FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Tongue-in-Cheek
Title: Tongue-in-Cheek
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairing: Pinto
Word Count: 2,718
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Promises: rimming, fingering
Disclaimer: Filthy lies
Summary: “This isn’t working - it’s not gonna fit,” Chris groans, burying his face in the pillow.
A/N: For this prompt at trek_rpf_kink. Just porn and snark, really. Sorry about the title, but I was assured no bricks would be thrown at my head.
“This isn’t working - it’s not gonna fit,” Chris groans, burying his face in the pillow.
Zach sighs and sits back on his heels. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”
“Keep digging, Watson!”
Chris doesn’t have to look back to know that Zach is probably massaging his temples in the adorable way he does when Chris says something particularly witty. “There are other ways we can do this, you know.”
“I really don’t think I can fit my ankles behind my head,” says Chris, rolling onto his back, “but I’m willing to try.”
Zach grips Chris’ ankles and holds them firmly in place. “I mean you could top.”
“Nuh-uh. If I’m having gay sex, then I’m going to have gay sex.”
“So your argument is that bottoming is essentially gayer?”
Chris nods solemnly. “That’s what porn taught me. Well, that and the unadvertised perks of working in the field of prison security.”
“Seriously?” Zach groans, and sure enough, he starts rubbing at his temples.
Sitting up, Chris gently pulls Zach’s hands away from his head. “Zach, I want this. I really do. I don’t know why my ass is being uncooperative. There’s gotta be more we can try.”
“There is,” Zach says, not deigning to explain himself as he gets up and heads for the bathroom. When he comes back, he’s got a washcloth in his hand and Chris can see he’s stripped the condom off his now half-hard cock. “Flip over,” he says.
Chris rolls his eyes but obeys. “What’s that for?”
“I think we started this the wrong way,” he says, spreading Chris’ butt cheeks. “And I’d say this lube tastes like ass, but, well.”
“Wait, you’re gonna taste… what?”
“And here I thought you were all about having gay sex.”
“Well, yeah, but you don’t have to… y’know.”
“Apparently I do,” Zach says, finishing with the washcloth and tossing it aside. “And I promise, I’m good at this.”
“Yeah, but…”
“Jesus, Chris, I didn’t know you were gonna go all timid virgin on me,” Zach laughs, and Chris is glad Zach can’t see how red his face is.
But Zach seems to get it. Chris feels a strong hand rubbing at his shoulder and hears, “Hey, I’m just fucking with you. I know you haven’t done this before. The last thing I need to do is make you more tense, right?”
“Damn straight,” Chris growls, trying to will his body to relax. He expects to feel Zach’s hands spreading his ass again, but instead he feels them stroke lightly down his back, palms brushing out and over his hipbones and coming back up his sides. Zach repeats the motion a few times, then coaxes Chris to stretch his arms out to the sides so he can rub them, too.
“Good?” he asks, sounding slightly repentant for his earlier teasing.
Chris hums an affirmative, the tension in his muscles slowly loosening under Zach’s hands. After a few more moments, he feels Zach’s lips at the back of his neck, gentle first before nipping lightly. He makes his way down the groove of Chris’ spine, his hands never stopping their soothing motion across his skin, and Chris tries not to think about where his mouth is headed.
Zach stops to grab a pillow and push it under Chris’ hips, shifting so he’s lying between Chris’ spread legs. He slaps Chris’ ass lightly. “Relax, man, you’re in for a treat. I won the Pennsylvania freestyle rimming championships three years in a row.”
Just as Chris cranes his head back to inform Zach that he’s almost certain there’s no such thing - and if there were, it wouldn’t be in Pennsylvania of all places, probably some ridiculously liberal country in northern Europe - Zach dips his head and places a soft, wet kiss below his tailbone, his stubble scraping lightly where no stubble has been before. It tickles a little, and Chris is about to announce this when Zach’s mouth drops lower and Chris says something like hhhnnnnngggghhh instead.
After that, Zach just plunges in, keeping Chris’ hips in place with an iron grip. It is without a doubt the weirdest fucking thing Chris has ever felt, with the wetness and the wriggling, and it takes him a few minutes to decide that it actually feels good. Really good. He tries to stretch his legs even wider and Zach chuckles in triumph. He grabs Chris’ hands and places them on his own ass and oh, okay, Zach wants to have his hands free.
“Definitely feeling the gayness now,” Chris announces, his back arched near the point of pain and his hands firmly gripping his cheeks to spread himself wider for Zach.
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Zach mutters, but he follows it up by stabbing his tongue into Chris’ hole while rubbing a thumb firmly against his taint and Chris is prepared to forgive him. He varies it up, alternating long, slow licks with deft circles of his tongue and, once or twice, a quick bite to the meat of Chris’ ass and Chris does not squeal like a twelve-year-old Justin Bieber fan. The muffling properties of the pillow under his face cover over a multitude of sins.
