For the_deep_magic by lousy_science
Title: Love Is Like a Bottle of Gin (But A Bottle of Gin Is Not Like Love)
Author: lousy_science
Giftee: the_deep_magic
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Pinto
Word Count: 4K
Summary: Prompt was: "So maybe since Heroes everyone Zach sleeps with expects him to be Sylar in bed -- an aggressive, dominating top -- when really he either prefers to bottom or just likes it slow and sensual (or both). He complains to Chris, expecting maybe a little sympathy and not much else, but Chris goes ahead and indulges him... in bed. (If author doesn’t want to write porn, romance is fine instead! Chris can be the one to court Zach.)"
Note:Title from the Magnetic Fields song. I'm unsure how much justice I did to the prompt, but I hope you don't mind the result too much. It's unbeta'd, my apologies in advance for any errors. Hope you like it BB - you're a terrific author & make fandom a more awesome place. Happy holidays.
MOD NOTE: Santa pointed out that I forgot to include this second fill for their giftee. Apologies all around!
It was all over for Zach once the first drink had been poured.
Chris had brought around gin for their reunion. Gin and a packet of Dutch cinnamon biscuits.
“I saw them in the market, thought, Man, I haven’t had these in years.”
Chris had burst through his front door with a deli bag and loads of explanations, hollered at Zach to set up the Scrabble and have a cookie while he got the drinks sorted. He’d held the bottle of Bombay Sapphire aloft and waved it at Zach like it was an Oscar.
Fucking gin. Gin was Zach’s kryptonite, the Joker to his Batman, the Ariel to his Ursula, the Taylor Swift to his Kanye. He hadn’t touched it since 2002 and a particularly nasty night out. Gin got him emo as fuck, cry-and-quote-the-Smiths emo, call-up-his-ex-and-leave-weeping-voicemails emo.
But Chris had already gotten busy in the kitchen making them what he swore was “David Niven’s own recipe, it’s gonna knock you on your ass Quinto. God, it’s good to see you. I’ve been hanging with people who drink like goddamn fifteen year olds. Seriously, who orders Red Bull, Coke and vodka with a straight face?”
“Please tell me that was Anton.”
“Nah, man, though that is a helluva image, just this guy Derrick that John somehow knows. Not a bad guy, but really, well. Giggly.”
“Pot, meet kettle,”
“The hell you say!”
Chris had emerged with a glass in each hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.
Zach’s heart sank a little at the drinks, but Chris was so eager. So Zach made a personal resolution. There was nothing Madame Geneva could dish out that could harsh his buzz at having Chris back in the same time zone. He could just filter the negative stuff out with focussed thinking, deep breathing, and handfuls of cookies. Chris was here, and that would be his anchor.
Chris, who was arranging their drinks on the coffee table and muttering something about getting the snacks. Who told Zach to sit down and that he’d be right back, running back and forth from the kitchen like an overgrown puppy. Chris. Here, in his house. At last.
Noah raised his head from his paws and gave Zach a knowing look.
“Shhh, you. Dreams are free.”
“The important thing is rhythm!”
Zach whipped his head around. Chris was back again, with dishes of peanuts and cheese cut into cubes. Into cubes. This crush of Zach’s was going to be nigh-on impossible to beat down. Not that he was trying particularly hard right now.
“Always have rhythm in your shaking! That’s William Powell, by the way.”
Zach tipped his chin up at Chris, and patted the couch next to him.
“Be my Myrna Loy?”
Chris’s laugh rang out, clear and loud and joyful. Zach sipped his martini and almost spilt it with surprise when Chris sat down just where his hand had been, leaving little space between the two of them. Or none, as Chris pivoted around so that he was leaning on Zach, his legs up on the far arm of the couch.
Zach wanted to wind his arm around him.
Zach needed to be drinking something far less potent than these martinis.
“It’s been ages, Z, how many months since I saw you?”
Four and a half. Zach swallowed a large gulp of liquid. Four and a half and he had been convinced that his utterly inappropriate crush was extinguished.
“A while. Life’s busy for a gangster, you should know that. Happy birthday, Captain, by the way.”
“God yeah, that happened.”
“How does it feel? You eating dinner at five, in bed by eight, watching repeat episodes of Matlock yet?”
“I’ve decided to take you as a model of a respectable elder gent, Zach, with your notoriously sedate lifestyle.”
Chris settled back against the couch, one arm wound behind his head, continuing.
“Can you recommend a good guy to install a dungeon for me? Or should I just hire out a specially-equipped van?”
“A van? Jesus, Pine, are you watching serial killer documentaries on the Discovery channel or what?”
“No, but I did read something on Alt.com which gave me some ideas,”
He moved his head back against Zach and looked up at him, wriggling his eyebrows. Zach rolled his eyes in response.
“Just do that brow trick some more, bound to get the ladies worked up. Especially those who are hot for Danny DeVito. Drink your drink.”
Chris slurped his martini appreciatively.
“You know I’m bi though, right? I mean, that is established, even if I am not the Sex Apollo of LA like a certain someone is, with every fucking twink in Christendom sticking up a Sylar poster on their wall - most of the lesbians, too, would fuck you in a heartbeat, my friend Nia keeps begging me to hook her up, something about a strap-on but I’m all like, guuuurl, this is Zachary Quinto here, the man does not need nor care for your strap on.”
