Technically Romantic
Title: Technically Romantic
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When one of you works in New York and the other has a gig in Vancouver, finding the chance and means to spend some quality time together can be difficult and frustrating. Especially when your boyfriend sends you a certain magazine through the post.
Disclaimer: We do not own the actors, unfortunately. Not even as pets.
Word Count: 6462
Authors: petbubble and leandralocke
Authors' notes: Prompted by the idea of Chris sending Zach a preview copy of Details magazine... just because.
Zach tucked the phone handset between his ear and shoulder as he waited for the call to be connected, leaving his hands free to continue opening the mail he’d grabbed on his way into the apartment tonight. Digging his thumb underneath another heavily glued flap he cursed quietly under his breath, reminding himself yet again that he really should get one of those electronic envelope openers - or at the very least an old fashioned one. An expensive, solid wood handled sharp knife that would take the brunt of all this paper abuse instead of his thumb.
The call had connected and he listened to the dull rhythm of the dialling tone at the other end of the line, a sound he’d become almost as familiar with as his own ring tone. Or the sound of skype connecting. Or that instant messenger goofery that he’d allowed to be installed on his phone. Long-distance relationships of any kind - familial or otherwise - sucked. Sighing as he waited for the person at the other end of the line to move their damn fat ass and pick up, Zach pushed his thumb further under the sealed flap and impatiently tore at it to open the envelope. Tore at it until the thin paper sliced through the edge of his thumb.
“Fucking damnit!” he swore loudly just as the call was answered. Typical…
He heard the familiar soft and warm chuckle on the other end of the line and could almost imagine the slightly crooked grin that normally was accompanying said sound. “Is that you getting straight to the point because you missed me like hell or did you just do something incredibly clumsy to hurt yourself again?”
Narrowing his eyes, Zach made a face as he sucked on his still stinging thumb.
“Shut up, I’m not clumsy,” he grumbled down the phone, purposefully ignoring the first part of the question simply because of that ‘clumsy’ dig, eyes narrowing further as he heard the stifled chuckle in reply. “Dumbass mail is just trying to decapitate me.”
“Ohh, mail,” Chris said, his voice sounding strangely (and most likely faked) surprised and enthusiastic. “So, anything interesting in there?”
Zach looked at the pile of paper and card on his lap and the couch seat next to him as he shifted the position of the handset against his ear. Most of what he’d already opened had been the usual - unsolicited mail from companies trying to sell him new credit cards, pizza and Thai delivery menus, subscription updates, one bank statement - and a few ‘unknowns’; those envelopes and packets that didn’t have company logos on the covers and one…
“Is this your writing?” he asked as he pulled a foolscap-sized manila packet from the bottom of the pile and held it up in front of his face. It was in one of those packets sold specifically to keep things flat and protected and had Vancouver postage on it as well as his name and address in a familiar scrawled hand.
“Chris, you didn’t need to send me your autograph, dude. You should know by now that I can forge it practically perfectly,” he joked, a small smile creeping over his lips as he shook the package trying to determine what it might contain.
Another of those soft, slightly high-pitched chuckles resounded through the phone, ending in a slight snort. “No way you can, with that girly handwriting of yours. But why don’t you stop staring at it like it’s a Christmas gift and finally open the damn envelope?” Chris just knew him all too well.
“It had better be something interesting,” Zach heard himself grumble down the phone as he moved the phone back between his head and shoulder. The tone of his voice was deceptive, though, because he was actually curious as hell. Chris usually emailed him stuff through or even saved it for those rare times recently that they actually managed to be in each other's physical company. Sending something through the mail was… new and hence intriguing.
He eventually managed to open the packet - luckily this envelope had had one of those “pull here” tags on that Zach knew his still stinging thumb was eternally grateful for. Tipping it upside down, he slid his fingers inside and fumbled for the contents.
“So are you going to tell me what was so important that you had to smuggle it through customs by mail? Dude… it’s not some weird Canadian porn is it? You know with bacon and snow and-“
Zach stopped his rambling and stared at the image that was dangling upside down from his fingers. His head was already tilted to the side to hold the phone, but he moved it a little more whilst simultaneously rotating the magazine. Because that’s what he’d pulled from the envelope. A full size, fairly weighty, glossy papered, brightly colored…
“Fuuuuuck,” he breathed as he just stared, wide-eyed at the cover.
“Yeah, I know, badly photo-shopped cover - almost bad enough to go on photoshop disasters dot com,” Chris said, suddenly sounding slightly nervous, no trace of false modesty in his tone. “I dunno why they had to retouch it so severely. But the ones inside are better… I think. Or… what do you think? Was that a ‘fuck how awesome’ or ‘fuck how fugly’ fuck?”
Zach’s ear heard the voice, noted the nervous, almost boyish tone and words, but his brain was just exploding, and all he could do for a few more seconds was stare at the photo on the cover. Slowly he started to come back to his senses and had to clear his suddenly dry throat before he could even attempt to speak.
“Chris… I… Not ugly,” was all that he managed to say at first as he rotated the magazine cover so that it was the right way up and looked properly this time. Now his eyes registered the ultra-smoothness of his boyfriend’s features that some well-meaning yet misguided graphic designer had deemed appropriate for the American magazine market. Yeah, that wasn’t such a great look, but the hair, the sleeveless body-hugging top, the arms - Jesus, the arms! - and the-
“Pants,” Zach heard a voice croak before he realized it was his and burst out laughing in embarrassment. “Oh god! Chris… babe, I’m sorry. I just… Damn this is a good photo. A good photo.” Then he remembered what the younger man had said just moments before.
“Wait. There are more? Inside? Will I survive?”
“Well,” came the slightly prolonged reply, a tone now almost sounding smug compared to the previous nervous babbling, and Zach could practically see the grin Chris would be wearing right now. “Probably not if you’re into muscle cars,” he said, chuckling again. Then he cleared his throat. “So… you like the… pants?”
Zach didn’t even bother to hide the grin on his own face as his eyes roamed over the magazine cover for about the twelfth time since he’d opened the packet. “The pants are definitely…,” he couldn’t help the throaty chuckle that escaped from his lips. “They definitely stand out, Pine. How many pairs of socks did you shove down there?”
“Shut up!!” Chris half huffed, half laughed until all that was left was that bubbly, high-pitched but soft chuckle that was so characteristic of him. “If there’s one thing that’s not photo-shopped it’s the bulge in my pants. So… um… looked at the others yet?”
“Not yet; for some reason I’ve yet to fathom I’ve been staring at the fucking ugly dude on the cover. If they’d only moved him over to one side you could have seen a helluva lot more of that great looking car.” Zach giggled over the protests that came from the other end of the line as he flicked through the magazine pages wondering if he’d missed the rest of the photos before his eye was caught.
“Hang on, I think I’ve found your article,” he mumbled distractedly as he set the magazine on his lap and, after licking the tip of his middle finger, moved back a few pages. There, over several pages, were more photographs. A lot more. Chris reclining in what he assumed was the same car as the one on the cover. Chris standing, thumbs in pockets, almost channeling the spirit of James Dean as he stared arrogantly into the camera. Chris...
Jesus.
Zach swallowed hard as he stared at a photo of Chris looking fucking hot as hell sitting open legged on a leather couch - or was it a displaced back seat of a car? He couldn't tell, and really didn't give that much of a fuck about what his boyfriend might or might not be sitting on as he stared at the picture. He recognized the very familiar pose all too well - the relaxed, almost effortless body language saying If you want it, you can have it; just come here... that was complemented by Chris' tilted head, the look in his eyes that verged on a plea. And it wasn't just his memory that was stimulated, Zach acknowledged with a slowly raised eyebrow as he felt a familiar stirring in his stomach.
