Fic: Heard Melodies
Title: Heard Melodies
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Zach comes home to find Chris playing his guitar.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: Title and quote at the beginning from ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ by John Keats. My shmoopy eruberueth told me to write a fic where Chris played his guitar shirtless and Zach walked in and sexy tiems ensued. Done and done. :P
Word Count: 2421
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.
The air was still warm with the day’s heat, the sun not yet chased from the sky by the silver moon. Zach walked through the gates of his house and had his key in the door when he heard it. Zach couldn’t stop the smile that turned the corners of his mouth. He opened the door long enough to drop his messenger bag inside before locking it again and making the turn around the side of the house, over the cobbled stones, some of which were broken and really needed replacing. He unlocked the low gate that guarded the backyard and walked through quietly, carefully pushing it back in place so it didn’t creak and disturb the gorgeous sound in the background.
Zach took a few more steps and his breath caught at what he saw. Chris was sitting on the edge of a heavy, oak lounge chair, turned away from Zach, wearing only a pair of well worn blue jeans, his bare feet planted on the wooden deck, the neck of his guitar visible as one hand pressed against the frets. Zach found himself wrapping his arms around his own body and holding his breath as a slow, aching melody sang from the strings. Zach dragged his eyes down the line of Chris’ back, seeing the muscles shift under skin he knew was warm and soft to the touch. His gaze moved all the way down, to where the frayed waistband of the denim dipped down, revealing another expanse of skin that Zach ached to feel.
Zach’s eyes drifted back up, studying Chris’ broad, muscled shoulders, the curve of his neck as his head dropped lower and the music shifted in tone, becoming expressive and rich with passion, with raw desire, the chords deeper, the melody resonating through Zach like his heart was the instrument that Chris strummed.
Chris had told Zach that more than acting, more than writing, music freed Chris up. Took him to a place where he found peace, a haven from everything that got to him, everything that had the potential to hurt him. Zach often found Chris playing his guitar in semi-darkness at the end of a hard day. Chris liked to play alone. Not for an audience, not even Zach. Guilt niggled at Zach as he watched from the sidelines, Chris still unaware of his presence.
The music continued to drift through the air as Zach took a few steps closer, moving around so that Chris could see him, so that he was no longer a voyeur to this intimate act. Chris turned his head slightly, eyes lifting as he must have caught Zach in his periphery. His fingers slowed on the strings and the song came to an end as his eyes met Zach’s. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Zach said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself from listening, from watching.”
Chris mouth curled in a knowing smile. “I knew you were there,” he said. “I heard the gate open.”
Zach got a little closer, pulling one of the other chairs over and sitting on it, across from Chris. “I know you like to be alone when you play.”
Chris nodded, fingers moving lightly over the strings, sending a few soft notes into the atmosphere. “I do. It’s easier that way. The music is for me and I don’t have to think about anyone judging it. We spend all our lives being judged, being evaluated. This is my escape from that,” he said.
“I know,” Zach said.
Chris smiled now. “The thing is, you’re the same thing as the guitar for me. When we’re alone, here, at my place, some hotel room in some other country-you’re what I turn to. The thing that pulls me out of those dark places where stress and anger and sadness take over.”
Zach couldn’t speak, didn’t know any words as beautiful as the ones Chris just spoke. Anything that came to mind felt cheap and inadequate. Instead he got up and stepped close to Chris’ lounge chair and sunk to his knees in front of the other man. He ran his hand along the side of his leg, feeling the soft, well worn denim as his fingers stroked up, resting at Chris’ thigh as he slid his other hand alone his lover’s stubbly cheek. Zach leaned forward and was careful of the guitar between them as he brushed their mouths together, sweet and gentle. He looked into the vivid blue of Chris’ eyes. “Should I leave you alone? Let you finish this?” he asked, voice a little uneven.
Chris shook his head. “No. I’d like to play for you. That was for you, anyway. It’s only right you should hear it,” he said.
Zach leaned back so that he was sitting back on his heels, giving Chris enough space to play but still close enough to touch. Chris left hand moved a little lower on the fret board as his other hand slid along the strings, fingers plucking out a hesitant, soulful sound. The notes were dulcet as the melody took shape.
