Fic: Whitelaw Books, Chapter 2
Title: Whitelaw Books, Chapter 2: Louder than sirens, louder than bells
Word Count: 3400
Pairing: Pinto AU
Rating: R
Summary: Chris and Zach deal with being a couple and some challenges that might come with being in a Deaf/hearing relationship.
Warnings: Fluff and romance. Mild angst. Deaf character.
Disclaimer: Not a word of this is true.
A/N: Thanks to garden_hoe21 for beta reading this and giving me some really helpful feedback. The title is taken from Florence + The Machine's “Drumming Song”.
Continued from Chapter 1: Whitelaw Books // Whitelaw Books Master Post
“Are you sure that’s how it’s spelled?”
Chris flipped through his dictionary and jabbed his finger at the open page with a huge grin. Zach sighed dramatically and counted up the points. On one hand, Zach hated losing at Scrabble. On the other hand, Chris was really adorable when he was smug.
Summer was nearly over and a month had passed since Zach and Chris had met at the bookstore. However, they had yet to spend the night together. Things were moving at a pace much slower than what Zach was used to, and if it had been anyone else, he probably would’ve given up by now. The strange thing was that Zach didn’t really seem to mind.
Chris was far more interesting than anyone Zach had met, much less dated, in recent memory. He genuinely enjoyed the time they spent flirting and discussing books, politics, philosophy, art, or anything; there wasn’t a topic that Chris didn’t know at least something about. As though that wasn’t enough, Chris had a playful sense of humor that never failed to amuse Zach. It was funny how Chris could be completely thoughtful and serious at times and then ten minutes later be excitedly going on about something else, hands flying everywhere, bouncing in his seat or on his heels, like a puppy straining at his leash.
Zach told himself that Chris was someone he would’ve been friends with anyway. The flirting was an added bonus.
It wasn’t until after their third coffee date that they kissed. Chris had led him down the furthest aisle of the store and abruptly pulled him into the same corner where Chris had sat the first day they met. Chris looked around hesitantly before pressing Zach up against the end of the tall bookshelf with his hips. He laid his palms flat on Zach’s chest and slowly slid his hands up to cup his face, pulling Zach toward him until their lips met in the lightest of kisses. Chris pulled back and looked at Zach, his blue doe-shaped eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability, question, and want. Tipping his head forward and closing his eyes, Zach kissed Chris with as much reassurance as he’d ever poured into a simple kiss. As his arms wrapped around Chris’ narrow waist, the only sound he was aware of was the rush of the blood through his veins, his pulse pounding in his head. He was sure that Chris could hear it too, through the fingers curled around the nape of his neck and the thumb rubbing along his jaw.
Before that, their physical contact was limited to their hands when Chris would guide Zach’s fingers, folding them into new words. Zach’s vocabulary plateaued for several days after that, their tactile lessons quickly devolving into shameless groping. He learned that Chris’ gestures and posture revealed a lot of what he was thinking while his eyes gave away his emotions. It was as though they had a secret language of hands, looks, words, and laughter that belonged only to them.
'I won,' Chris signed. 'Again.'
'I know,' Zach signed with a smile.
Zach knew from the start that Chris could speak. Chris had explained how he’d gone to an elementary and high school for Deaf students where he learned ASL and took classes for speech therapy and lipreading. He confessed to Zach that he preferred to speak only in front of people he knew or in dire situations. Chris explained that it wasn’t out of protest, but he’d just been conditioned that way since he was little. It took a moment for Zach to realize that it was probably because Chris was teased when he was younger and he felt a special kind of hate rise in him for the children who taunted Chris into silence.
Even though Chris would write or speak to Zach whenever they were together, Zach insisted that Chris also sign everything so he could learn as much of the language as possible. Conversations would take a lot longer, and Chris would sometimes grow impatient with having to stop mid-sentence to explain something to Zach. Zach would teasingly pout and Chris was quick to forgive the minor interruptions.
Zach had meant to leave about an hour ago, but Chris insisted that they play another round and of course he agreed. He glanced at the clock and stretched.
