Obviously / Sippy Cups / Ciao, Mexico (3 Ficlets in the Coffee Fix 'verse)
Title: Obviously / Sippy Cups / Ciao, Mexico
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,336
Description: Zach and Chris, in love. Coffee Fix ‘verse
A/N: This one’s pretty shmoopy. I guarantee angst in the next installment.
A/N2: The song mentioned is Olivia Newton-John’s Physical.
Obviously
The buzz of his phone startled Chris awake, and he groped blindly in the blankets until he found it, fumbled with it, and finally got it to his ear with a sleepy, "'lo?"
"Morning."
"Zach," Chris said, and Zach could hear his smile, could picture his squinty morning eyes.
"Hey, sorry, I thought you'd be up by now," Zach said, glancing at the clock. It was only 10:30, but usually Chris woke up pretty early, even if it took copious amounts of coffee to keep him that way.
"S'okay. I was just out kinda late last night with the cast." Zach heard him yawn. "Whassup?"
"I was actually just calling to see if you wanted to get coffee."
"Mmmm...yeah, I would....can we do it maybe a little later though?"
"Yeah...later would have to be, like, tomorrow though, 'cause I've got meetings for the rest of the day. But I really didn't mean to wake you up."
"No, it's okay," Chris said, and Zach could hear the rustle of sheets as Chris sat up in bed. "I want to see you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Ten minutes?"
"Yeah, okay. I'll see you in a few."
*
They met at the cafe, and drank coffee and played footsie under the table while Chris told Zach about the previous evening's drinking hijinks. Zach listened and asked questions and marveled at how easy it was to shut up and let Chris talk, especially because he knew that Chris would listen just as attentively to him when he had stories to tell.
"What?" Chris asked, stopping mid-sentence.
"What? I didn't say anything."
"Yeah, but your face kind of scrunched up in this weird expression just then."
"Did it? I don't know. Sorry. I was listening." He had been listening, but then he'd had this thought, and this flood of warmth had traveled through him, and he'd had to kind of take a second to think about it, and that must be what Chris had noticed. He smiled again and looked down, flushing with happiness at the thought that Chris had noticed. He nudged Chris's foot under the table, and Chris smiled at him and continued.
*
When they'd finished their coffee, they stood to leave, and Chris offered to walk Zach home, since he had nothing to do until the afternoon. The conversation wound down as they walked, until they were strolling in comfortable silence. Zach glanced at Chris out of the corner of his eye and took a deep breath.
“So, I love you, by the way.” His heart jumped in his chest when he said it, and he kept his eyes on the ground, focused on matching Chris’s stride. “I just, I wasn’t sure if you knew. So I wanted to tell you.” When he got the courage to look over, Chris’s expressive eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but as Zach watched, a smile crept across his face and he shook his head.
“I am so fucking glad you said that, Zach.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, man. I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you I love you for weeks now.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Chris said, like it was obvious. “Obviously.”
“Obviously?”
“Didn’t I make it obvious? I tried to.”
Zach tipped his head to the side, thought about it. “I guess you are kind of always making googly eyes at me,” he said, grinning.
Chris ached to reach out and take his hand, brush his arm, anything, but they were between the coffee shop and Zach’s place, prime paparazzi territory, so he resisted the urge.
“Do you have any idea how much I want to just, like, throw myself at you right now?” he asked instead.
Zach smiled and blushed a little. “Do you have any idea how much I want to grab you and kiss those googly eyes right off your fucking face?” he asked, laughing.
Chris did reach out then, but only to punch him lightly in the arm, and they both walked a little faster to Zach’s front door.
Sippy Cups
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Yes, Zach, I’m sure. You don’t think I can handle this?”
“I know, I know. Just, this is the first time one of us will be gone a full day since Gavin was born…” Zach trailed off. He was sure Chris would be fine. He just knew he’d be nervous as hell if he were the one staying home. “Are you sure you don’t want to call your mom?”
“Zach, we’ll be fine. Seriously.” He gave Zach a peck on the lips and pulled Gavin gently from his arms. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll get out of there as soon as I can.”
“I know you will. Bye, Zach. Love you.”
