Fidelity | Pinto | R | 1/4
Title: Fidelity
Series: Pinto
Rating: R
Length: ~26,250
Summary: AKA, Zach's Skilful Circumvention of the Dangerous and Unintentionally Charming Chris Pine. Chris is engaged, Zach is his wedding planner, and everyone in the world is an asshole.
Beta: rainbowstrlght
Disclaimer: Somewhere over the slash rainbow of my mind, it happened. But not in Kansas, unfortunately.
“I want everything to be perfect.”
Zach smiled and gave the couple three years, tops.
The Pine-Garrett Party consisted of a perky blonde with a flinty glint in her eye and her slow-to-smile fiancé with a face out of an L.L. Bean catalogue.
“With my help, it will be. Don’t you worry about a thing, Miss Garrett.”
Beau Garrett had spent the past forty-three minutes going through her wedding binder with Zach, while Chris had murmured his assent on the errant ‘don’t you think, babe?’ thrown his way. From the rollercoaster of eyebrow motions from Chris, It had been pretty clear that he hadn’t been aware of half of the plans for their spring wedding.
No surprises there. Zach rarely encountered a groom who was strongly invested in their wedding. Oh sure, they wanted to please their wife-to-be and let them live the dream. But at the end of the day, they just wanted to get that ring on the finger and be done with the entire hassle of pomp and circumstance.
Chris Pine unequivocally fell into that category. The way his bride crisply laid out her colour, music, flower, dress, cake and ceremony preferences left no doubt in Zach’s mind that Chris’ opinion had not been necessary nor given in these choices.
But that was none of Zach’s business. His business was weddings and making them spectacular.
Beau gave a bright little smile and popped up from her seat, leaning forward to collect her belongings from the coffee table. Chris blinked, as if coming out of a dream, and lurched from the couch. He tugged neatly on his suit jacket and aimed a crooked curve of lips Zach’s way.
“Thank you for your time, Mister... Quinto, was it?”
Oh, where have you been, Mr. Christopher Pine?
“Please, call me Zach.”
“Zach.”
Beau eagerly edged into Chris’ space and took Zach’s hand in a warm shake. “Zach, thank you so much. I can’t wait for our next appointment. It’ll be just us two, though. Christopher has work.”
Zach smiled and flicked a glance to Chris, who was already scooting towards the door in that polite get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here way.
“No problem - I can’t wait. I’m looking forward to executing your old Hollywood wedding design.”
And he was. Despite what he might think about the Pine Party’s shelf-life, Beau had something going on with a classy wedding like this. She was a clever girl, he’d give her that much.
While Chris was... no longer in the room.
The tinkling of silver bells above Zach’s door alerted him and Beau to Chris’ retreating back. Beau laughed and rolled her eyes as she slung her purse over her thin shoulder. “Boys will be boys, right?”
“Oh, absolutely. Like I said - don’t needlessly stress yourself. You and I will rock this wedding to the point that even your fiancé will be impressed.”
“Zach, I can already tell that you’re gonna be the best.”
“That makes two of us.”
The high pitch of the door bells matched Beau’s giggle as she waved and saw herself out. Zach found himself grinning after the perky perfectionist and her lacklustre man.
Well, at least he wouldn’t be bored.
***
“Hello?”
“Um, Zach?”
“This is he... Is this Chris?”
“Oh, uh - yeah, sorry. Distracted. Listen, I’m supposed to be calling you about... frlts?”
“Sorry, did you just say something about Fritos?”
“Fairy lights? I think they’re called... stupid name.”
“Fairy lights? What’s stupid about that?”
“Just... why would fairies need lights?”
“They’re called fairy lights because the bulbs are in miniature. Suitable for a fairy.”
“You’d think fairies would use lightning bugs in a jar or something. That seems more logical than finding a socket to plug lights in.”
“I think you’re over-thinking fairy lights, Chris.”
“I think we’re saying ‘fairy’ too much. It’s stopped sounding like a word.”
“Chris... the lights.”
“Oh, right - sorry. So Beau is upset, I think.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Well she was sitting on the floor and like, crying while surrounded by fairy lights. She reminds me of a very sad Christmas tree who has fallen over.”
“Oh god, is she okay?”
“She says they’re too big.”
“The lights?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you put her on, please?”
“She’s kind of unnerving like this. Are you sure?”
“I’ve dealt with far worse, believe me. I’m here to help, remember?”
“Right. Thanks.”
“It’s no problem, Chris. Really.”
***
“So, I’ve got to know - how did you and Chris meet?” Zach asked the obligatory question over coffee and flower arrangement catalogues.
Beau looked up from her notepad, where she had been neatly copying flower names. Zach had said he’d notate her preferences for her, but - as with many things - she insisted on doing them herself, for peace of mind. Why had she hired him, again?
“We’ve been going together since Berkeley.”
Zach wouldn’t have figured the man in the suit for a Berkeley boy.
“And did you tempt him with your unreasonably bouncy hair and ridiculously long legs, or what?”
Beau laughed into the coffee she’d brought to her lips. “My legs are no match for yours, Zach. But you’ve got the gist of it. I saw him in a production of The Importance of Being Earnest, and knew I had to have him.”
“Chris was a theatre student?”
He had the actor’s face, but Zach wouldn’t have pegged him for an emotive theatre type. Either Zach was off his game, or Chris just became a lot more fascinating.
Beau smiled and shrugged, clicking and un-clicking her pen. “Chris’ parents were both actors for a time. He had the same aspirations, until I think he realised that it wasn’t a steady way for us to live.”
For us to live. Uh huh.
“What does he do now?”
“Advertising. He’s very good at what he does, so...”
“And by that, you mean you enjoy seeing him in suits every day.”
Beau bit back a smile and dammit, she was as adorable as a fucking basket of kittens. But Zach wouldn’t forget that beneath it all she had a mind like a steel trap - and from the sound of things, she’d caught Chris in those metallic jaws long ago, and he wasn’t escaping any time soon.
“Zach, have you been checking out my fiancé?”
“Why else do you think I’m in this business?” Zach asked as he flipped idly through some truly heinous lily arrangements. “Looking for prospective future dates.”
This time Beau did smile, and it was like watching a fucking Neutrogena commercial. “You are the most unromantic wedding planner I’ve ever met.”
“I have an eye for the romantic - doesn’t mean I’m actually any good with it in my personal life. I’m much more content to watch you flounce off with ‘happily ever after’ plastered across your pretty face.”
“Now that I don’t believe.”
“What part? You think I’m covertly planning your demise?”
“No, of course not. Just - I have a difficult time imagining that the boys aren’t falling at your feet. You are gorgeous, Zach.”
“Flattery will get you everything except a discount, darling.”
“Seriously, so bitter.”
“Told you.”
***
“I like this French braid h -”
“Dull,” Chris murmured and pushed his glasses up his nose with a finger. “Nine letters, third letter ‘P’.”
Beau looked fairly demonic. “Christopher.”
Zach cleared his throat. “Ah, soporific.”
Chris flicked Zach a look, like he hadn’t realised you could be a flaming wedding planner discussing hair styles and still have more than a basic comprehension of the English language.
Zach ignored it and flipped the page of Beau’s magazine. “Well, are you planning on wearing a tiara or veil?”
“I’m considering it, but my dress is fairly simpli -”
“Arrangement. Twelve letters.”
“Organisation?”
“Nope. There’s an ‘L’ towards the middle.”
Zach scratched his jaw and frowned at Chris. “Tessellation?”
Chris pointedly ignored Beau’s audible huff and frowned at the newspaper. He had a smudge of ink on his chin. His lips quirked an iota and he scrawled something on the page. “Yep. Thanks, man.”
“I aim to please,” Zach replied dryly and turned to face Beau - who was looking rather homicidal, if truth be told. “Sorry,” Zach said with an easy smile as he placed a hand over Beau’s for a moment. “I can’t resist crosswords. Do ‘em every day.”
“Hey,” Chris chimed in. Me too.”
“As I was saying,” Beau said, “I’m not wearing a tiara or a veil.”
“Well, then you should go for something less subdued, don’t you think? Something intricate. Perhaps -”
“Annoyance. Twelve letters.”
Beau yanked the paper from Chris’ hands. “Christopher Whitelaw Pine!”
“That’s more than twel - oh, I see what you did there.”
Chris pushed his glasses atop his head and scrubbed his hands over his face, while Beau was silently huffing into a page where elaborate birds sat on top of brides’ heads.
Zach leaned towards Chris’ ear and whispered, “Irascibility.”
“Irascibility.”
“Oh.” Chris tilted his head, his eyes widening in appreciation. “Oh, yeah.”
***
“No, I don’t like this.”
Zach patiently regarded Beau. “Okay. We’ve still got three more churches to look at.”
“Good, great. It’s just that this one is so dark and creepy, you know?”
No, he didn’t ‘know’. Zach thought the chapel was glorious. It was rather petite, as far as churches went, but the high, arched ceiling gleamed with the patina of age. The dramatic curves of the building reminded him of being inside a ribcage, right at the heart.
The Friends theme song bounced harshly through the chapel, and Beau quickly scrabbled for her purse with an apologetic smile. She answered and gestured to Zach that she would be waiting outside.
Zach quirked an eyebrow at her back and turned to face the pews once she’d gone. A familiar fuzzy head sitting near the front had him wandering over. He slumped in a seat beside Chris and matched his slouch. Zach lolled his head to the side, surveying Chris’ profile and that scar on his chin.
“What do you think?”
“Exquisite,” Chris said, his voice a mere rasp.
Zach blinked. “Yeah.”
They sat in silence. Zach looked down, comparing his chucks to Chris’ rather ugly loafers. Funny, he hadn’t realised how awful his shoes were before - always too distracted with the rest of the package.
“Beau doesn’t like it,” Zach found himself saying. Dammit, if Chris liked the place, shouldn’t he say so? Or grow a backbone or something?
“I know. I think gothic architecture intimidates her.”
“What does she like?”
Chris flicked a look to Zach. “Isn’t that your job to find out?”
“Isn’t it yours?”
Chris shrugged. “I dunno, Barbie’s Dreamhouse?”
Zach smothered a laugh. “That makes you Ken.”
Chris snorted softly and looked to the ceiling. “I have genitals, thank you very much.”
“Good to know.”
“Add that to the wedding binder.”
“The invitations, too. You are hereby cordially invited to the Pine-Garrett wedding at Barbie’s Dreamhouse. Let it be known that Mr. Christopher Pine and his genitals will be taking the place of Ken and his ascot collection.”
There was that rare smile. A flash of white teeth with a gap in the bottom row.
A conspicuous cough had both of them turning in their seats to look towards the back of the chapel. Beau stood with her hands on her hips, face expectant. Zach and Chris made their way back to her, Chris with a lazier swagger than Zach’s quick pace.
Zach frowned, staring at Beau’s impatient expression.
Barbie’s Dreamhouse, huh...