They finished putting away the letters and Zach stood up to gather his things. As he turned from the couch, he almost swung his shoulder right into Chris, who had snuck up behind him. Zach wound his arms around him and was about to kiss him when he noticed how nervous Chris seemed, his eyes wide and not meeting Zach’s. He leaned back and placed his hands on Chris’ arms, ducking his head to capture his gaze.
“What is it?” Zach asked quietly.
Chris took a deep breath and looked at Zach with wide eyes. He signed something Zach didn’t recognize. With a furrowed brow, Zach signed that he didn’t understand.
“Stay,” Chris asked hesitantly. He tugged gently on Zach’s shirt tail.
“Yeah,” Zach replied.
In a flurry of kisses and touches, Zach enthusiastically began undressing Chris, who was laughing and trying unsuccessfully to undress Zach. Before he knew it, Zach had him cornered by his nightstand, wearing only his boxers. For a moment, Chris appeared shy as he climbed on the bed and dimmed the lights instead of turning them completely off. Chris looked at Zach and tilted his head, making sure that Zach was comfortable with leaving the light on. Chris then laid back on the bed, head on a pillow, eyelids heavy, and watched as Zach hopped around trying to rid himself of his shirt, socks, skin tight jeans, and black briefs.
Zach managed to pull the second pant leg off when his jaw dropped at the offensive sound. He looked over at Chris, pale skin glowing under the low light, with his eyes closed. Snoring.
Zach crawled up from the foot of the bed, still in his underwear, and stretched out carefully next to Chris. It hadn’t taken him that long to wriggle out of his clothes; he couldn’t believe Chris had fallen asleep so quickly. Not wanting to wake him, Zach just watched Chris breathe and studied his face: his chapped lips slightly parted, his eyelashes like dark fans, a faint freckle he hadn’t noticed before. Then one eye slowly opened, revealing a blue that Zach swore was unmatched by anything in nature, as a playful smile formed on Chris’s face.
“Oh, I hate you,” Zach said mockingly and turned away from Chris.
Chris laughed and pushed Zach onto his back. He had wondered what it would be like to feel Chris’ hands on him, those nimble and deft little fingers tracing their way over his skin. Zach had wanted this since that first day at the coffee shop when he saw Chris unwrap a straw and thread it through the lid of his iced coffee.
He watched as his touch brought a warm pink flush to Chris’ face and chest. Chris was skinnier than Zach had thought he would be and more beautiful than Zach could’ve ever imagined, smooth skin over cords of muscles, fit but still soft.
Chris’ eyes remained locked on Zach’s, watching every moan, gasp, and whimper while his fingertips flirted and mapped out Zach’s body. Suddenly, he understood why Chris wanted the lights on.
Narrow hips drove into Zach as he arched into Chris’ touch and pulled him closer. He remembered his breath stuttering before stilling, Chris’ eyes never leaving his.
The next day, he was waiting in his trailer and rooted around in his messenger bag for the book he’d borrowed off Chris’ bookshelf. When he turned to the page where he had left off, the folded napkin he was using as a bookmark had been replaced by strip of paper torn out of Chris’ notebook.
Tell me there’s no one else.
Zach reached for his phone and texted him.
only you.
Winter isn’t really winter in LA, but that crisp smell of chiller air signaled that it was right around the corner. It was already dark by the time Zach finished filming and arrived at Chris’ apartment, right above the bookstore on the third floor. The door to the stairs that led up to the studio was unlocked. Zach figured Chris had left it that way for him and headed up the two flights of stairs. He stopped when he saw that the door to Chris’ apartment was half-open. Carefully, he peered in, hoping Chris had mistakenly left it open and there was no actual danger awaiting him inside.
He watched as Chris and another man were signing furiously with each other near the kitchen. Their hands flew through the air, too quick for Zach to understand what they meant. Zach stood and watched the silent argument until Chris finally threw his arms out to his sides in defeat. It was then that Chris noticed Zach standing half-hidden behind the door. The other man followed the direction of Chris’ gaze and locked eyes with Zach for a brief moment before turning to Chris and signing something that Zach couldn’t see.
Zach nudged the door open and took a step in and stood uncomfortably by the door with his hands in his pockets. The other man walked by him briskly, a disapproving look passing over the man’s face as he looked Zach up and down before leaving and closing the door behind him.
'Are you okay?' Zach signed.
