Fic: The One Where They Watch Star Trek
I'm a little bit nervous about posting this, as it's my first foray into Pinto, and comes via a prompt on the trek_rpf_kink meme which I almost entirely failed to correctly fill. Anyway, please be gentle.
Title: [untitled]
Pairing: Pinto (front and centre), Nimoy/Shatner (discussed)
Rating: hard R
Summary: Pinto watch TOS through slash-goggles, with the inevitable result.
Disclaimer: Everything herein is utter nonsense fabricated by my own good self.
"I bet they did the nasty," Chris said lightly, leaning across Zach to pilfer a potato chip. Zach blinked, momentarily startled, and then raised a sceptical eyebrow.
"You'd bet they did what, now?"
"You heard me. They did the nasty," Chris repeated, through a mouthful of chip. He paused to wipe his hand on the thigh of his jeans, and then gesticulated vaguely in the direction of the television. "I mean, look at them."
"Yes, Chris," said Zach, in the indulgent, measured tones with which one might address a three-year old. "It's a television show. You look at it. That's what it's for. I've been looking at them for some time." He reached for another beer. "What's your point?"
Chris sighed exaggeratedly and paused the DVD. Zach, struggling with a stubborn ringpull, looked up in surprise at the sudden silence. Chris waved his hand again. "Look," he commanded.
Zach looked. On the TV screen, Kirk was looking at Spock. Spock, leaning over the Captain's shoulder, was looking back at Kirk. Zach shrugged. "So?"
"The look of love, my friend," Chris announced, and resumed play. "The look of love."
The eyebrow went up again. "Well, everyone knows Kirk and Spock are in love. It doesn't mean - " He stopped. "Wait a minute, here. When you say 'they' did the hypothetical nasty, you're talking about - "
"Leonard and the Shat-man," Chris finished for him, nodding. He gave the screen an appreciative glance. "Hell, it'd be weird if they didn't. Nobody told me the Shat was so hot. And he's the fucking Captain, Zach. Everybody wants the Captain."
"And again, the line between fiction and reality proves itself irrevocably blurred in your mind," Zach said lightly. "Anyway, you only think everybody wants the Captain because you are the Captain and you're also a prize narcissist."
"What were we saying about reality versus fiction?" Chris shot back, grinning. He turned his attention back to the screen. Zach watched him for a moment, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, Zach was surprised to find he was a little disappointed. He prodded Chris in the hip with the edge of the remote control.
"Hey," he said. It was an unhelpfully flat sort of 'hey', and Chris gave him a look that said he wasn't sure what Zach had meant by it. Zach sighed. "What exactly is it you think they were doing?"
Chris turned fully to look at him, eyes narrowing. Zach was attempting to look innocent, but his voice had fallen in pitch just a little over the question, and Chris smiled slowly. He thought he knew where this was going. He was pretty sure he liked it. He put his half-can of beer down on the coffee table. "You want my in-depth opinion?"
"If you have an in-depth opinion, I'd be delighted to hear it," Zach replied, trying for lightness, and failing. Chris's smile broadened.
"I bet they were fucking on set," he said, smoothly. "After-hours. You know it. Those tight little uniforms - " Chris reoriented himself so that most of him was in Zach's lap, one long hand resting easily on Zach's thigh. Might as well get comfortable.
Zach's hand moved easily to Chris's chest and rested there, familiar and warm. "What about the uniforms?" Husky. Chris liked it.
"I bet it took the Captain like one point eight seconds to get that thing off over Leonard's head. And the little black tee he had underneath. And another two point three seconds to get him up against a wall with his arms above his head." Chris paused, and snorted. "If he could find a wall that wouldn't collapse on contact, but whatever. They'd know their way about."
Zach shifted his weight slightly under Chris's. Chris could hear his breathing now, warm in Chris's hair. "Against a wall, you think?"
"Hell, yeah." Chris's hand, the one that wasn't on Zach's leg, tracked a steady path up the inside of his own thigh, coming to rest loose-fingered between his legs. He tipped his head back. "Against a wall. Maybe they play-fought first or something, so they were all panting and stuff. And then I bet they kissed like fucking men, Zach. All hard and powerhungry. You know how straight guys get when they're playing gay."
"I know how straight guys get," Zach agreed, with a smile in his voice. Chris smiled back; pressed the heel of his hand against the growing bulge in his jeans.