“Did you… Have you seen these already? Did you know how fucking hot you looked and you didn’t tell me? You bastard…”
"Well, duh! I've put the magazine in an envelope for you, didn't I? Got a few issues pre-release. So of course I've seen them," Chris replied, chuckling. "And okay then. I thought you also loved me for my modesty but apparently not. So... next time I'll brag what a goddamn sexy motherfucker I am." The chuckle turned into a slightly deeper, throaty laugh, almost a groan before Chris clicked his tongue. "Though I still think they're a bit... well... high gloss, perfectly polished, fake looking. But the main thing's that you like 'em."
“Of course they're high gloss and professional. They're in a magazine, you idiot,” Zach replied as he tried to sound... well, normal. Not like the highly aroused perverted fanboy he currently felt like. One who only wanted to end the call and stick a sweaty palmed hand into his pants; to jerk off over the-
Damnit Zach - this is your boyfriend for fuck's sake! Could you be more of a creeper?
Clearing his throat he shuffled on the couch, ignoring the soft thud of paper hitting the floor by his feet - the mail that had previously been on his lap now pooling around his bare feet.
Fuck, he missed Chris. Mostly for him, the annoying, over-excited, enthusiastic, funny, loveable, loving idiot, but at times like this - when he was reminded of Chris' physicality - he missed his body, his breath and the simple feel and smell of him. Long distance relationships really did suck. “And sure I like them, they make you look a very... pretty motherfucker,” he joked, trying to keep any hint of longing out of his tone.
"Well... good then," Chris replied, and there wasn't any trace of that mock smugness left in his tone now. More something like pride and feeling flattered.
There was a moment of silence between them, the kind of silence that often occurred when you didn't know how to keep a conversation going, although Zach and Chris hardly ever had the problem that they didn't know what to talk about anymore. But maybe - Zach liked to think it was most likely - Chris had had the same thought in mind as he, was missing his boyfriend as much as Zach did, wishing beaming wasn't only existent in the fictional Sci-Fi universe they had only been a part of as actors. "So... um... how's it going in the Big Apple?" Chris asked then, breaking the silence. "And with the play. At least you only had one show tonight so I bet you're not as exhausted as Saturday."
As he listened to Chris talk Zach had turned his position almost ninety degrees to lean back against the couch arm and lifted his legs up onto the seat cushions in front of him. Kicking the mail he'd opened earlier onto the floor to join the other envelopes he propped the open magazine on his slightly raised knees, flicking through the pages of Chris' article; not really reading the words, but always returning to that one photograph. “Yeah, it's good - I'm good. Think I may be getting kinda used to it all a bit more now - not wanting to fall straight into bed anymore,” he replied as he flicked lazily through the rest of the magazine. He felt a sharp pang of guilt over the short-lived phone call they'd had at the weekend, another casualty of the play.
“Sorry about Saturday, man - I feel shit that I wasn't really up for much conversation. I'll make it up to you - promise. So, how's Vancouver? Those foreigners treating my man right?”
"Hey, no problem. I know how exhausting theater can be, and dude," he let out a short, breathy laugh, "you have seven hours of play time on some days. So I get it. But... making it up to me sounds good anyway. How about giving me a back rub? God, wish you really could do that because I'm so fucking tense you can't even imagine it. Well, okay, maybe you can. But yeah, I've had some intense scenes the past couple of days. All that running around and jumping in and out of cars. But aside from that all's fine. Having a pretty damn good time here," he said and then, when he continued, Zach could almost hear the pout he must be wearing now. "Except for when I miss you, of course."
“Miss you too,” he whispered more than said as he felt his heart grow a little heavier. He sighed and ruefully smiled to himself, partly glad that Chris wasn't there to see the pathetically maudlin expression that he knew he was wearing. Of course, if Chris was there then neither of them would be missing the other and feeling this way.
He shook his head and rolled his eyes. There was no way he was going to let himself drift into a solo pity party and spoil his 'Chris time'. With both of them having such busy schedules they had to take what they could - when they could. “Back rub? I... dunno. Don't they have a chiropractor on set?” he teased, trying and failing to keep the grin from his voice.
"Yeah they do, but I prefer you as my masseur," Chris replied, chuckling softly.
“I know, I know. Don't deny you only want me for my fingers, Besides it sounds like you've been having a blast anyway - I saw some of the set pictures. Not sure I'm fully liking the tailored look on you though. I like you looking rough and mean,” he chuckled as his hands found their way back to the magazine pages with Chris' photographs.
"Hey! A minute ago you liked me retouched into perfection like a Ken doll, and this look you don't like? But it's... like business Ken," he laughed, almost even giggled with that unique pleasant and totally not ridiculous sounding laugh of his. "Oh god, I think I need some sleep too. Listen to the bullshit I'm letting out of my big mouth here."
“Business Ken? Sounds like some kind of gigolo toy - where can I get one? Can I dress it up in a sleeveless tee and chaps with a chunky zipper?” Zach giggled in reply, unable to help himself. “And I'm surprised you're letting anything out of that big mouth of yours,” he continued as his grin widened. “You're normally so good at swallowing...”
Chris laughed wholeheartedly, a trace of amused disbelief in the sound this time, and Zach could very well imagine that his boyfriend was shaking his head in the moment. "You're unbelievable, you know that? And very nice of you to hint at blow jobs now when you know neither of us can give or receive any. Thank you very much."
“Who was it who sent his boyfriend sex-photos through the mail?” Zach retorted though he was still chuckling at Chris' reaction. “And you're welcome, honey.”
"Sex-pho... They're not sex-photos!" Chris replied, flattered, surprised, amused - all that was audible in his tone. "They're just photos. I'm not even shirtless or anything. But... are you saying they... turned you on?"
Zach suddenly flipped the magazine shut, now more than ever intensely aware of the effect the photos - that photo had been having on him. He felt a slow flush crawl over his cheeks even though there was no-one else in the apartment, no-one to catch him out. “No...” he replied slowly, trying unsuccessfully to keep the lie out of his voice.
"Oh man," Chris laughed, obviously not believing his boyfriend. "I kinda don't know if I find that very cute or just weeeeird," he said teasingly and let out a few breathy chuckles.
“Shut up,” Zach growled down the phone line. Why did he feel like a teenager who had just been caught looking at porn? Chris was right - it wasn't as though the pictures were blatantly erotic, but there was just... something in them. Something about the way he looked at the camera, the small almost-smile on his face in the black and white photo, the breathy gasp captured in the red colored one. He shifted position again as he felt a knot of something twitch in his stomach. “Just... shut up.”
And indeed, for the next five, ten, fifteen seconds there was no sound to be heard from the other end of the line, just an occasional soft breath.
Groaning, half in annoyance and half in - whatever else, Zach pulled a face at the handset. “Pine, you can be such a dick sometimes.”
"What?" he asked in mock outrage. "You told me to shut up. Besides... I was imagining what you'd be doing once we hang up, with that magazine in one hand and the other... well."
“You were?” Zach practically squeaked in response down the phone. How did Chris always seem to know what he was doing or thinking about doing. “I mean... I wasn’t… I wouldn't be doing... Fuck it, Pine - do you have cameras in here or something?”
