FIC: Behold! Us Wayward Monsters - Act II (Part Two)
Title: Behold! Us Wayward Monsters - Act II (Part Two)
Masterlist: I ( One, Two) | II ( One, Two) | III ( One, Two) | IV ( One, Two)
The following week led to Zach memorizing everyone’s routines-which was to be expected in an ensemble show. The only surprise was that it happened between Tuesday and Friday, not over the course of several months.
For one thing, Louis was relentless. The promised five hours were only the tip of the iceberg. By the time rehearsal was over, Zach usually didn’t have solo time with Joey and John-rather, they turned into Zach, Joey, John, and whatever performer Louis had terrorized that day.
And it was just as well. It gave Zach a chance to make the athletes comfortable with their transitions. Five hours with the group, and then an additional five with each performer, and it was turning into an ideal situation.
Except the crying. When the Chinese had started throwing things, that was rather inconvenient and confusing.
“Okay,” Joey started, then glanced nervously between Zach and Natalia. “From the top. We’re going to start over here-“ Joey motioned to the right of the stage, where Zach would be pushing the end of their canoe out of the metaphorical mud. “You’re supposed to slither from stage-left and over to me.”
Zach walked to his place and tried to hide his smile. It had really been something to see Natalia getting reamed by Louis, regardless of the fact that she was a Cirque veteran, recently off tour from Alegría. She had been equal parts appalled and frustrated, which filled Zach with secret glee.
Too bad that meant extra practice time, though.
“Oof,” Zach said loudly, pretending to strain against the imaginary canoe. In the previous act they had been watching Chris, Karl, and Bruce on a trampoline- supposedly bouncy lily pads-and in the process had run their canoe into sandy ground.
“One, deux, three-yes?” Joey intoned, still inside the canoe and barking his orders. “Hefta, hefta!” he shouted as he banged the sides in protest.
Zach gave him a dirty look, then gave up on pushing. “Wah-wah!” Zach complained, his arms motioning that Joey should get his damn ass out of the canoe to help.
And as they started bickering-with Joey making exaggerated motions of being physically unable to get over the sides-Natalia would sneak up behind them, intrigued by the sight of humans.
In the beginning, Louis had wanted her to encounter Zach and capture his attention. But Zach had changed that around real quick.
It was Joey that turned around and became startled, causing both him and Zach to leap back into the canoe for safety. They would cower and hide inside, until like Bambi and Thumper, the voyagers would realize she meant no harm.
And it all worked, certainly. Natalia could pull off demure and innocent when she wanted to.
From there she skittered around the perimeter, showing both the voyagers her dance and her home. In the actual routine there would be other water nymphs on the side as John sang her song to the orchestra. But for now, Natalia circled an imaginary labyrinth to the center, where a pole would ascend from the floor, but for now stood a wooden stand.
She leapt onto it gracefully, going immediately into a handstand. From there she twisted and turned and maneuvered her body into positions that made Zach wince.
Really, Zach wasn’t sure if his Stretch Armstrong could throw legs over his head like that.
“Wow.”
The whisper caught Zach by surprise, and he turned his head to see Joey agog. They were supposed to act mesmerized, sure, but they were alone in the rehearsal room with Natalia, not in front of an audience. Zach would feign amazement when he had to.
But for now-Zach turned back to Natalia, where she finished by making herself into a living flower bud. Completely encircling the wooden stand, in the act her pole would descend into ground, like a retreating Lady of the Lake.
It would be… nice. It was near the beginning of the show, so it would balance out Zoe’s ballerina/fire-breathing and Chris’ aerial act later on. But right now Zach and Joey’s characters were still be in drunken stupor, easily amazed by everything.
When Natalia straightened herself, Joey burst into a huge grin.
“That was perfect,” he said, enthusiasm unrestrained in his voice. “I think you were more graceful and delicate like Louis said.”
The French Bitch glanced at Zach, but even Zach had to agree. In a nonchalant manner, of course.
“Your movements were way better, smoother,” Zach said, to be specific. “The circling was paced better this time.”
“I’m sure if the other actors were here, it’d be easier,” Joey reassured, but he still looked stupidly proud. “How did you feel about it?”
Zach fought the urge to cover his ears-he was sure at some point he would get used to her butcher block accent, but certainly not soon enough.
“I would like to go again.”
Of course she would. Staying in a room for three hours with Zach was just not enough.
“Maybe we could do some of your other transitions,” Zach offered. Truth be told she had improved immensely, and he doubted another go would result in something different. Besides, the other sections meant he’d have to go out and grab Zoe and Anton, and bearing the French Bitch was better in numbers.
But she glared at Zach. “Again. Please.”
Zach was about to give her a bitchface when Joey turned around, motioning to go back to the imaginary canoe.
“Just one more time, okay?”
Zach rolled his eyes, his irritation at pushing the canoe now turned real.
)O(
But this meant that they eventually reached Chris’ act at the end of the show. Right before the weekend, when everyone was supposed to be enjoying the night off.
No such thing for Chris, of course.
“You want us directly under you?” Joey asked again, for the tenth time. It was a switch-up in routine, and being in the direct line of a performer’s fire was usually a no-no.
But Chris sighed in frustration. “Yes. Yes, I do.” He shared a look with Zach. “Trust me, on this one-I think I have the ‘zing’ that Louis is looking for.”
Louis had been harsh with all of them, but with Chris it had been different. Where Louis had been specific with Natalia, Louis had been nebulous and confusing about what it was that hadn’t worked in Chris’ act.
Naturally that made Chris grumpy as fuck.
“Perhaps we could interact with you more,” Joey said hesitatingly. “We could even build a new transition-“
Chris threw up a begging hand. “Just-just let me show you something, first.” He went to his rope and tugged the length. “Once I’m up there, you guys get into position and start from the beginning.”
Joey exchanged an annoyed glance with Zach, but Zach ignored it. While they had been more communicative with the other performers, in an easy exchange of ideas, Zach knew that Chris came off as closed and separate.
But unlike the rest of them, Zach trusted Chris.
“This once,” Zach said quietly to Joey, then heard Joey grumble as he followed Zach to their pretend canoe.
As imaginary and non-existent as it was, they had started to mime and treat it like a real object. They’d put the invisible canoe away after rehearsals, then the next day get in the mind to pull it out again. A trick they had used for many different acts to keep them in sync and in-tune with their performance.
Zach figured at some point they’d get a real canoe, but so far he hadn’t even seen his costume yet, much less a boat. He could care less about either, anyway.
“Oh, no no,” Joey started with his head in his hands. At this point in the act the voyagers were confused and sobering up, having just witnessed a dance between Eric and Zoe that reminded them of their wives. The lighting would supposedly be changing, reflecting that dusk was around the corner and they were still far, far away from home.
Zach patted Joey’s shoulder in comfort, but Joey still shook his head. During this the canoe moved closer and closer, until finally they drifted under Chris’ rope.
Zach pretended to notice the changing skyline and sighed wistfully. At this moment Chris would start his descent, capturing the voyager’s attention. He was supposed to represent a spirit that brought on the new day, and not only that, show them the way home by flying in that direction off stage.
Zach wondered how they’d visually see Chris to bring on this new act, when he saw Joey glance upward in frustration, and then tugged Zach’s sleeve as he pointed.
“Oh!” Joey said, and Zach followed suit in pointing towards the sky, their fingers following the new flying siren they’ve come across.
But Chris’ act was very similar to before. Maybe it was the change of focus that Chris meant. Their canoe being in the center, as opposed to the left, would bring the voyagers more into the action rather than being mere observers.
Good, good. Zach could see that working for them.
There was a point where Chris would swoop at them, and Chris still did this, causing both voyagers to fall back into the canoe and hide from being swooped upon again.
Except… Chris stopped right above them, dangling high in the air. Joey leaned back on his elbows and tugged Zach’s sleeve excitedly, as if they were witnessing a UFO. Zach also leaned back in awe, a twist of intuition working its way in Zach’s stomach.
“Ah!” Joey yelped as Chris suddenly dropped-falling, falling, falling, right above their heads-into what seemed like an eternity but was really seconds.
Zach clutched his chest as he stared at Chris dangling above them, no more than five feet at most. It had been harrowing and exciting, just like the first time he’d seen Chris do it-only this time Zach thought the rope had broken. It had given him a mild heart attack, but Zach should’ve known better. Chris was perfectly still once again, posed like a teardrop, fingers pointing down.
Joey whispered behind him, “Jesus.”
But Zach knew the invitation when he saw it. This whole time the voyagers had been mere observers-watching acrobats, and contortionists, and fire breathers, and dancers-but now this siren was inviting them to join him.
Zach was slow in getting up-tentative, tentative, hesitant in reaching-and when Zach finally got to his feet there was a flurry of movement.
Chris had climbed up again and was soaring above them, making circles around their canoe. Joey slapped Zach’s arm in sportsmanship, as if Zach had almost caught the big one.
After Chris’ five circles, he faced towards them, tumbling down, fingers beckoning to stage left-and then out. Chris had flown completely out of sight.
Zach and Joey stared at each other, and Zach wondered if they were continuing the act or actually showing their amazement. But as they had previously planned, Joey made the motion of the canoeing moving forward-counter-clockwise around the stage-until their canoe also exited stage left.
By that time Chris had left his rope and stood far off the mat, waiting for their reactions. He looked like a little boy with a homemade gift, wondering if it had been good enough, liked enough-his hands bunched together, tugging at his knuckles.
Zach didn’t have to tell him, for Joey burst into a wide grin.
“That was crazy,” Joey practically yelled, then reached forward to pat Chris’ shoulder. “Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me!”
Joey was manhandling Chris with a hug and a jump of excitement. The confused look on Chris’ face was adorable, especially as Joey kept babbling on, unable to help himself.
“Fuck, I thought something had broke and you were killing yourself!” Joey had stepped back, a hand on his heart. “God, you’re going to freak out the audience.”
Chris gave a small smile of acceptance, as if still trying to figure out whether this was a good thing. When he glanced over at Zach the expression hadn’t changed, in fact became more guarded as he waited for Zach to respond.
Zach hoped his grin was wide enough. “Dude, that sent goosebumps up my arms.”
Chris had started to gnaw on his lower lip-when had Zach’s opinion mattered so much to him? Then again, he had gotten bent out-of-shape over Louis, so perhaps it was the same with everyone.
“That totally needs to stay.” Zach reached forward for a reassuring pat on the arm. “I can’t imagine anything better than that-it was fucking fantastic.”
At that Chris finally grinned, teeth showing as he beamed with pride. “Yeah? You really think so?”
