Fic:The Rest of You [Two of Us Interlude]
Title: The Rest of You
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: It’s time for Chris to shave the beard he’s kept for the last decade or so and he’s a little anxious.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: This is basically an interlude/sequel set in the universe of my fic “The Two of Us”. I'd definitely say it's required reading. It takes place shortly after the first section of that story, which is approximately 20 years from present. Song title and lyrics at the start from “This Is the Time” by Billy Joel.
Word Count: 4072
You’ve given me the best of you and now I need the rest of you
Zach moved deliberately around their Los Angeles rental house. It was quiet now that their friends were gone for the night, leaving only empty beer bottles, three quarters empty wine glasses and a variety of half eaten food in their wake. Zach threw the plates and stemware into the dishwasher and dumped everything else into the trash. It took him a good half hour to accomplish it all. As he made his way towards the bedroom he expected to find Chris already in bed, deep in thought, pen scratching words into one of those leather bound journals he insisted on writing in.
To Zach’s surprise the bed was still made and the bathroom door shut when he walked into the room. Zach slipped out of his clothes and into a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms and a faded t-shirt that hung too loose on his frame to ever have belonged to him but after twenty some odd years together wardrobe lines had blurred just like all the rest.
Zach turned down the bed and thought about slipping under the covers but his eyes kept glancing back at the bathroom door. He crossed over to it and gave a perfunctory knock as his hand clasped the knob and turned. When the door didn’t immediately give way Zach blinked and by instinct tried again. His brain slowly caught on to the fact that the door was locked.
An irrational stab of fear hit Zach square in the chest. It had been a very long time since he and Chris locked doors on each other. It had become impractical for a number of reasons and there was a time when Chris needed Zach’s help and a locked door was borderline dangerous. “Chris? Everything all right?” he asked, forcing his voice to come out measured and calm.
“Yeah,” came Chris’ muffled reply.
“The door’s locked,” Zach said and immediately felt like an idiot. Of course Chris knew the door was locked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Do you want to let me in?” Zach said.
“Not especially,” Chris said.
Zach frowned. “You know I could pop the door off its hinges. I’d rather not because this is just a rental and we’re already paying through the nose to stay here.”
“I’m fine,” Chris said, a noticeable tinge of annoyance evident even with the sound muffled.
“Why am I unconvinced?” Zach said. It was a good question, frankly. Chris wasn’t asking Zach for help, hadn’t called out for him like he’d often had to years ago in the wake of the car accident that had robbed Chris of many of his dreams and a good portion of his pride for a good long time. But something in Zach’s gut had him worried. Maybe it was the way Chris had been quiet at the dinner party, or at least quiet for Chris. Maybe it was the look in Chris’ eyes, the tight set of his jaw yesterday, when they got the revised shooting schedule. Or maybe it was simply the way Zach could read even the most subtle of Chris’ moods after a life lived together. Whatever it was, Zach wondered where the toolbox was because in about ten seconds he was going to start breaking the door down, financial concerns be damned.
Before Zach could go in search of the tools he heard the gears click and saw the door open just a fraction. Zach pushed it open wide enough so he could slip inside and shut it behind him. Steam hit his skin, hot water flowing from the faucet and pooling in the sink. He looked at Chris who had his hands braced on the porcelain as he leaned forward, staring at himself in the fogged-up mirror.
Zach saw the brand new shaving kit they’d purchased sitting on the small vanity table, items strewn across it. He took a step closer to Chris and rested his hand gently against the small of Chris’ back. “Need some help?” he asked, his voice low. “You know, it’s just like riding a bike.”
“You can fall and scrape off half your face?” Chris said, his voice harsh.
Zach stepped closer, standing behind his lover. He took a towel and cleared the mirror before sliding his arms around the other man, holding him close as he rested his chin on Chris’ shoulder. Zach brushed his clean-shaven cheek to Chris’, feeling the thick bristles of hair rub against his skin. “Talk to me,” Zach said.
“I can’t do this,” Chris said, the words coming out in a puff of breath, like Chris had been holding them inside forever.
“I’ll help,” Zach said. “Come sit down.”
Chris shook his head. “I don’t mean shave,” he said, letting out a little bitter laughter. “I mean I can’t do this. Acting. It’s-it’s not my world anymore. I don’t belong in it,” he said.
Zach took a half-step back and gripped Chris’ shoulders, urging the other man with his hands until Chris turned and they were eye to eye. “Tell me why,” Zach said.
“I liked the idea. When you looked into my eyes that morning and told me we could do this again. That we could right the wrongs of the past. Like some plot device right out Star Trek. I thought-I thought, wouldn’t that feel good? To erase that last hurt, to have one more golden moment on the silver screen with you. To go back to the place where everything good began for us. You know, we danced around this for so long and I’ve always wondered if we’d ever have fallen in love if not for that first movie. Do you ever wonder that?”
Zach nodded. “Yeah. I think about it sometimes. If you weren’t Kirk and I wasn’t Spock maybe we’d have stayed the kind of friends who get coffee and have lunch and never amount to more.”