Zach’s brain was ringing like a series of car alarms. There had been something very important in what Chris had just said, but hell if he could parse it out.
“Christopher, are you on drugs? Are there amphetamines in the peanut bowl? A strap-on, for the love of…”
“Wait, is that a resigned sigh of oh hell no or one of, maybe if I’m bored and my regular Monday afternoon orgy is cancelled?”
“Pine, listen, despite whatever the hell you have been hearing - and I am aware of at least some of the rumours - my life is not an endless whirl of kink.”
“Shyeah right,”
“Yeah right, actually. Can we get back to this bi thing? This dungeon thing? Are you hellbent on some sort of Rick James shenanigans now that you’re thirty?”
Chris twisted in his seat.
“You sound….sincere.”
“About keeping you off of the crack pipe and TMZ? Yes. Kind of.”
“Those aren’t the pipes I’m talking about smoking. No crazy orgies? No dungeon? I totally had you picked as a dungeon master.”
“The fuck did you get this slang from, Robert E. Howard?”
Zach wanted to squirm, but he had Chris half-draped over him, so he decided to try and change the subject.
“What are you working on next?”
“That is a pretty pathetic attempt to change the subject.”
Zach really did squirm this time, and drained his martini glass.
Eventually he convinced Chris to get out the Scrabble board, which he insisted on accompanying with another round of Martinis.
They talked the usual mix, books read, acting method bullshit - something they mutually acknowledged the pretention of but both utterly loved - school memories, gossip about the Trek crew, and politics. Chris continued to be wonderfully well-versed in every damn thing under the sun. Zach could feel the familiar melancholia brought on by the drinks tugging at him, but only a little. He was with his friend, he was stable, he had just scored a triple-word-score with ‘zygote’, Noah was asleep at their feet. Everything was fine. He even held out his glass for another top-up during the inevitable next round.
Then Chris did something terrible. He brought it up again.
“Sorry about earlier, the sex stuff. I genuinely thought you would be the guy to ask.”
“You and everybody’s filthy old uncle. Once Heroes went out, suddenly I was in demand, but as a person I just wasn’t capable of being. Everyone expected me to be the top of tops. I spent too long fighting myself over who I am, and I’m just not willing to change that so someone can get off on having a sadistic psychopath in their bedroom. No matter how cute you - they are.”
“That happened?”
“Still happens, a few relationships have shipwrecked on it, would you believe? Maybe it’s not just that, maybe it’s all this - this life we lead, the itinerant nature of it, but part of me wants to believe in something stable. Don’t give me that look, you’re worse than Noah.”
“It’s just that, I don’t know, you don’t seem like a cruel guy, I can’t believe that people would want you to hurt them,”
“Go figure people. Being comfortable in your own skin seems to unsettle those who aren’t, I find. God, does that sound arrogant or what?”
“No, no I get you. But Zach, you know that’s the single most attractive thing about you. That and your legs.”
“My - what are we talking about here?”
Zach shook his head to try and clear it. Perhaps this was all Chris’s plan to try and psych him out from his Scrabble game. Good luck, he had a ‘quizzes’ all ready to go.
“What happened, with the last one?”
This guy’s nickname really should be Relentless. He never let up with questions, on set or off.
“Put your word down and I’ll tell you.”
That half-grin, half-smirk flashed at him, and Chris plunked down ‘liquor’ right in the spaces Zach had mentally reserved.
“You rat bastard. Fine, the last guy I was with, Adrian? He wanted to be tied up, fairly standard issue stuff, whatever, it was kind of hot to have him so into it, but then he came at me with this sex Olympics laundry list - texted it to me, no less, I picked up my phone hoping for a nice ‘Thinking of you’ or even like, ‘Pick up some milk babe’, you know,”
Zach watched Chris’s face carefully during his revelation, not drunk enough not to watch for hints of mockery in his expression. But he looked open and sincere. His incredible eyes were soft and thoughtful as they held Zach’s glare. Zach was drunk enough to ignore the warning sirens blaring at the back of his head and carried on unloading. It’d been months since he last saw Adrian, but he was still a little upset, apparently.
“It’s just looking up at me, this list, like, ‘Breathplay, knives, golden showers, felching, barebacking, creampie’ - like I was sex Google or something. I mean, if people want that, cool, play safe and happy, but I just stared at my phone and thought, what happened to Sunday afternoon slow screwing on top of the newspapers? What about like, making out for hours on a hillside?”
“A hillside? Did you just specify a hillside?”
“Stop it! Don’t laugh, I did that once with this guy Jacob when we were fifteen, one of the best afternoons of my life. I wasn’t even in love with the guy. It was being in love with being in love. And yes, we were in the school musical together, before you start.”
“So you got Adrian’s bedroom bucket list and had this epiphany?”
“Nice turn of phrase there, Walter Winchell.”
Chris cocked his head to the side, squinting at Zach. He just looked, remaining silent. Zach really felt his stomach churning with anxiety now. He started blathering to get it all out.