“Beau, I have a thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wanted the reception to be old Hollywood, so why not have the wedding and reception in the same venue? Rent out a renovated, retro mansion from the forties or fifties - some place with a massive dining room and fabulous garden and what have you. Who needs a church when a priest can drive where you want him?”
Beau gave him a narrow look of contemplation, while Chris was staring at him quizzically.
Zach shrugged. “Do it all in one big dream house.”
Chris smiled. Twice in one day, that had to be a record.
As if it had all sunk in, Beau squealed without regard for her surroundings and enveloped Zach in an enthusiastic hug. “Oh my god, Zach - you genius! This is why you’re here, seriously. I freaking love you.”
“Honey, it’s what I do.”
***
“Hello?”
“Fascination. Eight letters. There’s a fucking ‘q’ in it, Zach. A ‘q’.”
“Heaven forbid the nefarious ‘q’ dares intrude upon the page.”
“You’re just stalling because you don’t know the answer.”
“That would be a fair assumption if it weren’t for the fact that I already did today’s crossword puzzle.”
“Ugh.”
“Jealous much?”
“Zach.”
“Piquancy.”
“Damn, you’re good.”
“You’ll learn this eventually, Mr. Pine. Everyone does.”
***
Chris was different when he wasn’t with Beau.
Which wasn’t unusual with a couple - but normally, the two people would be more comfortable around each other. Easier to speak to and joke with.
It was the opposite with Chris. Beau had been called out of their lunch date to fill in for a co-worker at the spa, leaving Chris and Zach to their own devices over half-eaten meals.
And there was no eloquent way to put it - Chris was different.
His strong shoulders relaxed beneath another expensive dove grey suit. Chris shrugged out of the jacket and hung it on the back of his chair.
“I heard you were into theatre,” Zach said, nipping on the tip of a fry.
“Seems like a lifetime ago.” Chris busied himself with rolling his sleeves to his elbows, exposing lightly tanned forearms and fine, pale hair.
“What made you stop? You’ve got the face for it, and Beau seemed to think you had the talent.”
“Complications.”
“How’s that?”
Chris took a long sip of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His lips were wet and pink when he spoke. “Long story short, Beau didn’t particularly approve of the stereotypical lifestyle of an actor. As if I was gonna spend my weekends snorting coke off a hooker’s ass or something.”
Zach stifled a laugh. “What? I always took you for the raving addict type. Don’t disillusion me.”
“I’m a terrible person, not following in the path of Li-Lo.”
Zach sighed. “She was such an adorable kid, too.”
Chris nodded. “The Parent Trap? Unrivalled levels of cute.”
“I still eat Oreos with peanut butter because of that movie.”
“See,” Chris said, with a sparkle in his gaze as he leaned in, “Normally I would be embarrassed to admit that I watched the fucking Parent Trap when I was like, out of high school - but I don’t even care with you. It’s a guilty pleasure.”
Zach’s mouth ached from smiling. “Same.”
Laugh lines splayed from the corners of Chris’ eyes. “I made my older sister pierce one of my ears with the ice and all, even though I could have easily gotten it done somewhere because I was like eighteen at the time. Yeah, that didn’t end well.”
“I’m shocked.”
“I know, right?”
Zach leaned in and made a show of inspecting Chris’ ear. “I don’t see a scar.”
“I came to my senses pretty quickly and removed it. Thank fuck.”
“Yeah, I can’t see you with an earring. Even I’m not that gay. Okay, wait, yes - I did have that eyebrow ring in my teens, but that was not one of my best life choices.”
Chris’ expressive eyebrows did a little wiggle that Zach couldn’t decode. Then Chris reached across the table and stole a fry from Zach’s plate, which left Zach wondering over the sudden prevailing silence.
“So, you’ve got a sister,” Zach said, nudging the conversation along. He didn’t mind. He was used to asking questions in his line of work, and most of his curiosity was due to his innate personality. He enjoyed small talk, any talk - learning about people. Especially shy businessmen with playful eyes and a serious mouth. “What’s she like?”
Chris’ lips twitched briefly, and his direct gaze pinned Zach, looked straight into him. “She makes me laugh.”
He hadn’t been expecting that. “I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh before.”
Even less expected was the pink blush that bloomed up Chris’ cheekbones. “You’re not missing out or anything.” His eyes darted towards his sweating water-glass and took a quick gulp, like it was a lifeline.
Zach didn’t bother to harness his own smile of delight. Grown men blushing? Good God, no wonder Beau had snatched this one up. “I’ll make that decision myself, thank you.”
“We’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
Even Zach didn’t know what he’d meant by that, when Chris’ wary eyes found his again.
***
“Oh my god guys, I need a slushie!”
Zoe and Kristen exchanged looks and groaned. “No,” they both said firmly.
“You bitches are such haters,” Zach said as he spun around on the pavement and walked backwards. He scrunched his nose at his best friends, glaring particularly at Kristen, who was yawning.
Zoe raised a perfect eyebrow. “This bitch is done for the night, and will most certainly leave your Irish-Italian ass if you ever speak Ghetto again.”
Kirsten linked her arm in Zoe’s. “You know how he gets. One too many Long Island Ice Teas and the guy thinks he’s Kanye.”
“Tsch, you don’t know me,” Zach said. He tripped over his foot and stumbled with flailing limbs until he was forced to turn around and walk beside his friends like a normal human being. “Come get slushies with me.”
“One,” Zoe said, “You know we hate slushies. Two, you’ll only drink the blue ones, and the only gas station that sells those is far over on your side of town. Three, there is no way in hell I’m walking any further in these heels when I’ve been dancing all night.”
“True that,” Kristen said, and only laughed when she got an elbow in the side.
Zach tried to shove his hands in the pockets of his trim, black slacks. But when he failed on the third attempt, he just ended up petting his hips as he spoke. “You guys are so mean to me. I need to adopt new friends. Gay ones.” Zach’s voice was steadily rising as he came to his conclusion. “More gay men. I need gays in my life!”
“Zach.” Christopher Sexypants Pine stopped dead in front of Zach, his eyes large and bright in the dim lamplight. “Uh, hi.”
After squealing to a halt with the help of grabbing onto Zoe’s wrist, Zach gaped at Chris. “Chris? My Chris?”
Chris’ lips parted and closed like he had no idea how to reply to that. Of course he was Zach’s Chris. As in, Zach’s client, obviously.
Kristen giggled. “Your Chris? Have you been holding out on us, Zee?” She stepped forward with a slight wobble to her step and held out a hand. “Hi, Zach’s Chris. How’re you tonight?”
“Fine. I’m fine, thanks. And I’m not uh -” Chris shook her hand briefly and took an abrupt step back, looking a bit dazed as he stared between Zach and his friends. “I see you guys are having fun tonight.”
“I want a slushie,” Zach said and pouted. “A blue one.”
“Not with any more alcohol in it, I hope,” Chris said with a faint curve of his lips.
Zoe patted Zach’s upper arm. “Zee here holds his liquor about as well as a twelve-year-old boy. And, as you can tell, has the appetite of one, too.”
Zach beamed at Chris. “Yep.”
Chris dragged his hand over his mouth and Zach could almost swear he tried not to laugh. “Nothing wrong with that. Us boys never grow up, y’know. We’re permanently preteens.”
“Which is why I can’t find a good one in this damn town,” Zoe said with a warm smile.
“Less standing, more slushing,” Zach said, as he began to get antsy.
“Sorry, Zee,” Zoe said, “Kristen and I are taking a cab. You’re on your own.”
She clapped Zach’s shoulder with surprising force. He swayed towards Chris, who held up his hands as if ready to catch the leaning tower of Zach. Luckily, Zach was like a fucking ninja and found his balance before he toppled into Chris.
Zach slung his arm around Chris’ shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. “Worst faghags ever, right?”
“Uh.” Chris looked down and away, his cheeks enflaming. “I’ll take your word for it. You want me to call you a cab too?”
“Oh my god no, I abhor cabs.”
“Abhor, huh?” Chris said with a slow smile as he ducked away from the weight of Zach’s frame.
“Oh, yes,” Zach said, deadly serious. “They smell like vomit, and also I get motion sickness from anything. I get motion sickness from like, windy days. That’s why I hate Chicago and also Scotland. I’ve never been to Scotland but I hear it’s the windiest country in Europe, so I assume I wouldn’t like it. Although, Ewan MacGregor and Gerard Butler. So.”
“I can see your dilemma,” Chris said, with perfect white teeth flashing for a second. “Your friends are leaving.”
Zach whirled around and waved as his friends climbed into a taxi. “Bye, bitches!”
The only reply was Zoe flicking him the bird out the open window.
Zach heaved a huge sigh and fixed his attention on Chris, who was looking down the street. “Why’re you alone?”
“Me? I just got away from having drinks with some prospective clients.”
“Wow, you sound fancy. You really are a fancypants. Very nice pants, too,” Zach said as he focused on Chris’ navy slacks. And loafers. “What - why the hell are you wearing loafers, honey? Oh my god. You are not eighty, take those off this instant.”
Chris huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Maybe when I get home.”
“Burn them. Burn them when you get home. I’ll perform an exorcism. Men like you should not wear ugly things.”
“Hey man, I like ‘em.”
“You’re a geezer at heart, aren’t you,” Zach said accusingly. “Old, old man heart.”
“You look like you’re going to fall over.”
“I might if I don’t get a fucking slushie,” Zach cried. “They’re the only reason I don’t get hangovers in the morning.”
“That sounds unlikely, but uh, come on then.” Chris gestured towards the direction which Zach had been walking. “I’ll take you.”
Zach’s face lit up. “I love you.”
“Great,” Chris said as he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk.
“Great!” Zach said as he marched beside him with a bounce in his step. “It’s weird to see you here. Like when you’re in high school and you see a teacher out of class and they look like normal people.”
“Do I appear abnormal on other occasions which we see each other?”
“You look like a male model whenever I see you, and you still do,” Zach said. He pressed firmly against Chris’ side, indicating that they take a left at the intersection.
Chris didn’t seem to have a reply to that, and Zach couldn’t see his reaction as they passed through a point without lamplight. He sucked in a bracing breath of cool air and looked to the hazy, starless night sky.
“I knew you’d have a really nice laugh.”
“I don’t remember laughing.”
“Well, okay, it was a miniscule chuckle, but still. I’m working on it.”
“Why?” Chris sounded genuinely puzzled.
Zach shrugged and swerved enough to brush Chris’ arm. “I enjoy it, I guess.”
“Making people laugh? Yeah, I can see that.”
“What, you think I’m funny? Funny like I’m a clown - I amuse you?”
Chris broke into a smile as he shifted to glance at Zach. “You like Goodfellas?”
“What’s not to like? Ray Liotta is hot like a doorknob in a housefire.”
This time Chris definitely laughed - and yeah, it made Zach’s body hum from head to toe. By the time they’d reached Zach’s particular gas station, they’d discovered that they shared a mutual love of Scorsese, both were terrible poker players - and Zach may or may not have tried to take Chris’ shoes off at some point. Overall, it was awesome.
“This is awesome,” Zach announced as he burst through the glass doors and made a beeline for the slushie machine. “My preciousss.”
