Dance to This (Star Trek RPF Fanfic)
Title: Dance to This
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot RPF
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,150
Disclaimer: So not true, it's not even funny. Except, hopefully it is [funny]. [and true].
Summary: Zach gets Chris out of his apartment. Chris gets Zach back into it.
Follows: Wake Up to This (Part 1) and Fall Asleep to This (Part 2)
Chris still had the phone in his hand when Zach called the second time.
“Zach. What?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m standing in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear. You do realize you called me ten minutes ago, right?”
“I want to make sure you actually leave your apartment instead of falling asleep on the couch.”
“Pshh.”
“It seems to be a trend.”
“Whatever.”
“Okay, well, hurry up.”
“Well, I’m trying, but someone keeps calling me.”
“I can’t believe you’re still picking out your outfit. It’s not like you haven't known about this for an entire week.”
“Zach, not all of us prepare our complete outfits seven days in advance. Don’t deny it.”
He didn’t. “Chris. Get dressed and get your fine ass out here.”
“I can’t resist an invitation like that. See you in a few.”
“Right.” Zach hung up.
Actually, Chris did have his outfit picked out six days ago. Only then he’d decided on a different one five days ago, then back to the first one, then he went shopping three days ago and that introduced new possibilities, and now here he was, standing in front of his closet. Just exactly how good did he want to look tonight, was the question he was pretending to ask himself, though he knew full well that the real question - the essence of the question - was this: how good did he want to look for Zach? The answer - pretty fucking good.
Ten minutes later he was on his way out the door, in a gray suit with a black shirt open at the collar, when the phone rang again. Chris let it ring four times before he finally answered.
“’lo,” he said, trying to sound as sleepy as possible.
“Don’t fuck with me, Pine.”
Chris grinned. “Zach, I’m on my way out the door. I cannot possibly fall asleep between here and the club. You trust me?”
“I guess.”
“Gee thanks. Go back inside, get yourself a drink, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Chris stepped out of the car in front of the club and headed inside. The music was loud, the lights were low, and he was immediately accosted by two girls who looked like they were about to hyperventilate as they shoved themselves into his personal space. This was supposed to be the type of place where everyone was too cool to acknowledge recognizing anyone, but apparently these two chicks hadn’t gotten the memo, if their repeated exclamations of “Oh my god, it’s Chris Pine!” were anything to go by. Chris scanned the room desperately for Zach as he extricated himself from his new best friends and made a beeline for the bar.
He ordered a beer as he tried to decide exactly how much effort he wanted to put into trying to locate Zach. The bartender thumped the bottle down in front of him, and Chris reached to pick it up.
“I don’t think so,” he heard Zach say behind him, and he felt the warm brush of an arm reaching around him to slide the bottle out of his hand. Zach gestured to the bartender and ordered two shots of tequila before he finally turned to look at Chris. “Hey.”
“Hey,” said Chris, who suddenly felt shy and short of breath. That shot of tequila was going to come in handy.
“You made it,” Zach said, stepping back and giving him a very thorough once over.
“Like what you see?” Chris asked. He did, that was for damn sure. Zach looked amazing. Chris’s hands twitched at his sides and it required some serious restraint not to jump him right then and there.
“Not too shabby,” Zach said, handing him a shot. He held his shotglass up, and Chris did the same. “To dancing.”
“Right. Dancing.” They tossed back their shots and set the glasses on the bar. Zach gestured to the bartender for two more.
“Trying to get me drunk, Quinto?”
“That was the idea.” Zach wanted to touch him, Chris could tell. He could feel Zach’s hand lingering inches away from his lower back, could see his other hand gripping the bar to keep from sliding closer. Maybe another drink would help them both forget just how bad an idea that was.
Chris took a sip of his beer. He didn’t even do anything obscene, but he could feel Zach staring at his lips nonetheless, his gaze traveling down his throat as he tipped his head back and swallowed. Then Zach reached out to pull the bottle from his grasp, giving him a warning look that said if he wanted to get out of the club with his reputation and his clothes in tact, he’d better watch it. Chris smirked and decided not to push his luck.
The sounds of Lady Gaga pounded through the club as Zach handed him the next shot of tequila. They held up their glasses, in sync with each other and the song as they mouthed “Ro ma, ro ma ma, gaga oh la la” and tossed back their shots with matching smiles. Zach took the glass from Chris’s hand and took hold of his arm, dragging him toward the dance floor. “We’re dancing to this,” he shouted over the music. “You can’t resist the call of Lady Gaga.”
Chris let himself be led, relishing the warm grip of Zach’s hand on his arm. On the dance floor, the effects of the tequila and Zach’s smoldering gaze combined to put a sway in Chris’s hips, and he let the beat flow through him as threw his arms in the air and danced. They weren’t dancing with each other - there were other people in and around them on the dance floor - but Chris was dancing for Zach. He could feel Zach’s eyes on him, and every move he made was designed to keep them there. And was he imagining things, or did Zach give him a significant look as Lady Gaga proclaimed “I don’t wanna be friends”? Or maybe he had given Zach a significant look. He kind of hoped he had. He came back to reality abruptly as he realized that the two girls who’d harassed him at the door were dancing next to him, blatantly failing in their attempt to be subtle as they edged closer. He glanced desperately across the floor, and Zach was immediately next to him, a warm hand on his back guiding him off the dance floor and away from the harpies.