“In love with being in love, the years go past you know, Chris, I just want that more and more, that feeling of being someone’s everything, if only for one night, all the really fine things - acceptance and warmth and nurturing and to be in someone’s arms. That steadiness you can only get when you feel someone’s heartbeat on your skin. It’s worth more than any number of fucking dungeon visits, for me at least.”
Chris’s voice was soft in reply.
“And do you get it?”
Zach put down his glass and buried his head in his hands. He was on the verge of sobbing. How can I, when there’s no one in this world I’ve found that wants me back the same way?
He felt Chris pull himself away and shift on the couch. This was so embarrassing, Zach felt his stomach constrict in shame. He just needed to have a big breath of air, get his Scrabble back on and drink some tea. In more or less that order.
The big breath of air whooshed on out of him early, when he felt Chris’s arms wrap around his back. It was an awkward, half-hug, but all the discomfit was on Zach’s side - Chris felt solid and welcoming. Zach was torn between wanting to peer between his fingers in horror or to keep his eyes screwed close and wish for the floor to swallow him up.
Chris hugged with all of his body, his thigh parallel to Zach’s, his arms and torso melding over his bent form like a piece of clothing.
Instead of choosing sanity and pulling away, Zach stretched up a bit and swivelled into Chris’s arms. After all, his Mama always said - if you reject a gift you deny someone the pleasure of giving it to you. Ma never mentioned the gift of guiltily groping Chris Pine, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Zach hoped.
“God, Zach, I’m sorry,”
“Shit, Chris. Don’t even.”
Chris went to pull away, Zach let him go, but he stopped. Daring to look up, he found their faces just a couple of inches apart.
“It wasn’t what I had planned for tonight, upsetting you.”
Zach shook his head gently.
“No, no, just the gin, my own bullshit can wait. We were having fun, and you - you can ask me whatever you want. Always.”
“Really?”
What made Chris sound so eager? What on earth would he want to ask Zach?
Those long fingers were drawing circles on his back. Though they were in an uncomfortable position, they stayed there, leaning into each other’s bodies, clasping at their sides.
Zach was working on the deep breathing thing, when Chris leant forward that much more into his body and caught his earlobe between his teeth. It was hot, warm, a light barely-there movement, but Zach could feel the bottom of his stomach head for the floor. Chris's mouth smoothly moved up to Zach's temple, nuzzling at his hairline, and then those elegant fingers moved up to cradle his face, and Zach's neck was being turned, he was being looked at by Chris with an expression of utter tenderness.
And then Zach was being kissed by Chris Pine.
Chris’s hands were holding Zach’s head with a soft but firm grip, which was good as it stopped Zach from pulling his face back in shock. His mouth seemed to get with the program several heartbeats before Zach’s brain did. His lips opened easy as breathing, letting Chris in to take his sweet time exploring Zach’s tongue and palate. Then slipped away, but not too far, kissing along Zach’s jaw line and up over his cheeks, dotting touches at the side of his nose, the edge of his eyelid, his forehead. It was totally unexpected, and felt amazingly good, to be loved on so thoroughly.
Zach wasn't that slow, he soon had his hands on Chris's back under his shirt, got a palmful of ass. Mouthed at the tender spot under Chris's ear and heard a gratifying moan. They reorganised themselves on the couch for better mutual access, Zach pushed back on the cushions at the mercy of Chris's touches, teeth, tongue, lips, those constantly searching fingers. His legs were spread farther than Zach’s tight jeans would really allow. All the tighter for having Chris’s legs strong and heavy on top of him.
“Too much, Chris, I’ll - I’ll come,”
“OK, not yet,”
Chris moved his hand away from where it had been determinedly rubbing over Zach’s bulge. He backed up and grabbed Zach’s hands. In the back of his mind, Zach thought, this is it, this is when you come to your senses and stop this, but the look on Chris’s face overrode every other option but being led to his bedroom, stopping only for a quick, furious make-out session against the wall. They ripped each other’s shirts off and left them in the hallway.
Once in his bedroom, Chris moved Zach’s hands away when they went to his jeans: “No, let me. C’mon,”
Chris had this humor me look on his face, just gliding over something more serious, more rich with desire. Zach’s arms fell to his sides as Chris stripped him of clothing, slowly, making an art of it. Sitting him down on the bed, a small push to his chest to persuade Zach to lie back. He wanted to see, and scooted up to watch. Chris still had on his jeans on, and he unzipped them while facing Zach, eyes hard on Zach’s face as all his clothes came off, Zach getting a full view of his flushed chest and hard dick.
Zach wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d spent a lot of time speculating about Chris’s dick, but he was happy as hell, if a little nervous, to find out that all his wildest dreams were true. It was as beautiful as the rest of him, long, thick, curved adorably to the left, just like it would hit all the right places. He raised his arms up in a beseeching pose.
Chris obliged by crawling up over him and kissing him deeply. Their cocks rubbed against each other, and Zach moaned into the kisses, feeling like he was about to break into a million pieces and just scatter. That it was only Chris’s hands and mouth holding him intact.
“It’s OK, it’s good, I want to watch you come apart,”
“You read minds?”
“Your face, Zach, Christ, I wish I had done this a long time ago,”
He kissed the tip of Zach’s nose.
“I never thought you would look twice at me,”
“Zach, have you seen you? I just wished, that I’d asked, that I’d known. How you felt. Because I want to make you feel good, feel as good as I do.”