Chris nodded. Zach dropped his messenger bag on the floor next the couch as he slowly walked over to Chris. He leaned on the kitchen counter and waited. Chris sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face.
'My friend. Luke.'
Zach tentatively reached for Chris and was relieved when Chris stepped into his embrace without hesitation. After a moment, Zach pulled back and looked directly into Chris’ eyes and cupped his face. He kissed down the bridge of Chris’ nose and nipped at his bottom lip. Zach rested their foreheads together and closed his eyes. He felt a hand travel up his arm and wrap around his bicep as he breathed in the mixed scent of Chris, his aftershave, and hints of the fabric softener he used.
They stood together for a few minutes before Zach pulled back again. He found a shopping receipt on the countertop and twisted around to reach for a pen. He scribbled, tell me what happened?
Chris’ hand lingered at Zach’s waist and then dropped to his side. He walked over to the couch, sitting heavily. Zach followed and sat sideways and cross-legged, facing Chris.
Chris’ pink tongue darted out and swiped at the corner of his mouth before he began speaking softly, his hands calmly signing along.
“We’ve been friends since elementary school. He heard that I was seeing you and came over to... he just doesn’t want me to get hurt or be disappointed.”
“Hurt or disappointed?” Zach asked. “By me? I don’t understand,” he shook his head.
Chris hesitated. “When this ends. When you decide to... leave or break up or whatever,” he rushed through the last part.
Zach shook his head again, his face contorting in confusion and annoyance. “What? He doesn’t know me,” he sputtered. “Wait, this-- this isn’t all him. You think this too.”
He watched as Chris’ tongue darted out.
“Is there-- we’re not breaking up, are we?”
Chris shook his head.
Zach paused. “Is it cause I’m an actor? You think I’m pretending? That I’m in this for a quick fuck?”
Chris shook his head again. A guilty look crossed his face. “In the past, some people have... he just doesn’t want to see me make the same mistakes again,” he averted his eyes. “He’s made them, too, so he gets it.”
Zach watched Chris carefully. He reached out to get Chris look at him by touching his wrist. “You mean, seeing someone who can hear.” He watched as Chris nodded reluctantly.
Zach took both of his hands into his own, pulling Chris toward him. He eased them both back so that he was lying on the couch with Chris half on top and half tucked next to him, their hands clasps together between them. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, feeling their hearts beating underneath each other’s fingertips. He eventually brought Chris hand up to his mouth.
“Trust me,” he begged. Chris was already asleep.
Zach wanted so badly to make a good impression on Luke at dinner. But it was as if Luke purposely signed as quickly as possible to lose Zach in conversations, then questioning Zach’s stuttered signing with exaggerated motions, emphasizing his poor proficiency. And Zach understood: this is what it’s like to be left out of conversations, to not know what was being said around and about you. Dinner finally ended somewhat awkwardly, with Zach feeling as though he’d been more or less slapped in the face with the big take-home message: he wasn’t, and never would be, good enough for Chris.
They got into their first fight later that night. Zach accused Luke of being an asshole for not giving him a chance, and Chris defended Luke, saying that he was just looking out for Chris. Luke had always been protective of Chris since they were younger and didn’t want to see him get hurt again; Zach found himself wishing that Chris would be a little more protective of him.
“Have I done something wrong? Why are you so fixated on the idea that I’m going to leave you? It’s like you want me to do it!” Zach spat out.
“Cause it always ends that way!” Chris yelled back.
They stood staring at each other, Zach with his arms crossed, Chris licking nervously at his lips. Finally, Zach picked up Chris’ notebook and flipped to a clean page. He grabbed a pen from the coffee table, scribbled angrily in the notebook, and thrusted it open at Chris. Without looking at Chris, Zach grabbed his jacket and left.
Come find me when you’re ready to invest in this relationship instead of preparing yourself for it to be over.
Zach spent the rest of the night alternating between staring at the ceiling and staring at his phone on the nightstand. By dawn, he had given up on sleep and decided to go for a run to clear his head. He opened his front door and nearly tripped over Chris, who was huddled on his doorstep clutching a manila folder to his chest. Chris scrambled to his feet to face Zach with sad and tired eyes behind his black framed glasses, the same glasses Zach had timidly asked him leave on as Chris backed him up against the bed one night last week.