"No, but I can read your thoughts," he said, lowering his voice in a mock mysterious drawl. "And you’re thinking... that you want to shove your hand down my pants and make out with me on the hood of that car. Am I right?"
Zach laughed and noticed absently that it was a part groaning and mostly breathy noise. His heart was beating faster in his chest and as he moved his legs on the couch he felt the fabric of his jeans rub against his groin, the sensation making him inhale in a quiet yet rushed gasp.
“No...” he started, licking his lips as he tried to slow his breathing down by exhaling through his nose. “I want to shove my hand down your pants and then fuck you on that leather seat. If you want to make out though, we can always just leave it at that,” he teased.
"Mmmmh, that's even better," Chris replied, and his voice had become a lot deeper and softer, the sound of his breathing more prominent over the phone now. "Are you thinking about this now? I mean... not just thinking about it but... imagining it?"
“You mean am I imagining pushing you up hard against the hood of that car? Imagining running my hands up your bare arms as I grind against you? Or imagining myself straddling you on that seat and tearing open what's left of those shirt fasteners? Heh. I don't think so,” he lied, the grin broadening on his face. “Are you?” He nipped his bottom lip between his teeth and made a fist with his spare hand, determined not to give in to the desire he felt. Because although he hadn't been imagining those things until Chris had asked, he was now. And by God, it was turning him on.
"Oh God," Chris let out as a soft sigh, now all the mischievous teasing absent from his voice, and it appeared that Zach had turned the game around. "Okay. You're fully aware of what's just happening to me, right?" Another low, deep, breath. And another.
“If by that query you mean do I know how hard you are, then yeah I think I'm fully aware of what's happening. Do you like that your pictures make me hard, Chris? Make me want you?” Zach stretched his legs out, lifting his ass slightly off the cushion and he groaned softly as the fabric pulled over his dick, rubbing against it as he moved.
"Mhm... yeah." The reply came with much more delay than earlier, his voice now getting almost hoarse, breathing deeper and faster. "Do you... know what I'm doing right now?"
He had a suspicion, actually a fairly concrete idea that he knew what was happening at the other end of the line, but he wanted to hear it. Wanted to hear the words from Chris' mouth. “Tell me,” he half instructed, half begged, the lust he was feeling clear in his voice. “Tell me what you're doing Chris... Tell me.”
"Ughh," he groaned and inhaled deeply. "I've... opened my pants and am rubbing my dick. God, I'm so fucking hard right now. Wish it was your hand.... Or your mouth."
Zach's breath was released in a shudder as his fist clenched tighter before relaxing fully against his zipper. He unfastened his own pants and slipped a hand inside, tipping his head back and sighing as he felt how hard he was already. “You're... you... Fuck, Chris, I wish it was my mouth too. It's been... shit... too long since I tasted you.”
The next sound that Zach could hear over the phone was a low whimper, followed by deep breaths through the nose, and Zach was almost sure Chris was biting his lip right now. "I... wish I could touch you, too. I... I know it's not real but... makes me jealous to think of you making out with those guys on stage. Wish it was me instead. God, I want you so bad right now, Zach. Want you to fuck me."
Although the words that Chris was saying tore a little at Zach's heart, at his soul because he, too, missed Chris like he'd never missed anyone before; the raw emotion behind them, the basic fact that his boyfriend needed, wanted him... was jealous of another actor made his heart swell and his cock stiffen like no sweet words of romance would ever do.
“Mmhm... I want to be there now - on top of you. I want my hands to be pulling your pants down, freeing that hard dick of yours... shit... I want to feel your dick in my hand, baby. I don't want to just touch mine, I want yours,” Zach moaned and pretty much whined the last few words as he pushed his own pants down over his hips. Fuck it, next time he planned to call Chris he would remember not to wear such stupidly tight jeans. The couch felt cool against his bare ass as he slid his hand over his stomach and down lower through the coarse hair, at first ignoring the hardness he could feel to cup his balls.
"Ugh, God!" Chris exclaimed in no more than a loud whisper, voice rough with lust now. "And I... I want to touch you, get down on my knees and suck your dick until you come into my mouth. Mmmh, God... can we..." His words were starting to get less coherent, almost bubbling out of him, only interrupted by more low, deep breaths. "Fuck, I wish you could feel how hard I am right now. Knowing that you're listening while I'm jacking off is... God that's so hot. Shit, I'm close already."
Pressing the handset closer to his ear, Zach moaned as he strained to hear more of those delicious noises coming from Chris. Just the sound of his labored breathing, tempered by the occasional higher pitched whimper was enough to create that familiar tightness in his belly and chest. He knew the younger man was closer to release than he was, even with his hand now wrapped firmly around his own cock; gripping and twisting as he tried to hold the phone to his ear.
“Oh shit baby... I can just see your mouth around my dick. Your lips... that tongue... way better than my hand. Chris... oh fuck...,” he said hoarsely, the words starting to staccato now as his breathing became more ragged; short rushed phrases rather than perfect sentences. But for once, for this purpose Zach couldn't give a shit about long words and perfectly formed replies. He groaned louder as he heard a whimper from the other end of the line. “Oh yesss, that's it Chris. Fuck you are so sexy baby. Imagine me... unngh... me rubbing my cock at your asshole. Waiting for you to... mmmh... say yes.”
“Ugh yes,” Chris groaned out, sucking in the air in a long, low hissing sound that turned into a shuddered whimper. “I want you to fuck me, I… shit… oh God, I’m…” Zach heard him swallow and exhale through his nostrils after his voice had broken with lust. And it was clear as day that Chris was holding himself back, trying to keep up some composure. “How close are you? Don’t want to…”
As he lay there, back pressed against the couch arm, ass rubbing half against the roughness of the couch fabric and half against the waistband of his pushed down jeans, Zach squeezed his eyes shut and listened to both his own and Chris’ heavy breathing. Even with the slight echo on the line he could almost feel Chris there in the room with him breathing in his ear, could imagine that it was the other man’s hand gripping and sliding along his cock not his own, teasing and pumping, harder and harder…
“Close…” he hissed the word out as he tried to hold enough of his concentration steady to continue speaking - at least for a little while longer. A small part of his mind knew that once he heard Chris lose that last inch of control, once his gloriously sexy hot as fuck boyfriend lapsed completely into moans and gasps rather than words that he himself was lost too.
“Do it. Come… come… for me. Please?”
There were no words coming from Chris now, just those sounds that Zach had come to know so well. He could almost see the expression on his boyfriend’s face, brought to life in his mind through both memories and those delicious noises. Chris’ mouth would be open, gasping for air with every hard and uneven pumping of his hand. His forehead would wrinkle, eyes shut firmly, and his head pressed backwards against the cushions while his lower body arched up, momentarily frozen in motion as the tension in his body caused his muscles to spasm. And then, everything would fall from him with that last deep and long and relishing groan of delicious release, only leaving him to breathe heavily for a while.
And those mental images, along with the movement of his own hand were enough to send Zach in the exact same direction. He felt a pressure start to build in his lower back, his heart racing faster as he lost sense of almost everything. It was as though there were a thousand - a hundred thousand - voices filling his head with wordless whispers, an explosion of white noise that focused into one thing - Chris’ voice. That was all that was holding Zach in reality - he was no longer on his couch, no longer in his apartment. He was in a bubble of sensation, just him, his body and the voice at the other end of the phone that he could no longer even feel pressed against the side of his face urging him on until finally.. blissfully… he heard himself cry out, felt himself tense as his heart pounded loudly and then there was the familiar warm wetness between his fingers as his hand slowed its rhythm.
