SS: A Very Domestic Thing
SS: A Very Domestic Thing
Pairing: Pre-Pinto
Summary: He's missed this. It's a very domestic thing, something they used to do all the time and hardly do anymore.
Notes: This is a sort of prequel to Thou Shalt Not Covet. Chris mentioned a little blurb that got me thinking. This is what thinking for me leads to. Will elaborate later.
Disclaimer: To my knowledge, this never happened. I totally made it all up. If it's true, then maybe I'm clairvoyant or something. Also if it is? ROCK.
***
When Zach wakes up, it’s to a chest pressed tightly to his back, and arm thrown casually around his waist. He immediately closes his eyes and presses his face to the pillow.
They had fallen asleep having a horror movie marathon in Zach’s bedroom. He kicks his foot out tentatively and- yep, there it is- the popcorn bowl clatters to the floor, scattering the few kernels left all over. Chris merely grunts behind him, burying his face into Zach’s neck and squeezing his waist, before relaxing as sleep overtakes him again.
Zach closes his eyes again. One hand moves to rest over Chris’, fingers loose and pliant. He threads their fingers together gently.
He’s missed this. It’s a very domestic thing, something they used to do all the time and hardly do anymore. They’d watch too many movies, drink too much wine or beer, and pass out where they lay. Sometimes they would just get smashed at some bar and end up crashing on whatever flat surface they would find together. Usually they would wake twined together and hungover. Zach, being the bigger baby (according to Chris), would stay in bed an extra twenty minutes or so while Chris would mastermind in the kitchen, bringing a stack of buttery pancakes or eggs scrambled just so, the tiniest bit runny for Zach-
”That’s so fucking sick. They’re not even done, man! It's making me sick watching you eat. Ugh, I may need to go barf or something.”
“Mmm, they’re sooo good, you have no idea.”
-back to eat while lazily lounging on top of the bedcovers. Occasionally Chris would go back to sleep afterwards, usually using Zach’s legs or stomach as a pillow to prevent the other man from getting up.
Those days if he had nothing else to do Chris would usually hang around his place all day, quietly moving about Zach’s house as though it were his own. Zach would love it because some times he would see Chris smoking in his backyard while walking through the dining room, or rummaging through his dresser for a spare tee after a shower. His house felt lived in, like a home as though Chris was an extension of himself, a fixture that was simply supposed to be there. Never a guest in Zach’s house, just another occupant.
Lately, though, there haven’t been many days like that. Sure, two weeks ago they had gone out and gotten hammered, the pair of them passing out on Chris’ recliner. But Chris had an early morning call for Farragut North so when Zach had woken up it was in the middle of the afternoon and Chris was gone.. He had briefly considered the fridge, fingers wondering through the shelves absentmindedly, before throwing on his shoes and leaving. It didn’t seem right to cook in Chris’ kitchen when he wasn’t there.
Chris probably would’ve killed him for touching his precious Teflon without the proper supervision anyway. Zach still has a mark on the back of his hand from when he used a fork in a pan once. Chris thinks the scar is manly. Zach thinks it means Chris is a psychopath.
Kristen had mentioned once, about a year ago, that Chris was probably just trying to get into his pants.
”He sleeps in your bed then makes you breakfast, which you guys eat together in bed, moron. I'm telling you. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, you know.”
“You’ve got to stop talking to Hayden, girlfriend. Milo is a fat pig who will eat anything! I witnessed him taking a bite of a stick of butter once.”
Zach had laughed her off. Chris is just a very affectionate person. The very idea is too ludicrous to even pretend to take seriously. He once watched Chris hugging Mike from behind right in front of his girlfriend, arms crossed over the kid’s chest as they laughed, his face pressed to the back of Mike’s head. It was cute and fluffy and just cemented how touchy feely Chris was with his friends.
There were no lines with Chris Pine. It was something Zach had gotten very, very used to drumming in his head back when they first met.
Now that Zach thinks about it, there haven’t been any breakfast-in-bed hungover-morning-afters in a good eight months or so. Hmm. He tightens his legs, curling them closer to his stomach. Must rectify that. He decides when Chris eventually wakes up he will somehow get his skinny ass in the kitchen for some pancakes. He doesn’t like to indulge himself in them very often now, maybe once a month or so. He thinks he has some fresh strawberries still-
His train of thought is cut off by a groan from behind him.
“Stop thinking about food, it’s making me hungry.”
Chris’ hand squeezes his before letting go. Zach maybe presses back against Chris a bit too much as he shifts to lay on his back, but hey, the guy is attractive. Could anyone really blame him?
“How the hell did you know-?” He starts, but Chris waves a hand vaguely, almost hitting Zach in the nose.
“You do this thing when you’re hungry,” he starts, a yawn cutting him off. He still hasn’t opened his eyes, giving Zach the opportunity to enjoy the ruffled bedhead morning Chris Pine that nobody else gets to see.
Well, as far as he knows. Chris doesn’t talk about his love life much. Or at all, really. Zach's not sure if he even has one.