“My knight in shining armor,” Chris said over the music once they’d reached the bar. He could feel the heat radiating off of Zach’s body as they stood close, as close as they dared, and then Zach was thrusting another shot of tequila into his hand. “Let me get this one,” Chris said, his eyes flicking from the shot glass to Zach’s face. “I owe you.”
Zach leaned forward so he could be heard without yelling. “This shot’s on me,” he said, his voice low and smooth in Chris’s ear, “because you’ll be drinking the next one off of me.”
Chris swayed forward, drunker on those words than he would have been on ten shots of tequila, and Zach placed a hand lightly on his shoulder to steady him. He swallowed and met Zach’s eyes, only inches away, and it was all he could do to lift his shot glass to his lips, mutter “fuck,” and tip the burning liquid down his throat. Then Zach’s hand was loose around his wrist and he let himself be led away from the bar again, not toward the dance floor this time but to the back of the club, through a maze of heavy curtains and private booths.
They ended up in a secluded corner, and then they were dancing again, together this time. Chris could only hope he looked as good as Zach did, moving in time to the music, the rhythm holding them together even as they left tantalizing inches of air between them, sharing laughter and hooded glances as their moves became a test, a challenge not to close that tempting gap. Chris couldn’t help but grin smugly as he successfully managed to keep his hands off of Zach, even as he ached to touch. Then his back was against the wall and Zach was right there, dancing in front of him, sliding a hand under Chris’s jacket and leaning forward to sneak light, dangerous kisses along his neck and shoulder.
“Remind me why we decided it was a good idea to go out again,” Chris breathed, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away.
“I have no idea,” Zach said, his hand on the wall behind Chris, his hips still moving. He pulled back to make eye contact, but his eyes were drawn to Chris’s mouth instead. Chris licked his lips unconsciously, and Zach shook his head, his eyes darkening.
Chris tipped his head toward the door.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice low.
Zach leaned closer. “Finished dancing already?”
“No,” Chris said, and he reached out to slip something into Zach’s hand.
Zach’s eyes widened as his fingers closed around the wrapped condom.
For you, Chris mouthed, touching a finger to Zach’s chest, then pushing away from the wall and dancing again, smirking as Zach stepped back to watch. Chris turned in a slow circle, or started to at least, and then Zach was up against his back, a hand drifting to his hip, and Chris leaned back into him and they moved lazily together. Chris pressed back slightly, and Zach gasped and pushed him off. Chris turned, afraid he might see anger in Zach’s expression, but there was only a ready smile as Zach cocked his head and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chris slid into the backseat of the waiting town car, and Zach followed, pulling the door closed behind him. Chris told the driver his address, and the words were barely out of his mouth before Zach was on top of him, straddling him, pressing him into the seat and kissing him desperately. Just as quickly, Chris had Zach’s shirt untucked and was running his open palms over that smooth hot skin that he’d been yearning to touch all night. All the light touches and heavy glances that they’d exchanged at the club had primed him for this moment, and he vowed not to take his hands off Zach for the rest of the night.
“I could fuck you right now,” Zach panted, pressing his erection against Chris’s belly to prove it.
Chris laughed and moaned at the same time. “Zach,” he said between kisses.
“Mm-hmm?” Zach didn’t even stop kissing him to answer.
“You make a terrible case for ever leaving my apartment again.”
“I’m surprisingly okay with that,” Zach murmured. He shifted and Chris pressed his groin harder up against Zach’s ass, remembering last weekend and wondering whether he should have kept that condom for himself after all. But then Zach was scrambling off of his lap as the car pulled up in front of his building, and they practically fell out the door, laughing and disheveled, half-running up the walkway and into the building. Chris wrestled his key into the lock of the apartment while Zach stood close against his back, hands on his hips and lips warm and hungry on the nape of his neck.
Inside, Zach pressed him up against the door in the darkness, one hand working at his fly.
“Zach,” Chris panted. “Come on. We gotta go to the bedroom.”
“Why?” Zach slid his hand around Chris’s cock.
“Just…uhhh…come on,” he panted, pushing gently against Zach’s chest, never losing contact with Zach’s body as they moved across the living room, leaving a trail of clothes behind them.
Then they were on the bed in a tangle of naked limbs, and Chris had been waiting for this moment since last time they’d been here, and all he could think about was how much he wanted this, wanted Zach’s lips on his skin and Jesus, it felt like he’d been hard for forever. Zach made a satisfied sound as their legs fit together and Chris knew what he meant, that this felt so familiar already, there was no hesitation, no nervousness, just the rush of desire and anticipation. Zach leaned over to pull open the bottom drawer of the nightstand as Chris watched, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
Zach chuckled when he got the drawer open.
Okay, so maybe he’d been a bit overzealous on the lube purchase.
“And you say you never plan ahead,” Zach said, gently mocking.
