FIC: Star Trek RPS -- One Missed Call
Title: One Missed Call
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairings: Pinto, past ZQ/Matt Bomer (maaaaaaybe)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,258
Warnings: dirty talk re: Zach/Matt, juvenile nicknames, slightly ludicrous angst
Disclaimer: None of this is real and no offense is intended.
Summary: In which Zach gets a phone call and Chris obsesses.
A/N: Guess who just started watching White Collar. Fills the teasing square on my Kink Bingo card.
“Zach! Your fucking phone is ringing!”
“Then fucking pick it up!” comes the answer from somewhere in the kitchen.
“I’m not your fucking secretary!”
“Didn’t fucking ask you to be - just fucking answer it!”
Chris rolls his eyes. “Your fucking legs broken or something?”
“I’m busy! Answer my fucking phone!”
“You do know how to sweet talk me, you son of a bitch,” Chris mutters to himself, grabbing Zach’s phone off the coffee table. Naturally, it stops ringing almost as soon as he picks it up, but he does get to see the name of the caller. He snorts and pads into the kitchen, where Zach is absorbed in cooking the organic dog food he’s decided is absolutely necessary for Noah’s wellbeing this week.
“Zach, you have one missed call from a ‘Boner.’ And I know it’s not your boner, because I’ve been taking excellent care of him,” Chris muses, looping an arm around Zach’s waist to rub his palm lewdly over Zach’s crotch. “Unless your boner’s calling to thank me, in which case I’d really like to know how he’s hiding a cell phone in there.”
“You’re funny,” Zach says flatly, stirring the pot on the stove. Whatever’s in there smells like feet. “That’s my friend Matt from CM.”
“Is he particularly… priapic?”
Zach snorts. “His last name’s Bomer. Which was really funny when we were nineteen and stoned off our asses, trust me.”
Chris frowns. “Matt Bomer… Why do I know that name?”
“He’s an actor. Just got a show, too - White Collar.”
“Ah, good for him. You seen it?”
“Caught a couple episodes. It’s pretty good.” Zach looks intently at the contents of the pot, then carefully lifts the spoon. Up to his mouth.
“Oh Jesus, Zach, no,” Chris groans.
“What? It’s mostly diced chicken livers and vegetables and some herbs and stuff. It’s all cooked.”
“It’s dog food.”
Zach rolls his eyes like he doesn’t have a steaming spoonful of kibble in front of his face. “It’s just food that I happen to want to feed to my dog.” And then, horror of horrors, he takes a little bite. “And it needs salt.”
Chris is so busy pretending to vomit into the sink that he doesn’t notice Zach sneaking up beside him, turning him to plant a deep, wet kiss on his lips.
&&&
Wouldn’t you know it, that very next Saturday USA has a White Collar marathon, and Chris is actually getting into it. This Bomer guy is hot, and his FBI partner’s pretty tasty, too, in a put-you-in-handcuffs-and-boss-you-around-while-his-hot-wife-watches kind of a way.
Three episodes in, Zach wanders out from the bedroom with that dazed look on his face he always gets after being on the phone with the BTD guys and going into producer mode. He shoves Chris’ feet off the end of the couch and plops down without a word.
Next time Bomer’s character is on screen, Chris grins and pokes Zach with his toe. “Please tell me you hit that. Y’know, back in the day.”
“Who, me?” Zach asks innocently.
“So you didn’t,” Chris says with an exaggerated sigh. “More’s the pity. Stoned drama-nerd sex is truly something special.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t,” mutters Zach, his eyes still on the screen.
“So you did?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“Well, what did you say, asswipe?”
“Nothing.” Zach turns to face him. “And since you called me an asswipe, nothing’s all you’re going to get.”
“Uh-uh, not fair,” Chris whines. “C’mon, I really wanna know.”
“Wow, you really do, don’t you?”
“Ye- Goddamn it Zach,” he moans, because Zach’s grinning now. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
Zach just laughs, folds his hands behind his head, and turns back to the TV.
&&&
Turns out that phone call had been an invitation to lunch, and even though Chris begs and pleads and offers to let Zach do that thing to him in bed that he only gets to do on nationally-recognized holidays, Zach refuses to let Chris go with him.
“We just want to catch up. You won’t know any of the people we’re talking about,” Zach says with an exasperated sigh. “You’ll feel completely left out of the conversation.”
“I don’t mind,” Chris protests. “I’d love to hear about the old days, you and Boner screwing around during rehearsals.” He pauses, then adds slyly, “or should that be screwing after rehearsals?”