But by then Joey and Zach were exchanging high-fives in congratulations-this was an ending that would knock everything out of the park. No matter what Louis said, Zach would fight to have that remain in their act.
“You’re a genius, Chris.” Joey held up his hand, and Chris returned the high-five. “I’m sorry I put up a fuss, you were totally right.”
“I told you,” Zach said in admonishment, but instead he was looking at Chris, who was keenly looking at him.
It wasn’t awkward-nope. Looking at Chris was the most natural thing in the world. He was just another dude Zach was working with, no sweat.
So why did it feel strange, all the sudden?
“Hey man, give me a high-five.” Zach held up his hand, feeling as if the seconds had ticked by too long. A nervous twist was at the bottom of his stomach, as if Zach had just made a complete fool of himself.
He hadn’t. Right? They were just standing in a room, congratulating each other. And fuck anyone that thought that was weird-they were guys. Friends. Casual pats on the back.
Chris met his palm easily, but instead of pulling away he curled his fingers inward. Before Zach knew it, Chris was giving him a one-arm hug.
“Zach met me halfway.” Chris squeezed tight, and then let go just as quickly. “It wouldn’t have worked if he hadn’t tried to reach out.”
Zach felt his mouth go dry. Chris had been incredibly warm-they had hugged before, right? Chris was a hugger. He had hugged other people at the Cirque, surely. Totally not a hugging virgin.
Zach looked over at Joey, who was grinning like a fool.
“Zach certainly has instincts,” Joey said, then bit his lip in amusement.
He could only stare at Joey-what the fuck was that look? Either Joey was having a seizure, or his supposed-to-be-slight head tilts and eye gestures meant something.
Zach was not going to contemplate it. Was not going to contemplate how the wink wink, nudge nudge usually did mean I’ll spend the night somewhere else.
“Um-hey.” Zach ran a hand through his hair and turned towards the clock. “Let’s break for dinner or something, yeah? I’m starved. In fact-it’s totally the weekend. What the fuck are we doing? We should be out partying or something!”
Zach laughed uneasily for the first time in his life. Why was he nervous? He should totally not be nervous. There was nothing nerve-inducing about this situation. Zach loved performing, and Chris had finally aced the ending of their show. They completely had this in the bag.
Chris shrugged in acceptance. “Sure. Want something in the cafeteria? Or we could go-“
“Actually, you know what? Not feeling well.” Zach touched his stomach and feigned a wince, then backtracked to the door. “Late nights and all that. Catch you later?”
He had meant to say that to Joey, but all he could do was stare at Chris-stare at Chris as he frowned in confusion.
Zach needed a moment.
“Later!”
“Hey, Zach-“
But Zach closed the door on Joey’s voice, making a mad dash to the fresh air and the night sky and all the things that weren’t that performance room.
He had walked to the statue in front of the IKEA building without realization, a block down the street from the front of headquarters. Zach stared at the strange sculpture in the dark-a wire mess of a human being as it back-flipped in the air, the copper coils catching a few errant beams of streetlight.
Zach felt out of breath, and it was ridiculous. It was like that moment of being in his grandma’s basement, then remembering to fear the monster under the stairs. He’d dash to the top landing, not daring to look back, afraid that whatever had spooked him was just waiting at the turn of his head.
“Ugh,” Zach said to no one in particular. The area was quiet, and Zach was sure that whoever was in the nearest apartment had likely heard him.
He walked quickly to the entrance and pulled the handle, relieved for the distraction of showing his badge.
“Early night?” the security guard absently asked, not really listening for an answer.
Zach only nodded, then darted towards the flight of white railings. Maybe if he dashed towards his room and did not look back, these feelings would be squashed behind that fancy glass door.
)O(
“So, do you think Natalia needs to rehearse some more?”
Zach was in their apartment kitchen, fixing a new cup of coffee. Not enough cream, not enough sugar-apparently the cafeteria coffee was superior to something.
Joey leaned against the counter, shirtless with his sweats, and sleepily rubbed his head. “Huh?”
“You know, rehearse. Go over things. I could see if Zoe and Anton are free-“
“Dude, it’s the weekend.” Joey shook his head, looking at Zach like he’d grown a third head. “Nat and I have plans.”
Zach nodded slowly, new thoughts and directions occurring to him. “That’s cool. Where to?”
“Not where you’re invited.”
Zach pouted as Joey left the kitchen. He mumbled into his coffee cup, “Wasn’t asking, jerkface.”
“You know, if you’re really keen on avoiding Chris-“
Zach made a face as he rounded the partition to the kitchen, looking at Joey crossly. “What the fuck? I’m not.”
“John is rehearsing his music today.” Joey grabbed a shirt from a chair and tugged it over his head. “He probably wants the company.” Joey gave him a look as he tossed a different shirt in Zach’s direction. “Although I think you’re being stupid.”
“You’re stupid,” Zach muttered under his breath, the cotton zebra shirt comforting and baggy. “But whatever, man. Have fun.”
Zach toed on his flip-flops at the door, not giving a damn how he looked. He had showered and thrown on clean underwear, and that was the most humanity could expect from him today. Tired, bored, confused-mostly tired-Zach just wanted to lounge and mope in some busy corner, ignored by the rest of the world.
Zach made it an adventure to find the music studios in headquarters. For one, they were in an entirely different direction than the gym-good, good, that was good. Second, all the signs had English, French, and then Braille, and Zach put his fingers on all of them.
He wasn’t sure he could get in once he reached the right floor, but strangely it was vacant and quiet, for the most part.
Zach glanced through a tiny window in the first studio door, and saw that John had stolen the room for himself. If Zach were in his shoes, he could see himself doing the same. At this point John had only seen the music for a week, yet was expected to have the nonsensical lyrics down pat by Monday for group practice.
Considering the lyrics weren’t even a real language, but Cirque-ish? Zach wished him all the luck in the world.
As Zach tried to quietly open the door, a red light and buzzer went off. So much for being stealthy.
John bit off the word he was singing to glance at Zach, then beckoned him inward. The small studio was black and soundproof and everything Zach would expect, including the fuzzy microphone that John had been singing into.
John shuffled sheet music as Zach found a chair. His sigh was the loudest thing Zach had heard in an hour.
“This is not what they told me.” John threw down the music in frustration. “Ambient? Maybe if everyone in Rio was doing the samba in a catatonic state.”
Zach made a face. “How could you do the samba in a catatonic state…?”
John waved him off. “It reminds me of the Amazon. Who the fuck’s idea was it to make me sing like… like...” John gave a middle finger to the sheet music. “I’m not Enrique Iglesias, man.”
“Yeah, you don’t have the same bedroom eyes.”
John gave him a dirty look.
“Try it for me. I mean-we’re supposed to be French voyagers, right? It can’t really sound like the Amazon.”
John straightened his music on a stand. “Well, it’s kind of dreamy in parts. But it has this undercurrent of rhythm to it that’s a little too… upbeat?”
Zach sighed. “Dude, you’ve heard the theme for Alegría, right?” It was the Cirque’s most famous song, so Zach didn’t really doubt it.
John considered it a moment, then, “Well… yeah?”
“It’s about how life is fucking painful, but it’s like, painful beauty-and that’s upbeat.” And then, when Zach thought about it, “I guess that one does sounds like a catatonic samba, actually.”
“They all have that Cirque sound to them.”
“The catatonic samba sound.”
John put his face in his hands. “Nobody knows what the fuck I mean.”
“Just sing, dude.” Zach had made himself comfy on a small bench, and fortunately there was even a pillow to clutch. “They hired you because you’re obviously what they want. They wouldn’t give you material that didn’t match your voice.”
John had no answer for that, instead readying himself for the music. He gave a side-glance to Zach. “There’s a CD player to your left.”
Zach looked, and sure enough there was. He sat up and let his finger hover over the right button. “Yeah?”
John nodded, and Zach pressed play for the music to roll.
It took an hour to go through the whole set, but it was an hour well-spent. For one thing, Zach had been trying to imagine the music for ages. It did come off as a bit tropical to him, but mostly that was during the middle, when the sirens came out to play. Of course things would sound more exciting, then.
It made Zach wonder when the music had been written. It was suspenseful for Natalia’s contortionist bit, and hyper and rollicking for the Chinese acrobats. Zach could envisage each act clearly in his mind as the music played-even for Chris’ aerial dive there was a lull, he assumed for the moment when Chris lured and swooped at them, heightening for drama.
It was good world music, actually. Pure Moods quality.
“Well?’ John asked when he was done, taking a long sip of water from a clear bottle.
Zach gave his most assuring smile. “You were great, man.”
“Shut up.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “I don’t tell people they’re great unless I mean it.” A moment of confrontation with Chris came to mind, and Zach mentally shoved it away. “Your voice is unexpected. Rough like I thought, but… you know how the sandman is taunting and trickster, right?”
“You want me to be more playful?”
“Yeah, why not?” To Zach, the music currently lacked personality. While John could hit all the notes-some high and soft, others mellow and lilting, to Zach’s surprise-it was all rote and flat. “Pretend you’re a sadistic bastard luring Joey and I to the dark side.”
John wrote something down in the columns. “I’ve been trying to memorize things first, but I could do that.”
“Pretend you have a sense of humor, man.”
John looked at him blankly. “I have a sense of humor?”
Zach threw his pillow, and John deflected it with his hand.
“Do you know what the words mean?” It had all sounded gibberish to Zach, with various phrases that sounded like Spanish, French, and perhaps slurred and drunken English. “That could help with things.”
“Yeah. I have a sort of… translation guide?” John ruffled through his papers, finally producing one and handing it to Zach. “There’s not a lot of real words, but in the main theme it’s about enjoying life and seizing what you want.”
The main theme was reminiscent of a music box, innocent and simple, that precipice of feeling before falling over an edge. It reminded Zach of the theme from Quidam-perhaps that was why he had received the DVD in his itinerary folder.
“Mostly I chant things, repeating shit over and over.” John quirked a lip. “Guess that makes it easier to remember.”
“Along with all your acting cues.”
John ticked a finger. “Remind me when I’m getting my other singer, again?”
“Never.” That had actually been revealed a month ago, much to John’s dismay.
“Why are they not paying me more?”
Zach shrugged. “Because you have me?”
“My new life guru, I guess.” John gave him a small smile. “Thanks, man. I was about to storm out of here a while ago.”
“God, don’t. You’re the only one not annoying me right now.”
“What did Chris do?” After looking at Zach’s face, John backtracked. “I mean-who’s bugging you?”
Zach huffed. “I’m bugging me.”
“Well, you’re an annoying shit.”
“Just irritated for no reason, that’s all.”
John seemed to have no comment on the matter. He took another drink from his water bottle, then hedged with, “Maybe hanging with Chris a while will help things?”