Chris smiled. “That’s why I wanted to try. I thought that I needed it, you know? Like it could be closure,” he said.
“And now?” Zach said.
“There’s no closure to be had. The man I was-the one who defined himself as an actor, he’s gone. I let all of that go,” Chris said and then paused, seeming to reconsider the words. “No, I didn’t let it go. I cut it out of my heart with painstaking precision. Sliver by sliver.”
“I know,” Zach said, his voice raw. “I watched you do it. We cried together.”
Chris let out a shuddering breath. His eyes were wet; pools of blue water shimmering like the oceans after the tide. He reached for Zach and took hold of his face, fingers tracing over Zach’s cheekbones, thumbs caressing over his jaw. “We built something new. Something that maybe would never have been this strong. I don’t know. It would be madness to say I’m grateful for that accident. But even so I can’t say I wish it never happen, that I’d choose to erase it from existence if I could. I love this life we have, Zach. I love everything about it. I love that I’m home when you get back from a day on set, I love that I write these silly little books that will never be bestsellers, that will never pay the bills but are better than anything I ever thought I’d do.” Chris stopped. “No, that’s wrong. You and me, we’re better than anything I ever thought I’d do. As an actor, as a writer, as anything.”
Chris kissed Zach then, mouth warm and a little rough against Zach’s, needy and demanding. Zach opened up for Chris; let him steal his breath like he’d stolen his heart so long ago. “I love those silly little books you write. Which are not silly. They’re beautiful and profoundly moving,” he said. “And I love our life. Maybe selfishly because I got to have you with me more than I ever would have otherwise. In bed with me every night, pressed against me every morning.”
“I wouldn’t trade it, Zach. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Not old dreams, not new dreams. Not anything,” Chris said. “I have everything I want.”
They kissed again, lips ghosting together, light and sweet. “So do I. Right here in this slightly cramped, humid as fuck bathroom.”
Chris chuckled. “This admittedly isn’t the greatest location for such a poignant moment but, well, I’ve learned that when the words want to come out you just have to let them,” he said.
“I wasn’t complaining,” Zach said.
“Yeah, you were. Next time I’ll prepare in advance. Sunset maybe, candles. Flowers.”
“You’re a sap,” Zach said.
“Yeah, maybe I am,” Chris said.
Zach’s smile deepened as he reached out, hand splaying over the side of Chris’ face, feeling the stubble prick his fingertips as he stroked them down the line of Chris’ jaw. “So, now that you got that out, tell me the truth,” he said, matter-of-factly.
Chris’ forehead furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You know I love you even when you’re full of shit,” Zach said.
“Hey,” Chris protested. “That was completely sincere.”
“I know it was. But the reason you were in here, with the door locked, has nothing to do with you not needing closure on the past.”
Chris dropped his eyes for a few seconds and that confirmed for Zach that he’d hit the nail on the head. When he was looking into Chris’ eyes again he arched an eyebrow and waited. “You’re the genius, go on, tell me what’s really wrong,” Chris said.
“Well, I know for a fact you’re enjoying acting again. Maybe it’s not your passion anymore, maybe it’s not the life you want, and maybe you’ll never feel the need to do another movie after this one. But I’ve watched you on set; I’ve seen the light in your eyes and the little quirk of your lips. You’re having fun.”
Chris inclined his head. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Why’d you lock the door?” Zach said, his voice very soft. “We haven’t locked doors in how many years?”
“Since I was an idiot and slipped trying to get out of the tub by myself and nearly broke my hip again. Twelve, thirteen years, give or take.”
Zach nodded. “That was pretty fucking stupid,” he said. “You knew you couldn’t get up without help but you let your pride get in the way and we spent the night in the ER.”
“Jesus, Zach. What happened to my supportive, attentive, understanding lover?”
“I am happy to be that when you need it. Right now you’re being stupid and I’m going to tell you because that’s how much I love you,” Zach said. “Now out with it. Why’d you lock the door?”
“I didn’t want you to see me,” Chris said, his voice so soft that Zach wasn’t sure he’d have heard him if he wasn’t standing inches away. “Did you hear that crack Karl made on set yesterday? After we got the new schedule? About finally seeing my face after all these years?” Zach nodded. “You haven’t seen me, either. I guess-I guess I’m afraid of what you’ll think,” Chris said.
“You really are an idiot,” Zach said, softly, affectionately. He ran his fingers over both sides of Chris’ face now, paying special attention to the scar underneath the rough hair on the right side. “Do you think I’ve forgotten what this scar looks like? Do you think it ever made you any less beautiful?”
“Zach,” Chris breathed.
“Don’t you dare insult me now,” Zach said. “Don’t even suggest that I’m not telling the truth because if you do I swear to God, Chris, I’ll walk out the damn door.”
“Now who’s full of shit?” Chris said, his voice scratchy.
Zach let out a huff of laughter. “Okay, we both are. But I’m deadly serious, Chris. You’re the one who’s still self conscious over it. And I’m not telling you not to be. I’m not saying this should be easy, that shaving off that beard so you can film the rest of the movie should be a cake walk. I wouldn’t insult your very real and valid feelings. But with me, Chris? I sure as hell hope you know better.”