“Smooth, Christopher.”
Chris pouts. “Hey, I just want to know if I should be jealous here.”
“He’s spoken for. As am I, by the way. You know you’re my one and only snuggle-bunny,” Zach simpers, taking Chris’ face in both of his hands and rubbing their noses together. “My Chrissy-Bear. My sweet angel toes. My itty bitty-”
Chris shoves him off. “Go suck a dick, Quinto.”
“Because that’s such a horrifying punishment,” Zach laughs, shaking his head as he goes to leave.
A thought occurs to Chris just before the door closes. “Just not Boner’s dick!”
&&&
It’s not that Chris is jealous. Not really. He trusts Zach completely. Hell, if he had a problem with Zach spending time with ex-lovers, most of their social calendar would be shot.
It’s just that Chris has to know.
&&&
The sun’s going down, making Zach’s eyes glow amber in the dying light and they’re both on the couch, Chris wrapped around Zach and gasping against his mouth between ravenous kisses. Zach’s hand is shoved down the back of Chris’ pants, sometimes squeezing hard at the generous flesh and sometimes just pressing Chris’ pelvis to grind down into his own.
“Fuck,” Chris moans into Zach’s ear. “Fuck, yeah baby, bruise my ass. Make me feel it.”
“God, Chris,” Zach groans. “Haven’t seen you this worked up in a while.”
“Just need you.” Their shirts are long gone, and Chris bends down to bite at Zach’s bare shoulder. “Mmmm, been thinking about this all day.”
Zach pulls his hand out of Chris’ pants and Chris whines, stopping when both of Zach’s hands go to work on his fly. He plunges his tongue deep into Zach’s mouth, licking lazily at every corner until Zach is panting. It takes a few minutes for Zach to get Chris’ pants open, and once he does, he starts on his own zipper instead of reaching into Chris’ briefs.
Sure, Chris could help. Or he could wind Zach up a little more. “God, Zach, you make me crazy. The way you touch me. You never hold back, and I fucking love it when you tear at my clothes, leave marks on my skin. Love it when you hold me down to fuck into me hard and slow.”
Zach moans, abandoning the fastenings of his jeans to yank Chris’ head down for another ravishing kiss. Then, paradoxically, he gasps, “Keep talking. Don’t stop.”
He’s got Zach right where he wants him - still focused enough to listen, but too committed to back out - so he goes for it. “Were you like that with him, too? When you fucked Matt, did you hold him down?”
Zach laughs, but he also grinds up hard into Chris’ hips. “Fuck, Chris, you’re obsessed.”
“’Cause it’s so hot,” Chris gushes, licking around the shell of Zach’s ear before biting at the lobe. “I’ve seen his body, Zach. It’s incredible. I bet he put up a good fight. All for show, of course, but I bet he made you work for it, made you wrestle him down and hold his wrists before he’d let you fuck him. God, what I would’ve paid to see that.”
“Mmm,” Zach hums, a grin on his face. “Quite the imagination you have there.”
“Don’t need much imagination for this. His eyes, Zach. I know you’ve got a thing for blue eyes. I bet his eyes went all wide and shocked when you pushed into him. Bet he’s never had a cock as big as yours.”
“Trying- ohh,” Zach moans as Chris attacks his neck, all sharp teeth followed up with warm, soothing tongue. “Trying flattery now, I see?”
Chris ignores it and forges ahead. “Was he loud? He looks like he’d be a… vocal kind of guy. Like he tries to hold back, but he just…” Chris thrust his hips down hard. “…can’t…” Another thrust “…help it. I bet he loved your cock, couldn’t get enough of it, begged you to fuck him harder, deeper…”
While Chris had been talking, he’d failed to notice Zach’s hand worm its way between their bodies. Thus he’s taken completely by surprise when that hand dives down into his briefs. “What makes you think,” Zach growls, holding Chris’ cock in a tight, possessive grip, “that he didn’t fuck me?”
Chris’ eyes roll back in his head.
&&&
“Matt called again today,” Zach says lightly, not looking up from his book.
Chris will not rise to the bait. He absolutely will not. “That so?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Chris digs his fingernails into his thighs and bites his lower lip hard, but it doesn’t work. “What about?”
“He’s having a party next week, a friend’s birthday.”
Zach will not look up from that book and Chris is ready to lunge across the table and grab him by the face. Doesn’t help that he’s wearing those stupid, sexy glasses either. It’s all Chris can do to keep his voice calm and even. “You gonna go?”