“You sort of curl your toes and scrunch your body up.” Chris opens his eyes, pupils dialating in the dim light. “It’s cute, in a really pathetic little boy sort of way.” Chris snickers, even as Zach’s hand shoots out to smack his stomach.
“Oh fuck off, Princess Whitelaw.” Zach inwardly smirks, using the hated nickname he found one day while surfing the net. Chris swears his so-called ‘fans’ are evil. Zach thinks they are awesome.
“Hey.” Chris pushes up to his elbow, rumpled and glaring. “I thought you swore you would never use that one again.”
“You swore,” Zach clarifies. “I laughed. A lot.”
“No more, or else I’m never making you breakfast in bed again.” Chris yawns again, stretching his body with catlike grace, then moves fluidly off the bed. Zach watches, in a detatched sort of way. Sure, Chris is basically sex on legs, but this is his straight friend. He would give his right kidney for Chris to be into guys as well, but that’s just not how the cards were dealt and Zach had long ago accepted that.
But if Chris is going to bend over and stick his ass in the air for Zach to ogle at while he grabs his socks, this early in the morning? Then Zach is going to stare and maybe drool a bit on the inside.
On the outside, though, he fake swoons, the back of one hand coming to rest upon his forehead. “But honey! You swore for better or worse!”
Chris just snorts. “You should be so lucky.” He sneers, struggling to stick his socks on his abnormally large feet. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll make you breakfast today if you promise to never again say those two words together in a sentence. At least in front of me, you evil genius.”
Zach holds three fingers up, thumb and pinky folded across his palm.
“Scouts honor.”
Chris just shakes his head as he leaves the bedroom. “I know you were never a scout, jackass!”
Zach smiles as he closes his eyes. He feels warm, muzzy. He settles again into the covers that smell like his friend as he listens to Chris talk to his dog in the kitchen.
It’s a very domestic thing, something they used to do all the time and hardly do anymore. But Chris is willing to give him another lazy morning with banter and breakfast in bed, so Zach will take what he can get.
He will never ask for more than Chris is willing to give.
***
The End
Is later. Am elaborating: So. I don't know if when you guys write your characters start talking to you as well, but my Chris does. He said something about how he threw himself at Zach for a year. I started thinking 'what was he doing, exactly?' and my Chris character answered with
"Well, I did this until I realized Zach wasn't interested. So I stopped doing it. He never even noticed."
and I went
"Hrm, that's a fun missing scene. Wonder what was going through Zach's head."
And then you guys benefited from it. He said he was oblivious, yet there was something in him that noticed things had changed. And now that this is out of my head, I can concentrate on other things. Like getting out thosethat wretched last parts.
Pairing: Pre-Pinto
Summary: He's missed this. It's a very domestic thing, something they used to do all the time and hardly do anymore.
Notes: This is a sort of prequel to Thou Shalt Not Covet. Chris mentioned a little blurb that got me thinking. This is what thinking for me leads to. Will elaborate later.
Disclaimer: To my knowledge, this never happened. I totally made it all up. If it's true, then maybe I'm clairvoyant or something. Also if it is? ROCK.
***
When Zach wakes up, it’s to a chest pressed tightly to his back, and arm thrown casually around his waist. He immediately closes his eyes and presses his face to the pillow.
They had fallen asleep having a horror movie marathon in Zach’s bedroom. He kicks his foot out tentatively and- yep, there it is- the popcorn bowl clatters to the floor, scattering the few kernels left all over. Chris merely grunts behind him, burying his face into Zach’s neck and squeezing his waist, before relaxing as sleep overtakes him again.
Zach closes his eyes again. One hand moves to rest over Chris’, fingers loose and pliant. He threads their fingers together gently.
He’s missed this. It’s a very domestic thing, something they used to do all the time and hardly do anymore. They’d watch too many movies, drink too much wine or beer, and pass out where they lay. Sometimes they would just get smashed at some bar and end up crashing on whatever flat surface they would find together. Usually they would wake twined together and hungover. Zach, being the bigger baby (according to Chris), would stay in bed an extra twenty minutes or so while Chris would mastermind in the kitchen, bringing a stack of buttery pancakes or eggs scrambled just so, the tiniest bit runny for Zach-
”That’s so fucking sick. They’re not even done, man! It's making me sick watching you eat. Ugh, I may need to go barf or something.”
“Mmm, they’re sooo good, you have no idea.”
-back to eat while lazily lounging on top of the bedcovers. Occasionally Chris would go back to sleep afterwards, usually using Zach’s legs or stomach as a pillow to prevent the other man from getting up.
Those days if he had nothing else to do Chris would usually hang around his place all day, quietly moving about Zach’s house as though it were his own. Zach would love it because some times he would see Chris smoking in his backyard while walking through the dining room, or rummaging through his dresser for a spare tee after a shower. His house felt lived in, like a home as though Chris was an extension of himself, a fixture that was simply supposed to be there. Never a guest in Zach’s house, just another occupant.