The bites make him tense, but the soft/rough swirl of Zach’s tongue afterward chases the tension right out of him. Just as he’s really starting to get into it, panting and rocking his hips down into the pillow, Zach pulls off and Chris can hear him pop his jaw. But his thumb replaces his tongue, rubbing over Chris’ pucker as if to keep it warm. “I think you’re ready for fingers now.”
“Fingers?” Chris asks dumbly, higher thought processes already a little shot. “Plural?”
“Yup. Flip over again.”
“Say please, asshole. I’m not a fucking pancake.”
Zach laughs, long and loud until he nearly tips backward. “Please, darling, turn over and let me see those entrancing blue eyes.”
“That’s more like it,” Chris grumbles, making a production of turning over on to his back. He tries to remove the pillow under his butt, but Zach keeps it there. Chris sits up a little and folds the pillow beneath his head in half - he intends to get a damn good look at whatever Zach’s going to do.
“Comfortable?” Zach asks, genuine fondness in his slightly crooked smile but a sparkle of wickedness in his eyes.
“Oh yeah. So comfortable I might fall asleep if you don’t get a fucking move on.”
“Oh my god, you are just the bitchiest little diva on the block, aren’t you, Pancake?”
Chris groans loudly and throws an arm across his eyes, leaving him entirely unprepared for Zach to grab his erection with a slick hand and pump hard. He wheezes in surprise and curls up to see Zach smirking. “That got your attention. Alright, baby, we’re gonna take this nice and slow. See if we can’t loosen up that gorgeous ass a little bit.”
“I can’t possibly express how unappealing that last part sounds.”
Zach grins, his fingers lightly kneading Chris’ sac. “There’s that positive attitude.”
“Just shut up and stick your fingers in m-” is as far as Chris makes it before Zach does start to work a finger in him and his voice shoots up an octave or so. “-EEEEEEEeeeeeeee.”
“Pace yourself, sweetheart, I’m barely up to the second knuckle,” Zach says with an honest-to-god giggle.
“Excellent. I’m your finger puppet and you’re fucking giggling.”
“Finger puppet,” Zach repeats with a snort, wiggling said finger around. “You’re too fucking adorable.”
Chris opens his mouth to protest, but it seems Zach is developing this annoying habit of making Chris go out of his mind whenever Chris tries to come up with a really clever retort. Zach is currently mouthing enthusiastically at the head of Chris’ cock and pumping his finger in and out and just like that, Chris forgets what irked him in the first place. He flexes his abs just enough to rock slightly between Zach’s mouth and his finger, getting used to the feeling of fullness.
Zach pulls off Chris’ cock with a slurp and says, “Gonna go for two now.” When he pulls out and Chris feels the tips of two fingers press at his entrance, his muscles seize up again. One finger was just sort of a weird intrusion, but two sets off some kind of Heterosexual Alarm. Warning: Straightness Failure. Gayness Imminent. Seal All Entrances and Exits. Chris fumbles about for the override switch. Mostly metaphorically.
“Wow, you are crazy overthinking this,” Zach says, rubbing wet fingers firmly around Chris’ hole.
“Then make. Me. Stop. Thinking,” Chris grits out.
“Try to push out,” Zach says, then dips his head and does something to the head of Chris’ cock with the point of his tongue that distracts Chris long enough to press his fingers past that first ring of muscle. Then Chris clamps down again instinctively and Zach yelps, “I said push out, dammit!”
Chris shuts his eyes and focuses all his energy on remaining relaxed and open, and it must work, because he feels Zach’s fingers sinking deeper. “Good,” Zach says, rubbing Chris’ thigh with his free hand. “Ohhh, that’s good. Gonna feel so good around my dick.”
Before Chris can start to worry about the dick, Zach twists his fingers a little and fuck, does that feel strange. Not bad, but utterly bizarre. He reaches up with a shaky hand and grabs Zach by the back of the neck, yanking him down for a kiss. Their noses smash together at first, but then Zach regains his balance and things really get good. Chris is so busy fluttering his tongue against Zach’s that he barely notices when Zach’s fingers start to spread a little, scissoring to stretch him. He does notice, however, when those fingers graze something inside him that feels like an electrical storm in his nervous system and makes his left leg jerk hard enough to knee Zach in the ribs.
“Son of a bitch,” Zach wheezes. “I do something nice for you and you try to kill me.”
Chris ignores the jab and claws mindlessly at Zach’s shoulders. “Again. Fuck, do that again.”
“For another finger, I will,” Zach says and Chris nods spastically. He’ll let Zach shove a toaster oven up there if it hits that spot again.
Then Zach’s ring finger eases in and the toaster oven seems hyperbolically ambitious. It burns this time, even as open as Chris is, and a pathetic little whimper escapes his lips before he can help it. Zach’s eyes go all soft and he’s up by Chris’ face in an instant, kissing at the corner of his mouth and cooing, “Hey, it’s alright. Breathe through it.”