Chris’s hands started up again, and Zach let himself be explored. Chris nosed over him, snuffling into his pit hair, nibbling at a nipple, letting his hot, smooth skin rub up against Zach over and over until he felt on fire.
“Keep making those noises, so hot,”
Zach hadn’t been entirely aware that he was making noises, but the look of sheer lust on Chris’s face was incentive to let himself go even further. Those strong, huge hands grabbed at Zach’s hips as Chris fastened his mouth over Zach’s aching cock. The hands were a smart move, as Zach’s hips wanted to pump up, instead he was being held steadily as Chris relaxed his throat and hummed and let Zach in deep.
Zach hooked his hand over Chris’s on his body, and let another ruffle through Chris’s hair - so soft - play over the fine bones of his face, his neck stretched up so that he could see everything. The shape of his dick stretching those lips open, the hollowed cheeks, the look of concentration in those unearthly eyes. He let his head fall back as Chris moved a hand down to play with his balls. It was going to be soon. Those fingers moving all over him, playing through his snail trail, the inside of his thighs, Zach tapped Chris gently on the side of the face.
“I’m gonna,”
Chris drew back and used his hand to pump Zach through it, catching some of his release in his mouth, spreading the rest around with his fingers.
“Jesus Mary and Gaga.”
“That good, huh?”
“Get up here, please,”
Chris moved up to where Zach could capture that beautiful face with his hands for a long, drawn-out kiss. They were both wet and sticky when they pulled back.
“Your turn?”
“Shhh, I’ve got a plan. Trust me?”
“So much. Even before you sucked my mind out through my dick,”
Chris laughed.
“You look so blissed out. It’s a good look, Z. I could get used to it. Now, lube and rubbers, s'il te plaît?”
Zach laughed to himself, remembering his jokes to Chris about how hot his speaking French was when they were in Paris together.
“Side table, second drawer.”
“A traditionalist.”
“You expected them in a gold-embossed hope chest?”
“Nah, vending machine in the dungeon corner, maybe. Next to the IV stand and the Iron Maiden.”
Chris got off of Zach to rootle through the drawer and give Zach a view of that peach of an ass. His hand moved practically of it’s own volition.
“Hey! Handsy!”
“Who could resist when you’re shaking it in front of me like that?”
“I’ll show you ass-shaking, sweetheart.”
Returning to Zach and bed, Chris leaned in for another of those so-soft kisses that Zach felt he could get rapidly addicted to. Hopelessly so.
He let himself be flipped over and adjusted to Chris’s apparent preferences, his lower back rubbed and those fingers stroking down, down, to his ass. Chris grabbed some pillows and made sure that Zach was well-bolstered, he felt a little silly being pushed around and pampered like this, but a far bigger part of him loved it, luxuriated in the attention.
A kiss on each of his cheeks, those hands back in place on his hipbones.
“I have thought about doing this for so long, Zach,”
Zach could only manage to mmm back as Chris spread him and breathed hot over the delicate skin there.
“Wanted you, always thought I was too vanilla for you, didn’t dare, so goddamn stupid,”
Then he bent his head down and licked Zach, right there, and it was sexy and tender and Zach’s head spun.
Soon, Chris had two fingers inside him. He’d never relaxed so quickly for someone. Chris was crooking them just so, pushing Zach’s left leg up for more access, cooing at Zach like he was the greatest thing in the world.
“C’mon, Chris,”
“Give me, just wait, God, Zach,”
A third finger inside him, twisting and flicking and god knows what. Then, when Chris made a short noise of satisfaction mixed with urgency, he felt their loss. Lining himself up, Chris planted a hand on Zach’s rump and whispered, “Are you ready?”
“Please,”
“Breathe for me, Z,”
Then he was inside, Zach flinched at the head breaching his ring, and concentrated on his body’s reaction to Chris as he began to slide in. In three shirt thrusts, he was there. Poised above Zach, breathing like a racehorse, with droplets of sweat dotting his back.
“Ok? You feel amazing,”
“You, you too, move now, I’m ready,”
Chris began with a yelp of excitement. He was big, bigger than anyone Zach could remember in recent times. But he was considerate with it, smoothing his hands down Zach’s sides as he pumped, that mouth releasing a stream of sweet gibberish.
He hefted Zach around the middle and up on his knees, thrusting heavily, one, two, three times, and then Chris let out a low moan.
“Zach, Zach, It’s, yes, God - ”
Afterwards, they collapsed together. Zach felt a kiss dropped on the nape of his neck. The sheets were damp beneath them. Chris grunted as he got up, and Zach listened with one ear as he snapped off the condom and made his way to the bathroom. Soon he was back, with a wet towel for Zach, and a huge smile. They cleaned up wordlessly, then rearranged themselves in the big bed. Zach wasn’t sure what would happen now, but Chris didn’t hold back, just flopped himself over Zach’s body and cradled his head on Zach’s shoulder, smiling up at him.
“We should drink something. Gin makes for a vicious hangover.”
“I gotta feeling that tomorrow’s going to be OK, somehow.”
“You’re a hidden romantic, under it all, aren’t you, Pine?”
A kiss, a long one.
