I Can't Remember But it's Alright, Alright (Star Trek RPF)
Title: I Can’t Remember, But it’s Alright, Alright
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,475
Description: The morning after. (A follow up to Can’t See Straight.)
Disclaimer: Everything here is fiction and is not based on any knowledge of reality, real people, or real situations.
A/N: I probably should have left well enough alone with this one, but hell, I wanted to know what happened. So, I wrote this.
Zach cracked one eyelid open and swallowed dryly. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He felt naked.
“Mmmfffff.”
Zach was pretty sure that wasn’t Noah. He turned his head slowly, wincing, and set it gently back down on the pillow as he stared into Chris Pine’s bleary blue eyes.
“Hi Zach. Am I dead?” Chris mumbled.
Zach’s first attempt at an answer sounded like “hngggghhhh.” He tried again. “I don’t think so,” he said hoarsely.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut. “’D’you ‘member last night?” he asked.
“Parts,” Zach answered, closing his eyes. Maybe if they both kept their eyes closed, they could sleep until it was time to start filming the sequel.
“Which parts?”
“Um. Your parts,” Zach admitted. He cracked his eye open again.
Against his will, Chris was slowly starting to wake up. He was now awake enough to realize that his entire body was sore, and his head swam as he tried to wade through the fog of his memories.
“On the dance floor when we-“
“Yep.”
“How did we get home? Here, I mean?”
“No idea.” Zach rolled over onto his back, stretching and rubbing his hands over his face. He felt more awake now, which was not necessarily a good thing.
Chris shifted in the bed and pain shot through him. He hurt in places he could not recall ever hurting before. “Ow, fuck that hurts. The fuck did you do to me?"
"What did I do to you, hmm, let's see,” Zach mused, staring up at the ceiling. “Well seeing as you begged me to fuck you...'put your fucking cock in my ass' was I believe the way you phrased it..."
"Yeah, okay, I kinda remember that part. Fuck. And then, you did." He squirmed in discomfort, trying to remember what had happened next. "And it was...nice?" he guessed.
"It was nice," Zach confirmed. “Frantic, but nice - that is, until you jumped off my dick like your ass was on fire and ran into the bathroom to vomit."
Chris wrinkled his nose. "Shit. Sorry man."
"Yeaahhhh." He rolled back over, trying to get comfortable.
Chris propped himself up on his elbows slowly, trying hard not to move any other part of his body.
He glanced over the side of the bed onto the floor and spotted Noah's water bowl, empty and propped at an angle against the baseboard.
Something nagged at the back of his head. "Oh fuck. I was really, really hoping that was a dream. That’s fucking disgusting.”
"Wow, I mean I knew it wasn't ideal but was it really that terrible?" Zach said into his pillow.
"What? No, no not that. I just...I think I drank the water out of Noah’s bowl last night."
Zach lolled his head over to stare at him. "What."
"Ew. Ew, ew, ew." He caught Zach's incredulous look. "I was really thirsty and drunk and I just saw it there and...shit."
Chris rolled off the bed, pulling half the sheet off with him, and managed to stand up and stumble, still naked, into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Zach winced at the muffled sounds of dry heaving and wished that breathing didn't hurt. He heard the toilet flush and then a groan and then a muttered "what the fuck?" before the door opened again.
"Any idea how I got this bruise?" he said, leaning down so his face was in front of Zach's.
"Oh shit," Zach said. Chris had a dark purple bruise across the bridge of his nose. "You look terrible."
"Gee, thanks. You don't look so hot yourself, jackass." He stumbled away from the bed toward the door of the bedroom.
“Where’re you going?” Zach asked.
“I gotta go home,” Chris said, right before he lay down in the doorway and curled himself into a ball. Zach lifted his head slightly to see.
“That’s not home, Chris.”
“Mmm, close enough,” Chris mumbled, tucking his head into his knees.
“You’re still naked,” Zach observed.
“So’re you,” Chris muttered back without looking.
So he was. He reached down and pulled the sheet over himself, snuggling back into his pillow. Then he groaned, sat up, tossed a blanket off the bed towards Chris’s prone form, and went back to sleep.
When Zach woke up again, Chris was gone from the floor, but he was still in the house. Zach could hear his footsteps and muttered curses from the direction of the kitchen. The footsteps came closer and he felt the mattress sink down beside him.
