fic | The worst of the truths are behind us. [chris pine/zq]
So, aurora_84 was asking for "Pinto" recs the other day, and I was all superior and like "haha pinto". And then, because I have the LSATs the next day (which only determines the rest of my life, whatever), I was halfway toying with writing commentfic that was all about how Chris Pine is very pretty and mostly a nice guy but also kind of a douche (but still pretty!). And ZQ of course is a cool frood who really knows where his towel is.
Then, it was 3:30 AM and my fic got too big to fit in a comment.
Also, it is unbetaed because it was suppose to be quick, commentfic ok?
The worst of the truths are behind us.
by godofwine
chris pine/zq, r
7 June 2009
*
The thing is, Chris knows, logically, emotionally even, that fucking Zach is just about the worst idea in the world.
Of course, he does it anyway.
*
The first time, the first time was - excusable. Understandable. He hadn't known Zach then, just some cool guy he met at a cool party in the cool part of town. It wasn't exactly a good idea at that time either, but it didn't seem to matter when he and Zach were scrambling for each other clothes in Zach's modern, L.A. hallway, hopped up on the fever of political imagination and cheap beer.
It was good; Zach's mouth knew its way around a dick, and he let Chris fuck him without much preparation first. It wasn't Chris's first time with a guy even though he actually preferred girls. It wasn't something he thought much about.
In the morning, Zach was in the shower when Chris woke up. He spent a good ten minutes thinking up the most unawkward, smooth morning-after greeting possible, but what came out was:
"Hey...you," and "So, Matt got you on cable crunches yet?"
Which ok, Chris was never going to be the cool, casual hook-up guy even though he had absolutely no problem not being emotionally connected to who his dick went into. His last girlfriend (lasted three months even though it started out as a ten minutes make-out session in a coat check) once told him it was because he's too nice and polite about it: "It just feels too much like kicking a puppy leaving you there all smiley and vulnerable."
This, Chris thought, could be disaster.
Except, Zach (Chris learns later) was also never going to be the guy who found politeness endearing or who ever believed in the inevitability of prolonging an awkward situation, so he said: "I think I'm doing legs this week," and, "I have to head out. Work."
"Right, right," Chris said and managed a "See you at the gym" on his way out the door.
Best kind of sex, Chris thought, no consequences.
*
Three weeks later of course, Chris runs head first into the first law of L.A. life: everyone knows everyone else.
He's auditioning for Captain motherfucking Kirk, and ok, not doing too great, but not completely bombing or anything either, when the casting director says, "Ok, we'll just do a quick run through with Zachary Quinto - he's playing Spock - tomorrow, and then we'll let you know."
It's just, Chris isn't exactly above calling up an old flame and saying, "Hey, I had a good time that one night. Want to do it again? Oh, and by the way, can you put in a good word in with your director because this might launch my fucking career?" except he had a feeling that was only going to make Zach like him less, probably send him running to J.J. Abrams with an entire essay about how not Kirk Chris actually was.
The next day, Zach was already at the audition room when Chris got there, and J. J. was there too, all cool and relaxed just like Zach. Chris could just imagine how not-cool and relaxed he was going to be, and he could feel his muscles tensing just from thinking about all the uncomfortable silences he and Zach would have to try to avoid.
Except, when he walked in, Zach was all, "Hey man," like at no point in their acquaintance were penises involved. Which was a game Chris could totally play (take that, Kirk!), so he said, "What's up?" back and got out his script.
*
And it worked. It worked great. These were lines that were already written, not obscure, half-forgotten etiquette that Zach was content with ignoring and Chris had to dance around. That easy chemistry that got them to Zach's bedroom in the first place flowed, casual and sparkling, across the charisma of Kirk's passion and the regality of Spock's logic.
Halfway through, J.J. was already smiling and nodding, and it was like the easiest, most important test Chris ever passed.
Afterwards, Zach stopped him on his way to his car and said, "Hey, you were pretty good in there," not like he was surprised, just friendly.
"It was a joint effort," Chris said back sincerely, and, because he was feeling grateful and daring, "I'm actually about to head out to dinner. Want to come with?"
"Sure," Zach said without hesitation.
*
That night could have been the second time. It probably should have been even.
At dinner, they talked about what they remembered about old Star Trek. Zach told a few stories about the set of Heroes, and Chris explained how he gargled mouth wash for literally ten minutes after he had to kiss Lindsey Lohan and still felt like calling his doctor for a full check up. They talked about Obama's chances for winning and whether George Bush or Dick Cheney was the bigger asshole. They compared Matt the Personal Trainer impersonations and then segued neatly, naturally, inexplicably into a discussion on their favorite adjectives.