Chris looked down at his hands as he handed Zach the stack of papers. He scratched the back of his head, took a few steps backwards and turned to leave. Zach watched the back of his shoulders as he walked away, already missing the way they felt, strong and sturdy, under his lips and fingertips. He bit his lip as Chris glanced back and gave him a small hopeful smile.
Zach went back inside his house and flipped the folder open. Three yellow post-it notes were stuck to the first page.
I’m ready.
And I’m sorry.
I’m also sorry I killed a forest when I printed these out. Handing you a jump stick didn’tseemasprofound.
He chuckled at the thought of Chris realizing that he was running out of room to write at the bottom of the post-it. He carefully peeled them off the sheet of paper and stuck them to the front of the folder. Scanning the first page and quickly flipping through the first few pages, he realized he was holding something Chris had written.
Zach knew that Chris enjoyed writing, almost as much as he enjoyed reading, but remained vague whenever Zach asked him about it. He’d been writing more seriously again recently, having stopped since his Berkeley days to teach literature at the high school he had attended. Two years ago, Katie asked him if he wanted to have co-ownership of the family bookstore where he had spent his childhood hiding among the stacks of books, reading everything within his reach. Chris jumped at the chance to spend more time at the store and began indulging in his writing again.
Knowing that Chris was so protective of his writing, Zach almost felt as though he was intruding. He spent the rest of the morning sitting on his living room floor reading the short stories and poems Chris had printed out for him. Even though he’d never read anything Chris had written before, he could sense Chris’ presence behind every word, in the sarcastic humor, the palpable heartache. After he read everything twice, he laid down on the floor with Noah at his feet and Harold perched on the couch, and thought about how his heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time.
They were in the midst of a warm streak in February. Chris was on Zach’s laptop in his office looking up driving directions and trail maps for a hiking trail a friend recommended when Zach waved at him from the doorway.
'dog cat feed,' he signed and then gave Chris a double thumbs up. Chris returned the double thumbs up.
After Noah and Harold’s food bowls were filled, Zach went to the bathroom, grabbed a bottle of sunscreen, and packed it into his backpack. He walked by the office, expecting Chris to be done printing the directions and maps, but found him staring at something in his hands. Zach came up behind Chris and gently wrapped his arms around him. Chris twisted in Zach’s arms and held up a DVD case.
“What is this?” Chris asked.
Zach looked at it. “It’s an ASL instructional DVD.”
Chris looked at him blankly.
“I bought it so I could watch it in my trailer in between filming and learn a few extra signs..."
Chris stepped back. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
Zach shrugged and felt the need to cross his arms defensively. “I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t think it was necessary to tell you I bought a DVD.” He held his hands out. “Look, after we had dinner with Luke, I felt like crap. He kept mocking me cause I wasn’t signing things correctly, and then he commented about how quiet I was cause I stopped signing. I know I’ll never be as good at it as you are, but I’m trying,” Zach pleaded.
It took a minute after Zach finished speaking for Chris to ask, “Why are you trying so hard?”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t it make you tired? Don’t you ever think about how difficult this is? All the time and patience it takes to write things back and forth,” he lifted the DVD case, “all the effort this takes. Why do you have endless patience with this? Why would you...” Chris trailed off and shook his head.
Zach’s heart began racing as he stared at Chris and reached a hand out toward him with an upturned palm. “We’ve been through this, Chris.”
“Why?” Chris repeated, tossing the case onto the desk.
“Because I want to be good enough for you.”
Zach sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The words coming out of his mouth were nearly drowned by the echoing pulse rushing through his veins and his head.
“Because I love you and I want you to love me back.”
Chris stared at him hard. Then in a flash he stepped forward and collided with Zach, his mouth hungry and his hands buried in Zach’s hair. Chris broke the kiss just as Zach managed to rest his hands on his waist.
“Say it again,” Chris asked. His hand brushed over Zach’s cheek before his fingers began tracing Zach’s lips.
Chris’ eyes and fingertips were focused on his mouth as Zach breathed, “I love you.”
Zach closed his eyes as Chris buried his face into his neck. Right below his jaw, Zach felt it pressed and repeated into his skin, over and over again: Iloveyou, Iloveyou, Iloveyou.