It took a moment until he recognized the soft sound on the other end of the line, that breathy chuckle again, though right now still mixed with soft sighs of contentment. “I think we’re getting the hang of this,” Chris said and the next moment Zach could have sworn he was stifling a yawn. “Though it’s… Ah well.” Not as good as the real deal? Had he wanted to say that but then decided against it? “You still alive over there?” Another faint chuckle.
“Alive? Yeah, I think so…” he murmured quietly, content from the physical release, but also not at the same time. Slowly stretching behind his head, Zach grabbed a handful of tissue from the box on the table, wiping the worst of the stickiness off his fingers. He shuffled further down on the couch as he reached underneath to push and kick his jeans off fully. “Another fine performance from you, Pine,” he joked as he rolled onto his side, wanting nothing more than to be rolling over into Chris’ arms instead of the open edge of an otherwise empty couch. “Y’know this sucks.” He tried to sound lighthearted and mostly succeeded. Mostly.
“Hmmm, actually,” Chris started slowly in a pondering and equally lighthearted tone. “Technically there’s no sucking. Which basically sucks, so yeah, you’re right.” He laughed faintly, which came out as almost a snort, and the next second a loud yawn came through the phone.
“I’m always right, Christopher. And wow, I’m that good I tired you out, huh?” Zach tried to stifle his own yawn which just seemed to make it louder. “Shit, I could just sleep here.”
“Then do it,” Chris laughed. “And I’ve been tired all evening but yeah, even more so now. Don’t think I’ll be up for much longer. I’m gonna move into the bedroom, though.” He heard something shuffling, that old sofa Chris still had creaking as he probably got up from it. “And I’m gonna wash my hands… unlike you, Mr. Grubby-hands.”
“Hey! I wiped!” Zach reached for a few more tissues and resisted the urge to scrub his palm on his jeans. He could hear the sound of a door being opened, then the quiet hum of a fluorescent bulb as Chris had reached his small bathroom. “Besides, I never make as much mess as you anyway. You’re like a kid with paint sometimes… sticky, creamy paint,” he couldn’t help but giggle then at the image in his head which caused him to laugh harder, shoulders shaking against the couch cushion as he curled up on his side.
“Paint?” Chris asked, his voice again reaching that highly amused tone that indicated a slightly silly mood. “You want me to paint you a little picture with my cum next time?” He went on, a little louder now over the sound of the water tap running in the background. “I’d just need some colored canvas because you wouldn’t see it on white. Or a UV lamp... You know, this is kinda disgusting though. You’re one weird and kinky fella, you know that?”
“I’m the one with a kink? Who’s the one offering to paint a picture with his own seminal fluid, you sick freak,” Zach laughed down the phone, never tiring of the banter between the pair of them. It was times like this when he truly loved Chris - not because of the way he looked, or the way he was so passionate about everything in his life, but because of small, intimate - frankly weird as fuck - moments like this. They could spend hours talking about nothing and everything, and Zach just adored listening to his boyfriend. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he listened to Chris finish washing his hands. “Even if you are a freak, I still love you. You know that right, you sicko?”
“You love me because I’m a freak. In fact, I think you totally corrupted me, man. I was all innocent when I met you and look at me now: dirty talk and phone sex.” His only half suppressed laughter further emphasized that he didn’t even believe his own words, and Zach was sure Chris was biting his lower lip in that boyish way of his while shaking his head at the moment, his cheeks slightly flushing and his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not to mention all that kinky stuff with ice cubes and handcuffs,” he added before Zach could hear the sound made from brushing teeth.
“Uh huh… right,” Zach drawled through the laughter, even as another yawn interrupted. “It was my fault someone gave you handcuffs and you kept them. And who was it who sat on me until I agreed to install that ridiculous skype, just so they could video chat with me? I know who corrupted who here…”
“I didn’t sit on you, because if I had we wouldn’t have needed skype or anything else,” Chris replied, voice slightly muffled as he still seemed to have his mouth full of toothpaste. A few more brushes and he spat out and rinsed. “Plus you did complain that you could never see me. Which, okay, had been my thoughts exactly. If that stupid thing didn’t break the connection every other second and wasn’t such a hassle to set up I’d be wanting to do that every day.”
Zach huffed out a chuckle, feeling warm and relaxed as he leaned back into the couch. “Gotta love technology. Anyhoo if we did that every day - or even this - I’d just want to be sleeping the rest of the time. How do I never get this tired when you’re actually here?”
“That’s because you’re too excited with having me around, obviously,” Chris replied with a smug tone though not nearly as arrogant as the words could have sounded - just more of that lighthearted banter between them. “So you’re only tired because you’re so bored without me… Not because of any exhausting work at the moment or anything,” he chuckled and then, again, let out a yawn.
“Uh huh, ‘course,” he replied, smiling into the phone. “Obviously down to you and not the work or the fantastic orgasm I just had with some guy on the phone. Now he was hot… maybe I’ll introduce you some day.” Another yawn split his face and he rolled onto his back as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Y’know, I might just keep him all for myself ‘stead.”
“Oh man.” Chris let out one of those slightly high-pitched half chuckles, half giggles, though it sounded a little fainter than it usually would have, a clear sign that he, too, was getting sleepy... along with the fact that he didn’t come up with any witty replies anymore. “So you’re really just staying on the couch? While I’m lying in my comfy bed already?”
Zach lifted his head slightly to look down at the couch. It wasn’t as comfortable as his bed was, but after tonight, after this call, he was more aware than usual of how much empty space there’d be next to him. A huge Chris shaped gap under the covers with him. “Yeah, I’ll stay here,” he said quietly, sliding a small cushion under his head and pulling down the throw from the back. He imagined Chris sliding under the covers in his bed and sighed. “Bed feels too big at the moment,” he confessed, a slightly lopsided apologetic grin on his face. “Besides if I move now I’ll just wake up properly and then it’ll take me hours to fall asleep again. You should sleep, Chris - stop worrying about me.”
“Aww man, it won’t be that long now anymore. Few more weeks and we can…” His words were interrupted by a loud, long yawn. “Crawl into bed together. Just need to sort all my appointments ‘n shit out. So…” Another yawn. “Ugh… If I don’t say anything anymore I fell asleep, but we can stay on the phone a bit longer. So stop worrying ‘bout me worrying ‘bout you, ‘kay?”
“Hmmph, ‘m allowed to worry. Older than you so I can,” he mumbled sleepily as he pulled his knees up towards his chest, tucking the throw around himself. “And if you fall asleep I’ll just whisper subliminal messages about how great Miley Cyrus is in your ear.”
“Mhm, right. As long as you don’t start singing her songs, too,” Chris barely more than mumbled and then remained quiet for a little while longer so that Zach already thought his boyfriend had fallen asleep. But then: “Zach? Love you.”
“Love you too, Chris,” came the whispered reply, and Zach wasn’t even sure at first if he’d actually said the simple words out loud or just in his head. But then he heard a quiet, very faint mumble from Chris in response and knew that even if the other man had been on the precipice of sleep he’d somehow heard. Reaching onto the table beside the couch Zach turned the lamp off and lay in the darkness for a while, just listening to the soft, slow breathing at the other end of the line. Almost a lullaby that helped calm and relax him further.
As he felt himself start to sink into that welcoming state of oblivion his last remembered thought was about how much, exactly, a call to Canada cost these days. Then before he could worry any further, or even care about ending the call he felt himself drift off completely, kept company by the man he loved.
