The bet

[mindor]

 Part 1

“Is it true?” Chris demands, slamming Zach up against the door as soon as it closes behind them, eyes a dangerous mixture of gray and blue, muscles tense like a bowstring.

“Is what true?” Zach growls back, trying and failing to keep his calm among the chaotic swirl of thoughts in his head. This is Chris, who’s pushed him up against hard surfaces with brutal force on a daily basis during their fight training, and now Zach feels as if he was holding himself back the entire time. Long gone is cute, puppy-eyed Chris; there’s conviction and intent in his posture now, promising danger and pain even, if Zach doesn’t cooperate.

“What that whore said.” Chris hisses tightening his grip in Zach’s shirt.

“His name is Jake and he’s a very talented erotic dancer, not a whore.” Zach feels smart for a whole second before his head bangs painfully against the wood of his front door, making him wonder if he should have chosen one padded with leather.

“Stop fucking around, Quinto!” Chris looks more like himself now, as if he’s really looking for an answer, but his gaze never softens.

“Pot, meet kettle.” Zach snorts, lifting his arms to wrap his hands around Chris’ wrists.

“Zach...”

“Fine, yes! I’d fuck the life out of you given the chance, but you made it pretty fucking clear you’re not interested, so quit acting like a possessive little bitch when you have no right to! It was your own damn decision!” Zach shouts at Chris in annoyance, because in case Chris hasn’t already known, it’s not like Zach would ever be able to drill the fact into his stubborn head that he likes Chris.

“Since when was there a decision I had to make? You were having sex with a stripper in public, right in front of me!” Chris shouts back and Zach’s not sure if his problem is the 'public' or the 'in front of him' part.

“So what? Newsflash Christopher, I suck cocks and fuck asses to get off! You wouldn’t be this outraged if it was Karl with some pretty little girl, even though he’s fucking married!” Zach’s surprised by the extent of his own anger; he’s normally not this mean and doesn’t try to be hurtful even when arguing with someone, especially not with Chris.

“Stop trying to freak me out, it won’t happen. And don’t you dare making me sound like some judgmental asshole, when you know I’m not!” Chris twists and with serpentine agility breaks out of Zach’s hold, pinning his wrists against the door, bones grinding under his palms.

“Oh, really? Well, did you know that you holding me down and trying to pierce me with those eyes makes me really, really hot? So now you have exactly ten seconds to let me go or I’ll stop playing nice and just take what I want. Because I’m going to have sex tonight, with or without you.” Chris’ cheeks turn red and Zach silently congratulates himself for a job well done; Project Ruffling Chris’ Feathers: complete success. Now if he could just turn invisible and evaporate…

“I’m not going to give you what you want, Zach.” Chris whispers and it’s a lot scarier than his full on screaming was or ever could be.

“I kind of suspected that...” Zach answers with a defiant tilt of his head, baring his throat, but if this is how surrender feels like, he’s more than happy to indulge Chris.

“You bend over and take it, or there’ll be no fucking tonight for either of us.” Chris says with such confidence, that Zach’s inclined to believe him and even more inclined to do anything Chris asks of him because he’s getting just that desperate.

“What makes you think I’d do that?” Zach’s resistance crumbles slowly and he watches it fall to pieces after this last attempt at keeping his dignity.

“That lovely man with the respectable career told me that I could ask for your left nut on top of everything and you still wouldn’t say no. Planning on playing hard to get now?” Chris moves forward, a tantalizing hint at what his jeans are hiding brushes up against the front of Zach’s leather pants, and there’s really only one answer Zach can think of.

“Fuck no.”

“Good boy.” Chris smirks and Zach shuts himself up quickly, deciding to take it as a payback from Chris for a whole evening spent being compared to a lost puppy. “Bed.”

“Couch.” Zach retorts never being happier about his widely misunderstood interior designing skills for putting a couch - or lounge bed slash ottoman really - next to the entrance door without any obvious purpose.

They stare at each other for long seconds, Chris not wanting to lose the upper hand and Zach trying to wrap his head around the fact that at this point he’s ready to go through with anything Chris wants even if he pretends to fight.

“Fuck it.” Chris whispers in a rush, mouth slamming into Zach’s with enough force to make him worried about broken bones.