Zach made a face. “What the fuck? Everyone thinks that I should just go hang out with Chris.”
“You are kind of joined at the hip.”
“Am not.” Although Zach had to admit they did hang out frequently. During lunches, at least. Sat together at Poker, sometimes together at breakfast and dinner. There was also the time that Chris had watched the Quidam DVD in Zach’s suite. “We’re not together all the time.”
“So you’re not sleeping together, yet?”
Zach gaped at him, saw that John had said this as nonchalantly as the sky being blue. He even took another drink of water without choking, unfortunately.
“What-what the fuck?” Zach looked around the room desperately, like there would be hidden cameras, or Joey, or even Chris to ambush him on the joke. “That hasn’t even crossed my mind!”
But now it did.
“Fuck you, John.”
Chris would probably look stupidly good naked. With all his muscles and the years of training his body, there was probably not an ounce of body fat. His ass, though… maybe just in his ass.
Zach jumped from his seat and started pacing the room. “Fuck this.”
John held up his hands in defense. “I’m sorry if your subconscious has yet to inform you that you’d really like to tap that.”
Zach stopped pacing long enough to scowl and angrily wave a hand. “I don’t.”
“Well, if you don’t, then your body language has been saying something else entirely.”
Zach continued to scowl in disbelief. “Pretty sure I have full control over my body, thanks.”
“Well, then your body is sending the wrong signals, because I’m pretty sure that Chris thinks you want to fuck him.” John leaned back and crossed his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck him? I mean, I’d even fuck him, and I don’t even like dudes-“
Zach threw up his hands, glaring in exasperation at the ceiling. “I don’t know! I guess he’s hot.”
He had fabulous arms, actually. The blue eyes were also a nice touch.
Zach frowned. “What makes you think I like him?”
“What? Really?” John took a moment to consider. “Well, you laugh at all of his jokes.”
“Somebody has to, since they’re not funny.”
“You guys always seem to reconnect after things. Like rehearsals, lunch, going out-“
“Because we’re friends.” Zach waved a hand at him. “I reconnect with you.”
“Yeah, but you bounce all of your ideas off Chris.”
“No I don’t.”
“And Joe.” John casted his gaze downward in thought for a moment. “Actually, you spend a lot of time with Joe-“
“See! That doesn’t mean-“
“But maybe even more with Chris.”
“I do not.”
Yes, yes he did. A great deal. Maybe a bit too much. So much so that Chris asking Zach to dinner last night had not even been the strangest part-far from it.
Zach clenched his jaw, staring off to the side at random furniture and walls and windows and just anywhere but his feet. It all felt incredibly awful and wrong. He liked Chris a lot as a person, but Chris was nerdy and thoughtful and goody-goody and maybe too kind. Definitely too kind.
“Dude, are you brooding?”
Zach turned to John and made a mocking face, but John only laughed.
“Just go talk to Chris already.” John turned back to his sheet music. “I’m supposed to be jaunty and upbeat here, not dealing with boy drama.”
Zach held up his hands in offended disbelief. “Fine, whatever.”
“See you later,” John said as Zach closed the door on him-to all of that conversation, whatever the fuck it had been.
)O(
Not that shutting the door had helped much. It still meant the world was out there, and Chris was wandering around in it. And as much as Zach knew that Chris wasn’t actually the problem, he was acting like a freak around his friend. He usually only chose to do that in private, with the excuse of alcohol.
“That’s a good idea,” Zach muttered to himself while waiting in line at the gas station. Since the cafeteria had a high probability rate of all the things he wanted to avoid, he had chosen a snack run for holing himself in his apartment. Zach would stay in his suite and watch stupid Canadian TV all weekend, then hopefully be back to normal by Monday.
It almost worked. Perhaps would’ve worked, if by evening Chris hadn’t come around.
Damn glass doors.
“Um.” Chris stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking at Zach’s blanket draped haphazardly like a toga. “You’re still sick?”
“The worst.” Zach hoped he looks disheveled and dirty and unappealing. “Probably contagious as all hell. You should totally not come in here.”
Chris didn’t seem put off in the slightest. “Do you need me to get you anything? I know Joe is hanging with Nat-“
“Nah, I got all I need. Thanks!”
Zach went to shut the door, but Chris put in a hand to block him.
“Actually, I came by because-um-there’s a movie on TV.” Chris shrugged sheepishly. “I was wondering if you’d want some company?”
Zach really didn’t, and yet he desperately did. It was like a mixed bag of wanting to barf and being unable to.
“As long as you don’t mind me stealing the couch.” Zach stepped to the side, against his better judgment, and let Chris inside.
Really, he couldn’t avoid Chris forever. And besides-what was there to avoid? He didn’t want to fuck Chris. That was the end of it. Awkwardness solved.
Chris looked pretty happy with the exchange, anyway. Perhaps John had it all wrong-maybe Chris was the one who wanted to fuck him. Projecting feelings, or some shit-it had been on an episode of Loveline once, he knew that. Chris was obviously telling everyone that Zach liked him when it was completely the reverse.
And yet, Chris was at ease as he walked into Zach’s suite. Shouldn’t lovelorn fools be anxious? Jumpy? Nervous about everything that was said?
“Where’s your remote?”
Zach felt around him on the couch, then went to casually grab it from the coffee table. Except it slid across the surface, fell into his hand, slipped across his wrist, down to the floor, down to under the couch-
“Fuck me,” Zach whined. He shoved his entire arm under the couch, angling himself to the point where he eventually fell to the ground with a huge thud.
Zach wanted to murder someone. He looked up at Chris, who was still frozen in the same spot of looking for the remote.
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay?” Zach struggled to get up, resisting the urge to pound the coffee table. Everything fucking sucked.
Chris came over to help, but before he could touch any unsuspecting body part, Zach scrambled.
Wow. Smooth.
“Um, I can get the remote.” Chris ducked to look under the couch and retrieved it easily. “You just… not move.”
Zach sat in the corner of couch and tucked his knees to his chest. He would’ve draped his arms around them, but then his hands would’ve had to awkwardly clasp in front of his knees for a while, and frankly, Zach didn’t need help with awkward.
It was a foreboding feeling as he watched Chris stand in front of the TV, channel surfing. While Chris could stand decently on both of his legs, he was shit at picking a channel. French, some English, and some Telemundo flipped rapidly by.
“Ah-here we go.” Chris backtracked to the couch and sat where Zach’s legs had been. “This is one of my favorites.”
It took Zach a moment, but eventually Ray Liotta appeared on screen and Zach recognized Goodfellas. Not a bad movie at all.
“Have you seen this one?”
Zach wondered if his awkwardness applied to speaking. “Yeah.”
And that was it. Yeah. Chris sat away from him on the other end of the couch, watching the movie, while Zach was getting stiff-legged and increasingly paranoid.
Maybe if he were horizontal he’d fall asleep, and then Chris would feel obligated to leave.
Chris turned his head. “Do you want to stretch out your legs? You can put your feet on my lap.”
God. Chris had said that with no hint of anything on his face-what an asshole.
Instead Zach punched his pillow and slid down, tucking up his knees to shorten himself. But still, the bottoms of his feet touched Chris’ thigh, and that was the beginning of a whole new complication.
Chris was so warm, even through socks. His skin was probably an inferno. Was he a calorie-burning machine, or what? Humans should combust at that rate. But he’d probably feel good around his cock.
Zach shut his eyes tight. Maybe if he started thinking about Ma naked, he’d be able to survive the movie.
“Are you in pain?”
“No, I’m just-“ Zach pulled the covers up to his chin. “Nothing.”
Chris huffed loudly and Zach didn’t want to turn his head, knowing Chris was still looking at him.
“Wow, you have the biggest bug up your ass right now.”
Zach narrowed his eyes at him. “Whatever, I’m sick. I get irritable when sick.”
“Do you become an asshole when sick, too?”
“Gee, I don’t know-have you met me? I think that’s my de facto state.”
Zach turned back to the movie, but he could feel Chris shifting at the end of the couch.
“Normally I can figure out why you’re an asshole, though.”
“Well, I’ll solve that mystery for you: I just am.”
Zach was going to hide under the covers again, but instead his irritation had hit its peak. He threw off his blankets, standing up too quickly and almost falling over. But he was able to look down at Chris, see that Chris was eyeing him skeptically.
Not only was Chris getting on his nerves, but he was trying some psychology bullshit, no doubt. His eyes spoke of hidden theories and reasonable solutions, and Zach was not going to put up with that.
“Don’t pull your Psychology major shit on me.”
Chris blinked in confusion. “Um, I didn’t major in Psychology?”
Zach still stood indignantly, but he had no answer for that one. “Oh.”
Another awkward moment. Chris kept staring at him, despite the best part of Goodfellas on TV. Ray Liotta was pistol-whipping the shit out of Edie Falco’s neighbor, and all Chris could do was look at Zach.
That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all.
“Okay-you know what? I’m weird.” Zach rubbed his forehead, then tried to laugh. “Sorry. I’m just… going through shit?”
At that Chris’ expression softened. That was possibly the worse thing, for Chris looked sympathetic. He not only looked kind and understanding, but was standing up in kindness and understanding.
Zach backed up. “So let’s forget all of this, yeah? Let’s just watch the movie.” He walked backwards to the partition of the kitchen and peeked around the corner. “You want something to drink? I bought some badass lemonade.”
Zach still had his hand on the wall as Chris came even closer, his eyes watching Zach like he was a startled deer. Now that was too much.
“Stop.” Zach put up a hand, looking at the ground. “Just stop right there.”
Chris did as he was told, his white-socked feet only mere inches from Zach’s bare ones. It made Zach’s heart ratchet up in his chest, unable to count his own breaths.
He was going to hyperventilate for no damn reason. The world had suddenly turned to shit.
“What’s going on?” It was soft, quiet. “You’re different now.”
Zach felt heady as he looked up. Out of all the times he had slept with someone, none of them had felt like this. He had always been in charge from the start, knowing exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it. He could deal with being painfully aroused, or led on, or somebody teasing him before Zach bent them over.
He took a deep breath-Zach never slept with his friends. He never remained friends with people he slept with.
“I don’t want to do anything stupid.” Zach wetted his lips. “I’m kind of a stupid guy.”
Chris’ eyes followed the action, but he said flippantly, “I doubt it. You practically just wrote Eclipse and managed to make the Cirque feel like it was their idea.” He stepped closer and put a hand on the kitchen partition. “You might actually be the smartest bastard I know.”