"So, um, I think I figured out how I got this bruise," Chris said. "On a related note, you need a new coffee table."
Zach pulled a pillow over his head.
"Also, I couldn’t figure out how to work the coffee maker.”
Zach lifted the pillow and gave Chris a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? It’s a fucking Mr. Coffee. There’s, like, two steps involved.”
Chris shrugged. “So I'm just gonna lie here for a while longer, that cool?" He didn't wait for an answer, pulling the blanket up to his chin and snuggling in amongst the pillows.
"Uh huh," Zach managed, rolling on his side to face him.
"Don't, like, touch me or anything," Chris mumbled.
"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetcheeks," Zach said.
The next time he woke up, it was to the sound of his phone, buzzing on the bedside table. Apparently he’d made it out of that drunken shitshow of a night without losing his phone. Impressive. Zach looked at it blearily. It was Zoe, and it was 2:30 in the afternoon.
"Unghff."
"Morning babies. How you guys doin'?"
"Um." Zach struggled to think. "We got home okay?"
"Yeah, no shit, Karl and I dropped you off."
"Oh. You did?"
"Uh huh. Sweetie, what's the last thing you remember at the club?" Zach heard her say "ow!" and then a hissed "don't act like you don't wanna know" to someone on her end of the phone.
Zach squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't wanna talk about it."
He could hear Zoe putting her hand over the speaker, which didn't at all prevent him from hearing her say, rather smugly he thought, "Zach remembers."
"Thanks for your support," he said drily. "And in answer to your and Karl's inevitable question, Chris remembers too."
"Chris remembers! Awww!"
"Fuck you both. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to sleep for approximately 18 more hours before this hangover wears off." He hit End and slammed the phone back onto the bedside table.
Zoe somehow managed to wait until 4:30 before she called again. By that time, Zach had managed a hot shower and felt slightly more human, his hangover reduced to a dull ache in the back of his head and a nagging sense that he should feel a lot worse about the events of the previous night than he actually did. Chris had made it out of bed too, he noticed, so he leaned in the door of the bathroom, balancing the phone with his shoulder.
"Hey Chris, how you feeling?"
"Fine." Chris' voice seemed to originate from the bottom of the tub, even though the shower was definitely on.
"It's like a sauna in here."
"I'm cleansing my pores."
"Uh huh. Well, Karl and Zoe are on the phone, they want to know if you're...what was it, guys? Oh yeah, if you're quote 'freaking out or traumatized'."
"Are those the only two choices?" Chris asked, slumping his head back against the edge of the tub. "What are they doing, anyway?"
"As far as I can tell, they're sitting around making fun of us - is that an accurate assessment?" he asked into the phone. "Yeah. That's what they're doing."
"Wonderful. Please thank them for concerning themselves with my mental state and tell them they can go back to painting each others' toenails and giggling."
Zach was stretched out on the couch when Chris finally showed up into the living room, wearing a pair of yoga pants and one of Zach's worn t-shirts. He wandered passed the remnants of the coffee table to the couch, and Zach let out a small "ooof" as Chris dropped onto his thighs, straddling him.
"Uh. Hi?" Zach asked.
"Hey."
"You're wearing my pants."
"Very observant," Chris said, patting him lightly on the stomach.
"You're not wearing anything under them, are you?"
Chris raised an eyebrow. "Well, that answers that question," he said.
"What question?"
"Where does Zach look first," he answered, cracking a smile.
"Ugh. Get off of me, ingrate."
“How do you feel?”
“Somewhat functional. You?”
“Yeah. Better. Still trying to work out my love-hate relationship with alcohol though.”
“Yeah. Mine’s pretty much in the hate zone right now.”
Chris looked at him silently for a long moment. "Hey Zach."
"What?"
"Do you remember...." He blinked once and slowly slipped the length of his index finger into his mouth.
Fuck. Zach exhaled a shaky breath. Chris raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"Yeah," Zach breathed. "Last night..." No matter how hazy his memory of last night, he wasn’t about to forget that image of Chris, seductive and reckless, his blue eyes two shades darker with lust.
Chris nodded and slid the finger out. "And then?" he asked softly.
"And then..." Zach reached up to grab hold of Chris's wrist, pulling it towards his mouth, as Chris scooted forward to let him. He took two of Chris’s fingers between his lips and swirled his tongue around them, letting his eyes close as he heard Chris moan softly. Chris pulled his fingers out and trailed them along Zach’s bare torso, slipping them just under the waistband of Zach’s sweatpants. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss against Zach’s lips.
