Fidelity | Pinto | R | 3/4
Hey.
your texts are always so eloquent. hi. what are you upto
I try. Playing Resident Evil on the Wii. You?
paying my mortgage. ironing out details of client wedding tomorrow. you know, adult things. unlike some people
Beau is away on a girl’s weekend or something equally estrogen-related. And you’re just jealous that I got 15 headshots in a row while you’re working.
there is some insinuation to be said about head but i’ll take the high road on this occasion
First time for everything.
youre so hilarious how do i resist you
No idea.
So, you’ve been working a lot.
i tend to do that. to clothe and feed myself and galvanise my porn addiction. the usual suspects
I haven’t seen you in a while.
you saw me last week for the tux fitting
Yeah, but we didn’t really get to hang out or talk or anything. Not since that day.
i feel like it needs to be capitalised for added drama. That Day. it’s fine chris. things have just been busy. everybody loves a spring wedding apparently
You’re not avoiding me?
of course not why would i
I thought maybe you’d be apprehensive about my... extra inclinations and think I was going to hit on you or something.
i would never expect that from you. no worries
Oh. Good.
So you’ve really just been busy?
im just trying to respect you and beaus relationship. i dont want to make her needlessly traumatised so close to the big day
I guess that makes sense.
i can be a very sensible person if i put my mind to it
I appreciate nonsensical Zach too.
hes not going anywhere either dont you fret
So, do you want to hang out this weekend?
wedding no can do
Oh, right. Next week?
ill let you know when my schedule opens up
Okay. Good night, Zach.
***
When in doubt, implement avoidance.
Up until three weeks ago, Zach would have considered Chris to be a fairly mild-mannered, easy-going guy. Now, not so much.
Every time Zach rejected Chris’ requests for just the two of them to hang out, it seemed like Chris only became more insistent. The guy was genuinely invested in keeping this friendshipthing going.
And while Zach wanted the same - okay, the same with added sex and making out, and possibly something involving chocolate - it was just too difficult. It was hard to be at ease with Chris when Zach had to be careful, had the balance of the Pine-Garrett engagement resting on whether his hand accidentally slipped over Chris’ knee.
A man only had so much self-control.
During the times in which Zach was required to meet with the couple and secretly pine in Chris’ presence, Beau was always there, and the three of them would be finalising the wedding plans that were just around the corner. Zach remained playful with Beau and cordial with Chris, careful not to let an overly-flirtatious word slip.
Beau began to monitor them less and less carefully, but Zach felt her watchful gaze on the back of his head anyway.
The culmination of Zach’s skilful circumvention of the dangerous and unintentionally charming Chris Pine was Zach sitting alone with his brother’s laptop on a Saturday night. He sighed and idly clicked through proofs of his most recently completed wedding. It always brought him a sense of swelling warmth to see his client’s happy faces, and to give himself a pat on the back for a job well done.
But tonight, the photos just didn’t bring him that sense of fulfilment. Zach had gotten off the phone with Chris not twenty minutes ago, having declined the offer to watch an Audrey Hepburn marathon on AMC together. And dammit, he really liked Breakfast at Tiffany’s, too.
Zach allowed himself a dramatic groan of frustration as he clicked away from the Barshney-White couple, preparing to slam the laptop shut with unnecessary force.
Instead, a folder caught his eye. Pine-Garrett.
Before Zach could think better of it - and hell, these were his clients, he was allowed to look - he double-clicked and brought up a set of a hundred or so photos.
Zach didn’t even hear his own pathetic whimper as he flicked through the shots and saw only Chris. Jesus Christ, the man was photogenic. Of course, this was nothing compared to him in the flesh - don’t think about the freckles, dammit - but Joe had captured the life and laughter in his eyes exquisitely.
All Zach could think was that the breathless delight on Chris’ face was due to him. Okay, Zach had been acting like a complete fool in some regrettable need for the spotlight, but that didn’t discount the fact that Beau never made Chris laugh like that.
“Fuck,” Zach said and mashed at the keyboard in frustration. A photo popped up at random, and Zach could only gape.
Chris’ body was angled away from the giggling Beau, his attention focused over Joe’s shoulder - Zach’s direction. The camera had captured every detail. Chris’ lips were pink and sober, slightly parted to reveal the gap in his lower teeth that Zach desperately wished his could slide his tongue over. The apples of his cheeks were rosy from laughter, and his eyes - his eyes gave Zach further pause.
The pupils were blown wide and black, eclipsing the vibrant blue. The expression was unmistakable - Chris wanted something, someone.
Him.
“Oh fucking fuck,” Zach whispered and shut the laptop quickly. In his haste to stand and pace he nearly knocked the computer to the floor. “You hate me, don’t you God?” Zach asked the ceiling.
This couldn’t be unseen. No possible way Zach could forget this.
Chris was - or at least, had been at the time of that photo - attracted to him. That was - yeah, that was obvious. Either that, or Chris had just been incredibly hungry for a cheeseburger.
Zach whined and stomped out of the studio and into the front room, disregarding the racket he produced. Joe was on a date and likely wouldn’t be home for the night, and even Noah appeared disinterested in Zach’s abject horror of this revelation.
Because what could he really do? Nothing, that was what!
There was absolutely zilch he could do but sit around and know. Thank goodness Chris and Beau were getting married in two months. Zach was at the end of his frayed rope.
Or, hell - was that the right way to think? As Chris’ friend, was it part of Zach’s responsibility to ask Chris if he was honestly ready for the long haul with Beau?
Beau, whom Zach was mostly certain was being placated and coddled by a gay man with a guilty streak a mile long. It was impossible to tell what Chris felt for her - he was so damn closeted about the entire subject unless it was forced upon him.
So - what? What was Zach’s role in all of this? Was he meant to play it passive or aggressive?