He finally, finally looks up, and his face is… blank. “We can’t. It’s the same night as your sister’s thing.” Then he goes right back to the book.
What’s driving Chris out of his mind is that he’s spent the last few days developing an actual twitch from pent-up frustration and Zach doesn’t even notice. But Chris does not pick up his chair and hurl it through the nearest window, and for that he is profoundly proud of himself. He takes a few deep breaths and thinks damn it, I could’ve met the guy and just fucking asked him myself.
“You, uh…” Chris starts. “You made any other plans?”
“With Matt? Nothing definite. We’re going to try to keep in touch better than we have.”
By now Chris is sort of studiously not hyperventilating. “Yeah, you like to stay on good terms with your exes, don’t you?”
Zach lifts an eyebrow. “I do. I also like to stay in contact with my friends.”
“So he was your… friend?”
“Of course he was my friend, Chris. Still is, even though we haven’t talked in a while. You really need to let this go.” And then Zach smiles, the corner of his mouth curling up and it’s practically a wink.
Chris loses it. That is to say, he whines like a six-year-old denied a pony. “Please, please just tell me. I have to know!”
“Jeez, wanting to know my entire sexual history now…”
“Not all of it, just him!”
Zach shakes his head like he’s disappointed, the fucker. “Chris, is this somehow necessary for your continued existence on this planet?”
Finally, Zach gets it. “Yes,” Chris says.
Scratching his chin, Zach appears to think it over. “It is a pretty hot mental image, me and him.”
“Yes!”
“The two of us in the green room after hours, pawing at each other, too desperate for finesse.”
“Oh my god, yes!”
“Then the answer is a resounding… maybe,” Zach says, and this time he actually does wink. “C’mon, a guy’s gotta have some secrets.” Then he gets up, takes his book, and goes, leaving Chris to quietly and repeatedly knock his forehead against the wall.
&&&
Zach’s out walking Noah but his phone is right there on the table.
Chris shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.
But he does.
“Boner” is still listed under recent calls. Before he can think better of it, he hits the Call button. He’s all righteous indignation until someone picks up on the other end.
“Hello?”
In a panic, Chris tries to analyze the hello. It’s not a sexy hello, not the way you’d greet your secret lover (who you don’t have, because you’re perfectly happy with Chris and his peerlessly gorgeous ass)(also cock). It’s friendly enough, but is it the hello of a casual friend or the hello of an old flame that burned with the fire of a hundred suns until it burst into supernova, scattering its heat across millions of miles of cold, sterile space?
Chris hangs up and drops the phone back onto the table.
He’s just getting his breath back when it rings again.
Boner.
“Fuck!” Chris shrieks. Motherfucking shit-eating pus-sucking caller ID.
He covers the phone with yesterday’s newspaper and runs into the bedroom.
&&&
“Chris?”
“Hrrrrngh?” Chris grunts through a mouthful of dry cereal.
“Christopher, darling?”
“Wha?” he manages.
“Is there any particular reason why I’ve got a voice mail from Matt teasing me for butt-dialing him yesterday?”
“Uhh… Going out on a limb here - you butt-dialed him yesterday?”
“Okay, first off, the iPhone is nigh impossible to dial with a butt. It is a truly advanced piece of technology. And second, were it even possible, I did not butt-dial him yesterday, because I couldn’t find my phone all afternoon. For some reason, it was under a stack of newspapers on the dining room table.”
“Huh,” Chris says, partially to sound disinterested and partially because he’s still trying to swallow the remnants of an enormous wad of Cap’n Crunch.
Zach advances on him. “Allow me to propose a hypothetical.”
“Uh, sure.”
“At some point yesterday when I left my phone unattended - perhaps I was in the bathroom, perhaps I was walking Noah, perhaps I was out on the patio - someone caught a glimpse of said phone. Someone who perhaps has been obsessing about a past relationship of mine. And perhaps this someone got it into his head to call this person.”
At this point, Zach is pacing slowly around Chris like goddamn Columbo. “For what purpose, you ask? Maybe he felt an interrogation was in order. Maybe he had planned on flying into a jealous rage. Maybe he had no plan at all. You can guess where the smart money is. Anyhow, perhaps in an uncharacteristic moment of clarity, this someone panicked, hung up the phone, and hid it in a completely asinine attempt to cover his actions.”
Chris nods furiously. “That Noah is one jealous bastard.”
Zach slumps against the kitchen counter and sighs. “Chris, why?”