Zach felt the motion burst from him. It took nothing at all to dart a hand to Chris’ neck and pull him closer, mouths smacking together in something blunt and forceful. It felt good to just touch lips, to feel Chris’ body that close to his, but then Chris had to grip his waist and open his mouth and everything fell overboard.
Chris had backed him up to the kitchen table, with Zach’s legs apart as Chris leaned into him, dominating all his space.
That woke Zach up and he wrenched his mouth away. “Fuck, no-sorry, goddamn. Shit.”
Chris stopped, but he was speaking in harsh whispers. “How many other swear words do you know?”
“Motherfucker.” Zach pulled Chris’ head down to his neck, and Chris happily licked his pulse, biting at the crux of his shoulder. “You son of a bitch.”
“How about cocksucker?”
Chris’ hand skimmed the inseam of Zach’s sweats, and Zach squirmed.
“Not a fan.”
“Of cocksucker?” Chris raised his brows, leaning back a bit. “Really? You sure?”
Zach threw up his hands. “I don’t want to do this!”
Chris stepped back reluctantly as Zach hopped off the table, trying to gain some distance. Zach pulled up his sweatpants, but he knew they hid nothing, anyway. His best bet was to get Chris to leave the apartment.
But when Zach turned back around, he knew it was virtually impossible. Instead of Chris looking pissed, or rejected, or even in pain, he looked every bit the concerned gentleman.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?”
Chris tilted his head “And you’re an arrogant asshole.” He held up his hand, as if to tick off items. “I think that covers most swear words. There’s a few other ones, but I’m trying to be a good feminist, so I‘d like not to use those.”
Zach squinted. “What?”
“Berkeley, you know.” Chris quirked a lip. “My first week as an English major culminated in smoking pot, doing beer pong, and being schooled by a group of Women’s Studies majors.”
Zach was too caught on the first part. “You did pot?” And his mouth worked before his brain. “Did you have a pet tiger?”
Chris narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Nevermind-but you actually smoked and inhaled, right?
“Just that once. Was too paranoid the month after, wondering if my athletic program was going to do a random drug test.” Chris sighed dramatically. “So, you know, I’m just not some random risk-taker. I wouldn’t kiss one of my friends if I didn’t think it could turn into something really, really good.”
Zach swallowed. “Have you done that before?”
Chris pretended to think about it, but shook his head. “Nope. You’re the first.”
There was something stupidly alluring about it. But most of all he liked Chris’ eyes, the way his gaze drenched Zach’s skin in wanting just way too much. If Zach pushed it any further, he suspected he’d be lying down with legs spread far apart on the couch.
“I haven’t, either.”
Chris gave him a full-body glance. “Obviously.”
The action set off wheels in Zach’s head. There was Chris, standing before him-hands on hips, skeptical expression, head held high and confident. Zach started to wonder where shy, nerdy Chris had gone; the guy who had used The Hobbit as a barrier to start conversation.
“You’re different.”
Chris raised his brows. “Are you sure?”
Zach frowned-maybe not. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Chris had talked to everybody without coaxing. Not only that, he was self-assured in how he handled himself-in his routine, his practices, and how he was capable in his athletics. When Guy Laliberté had called him Okay, Chris had brooded, not sobbed in a corner
Zach narrowed his eyes. Maybe Chris wasn’t shy-maybe he was aloof and arrogant.
“You’re an asshole.”
Chris made a sound from the back of his throat. “If knowing what I want is being an asshole, so be it.”
“No, like-really.” Zach stood up, pointing a finger at Chris. “Look at you, right now. You’re being a cocky asshole. You came into my apartment not even knowing what was on TV, did you?”
“That’s wasn’t obvious?”
“Argh,” Zach yelled in frustration and started to pace his living room. “This is all because you hugged me!”
Chris smirked. “I know.”
“Why the fuck did you hug me?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Chris huffed a laugh and answered it anyway. “Because you needed to take the hint.”
Zach glanced up at Chris, expecting an arrogant look like before-but instead it was plainly wistful. If someone had created a visual dictionary of such things, Chris’ sad expression would be picture perfect.
It was aggravating. “You don’t need to act.” And Zach was finally able to qualify it, to understand why the whole situation bugged him. “You’re a manipulative asshole-right down to abusing Goodfellas.”
Zach turned towards the TV, where Ray Liotta was having a great time in prison. It gave him an urge to kick in the screen.
“In fact-how long have you been maneuvering events?” Zach tried to think of another likely scenario. “You didn’t really need to borrow my spork the other night, did you?”
Chris looked at him strangely, a side-glance of confusion. “Or… I just really needed a utensil that could pierce and scoop at the same time?”
“See, see! Asshole.”
“You might be giving me too much credit.” Chris’ shoulders dropped, as if disappointment had finally set in. Maybe this hadn’t gone to plan. “I’m really not that smart, honestly.”
“No, no-you gave me a crisis, man.” Zach framed his head with his hands as he said it, then flicked them angrily at Chris. “You might be the smartest bastard I know.”
But Chris was entirely too calm. Strike number three against him: Zach couldn’t fucking fight with Chris, and all the nerves wound and twisted in Zach’s body, begging for release. Why didn’t Chris just yell like a normal person? Stalk around and have a temper tantrum if he was actually that sad.
But Chris glanced up slowly-blue eyes earnest, soft, pleading-and Zach would not take any declarations. They would be ridiculous.
“Just for the record, I would rather be licking your asshole instead of calling you one.”
Zach made a face. “What? That’s your line? The one that’s supposed to get me into bed?” Although a tantalizing option, Zach was still too irritated.
Chris looked off to the side and pursed his lips. “Yeah-yeah, I thought that would actually do it.”
Zach snorted. “Well then, goodnight.”
And in Zach’s head, he saw himself storming off down the hall, huffing dramatically as he slammed his bedroom door. He’d be sitting on his bed, throwing a pillow at the wall, and then waiting for the sound of the glass door to shut behind Chris Pine’s ass.
Instead, Zach just stood there. Hands at his sides as Chris stared silently back. It should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t, with Chris’ body turned to the side. If anything, Chris noticeably lost his cocky swagger, his head bent down as he looked at his hands, his fingers, or maybe his feet.
“All right, I’ll go. Goodnight, Zach.”
But Chris didn’t move, either. Maybe there was something in the ground that nailed both of them there, and Zach wondered what would be the remedy.
Apparently it was Chris finally shifting a foot, for Zach reached out and grabbed Chris by the arm. He didn’t even need to tug as Chris turned around and smashed into Zach, taking his kiss by force. Mouths open, breaths departed, Zach felt his hip grace the living room wall, then the palm of his hand as he rolled on top of Chris, realizing that he had backed them into the hallway.
Chris’ eyes were closed, enjoying the sensations, but Zach watched him carefully. Listened as his breathing quickened, his body angled off the wall to get closer, ever closer. Chris fisted the back of Zach’s shirt, tightening into a full body embrace.
Chris really wanted him. It wasn’t just flattering, but smacked around the organ thumping wildly in his chest.
“God, stop thinking.”
The hands on Zach’s back moved down to his ass, and before Zach knew it he was pressed against the wall, Chris’ hands gripping and maneuvering Zach’s legs around his waist.
Fuck, it was hot, and Zach attempted to grind his hips. He wanted to say he fucking loved gymnasts, but then Chris lifted him from the wall and spun him around.
“Ah!” Zach had never been carried before, and when Chris dropped him unceremoniously onto the bed, Zach was still in shock.
Chris threw off his t-shirt, grinning down at him like an idiot. “Yeah? You liked that?”
Zach sat up and tugged at Chris’ belt. “Liked it?” He made short work of Chris’ zipper, and in too slow of seconds had Chris’ hard cock in his hands. “Fuck.”
Zach flattened his tongue against the head, enjoying that he had finally stuttered Chris into silence. Chris’ knees went on the bed, boxing Zach in as hands and lips stroked him, finally dragged a groan from Chris’ mouth. Zach let his eyelids finally close as he sank further down, a hand pushing Chris’ pants off to knead the flesh of his ass, wanting Chris even impossibly closer.
Zach had always liked to give head, and maybe oral sex was his favorite thing, but Chris took it to an entirely different level. His hands stroked and tugged Zach’s hair, fingers whispering the back of his neck in obvious affection, and Zach couldn’t recall when he had ever been this hard from sounds alone. He let his hands roam Chris’ skin, from ass to the small of his back, then smoothed over to grip Chris’ hips and thighs.
His hips had jerked in and out, but then Chris harshly gasped, “Not yet-no,” and he pulled his cock out of Zach’s mouth, wet skin over puffed lips.
Zach wanted to protest-he knew what that usually meant-but Chris rolled to the bed behind him, legs spread and knees bent. His arms beckoned Zach to follow him, held out like Zach would fall into them that easily, like he would want that sort of comfort.
It was too appealing. Chris’ legs were making short work of his jeans, and Zach needed the moment to rip off his own shirt to toss to the floor. Chris was like a magnet, and soon he was leaning over him, letting Chris slide his sweatpants over his hips and cock.
Zach exhaled with pleasure, Chris’ hand gripping his shaft as another hand dipped into his sweatpants to cup his balls. It was exquisite, and Zach leaned down to meet Chris’ kiss, missed and messy. Zach jerked forward into his palm until their bodies were pressed together, trapping Chris’ hand as they rubbed and smacked skin, hips locked and rolling and pressing Chris’ body into the mattress.
He really wanted to fuck Chris, perhaps more than anything in his life, but the friction was too perfect and he moved too fast. Chris wrapped his arms around Zach as he came, tight and possessive, and Zach bit into his shoulder to stifle the loud and drawn-out moan. It felt ridiculously good to come that hard, that long, with Chris’ legs locked around his waist.
Normally he wasn’t clingy, but Zach pressed his nose deeper into Chris’ skin and kept trying to breathe. He was still fuzzy and tingling and Chris hadn’t let him go, and that was strangely okay. Chris let a leg drop, but his arms were still draped around Zach’s shoulders as he rubbed Zach’s back, head turning in an attempt to kiss his temple.
Eventually Zach needed his space and he rolled off, his stomach turning cold when he did so. His skin glistened from both of them, but Zach couldn’t be half-assed to do anything about it. It was the first time he had felt this relaxed in a long while, and he stared at the ceiling trying to enjoy it.
Chris only turned his head, and for a moment Zach feared awkward conversation. But a minute drew on, and then another of Chris just watching him, and Zach could no longer take it.
“Hey… didn’t you promise to rim me?”
At that Chris laughed-a giggle that turned into a deep chuckle-and his hand awkwardly touched his own wet chest and stomach.
Chris licked his mouth in contemplation. “Maybe later.”
Zach bit his lip at he glanced back at the ceiling, not minding that insinuation one bit.