Releasing his death grip on Zach’s wrists, Chris fists both hands into Zach’s hair, tilting his head backward, the position so unusually submissive for Zach that he growls in frustration. He feels the corners of Chris’ mouth turn up as his tongue pushes forcefully into Zach’s mouth, rough and demanding while Chris yanks on his hair so hard it hurts. Zach bites back, giving as good as he gets, his freed hands running down Chris’ back to grope his ass, then up to his hips again, squeezing tightly, and if it wasn’t for the fucking two hundred layers he’s wearing, Chris would have Zach’s fingerprints all over his waistline by now.

“Off.” Zach hisses sending buttons flying everywhere as he rips off Chris’ button-down. He’s tempted to leave the cuffs undone and tie Chris up with his own shirt, because he’s sure as hell, it doesn’t even occur to someone who’s been straight for the last thirty years that while strapped dresses are useless for it, quality shirts can keep a man twice Chris’ size restrained. But Zach decides to keep that surprise for next time, knowing there’ll be one, however long it takes to get Chris this worked up again. He does have extraordinary patience when it’s crucial.

Not right now though because the noises Chris makes are getting more and more desperate as he comes down from the rush of the strip club and behaves like the Chris Zach knows again, all wide-eyed politeness and boyish charm.

Over the distance of the two steps it takes to get to the plush, gray couch Zach strips Chris out of the majority of his clothes and manages to lose his own shirt, leaving Chris in briefs and him in a pair of leather pants. The usually useless piece of furniture creaks as Chris lands on it with a thud, sending cushions flying everywhere, looking up at Zach open mouthed and panting hard.

“You didn’t think I’ll let you fuck and manhandle me in one night, did you? Should know me better by now.” Zach grins, because while Chris’ confidence promised to be a lot of fun, this is infinitely better. It may seem vain, but Zach feels strong and powerful under Chris’ fearful gaze and while he doesn’t mind his lovers pushing back, Zach likes to be in charge even more. He straddles Chris’ thighs and smiles even wider when Chris’ hands fly to his hips and still awkwardly as if Chris doesn’t know what to do now.

When they kiss again it’s more like a fight, and Zach can feel Chris slowly retreating as he forces his breath down Chris’ throat, biting down on that tempting lower lip as if he owned it. Zach feels fingernails drag up his naked back, digging in deep, surely leaving angry red welts, and Chris’s back in the game in an instant. He surges off the couch, pushing Zach down and sideways on the plush material, and his hands are working Zach’s pants open even before they stop bouncing.

“I like fucking girls, Zach; I’m not one of them. There’s a slight difference.” Chris snarls as if he was saving all his anger for this statement.

“Well, neither am I and I won’t lie down and take it so you can pretend I’m your regular starlet.” Zach hisses back, because his cock’s the only part of him that isn’t the slightest bit unhappy about this turn of events. If anything he’s hardening even more while his brain’s screaming at his body, that even though he did say it, he’s normally not turned on by being held down.

“Oh trust me, I know.” Chris yanks down his pants and Zach gasps where the leather stuck to his skin and now burns like a sticking plaster torn off. “Even your skinny ass is too angular to pass as anything belonging to a woman, and you’d look ridiculous with boobs.” Chris looks down, completely unfazed by Zach’s cock and Zach wants to kill him. Well, probably fuck him senseless first and kill him after.

“If I’m so repulsive to you why the fuck are we here?” Zach tries to twist away. He’s so fucking hurt and furious, but Chris grabs his dick and it does one hell of a job convincing him to stay still.

“Because you’re Zachary Quinto and you’ll always be beautiful to me. No matter what.” Chris leans down, pressing dry lips against Zach’s in an oddly gentle gesture. “Stop fighting me. This’ll be either the hottest night of our lives, or the most painful one. It’s up to you Zach.” Chris looks so fucking honest and hopeful it breaks Zach’s heart a little, because jealousy sex is one thing, but this means something not only to him, but to Chris too.

“You’re pretty damn perfect yourself, if a bit bossy, and temperamental, and an oblivious asshole most of the time, and...Hmpff.” There’s a hand over his mouth as Zach tries to list Chris’ more prominent character flaws and he licks the palm just because he can.

“Yeah, that’s enough, I get it.” Chris laughs eyes shining with mirth. “So what now? Are we doing this?” Zach sees the question for what it is, out of the situation without any hard feelings, and he’s grateful for it, really, but a dozen FBI agents with tanks and bombers couldn’t drag him away from Chris right now.