His mouth falls open. “Why the hell do you think? If you would just fucking tell me whether you and Bomer fucked, none of this would have happened.”
Zach’s eyebrows pop up. “It’s that important to you?”
Overwhelmed with frustration, Chris actually flaps his arms - he fucking flaps his arms like a fucking chicken, fully aware that he’s doing it and unable to care much. “YES! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s driving me utterly batshit crazy!”
“Why?” Zach asks.
“Why? What do you mean, why? You’ve been dicking me around for days!”
“You obviously know I’ve had relationships before you. We’ve talked about some of them. In excruciating detail, if you’ll recall. And you know I’m not fucking him now. So what is this about?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Chris groans, his agony coming to a flailing head. “I just know that since you won’t tell me, it’s all I can think about.”
Zach’s arms unfold and he reaches out to Chris. “What answer would make you the happiest?”
“The true one,” Chris says, melting into Zach’s embrace even though he’s not sure he wants to.
“We fooled around a little,” Zach whispers, kissing the top of Chris’ head. “Only a few times, after parties, quick handjobs and stuff. He wanted to suck me, so I let him, and I returned the favor. But there was never any fucking. He wasn’t even sure he was gay at the time, and I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or anything. By the time senior year rolled around, we were just friends.”
It’s like the weight of the earth has lifted from his shoulders. Chris feels like weeping. “Was that so fucking difficult to say?”
“I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t think it was messing you up that badly.”
“I don’t like it when you won’t tell me stuff,” Chris mutters into Zach’s shoulder. “I know everybody needs some secrets, but I don’t want them dangled in front of my face. I want to know stuff about you, Zach. I like hearing about who you were before you met me.” He takes a shaky breath, lets it out. “Especially your sordid college years.”
Zach snorts, but doesn’t let Chris out of his arms. “’Sordid college years,’ please. This was Pittsburgh in the mid-90s. We were both awkward idiots back then.”
Chris can’t help it; he giggles. “You mean you weren’t always the suave, devilishly handsome rake I see before me?”
Zach shrugs, rubbing Chris’ back. “It was kinda sexy in a cute, fumbling way. Like you were when we first got together.”
The blush spreads up Chris’ face so fast he’s surprise he doesn’t burst into flame. “Shut up.”
“No, I mean it. You were so sweet. The first time you sucked my dick, you kept looking up at me like, ‘Am I doing this right? Does it feel good?’”
“Have you not tortured me enough already?”
“Chris, I can never torture you enough.”
“Look, I don’t know how you were raised,” Chris says, fixing Zach with a tired, put-upon look, “but that’s not a nice thing to say.”
“Poor little Chris,” Zach sighs, lower lip pushed into a condescending little pout. “How can I ever make this up to you?”
Chris pretends to think it over. “Threesome with Boner?”
“No!” Zach yelps with a surprised laugh. “He’s in a stupidly happy long-term relationship.”
“So are we! Doesn’t mean his boyfriend can’t share.”
“And he’s just a friend.” Chris opens his mouth but Zach cuts him off. “But not like you were ‘just a friend.’ Believe it or not, I don’t fantasize about Matt.”
“You-” Chris’ face contorts with confusion. “Seriously?”
Zach sighs. “I still see him as that clumsy, handsy sophomore desperate to get some after the cast party. Not bad if you’re half-drunk and already kind of horny, but not that inspiring, either. And he did not have that body back then.”
“Okay, no threesome. But can I still fantasize about you and Boner sometimes?”
Zach rolls his eyes. “Go for it.”
“Can he wear the fedora while he fucks you? In my head?”
“How about you wear a fedora and fuck me for real?” growls Zach, grabbing Chris by the belt and yanking him close for a slow, dirty kiss, all thrusting tongue and wandering hands.
All of a sudden, Chris pulls back and freezes, and Zach makes a whimpery confused noise. “Hold on,” Chris says, reaching into his back pocket. “I think I’m getting a call.”
“I didn’t hear-”
Chris puts the phone up to his ear. “Hello? Oh, hey!” He covers the mouthpiece and whispers to Zach, “Could you give me a sec? I’ve got your boner on the line.” Then, back to the phone: “Yeah, sorry, you know how he gets. I gotta say, you’re looking pretty good today, nice and… girthy. We oughtta get together some-ACK!”
Zach yanks the phone out of his hand and tosses it on the counter, dragging Chris down the hallway by the front of his shirt. “Forget the fedora. You’re gonna be wearing nothing but handcuffs and big red welts in the shape of my hand for the rest of the day. The week.”