Zach was about to fling himself on the couch when a rapid knock at the door had him flinching and glaring down the adjacent hall. Perhaps he could just ignore it - get some Ben & Jerry’s from the freezer and put himself into a cookie dough coma.
The insistent rapping of knuckle to wood had Zach gritting his teeth as he stalked down the corridor to the front door. He yanked it open and prepared to send whoever it was away -
Until Zach found himself staring at Chris’ reddened face. Zach’s hand clenched around the doorknob, his chest following suit as it tightened painfully around his heart.
“Chris, uh -”
“Can I come in?” Chris asked breathlessly, as if he’d run from his home to Zach’s.
“Um, yes - yeah, of course,” Zach said warily and stepped back into the hall.
Chris flicked an uncertain look to Zach, as if he’d expected to be turned away at the door. He swallowed and nodded curtly, whisking past Zach and down the hall. Chris left behind the musky scent of the Camels he smoked when Beau wasn’t around and the sharp, clean scent of citrus soap.
Zach shut the door and quickly followed in Chris’ wake, refusing to let himself wring his wrists or fiddle with the zipper of his hoodie or drag at his too-long hair.
“Do you want a drink or anything - a beer?”
“What?” Chris turned to stare at Zach and licked his lips. “Um, sure.”
Zach slunk away to the kitchen, hoping for a moment to bring his brain up to speed with what was going on here. Chris was clearly perturbed about something, and Zach knew better than to wing a guess as to what. In Zach’s limited experience, Chris seemed to carry a lot inside him, and rarely let it go. Zach wouldn’t even begin to fathom what this was about.
With a sigh, Zach grabbed two Coronas by the neck and turned to let the door shut beh-
Chris stood before him with a pretty little frown on his lips, sandwiched between the counter island and Zach. Zach nearly dropped the bottles as he slapped his free hand to his heart in alarm.
“Fuck, Chris! We need to get a bell for yo-mmf.”
Warm, smooth palms cradled Zach’s cheeks, and Chris’ hot mouth latched onto his with wet desperation. Zach’s cry of surprise was muffled by the roaring in his ears and Chris’ insistent lips. Zach didn’t move forward or back, but remained prone and yielding to the fingertips that dug into his tingling scalp, the jut of hips and the cold, hard belt buckle against his belly.
Zach opened for him, his mouth welcoming that hot, desperate invasion as he went pliant and malleable against the weight of Chris’ body. Chris was making these frenzied little mewling noises at the back of his throat as his tongue curled slick and quick around Zach’s - and it was just nearly enough to bring him to his knees.
“God,” Chris rasped between staggered breaths and open-mouthed kisses, his voice punchy and dark, “What you - do t’me -“
Now he was more nuzzling their lips together than anything as he cupped the back of Zach’s head and pulled him in close. The small act of affection had Zach literally yelping and physically throwing himself back against the refrigerator. His mouth tingled and his skin buzzed with the echo of Chris’ skin on his own. Chris’ heady scent and warm, welcoming taste clouded his senses as Zach plastered himself as far from Chris as he could.
“No, oh no no no. This isn’t - we aren’t - you need to leave,” Zach said, rambling as he kept as much distance as he could from those big, distressed eyes. Zach’s fingers were going numb from the beer bottles in his hand. Too soon the chill was creeping up his arm and the dousing the flames that had spread.
Chris was frozen in place, encased in shock with his gaze zipping over Zach’s face and lips and body without rhyme or reason. He looked stuck, unable to react in any other way but mind-numbing panic.
Zach was experiencing the opposite.
“What the fuck are you thinking, Chris? You’re wedding is practically around the corner and you’ve been pressing the friendship thing - which was good, fine, great. That’s how it should be. I was going to do my job like a fucking professional. And now this? I don’t even know what this is! I didn’t think that you - that I...”
“Zach,” Chris said, sounding fucked and sandpapery. “I’m so sorry. This is just - with you I feel -”
“You didn’t mean it.” Zach wanted to put his hands on Chris’ shoulders and shake him, but he knew he hadn’t built up the willpower to touch him just yet. He was still scraped thin and raw.
Zach carefully moved forward and reached past Chris, placing the beer bottles on the counter beside him. He stepped back, met Chris’ eyes levelly, and tried to keep his head - or find it in the first place. It may have exploded a couple of minutes earlier.
Chris was a passionate man. Beneath the pristine layers and perfect smile and the awful shoes was someone who felt deeply and powerfully -and had, on other occasions, blatantly admitted to easily giving up his heart. Zach couldn’t allow himself to think past these facts, because they were the only thing keeping him from dragging Chris to the floor and having his way with him.
God, he was an awful person, wasn’t he?
Zach inhaled a painful breath, his lungs feeling stuffed with cotton. “Look, we both know you love Beau. That’s why you’re marrying her. And this... this is you being terrified. Nothing more. I get it, I do,” Zach lied. He wasn’t a home-wrecker, and whatever connection they felt couldn’t be worth hurting an innocent person.
Chris was just standing there like a striking statue carved of stone. “I just - I needed to know before -”
How was Zach supposed to collect his thoughts when Chris was gaping at him with eclipsed pupils and kiss-bruised lips? The guy had essentially thrown himself at Zach in what could only be described as a fit of pre-marital insanity - and shit, it had been tempting to relent. To drown in those eyes and fist that silly fuzzy hair in his hands and bury himse -
Um. Okay.
So where did that leave them now, Zach wondered. It felt as if the next words spoken would set the tone for the rest of their relationship. But what could even be said? What had Chris been expecting here in the first place?
Despite Zach’s very best interests, he found himself asking, “Why?”
Chris took a step in retreat, but bumped against the countertop. He reached back and gripped the edge with white-knuckled fingers, like a lifeline. A large turquoise ring that could barely rival Chris’ eye colour glinted dully.
Chris swiped his tongue over his chapped lips. “I’m not - I’m not a strong person, Zach.”