Chris trailed behind. “That’s actually a rather worryingly accurate impression of Gollum.”
“Oh, my Gollum is unparalleled,” Zach said as he grabbed the largest cup there was and shoved it beneath the spout. “I practice it on Harold all the time. I read The Hobbit to him at least once a month.”
“Harold.”
“My cat.”
Chris grinned and shook his head. “Your cat. Of course.”
Zach paid the shady-looking attendant with numbing fingers, and clung to his massive slushie as Chris held the door open for him. Zach sighed and said, “You’re such a gentleman,” then latched onto the thick straw with fervour.
“Thanks?” Chris said, as they stepped out. “How far is your place from here?”
“Well, as the crow flies...” Zach squinted into the distance and cocked his head.
“Oookay, I’ll just walk you to your door,” Chris said as he took Zach’s elbow and began to lead him away.
“A gentleman and a blond!”
“Apparently,” Chris said under his breath, while Zach leaned happily against him.
“All the good ones are straight or taken, y’know.”
“Or very drunk,” Chris said.
“I’m not that wasted.”
“Uh huh. Are you aware that your straw went up your nose on the last four occasions you attempted to drink from it?”
“I can’t feel my nose!”
“Case closed.”
“The silver lining in this situation is that I didn’t suck up any through my nostrils and into my brain.”
“Your optimism is noted.”
For the remainder of their walk, Zach was pretty placated by his slushie. He was happy to bump and bustle against Chris for balance as he stumbled home and slurped. When they reached his front lawn, the floodlights came on and bathed them in white pools.
“I feel like we’re gonna be abducted,” Zach said as he smiled at Chris.
Chris actually smiled back, with his head cocked and his eyebrows high. “Your entire mouth is blue.”
“Is it?” Zach crossed his eyes and looked down at the tip of his tongue. “I’m blue.”
“Da ba de da ba die.”
Zach sighed. “I really do love you.”
Chris’ face went red. “Good, great. Goodnight Zach. Take care of yourself.”
“Byyyeee,” Zach said as he waved widely. “Thank you!”
He already knew he was going to remember little of this in the morning.
***
Are you home?
yes?
Hung over?
of course not, you saved me from that dreaded fate. ty.
No problem. I had fun. Disney Channel now.
why?
You won’t regret it.
omg li-lo! never ceases to amaze me that 2 preadolescents could set up 2 adults
Shenanigans.
you wanna know the real difference between us?
Let me see... I know how to fence and you don’t. Or I have class and you don’t. Take your pick.
YOU never cease to amaze me mr pine
Why?
you tell me. youre the one who texted me to quote a disney movie on a sunday morning.
Tell me you weren’t doing something better than that.
im not sure there is anything better than vicariously watching a childrens movie with you via iphone
...has beau stolen you?
Sorry, no. She’s at work. I was just trying to figure out the coffee pot.
you cant make your own coffee?
Lamill.
youre one of those huh
One of what?
hopeless
Maybe.
when i come over next weekend ill show you how to make coffee. no extra charge
Beau keeps saying she wouldn’t know what to do without you. I think I get it.
this is martin, our butler
We have a butler?
***
Zach was about to knock for the third time, when the door swung open to reveal Chris.
“Zach - hi. Come in.”
Chris stepped aside with a little smile and Zach wandered in. Normally, he’d be soaking up the feel of the house, noting all the telling nuances of keepsakes and knick knacks that made a person’s home.
Instead, the first thing he registered was the heavy flip in his stomach at the sight of Chris in low-slung grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt. The youthful effect it had on him, let alone the thin cling of material to his now-visible muscle definition, had Zach forgetting for a moment why he was here in the first place.
“Chris. Ah, is Beau home?”
“Not yet.” Chris shut the door with his foot and stared at Zach with an unreadable expression. “She’ll be back from Pilates soon. I need to finish an e-mail for work, and I think Beau’s left all her wedding shit in my office from earlier. Follow me?”
“Absolutely.”
To distract himself from the rather awe-inspiring view of Chris’ ass - hey, he was only human - Zach concentrated on the decor. Fresh, simple and clean. A lot of white with metallic accents, along with a punch of teal here and there. It was like... Malibu in the eighties or something.
And then there was Chris’ office. Zach came to the easy conclusion that Beau had decorated the rest of the apartment. This area screamed - no, grunted - of man. A worn out leather loveseat with rips in the seats, floor to ceiling bookshelves on one wall, a cluttered desk, two mismatched lamps, and a laptop that quietly played Johnny Cash.
Chris didn’t speak to Zach. He just sat at his desk, back hunched, and returned to whatever work he had going. Zach plopped on the sofa beside a pile of wedding articles and Beau’s ever-growing binder.
“So, are you excited?” Zach asked, and belatedly realised that he was genuinely interested. Either Chris has absolutely no opinions on anything regarding the engagement - which Zach highly doubted, from the glimpses he’d received of the guy’s personality - or he held himself on a tight rein for one reason or other.
“About?” Chris’ long, sturdy fingers flew over the keyboard.
Zach aimed a questioning look at the back of Chris’ head. “Your wedding.”
“Oh. Yep.”
“I know I’ve asked you before, but is there anything you’d specifically like at the ceremony or the reception?”
“Nope. Thanks, though.”
Zach just barely restrained a noise of frustration. What was it with this guy? “Whatever makes Beau happy, right?”
The line of Chris’ neck was stiff as he paused. “Always.”
Okay, so Zach’s gaydar might have been frustratingly non-existent for most of his life, but he hadn’t been lying when he’d alluded to his eye for romance. Zach was fairly good at gauging couples. Their body-language, expressions, and the way they threw themselves into their futures told him a lot.
But with Chris, he just couldn’t pinpoint the problem. He was so utterly unenthusiastic in comparison to Beau’s gung-ho attitude. And yet, Zach knew it had been Chris who had proposed. Chris’ reticence was puzzling - and dammit, Zach was nosy.
A big, nosy gay - whatever.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem kind of...”
Chris spun in the chair, his eyes hooded. “What?”
“Nervous. About the wedding. It’s completely normal, you know. Most of the grooms I encounter experience some element of cold f -”
“I’m not nervous,” Chris said flatly and turned back to his work.
“Because if you are, I’m always here to talk about it. I know I’m just a wedding planner, but I can be more. I’m here to make your experience a -”
“You don’t need to be more than what you’re paid for.”
Zach snapped his mouth shut, his face growing hot as he glowered at Chris’ stupid, adorable fuzzy hair. “Of course, Boss.” He stood and swept out of the room, saying, “I think I hear Beau.”
He didn’t, actually. But anywhere else was better than here. Fuck. You go out on a limb for a guy - and who the hell knows why he had in the first -
“Shit, Zach - hold up.”
Warm, strong fingers gripped Zach’s forearm and turned him. Earnest blue eyes met his, and Zach immediately wanted to worm away from the unnerving, raw expression.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Zach’s eyebrows flew towards his hairline, but he remained silent.
Chris’s hand was still on his arm, a firm weight that anchored Zach to him. Chris’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his gaze darted over Zach’s face.
“You were right about my apprehension regarding the engagement. I was a dick to you for no reason and -” He shrugged and dropped his hand. “Yeah. This is all going... a bit fast for me. Don’t mention it to Beau. She doesn’t need to know.”
“Um, sorry to rain on your parade or whatever, but that’s kind of something she should know, Chris. I’ve seen relationships disintegrate before they reach the aisle because of someone’s wavering position on the relationship. You can’t just subjugate that kind of doubt and not have it ricochet back at you one day.”
“It’s nothing nearly as dramatic as you’re making it out to be. I just don’t want to stress her out unnecessarily. And I don’t need to talk about it - with you, or anyone.”
Chris held Zach’s gaze for a moment and slumped back against the corridor wall. One hand dragged through his hair. “There’s nothing to talk about. Just cold feet, like you said.”
Zach hadn’t noticed up until this point how emotive Chris’ eyes were. “You’re a horrendous liar.”
The air stretched thin and brittle until Chris gnawed at his bottom lip and softly said, “Will you show me how to use the coffee machine?”
“Dammit, Chris.” Zach pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed in pure exasperation. “Get your ass into the kitchen and I’ll school you.”
“Thanks,” Chris said with more relief than necessary. Again, their gazes snagged and stuck. “Really.”
“Don’t mention it. Really.”
***
“Hello. Uh, Chris - you there?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s up? Is Beau all right?”
“What - oh, sure, she’s fine.”
“Then...?”
“Um, apologetic? Twelve letters. ‘C’, something something ‘P’, and ends in ‘O’ something ‘S’... Zach?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Not really. I was washing the refrigerator.”
“I don’t think I can feel guilty about pulling you away from that.”
“I don’t know, I was kind of enjoying the manual labour. And yellow dishwashing gloves are such a sexy accessory this year.”
“I can’t imagine anything more attractive.”
“Sliding my rubbery, Big Bird-coloured hands all over your body? Definitely a turn on.”
“No doubt.”
“Compunctious.”
“Wha - oh. Wow. Great, thanks.”
“Goodbye, Chris.”
“Bye Zach.”
***
“So, Your Chris,” Zoe said. She placed her hand, palm down, on top her tiny and scarred kitchen table.
“He’s not my anything,” Zach said as he leaned in and delicately swiped one of her nails with a layer of dark eggplant nail polish.
“Uh huh. That why you never talk about him?” Zoe smirked like she knew something that Zach didn’t.
Zach frowned down at Zoe’s fingers and continued to paint, slow and meticulous. “Did you get that part you auditioned for last week?”
“Like when you first bought your iPad and you didn’t even tell us for three weeks.”
“It’s for a supernatural drama, right?”
“Or when you buy ice cream and then I sleep over, ask for some, and you say you’re all out.”
Zach scratched his itchy nose with agitation. “I’m going to paint all over your cuticles.” He could feel Zoe’s gloating smile infringing on his privacy, and it was starting to piss him off.
“Whenever you have something really good, you hide it. Like you’re afraid the things which matter to you the most will disappear if you mention them.”
Zach rolled his eyes and set aside the brush. He picked up a q-tip to clean the edge of a nail. “He’s one of my clients, Zo.”
Silence stretched thin enough that Zach began to feel nothing but his pulse thumping dully in every joint and vein, angry heartbeats under his skin that he didn’t want to analyse.
“Zach, that’s not good,” Zoe said carefully.
Zach looked up then and offered a bright smile full of teeth and edge. “It’s all good, honey. He’s a charming person - no one can be immune to that - but it’s not like I’m gonna jump his bones or anything. He’s just some guy. Just some client.” He patted Zoe’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry.”
“With you, I always worry.” But Zoe was smiling, and Zach took that as a victory.
Unfortunately, he didn’t feel much like smiling for the rest of the day - no, week.
***
“And you mock my lack of coffee machine skills.”
Zach turned around in the LAMILL line and beamed at Chris, all the while ignoring the little jig his heart did against his ribs. “A notable exception being one’s lunch hour.”