At first he thinks Zach’s messing with him, but it becomes apparent that any sign of actual pain from Chris brings out Zach’s tender side. Mortified, Chris turns his head to bury his face against his arm until the burn subsides enough for him to rock down against Zach’s fingers and growl, “You gonna fuck me, Quinto, or what?”
Zach grunts and starts to slowly pump his hand again, biting at Chris’ neck where clothing definitely won’t cover it up. Chris twists against him, trying to get Zach’s fingers where he wants them. “Nope,” Zach says, spreading his fingers a little on the outstroke. “Gotta ask nicely.”
“Really?” Chris asks, still writhing. “You’re gonna start that?”
Zach’s grin is nothing short of evil. “You’re so pretty when you squirm.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not until I hear the magic word!”
Chris bites his lip. It’s not that he’s got a ton of pride riding on this, but the longer he holds out, the more intense Zach gets. And it’s just kind of fun to see how far he can push him. Zach stares him down, fingers deftly avoiding that one spot by millimeters. Finally Chris breaks. “Please. Fuck it, please Zach, do it.”
And holy shit, does Zach do it. His fingers find that spot again immediately, grazing over it with deliberate lightness to make Chris gasp and thrash. Zach increases the pressure bit by agonizing bit until Chris is almost out of his mind, his head thrown back and his words long since degenerated into stuttered syllables. The pleasure is so sharp and urgent it’s almost pain, and it just builds and builds without release. If Zach would just touch his cock, just give him a single good stroke, Chris would come so fast and so hard. He can’t touch himself - it would be cheating, somehow, and he knows Zach would never let him live it down. God, he’s so close he can practically taste it, his climax hovering just out of reach. He clamps his eyes shut and lets his legs fall open, rocking down a little harder, just a little harder, just a little more is all he needs-
“Jesus,” Zach groans and Chris snaps his head up to look at him, brown eyes shot completely black and mouth hanging open to pant nearly in sync with Chris. “Holy shit, look at you. You’re the most depraved thing I’ve ever seen - a few fingers and you’re panting like a whore. You close?”
Chris nods, trying to remember to be offended about the whore comment sometime after Zach has let him come.
“Fuck, if I weren’t about to explode, I’d see if I could finish you off just like this. You want that?”
Chris shakes his head frantically, flinging drops of sweat across the pillow.
“You want my cock?”
Another breathless nod.
“You ready for it?”
Chris summons up enough indignation to growl, because of all the fucking questions to ask at a time like this. When Zach carefully slides his fingers out, Chris whines at the sudden emptiness. It’s enough to make his arms flail helplessly against the bed, and it takes him a second to coordinate his brain and eyes enough to figure out what exactly Zach is doing that does not involve fucking Chris into the mattress.
Oh, condom, right. Still, the flailing doesn’t stop until Zach kneels over him and actually pins his arms down. Then Zach is pushing into him none too gently, rocking into him bit by bit, and even the thick, deep burn of it is good, is right. Without the constant stimulation of his prostate, Chris can think again. He brings one leg up to wrap around Zach’s hip, pulling him in deeper and earning a “Fuck, yes” from Zach.
The actual fucking is chaotic, feverish: Zach shoves with his hips and Chris’ hands drag down Zach’s shoulders. Chris bites at anything he can reach and Zach’s fingers leave bruises all over Chris’ thighs and ass. When the head of his cock rams into Chris’ sweet spot again, he helpfully lets Zach know by wailing and hammering on his back until Zach does it again, and again, and again, and with the friction of Zach’s abs against his hypersensitive cock, Chris is coming, wrapping around Zach until the other man shouts and pounds his own orgasm into Chris’ body.
In the aftermath, their limbs stick together with sweat and peel apart with a strange popping noise. Chris groans, feeling every bruise he’s going to have the next morning. He feels well and truly fucked, sweaty and sore and fantastically filthy, trying to enjoy every second of it before the adrenaline wears off and it turns into real pain. Next to him, Zach is carefully stretching out his abused joints and Chris swings out a hand to pull them together.
It’s hardly a kiss - mostly just lips mashed together, eyes not even closed - but it’s good to feel Zach’s ragged breath against his face, see the lingering desire in his eyes. “Goddamn,” Zach groans, “you never do anything by half measures, do you?”
Like it’s Chris’ fault Zach just fucked him like a jackhammer for his first time. Well, maybe it is, just a little bit, but he’s still got that whore comment to atone for. Chris looks Zach right in the eye and cups a hand to his cheek. “Mmm, you’re amazing in the sack. I don’t care what anybody says.”
“Thank y- Wait, who says? What do they say?”
Chris just rolls over and snuggles his back against Zach’s front, closing his eyes and smiling.