Ficlet: Leopard Print
Title: Leopard Print
Word Count: 2158
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Chris makes Zach wear heels. Part of the Chris’ PWP Revenge Series
Warnings: PWP and fluff.
Disclaimer: None of this is true.
Zach stretches his toes and rolls onto his side. With his eyes still closed, he stretches his arm out, hoping to find Chris’ body next to him, warm and sleepy, but instead there’s just cool sheets and empty space. Sighing, Zach cracks his eyes open and is surprised to see a pair of women’s heels on Chris’ pillow.
He sits up, rubs the sleep from his eyes, and casts another bewildered glance at the shoes. Chris and his shoe obsession, Zach thinks. Zach musters up the energy to crawl out from under the sheets and thump his feet across the hardwood floor to the kitchen where he can smell fresh coffee brewing and hear Chris milling about.
“Mmmrhmm” he mumbles and shuffles over to Chris, who’s perched on a barstool at the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee, reading the paper with his black-framed glasses. Zach wraps his arms around Chris from behind, presses his face into the crook of Chris’ neck, and breathes in.
“Morning to you, too,” Chris says. He turns his head and places a kiss in Zach’s hair. “Did you see your present?”
Zach hums into Chris’ skin, enjoying the way his chest rumbles under Zach’s hands when he speaks. “What present?”
“Your shoes.”
Zach stills. “My shoes?”
Chris folds the newspaper and sets it down so he can twist in Zach’s embraces. He’s smiling, not in the most innocent way, and nods. Running his hands up Zach’s back, Chris places a small kiss on the corner of Zach’s mouth.
“Yeah,” Chris breathes. “Remember when that thing you did where you made me watch that thing and I was annoyed and I said you were going to make it up to me? Guess what? You’re going to be wearing those pretty shoes all day.”
Pulling away, Zach frowns and shakes his head. “No.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t make me.” He glares at Chris, narrowing his eyes and hoping that his most menacing Sylar face will convince Chris that he can’t be coerced into anything.
“Do it or you’ll never taste my man batter again,” Chris threatens him.
“You didn’t just say ‘man batter’.”
Chris hops off the barstool and slaps Zach’s ass. “Shower?”
“Together?” Zach asks.
“Duh,” Chris says, rolling his eyes.
Twenty minutes and two satisfying mutual handjobs later, Zach is toweling off his hair in the bedroom as Chris pulls on a pair of grey briefs.
“Those are mine,” Zach comments.
“I know,” Chris says with a smile. “And so are those shoes. I personally think they’d look amazing with that one pair of dark skinny jeans you have, but you know, whatever you think works best.”
Zach steps into his underwear and eyes the leopard print four-inch stiletto heels and cringes. “I can’t wear those, Chris. I’ve never been able to walk in heels. I’m going to break my neck trying to walk in those.”
“Can you at least try? For me?” Chris pouts and rubs his hand over his crotch lewdly. “Maaan baaat-terrrr,” he purrs in a sing-songy voice.
Shimmying into his skin-tight jeans, Zach cringes again. “When you say it like that, it really has far less appeal than you might think.”
Suddenly, Chris tackles him onto the bed, pinning him down and straddling him. He laughs and grinds his hips on Zach’s denim-clad thigh.
“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”
“Okay, alright,” Zach huffs. “Get off me and help me put them on,” he agrees reluctantly.
Chris grabs the shoes and sits on the floor by the foot of the bed as Zach sits with this legs dangling off the edge. Gingerly, he slides the shoes on Zach’s feet and caresses them lovingly, almost reverently.
“So hot,” he murmurs.
“I don’t know. They feel too tight.”
“No they don’t,” Chris quickly protests. “They’re your size, I checked.”
“They don’t feel right.”
“They’re fine. C’mon, let’s go walk Noah.”
Zach’s eyes nearly fall out of his head. “Walk Noah?!” he screeches. “No. No. No, I’m not leaving the house in these. Are you kidding?” He tries to toe off the shoes, but the pointed toes make it difficult.
“The whole point of you wearing them is so you have them on in public. Jesus, I’m going to get off so fucking hard tonight,” Chris says and palms his crotch.
“Someone’s going to see! And what will they think?!”
“I don’t know? That you’re doing some stupid stunt for a BTD project? You traipsed around with a guy dressed up as a steak and you’re worried about what people will think if you’re wearing women’s shoes?”
Zach glares at Chris again. His eyes flicker down to where his boyfriend is already hard in his cotton briefs. Chris is really enjoying this. With a sigh, Zach pushes himself off the bed and stands unsteadily in the shoes. His body keeps wanting to pitch forward, but he straightens his posture, throws his shoulders back, and uses his yoga training to find an acceptable balance between his toes and his heels.