Technology wasn’t so bad after all.
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When one of you works in New York and the other has a gig in Vancouver, finding the chance and means to spend some quality time together can be difficult and frustrating. Especially when your boyfriend sends you a certain magazine through the post.
Disclaimer: We do not own the actors, unfortunately. Not even as pets.
Word Count: 6462
Authors: petbubble and leandralocke
Authors' notes: Prompted by the idea of Chris sending Zach a preview copy of Details magazine... just because.
Zach tucked the phone handset between his ear and shoulder as he waited for the call to be connected, leaving his hands free to continue opening the mail he’d grabbed on his way into the apartment tonight. Digging his thumb underneath another heavily glued flap he cursed quietly under his breath, reminding himself yet again that he really should get one of those electronic envelope openers - or at the very least an old fashioned one. An expensive, solid wood handled sharp knife that would take the brunt of all this paper abuse instead of his thumb.
The call had connected and he listened to the dull rhythm of the dialling tone at the other end of the line, a sound he’d become almost as familiar with as his own ring tone. Or the sound of skype connecting. Or that instant messenger goofery that he’d allowed to be installed on his phone. Long-distance relationships of any kind - familial or otherwise - sucked. Sighing as he waited for the person at the other end of the line to move their damn fat ass and pick up, Zach pushed his thumb further under the sealed flap and impatiently tore at it to open the envelope. Tore at it until the thin paper sliced through the edge of his thumb.
“Fucking damnit!” he swore loudly just as the call was answered. Typical…
He heard the familiar soft and warm chuckle on the other end of the line and could almost imagine the slightly crooked grin that normally was accompanying said sound. “Is that you getting straight to the point because you missed me like hell or did you just do something incredibly clumsy to hurt yourself again?”
Narrowing his eyes, Zach made a face as he sucked on his still stinging thumb.
“Shut up, I’m not clumsy,” he grumbled down the phone, purposefully ignoring the first part of the question simply because of that ‘clumsy’ dig, eyes narrowing further as he heard the stifled chuckle in reply. “Dumbass mail is just trying to decapitate me.”
“Ohh, mail,” Chris said, his voice sounding strangely (and most likely faked) surprised and enthusiastic. “So, anything interesting in there?”
Zach looked at the pile of paper and card on his lap and the couch seat next to him as he shifted the position of the handset against his ear. Most of what he’d already opened had been the usual - unsolicited mail from companies trying to sell him new credit cards, pizza and Thai delivery menus, subscription updates, one bank statement - and a few ‘unknowns’; those envelopes and packets that didn’t have company logos on the covers and one…
“Is this your writing?” he asked as he pulled a foolscap-sized manila packet from the bottom of the pile and held it up in front of his face. It was in one of those packets sold specifically to keep things flat and protected and had Vancouver postage on it as well as his name and address in a familiar scrawled hand.
“Chris, you didn’t need to send me your autograph, dude. You should know by now that I can forge it practically perfectly,” he joked, a small smile creeping over his lips as he shook the package trying to determine what it might contain.
Another of those soft, slightly high-pitched chuckles resounded through the phone, ending in a slight snort. “No way you can, with that girly handwriting of yours. But why don’t you stop staring at it like it’s a Christmas gift and finally open the damn envelope?” Chris just knew him all too well.
“It had better be something interesting,” Zach heard himself grumble down the phone as he moved the phone back between his head and shoulder. The tone of his voice was deceptive, though, because he was actually curious as hell. Chris usually emailed him stuff through or even saved it for those rare times recently that they actually managed to be in each other's physical company. Sending something through the mail was… new and hence intriguing.
He eventually managed to open the packet - luckily this envelope had had one of those “pull here” tags on that Zach knew his still stinging thumb was eternally grateful for. Tipping it upside down, he slid his fingers inside and fumbled for the contents.
“So are you going to tell me what was so important that you had to smuggle it through customs by mail? Dude… it’s not some weird Canadian porn is it? You know with bacon and snow and-“
Zach stopped his rambling and stared at the image that was dangling upside down from his fingers. His head was already tilted to the side to hold the phone, but he moved it a little more whilst simultaneously rotating the magazine. Because that’s what he’d pulled from the envelope. A full size, fairly weighty, glossy papered, brightly colored…
“Fuuuuuck,” he breathed as he just stared, wide-eyed at the cover.
“Yeah, I know, badly photo-shopped cover - almost bad enough to go on photoshop disasters dot com,” Chris said, suddenly sounding slightly nervous, no trace of false modesty in his tone. “I dunno why they had to retouch it so severely. But the ones inside are better… I think. Or… what do you think? Was that a ‘fuck how awesome’ or ‘fuck how fugly’ fuck?”
Zach’s ear heard the voice, noted the nervous, almost boyish tone and words, but his brain was just exploding, and all he could do for a few more seconds was stare at the photo on the cover. Slowly he started to come back to his senses and had to clear his suddenly dry throat before he could even attempt to speak.
“Chris… I… Not ugly,” was all that he managed to say at first as he rotated the magazine cover so that it was the right way up and looked properly this time. Now his eyes registered the ultra-smoothness of his boyfriend’s features that some well-meaning yet misguided graphic designer had deemed appropriate for the American magazine market. Yeah, that wasn’t such a great look, but the hair, the sleeveless body-hugging top, the arms - Jesus, the arms! - and the-
“Pants,” Zach heard a voice croak before he realized it was his and burst out laughing in embarrassment. “Oh god! Chris… babe, I’m sorry. I just… Damn this is a good photo. A good photo.” Then he remembered what the younger man had said just moments before.
“Wait. There are more? Inside? Will I survive?”
“Well,” came the slightly prolonged reply, a tone now almost sounding smug compared to the previous nervous babbling, and Zach could practically see the grin Chris would be wearing right now. “Probably not if you’re into muscle cars,” he said, chuckling again. Then he cleared his throat. “So… you like the… pants?”
Zach didn’t even bother to hide the grin on his own face as his eyes roamed over the magazine cover for about the twelfth time since he’d opened the packet. “The pants are definitely…,” he couldn’t help the throaty chuckle that escaped from his lips. “They definitely stand out, Pine. How many pairs of socks did you shove down there?”
“Shut up!!” Chris half huffed, half laughed until all that was left was that bubbly, high-pitched but soft chuckle that was so characteristic of him. “If there’s one thing that’s not photo-shopped it’s the bulge in my pants. So… um… looked at the others yet?”
“Not yet; for some reason I’ve yet to fathom I’ve been staring at the fucking ugly dude on the cover. If they’d only moved him over to one side you could have seen a helluva lot more of that great looking car.” Zach giggled over the protests that came from the other end of the line as he flicked through the magazine pages wondering if he’d missed the rest of the photos before his eye was caught.
“Hang on, I think I’ve found your article,” he mumbled distractedly as he set the magazine on his lap and, after licking the tip of his middle finger, moved back a few pages. There, over several pages, were more photographs. A lot more. Chris reclining in what he assumed was the same car as the one on the cover. Chris standing, thumbs in pockets, almost channeling the spirit of James Dean as he stared arrogantly into the camera. Chris...
Jesus.
Zach swallowed hard as he stared at a photo of Chris looking fucking hot as hell sitting open legged on a leather couch - or was it a displaced back seat of a car? He couldn't tell, and really didn't give that much of a fuck about what his boyfriend might or might not be sitting on as he stared at the picture. He recognized the very familiar pose all too well - the relaxed, almost effortless body language saying If you want it, you can have it; just come here... that was complemented by Chris' tilted head, the look in his eyes that verged on a plea. And it wasn't just his memory that was stimulated, Zach acknowledged with a slowly raised eyebrow as he felt a familiar stirring in his stomach.