Chapter 3: I wish a falling star could fall forever
Word Count: 3400
Pairing: Pinto AU
Rating: R
Summary: Chris and Zach deal with being a couple and some challenges that might come with being in a Deaf/hearing relationship.
Warnings: Fluff and romance. Mild angst. Deaf character.
Disclaimer: Not a word of this is true.
A/N: Thanks to garden_hoe21 for beta reading this and giving me some really helpful feedback. The title is taken from Florence + The Machine's “Drumming Song”.
Continued from Chapter 1: Whitelaw Books // Whitelaw Books Master Post
“Are you sure that’s how it’s spelled?”
Chris flipped through his dictionary and jabbed his finger at the open page with a huge grin. Zach sighed dramatically and counted up the points. On one hand, Zach hated losing at Scrabble. On the other hand, Chris was really adorable when he was smug.
Summer was nearly over and a month had passed since Zach and Chris had met at the bookstore. However, they had yet to spend the night together. Things were moving at a pace much slower than what Zach was used to, and if it had been anyone else, he probably would’ve given up by now. The strange thing was that Zach didn’t really seem to mind.
Chris was far more interesting than anyone Zach had met, much less dated, in recent memory. He genuinely enjoyed the time they spent flirting and discussing books, politics, philosophy, art, or anything; there wasn’t a topic that Chris didn’t know at least something about. As though that wasn’t enough, Chris had a playful sense of humor that never failed to amuse Zach. It was funny how Chris could be completely thoughtful and serious at times and then ten minutes later be excitedly going on about something else, hands flying everywhere, bouncing in his seat or on his heels, like a puppy straining at his leash.
Zach told himself that Chris was someone he would’ve been friends with anyway. The flirting was an added bonus.
It wasn’t until after their third coffee date that they kissed. Chris had led him down the furthest aisle of the store and abruptly pulled him into the same corner where Chris had sat the first day they met. Chris looked around hesitantly before pressing Zach up against the end of the tall bookshelf with his hips. He laid his palms flat on Zach’s chest and slowly slid his hands up to cup his face, pulling Zach toward him until their lips met in the lightest of kisses. Chris pulled back and looked at Zach, his blue doe-shaped eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability, question, and want. Tipping his head forward and closing his eyes, Zach kissed Chris with as much reassurance as he’d ever poured into a simple kiss. As his arms wrapped around Chris’ narrow waist, the only sound he was aware of was the rush of the blood through his veins, his pulse pounding in his head. He was sure that Chris could hear it too, through the fingers curled around the nape of his neck and the thumb rubbing along his jaw.
Before that, their physical contact was limited to their hands when Chris would guide Zach’s fingers, folding them into new words. Zach’s vocabulary plateaued for several days after that, their tactile lessons quickly devolving into shameless groping. He learned that Chris’ gestures and posture revealed a lot of what he was thinking while his eyes gave away his emotions. It was as though they had a secret language of hands, looks, words, and laughter that belonged only to them.
'I won,' Chris signed. 'Again.'
'I know,' Zach signed with a smile.
Zach knew from the start that Chris could speak. Chris had explained how he’d gone to an elementary and high school for Deaf students where he learned ASL and took classes for speech therapy and lipreading. He confessed to Zach that he preferred to speak only in front of people he knew or in dire situations. Chris explained that it wasn’t out of protest, but he’d just been conditioned that way since he was little. It took a moment for Zach to realize that it was probably because Chris was teased when he was younger and he felt a special kind of hate rise in him for the children who taunted Chris into silence.
Even though Chris would write or speak to Zach whenever they were together, Zach insisted that Chris also sign everything so he could learn as much of the language as possible. Conversations would take a lot longer, and Chris would sometimes grow impatient with having to stop mid-sentence to explain something to Zach. Zach would teasingly pout and Chris was quick to forgive the minor interruptions.
Zach had meant to leave about an hour ago, but Chris insisted that they play another round and of course he agreed. He glanced at the clock and stretched.
They finished putting away the letters and Zach stood up to gather his things. As he turned from the couch, he almost swung his shoulder right into Chris, who had snuck up behind him. Zach wound his arms around him and was about to kiss him when he noticed how nervous Chris seemed, his eyes wide and not meeting Zach’s. He leaned back and placed his hands on Chris’ arms, ducking his head to capture his gaze.