“I, uh, didn’t know which one you liked.” It was true. Okay, fine, he, so he was a little nervous.
“I kinda liked the strawberry,” Zach said with a grin.
“Oh. Um. I ran out.” He had run out, but only because he’d used the strawberry lube to jerk off four nights in a row, the smell of artificial strawberries now permanently associated with the feel of Zach’s tight heat around him. Chris groaned a little at the thought.
“You are so fucking adorable,” Zach said, closing the drawer and moving back to nuzzle into Chris’s neck.
“I prefer ‘hot’,” Chris responded, arching to give Zach better access.
Zach propped himself up on an elbow and smiled down at him. “Well, if you prefer hot, you should stop being so fucking adorable.”
Chris made a face at him and slid his hand down between them, fisting Zach’s cock with a skillful twist. He was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure.
“Adorable?” Chris asked, licking along Zach’s collarbone.
“Hot. So fucking hot,” Zach breathed.
Chris stroked him slowly, loving how Zach responded to his touch with growls and bites, until finally he pulled away roughly.
“Stop, stop,” he panted, pushing himself into a kneeling position, running a hand through his hair and tipping his head back to regain his composure. He looked back down at Chris and his expression was serious for a moment as he shook his head. “You can’t fucking do that to me, Chris.”
“Do what?” Chris asked, his eyebrow quirking in confusion.
Zach leaned down on all fours over Chris, brushed his lips against Chris’s ear. “What you do to me.”
A strange pride surged through Chris and he couldn’t help but pull Zach closer, hoping that his tongue sliding across Zach’s lips and thrusting into his mouth would have the same effect. Zach moaned and slid a knee between his legs, nudging them apart, before pausing to pop open the lube. Chris took a moment to breathe, calm, ready - and then he felt Zach’s hand slide behind his balls, and his whole body tensed. Zach smiled and kissed him softly on the chest and stomach and rubbed a finger lightly against his entrance. “Relax, Chris,” he said, looking up at him. “I’ll make this good for you, I promise.”
Chris held his eyes for one more second, then dropped his head back and breathed out “I know,” just as Zach slid a finger inside of him. It felt strange, at first, then strangely good, then strangely amazing as Zach slowly thrust his finger in and out. Zach was resting his forehead on Chris’s knee, watching, and Chris imagined what it must look like, that long finger disappearing into him and he moaned as heat and desire surged through him. Zach stretched out alongside him to kiss him deeply, distracting him as he slipped another finger in alongside the first. Chris gasped and pushed his tongue into Zach’s mouth, mimicking the movement of his fingers.
“Thanks, Zach,” Chris panted, when he finally disengaged his tongue.
Zach kept his skillful fingers deep inside Chris as he responded between kisses. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice a low, sexy vibration against Chris’s collarbone.
“I mean,” Chris gasped, bucking off the bed as Zach twisted his fingers just so, “thanks for not asking me…guhhh….for not asking me if I was sure about this.”
Zach pressed his fingers in deeply, wiggled them in a way that had Chris finding religion, and slid them out smoothly. Chris whimpered and tightened his grasp on Zach’s shoulder as their eyes met.
“I knew you meant it, Chris. The way you were looking at me at the club. I knew you wanted me, wanted to let me see you like this, wanted to feel what it’s like when I’m inside of you…”
He would have gone on, knowing Zach, but Chris didn’t let him, pulling their mouths together again roughly, and then pushing him off and saying “Do it.”
“So hot when you’re demanding,” Zach said with a grin. “Stay like this,” he said, running a hand through Chris’s hair. “I want to look at you.”
Chris didn’t mind one bit, as it meant that he got to keep his eyes on Zach, and goddamn he was gorgeous. Chris’s whole body tingled as he watched Zach’s face, his expression so intense, as though this was the most important thing he’d ever done. It felt like it too, as Zach pressed the head of his cock against his hole. Zach’s fingers brushed his hips, soothing, then gripping as he rocked back and pressed inside. They gasped in stereo and Chris’s mouth dropped open at the sensation of Zach’s length filling him, pressing deeper into him than he had thought possible. When Zach stilled, he was leaning over Chris, his hair falling into his eyes, and his body vibrating in anticipation.
“Chris, fuck. So gorgeous.”
“Fuck, Zach.”
“Fuck.”
“Hey Zach?”
“What?”
“Fuck me.”
Zach tossed his hair back, squeezed his hips, and moved. Chris fisted his hands in the sheets, as wave after wave of new sensations washed over him. Even the pain felt good, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of holy fuck, whatever that was. He thrust back against Zach and said “guhhh, keep doing that,” the last recognizable words to cross his lips as Zach drove into him, hard and fast.
That is, until he was panting “Fuck, Zach, I’m gonna come,” and arching off the bed without ever even touching himself. Streams of come splashed against his chest, and the sight drove Zach to the edge. The bruising press of fingers on his hips was Chris’s only warning as Zach slammed into him one more time, shuddering as he came, his cock pulsing as Chris clenched around him.