“Lube and condoms in the drawer.” Zach points at the small table standing at the closest wall. “And lose the briefs while you’re at it.” He adds as Chris scrambles for the supplies. The underwear knocks a few family pictures over when Chris throws it carelessly behind himself, but Zach doesn’t give a flying fuck any more because Chris’s standing above him in all his naked glory, his thick, hard and - fuck! - simply beautiful cock standing up against his stomach holding a condom and a bottle of lube uneasily.

“I kind of have no idea how to go about this.” Chris confesses in a small voice, holding out the condom in one hand and the bottle of lube in the other.

“As a starter you could come down here.” Zach puts on his most reassuring smile and holds out a hand for Chris who takes it and sits down next to Zach’s lying form. “Now you have to prep me.”

“I know that, Zach, I’m not an idiot.” Chris huffs, but he’s more amused than angry as he pours lube on his fingers. “Can you…spread your legs a little?” He waves around with his arms like a windmill and Zach can’t help laughing.

“Do you say that to everyone you fuck, or am I just special?” Zach asks, still between fits of laughter, because Chris just turned from Prince Charming to Clumsy Smurf within five seconds. It’s pretty damn impressive.

“Shut up!” Chris blushes in embarrassment, and before Zach can completely calm down he feels a cold fingertip, slick with lube pressing against his entrance. He hisses as Chris pushes in to the second knuckle, utterly fascinated by the sight of his finger disappearing into Zach. It feels good, but it’s been so long that Zach needs a few moments until he can draw a breath to get out a low stop. Chris stills immediately, the trembling in his hand showing that he’s on the verge of panic while Zach concentrates on relaxing his tense muscles.

“Move it, slowly.” Zach whispers and opens his eyes he doesn’t remember shutting. And it’s much better now, finger sliding easily deeper, warming the muscles, stretching them slowly. “That’s it, now push down with it.” Zach instructs, circling his hips to find the best angle. “Down meant up, damn it Chris, I’m going to castrate you if you don’t find my prostate within the next five seconds.”

“Alright, you said down, I was just following instructions!” Chris almost whines, but at least now he’s searching in the right direction.

“For the first fucking time in your life…oh shit!” Zach cries out, hips rising from the couch, fucking down against Chris’ finger when he hits that tiny bundle of nerves.

Chris’ smirk turns evil as he starts riding that one spot with relentless strokes, causing waves of pleasure to explode through every fiber of Zach's body. He hasn’t felt this in ages, but Zach doesn’t remember bottoming ever being this good. Jesus, Chris’s lighting up his nerves with every thrust of his finger, and if he never feels anything again he’s still dying a happy man.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris breathes, sounding smug, even delighted with himself while all Zach can do is fist his hands in the single cushion that hasn’t fallen from the couch. The pressure is sweet, not burning anymore, and Zach clenches around the finger, wanting more. It takes him some time until he realizes that Chris won’t proceed without prompting, so he tries to collect all three words remaining in his vocabulary.

“Give me more!” He grinds out and luckily Chris doesn’t need specifics this time. Soon his middle finger joins the first one, the delicious sting is back and Zach groans out his appreciation. He shudders when Chris starts scissoring his fingers, bites his lips to keep himself from crying out, because if he starts now, Zach doesn’t think he’d ever stop. Twisting again, Zach tries to get the angle right, because he’s about to combust, while Chris seems content playing him slow and easy like a fucking harp.

“Stop squirming.” Chris frowns in concentration and tries to keep his hand in the best possible position.

“I’ll make sure you remember that when you’re the one in agony from sheer sexual frustration!” Zach shouts the last part into the bright yellow cushion he’s sure he has torn in several places by now.

“You suck at bottoming.” Chris states matter-of-factly, but before Zach could think of an answer, Chris’ ring finger’s tucked next to the first two, seeking entrance. The sudden intrusion makes Zach jump off the couch like a shot, almost sending both of them flying toward the coffee table and effectively halting every thought in his head. The stretch is almost unbearable, but Zach couldn’t say whether it’s from pain or pleasure if his life depended on it, the only thing he can be sure of is that he wants Chris inside him, and the world could end after that for all he cares.

“In me Pine, thirty seconds.” Zach yanks away the cushion from his mouth and glares at Chris’ still smirking face.

