Fic: Shutter Speed
Title: Shutter Speed
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto (Star Trek 2009 RPS)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Zach helps Chris relax during a photo shoot.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: b_dsaint guessed some Neil Diamond lyrics in my journal and won herself a ficlet. She asked for “Pinto boys during a Joe!photoshoot”. On Joe Quinto’s official site he had this to say about working with Chris: Planning a strategy for the shoot with Chris, I took into consideration the fact that he does not relish doing photo shoots. We started with an experienced, friendly crew that was able to put him at ease from the start, then built on that foundation using the great rapport that Chris and I have. In the studio, we were very collaborative. Two stylists, a make-up artist, Chris, myself, and even my assistants gave input throughout the shoot. Some of the most emotive images of Chris actually came as he was interacting with another member of the crew who was off-camera..
Word Count: 1905
There was nothing Chris hated more than photo shoots. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were a few things he hated more. Like George W Bush and neoconservatives and people with no business driving a fucking car, thank you very much, just to name a few. But photo shoots were certainly on the very top of a rather long list.
Chris liked to think his acting was organic. He tried to ground every decision, every emotion in something tangible and real. To his mind there was nothing more forced or phony than some photographer leering at you from behind a camera telling you to make love to it. In a way he supposed models that were actually good at their jobs were to be admired for finding some sort of truth in the inherently false. Then again, he always believed that the modeling world was the final stop for those without even a smidge of talent or else they’d all drag their pretty little selves over to the acting or music business.
Of course, the truth at the heart of Chris’ discomfort had nothing to do with his disdain for the world of modeling and more to do with his personal discomfort at having a dozen people fussing and fawning all over him, telling him how good he looked, dabbing at his makeup, fixing his hair, feeling up his inseam to make sure the crotch wasn’t so tight it gave away his religion. Some people could eat that shit up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but not him. He just felt stupid and useless and the whole process made him so uncomfortable that he never could quite relax.
“How are you feeling over there, Chris?” Joe said, stepping away from the camera.
“Good, I feel good,” Chris said. Joe arched an eyebrow in a manner Chris could only describe as Quintonian. “Okay, not that good. I told you, dude, I’m not great at this.”
“Finally, something you don’t excel at,” Zach said, appearing from nowhere, boots clicking heavily against the floor as he took slow steps in Chris’ general direction.
Chris clenched his jaw to contain the smile that wanted to erupt on his face. He hated-and by hated he meant he loved-the way Zach’s mere proximity sent happy little frissons through his body, lightening his mood while at the same time causing the damnedest tightening in his chest. “I also can’t dance,” Chris said.
Zach smirked. “That I already knew,” he said. When he reached Joe, Zach leaned in and kissed his brother’s cheek before peeking through the camera and then looking over at Chris. “So how’s all this going?”
“Chris is a little stiff,” Joe said, lips curling in an evil smirk.
“Stiff, huh?” Zach said, moving towards where Chris was standing. His gait was almost feline, liquid smooth and precise.
Zach was finally standing right in front of Chris. Chris swallowed reflexively, licking his lips like he did when he was nervous and wondering where the sudden tension had come from. He wasn’t sure why but Zach’s arrival had sparked a change in the atmosphere inside the studio. It was crazy but Chris could feel it, feel the air crackle, his own nerve endings jagged now in a much different way than they were before. “Zach,” Chris said, the name falling dumbly from his lips when nothing else would form in his brain.
“Can’t relax?” Zach asked, eyes narrowed and fixed on Chris’, voice low.
Chris swallowed again. “Not really,” he managed.
“Think you can help out with that? Relax your friend so we can get out of here before we’re all collecting Social Security?”
Joe’s words made a few people chuckle, including Zach. The laughter was light, airy and nothing like the look that was in Zach’s eyes. The brown orbs glinted with heat and danger. Chris tugged at the collar of his shirt and forced himself not to look away.
“Sit,” Zach said, indicating the stool that was directly behind Chris.