Chris totally counts it as a win.
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairings: Pinto, past ZQ/Matt Bomer (maaaaaaybe)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,258
Warnings: dirty talk re: Zach/Matt, juvenile nicknames, slightly ludicrous angst
Disclaimer: None of this is real and no offense is intended.
Summary: In which Zach gets a phone call and Chris obsesses.
A/N: Guess who just started watching White Collar. Fills the teasing square on my Kink Bingo card.
“Zach! Your fucking phone is ringing!”
“Then fucking pick it up!” comes the answer from somewhere in the kitchen.
“I’m not your fucking secretary!”
“Didn’t fucking ask you to be - just fucking answer it!”
Chris rolls his eyes. “Your fucking legs broken or something?”
“I’m busy! Answer my fucking phone!”
“You do know how to sweet talk me, you son of a bitch,” Chris mutters to himself, grabbing Zach’s phone off the coffee table. Naturally, it stops ringing almost as soon as he picks it up, but he does get to see the name of the caller. He snorts and pads into the kitchen, where Zach is absorbed in cooking the organic dog food he’s decided is absolutely necessary for Noah’s wellbeing this week.
“Zach, you have one missed call from a ‘Boner.’ And I know it’s not your boner, because I’ve been taking excellent care of him,” Chris muses, looping an arm around Zach’s waist to rub his palm lewdly over Zach’s crotch. “Unless your boner’s calling to thank me, in which case I’d really like to know how he’s hiding a cell phone in there.”
“You’re funny,” Zach says flatly, stirring the pot on the stove. Whatever’s in there smells like feet. “That’s my friend Matt from CM.”
“Is he particularly… priapic?”
Zach snorts. “His last name’s Bomer. Which was really funny when we were nineteen and stoned off our asses, trust me.”
Chris frowns. “Matt Bomer… Why do I know that name?”
“He’s an actor. Just got a show, too - White Collar.”
“Ah, good for him. You seen it?”
“Caught a couple episodes. It’s pretty good.” Zach looks intently at the contents of the pot, then carefully lifts the spoon. Up to his mouth.
“Oh Jesus, Zach, no,” Chris groans.
“What? It’s mostly diced chicken livers and vegetables and some herbs and stuff. It’s all cooked.”
“It’s dog food.”
Zach rolls his eyes like he doesn’t have a steaming spoonful of kibble in front of his face. “It’s just food that I happen to want to feed to my dog.” And then, horror of horrors, he takes a little bite. “And it needs salt.”
Chris is so busy pretending to vomit into the sink that he doesn’t notice Zach sneaking up beside him, turning him to plant a deep, wet kiss on his lips.
&&&
Wouldn’t you know it, that very next Saturday USA has a White Collar marathon, and Chris is actually getting into it. This Bomer guy is hot, and his FBI partner’s pretty tasty, too, in a put-you-in-handcuffs-and-boss-you-around-while-his-hot-wife-watches kind of a way.
Three episodes in, Zach wanders out from the bedroom with that dazed look on his face he always gets after being on the phone with the BTD guys and going into producer mode. He shoves Chris’ feet off the end of the couch and plops down without a word.
Next time Bomer’s character is on screen, Chris grins and pokes Zach with his toe. “Please tell me you hit that. Y’know, back in the day.”
“Who, me?” Zach asks innocently.
“So you didn’t,” Chris says with an exaggerated sigh. “More’s the pity. Stoned drama-nerd sex is truly something special.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t,” mutters Zach, his eyes still on the screen.
“So you did?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“Well, what did you say, asswipe?”
“Nothing.” Zach turns to face him. “And since you called me an asswipe, nothing’s all you’re going to get.”
“Uh-uh, not fair,” Chris whines. “C’mon, I really wanna know.”
“Wow, you really do, don’t you?”
“Ye- Goddamn it Zach,” he moans, because Zach’s grinning now. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
Zach just laughs, folds his hands behind his head, and turns back to the TV.
&&&
Turns out that phone call had been an invitation to lunch, and even though Chris begs and pleads and offers to let Zach do that thing to him in bed that he only gets to do on nationally-recognized holidays, Zach refuses to let Chris go with him.
“We just want to catch up. You won’t know any of the people we’re talking about,” Zach says with an exasperated sigh. “You’ll feel completely left out of the conversation.”
“I don’t mind,” Chris protests. “I’d love to hear about the old days, you and Boner screwing around during rehearsals.” He pauses, then adds slyly, “or should that be screwing after rehearsals?”