Chris closed his eyes and leaned back. “I’m scared. It’s suddenly real. It’s not just you and our friends and the crew. It’s the whole world. I guess it didn’t really hit me. Not until I saw that JJ had that bridge scene with Spock and McCoy dragging Kirk back to command the Enterprise scheduled for this week.”
“I’m sorry,” Zach said. “We should have talked about this more. We should have sat down and really gone over it. But I've got to say that I think your fears are unfounded. I don’t think the scar is as bad as you think it is. I don’t think people will react like you’re Quasimodo. I think you’re just as beautiful as you ever were though I am willing to admit a minor case of bias.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me and tell me it’ll be all right,” Chris said, sounding small and scared in the same way he did in the months following the accident when he would breathe those very same words into Zach’s ear in the dark, pressed against him in their bed, when the pain and the doubts were too much.
Zach pressed himself to Chris and kissed him. The kiss was firm, meant to reassure, to express love and certainty. “It will be all right,” Zach said.
Chris exhaled. “Get out of here. Let me finish this,” he said, reaching for the jar of shaving soap and the brush.
“You’re sure you don’t want my help?” Zach said.
“Yeah. Like riding a bike, right?” he said, wetting the brush under the running water.
“Yep,” Zach said, pressing a kiss to Chris’ cheek. “Call me if you need me.”
Chris nodded and turned his attention to the mirror. Zach watched for a few seconds as Chris worked up a good lather on the brush and began to coat his face with it. “You’re still watching,” Chris said, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m going,” Zach said, raising his hands in defeat and then slipping outside. He closed the door behind him and waited a few seconds, satisfied when he didn’t hear the lock click.
Zach went over to the bed and slid under the covers. Ordinarily he'd fire up his laptop and spend some time answering emails since Chris liked to write a bit before bed. But Zach had a hunch the usual routine was going to be suspended.
He picked up the book he’d been reading off the nightstand and thumbed through it idly, making no real effort to actually read, forcing himself to not glance at the door every thirty seconds. Zach had somehow gotten distracted by the words on the page so that he didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open or Chris’ footsteps on the thick carpet. It wasn’t until the bed dipped under his lover’s weight that Zach looked up.
There were no words to define this moment. There was nothing in English or any other language that Zach had familiarity with that could have encompassed all he felt as he looked at Chris’ face. He absentmindedly dropped the book onto the nightstand and turned to his side so that he was facing Chris.
A hint of fear darkened Chris’ bright blue eyes. The crinkles were etched more deeply than usual, his mouth set in a tight line, his jaw clenched, the muscles working visibly. Zach reached out and rested a hand against the smooth skin of Chris’ left cheek. There were a few faint lines here and there, age refining Chris’ features, revealing evidence of unfathomable happiness born of a complicated, rich life; the callowness of youth almost completely gone, save for that boyish twinkle in his sky blue eyes.
Zach didn’t even see it at first. Didn’t even notice the scar that cut over Chris’ right cheek, from just above his chin all the way up, close to the corner of his eye. It was only when he touched it, by accident, as his fingers smoothed over Chris’ face, feeling skin he hadn’t touched in so many years. His fingers stopped for a split second, right in their tracks, like tires hitting a speed bump. He felt the slightly raised skin, the texture different than the rest of Chris’ face, smoother than unmarred skin, matching the familiar feel of the scar that ran the length of one of Chris’ thighs.
Zach gently turned Chris’ face so that he could see it fully. He slid a finger tenderly down its length, his touch reverential. His other hand sought out one of Chris’ and he twined their fingers together. He could feel tremors running through Chris’ hand as he squeezed softly. Zach moved his fingers from Chris’ cheek to his neck, wrapping them behind and bringing his lips close, dragging them softly over the scar and then Chris’ throat and finally against his ear. “There is nothing about you that isn’t completely beautiful,” he rasped.
Chris turned his head and their mouths touched in an almost hesitant way. Zach held back; let Chris kiss him the way he wanted to. He released Chris’ hand and took the other man into his arms. Chris trembled against him and Zach searched his eyes and his chest tightened. It wasn’t fear that made Chris shake; it was emotion, emotion that ran so deep it rocked Chris to his core.
Zach pushed Chris down to the bed and helped strip his boxers and t-shirt off before shedding his own clothes. He covered Chris with his body and pulled the covers up over them. He looked down at his lover’s face. “I missed your face,” he said before capturing Chris’ lips in a kiss.
Chris was pliant beneath him, yielding to Zach’s caresses, sighing at every gentle touch, every whispered word. Zach moved his lips from Chris’ mouth to his jaw, sliding them softly over the newly exposed skin, savoring the feel of it as he surveyed it anew, relearning every centimeter. His mouth brushed over Chris’ left cheek, down to his chin and then up the right side, lips petal soft as they smoothed over the scar, licking at it too, as his hands roamed over Chris’ sides, resting at his hips momentarily before skating over his thighs.