Chris had to bite his tongue to stem the tide of unwise confessions and propositions that wanted to come pouring out of his mouth as Zach collapsed next to him on the bed. He was somewhat grateful when Zach pulled away from him to deal with the condom, but he was even more relieved when Zach turned back and slung a lazy arm over his chest, holding him close. They lay together in silence for a few minutes before Zach spoke.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel like Zachary Quinto just fucked me senseless. And I liked it. You?”
“Same.”
Chris smiled in the darkness. “Staying?” he asked casually, relieved that the word didn’t betray any of the underlying desperation that it contained.
Zach tucked his chin into Chris’s shoulder. “You really think I could get up and leave after that?” His laugh was a puff of air against Chris’s cheek. “Plus, you know I’m a cuddler, Pine.”
Chris grinned, inordinately pleased to have been entrusted with that piece of information. He cuddled back, pulling Zach against him and kissing him lightly on the forehead. Fuck, he could get used to this. If he wasn’t already.
“Zach?”
“Yeah?” Zach tightened his arm across Chris’s chest, his voice sleepy.
“Should we ever, ya know…talk? About this?”
Zach sighed against his hair. “Not now, Chris.”
Chris closed his eyes. He let the pleasant buzz of tequila and sex overtake the nagging hum of doubt, and let the sound of Zach’s soft breathing carry him to sleep.
Chris woke up with a pounding headache, a sore ass, and soft lips pressed against his. He kissed back, keeping his eyes closed until he realized that he was missing precious seconds when he could be looking at Zachary Quinto, and then his eyes flew open and their lips curved up in matching smiles.
“’Bout time,” Zach drawled, without pulling away.
Chris squinted. “How long have you been kissing me?”
“Not long enough,” said Zach, capturing his mouth in another kiss. Chris reached up to wrap his arms around him, and they held each other as their tongues brushed lightly, sweet kisses made shallow by their smiles. They were interrupted by a soft buzzing sound.
“Phone,” said Zach, climbing out of bed with a groan. He tracked it down in the pocket of his suit pants in the living room. “I gotta get going.”
Chris nodded, and pushed himself up on an elbow as Zach started rummaging through his dresser drawers.
“What are you doing?”
“Borrowing your clothes. I didn’t pack a bag for our little sleepover and I’m sure as hell not doing a walk of shame in my suit from last night.”
He had a point. “Fine.”
Zach pulled open a drawer. “What is this, the white t-shirt drawer?”
Chris pushed himself up on an elbow. “Yeah. That a problem? You can grab a pair of track pants from the drawer on the left.”
Chris managed to drag himself out of bed just as Zach finished getting dressed. He went to the closet, reached up to the top shelf, and threw something toward Zach.
“What is this?”
“You, of all people, should recognize that as a hat.” He pointed to Zach’s head. “Got kind of a bedhead thing going on there. And I know you’re more discriminating about your hair products than you are about your hats.”
“Funny,” Zach said, but he pulled the hat on anyway.
Chris wandered into the kitchen and Zach followed. “What are you doing?”
“Making coffee.”
“Really? Don’t you usually go out for coffee?”
“Why yes I do, stalker - but usually I need to make coffee before I can get up the energy to go buy coffee.”
Zach was giving him a look. “That is ridiculous.”
Chris shrugged. “Wanna stay for a cup?”
“I can’t.” Chris kept his eyes on the coffeemaker. “But hey, uh, would you wanna get coffee tomorrow?” Zach stepped closer and leaned a hip against the counter. “And um. Ya know. What you said last night. Talk about stuff.”
Chris looked at him with his eyebrows raised. Well, that was unexpected. “Yeah, okay.”
“Yeah? Okay. I’ll call you.”
Chris nodded and they stood looking at each other for a slightly awkward moment. Zach leaned forward a little, and Chris echoed the movement until their lips met, in what Chris belatedly realized was a goodbye kiss. Zach pulled back and gave him a lopsided smile, before he turned and headed out the door.
Chris stood calmly until he heard the apartment door close. Then he spun around and rocked out a little dance, complete with finger snapping, ass wiggling, and a particularly enthusiastic air guitar finish. He opened his eyes to find Zach watching him from the doorway of the kitchen, a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Chris felt a hot blush creep up his cheeks.
“Forgot my phone,” Zach said, holding it up. “Think I’ll plan to do that more often,” he added with a wink, and held his hand out toward Chris. Chris stepped forward, and Zach pulled him close, kissing him again on the mouth, sliding a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “See you tomorrow?” Zach asked.
Chris nodded, not trusting himself to speak, or for that matter, to ever do anything again. He followed Zach out into the living room. Zach raised an eyebrow at him as he followed him to the door.
“Locking the door behind you,” Chris explained.
“Oh yeah? Gonna dance some more?”
“Damn right I am.”
“Can I watch?”
“Come back tomorrow.” He pushed the door shut.
“We never had that last shot of tequila!” Zach called through the door.
“Come back tomorrow!” Chris yelled back, and he heard Zach laugh in response.
Chris pressed his eye to the peephole, just in time to see Zach turn and blow a kiss toward the door. He watched with a smile as Zach spun on his heel and walked down the hallway, shaking his hips as he went.
