Fic: Everything Happens For A Reason (And Often It's Alcohol)
Title: Everything Happens For A Reason (And Often It's Alcohol)
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: PG-13
Genre: cracky fluff (yeah I know I'm lame)
Summary: The Pinto Reunion, brought on by their "Fairy Godmother"
Disclaimer: I own neither Chris, nor Zach, nor George Takei (but I want him!) or any of the other characters. This is all true though.
A/N: Un-beta'ed, written quickly and late, but I had to get this out. I'M STILL SHAKING AND CRYING, TOO!
“Oh myyy.“ George Takei sighs as he observes the two young men talking to - well, you can't really call that awkward standing around, nodding and smiling and shrugging here and there a conversation. And it doesn't last very long either before Zach excuses himself and goes to talk to the host of the evening. Leaving Chris to stand there like a puppy someone has abandoned at a dingy highway rest stop.
“What are you looking at, old man?”
George raises his eyebrows and also his chin as he looks at the man now standing next to him (in a much too tight shirt and jacket. Apparently he's not wearing the girdle anymore). “Who are you calling old?”
Bill chuckles and pats George's back as his eyes follow the direction his former co-star had been staring at. “He's looking... a bit... lost.”
“I wouldn't have guessed,” George replies as Chris fidgets slightly, turning there and back with the obvious reluctance to move in either direction. He seems to make up his mind then, turns and bumps into a bowl of chips with his elbow, sending the item to the ground with its contents all over the exquisite carpet. Oh my.
“Any idea... why?”
George turns around to fully face Bill, wondering if he always was this short. Maybe it just seems that way because he's now almost equally wide. “Yes, but it would be futile to attempt to explain it to you as you've never been the, shall I say, quickest on the uptake.”
A mixed expression of amusement and anger appears on Bill's features, making his nose glow slightly red. Such a shame, he was quite handsome those forty-something years ago. “Why don't you... give it a try?”
George sighs and suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “Let me try to explain it with a simple concept you will understand,” he starts, ignoring the somewhat angry glare from Bill's small pig-like eyes (okay, he may be exaggerating a little, but when has he ever been a man of understatement?). He looks over to Chris again who is busy inconspicuously trying to scoop up the mess he has made and nervously glancing around to make sure nobody has seen what a klutz he is. “It seems our little Cinderella here is pining for a certain prince.”
“Huh?”
Yeah. He should have expected that. “Oh Bill, Bill, how did you ever make it this far while being so oblivious to what is going on around you?” George sniggers inwardly, remembering the utterly shocked and surprised look Bill had worn when he had finally, years after most of their other co-stars, had figure out that George was gay.
In confusion, Bill looks back at Chris and from there follows his character's younger actor's gaze to Zach, then back up at George again. “You mean... he... and... “
George empties his glass of South African Cabernet and puts it on the small side table next to him. “While you finish your sentence I will go and put an end to this tragedy.”
For a second, Bill still looks confused, but then a glint of mischief finds its way into his eyes. “What? Are you... their fairy godmother?”
George merely raises his eyebrows as he looks back at Bill, not quite sure if he should feel offended or compliment him on what probably was the best joke he has made in forty years. “Time to spray some fairy dust.”
~*~
Chris has been really flattered when he was invited to Leonard Nimoy's eightieth birthday party, but right now he wishes he had never come here. He has known Zach would be here, and he has been convinced that it would be fine, has even been looking forward to seeing Zach again after such a long time. Ten long months. But right now, ever since their first awkward and just totally weird, brief, impersonal conversation he knows this has been a really stupid and unrealistic illusion. He's not fine, and he's not happy seeing 'an old friend' again. Instead, every fiber of his body is aching with bittersweet, no, just bitter longing at the revived awareness that he's looking at something he cannot have. He tries to smile at the other party guests - thankfully not all of them in Leonard's age; his children, grand children and other extended family members are here as well - but the smiles are no more than half-hearted and he keeps to himself, standing in corners and sipping drinks like someone that accidentally crashes a party full of people he doesn't know at all.