Chris narrowed his eyes and almost made a joke about his name not being Noah but the look in Zach’s eyes killed it before it even got to his tongue. Instead he settled down on the stool, straddling it. He watched as Zach stepped out of reach and moved next to Joe.
“I think we should clear the extra people out of the room,” Zach said. “Chris might be more at ease that way.”
Joe’s eyes darted from his brother to Chris before he nodded. “Take lunch, everyone,” he called out. It took a few minutes for Joe’s staff to clear out, leaving the three of them alone.
Zach was watching Chris closely, eyeing him in a way that could only be described as predatory. If removing everyone from the room was supposed to make this easier it was having the opposite effect. The tension was still there, in fact, it had ratcheted up several ticks in the last few minutes. The only change was what it was composed of. The sense of unease was now replaced with something twisty and sharp in Chris’ belly that pooled low in his gut.
Zach began speaking, commanding Chris, telling him where to move, how to position his arms, to hug himself, to tuck his chin against his chest, lower his eyes. Zach’s voice was demanding but held a silky undercurrent, bittersweet and dark as it oozed around Chris like molten chocolate. It took Chris more than a few heartbeats to adjust to the new dynamic, to accept Zach’s orders without wanting to get off the stool and smack his friend upside the head. Something undefined was happening, taking shape in the space between them, something wanting and wild.
The more Zach spoke, the more Chris let it pervade him, gave himself over to it. The sound vibrated through Chris, hot and thick, turning to lust, making him ache. Zach continued talking to him, teasing and low, intercut by the rhythmic click of the shutter.
Zach instructed Chris to close his eyes which Chris did without challenge. Chris heard footsteps, deliberate and heavy. His cock twitched and his heart stuttered. “Spread your legs for me, Chris,” Zach whispered right against Chris’ ear, breathy and for only him to hear.
Chris complied, opening his legs and straddling the stool widely. Hands pressed against his shoulders, the touch certain and strong as fingers slid down his arms, until he felt the warm pads of Zach’s fingertips push under the thin white cotton of his t-shirt and smooth against his stomach, making him quiver. Zach’s fingers hooked just inside the worn waistband of Chris’ jeans and Chris couldn’t fight the moan the escaped his lips.
“Look at me, Chris,” Zach said.
Chris’ eyes fluttered open and his vision swam a little. Zach stood over him, eyes black with desire, tongue swiping over his lips, leaving them enticingly wet, making the urge to know how Zach tasted almost uncontrollable.
In all the time they’d been friends they’d never come so close to the edge as they did right now. Chris knew that Zach felt the same things he did, felt the crazy, dangerous attraction that thrummed between them every moment they were together. They walked the line and stoked it with deceptively casual touches and flirty little smiles but they never crossed it.
Zach took hold of Chris’ upper arms and dug his fingers in, climbing onto his lap, skating his hands down, holding Chris’ arms in place as he scooted forward so that he was fully seated, chest almost touching Chris’.
Zach bent his head and ran his lips along Chris’ jaw, over his neck. His lips were softer than Chris had imagined they’d be and warm as they slid over his skin until they hovered a breath away from Chris’ mouth.
Chris parted his lips and was about to lean forward, to stamp out the last vestiges of the line they’d held between them for so long, when movement caught his eye and he tried to turn his head. Zach stopped him with a hand on his cheek, gently but sternly turning his head so that all Chris saw was Zach.
“Look at me, Chris,” Zach said. “Forget everything else. It’s just you and me here. Chris and Zach.”
Zach’s fingers practically burned against Chris’ cheek as they skidded down his face. Zach’s other hand came up to mimic the first one, his mouth achingly close. “Are you gonna fucking kiss me or what?” Chris rasped, impatience getting the better of him.
Breathless laughter came from Zach. “Part your lips for me, Chris,” Zach said, his voice whisper-loud now. Chris opened his mouth. “A little less. That’s right; now wet your lower lip a little.”
Chris heart raced, his cock pulsed. “Zach,” he breathed.
“Shh,” Zach murmured, thumb swiping gently over Chris’ lower lip. Chris fell silent again, drowning in Zach’s eyes, in his voice. “Too fucking beautiful,” Zach rasped before their lips finally met.