“Did you… Have you seen these already? Did you know how fucking hot you looked and you didn’t tell me? You bastard…”
"Well, duh! I've put the magazine in an envelope for you, didn't I? Got a few issues pre-release. So of course I've seen them," Chris replied, chuckling. "And okay then. I thought you also loved me for my modesty but apparently not. So... next time I'll brag what a goddamn sexy motherfucker I am." The chuckle turned into a slightly deeper, throaty laugh, almost a groan before Chris clicked his tongue. "Though I still think they're a bit... well... high gloss, perfectly polished, fake looking. But the main thing's that you like 'em."
“Of course they're high gloss and professional. They're in a magazine, you idiot,” Zach replied as he tried to sound... well, normal. Not like the highly aroused perverted fanboy he currently felt like. One who only wanted to end the call and stick a sweaty palmed hand into his pants; to jerk off over the-
Damnit Zach - this is your boyfriend for fuck's sake! Could you be more of a creeper?
Clearing his throat he shuffled on the couch, ignoring the soft thud of paper hitting the floor by his feet - the mail that had previously been on his lap now pooling around his bare feet.
Fuck, he missed Chris. Mostly for him, the annoying, over-excited, enthusiastic, funny, loveable, loving idiot, but at times like this - when he was reminded of Chris' physicality - he missed his body, his breath and the simple feel and smell of him. Long distance relationships really did suck. “And sure I like them, they make you look a very... pretty motherfucker,” he joked, trying to keep any hint of longing out of his tone.
"Well... good then," Chris replied, and there wasn't any trace of that mock smugness left in his tone now. More something like pride and feeling flattered.
There was a moment of silence between them, the kind of silence that often occurred when you didn't know how to keep a conversation going, although Zach and Chris hardly ever had the problem that they didn't know what to talk about anymore. But maybe - Zach liked to think it was most likely - Chris had had the same thought in mind as he, was missing his boyfriend as much as Zach did, wishing beaming wasn't only existent in the fictional Sci-Fi universe they had only been a part of as actors. "So... um... how's it going in the Big Apple?" Chris asked then, breaking the silence. "And with the play. At least you only had one show tonight so I bet you're not as exhausted as Saturday."
As he listened to Chris talk Zach had turned his position almost ninety degrees to lean back against the couch arm and lifted his legs up onto the seat cushions in front of him. Kicking the mail he'd opened earlier onto the floor to join the other envelopes he propped the open magazine on his slightly raised knees, flicking through the pages of Chris' article; not really reading the words, but always returning to that one photograph. “Yeah, it's good - I'm good. Think I may be getting kinda used to it all a bit more now - not wanting to fall straight into bed anymore,” he replied as he flicked lazily through the rest of the magazine. He felt a sharp pang of guilt over the short-lived phone call they'd had at the weekend, another casualty of the play.
“Sorry about Saturday, man - I feel shit that I wasn't really up for much conversation. I'll make it up to you - promise. So, how's Vancouver? Those foreigners treating my man right?”
"Hey, no problem. I know how exhausting theater can be, and dude," he let out a short, breathy laugh, "you have seven hours of play time on some days. So I get it. But... making it up to me sounds good anyway. How about giving me a back rub? God, wish you really could do that because I'm so fucking tense you can't even imagine it. Well, okay, maybe you can. But yeah, I've had some intense scenes the past couple of days. All that running around and jumping in and out of cars. But aside from that all's fine. Having a pretty damn good time here," he said and then, when he continued, Zach could almost hear the pout he must be wearing now. "Except for when I miss you, of course."
“Miss you too,” he whispered more than said as he felt his heart grow a little heavier. He sighed and ruefully smiled to himself, partly glad that Chris wasn't there to see the pathetically maudlin expression that he knew he was wearing. Of course, if Chris was there then neither of them would be missing the other and feeling this way.
He shook his head and rolled his eyes. There was no way he was going to let himself drift into a solo pity party and spoil his 'Chris time'. With both of them having such busy schedules they had to take what they could - when they could. “Back rub? I... dunno. Don't they have a chiropractor on set?” he teased, trying and failing to keep the grin from his voice.
"Yeah they do, but I prefer you as my masseur," Chris replied, chuckling softly.
“I know, I know. Don't deny you only want me for my fingers, Besides it sounds like you've been having a blast anyway - I saw some of the set pictures. Not sure I'm fully liking the tailored look on you though. I like you looking rough and mean,” he chuckled as his hands found their way back to the magazine pages with Chris' photographs.
"Hey! A minute ago you liked me retouched into perfection like a Ken doll, and this look you don't like? But it's... like business Ken," he laughed, almost even giggled with that unique pleasant and totally not ridiculous sounding laugh of his. "Oh god, I think I need some sleep too. Listen to the bullshit I'm letting out of my big mouth here."
“Business Ken? Sounds like some kind of gigolo toy - where can I get one? Can I dress it up in a sleeveless tee and chaps with a chunky zipper?” Zach giggled in reply, unable to help himself. “And I'm surprised you're letting anything out of that big mouth of yours,” he continued as his grin widened. “You're normally so good at swallowing...”
Chris laughed wholeheartedly, a trace of amused disbelief in the sound this time, and Zach could very well imagine that his boyfriend was shaking his head in the moment. "You're unbelievable, you know that? And very nice of you to hint at blow jobs now when you know neither of us can give or receive any. Thank you very much."
“Who was it who sent his boyfriend sex-photos through the mail?” Zach retorted though he was still chuckling at Chris' reaction. “And you're welcome, honey.”
"Sex-pho... They're not sex-photos!" Chris replied, flattered, surprised, amused - all that was audible in his tone. "They're just photos. I'm not even shirtless or anything. But... are you saying they... turned you on?"
Zach suddenly flipped the magazine shut, now more than ever intensely aware of the effect the photos - that photo had been having on him. He felt a slow flush crawl over his cheeks even though there was no-one else in the apartment, no-one to catch him out. “No...” he replied slowly, trying unsuccessfully to keep the lie out of his voice.
"Oh man," Chris laughed, obviously not believing his boyfriend. "I kinda don't know if I find that very cute or just weeeeird," he said teasingly and let out a few breathy chuckles.
“Shut up,” Zach growled down the phone line. Why did he feel like a teenager who had just been caught looking at porn? Chris was right - it wasn't as though the pictures were blatantly erotic, but there was just... something in them. Something about the way he looked at the camera, the small almost-smile on his face in the black and white photo, the breathy gasp captured in the red colored one. He shifted position again as he felt a knot of something twitch in his stomach. “Just... shut up.”
And indeed, for the next five, ten, fifteen seconds there was no sound to be heard from the other end of the line, just an occasional soft breath.
Groaning, half in annoyance and half in - whatever else, Zach pulled a face at the handset. “Pine, you can be such a dick sometimes.”
"What?" he asked in mock outrage. "You told me to shut up. Besides... I was imagining what you'd be doing once we hang up, with that magazine in one hand and the other... well."
“You were?” Zach practically squeaked in response down the phone. How did Chris always seem to know what he was doing or thinking about doing. “I mean... I wasn’t… I wouldn't be doing... Fuck it, Pine - do you have cameras in here or something?”
"No, but I can read your thoughts," he said, lowering his voice in a mock mysterious drawl. "And you’re thinking... that you want to shove your hand down my pants and make out with me on the hood of that car. Am I right?"