“I’ll give you that. How’s it going?”
“It goes,” Zach said with a vague wave of his hand. Chris was wearing Ray-Bans, and Zach kind of wanted to throw them to the ground and step on them. He didn’t like being unable to see Chris’ eyes. “I’m making a pit stop on the way to a client’s house. The couple want their dogs in the wedding and I’m supposed to make their acquaintance.”
Chris’ expression was mostly blank under the cover of his shades. “That’s actually not the strangest thing I’ve heard. But still.”
“Still.”
“Wrong.”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you like what you do?” Chris said. It was probably the only personal thing he’d ever asked Zach.
The line shifted and Chris’ hand brushed over Zach’s elbow for just a second, to direct him forward. Zach felt a flare of something volatile inside him and scrambled to dampen it down.
“Um.” Zach tripped over his abruptly heavy tongue. “If you look past the Bridezillas and the perpetually whipped grooms and the mother-in-laws of Lucifer, it’s a pretty good time. Plus, free cake.”
Chris’ smile was gradual and wide. “I like your priorities.”
Zach flicked a look down at Chris’ chest, and realised that while Zach had moved away, Chris had moved closer. He gulped and smiled thinly. “Yeah.”
***
A month had passed since the day in Chris’ home, and Zach hadn’t said a peep to Beau.
Zach enjoyed the gossip mill as much as the next drama-starved, middle-class schmoe. But when it came to the people he cared about - and yeah, somehow Beau’s OCD adorableness and Chris’ stubborn loyalty had somehow wormed into his heart - Zach was a vault.
That, and unfortunately it wasn’t his business. Zach knew it and so did Chris. So they moved on.
“Hey guys, come on in.” Zach greeted the couple cheerfully at the door, offering Beau a double-cheek kiss and a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Welcome to our humble abode.”
“Oh my gosh, Zach - what a beautiful home you have!” Beau barrelled into the room with her usual self-assurance, looking this way and that with a bright smile. Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered in, quietly surveying the Quinto brothers’ homestead.
Despite him and Joe’s disagreements from time to time, living together had always made sense. Both of them had moved from the east coast to the west within the span of three years, and it had been logical on a financial level to stick together. Saving money was easier when they were splitting the rent - well, and it helped to fund Zach’s hat and scarf addiction.
Joe ran a pretty lucrative portrait business. He photographed everything from movie stars, to families, to giving Zach’s clients a discount on their wedding photos. Today they wouldn’t be doing official wedding portraits - this was more a casual, fun session to commemorate their individual personalities outside of a wedding dress and tux. This would celebrate them.
Zach grinned. “You sound surprised that two men can keep a house neat, Beau.”
“Well, you’ve seen Christopher’s office.”
The cat padded into the room, making a beeline for the man in question. Chris knelt and held out a hand for Harold to sniff. After a few seconds, the finicky feline deemed his approval and bumped Chris’ fingertips.
A wide smile of delight lit Chris’ face as he murmured something to Harold. The cat apparently loved whatever sweet-talk he was receiving, because he ended up rubbing his side along Chris’ knees.
Zach blinked and turned to Beau. “Sorry, what was that?”
Beau’s attention had also fallen to her fiancé. Her grey eyes warmed and a half-smile quirked her rosy lips. She flicked her glance to Zach and waved away the question with a single playful look, as if she understood what had momentarily captivated Zach’s attention.
Well, that was a little awkward. Maybe not for Beau, but it left Zach feeling rattled and exposed.
Zach cleared his throat. “Let’s go find Joe. He’s probably setting up in the studio.”
Beau bit her bottom lip in excitement. “A studio in your own house! That must be fun. I bet you get up to all sorts of things in there.”
Chris sputtered a quiet laugh and Zach boggled at Beau. “Girl, get your mind out of the gutter. A man would have to be damn fine to tempt me into doing the dirty in my brother’s studio. Jeez.”
“And why don’t you have a damn fine man to tempt you, Zachary?”
“Um, standards?” Zach said as they walked into Joe’s studio.
“Who has standards?” Joe chimed in with a grin. “No one in this house.” He approached Beau and Chris with his usual jovial attitude and greeted them both with a firm handshake.
He began to lead them over to the plain white backdrop when Zach caught Chris’ eye. His features were tight and his expression drawn.
Zach frowned and gingerly tugged Chris’ elbow, pulling him aside. “You okay?”
Chris aimed a half-hearted smile at Zach and mumbled, “I’m fine, man”, before dislodging himself from Zach’s grip. He approached Joe and, much to Zach’s surprise, began to ask his brother about the lenses he would be using today.
Beau came to Zach’s shoulder. “Chris hates having his picture taken,” she said lightly. She aimed an adoring look Chris’ way.
Chris hadn’t heard. He was intent on discussing Joe’s photography equipment, or something technical that Zach had no interest in. With Joe, Chris’ face opened up with interest. God, his eyes practically sparkled like a Disney characters’. Who was Zach kidding? The man was a freaking prince.
Which was why Zach was particularly surprised to hear this news. “Really? I mean, I knew he was shy, but... how did he manage excelling in theatre with all of those eyes on him?”
Beau shrugged. “You’d have to ask him. When he’s on stage, he’s a different person.”
“He has presence,” Zach said.
Beau gave him a look out of the corner of her eye and laughed. “Yes, I suppose he does. It’s like we can’t go anywhere without people noticing him, you know? I guess that’s why he prefers to be behind the camera if he has the choice. In his personal life, everyone wants a piece of him.”
Her words felt unusually heavy. Zach couldn’t put a finger on the reason. He swallowed a lump in his throat and met Beau’s eyes. But she was staring at Chris, her gaze stormy.
Then she was smiling and clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, boys. Let’s get started.”
“Sounds good to me,” Joe said and gestured to the backdrop. Two high stools sat before it. “Why don’t you guys sit down for me?”
They did as they were told, and Beau scooted her stool closer to Chris. He was eyeing the camera distrustfully, as if it were a dog about to snap.
Zach slouched on the couch behind Joe and folded his legs beneath him. When Chris darted a look Zach’s way and licked his chapped lips, Zach smiled encouragingly and gave him a thumbs up.
Poor guy. It was kind of cute, the way he was so unaware of his body.
Joe took his camera off the tripod. “I’m just going to take some preliminary shots. You guys just relax. Get into each other.”
Zach watched silently for a few minutes as Beau murmured in Chris’ ear, in attempts to ease the stiffness in his posture. Chris’ lips curved awkward and lopsided, his eyes hinging on the camera at Joe’s face.
Zach said, “Just pretend we’re all naked, Chris.”
Beau giggled into the crook of her fiancé’s neck. Chris’ cheeks went red and his gaze lingered on Zach.
Joe tsked. “Zach, stop sexually harassing my clients.”
“They were my clients first. I can be as inappropriate as I like as long as they don’t fire me. I could take off my clothes right now.”
“No one wants to see that, Zach.”
“I do!” Beau said, perking up.
Feeling inspired, Zach jumped from the sofa and made his way to Joe’s iPod dock.
“Got anything good on here?”
Joe’s shutter snapped away. It was clear that he wasn’t about to notify the couple when he was technically beginning. “What? I don’t know. What is it you listen to, again? Cher and the Scissor Sisters?”
Zach pursed his lips and thumbed through the song selection. “I choose not to be offended by your broad generalisation of my character, because that happens to be true. Ah, here we go. This’ll loosen you guys up.”
A familiar little jingle from back in the day carried through the air and Zach cranked the volume. One knee was already popping to the beat and his ass quickly caught up with sporadic swaying. On the mark, Zach turned on his heel with a wide grin and mouthed along to Janet Jackson. “Back on the road again, feelin’ kinda lonely and lookin’ for the right guy to be mine.”
Zach’s attention locked on Chris, who was blinking with a blank expression. Beau was trying to stifle her laughter.
That wasn’t enough, of course. Zach’s shoulders began to move with the music, his facial expressions exaggerated to the lyrics. “Friends say I’m crazy, ‘cause easily I fall in love. You gotta do it different J, this time.”
The music was too loud to hear what Beau said in Chris’ ear, but a genuine smile broke through like the sun from the clouds. From what Zach could see of Joe’s camera-covered profile, he was grinning as he got the shots for which he’d hoped.
Zach sashayed with exaggerated hip movement towards the couple, remaining behind Joe at all times. He bit his lip and fluttered his eyelashes before bursting into the next stanza. “Maybe we’ll meet at a bar - he’ll drive a funky car. Maybe we’ll meet at a club and fall so deeply in love.”
His eyes found Chris’, who was actually beginning to tear up from the performance. “He’ll tell me I’m the one and we’ll have so much fun. I’ll be the girl of his dreams, maybe.”
Zach’s own grin was threatening to overpower his ability to mouth the words, but in the name of comedy he just couldn’t help himself. He raised his arms and rolled his hips into a frightful rendition of a belly-dance. “All right, maybe gonna find him today. I gotta get someone to call my lover - yeah, baby, come on.”
Somewhere halfway through the song, and Zach was miming that he was serenading his brother - who was pointedly not looking at him, and continued to take photographs of the jubilant couple.
Beau and Chris were nearly collapsed upon each other with the force of their laughter. Beau would calm herself long enough to look at Zach - who would wink lewdly and mouth, “I love hard with everything.” - at which she would completely crack up.
Chris scrubbed his hands over his face and dared a look Zach’s way. Zach made bedroom eyes and crooked a welcoming finger in his direction. “My my, lookin’ for a guy guy. I don’t want him too shy, but he’s gotta have the qualities I like in a man - strong, smart, affectionate. He’s gotta be all for me, and I’ll be too.”
Something flashed and darkened Chris’ eyes, before he shifted and brushed his nose against Beau’s cheek.
The song concluded with some more totally awesome dancing on Zach’s part - okay, he probably looked like a geriatric with a hip replacement, but it didn’t matter. By the end of it all, even Joe had set aside his camera and was gasping for air.
Beau’s eye makeup was a disaster as she wiped beneath them with her fingers. She took a heaving breath to calm herself. “Oh my goodness, Zach - can you please just come home with us and do this every day?”
Zach sauntered to the iPod dock and turned down the volume to a low murmur. “Sorry honey, lap dances are an extra fee.”
“So worth it,” Beau said and sighed contentedly. She laid her head on Chris’ shoulder and asked Joe, “Did you get anything worth keeping?”
“We won’t know for sure until I put them up on the laptop, but I’ve got a gut feeling there is some pure gold among these photos. I guess my little brother is good for something, after all.”
Zach linked his hands above his head and took a long stretch. “I’m good at a multitude of things, Joe. They’re just talents in which you’d best remain ignorant.”
“You’re gross.”
“I’m insulted.”
“Nothing insults you.”
Zach thought on that and grinned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So -” Zach turned to Chris. “Was that a painful experience?”
Chris slid off the stool and shook his head, smiling to himself. “Only for my ribs. Thanks, Zach. You certainly are special.”
Zach’s smile faltered, and he didn’t know why. He also didn’t know why he felt vaguely insulted.