Masterlist | Act III (Part One)
Masterlist: I ( One, Two) | II ( One, Two) | III ( One, Two) | IV ( One, Two)
The following week led to Zach memorizing everyone’s routines-which was to be expected in an ensemble show. The only surprise was that it happened between Tuesday and Friday, not over the course of several months.
For one thing, Louis was relentless. The promised five hours were only the tip of the iceberg. By the time rehearsal was over, Zach usually didn’t have solo time with Joey and John-rather, they turned into Zach, Joey, John, and whatever performer Louis had terrorized that day.
And it was just as well. It gave Zach a chance to make the athletes comfortable with their transitions. Five hours with the group, and then an additional five with each performer, and it was turning into an ideal situation.
Except the crying. When the Chinese had started throwing things, that was rather inconvenient and confusing.
“Okay,” Joey started, then glanced nervously between Zach and Natalia. “From the top. We’re going to start over here-“ Joey motioned to the right of the stage, where Zach would be pushing the end of their canoe out of the metaphorical mud. “You’re supposed to slither from stage-left and over to me.”
Zach walked to his place and tried to hide his smile. It had really been something to see Natalia getting reamed by Louis, regardless of the fact that she was a Cirque veteran, recently off tour from Alegría. She had been equal parts appalled and frustrated, which filled Zach with secret glee.
Too bad that meant extra practice time, though.
“Oof,” Zach said loudly, pretending to strain against the imaginary canoe. In the previous act they had been watching Chris, Karl, and Bruce on a trampoline- supposedly bouncy lily pads-and in the process had run their canoe into sandy ground.
“One, deux, three-yes?” Joey intoned, still inside the canoe and barking his orders. “Hefta, hefta!” he shouted as he banged the sides in protest.
Zach gave him a dirty look, then gave up on pushing. “Wah-wah!” Zach complained, his arms motioning that Joey should get his damn ass out of the canoe to help.
And as they started bickering-with Joey making exaggerated motions of being physically unable to get over the sides-Natalia would sneak up behind them, intrigued by the sight of humans.
In the beginning, Louis had wanted her to encounter Zach and capture his attention. But Zach had changed that around real quick.
It was Joey that turned around and became startled, causing both him and Zach to leap back into the canoe for safety. They would cower and hide inside, until like Bambi and Thumper, the voyagers would realize she meant no harm.
And it all worked, certainly. Natalia could pull off demure and innocent when she wanted to.
From there she skittered around the perimeter, showing both the voyagers her dance and her home. In the actual routine there would be other water nymphs on the side as John sang her song to the orchestra. But for now, Natalia circled an imaginary labyrinth to the center, where a pole would ascend from the floor, but for now stood a wooden stand.
She leapt onto it gracefully, going immediately into a handstand. From there she twisted and turned and maneuvered her body into positions that made Zach wince.
Really, Zach wasn’t sure if his Stretch Armstrong could throw legs over his head like that.
“Wow.”
The whisper caught Zach by surprise, and he turned his head to see Joey agog. They were supposed to act mesmerized, sure, but they were alone in the rehearsal room with Natalia, not in front of an audience. Zach would feign amazement when he had to.
But for now-Zach turned back to Natalia, where she finished by making herself into a living flower bud. Completely encircling the wooden stand, in the act her pole would descend into ground, like a retreating Lady of the Lake.
It would be… nice. It was near the beginning of the show, so it would balance out Zoe’s ballerina/fire-breathing and Chris’ aerial act later on. But right now Zach and Joey’s characters were still be in drunken stupor, easily amazed by everything.
When Natalia straightened herself, Joey burst into a huge grin.
“That was perfect,” he said, enthusiasm unrestrained in his voice. “I think you were more graceful and delicate like Louis said.”
The French Bitch glanced at Zach, but even Zach had to agree. In a nonchalant manner, of course.
“Your movements were way better, smoother,” Zach said, to be specific. “The circling was paced better this time.”
“I’m sure if the other actors were here, it’d be easier,” Joey reassured, but he still looked stupidly proud. “How did you feel about it?”
Zach fought the urge to cover his ears-he was sure at some point he would get used to her butcher block accent, but certainly not soon enough.
“I would like to go again.”
Of course she would. Staying in a room for three hours with Zach was just not enough.
“Maybe we could do some of your other transitions,” Zach offered. Truth be told she had improved immensely, and he doubted another go would result in something different. Besides, the other sections meant he’d have to go out and grab Zoe and Anton, and bearing the French Bitch was better in numbers.
But she glared at Zach. “Again. Please.”
Zach was about to give her a bitchface when Joey turned around, motioning to go back to the imaginary canoe.
“Just one more time, okay?”
Zach rolled his eyes, his irritation at pushing the canoe now turned real.
)O(
But this meant that they eventually reached Chris’ act at the end of the show. Right before the weekend, when everyone was supposed to be enjoying the night off.
No such thing for Chris, of course.
“You want us directly under you?” Joey asked again, for the tenth time. It was a switch-up in routine, and being in the direct line of a performer’s fire was usually a no-no.
But Chris sighed in frustration. “Yes. Yes, I do.” He shared a look with Zach. “Trust me, on this one-I think I have the ‘zing’ that Louis is looking for.”
Louis had been harsh with all of them, but with Chris it had been different. Where Louis had been specific with Natalia, Louis had been nebulous and confusing about what it was that hadn’t worked in Chris’ act.
Naturally that made Chris grumpy as fuck.
“Perhaps we could interact with you more,” Joey said hesitatingly. “We could even build a new transition-“
Chris threw up a begging hand. “Just-just let me show you something, first.” He went to his rope and tugged the length. “Once I’m up there, you guys get into position and start from the beginning.”
Joey exchanged an annoyed glance with Zach, but Zach ignored it. While they had been more communicative with the other performers, in an easy exchange of ideas, Zach knew that Chris came off as closed and separate.
But unlike the rest of them, Zach trusted Chris.
“This once,” Zach said quietly to Joey, then heard Joey grumble as he followed Zach to their pretend canoe.
As imaginary and non-existent as it was, they had started to mime and treat it like a real object. They’d put the invisible canoe away after rehearsals, then the next day get in the mind to pull it out again. A trick they had used for many different acts to keep them in sync and in-tune with their performance.
Zach figured at some point they’d get a real canoe, but so far he hadn’t even seen his costume yet, much less a boat. He could care less about either, anyway.
“Oh, no no,” Joey started with his head in his hands. At this point in the act the voyagers were confused and sobering up, having just witnessed a dance between Eric and Zoe that reminded them of their wives. The lighting would supposedly be changing, reflecting that dusk was around the corner and they were still far, far away from home.
Zach patted Joey’s shoulder in comfort, but Joey still shook his head. During this the canoe moved closer and closer, until finally they drifted under Chris’ rope.
Zach pretended to notice the changing skyline and sighed wistfully. At this moment Chris would start his descent, capturing the voyager’s attention. He was supposed to represent a spirit that brought on the new day, and not only that, show them the way home by flying in that direction off stage.
Zach wondered how they’d visually see Chris to bring on this new act, when he saw Joey glance upward in frustration, and then tugged Zach’s sleeve as he pointed.
“Oh!” Joey said, and Zach followed suit in pointing towards the sky, their fingers following the new flying siren they’ve come across.
But Chris’ act was very similar to before. Maybe it was the change of focus that Chris meant. Their canoe being in the center, as opposed to the left, would bring the voyagers more into the action rather than being mere observers.
Good, good. Zach could see that working for them.
There was a point where Chris would swoop at them, and Chris still did this, causing both voyagers to fall back into the canoe and hide from being swooped upon again.
Except… Chris stopped right above them, dangling high in the air. Joey leaned back on his elbows and tugged Zach’s sleeve excitedly, as if they were witnessing a UFO. Zach also leaned back in awe, a twist of intuition working its way in Zach’s stomach.
“Ah!” Joey yelped as Chris suddenly dropped-falling, falling, falling, right above their heads-into what seemed like an eternity but was really seconds.
Zach clutched his chest as he stared at Chris dangling above them, no more than five feet at most. It had been harrowing and exciting, just like the first time he’d seen Chris do it-only this time Zach thought the rope had broken. It had given him a mild heart attack, but Zach should’ve known better. Chris was perfectly still once again, posed like a teardrop, fingers pointing down.
Joey whispered behind him, “Jesus.”
But Zach knew the invitation when he saw it. This whole time the voyagers had been mere observers-watching acrobats, and contortionists, and fire breathers, and dancers-but now this siren was inviting them to join him.
Zach was slow in getting up-tentative, tentative, hesitant in reaching-and when Zach finally got to his feet there was a flurry of movement.
Chris had climbed up again and was soaring above them, making circles around their canoe. Joey slapped Zach’s arm in sportsmanship, as if Zach had almost caught the big one.
After Chris’ five circles, he faced towards them, tumbling down, fingers beckoning to stage left-and then out. Chris had flown completely out of sight.
Zach and Joey stared at each other, and Zach wondered if they were continuing the act or actually showing their amazement. But as they had previously planned, Joey made the motion of the canoeing moving forward-counter-clockwise around the stage-until their canoe also exited stage left.
By that time Chris had left his rope and stood far off the mat, waiting for their reactions. He looked like a little boy with a homemade gift, wondering if it had been good enough, liked enough-his hands bunched together, tugging at his knuckles.
Zach didn’t have to tell him, for Joey burst into a wide grin.
“That was crazy,” Joey practically yelled, then reached forward to pat Chris’ shoulder. “Oh my god, you scared the hell out of me!”
Joey was manhandling Chris with a hug and a jump of excitement. The confused look on Chris’ face was adorable, especially as Joey kept babbling on, unable to help himself.
“Fuck, I thought something had broke and you were killing yourself!” Joey had stepped back, a hand on his heart. “God, you’re going to freak out the audience.”
Chris gave a small smile of acceptance, as if still trying to figure out whether this was a good thing. When he glanced over at Zach the expression hadn’t changed, in fact became more guarded as he waited for Zach to respond.
Zach hoped his grin was wide enough. “Dude, that sent goosebumps up my arms.”
Chris had started to gnaw on his lower lip-when had Zach’s opinion mattered so much to him? Then again, he had gotten bent out-of-shape over Louis, so perhaps it was the same with everyone.
“That totally needs to stay.” Zach reached forward for a reassuring pat on the arm. “I can’t imagine anything better than that-it was fucking fantastic.”
At that Chris finally grinned, teeth showing as he beamed with pride. “Yeah? You really think so?”
But by then Joey and Zach were exchanging high-fives in congratulations-this was an ending that would knock everything out of the park. No matter what Louis said, Zach would fight to have that remain in their act.
