FIC: ST RPS -- Turnabout Intruder in My Pants (7/7)

[the_deep_magic]

Title: Turnabout Intruder in My Pants (7/7)
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,246
Warnings: crack, overused fandom trope, angst --> sap
Disclaimer: so very, very untrue
Summary: bodyswap!fic
A/N: Stay tuned for an epilogue!

Monday / Tuesday / Wednesday / Thursday / Friday / Saturday

Sunday

Chris is trying very hard to roll over, but something is trying very hard to stop him.

“Mmrgmph,” the thing says.

Chris tries again, this time leading with his elbow.  The thing definitely does not like that, because it says a recognizable, “Ow, the fuck?”

And it says it in Chris’ voice.

That slams Chris immediately into wakefulness as he yanks up the sheet to look down at the body beneath it.  Still not his.  “Goddamn it.”

The thing, which is kind of obviously Zach now, says, “It didn’t work?”

“No, it didn’t work.”  Chris scoots back before he rolls over, and this time he manages it.  Unfortunately.  “And fuck, am I sore.”

“Uh, yeah,” Zach says, his cheeks flushing.  “That happened.”

“Arrgh, I can’t believe we did that!” Chris moans.  “I let you fuck me.  In the ass.  And we’re still stuck here.  I let you fuck me in the ass!  That should have worked.  I was so sure that was going to work.  What the fuck.”

But suddenly Zach isn’t blushing anymore.  Chris sees that his face has gone pale as Zach stares right at him.  Chris figures it’s the whole I’m-looking-at-my-own-bedhead thing, but Zach looks distinctly humorless as he turns and pushes up from the bed.  “Alright, I’m going to go shower.  I’ll try to think of other solutions.  Ones that don’t involve… doing what we did.”

The curt, clipped tone in which he says it takes Chris by surprise.  “Yeah, uh, okay,” Chris says, watching his body retreat into the bathroom.  Okay, he does have kind of a nice ass.  Quite a nice ass.  Maybe while they’re still switched, Zach will let him-

No.  He can’t think like that.

But why not?  They might be stuck in these bodies for quite a while (he still refuses to think the word “permanently” - he’s an optimist, goddammit), so why not get to know what it feels like from the other side.  Despite the lingering soreness and the growing itch from the dried lube between his thighs - why did he let Zach have first shower? - last night had been good.  Really, really good.  He’d never thought he’d be the kind of guy to enjoy having a cock in his ass, even if he were gay, but now he sort of is, and he just found out he really does.  Zach’s cock, at least.  Or a cock controlled by Zach, rather, even if it actually belongs to Chris.

Fuck, Chris can feel a headache coming on.

Though he can hear the shower running in the next room, Chris feels like Zach is much too far away.  Last night’s closeness, both during the fucking and after, that had felt amazing, almost necessary.  Chris isn’t sure he’s ever felt anything like it, certainly not with any girl he’s ever been with.

So fuck it, he’s joining Zach in the shower.  It’s a tiny little cubicle thing, but they’d been much closer last night, so it’s actually a bit of an exciting thought.  If he can manage to clean out his ass without elbowing Zach in the face.  That would probably kill the mood.

The mirror is already blurred with steam when he enters the bathroom, so he can’t see Zach’s face staring back at him - probably a good thing, though he’s getting more and more used to the image.  “Mind if I join you?” he asks the cloud of steam emanating from behind the curtain.  “I’m covered in various types of dried fluids and it’s… unpleasant.”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

“I’m cool with sharing,” Chris says, pulling back the shower curtain and stepping in.  Zach pulls out of the way as much as he can, which is not very much.  He’s all flushed and soapy and wet and… yeah, okay, it’s kind of weird for Chris to be thinking, but he’s totally hot like this.  Chris smiles.  “I’d offer to wash your back, but I think you’ve already got it.”

“No, yeah, I was just rinsing off,” Zach says, edging beside Chris to get under the spray.  He moves so quickly that Chris barely has a chance to touch him before Zach says, “Okay, all yours” and ducks out.

Chris pokes his head out.  “You sure you’re done?”

Zach has already grabbed a towel and is drying off.  “Yeah.  Doesn’t take me long, especially now that I don’t have to worry so much about my hair.”

“Hey, I should be offended by that,” Chris mutters, but Zach doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I’m gonna… I don’t know, Google some more stuff, see if we missed anything,” Zach says, and then he’s out the door.

