Fic: My First, My Last, My Everything
Title: My First, My Last, My Everything
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto (Star Trek 2009 RPS)
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Chris dances for Zach to the tune of Barry White’s “My First, My Last, My Everything”.
Beta: none
Note: Lyrics Chris sings and title obviously from “My First, My Last, My Everything” by Barry White
Word Count: 1699
It was one of those perfect mornings. Zach woke up with Chris pressed against his back, arms loose around his torso, breath warm as it came in soft huffs against his neck. He stayed like that for long enough to feel lazy before he managed to untangle himself from Chris without waking the other man. Zach showered and dressed in a worn cotton t-shirt and faded jeans that had been washed so many times they were almost colorless.
Zach brewed some coffee using a French press, a gift from a friend after noting their penchant for purchased coffee. Chris refused to use it, preferring his bought brew but Zach was becoming a connoisseur. He poured a cup, leaving it black, adding only a spoonful of sugar, before taking it into the living room.
Noah was happily lying on the sofa already. “You’re supposed to fetch me my newspaper,” Zach told the dog. Noah didn’t move at all but did bark, telling Zach exactly what he thought of that idea. Zach smiled, ruffled the dog’s fur, and kissed him on the top of his head before retrieving the LA Times from his front porch.
The coffee was rich and bitter and just sweet enough on Zach’s tongue as he took a swallow and began thumbing through the paper. He glanced over at Noah, who had dozed off, and smiled, taking another sip of coffee and wondering if he could get an empty cup from LAMILL and pull the old switcheroo on Chris. Zach’s grin deepened at the thought of his lover, who was still tangled in the sheets of their bed, sleeping soundly. Zach was tempted to wake Chris but thought better of it. The other man had two shows tomorrow and two on Sunday, he deserved some extra shuteye.
Zach let his thoughts linger on Chris for a few moments. He never thought he’d want anything like this, anything so domestic, so comfortable, so easy. He liked dance clubs and wild nights and believed mornings were for other people. Until he met Chris. Oh, sure, he still liked crazy nights and waking up after noon. But this wasn’t half bad either, though he was sure he’d never completely turn into a morning person.
Zach turned his attention back to the paper and became engrossed in an article in the Arts and Culture section, idly stroking Noah’s back when he heard it: the thrum of music, a steady recognizable beat, and a deep, deep voice, speaking.
We got it together didn't we. We definitely got our thing together don't we, baby.
Zach turned his head very slowly towards the stereo system and wondered how it had turned itself on when he caught something else in his periphery. Chris stood in the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen, back facing Zach, in nothing but his white boxer-briefs and white tube socks. One hand rested against the frame at head level, the other was planted at Chris’ hip. His legs were spread, one bent at the knee, his foot arched so that he stood on his toes with the other flat against the floor. His hips rocked back and forth to the beat of the music, his shoulders still. Zach raised both eyebrows just a fraction. “Chris?”
Chris continued to sway his hips, getting his legs into it, dropping his hand from the archway and lifting his arms above his head, shoulders going as the beat got heavier, as the music got louder, until he finally spun and rocked a little more before rushing forward and skidding along the hardwood floor until he was only a few feet in front of Zach. Hips, arms, and legs were still grooving to the music as he began to sing.
“My first, my last, my everything. And the answer, to all my dreams,” he belted out, spinning around, shimmying and swiveling his hips, getting closer to Zach and pointing at him with both arms stretched out. “You’re my sun, my moon, my guiding star. My kind of wonderful, that’s what you are.”
Zach had his hand in front of his mouth, grinning and giggling a little, drawing his legs up beneath him. Chris’ head went left and right, arms above his head now as he moved along to the music. His dancing was disjointed and clumsy and almost off beat but somehow that only made it better.
“You’re, you’re all I’m living for. Your love I’ll keep forever more,” Chris bellowed, pivoting, hips thrusting forward and finally jumping up onto the coffee table. “You’re the first, you’re the last, my everything.” At those words he sunk to his knees, still rocking his hips, the movements almost obscene. It was all apparently too much for Noah, who made a quick exit from the living room before his doggy eyes saw anything else.
Chris was so tantalizingly close that Zach reached for him but Chris quickly maneuvered off of the table and just out of his reach, getting on his feet and catching the beat again. He ran his hand up his own stomach, sliding his fingers against his chest, and all the way up until they threaded through his hair as his body continued to gyrate.