“Do you want to…try again?” Chris whispered, and there were those dark blue eyes once more.
Zach looked at him with an unreadable expression. “I hate alcohol,” he said hoarsely, “but I fucking love the effect that it has on you.”
Without a word, Chris pushed himself off of Zach’s lap and stood up, walking across the living room. Zach lay on the couch for another moment, listening as he heard Chris enter the kitchen, then the sound of cabinets opening and the clinking of glasses. Finally, he stood up and followed.
Chris had pulled a bottle of wine from the rack and was setting two glasses on the counter beside it. Zach moved to stand behind him, settling his hands lightly on Chris’s hips.
“Chris,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean… We don’t really have to drink to…do this.” He pressed a kiss to Chris’s neck, still damp from the shower.
Chris sagged forward, his hands braced against the counter. “Oh thank God,” he said with a weak laugh. He gestured to the bottle and glasses in front of him. “Just looking at this stuff was making me kind of nauseous.”
Zach chuckled and tightened his hands on Chris’s hips, kissing his neck again, and then again until Chris leaned back against him, turning his head to meet Zach’s lips. Their tongues slid together messily and Zach shifted closer, moaning as his erection pressed against Chris’s ass. He rocked slowly against him, and the thin fabric of their loose pants left nothing to the imagination. Chris snaked a hand around Zach’s neck, biting at his bottom lip and wiggling against Zach's hard length. With a groan, Zach pushed the yoga pants down over Chris’s hips, then did the same with his own and suddenly they were skin to skin. Zach took hold of his cock, smeared his thumb across the tip and maneuvered until he could slide between Chris’s legs. He nudged the head of his cock against Chris’s entrance, and felt Chris tense up, heard him breathe in with a sharp hiss.
“Shit, sorry. I should grab some lube.”
“No,” Chris said with a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I think…fuck, it hurts too much, I’m sorry, Zach.”
“Shh, ‘s okay,” Zach said softly against his neck. “We don’t have to. Just, here…” He gripped Chris’s hips, holding him still, and shifted so his cock was flush against the cleft of Chris’s ass. He moved against him, testing the friction, gasping as Chris pressed back. “Fuck,” he groaned, wrapping an arm around Chris’s chest to pull him close as Chris steadied himself against the counter. Zach quickened the pace of his thrusts, the mix of sweat and precome just enough so that he could slide easily against Chris’s skin without losing any of that precious friction. He couldn’t help the sounds that spilled from his mouth, short, ragged grunts against Chris’s neck, and it took the last of his control to reach forward and wrap a fist around Chris’s cock. Chris moaned and clenched his ass and Zach shuddered and came with a cry, sinking his teeth into the smooth skin of Chris’s shoulder. Chris felt Zach’s cock pulse against him, felt the hot splash of come across his back, and let go of the counter to wrap his hand around Zach’s. He stroked himself furiously, right on the edge, then he squeezed his eyes shut and came hard across the kitchen counter.
“Zach,” he said, after he’d caught his breath.
“Huh?” Zach was slumped against him, shaking and trying not to pass out from the energy-draining orgasm-hangover combination.
“I think I need to collapse now.”
“Uh huh.”
“Think you can stop leaning on me long enough to make it to the bedroom?”
“Doubtful.”
“Well, try. I love you, but I’m not sure my legs can support both of us right now.”
“You what?” Zach straightened up.
“Wow, that worked.” Chris said with a smile, stepping away from him and heading for the bedroom.
“Wait, what did you say?” Zach chased after him, but Chris only grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the bedroom, where they collapsed in a heap on the bed. “Say it again,” Zach pleaded.
“I will,” Chris said, running his fingers through Zach’s damp hair. “But I think I’m going to take a nap first.”
Zach sighed and nuzzled at the skin beneath Chris’s ear. “So, I guess this means you’re not freaked out, or traumatized?” he asked, still not quite believing, despite the evidence.
“No, Zach,” Chris said back to him, resting a hand on Zach’s hip and stroking his thumb over bare skin. “Although…”
“What?”
“I am a little scared about how you’re going to react when you awake from your lust-filled haze and realize that I jizzed all over your kitchen counter.”
Zach laughed softly and nipped lightly at his earlobe. “Well then,” he said, “you’d better make sure that I never wake up.”