Zach watched Chris’ face, saw his brow furrow, deep crinkles forming against his forehead. Chris’ jaw was set, his mouth a little slack, tongue poking out at random intervals to lick his lips. Chris’ chest rose and fell steadily, legs spread wide, fingers drifting over the strings.
The piece was by no means a perfect composition. It was uneven and experimental and very clearly a work in progress. But that made it only more poignant, only more lovely to Zach. Because what it was, what Chris was strumming out, was the story of them. Their imperfectly beautiful relationship that was ever changing, always evolving into something more than either of them knew possible.
At some point, Zach didn’t know when, Chris began to sing. His voice was as soft as the guitar at first, blending with the music. After several long moments he became louder, his rich voice rising above the notes, the words rumbling through Zach, making his stomach twist, his heart clench, his cock throb.
Zach inched closer, between Chris’ legs, his hand moving over Chris’ thigh, brown eyes meeting blue. Chris’ fingers stuttered on the chords, the melody losing its shape as his breathing became faster. A deep, dissonant chord issued from the guitar as Zach pressed his palm against Chris’ groin. Chris lifted the strap from around his neck and placed the guitar in the open case at the side of the chair before reaching for Zach, dragging him off his knees and pulling him against his chest.
Zach let out a soft sound, hands sliding over Chris’ back, greedily soaking in the warmth of his skin, fingers pushing inside the loose waistband of the jeans to touch that flesh, too. Chris moaned, a sound as exquisite as any that had come from his guitar. Chris tugged on the hem of Zach’s t-shirt and Zach shifted so he could lift his arms, allowing Chris to strip it from his body.
They both straddled the chair, Chris reaching for the buttons of Zach’s jeans as Zach did the same. Zach worked the buttons open one by one before pushing his hand below the soft denim and wrapping his fingers lightly around Chris’ heated flesh. Chris groaned and his hands faltered for a second before he was able to unzip Zach’s jeans and being pushing them down his hips. Zach lifted up and was able to shimmy out of them, kicking them off before settling down against the cushioned oak chaise once more. He leaned forward and pushed Chris back, one hand still tight around Chris’ cock, stroking him, feeling him grow harder and harder as soft whimpers fell from his lover’s lips.
Chris’ fingertips smoothed down the nape of Zach’s neck, the pads were calloused, the rough skin sending little shocks of pleasure through his frame. Chris’ hands slid over Zach’s shoulders, fingers curling around and gripping to hold Zach close. Their mouths met in a languid kiss, tongues caressing.
Zach arched, drawing his hand out of Chris’ jeans and taking hold of the waistband, yanking down and pulling the garment off with a few rough tugs until he could toss them aside. Zach settled between Chris’ spread thighs, his cock rubbing against Chris’. He ran his fingers over Chris’ sides and Chris exhaled. Zach sucked on Chris’ lower lip, fingers stroking over his thighs and then back up, resting at his hips.
Zach pulled Chris down so he was completely flat against the lounge chair and bent him in half, draping his long legs over his shoulders. Zach brought his mouth against Chris’ and kissed him slowly, demandingly. When their lips parted he brought his own fingers into his mouth and wet them before slipping his hand between Chris’ legs. Zach lightly circled Chris’ entrance with one slick finger, teasing him open. When he had one finger inside Chris he kissed his mouth again, just a tender brush of lips to lips as he slowly opened Chris up.
Chris made soft, whisper quiet sounds. They were raw, the opening notes to an ageless refrain. Zach watched the other man’s face, watched as his blue eyes shimmered under the light of newly risen moon. He eased another finger into Chris, moved the two together, scissoring and curling them, listening intently to the keening, eager sounds that came from his lover.
When he had a third finger buried inside Chris the other man bucked his hips; Zach used his free hand to tease Chris’ cock, his thumb swiping over the head, gathering the liquid that leaked from it. Zach brought his thumb to his own lips and flicked it down, moaning as the taste of Chris hit his tongue. “You taste so good,” Zach breathed, pressing his thumb against Chris’ lips and letting Chris taste himself.