“You’re a genius, Chris.” Joey held up his hand, and Chris returned the high-five. “I’m sorry I put up a fuss, you were totally right.”
“I told you,” Zach said in admonishment, but instead he was looking at Chris, who was keenly looking at him.
It wasn’t awkward-nope. Looking at Chris was the most natural thing in the world. He was just another dude Zach was working with, no sweat.
So why did it feel strange, all the sudden?
“Hey man, give me a high-five.” Zach held up his hand, feeling as if the seconds had ticked by too long. A nervous twist was at the bottom of his stomach, as if Zach had just made a complete fool of himself.
He hadn’t. Right? They were just standing in a room, congratulating each other. And fuck anyone that thought that was weird-they were guys. Friends. Casual pats on the back.
Chris met his palm easily, but instead of pulling away he curled his fingers inward. Before Zach knew it, Chris was giving him a one-arm hug.
“Zach met me halfway.” Chris squeezed tight, and then let go just as quickly. “It wouldn’t have worked if he hadn’t tried to reach out.”
Zach felt his mouth go dry. Chris had been incredibly warm-they had hugged before, right? Chris was a hugger. He had hugged other people at the Cirque, surely. Totally not a hugging virgin.
Zach looked over at Joey, who was grinning like a fool.
“Zach certainly has instincts,” Joey said, then bit his lip in amusement.
He could only stare at Joey-what the fuck was that look? Either Joey was having a seizure, or his supposed-to-be-slight head tilts and eye gestures meant something.
Zach was not going to contemplate it. Was not going to contemplate how the wink wink, nudge nudge usually did mean I’ll spend the night somewhere else.
“Um-hey.” Zach ran a hand through his hair and turned towards the clock. “Let’s break for dinner or something, yeah? I’m starved. In fact-it’s totally the weekend. What the fuck are we doing? We should be out partying or something!”
Zach laughed uneasily for the first time in his life. Why was he nervous? He should totally not be nervous. There was nothing nerve-inducing about this situation. Zach loved performing, and Chris had finally aced the ending of their show. They completely had this in the bag.
Chris shrugged in acceptance. “Sure. Want something in the cafeteria? Or we could go-“
“Actually, you know what? Not feeling well.” Zach touched his stomach and feigned a wince, then backtracked to the door. “Late nights and all that. Catch you later?”
He had meant to say that to Joey, but all he could do was stare at Chris-stare at Chris as he frowned in confusion.
Zach needed a moment.
“Later!”
“Hey, Zach-“
But Zach closed the door on Joey’s voice, making a mad dash to the fresh air and the night sky and all the things that weren’t that performance room.
He had walked to the statue in front of the IKEA building without realization, a block down the street from the front of headquarters. Zach stared at the strange sculpture in the dark-a wire mess of a human being as it back-flipped in the air, the copper coils catching a few errant beams of streetlight.
Zach felt out of breath, and it was ridiculous. It was like that moment of being in his grandma’s basement, then remembering to fear the monster under the stairs. He’d dash to the top landing, not daring to look back, afraid that whatever had spooked him was just waiting at the turn of his head.
“Ugh,” Zach said to no one in particular. The area was quiet, and Zach was sure that whoever was in the nearest apartment had likely heard him.
He walked quickly to the entrance and pulled the handle, relieved for the distraction of showing his badge.
“Early night?” the security guard absently asked, not really listening for an answer.
Zach only nodded, then darted towards the flight of white railings. Maybe if he dashed towards his room and did not look back, these feelings would be squashed behind that fancy glass door.
)O(
“So, do you think Natalia needs to rehearse some more?”
Zach was in their apartment kitchen, fixing a new cup of coffee. Not enough cream, not enough sugar-apparently the cafeteria coffee was superior to something.
Joey leaned against the counter, shirtless with his sweats, and sleepily rubbed his head. “Huh?”
“You know, rehearse. Go over things. I could see if Zoe and Anton are free-“
“Dude, it’s the weekend.” Joey shook his head, looking at Zach like he’d grown a third head. “Nat and I have plans.”
Zach nodded slowly, new thoughts and directions occurring to him. “That’s cool. Where to?”
“Not where you’re invited.”
Zach pouted as Joey left the kitchen. He mumbled into his coffee cup, “Wasn’t asking, jerkface.”
“You know, if you’re really keen on avoiding Chris-“
Zach made a face as he rounded the partition to the kitchen, looking at Joey crossly. “What the fuck? I’m not.”
“John is rehearsing his music today.” Joey grabbed a shirt from a chair and tugged it over his head. “He probably wants the company.” Joey gave him a look as he tossed a different shirt in Zach’s direction. “Although I think you’re being stupid.”
“You’re stupid,” Zach muttered under his breath, the cotton zebra shirt comforting and baggy. “But whatever, man. Have fun.”
Zach toed on his flip-flops at the door, not giving a damn how he looked. He had showered and thrown on clean underwear, and that was the most humanity could expect from him today. Tired, bored, confused-mostly tired-Zach just wanted to lounge and mope in some busy corner, ignored by the rest of the world.
Zach made it an adventure to find the music studios in headquarters. For one, they were in an entirely different direction than the gym-good, good, that was good. Second, all the signs had English, French, and then Braille, and Zach put his fingers on all of them.
He wasn’t sure he could get in once he reached the right floor, but strangely it was vacant and quiet, for the most part.
Zach glanced through a tiny window in the first studio door, and saw that John had stolen the room for himself. If Zach were in his shoes, he could see himself doing the same. At this point John had only seen the music for a week, yet was expected to have the nonsensical lyrics down pat by Monday for group practice.
Considering the lyrics weren’t even a real language, but Cirque-ish? Zach wished him all the luck in the world.
As Zach tried to quietly open the door, a red light and buzzer went off. So much for being stealthy.
John bit off the word he was singing to glance at Zach, then beckoned him inward. The small studio was black and soundproof and everything Zach would expect, including the fuzzy microphone that John had been singing into.
John shuffled sheet music as Zach found a chair. His sigh was the loudest thing Zach had heard in an hour.
“This is not what they told me.” John threw down the music in frustration. “Ambient? Maybe if everyone in Rio was doing the samba in a catatonic state.”
Zach made a face. “How could you do the samba in a catatonic state…?”
John waved him off. “It reminds me of the Amazon. Who the fuck’s idea was it to make me sing like… like...” John gave a middle finger to the sheet music. “I’m not Enrique Iglesias, man.”
“Yeah, you don’t have the same bedroom eyes.”
John gave him a dirty look.
“Try it for me. I mean-we’re supposed to be French voyagers, right? It can’t really sound like the Amazon.”
John straightened his music on a stand. “Well, it’s kind of dreamy in parts. But it has this undercurrent of rhythm to it that’s a little too… upbeat?”
Zach sighed. “Dude, you’ve heard the theme for Alegría, right?” It was the Cirque’s most famous song, so Zach didn’t really doubt it.
John considered it a moment, then, “Well… yeah?”
“It’s about how life is fucking painful, but it’s like, painful beauty-and that’s upbeat.” And then, when Zach thought about it, “I guess that one does sounds like a catatonic samba, actually.”
“They all have that Cirque sound to them.”
“The catatonic samba sound.”
John put his face in his hands. “Nobody knows what the fuck I mean.”
“Just sing, dude.” Zach had made himself comfy on a small bench, and fortunately there was even a pillow to clutch. “They hired you because you’re obviously what they want. They wouldn’t give you material that didn’t match your voice.”
John had no answer for that, instead readying himself for the music. He gave a side-glance to Zach. “There’s a CD player to your left.”
Zach looked, and sure enough there was. He sat up and let his finger hover over the right button. “Yeah?”
John nodded, and Zach pressed play for the music to roll.
It took an hour to go through the whole set, but it was an hour well-spent. For one thing, Zach had been trying to imagine the music for ages. It did come off as a bit tropical to him, but mostly that was during the middle, when the sirens came out to play. Of course things would sound more exciting, then.
It made Zach wonder when the music had been written. It was suspenseful for Natalia’s contortionist bit, and hyper and rollicking for the Chinese acrobats. Zach could envisage each act clearly in his mind as the music played-even for Chris’ aerial dive there was a lull, he assumed for the moment when Chris lured and swooped at them, heightening for drama.
It was good world music, actually. Pure Moods quality.
“Well?’ John asked when he was done, taking a long sip of water from a clear bottle.
Zach gave his most assuring smile. “You were great, man.”
“Shut up.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “I don’t tell people they’re great unless I mean it.” A moment of confrontation with Chris came to mind, and Zach mentally shoved it away. “Your voice is unexpected. Rough like I thought, but… you know how the sandman is taunting and trickster, right?”
“You want me to be more playful?”
“Yeah, why not?” To Zach, the music currently lacked personality. While John could hit all the notes-some high and soft, others mellow and lilting, to Zach’s surprise-it was all rote and flat. “Pretend you’re a sadistic bastard luring Joey and I to the dark side.”
John wrote something down in the columns. “I’ve been trying to memorize things first, but I could do that.”
“Pretend you have a sense of humor, man.”
John looked at him blankly. “I have a sense of humor?”
Zach threw his pillow, and John deflected it with his hand.
“Do you know what the words mean?” It had all sounded gibberish to Zach, with various phrases that sounded like Spanish, French, and perhaps slurred and drunken English. “That could help with things.”
“Yeah. I have a sort of… translation guide?” John ruffled through his papers, finally producing one and handing it to Zach. “There’s not a lot of real words, but in the main theme it’s about enjoying life and seizing what you want.”
The main theme was reminiscent of a music box, innocent and simple, that precipice of feeling before falling over an edge. It reminded Zach of the theme from Quidam-perhaps that was why he had received the DVD in his itinerary folder.
“Mostly I chant things, repeating shit over and over.” John quirked a lip. “Guess that makes it easier to remember.”
“Along with all your acting cues.”
John ticked a finger. “Remind me when I’m getting my other singer, again?”
“Never.” That had actually been revealed a month ago, much to John’s dismay.
“Why are they not paying me more?”
Zach shrugged. “Because you have me?”
“My new life guru, I guess.” John gave him a small smile. “Thanks, man. I was about to storm out of here a while ago.”
“God, don’t. You’re the only one not annoying me right now.”
“What did Chris do?” After looking at Zach’s face, John backtracked. “I mean-who’s bugging you?”
Zach huffed. “I’m bugging me.”
“Well, you’re an annoying shit.”
“Just irritated for no reason, that’s all.”
John seemed to have no comment on the matter. He took another drink from his water bottle, then hedged with, “Maybe hanging with Chris a while will help things?”