***
NEXT
Series: Pinto
Rating: R
Length: ~26,250
Summary: AKA, Zach's Skilful Circumvention of the Dangerous and Unintentionally Charming Chris Pine. Chris is engaged, Zach is his wedding planner, and everyone in the world is an asshole.
Beta: rainbowstrlght
Disclaimer: Somewhere over the slash rainbow of my mind, it happened. But not in Kansas, unfortunately.
“I want everything to be perfect.”
Zach smiled and gave the couple three years, tops.
The Pine-Garrett Party consisted of a perky blonde with a flinty glint in her eye and her slow-to-smile fiancé with a face out of an L.L. Bean catalogue.
“With my help, it will be. Don’t you worry about a thing, Miss Garrett.”
Beau Garrett had spent the past forty-three minutes going through her wedding binder with Zach, while Chris had murmured his assent on the errant ‘don’t you think, babe?’ thrown his way. From the rollercoaster of eyebrow motions from Chris, It had been pretty clear that he hadn’t been aware of half of the plans for their spring wedding.
No surprises there. Zach rarely encountered a groom who was strongly invested in their wedding. Oh sure, they wanted to please their wife-to-be and let them live the dream. But at the end of the day, they just wanted to get that ring on the finger and be done with the entire hassle of pomp and circumstance.
Chris Pine unequivocally fell into that category. The way his bride crisply laid out her colour, music, flower, dress, cake and ceremony preferences left no doubt in Zach’s mind that Chris’ opinion had not been necessary nor given in these choices.
But that was none of Zach’s business. His business was weddings and making them spectacular.
Beau gave a bright little smile and popped up from her seat, leaning forward to collect her belongings from the coffee table. Chris blinked, as if coming out of a dream, and lurched from the couch. He tugged neatly on his suit jacket and aimed a crooked curve of lips Zach’s way.
“Thank you for your time, Mister... Quinto, was it?”
Oh, where have you been, Mr. Christopher Pine?
“Please, call me Zach.”
“Zach.”
Beau eagerly edged into Chris’ space and took Zach’s hand in a warm shake. “Zach, thank you so much. I can’t wait for our next appointment. It’ll be just us two, though. Christopher has work.”
Zach smiled and flicked a glance to Chris, who was already scooting towards the door in that polite get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here way.
“No problem - I can’t wait. I’m looking forward to executing your old Hollywood wedding design.”
And he was. Despite what he might think about the Pine Party’s shelf-life, Beau had something going on with a classy wedding like this. She was a clever girl, he’d give her that much.
While Chris was... no longer in the room.
The tinkling of silver bells above Zach’s door alerted him and Beau to Chris’ retreating back. Beau laughed and rolled her eyes as she slung her purse over her thin shoulder. “Boys will be boys, right?”
“Oh, absolutely. Like I said - don’t needlessly stress yourself. You and I will rock this wedding to the point that even your fiancé will be impressed.”
“Zach, I can already tell that you’re gonna be the best.”
“That makes two of us.”
The high pitch of the door bells matched Beau’s giggle as she waved and saw herself out. Zach found himself grinning after the perky perfectionist and her lacklustre man.
Well, at least he wouldn’t be bored.
***
“Hello?”
“Um, Zach?”
“This is he... Is this Chris?”
“Oh, uh - yeah, sorry. Distracted. Listen, I’m supposed to be calling you about... frlts?”
“Sorry, did you just say something about Fritos?”
“Fairy lights? I think they’re called... stupid name.”
“Fairy lights? What’s stupid about that?”
“Just... why would fairies need lights?”
“They’re called fairy lights because the bulbs are in miniature. Suitable for a fairy.”
“You’d think fairies would use lightning bugs in a jar or something. That seems more logical than finding a socket to plug lights in.”
“I think you’re over-thinking fairy lights, Chris.”
“I think we’re saying ‘fairy’ too much. It’s stopped sounding like a word.”
“Chris... the lights.”
“Oh, right - sorry. So Beau is upset, I think.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Well she was sitting on the floor and like, crying while surrounded by fairy lights. She reminds me of a very sad Christmas tree who has fallen over.”
“Oh god, is she okay?”
“She says they’re too big.”
“The lights?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you put her on, please?”
“She’s kind of unnerving like this. Are you sure?”
“I’ve dealt with far worse, believe me. I’m here to help, remember?”
“Right. Thanks.”
“It’s no problem, Chris. Really.”
***
“So, I’ve got to know - how did you and Chris meet?” Zach asked the obligatory question over coffee and flower arrangement catalogues.
Beau looked up from her notepad, where she had been neatly copying flower names. Zach had said he’d notate her preferences for her, but - as with many things - she insisted on doing them herself, for peace of mind. Why had she hired him, again?
“We’ve been going together since Berkeley.”
Zach wouldn’t have figured the man in the suit for a Berkeley boy.
“And did you tempt him with your unreasonably bouncy hair and ridiculously long legs, or what?”
Beau laughed into the coffee she’d brought to her lips. “My legs are no match for yours, Zach. But you’ve got the gist of it. I saw him in a production of The Importance of Being Earnest, and knew I had to have him.”
“Chris was a theatre student?”
He had the actor’s face, but Zach wouldn’t have pegged him for an emotive theatre type. Either Zach was off his game, or Chris just became a lot more fascinating.
Beau smiled and shrugged, clicking and un-clicking her pen. “Chris’ parents were both actors for a time. He had the same aspirations, until I think he realised that it wasn’t a steady way for us to live.”
For us to live. Uh huh.
“What does he do now?”
“Advertising. He’s very good at what he does, so...”
“And by that, you mean you enjoy seeing him in suits every day.”
Beau bit back a smile and dammit, she was as adorable as a fucking basket of kittens. But Zach wouldn’t forget that beneath it all she had a mind like a steel trap - and from the sound of things, she’d caught Chris in those metallic jaws long ago, and he wasn’t escaping any time soon.
“Zach, have you been checking out my fiancé?”
“Why else do you think I’m in this business?” Zach asked as he flipped idly through some truly heinous lily arrangements. “Looking for prospective future dates.”
This time Beau did smile, and it was like watching a fucking Neutrogena commercial. “You are the most unromantic wedding planner I’ve ever met.”
“I have an eye for the romantic - doesn’t mean I’m actually any good with it in my personal life. I’m much more content to watch you flounce off with ‘happily ever after’ plastered across your pretty face.”
“Now that I don’t believe.”
“What part? You think I’m covertly planning your demise?”
“No, of course not. Just - I have a difficult time imagining that the boys aren’t falling at your feet. You are gorgeous, Zach.”
“Flattery will get you everything except a discount, darling.”
“Seriously, so bitter.”
“Told you.”
***
“I like this French braid h -”
“Dull,” Chris murmured and pushed his glasses up his nose with a finger. “Nine letters, third letter ‘P’.”
Beau looked fairly demonic. “Christopher.”
Zach cleared his throat. “Ah, soporific.”
Chris flicked Zach a look, like he hadn’t realised you could be a flaming wedding planner discussing hair styles and still have more than a basic comprehension of the English language.
Zach ignored it and flipped the page of Beau’s magazine. “Well, are you planning on wearing a tiara or veil?”
“I’m considering it, but my dress is fairly simpli -”
“Arrangement. Twelve letters.”
“Organisation?”
“Nope. There’s an ‘L’ towards the middle.”
Zach scratched his jaw and frowned at Chris. “Tessellation?”
Chris pointedly ignored Beau’s audible huff and frowned at the newspaper. He had a smudge of ink on his chin. His lips quirked an iota and he scrawled something on the page. “Yep. Thanks, man.”
“I aim to please,” Zach replied dryly and turned to face Beau - who was looking rather homicidal, if truth be told. “Sorry,” Zach said with an easy smile as he placed a hand over Beau’s for a moment. “I can’t resist crosswords. Do ‘em every day.”
“Hey,” Chris chimed in. Me too.”
“As I was saying,” Beau said, “I’m not wearing a tiara or a veil.”
“Well, then you should go for something less subdued, don’t you think? Something intricate. Perhaps -”
“Annoyance. Twelve letters.”
Beau yanked the paper from Chris’ hands. “Christopher Whitelaw Pine!”
“That’s more than twel - oh, I see what you did there.”
Chris pushed his glasses atop his head and scrubbed his hands over his face, while Beau was silently huffing into a page where elaborate birds sat on top of brides’ heads.
Zach leaned towards Chris’ ear and whispered, “Irascibility.”
“Irascibility.”
“Oh.” Chris tilted his head, his eyes widening in appreciation. “Oh, yeah.”
***
“No, I don’t like this.”
Zach patiently regarded Beau. “Okay. We’ve still got three more churches to look at.”
“Good, great. It’s just that this one is so dark and creepy, you know?”
No, he didn’t ‘know’. Zach thought the chapel was glorious. It was rather petite, as far as churches went, but the high, arched ceiling gleamed with the patina of age. The dramatic curves of the building reminded him of being inside a ribcage, right at the heart.
The Friends theme song bounced harshly through the chapel, and Beau quickly scrabbled for her purse with an apologetic smile. She answered and gestured to Zach that she would be waiting outside.
Zach quirked an eyebrow at her back and turned to face the pews once she’d gone. A familiar fuzzy head sitting near the front had him wandering over. He slumped in a seat beside Chris and matched his slouch. Zach lolled his head to the side, surveying Chris’ profile and that scar on his chin.
“What do you think?”
“Exquisite,” Chris said, his voice a mere rasp.
Zach blinked. “Yeah.”
They sat in silence. Zach looked down, comparing his chucks to Chris’ rather ugly loafers. Funny, he hadn’t realised how awful his shoes were before - always too distracted with the rest of the package.
“Beau doesn’t like it,” Zach found himself saying. Dammit, if Chris liked the place, shouldn’t he say so? Or grow a backbone or something?
“I know. I think gothic architecture intimidates her.”
“What does she like?”
Chris flicked a look to Zach. “Isn’t that your job to find out?”
“Isn’t it yours?”
Chris shrugged. “I dunno, Barbie’s Dreamhouse?”
Zach smothered a laugh. “That makes you Ken.”
Chris snorted softly and looked to the ceiling. “I have genitals, thank you very much.”
“Good to know.”
“Add that to the wedding binder.”
“The invitations, too. You are hereby cordially invited to the Pine-Garrett wedding at Barbie’s Dreamhouse. Let it be known that Mr. Christopher Pine and his genitals will be taking the place of Ken and his ascot collection.”
There was that rare smile. A flash of white teeth with a gap in the bottom row.
A conspicuous cough had both of them turning in their seats to look towards the back of the chapel. Beau stood with her hands on her hips, face expectant. Zach and Chris made their way back to her, Chris with a lazier swagger than Zach’s quick pace.
Zach frowned, staring at Beau’s impatient expression.
Barbie’s Dreamhouse, huh...
“Beau, I have a thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wanted the reception to be old Hollywood, so why not have the wedding and reception in the same venue? Rent out a renovated, retro mansion from the forties or fifties - some place with a massive dining room and fabulous garden and what have you. Who needs a church when a priest can drive where you want him?”