Chris enthusiastically hugs him, rubs his head on Zach’s chest, and stares at him with round eyes and enlarged pupils, like a cat snuggling his favorite catnip toy.
“I love you.” He gives Zach another squeeze and takes a few steps back. “Walk toward me.”
Zach takes two shaky steps before the heel of the shoe on his right foot slips unexpectedly. His arms flail out wildly and his feet go in opposite directions. Zach ends up crashing ungracefully to the floor on his ass, his legs splayed out in front of him. In a flash, Chris is crouched at his side, a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“You alright?” Chris asks.
Zach nods weakly. “I think so.”
“Cool. I’ll go get Noah’s leash.” And before Zach can object, Chris skips out of the bedroom.
Zach demands that Chris bring his dinner to him on the couch. He’s cranky and pissy and determined to not take another step unless it’s to the bedroom to shuck these shoes forever.
Save for the few moments of relief when Chris wasn’t looking and he slid the shoes off, Zach has been suffering and teetering around on those damn shoes all day. In the beginning, he was holding onto whatever pieces of furniture, or the walls even, to get himself around the house. It was as if he was five again and learning how to maneuver around the hockey rink on ice skates. The scrapes and scratches long his arms are like battle scars from falling onto the pavement during his trips outside. By noon, Zach had resolved to stay indoors for the rest of the day.
Eventually, they finish dinner and sit silently in front of the TV while Zach sulks. Chris relents and helps Zach walk to the bedroom even though it’s still early in the night. Zach drops heavily onto the bed and flops back, his arms out to the side. Chris climbs up next to him and rubs his chest.
“I’m so proud of you. I know you hated it but all day I wanted throw you up against the wall and fuck you,” Chris whispers in his ear.
“I can’t feel my feet,” Zach says petulantly.
Chris grins. “You would make the shittiest drag queen.” He tilts his head to the side. “You wouldn’t happen to have a corset, would you?”
“Umm, no?”
“Too bad.”
He’s too exhausted to sit back up, so Zach lets Chris gently shift him to the head of the bed. He slowly strips Zach, kissing and licking every inch of skin that’s revealed, and replaces the shoes on his feet after he’s pulled off Zach’s jeans and briefs. Quickly, Chris loses all of his own clothes and stretches himself over Zach’s naked body.
They’re kissing and rubbing their cocks together frantically when Chris smoothes a hand down Zach’s leg and bends his knee, guiding it up to Zach’s chest. He wraps a hand around Zach’s calf and turns his head to nuzzle the inside of Zach’s ankle.
“Let me fuck you in these?” Chris’ question comes out as puffy breaths against Zach’s skin. It’s both amusing and endearing to Zach that Chris felt he had to ask permission, like this isn’t what he had been waiting for the entire day. It makes Zach’s chest clench affectionately.
“Yeah,” he whispers back. His cock is throbbing and begging to be touched. The fact that his pinky toes will probably shrivel up and die soon feels of lesser importance.
The mattress dips next to him as Chris crawls over to the nightstand. Minutes later, Zach is arching off the bed, his legs spread wide, bent at the knees, heels planted on either side of Chris as the pad of his middle finger brushes over the small bump inside Zach.
“You’re so fucking amazing like this,” Chris says and twists his fingers. His other hand cards through the hair on Zach’s abdomen, tugging on it. “I love your manly man hair,” he says with a grin. His hand wanders lower, into denser hair, and squeezes the base of Zach’s cock. Chris places a kiss under the ridge of Zach’s cock before he licks into the slit, pulling his head back and proudly showing off the thread of spit and precome that connects the tip of his tongue to the swollen head. Zach whines at the sight and clenches his hole around Chris’ fingers.
Giving Zach another mischievous grin, Chris swirls his tongue around the swollen head of Zach’s dick and sucks it down, his pink lips stretching around it. Chris moans and inhales through his nose. Sliding his lips along Zach’s length, he presses on Zach’s prostate. The white hot spark that flares up Zach’s spine makes him buck his hips and he shoves his cock down Chris’ throat. Zach reaches down and cups Chris’ cheek, silently apologizing for accidentally making him choke. With a nudge, he signals for Chris to pull off.
After he smears some lube on his cock, Chris lines up and slowly pushes into Zach. It feels like an eternity before Chris is finally fully buried all the way inside him. Zach contorts one leg and rubs the shoe on Chris’ cheek.
“You like that?”
“Yeah,” Chris pants.