Chris shivered and his hips lifted involuntarily. Zach let his fingers drag down the other man’s cheek, along his neck until he rested his palm over Chris’ wildly beating heart. He touched his mouth to Chris’. “Tell me what you want,” he hissed.
Chris pushed up, forcing Zach’s fingers deeper. “You,” was all he said.
Zach kept his eyes fixed on Chris as he withdrew his fingers from he other man's body he spit into his palm and moved his hand over his cock, slicking himself, before pressing himself against Chris. Zach planted one hand against Chris’ hip and thrust, sinking into the other man inch by inch until he filled him completely.
Zach kissed Chris, mouth wet, the pressure light. His hips rocked steadily, keeping the rhythm careful, like the strains of the song he’d walked in on. Zach shifted his hips, altered the pace, changed the melody of Chris’ moans, making them grow richer, sweeter. Zach’s fingers strummed against Chris like Chris was his guitar, his instrument. The right caress, a careful stroke and Zach could cause the most gorgeous sounds imaginable to issue from his lover.
Their bodies melted together, two becoming one, forming a complex harmony that wasn’t flawless but was beautiful and perfectly them. Zach crashed into Chris, rough and deep and wild as the chords unraveled, as their lovemaking lost its easy cadence, their bodies seeking pleasure, seeking fulfillment. Their kisses became desperate, bruising and raw. Zach felt the sting of Chris’ nails digging into his skin and his hips snapped, the tempo violent now. He pushed his hand between their bodies and took hold of Chris, his touch almost cruel, squeezing hard as he jerked Chris’ cock.
Chris shook and let out a sobbing moan as he came, spilling over Zach’s fist, teeth sinking down into Zach’s shoulder. A low growl came from Zach as he thrust artlessly, his mouth latching onto Chris’ neck, sucking and biting at the salty skin as he pumped his hips and finally came, body trembling as he collapsed against the other man.
Their breathing was ragged, their hearts thrumming madly against each other. Zach could feel Chris’ warm lips against the bruised skin of his shoulder, his tongue soothing the bitten flesh. Zach smoothed his fingers along Chris’ neck, down his spine, feeling the bones, pressing into them like they were frets on a guitar.
Chris drew back and looked up into Zach’s eyes. “I should play for you more often if that’s the result,” he said with a lazy, sexy smirk.
Zach smiled too. “Thank you for sharing that. Giving me something so intimate,” he said.
Chris touched Zach’s cheek. “Everything I have is yours. I’m not sure I make that clear enough. I never meant to cut any part of myself off from you.”
Zach shook his head. “We both have and need things that are just our own. I understand it. That’s why seeing you play-having it be for me-it means more than I can properly express in words,” he said.
“You didn’t need words,” Chris said, reaching for Zach’s hand and bringing the knuckles to his lips. “I understood perfectly.”
They kissed again, tenderly, sweetly. The only sounds that could be heard were their mingled breath and the cicadas chirping as the sky went fully black. The heat of the day was gone and the air had a sudden chill. “We should go inside. You can tell me what happened today that had you out here, alone, playing your guitar.”
“I don’t always play because I had a bad day, you know. Today wasn’t bad. I just had that song in my head,” he said. “I came here and I could smell you and feel you and it just came pouring out of me.” Chris smiled and shrugged.
Zach was quiet for a moment and then kissed Chris again, hard and deep, before easing himself out of his body and off the chair. He quickly pulled on his jeans and tossed Chris’ to him so he could do the same. He grabbed his shirt and waited for Chris to close the guitar case. When Chris was upright again he stretched, groaning a little.
“You all right?” Zach asked.
“Yeah. I’m glad you have lounge chairs sturdy enough to fuck on but they’re not exactly comfortable,” he laughed.
Zach snorted. “Next time you’re inspired to play for me maybe you should do it on the couch. Or the bed,” he said with a wink.
“Sounds like a plan,” Chris said, leaning in for another kiss before taking Zach’s hand and leading him inside.
