It's Good To Be In Love (Details) Part 2
Title: It's Good To Be In Love (Details)
Fandom: RPF
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just love 'em
Warnings: long-term angst, OFC, mild het
Summary: Part 2 of 11. Zach has a crush on Chris but Chris really doesn't want to know. A lot of angst, UST and crappy decision making follows and eventually, Zach has to make a choice.
Follows the songs from Frou Frou's album, Details - which is my favourite album of all time, just to be melodramatic. The song's aren't in order, I sorted them as needed for the story arc. Normally I don't do songfics but this story just flowed out of the album for me, so I went for it.
It's Good To Be In Love is track 3 on the album and the lyrics for all the songs on Details can be found here. If you haven't heard it and you can get your hands (electronic or otherwise) on the album, I thoroughly recommend it.
Download It's Good To Be In Love
The lights from the living room were drawing strange shadows on the night-dark concrete of the front yard and Zach found his mind insisting that he spend precious minutes deciphering the mysterious shapes, instead of heading into the party where he would be forced to confront a painful truth. He would have happily spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness if he hadn’t heard the sound of someone opening the high, wrought iron gate behind him and heading up the path. Moving quickly forward, Zach bounded up the steps, his tight black jeans making every leap a calculated move. Reaching the front door, he took a deep breath and knocked sharply. The murmurs of the party swelled as the door swung open and Zach was presented with a slightly inebriated Chris, framed in the tarnished-gold light of his hallway. It had been six months since they had last seen each other and time had added another layer of awkwardness on top of what had already been formed by Zach’s ill-advised crush.
“Hey.” Said Chris, his eyes blearily adjusting to the darkness.
“Hey.” Zach replied because really, there was nothing that they could say to each other that wouldn’t make things worse. Zach knew that he should hope for a return to the easy friendship that they once had but it would be a lie. He wanted more.
They stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds before Chris silently motioned for Zach to come in. The warmth and light washed over Zach in a riot of bright colours as he made his way into Chris’ house and he paused for a moment, his hand on the frame of the living room door.
“Zach!”
It was Zoe, standing by the long table, its gaudily draped top fairly groaning with food and drink. Zoe herself was looking gorgeous as usual, her tiny form draped elegantly in spider-silk black.
“Hey Zoe, haven’t seen you in a while. How’ve you been?”
Zoe began to regale Zach with her life for the past two months but Zach’s gaze was strobing the room, searching for his host. Finally, he found him standing with a glass of wine in his hand, chatting to four or five people that Zach didn’t know. His smile was infectious, even from this distance and Zach had to pinch his thigh hard in order to stop himself from grinning.
Chris looked so beautiful in his inebriety, his steel-blue jeans matching his eyes perfectly. A flash of something close to jealousy whispered through Zach’s mind at that - Chris was, at the best of times, hopeless when it came to colour coordination. The fact that he looked so stunningly organised tonight was yet another piece of proof that he was off the market and out of Zach’s reach. His shirt was definitely designer, although Zach couldn’t pin down the exact label, and its simple, vertically striped pattern in light blues, greys and greens made Zach feel as though he was dressed in track pants and a t-shirt that he’d found in a dumpster.
The night moved on and Zach tried not to look at Chris too much and instead made his way through the scurf of old and new friends, laughing when he was supposed to and nodding solemnly when he wasn’t. Eventually, however, Zach found himself so near to Chris that it would have been rude to ignore him. Bracing himself he turned around, only to see Chris with his arms wrapped around his thin, blonde girlfriend, his face buried in the side of her neck and her perfectly coiffed platinum locks cascading over his own, dark blond hair.
Every muscle in Zach’s body froze painfully, every one but his heart, which seemed to be racing so fast that the colours of the room were beginning to slide together like paint on a palette. He knew she would be here, in fact, she had probably been here the whole time but Zach had blocked her out with his awesome Superpowers of Denial. Now she was unavoidable. Her sparkly white dress was like a beacon, an evil beacon, announcing to the whole world that she had won what Zach could not. Every saccharine smile she gave sliced at Zach and his thin facade of calm until he was almost visibly shaking with... Zach couldn’t even put a name to the emotions that were screaming around inside him.
Then her laughing eyes locked with his and they slid from carefree to territorial. Zach pressed on anyway - to turn around now and walk away would be the height of cowardice and if there was one thing that Zachary Quinto was not, it was a coward.
“It’s... Zach, right?” The blonde asked, feigning ignorance.
“Yeah,” Zach replied. “and you’re?...”
“Michelle.” She said with absolute superiority, lengthening the ‘m’ and Zach concluded - ‘model’, or something equally vacuous, yet important enough in her eyes for her to consider Zach and herself on equal footing.