"Mmm," he agreed. "Anyway - yeah, just. Kissing like that. And all the doors are still open but they don't care, right;'cause they're grinding and making those hot little breathy noises."
Zach was making a certain number of those himself, now, Chris noted. And there was definite shifting going on. His words were getting a bit funny as they came out, but the image was sure as hell clear, so he went on.
"God, and I bet they got naked, Zach, right there on the set, 'cause it doesn't matter that nobody's meant to know about you when you're that hot for each other. The costume department probably fucking hated them. And, you know - " He paused, unzipped his jeans and slipped a hand inside. "Who'd you think'd be on top, Zach?" he asked, with a little hissing intake of breath.
"Fuck," Zach said - Chris presumed not in direct answer to his question - and reached down to close his hand over Chris's. His mouth was hot on Chris's neck, tasting him, and his hand moved deft and hard on Chris's cock, and hell, what a way to find out Zach liked dirty stories. Chris let this go on for a long moment before he pushed Zach off and wriggled around so they were facing each other, during which time Zach had somehow managed to get his own pants undone, so that when Chris settled his weight between Zach's legs, they were skin to skin where it counted. Zach pulled Chris down against him by the nape of the neck, and they kissed and kissed and kissed, Chris grinding his body into Zach's and Zach rolling his hips up against him in long, firm motions.
It didn't last long, but it had never been intended to, really; and Zach was panting in Chris's ear and Chris was sucking a bruise into Zach's throat; and when Zach started whimpering, Chris could never last out much longer; and when Chris started coming, it was always the end for Zach. So it ended like that, in a tangled, mostly-clothed mess on the settee, with Zach panting "Fuck!" into Chris's ear in what Chris called his lady-tones, and Chris's fingers clenching and unclenching reflexively on the muscles of Zach's upper arms.
When Chris finally summoned the effort to sit up, the Star Trek theme music was playing. Chris blinked at the TV. "Guess we missed that one, then," he remarked. He didn't sound too unhappy about it.
Zach grinned. "I've seen it before. Kirk takes Spock to bed and McCoy makes fondly bitchy comments to Scotty about it. The end."
"I like that," Chris mused, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I like that one. They should put it in the next movie. Excellent scriptwriting."
Zach grinned at him, and zipped his jeans back up. "Next one?"
"Bring it on," Chris said, and reached for his beer.
Title: [untitled]
Pairing: Pinto (front and centre), Nimoy/Shatner (discussed)
Rating: hard R
Summary: Pinto watch TOS through slash-goggles, with the inevitable result.
Disclaimer: Everything herein is utter nonsense fabricated by my own good self.
"I bet they did the nasty," Chris said lightly, leaning across Zach to pilfer a potato chip. Zach blinked, momentarily startled, and then raised a sceptical eyebrow.
"You'd bet they did what, now?"
"You heard me. They did the nasty," Chris repeated, through a mouthful of chip. He paused to wipe his hand on the thigh of his jeans, and then gesticulated vaguely in the direction of the television. "I mean, look at them."
"Yes, Chris," said Zach, in the indulgent, measured tones with which one might address a three-year old. "It's a television show. You look at it. That's what it's for. I've been looking at them for some time." He reached for another beer. "What's your point?"
Chris sighed exaggeratedly and paused the DVD. Zach, struggling with a stubborn ringpull, looked up in surprise at the sudden silence. Chris waved his hand again. "Look," he commanded.
Zach looked. On the TV screen, Kirk was looking at Spock. Spock, leaning over the Captain's shoulder, was looking back at Kirk. Zach shrugged. "So?"
"The look of love, my friend," Chris announced, and resumed play. "The look of love."
The eyebrow went up again. "Well, everyone knows Kirk and Spock are in love. It doesn't mean - " He stopped. "Wait a minute, here. When you say 'they' did the hypothetical nasty, you're talking about - "
"Leonard and the Shat-man," Chris finished for him, nodding. He gave the screen an appreciative glance. "Hell, it'd be weird if they didn't. Nobody told me the Shat was so hot. And he's the fucking Captain, Zach. Everybody wants the Captain."
"And again, the line between fiction and reality proves itself irrevocably blurred in your mind," Zach said lightly. "Anyway, you only think everybody wants the Captain because you are the Captain and you're also a prize narcissist."