He supposes he could find someone to talk to, but this is one of these really uncomfortable moments in which you don't really feel like socializing with just anyone because you don't even know what to talk about. Probably because all he can think about this entire evening is Zach - how great he looks in his plain black shirt with a matching black and gray striped tie, how warmly his eyes shine when he smiles and how kissable his lips look when he does, too. And... damnit! He has thought he was over him, has accepted that Zach has moved on which he had to learn the hard way ever since Zach has started seeing Glee-Boy (Chris still refuses to even think, let alone utter, his real name).
But clearly, he is not over Zach, and the only thing that makes this evening somewhat endurable is that Glee-Boy with his stupid smile and stupid curly hair is not here tonight. Probably doing some super gay musical again that he enjoys rehearsing for in their bedroom, with Zach lying on his stomach, chin in hands, gazing up at Glee-Boy with stars in his eyes. And why the utter fucking hell is Chris even imagining this?
He needs more alcohol or he'll have to leave this very second. And that would just be rude.
Chris squeezes through a group of elderly people standing in the middle of the spacious living room, and he excuses himself before they can engage him in a conversation as he makes his way towards the bar. And then almost stops dead when he spots Leonard, George and Zach standing right in his way. He briefly ponders turning around again - he cannot bear to face or even talk to Zach again after what was no more than meaningless verbiage earlier - but then sees that all three men are absorbed in their chat, Zach having his back turned towards Chris. As he passes them he stops at the bar and pours himself a big glass of white wine. Not completely out of earshot he catches bits and pieces of their conversation - something about a birthday gift Leonard has gotten - and starts to make his way back to the farthest corner away from them.
Before he stops dead in his tracks once again.
“Oh by the way, I meant to ask you. Where did you leave your new eye-candy, Zach?”
What the fuck? Could they not have chatted on about presents and other insignificant things until he was at least gone? But then again, George, who has asked the question and also briefly caught Chris' eye, clearly can't have known what the words would cause in Chris.
“Oh, well...” Zach gives a low, breathy chuckle as Chris stands rooted to the spot, half of him screaming to run away and the other too curious and also masochistic to do so.
“Jon and I broke up.”
“Oh no! That is such a shame!”
“But George, I told you about this, do you not remember?”
“Oh my, I'm sorry Leonard. I thought you were talking about someone else. I am getting old.”
But the rest of the talk hardly registers with Chris, his thoughts reeling about those five short words Zach has uttered. He can't control his heart beating loudly in his chest, a grin spreading on his lips although he is sure his eyes must be as wide as those of a deer in the headlights. And his fingers, clenching the wineglass firmly, start shaking. He wants to turn around and join them (actually he wants to jump Zach right here and now but that definitely is off the menu), but it would be the most awkward moment to suddenly come budding in and -
“Chris! There you are,” George calls over and waves. There you are? Hasn't he just seen him before? Wow, his short term memory really seems bad. “Come on join us.”
“Oh... um... hi,” he says as he walks up to them, smiling at both Leonard and George but avoiding Zach's gaze, wondering whether he knows Chris has heard that bit.
“Great party,” he says to Leonard and raises his glass to take a large gulp.
“Thank you,” the host replies and now not so fine and mostly gray eyebrow briefly twitches upward.
“Oh, there is someone I wanted to talk to. Leonard, care to join me? And why don't you two catch up a bit in the mean time. Zach might need some cheering up. Here, take this wine, it's fabulous.” And with that, George shoves an almost full bottle of wine in Chris' hand before he disappears between the other party guests, Leonard in his wake.
“So...” Zach looks at him, a slightly crooked smile on his lips before he bites his lower and looks down into his wine glass. “You just heard that?”
Chris takes another large gulp with which he almost empties his glass before he nods. “Oh, yeah. That's... um... really such a shame.”
~*~
The first guests are already filing out, the music in the background now only playing faintly as George steps onto the patio of Leonard's house to get some fresh air - that and lots of water in between will prevent any hangover from the few carefully enjoyed glasses of wine he's had. Of course, that is the only reason he has stepped out, though he is highly pleased when he suddenly hears soft chuckles coming from a group of lawn chairs on the grass. He probably shouldn't spy on other people, but his curiosity gets the better of him as he peers into the semi-darkness.