Chris was quiet beneath Zach, his breath hitching occasionally, a dulcet sigh even more rarely heard. Zach groaned, the sound low and visceral, as Chris’ hands stroked against his back, dipping lower to knead his backside. Zach’s hips stuttered, his cock twitched.
Zach moved one hand off of Chris and reached into the drawer of the nightstand, finding the bottle of lube and pumping some onto his palm. He pushed Chris’ legs apart with his knee and pressed a slick finger against the puckered flesh. He sucked Chris’ lower lip between his and eased his finger inside his lover’s body. Chris’ breathing was measured as Zach began to stretch him open, the familiar touch perhaps unneeded but not unwelcome as evidenced by the low, sweet whimpers that fell from his lips.
Zach worked another finger inside Chris and then a third, the touches firm, languid. Chris shivered when Zach curled them, finding just the right spot. He did it again and Chris gripped Zach’s arms and lifted his hips, making needy little noises. Zach thrust his fingers in and out, earning demanding sobs and full body tremors. He finally stopped, withdrawing his fingers and threading one of Chris’ legs behind his back, hooked around his waist.
Zach gripped Chris’ hips and hitched him up, bending him a little and settling against him. He slicked himself with more lube before pressing against Chris. He stretched one hand out and rested the palm on the right side of Chris’ face, their eyes meeting.
Chris was gorgeous this way, chest heaving, eyes burning bright, lips wet. Zach told him so, said the words out loud, so that Chris knew, so that he understood that nothing and no one was as beautiful to him as he was.
With one slow motion Zach buried himself to the hilt, the velvet heat of Chris closing around him, holding him tight. He could feel Chris throb, could feel every beat of his heart as he held still inside him.
Chris breathed his name and Zach started to rock his hips, thrusting deep and slow. His lips dropped tender, open-mouthed kisses against Chris’ scarred skin, his fingers finding the matching scar on Chris’ hip and smoothing against it.
Chris lifted up, driving Zach more deeply inside him. He held onto Zach at the waist and they moved together, the rhythm easy. The blue of Chris’ eyes glimmered, the whole of him laid bare for Zach. Zach told Chris he loved him. Said it once, said it twice, said it so many times he lost count. He breathed the words against Chris’ lips like they were a prayer. Chris said them back, echoed them, rasped them breathlessly until he couldn’t speak anymore, until all he could do was sob with pleasure as Zach wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked and squeezed and tugged the hard flesh.
Zach was still slamming into Chris, harder, impossibly deep, over and over, his hand tightening around Chris’ length and jerking until Chris came, his moans rumbling through Zach as his whole frame shook. Zach’s hand still touched Chris lazily as his thrusts faltered and he rutted wildly, consumed with need and lost in the molten heat of Chris’ body.
Zach came hard, spilling into Chris, collapsing against him in a spent heap. Chris instantly wrapped him in his arms, holding him as closely as possible, their hearts thrumming against one another. Their lips met softly, instinctively seeking each other even as they continued to catch their breaths. It was a long while before they spoke, Zach finally drawing his head back, pushing some of Chris’ blond hair away from where it had become plastered to his forehead by sweat.
“You never had to hide from me, you know that, right?” Zach whispered.
Chris inclined his head. “It wasn’t you I was hiding from,” he said. “It was me. I suppose I’m not as well adjusted as I tell myself.”
Zach laughed softly. “Well adjusted is boring,” he said.
“I’m glad you think so,” Chris said, one corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk.
Zach kissed him lightly and continued to toy with the golden strands of hair. “I like you this way,” he mused. “Seeing your skin this way, flushed, warm beneath my fingers,” he mused, sliding his hand along Chris’ cheek, his scar. “I like being able to touch your face, press my cheek to yours,” he said and then did just that.
“You’re right, this does have its distinct benefits,” Chris sighed.
Zach met his eyes again. “Though, I must say, I prefer your hair pre-dye job,” he said.
Chris chuckled. “Yeah? Ditto,” he said.
Zach made a face. “I still don’t know what the hair people thought they saw. I didn’t have any grey hairs, there was no need to color mine,” he said.
“Right,” Chris nodded. “No need at all. You didn’t have one white hair. Not a single one.”
“That’s right. It’s in the blood. We Quinto men have perfectly black hair until the day we die.” Chris arched an eyebrow and took hold of Zach’s arm, examining it and then plucking out a hair, causing Zach to yelp. “What the fuck did you do that for?”
Chris raised the hair into Zach’s line of sight. “What color would you call that?”
“Blond,” Zach said.
Chris laughed hard. “Blond?”
Zach nodded and batted Chris’ hand away, capturing his mouth in a kiss. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“Fair enough,” Chris said as he melted into Zach’s kiss.
Zach kissed Chris for a long time until they were breathless again, cuddled together and quiet with satisfaction. “Everything will be all right tomorrow,” Zach said after a long stretch.
Chris looked into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’ll have you there.”
“Always,” Zach said, punctuating the oft-made promise with yet another gentle kiss.