After the check, Chris walked Zach to his car like a proper gentleman. They were quiet after the long drool of dinner, though Chris could feel the expectation building.
At the door, Zach hesitated. "So, you want to come back to my place?" he said, looking down at his hands.
I could do it, Chris thought. It was against his usual M.O. to go with the same non-female twice, but it wouldn't be a big deal to make an exception. It probably wouldn't mean anything anyway.
He thought about the sliding bubble of the present between the anchors of history and future on the timeline between them. He thought about how it was the first time he had seen Zach looking unsure, fumbling with keys and looking humanly touchable in the half-obscured parking lot lamplight.
"I'd love to,” he said, "but I actually have an early day tomorrow."
"Good night," he said.
*
So that hadn't been the second time.
No, the second time was in Zach's trailer, already three weeks into shooting, Chris bent over the back of a desk while Zach thrusted, gentle and hard and obtrusive and unshakable, behind him.
Throughout most of it, Chris thought about the way the desk's edge was digging into his cheekbone and how it would probably leave a red mark that would make the makeup people unhappy. He still came before Zach was done.
The second time was the actual Bad Idea, the inexcusable, ununderstandable one. It was the one mostly made by newbies on the sets of teenage romances where the long days together and the emotions of the characters bubbled up into the actors themselves.
Chris knew it was a bad idea.
It didn't make sense that it would happen now anyway when he had had no problem resisting Zach so far. Hadn't even needed to try to resist when most of what he felt for Zach could be summed up as friendship and enjoyment of each other's company. He used most of his flirting skills on Zoë, even though she took to it about as well as her character did to Kirk, half winking smirks, half perfect unattainability.
It wasn't even a memorable day of shooting. They had some uninspired dialogue about why something was not right in the state of Vulcan. They finished it in four takes.
Looking back, Chris thinks, probably unfairly, that it must have been because of Leonard even though he hadn't remembered Leonard actually being on set that week. He did remember the way Zach's voice sped up in excitement just over the syllables of Leonard's name: "Oh yeah, LeonardandI were talking about how unabatably intertwined the destiny of the character is with your perception of the world, isn't he so cool."
It's just Chris already had a headache from shooting, and the way Zach kept going on about it, all eager and respectful and awed made Chris want to break something in the worst way.
He wasn't even jealous of the whole Zach/Nimoy Spock bond. The big shining proof that J.J. was bridging the gap between the old and the new with affection and acceptance.
He understood that it made the note from Shatner, still taped on his refrigerator door, feel vaguely pathetic in comparison. On the other hand, if Shatner was here, he'd probably forget Chris's name.
So it wasn't Leonard exactly, rather the idea of him, the idea of him to Zach. Chris knew he was probably being petty, but he wanted Zach to stop, to go back to the Zach who laughed at his jokes all time and shared silly handshakes and listened to Chris with so much affection.
But that's not something he can say.
He was being a spoiled, whiny brat, he knew, but he was in the middle of changing his life, and it's probably the worst idea that he's ever had, but like a lot of things in life, it was simple; it produced results.
So he pulled Zach into the closer of their trailers, Zach's, found the secret drawer that the PAs kept stocked with condoms and lube, and let go.
Afterwards, Zach eased out slowly and quietly. When Chris turned around, Zach was already dressed.
"Hey, you've got a - " Zach said, reaching out, and Chris knew he didn't stop the flinch back in time. Zach saw and dropped his hand.
And that was the second time.
*
The second time doesn't lead to a third time, which obviously has no chance to lead to a fourth time.
The second time does lead to two weeks of the most intense uncomfortableness Chris has ever felt.
He wakes up, half-convinced the studio has sent in execs again with another lecture on his dick and how not to use it. He's pretty sure he deserves it too.
He worries it's starting to affect the cast dynamic, even though he and Zach are perfectly friendly in public. They're not even unfriendly in private, just slightly more careful around each other. Like:
Zach's arm brushes his, and Zach apologizes. Chris mispronounces anachronism, and Zach doesn't laugh.
It makes Chris feel nauseous.
Beginning of the third week, Zach cracks a joke in character, and Chris spends a good five minutes laughing and messing up takes and probably getting on everyone's nerves since it's the last scene before lunch.
It's ok though because when they do break, everyone scrambles off to the craft tables and it's just him and Zach and the lights of the Enterprise.
I can fix this, Chris thinks, have to. "Listen, I just wanted to say -," he starts, and Zach looks at him, looks at him directly in the eye like Zach hasn't done in too long. It's the razor sharp intensity of a precipice's edge, the breath between "ok" and "so long".
It scares him.