Lately, though, there haven’t been many days like that. Sure, two weeks ago they had gone out and gotten hammered, the pair of them passing out on Chris’ recliner. But Chris had an early morning call for Farragut North so when Zach had woken up it was in the middle of the afternoon and Chris was gone.. He had briefly considered the fridge, fingers wondering through the shelves absentmindedly, before throwing on his shoes and leaving. It didn’t seem right to cook in Chris’ kitchen when he wasn’t there.
Chris probably would’ve killed him for touching his precious Teflon without the proper supervision anyway. Zach still has a mark on the back of his hand from when he used a fork in a pan once. Chris thinks the scar is manly. Zach thinks it means Chris is a psychopath.
Kristen had mentioned once, about a year ago, that Chris was probably just trying to get into his pants.
”He sleeps in your bed then makes you breakfast, which you guys eat together in bed, moron. I'm telling you. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, you know.”
“You’ve got to stop talking to Hayden, girlfriend. Milo is a fat pig who will eat anything! I witnessed him taking a bite of a stick of butter once.”
Zach had laughed her off. Chris is just a very affectionate person. The very idea is too ludicrous to even pretend to take seriously. He once watched Chris hugging Mike from behind right in front of his girlfriend, arms crossed over the kid’s chest as they laughed, his face pressed to the back of Mike’s head. It was cute and fluffy and just cemented how touchy feely Chris was with his friends.
There were no lines with Chris Pine. It was something Zach had gotten very, very used to drumming in his head back when they first met.
Now that Zach thinks about it, there haven’t been any breakfast-in-bed hungover-morning-afters in a good eight months or so. Hmm. He tightens his legs, curling them closer to his stomach. Must rectify that. He decides when Chris eventually wakes up he will somehow get his skinny ass in the kitchen for some pancakes. He doesn’t like to indulge himself in them very often now, maybe once a month or so. He thinks he has some fresh strawberries still-
His train of thought is cut off by a groan from behind him.
“Stop thinking about food, it’s making me hungry.”
Chris’ hand squeezes his before letting go. Zach maybe presses back against Chris a bit too much as he shifts to lay on his back, but hey, the guy is attractive. Could anyone really blame him?
“How the hell did you know-?” He starts, but Chris waves a hand vaguely, almost hitting Zach in the nose.
“You do this thing when you’re hungry,” he starts, a yawn cutting him off. He still hasn’t opened his eyes, giving Zach the opportunity to enjoy the ruffled bedhead morning Chris Pine that nobody else gets to see.
Well, as far as he knows. Chris doesn’t talk about his love life much. Or at all, really. Zach's not sure if he even has one.
“You sort of curl your toes and scrunch your body up.” Chris opens his eyes, pupils dialating in the dim light. “It’s cute, in a really pathetic little boy sort of way.” Chris snickers, even as Zach’s hand shoots out to smack his stomach.
“Oh fuck off, Princess Whitelaw.” Zach inwardly smirks, using the hated nickname he found one day while surfing the net. Chris swears his so-called ‘fans’ are evil. Zach thinks they are awesome.
“Hey.” Chris pushes up to his elbow, rumpled and glaring. “I thought you swore you would never use that one again.”
“You swore,” Zach clarifies. “I laughed. A lot.”
“No more, or else I’m never making you breakfast in bed again.” Chris yawns again, stretching his body with catlike grace, then moves fluidly off the bed. Zach watches, in a detatched sort of way. Sure, Chris is basically sex on legs, but this is his straight friend. He would give his right kidney for Chris to be into guys as well, but that’s just not how the cards were dealt and Zach had long ago accepted that.
But if Chris is going to bend over and stick his ass in the air for Zach to ogle at while he grabs his socks, this early in the morning? Then Zach is going to stare and maybe drool a bit on the inside.
On the outside, though, he fake swoons, the back of one hand coming to rest upon his forehead. “But honey! You swore for better or worse!”
Chris just snorts. “You should be so lucky.” He sneers, struggling to stick his socks on his abnormally large feet. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll make you breakfast today if you promise to never again say those two words together in a sentence. At least in front of me, you evil genius.”
Zach holds three fingers up, thumb and pinky folded across his palm.
“Scouts honor.”
Chris just shakes his head as he leaves the bedroom. “I know you were never a scout, jackass!”
Zach smiles as he closes his eyes. He feels warm, muzzy. He settles again into the covers that smell like his friend as he listens to Chris talk to his dog in the kitchen.
It’s a very domestic thing, something they used to do all the time and hardly do anymore. But Chris is willing to give him another lazy morning with banter and breakfast in bed, so Zach will take what he can get.
He will never ask for more than Chris is willing to give.
***
The End
Is later. Am elaborating: So. I don't know if when you guys write your characters start talking to you as well, but my Chris does. He said something about how he threw himself at Zach for a year. I started thinking 'what was he doing, exactly?' and my Chris character answered with
"Well, I did this until I realized Zach wasn't interested. So I stopped doing it. He never even noticed."
and I went
"Hrm, that's a fun missing scene. Wonder what was going through Zach's head."
And then you guys benefited from it. He said he was oblivious, yet there was something in him that noticed things had changed. And now that this is out of my head, I can concentrate on other things. Like getting out thosethat wretched last parts.