“I disagree,” Zach said with a frown.
Chris was far from perfect, but who wasn’t? Zach had witnessed firsthand the times which Chris put Beau first, just out of thoughtfulness. He knew how Chris tried to please everyone, even if it could make him miserable. Zach saw a man who’d had one bone-breaking fall after another, and just kept getting back on that horse with as much effort as it took.
Basically, he saw a guy who was just another guy. Someone who happened to follow his instincts a bit blindly, but that was just the way of it.
“Well, that’s nice, but you’re wrong,” Chris said with a weak smile. “I don’t... I get something - someone - lodged in my head and I can’t release. I don’t even know when or how it happened that I -”
Chris clammed up, as Zach had known he was bound to. Chris had reached his monthly quota of communication, and Zach couldn’t blame him. This level of self-expression could ruin them both - especially considering what Chris’ words were doing to Zach’s insides. To his heart.
Zach looked to the floor, because he couldn’t speak to Chris’ face. Not without grabbing him and kissing every frown line on his forehead.
“You need to go.” Don’t go. “Curiosity is officially sated.”
He was shocked that he didn’t choke on his own words, or collapse at Chris’ feet in apology. Beg him to run away to Hawaii, where they could live on the beach and both get awful sunburns while they drank super-gay umbrella cocktails.
Instead he folded his arms across his chest, stared down Chris, and bit his own tongue - hard.
Zach was upset. Frustrated with the both of them. That Chris couldn’t keep it in his pants and that Zach hadn’t wanted him to.
Just what brand of asshole was he? The worst kind, probably. Zach could teach a class at the Asshole Academy. Because at the end of the day it didn’t matter what Chris did, or how he acted - what mattered was how Zach reacted and handled the situation. How he handled himself.
Right now he was doing a pretty piss-poor job of it.
Chris regarded him with guarded, glistening eyes that gave nothing away - and for once Zach was glad for it. He didn’t want to know what Chris was thinking, what he was feeling. That wasn’t his business. That wasn’t his job.
Without a word, Chris turned on his heel and marched out of the room. He didn’t look angry or upset - he didn’t look like anything. At least, from what Zach could tell from the back of his head. He sure as hell wasn’t seeing Chris out.
The door closed quietly in the hallway, the click of the lock like a gunshot to Zach’s ears.
Zach finally allowed his wobbly knees to give out. He slid down the fridge to the cold, hard tile and dropped his head in his hands.
“Fuck.”
***
There were no more calls, no more texts, no random meet-ups, and especially no Chris at the final planning appointments.
Zach knew he should feel relieved. That he should be at ease now that he had no temptation dangled under his nose day in and out. He should be glad that his life’s largest inconvenience had been swept away, and that he’d acted like an adult about it - as best he could, but come on, this was Zach.
Instead he was a miserable, grumpy bastard.
Well, inwardly. Zach happened to be a fabulous actor. He could carry a veneer of cheerful, helpful wedding planner without much difficulty. But that didn’t change the fact that he just wanted to tell the fat bride that she looked fat, and the oblivious husband that her skinny-bitch wife was cheating on him, and that lilies were flowers you used at funerals, not weddings.
Okay, so Zach was an asshole. That wasn’t a news bulletin. What concerned him was how near the surface his emotions lingered, and how easily he felt his temper flaring these days.
But fuck, his heart hurt. And the worst part? He deserved it. Zach very rarely felt that he deserved any nasty shit that came his way - because he was clearly a flawless guy like that. This time though, he totally had it coming.
“So that’s us basically finished,” Zach said as he clapped shut Beau’s wedding binder and slid it across his desk. He’d recently begun to move his meetings with her to more serious locations rather than coming to her house, or she to his, or going to LAMILL. Things were simpler this way, and Zach could keep his business face on rather than his bitch face.
Beau took the binder and held it to her chest like it was a precious thing. She smiled brightly. “I can’t believe the date’s just around the corner. You’ll be at the rehearsal dinner, won’t you?”
“Ah.” Zach scratched his head, his smile wavering. “I don’t really attend those things. They’re not really my style.”
Beau waved him off with a flippant flick of the wrist. “Don’t be silly. You like food, you like us, you like Chris’ family. What’s not your style?”
Fucking your fiancé in the bathroom?
“Romance,” Zach said. “Can’t stomach that shit, darling.”
“You’re such a liar,” Beau said with a laugh.
Zach held his hands up in innocence as he leaned back in his seat. “No lie! Someone once gave me flowers on a date and they burst into flames when I touched them.”
“You probably held them over a candle.”
“You are a ruiner of things.”
Beau raised a perfect eyebrow. “You’re going.”
Zach swallowed tightly and forced a smile that might just break his face and give him wrinkles in the future. “I’m going.”
***
“Zach, get your tiny ass over here!” Katie Pine said with a severe lack of an indoor voice as she waved at him from across the restaurant.
Zach crossed the dining floor that had been rented out for the large get-together of family and friends with a smile on his face. Dammit, he loved this chick.
“Katie!” Zach went for air-kisses, but ended up in a rib-cracking hug that he couldn’t help but return. They pulled apart and grinned at each other like old friends. “I’m glad I came now.”
“Shit’s boring, isn’t it?” Katie said without malice as she tugged Zach’s wrist and led him to one of the circular tables. “We can sit wherever today, unlike the actual wedding reception, so you’re sitting by me and my man. Anything to keep away the creepy relatives whose names escape me. You look good, by the way. You work a suit better than cut-offs, that’s for sure.”
“Hey,” Zach said with a laugh. “I’m not sure if I’m insulted or complimented.”
Katie winked as she settled into her seat. “I like to keep my men on their feet.”
“Hm, last time I checked I belonged to the Pine-Garrett party who hired me. Or at the very least, Madonna.”