Beau gave him a narrow look of contemplation, while Chris was staring at him quizzically.
Zach shrugged. “Do it all in one big dream house.”
Chris smiled. Twice in one day, that had to be a record.
As if it had all sunk in, Beau squealed without regard for her surroundings and enveloped Zach in an enthusiastic hug. “Oh my god, Zach - you genius! This is why you’re here, seriously. I freaking love you.”
“Honey, it’s what I do.”
***
“Hello?”
“Fascination. Eight letters. There’s a fucking ‘q’ in it, Zach. A ‘q’.”
“Heaven forbid the nefarious ‘q’ dares intrude upon the page.”
“You’re just stalling because you don’t know the answer.”
“That would be a fair assumption if it weren’t for the fact that I already did today’s crossword puzzle.”
“Ugh.”
“Jealous much?”
“Zach.”
“Piquancy.”
“Damn, you’re good.”
“You’ll learn this eventually, Mr. Pine. Everyone does.”
***
Chris was different when he wasn’t with Beau.
Which wasn’t unusual with a couple - but normally, the two people would be more comfortable around each other. Easier to speak to and joke with.
It was the opposite with Chris. Beau had been called out of their lunch date to fill in for a co-worker at the spa, leaving Chris and Zach to their own devices over half-eaten meals.
And there was no eloquent way to put it - Chris was different.
His strong shoulders relaxed beneath another expensive dove grey suit. Chris shrugged out of the jacket and hung it on the back of his chair.
“I heard you were into theatre,” Zach said, nipping on the tip of a fry.
“Seems like a lifetime ago.” Chris busied himself with rolling his sleeves to his elbows, exposing lightly tanned forearms and fine, pale hair.
“What made you stop? You’ve got the face for it, and Beau seemed to think you had the talent.”
“Complications.”
“How’s that?”
Chris took a long sip of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His lips were wet and pink when he spoke. “Long story short, Beau didn’t particularly approve of the stereotypical lifestyle of an actor. As if I was gonna spend my weekends snorting coke off a hooker’s ass or something.”
Zach stifled a laugh. “What? I always took you for the raving addict type. Don’t disillusion me.”
“I’m a terrible person, not following in the path of Li-Lo.”
Zach sighed. “She was such an adorable kid, too.”
Chris nodded. “The Parent Trap? Unrivalled levels of cute.”
“I still eat Oreos with peanut butter because of that movie.”
“See,” Chris said, with a sparkle in his gaze as he leaned in, “Normally I would be embarrassed to admit that I watched the fucking Parent Trap when I was like, out of high school - but I don’t even care with you. It’s a guilty pleasure.”
Zach’s mouth ached from smiling. “Same.”
Laugh lines splayed from the corners of Chris’ eyes. “I made my older sister pierce one of my ears with the ice and all, even though I could have easily gotten it done somewhere because I was like eighteen at the time. Yeah, that didn’t end well.”
“I’m shocked.”
“I know, right?”
Zach leaned in and made a show of inspecting Chris’ ear. “I don’t see a scar.”
“I came to my senses pretty quickly and removed it. Thank fuck.”
“Yeah, I can’t see you with an earring. Even I’m not that gay. Okay, wait, yes - I did have that eyebrow ring in my teens, but that was not one of my best life choices.”
Chris’ expressive eyebrows did a little wiggle that Zach couldn’t decode. Then Chris reached across the table and stole a fry from Zach’s plate, which left Zach wondering over the sudden prevailing silence.
“So, you’ve got a sister,” Zach said, nudging the conversation along. He didn’t mind. He was used to asking questions in his line of work, and most of his curiosity was due to his innate personality. He enjoyed small talk, any talk - learning about people. Especially shy businessmen with playful eyes and a serious mouth. “What’s she like?”
Chris’ lips twitched briefly, and his direct gaze pinned Zach, looked straight into him. “She makes me laugh.”
He hadn’t been expecting that. “I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh before.”
Even less expected was the pink blush that bloomed up Chris’ cheekbones. “You’re not missing out or anything.” His eyes darted towards his sweating water-glass and took a quick gulp, like it was a lifeline.
Zach didn’t bother to harness his own smile of delight. Grown men blushing? Good God, no wonder Beau had snatched this one up. “I’ll make that decision myself, thank you.”
“We’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
Even Zach didn’t know what he’d meant by that, when Chris’ wary eyes found his again.
***
“Oh my god guys, I need a slushie!”
Zoe and Kristen exchanged looks and groaned. “No,” they both said firmly.
“You bitches are such haters,” Zach said as he spun around on the pavement and walked backwards. He scrunched his nose at his best friends, glaring particularly at Kristen, who was yawning.
Zoe raised a perfect eyebrow. “This bitch is done for the night, and will most certainly leave your Irish-Italian ass if you ever speak Ghetto again.”
Kirsten linked her arm in Zoe’s. “You know how he gets. One too many Long Island Ice Teas and the guy thinks he’s Kanye.”
“Tsch, you don’t know me,” Zach said. He tripped over his foot and stumbled with flailing limbs until he was forced to turn around and walk beside his friends like a normal human being. “Come get slushies with me.”
“One,” Zoe said, “You know we hate slushies. Two, you’ll only drink the blue ones, and the only gas station that sells those is far over on your side of town. Three, there is no way in hell I’m walking any further in these heels when I’ve been dancing all night.”
“True that,” Kristen said, and only laughed when she got an elbow in the side.
Zach tried to shove his hands in the pockets of his trim, black slacks. But when he failed on the third attempt, he just ended up petting his hips as he spoke. “You guys are so mean to me. I need to adopt new friends. Gay ones.” Zach’s voice was steadily rising as he came to his conclusion. “More gay men. I need gays in my life!”
“Zach.” Christopher Sexypants Pine stopped dead in front of Zach, his eyes large and bright in the dim lamplight. “Uh, hi.”
After squealing to a halt with the help of grabbing onto Zoe’s wrist, Zach gaped at Chris. “Chris? My Chris?”
Chris’ lips parted and closed like he had no idea how to reply to that. Of course he was Zach’s Chris. As in, Zach’s client, obviously.
Kristen giggled. “Your Chris? Have you been holding out on us, Zee?” She stepped forward with a slight wobble to her step and held out a hand. “Hi, Zach’s Chris. How’re you tonight?”
“Fine. I’m fine, thanks. And I’m not uh -” Chris shook her hand briefly and took an abrupt step back, looking a bit dazed as he stared between Zach and his friends. “I see you guys are having fun tonight.”
“I want a slushie,” Zach said and pouted. “A blue one.”
“Not with any more alcohol in it, I hope,” Chris said with a faint curve of his lips.
Zoe patted Zach’s upper arm. “Zee here holds his liquor about as well as a twelve-year-old boy. And, as you can tell, has the appetite of one, too.”
Zach beamed at Chris. “Yep.”
Chris dragged his hand over his mouth and Zach could almost swear he tried not to laugh. “Nothing wrong with that. Us boys never grow up, y’know. We’re permanently preteens.”
“Which is why I can’t find a good one in this damn town,” Zoe said with a warm smile.
“Less standing, more slushing,” Zach said, as he began to get antsy.
“Sorry, Zee,” Zoe said, “Kristen and I are taking a cab. You’re on your own.”
She clapped Zach’s shoulder with surprising force. He swayed towards Chris, who held up his hands as if ready to catch the leaning tower of Zach. Luckily, Zach was like a fucking ninja and found his balance before he toppled into Chris.
Zach slung his arm around Chris’ shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. “Worst faghags ever, right?”
“Uh.” Chris looked down and away, his cheeks enflaming. “I’ll take your word for it. You want me to call you a cab too?”
“Oh my god no, I abhor cabs.”
“Abhor, huh?” Chris said with a slow smile as he ducked away from the weight of Zach’s frame.
“Oh, yes,” Zach said, deadly serious. “They smell like vomit, and also I get motion sickness from anything. I get motion sickness from like, windy days. That’s why I hate Chicago and also Scotland. I’ve never been to Scotland but I hear it’s the windiest country in Europe, so I assume I wouldn’t like it. Although, Ewan MacGregor and Gerard Butler. So.”
“I can see your dilemma,” Chris said, with perfect white teeth flashing for a second. “Your friends are leaving.”
Zach whirled around and waved as his friends climbed into a taxi. “Bye, bitches!”
The only reply was Zoe flicking him the bird out the open window.
Zach heaved a huge sigh and fixed his attention on Chris, who was looking down the street. “Why’re you alone?”
“Me? I just got away from having drinks with some prospective clients.”
“Wow, you sound fancy. You really are a fancypants. Very nice pants, too,” Zach said as he focused on Chris’ navy slacks. And loafers. “What - why the hell are you wearing loafers, honey? Oh my god. You are not eighty, take those off this instant.”
Chris huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Maybe when I get home.”
“Burn them. Burn them when you get home. I’ll perform an exorcism. Men like you should not wear ugly things.”
“Hey man, I like ‘em.”
“You’re a geezer at heart, aren’t you,” Zach said accusingly. “Old, old man heart.”
“You look like you’re going to fall over.”
“I might if I don’t get a fucking slushie,” Zach cried. “They’re the only reason I don’t get hangovers in the morning.”
“That sounds unlikely, but uh, come on then.” Chris gestured towards the direction which Zach had been walking. “I’ll take you.”
Zach’s face lit up. “I love you.”
“Great,” Chris said as he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk.
“Great!” Zach said as he marched beside him with a bounce in his step. “It’s weird to see you here. Like when you’re in high school and you see a teacher out of class and they look like normal people.”
“Do I appear abnormal on other occasions which we see each other?”
“You look like a male model whenever I see you, and you still do,” Zach said. He pressed firmly against Chris’ side, indicating that they take a left at the intersection.
Chris didn’t seem to have a reply to that, and Zach couldn’t see his reaction as they passed through a point without lamplight. He sucked in a bracing breath of cool air and looked to the hazy, starless night sky.
“I knew you’d have a really nice laugh.”
“I don’t remember laughing.”
“Well, okay, it was a miniscule chuckle, but still. I’m working on it.”
“Why?” Chris sounded genuinely puzzled.
Zach shrugged and swerved enough to brush Chris’ arm. “I enjoy it, I guess.”
“Making people laugh? Yeah, I can see that.”
“What, you think I’m funny? Funny like I’m a clown - I amuse you?”
Chris broke into a smile as he shifted to glance at Zach. “You like Goodfellas?”
“What’s not to like? Ray Liotta is hot like a doorknob in a housefire.”
This time Chris definitely laughed - and yeah, it made Zach’s body hum from head to toe. By the time they’d reached Zach’s particular gas station, they’d discovered that they shared a mutual love of Scorsese, both were terrible poker players - and Zach may or may not have tried to take Chris’ shoes off at some point. Overall, it was awesome.
“This is awesome,” Zach announced as he burst through the glass doors and made a beeline for the slushie machine. “My preciousss.”