Continue to Part 4: Talk About This
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot RPF
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,150
Disclaimer: So not true, it's not even funny. Except, hopefully it is [funny]. [and true].
Summary: Zach gets Chris out of his apartment. Chris gets Zach back into it.
Follows: Wake Up to This (Part 1) and Fall Asleep to This (Part 2)
Chris still had the phone in his hand when Zach called the second time.
“Zach. What?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m standing in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear. You do realize you called me ten minutes ago, right?”
“I want to make sure you actually leave your apartment instead of falling asleep on the couch.”
“Pshh.”
“It seems to be a trend.”
“Whatever.”
“Okay, well, hurry up.”
“Well, I’m trying, but someone keeps calling me.”
“I can’t believe you’re still picking out your outfit. It’s not like you haven't known about this for an entire week.”
“Zach, not all of us prepare our complete outfits seven days in advance. Don’t deny it.”
He didn’t. “Chris. Get dressed and get your fine ass out here.”
“I can’t resist an invitation like that. See you in a few.”
“Right.” Zach hung up.
Actually, Chris did have his outfit picked out six days ago. Only then he’d decided on a different one five days ago, then back to the first one, then he went shopping three days ago and that introduced new possibilities, and now here he was, standing in front of his closet. Just exactly how good did he want to look tonight, was the question he was pretending to ask himself, though he knew full well that the real question - the essence of the question - was this: how good did he want to look for Zach? The answer - pretty fucking good.
Ten minutes later he was on his way out the door, in a gray suit with a black shirt open at the collar, when the phone rang again. Chris let it ring four times before he finally answered.
“’lo,” he said, trying to sound as sleepy as possible.
“Don’t fuck with me, Pine.”
Chris grinned. “Zach, I’m on my way out the door. I cannot possibly fall asleep between here and the club. You trust me?”
“I guess.”
“Gee thanks. Go back inside, get yourself a drink, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Chris stepped out of the car in front of the club and headed inside. The music was loud, the lights were low, and he was immediately accosted by two girls who looked like they were about to hyperventilate as they shoved themselves into his personal space. This was supposed to be the type of place where everyone was too cool to acknowledge recognizing anyone, but apparently these two chicks hadn’t gotten the memo, if their repeated exclamations of “Oh my god, it’s Chris Pine!” were anything to go by. Chris scanned the room desperately for Zach as he extricated himself from his new best friends and made a beeline for the bar.
He ordered a beer as he tried to decide exactly how much effort he wanted to put into trying to locate Zach. The bartender thumped the bottle down in front of him, and Chris reached to pick it up.
“I don’t think so,” he heard Zach say behind him, and he felt the warm brush of an arm reaching around him to slide the bottle out of his hand. Zach gestured to the bartender and ordered two shots of tequila before he finally turned to look at Chris. “Hey.”
“Hey,” said Chris, who suddenly felt shy and short of breath. That shot of tequila was going to come in handy.
“You made it,” Zach said, stepping back and giving him a very thorough once over.
“Like what you see?” Chris asked. He did, that was for damn sure. Zach looked amazing. Chris’s hands twitched at his sides and it required some serious restraint not to jump him right then and there.
“Not too shabby,” Zach said, handing him a shot. He held his shotglass up, and Chris did the same. “To dancing.”
“Right. Dancing.” They tossed back their shots and set the glasses on the bar. Zach gestured to the bartender for two more.
“Trying to get me drunk, Quinto?”
“That was the idea.” Zach wanted to touch him, Chris could tell. He could feel Zach’s hand lingering inches away from his lower back, could see his other hand gripping the bar to keep from sliding closer. Maybe another drink would help them both forget just how bad an idea that was.
Chris took a sip of his beer. He didn’t even do anything obscene, but he could feel Zach staring at his lips nonetheless, his gaze traveling down his throat as he tipped his head back and swallowed. Then Zach reached out to pull the bottle from his grasp, giving him a warning look that said if he wanted to get out of the club with his reputation and his clothes in tact, he’d better watch it. Chris smirked and decided not to push his luck.
The sounds of Lady Gaga pounded through the club as Zach handed him the next shot of tequila. They held up their glasses, in sync with each other and the song as they mouthed “Ro ma, ro ma ma, gaga oh la la” and tossed back their shots with matching smiles. Zach took the glass from Chris’s hand and took hold of his arm, dragging him toward the dance floor. “We’re dancing to this,” he shouted over the music. “You can’t resist the call of Lady Gaga.”
Chris let himself be led, relishing the warm grip of Zach’s hand on his arm. On the dance floor, the effects of the tequila and Zach’s smoldering gaze combined to put a sway in Chris’s hips, and he let the beat flow through him as threw his arms in the air and danced. They weren’t dancing with each other - there were other people in and around them on the dance floor - but Chris was dancing for Zach. He could feel Zach’s eyes on him, and every move he made was designed to keep them there. And was he imagining things, or did Zach give him a significant look as Lady Gaga proclaimed “I don’t wanna be friends”? Or maybe he had given Zach a significant look. He kind of hoped he had. He came back to reality abruptly as he realized that the two girls who’d harassed him at the door were dancing next to him, blatantly failing in their attempt to be subtle as they edged closer. He glanced desperately across the floor, and Zach was immediately next to him, a warm hand on his back guiding him off the dance floor and away from the harpies.