And then, Zach says, "Hey Captain, you think you could try to control that camera hogging affinity for five minutes so we can get this scene done today?"
Chris smirks and says, "I'm sorry, are you sure you don't need to cry to your mommy about it first? I know how you can get very emotional."
"Hey," Zach says back, "my mom's Winona Ryder. She can fuck you up."
Chris laughs. He soaks up Zach's voice like sunshine.
*
Between the end of shooting and the start of the first round of promotion, Chris has a few weeks of calm.
He spends most of it doing dumb shit like playing video games and sleeping till two in the afternoon and eating junk food that he doesn't actually enjoy. He's storing up for the storm to come, he rationalizes.
Two weeks before the world premiere, Chris bumps into Zach at the check-in at LAX. He's forgotten what it's like to have Zach in front of him, all lazy energy and cool vowels.
Of course, he's missed it.
But then the storm comes, and they're trotted off from interview to interview, answering the same questions and smiling wide smiles, the makeup building up between takes like silt on their skin.
It's probably the safest, easiest time to give it another go. They're stuck together most of the day already, sides pressed warm from trying to fit into the shot. Chris listens to eloquence roll off of Zach's tongue, casual and beautiful, and even though it's mostly repetitive, he's still impressed each time.
Probably, no one would notice. They're good friends, and it shows, even in the night which they live with the thrill of young starlets. He's never felt closer to Zach.
It gets close one night. In Auckland, he thinks, or maybe Kuwait. It's funny how he can't remember the difference.
They were in the hallway of a lush hotel, half drunk but only half. There had been a karaoke session, and John Cho had killed like usual. Zach was telling him about a musical he did in high school, and Chris was enjoying the fuzziness of the room and the timbre of Zach's voice.
It was easy to reach up with his mouth - he was close already, he had stumbled and Zach had caught him - reach up to Zach and taste the corner of a mouth, caught between the softness of Zach's lips and the prickle of his stubble.
He looks up at Zach and smiles, ready. It could have been easy.
Zach looks back at him, sad and confused and maybe unhappy. He shakes his head no.
In the morning, when Chris is completely sober again and in his own bed, he is grateful. Of course it's better this way, he thinks.
*
After the movie's been out for awhile, Zach goes on a solo press tour in Mexico and Chris gets to stay home and read up for his next play.
He rounds up the last of the cast that's still in L.A. and throws a party at J.J.'s place the first weekend Zach's back. It's L.A. so it gets pulled together with glamorous effectiveness for which he is grateful.
When Zach walks in, looking genuinely surprised at the commotion around him, Chris let's himself pull Zach close. "Belated birthday surprise," he says against Zach's ear.
"Thank you," Zach whispers back.
The hug is probably going on too long to be brotherly, but Chris can't bring himself to care. It's the first time he's felt safe and comfortable in weeks. He wonders if he's gotten so used to having Zach in his space that his skin will always itch from the distance.
Around 10:30, Audriana saunters in through the back gate. Chris's heart stops for a second. It's not surprising that's she heard about this, but the whole point of putting the relationship on hold was so they wouldn't be together anymore.
But it's not exactly her fault he pulled away, and he doesn't have to be rude. He walks over, leans down. He aims for her cheek, but she turns just so and he tastes the sticky sweetness of her lip-gloss.
She doesn't know that many people here, so he stays close. He doesn't want her to feel isolated even though she's Audriana and she's probably never had a self-conscious moment in her life.
Her shoulder's always been the right height and slenderness for him to slip a casual arm around. It's one of the things he's always liked about her.
Sometime after midnight, she starts to complain about being tired and needing to head home. He's spent too long at her side. He was supposed to be saying "welcome back" to Zach, but he hasn't seen Zach for an hour at least.
Still, she's had a lot to drink, much more than him, and he owes her. He's the one who turned away.
He says, "Let me just say my goodbyes, and I'll drive you home," and she says, "Oh, won't you?"
*
He finds Zach in J.J.'s study, thumbing through a book of black and white photography and sipping from a ornate tumbler. Scotch, from the looks of it.
"Hey, listen man, I gotta take Audriana back, she's not feeling well," Chris says. "But I just wanted to say -"
- "Whatever," Zach says, without looking up. -
"But I just wanted to say it's good to see you again, and we definitely need to get together soon."
"Whatever," Zach says again.
And, Chris knows Zach's not one to waste time with bullshit, but he can see the tension in Zach's jaw, the way he clenches out the words, and Chris knows, of course he knows, that it's not that straightforward.
He walks back out to the front of the house where Audriana is waiting.
Fucking Zach has always been a mistake, he knows.
Zach is his best friend, he knows.
"Let me call you a cab," he tells her.