Zach made a face. “What the fuck? Everyone thinks that I should just go hang out with Chris.”
“You are kind of joined at the hip.”
“Am not.” Although Zach had to admit they did hang out frequently. During lunches, at least. Sat together at Poker, sometimes together at breakfast and dinner. There was also the time that Chris had watched the Quidam DVD in Zach’s suite. “We’re not together all the time.”
“So you’re not sleeping together, yet?”
Zach gaped at him, saw that John had said this as nonchalantly as the sky being blue. He even took another drink of water without choking, unfortunately.
“What-what the fuck?” Zach looked around the room desperately, like there would be hidden cameras, or Joey, or even Chris to ambush him on the joke. “That hasn’t even crossed my mind!”
But now it did.
“Fuck you, John.”
Chris would probably look stupidly good naked. With all his muscles and the years of training his body, there was probably not an ounce of body fat. His ass, though… maybe just in his ass.
Zach jumped from his seat and started pacing the room. “Fuck this.”
John held up his hands in defense. “I’m sorry if your subconscious has yet to inform you that you’d really like to tap that.”
Zach stopped pacing long enough to scowl and angrily wave a hand. “I don’t.”
“Well, if you don’t, then your body language has been saying something else entirely.”
Zach continued to scowl in disbelief. “Pretty sure I have full control over my body, thanks.”
“Well, then your body is sending the wrong signals, because I’m pretty sure that Chris thinks you want to fuck him.” John leaned back and crossed his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck him? I mean, I’d even fuck him, and I don’t even like dudes-“
Zach threw up his hands, glaring in exasperation at the ceiling. “I don’t know! I guess he’s hot.”
He had fabulous arms, actually. The blue eyes were also a nice touch.
Zach frowned. “What makes you think I like him?”
“What? Really?” John took a moment to consider. “Well, you laugh at all of his jokes.”
“Somebody has to, since they’re not funny.”
“You guys always seem to reconnect after things. Like rehearsals, lunch, going out-“
“Because we’re friends.” Zach waved a hand at him. “I reconnect with you.”
“Yeah, but you bounce all of your ideas off Chris.”
“No I don’t.”
“And Joe.” John casted his gaze downward in thought for a moment. “Actually, you spend a lot of time with Joe-“
“See! That doesn’t mean-“
“But maybe even more with Chris.”
“I do not.”
Yes, yes he did. A great deal. Maybe a bit too much. So much so that Chris asking Zach to dinner last night had not even been the strangest part-far from it.
Zach clenched his jaw, staring off to the side at random furniture and walls and windows and just anywhere but his feet. It all felt incredibly awful and wrong. He liked Chris a lot as a person, but Chris was nerdy and thoughtful and goody-goody and maybe too kind. Definitely too kind.
“Dude, are you brooding?”
Zach turned to John and made a mocking face, but John only laughed.
“Just go talk to Chris already.” John turned back to his sheet music. “I’m supposed to be jaunty and upbeat here, not dealing with boy drama.”
Zach held up his hands in offended disbelief. “Fine, whatever.”
“See you later,” John said as Zach closed the door on him-to all of that conversation, whatever the fuck it had been.
)O(
Not that shutting the door had helped much. It still meant the world was out there, and Chris was wandering around in it. And as much as Zach knew that Chris wasn’t actually the problem, he was acting like a freak around his friend. He usually only chose to do that in private, with the excuse of alcohol.
“That’s a good idea,” Zach muttered to himself while waiting in line at the gas station. Since the cafeteria had a high probability rate of all the things he wanted to avoid, he had chosen a snack run for holing himself in his apartment. Zach would stay in his suite and watch stupid Canadian TV all weekend, then hopefully be back to normal by Monday.
It almost worked. Perhaps would’ve worked, if by evening Chris hadn’t come around.
Damn glass doors.
“Um.” Chris stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking at Zach’s blanket draped haphazardly like a toga. “You’re still sick?”
“The worst.” Zach hoped he looks disheveled and dirty and unappealing. “Probably contagious as all hell. You should totally not come in here.”
Chris didn’t seem put off in the slightest. “Do you need me to get you anything? I know Joe is hanging with Nat-“
“Nah, I got all I need. Thanks!”
Zach went to shut the door, but Chris put in a hand to block him.
“Actually, I came by because-um-there’s a movie on TV.” Chris shrugged sheepishly. “I was wondering if you’d want some company?”
Zach really didn’t, and yet he desperately did. It was like a mixed bag of wanting to barf and being unable to.
“As long as you don’t mind me stealing the couch.” Zach stepped to the side, against his better judgment, and let Chris inside.
Really, he couldn’t avoid Chris forever. And besides-what was there to avoid? He didn’t want to fuck Chris. That was the end of it. Awkwardness solved.
Chris looked pretty happy with the exchange, anyway. Perhaps John had it all wrong-maybe Chris was the one who wanted to fuck him. Projecting feelings, or some shit-it had been on an episode of Loveline once, he knew that. Chris was obviously telling everyone that Zach liked him when it was completely the reverse.
And yet, Chris was at ease as he walked into Zach’s suite. Shouldn’t lovelorn fools be anxious? Jumpy? Nervous about everything that was said?
“Where’s your remote?”
Zach felt around him on the couch, then went to casually grab it from the coffee table. Except it slid across the surface, fell into his hand, slipped across his wrist, down to the floor, down to under the couch-
“Fuck me,” Zach whined. He shoved his entire arm under the couch, angling himself to the point where he eventually fell to the ground with a huge thud.
Zach wanted to murder someone. He looked up at Chris, who was still frozen in the same spot of looking for the remote.
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay?” Zach struggled to get up, resisting the urge to pound the coffee table. Everything fucking sucked.
Chris came over to help, but before he could touch any unsuspecting body part, Zach scrambled.
Wow. Smooth.
“Um, I can get the remote.” Chris ducked to look under the couch and retrieved it easily. “You just… not move.”
Zach sat in the corner of couch and tucked his knees to his chest. He would’ve draped his arms around them, but then his hands would’ve had to awkwardly clasp in front of his knees for a while, and frankly, Zach didn’t need help with awkward.
It was a foreboding feeling as he watched Chris stand in front of the TV, channel surfing. While Chris could stand decently on both of his legs, he was shit at picking a channel. French, some English, and some Telemundo flipped rapidly by.
“Ah-here we go.” Chris backtracked to the couch and sat where Zach’s legs had been. “This is one of my favorites.”
It took Zach a moment, but eventually Ray Liotta appeared on screen and Zach recognized Goodfellas. Not a bad movie at all.
“Have you seen this one?”
Zach wondered if his awkwardness applied to speaking. “Yeah.”
And that was it. Yeah. Chris sat away from him on the other end of the couch, watching the movie, while Zach was getting stiff-legged and increasingly paranoid.
Maybe if he were horizontal he’d fall asleep, and then Chris would feel obligated to leave.
Chris turned his head. “Do you want to stretch out your legs? You can put your feet on my lap.”
God. Chris had said that with no hint of anything on his face-what an asshole.
Instead Zach punched his pillow and slid down, tucking up his knees to shorten himself. But still, the bottoms of his feet touched Chris’ thigh, and that was the beginning of a whole new complication.
Chris was so warm, even through socks. His skin was probably an inferno. Was he a calorie-burning machine, or what? Humans should combust at that rate. But he’d probably feel good around his cock.
Zach shut his eyes tight. Maybe if he started thinking about Ma naked, he’d be able to survive the movie.
“Are you in pain?”
“No, I’m just-“ Zach pulled the covers up to his chin. “Nothing.”
Chris huffed loudly and Zach didn’t want to turn his head, knowing Chris was still looking at him.
“Wow, you have the biggest bug up your ass right now.”
Zach narrowed his eyes at him. “Whatever, I’m sick. I get irritable when sick.”
“Do you become an asshole when sick, too?”
“Gee, I don’t know-have you met me? I think that’s my de facto state.”
Zach turned back to the movie, but he could feel Chris shifting at the end of the couch.
“Normally I can figure out why you’re an asshole, though.”
“Well, I’ll solve that mystery for you: I just am.”
Zach was going to hide under the covers again, but instead his irritation had hit its peak. He threw off his blankets, standing up too quickly and almost falling over. But he was able to look down at Chris, see that Chris was eyeing him skeptically.
Not only was Chris getting on his nerves, but he was trying some psychology bullshit, no doubt. His eyes spoke of hidden theories and reasonable solutions, and Zach was not going to put up with that.
“Don’t pull your Psychology major shit on me.”
Chris blinked in confusion. “Um, I didn’t major in Psychology?”
Zach still stood indignantly, but he had no answer for that one. “Oh.”
Another awkward moment. Chris kept staring at him, despite the best part of Goodfellas on TV. Ray Liotta was pistol-whipping the shit out of Edie Falco’s neighbor, and all Chris could do was look at Zach.
That wasn’t right. That wasn’t right at all.
“Okay-you know what? I’m weird.” Zach rubbed his forehead, then tried to laugh. “Sorry. I’m just… going through shit?”
At that Chris’ expression softened. That was possibly the worse thing, for Chris looked sympathetic. He not only looked kind and understanding, but was standing up in kindness and understanding.
Zach backed up. “So let’s forget all of this, yeah? Let’s just watch the movie.” He walked backwards to the partition of the kitchen and peeked around the corner. “You want something to drink? I bought some badass lemonade.”
Zach still had his hand on the wall as Chris came even closer, his eyes watching Zach like he was a startled deer. Now that was too much.
“Stop.” Zach put up a hand, looking at the ground. “Just stop right there.”
Chris did as he was told, his white-socked feet only mere inches from Zach’s bare ones. It made Zach’s heart ratchet up in his chest, unable to count his own breaths.
He was going to hyperventilate for no damn reason. The world had suddenly turned to shit.
“What’s going on?” It was soft, quiet. “You’re different now.”
Zach felt heady as he looked up. Out of all the times he had slept with someone, none of them had felt like this. He had always been in charge from the start, knowing exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it. He could deal with being painfully aroused, or led on, or somebody teasing him before Zach bent them over.
He took a deep breath-Zach never slept with his friends. He never remained friends with people he slept with.
“I don’t want to do anything stupid.” Zach wetted his lips. “I’m kind of a stupid guy.”
Chris’ eyes followed the action, but he said flippantly, “I doubt it. You practically just wrote Eclipse and managed to make the Cirque feel like it was their idea.” He stepped closer and put a hand on the kitchen partition. “You might actually be the smartest bastard I know.”
Zach felt the motion burst from him. It took nothing at all to dart a hand to Chris’ neck and pull him closer, mouths smacking together in something blunt and forceful. It felt good to just touch lips, to feel Chris’ body that close to his, but then Chris had to grip his waist and open his mouth and everything fell overboard.