“What is it?” Zach asked quietly.
Chris took a deep breath and looked at Zach with wide eyes. He signed something Zach didn’t recognize. With a furrowed brow, Zach signed that he didn’t understand.
“Stay,” Chris asked hesitantly. He tugged gently on Zach’s shirt tail.
“Yeah,” Zach replied.
In a flurry of kisses and touches, Zach enthusiastically began undressing Chris, who was laughing and trying unsuccessfully to undress Zach. Before he knew it, Zach had him cornered by his nightstand, wearing only his boxers. For a moment, Chris appeared shy as he climbed on the bed and dimmed the lights instead of turning them completely off. Chris looked at Zach and tilted his head, making sure that Zach was comfortable with leaving the light on. Chris then laid back on the bed, head on a pillow, eyelids heavy, and watched as Zach hopped around trying to rid himself of his shirt, socks, skin tight jeans, and black briefs.
Zach managed to pull the second pant leg off when his jaw dropped at the offensive sound. He looked over at Chris, pale skin glowing under the low light, with his eyes closed. Snoring.
Zach crawled up from the foot of the bed, still in his underwear, and stretched out carefully next to Chris. It hadn’t taken him that long to wriggle out of his clothes; he couldn’t believe Chris had fallen asleep so quickly. Not wanting to wake him, Zach just watched Chris breathe and studied his face: his chapped lips slightly parted, his eyelashes like dark fans, a faint freckle he hadn’t noticed before. Then one eye slowly opened, revealing a blue that Zach swore was unmatched by anything in nature, as a playful smile formed on Chris’s face.
“Oh, I hate you,” Zach said mockingly and turned away from Chris.
Chris laughed and pushed Zach onto his back. He had wondered what it would be like to feel Chris’ hands on him, those nimble and deft little fingers tracing their way over his skin. Zach had wanted this since that first day at the coffee shop when he saw Chris unwrap a straw and thread it through the lid of his iced coffee.
He watched as his touch brought a warm pink flush to Chris’ face and chest. Chris was skinnier than Zach had thought he would be and more beautiful than Zach could’ve ever imagined, smooth skin over cords of muscles, fit but still soft.
Chris’ eyes remained locked on Zach’s, watching every moan, gasp, and whimper while his fingertips flirted and mapped out Zach’s body. Suddenly, he understood why Chris wanted the lights on.
Narrow hips drove into Zach as he arched into Chris’ touch and pulled him closer. He remembered his breath stuttering before stilling, Chris’ eyes never leaving his.
The next day, he was waiting in his trailer and rooted around in his messenger bag for the book he’d borrowed off Chris’ bookshelf. When he turned to the page where he had left off, the folded napkin he was using as a bookmark had been replaced by strip of paper torn out of Chris’ notebook.
Tell me there’s no one else.
Zach reached for his phone and texted him.
only you.
Winter isn’t really winter in LA, but that crisp smell of chiller air signaled that it was right around the corner. It was already dark by the time Zach finished filming and arrived at Chris’ apartment, right above the bookstore on the third floor. The door to the stairs that led up to the studio was unlocked. Zach figured Chris had left it that way for him and headed up the two flights of stairs. He stopped when he saw that the door to Chris’ apartment was half-open. Carefully, he peered in, hoping Chris had mistakenly left it open and there was no actual danger awaiting him inside.
He watched as Chris and another man were signing furiously with each other near the kitchen. Their hands flew through the air, too quick for Zach to understand what they meant. Zach stood and watched the silent argument until Chris finally threw his arms out to his sides in defeat. It was then that Chris noticed Zach standing half-hidden behind the door. The other man followed the direction of Chris’ gaze and locked eyes with Zach for a brief moment before turning to Chris and signing something that Zach couldn’t see.
Zach nudged the door open and took a step in and stood uncomfortably by the door with his hands in his pockets. The other man walked by him briskly, a disapproving look passing over the man’s face as he looked Zach up and down before leaving and closing the door behind him.
'Are you okay?' Zach signed.
Chris nodded. Zach dropped his messenger bag on the floor next the couch as he slowly walked over to Chris. He leaned on the kitchen counter and waited. Chris sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face.