Chris couldn’t stop the need that surged through him at that first soft touch of skin to skin. It was unfettered and brazen, overtaking his senses as their mouths smashed together, all remnants of control gone for the moment as they pushed their bodies together and reveled in what they had denied themselves for too long.
Zach regained composure before Chris did, methodically and deliberately slowing the kiss down so that at last it was soft and slow. Chris felt like putty, yielding and compliant, allowing Zach to shape him into anything he wanted.
Chris let out a low moan when Zach’s mouth left his. Their foreheads touched and they shared breath as Chris felt his heart rate begin to return to normal. He didn’t try to speak, not trusting his own voice, even though there were a million things he was desperate to say.
Zach broke the silence first. “Relaxed now?”
Zach’s voice was playful and it made Chris laugh. “Relaxed might not be the exact word I’d use,” Chris said.
Zach smirked and his hand drifted between Chris’ thighs, fingertips brushing lightly over the bulge there. Chris’ breath hitched and then caught in his throat when he saw the vulgar look in Zach’s eyes. “You have to finish your shoot,” he said, carefully climbing down from Chris’ lap. Chris opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by Zach’s mouth, soft and sweet against his. “Come by my place later and we’ll finish this, I promise,” he murmured.
“You better mean that,” Chris said in a choked whisper.
“I always mean it,” Zach said, caressing Chris’ jaw line before stepping away and walking over to his brother. “He’s all yours now,” he said, winking over at Chris and then heading in the direction of the door.
Joe shook his head. “You know ninety percent of these pictures are unusable,” he said.
“You’ll get some fit for public consumption. I’ll send your staff back in,” Zach said on his way out the door.
“It seemed so innocent at the time when I asked him to drop by and help you relax,” Joe said.
Chris rubbed the back of his neck and looked over at Joe, a little chagrined. “Sorry.”
Joe laughed. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Just say cheese,” he said, getting behind the camera.
Chris laughed and said ‘cheese’, flashing a big smile for Joe and letting himself truly relax for the first time all day.
~fin~
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto (Star Trek 2009 RPS)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Zach helps Chris relax during a photo shoot.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: b_dsaint guessed some Neil Diamond lyrics in my journal and won herself a ficlet. She asked for “Pinto boys during a Joe!photoshoot”. On Joe Quinto’s official site he had this to say about working with Chris: Planning a strategy for the shoot with Chris, I took into consideration the fact that he does not relish doing photo shoots. We started with an experienced, friendly crew that was able to put him at ease from the start, then built on that foundation using the great rapport that Chris and I have. In the studio, we were very collaborative. Two stylists, a make-up artist, Chris, myself, and even my assistants gave input throughout the shoot. Some of the most emotive images of Chris actually came as he was interacting with another member of the crew who was off-camera..
Word Count: 1905
There was nothing Chris hated more than photo shoots. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were a few things he hated more. Like George W Bush and neoconservatives and people with no business driving a fucking car, thank you very much, just to name a few. But photo shoots were certainly on the very top of a rather long list.
Chris liked to think his acting was organic. He tried to ground every decision, every emotion in something tangible and real. To his mind there was nothing more forced or phony than some photographer leering at you from behind a camera telling you to make love to it. In a way he supposed models that were actually good at their jobs were to be admired for finding some sort of truth in the inherently false. Then again, he always believed that the modeling world was the final stop for those without even a smidge of talent or else they’d all drag their pretty little selves over to the acting or music business.
Of course, the truth at the heart of Chris’ discomfort had nothing to do with his disdain for the world of modeling and more to do with his personal discomfort at having a dozen people fussing and fawning all over him, telling him how good he looked, dabbing at his makeup, fixing his hair, feeling up his inseam to make sure the crotch wasn’t so tight it gave away his religion. Some people could eat that shit up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but not him. He just felt stupid and useless and the whole process made him so uncomfortable that he never could quite relax.
“How are you feeling over there, Chris?” Joe said, stepping away from the camera.