Chris had backed him up to the kitchen table, with Zach’s legs apart as Chris leaned into him, dominating all his space.
That woke Zach up and he wrenched his mouth away. “Fuck, no-sorry, goddamn. Shit.”
Chris stopped, but he was speaking in harsh whispers. “How many other swear words do you know?”
“Motherfucker.” Zach pulled Chris’ head down to his neck, and Chris happily licked his pulse, biting at the crux of his shoulder. “You son of a bitch.”
“How about cocksucker?”
Chris’ hand skimmed the inseam of Zach’s sweats, and Zach squirmed.
“Not a fan.”
“Of cocksucker?” Chris raised his brows, leaning back a bit. “Really? You sure?”
Zach threw up his hands. “I don’t want to do this!”
Chris stepped back reluctantly as Zach hopped off the table, trying to gain some distance. Zach pulled up his sweatpants, but he knew they hid nothing, anyway. His best bet was to get Chris to leave the apartment.
But when Zach turned back around, he knew it was virtually impossible. Instead of Chris looking pissed, or rejected, or even in pain, he looked every bit the concerned gentleman.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?”
Chris tilted his head “And you’re an arrogant asshole.” He held up his hand, as if to tick off items. “I think that covers most swear words. There’s a few other ones, but I’m trying to be a good feminist, so I‘d like not to use those.”
Zach squinted. “What?”
“Berkeley, you know.” Chris quirked a lip. “My first week as an English major culminated in smoking pot, doing beer pong, and being schooled by a group of Women’s Studies majors.”
Zach was too caught on the first part. “You did pot?” And his mouth worked before his brain. “Did you have a pet tiger?”
Chris narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Nevermind-but you actually smoked and inhaled, right?
“Just that once. Was too paranoid the month after, wondering if my athletic program was going to do a random drug test.” Chris sighed dramatically. “So, you know, I’m just not some random risk-taker. I wouldn’t kiss one of my friends if I didn’t think it could turn into something really, really good.”
Zach swallowed. “Have you done that before?”
Chris pretended to think about it, but shook his head. “Nope. You’re the first.”
There was something stupidly alluring about it. But most of all he liked Chris’ eyes, the way his gaze drenched Zach’s skin in wanting just way too much. If Zach pushed it any further, he suspected he’d be lying down with legs spread far apart on the couch.
“I haven’t, either.”
Chris gave him a full-body glance. “Obviously.”
The action set off wheels in Zach’s head. There was Chris, standing before him-hands on hips, skeptical expression, head held high and confident. Zach started to wonder where shy, nerdy Chris had gone; the guy who had used The Hobbit as a barrier to start conversation.
“You’re different.”
Chris raised his brows. “Are you sure?”
Zach frowned-maybe not. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Chris had talked to everybody without coaxing. Not only that, he was self-assured in how he handled himself-in his routine, his practices, and how he was capable in his athletics. When Guy Laliberté had called him Okay, Chris had brooded, not sobbed in a corner
Zach narrowed his eyes. Maybe Chris wasn’t shy-maybe he was aloof and arrogant.
“You’re an asshole.”
Chris made a sound from the back of his throat. “If knowing what I want is being an asshole, so be it.”
“No, like-really.” Zach stood up, pointing a finger at Chris. “Look at you, right now. You’re being a cocky asshole. You came into my apartment not even knowing what was on TV, did you?”
“That’s wasn’t obvious?”
“Argh,” Zach yelled in frustration and started to pace his living room. “This is all because you hugged me!”
Chris smirked. “I know.”
“Why the fuck did you hug me?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Chris huffed a laugh and answered it anyway. “Because you needed to take the hint.”
Zach glanced up at Chris, expecting an arrogant look like before-but instead it was plainly wistful. If someone had created a visual dictionary of such things, Chris’ sad expression would be picture perfect.
It was aggravating. “You don’t need to act.” And Zach was finally able to qualify it, to understand why the whole situation bugged him. “You’re a manipulative asshole-right down to abusing Goodfellas.”
Zach turned towards the TV, where Ray Liotta was having a great time in prison. It gave him an urge to kick in the screen.
“In fact-how long have you been maneuvering events?” Zach tried to think of another likely scenario. “You didn’t really need to borrow my spork the other night, did you?”
Chris looked at him strangely, a side-glance of confusion. “Or… I just really needed a utensil that could pierce and scoop at the same time?”
“See, see! Asshole.”
“You might be giving me too much credit.” Chris’ shoulders dropped, as if disappointment had finally set in. Maybe this hadn’t gone to plan. “I’m really not that smart, honestly.”
“No, no-you gave me a crisis, man.” Zach framed his head with his hands as he said it, then flicked them angrily at Chris. “You might be the smartest bastard I know.”
But Chris was entirely too calm. Strike number three against him: Zach couldn’t fucking fight with Chris, and all the nerves wound and twisted in Zach’s body, begging for release. Why didn’t Chris just yell like a normal person? Stalk around and have a temper tantrum if he was actually that sad.
But Chris glanced up slowly-blue eyes earnest, soft, pleading-and Zach would not take any declarations. They would be ridiculous.
“Just for the record, I would rather be licking your asshole instead of calling you one.”
Zach made a face. “What? That’s your line? The one that’s supposed to get me into bed?” Although a tantalizing option, Zach was still too irritated.
Chris looked off to the side and pursed his lips. “Yeah-yeah, I thought that would actually do it.”
Zach snorted. “Well then, goodnight.”
And in Zach’s head, he saw himself storming off down the hall, huffing dramatically as he slammed his bedroom door. He’d be sitting on his bed, throwing a pillow at the wall, and then waiting for the sound of the glass door to shut behind Chris Pine’s ass.
Instead, Zach just stood there. Hands at his sides as Chris stared silently back. It should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t, with Chris’ body turned to the side. If anything, Chris noticeably lost his cocky swagger, his head bent down as he looked at his hands, his fingers, or maybe his feet.
“All right, I’ll go. Goodnight, Zach.”
But Chris didn’t move, either. Maybe there was something in the ground that nailed both of them there, and Zach wondered what would be the remedy.
Apparently it was Chris finally shifting a foot, for Zach reached out and grabbed Chris by the arm. He didn’t even need to tug as Chris turned around and smashed into Zach, taking his kiss by force. Mouths open, breaths departed, Zach felt his hip grace the living room wall, then the palm of his hand as he rolled on top of Chris, realizing that he had backed them into the hallway.
Chris’ eyes were closed, enjoying the sensations, but Zach watched him carefully. Listened as his breathing quickened, his body angled off the wall to get closer, ever closer. Chris fisted the back of Zach’s shirt, tightening into a full body embrace.
Chris really wanted him. It wasn’t just flattering, but smacked around the organ thumping wildly in his chest.
“God, stop thinking.”
The hands on Zach’s back moved down to his ass, and before Zach knew it he was pressed against the wall, Chris’ hands gripping and maneuvering Zach’s legs around his waist.
Fuck, it was hot, and Zach attempted to grind his hips. He wanted to say he fucking loved gymnasts, but then Chris lifted him from the wall and spun him around.
“Ah!” Zach had never been carried before, and when Chris dropped him unceremoniously onto the bed, Zach was still in shock.
Chris threw off his t-shirt, grinning down at him like an idiot. “Yeah? You liked that?”
Zach sat up and tugged at Chris’ belt. “Liked it?” He made short work of Chris’ zipper, and in too slow of seconds had Chris’ hard cock in his hands. “Fuck.”
Zach flattened his tongue against the head, enjoying that he had finally stuttered Chris into silence. Chris’ knees went on the bed, boxing Zach in as hands and lips stroked him, finally dragged a groan from Chris’ mouth. Zach let his eyelids finally close as he sank further down, a hand pushing Chris’ pants off to knead the flesh of his ass, wanting Chris even impossibly closer.
Zach had always liked to give head, and maybe oral sex was his favorite thing, but Chris took it to an entirely different level. His hands stroked and tugged Zach’s hair, fingers whispering the back of his neck in obvious affection, and Zach couldn’t recall when he had ever been this hard from sounds alone. He let his hands roam Chris’ skin, from ass to the small of his back, then smoothed over to grip Chris’ hips and thighs.
His hips had jerked in and out, but then Chris harshly gasped, “Not yet-no,” and he pulled his cock out of Zach’s mouth, wet skin over puffed lips.
Zach wanted to protest-he knew what that usually meant-but Chris rolled to the bed behind him, legs spread and knees bent. His arms beckoned Zach to follow him, held out like Zach would fall into them that easily, like he would want that sort of comfort.
It was too appealing. Chris’ legs were making short work of his jeans, and Zach needed the moment to rip off his own shirt to toss to the floor. Chris was like a magnet, and soon he was leaning over him, letting Chris slide his sweatpants over his hips and cock.
Zach exhaled with pleasure, Chris’ hand gripping his shaft as another hand dipped into his sweatpants to cup his balls. It was exquisite, and Zach leaned down to meet Chris’ kiss, missed and messy. Zach jerked forward into his palm until their bodies were pressed together, trapping Chris’ hand as they rubbed and smacked skin, hips locked and rolling and pressing Chris’ body into the mattress.
He really wanted to fuck Chris, perhaps more than anything in his life, but the friction was too perfect and he moved too fast. Chris wrapped his arms around Zach as he came, tight and possessive, and Zach bit into his shoulder to stifle the loud and drawn-out moan. It felt ridiculously good to come that hard, that long, with Chris’ legs locked around his waist.
Normally he wasn’t clingy, but Zach pressed his nose deeper into Chris’ skin and kept trying to breathe. He was still fuzzy and tingling and Chris hadn’t let him go, and that was strangely okay. Chris let a leg drop, but his arms were still draped around Zach’s shoulders as he rubbed Zach’s back, head turning in an attempt to kiss his temple.
Eventually Zach needed his space and he rolled off, his stomach turning cold when he did so. His skin glistened from both of them, but Zach couldn’t be half-assed to do anything about it. It was the first time he had felt this relaxed in a long while, and he stared at the ceiling trying to enjoy it.
Chris only turned his head, and for a moment Zach feared awkward conversation. But a minute drew on, and then another of Chris just watching him, and Zach could no longer take it.
“Hey… didn’t you promise to rim me?”
At that Chris laughed-a giggle that turned into a deep chuckle-and his hand awkwardly touched his own wet chest and stomach.
Chris licked his mouth in contemplation. “Maybe later.”
Zach bit his lip at he glanced back at the ceiling, not minding that insinuation one bit.
Masterlist | Act III (Part One)