"What were we saying about reality versus fiction?" Chris shot back, grinning. He turned his attention back to the screen. Zach watched him for a moment, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, Zach was surprised to find he was a little disappointed. He prodded Chris in the hip with the edge of the remote control.
"Hey," he said. It was an unhelpfully flat sort of 'hey', and Chris gave him a look that said he wasn't sure what Zach had meant by it. Zach sighed. "What exactly is it you think they were doing?"
Chris turned fully to look at him, eyes narrowing. Zach was attempting to look innocent, but his voice had fallen in pitch just a little over the question, and Chris smiled slowly. He thought he knew where this was going. He was pretty sure he liked it. He put his half-can of beer down on the coffee table. "You want my in-depth opinion?"
"If you have an in-depth opinion, I'd be delighted to hear it," Zach replied, trying for lightness, and failing. Chris's smile broadened.
"I bet they were fucking on set," he said, smoothly. "After-hours. You know it. Those tight little uniforms - " Chris reoriented himself so that most of him was in Zach's lap, one long hand resting easily on Zach's thigh. Might as well get comfortable.
Zach's hand moved easily to Chris's chest and rested there, familiar and warm. "What about the uniforms?" Husky. Chris liked it.
"I bet it took the Captain like one point eight seconds to get that thing off over Leonard's head. And the little black tee he had underneath. And another two point three seconds to get him up against a wall with his arms above his head." Chris paused, and snorted. "If he could find a wall that wouldn't collapse on contact, but whatever. They'd know their way about."
Zach shifted his weight slightly under Chris's. Chris could hear his breathing now, warm in Chris's hair. "Against a wall, you think?"
"Hell, yeah." Chris's hand, the one that wasn't on Zach's leg, tracked a steady path up the inside of his own thigh, coming to rest loose-fingered between his legs. He tipped his head back. "Against a wall. Maybe they play-fought first or something, so they were all panting and stuff. And then I bet they kissed like fucking men, Zach. All hard and powerhungry. You know how straight guys get when they're playing gay."
"I know how straight guys get," Zach agreed, with a smile in his voice. Chris smiled back; pressed the heel of his hand against the growing bulge in his jeans.
"Mmm," he agreed. "Anyway - yeah, just. Kissing like that. And all the doors are still open but they don't care, right;'cause they're grinding and making those hot little breathy noises."
Zach was making a certain number of those himself, now, Chris noted. And there was definite shifting going on. His words were getting a bit funny as they came out, but the image was sure as hell clear, so he went on.
"God, and I bet they got naked, Zach, right there on the set, 'cause it doesn't matter that nobody's meant to know about you when you're that hot for each other. The costume department probably fucking hated them. And, you know - " He paused, unzipped his jeans and slipped a hand inside. "Who'd you think'd be on top, Zach?" he asked, with a little hissing intake of breath.
"Fuck," Zach said - Chris presumed not in direct answer to his question - and reached down to close his hand over Chris's. His mouth was hot on Chris's neck, tasting him, and his hand moved deft and hard on Chris's cock, and hell, what a way to find out Zach liked dirty stories. Chris let this go on for a long moment before he pushed Zach off and wriggled around so they were facing each other, during which time Zach had somehow managed to get his own pants undone, so that when Chris settled his weight between Zach's legs, they were skin to skin where it counted. Zach pulled Chris down against him by the nape of the neck, and they kissed and kissed and kissed, Chris grinding his body into Zach's and Zach rolling his hips up against him in long, firm motions.
It didn't last long, but it had never been intended to, really; and Zach was panting in Chris's ear and Chris was sucking a bruise into Zach's throat; and when Zach started whimpering, Chris could never last out much longer; and when Chris started coming, it was always the end for Zach. So it ended like that, in a tangled, mostly-clothed mess on the settee, with Zach panting "Fuck!" into Chris's ear in what Chris called his lady-tones, and Chris's fingers clenching and unclenching reflexively on the muscles of Zach's upper arms.
When Chris finally summoned the effort to sit up, the Star Trek theme music was playing. Chris blinked at the TV. "Guess we missed that one, then," he remarked. He didn't sound too unhappy about it.
Zach grinned. "I've seen it before. Kirk takes Spock to bed and McCoy makes fondly bitchy comments to Scotty about it. The end."
"I like that," Chris mused, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I like that one. They should put it in the next movie. Excellent scriptwriting."
Zach grinned at him, and zipped his jeans back up. "Next one?"
"Bring it on," Chris said, and reached for his beer.