Chris sighs and goes back in the shower cubicle.  Yeah, maybe playing grab-ass in here is better in imagination than reality - it is really small.  So Chris frowns and looks at the array of bath products Zach has miraculously managed to cram into the tiny space.  He looks for a bottle he hasn’t yet sampled and goes for it.  Surely he could stand some volumizing.  Somewhere.

&&&

It’s hard for two people to avoid each other in a tiny New York apartment, but somehow Chris and Zach manage it.  Or rather, Zach manages it, and Chris tries not to follow him around like a needy puppy.  Zach is almost icily polite to Chris, asking him what he wants for lunch and offering to go out and pick something up.

It literally has Chris scratching his head (maybe the volumizer wasn’t the best choice).  What did he do?  He’d been under the impression that the sex had been as good for Zach as it had for him.  Sure, they didn’t exactly have a heart-to-heart afterwards, but did guys even do that?  And there had been cuddling - some very nice cuddling, though Chris sadly hadn’t stayed awake very long to enjoy it.

Chris just figures it’s the fact that they still haven’t gotten things back to normal.  After all, Chris hadn’t exactly been happy to wake up in Zach’s body either.  Still, Zach’s reaction seemed a little… extreme.  It’s got to be this damn play.  Ugh, what shitty timing for Zach.

But the Thai food that Zach brings back is good (from a place Chris hadn’t known about or he’d have been sneaking in there every night in a hoodie and sunglasses) and the relish with which Chris eats it seems to relax Zach somewhat.   They still don’t exactly manage to have a conversation, but Zach starts looking Chris in the eye again, so that’s something.

It’s late in the afternoon when the phone rings, and Chris still has to stifle the urge to pick it up.  A ringing phone is hard to ignore, even after a week.

“You haven’t been answering my calls, have you?” Zach asks warily.

“No, of course not.  Though occasionally I’ve been tempted to-”

The answering machine finally clicks on and Chris hears the familiar “Hey, it’s Zach.  If you need further instructions, you probably shouldn’t be operating a telephone.” BEEP.  And then…

“Zach, it’s Cody.  It’s been more than a week.  Why aren’t you returning my calls?  I’m worried about you, baby.  I miss your hot mouth, your big dick.  I might have to come over there so we can-”

And that is it; Chris has his limits, and Cody has breached them.  In many, many ways.  Before Zach can stop him, Chris grabs the phone and picks it up.  “Cody, baby…” he practically purrs into the mouthpiece.

And nearly bursts out laughing at the look on Zach’s face.  He has to simultaneously evade Zach’s lunge at the phone and listen to Cody stutter haplessly on the other end of the line - he obviously wasn’t expecting Zach to actually pick up.

Chris waves Zach off, mouthing an I’ve got this.  Zach does not look like he believes Chris, but what can he do?  “Listen, sweetheart,” Chris says, mimicking Zach’s sexy voice, “what we had was special.  You were great.  I enjoyed every minute of it.   But did I make any promises to you?”

“Did you-?” Cody starts to repeat, baffled.  “I... no?”

“Did we make any plans for future hookups?”

“No?”

“You’re two for two, babe.”  Chris can count the number of times he’s heard Zach use this voice -low, winking, dark as chocolate fudge - on one hand, but he always did have a gift for imitation, so he pours it on thick.  “It’s my fault - I should’ve told you, I’ve got a man.”

Off to the side, Zach flaps his arms and mouths WHAT?

But Chris just goes on.  “We have an open thing, but I always come back to him.  No matter how sweet the temptation.  And make no mistake, you were very, very… sweet.”

Zach is now frozen in place with jaw on the floor as Cody babbles, “Th-thank you?”  Jesus, can this kid say anything that doesn’t come out as a question?

“Never gonna forget your body, baby.  But we were both meant to move on.  Find yourself someone who can appreciate that luscious ass on a regular basis.  It just can’t be me.  So the phone calls need to stop.  Okay, babe?”

“Okay.”  Finally, a definitive statement.

“Great.  Take care of your fine self, Code.  Bye.”

Chris hangs up.

He turns to Zach, who is not moving a muscle save for something in his forehead that is twitching spastically.  “See?  That’s all you had to do.”

Zach breathes in deep, and Chris braces himself for the Almighty Wrath of the Quinto.  But what he gets instead is the loudest, braying donkey laugh in Chris’ repertoire, and okay, it’s kind of annoying, but it isn’t Chris’ own hands around his throat, so that’s something.

“You just…” Zach wheezes out.  “Luscious ass?”

