Ficlet: Lost in Blue
Title: Lost in Blue
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Chris has a bad day. Zach makes it better.
Beta: eruberueth
Word Count: 1090
The cool air hit Chris as he stepped inside Zach’s house, leaving the heat of L.A. behind him. He dropped his keys on the table and walked through the living room, his steps heavy, his shoulders slumped.
Zach was sitting on the sofa, going over something with a highlighter, occasionally making notes in a small notepad. Chris watched for a moment before stepping over and sitting on the arm. He reached a hand out and rubbed the back of Zach’s neck.
Zach looked up immediately, putting the pens and papers down on the coffee table. “Hey,” he said, almost smiling until he saw Chris’ face. “Bad day?”
Chris didn’t answer, just bent low and pressed his mouth to Zach’s in a desperate, pleading little kiss as he gripped Zach’s collar.
Zach moaned a little, holding onto Chris’ arms as he managed to get to his feet without breaking the kiss. He tried to draw back but Chris held tight, not allowing Zach to move away. He stood and pushed Zach back towards the bedroom, working on Zach’s belt, fingers quickly undoing the buttons of the other man’s shirt, dropping his glasses on the coffee table.
Chris had them both naked in the space of a few heartbeats and pulled Zach down so that they crashed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Chris touched Zach like he was starved for contact, like it had been weeks or months and not hours since they’d been together.
Fingers moved over his body, measured and tender. Chris breathed out and dug his nails into Zach’s arms and spread his legs and wanted Zach to just have him, to just fuck him right now. But Zach was having none of it. His mouth was light against Chris’, his hands only caressing, gentle, loving.
Chris whimpered in protest when Zach pushed a slick finger inside his body but Zach didn’t stop. His touch was insistent, firm, as he worked Chris open, as his fingers scissored and curled inside Chris. Chris sighed and gave in. Gave in to Zach’s mouth, to his hands, to his careful caresses.
When Zach was at last inside him, when Chris felt the velvet burn of Zach buried to the hilt, only then did Chris say his name, only then did Chris finally start to breathe, air filling his lungs as if he’d been drowning and was now saved.
It was the way Zach’s hips moved, the way his fingers cradled Chris’ face. It was the slow slide of skin against skin. The warm, wet heat of Zach’s mouth, the taste of Zach on his tongue. The hard thrum of Zach’s heart matching the wild beating of his own. And lastly it was Zach’s voice, soft in his ear, telling Chris that this was where he belonged. That this was all that mattered. That this was all he needed in the whole wide world.
Chris whispered, “yes.” Yes, he belonged here. Yes, this was all that mattered. Yes, this was all he needed in the whole wide world. And yes, yes, yes. Chanted like holy words, like a promise, like a plea as the galaxy whirled in Chris’ mind, as need and want coalesced in a bright burst of gold and silver, shimmering and twisting and becoming one only to shatter into tiny shards of bliss and light.
Zach rammed his hips and hissed Chris’ name and did it again and again in a rhythm that was quickly unraveling. Chris felt the quakes that shook Zach, muscles tight like knotted ropes as he smoothed his fingers down Zach’s sweat slicked back and arched and urged Zach to take what he needed, what he wanted, to let Zach know he could have it all. And take Zach did, mouth hard against Chris’, lips bruising and wild.
A moan, harsh and raw, fell from Zach’s lips as warmth spilled through Chris, as tremors reverberated through them both. Zach stayed in place, sprawled out over Chris with Chris’ thighs pressed against him after his legs slid down from where they were wrapped around Zach’s waist. Zach’s fingers were strong, steady as they caressed Chris’ sides, one finally coming to rest against his hip.
Chris felt Zach’s lips kiss against his throat, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. He drew in a deep breath and let it rattle out of him, his eyes opening and his vision blurry without his contacts. But he saw everything he needed to see. The soft smile the ticked the corners of Zach’s mouth up and the deep brown of his eyes and all the affection they held. Chris’s mouth curled in a private, intimate smile.
“Hey,” Chris said, speaking the first words since he’d walked into Zach’s house.
“He speaks,” Zach smiled, thumb swiping against the corner of Chris’ mouth.
“I had nothing good to say when I came through the door,” he said.
“How about now?” Zach said, rasping the words against Chris’ lips.
“Now I’m here in our room. Now what happened outside those doors doesn’t seem to matter quite so much,” Chris said.
Zach lifted his eyebrows. “Tell me what happened today.”
Chris shook his head. “I don’t want to spend my time complaining about shit. I feel like an asshole for not dealing better with things. I wanted to hit one of those guys with the cameras today. He thanked me for being cool and I almost punched him.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Zach said. “It takes time.”
Chris nodded. “That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he said.
“It’s true,” Zach said. “And in the meantime we have this room. We have each other.”
Chris swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “You’re the only thing that I can’t stand to lose.”
“You won’t. Just don’t go very far, Chris. Stay here. Stay with me,” Zach said, mouth soft and sweet against Chris’.
“I won’t go anywhere. This is where I belong,” Chris said.
“Yes, yes it is,” Zach said, rolling his hips, making Chris moan. “Talk to me now. I want to hear your voice; I want to know everything that happened today, everything in your head.”
Chris whimpered and arched and squeezed around Zach, feeling him grow hard inside him, gripping the other man’s arms and starting to talk, to let the day pour out of him, to let Zach know that he would never go very far, that he would always come back here, to this room, to this bed and to his arms.