~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: It’s time for Chris to shave the beard he’s kept for the last decade or so and he’s a little anxious.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: This is basically an interlude/sequel set in the universe of my fic “The Two of Us”. I'd definitely say it's required reading. It takes place shortly after the first section of that story, which is approximately 20 years from present. Song title and lyrics at the start from “This Is the Time” by Billy Joel.
Word Count: 4072
You’ve given me the best of you and now I need the rest of you
Zach moved deliberately around their Los Angeles rental house. It was quiet now that their friends were gone for the night, leaving only empty beer bottles, three quarters empty wine glasses and a variety of half eaten food in their wake. Zach threw the plates and stemware into the dishwasher and dumped everything else into the trash. It took him a good half hour to accomplish it all. As he made his way towards the bedroom he expected to find Chris already in bed, deep in thought, pen scratching words into one of those leather bound journals he insisted on writing in.
To Zach’s surprise the bed was still made and the bathroom door shut when he walked into the room. Zach slipped out of his clothes and into a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms and a faded t-shirt that hung too loose on his frame to ever have belonged to him but after twenty some odd years together wardrobe lines had blurred just like all the rest.
Zach turned down the bed and thought about slipping under the covers but his eyes kept glancing back at the bathroom door. He crossed over to it and gave a perfunctory knock as his hand clasped the knob and turned. When the door didn’t immediately give way Zach blinked and by instinct tried again. His brain slowly caught on to the fact that the door was locked.
An irrational stab of fear hit Zach square in the chest. It had been a very long time since he and Chris locked doors on each other. It had become impractical for a number of reasons and there was a time when Chris needed Zach’s help and a locked door was borderline dangerous. “Chris? Everything all right?” he asked, forcing his voice to come out measured and calm.
“Yeah,” came Chris’ muffled reply.
“The door’s locked,” Zach said and immediately felt like an idiot. Of course Chris knew the door was locked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Do you want to let me in?” Zach said.
“Not especially,” Chris said.
Zach frowned. “You know I could pop the door off its hinges. I’d rather not because this is just a rental and we’re already paying through the nose to stay here.”
“I’m fine,” Chris said, a noticeable tinge of annoyance evident even with the sound muffled.
“Why am I unconvinced?” Zach said. It was a good question, frankly. Chris wasn’t asking Zach for help, hadn’t called out for him like he’d often had to years ago in the wake of the car accident that had robbed Chris of many of his dreams and a good portion of his pride for a good long time. But something in Zach’s gut had him worried. Maybe it was the way Chris had been quiet at the dinner party, or at least quiet for Chris. Maybe it was the look in Chris’ eyes, the tight set of his jaw yesterday, when they got the revised shooting schedule. Or maybe it was simply the way Zach could read even the most subtle of Chris’ moods after a life lived together. Whatever it was, Zach wondered where the toolbox was because in about ten seconds he was going to start breaking the door down, financial concerns be damned.
Before Zach could go in search of the tools he heard the gears click and saw the door open just a fraction. Zach pushed it open wide enough so he could slip inside and shut it behind him. Steam hit his skin, hot water flowing from the faucet and pooling in the sink. He looked at Chris who had his hands braced on the porcelain as he leaned forward, staring at himself in the fogged-up mirror.
Zach saw the brand new shaving kit they’d purchased sitting on the small vanity table, items strewn across it. He took a step closer to Chris and rested his hand gently against the small of Chris’ back. “Need some help?” he asked, his voice low. “You know, it’s just like riding a bike.”
“You can fall and scrape off half your face?” Chris said, his voice harsh.
Zach stepped closer, standing behind his lover. He took a towel and cleared the mirror before sliding his arms around the other man, holding him close as he rested his chin on Chris’ shoulder. Zach brushed his clean-shaven cheek to Chris’, feeling the thick bristles of hair rub against his skin. “Talk to me,” Zach said.
“I can’t do this,” Chris said, the words coming out in a puff of breath, like Chris had been holding them inside forever.
“I’ll help,” Zach said. “Come sit down.”
Chris shook his head. “I don’t mean shave,” he said, letting out a little bitter laughter. “I mean I can’t do this. Acting. It’s-it’s not my world anymore. I don’t belong in it,” he said.
Zach took a half-step back and gripped Chris’ shoulders, urging the other man with his hands until Chris turned and they were eye to eye. “Tell me why,” Zach said.
“I liked the idea. When you looked into my eyes that morning and told me we could do this again. That we could right the wrongs of the past. Like some plot device right out Star Trek. I thought-I thought, wouldn’t that feel good? To erase that last hurt, to have one more golden moment on the silver screen with you. To go back to the place where everything good began for us. You know, we danced around this for so long and I’ve always wondered if we’d ever have fallen in love if not for that first movie. Do you ever wonder that?”
Zach nodded. “Yeah. I think about it sometimes. If you weren’t Kirk and I wasn’t Spock maybe we’d have stayed the kind of friends who get coffee and have lunch and never amount to more.”
