fic: spider!
Title: Spider!
Fandom: RPF -- Pinto!
Pairing: Pine/Quinto (established relationship)
Rating: PG-13/R
Word Count: ~1400
Summary: For this prompt at trek_rpf_kink. Banter!fic revolving around some coitus interruptus and arachnid gigantus. Very much in the same vein as this piece, but with 1000% more spiders. (AO3)
The light came into Zach's bedroom so perfectly at dusk -- pink and gold on the walls, long shadows across the bed, and even the bed coverings were complemented perfectly by the warm hues that filled the room most evenings.
Until Chris kneeled, yanked his red plaid shirt off over his head, and threw it casually on the edge of the bed. Zach saw it from the corner of his eye and groaned at how it clashed.
"Damn right, baby, purr for me," Chris muttered as his teeth bit gently down the side of Zach's throat.
"That wasn't a purr, that was 'you let plaid invade my room, jerk'," Zach replied.
Chris looked over his shoulder, pushed the shirt off the edge of the bed with his foot, and returned to Zach's throat for a moment before moving down to his collarbone. "You anal retentive little Rachel Ray-loving bitch," he added, "I'm going to fuck you color blind. Maybe into another dimension where they've never heard of a color wheel."
Chris reached down, unbuckled Zach's belt, and sighed. "Seriously, a button fly? What the fuck are you doing to me?" Chris climbed off the bed. "You get the putty knife to scrape those 'jeans' off and I'm going on a quest for more condoms."
"More?" Zach asked as he wriggled out of his jeans. "You haven't been feeding them to Noah when I'm gone, have you? Oh lord, have you been eating them? Flavored doesn't mean edible."
"Shut the fuck up," Chris called from under Zach's bathroom sink. "Oooh, a box of of magnum --" His head poked out of the bathroom and he grinned at Zach. "Your estimating is a little inaccurate, don't you think?"
Zach had pulled his jeans halfway off and arched an eyebrow delicately at the box in Chris's hand. "I'm hoping to do better."
"In estimating or --" Chris's eyes narrowed into a glare as he got the joke and Zach laughed, then continued to shimmy out of his jeans. "Heeere they are." He walked out of the bathroom, opened the usual drawer, dropped the box in, and grabbed a condom before closing the drawer again. "What are your pants still doing on?"
"I had a photoshoot today," Zach whined.
Chris went to the foot of the bed and grabbed Zach's jeans by the ankles. "Fuck, Zach, how did you fit these over your giant fucking feet?"
"Look, Rosie the riveter, you can criticize my wardrobe -- a very unwise choice, exhibit A being on the floor -- or you can get these pants off and, as you said, 'fuck me color blind'."
Chris yanked the jeans off and said, "Your pants are stupid." He tossed them in a bunch on the floor and grinned at Zach. "See how I did both? Your baby's so talented."
"Ugh, I think you ripped the hair off my legs in the process, fuck."
"Well, that's what you get for wearing pants that are, essentially, a vacuum." Chris held the condom wrapping in his teeth and undid his own belt and jeans. "Look at that. I, knowing we had a date tonight that would likely end in sex, wore loose-fitting, comfortable trousers."
"Hm? Sorry? You say something? I nodded off."
Chris climbed on the bed and Zach, opened his mouth and let the condom drop next to them, and sat up on Zach's legs with his briefs clinging to his prominent hipbones. "Aww, you sleepy? Just wanna call it a night? Make some homemade chocolate fondue? Watch The Joy Luck Club? I think it's on Showtime before all the porn comes on."
"Hate you so much," Zach laughed as he pulled Chris's face towards his own and kissed him. His hand slipped into the briefs and he pushed them down Chris's body. He felt Chris's hands pull his own briefs down and broke the kiss to laugh at the acrobatics they'd need to do in order to get their final bits of clothes off. "Get off me, go get the lube and take off those damn oh my god spider."
"I don't like 'Spider' as a nickname, they're so gross -- wait, what?" Chris asked. He looked left and right from his place on Zach's legs until Zach's legs folded and buckled and threw Chris onto floor. "Zach, I'm paralyzed. Call help. Call Shatner. Rescue 911," he groaned from the floor.
"CHRIS!" Zach yelled. "There's a spider hanging from the fucking ceiling and it's huge and --" There was another thud as Zach jumped off the bed. "What are you doing?" he shrieked at Chris, who was still getting up from the floor. "Kill it!"
"I don't even see it," Chris said.
"It's RIGHT THERE," Zach yelled, pointing at a spot in space that was completely --
"Oh, there it is."
Zach ran to the edge of the bed, pulled on Chris's shirt, and stomped into the living room.
"Zach?" Chris called from the bedroom. "Should I mention now or five minutes ago that I'm terrified of spiders, too?"
"I saw it first!" Zach called back. "That means you kill it!"
"With eight eyes, I think the spider saw you first -- maybe I can ask it to commit some spider seppuku or something."
"Less joking, more killing!"
Chris walked into the living room where Zach was holding Harold tightly against his chest. "Seriously, I need like a shoe or --"
"You left it in there alone?" Zach got up and held Harold even tighter, ignoring his struggling. "Noah! Come on! Noah! Come!" Zach ran back into the bedroom, Noah trotting faithfully behind him in his turquoise bandana. "Okay, KILL."