'My friend. Luke.'
Zach tentatively reached for Chris and was relieved when Chris stepped into his embrace without hesitation. After a moment, Zach pulled back and looked directly into Chris’ eyes and cupped his face. He kissed down the bridge of Chris’ nose and nipped at his bottom lip. Zach rested their foreheads together and closed his eyes. He felt a hand travel up his arm and wrap around his bicep as he breathed in the mixed scent of Chris, his aftershave, and hints of the fabric softener he used.
They stood together for a few minutes before Zach pulled back again. He found a shopping receipt on the countertop and twisted around to reach for a pen. He scribbled, tell me what happened?
Chris’ hand lingered at Zach’s waist and then dropped to his side. He walked over to the couch, sitting heavily. Zach followed and sat sideways and cross-legged, facing Chris.
Chris’ pink tongue darted out and swiped at the corner of his mouth before he began speaking softly, his hands calmly signing along.
“We’ve been friends since elementary school. He heard that I was seeing you and came over to... he just doesn’t want me to get hurt or be disappointed.”
“Hurt or disappointed?” Zach asked. “By me? I don’t understand,” he shook his head.
Chris hesitated. “When this ends. When you decide to... leave or break up or whatever,” he rushed through the last part.
Zach shook his head again, his face contorting in confusion and annoyance. “What? He doesn’t know me,” he sputtered. “Wait, this-- this isn’t all him. You think this too.”
He watched as Chris’ tongue darted out.
“Is there-- we’re not breaking up, are we?”
Chris shook his head.
Zach paused. “Is it cause I’m an actor? You think I’m pretending? That I’m in this for a quick fuck?”
Chris shook his head again. A guilty look crossed his face. “In the past, some people have... he just doesn’t want to see me make the same mistakes again,” he averted his eyes. “He’s made them, too, so he gets it.”
Zach watched Chris carefully. He reached out to get Chris look at him by touching his wrist. “You mean, seeing someone who can hear.” He watched as Chris nodded reluctantly.
Zach took both of his hands into his own, pulling Chris toward him. He eased them both back so that he was lying on the couch with Chris half on top and half tucked next to him, their hands clasps together between them. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, feeling their hearts beating underneath each other’s fingertips. He eventually brought Chris hand up to his mouth.
“Trust me,” he begged. Chris was already asleep.
Zach wanted so badly to make a good impression on Luke at dinner. But it was as if Luke purposely signed as quickly as possible to lose Zach in conversations, then questioning Zach’s stuttered signing with exaggerated motions, emphasizing his poor proficiency. And Zach understood: this is what it’s like to be left out of conversations, to not know what was being said around and about you. Dinner finally ended somewhat awkwardly, with Zach feeling as though he’d been more or less slapped in the face with the big take-home message: he wasn’t, and never would be, good enough for Chris.
They got into their first fight later that night. Zach accused Luke of being an asshole for not giving him a chance, and Chris defended Luke, saying that he was just looking out for Chris. Luke had always been protective of Chris since they were younger and didn’t want to see him get hurt again; Zach found himself wishing that Chris would be a little more protective of him.
“Have I done something wrong? Why are you so fixated on the idea that I’m going to leave you? It’s like you want me to do it!” Zach spat out.
“Cause it always ends that way!” Chris yelled back.
They stood staring at each other, Zach with his arms crossed, Chris licking nervously at his lips. Finally, Zach picked up Chris’ notebook and flipped to a clean page. He grabbed a pen from the coffee table, scribbled angrily in the notebook, and thrusted it open at Chris. Without looking at Chris, Zach grabbed his jacket and left.
Come find me when you’re ready to invest in this relationship instead of preparing yourself for it to be over.
Zach spent the rest of the night alternating between staring at the ceiling and staring at his phone on the nightstand. By dawn, he had given up on sleep and decided to go for a run to clear his head. He opened his front door and nearly tripped over Chris, who was huddled on his doorstep clutching a manila folder to his chest. Chris scrambled to his feet to face Zach with sad and tired eyes behind his black framed glasses, the same glasses Zach had timidly asked him leave on as Chris backed him up against the bed one night last week.