“Man, how wasted am I?” he hears the slurred voice of no other than Chris, the shapes of the two shadows lying on the recliner confirming his suspicion.
“Apparently wasted enough to finally have the courage to kiss me.” The other voice, Zach's, sounds only slightly more sober.
Chris lets out a giggle. “And waaaay too wasted for anything more.”
“Christopher! You are not seriously suggesting we'd engage in inappropriate...” A sigh and a faint smacking sound of a kiss comes from their direction, “sexual and...” another kiss, “utterly fucking hot activities here in Leonard Nimoy's garden.”
“M'not. But... keep going.”
“Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you? But damn, we can't. And yes, you are way too drunk. And I was thinking if... when I make love to you again you should be at least conscious.”
Chris giggles again and then lets out a long, low sigh. “Mmmh, okay. I think I can wait a little longer. How about tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.” The sound of another kiss. “Oh shit! I'm meeting a friend tomorrow. She's only in town for another day and we planned to have dinner. But... I'm actually quite sure she wouldn't mind if I bring you along. And later we go to your place and do it in every single room of that new house. I hope you do have a fully functioning bed by now, because I plan to do the most delicious things to you. I think I'll start with -”
George decides it is time to give the two love birds some privacy again. He has heard all that he needed to know. Quickly but quietly he makes his way back into the house, almost bumping into Bill on his way in.
“Oh, I see you haven't passed out yet.”
“Very funny,” Bill says and smirks briefly. “Say, have you... seen Chris anywhere? Chris Pine... I mean.”
D'uh, who else? “Why? Do you want to give him some advice for the next Star Trek movie? Because I'm afraid it might end up being a disaster then.”
“No, actually I... never mind. I'll try the kitchen.”
Oblivious as ever, George thinks as he pours himself another glass of water. But at least that makes keeping secrets much easier.
“Fairy Godmother,” he snorts. “You have noooo idea.”
~ The End ~
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: PG-13
Genre: cracky fluff (yeah I know I'm lame)
Summary: The Pinto Reunion, brought on by their "Fairy Godmother"
Disclaimer: I own neither Chris, nor Zach, nor George Takei (but I want him!) or any of the other characters. This is all true though.
A/N: Un-beta'ed, written quickly and late, but I had to get this out. I'M STILL SHAKING AND CRYING, TOO!
“Oh myyy.“ George Takei sighs as he observes the two young men talking to - well, you can't really call that awkward standing around, nodding and smiling and shrugging here and there a conversation. And it doesn't last very long either before Zach excuses himself and goes to talk to the host of the evening. Leaving Chris to stand there like a puppy someone has abandoned at a dingy highway rest stop.
“What are you looking at, old man?”
George raises his eyebrows and also his chin as he looks at the man now standing next to him (in a much too tight shirt and jacket. Apparently he's not wearing the girdle anymore). “Who are you calling old?”
Bill chuckles and pats George's back as his eyes follow the direction his former co-star had been staring at. “He's looking... a bit... lost.”
“I wouldn't have guessed,” George replies as Chris fidgets slightly, turning there and back with the obvious reluctance to move in either direction. He seems to make up his mind then, turns and bumps into a bowl of chips with his elbow, sending the item to the ground with its contents all over the exquisite carpet. Oh my.
“Any idea... why?”
George turns around to fully face Bill, wondering if he always was this short. Maybe it just seems that way because he's now almost equally wide. “Yes, but it would be futile to attempt to explain it to you as you've never been the, shall I say, quickest on the uptake.”
A mixed expression of amusement and anger appears on Bill's features, making his nose glow slightly red. Such a shame, he was quite handsome those forty-something years ago. “Why don't you... give it a try?”