"Do you have Raid or something?" Chris called from the kitchen.
"That stuff is toxic, Chris!" Zach replied.
"That's the general idea!" He opened and closed the cabinets under the kitchen sink and sighed. "Hasn't Whole Foods made some kind of Zachary Quinto brand pesticide for spiders and not cats or dogs?"
"I'm not speaking to you until you kill this spider."
"You had to speak to me to tell me that."
"Noah! There it is! Go go -- no, come back, baby, come on! It's just a spider! It's delicious! I will give you so many -- Harold! Harold get back here! Chris, stop them!"
Chris grabbed some treats from the kitchen table and led Noah back to the bedroom. "Okay, I'm coming back with Noah -- where is it?"
"Oh god you almost stepped on it!"
"Okay, calm down," Chris said. "Let's chill, okay? And I'm going to throw this treat near the spider, and maybe Noah will eat them both."
"What if it's venomous?"
"You mean poisonous?"
"I know the fucking difference, I meant what if it's both?" Zach snapped.
"Then we'll go to the vet. Seriously, how long have you lived on your own? You never get spiders?"
"I should ask you the same question!"
"I own a can of Raid! And really big shoes!"
"Baby, they're not that big," Zach said, laughing until he was punched in the shoulder. "Dammit -- okay, wait, where is it? Do you see it? Oh my god. Your stupid trick worked. I think he ate it. Look in his mouth."
"I am not looking in your dog's mouth for a fucking spider -- he's chewing on something, so let's infer it's the spider and the treat, okay?"
"I want evidence."
"You're not getting any! In any sense of the word."
Zach frowned for 2.3 seconds and then sat on the edge of his bed with one of Chris's shoes ready to launch. His narrowed eyes combed every inch of the walls and carpeted floor for the spider. Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Okay, so I'm going to shower, jerk off, and then abuse the hot tub until your aneurysm passes. Sound good?"
"Sounds fine, I'll be there in a minute."
"You're not listening. I'm going to rub one of your $700 shoes against my naked body, and on the other hand I'm going to be wearing my moccasin."
"I've got towels in the linen closet, those blue ones you like."
"Afterwards, I'm going to smoke a cigar and train your cat to bring me cocktails, all while wearing your favorite hat. Maybe we can do a diner run afterwards."
"Yeah, and we can go for a run tomorrow, sounds good."
Chris gave up, entered Zach's bathroom, and exited immediately.
"There's a silverfish in your tub."
Fandom: RPF -- Pinto!
Pairing: Pine/Quinto (established relationship)
Rating: PG-13/R
Word Count: ~1400
Summary: For this prompt at trek_rpf_kink. Banter!fic revolving around some coitus interruptus and arachnid gigantus. Very much in the same vein as this piece, but with 1000% more spiders. (AO3)
The light came into Zach's bedroom so perfectly at dusk -- pink and gold on the walls, long shadows across the bed, and even the bed coverings were complemented perfectly by the warm hues that filled the room most evenings.
Until Chris kneeled, yanked his red plaid shirt off over his head, and threw it casually on the edge of the bed. Zach saw it from the corner of his eye and groaned at how it clashed.
"Damn right, baby, purr for me," Chris muttered as his teeth bit gently down the side of Zach's throat.
"That wasn't a purr, that was 'you let plaid invade my room, jerk'," Zach replied.
Chris looked over his shoulder, pushed the shirt off the edge of the bed with his foot, and returned to Zach's throat for a moment before moving down to his collarbone. "You anal retentive little Rachel Ray-loving bitch," he added, "I'm going to fuck you color blind. Maybe into another dimension where they've never heard of a color wheel."
Chris reached down, unbuckled Zach's belt, and sighed. "Seriously, a button fly? What the fuck are you doing to me?" Chris climbed off the bed. "You get the putty knife to scrape those 'jeans' off and I'm going on a quest for more condoms."
"More?" Zach asked as he wriggled out of his jeans. "You haven't been feeding them to Noah when I'm gone, have you? Oh lord, have you been eating them? Flavored doesn't mean edible."
"Shut the fuck up," Chris called from under Zach's bathroom sink. "Oooh, a box of of magnum --" His head poked out of the bathroom and he grinned at Zach. "Your estimating is a little inaccurate, don't you think?"
Zach had pulled his jeans halfway off and arched an eyebrow delicately at the box in Chris's hand. "I'm hoping to do better."
"In estimating or --" Chris's eyes narrowed into a glare as he got the joke and Zach laughed, then continued to shimmy out of his jeans. "Heeere they are." He walked out of the bathroom, opened the usual drawer, dropped the box in, and grabbed a condom before closing the drawer again. "What are your pants still doing on?"
"I had a photoshoot today," Zach whined.
Chris went to the foot of the bed and grabbed Zach's jeans by the ankles. "Fuck, Zach, how did you fit these over your giant fucking feet?"
"Look, Rosie the riveter, you can criticize my wardrobe -- a very unwise choice, exhibit A being on the floor -- or you can get these pants off and, as you said, 'fuck me color blind'."