“Good, I feel good,” Chris said. Joe arched an eyebrow in a manner Chris could only describe as Quintonian. “Okay, not that good. I told you, dude, I’m not great at this.”
“Finally, something you don’t excel at,” Zach said, appearing from nowhere, boots clicking heavily against the floor as he took slow steps in Chris’ general direction.
Chris clenched his jaw to contain the smile that wanted to erupt on his face. He hated-and by hated he meant he loved-the way Zach’s mere proximity sent happy little frissons through his body, lightening his mood while at the same time causing the damnedest tightening in his chest. “I also can’t dance,” Chris said.
Zach smirked. “That I already knew,” he said. When he reached Joe, Zach leaned in and kissed his brother’s cheek before peeking through the camera and then looking over at Chris. “So how’s all this going?”
“Chris is a little stiff,” Joe said, lips curling in an evil smirk.
“Stiff, huh?” Zach said, moving towards where Chris was standing. His gait was almost feline, liquid smooth and precise.
Zach was finally standing right in front of Chris. Chris swallowed reflexively, licking his lips like he did when he was nervous and wondering where the sudden tension had come from. He wasn’t sure why but Zach’s arrival had sparked a change in the atmosphere inside the studio. It was crazy but Chris could feel it, feel the air crackle, his own nerve endings jagged now in a much different way than they were before. “Zach,” Chris said, the name falling dumbly from his lips when nothing else would form in his brain.
“Can’t relax?” Zach asked, eyes narrowed and fixed on Chris’, voice low.
Chris swallowed again. “Not really,” he managed.
“Think you can help out with that? Relax your friend so we can get out of here before we’re all collecting Social Security?”
Joe’s words made a few people chuckle, including Zach. The laughter was light, airy and nothing like the look that was in Zach’s eyes. The brown orbs glinted with heat and danger. Chris tugged at the collar of his shirt and forced himself not to look away.
“Sit,” Zach said, indicating the stool that was directly behind Chris.
Chris narrowed his eyes and almost made a joke about his name not being Noah but the look in Zach’s eyes killed it before it even got to his tongue. Instead he settled down on the stool, straddling it. He watched as Zach stepped out of reach and moved next to Joe.
“I think we should clear the extra people out of the room,” Zach said. “Chris might be more at ease that way.”
Joe’s eyes darted from his brother to Chris before he nodded. “Take lunch, everyone,” he called out. It took a few minutes for Joe’s staff to clear out, leaving the three of them alone.
Zach was watching Chris closely, eyeing him in a way that could only be described as predatory. If removing everyone from the room was supposed to make this easier it was having the opposite effect. The tension was still there, in fact, it had ratcheted up several ticks in the last few minutes. The only change was what it was composed of. The sense of unease was now replaced with something twisty and sharp in Chris’ belly that pooled low in his gut.
Zach began speaking, commanding Chris, telling him where to move, how to position his arms, to hug himself, to tuck his chin against his chest, lower his eyes. Zach’s voice was demanding but held a silky undercurrent, bittersweet and dark as it oozed around Chris like molten chocolate. It took Chris more than a few heartbeats to adjust to the new dynamic, to accept Zach’s orders without wanting to get off the stool and smack his friend upside the head. Something undefined was happening, taking shape in the space between them, something wanting and wild.
The more Zach spoke, the more Chris let it pervade him, gave himself over to it. The sound vibrated through Chris, hot and thick, turning to lust, making him ache. Zach continued talking to him, teasing and low, intercut by the rhythmic click of the shutter.
Zach instructed Chris to close his eyes which Chris did without challenge. Chris heard footsteps, deliberate and heavy. His cock twitched and his heart stuttered. “Spread your legs for me, Chris,” Zach whispered right against Chris’ ear, breathy and for only him to hear.
Chris complied, opening his legs and straddling the stool widely. Hands pressed against his shoulders, the touch certain and strong as fingers slid down his arms, until he felt the warm pads of Zach’s fingertips push under the thin white cotton of his t-shirt and smooth against his stomach, making him quiver. Zach’s fingers hooked just inside the worn waistband of Chris’ jeans and Chris couldn’t fight the moan the escaped his lips.