“My knight in shining armor,” Chris said over the music once they’d reached the bar. He could feel the heat radiating off of Zach’s body as they stood close, as close as they dared, and then Zach was thrusting another shot of tequila into his hand. “Let me get this one,” Chris said, his eyes flicking from the shot glass to Zach’s face. “I owe you.”
Zach leaned forward so he could be heard without yelling. “This shot’s on me,” he said, his voice low and smooth in Chris’s ear, “because you’ll be drinking the next one off of me.”
Chris swayed forward, drunker on those words than he would have been on ten shots of tequila, and Zach placed a hand lightly on his shoulder to steady him. He swallowed and met Zach’s eyes, only inches away, and it was all he could do to lift his shot glass to his lips, mutter “fuck,” and tip the burning liquid down his throat. Then Zach’s hand was loose around his wrist and he let himself be led away from the bar again, not toward the dance floor this time but to the back of the club, through a maze of heavy curtains and private booths.
They ended up in a secluded corner, and then they were dancing again, together this time. Chris could only hope he looked as good as Zach did, moving in time to the music, the rhythm holding them together even as they left tantalizing inches of air between them, sharing laughter and hooded glances as their moves became a test, a challenge not to close that tempting gap. Chris couldn’t help but grin smugly as he successfully managed to keep his hands off of Zach, even as he ached to touch. Then his back was against the wall and Zach was right there, dancing in front of him, sliding a hand under Chris’s jacket and leaning forward to sneak light, dangerous kisses along his neck and shoulder.
“Remind me why we decided it was a good idea to go out again,” Chris breathed, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away.
“I have no idea,” Zach said, his hand on the wall behind Chris, his hips still moving. He pulled back to make eye contact, but his eyes were drawn to Chris’s mouth instead. Chris licked his lips unconsciously, and Zach shook his head, his eyes darkening.
Chris tipped his head toward the door.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, his voice low.
Zach leaned closer. “Finished dancing already?”
“No,” Chris said, and he reached out to slip something into Zach’s hand.
Zach’s eyes widened as his fingers closed around the wrapped condom.
For you, Chris mouthed, touching a finger to Zach’s chest, then pushing away from the wall and dancing again, smirking as Zach stepped back to watch. Chris turned in a slow circle, or started to at least, and then Zach was up against his back, a hand drifting to his hip, and Chris leaned back into him and they moved lazily together. Chris pressed back slightly, and Zach gasped and pushed him off. Chris turned, afraid he might see anger in Zach’s expression, but there was only a ready smile as Zach cocked his head and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chris slid into the backseat of the waiting town car, and Zach followed, pulling the door closed behind him. Chris told the driver his address, and the words were barely out of his mouth before Zach was on top of him, straddling him, pressing him into the seat and kissing him desperately. Just as quickly, Chris had Zach’s shirt untucked and was running his open palms over that smooth hot skin that he’d been yearning to touch all night. All the light touches and heavy glances that they’d exchanged at the club had primed him for this moment, and he vowed not to take his hands off Zach for the rest of the night.
“I could fuck you right now,” Zach panted, pressing his erection against Chris’s belly to prove it.
Chris laughed and moaned at the same time. “Zach,” he said between kisses.
“Mm-hmm?” Zach didn’t even stop kissing him to answer.
“You make a terrible case for ever leaving my apartment again.”
“I’m surprisingly okay with that,” Zach murmured. He shifted and Chris pressed his groin harder up against Zach’s ass, remembering last weekend and wondering whether he should have kept that condom for himself after all. But then Zach was scrambling off of his lap as the car pulled up in front of his building, and they practically fell out the door, laughing and disheveled, half-running up the walkway and into the building. Chris wrestled his key into the lock of the apartment while Zach stood close against his back, hands on his hips and lips warm and hungry on the nape of his neck.
Inside, Zach pressed him up against the door in the darkness, one hand working at his fly.
“Zach,” Chris panted. “Come on. We gotta go to the bedroom.”
“Why?” Zach slid his hand around Chris’s cock.
“Just…uhhh…come on,” he panted, pushing gently against Zach’s chest, never losing contact with Zach’s body as they moved across the living room, leaving a trail of clothes behind them.
Then they were on the bed in a tangle of naked limbs, and Chris had been waiting for this moment since last time they’d been here, and all he could think about was how much he wanted this, wanted Zach’s lips on his skin and Jesus, it felt like he’d been hard for forever. Zach made a satisfied sound as their legs fit together and Chris knew what he meant, that this felt so familiar already, there was no hesitation, no nervousness, just the rush of desire and anticipation. Zach leaned over to pull open the bottom drawer of the nightstand as Chris watched, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
Zach chuckled when he got the drawer open.
Okay, so maybe he’d been a bit overzealous on the lube purchase.
“And you say you never plan ahead,” Zach said, gently mocking.