Zach laughed and noticed absently that it was a part groaning and mostly breathy noise. His heart was beating faster in his chest and as he moved his legs on the couch he felt the fabric of his jeans rub against his groin, the sensation making him inhale in a quiet yet rushed gasp.
“No...” he started, licking his lips as he tried to slow his breathing down by exhaling through his nose. “I want to shove my hand down your pants and then fuck you on that leather seat. If you want to make out though, we can always just leave it at that,” he teased.
"Mmmmh, that's even better," Chris replied, and his voice had become a lot deeper and softer, the sound of his breathing more prominent over the phone now. "Are you thinking about this now? I mean... not just thinking about it but... imagining it?"
“You mean am I imagining pushing you up hard against the hood of that car? Imagining running my hands up your bare arms as I grind against you? Or imagining myself straddling you on that seat and tearing open what's left of those shirt fasteners? Heh. I don't think so,” he lied, the grin broadening on his face. “Are you?” He nipped his bottom lip between his teeth and made a fist with his spare hand, determined not to give in to the desire he felt. Because although he hadn't been imagining those things until Chris had asked, he was now. And by God, it was turning him on.
"Oh God," Chris let out as a soft sigh, now all the mischievous teasing absent from his voice, and it appeared that Zach had turned the game around. "Okay. You're fully aware of what's just happening to me, right?" Another low, deep, breath. And another.
“If by that query you mean do I know how hard you are, then yeah I think I'm fully aware of what's happening. Do you like that your pictures make me hard, Chris? Make me want you?” Zach stretched his legs out, lifting his ass slightly off the cushion and he groaned softly as the fabric pulled over his dick, rubbing against it as he moved.
"Mhm... yeah." The reply came with much more delay than earlier, his voice now getting almost hoarse, breathing deeper and faster. "Do you... know what I'm doing right now?"
He had a suspicion, actually a fairly concrete idea that he knew what was happening at the other end of the line, but he wanted to hear it. Wanted to hear the words from Chris' mouth. “Tell me,” he half instructed, half begged, the lust he was feeling clear in his voice. “Tell me what you're doing Chris... Tell me.”
"Ughh," he groaned and inhaled deeply. "I've... opened my pants and am rubbing my dick. God, I'm so fucking hard right now. Wish it was your hand.... Or your mouth."
Zach's breath was released in a shudder as his fist clenched tighter before relaxing fully against his zipper. He unfastened his own pants and slipped a hand inside, tipping his head back and sighing as he felt how hard he was already. “You're... you... Fuck, Chris, I wish it was my mouth too. It's been... shit... too long since I tasted you.”
The next sound that Zach could hear over the phone was a low whimper, followed by deep breaths through the nose, and Zach was almost sure Chris was biting his lip right now. "I... wish I could touch you, too. I... I know it's not real but... makes me jealous to think of you making out with those guys on stage. Wish it was me instead. God, I want you so bad right now, Zach. Want you to fuck me."
Although the words that Chris was saying tore a little at Zach's heart, at his soul because he, too, missed Chris like he'd never missed anyone before; the raw emotion behind them, the basic fact that his boyfriend needed, wanted him... was jealous of another actor made his heart swell and his cock stiffen like no sweet words of romance would ever do.
“Mmhm... I want to be there now - on top of you. I want my hands to be pulling your pants down, freeing that hard dick of yours... shit... I want to feel your dick in my hand, baby. I don't want to just touch mine, I want yours,” Zach moaned and pretty much whined the last few words as he pushed his own pants down over his hips. Fuck it, next time he planned to call Chris he would remember not to wear such stupidly tight jeans. The couch felt cool against his bare ass as he slid his hand over his stomach and down lower through the coarse hair, at first ignoring the hardness he could feel to cup his balls.
"Ugh, God!" Chris exclaimed in no more than a loud whisper, voice rough with lust now. "And I... I want to touch you, get down on my knees and suck your dick until you come into my mouth. Mmmh, God... can we..." His words were starting to get less coherent, almost bubbling out of him, only interrupted by more low, deep breaths. "Fuck, I wish you could feel how hard I am right now. Knowing that you're listening while I'm jacking off is... God that's so hot. Shit, I'm close already."
Pressing the handset closer to his ear, Zach moaned as he strained to hear more of those delicious noises coming from Chris. Just the sound of his labored breathing, tempered by the occasional higher pitched whimper was enough to create that familiar tightness in his belly and chest. He knew the younger man was closer to release than he was, even with his hand now wrapped firmly around his own cock; gripping and twisting as he tried to hold the phone to his ear.
“Oh shit baby... I can just see your mouth around my dick. Your lips... that tongue... way better than my hand. Chris... oh fuck...,” he said hoarsely, the words starting to staccato now as his breathing became more ragged; short rushed phrases rather than perfect sentences. But for once, for this purpose Zach couldn't give a shit about long words and perfectly formed replies. He groaned louder as he heard a whimper from the other end of the line. “Oh yesss, that's it Chris. Fuck you are so sexy baby. Imagine me... unngh... me rubbing my cock at your asshole. Waiting for you to... mmmh... say yes.”
“Ugh yes,” Chris groaned out, sucking in the air in a long, low hissing sound that turned into a shuddered whimper. “I want you to fuck me, I… shit… oh God, I’m…” Zach heard him swallow and exhale through his nostrils after his voice had broken with lust. And it was clear as day that Chris was holding himself back, trying to keep up some composure. “How close are you? Don’t want to…”
As he lay there, back pressed against the couch arm, ass rubbing half against the roughness of the couch fabric and half against the waistband of his pushed down jeans, Zach squeezed his eyes shut and listened to both his own and Chris’ heavy breathing. Even with the slight echo on the line he could almost feel Chris there in the room with him breathing in his ear, could imagine that it was the other man’s hand gripping and sliding along his cock not his own, teasing and pumping, harder and harder…
“Close…” he hissed the word out as he tried to hold enough of his concentration steady to continue speaking - at least for a little while longer. A small part of his mind knew that once he heard Chris lose that last inch of control, once his gloriously sexy hot as fuck boyfriend lapsed completely into moans and gasps rather than words that he himself was lost too.
“Do it. Come… come… for me. Please?”
There were no words coming from Chris now, just those sounds that Zach had come to know so well. He could almost see the expression on his boyfriend’s face, brought to life in his mind through both memories and those delicious noises. Chris’ mouth would be open, gasping for air with every hard and uneven pumping of his hand. His forehead would wrinkle, eyes shut firmly, and his head pressed backwards against the cushions while his lower body arched up, momentarily frozen in motion as the tension in his body caused his muscles to spasm. And then, everything would fall from him with that last deep and long and relishing groan of delicious release, only leaving him to breathe heavily for a while.
And those mental images, along with the movement of his own hand were enough to send Zach in the exact same direction. He felt a pressure start to build in his lower back, his heart racing faster as he lost sense of almost everything. It was as though there were a thousand - a hundred thousand - voices filling his head with wordless whispers, an explosion of white noise that focused into one thing - Chris’ voice. That was all that was holding Zach in reality - he was no longer on his couch, no longer in his apartment. He was in a bubble of sensation, just him, his body and the voice at the other end of the phone that he could no longer even feel pressed against the side of his face urging him on until finally.. blissfully… he heard himself cry out, felt himself tense as his heart pounded loudly and then there was the familiar warm wetness between his fingers as his hand slowed its rhythm.