“I had to make some assumptions,” Chris says, trying to be deadpan but cracking almost immediately.

“Code?”

“I couldn’t help myself!  I’d already said ‘babe’ about twelve thousand times by then!”

And now Zach is giggling so hard he has to grab on to a chair to keep himself upright.  “I can’t fucking believe you just did that!  I can’t fucking believe I sound like that!”

“Only when you’re trying really hard to get laid,” Chris says between cackles.  “Or, y’know, unlaid, as the case may be.”

“Do you think he’s going to call back?”

“Would you?”

“Never.  I would realize that I’m a mental patient and steer very, very clear of me, no matter how sw-weet-”  Zach can hardly get the words out, he’s gasping so hard with laughter.  “The temptation!”

&&&

Whatever stick had been up Zach’s ass that morning had been removed by Chris’ conversation with Cody.  They laughed themselves sick - Chris actually thought he was going to lose some of that delicious Thai food - and ended up crawling to the bedroom, where they’re now sitting next to each other, backs against the foot of the bed.

They’re silent for a long while, first getting their breath back, and then just… being.  It used to be that even when Chris closed his eyes, he could still tell that something was off, that he was poured into the wrong container.  But now when he shuts his eyes, he feels nothing but peace, despite the fact that exactly none of their problems have been solved.  And a sore ass, because… yeah.

He winces, trying to put more weight on his right butt cheek, when out of nowhere Zach says, “I reread the Jack Ryan script, and with that new writer they brought in?  It’s not half bad.”

It shouldn’t matter what Zach thinks of Chris’ career - after all, he’s seen some of Zach’s little projects, and Zach has no room to judge - but for some reason, it does.  “Uh, thanks, man.  You really liked it?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not No Country for Old Men, but it’s got some real weight to it now.”

“So you would give a shit if Jack Ryan got killed with a bolt gun?”

“Oh, I might even give two shits.”

Chris laughs, adjusting his position again.  “Movie reviews with Zach Quinto:  two shits up!”

“I could have a whole new career,” Zach says, and suddenly the mood in the room changes.  Because if nothing happens soon, they’re both going to have to have new careers.  Chris obviously can’t do Angels; that much is certain.  And his backing out of the play won’t be good for “Zachary Quinto” and his career.   “Chris Pine” is in a little better shape, but Zach’s missed some of the prep work for This Means War, and someone’s bound to notice that “Chris” is suddenly a different actor with a completely different approach to the craft.

“I’ll… Well, you’ll call Michael tomorrow,” Zach says, his voice stiff.  “Give Eric the whole day to rehearse before he has to go on on Tuesday.  You may even need to go down to the theater - that’s not going to be pleasant.”

“Okay,” Chris says tentatively.  “But let’s… let’s not even think about that right now.  We’ve still got a day, and we’ve gone over everything we can think of.  Twice.  ‘The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of other things.’”

The corner of Zach’s mouth twitches up in what might almost be a smile.  “You got any suggestions, other than cabbages and kings?”

“Yeah, how about this: damn it, Zach, are you always this sore after you bottom?”

“If I haven’t bottomed in a while, then yeah.  And I haven’t.”  All of a sudden that iciness is creeping back into Zach’s voice, and Chris’ll be damned if he has to deal with stick-up-his-ass Zach again.

“It was really fucking good, though,” Chris admits.  “So much better than I thought it would be.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I trusted you and all, but I had my doubts.  But ho-ly fuck.  That prostate thing?  That is some high-quality hotness.”

“Wait, so…”  Zach sounds so befuddled that Chris has to turn and look at him.  “You’re okay with it?”

“Uh, were you paying attention to the part where I screamed?  You are a total fucking stud.  I will no longer mock your capabilities in the sack.”

“But… this morning.”

“What about this morning?”

Zach’s eyes are narrowed in confusion.  “Chris, you were disgusted this morning.  You saw me in bed with you and it was, like, I was your worst drunken hookup of all time.  Times twelve.”

“I… what?”  Chris tries to replay the events of the morning in his head.  “Oh, shit, no.  I just was hoping so hard to wake up in my own body.  When I saw myself instead of you it was just… such a letdown.  It wasn’t because it was you.  It… Jesus, if you think I’d let anybody else do that to me…  Not that it’s a repulsive thing or anything, but it’s just so… intimate.  You said it yourself - you only bottom for guys you trust, guys you know can do it right.”

“So…” Zach says slowly, “it wasn’t because it was a guy?  Because it was me?”