“Smooth, Christopher.”
Chris pouts. “Hey, I just want to know if I should be jealous here.”
“He’s spoken for. As am I, by the way. You know you’re my one and only snuggle-bunny,” Zach simpers, taking Chris’ face in both of his hands and rubbing their noses together. “My Chrissy-Bear. My sweet angel toes. My itty bitty-”
Chris shoves him off. “Go suck a dick, Quinto.”
“Because that’s such a horrifying punishment,” Zach laughs, shaking his head as he goes to leave.
A thought occurs to Chris just before the door closes. “Just not Boner’s dick!”
&&&
It’s not that Chris is jealous. Not really. He trusts Zach completely. Hell, if he had a problem with Zach spending time with ex-lovers, most of their social calendar would be shot.
It’s just that Chris has to know.
&&&
The sun’s going down, making Zach’s eyes glow amber in the dying light and they’re both on the couch, Chris wrapped around Zach and gasping against his mouth between ravenous kisses. Zach’s hand is shoved down the back of Chris’ pants, sometimes squeezing hard at the generous flesh and sometimes just pressing Chris’ pelvis to grind down into his own.
“Fuck,” Chris moans into Zach’s ear. “Fuck, yeah baby, bruise my ass. Make me feel it.”
“God, Chris,” Zach groans. “Haven’t seen you this worked up in a while.”
“Just need you.” Their shirts are long gone, and Chris bends down to bite at Zach’s bare shoulder. “Mmmm, been thinking about this all day.”
Zach pulls his hand out of Chris’ pants and Chris whines, stopping when both of Zach’s hands go to work on his fly. He plunges his tongue deep into Zach’s mouth, licking lazily at every corner until Zach is panting. It takes a few minutes for Zach to get Chris’ pants open, and once he does, he starts on his own zipper instead of reaching into Chris’ briefs.
Sure, Chris could help. Or he could wind Zach up a little more. “God, Zach, you make me crazy. The way you touch me. You never hold back, and I fucking love it when you tear at my clothes, leave marks on my skin. Love it when you hold me down to fuck into me hard and slow.”
Zach moans, abandoning the fastenings of his jeans to yank Chris’ head down for another ravishing kiss. Then, paradoxically, he gasps, “Keep talking. Don’t stop.”
He’s got Zach right where he wants him - still focused enough to listen, but too committed to back out - so he goes for it. “Were you like that with him, too? When you fucked Matt, did you hold him down?”
Zach laughs, but he also grinds up hard into Chris’ hips. “Fuck, Chris, you’re obsessed.”
“’Cause it’s so hot,” Chris gushes, licking around the shell of Zach’s ear before biting at the lobe. “I’ve seen his body, Zach. It’s incredible. I bet he put up a good fight. All for show, of course, but I bet he made you work for it, made you wrestle him down and hold his wrists before he’d let you fuck him. God, what I would’ve paid to see that.”
“Mmm,” Zach hums, a grin on his face. “Quite the imagination you have there.”
“Don’t need much imagination for this. His eyes, Zach. I know you’ve got a thing for blue eyes. I bet his eyes went all wide and shocked when you pushed into him. Bet he’s never had a cock as big as yours.”
“Trying- ohh,” Zach moans as Chris attacks his neck, all sharp teeth followed up with warm, soothing tongue. “Trying flattery now, I see?”
Chris ignores it and forges ahead. “Was he loud? He looks like he’d be a… vocal kind of guy. Like he tries to hold back, but he just…” Chris thrust his hips down hard. “…can’t…” Another thrust “…help it. I bet he loved your cock, couldn’t get enough of it, begged you to fuck him harder, deeper…”
While Chris had been talking, he’d failed to notice Zach’s hand worm its way between their bodies. Thus he’s taken completely by surprise when that hand dives down into his briefs. “What makes you think,” Zach growls, holding Chris’ cock in a tight, possessive grip, “that he didn’t fuck me?”
Chris’ eyes roll back in his head.
&&&
“Matt called again today,” Zach says lightly, not looking up from his book.
Chris will not rise to the bait. He absolutely will not. “That so?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Chris digs his fingernails into his thighs and bites his lower lip hard, but it doesn’t work. “What about?”
“He’s having a party next week, a friend’s birthday.”
Zach will not look up from that book and Chris is ready to lunge across the table and grab him by the face. Doesn’t help that he’s wearing those stupid, sexy glasses either. It’s all Chris can do to keep his voice calm and even. “You gonna go?”