“C’mon. Fuck me.”
Guiding Zach’s leg over his shoulder, Chris slides out, inch by inch, until just his head remains sheathed by Zach’s warmth, and slams back in. They both howl and Chris wraps his arms around Zach. For a while, Chris pumps shallowly in and out of Zach. He props himself up with one arm and curls his hand around Zach’s ankle with the other, kissing and rubbing his cheek on it.
With one hand on Chris’ snapping hips and the other gripping the sheets, Zach arches his back and rolls his hips. He hooks his other leg over Chris’ waist and pulls him closer. Zach looks Chris in the eye and runs his hands up and down his sweat-slick chest once before taking Chris’ hands and placing them on the headboard above his head. Zach grabs two handfuls of Chris’ ass and begins to fucks himself onto Chris in time with his boyfriend’s thrusts while his cock bounces and slaps between their bellies.
When Chris’ rhythm falters momentarily, Zach tightens the leg that’s around his waist, digging the spiked heel right into his ass cheek. It forces Chris closer, and puts pressure on the base of Zach’s cock, trapping it between them. Zach quickly sneaks his hand down to give himself a few hard but short tugs. Chris’ body tenses, his breath hitching, and he comes with a sound so primal that it sets off Zach’s orgasm, his balls tightening seconds before his dick pulses and spills over both of them.
Chris ends up collapsed on top of Zach, gasping for air and moaning while Zach pets his back. He gathers the strength to push himself up and smiles goofily at Zach.
“Gotta take care of those blisters, dude.”
Slowly, Chris slides out of Zach and pads to the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth, a tube of Neosporin, and a box of bandages. After he’s wiped Zach down, he arranges them so they’re head to toe on the bed and removes the shoes to tend to the red and bleeding sores on Zach’s feet. He winces at a particularly nasty looking blister above Zach’s big toe.
“You’re incredible,” he says quietly, eyes meeting Zach’s. He kisses Zach’s bandaged foot and smiles. “I know it hurt like hell and I’ll never ask you to do it again, so... thank you.”
Zach places a hand on Chris’ foot, squeezes, and presses his cheek into the arch. “I’m not opposed to putting them on for, you know, bedroom purposes. Just no more trips to the grocery store. That was awful.”
Zach closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep with the tender pressures of Chris’ fingers giving him a foot massage.
Word Count: 2158
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Chris makes Zach wear heels. Part of the Chris’ PWP Revenge Series
Warnings: PWP and fluff.
Disclaimer: None of this is true.
Zach stretches his toes and rolls onto his side. With his eyes still closed, he stretches his arm out, hoping to find Chris’ body next to him, warm and sleepy, but instead there’s just cool sheets and empty space. Sighing, Zach cracks his eyes open and is surprised to see a pair of women’s heels on Chris’ pillow.
He sits up, rubs the sleep from his eyes, and casts another bewildered glance at the shoes. Chris and his shoe obsession, Zach thinks. Zach musters up the energy to crawl out from under the sheets and thump his feet across the hardwood floor to the kitchen where he can smell fresh coffee brewing and hear Chris milling about.
“Mmmrhmm” he mumbles and shuffles over to Chris, who’s perched on a barstool at the breakfast bar with a cup of coffee, reading the paper with his black-framed glasses. Zach wraps his arms around Chris from behind, presses his face into the crook of Chris’ neck, and breathes in.
“Morning to you, too,” Chris says. He turns his head and places a kiss in Zach’s hair. “Did you see your present?”
Zach hums into Chris’ skin, enjoying the way his chest rumbles under Zach’s hands when he speaks. “What present?”
“Your shoes.”
Zach stills. “My shoes?”
Chris folds the newspaper and sets it down so he can twist in Zach’s embraces. He’s smiling, not in the most innocent way, and nods. Running his hands up Zach’s back, Chris places a small kiss on the corner of Zach’s mouth.
“Yeah,” Chris breathes. “Remember when that thing you did where you made me watch that thing and I was annoyed and I said you were going to make it up to me? Guess what? You’re going to be wearing those pretty shoes all day.”
Pulling away, Zach frowns and shakes his head. “No.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t make me.” He glares at Chris, narrowing his eyes and hoping that his most menacing Sylar face will convince Chris that he can’t be coerced into anything.
“Do it or you’ll never taste my man batter again,” Chris threatens him.
“You didn’t just say ‘man batter’.”
Chris hops off the barstool and slaps Zach’s ass. “Shower?”
“Together?” Zach asks.
“Duh,” Chris says, rolling his eyes.