Before Katie could reply, there was a chorus of greetings from around the tables, and Zach looked up to see Chris and Beau entering the restaurant. They were all smiles and waves and gorgeous clothes, and Chris had this closely-shaved beard that looked fucking delectable.
Zach could’ve sworn he’d been punched in the stomach. He’d honestly assumed it wouldn’t be like this. He didn’t think he would experience this choking swell of regret and longing in the same breath. He didn’t think he’d immediately flash back to that frenzied kiss in the kitchen.
But there it was, that humid thickness in the back of Zach’s throat that allowed him a weak smile as Chris and Beau sat across from him at the table.
Well, fuck his life. Fuck his life up the ass.
“Zach,” Beau said as she leaned across Chris’ lap. Chris looked down and away, his cheeks pink. “Thanks for coming.”
Zach smiled tightly. “I don’t remember having a choice.”
Beau blinked for a moment, then laughed as if she’d decided Zach was kidding.
Zach managed to avoid all contact with Chris for the first half of dinner, which was easier than he’d anticipated, due to Katie’s constant chatter. Unfortunately it was all down to her that he had to eventually acknowledge Chris’ existence, and vice versa.
“So, Princess,” Katie began as she propped her elbows upon the table and tilted forward. “What’s it feel like to be the future Mr. Beau Garrett?”
Chris’ cheeks coloured, but he merely gave a good-natured grin. “How’s your endeavour into the future as a crazy cat lady? How many is it now, seven?”
“Six, but after the third one you don’t even notice the change. Anyway, not everyone is as disdainful of cats as you. Zach, you like cats, right?”
Zach looked up from his plate, where he’d been trying to look busy scooting his food around. He and Chris locked eyes for the first time that night, and it was Zach who dropped his gaze and willed away a blush. He wasn’t going to be that obvious.
“I love all nature’s creatures as long as there’s a vacuum and cleaning supplies at hand. Chris liked my cat.”
Ugh, Zach didn’t know why he’d said that last part.
Katie perked up as she smirked at Chris. “Did you?”
“Zach’s cat isn’t as obnoxious as yours. Cats like yours should be institutionalised.”
“You’re such a cat bigot. Zach, isn’t he a cat bigot?”
Zach couldn’t help that his lips curved - he couldn’t help that he looked to Chris and found the smile nervously mirrored, all perfect and stupidly white. “I can’t talk. I’m a bigot regarding overalls. Anyone over the age of five who wears overalls is someone with whom I can’t associate.”
At that point Chris’ mother called away her son’s attention, and Zach was free for a time.
By dessert, Zach needed to breathe. Watching Chris do an excellent job at pretending like nothing had happened was a huge relief, as well as incredibly perturbing. Zach excused himself quietly to Katie and stood, making a hasty exit.
He burst from the front doors and rounded the building, slinking into the side alley beside the restaurant. He slumped against the brick wall with a sigh, and watched as the sunset licked at his feet in puddles of orange and pink.
Moments like these made Zach wish he still smoked. Who really needed their health, anyway?
The crunch of shoes on gritty pavement had Zach’s attention snapping toward the alley entrance. His heard stopped.
Chris stood in the sunlight with his bright stare bent on him. Zach inclined his chin in recognition. Chris seemed to take that as assent, because he slipped his hands in the pockets of his slim, dove grey slacks and meandered over.
Zach wasn’t beyond the humour that they both wore suits in shades of grey. The only difference being Chris’ robin’s egg blue shirt and Zach’s plum one. They practically matched - in more ways than one, an annoying voice reminded him.
Zach was painfully aware of Chris leaning against the wall not a half foot away, with his hips jutted out and his shoulders back. Zach’s body was buzzing with a restraint he wasn’t used to instilling upon himself. Not since he met Chris.
The scrape and fizz of a lighter flaring up alerted Zach to the hollowing of Chris’ unshaven cheeks as he took a long suck on a cigarette. A ribbon of blue smoke shot from his flared nostrils as he shifted to offer Zach a puff.
Zach stared at Chris’ fingers and the cigarette that nestled in the pale vee. “This a truce?”
Chris was staring at the opposite wall. “Yeah.”
Zach nodded faintly and accepted the cigarette, plucked it from Chris’ fingers without brushing skin. He took a long drag and blew it to the sky. He didn’t look to his side as he passed off the dwindling smoke. “Nice beard, by the way.”
“Yeah? Not sure Beau appreciates the burn.”
Zach absolutely didn’t think of how he’d love that stubble burning rashes into his thighs, his ass, his neck. Totally didn’t imagine how he’d give just about anything to be rubbed raw and sensitive by that dusky beard.
“You should keep it for the wedding. Then when you’re old and look back on the photos, you’ll think, ‘hey, I look younger now. I age so gracefully’.”
“Are you saying I look old?”
“Mature. There’s a difference. I wouldn’t worry, anyway. I’m sure you’ll age like George Clooney or something.”
“I’ve always wanted to be George Clooney.”
“Well there you go, everybody wins.”
Zach didn’t feel very much like a winner, but at least there was this small victory, this delicate truce. This recommencement.
“You should go,” Zach said. One of his hands pressed back against the brick, his fingertips digging into the hard, grainy surface. “Wouldn’t want to miss the speeches.”
Chris groaned in a way that shot straight to Zach’s dick. From the corner of Zach’s vision, he could see the cigarette clinging precariously to Chris’ full bottom lip as he spoke. “I hate speeches.”
Zach huffed a laugh and nabbed the stubby smoke from Chris’ mouth. The pad of his thumb brushed Chris’ warm, pink bottom lip, and Zach knew he was going to hell on the express lane.
“Same,” he said, and puffed the cherry down to the filter. “S’why I’m out here, obviously.”
“I’d say I’m sorry that Beau made you come, but I’d be lying.”
“You can lie,” Zach said quietly. “In fact, I encourage it. See you inside.”
Zach tossed the cigarette to the pavement as he walked away.