“Jesus, that’s why you treated me like shit all morning?  No, Zach, please inform your delicate ego that my disappointment upon waking was solely the product of not being in my own fucking body.  You’d think I’d have gotten used to it by now, but it seems that I haven’t.”

“Hey, what was I supposed to think?  It was your first time with a guy.  And I’ve had that happen before, the morning after ‘the first time with a guy.’  I know the look.”

Maybe it’s Chris’ blue eyes, but Zach really does look a little fragile at the moment, and Chris feels bad.  “I’m sorry.  I… fuck, I don’t know what it means.  What any of this means.  If it’s because you’re in my body, and I wanted my body in your body, or your body is affecting my mind and what I want.  I just know that it felt good.  And it was weird, not half because I was staring at a pillow the whole time.”

“Hey, at least you weren’t staring at the back of your own head,” Zach chuckles.  “That was pretty fucked up.”

Yeah, Chris had thought about that after his realization that he might like to try topping - he doesn’t think he could do it like this.  But what they had before, that closeness, there might be another way…  “Hey, Zach, I have an idea.”

“Is it, like, a fix-it idea or a distraction idea?”

“Distraction, sorry.”

Zach shrugs.  “That’s alright.  Your fix-it ideas do tend to end in pain.”

“Yeah, for me.”  Chris hops up off the floor the best he can, then holds a hand out to Zach.  “Do you trust me?”

“Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have asked you that last night.  I knew it would come back around to bite me on the ass.”

Chris laughs, pulling Zach to his feet.  “It’s not that bad, trust me.  And you’re free to say no at any time if this is too weird.”

“Oh god, it’s gonna be weird?”

“Well, compared to everything else over the past week?  Not really.  Only compared to what is widely acknowledged as reality, and that’s been in the rearview mirror since Monday.  Come on.”  Chris drags Zach to his closet, to the full-length mirror attached to the door.

“Here,” Chris says, positioning Zach in front of the mirror and coming up behind him.  “Just…”  He reaches down to the hem of Zach’s shirt and lifts up.  Zach’s face in the mirror registers confusion, but he lifts his arms obediently and lets Chris pull the garment off.   “And then I’ll…”  Chris takes just enough of a step back for room to pull of his own shirt.

“Chris,” Zach says uneasily, “I don’t know about this.”

“Well, let me do something before you veto it.  Pants off, too.”

“I think ‘pants off’ counts as ‘something,’” Zach grumbles, but he complies.  Underwear, too, as Chris has.

Chris positions them both in front of the mirror again, putting Zach directly in front of him, but Zach flushes and turns his head.  “Chris…”

“No, look.  It’s okay,” Chris says, setting a hand on his own hip and massaging the flesh gently.  “That’s the idea.”

“What is?”

“You want to look, right?  And I’m guessing you haven’t, or you’ve felt guilty about it doing it.  I know I have.  So I’m giving you permission.  Look all you want.”

“Does your ego know no bounds, Christopher?” Zach says, but he says it softly, without venom.

And then he looks.

He starts with Chris’ eyes, staring into them nervously.  Chris watches in the mirror as Zach slowly loses the fight with himself to look lower.  Chris wraps his arms around Zach and, in one of the weirdest moments of his life (so far), caresses his own belly.  Zach makes a soft, desperate sound, and Chris sees his cock start to rise.

“It’s okay,” Chris whispers, and it is.  The fact that Zach wants him…  He’s gone through the weirdness - the sex pretty much rendered that moot - and come out the other side and what he’s left with is the fact that his friend, his (if he’s completely honest) attractive, smart as hell, sexy friend wants him.  And Chris is almost surprised that he’s not surprised that he wants Zach, too.  Wants to give his body to Zach this way - not a faceless fuck (as much fun as that had been), but this.

“Give me your hand,” Chris says, and without looking away, he begins to jerk his own cock, using both of their hands.

Chris can’t directly feel how hard he’s getting in Zach’s hand, but he definitely enjoys the way Zach manually appreciates his cock.  Apparently, Zach’s spent a bit of time getting to know this part of Chris’ anatomy, but not so much time that Chris can’t surprise him with a twist here and a squeeze there.