“I, uh, didn’t know which one you liked.” It was true. Okay, fine, he, so he was a little nervous.
“I kinda liked the strawberry,” Zach said with a grin.
“Oh. Um. I ran out.” He had run out, but only because he’d used the strawberry lube to jerk off four nights in a row, the smell of artificial strawberries now permanently associated with the feel of Zach’s tight heat around him. Chris groaned a little at the thought.
“You are so fucking adorable,” Zach said, closing the drawer and moving back to nuzzle into Chris’s neck.
“I prefer ‘hot’,” Chris responded, arching to give Zach better access.
Zach propped himself up on an elbow and smiled down at him. “Well, if you prefer hot, you should stop being so fucking adorable.”
Chris made a face at him and slid his hand down between them, fisting Zach’s cock with a skillful twist. He was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure.
“Adorable?” Chris asked, licking along Zach’s collarbone.
“Hot. So fucking hot,” Zach breathed.
Chris stroked him slowly, loving how Zach responded to his touch with growls and bites, until finally he pulled away roughly.
“Stop, stop,” he panted, pushing himself into a kneeling position, running a hand through his hair and tipping his head back to regain his composure. He looked back down at Chris and his expression was serious for a moment as he shook his head. “You can’t fucking do that to me, Chris.”
“Do what?” Chris asked, his eyebrow quirking in confusion.
Zach leaned down on all fours over Chris, brushed his lips against Chris’s ear. “What you do to me.”
A strange pride surged through Chris and he couldn’t help but pull Zach closer, hoping that his tongue sliding across Zach’s lips and thrusting into his mouth would have the same effect. Zach moaned and slid a knee between his legs, nudging them apart, before pausing to pop open the lube. Chris took a moment to breathe, calm, ready - and then he felt Zach’s hand slide behind his balls, and his whole body tensed. Zach smiled and kissed him softly on the chest and stomach and rubbed a finger lightly against his entrance. “Relax, Chris,” he said, looking up at him. “I’ll make this good for you, I promise.”
Chris held his eyes for one more second, then dropped his head back and breathed out “I know,” just as Zach slid a finger inside of him. It felt strange, at first, then strangely good, then strangely amazing as Zach slowly thrust his finger in and out. Zach was resting his forehead on Chris’s knee, watching, and Chris imagined what it must look like, that long finger disappearing into him and he moaned as heat and desire surged through him. Zach stretched out alongside him to kiss him deeply, distracting him as he slipped another finger in alongside the first. Chris gasped and pushed his tongue into Zach’s mouth, mimicking the movement of his fingers.
“Thanks, Zach,” Chris panted, when he finally disengaged his tongue.
Zach kept his skillful fingers deep inside Chris as he responded between kisses. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice a low, sexy vibration against Chris’s collarbone.
“I mean,” Chris gasped, bucking off the bed as Zach twisted his fingers just so, “thanks for not asking me…guhhh….for not asking me if I was sure about this.”
Zach pressed his fingers in deeply, wiggled them in a way that had Chris finding religion, and slid them out smoothly. Chris whimpered and tightened his grasp on Zach’s shoulder as their eyes met.
“I knew you meant it, Chris. The way you were looking at me at the club. I knew you wanted me, wanted to let me see you like this, wanted to feel what it’s like when I’m inside of you…”
He would have gone on, knowing Zach, but Chris didn’t let him, pulling their mouths together again roughly, and then pushing him off and saying “Do it.”
“So hot when you’re demanding,” Zach said with a grin. “Stay like this,” he said, running a hand through Chris’s hair. “I want to look at you.”
Chris didn’t mind one bit, as it meant that he got to keep his eyes on Zach, and goddamn he was gorgeous. Chris’s whole body tingled as he watched Zach’s face, his expression so intense, as though this was the most important thing he’d ever done. It felt like it too, as Zach pressed the head of his cock against his hole. Zach’s fingers brushed his hips, soothing, then gripping as he rocked back and pressed inside. They gasped in stereo and Chris’s mouth dropped open at the sensation of Zach’s length filling him, pressing deeper into him than he had thought possible. When Zach stilled, he was leaning over Chris, his hair falling into his eyes, and his body vibrating in anticipation.
“Chris, fuck. So gorgeous.”
“Fuck, Zach.”
“Fuck.”
“Hey Zach?”
“What?”
“Fuck me.”
Zach tossed his hair back, squeezed his hips, and moved. Chris fisted his hands in the sheets, as wave after wave of new sensations washed over him. Even the pain felt good, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of holy fuck, whatever that was. He thrust back against Zach and said “guhhh, keep doing that,” the last recognizable words to cross his lips as Zach drove into him, hard and fast.
That is, until he was panting “Fuck, Zach, I’m gonna come,” and arching off the bed without ever even touching himself. Streams of come splashed against his chest, and the sight drove Zach to the edge. The bruising press of fingers on his hips was Chris’s only warning as Zach slammed into him one more time, shuddering as he came, his cock pulsing as Chris clenched around him.