~fin~
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Chris has a bad day. Zach makes it better.
Beta: eruberueth
Word Count: 1090
The cool air hit Chris as he stepped inside Zach’s house, leaving the heat of L.A. behind him. He dropped his keys on the table and walked through the living room, his steps heavy, his shoulders slumped.
Zach was sitting on the sofa, going over something with a highlighter, occasionally making notes in a small notepad. Chris watched for a moment before stepping over and sitting on the arm. He reached a hand out and rubbed the back of Zach’s neck.
Zach looked up immediately, putting the pens and papers down on the coffee table. “Hey,” he said, almost smiling until he saw Chris’ face. “Bad day?”
Chris didn’t answer, just bent low and pressed his mouth to Zach’s in a desperate, pleading little kiss as he gripped Zach’s collar.
Zach moaned a little, holding onto Chris’ arms as he managed to get to his feet without breaking the kiss. He tried to draw back but Chris held tight, not allowing Zach to move away. He stood and pushed Zach back towards the bedroom, working on Zach’s belt, fingers quickly undoing the buttons of the other man’s shirt, dropping his glasses on the coffee table.
Chris had them both naked in the space of a few heartbeats and pulled Zach down so that they crashed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Chris touched Zach like he was starved for contact, like it had been weeks or months and not hours since they’d been together.
Fingers moved over his body, measured and tender. Chris breathed out and dug his nails into Zach’s arms and spread his legs and wanted Zach to just have him, to just fuck him right now. But Zach was having none of it. His mouth was light against Chris’, his hands only caressing, gentle, loving.
Chris whimpered in protest when Zach pushed a slick finger inside his body but Zach didn’t stop. His touch was insistent, firm, as he worked Chris open, as his fingers scissored and curled inside Chris. Chris sighed and gave in. Gave in to Zach’s mouth, to his hands, to his careful caresses.
When Zach was at last inside him, when Chris felt the velvet burn of Zach buried to the hilt, only then did Chris say his name, only then did Chris finally start to breathe, air filling his lungs as if he’d been drowning and was now saved.
It was the way Zach’s hips moved, the way his fingers cradled Chris’ face. It was the slow slide of skin against skin. The warm, wet heat of Zach’s mouth, the taste of Zach on his tongue. The hard thrum of Zach’s heart matching the wild beating of his own. And lastly it was Zach’s voice, soft in his ear, telling Chris that this was where he belonged. That this was all that mattered. That this was all he needed in the whole wide world.
Chris whispered, “yes.” Yes, he belonged here. Yes, this was all that mattered. Yes, this was all he needed in the whole wide world. And yes, yes, yes. Chanted like holy words, like a promise, like a plea as the galaxy whirled in Chris’ mind, as need and want coalesced in a bright burst of gold and silver, shimmering and twisting and becoming one only to shatter into tiny shards of bliss and light.
Zach rammed his hips and hissed Chris’ name and did it again and again in a rhythm that was quickly unraveling. Chris felt the quakes that shook Zach, muscles tight like knotted ropes as he smoothed his fingers down Zach’s sweat slicked back and arched and urged Zach to take what he needed, what he wanted, to let Zach know he could have it all. And take Zach did, mouth hard against Chris’, lips bruising and wild.
A moan, harsh and raw, fell from Zach’s lips as warmth spilled through Chris, as tremors reverberated through them both. Zach stayed in place, sprawled out over Chris with Chris’ thighs pressed against him after his legs slid down from where they were wrapped around Zach’s waist. Zach’s fingers were strong, steady as they caressed Chris’ sides, one finally coming to rest against his hip.
Chris felt Zach’s lips kiss against his throat, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. He drew in a deep breath and let it rattle out of him, his eyes opening and his vision blurry without his contacts. But he saw everything he needed to see. The soft smile the ticked the corners of Zach’s mouth up and the deep brown of his eyes and all the affection they held. Chris’s mouth curled in a private, intimate smile.
“Hey,” Chris said, speaking the first words since he’d walked into Zach’s house.
“He speaks,” Zach smiled, thumb swiping against the corner of Chris’ mouth.
“I had nothing good to say when I came through the door,” he said.
“How about now?” Zach said, rasping the words against Chris’ lips.
“Now I’m here in our room. Now what happened outside those doors doesn’t seem to matter quite so much,” Chris said.
Zach lifted his eyebrows. “Tell me what happened today.”
Chris shook his head. “I don’t want to spend my time complaining about shit. I feel like an asshole for not dealing better with things. I wanted to hit one of those guys with the cameras today. He thanked me for being cool and I almost punched him.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Zach said. “It takes time.”
Chris nodded. “That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he said.
“It’s true,” Zach said. “And in the meantime we have this room. We have each other.”
Chris swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “You’re the only thing that I can’t stand to lose.”
“You won’t. Just don’t go very far, Chris. Stay here. Stay with me,” Zach said, mouth soft and sweet against Chris’.
“I won’t go anywhere. This is where I belong,” Chris said.
“Yes, yes it is,” Zach said, rolling his hips, making Chris moan. “Talk to me now. I want to hear your voice; I want to know everything that happened today, everything in your head.”
Chris whimpered and arched and squeezed around Zach, feeling him grow hard inside him, gripping the other man’s arms and starting to talk, to let the day pour out of him, to let Zach know that he would never go very far, that he would always come back here, to this room, to this bed and to his arms.
~fin~