“Look at me, Chris,” Zach said.
Chris’ eyes fluttered open and his vision swam a little. Zach stood over him, eyes black with desire, tongue swiping over his lips, leaving them enticingly wet, making the urge to know how Zach tasted almost uncontrollable.
In all the time they’d been friends they’d never come so close to the edge as they did right now. Chris knew that Zach felt the same things he did, felt the crazy, dangerous attraction that thrummed between them every moment they were together. They walked the line and stoked it with deceptively casual touches and flirty little smiles but they never crossed it.
Zach took hold of Chris’ upper arms and dug his fingers in, climbing onto his lap, skating his hands down, holding Chris’ arms in place as he scooted forward so that he was fully seated, chest almost touching Chris’.
Zach bent his head and ran his lips along Chris’ jaw, over his neck. His lips were softer than Chris had imagined they’d be and warm as they slid over his skin until they hovered a breath away from Chris’ mouth.
Chris parted his lips and was about to lean forward, to stamp out the last vestiges of the line they’d held between them for so long, when movement caught his eye and he tried to turn his head. Zach stopped him with a hand on his cheek, gently but sternly turning his head so that all Chris saw was Zach.
“Look at me, Chris,” Zach said. “Forget everything else. It’s just you and me here. Chris and Zach.”
Zach’s fingers practically burned against Chris’ cheek as they skidded down his face. Zach’s other hand came up to mimic the first one, his mouth achingly close. “Are you gonna fucking kiss me or what?” Chris rasped, impatience getting the better of him.
Breathless laughter came from Zach. “Part your lips for me, Chris,” Zach said, his voice whisper-loud now. Chris opened his mouth. “A little less. That’s right; now wet your lower lip a little.”
Chris heart raced, his cock pulsed. “Zach,” he breathed.
“Shh,” Zach murmured, thumb swiping gently over Chris’ lower lip. Chris fell silent again, drowning in Zach’s eyes, in his voice. “Too fucking beautiful,” Zach rasped before their lips finally met.
Chris couldn’t stop the need that surged through him at that first soft touch of skin to skin. It was unfettered and brazen, overtaking his senses as their mouths smashed together, all remnants of control gone for the moment as they pushed their bodies together and reveled in what they had denied themselves for too long.
Zach regained composure before Chris did, methodically and deliberately slowing the kiss down so that at last it was soft and slow. Chris felt like putty, yielding and compliant, allowing Zach to shape him into anything he wanted.
Chris let out a low moan when Zach’s mouth left his. Their foreheads touched and they shared breath as Chris felt his heart rate begin to return to normal. He didn’t try to speak, not trusting his own voice, even though there were a million things he was desperate to say.
Zach broke the silence first. “Relaxed now?”
Zach’s voice was playful and it made Chris laugh. “Relaxed might not be the exact word I’d use,” Chris said.
Zach smirked and his hand drifted between Chris’ thighs, fingertips brushing lightly over the bulge there. Chris’ breath hitched and then caught in his throat when he saw the vulgar look in Zach’s eyes. “You have to finish your shoot,” he said, carefully climbing down from Chris’ lap. Chris opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by Zach’s mouth, soft and sweet against his. “Come by my place later and we’ll finish this, I promise,” he murmured.
“You better mean that,” Chris said in a choked whisper.
“I always mean it,” Zach said, caressing Chris’ jaw line before stepping away and walking over to his brother. “He’s all yours now,” he said, winking over at Chris and then heading in the direction of the door.
Joe shook his head. “You know ninety percent of these pictures are unusable,” he said.
“You’ll get some fit for public consumption. I’ll send your staff back in,” Zach said on his way out the door.
“It seemed so innocent at the time when I asked him to drop by and help you relax,” Joe said.
Chris rubbed the back of his neck and looked over at Joe, a little chagrined. “Sorry.”
Joe laughed. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Just say cheese,” he said, getting behind the camera.
Chris laughed and said ‘cheese’, flashing a big smile for Joe and letting himself truly relax for the first time all day.
~fin~