“You're my reality, yet I’m lost in a dream. You're the first, my last, my everything.” Chris slid down into a half split during the last bit, making Zach cackle, wide eyed and impressed. Chris sauntered his way over to the sofa, climbing up onto it, straddling Zach’s thighs and standing above him for the big finish.
“I know, there’s only one, only one like you. There’s no way they could have made two,” he sang, hands on Zach’s cheeks, running down his neck and finally gripping his shoulders as he sunk down onto his lap. “You’re the first, you’re the last, my everything,” he rasped against Zach’s mouth, pushing his hips forward and rocking himself against Zach.
Zach couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed hold of Chris hard and smashed their mouths together, roughly dragging Chris down on top of him. They didn’t need music now; they made a rhythm all their own as they rutted together, hands everywhere, lips wild against lips.
There were no words now, no music, just groans and whimpered yeses and soft little gasps forming a dissonant melody. Zach pushed his hand inside Chris’ briefs and wrapped his fingers around Chris’ hard cock, hissing softly as the zipper to his jeans was undone and Chris did the same to him.
The skin of Chris’ hand was slightly rough, the pads of his fingers calloused as they moved against Zach in long, elegant strokes. Zach’s own cadence wasn’t nearly as polished as he sharply jerked and squeezed around Chris’ flesh, feeling it pulse as his grip tightened and twisting his wrist and tugging violently.
The sound that came from Chris was low, guttural, and shot right to Zach’s cock, his stomach tightening, his balls aching as he raised his hips and pushed Chris’ hand harder against him. Chris’ touch was knowing and smooth as he continued to stroke Zach slowly even as he groaned and came over Zach’s fist, his hand faltering for only a beat before squeezing tighter around Zach.
Chris lifted his head and their eyes met and Zach’s mouth fell open at the sight of Chris. His mouth was slightly open, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip, his face flushed, eyes bluer than a summer sky. Chris’ lips curled in a smile, his eyes flashing. He brought his lips to Zach’s ear and sang the last words of the song again as he finished Zach off with a few brutal twists and tugs.
Zach shook and moaned as he came, fingernails digging into Chris’ arms. It took a few beats for Zach to find his voice and when he did Chris was leaning above him, using one hand as a brace and reaching for his cup of coffee and swallowing a little, making a face that told Zach he was never going to be sold on anything but store bought coffee. He still drained the rest of the cup before resting against Zach again.
“What inspired all that?” Zach asked at last.
“Just wanted to spice up your morning routine,” Chris said. “What, you didn’t like it?”
“Oh no, I loved it. I’ve never seen you dance like that,” Zach said. “And God knows I love your ass in these briefs,” he said, giving it a squeeze. Chris chuckled. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” Chris asked, eyebrow arching.
“You won’t ever dance like that in front of people,” Zach said.
Chris effected the look of someone deeply wounded. “Are you saying I’m not a good dancer?” he asked, hand going over his heart.
“I’m saying you’re a terrible dancer,” Zach said.
“That hurts, Zach, that really hurts,” Chris said.
“You’re so full of shit, you know you’re terrible. That’s why you never want to go dancing with me. And now that I’ve seen it I’m convinced you’re right. But that’s not the reason you’re not allowed to dance like that in front of people.”
“For what reason then am I not allowed to dance in front of people?”
“I don’t want you shaking your fabulous tight ass and man junk in front of anyone else. The sexual fury you might unleash could incite a riot or an orgy. Or both.”
Chris laughed. “I see. Not into sharing, huh?”
“No, not,” Zach said, sliding his fingers behind Chris’ neck and kissing him possessively.
“Don’t worry, Zachary. My fabulous ass and man junk are yours and yours alone. And that was a command performance, just for you.”
“Lucky me,” Zach said. Their lips met and Zach smoothed his hands over Chris’ back. “Very lucky me.”
“Oh, by the way, I forgot to say good morning,” Chris whispered against Zach’s mouth before swiping his tongue gently over Zach’s lower lip. “Good morning, baby.”
Zach managed to breathe a soft “good morning,” before Chris’ mouth was against his again, starting a kiss that was wet, and messy, and needy and had Zach hard and aching for Chris all over again. Zach had never been a morning person but a few more like this and he just might be a convert.