Chris trailed behind. “That’s actually a rather worryingly accurate impression of Gollum.”
“Oh, my Gollum is unparalleled,” Zach said as he grabbed the largest cup there was and shoved it beneath the spout. “I practice it on Harold all the time. I read The Hobbit to him at least once a month.”
“Harold.”
“My cat.”
Chris grinned and shook his head. “Your cat. Of course.”
Zach paid the shady-looking attendant with numbing fingers, and clung to his massive slushie as Chris held the door open for him. Zach sighed and said, “You’re such a gentleman,” then latched onto the thick straw with fervour.
“Thanks?” Chris said, as they stepped out. “How far is your place from here?”
“Well, as the crow flies...” Zach squinted into the distance and cocked his head.
“Oookay, I’ll just walk you to your door,” Chris said as he took Zach’s elbow and began to lead him away.
“A gentleman and a blond!”
“Apparently,” Chris said under his breath, while Zach leaned happily against him.
“All the good ones are straight or taken, y’know.”
“Or very drunk,” Chris said.
“I’m not that wasted.”
“Uh huh. Are you aware that your straw went up your nose on the last four occasions you attempted to drink from it?”
“I can’t feel my nose!”
“Case closed.”
“The silver lining in this situation is that I didn’t suck up any through my nostrils and into my brain.”
“Your optimism is noted.”
For the remainder of their walk, Zach was pretty placated by his slushie. He was happy to bump and bustle against Chris for balance as he stumbled home and slurped. When they reached his front lawn, the floodlights came on and bathed them in white pools.
“I feel like we’re gonna be abducted,” Zach said as he smiled at Chris.
Chris actually smiled back, with his head cocked and his eyebrows high. “Your entire mouth is blue.”
“Is it?” Zach crossed his eyes and looked down at the tip of his tongue. “I’m blue.”
“Da ba de da ba die.”
Zach sighed. “I really do love you.”
Chris’ face went red. “Good, great. Goodnight Zach. Take care of yourself.”
“Byyyeee,” Zach said as he waved widely. “Thank you!”
He already knew he was going to remember little of this in the morning.
***
Are you home?
yes?
Hung over?
of course not, you saved me from that dreaded fate. ty.
No problem. I had fun. Disney Channel now.
why?
You won’t regret it.
omg li-lo! never ceases to amaze me that 2 preadolescents could set up 2 adults
Shenanigans.
you wanna know the real difference between us?
Let me see... I know how to fence and you don’t. Or I have class and you don’t. Take your pick.
YOU never cease to amaze me mr pine
Why?
you tell me. youre the one who texted me to quote a disney movie on a sunday morning.
Tell me you weren’t doing something better than that.
im not sure there is anything better than vicariously watching a childrens movie with you via iphone
...has beau stolen you?
Sorry, no. She’s at work. I was just trying to figure out the coffee pot.
you cant make your own coffee?
Lamill.
youre one of those huh
One of what?
hopeless
Maybe.
when i come over next weekend ill show you how to make coffee. no extra charge
Beau keeps saying she wouldn’t know what to do without you. I think I get it.
this is martin, our butler
We have a butler?
***
Zach was about to knock for the third time, when the door swung open to reveal Chris.
“Zach - hi. Come in.”
Chris stepped aside with a little smile and Zach wandered in. Normally, he’d be soaking up the feel of the house, noting all the telling nuances of keepsakes and knick knacks that made a person’s home.
Instead, the first thing he registered was the heavy flip in his stomach at the sight of Chris in low-slung grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt. The youthful effect it had on him, let alone the thin cling of material to his now-visible muscle definition, had Zach forgetting for a moment why he was here in the first place.
“Chris. Ah, is Beau home?”
“Not yet.” Chris shut the door with his foot and stared at Zach with an unreadable expression. “She’ll be back from Pilates soon. I need to finish an e-mail for work, and I think Beau’s left all her wedding shit in my office from earlier. Follow me?”
“Absolutely.”
To distract himself from the rather awe-inspiring view of Chris’ ass - hey, he was only human - Zach concentrated on the decor. Fresh, simple and clean. A lot of white with metallic accents, along with a punch of teal here and there. It was like... Malibu in the eighties or something.
And then there was Chris’ office. Zach came to the easy conclusion that Beau had decorated the rest of the apartment. This area screamed - no, grunted - of man. A worn out leather loveseat with rips in the seats, floor to ceiling bookshelves on one wall, a cluttered desk, two mismatched lamps, and a laptop that quietly played Johnny Cash.
Chris didn’t speak to Zach. He just sat at his desk, back hunched, and returned to whatever work he had going. Zach plopped on the sofa beside a pile of wedding articles and Beau’s ever-growing binder.
“So, are you excited?” Zach asked, and belatedly realised that he was genuinely interested. Either Chris has absolutely no opinions on anything regarding the engagement - which Zach highly doubted, from the glimpses he’d received of the guy’s personality - or he held himself on a tight rein for one reason or other.
“About?” Chris’ long, sturdy fingers flew over the keyboard.
Zach aimed a questioning look at the back of Chris’ head. “Your wedding.”
“Oh. Yep.”
“I know I’ve asked you before, but is there anything you’d specifically like at the ceremony or the reception?”
“Nope. Thanks, though.”
Zach just barely restrained a noise of frustration. What was it with this guy? “Whatever makes Beau happy, right?”
The line of Chris’ neck was stiff as he paused. “Always.”
Okay, so Zach’s gaydar might have been frustratingly non-existent for most of his life, but he hadn’t been lying when he’d alluded to his eye for romance. Zach was fairly good at gauging couples. Their body-language, expressions, and the way they threw themselves into their futures told him a lot.
But with Chris, he just couldn’t pinpoint the problem. He was so utterly unenthusiastic in comparison to Beau’s gung-ho attitude. And yet, Zach knew it had been Chris who had proposed. Chris’ reticence was puzzling - and dammit, Zach was nosy.
A big, nosy gay - whatever.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem kind of...”
Chris spun in the chair, his eyes hooded. “What?”
“Nervous. About the wedding. It’s completely normal, you know. Most of the grooms I encounter experience some element of cold f -”
“I’m not nervous,” Chris said flatly and turned back to his work.
“Because if you are, I’m always here to talk about it. I know I’m just a wedding planner, but I can be more. I’m here to make your experience a -”
“You don’t need to be more than what you’re paid for.”
Zach snapped his mouth shut, his face growing hot as he glowered at Chris’ stupid, adorable fuzzy hair. “Of course, Boss.” He stood and swept out of the room, saying, “I think I hear Beau.”
He didn’t, actually. But anywhere else was better than here. Fuck. You go out on a limb for a guy - and who the hell knows why he had in the first -
“Shit, Zach - hold up.”
Warm, strong fingers gripped Zach’s forearm and turned him. Earnest blue eyes met his, and Zach immediately wanted to worm away from the unnerving, raw expression.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Zach’s eyebrows flew towards his hairline, but he remained silent.
Chris’s hand was still on his arm, a firm weight that anchored Zach to him. Chris’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his gaze darted over Zach’s face.
“You were right about my apprehension regarding the engagement. I was a dick to you for no reason and -” He shrugged and dropped his hand. “Yeah. This is all going... a bit fast for me. Don’t mention it to Beau. She doesn’t need to know.”
“Um, sorry to rain on your parade or whatever, but that’s kind of something she should know, Chris. I’ve seen relationships disintegrate before they reach the aisle because of someone’s wavering position on the relationship. You can’t just subjugate that kind of doubt and not have it ricochet back at you one day.”
“It’s nothing nearly as dramatic as you’re making it out to be. I just don’t want to stress her out unnecessarily. And I don’t need to talk about it - with you, or anyone.”
Chris held Zach’s gaze for a moment and slumped back against the corridor wall. One hand dragged through his hair. “There’s nothing to talk about. Just cold feet, like you said.”
Zach hadn’t noticed up until this point how emotive Chris’ eyes were. “You’re a horrendous liar.”
The air stretched thin and brittle until Chris gnawed at his bottom lip and softly said, “Will you show me how to use the coffee machine?”
“Dammit, Chris.” Zach pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed in pure exasperation. “Get your ass into the kitchen and I’ll school you.”
“Thanks,” Chris said with more relief than necessary. Again, their gazes snagged and stuck. “Really.”
“Don’t mention it. Really.”
***
“Hello. Uh, Chris - you there?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s up? Is Beau all right?”
“What - oh, sure, she’s fine.”
“Then...?”
“Um, apologetic? Twelve letters. ‘C’, something something ‘P’, and ends in ‘O’ something ‘S’... Zach?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Not really. I was washing the refrigerator.”
“I don’t think I can feel guilty about pulling you away from that.”
“I don’t know, I was kind of enjoying the manual labour. And yellow dishwashing gloves are such a sexy accessory this year.”
“I can’t imagine anything more attractive.”
“Sliding my rubbery, Big Bird-coloured hands all over your body? Definitely a turn on.”
“No doubt.”
“Compunctious.”
“Wha - oh. Wow. Great, thanks.”
“Goodbye, Chris.”
“Bye Zach.”
***
“So, Your Chris,” Zoe said. She placed her hand, palm down, on top her tiny and scarred kitchen table.
“He’s not my anything,” Zach said as he leaned in and delicately swiped one of her nails with a layer of dark eggplant nail polish.
“Uh huh. That why you never talk about him?” Zoe smirked like she knew something that Zach didn’t.
Zach frowned down at Zoe’s fingers and continued to paint, slow and meticulous. “Did you get that part you auditioned for last week?”
“Like when you first bought your iPad and you didn’t even tell us for three weeks.”
“It’s for a supernatural drama, right?”
“Or when you buy ice cream and then I sleep over, ask for some, and you say you’re all out.”
Zach scratched his itchy nose with agitation. “I’m going to paint all over your cuticles.” He could feel Zoe’s gloating smile infringing on his privacy, and it was starting to piss him off.
“Whenever you have something really good, you hide it. Like you’re afraid the things which matter to you the most will disappear if you mention them.”
Zach rolled his eyes and set aside the brush. He picked up a q-tip to clean the edge of a nail. “He’s one of my clients, Zo.”
Silence stretched thin enough that Zach began to feel nothing but his pulse thumping dully in every joint and vein, angry heartbeats under his skin that he didn’t want to analyse.
“Zach, that’s not good,” Zoe said carefully.
Zach looked up then and offered a bright smile full of teeth and edge. “It’s all good, honey. He’s a charming person - no one can be immune to that - but it’s not like I’m gonna jump his bones or anything. He’s just some guy. Just some client.” He patted Zoe’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry.”
“With you, I always worry.” But Zoe was smiling, and Zach took that as a victory.
Unfortunately, he didn’t feel much like smiling for the rest of the day - no, week.
***
“And you mock my lack of coffee machine skills.”
Zach turned around in the LAMILL line and beamed at Chris, all the while ignoring the little jig his heart did against his ribs. “A notable exception being one’s lunch hour.”
“I’ll give you that. How’s it going?”