***
NEXT
your texts are always so eloquent. hi. what are you upto
I try. Playing Resident Evil on the Wii. You?
paying my mortgage. ironing out details of client wedding tomorrow. you know, adult things. unlike some people
Beau is away on a girl’s weekend or something equally estrogen-related. And you’re just jealous that I got 15 headshots in a row while you’re working.
there is some insinuation to be said about head but i’ll take the high road on this occasion
First time for everything.
youre so hilarious how do i resist you
No idea.
So, you’ve been working a lot.
i tend to do that. to clothe and feed myself and galvanise my porn addiction. the usual suspects
I haven’t seen you in a while.
you saw me last week for the tux fitting
Yeah, but we didn’t really get to hang out or talk or anything. Not since that day.
i feel like it needs to be capitalised for added drama. That Day. it’s fine chris. things have just been busy. everybody loves a spring wedding apparently
You’re not avoiding me?
of course not why would i
I thought maybe you’d be apprehensive about my... extra inclinations and think I was going to hit on you or something.
i would never expect that from you. no worries
Oh. Good.
So you’ve really just been busy?
im just trying to respect you and beaus relationship. i dont want to make her needlessly traumatised so close to the big day
I guess that makes sense.
i can be a very sensible person if i put my mind to it
I appreciate nonsensical Zach too.
hes not going anywhere either dont you fret
So, do you want to hang out this weekend?
wedding no can do
Oh, right. Next week?
ill let you know when my schedule opens up
Okay. Good night, Zach.
***
When in doubt, implement avoidance.
Up until three weeks ago, Zach would have considered Chris to be a fairly mild-mannered, easy-going guy. Now, not so much.
Every time Zach rejected Chris’ requests for just the two of them to hang out, it seemed like Chris only became more insistent. The guy was genuinely invested in keeping this friendshipthing going.
And while Zach wanted the same - okay, the same with added sex and making out, and possibly something involving chocolate - it was just too difficult. It was hard to be at ease with Chris when Zach had to be careful, had the balance of the Pine-Garrett engagement resting on whether his hand accidentally slipped over Chris’ knee.
A man only had so much self-control.
During the times in which Zach was required to meet with the couple and secretly pine in Chris’ presence, Beau was always there, and the three of them would be finalising the wedding plans that were just around the corner. Zach remained playful with Beau and cordial with Chris, careful not to let an overly-flirtatious word slip.
Beau began to monitor them less and less carefully, but Zach felt her watchful gaze on the back of his head anyway.
The culmination of Zach’s skilful circumvention of the dangerous and unintentionally charming Chris Pine was Zach sitting alone with his brother’s laptop on a Saturday night. He sighed and idly clicked through proofs of his most recently completed wedding. It always brought him a sense of swelling warmth to see his client’s happy faces, and to give himself a pat on the back for a job well done.
But tonight, the photos just didn’t bring him that sense of fulfilment. Zach had gotten off the phone with Chris not twenty minutes ago, having declined the offer to watch an Audrey Hepburn marathon on AMC together. And dammit, he really liked Breakfast at Tiffany’s, too.
Zach allowed himself a dramatic groan of frustration as he clicked away from the Barshney-White couple, preparing to slam the laptop shut with unnecessary force.
Instead, a folder caught his eye. Pine-Garrett.
Before Zach could think better of it - and hell, these were his clients, he was allowed to look - he double-clicked and brought up a set of a hundred or so photos.
Zach didn’t even hear his own pathetic whimper as he flicked through the shots and saw only Chris. Jesus Christ, the man was photogenic. Of course, this was nothing compared to him in the flesh - don’t think about the freckles, dammit - but Joe had captured the life and laughter in his eyes exquisitely.
All Zach could think was that the breathless delight on Chris’ face was due to him. Okay, Zach had been acting like a complete fool in some regrettable need for the spotlight, but that didn’t discount the fact that Beau never made Chris laugh like that.
“Fuck,” Zach said and mashed at the keyboard in frustration. A photo popped up at random, and Zach could only gape.
Chris’ body was angled away from the giggling Beau, his attention focused over Joe’s shoulder - Zach’s direction. The camera had captured every detail. Chris’ lips were pink and sober, slightly parted to reveal the gap in his lower teeth that Zach desperately wished his could slide his tongue over. The apples of his cheeks were rosy from laughter, and his eyes - his eyes gave Zach further pause.
The pupils were blown wide and black, eclipsing the vibrant blue. The expression was unmistakable - Chris wanted something, someone.
Him.
“Oh fucking fuck,” Zach whispered and shut the laptop quickly. In his haste to stand and pace he nearly knocked the computer to the floor. “You hate me, don’t you God?” Zach asked the ceiling.
This couldn’t be unseen. No possible way Zach could forget this.
Chris was - or at least, had been at the time of that photo - attracted to him. That was - yeah, that was obvious. Either that, or Chris had just been incredibly hungry for a cheeseburger.
Zach whined and stomped out of the studio and into the front room, disregarding the racket he produced. Joe was on a date and likely wouldn’t be home for the night, and even Noah appeared disinterested in Zach’s abject horror of this revelation.
Because what could he really do? Nothing, that was what!
There was absolutely zilch he could do but sit around and know. Thank goodness Chris and Beau were getting married in two months. Zach was at the end of his frayed rope.
Or, hell - was that the right way to think? As Chris’ friend, was it part of Zach’s responsibility to ask Chris if he was honestly ready for the long haul with Beau?
Beau, whom Zach was mostly certain was being placated and coddled by a gay man with a guilty streak a mile long. It was impossible to tell what Chris felt for her - he was so damn closeted about the entire subject unless it was forced upon him.
So - what? What was Zach’s role in all of this? Was he meant to play it passive or aggressive?