~fin~
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Zach comes home to find Chris playing his guitar.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: Title and quote at the beginning from ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’ by John Keats. My shmoopy eruberueth told me to write a fic where Chris played his guitar shirtless and Zach walked in and sexy tiems ensued. Done and done. :P
Word Count: 2421
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.
The air was still warm with the day’s heat, the sun not yet chased from the sky by the silver moon. Zach walked through the gates of his house and had his key in the door when he heard it. Zach couldn’t stop the smile that turned the corners of his mouth. He opened the door long enough to drop his messenger bag inside before locking it again and making the turn around the side of the house, over the cobbled stones, some of which were broken and really needed replacing. He unlocked the low gate that guarded the backyard and walked through quietly, carefully pushing it back in place so it didn’t creak and disturb the gorgeous sound in the background.
Zach took a few more steps and his breath caught at what he saw. Chris was sitting on the edge of a heavy, oak lounge chair, turned away from Zach, wearing only a pair of well worn blue jeans, his bare feet planted on the wooden deck, the neck of his guitar visible as one hand pressed against the frets. Zach found himself wrapping his arms around his own body and holding his breath as a slow, aching melody sang from the strings. Zach dragged his eyes down the line of Chris’ back, seeing the muscles shift under skin he knew was warm and soft to the touch. His gaze moved all the way down, to where the frayed waistband of the denim dipped down, revealing another expanse of skin that Zach ached to feel.
Zach’s eyes drifted back up, studying Chris’ broad, muscled shoulders, the curve of his neck as his head dropped lower and the music shifted in tone, becoming expressive and rich with passion, with raw desire, the chords deeper, the melody resonating through Zach like his heart was the instrument that Chris strummed.
Chris had told Zach that more than acting, more than writing, music freed Chris up. Took him to a place where he found peace, a haven from everything that got to him, everything that had the potential to hurt him. Zach often found Chris playing his guitar in semi-darkness at the end of a hard day. Chris liked to play alone. Not for an audience, not even Zach. Guilt niggled at Zach as he watched from the sidelines, Chris still unaware of his presence.
The music continued to drift through the air as Zach took a few steps closer, moving around so that Chris could see him, so that he was no longer a voyeur to this intimate act. Chris turned his head slightly, eyes lifting as he must have caught Zach in his periphery. His fingers slowed on the strings and the song came to an end as his eyes met Zach’s. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Zach said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself from listening, from watching.”
Chris mouth curled in a knowing smile. “I knew you were there,” he said. “I heard the gate open.”
Zach got a little closer, pulling one of the other chairs over and sitting on it, across from Chris. “I know you like to be alone when you play.”
Chris nodded, fingers moving lightly over the strings, sending a few soft notes into the atmosphere. “I do. It’s easier that way. The music is for me and I don’t have to think about anyone judging it. We spend all our lives being judged, being evaluated. This is my escape from that,” he said.
“I know,” Zach said.
Chris smiled now. “The thing is, you’re the same thing as the guitar for me. When we’re alone, here, at my place, some hotel room in some other country-you’re what I turn to. The thing that pulls me out of those dark places where stress and anger and sadness take over.”
Zach couldn’t speak, didn’t know any words as beautiful as the ones Chris just spoke. Anything that came to mind felt cheap and inadequate. Instead he got up and stepped close to Chris’ lounge chair and sunk to his knees in front of the other man. He ran his hand along the side of his leg, feeling the soft, well worn denim as his fingers stroked up, resting at Chris’ thigh as he slid his other hand alone his lover’s stubbly cheek. Zach leaned forward and was careful of the guitar between them as he brushed their mouths together, sweet and gentle. He looked into the vivid blue of Chris’ eyes. “Should I leave you alone? Let you finish this?” he asked, voice a little uneven.
Chris shook his head. “No. I’d like to play for you. That was for you, anyway. It’s only right you should hear it,” he said.
Zach leaned back so that he was sitting back on his heels, giving Chris enough space to play but still close enough to touch. Chris left hand moved a little lower on the fret board as his other hand slid along the strings, fingers plucking out a hesitant, soulful sound. The notes were dulcet as the melody took shape.