~fin~
click to download: My First, My Last, My Everything by Barry White
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto (Star Trek 2009 RPS)
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Chris dances for Zach to the tune of Barry White’s “My First, My Last, My Everything”.
Beta: none
Note: Lyrics Chris sings and title obviously from “My First, My Last, My Everything” by Barry White
Word Count: 1699
It was one of those perfect mornings. Zach woke up with Chris pressed against his back, arms loose around his torso, breath warm as it came in soft huffs against his neck. He stayed like that for long enough to feel lazy before he managed to untangle himself from Chris without waking the other man. Zach showered and dressed in a worn cotton t-shirt and faded jeans that had been washed so many times they were almost colorless.
Zach brewed some coffee using a French press, a gift from a friend after noting their penchant for purchased coffee. Chris refused to use it, preferring his bought brew but Zach was becoming a connoisseur. He poured a cup, leaving it black, adding only a spoonful of sugar, before taking it into the living room.
Noah was happily lying on the sofa already. “You’re supposed to fetch me my newspaper,” Zach told the dog. Noah didn’t move at all but did bark, telling Zach exactly what he thought of that idea. Zach smiled, ruffled the dog’s fur, and kissed him on the top of his head before retrieving the LA Times from his front porch.
The coffee was rich and bitter and just sweet enough on Zach’s tongue as he took a swallow and began thumbing through the paper. He glanced over at Noah, who had dozed off, and smiled, taking another sip of coffee and wondering if he could get an empty cup from LAMILL and pull the old switcheroo on Chris. Zach’s grin deepened at the thought of his lover, who was still tangled in the sheets of their bed, sleeping soundly. Zach was tempted to wake Chris but thought better of it. The other man had two shows tomorrow and two on Sunday, he deserved some extra shuteye.
Zach let his thoughts linger on Chris for a few moments. He never thought he’d want anything like this, anything so domestic, so comfortable, so easy. He liked dance clubs and wild nights and believed mornings were for other people. Until he met Chris. Oh, sure, he still liked crazy nights and waking up after noon. But this wasn’t half bad either, though he was sure he’d never completely turn into a morning person.
Zach turned his attention back to the paper and became engrossed in an article in the Arts and Culture section, idly stroking Noah’s back when he heard it: the thrum of music, a steady recognizable beat, and a deep, deep voice, speaking.
We got it together didn't we. We definitely got our thing together don't we, baby.
Zach turned his head very slowly towards the stereo system and wondered how it had turned itself on when he caught something else in his periphery. Chris stood in the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen, back facing Zach, in nothing but his white boxer-briefs and white tube socks. One hand rested against the frame at head level, the other was planted at Chris’ hip. His legs were spread, one bent at the knee, his foot arched so that he stood on his toes with the other flat against the floor. His hips rocked back and forth to the beat of the music, his shoulders still. Zach raised both eyebrows just a fraction. “Chris?”
Chris continued to sway his hips, getting his legs into it, dropping his hand from the archway and lifting his arms above his head, shoulders going as the beat got heavier, as the music got louder, until he finally spun and rocked a little more before rushing forward and skidding along the hardwood floor until he was only a few feet in front of Zach. Hips, arms, and legs were still grooving to the music as he began to sing.
“My first, my last, my everything. And the answer, to all my dreams,” he belted out, spinning around, shimmying and swiveling his hips, getting closer to Zach and pointing at him with both arms stretched out. “You’re my sun, my moon, my guiding star. My kind of wonderful, that’s what you are.”
Zach had his hand in front of his mouth, grinning and giggling a little, drawing his legs up beneath him. Chris’ head went left and right, arms above his head now as he moved along to the music. His dancing was disjointed and clumsy and almost off beat but somehow that only made it better.
“You’re, you’re all I’m living for. Your love I’ll keep forever more,” Chris bellowed, pivoting, hips thrusting forward and finally jumping up onto the coffee table. “You’re the first, you’re the last, my everything.” At those words he sunk to his knees, still rocking his hips, the movements almost obscene. It was all apparently too much for Noah, who made a quick exit from the living room before his doggy eyes saw anything else.
Chris was so tantalizingly close that Zach reached for him but Chris quickly maneuvered off of the table and just out of his reach, getting on his feet and catching the beat again. He ran his hand up his own stomach, sliding his fingers against his chest, and all the way up until they threaded through his hair as his body continued to gyrate.