It took a moment until he recognized the soft sound on the other end of the line, that breathy chuckle again, though right now still mixed with soft sighs of contentment. “I think we’re getting the hang of this,” Chris said and the next moment Zach could have sworn he was stifling a yawn. “Though it’s… Ah well.” Not as good as the real deal? Had he wanted to say that but then decided against it? “You still alive over there?” Another faint chuckle.
“Alive? Yeah, I think so…” he murmured quietly, content from the physical release, but also not at the same time. Slowly stretching behind his head, Zach grabbed a handful of tissue from the box on the table, wiping the worst of the stickiness off his fingers. He shuffled further down on the couch as he reached underneath to push and kick his jeans off fully. “Another fine performance from you, Pine,” he joked as he rolled onto his side, wanting nothing more than to be rolling over into Chris’ arms instead of the open edge of an otherwise empty couch. “Y’know this sucks.” He tried to sound lighthearted and mostly succeeded. Mostly.
“Hmmm, actually,” Chris started slowly in a pondering and equally lighthearted tone. “Technically there’s no sucking. Which basically sucks, so yeah, you’re right.” He laughed faintly, which came out as almost a snort, and the next second a loud yawn came through the phone.
“I’m always right, Christopher. And wow, I’m that good I tired you out, huh?” Zach tried to stifle his own yawn which just seemed to make it louder. “Shit, I could just sleep here.”
“Then do it,” Chris laughed. “And I’ve been tired all evening but yeah, even more so now. Don’t think I’ll be up for much longer. I’m gonna move into the bedroom, though.” He heard something shuffling, that old sofa Chris still had creaking as he probably got up from it. “And I’m gonna wash my hands… unlike you, Mr. Grubby-hands.”
“Hey! I wiped!” Zach reached for a few more tissues and resisted the urge to scrub his palm on his jeans. He could hear the sound of a door being opened, then the quiet hum of a fluorescent bulb as Chris had reached his small bathroom. “Besides, I never make as much mess as you anyway. You’re like a kid with paint sometimes… sticky, creamy paint,” he couldn’t help but giggle then at the image in his head which caused him to laugh harder, shoulders shaking against the couch cushion as he curled up on his side.
“Paint?” Chris asked, his voice again reaching that highly amused tone that indicated a slightly silly mood. “You want me to paint you a little picture with my cum next time?” He went on, a little louder now over the sound of the water tap running in the background. “I’d just need some colored canvas because you wouldn’t see it on white. Or a UV lamp... You know, this is kinda disgusting though. You’re one weird and kinky fella, you know that?”
“I’m the one with a kink? Who’s the one offering to paint a picture with his own seminal fluid, you sick freak,” Zach laughed down the phone, never tiring of the banter between the pair of them. It was times like this when he truly loved Chris - not because of the way he looked, or the way he was so passionate about everything in his life, but because of small, intimate - frankly weird as fuck - moments like this. They could spend hours talking about nothing and everything, and Zach just adored listening to his boyfriend. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he listened to Chris finish washing his hands. “Even if you are a freak, I still love you. You know that right, you sicko?”
“You love me because I’m a freak. In fact, I think you totally corrupted me, man. I was all innocent when I met you and look at me now: dirty talk and phone sex.” His only half suppressed laughter further emphasized that he didn’t even believe his own words, and Zach was sure Chris was biting his lower lip in that boyish way of his while shaking his head at the moment, his cheeks slightly flushing and his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not to mention all that kinky stuff with ice cubes and handcuffs,” he added before Zach could hear the sound made from brushing teeth.
“Uh huh… right,” Zach drawled through the laughter, even as another yawn interrupted. “It was my fault someone gave you handcuffs and you kept them. And who was it who sat on me until I agreed to install that ridiculous skype, just so they could video chat with me? I know who corrupted who here…”
“I didn’t sit on you, because if I had we wouldn’t have needed skype or anything else,” Chris replied, voice slightly muffled as he still seemed to have his mouth full of toothpaste. A few more brushes and he spat out and rinsed. “Plus you did complain that you could never see me. Which, okay, had been my thoughts exactly. If that stupid thing didn’t break the connection every other second and wasn’t such a hassle to set up I’d be wanting to do that every day.”
Zach huffed out a chuckle, feeling warm and relaxed as he leaned back into the couch. “Gotta love technology. Anyhoo if we did that every day - or even this - I’d just want to be sleeping the rest of the time. How do I never get this tired when you’re actually here?”
“That’s because you’re too excited with having me around, obviously,” Chris replied with a smug tone though not nearly as arrogant as the words could have sounded - just more of that lighthearted banter between them. “So you’re only tired because you’re so bored without me… Not because of any exhausting work at the moment or anything,” he chuckled and then, again, let out a yawn.
“Uh huh, ‘course,” he replied, smiling into the phone. “Obviously down to you and not the work or the fantastic orgasm I just had with some guy on the phone. Now he was hot… maybe I’ll introduce you some day.” Another yawn split his face and he rolled onto his back as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “Y’know, I might just keep him all for myself ‘stead.”
“Oh man.” Chris let out one of those slightly high-pitched half chuckles, half giggles, though it sounded a little fainter than it usually would have, a clear sign that he, too, was getting sleepy... along with the fact that he didn’t come up with any witty replies anymore. “So you’re really just staying on the couch? While I’m lying in my comfy bed already?”
Zach lifted his head slightly to look down at the couch. It wasn’t as comfortable as his bed was, but after tonight, after this call, he was more aware than usual of how much empty space there’d be next to him. A huge Chris shaped gap under the covers with him. “Yeah, I’ll stay here,” he said quietly, sliding a small cushion under his head and pulling down the throw from the back. He imagined Chris sliding under the covers in his bed and sighed. “Bed feels too big at the moment,” he confessed, a slightly lopsided apologetic grin on his face. “Besides if I move now I’ll just wake up properly and then it’ll take me hours to fall asleep again. You should sleep, Chris - stop worrying about me.”
“Aww man, it won’t be that long now anymore. Few more weeks and we can…” His words were interrupted by a loud, long yawn. “Crawl into bed together. Just need to sort all my appointments ‘n shit out. So…” Another yawn. “Ugh… If I don’t say anything anymore I fell asleep, but we can stay on the phone a bit longer. So stop worrying ‘bout me worrying ‘bout you, ‘kay?”
“Hmmph, ‘m allowed to worry. Older than you so I can,” he mumbled sleepily as he pulled his knees up towards his chest, tucking the throw around himself. “And if you fall asleep I’ll just whisper subliminal messages about how great Miley Cyrus is in your ear.”
“Mhm, right. As long as you don’t start singing her songs, too,” Chris barely more than mumbled and then remained quiet for a little while longer so that Zach already thought his boyfriend had fallen asleep. But then: “Zach? Love you.”
“Love you too, Chris,” came the whispered reply, and Zach wasn’t even sure at first if he’d actually said the simple words out loud or just in his head. But then he heard a quiet, very faint mumble from Chris in response and knew that even if the other man had been on the precipice of sleep he’d somehow heard. Reaching onto the table beside the couch Zach turned the lamp off and lay in the darkness for a while, just listening to the soft, slow breathing at the other end of the line. Almost a lullaby that helped calm and relax him further.
As he felt himself start to sink into that welcoming state of oblivion his last remembered thought was about how much, exactly, a call to Canada cost these days. Then before he could worry any further, or even care about ending the call he felt himself drift off completely, kept company by the man he loved.
Technology wasn’t so bad after all.