He finds Zach again, in the coatroom this time. "Ok, you want to tell me what that was about?" he says.
"What?" Zach says, laughingly bitter.
"I thought we were having a good night..."
"Is there something wrong with you?" Zach says, straight at him this time. "Are you really this fucking dense?"
It's not really that much louder than Zach's normal voice, it wouldn't even count as yelling except for the jagged spikes of anger and disgust, more intense than Zach's ever delivered any line.
It shocks him.
It's just, for all that Zach went on about the duality inside him, the push and pull of the emotional and the analytical, the most intense feeling Zach usually displayed was indifference, sometimes served up with a side of self-assertiveness.
Zach praised Chris in the same tone he used to thank the fans which was often in the same breath he said, "but I mean it doesn't really matter, you know?" Chris has never known where exactly he stood with Zach, Zach who’s a mystery and a magnet, sometime lover and now, longtime friend.
"What do you want from me?" he asks, finally.
"For god's sake Chris, what do you want?" Zach says. He's calmer now, but it's the calm of the ocean, deceptively flat except for all the waves that Chris is learning to see. "When was the last time you even half-expressed what you really want?" he adds.
"You make it sound so simple," Chris says pleadingly.
Zach takes a breath. "It doesn't have to be hard," he says.
*
This is how their third time goes down:
Chris is on his back, in an actual bed for a change. He's had half a glass of champagne all night, just enough to bring into relief the crystal clarity of Zach and Zach's room and Zach's sheets around them.
Zach is above him, Zach is in him. Zach is quiet, and Zach is saying, "I've missed this, have you missed this?"
"God," Chris says, "you have no idea."
Zach is still good at this, like Chris remembered. He's got a good angle, keeps a steady, precise pace like the best kind of drummer.
Normally, Chris likes a bit of messy kissing to go along with his sex, but Zach is propped up, inches above him, that tangible expense of air that separates them even as Zach moves in him, moves in him. Zach’s eyes are sharp; Chris is glad he can see them.
They continue. After a bit, Zach says, "Man, you seriously have to let go."
"You're the one that's uptight," Chris says, even though he knows it's true. He lets himself relax.
He presses up, presses close, his mouth against Zach's, and feels the heat.
*
It's the sunshine that wakes Chris up. His bedroom window, from the house he's yet to replace after the Star Trek fame, faces a wall.
Zach's in the bathroom again though the shower's not on. Chris thinks he's probably suppose to be getting dressed right about now, but Zach's bed is very nice and warm, and his clothes still smell like strong perfume.
He thinks, it doesn't have to be hard at all.
Chris is half dozing when Zach comes back. He looks good in just his boxers, still toned and fit and more masculine than Chris remembers.
They're not talking again, even though that's usually when the trouble comes in. Too much emptiness to mess things up. Chris thinks really hard about not being an asshole.
Finally, Zach says, "Dude, if you ask me about arm curls, I am seriously going to have to stop being your friend."
"Nah," Chris says back easily, "I was going to say, 'You're look pretty fucking unperturbable right now'."
Zach laughs. "Good word," he says.
*
Normally, I am not one to have long Author's Notes aside from the description/explanation at the beginning, but there are a few things I want to say:
1. ZQ has a very interesting pattern of speech that sounds both very structured yet lyrical at the same time. He is an eloquent man! If I could, I'd love to mimic it in real life as well as here, but I can't so I settled for making him speak as little as possible and mostly in response to situations that he cannot answer elegantly. I hope this can be forgiven.
2. 'Unperturbable' is a made-up word that was shamelessly stolen from kaneko's Intersections, which is my favourite piece of fanfiction ever written.
3. Chris Pine being kind of a douche is based on this Cosmo article (which, to give him some credit, may or may not be an accurate representation of what he really thinks), the fact that he dated someone best known for being on The Hills, and some interview where a blonde chick flirts with him, and he turns all mushy. To steal another made-up adjective (Mrs. Lintott, History Boys): cunt-struck.
4. The possible impression that this fic may or may not convey that Chris Pine is on a lower scale of intelligence than ZQ is based entirely on the offering up of "anomaly" as a response to ZQ's usage of "zeitgeist" (or something of the ilk). Anomaly is a common word despite its many syllables (as many as five even!) whereas zeitgeist symbolizes the pinnacle of Hegelian dialectics. I'm just saying. (Although, to be fair, he did throw out erudite once I think, so I don't actually think he's that stupid.)
ETA: I apologize! It was actually 'absconded' that ZQ used (thank you _profiterole_) which is still way more intellectual than 'anomaly'. Also, ZQ quite likes to sneak out a little 'zeitgeist' in his interviews, so I maintain that my original point still stands.