Chris finished whatever conversation he had been having with what looked like a Producer of some sort and turned to Zach and... Mmmichelle.
“Oh, so you two’ve finally met.”
Zach and the white witch smiled falsely at each other.
“Yeah, we’ve just been swapping ID tags.”
Chris snorted with laughter and Zach figured that he’d made the trip from tipsy to drunk sometime during the evening.
“So?” Chris asked, raising his eyebrows at Zach. “Whaddya think of her?”
“Chris!” Michelle squealed in mock outrage. “I’m not a new toy to show off to your friends!”
Chris grinned back at her, all alcohol and unrestrained emotion and Zach could see that it was love, actual love that Chris felt for Michelle. They’d been dating for four months or so from what Zach had gleaned from mutual friends and he had assumed that it was nothing special, just an ordinary cohesion of dates and sex and conversation. But this look - Chris, stripped of all his reserve unabashedly beaming with... love... Zach hadn’t expected this, wasn’t prepared for it. Now he had to play the good friend, the supportive buddy who doesn’t point out the gaping personality flaws in his friend’s girl, who’s happy for him. Unreservedly happy.
“I think she’s lovely Chris. I’m so happy for you, for both of you.”
Chris flashed Zach a genuine smile, one so clear of hesitation that Zach felt as though he’d been punched. So this is what it took to get him back. Realisation hit Zach at about the same time as the phantom fist. He was safe now. Chris was safe from Zach and what ever he had wanted from him. In a steady relationship, with a girl he loved - all he had needed was Zach’s acceptance and all the bad feeling was gone. Because Zach was safe again and Chris could be friends with him once more, without the worrying threat of Captain Subtext lurking in every stilted conversation.
And Zach was happy. He was happy to see Chris so content. He was happy that they could now salvage their friendship. Most of all, he was happy that Chris was in love because it really suited him, just like everything always did. It didn’t matter that Zach felt like a shabby intruder in a glittering crowd of butterflies, as long as Chris was happy. He supposed, in the end that love was exactly that - the need to see the one you care for happy, even at the cost of your own pleasure. So Zach stayed happy, even though he felt bruised all over, even though he felt like his clothes were someone else’s rags.
He stayed happy, even when the party was over and he wandered back out into the sparkling darkness of the night and left all the colours of the world behind with Chris...
Part Three
Fandom: RPF
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just love 'em
Warnings: long-term angst, OFC, mild het
Summary: Part 2 of 11. Zach has a crush on Chris but Chris really doesn't want to know. A lot of angst, UST and crappy decision making follows and eventually, Zach has to make a choice.
Follows the songs from Frou Frou's album, Details - which is my favourite album of all time, just to be melodramatic. The song's aren't in order, I sorted them as needed for the story arc. Normally I don't do songfics but this story just flowed out of the album for me, so I went for it.
It's Good To Be In Love is track 3 on the album and the lyrics for all the songs on Details can be found here. If you haven't heard it and you can get your hands (electronic or otherwise) on the album, I thoroughly recommend it.
Download It's Good To Be In Love
The lights from the living room were drawing strange shadows on the night-dark concrete of the front yard and Zach found his mind insisting that he spend precious minutes deciphering the mysterious shapes, instead of heading into the party where he would be forced to confront a painful truth. He would have happily spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness if he hadn’t heard the sound of someone opening the high, wrought iron gate behind him and heading up the path. Moving quickly forward, Zach bounded up the steps, his tight black jeans making every leap a calculated move. Reaching the front door, he took a deep breath and knocked sharply. The murmurs of the party swelled as the door swung open and Zach was presented with a slightly inebriated Chris, framed in the tarnished-gold light of his hallway. It had been six months since they had last seen each other and time had added another layer of awkwardness on top of what had already been formed by Zach’s ill-advised crush.
“Hey.” Said Chris, his eyes blearily adjusting to the darkness.
“Hey.” Zach replied because really, there was nothing that they could say to each other that wouldn’t make things worse. Zach knew that he should hope for a return to the easy friendship that they once had but it would be a lie. He wanted more.
They stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds before Chris silently motioned for Zach to come in. The warmth and light washed over Zach in a riot of bright colours as he made his way into Chris’ house and he paused for a moment, his hand on the frame of the living room door.
“Zach!”
It was Zoe, standing by the long table, its gaudily draped top fairly groaning with food and drink. Zoe herself was looking gorgeous as usual, her tiny form draped elegantly in spider-silk black.
“Hey Zoe, haven’t seen you in a while. How’ve you been?”