“Quinto, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Next time, Champagne.”
Author: lousy_science
Giftee: the_deep_magic
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Pinto
Word Count: 4K
Summary: Prompt was: "So maybe since Heroes everyone Zach sleeps with expects him to be Sylar in bed -- an aggressive, dominating top -- when really he either prefers to bottom or just likes it slow and sensual (or both). He complains to Chris, expecting maybe a little sympathy and not much else, but Chris goes ahead and indulges him... in bed. (If author doesn’t want to write porn, romance is fine instead! Chris can be the one to court Zach.)"
Note:Title from the Magnetic Fields song. I'm unsure how much justice I did to the prompt, but I hope you don't mind the result too much. It's unbeta'd, my apologies in advance for any errors. Hope you like it BB - you're a terrific author & make fandom a more awesome place. Happy holidays.
MOD NOTE: Santa pointed out that I forgot to include this second fill for their giftee. Apologies all around!
It was all over for Zach once the first drink had been poured.
Chris had brought around gin for their reunion. Gin and a packet of Dutch cinnamon biscuits.
“I saw them in the market, thought, Man, I haven’t had these in years.”
Chris had burst through his front door with a deli bag and loads of explanations, hollered at Zach to set up the Scrabble and have a cookie while he got the drinks sorted. He’d held the bottle of Bombay Sapphire aloft and waved it at Zach like it was an Oscar.
Fucking gin. Gin was Zach’s kryptonite, the Joker to his Batman, the Ariel to his Ursula, the Taylor Swift to his Kanye. He hadn’t touched it since 2002 and a particularly nasty night out. Gin got him emo as fuck, cry-and-quote-the-Smiths emo, call-up-his-ex-and-leave-weeping-voicemails emo.
But Chris had already gotten busy in the kitchen making them what he swore was “David Niven’s own recipe, it’s gonna knock you on your ass Quinto. God, it’s good to see you. I’ve been hanging with people who drink like goddamn fifteen year olds. Seriously, who orders Red Bull, Coke and vodka with a straight face?”
“Please tell me that was Anton.”
“Nah, man, though that is a helluva image, just this guy Derrick that John somehow knows. Not a bad guy, but really, well. Giggly.”
“Pot, meet kettle,”
“The hell you say!”
Chris had emerged with a glass in each hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.
Zach’s heart sank a little at the drinks, but Chris was so eager. So Zach made a personal resolution. There was nothing Madame Geneva could dish out that could harsh his buzz at having Chris back in the same time zone. He could just filter the negative stuff out with focussed thinking, deep breathing, and handfuls of cookies. Chris was here, and that would be his anchor.
Chris, who was arranging their drinks on the coffee table and muttering something about getting the snacks. Who told Zach to sit down and that he’d be right back, running back and forth from the kitchen like an overgrown puppy. Chris. Here, in his house. At last.
Noah raised his head from his paws and gave Zach a knowing look.
“Shhh, you. Dreams are free.”
“The important thing is rhythm!”
Zach whipped his head around. Chris was back again, with dishes of peanuts and cheese cut into cubes. Into cubes. This crush of Zach’s was going to be nigh-on impossible to beat down. Not that he was trying particularly hard right now.
“Always have rhythm in your shaking! That’s William Powell, by the way.”
Zach tipped his chin up at Chris, and patted the couch next to him.
“Be my Myrna Loy?”
Chris’s laugh rang out, clear and loud and joyful. Zach sipped his martini and almost spilt it with surprise when Chris sat down just where his hand had been, leaving little space between the two of them. Or none, as Chris pivoted around so that he was leaning on Zach, his legs up on the far arm of the couch.
Zach wanted to wind his arm around him.
Zach needed to be drinking something far less potent than these martinis.
“It’s been ages, Z, how many months since I saw you?”
Four and a half. Zach swallowed a large gulp of liquid. Four and a half and he had been convinced that his utterly inappropriate crush was extinguished.
“A while. Life’s busy for a gangster, you should know that. Happy birthday, Captain, by the way.”
“God yeah, that happened.”
“How does it feel? You eating dinner at five, in bed by eight, watching repeat episodes of Matlock yet?”
“I’ve decided to take you as a model of a respectable elder gent, Zach, with your notoriously sedate lifestyle.”
Chris settled back against the couch, one arm wound behind his head, continuing.
“Can you recommend a good guy to install a dungeon for me? Or should I just hire out a specially-equipped van?”
“A van? Jesus, Pine, are you watching serial killer documentaries on the Discovery channel or what?”
“No, but I did read something on Alt.com which gave me some ideas,”
He moved his head back against Zach and looked up at him, wriggling his eyebrows. Zach rolled his eyes in response.
“Just do that brow trick some more, bound to get the ladies worked up. Especially those who are hot for Danny DeVito. Drink your drink.”
Chris slurped his martini appreciatively.
“You know I’m bi though, right? I mean, that is established, even if I am not the Sex Apollo of LA like a certain someone is, with every fucking twink in Christendom sticking up a Sylar poster on their wall - most of the lesbians, too, would fuck you in a heartbeat, my friend Nia keeps begging me to hook her up, something about a strap-on but I’m all like, guuuurl, this is Zachary Quinto here, the man does not need nor care for your strap on.”