George sighs and suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “Let me try to explain it with a simple concept you will understand,” he starts, ignoring the somewhat angry glare from Bill's small pig-like eyes (okay, he may be exaggerating a little, but when has he ever been a man of understatement?). He looks over to Chris again who is busy inconspicuously trying to scoop up the mess he has made and nervously glancing around to make sure nobody has seen what a klutz he is. “It seems our little Cinderella here is pining for a certain prince.”
“Huh?”
Yeah. He should have expected that. “Oh Bill, Bill, how did you ever make it this far while being so oblivious to what is going on around you?” George sniggers inwardly, remembering the utterly shocked and surprised look Bill had worn when he had finally, years after most of their other co-stars, had figure out that George was gay.
In confusion, Bill looks back at Chris and from there follows his character's younger actor's gaze to Zach, then back up at George again. “You mean... he... and... “
George empties his glass of South African Cabernet and puts it on the small side table next to him. “While you finish your sentence I will go and put an end to this tragedy.”
For a second, Bill still looks confused, but then a glint of mischief finds its way into his eyes. “What? Are you... their fairy godmother?”
George merely raises his eyebrows as he looks back at Bill, not quite sure if he should feel offended or compliment him on what probably was the best joke he has made in forty years. “Time to spray some fairy dust.”
~*~
Chris has been really flattered when he was invited to Leonard Nimoy's eightieth birthday party, but right now he wishes he had never come here. He has known Zach would be here, and he has been convinced that it would be fine, has even been looking forward to seeing Zach again after such a long time. Ten long months. But right now, ever since their first awkward and just totally weird, brief, impersonal conversation he knows this has been a really stupid and unrealistic illusion. He's not fine, and he's not happy seeing 'an old friend' again. Instead, every fiber of his body is aching with bittersweet, no, just bitter longing at the revived awareness that he's looking at something he cannot have. He tries to smile at the other party guests - thankfully not all of them in Leonard's age; his children, grand children and other extended family members are here as well - but the smiles are no more than half-hearted and he keeps to himself, standing in corners and sipping drinks like someone that accidentally crashes a party full of people he doesn't know at all.
He supposes he could find someone to talk to, but this is one of these really uncomfortable moments in which you don't really feel like socializing with just anyone because you don't even know what to talk about. Probably because all he can think about this entire evening is Zach - how great he looks in his plain black shirt with a matching black and gray striped tie, how warmly his eyes shine when he smiles and how kissable his lips look when he does, too. And... damnit! He has thought he was over him, has accepted that Zach has moved on which he had to learn the hard way ever since Zach has started seeing Glee-Boy (Chris still refuses to even think, let alone utter, his real name).
But clearly, he is not over Zach, and the only thing that makes this evening somewhat endurable is that Glee-Boy with his stupid smile and stupid curly hair is not here tonight. Probably doing some super gay musical again that he enjoys rehearsing for in their bedroom, with Zach lying on his stomach, chin in hands, gazing up at Glee-Boy with stars in his eyes. And why the utter fucking hell is Chris even imagining this?
He needs more alcohol or he'll have to leave this very second. And that would just be rude.
Chris squeezes through a group of elderly people standing in the middle of the spacious living room, and he excuses himself before they can engage him in a conversation as he makes his way towards the bar. And then almost stops dead when he spots Leonard, George and Zach standing right in his way. He briefly ponders turning around again - he cannot bear to face or even talk to Zach again after what was no more than meaningless verbiage earlier - but then sees that all three men are absorbed in their chat, Zach having his back turned towards Chris. As he passes them he stops at the bar and pours himself a big glass of white wine. Not completely out of earshot he catches bits and pieces of their conversation - something about a birthday gift Leonard has gotten - and starts to make his way back to the farthest corner away from them.
Before he stops dead in his tracks once again.
“Oh by the way, I meant to ask you. Where did you leave your new eye-candy, Zach?”
What the fuck? Could they not have chatted on about presents and other insignificant things until he was at least gone? But then again, George, who has asked the question and also briefly caught Chris' eye, clearly can't have known what the words would cause in Chris.
“Oh, well...” Zach gives a low, breathy chuckle as Chris stands rooted to the spot, half of him screaming to run away and the other too curious and also masochistic to do so.