Zoe began to regale Zach with her life for the past two months but Zach’s gaze was strobing the room, searching for his host. Finally, he found him standing with a glass of wine in his hand, chatting to four or five people that Zach didn’t know. His smile was infectious, even from this distance and Zach had to pinch his thigh hard in order to stop himself from grinning.
Chris looked so beautiful in his inebriety, his steel-blue jeans matching his eyes perfectly. A flash of something close to jealousy whispered through Zach’s mind at that - Chris was, at the best of times, hopeless when it came to colour coordination. The fact that he looked so stunningly organised tonight was yet another piece of proof that he was off the market and out of Zach’s reach. His shirt was definitely designer, although Zach couldn’t pin down the exact label, and its simple, vertically striped pattern in light blues, greys and greens made Zach feel as though he was dressed in track pants and a t-shirt that he’d found in a dumpster.
The night moved on and Zach tried not to look at Chris too much and instead made his way through the scurf of old and new friends, laughing when he was supposed to and nodding solemnly when he wasn’t. Eventually, however, Zach found himself so near to Chris that it would have been rude to ignore him. Bracing himself he turned around, only to see Chris with his arms wrapped around his thin, blonde girlfriend, his face buried in the side of her neck and her perfectly coiffed platinum locks cascading over his own, dark blond hair.
Every muscle in Zach’s body froze painfully, every one but his heart, which seemed to be racing so fast that the colours of the room were beginning to slide together like paint on a palette. He knew she would be here, in fact, she had probably been here the whole time but Zach had blocked her out with his awesome Superpowers of Denial. Now she was unavoidable. Her sparkly white dress was like a beacon, an evil beacon, announcing to the whole world that she had won what Zach could not. Every saccharine smile she gave sliced at Zach and his thin facade of calm until he was almost visibly shaking with... Zach couldn’t even put a name to the emotions that were screaming around inside him.
Then her laughing eyes locked with his and they slid from carefree to territorial. Zach pressed on anyway - to turn around now and walk away would be the height of cowardice and if there was one thing that Zachary Quinto was not, it was a coward.
“It’s... Zach, right?” The blonde asked, feigning ignorance.
“Yeah,” Zach replied. “and you’re?...”
“Michelle.” She said with absolute superiority, lengthening the ‘m’ and Zach concluded - ‘model’, or something equally vacuous, yet important enough in her eyes for her to consider Zach and herself on equal footing.
Chris finished whatever conversation he had been having with what looked like a Producer of some sort and turned to Zach and... Mmmichelle.
“Oh, so you two’ve finally met.”
Zach and the white witch smiled falsely at each other.
“Yeah, we’ve just been swapping ID tags.”
Chris snorted with laughter and Zach figured that he’d made the trip from tipsy to drunk sometime during the evening.
“So?” Chris asked, raising his eyebrows at Zach. “Whaddya think of her?”
“Chris!” Michelle squealed in mock outrage. “I’m not a new toy to show off to your friends!”
Chris grinned back at her, all alcohol and unrestrained emotion and Zach could see that it was love, actual love that Chris felt for Michelle. They’d been dating for four months or so from what Zach had gleaned from mutual friends and he had assumed that it was nothing special, just an ordinary cohesion of dates and sex and conversation. But this look - Chris, stripped of all his reserve unabashedly beaming with... love... Zach hadn’t expected this, wasn’t prepared for it. Now he had to play the good friend, the supportive buddy who doesn’t point out the gaping personality flaws in his friend’s girl, who’s happy for him. Unreservedly happy.
“I think she’s lovely Chris. I’m so happy for you, for both of you.”
Chris flashed Zach a genuine smile, one so clear of hesitation that Zach felt as though he’d been punched. So this is what it took to get him back. Realisation hit Zach at about the same time as the phantom fist. He was safe now. Chris was safe from Zach and what ever he had wanted from him. In a steady relationship, with a girl he loved - all he had needed was Zach’s acceptance and all the bad feeling was gone. Because Zach was safe again and Chris could be friends with him once more, without the worrying threat of Captain Subtext lurking in every stilted conversation.
And Zach was happy. He was happy to see Chris so content. He was happy that they could now salvage their friendship. Most of all, he was happy that Chris was in love because it really suited him, just like everything always did. It didn’t matter that Zach felt like a shabby intruder in a glittering crowd of butterflies, as long as Chris was happy. He supposed, in the end that love was exactly that - the need to see the one you care for happy, even at the cost of your own pleasure. So Zach stayed happy, even though he felt bruised all over, even though he felt like his clothes were someone else’s rags.
He stayed happy, even when the party was over and he wandered back out into the sparkling darkness of the night and left all the colours of the world behind with Chris...
Part Three