Chris smiled. “That’s why I wanted to try. I thought that I needed it, you know? Like it could be closure,” he said.
“And now?” Zach said.
“There’s no closure to be had. The man I was-the one who defined himself as an actor, he’s gone. I let all of that go,” Chris said and then paused, seeming to reconsider the words. “No, I didn’t let it go. I cut it out of my heart with painstaking precision. Sliver by sliver.”
“I know,” Zach said, his voice raw. “I watched you do it. We cried together.”
Chris let out a shuddering breath. His eyes were wet; pools of blue water shimmering like the oceans after the tide. He reached for Zach and took hold of his face, fingers tracing over Zach’s cheekbones, thumbs caressing over his jaw. “We built something new. Something that maybe would never have been this strong. I don’t know. It would be madness to say I’m grateful for that accident. But even so I can’t say I wish it never happen, that I’d choose to erase it from existence if I could. I love this life we have, Zach. I love everything about it. I love that I’m home when you get back from a day on set, I love that I write these silly little books that will never be bestsellers, that will never pay the bills but are better than anything I ever thought I’d do.” Chris stopped. “No, that’s wrong. You and me, we’re better than anything I ever thought I’d do. As an actor, as a writer, as anything.”
Chris kissed Zach then, mouth warm and a little rough against Zach’s, needy and demanding. Zach opened up for Chris; let him steal his breath like he’d stolen his heart so long ago. “I love those silly little books you write. Which are not silly. They’re beautiful and profoundly moving,” he said. “And I love our life. Maybe selfishly because I got to have you with me more than I ever would have otherwise. In bed with me every night, pressed against me every morning.”
“I wouldn’t trade it, Zach. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Not old dreams, not new dreams. Not anything,” Chris said. “I have everything I want.”
They kissed again, lips ghosting together, light and sweet. “So do I. Right here in this slightly cramped, humid as fuck bathroom.”
Chris chuckled. “This admittedly isn’t the greatest location for such a poignant moment but, well, I’ve learned that when the words want to come out you just have to let them,” he said.
“I wasn’t complaining,” Zach said.
“Yeah, you were. Next time I’ll prepare in advance. Sunset maybe, candles. Flowers.”
“You’re a sap,” Zach said.
“Yeah, maybe I am,” Chris said.
Zach’s smile deepened as he reached out, hand splaying over the side of Chris’ face, feeling the stubble prick his fingertips as he stroked them down the line of Chris’ jaw. “So, now that you got that out, tell me the truth,” he said, matter-of-factly.
Chris’ forehead furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You know I love you even when you’re full of shit,” Zach said.
“Hey,” Chris protested. “That was completely sincere.”
“I know it was. But the reason you were in here, with the door locked, has nothing to do with you not needing closure on the past.”
Chris dropped his eyes for a few seconds and that confirmed for Zach that he’d hit the nail on the head. When he was looking into Chris’ eyes again he arched an eyebrow and waited. “You’re the genius, go on, tell me what’s really wrong,” Chris said.
“Well, I know for a fact you’re enjoying acting again. Maybe it’s not your passion anymore, maybe it’s not the life you want, and maybe you’ll never feel the need to do another movie after this one. But I’ve watched you on set; I’ve seen the light in your eyes and the little quirk of your lips. You’re having fun.”
Chris inclined his head. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Why’d you lock the door?” Zach said, his voice very soft. “We haven’t locked doors in how many years?”
“Since I was an idiot and slipped trying to get out of the tub by myself and nearly broke my hip again. Twelve, thirteen years, give or take.”
Zach nodded. “That was pretty fucking stupid,” he said. “You knew you couldn’t get up without help but you let your pride get in the way and we spent the night in the ER.”
“Jesus, Zach. What happened to my supportive, attentive, understanding lover?”
“I am happy to be that when you need it. Right now you’re being stupid and I’m going to tell you because that’s how much I love you,” Zach said. “Now out with it. Why’d you lock the door?”
“I didn’t want you to see me,” Chris said, his voice so soft that Zach wasn’t sure he’d have heard him if he wasn’t standing inches away. “Did you hear that crack Karl made on set yesterday? After we got the new schedule? About finally seeing my face after all these years?” Zach nodded. “You haven’t seen me, either. I guess-I guess I’m afraid of what you’ll think,” Chris said.
“You really are an idiot,” Zach said, softly, affectionately. He ran his fingers over both sides of Chris’ face now, paying special attention to the scar underneath the rough hair on the right side. “Do you think I’ve forgotten what this scar looks like? Do you think it ever made you any less beautiful?”
“Zach,” Chris breathed.
“Don’t you dare insult me now,” Zach said. “Don’t even suggest that I’m not telling the truth because if you do I swear to God, Chris, I’ll walk out the damn door.”
“Now who’s full of shit?” Chris said, his voice scratchy.
Zach let out a huff of laughter. “Okay, we both are. But I’m deadly serious, Chris. You’re the one who’s still self conscious over it. And I’m not telling you not to be. I’m not saying this should be easy, that shaving off that beard so you can film the rest of the movie should be a cake walk. I wouldn’t insult your very real and valid feelings. But with me, Chris? I sure as hell hope you know better.”