Chris had to bite his tongue to stem the tide of unwise confessions and propositions that wanted to come pouring out of his mouth as Zach collapsed next to him on the bed. He was somewhat grateful when Zach pulled away from him to deal with the condom, but he was even more relieved when Zach turned back and slung a lazy arm over his chest, holding him close. They lay together in silence for a few minutes before Zach spoke.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel like Zachary Quinto just fucked me senseless. And I liked it. You?”
“Same.”
Chris smiled in the darkness. “Staying?” he asked casually, relieved that the word didn’t betray any of the underlying desperation that it contained.
Zach tucked his chin into Chris’s shoulder. “You really think I could get up and leave after that?” His laugh was a puff of air against Chris’s cheek. “Plus, you know I’m a cuddler, Pine.”
Chris grinned, inordinately pleased to have been entrusted with that piece of information. He cuddled back, pulling Zach against him and kissing him lightly on the forehead. Fuck, he could get used to this. If he wasn’t already.
“Zach?”
“Yeah?” Zach tightened his arm across Chris’s chest, his voice sleepy.
“Should we ever, ya know…talk? About this?”
Zach sighed against his hair. “Not now, Chris.”
Chris closed his eyes. He let the pleasant buzz of tequila and sex overtake the nagging hum of doubt, and let the sound of Zach’s soft breathing carry him to sleep.
Chris woke up with a pounding headache, a sore ass, and soft lips pressed against his. He kissed back, keeping his eyes closed until he realized that he was missing precious seconds when he could be looking at Zachary Quinto, and then his eyes flew open and their lips curved up in matching smiles.
“’Bout time,” Zach drawled, without pulling away.
Chris squinted. “How long have you been kissing me?”
“Not long enough,” said Zach, capturing his mouth in another kiss. Chris reached up to wrap his arms around him, and they held each other as their tongues brushed lightly, sweet kisses made shallow by their smiles. They were interrupted by a soft buzzing sound.
“Phone,” said Zach, climbing out of bed with a groan. He tracked it down in the pocket of his suit pants in the living room. “I gotta get going.”
Chris nodded, and pushed himself up on an elbow as Zach started rummaging through his dresser drawers.
“What are you doing?”
“Borrowing your clothes. I didn’t pack a bag for our little sleepover and I’m sure as hell not doing a walk of shame in my suit from last night.”
He had a point. “Fine.”
Zach pulled open a drawer. “What is this, the white t-shirt drawer?”
Chris pushed himself up on an elbow. “Yeah. That a problem? You can grab a pair of track pants from the drawer on the left.”
Chris managed to drag himself out of bed just as Zach finished getting dressed. He went to the closet, reached up to the top shelf, and threw something toward Zach.
“What is this?”
“You, of all people, should recognize that as a hat.” He pointed to Zach’s head. “Got kind of a bedhead thing going on there. And I know you’re more discriminating about your hair products than you are about your hats.”
“Funny,” Zach said, but he pulled the hat on anyway.
Chris wandered into the kitchen and Zach followed. “What are you doing?”
“Making coffee.”
“Really? Don’t you usually go out for coffee?”
“Why yes I do, stalker - but usually I need to make coffee before I can get up the energy to go buy coffee.”
Zach was giving him a look. “That is ridiculous.”
Chris shrugged. “Wanna stay for a cup?”
“I can’t.” Chris kept his eyes on the coffeemaker. “But hey, uh, would you wanna get coffee tomorrow?” Zach stepped closer and leaned a hip against the counter. “And um. Ya know. What you said last night. Talk about stuff.”
Chris looked at him with his eyebrows raised. Well, that was unexpected. “Yeah, okay.”
“Yeah? Okay. I’ll call you.”
Chris nodded and they stood looking at each other for a slightly awkward moment. Zach leaned forward a little, and Chris echoed the movement until their lips met, in what Chris belatedly realized was a goodbye kiss. Zach pulled back and gave him a lopsided smile, before he turned and headed out the door.
Chris stood calmly until he heard the apartment door close. Then he spun around and rocked out a little dance, complete with finger snapping, ass wiggling, and a particularly enthusiastic air guitar finish. He opened his eyes to find Zach watching him from the doorway of the kitchen, a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Chris felt a hot blush creep up his cheeks.
“Forgot my phone,” Zach said, holding it up. “Think I’ll plan to do that more often,” he added with a wink, and held his hand out toward Chris. Chris stepped forward, and Zach pulled him close, kissing him again on the mouth, sliding a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “See you tomorrow?” Zach asked.
Chris nodded, not trusting himself to speak, or for that matter, to ever do anything again. He followed Zach out into the living room. Zach raised an eyebrow at him as he followed him to the door.
“Locking the door behind you,” Chris explained.
“Oh yeah? Gonna dance some more?”
“Damn right I am.”
“Can I watch?”
“Come back tomorrow.” He pushed the door shut.
“We never had that last shot of tequila!” Zach called through the door.
“Come back tomorrow!” Chris yelled back, and he heard Zach laugh in response.
Chris pressed his eye to the peephole, just in time to see Zach turn and blow a kiss toward the door. He watched with a smile as Zach spun on his heel and walked down the hallway, shaking his hips as he went.
Continue to Part 4: Talk About This