“Let me?” Chris asks, and Zach’s hand falls away quickly, letting Chris stroke and pull at his own rock-hard erection with one hand while his other plays with his balls.  It’s distinctly odd, the motions of jerking off without the sensations, but Chris assumes every other gay guy on the planet has figured this out, so he can, too.  Not to mention the fact that he’s got a distinct advantage in knowing that when he rubs behind the sac, Zach’s not going to be able to stop Chris’ knees from buckling, at least a little.  And he’s ready when his hips start to thrust, slightly out of Zach’s control, fucking Chris’ cock into his fist.

It’s not that Chris is trying to get Zach off as fast as possible, but after last night, the way Zach fucked him mercilessly into bliss, Chris figures turnabout is fair play.  His cock is dripping wet in his hands, and he can tell from the way Zach starts to tremble in his arms that he’s close.

So he’s shocked when Zach grabs his hand to stop him.  “No, wait.”

Chris looks up into the mirror and is surprised to see his own pupils are blown as wide as Zach’s.  Come to think of it, he’s pretty hard himself.  He releases Zach to consider this new development, and Zach turns them to face each other, head tucked close to Chris’, and looks down.  Pretty sure where Zach’s going with this, Chris does the same, shuffling their bodies closer together so they can each get a hand around both their cocks.

When they begin to stroke in unison, Chris is surprised how close he already is, and the extra little pinch Zach gives his nipples with his other hand doesn’t hurt.  Looking down like this, huddled together, it’s nearly impossible to tell whose cock is whose, there’s just pleasure, the satisfying grip of another’s hand.

Not just any other, but Zach.  Zach who flew all the way across the country for him.  Zach who wants him and is man enough to admit it.  Despite all that’s happened, despite all that’s going to happen, he can’t think of any place he’d rather be.  He loves this.  He loves being with Zach.  He loves…

Suddenly, Chris can’t hold back anymore.  He gets out “Zach, I’m gonna-” just as Zach lets out a long moan and Chris crushes their bodies together as they come, thrusting into their combined hands.  Chris squeezes his eyes shut with the force of it, feeling like he’s been knocked clean off his feet, bucking and shuddering mindlessly.  He can’t remember the last time he came this hard, not even last night.

He comes to pressed tightly against Zach, and without moving, lays a kiss against the warm shoulder beneath his lips.  The shoulder that, as he pulls back to look… isn’t his.

“Zach!” he gasps, and it’s in his own voice.  He lifts his free hand - it’s really his again, complete with the little scar from that broken light bulb when he was seven.  He and Zach pull apart to look at each other - and then immediately throw their arms back around each other.

“Chris, it worked!” Zach all but shouts, and Chris has never been happier to hear Zach’s voice in his whole life.  He gets a quick look in the mirror over Zach’s shoulder and it’s his own face looking back at him.  And that should maybe be the most important thing at the moment, but it’s sort of secondary.

“Zach, I hate to question it, I really do, but… what worked?”

Zach takes a small step back, and Chris immediately misses the closeness.  “Well, it can’t have been the sex,” Zach says softly, suspiciously.  “We kinda covered that last night.”

Chris bites his lip, happy to feel the familiar fullness under his teeth, and doesn’t miss the way Zach’s eyes are drawn to his mouth.  “Zach, what were you thinking, just before…  Before?”

Zach goes red, his eyes dropping to the ground, and Chris knows exactly what Corey was talking about: the final cause.  He goes to Zach, lifts his hand (his hand) to tilt Zach’s chin up and look into his eyes.  “Me, too, Zach.  Me, too.”

“So…” Zach starts, looking more vulnerable than Chris can ever remember seeing him.  “I don’t want to…  But what does this…  You’re back in your body, Chris.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, but I was always…”

“Oh,” Chris says, the pieces falling into place.  “The gay thing?”

The flush in Zach’s cheeks, which had started to recede, returned in full force.  “To put it delicately, yes.”

“Well…” Chris says, treading carefully.  “I don’t know.”

“Are you still… attracted to me?  Sexually?”

That’s when it hits Chris that they’re both still naked, each other’s cum drying on their hands and bellies.  And that… kind of turns Chris on.  “I… I am.  Yeah.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Zach says, his voice strengthening.  “You’d be okay with me fucking you.”

“If it’s like last night?  Hell yeah.”

“How about sucking my cock?  Because that’s not optional.”

“I, uh…”  Chris thinks about it.  It’s a bit of a weird thought, but also kind of hot.  Him crawling over Zach’s prone body, Zach writhing under the power of his mouth.  “I think I could get into that.”

A smile starts to curl at the edge of Zach’s lips, one that Chris was never able to replicate.  “I do seem to remember you expressing an affinity for all-beef franks.”