Chris closed his eyes and leaned back. “I’m scared. It’s suddenly real. It’s not just you and our friends and the crew. It’s the whole world. I guess it didn’t really hit me. Not until I saw that JJ had that bridge scene with Spock and McCoy dragging Kirk back to command the Enterprise scheduled for this week.”
“I’m sorry,” Zach said. “We should have talked about this more. We should have sat down and really gone over it. But I've got to say that I think your fears are unfounded. I don’t think the scar is as bad as you think it is. I don’t think people will react like you’re Quasimodo. I think you’re just as beautiful as you ever were though I am willing to admit a minor case of bias.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me and tell me it’ll be all right,” Chris said, sounding small and scared in the same way he did in the months following the accident when he would breathe those very same words into Zach’s ear in the dark, pressed against him in their bed, when the pain and the doubts were too much.
Zach pressed himself to Chris and kissed him. The kiss was firm, meant to reassure, to express love and certainty. “It will be all right,” Zach said.
Chris exhaled. “Get out of here. Let me finish this,” he said, reaching for the jar of shaving soap and the brush.
“You’re sure you don’t want my help?” Zach said.
“Yeah. Like riding a bike, right?” he said, wetting the brush under the running water.
“Yep,” Zach said, pressing a kiss to Chris’ cheek. “Call me if you need me.”
Chris nodded and turned his attention to the mirror. Zach watched for a few seconds as Chris worked up a good lather on the brush and began to coat his face with it. “You’re still watching,” Chris said, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m going,” Zach said, raising his hands in defeat and then slipping outside. He closed the door behind him and waited a few seconds, satisfied when he didn’t hear the lock click.
Zach went over to the bed and slid under the covers. Ordinarily he'd fire up his laptop and spend some time answering emails since Chris liked to write a bit before bed. But Zach had a hunch the usual routine was going to be suspended.
He picked up the book he’d been reading off the nightstand and thumbed through it idly, making no real effort to actually read, forcing himself to not glance at the door every thirty seconds. Zach had somehow gotten distracted by the words on the page so that he didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open or Chris’ footsteps on the thick carpet. It wasn’t until the bed dipped under his lover’s weight that Zach looked up.
There were no words to define this moment. There was nothing in English or any other language that Zach had familiarity with that could have encompassed all he felt as he looked at Chris’ face. He absentmindedly dropped the book onto the nightstand and turned to his side so that he was facing Chris.
A hint of fear darkened Chris’ bright blue eyes. The crinkles were etched more deeply than usual, his mouth set in a tight line, his jaw clenched, the muscles working visibly. Zach reached out and rested a hand against the smooth skin of Chris’ left cheek. There were a few faint lines here and there, age refining Chris’ features, revealing evidence of unfathomable happiness born of a complicated, rich life; the callowness of youth almost completely gone, save for that boyish twinkle in his sky blue eyes.
Zach didn’t even see it at first. Didn’t even notice the scar that cut over Chris’ right cheek, from just above his chin all the way up, close to the corner of his eye. It was only when he touched it, by accident, as his fingers smoothed over Chris’ face, feeling skin he hadn’t touched in so many years. His fingers stopped for a split second, right in their tracks, like tires hitting a speed bump. He felt the slightly raised skin, the texture different than the rest of Chris’ face, smoother than unmarred skin, matching the familiar feel of the scar that ran the length of one of Chris’ thighs.
Zach gently turned Chris’ face so that he could see it fully. He slid a finger tenderly down its length, his touch reverential. His other hand sought out one of Chris’ and he twined their fingers together. He could feel tremors running through Chris’ hand as he squeezed softly. Zach moved his fingers from Chris’ cheek to his neck, wrapping them behind and bringing his lips close, dragging them softly over the scar and then Chris’ throat and finally against his ear. “There is nothing about you that isn’t completely beautiful,” he rasped.
Chris turned his head and their mouths touched in an almost hesitant way. Zach held back; let Chris kiss him the way he wanted to. He released Chris’ hand and took the other man into his arms. Chris trembled against him and Zach searched his eyes and his chest tightened. It wasn’t fear that made Chris shake; it was emotion, emotion that ran so deep it rocked Chris to his core.
Zach pushed Chris down to the bed and helped strip his boxers and t-shirt off before shedding his own clothes. He covered Chris with his body and pulled the covers up over them. He looked down at his lover’s face. “I missed your face,” he said before capturing Chris’ lips in a kiss.
Chris was pliant beneath him, yielding to Zach’s caresses, sighing at every gentle touch, every whispered word. Zach moved his lips from Chris’ mouth to his jaw, sliding them softly over the newly exposed skin, savoring the feel of it as he surveyed it anew, relearning every centimeter. His mouth brushed over Chris’ left cheek, down to his chin and then up the right side, lips petal soft as they smoothed over the scar, licking at it too, as his hands roamed over Chris’ sides, resting at his hips momentarily before skating over his thighs.