Part 3 / End: Karl has a story...
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,475
Description: The morning after. (A follow up to Can’t See Straight.)
Disclaimer: Everything here is fiction and is not based on any knowledge of reality, real people, or real situations.
A/N: I probably should have left well enough alone with this one, but hell, I wanted to know what happened. So, I wrote this.
Zach cracked one eyelid open and swallowed dryly. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He felt naked.
“Mmmfffff.”
Zach was pretty sure that wasn’t Noah. He turned his head slowly, wincing, and set it gently back down on the pillow as he stared into Chris Pine’s bleary blue eyes.
“Hi Zach. Am I dead?” Chris mumbled.
Zach’s first attempt at an answer sounded like “hngggghhhh.” He tried again. “I don’t think so,” he said hoarsely.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut. “’D’you ‘member last night?” he asked.
“Parts,” Zach answered, closing his eyes. Maybe if they both kept their eyes closed, they could sleep until it was time to start filming the sequel.
“Which parts?”
“Um. Your parts,” Zach admitted. He cracked his eye open again.
Against his will, Chris was slowly starting to wake up. He was now awake enough to realize that his entire body was sore, and his head swam as he tried to wade through the fog of his memories.
“On the dance floor when we-“
“Yep.”
“How did we get home? Here, I mean?”
“No idea.” Zach rolled over onto his back, stretching and rubbing his hands over his face. He felt more awake now, which was not necessarily a good thing.
Chris shifted in the bed and pain shot through him. He hurt in places he could not recall ever hurting before. “Ow, fuck that hurts. The fuck did you do to me?"
"What did I do to you, hmm, let's see,” Zach mused, staring up at the ceiling. “Well seeing as you begged me to fuck you...'put your fucking cock in my ass' was I believe the way you phrased it..."
"Yeah, okay, I kinda remember that part. Fuck. And then, you did." He squirmed in discomfort, trying to remember what had happened next. "And it was...nice?" he guessed.
"It was nice," Zach confirmed. “Frantic, but nice - that is, until you jumped off my dick like your ass was on fire and ran into the bathroom to vomit."
Chris wrinkled his nose. "Shit. Sorry man."
"Yeaahhhh." He rolled back over, trying to get comfortable.
Chris propped himself up on his elbows slowly, trying hard not to move any other part of his body.
He glanced over the side of the bed onto the floor and spotted Noah's water bowl, empty and propped at an angle against the baseboard.
Something nagged at the back of his head. "Oh fuck. I was really, really hoping that was a dream. That’s fucking disgusting.”
"Wow, I mean I knew it wasn't ideal but was it really that terrible?" Zach said into his pillow.
"What? No, no not that. I just...I think I drank the water out of Noah’s bowl last night."
Zach lolled his head over to stare at him. "What."
"Ew. Ew, ew, ew." He caught Zach's incredulous look. "I was really thirsty and drunk and I just saw it there and...shit."
Chris rolled off the bed, pulling half the sheet off with him, and managed to stand up and stumble, still naked, into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Zach winced at the muffled sounds of dry heaving and wished that breathing didn't hurt. He heard the toilet flush and then a groan and then a muttered "what the fuck?" before the door opened again.
"Any idea how I got this bruise?" he said, leaning down so his face was in front of Zach's.
"Oh shit," Zach said. Chris had a dark purple bruise across the bridge of his nose. "You look terrible."
"Gee, thanks. You don't look so hot yourself, jackass." He stumbled away from the bed toward the door of the bedroom.
“Where’re you going?” Zach asked.
“I gotta go home,” Chris said, right before he lay down in the doorway and curled himself into a ball. Zach lifted his head slightly to see.
“That’s not home, Chris.”
“Mmm, close enough,” Chris mumbled, tucking his head into his knees.
“You’re still naked,” Zach observed.
“So’re you,” Chris muttered back without looking.
So he was. He reached down and pulled the sheet over himself, snuggling back into his pillow. Then he groaned, sat up, tossed a blanket off the bed towards Chris’s prone form, and went back to sleep.
When Zach woke up again, Chris was gone from the floor, but he was still in the house. Zach could hear his footsteps and muttered curses from the direction of the kitchen. The footsteps came closer and he felt the mattress sink down beside him.
"So, um, I think I figured out how I got this bruise," Chris said. "On a related note, you need a new coffee table."