Zach was about to fling himself on the couch when a rapid knock at the door had him flinching and glaring down the adjacent hall. Perhaps he could just ignore it - get some Ben & Jerry’s from the freezer and put himself into a cookie dough coma.
The insistent rapping of knuckle to wood had Zach gritting his teeth as he stalked down the corridor to the front door. He yanked it open and prepared to send whoever it was away -
Until Zach found himself staring at Chris’ reddened face. Zach’s hand clenched around the doorknob, his chest following suit as it tightened painfully around his heart.
“Chris, uh -”
“Can I come in?” Chris asked breathlessly, as if he’d run from his home to Zach’s.
“Um, yes - yeah, of course,” Zach said warily and stepped back into the hall.
Chris flicked an uncertain look to Zach, as if he’d expected to be turned away at the door. He swallowed and nodded curtly, whisking past Zach and down the hall. Chris left behind the musky scent of the Camels he smoked when Beau wasn’t around and the sharp, clean scent of citrus soap.
Zach shut the door and quickly followed in Chris’ wake, refusing to let himself wring his wrists or fiddle with the zipper of his hoodie or drag at his too-long hair.
“Do you want a drink or anything - a beer?”
“What?” Chris turned to stare at Zach and licked his lips. “Um, sure.”
Zach slunk away to the kitchen, hoping for a moment to bring his brain up to speed with what was going on here. Chris was clearly perturbed about something, and Zach knew better than to wing a guess as to what. In Zach’s limited experience, Chris seemed to carry a lot inside him, and rarely let it go. Zach wouldn’t even begin to fathom what this was about.
With a sigh, Zach grabbed two Coronas by the neck and turned to let the door shut beh-
Chris stood before him with a pretty little frown on his lips, sandwiched between the counter island and Zach. Zach nearly dropped the bottles as he slapped his free hand to his heart in alarm.
“Fuck, Chris! We need to get a bell for yo-mmf.”
Warm, smooth palms cradled Zach’s cheeks, and Chris’ hot mouth latched onto his with wet desperation. Zach’s cry of surprise was muffled by the roaring in his ears and Chris’ insistent lips. Zach didn’t move forward or back, but remained prone and yielding to the fingertips that dug into his tingling scalp, the jut of hips and the cold, hard belt buckle against his belly.
Zach opened for him, his mouth welcoming that hot, desperate invasion as he went pliant and malleable against the weight of Chris’ body. Chris was making these frenzied little mewling noises at the back of his throat as his tongue curled slick and quick around Zach’s - and it was just nearly enough to bring him to his knees.
“God,” Chris rasped between staggered breaths and open-mouthed kisses, his voice punchy and dark, “What you - do t’me -“
Now he was more nuzzling their lips together than anything as he cupped the back of Zach’s head and pulled him in close. The small act of affection had Zach literally yelping and physically throwing himself back against the refrigerator. His mouth tingled and his skin buzzed with the echo of Chris’ skin on his own. Chris’ heady scent and warm, welcoming taste clouded his senses as Zach plastered himself as far from Chris as he could.
“No, oh no no no. This isn’t - we aren’t - you need to leave,” Zach said, rambling as he kept as much distance as he could from those big, distressed eyes. Zach’s fingers were going numb from the beer bottles in his hand. Too soon the chill was creeping up his arm and the dousing the flames that had spread.
Chris was frozen in place, encased in shock with his gaze zipping over Zach’s face and lips and body without rhyme or reason. He looked stuck, unable to react in any other way but mind-numbing panic.
Zach was experiencing the opposite.
“What the fuck are you thinking, Chris? You’re wedding is practically around the corner and you’ve been pressing the friendship thing - which was good, fine, great. That’s how it should be. I was going to do my job like a fucking professional. And now this? I don’t even know what this is! I didn’t think that you - that I...”
“Zach,” Chris said, sounding fucked and sandpapery. “I’m so sorry. This is just - with you I feel -”
“You didn’t mean it.” Zach wanted to put his hands on Chris’ shoulders and shake him, but he knew he hadn’t built up the willpower to touch him just yet. He was still scraped thin and raw.
Zach carefully moved forward and reached past Chris, placing the beer bottles on the counter beside him. He stepped back, met Chris’ eyes levelly, and tried to keep his head - or find it in the first place. It may have exploded a couple of minutes earlier.
Chris was a passionate man. Beneath the pristine layers and perfect smile and the awful shoes was someone who felt deeply and powerfully -and had, on other occasions, blatantly admitted to easily giving up his heart. Zach couldn’t allow himself to think past these facts, because they were the only thing keeping him from dragging Chris to the floor and having his way with him.
God, he was an awful person, wasn’t he?
Zach inhaled a painful breath, his lungs feeling stuffed with cotton. “Look, we both know you love Beau. That’s why you’re marrying her. And this... this is you being terrified. Nothing more. I get it, I do,” Zach lied. He wasn’t a home-wrecker, and whatever connection they felt couldn’t be worth hurting an innocent person.
Chris was just standing there like a striking statue carved of stone. “I just - I needed to know before -”
How was Zach supposed to collect his thoughts when Chris was gaping at him with eclipsed pupils and kiss-bruised lips? The guy had essentially thrown himself at Zach in what could only be described as a fit of pre-marital insanity - and shit, it had been tempting to relent. To drown in those eyes and fist that silly fuzzy hair in his hands and bury himse -
Um. Okay.
So where did that leave them now, Zach wondered. It felt as if the next words spoken would set the tone for the rest of their relationship. But what could even be said? What had Chris been expecting here in the first place?
Despite Zach’s very best interests, he found himself asking, “Why?”
Chris took a step in retreat, but bumped against the countertop. He reached back and gripped the edge with white-knuckled fingers, like a lifeline. A large turquoise ring that could barely rival Chris’ eye colour glinted dully.
Chris swiped his tongue over his chapped lips. “I’m not - I’m not a strong person, Zach.”