“You and your deadlines…” Chris sighs mockingly, but when he moves, he seems to be in as much of a hurry as Zach feels. He puts on the condom with an ease Zach’s expected of him, lubes himself up with a swipe of his hand and if Zach counted, he’s sure Chris would have made the deadline.

“I feel like I should make a joke about frontiers here,” Chris chuckles nervously, stalling a bit, and even though he’s gritting his teeth, Zach understands him.

It takes a few moments, but after he gets over his initial hesitation, Chris’ slick cock head’s opening Zach, that beautiful body coiled tight above him as Chris tries to keep the jerky movements of his hips to a minimum. Zach pushes back, but it’s sill a tight fit, Chris’ cock so much wider than his fingers, but at the same time it feels amazing. He’s been waiting for Chris for so long, and now he’s there hot as ever with his smart wit that Zach loves so much about him, and it’s the whole package that makes sex with Chris the most fun Zach’s had in the last decade. He’s enjoying it not only because of his impending orgasm, but because of the activity itself, Chris’ attentiveness is exhilarating after a string of trophy hunters who were after either Spock or Sylar and didn’t give a fuck about Zach.

“Move, Jesus!” Zach gasps and Chris’s more than happy to oblige, pulling out slowly and sinking back in just as carefully, trying to find a rhythm suitable for both of them. It’s wonderful and excruciating at the same time because it’s everything Zach’s ever wanted but not nearly enough. Chris’ movements are delicate and sloppy, probably fantastic for a girl, but only teasing for a guy.

“Damn it, Chris!” Zach growls and shoves him away, reversing their positions. “This is how you fuck a guy.” He presses a hard kiss on Chris’ mouth, to take the edge off his words, but doesn’t take it any further. Instead, Zach focuses on the punishing rhythm he sets for the both of them, and Chris meets his every thrust with vigor. Zach presses his forehead against Chris’ and screws his hips down on Chris’ cock making loud slapping sounds as they pant harshly into each other’s mouth.

Zach reaches down only to get his hand batted away by Chris who grabs his achingly hard cock and starts jerking him with unsteady strokes. But his hips don’t falter and it’s enough to send Zach spiraling toward completion. His muscles tighten and Chris groans when Zach slides down one last time and circles his hips to rub the cock inside him against his prostate.

“Fuck.” Zach cries out, white heat blossoming at the base of his spine as Chris’ thumb flickers over the bundle of nerves on the underside of his dick. In a rare moment of clarity, when his eyes can focus, Zach finds Chris staring back at him in wonder, saying please in a weak, throaty voice and Zach comes so hard he almost blacks out, feeling his ass clench around Chris’ cock hard like a vice. Ignoring the stickiness Zach falls forward in Chris’ embrace and feels the short jerky thrusts below him as Chris chases his own orgasm.

Zach lightly nips along the side of Chris’ neck, because that’s the skin closest to him and he couldn’t move any more if the house was on fire, waiting for Chris to find his release which isn’t far away either. Chris mutters something Zach can’t make out and fills the condom after a powerful thrust.

“Fuck!” Chris throws his head against the backrest of the couch and Zach can feel his rapid heartbeat and erratic breathing where his cheek rests on Chris’ chest. And thank fuck for yoga, because this position wouldn’t be comfortable for people a lot shorter than him, but as long as Chris doesn’t want to move Zach’s content staying where he is even if his whole body falls asleep as a result.

“I hope that was a good fuck.” Zach mumbles, not sure and not really caring if Chris can hear him.

“Definitely. Hottest night of my life, Jesus.” Chris brings a hand down to press against the scratches and bruises Zach managed to leave after all, and chuckles softly. “And probably the most painful one as well.”

“I’m sorry.” Zach feels his bubble of happiness pop as he gets roughly reminded that what he and Chris want are completely different things.

“Hey, whatever you’re thinking now, don’t be sorry, we’ll figure this out.” Chris promises, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Zach’s head, and Zach tries to believe him if only to stay a bit longer the way they are. But Chris moves, pulling out and disposing of the condom, grabbing the remnants of his button-down shirt. Zach sighs and gets ready himself, collecting the scattered cushions and putting them back to their places. When he enters his bedroom, he finds Chris lying naked on his bed with his book in his hands as if he belonged here and Zach looks at him puzzled.

“What are you doing?” He asks, hope blossoming in his chest.

“Reading Freedom and waiting for you to fuck me, like the rest of the world.”