Chris was quiet beneath Zach, his breath hitching occasionally, a dulcet sigh even more rarely heard. Zach groaned, the sound low and visceral, as Chris’ hands stroked against his back, dipping lower to knead his backside. Zach’s hips stuttered, his cock twitched.
Zach moved one hand off of Chris and reached into the drawer of the nightstand, finding the bottle of lube and pumping some onto his palm. He pushed Chris’ legs apart with his knee and pressed a slick finger against the puckered flesh. He sucked Chris’ lower lip between his and eased his finger inside his lover’s body. Chris’ breathing was measured as Zach began to stretch him open, the familiar touch perhaps unneeded but not unwelcome as evidenced by the low, sweet whimpers that fell from his lips.
Zach worked another finger inside Chris and then a third, the touches firm, languid. Chris shivered when Zach curled them, finding just the right spot. He did it again and Chris gripped Zach’s arms and lifted his hips, making needy little noises. Zach thrust his fingers in and out, earning demanding sobs and full body tremors. He finally stopped, withdrawing his fingers and threading one of Chris’ legs behind his back, hooked around his waist.
Zach gripped Chris’ hips and hitched him up, bending him a little and settling against him. He slicked himself with more lube before pressing against Chris. He stretched one hand out and rested the palm on the right side of Chris’ face, their eyes meeting.
Chris was gorgeous this way, chest heaving, eyes burning bright, lips wet. Zach told him so, said the words out loud, so that Chris knew, so that he understood that nothing and no one was as beautiful to him as he was.
With one slow motion Zach buried himself to the hilt, the velvet heat of Chris closing around him, holding him tight. He could feel Chris throb, could feel every beat of his heart as he held still inside him.
Chris breathed his name and Zach started to rock his hips, thrusting deep and slow. His lips dropped tender, open-mouthed kisses against Chris’ scarred skin, his fingers finding the matching scar on Chris’ hip and smoothing against it.
Chris lifted up, driving Zach more deeply inside him. He held onto Zach at the waist and they moved together, the rhythm easy. The blue of Chris’ eyes glimmered, the whole of him laid bare for Zach. Zach told Chris he loved him. Said it once, said it twice, said it so many times he lost count. He breathed the words against Chris’ lips like they were a prayer. Chris said them back, echoed them, rasped them breathlessly until he couldn’t speak anymore, until all he could do was sob with pleasure as Zach wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked and squeezed and tugged the hard flesh.
Zach was still slamming into Chris, harder, impossibly deep, over and over, his hand tightening around Chris’ length and jerking until Chris came, his moans rumbling through Zach as his whole frame shook. Zach’s hand still touched Chris lazily as his thrusts faltered and he rutted wildly, consumed with need and lost in the molten heat of Chris’ body.
Zach came hard, spilling into Chris, collapsing against him in a spent heap. Chris instantly wrapped him in his arms, holding him as closely as possible, their hearts thrumming against one another. Their lips met softly, instinctively seeking each other even as they continued to catch their breaths. It was a long while before they spoke, Zach finally drawing his head back, pushing some of Chris’ blond hair away from where it had become plastered to his forehead by sweat.
“You never had to hide from me, you know that, right?” Zach whispered.
Chris inclined his head. “It wasn’t you I was hiding from,” he said. “It was me. I suppose I’m not as well adjusted as I tell myself.”
Zach laughed softly. “Well adjusted is boring,” he said.
“I’m glad you think so,” Chris said, one corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk.
Zach kissed him lightly and continued to toy with the golden strands of hair. “I like you this way,” he mused. “Seeing your skin this way, flushed, warm beneath my fingers,” he mused, sliding his hand along Chris’ cheek, his scar. “I like being able to touch your face, press my cheek to yours,” he said and then did just that.
“You’re right, this does have its distinct benefits,” Chris sighed.
Zach met his eyes again. “Though, I must say, I prefer your hair pre-dye job,” he said.
Chris chuckled. “Yeah? Ditto,” he said.
Zach made a face. “I still don’t know what the hair people thought they saw. I didn’t have any grey hairs, there was no need to color mine,” he said.
“Right,” Chris nodded. “No need at all. You didn’t have one white hair. Not a single one.”
“That’s right. It’s in the blood. We Quinto men have perfectly black hair until the day we die.” Chris arched an eyebrow and took hold of Zach’s arm, examining it and then plucking out a hair, causing Zach to yelp. “What the fuck did you do that for?”
Chris raised the hair into Zach’s line of sight. “What color would you call that?”
“Blond,” Zach said.
Chris laughed hard. “Blond?”
Zach nodded and batted Chris’ hand away, capturing his mouth in a kiss. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“Fair enough,” Chris said as he melted into Zach’s kiss.
Zach kissed Chris for a long time until they were breathless again, cuddled together and quiet with satisfaction. “Everything will be all right tomorrow,” Zach said after a long stretch.
Chris looked into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’ll have you there.”
“Always,” Zach said, punctuating the oft-made promise with yet another gentle kiss.
~fin~