Chris yanked the jeans off and said, "Your pants are stupid." He tossed them in a bunch on the floor and grinned at Zach. "See how I did both? Your baby's so talented."
"Ugh, I think you ripped the hair off my legs in the process, fuck."
"Well, that's what you get for wearing pants that are, essentially, a vacuum." Chris held the condom wrapping in his teeth and undid his own belt and jeans. "Look at that. I, knowing we had a date tonight that would likely end in sex, wore loose-fitting, comfortable trousers."
"Hm? Sorry? You say something? I nodded off."
Chris climbed on the bed and Zach, opened his mouth and let the condom drop next to them, and sat up on Zach's legs with his briefs clinging to his prominent hipbones. "Aww, you sleepy? Just wanna call it a night? Make some homemade chocolate fondue? Watch The Joy Luck Club? I think it's on Showtime before all the porn comes on."
"Hate you so much," Zach laughed as he pulled Chris's face towards his own and kissed him. His hand slipped into the briefs and he pushed them down Chris's body. He felt Chris's hands pull his own briefs down and broke the kiss to laugh at the acrobatics they'd need to do in order to get their final bits of clothes off. "Get off me, go get the lube and take off those damn oh my god spider."
"I don't like 'Spider' as a nickname, they're so gross -- wait, what?" Chris asked. He looked left and right from his place on Zach's legs until Zach's legs folded and buckled and threw Chris onto floor. "Zach, I'm paralyzed. Call help. Call Shatner. Rescue 911," he groaned from the floor.
"CHRIS!" Zach yelled. "There's a spider hanging from the fucking ceiling and it's huge and --" There was another thud as Zach jumped off the bed. "What are you doing?" he shrieked at Chris, who was still getting up from the floor. "Kill it!"
"I don't even see it," Chris said.
"It's RIGHT THERE," Zach yelled, pointing at a spot in space that was completely --
"Oh, there it is."
Zach ran to the edge of the bed, pulled on Chris's shirt, and stomped into the living room.
"Zach?" Chris called from the bedroom. "Should I mention now or five minutes ago that I'm terrified of spiders, too?"
"I saw it first!" Zach called back. "That means you kill it!"
"With eight eyes, I think the spider saw you first -- maybe I can ask it to commit some spider seppuku or something."
"Less joking, more killing!"
Chris walked into the living room where Zach was holding Harold tightly against his chest. "Seriously, I need like a shoe or --"
"You left it in there alone?" Zach got up and held Harold even tighter, ignoring his struggling. "Noah! Come on! Noah! Come!" Zach ran back into the bedroom, Noah trotting faithfully behind him in his turquoise bandana. "Okay, KILL."
"Do you have Raid or something?" Chris called from the kitchen.
"That stuff is toxic, Chris!" Zach replied.
"That's the general idea!" He opened and closed the cabinets under the kitchen sink and sighed. "Hasn't Whole Foods made some kind of Zachary Quinto brand pesticide for spiders and not cats or dogs?"
"I'm not speaking to you until you kill this spider."
"You had to speak to me to tell me that."
"Noah! There it is! Go go -- no, come back, baby, come on! It's just a spider! It's delicious! I will give you so many -- Harold! Harold get back here! Chris, stop them!"
Chris grabbed some treats from the kitchen table and led Noah back to the bedroom. "Okay, I'm coming back with Noah -- where is it?"
"Oh god you almost stepped on it!"
"Okay, calm down," Chris said. "Let's chill, okay? And I'm going to throw this treat near the spider, and maybe Noah will eat them both."
"What if it's venomous?"
"You mean poisonous?"
"I know the fucking difference, I meant what if it's both?" Zach snapped.
"Then we'll go to the vet. Seriously, how long have you lived on your own? You never get spiders?"
"I should ask you the same question!"
"I own a can of Raid! And really big shoes!"
"Baby, they're not that big," Zach said, laughing until he was punched in the shoulder. "Dammit -- okay, wait, where is it? Do you see it? Oh my god. Your stupid trick worked. I think he ate it. Look in his mouth."
"I am not looking in your dog's mouth for a fucking spider -- he's chewing on something, so let's infer it's the spider and the treat, okay?"
"I want evidence."
"You're not getting any! In any sense of the word."
Zach frowned for 2.3 seconds and then sat on the edge of his bed with one of Chris's shoes ready to launch. His narrowed eyes combed every inch of the walls and carpeted floor for the spider. Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Okay, so I'm going to shower, jerk off, and then abuse the hot tub until your aneurysm passes. Sound good?"
"Sounds fine, I'll be there in a minute."
"You're not listening. I'm going to rub one of your $700 shoes against my naked body, and on the other hand I'm going to be wearing my moccasin."
"I've got towels in the linen closet, those blue ones you like."
"Afterwards, I'm going to smoke a cigar and train your cat to bring me cocktails, all while wearing your favorite hat. Maybe we can do a diner run afterwards."
"Yeah, and we can go for a run tomorrow, sounds good."
Chris gave up, entered Zach's bathroom, and exited immediately.
"There's a silverfish in your tub."