Chris looked down at his hands as he handed Zach the stack of papers. He scratched the back of his head, took a few steps backwards and turned to leave. Zach watched the back of his shoulders as he walked away, already missing the way they felt, strong and sturdy, under his lips and fingertips. He bit his lip as Chris glanced back and gave him a small hopeful smile.
Zach went back inside his house and flipped the folder open. Three yellow post-it notes were stuck to the first page.
I’m ready.
And I’m sorry.
I’m also sorry I killed a forest when I printed these out. Handing you a jump stick didn’tseemasprofound.
He chuckled at the thought of Chris realizing that he was running out of room to write at the bottom of the post-it. He carefully peeled them off the sheet of paper and stuck them to the front of the folder. Scanning the first page and quickly flipping through the first few pages, he realized he was holding something Chris had written.
Zach knew that Chris enjoyed writing, almost as much as he enjoyed reading, but remained vague whenever Zach asked him about it. He’d been writing more seriously again recently, having stopped since his Berkeley days to teach literature at the high school he had attended. Two years ago, Katie asked him if he wanted to have co-ownership of the family bookstore where he had spent his childhood hiding among the stacks of books, reading everything within his reach. Chris jumped at the chance to spend more time at the store and began indulging in his writing again.
Knowing that Chris was so protective of his writing, Zach almost felt as though he was intruding. He spent the rest of the morning sitting on his living room floor reading the short stories and poems Chris had printed out for him. Even though he’d never read anything Chris had written before, he could sense Chris’ presence behind every word, in the sarcastic humor, the palpable heartache. After he read everything twice, he laid down on the floor with Noah at his feet and Harold perched on the couch, and thought about how his heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time.
They were in the midst of a warm streak in February. Chris was on Zach’s laptop in his office looking up driving directions and trail maps for a hiking trail a friend recommended when Zach waved at him from the doorway.
'dog cat feed,' he signed and then gave Chris a double thumbs up. Chris returned the double thumbs up.
After Noah and Harold’s food bowls were filled, Zach went to the bathroom, grabbed a bottle of sunscreen, and packed it into his backpack. He walked by the office, expecting Chris to be done printing the directions and maps, but found him staring at something in his hands. Zach came up behind Chris and gently wrapped his arms around him. Chris twisted in Zach’s arms and held up a DVD case.
“What is this?” Chris asked.
Zach looked at it. “It’s an ASL instructional DVD.”
Chris looked at him blankly.
“I bought it so I could watch it in my trailer in between filming and learn a few extra signs..."
Chris stepped back. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.
Zach shrugged and felt the need to cross his arms defensively. “I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t think it was necessary to tell you I bought a DVD.” He held his hands out. “Look, after we had dinner with Luke, I felt like crap. He kept mocking me cause I wasn’t signing things correctly, and then he commented about how quiet I was cause I stopped signing. I know I’ll never be as good at it as you are, but I’m trying,” Zach pleaded.
It took a minute after Zach finished speaking for Chris to ask, “Why are you trying so hard?”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t it make you tired? Don’t you ever think about how difficult this is? All the time and patience it takes to write things back and forth,” he lifted the DVD case, “all the effort this takes. Why do you have endless patience with this? Why would you...” Chris trailed off and shook his head.
Zach’s heart began racing as he stared at Chris and reached a hand out toward him with an upturned palm. “We’ve been through this, Chris.”
“Why?” Chris repeated, tossing the case onto the desk.
“Because I want to be good enough for you.”
Zach sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The words coming out of his mouth were nearly drowned by the echoing pulse rushing through his veins and his head.
“Because I love you and I want you to love me back.”
Chris stared at him hard. Then in a flash he stepped forward and collided with Zach, his mouth hungry and his hands buried in Zach’s hair. Chris broke the kiss just as Zach managed to rest his hands on his waist.
“Say it again,” Chris asked. His hand brushed over Zach’s cheek before his fingers began tracing Zach’s lips.
Chris’ eyes and fingertips were focused on his mouth as Zach breathed, “I love you.”
Zach closed his eyes as Chris buried his face into his neck. Right below his jaw, Zach felt it pressed and repeated into his skin, over and over again: Iloveyou, Iloveyou, Iloveyou.
Chapter 3: I wish a falling star could fall forever