Zach’s brain was ringing like a series of car alarms. There had been something very important in what Chris had just said, but hell if he could parse it out.
“Christopher, are you on drugs? Are there amphetamines in the peanut bowl? A strap-on, for the love of…”
“Wait, is that a resigned sigh of oh hell no or one of, maybe if I’m bored and my regular Monday afternoon orgy is cancelled?”
“Pine, listen, despite whatever the hell you have been hearing - and I am aware of at least some of the rumours - my life is not an endless whirl of kink.”
“Shyeah right,”
“Yeah right, actually. Can we get back to this bi thing? This dungeon thing? Are you hellbent on some sort of Rick James shenanigans now that you’re thirty?”
Chris twisted in his seat.
“You sound….sincere.”
“About keeping you off of the crack pipe and TMZ? Yes. Kind of.”
“Those aren’t the pipes I’m talking about smoking. No crazy orgies? No dungeon? I totally had you picked as a dungeon master.”
“The fuck did you get this slang from, Robert E. Howard?”
Zach wanted to squirm, but he had Chris half-draped over him, so he decided to try and change the subject.
“What are you working on next?”
“That is a pretty pathetic attempt to change the subject.”
Zach really did squirm this time, and drained his martini glass.
Eventually he convinced Chris to get out the Scrabble board, which he insisted on accompanying with another round of Martinis.
They talked the usual mix, books read, acting method bullshit - something they mutually acknowledged the pretention of but both utterly loved - school memories, gossip about the Trek crew, and politics. Chris continued to be wonderfully well-versed in every damn thing under the sun. Zach could feel the familiar melancholia brought on by the drinks tugging at him, but only a little. He was with his friend, he was stable, he had just scored a triple-word-score with ‘zygote’, Noah was asleep at their feet. Everything was fine. He even held out his glass for another top-up during the inevitable next round.
Then Chris did something terrible. He brought it up again.
“Sorry about earlier, the sex stuff. I genuinely thought you would be the guy to ask.”
“You and everybody’s filthy old uncle. Once Heroes went out, suddenly I was in demand, but as a person I just wasn’t capable of being. Everyone expected me to be the top of tops. I spent too long fighting myself over who I am, and I’m just not willing to change that so someone can get off on having a sadistic psychopath in their bedroom. No matter how cute you - they are.”
“That happened?”
“Still happens, a few relationships have shipwrecked on it, would you believe? Maybe it’s not just that, maybe it’s all this - this life we lead, the itinerant nature of it, but part of me wants to believe in something stable. Don’t give me that look, you’re worse than Noah.”
“It’s just that, I don’t know, you don’t seem like a cruel guy, I can’t believe that people would want you to hurt them,”
“Go figure people. Being comfortable in your own skin seems to unsettle those who aren’t, I find. God, does that sound arrogant or what?”
“No, no I get you. But Zach, you know that’s the single most attractive thing about you. That and your legs.”
“My - what are we talking about here?”
Zach shook his head to try and clear it. Perhaps this was all Chris’s plan to try and psych him out from his Scrabble game. Good luck, he had a ‘quizzes’ all ready to go.
“What happened, with the last one?”
This guy’s nickname really should be Relentless. He never let up with questions, on set or off.
“Put your word down and I’ll tell you.”
That half-grin, half-smirk flashed at him, and Chris plunked down ‘liquor’ right in the spaces Zach had mentally reserved.
“You rat bastard. Fine, the last guy I was with, Adrian? He wanted to be tied up, fairly standard issue stuff, whatever, it was kind of hot to have him so into it, but then he came at me with this sex Olympics laundry list - texted it to me, no less, I picked up my phone hoping for a nice ‘Thinking of you’ or even like, ‘Pick up some milk babe’, you know,”
Zach watched Chris’s face carefully during his revelation, not drunk enough not to watch for hints of mockery in his expression. But he looked open and sincere. His incredible eyes were soft and thoughtful as they held Zach’s glare. Zach was drunk enough to ignore the warning sirens blaring at the back of his head and carried on unloading. It’d been months since he last saw Adrian, but he was still a little upset, apparently.
“It’s just looking up at me, this list, like, ‘Breathplay, knives, golden showers, felching, barebacking, creampie’ - like I was sex Google or something. I mean, if people want that, cool, play safe and happy, but I just stared at my phone and thought, what happened to Sunday afternoon slow screwing on top of the newspapers? What about like, making out for hours on a hillside?”
“A hillside? Did you just specify a hillside?”
“Stop it! Don’t laugh, I did that once with this guy Jacob when we were fifteen, one of the best afternoons of my life. I wasn’t even in love with the guy. It was being in love with being in love. And yes, we were in the school musical together, before you start.”
“So you got Adrian’s bedroom bucket list and had this epiphany?”
“Nice turn of phrase there, Walter Winchell.”
Chris cocked his head to the side, squinting at Zach. He just looked, remaining silent. Zach really felt his stomach churning with anxiety now. He started blathering to get it all out.
“In love with being in love, the years go past you know, Chris, I just want that more and more, that feeling of being someone’s everything, if only for one night, all the really fine things - acceptance and warmth and nurturing and to be in someone’s arms. That steadiness you can only get when you feel someone’s heartbeat on your skin. It’s worth more than any number of fucking dungeon visits, for me at least.”