“Jon and I broke up.”
“Oh no! That is such a shame!”
“But George, I told you about this, do you not remember?”
“Oh my, I'm sorry Leonard. I thought you were talking about someone else. I am getting old.”
But the rest of the talk hardly registers with Chris, his thoughts reeling about those five short words Zach has uttered. He can't control his heart beating loudly in his chest, a grin spreading on his lips although he is sure his eyes must be as wide as those of a deer in the headlights. And his fingers, clenching the wineglass firmly, start shaking. He wants to turn around and join them (actually he wants to jump Zach right here and now but that definitely is off the menu), but it would be the most awkward moment to suddenly come budding in and -
“Chris! There you are,” George calls over and waves. There you are? Hasn't he just seen him before? Wow, his short term memory really seems bad. “Come on join us.”
“Oh... um... hi,” he says as he walks up to them, smiling at both Leonard and George but avoiding Zach's gaze, wondering whether he knows Chris has heard that bit.
“Great party,” he says to Leonard and raises his glass to take a large gulp.
“Thank you,” the host replies and now not so fine and mostly gray eyebrow briefly twitches upward.
“Oh, there is someone I wanted to talk to. Leonard, care to join me? And why don't you two catch up a bit in the mean time. Zach might need some cheering up. Here, take this wine, it's fabulous.” And with that, George shoves an almost full bottle of wine in Chris' hand before he disappears between the other party guests, Leonard in his wake.
“So...” Zach looks at him, a slightly crooked smile on his lips before he bites his lower and looks down into his wine glass. “You just heard that?”
Chris takes another large gulp with which he almost empties his glass before he nods. “Oh, yeah. That's... um... really such a shame.”
~*~
The first guests are already filing out, the music in the background now only playing faintly as George steps onto the patio of Leonard's house to get some fresh air - that and lots of water in between will prevent any hangover from the few carefully enjoyed glasses of wine he's had. Of course, that is the only reason he has stepped out, though he is highly pleased when he suddenly hears soft chuckles coming from a group of lawn chairs on the grass. He probably shouldn't spy on other people, but his curiosity gets the better of him as he peers into the semi-darkness.
“Man, how wasted am I?” he hears the slurred voice of no other than Chris, the shapes of the two shadows lying on the recliner confirming his suspicion.
“Apparently wasted enough to finally have the courage to kiss me.” The other voice, Zach's, sounds only slightly more sober.
Chris lets out a giggle. “And waaaay too wasted for anything more.”
“Christopher! You are not seriously suggesting we'd engage in inappropriate...” A sigh and a faint smacking sound of a kiss comes from their direction, “sexual and...” another kiss, “utterly fucking hot activities here in Leonard Nimoy's garden.”
“M'not. But... keep going.”
“Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you? But damn, we can't. And yes, you are way too drunk. And I was thinking if... when I make love to you again you should be at least conscious.”
Chris giggles again and then lets out a long, low sigh. “Mmmh, okay. I think I can wait a little longer. How about tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.” The sound of another kiss. “Oh shit! I'm meeting a friend tomorrow. She's only in town for another day and we planned to have dinner. But... I'm actually quite sure she wouldn't mind if I bring you along. And later we go to your place and do it in every single room of that new house. I hope you do have a fully functioning bed by now, because I plan to do the most delicious things to you. I think I'll start with -”
George decides it is time to give the two love birds some privacy again. He has heard all that he needed to know. Quickly but quietly he makes his way back into the house, almost bumping into Bill on his way in.
“Oh, I see you haven't passed out yet.”
“Very funny,” Bill says and smirks briefly. “Say, have you... seen Chris anywhere? Chris Pine... I mean.”
D'uh, who else? “Why? Do you want to give him some advice for the next Star Trek movie? Because I'm afraid it might end up being a disaster then.”
“No, actually I... never mind. I'll try the kitchen.”
Oblivious as ever, George thinks as he pours himself another glass of water. But at least that makes keeping secrets much easier.
“Fairy Godmother,” he snorts. “You have noooo idea.”
~ The End ~