He finally, finally looks up, and his face is… blank. “We can’t. It’s the same night as your sister’s thing.” Then he goes right back to the book.
What’s driving Chris out of his mind is that he’s spent the last few days developing an actual twitch from pent-up frustration and Zach doesn’t even notice. But Chris does not pick up his chair and hurl it through the nearest window, and for that he is profoundly proud of himself. He takes a few deep breaths and thinks damn it, I could’ve met the guy and just fucking asked him myself.
“You, uh…” Chris starts. “You made any other plans?”
“With Matt? Nothing definite. We’re going to try to keep in touch better than we have.”
By now Chris is sort of studiously not hyperventilating. “Yeah, you like to stay on good terms with your exes, don’t you?”
Zach lifts an eyebrow. “I do. I also like to stay in contact with my friends.”
“So he was your… friend?”
“Of course he was my friend, Chris. Still is, even though we haven’t talked in a while. You really need to let this go.” And then Zach smiles, the corner of his mouth curling up and it’s practically a wink.
Chris loses it. That is to say, he whines like a six-year-old denied a pony. “Please, please just tell me. I have to know!”
“Jeez, wanting to know my entire sexual history now…”
“Not all of it, just him!”
Zach shakes his head like he’s disappointed, the fucker. “Chris, is this somehow necessary for your continued existence on this planet?”
Finally, Zach gets it. “Yes,” Chris says.
Scratching his chin, Zach appears to think it over. “It is a pretty hot mental image, me and him.”
“Yes!”
“The two of us in the green room after hours, pawing at each other, too desperate for finesse.”
“Oh my god, yes!”
“Then the answer is a resounding… maybe,” Zach says, and this time he actually does wink. “C’mon, a guy’s gotta have some secrets.” Then he gets up, takes his book, and goes, leaving Chris to quietly and repeatedly knock his forehead against the wall.
&&&
Zach’s out walking Noah but his phone is right there on the table.
Chris shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.
But he does.
“Boner” is still listed under recent calls. Before he can think better of it, he hits the Call button. He’s all righteous indignation until someone picks up on the other end.
“Hello?”
In a panic, Chris tries to analyze the hello. It’s not a sexy hello, not the way you’d greet your secret lover (who you don’t have, because you’re perfectly happy with Chris and his peerlessly gorgeous ass)(also cock). It’s friendly enough, but is it the hello of a casual friend or the hello of an old flame that burned with the fire of a hundred suns until it burst into supernova, scattering its heat across millions of miles of cold, sterile space?
Chris hangs up and drops the phone back onto the table.
He’s just getting his breath back when it rings again.
Boner.
“Fuck!” Chris shrieks. Motherfucking shit-eating pus-sucking caller ID.
He covers the phone with yesterday’s newspaper and runs into the bedroom.
&&&
“Chris?”
“Hrrrrngh?” Chris grunts through a mouthful of dry cereal.
“Christopher, darling?”
“Wha?” he manages.
“Is there any particular reason why I’ve got a voice mail from Matt teasing me for butt-dialing him yesterday?”
“Uhh… Going out on a limb here - you butt-dialed him yesterday?”
“Okay, first off, the iPhone is nigh impossible to dial with a butt. It is a truly advanced piece of technology. And second, were it even possible, I did not butt-dial him yesterday, because I couldn’t find my phone all afternoon. For some reason, it was under a stack of newspapers on the dining room table.”
“Huh,” Chris says, partially to sound disinterested and partially because he’s still trying to swallow the remnants of an enormous wad of Cap’n Crunch.
Zach advances on him. “Allow me to propose a hypothetical.”
“Uh, sure.”
“At some point yesterday when I left my phone unattended - perhaps I was in the bathroom, perhaps I was walking Noah, perhaps I was out on the patio - someone caught a glimpse of said phone. Someone who perhaps has been obsessing about a past relationship of mine. And perhaps this someone got it into his head to call this person.”
At this point, Zach is pacing slowly around Chris like goddamn Columbo. “For what purpose, you ask? Maybe he felt an interrogation was in order. Maybe he had planned on flying into a jealous rage. Maybe he had no plan at all. You can guess where the smart money is. Anyhow, perhaps in an uncharacteristic moment of clarity, this someone panicked, hung up the phone, and hid it in a completely asinine attempt to cover his actions.”
Chris nods furiously. “That Noah is one jealous bastard.”
Zach slumps against the kitchen counter and sighs. “Chris, why?”
His mouth falls open. “Why the hell do you think? If you would just fucking tell me whether you and Bomer fucked, none of this would have happened.”