Chris’s voice was soft in reply.
“And do you get it?”
Zach put down his glass and buried his head in his hands. He was on the verge of sobbing. How can I, when there’s no one in this world I’ve found that wants me back the same way?
He felt Chris pull himself away and shift on the couch. This was so embarrassing, Zach felt his stomach constrict in shame. He just needed to have a big breath of air, get his Scrabble back on and drink some tea. In more or less that order.
The big breath of air whooshed on out of him early, when he felt Chris’s arms wrap around his back. It was an awkward, half-hug, but all the discomfit was on Zach’s side - Chris felt solid and welcoming. Zach was torn between wanting to peer between his fingers in horror or to keep his eyes screwed close and wish for the floor to swallow him up.
Chris hugged with all of his body, his thigh parallel to Zach’s, his arms and torso melding over his bent form like a piece of clothing.
Instead of choosing sanity and pulling away, Zach stretched up a bit and swivelled into Chris’s arms. After all, his Mama always said - if you reject a gift you deny someone the pleasure of giving it to you. Ma never mentioned the gift of guiltily groping Chris Pine, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Zach hoped.
“God, Zach, I’m sorry,”
“Shit, Chris. Don’t even.”
Chris went to pull away, Zach let him go, but he stopped. Daring to look up, he found their faces just a couple of inches apart.
“It wasn’t what I had planned for tonight, upsetting you.”
Zach shook his head gently.
“No, no, just the gin, my own bullshit can wait. We were having fun, and you - you can ask me whatever you want. Always.”
“Really?”
What made Chris sound so eager? What on earth would he want to ask Zach?
Those long fingers were drawing circles on his back. Though they were in an uncomfortable position, they stayed there, leaning into each other’s bodies, clasping at their sides.
Zach was working on the deep breathing thing, when Chris leant forward that much more into his body and caught his earlobe between his teeth. It was hot, warm, a light barely-there movement, but Zach could feel the bottom of his stomach head for the floor. Chris's mouth smoothly moved up to Zach's temple, nuzzling at his hairline, and then those elegant fingers moved up to cradle his face, and Zach's neck was being turned, he was being looked at by Chris with an expression of utter tenderness.
And then Zach was being kissed by Chris Pine.
Chris’s hands were holding Zach’s head with a soft but firm grip, which was good as it stopped Zach from pulling his face back in shock. His mouth seemed to get with the program several heartbeats before Zach’s brain did. His lips opened easy as breathing, letting Chris in to take his sweet time exploring Zach’s tongue and palate. Then slipped away, but not too far, kissing along Zach’s jaw line and up over his cheeks, dotting touches at the side of his nose, the edge of his eyelid, his forehead. It was totally unexpected, and felt amazingly good, to be loved on so thoroughly.
Zach wasn't that slow, he soon had his hands on Chris's back under his shirt, got a palmful of ass. Mouthed at the tender spot under Chris's ear and heard a gratifying moan. They reorganised themselves on the couch for better mutual access, Zach pushed back on the cushions at the mercy of Chris's touches, teeth, tongue, lips, those constantly searching fingers. His legs were spread farther than Zach’s tight jeans would really allow. All the tighter for having Chris’s legs strong and heavy on top of him.
“Too much, Chris, I’ll - I’ll come,”
“OK, not yet,”
Chris moved his hand away from where it had been determinedly rubbing over Zach’s bulge. He backed up and grabbed Zach’s hands. In the back of his mind, Zach thought, this is it, this is when you come to your senses and stop this, but the look on Chris’s face overrode every other option but being led to his bedroom, stopping only for a quick, furious make-out session against the wall. They ripped each other’s shirts off and left them in the hallway.
Once in his bedroom, Chris moved Zach’s hands away when they went to his jeans: “No, let me. C’mon,”
Chris had this humor me look on his face, just gliding over something more serious, more rich with desire. Zach’s arms fell to his sides as Chris stripped him of clothing, slowly, making an art of it. Sitting him down on the bed, a small push to his chest to persuade Zach to lie back. He wanted to see, and scooted up to watch. Chris still had on his jeans on, and he unzipped them while facing Zach, eyes hard on Zach’s face as all his clothes came off, Zach getting a full view of his flushed chest and hard dick.
Zach wasn’t proud of the fact that he’d spent a lot of time speculating about Chris’s dick, but he was happy as hell, if a little nervous, to find out that all his wildest dreams were true. It was as beautiful as the rest of him, long, thick, curved adorably to the left, just like it would hit all the right places. He raised his arms up in a beseeching pose.
Chris obliged by crawling up over him and kissing him deeply. Their cocks rubbed against each other, and Zach moaned into the kisses, feeling like he was about to break into a million pieces and just scatter. That it was only Chris’s hands and mouth holding him intact.
“It’s OK, it’s good, I want to watch you come apart,”
“You read minds?”
“Your face, Zach, Christ, I wish I had done this a long time ago,”
He kissed the tip of Zach’s nose.
“I never thought you would look twice at me,”
“Zach, have you seen you? I just wished, that I’d asked, that I’d known. How you felt. Because I want to make you feel good, feel as good as I do.”