Zach watched Chris’ face, saw his brow furrow, deep crinkles forming against his forehead. Chris’ jaw was set, his mouth a little slack, tongue poking out at random intervals to lick his lips. Chris’ chest rose and fell steadily, legs spread wide, fingers drifting over the strings.
The piece was by no means a perfect composition. It was uneven and experimental and very clearly a work in progress. But that made it only more poignant, only more lovely to Zach. Because what it was, what Chris was strumming out, was the story of them. Their imperfectly beautiful relationship that was ever changing, always evolving into something more than either of them knew possible.
At some point, Zach didn’t know when, Chris began to sing. His voice was as soft as the guitar at first, blending with the music. After several long moments he became louder, his rich voice rising above the notes, the words rumbling through Zach, making his stomach twist, his heart clench, his cock throb.
Zach inched closer, between Chris’ legs, his hand moving over Chris’ thigh, brown eyes meeting blue. Chris’ fingers stuttered on the chords, the melody losing its shape as his breathing became faster. A deep, dissonant chord issued from the guitar as Zach pressed his palm against Chris’ groin. Chris lifted the strap from around his neck and placed the guitar in the open case at the side of the chair before reaching for Zach, dragging him off his knees and pulling him against his chest.
Zach let out a soft sound, hands sliding over Chris’ back, greedily soaking in the warmth of his skin, fingers pushing inside the loose waistband of the jeans to touch that flesh, too. Chris moaned, a sound as exquisite as any that had come from his guitar. Chris tugged on the hem of Zach’s t-shirt and Zach shifted so he could lift his arms, allowing Chris to strip it from his body.
They both straddled the chair, Chris reaching for the buttons of Zach’s jeans as Zach did the same. Zach worked the buttons open one by one before pushing his hand below the soft denim and wrapping his fingers lightly around Chris’ heated flesh. Chris groaned and his hands faltered for a second before he was able to unzip Zach’s jeans and being pushing them down his hips. Zach lifted up and was able to shimmy out of them, kicking them off before settling down against the cushioned oak chaise once more. He leaned forward and pushed Chris back, one hand still tight around Chris’ cock, stroking him, feeling him grow harder and harder as soft whimpers fell from his lover’s lips.
Chris’ fingertips smoothed down the nape of Zach’s neck, the pads were calloused, the rough skin sending little shocks of pleasure through his frame. Chris’ hands slid over Zach’s shoulders, fingers curling around and gripping to hold Zach close. Their mouths met in a languid kiss, tongues caressing.
Zach arched, drawing his hand out of Chris’ jeans and taking hold of the waistband, yanking down and pulling the garment off with a few rough tugs until he could toss them aside. Zach settled between Chris’ spread thighs, his cock rubbing against Chris’. He ran his fingers over Chris’ sides and Chris exhaled. Zach sucked on Chris’ lower lip, fingers stroking over his thighs and then back up, resting at his hips.
Zach pulled Chris down so he was completely flat against the lounge chair and bent him in half, draping his long legs over his shoulders. Zach brought his mouth against Chris’ and kissed him slowly, demandingly. When their lips parted he brought his own fingers into his mouth and wet them before slipping his hand between Chris’ legs. Zach lightly circled Chris’ entrance with one slick finger, teasing him open. When he had one finger inside Chris he kissed his mouth again, just a tender brush of lips to lips as he slowly opened Chris up.
Chris made soft, whisper quiet sounds. They were raw, the opening notes to an ageless refrain. Zach watched the other man’s face, watched as his blue eyes shimmered under the light of newly risen moon. He eased another finger into Chris, moved the two together, scissoring and curling them, listening intently to the keening, eager sounds that came from his lover.
When he had a third finger buried inside Chris the other man bucked his hips; Zach used his free hand to tease Chris’ cock, his thumb swiping over the head, gathering the liquid that leaked from it. Zach brought his thumb to his own lips and flicked it down, moaning as the taste of Chris hit his tongue. “You taste so good,” Zach breathed, pressing his thumb against Chris’ lips and letting Chris taste himself.