“It goes,” Zach said with a vague wave of his hand. Chris was wearing Ray-Bans, and Zach kind of wanted to throw them to the ground and step on them. He didn’t like being unable to see Chris’ eyes. “I’m making a pit stop on the way to a client’s house. The couple want their dogs in the wedding and I’m supposed to make their acquaintance.”
Chris’ expression was mostly blank under the cover of his shades. “That’s actually not the strangest thing I’ve heard. But still.”
“Still.”
“Wrong.”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you like what you do?” Chris said. It was probably the only personal thing he’d ever asked Zach.
The line shifted and Chris’ hand brushed over Zach’s elbow for just a second, to direct him forward. Zach felt a flare of something volatile inside him and scrambled to dampen it down.
“Um.” Zach tripped over his abruptly heavy tongue. “If you look past the Bridezillas and the perpetually whipped grooms and the mother-in-laws of Lucifer, it’s a pretty good time. Plus, free cake.”
Chris’ smile was gradual and wide. “I like your priorities.”
Zach flicked a look down at Chris’ chest, and realised that while Zach had moved away, Chris had moved closer. He gulped and smiled thinly. “Yeah.”
***
A month had passed since the day in Chris’ home, and Zach hadn’t said a peep to Beau.
Zach enjoyed the gossip mill as much as the next drama-starved, middle-class schmoe. But when it came to the people he cared about - and yeah, somehow Beau’s OCD adorableness and Chris’ stubborn loyalty had somehow wormed into his heart - Zach was a vault.
That, and unfortunately it wasn’t his business. Zach knew it and so did Chris. So they moved on.
“Hey guys, come on in.” Zach greeted the couple cheerfully at the door, offering Beau a double-cheek kiss and a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “Welcome to our humble abode.”
“Oh my gosh, Zach - what a beautiful home you have!” Beau barrelled into the room with her usual self-assurance, looking this way and that with a bright smile. Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered in, quietly surveying the Quinto brothers’ homestead.
Despite him and Joe’s disagreements from time to time, living together had always made sense. Both of them had moved from the east coast to the west within the span of three years, and it had been logical on a financial level to stick together. Saving money was easier when they were splitting the rent - well, and it helped to fund Zach’s hat and scarf addiction.
Joe ran a pretty lucrative portrait business. He photographed everything from movie stars, to families, to giving Zach’s clients a discount on their wedding photos. Today they wouldn’t be doing official wedding portraits - this was more a casual, fun session to commemorate their individual personalities outside of a wedding dress and tux. This would celebrate them.
Zach grinned. “You sound surprised that two men can keep a house neat, Beau.”
“Well, you’ve seen Christopher’s office.”
The cat padded into the room, making a beeline for the man in question. Chris knelt and held out a hand for Harold to sniff. After a few seconds, the finicky feline deemed his approval and bumped Chris’ fingertips.
A wide smile of delight lit Chris’ face as he murmured something to Harold. The cat apparently loved whatever sweet-talk he was receiving, because he ended up rubbing his side along Chris’ knees.
Zach blinked and turned to Beau. “Sorry, what was that?”
Beau’s attention had also fallen to her fiancé. Her grey eyes warmed and a half-smile quirked her rosy lips. She flicked her glance to Zach and waved away the question with a single playful look, as if she understood what had momentarily captivated Zach’s attention.
Well, that was a little awkward. Maybe not for Beau, but it left Zach feeling rattled and exposed.
Zach cleared his throat. “Let’s go find Joe. He’s probably setting up in the studio.”
Beau bit her bottom lip in excitement. “A studio in your own house! That must be fun. I bet you get up to all sorts of things in there.”
Chris sputtered a quiet laugh and Zach boggled at Beau. “Girl, get your mind out of the gutter. A man would have to be damn fine to tempt me into doing the dirty in my brother’s studio. Jeez.”
“And why don’t you have a damn fine man to tempt you, Zachary?”
“Um, standards?” Zach said as they walked into Joe’s studio.
“Who has standards?” Joe chimed in with a grin. “No one in this house.” He approached Beau and Chris with his usual jovial attitude and greeted them both with a firm handshake.
He began to lead them over to the plain white backdrop when Zach caught Chris’ eye. His features were tight and his expression drawn.
Zach frowned and gingerly tugged Chris’ elbow, pulling him aside. “You okay?”
Chris aimed a half-hearted smile at Zach and mumbled, “I’m fine, man”, before dislodging himself from Zach’s grip. He approached Joe and, much to Zach’s surprise, began to ask his brother about the lenses he would be using today.
Beau came to Zach’s shoulder. “Chris hates having his picture taken,” she said lightly. She aimed an adoring look Chris’ way.
Chris hadn’t heard. He was intent on discussing Joe’s photography equipment, or something technical that Zach had no interest in. With Joe, Chris’ face opened up with interest. God, his eyes practically sparkled like a Disney characters’. Who was Zach kidding? The man was a freaking prince.
Which was why Zach was particularly surprised to hear this news. “Really? I mean, I knew he was shy, but... how did he manage excelling in theatre with all of those eyes on him?”
Beau shrugged. “You’d have to ask him. When he’s on stage, he’s a different person.”
“He has presence,” Zach said.
Beau gave him a look out of the corner of her eye and laughed. “Yes, I suppose he does. It’s like we can’t go anywhere without people noticing him, you know? I guess that’s why he prefers to be behind the camera if he has the choice. In his personal life, everyone wants a piece of him.”
Her words felt unusually heavy. Zach couldn’t put a finger on the reason. He swallowed a lump in his throat and met Beau’s eyes. But she was staring at Chris, her gaze stormy.
Then she was smiling and clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, boys. Let’s get started.”
“Sounds good to me,” Joe said and gestured to the backdrop. Two high stools sat before it. “Why don’t you guys sit down for me?”
They did as they were told, and Beau scooted her stool closer to Chris. He was eyeing the camera distrustfully, as if it were a dog about to snap.
Zach slouched on the couch behind Joe and folded his legs beneath him. When Chris darted a look Zach’s way and licked his chapped lips, Zach smiled encouragingly and gave him a thumbs up.
Poor guy. It was kind of cute, the way he was so unaware of his body.
Joe took his camera off the tripod. “I’m just going to take some preliminary shots. You guys just relax. Get into each other.”
Zach watched silently for a few minutes as Beau murmured in Chris’ ear, in attempts to ease the stiffness in his posture. Chris’ lips curved awkward and lopsided, his eyes hinging on the camera at Joe’s face.
Zach said, “Just pretend we’re all naked, Chris.”
Beau giggled into the crook of her fiancé’s neck. Chris’ cheeks went red and his gaze lingered on Zach.
Joe tsked. “Zach, stop sexually harassing my clients.”
“They were my clients first. I can be as inappropriate as I like as long as they don’t fire me. I could take off my clothes right now.”
“No one wants to see that, Zach.”
“I do!” Beau said, perking up.
Feeling inspired, Zach jumped from the sofa and made his way to Joe’s iPod dock.
“Got anything good on here?”
Joe’s shutter snapped away. It was clear that he wasn’t about to notify the couple when he was technically beginning. “What? I don’t know. What is it you listen to, again? Cher and the Scissor Sisters?”
Zach pursed his lips and thumbed through the song selection. “I choose not to be offended by your broad generalisation of my character, because that happens to be true. Ah, here we go. This’ll loosen you guys up.”
A familiar little jingle from back in the day carried through the air and Zach cranked the volume. One knee was already popping to the beat and his ass quickly caught up with sporadic swaying. On the mark, Zach turned on his heel with a wide grin and mouthed along to Janet Jackson. “Back on the road again, feelin’ kinda lonely and lookin’ for the right guy to be mine.”
Zach’s attention locked on Chris, who was blinking with a blank expression. Beau was trying to stifle her laughter.
That wasn’t enough, of course. Zach’s shoulders began to move with the music, his facial expressions exaggerated to the lyrics. “Friends say I’m crazy, ‘cause easily I fall in love. You gotta do it different J, this time.”
The music was too loud to hear what Beau said in Chris’ ear, but a genuine smile broke through like the sun from the clouds. From what Zach could see of Joe’s camera-covered profile, he was grinning as he got the shots for which he’d hoped.
Zach sashayed with exaggerated hip movement towards the couple, remaining behind Joe at all times. He bit his lip and fluttered his eyelashes before bursting into the next stanza. “Maybe we’ll meet at a bar - he’ll drive a funky car. Maybe we’ll meet at a club and fall so deeply in love.”
His eyes found Chris’, who was actually beginning to tear up from the performance. “He’ll tell me I’m the one and we’ll have so much fun. I’ll be the girl of his dreams, maybe.”
Zach’s own grin was threatening to overpower his ability to mouth the words, but in the name of comedy he just couldn’t help himself. He raised his arms and rolled his hips into a frightful rendition of a belly-dance. “All right, maybe gonna find him today. I gotta get someone to call my lover - yeah, baby, come on.”
Somewhere halfway through the song, and Zach was miming that he was serenading his brother - who was pointedly not looking at him, and continued to take photographs of the jubilant couple.
Beau and Chris were nearly collapsed upon each other with the force of their laughter. Beau would calm herself long enough to look at Zach - who would wink lewdly and mouth, “I love hard with everything.” - at which she would completely crack up.
Chris scrubbed his hands over his face and dared a look Zach’s way. Zach made bedroom eyes and crooked a welcoming finger in his direction. “My my, lookin’ for a guy guy. I don’t want him too shy, but he’s gotta have the qualities I like in a man - strong, smart, affectionate. He’s gotta be all for me, and I’ll be too.”
Something flashed and darkened Chris’ eyes, before he shifted and brushed his nose against Beau’s cheek.
The song concluded with some more totally awesome dancing on Zach’s part - okay, he probably looked like a geriatric with a hip replacement, but it didn’t matter. By the end of it all, even Joe had set aside his camera and was gasping for air.
Beau’s eye makeup was a disaster as she wiped beneath them with her fingers. She took a heaving breath to calm herself. “Oh my goodness, Zach - can you please just come home with us and do this every day?”
Zach sauntered to the iPod dock and turned down the volume to a low murmur. “Sorry honey, lap dances are an extra fee.”
“So worth it,” Beau said and sighed contentedly. She laid her head on Chris’ shoulder and asked Joe, “Did you get anything worth keeping?”
“We won’t know for sure until I put them up on the laptop, but I’ve got a gut feeling there is some pure gold among these photos. I guess my little brother is good for something, after all.”
Zach linked his hands above his head and took a long stretch. “I’m good at a multitude of things, Joe. They’re just talents in which you’d best remain ignorant.”
“You’re gross.”
“I’m insulted.”
“Nothing insults you.”
Zach thought on that and grinned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So -” Zach turned to Chris. “Was that a painful experience?”
Chris slid off the stool and shook his head, smiling to himself. “Only for my ribs. Thanks, Zach. You certainly are special.”
Zach’s smile faltered, and he didn’t know why. He also didn’t know why he felt vaguely insulted.
***
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