“I disagree,” Zach said with a frown.
Chris was far from perfect, but who wasn’t? Zach had witnessed firsthand the times which Chris put Beau first, just out of thoughtfulness. He knew how Chris tried to please everyone, even if it could make him miserable. Zach saw a man who’d had one bone-breaking fall after another, and just kept getting back on that horse with as much effort as it took.
Basically, he saw a guy who was just another guy. Someone who happened to follow his instincts a bit blindly, but that was just the way of it.
“Well, that’s nice, but you’re wrong,” Chris said with a weak smile. “I don’t... I get something - someone - lodged in my head and I can’t release. I don’t even know when or how it happened that I -”
Chris clammed up, as Zach had known he was bound to. Chris had reached his monthly quota of communication, and Zach couldn’t blame him. This level of self-expression could ruin them both - especially considering what Chris’ words were doing to Zach’s insides. To his heart.
Zach looked to the floor, because he couldn’t speak to Chris’ face. Not without grabbing him and kissing every frown line on his forehead.
“You need to go.” Don’t go. “Curiosity is officially sated.”
He was shocked that he didn’t choke on his own words, or collapse at Chris’ feet in apology. Beg him to run away to Hawaii, where they could live on the beach and both get awful sunburns while they drank super-gay umbrella cocktails.
Instead he folded his arms across his chest, stared down Chris, and bit his own tongue - hard.
Zach was upset. Frustrated with the both of them. That Chris couldn’t keep it in his pants and that Zach hadn’t wanted him to.
Just what brand of asshole was he? The worst kind, probably. Zach could teach a class at the Asshole Academy. Because at the end of the day it didn’t matter what Chris did, or how he acted - what mattered was how Zach reacted and handled the situation. How he handled himself.
Right now he was doing a pretty piss-poor job of it.
Chris regarded him with guarded, glistening eyes that gave nothing away - and for once Zach was glad for it. He didn’t want to know what Chris was thinking, what he was feeling. That wasn’t his business. That wasn’t his job.
Without a word, Chris turned on his heel and marched out of the room. He didn’t look angry or upset - he didn’t look like anything. At least, from what Zach could tell from the back of his head. He sure as hell wasn’t seeing Chris out.
The door closed quietly in the hallway, the click of the lock like a gunshot to Zach’s ears.
Zach finally allowed his wobbly knees to give out. He slid down the fridge to the cold, hard tile and dropped his head in his hands.
“Fuck.”
***
There were no more calls, no more texts, no random meet-ups, and especially no Chris at the final planning appointments.
Zach knew he should feel relieved. That he should be at ease now that he had no temptation dangled under his nose day in and out. He should be glad that his life’s largest inconvenience had been swept away, and that he’d acted like an adult about it - as best he could, but come on, this was Zach.
Instead he was a miserable, grumpy bastard.
Well, inwardly. Zach happened to be a fabulous actor. He could carry a veneer of cheerful, helpful wedding planner without much difficulty. But that didn’t change the fact that he just wanted to tell the fat bride that she looked fat, and the oblivious husband that her skinny-bitch wife was cheating on him, and that lilies were flowers you used at funerals, not weddings.
Okay, so Zach was an asshole. That wasn’t a news bulletin. What concerned him was how near the surface his emotions lingered, and how easily he felt his temper flaring these days.
But fuck, his heart hurt. And the worst part? He deserved it. Zach very rarely felt that he deserved any nasty shit that came his way - because he was clearly a flawless guy like that. This time though, he totally had it coming.
“So that’s us basically finished,” Zach said as he clapped shut Beau’s wedding binder and slid it across his desk. He’d recently begun to move his meetings with her to more serious locations rather than coming to her house, or she to his, or going to LAMILL. Things were simpler this way, and Zach could keep his business face on rather than his bitch face.
Beau took the binder and held it to her chest like it was a precious thing. She smiled brightly. “I can’t believe the date’s just around the corner. You’ll be at the rehearsal dinner, won’t you?”
“Ah.” Zach scratched his head, his smile wavering. “I don’t really attend those things. They’re not really my style.”
Beau waved him off with a flippant flick of the wrist. “Don’t be silly. You like food, you like us, you like Chris’ family. What’s not your style?”
Fucking your fiancé in the bathroom?
“Romance,” Zach said. “Can’t stomach that shit, darling.”
“You’re such a liar,” Beau said with a laugh.
Zach held his hands up in innocence as he leaned back in his seat. “No lie! Someone once gave me flowers on a date and they burst into flames when I touched them.”
“You probably held them over a candle.”
“You are a ruiner of things.”
Beau raised a perfect eyebrow. “You’re going.”
Zach swallowed tightly and forced a smile that might just break his face and give him wrinkles in the future. “I’m going.”
***
“Zach, get your tiny ass over here!” Katie Pine said with a severe lack of an indoor voice as she waved at him from across the restaurant.
Zach crossed the dining floor that had been rented out for the large get-together of family and friends with a smile on his face. Dammit, he loved this chick.
“Katie!” Zach went for air-kisses, but ended up in a rib-cracking hug that he couldn’t help but return. They pulled apart and grinned at each other like old friends. “I’m glad I came now.”
“Shit’s boring, isn’t it?” Katie said without malice as she tugged Zach’s wrist and led him to one of the circular tables. “We can sit wherever today, unlike the actual wedding reception, so you’re sitting by me and my man. Anything to keep away the creepy relatives whose names escape me. You look good, by the way. You work a suit better than cut-offs, that’s for sure.”
“Hey,” Zach said with a laugh. “I’m not sure if I’m insulted or complimented.”
Katie winked as she settled into her seat. “I like to keep my men on their feet.”
“Hm, last time I checked I belonged to the Pine-Garrett party who hired me. Or at the very least, Madonna.”