“You're my reality, yet I’m lost in a dream. You're the first, my last, my everything.” Chris slid down into a half split during the last bit, making Zach cackle, wide eyed and impressed. Chris sauntered his way over to the sofa, climbing up onto it, straddling Zach’s thighs and standing above him for the big finish.
“I know, there’s only one, only one like you. There’s no way they could have made two,” he sang, hands on Zach’s cheeks, running down his neck and finally gripping his shoulders as he sunk down onto his lap. “You’re the first, you’re the last, my everything,” he rasped against Zach’s mouth, pushing his hips forward and rocking himself against Zach.
Zach couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed hold of Chris hard and smashed their mouths together, roughly dragging Chris down on top of him. They didn’t need music now; they made a rhythm all their own as they rutted together, hands everywhere, lips wild against lips.
There were no words now, no music, just groans and whimpered yeses and soft little gasps forming a dissonant melody. Zach pushed his hand inside Chris’ briefs and wrapped his fingers around Chris’ hard cock, hissing softly as the zipper to his jeans was undone and Chris did the same to him.
The skin of Chris’ hand was slightly rough, the pads of his fingers calloused as they moved against Zach in long, elegant strokes. Zach’s own cadence wasn’t nearly as polished as he sharply jerked and squeezed around Chris’ flesh, feeling it pulse as his grip tightened and twisting his wrist and tugging violently.
The sound that came from Chris was low, guttural, and shot right to Zach’s cock, his stomach tightening, his balls aching as he raised his hips and pushed Chris’ hand harder against him. Chris’ touch was knowing and smooth as he continued to stroke Zach slowly even as he groaned and came over Zach’s fist, his hand faltering for only a beat before squeezing tighter around Zach.
Chris lifted his head and their eyes met and Zach’s mouth fell open at the sight of Chris. His mouth was slightly open, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip, his face flushed, eyes bluer than a summer sky. Chris’ lips curled in a smile, his eyes flashing. He brought his lips to Zach’s ear and sang the last words of the song again as he finished Zach off with a few brutal twists and tugs.
Zach shook and moaned as he came, fingernails digging into Chris’ arms. It took a few beats for Zach to find his voice and when he did Chris was leaning above him, using one hand as a brace and reaching for his cup of coffee and swallowing a little, making a face that told Zach he was never going to be sold on anything but store bought coffee. He still drained the rest of the cup before resting against Zach again.
“What inspired all that?” Zach asked at last.
“Just wanted to spice up your morning routine,” Chris said. “What, you didn’t like it?”
“Oh no, I loved it. I’ve never seen you dance like that,” Zach said. “And God knows I love your ass in these briefs,” he said, giving it a squeeze. Chris chuckled. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” Chris asked, eyebrow arching.
“You won’t ever dance like that in front of people,” Zach said.
Chris effected the look of someone deeply wounded. “Are you saying I’m not a good dancer?” he asked, hand going over his heart.
“I’m saying you’re a terrible dancer,” Zach said.
“That hurts, Zach, that really hurts,” Chris said.
“You’re so full of shit, you know you’re terrible. That’s why you never want to go dancing with me. And now that I’ve seen it I’m convinced you’re right. But that’s not the reason you’re not allowed to dance like that in front of people.”
“For what reason then am I not allowed to dance in front of people?”
“I don’t want you shaking your fabulous tight ass and man junk in front of anyone else. The sexual fury you might unleash could incite a riot or an orgy. Or both.”
Chris laughed. “I see. Not into sharing, huh?”
“No, not,” Zach said, sliding his fingers behind Chris’ neck and kissing him possessively.
“Don’t worry, Zachary. My fabulous ass and man junk are yours and yours alone. And that was a command performance, just for you.”
“Lucky me,” Zach said. Their lips met and Zach smoothed his hands over Chris’ back. “Very lucky me.”
“Oh, by the way, I forgot to say good morning,” Chris whispered against Zach’s mouth before swiping his tongue gently over Zach’s lower lip. “Good morning, baby.”
Zach managed to breathe a soft “good morning,” before Chris’ mouth was against his again, starting a kiss that was wet, and messy, and needy and had Zach hard and aching for Chris all over again. Zach had never been a morning person but a few more like this and he just might be a convert.
~fin~
click to download: My First, My Last, My Everything by Barry White