5. Everything I have just said is the most utter bollocks. I'm really just a mean person. I really think Chris Pine The Person seems like a very nice, very sweet, very genuine person. With maybe just a touch of douchyness. Chris Pine The Character is another story.
Then, it was 3:30 AM and my fic got too big to fit in a comment.
Also, it is unbetaed because it was suppose to be quick, commentfic ok?
The worst of the truths are behind us.
by godofwine
chris pine/zq, r
7 June 2009
*
The thing is, Chris knows, logically, emotionally even, that fucking Zach is just about the worst idea in the world.
Of course, he does it anyway.
*
The first time, the first time was - excusable. Understandable. He hadn't known Zach then, just some cool guy he met at a cool party in the cool part of town. It wasn't exactly a good idea at that time either, but it didn't seem to matter when he and Zach were scrambling for each other clothes in Zach's modern, L.A. hallway, hopped up on the fever of political imagination and cheap beer.
It was good; Zach's mouth knew its way around a dick, and he let Chris fuck him without much preparation first. It wasn't Chris's first time with a guy even though he actually preferred girls. It wasn't something he thought much about.
In the morning, Zach was in the shower when Chris woke up. He spent a good ten minutes thinking up the most unawkward, smooth morning-after greeting possible, but what came out was:
"Hey...you," and "So, Matt got you on cable crunches yet?"
Which ok, Chris was never going to be the cool, casual hook-up guy even though he had absolutely no problem not being emotionally connected to who his dick went into. His last girlfriend (lasted three months even though it started out as a ten minutes make-out session in a coat check) once told him it was because he's too nice and polite about it: "It just feels too much like kicking a puppy leaving you there all smiley and vulnerable."
This, Chris thought, could be disaster.
Except, Zach (Chris learns later) was also never going to be the guy who found politeness endearing or who ever believed in the inevitability of prolonging an awkward situation, so he said: "I think I'm doing legs this week," and, "I have to head out. Work."
"Right, right," Chris said and managed a "See you at the gym" on his way out the door.
Best kind of sex, Chris thought, no consequences.
*
Three weeks later of course, Chris runs head first into the first law of L.A. life: everyone knows everyone else.
He's auditioning for Captain motherfucking Kirk, and ok, not doing too great, but not completely bombing or anything either, when the casting director says, "Ok, we'll just do a quick run through with Zachary Quinto - he's playing Spock - tomorrow, and then we'll let you know."
It's just, Chris isn't exactly above calling up an old flame and saying, "Hey, I had a good time that one night. Want to do it again? Oh, and by the way, can you put in a good word in with your director because this might launch my fucking career?" except he had a feeling that was only going to make Zach like him less, probably send him running to J.J. Abrams with an entire essay about how not Kirk Chris actually was.
The next day, Zach was already at the audition room when Chris got there, and J. J. was there too, all cool and relaxed just like Zach. Chris could just imagine how not-cool and relaxed he was going to be, and he could feel his muscles tensing just from thinking about all the uncomfortable silences he and Zach would have to try to avoid.
Except, when he walked in, Zach was all, "Hey man," like at no point in their acquaintance were penises involved. Which was a game Chris could totally play (take that, Kirk!), so he said, "What's up?" back and got out his script.
*
And it worked. It worked great. These were lines that were already written, not obscure, half-forgotten etiquette that Zach was content with ignoring and Chris had to dance around. That easy chemistry that got them to Zach's bedroom in the first place flowed, casual and sparkling, across the charisma of Kirk's passion and the regality of Spock's logic.
Halfway through, J.J. was already smiling and nodding, and it was like the easiest, most important test Chris ever passed.
Afterwards, Zach stopped him on his way to his car and said, "Hey, you were pretty good in there," not like he was surprised, just friendly.
"It was a joint effort," Chris said back sincerely, and, because he was feeling grateful and daring, "I'm actually about to head out to dinner. Want to come with?"
"Sure," Zach said without hesitation.
*
That night could have been the second time. It probably should have been even.
At dinner, they talked about what they remembered about old Star Trek. Zach told a few stories about the set of Heroes, and Chris explained how he gargled mouth wash for literally ten minutes after he had to kiss Lindsey Lohan and still felt like calling his doctor for a full check up. They talked about Obama's chances for winning and whether George Bush or Dick Cheney was the bigger asshole. They compared Matt the Personal Trainer impersonations and then segued neatly, naturally, inexplicably into a discussion on their favorite adjectives.
After the check, Chris walked Zach to his car like a proper gentleman. They were quiet after the long drool of dinner, though Chris could feel the expectation building.
At the door, Zach hesitated. "So, you want to come back to my place?" he said, looking down at his hands.