Before Katie could reply, there was a chorus of greetings from around the tables, and Zach looked up to see Chris and Beau entering the restaurant. They were all smiles and waves and gorgeous clothes, and Chris had this closely-shaved beard that looked fucking delectable.
Zach could’ve sworn he’d been punched in the stomach. He’d honestly assumed it wouldn’t be like this. He didn’t think he would experience this choking swell of regret and longing in the same breath. He didn’t think he’d immediately flash back to that frenzied kiss in the kitchen.
But there it was, that humid thickness in the back of Zach’s throat that allowed him a weak smile as Chris and Beau sat across from him at the table.
Well, fuck his life. Fuck his life up the ass.
“Zach,” Beau said as she leaned across Chris’ lap. Chris looked down and away, his cheeks pink. “Thanks for coming.”
Zach smiled tightly. “I don’t remember having a choice.”
Beau blinked for a moment, then laughed as if she’d decided Zach was kidding.
Zach managed to avoid all contact with Chris for the first half of dinner, which was easier than he’d anticipated, due to Katie’s constant chatter. Unfortunately it was all down to her that he had to eventually acknowledge Chris’ existence, and vice versa.
“So, Princess,” Katie began as she propped her elbows upon the table and tilted forward. “What’s it feel like to be the future Mr. Beau Garrett?”
Chris’ cheeks coloured, but he merely gave a good-natured grin. “How’s your endeavour into the future as a crazy cat lady? How many is it now, seven?”
“Six, but after the third one you don’t even notice the change. Anyway, not everyone is as disdainful of cats as you. Zach, you like cats, right?”
Zach looked up from his plate, where he’d been trying to look busy scooting his food around. He and Chris locked eyes for the first time that night, and it was Zach who dropped his gaze and willed away a blush. He wasn’t going to be that obvious.
“I love all nature’s creatures as long as there’s a vacuum and cleaning supplies at hand. Chris liked my cat.”
Ugh, Zach didn’t know why he’d said that last part.
Katie perked up as she smirked at Chris. “Did you?”
“Zach’s cat isn’t as obnoxious as yours. Cats like yours should be institutionalised.”
“You’re such a cat bigot. Zach, isn’t he a cat bigot?”
Zach couldn’t help that his lips curved - he couldn’t help that he looked to Chris and found the smile nervously mirrored, all perfect and stupidly white. “I can’t talk. I’m a bigot regarding overalls. Anyone over the age of five who wears overalls is someone with whom I can’t associate.”
At that point Chris’ mother called away her son’s attention, and Zach was free for a time.
By dessert, Zach needed to breathe. Watching Chris do an excellent job at pretending like nothing had happened was a huge relief, as well as incredibly perturbing. Zach excused himself quietly to Katie and stood, making a hasty exit.
He burst from the front doors and rounded the building, slinking into the side alley beside the restaurant. He slumped against the brick wall with a sigh, and watched as the sunset licked at his feet in puddles of orange and pink.
Moments like these made Zach wish he still smoked. Who really needed their health, anyway?
The crunch of shoes on gritty pavement had Zach’s attention snapping toward the alley entrance. His heard stopped.
Chris stood in the sunlight with his bright stare bent on him. Zach inclined his chin in recognition. Chris seemed to take that as assent, because he slipped his hands in the pockets of his slim, dove grey slacks and meandered over.
Zach wasn’t beyond the humour that they both wore suits in shades of grey. The only difference being Chris’ robin’s egg blue shirt and Zach’s plum one. They practically matched - in more ways than one, an annoying voice reminded him.
Zach was painfully aware of Chris leaning against the wall not a half foot away, with his hips jutted out and his shoulders back. Zach’s body was buzzing with a restraint he wasn’t used to instilling upon himself. Not since he met Chris.
The scrape and fizz of a lighter flaring up alerted Zach to the hollowing of Chris’ unshaven cheeks as he took a long suck on a cigarette. A ribbon of blue smoke shot from his flared nostrils as he shifted to offer Zach a puff.
Zach stared at Chris’ fingers and the cigarette that nestled in the pale vee. “This a truce?”
Chris was staring at the opposite wall. “Yeah.”
Zach nodded faintly and accepted the cigarette, plucked it from Chris’ fingers without brushing skin. He took a long drag and blew it to the sky. He didn’t look to his side as he passed off the dwindling smoke. “Nice beard, by the way.”
“Yeah? Not sure Beau appreciates the burn.”
Zach absolutely didn’t think of how he’d love that stubble burning rashes into his thighs, his ass, his neck. Totally didn’t imagine how he’d give just about anything to be rubbed raw and sensitive by that dusky beard.
“You should keep it for the wedding. Then when you’re old and look back on the photos, you’ll think, ‘hey, I look younger now. I age so gracefully’.”
“Are you saying I look old?”
“Mature. There’s a difference. I wouldn’t worry, anyway. I’m sure you’ll age like George Clooney or something.”
“I’ve always wanted to be George Clooney.”
“Well there you go, everybody wins.”
Zach didn’t feel very much like a winner, but at least there was this small victory, this delicate truce. This recommencement.
“You should go,” Zach said. One of his hands pressed back against the brick, his fingertips digging into the hard, grainy surface. “Wouldn’t want to miss the speeches.”
Chris groaned in a way that shot straight to Zach’s dick. From the corner of Zach’s vision, he could see the cigarette clinging precariously to Chris’ full bottom lip as he spoke. “I hate speeches.”
Zach huffed a laugh and nabbed the stubby smoke from Chris’ mouth. The pad of his thumb brushed Chris’ warm, pink bottom lip, and Zach knew he was going to hell on the express lane.
“Same,” he said, and puffed the cherry down to the filter. “S’why I’m out here, obviously.”
“I’d say I’m sorry that Beau made you come, but I’d be lying.”
“You can lie,” Zach said quietly. “In fact, I encourage it. See you inside.”
Zach tossed the cigarette to the pavement as he walked away.
***
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