Zach’s eyebrows pop up. “It’s that important to you?”
Overwhelmed with frustration, Chris actually flaps his arms - he fucking flaps his arms like a fucking chicken, fully aware that he’s doing it and unable to care much. “YES! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s driving me utterly batshit crazy!”
“Why?” Zach asks.
“Why? What do you mean, why? You’ve been dicking me around for days!”
“You obviously know I’ve had relationships before you. We’ve talked about some of them. In excruciating detail, if you’ll recall. And you know I’m not fucking him now. So what is this about?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Chris groans, his agony coming to a flailing head. “I just know that since you won’t tell me, it’s all I can think about.”
Zach’s arms unfold and he reaches out to Chris. “What answer would make you the happiest?”
“The true one,” Chris says, melting into Zach’s embrace even though he’s not sure he wants to.
“We fooled around a little,” Zach whispers, kissing the top of Chris’ head. “Only a few times, after parties, quick handjobs and stuff. He wanted to suck me, so I let him, and I returned the favor. But there was never any fucking. He wasn’t even sure he was gay at the time, and I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or anything. By the time senior year rolled around, we were just friends.”
It’s like the weight of the earth has lifted from his shoulders. Chris feels like weeping. “Was that so fucking difficult to say?”
“I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t think it was messing you up that badly.”
“I don’t like it when you won’t tell me stuff,” Chris mutters into Zach’s shoulder. “I know everybody needs some secrets, but I don’t want them dangled in front of my face. I want to know stuff about you, Zach. I like hearing about who you were before you met me.” He takes a shaky breath, lets it out. “Especially your sordid college years.”
Zach snorts, but doesn’t let Chris out of his arms. “’Sordid college years,’ please. This was Pittsburgh in the mid-90s. We were both awkward idiots back then.”
Chris can’t help it; he giggles. “You mean you weren’t always the suave, devilishly handsome rake I see before me?”
Zach shrugs, rubbing Chris’ back. “It was kinda sexy in a cute, fumbling way. Like you were when we first got together.”
The blush spreads up Chris’ face so fast he’s surprise he doesn’t burst into flame. “Shut up.”
“No, I mean it. You were so sweet. The first time you sucked my dick, you kept looking up at me like, ‘Am I doing this right? Does it feel good?’”
“Have you not tortured me enough already?”
“Chris, I can never torture you enough.”
“Look, I don’t know how you were raised,” Chris says, fixing Zach with a tired, put-upon look, “but that’s not a nice thing to say.”
“Poor little Chris,” Zach sighs, lower lip pushed into a condescending little pout. “How can I ever make this up to you?”
Chris pretends to think it over. “Threesome with Boner?”
“No!” Zach yelps with a surprised laugh. “He’s in a stupidly happy long-term relationship.”
“So are we! Doesn’t mean his boyfriend can’t share.”
“And he’s just a friend.” Chris opens his mouth but Zach cuts him off. “But not like you were ‘just a friend.’ Believe it or not, I don’t fantasize about Matt.”
“You-” Chris’ face contorts with confusion. “Seriously?”
Zach sighs. “I still see him as that clumsy, handsy sophomore desperate to get some after the cast party. Not bad if you’re half-drunk and already kind of horny, but not that inspiring, either. And he did not have that body back then.”
“Okay, no threesome. But can I still fantasize about you and Boner sometimes?”
Zach rolls his eyes. “Go for it.”
“Can he wear the fedora while he fucks you? In my head?”
“How about you wear a fedora and fuck me for real?” growls Zach, grabbing Chris by the belt and yanking him close for a slow, dirty kiss, all thrusting tongue and wandering hands.
All of a sudden, Chris pulls back and freezes, and Zach makes a whimpery confused noise. “Hold on,” Chris says, reaching into his back pocket. “I think I’m getting a call.”
“I didn’t hear-”
Chris puts the phone up to his ear. “Hello? Oh, hey!” He covers the mouthpiece and whispers to Zach, “Could you give me a sec? I’ve got your boner on the line.” Then, back to the phone: “Yeah, sorry, you know how he gets. I gotta say, you’re looking pretty good today, nice and… girthy. We oughtta get together some-ACK!”
Zach yanks the phone out of his hand and tosses it on the counter, dragging Chris down the hallway by the front of his shirt. “Forget the fedora. You’re gonna be wearing nothing but handcuffs and big red welts in the shape of my hand for the rest of the day. The week.”
Chris totally counts it as a win.