I could do it, Chris thought. It was against his usual M.O. to go with the same non-female twice, but it wouldn't be a big deal to make an exception. It probably wouldn't mean anything anyway.
He thought about the sliding bubble of the present between the anchors of history and future on the timeline between them. He thought about how it was the first time he had seen Zach looking unsure, fumbling with keys and looking humanly touchable in the half-obscured parking lot lamplight.
"I'd love to,” he said, "but I actually have an early day tomorrow."
"Good night," he said.
*
So that hadn't been the second time.
No, the second time was in Zach's trailer, already three weeks into shooting, Chris bent over the back of a desk while Zach thrusted, gentle and hard and obtrusive and unshakable, behind him.
Throughout most of it, Chris thought about the way the desk's edge was digging into his cheekbone and how it would probably leave a red mark that would make the makeup people unhappy. He still came before Zach was done.
The second time was the actual Bad Idea, the inexcusable, ununderstandable one. It was the one mostly made by newbies on the sets of teenage romances where the long days together and the emotions of the characters bubbled up into the actors themselves.
Chris knew it was a bad idea.
It didn't make sense that it would happen now anyway when he had had no problem resisting Zach so far. Hadn't even needed to try to resist when most of what he felt for Zach could be summed up as friendship and enjoyment of each other's company. He used most of his flirting skills on Zoë, even though she took to it about as well as her character did to Kirk, half winking smirks, half perfect unattainability.
It wasn't even a memorable day of shooting. They had some uninspired dialogue about why something was not right in the state of Vulcan. They finished it in four takes.
Looking back, Chris thinks, probably unfairly, that it must have been because of Leonard even though he hadn't remembered Leonard actually being on set that week. He did remember the way Zach's voice sped up in excitement just over the syllables of Leonard's name: "Oh yeah, LeonardandI were talking about how unabatably intertwined the destiny of the character is with your perception of the world, isn't he so cool."
It's just Chris already had a headache from shooting, and the way Zach kept going on about it, all eager and respectful and awed made Chris want to break something in the worst way.
He wasn't even jealous of the whole Zach/Nimoy Spock bond. The big shining proof that J.J. was bridging the gap between the old and the new with affection and acceptance.
He understood that it made the note from Shatner, still taped on his refrigerator door, feel vaguely pathetic in comparison. On the other hand, if Shatner was here, he'd probably forget Chris's name.
So it wasn't Leonard exactly, rather the idea of him, the idea of him to Zach. Chris knew he was probably being petty, but he wanted Zach to stop, to go back to the Zach who laughed at his jokes all time and shared silly handshakes and listened to Chris with so much affection.
But that's not something he can say.
He was being a spoiled, whiny brat, he knew, but he was in the middle of changing his life, and it's probably the worst idea that he's ever had, but like a lot of things in life, it was simple; it produced results.
So he pulled Zach into the closer of their trailers, Zach's, found the secret drawer that the PAs kept stocked with condoms and lube, and let go.
Afterwards, Zach eased out slowly and quietly. When Chris turned around, Zach was already dressed.
"Hey, you've got a - " Zach said, reaching out, and Chris knew he didn't stop the flinch back in time. Zach saw and dropped his hand.
And that was the second time.
*
The second time doesn't lead to a third time, which obviously has no chance to lead to a fourth time.
The second time does lead to two weeks of the most intense uncomfortableness Chris has ever felt.
He wakes up, half-convinced the studio has sent in execs again with another lecture on his dick and how not to use it. He's pretty sure he deserves it too.
He worries it's starting to affect the cast dynamic, even though he and Zach are perfectly friendly in public. They're not even unfriendly in private, just slightly more careful around each other. Like:
Zach's arm brushes his, and Zach apologizes. Chris mispronounces anachronism, and Zach doesn't laugh.
It makes Chris feel nauseous.
Beginning of the third week, Zach cracks a joke in character, and Chris spends a good five minutes laughing and messing up takes and probably getting on everyone's nerves since it's the last scene before lunch.
It's ok though because when they do break, everyone scrambles off to the craft tables and it's just him and Zach and the lights of the Enterprise.
I can fix this, Chris thinks, have to. "Listen, I just wanted to say -," he starts, and Zach looks at him, looks at him directly in the eye like Zach hasn't done in too long. It's the razor sharp intensity of a precipice's edge, the breath between "ok" and "so long".
It scares him.
And then, Zach says, "Hey Captain, you think you could try to control that camera hogging affinity for five minutes so we can get this scene done today?"
Chris smirks and says, "I'm sorry, are you sure you don't need to cry to your mommy about it first? I know how you can get very emotional."