Twenty minutes and two satisfying mutual handjobs later, Zach is toweling off his hair in the bedroom as Chris pulls on a pair of grey briefs.
“Those are mine,” Zach comments.
“I know,” Chris says with a smile. “And so are those shoes. I personally think they’d look amazing with that one pair of dark skinny jeans you have, but you know, whatever you think works best.”
Zach steps into his underwear and eyes the leopard print four-inch stiletto heels and cringes. “I can’t wear those, Chris. I’ve never been able to walk in heels. I’m going to break my neck trying to walk in those.”
“Can you at least try? For me?” Chris pouts and rubs his hand over his crotch lewdly. “Maaan baaat-terrrr,” he purrs in a sing-songy voice.
Shimmying into his skin-tight jeans, Zach cringes again. “When you say it like that, it really has far less appeal than you might think.”
Suddenly, Chris tackles him onto the bed, pinning him down and straddling him. He laughs and grinds his hips on Zach’s denim-clad thigh.
“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”
“Okay, alright,” Zach huffs. “Get off me and help me put them on,” he agrees reluctantly.
Chris grabs the shoes and sits on the floor by the foot of the bed as Zach sits with this legs dangling off the edge. Gingerly, he slides the shoes on Zach’s feet and caresses them lovingly, almost reverently.
“So hot,” he murmurs.
“I don’t know. They feel too tight.”
“No they don’t,” Chris quickly protests. “They’re your size, I checked.”
“They don’t feel right.”
“They’re fine. C’mon, let’s go walk Noah.”
Zach’s eyes nearly fall out of his head. “Walk Noah?!” he screeches. “No. No. No, I’m not leaving the house in these. Are you kidding?” He tries to toe off the shoes, but the pointed toes make it difficult.
“The whole point of you wearing them is so you have them on in public. Jesus, I’m going to get off so fucking hard tonight,” Chris says and palms his crotch.
“Someone’s going to see! And what will they think?!”
“I don’t know? That you’re doing some stupid stunt for a BTD project? You traipsed around with a guy dressed up as a steak and you’re worried about what people will think if you’re wearing women’s shoes?”
Zach glares at Chris again. His eyes flicker down to where his boyfriend is already hard in his cotton briefs. Chris is really enjoying this. With a sigh, Zach pushes himself off the bed and stands unsteadily in the shoes. His body keeps wanting to pitch forward, but he straightens his posture, throws his shoulders back, and uses his yoga training to find an acceptable balance between his toes and his heels.
Chris enthusiastically hugs him, rubs his head on Zach’s chest, and stares at him with round eyes and enlarged pupils, like a cat snuggling his favorite catnip toy.
“I love you.” He gives Zach another squeeze and takes a few steps back. “Walk toward me.”
Zach takes two shaky steps before the heel of the shoe on his right foot slips unexpectedly. His arms flail out wildly and his feet go in opposite directions. Zach ends up crashing ungracefully to the floor on his ass, his legs splayed out in front of him. In a flash, Chris is crouched at his side, a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“You alright?” Chris asks.
Zach nods weakly. “I think so.”
“Cool. I’ll go get Noah’s leash.” And before Zach can object, Chris skips out of the bedroom.
Zach demands that Chris bring his dinner to him on the couch. He’s cranky and pissy and determined to not take another step unless it’s to the bedroom to shuck these shoes forever.
Save for the few moments of relief when Chris wasn’t looking and he slid the shoes off, Zach has been suffering and teetering around on those damn shoes all day. In the beginning, he was holding onto whatever pieces of furniture, or the walls even, to get himself around the house. It was as if he was five again and learning how to maneuver around the hockey rink on ice skates. The scrapes and scratches long his arms are like battle scars from falling onto the pavement during his trips outside. By noon, Zach had resolved to stay indoors for the rest of the day.
Eventually, they finish dinner and sit silently in front of the TV while Zach sulks. Chris relents and helps Zach walk to the bedroom even though it’s still early in the night. Zach drops heavily onto the bed and flops back, his arms out to the side. Chris climbs up next to him and rubs his chest.
“I’m so proud of you. I know you hated it but all day I wanted throw you up against the wall and fuck you,” Chris whispers in his ear.
“I can’t feel my feet,” Zach says petulantly.
Chris grins. “You would make the shittiest drag queen.” He tilts his head to the side. “You wouldn’t happen to have a corset, would you?”
“Umm, no?”
“Too bad.”
He’s too exhausted to sit back up, so Zach lets Chris gently shift him to the head of the bed. He slowly strips Zach, kissing and licking every inch of skin that’s revealed, and replaces the shoes on his feet after he’s pulled off Zach’s jeans and briefs. Quickly, Chris loses all of his own clothes and stretches himself over Zach’s naked body.