Zach pulled a pillow over his head.
"Also, I couldn’t figure out how to work the coffee maker.”
Zach lifted the pillow and gave Chris a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding me? It’s a fucking Mr. Coffee. There’s, like, two steps involved.”
Chris shrugged. “So I'm just gonna lie here for a while longer, that cool?" He didn't wait for an answer, pulling the blanket up to his chin and snuggling in amongst the pillows.
"Uh huh," Zach managed, rolling on his side to face him.
"Don't, like, touch me or anything," Chris mumbled.
"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetcheeks," Zach said.
The next time he woke up, it was to the sound of his phone, buzzing on the bedside table. Apparently he’d made it out of that drunken shitshow of a night without losing his phone. Impressive. Zach looked at it blearily. It was Zoe, and it was 2:30 in the afternoon.
"Unghff."
"Morning babies. How you guys doin'?"
"Um." Zach struggled to think. "We got home okay?"
"Yeah, no shit, Karl and I dropped you off."
"Oh. You did?"
"Uh huh. Sweetie, what's the last thing you remember at the club?" Zach heard her say "ow!" and then a hissed "don't act like you don't wanna know" to someone on her end of the phone.
Zach squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't wanna talk about it."
He could hear Zoe putting her hand over the speaker, which didn't at all prevent him from hearing her say, rather smugly he thought, "Zach remembers."
"Thanks for your support," he said drily. "And in answer to your and Karl's inevitable question, Chris remembers too."
"Chris remembers! Awww!"
"Fuck you both. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to sleep for approximately 18 more hours before this hangover wears off." He hit End and slammed the phone back onto the bedside table.
Zoe somehow managed to wait until 4:30 before she called again. By that time, Zach had managed a hot shower and felt slightly more human, his hangover reduced to a dull ache in the back of his head and a nagging sense that he should feel a lot worse about the events of the previous night than he actually did. Chris had made it out of bed too, he noticed, so he leaned in the door of the bathroom, balancing the phone with his shoulder.
"Hey Chris, how you feeling?"
"Fine." Chris' voice seemed to originate from the bottom of the tub, even though the shower was definitely on.
"It's like a sauna in here."
"I'm cleansing my pores."
"Uh huh. Well, Karl and Zoe are on the phone, they want to know if you're...what was it, guys? Oh yeah, if you're quote 'freaking out or traumatized'."
"Are those the only two choices?" Chris asked, slumping his head back against the edge of the tub. "What are they doing, anyway?"
"As far as I can tell, they're sitting around making fun of us - is that an accurate assessment?" he asked into the phone. "Yeah. That's what they're doing."
"Wonderful. Please thank them for concerning themselves with my mental state and tell them they can go back to painting each others' toenails and giggling."
Zach was stretched out on the couch when Chris finally showed up into the living room, wearing a pair of yoga pants and one of Zach's worn t-shirts. He wandered passed the remnants of the coffee table to the couch, and Zach let out a small "ooof" as Chris dropped onto his thighs, straddling him.
"Uh. Hi?" Zach asked.
"Hey."
"You're wearing my pants."
"Very observant," Chris said, patting him lightly on the stomach.
"You're not wearing anything under them, are you?"
Chris raised an eyebrow. "Well, that answers that question," he said.
"What question?"
"Where does Zach look first," he answered, cracking a smile.
"Ugh. Get off of me, ingrate."
“How do you feel?”
“Somewhat functional. You?”
“Yeah. Better. Still trying to work out my love-hate relationship with alcohol though.”
“Yeah. Mine’s pretty much in the hate zone right now.”
Chris looked at him silently for a long moment. "Hey Zach."
"What?"
"Do you remember...." He blinked once and slowly slipped the length of his index finger into his mouth.
Fuck. Zach exhaled a shaky breath. Chris raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"Yeah," Zach breathed. "Last night..." No matter how hazy his memory of last night, he wasn’t about to forget that image of Chris, seductive and reckless, his blue eyes two shades darker with lust.
Chris nodded and slid the finger out. "And then?" he asked softly.
"And then..." Zach reached up to grab hold of Chris's wrist, pulling it towards his mouth, as Chris scooted forward to let him. He took two of Chris’s fingers between his lips and swirled his tongue around them, letting his eyes close as he heard Chris moan softly. Chris pulled his fingers out and trailed them along Zach’s bare torso, slipping them just under the waistband of Zach’s sweatpants. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss against Zach’s lips.