Chris’s hands started up again, and Zach let himself be explored. Chris nosed over him, snuffling into his pit hair, nibbling at a nipple, letting his hot, smooth skin rub up against Zach over and over until he felt on fire.
“Keep making those noises, so hot,”
Zach hadn’t been entirely aware that he was making noises, but the look of sheer lust on Chris’s face was incentive to let himself go even further. Those strong, huge hands grabbed at Zach’s hips as Chris fastened his mouth over Zach’s aching cock. The hands were a smart move, as Zach’s hips wanted to pump up, instead he was being held steadily as Chris relaxed his throat and hummed and let Zach in deep.
Zach hooked his hand over Chris’s on his body, and let another ruffle through Chris’s hair - so soft - play over the fine bones of his face, his neck stretched up so that he could see everything. The shape of his dick stretching those lips open, the hollowed cheeks, the look of concentration in those unearthly eyes. He let his head fall back as Chris moved a hand down to play with his balls. It was going to be soon. Those fingers moving all over him, playing through his snail trail, the inside of his thighs, Zach tapped Chris gently on the side of the face.
“I’m gonna,”
Chris drew back and used his hand to pump Zach through it, catching some of his release in his mouth, spreading the rest around with his fingers.
“Jesus Mary and Gaga.”
“That good, huh?”
“Get up here, please,”
Chris moved up to where Zach could capture that beautiful face with his hands for a long, drawn-out kiss. They were both wet and sticky when they pulled back.
“Your turn?”
“Shhh, I’ve got a plan. Trust me?”
“So much. Even before you sucked my mind out through my dick,”
Chris laughed.
“You look so blissed out. It’s a good look, Z. I could get used to it. Now, lube and rubbers, s'il te plaît?”
Zach laughed to himself, remembering his jokes to Chris about how hot his speaking French was when they were in Paris together.
“Side table, second drawer.”
“A traditionalist.”
“You expected them in a gold-embossed hope chest?”
“Nah, vending machine in the dungeon corner, maybe. Next to the IV stand and the Iron Maiden.”
Chris got off of Zach to rootle through the drawer and give Zach a view of that peach of an ass. His hand moved practically of it’s own volition.
“Hey! Handsy!”
“Who could resist when you’re shaking it in front of me like that?”
“I’ll show you ass-shaking, sweetheart.”
Returning to Zach and bed, Chris leaned in for another of those so-soft kisses that Zach felt he could get rapidly addicted to. Hopelessly so.
He let himself be flipped over and adjusted to Chris’s apparent preferences, his lower back rubbed and those fingers stroking down, down, to his ass. Chris grabbed some pillows and made sure that Zach was well-bolstered, he felt a little silly being pushed around and pampered like this, but a far bigger part of him loved it, luxuriated in the attention.
A kiss on each of his cheeks, those hands back in place on his hipbones.
“I have thought about doing this for so long, Zach,”
Zach could only manage to mmm back as Chris spread him and breathed hot over the delicate skin there.
“Wanted you, always thought I was too vanilla for you, didn’t dare, so goddamn stupid,”
Then he bent his head down and licked Zach, right there, and it was sexy and tender and Zach’s head spun.
Soon, Chris had two fingers inside him. He’d never relaxed so quickly for someone. Chris was crooking them just so, pushing Zach’s left leg up for more access, cooing at Zach like he was the greatest thing in the world.
“C’mon, Chris,”
“Give me, just wait, God, Zach,”
A third finger inside him, twisting and flicking and god knows what. Then, when Chris made a short noise of satisfaction mixed with urgency, he felt their loss. Lining himself up, Chris planted a hand on Zach’s rump and whispered, “Are you ready?”
“Please,”
“Breathe for me, Z,”
Then he was inside, Zach flinched at the head breaching his ring, and concentrated on his body’s reaction to Chris as he began to slide in. In three shirt thrusts, he was there. Poised above Zach, breathing like a racehorse, with droplets of sweat dotting his back.
“Ok? You feel amazing,”
“You, you too, move now, I’m ready,”
Chris began with a yelp of excitement. He was big, bigger than anyone Zach could remember in recent times. But he was considerate with it, smoothing his hands down Zach’s sides as he pumped, that mouth releasing a stream of sweet gibberish.
He hefted Zach around the middle and up on his knees, thrusting heavily, one, two, three times, and then Chris let out a low moan.
“Zach, Zach, It’s, yes, God - ”
Afterwards, they collapsed together. Zach felt a kiss dropped on the nape of his neck. The sheets were damp beneath them. Chris grunted as he got up, and Zach listened with one ear as he snapped off the condom and made his way to the bathroom. Soon he was back, with a wet towel for Zach, and a huge smile. They cleaned up wordlessly, then rearranged themselves in the big bed. Zach wasn’t sure what would happen now, but Chris didn’t hold back, just flopped himself over Zach’s body and cradled his head on Zach’s shoulder, smiling up at him.
“We should drink something. Gin makes for a vicious hangover.”
“I gotta feeling that tomorrow’s going to be OK, somehow.”
“You’re a hidden romantic, under it all, aren’t you, Pine?”
A kiss, a long one.
“Quinto, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Next time, Champagne.”