"Hey," Zach says back, "my mom's Winona Ryder. She can fuck you up."
Chris laughs. He soaks up Zach's voice like sunshine.
*
Between the end of shooting and the start of the first round of promotion, Chris has a few weeks of calm.
He spends most of it doing dumb shit like playing video games and sleeping till two in the afternoon and eating junk food that he doesn't actually enjoy. He's storing up for the storm to come, he rationalizes.
Two weeks before the world premiere, Chris bumps into Zach at the check-in at LAX. He's forgotten what it's like to have Zach in front of him, all lazy energy and cool vowels.
Of course, he's missed it.
But then the storm comes, and they're trotted off from interview to interview, answering the same questions and smiling wide smiles, the makeup building up between takes like silt on their skin.
It's probably the safest, easiest time to give it another go. They're stuck together most of the day already, sides pressed warm from trying to fit into the shot. Chris listens to eloquence roll off of Zach's tongue, casual and beautiful, and even though it's mostly repetitive, he's still impressed each time.
Probably, no one would notice. They're good friends, and it shows, even in the night which they live with the thrill of young starlets. He's never felt closer to Zach.
It gets close one night. In Auckland, he thinks, or maybe Kuwait. It's funny how he can't remember the difference.
They were in the hallway of a lush hotel, half drunk but only half. There had been a karaoke session, and John Cho had killed like usual. Zach was telling him about a musical he did in high school, and Chris was enjoying the fuzziness of the room and the timbre of Zach's voice.
It was easy to reach up with his mouth - he was close already, he had stumbled and Zach had caught him - reach up to Zach and taste the corner of a mouth, caught between the softness of Zach's lips and the prickle of his stubble.
He looks up at Zach and smiles, ready. It could have been easy.
Zach looks back at him, sad and confused and maybe unhappy. He shakes his head no.
In the morning, when Chris is completely sober again and in his own bed, he is grateful. Of course it's better this way, he thinks.
*
After the movie's been out for awhile, Zach goes on a solo press tour in Mexico and Chris gets to stay home and read up for his next play.
He rounds up the last of the cast that's still in L.A. and throws a party at J.J.'s place the first weekend Zach's back. It's L.A. so it gets pulled together with glamorous effectiveness for which he is grateful.
When Zach walks in, looking genuinely surprised at the commotion around him, Chris let's himself pull Zach close. "Belated birthday surprise," he says against Zach's ear.
"Thank you," Zach whispers back.
The hug is probably going on too long to be brotherly, but Chris can't bring himself to care. It's the first time he's felt safe and comfortable in weeks. He wonders if he's gotten so used to having Zach in his space that his skin will always itch from the distance.
Around 10:30, Audriana saunters in through the back gate. Chris's heart stops for a second. It's not surprising that's she heard about this, but the whole point of putting the relationship on hold was so they wouldn't be together anymore.
But it's not exactly her fault he pulled away, and he doesn't have to be rude. He walks over, leans down. He aims for her cheek, but she turns just so and he tastes the sticky sweetness of her lip-gloss.
She doesn't know that many people here, so he stays close. He doesn't want her to feel isolated even though she's Audriana and she's probably never had a self-conscious moment in her life.
Her shoulder's always been the right height and slenderness for him to slip a casual arm around. It's one of the things he's always liked about her.
Sometime after midnight, she starts to complain about being tired and needing to head home. He's spent too long at her side. He was supposed to be saying "welcome back" to Zach, but he hasn't seen Zach for an hour at least.
Still, she's had a lot to drink, much more than him, and he owes her. He's the one who turned away.
He says, "Let me just say my goodbyes, and I'll drive you home," and she says, "Oh, won't you?"
*
He finds Zach in J.J.'s study, thumbing through a book of black and white photography and sipping from a ornate tumbler. Scotch, from the looks of it.
"Hey, listen man, I gotta take Audriana back, she's not feeling well," Chris says. "But I just wanted to say -"
- "Whatever," Zach says, without looking up. -
"But I just wanted to say it's good to see you again, and we definitely need to get together soon."
"Whatever," Zach says again.
And, Chris knows Zach's not one to waste time with bullshit, but he can see the tension in Zach's jaw, the way he clenches out the words, and Chris knows, of course he knows, that it's not that straightforward.
He walks back out to the front of the house where Audriana is waiting.
Fucking Zach has always been a mistake, he knows.
Zach is his best friend, he knows.
"Let me call you a cab," he tells her.
He finds Zach again, in the coatroom this time. "Ok, you want to tell me what that was about?" he says.
"What?" Zach says, laughingly bitter.
"I thought we were having a good night..."
"Is there something wrong with you?" Zach says, straight at him this time. "Are you really this fucking dense?"