“Do you want to…try again?” Chris whispered, and there were those dark blue eyes once more.
Zach looked at him with an unreadable expression. “I hate alcohol,” he said hoarsely, “but I fucking love the effect that it has on you.”
Without a word, Chris pushed himself off of Zach’s lap and stood up, walking across the living room. Zach lay on the couch for another moment, listening as he heard Chris enter the kitchen, then the sound of cabinets opening and the clinking of glasses. Finally, he stood up and followed.
Chris had pulled a bottle of wine from the rack and was setting two glasses on the counter beside it. Zach moved to stand behind him, settling his hands lightly on Chris’s hips.
“Chris,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean… We don’t really have to drink to…do this.” He pressed a kiss to Chris’s neck, still damp from the shower.
Chris sagged forward, his hands braced against the counter. “Oh thank God,” he said with a weak laugh. He gestured to the bottle and glasses in front of him. “Just looking at this stuff was making me kind of nauseous.”
Zach chuckled and tightened his hands on Chris’s hips, kissing his neck again, and then again until Chris leaned back against him, turning his head to meet Zach’s lips. Their tongues slid together messily and Zach shifted closer, moaning as his erection pressed against Chris’s ass. He rocked slowly against him, and the thin fabric of their loose pants left nothing to the imagination. Chris snaked a hand around Zach’s neck, biting at his bottom lip and wiggling against Zach's hard length. With a groan, Zach pushed the yoga pants down over Chris’s hips, then did the same with his own and suddenly they were skin to skin. Zach took hold of his cock, smeared his thumb across the tip and maneuvered until he could slide between Chris’s legs. He nudged the head of his cock against Chris’s entrance, and felt Chris tense up, heard him breathe in with a sharp hiss.
“Shit, sorry. I should grab some lube.”
“No,” Chris said with a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I think…fuck, it hurts too much, I’m sorry, Zach.”
“Shh, ‘s okay,” Zach said softly against his neck. “We don’t have to. Just, here…” He gripped Chris’s hips, holding him still, and shifted so his cock was flush against the cleft of Chris’s ass. He moved against him, testing the friction, gasping as Chris pressed back. “Fuck,” he groaned, wrapping an arm around Chris’s chest to pull him close as Chris steadied himself against the counter. Zach quickened the pace of his thrusts, the mix of sweat and precome just enough so that he could slide easily against Chris’s skin without losing any of that precious friction. He couldn’t help the sounds that spilled from his mouth, short, ragged grunts against Chris’s neck, and it took the last of his control to reach forward and wrap a fist around Chris’s cock. Chris moaned and clenched his ass and Zach shuddered and came with a cry, sinking his teeth into the smooth skin of Chris’s shoulder. Chris felt Zach’s cock pulse against him, felt the hot splash of come across his back, and let go of the counter to wrap his hand around Zach’s. He stroked himself furiously, right on the edge, then he squeezed his eyes shut and came hard across the kitchen counter.
“Zach,” he said, after he’d caught his breath.
“Huh?” Zach was slumped against him, shaking and trying not to pass out from the energy-draining orgasm-hangover combination.
“I think I need to collapse now.”
“Uh huh.”
“Think you can stop leaning on me long enough to make it to the bedroom?”
“Doubtful.”
“Well, try. I love you, but I’m not sure my legs can support both of us right now.”
“You what?” Zach straightened up.
“Wow, that worked.” Chris said with a smile, stepping away from him and heading for the bedroom.
“Wait, what did you say?” Zach chased after him, but Chris only grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the bedroom, where they collapsed in a heap on the bed. “Say it again,” Zach pleaded.
“I will,” Chris said, running his fingers through Zach’s damp hair. “But I think I’m going to take a nap first.”
Zach sighed and nuzzled at the skin beneath Chris’s ear. “So, I guess this means you’re not freaked out, or traumatized?” he asked, still not quite believing, despite the evidence.
“No, Zach,” Chris said back to him, resting a hand on Zach’s hip and stroking his thumb over bare skin. “Although…”
“What?”
“I am a little scared about how you’re going to react when you awake from your lust-filled haze and realize that I jizzed all over your kitchen counter.”
Zach laughed softly and nipped lightly at his earlobe. “Well then,” he said, “you’d better make sure that I never wake up.”
Part 3 / End: Karl has a story...