Chris shivered and his hips lifted involuntarily. Zach let his fingers drag down the other man’s cheek, along his neck until he rested his palm over Chris’ wildly beating heart. He touched his mouth to Chris’. “Tell me what you want,” he hissed.
Chris pushed up, forcing Zach’s fingers deeper. “You,” was all he said.
Zach kept his eyes fixed on Chris as he withdrew his fingers from he other man's body he spit into his palm and moved his hand over his cock, slicking himself, before pressing himself against Chris. Zach planted one hand against Chris’ hip and thrust, sinking into the other man inch by inch until he filled him completely.
Zach kissed Chris, mouth wet, the pressure light. His hips rocked steadily, keeping the rhythm careful, like the strains of the song he’d walked in on. Zach shifted his hips, altered the pace, changed the melody of Chris’ moans, making them grow richer, sweeter. Zach’s fingers strummed against Chris like Chris was his guitar, his instrument. The right caress, a careful stroke and Zach could cause the most gorgeous sounds imaginable to issue from his lover.
Their bodies melted together, two becoming one, forming a complex harmony that wasn’t flawless but was beautiful and perfectly them. Zach crashed into Chris, rough and deep and wild as the chords unraveled, as their lovemaking lost its easy cadence, their bodies seeking pleasure, seeking fulfillment. Their kisses became desperate, bruising and raw. Zach felt the sting of Chris’ nails digging into his skin and his hips snapped, the tempo violent now. He pushed his hand between their bodies and took hold of Chris, his touch almost cruel, squeezing hard as he jerked Chris’ cock.
Chris shook and let out a sobbing moan as he came, spilling over Zach’s fist, teeth sinking down into Zach’s shoulder. A low growl came from Zach as he thrust artlessly, his mouth latching onto Chris’ neck, sucking and biting at the salty skin as he pumped his hips and finally came, body trembling as he collapsed against the other man.
Their breathing was ragged, their hearts thrumming madly against each other. Zach could feel Chris’ warm lips against the bruised skin of his shoulder, his tongue soothing the bitten flesh. Zach smoothed his fingers along Chris’ neck, down his spine, feeling the bones, pressing into them like they were frets on a guitar.
Chris drew back and looked up into Zach’s eyes. “I should play for you more often if that’s the result,” he said with a lazy, sexy smirk.
Zach smiled too. “Thank you for sharing that. Giving me something so intimate,” he said.
Chris touched Zach’s cheek. “Everything I have is yours. I’m not sure I make that clear enough. I never meant to cut any part of myself off from you.”
Zach shook his head. “We both have and need things that are just our own. I understand it. That’s why seeing you play-having it be for me-it means more than I can properly express in words,” he said.
“You didn’t need words,” Chris said, reaching for Zach’s hand and bringing the knuckles to his lips. “I understood perfectly.”
They kissed again, tenderly, sweetly. The only sounds that could be heard were their mingled breath and the cicadas chirping as the sky went fully black. The heat of the day was gone and the air had a sudden chill. “We should go inside. You can tell me what happened today that had you out here, alone, playing your guitar.”
“I don’t always play because I had a bad day, you know. Today wasn’t bad. I just had that song in my head,” he said. “I came here and I could smell you and feel you and it just came pouring out of me.” Chris smiled and shrugged.
Zach was quiet for a moment and then kissed Chris again, hard and deep, before easing himself out of his body and off the chair. He quickly pulled on his jeans and tossed Chris’ to him so he could do the same. He grabbed his shirt and waited for Chris to close the guitar case. When Chris was upright again he stretched, groaning a little.
“You all right?” Zach asked.
“Yeah. I’m glad you have lounge chairs sturdy enough to fuck on but they’re not exactly comfortable,” he laughed.
Zach snorted. “Next time you’re inspired to play for me maybe you should do it on the couch. Or the bed,” he said with a wink.
“Sounds like a plan,” Chris said, leaning in for another kiss before taking Zach’s hand and leading him inside.
~fin~