It's not really that much louder than Zach's normal voice, it wouldn't even count as yelling except for the jagged spikes of anger and disgust, more intense than Zach's ever delivered any line.
It shocks him.
It's just, for all that Zach went on about the duality inside him, the push and pull of the emotional and the analytical, the most intense feeling Zach usually displayed was indifference, sometimes served up with a side of self-assertiveness.
Zach praised Chris in the same tone he used to thank the fans which was often in the same breath he said, "but I mean it doesn't really matter, you know?" Chris has never known where exactly he stood with Zach, Zach who’s a mystery and a magnet, sometime lover and now, longtime friend.
"What do you want from me?" he asks, finally.
"For god's sake Chris, what do you want?" Zach says. He's calmer now, but it's the calm of the ocean, deceptively flat except for all the waves that Chris is learning to see. "When was the last time you even half-expressed what you really want?" he adds.
"You make it sound so simple," Chris says pleadingly.
Zach takes a breath. "It doesn't have to be hard," he says.
*
This is how their third time goes down:
Chris is on his back, in an actual bed for a change. He's had half a glass of champagne all night, just enough to bring into relief the crystal clarity of Zach and Zach's room and Zach's sheets around them.
Zach is above him, Zach is in him. Zach is quiet, and Zach is saying, "I've missed this, have you missed this?"
"God," Chris says, "you have no idea."
Zach is still good at this, like Chris remembered. He's got a good angle, keeps a steady, precise pace like the best kind of drummer.
Normally, Chris likes a bit of messy kissing to go along with his sex, but Zach is propped up, inches above him, that tangible expense of air that separates them even as Zach moves in him, moves in him. Zach’s eyes are sharp; Chris is glad he can see them.
They continue. After a bit, Zach says, "Man, you seriously have to let go."
"You're the one that's uptight," Chris says, even though he knows it's true. He lets himself relax.
He presses up, presses close, his mouth against Zach's, and feels the heat.
*
It's the sunshine that wakes Chris up. His bedroom window, from the house he's yet to replace after the Star Trek fame, faces a wall.
Zach's in the bathroom again though the shower's not on. Chris thinks he's probably suppose to be getting dressed right about now, but Zach's bed is very nice and warm, and his clothes still smell like strong perfume.
He thinks, it doesn't have to be hard at all.
Chris is half dozing when Zach comes back. He looks good in just his boxers, still toned and fit and more masculine than Chris remembers.
They're not talking again, even though that's usually when the trouble comes in. Too much emptiness to mess things up. Chris thinks really hard about not being an asshole.
Finally, Zach says, "Dude, if you ask me about arm curls, I am seriously going to have to stop being your friend."
"Nah," Chris says back easily, "I was going to say, 'You're look pretty fucking unperturbable right now'."
Zach laughs. "Good word," he says.
*
Normally, I am not one to have long Author's Notes aside from the description/explanation at the beginning, but there are a few things I want to say:
1. ZQ has a very interesting pattern of speech that sounds both very structured yet lyrical at the same time. He is an eloquent man! If I could, I'd love to mimic it in real life as well as here, but I can't so I settled for making him speak as little as possible and mostly in response to situations that he cannot answer elegantly. I hope this can be forgiven.
2. 'Unperturbable' is a made-up word that was shamelessly stolen from kaneko's Intersections, which is my favourite piece of fanfiction ever written.
3. Chris Pine being kind of a douche is based on this Cosmo article (which, to give him some credit, may or may not be an accurate representation of what he really thinks), the fact that he dated someone best known for being on The Hills, and some interview where a blonde chick flirts with him, and he turns all mushy. To steal another made-up adjective (Mrs. Lintott, History Boys): cunt-struck.
4. The possible impression that this fic may or may not convey that Chris Pine is on a lower scale of intelligence than ZQ is based entirely on the offering up of "anomaly" as a response to ZQ's usage of "zeitgeist" (or something of the ilk). Anomaly is a common word despite its many syllables (as many as five even!) whereas zeitgeist symbolizes the pinnacle of Hegelian dialectics. I'm just saying. (Although, to be fair, he did throw out erudite once I think, so I don't actually think he's that stupid.)
ETA: I apologize! It was actually 'absconded' that ZQ used (thank you _profiterole_) which is still way more intellectual than 'anomaly'. Also, ZQ quite likes to sneak out a little 'zeitgeist' in his interviews, so I maintain that my original point still stands.
5. Everything I have just said is the most utter bollocks. I'm really just a mean person. I really think Chris Pine The Person seems like a very nice, very sweet, very genuine person. With maybe just a touch of douchyness. Chris Pine The Character is another story.