They’re kissing and rubbing their cocks together frantically when Chris smoothes a hand down Zach’s leg and bends his knee, guiding it up to Zach’s chest. He wraps a hand around Zach’s calf and turns his head to nuzzle the inside of Zach’s ankle.
“Let me fuck you in these?” Chris’ question comes out as puffy breaths against Zach’s skin. It’s both amusing and endearing to Zach that Chris felt he had to ask permission, like this isn’t what he had been waiting for the entire day. It makes Zach’s chest clench affectionately.
“Yeah,” he whispers back. His cock is throbbing and begging to be touched. The fact that his pinky toes will probably shrivel up and die soon feels of lesser importance.
The mattress dips next to him as Chris crawls over to the nightstand. Minutes later, Zach is arching off the bed, his legs spread wide, bent at the knees, heels planted on either side of Chris as the pad of his middle finger brushes over the small bump inside Zach.
“You’re so fucking amazing like this,” Chris says and twists his fingers. His other hand cards through the hair on Zach’s abdomen, tugging on it. “I love your manly man hair,” he says with a grin. His hand wanders lower, into denser hair, and squeezes the base of Zach’s cock. Chris places a kiss under the ridge of Zach’s cock before he licks into the slit, pulling his head back and proudly showing off the thread of spit and precome that connects the tip of his tongue to the swollen head. Zach whines at the sight and clenches his hole around Chris’ fingers.
Giving Zach another mischievous grin, Chris swirls his tongue around the swollen head of Zach’s dick and sucks it down, his pink lips stretching around it. Chris moans and inhales through his nose. Sliding his lips along Zach’s length, he presses on Zach’s prostate. The white hot spark that flares up Zach’s spine makes him buck his hips and he shoves his cock down Chris’ throat. Zach reaches down and cups Chris’ cheek, silently apologizing for accidentally making him choke. With a nudge, he signals for Chris to pull off.
After he smears some lube on his cock, Chris lines up and slowly pushes into Zach. It feels like an eternity before Chris is finally fully buried all the way inside him. Zach contorts one leg and rubs the shoe on Chris’ cheek.
“You like that?”
“Yeah,” Chris pants.
“C’mon. Fuck me.”
Guiding Zach’s leg over his shoulder, Chris slides out, inch by inch, until just his head remains sheathed by Zach’s warmth, and slams back in. They both howl and Chris wraps his arms around Zach. For a while, Chris pumps shallowly in and out of Zach. He props himself up with one arm and curls his hand around Zach’s ankle with the other, kissing and rubbing his cheek on it.
With one hand on Chris’ snapping hips and the other gripping the sheets, Zach arches his back and rolls his hips. He hooks his other leg over Chris’ waist and pulls him closer. Zach looks Chris in the eye and runs his hands up and down his sweat-slick chest once before taking Chris’ hands and placing them on the headboard above his head. Zach grabs two handfuls of Chris’ ass and begins to fucks himself onto Chris in time with his boyfriend’s thrusts while his cock bounces and slaps between their bellies.
When Chris’ rhythm falters momentarily, Zach tightens the leg that’s around his waist, digging the spiked heel right into his ass cheek. It forces Chris closer, and puts pressure on the base of Zach’s cock, trapping it between them. Zach quickly sneaks his hand down to give himself a few hard but short tugs. Chris’ body tenses, his breath hitching, and he comes with a sound so primal that it sets off Zach’s orgasm, his balls tightening seconds before his dick pulses and spills over both of them.
Chris ends up collapsed on top of Zach, gasping for air and moaning while Zach pets his back. He gathers the strength to push himself up and smiles goofily at Zach.
“Gotta take care of those blisters, dude.”
Slowly, Chris slides out of Zach and pads to the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth, a tube of Neosporin, and a box of bandages. After he’s wiped Zach down, he arranges them so they’re head to toe on the bed and removes the shoes to tend to the red and bleeding sores on Zach’s feet. He winces at a particularly nasty looking blister above Zach’s big toe.
“You’re incredible,” he says quietly, eyes meeting Zach’s. He kisses Zach’s bandaged foot and smiles. “I know it hurt like hell and I’ll never ask you to do it again, so... thank you.”
Zach places a hand on Chris’ foot, squeezes, and presses his cheek into the arch. “I’m not opposed to putting them on for, you know, bedroom purposes. Just no more trips to the grocery store. That was awful.”
Zach closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep with the tender pressures of Chris’ fingers giving him a foot massage.