mind flickered, picturing Emily's mocking grin superimposed over Sarah's face, her glasses fogging as she teased my coding typos. God, I'm a mess.

Bella, Sarah's cheerleader roommate, waved from the sidelines. "Work it, Jake!" she called, her grin infectious. But her eyes flicked to Sarah with a protective edge, as if she sensed trouble brewing.

"You good?" Sarah asked, her voice dropping to an almost genuine tone.

"I'm thinking about the Geek Pride Fair," I said, dodging her question. "Em and I are working on our knight-pawn game."

"Oh, your chess thing with Emily?" Sarah's eyes lit up, too eager. "She's intense about that stuff, huh?" The way she said Em's name felt off. It was like she was savoring it.

The photographer waved us over for one last shot, the fountain glowing gold under string lights. "Wrap!" he called. I exhaled, ready to escape. But Sarah looped her arm through mine. "Food to celebrate?" she said, her voice dripping with charm.

I stopped and faced her. "Sarah, level with me. What's this about? I'm not your prop."

Her smile faltered. A hint of vulnerability crept into her expression. "Okay, fine. Can we talk? Somewhere quiet?"

I nodded while bracing myself for whatever was coming. Here comes the plot twist. We walked to a bench by the fountain. The park's noise faded into the background.

Sarah stared at the water, her usual confidence gone. "I'm figuring myself out," she said softly. "I like girls. Maybe guys too, I don't know." My brow furrowed. "I told Vance, and he lost it. We broke up, but he's not letting go." My stomach clenched. "Our families are close--his dad's a big donor to the school. Vance thinks he owns me."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Damn. That's heavy."

She gave a brittle laugh. "Yeah. He told his buddies I'm 'confused,' and now they're watching me, leaving creepy notes in my locker. I needed a shield. You're new on the team, not one of his cronies. You're... solid. Safe."

"So this shoot was a setup?" I asked, keeping my tone steady.

"Basically," she admitted, meeting my eyes. "I needed everyone to think we're together. Just to keep Vance at bay."

I rubbed the back of my neck, processing her words. It wasn't just her using me--it was that spark in her eyes when she looked at Emily. Was she interested in Em? The thought sent a jolt through me. I was part protective, part possessive over Emily's attention. Emily was everything I valued. Her sarcasm, her coffee-and-code scent, the way she fit against me on our couch. This situation could mess with her head.

"Why not just avoid him?" I asked. "Why the public stunt?"

"Vance doesn't hear 'no,'" she said, her voice tight. "His dad has influence, and he's used to getting his way. Social media, photos--it's the only language he understands."

I understood. Vance was a bully. My teammates had whispered about his temper and the girls he'd pressured. Helping Sarah felt like middle school, when I'd shielded Em from kids calling her "four-eyes." But this was riskier. Emily was my best friend, the girl I'd die to kiss. This fake-dating scheme could push her away--or maybe jolt her out of the friend zone. But Sarah's glances at Em nagged at me. Was she pulling us both into her orbit?

"Jake, I know it's a lot," Sarah said, her cool-girl mask gone. "Can you pretend to date me? Just a couple of months, until Vance backs off? I swear, no strings."

My mind spun. Saying yes felt right. Sarah was scared and I wasn't the type to abandon someone in trouble. But Emily... God, Em. Her teasing grin, the way she hums off-key when she codes. If she thought I was with Sarah, it could break us. Or maybe it would make her see me differently.

"If I do this," I said slowly, "what's the endgame? How does it end?"

She shrugged, looking lost. "I need time to figure out who I am without Vance hovering. We 'date,' post some pictures, then 'break up' when he's over it. Clean exit. And Jake..." She hesitated, her eyes flicking to mine. "I like you. You're a good guy. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate."

I sighed, my knight instincts kicking in. "Alright. I'll be your buffer. But no more stunts like that kiss. And... be straight with Emily. She's not part of this."

Her eyes widened. A faint flush colored her cheeks. "Got it," she said quickly, as if she knew I'd noticed her staring at Em.

The fountain gurgled, and the park grew quiet. Sarah's relief was palpable, but I felt like I'd moved a knight into enemy territory. This fake-dating deal could protect Sarah, maybe even nudge Emily closer--or it could crash everything. Our chess game flashed in my mind: the knight shielding the pawn, but a new piece on the board, like a bishop cutting diagonally. Sarah was that piece, and I wasn't sure I could guard both Em and this mess without losing the game.

"Thanks, Jake," Sarah said softly. "You're a real one."

"Yeah, well, let's hope I don't crash and burn," I muttered. My thoughts were on Emily and the storm I'd just walked into.

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Chapter 3: Blur of the Night

Emily

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I sprawled across our apartment couch, my laptop teetering on my stomach as the knight-pawn puzzle mocked me with its buggy code. Lazy Jake's GitHub fix had fallen short of my expectations, and I was running out of ideas to fix the knight moves. The Geek Pride Fair loomed closer.

I was stuck here debugging alone while Jake played calendar heartthrob with Sarah at the charity photoshoot. I pictured Miss Perfect Cheerleader batting her lashes under the park's string lights, her golden hair catching the glow, stealing his signature grin. My stomach twisted with jealousy. I shoved my glasses up my nose and glared at the screen, but the knight kept leaping off the board's edges, as useless as my scattered focus.

In our chess-based game, I saw myself as the pawn--teetering on the edge of danger. I dreamed of crossing the board to become a queen. Jake was my knight. He's always shielding me, but what if I made a bold move? What if there was another piece in the mix? A bishop cutting diagonally would change the game entirely. I scolded myself to focus.