Zach was closing the front door when a loud crash sounded from the living room. Zach opened the door again, his eyes wide, but Chris pried his hand off the doorknob and shoved him out, saying “I’ll take care of it. Go. JESSE!”
*
Zach stepped inside and eased the door shut behind him. A brief glance at the living room revealed only slightly more mess than there had been when he left, so he didn’t linger. Instead, he followed the sound of music toward the kitchen and paused in the shadow of the doorway. He had to cover his mouth to stifle a burst of laughter as Chris danced into view. Gavin bobbed happily in the front pack while Chris grooved across the tile floor, shaking his hips to the rhythm. The rhythm, apparently, of classic Olivia Newton-John, to which Chris was singing his own lyrics for Jesse’s benefit. “Let’s eat - Cheerios! Cheerios! You got to eat - Cheerios, Cheerios!”
Zach had been privy to a number of Chris’s more creative parenting techniques, but this was a new one. He wasn’t sure it was working, as Jesse was so excited by his father’s antics that amidst his laughing and flailing, not many of the Cheerios were actually making it from the tray of his high chair to his mouth. Chris did a little spin in front of the high chair and took hold of Jesse’s hands, singing “Let me hear your baby talk.”
Finally, Zach stepped into the kitchen, not bothering to hide his grin. Jesse pointed at him and said “Daddy!” and Chris spun around, blushing hard.
“I, uh, suppose it’s too much to ask that you didn’t see that just then?” he asked, smiling sheepishly.
Zach slid an arm around his shoulders and leaned in close. “Let’s eat Cheerios, Cheerios,” he sang softly. Chris shook his head and slid a hand around Zach’s neck.
“You can sing the real words to me,” he said with a wink.
“And why would I do that?”
Chris touched his lips to Zach’s and they fell into the kiss, tongues tangling together, and it took effort not to squish Gavin between them. When they pulled apart, Zach glanced down at the baby.
“Um…what is that?” Zach said with an eyebrow raised, pointing.
“Oh. Uh. Raspberry jelly?” Chris said. Zach grinned and leaned down to lick the purple blob of jelly from Gavin’s bald head.
“Did Papa eat dinner off of your head again? I told him to stop doing that,” he murmured. Gavin made a grinny face at him and Zach gave him another kiss on the head before he turned around to the high chair. “And what about you, buddy? Did you eat your Cheerios, Cheerios!?” Jesse offered him a fistful of Cheerios, then dropped them on the floor as Zach tickled his stomach. “And in answer to your question,” he said to Chris, without turning around, “no, you’re never going to hear the end of that.”
“I hate you,” Chris said, smiling.
Zach turned back to Chris, reached out to cup his cheek and pulled him close for a kiss. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?” he murmured in Chris’s ear.
Zach could feel Chris blushing beneath the palm of his hand. “You may have said it once or twice before,” Chris said, closing his eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re my babydaddy,” Zach said, grinning against Chris’s cheek.
Chris turned to meet his lips, kissed him. “Please never say that again.”
Zach stepped away, moving toward the cupboard. “I want to celebrate your keeping the children alive for an entire day,” he said, opening a cabinet. “Did you eat dinner yet?”
“Yeah.”
“Peanut butter and jelly?”
“Yep.”
“Chocolate milk?”
“Um. Yes.”
Zach turned around holding two of Jesse’s sippy cups and a bottle of red wine. “You do know that just because we have children, it doesn’t mean we need to eat like them, right?”
“I know. I like that stuff!”
Zach uncorked the bottle, poured some wine into each cup, and snapped the lids into place. He walked over and handed one to Chris, then he lifted Jesse from the high chair, propped him on one hip, and picked up his cup.
“Story time?” he asked, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Sure, why not?”
They tapped their cups together. “To our family,” Chris said.
“The best ever,” Zach agreed.
Ciao, Mexico
Chris looked out the window for the fifth time in fifteen minutes and was finally, finally rewarded with the sight of Zach’s car pulling into the driveway. He opened the front door as Zach came up the walkway carrying two full bags of groceries.
Zach stepped inside and they looked at each other, suddenly shy.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Chris took a bag from him and they walked into the kitchen, setting the groceries down on the counter. Another awkward moment, then their eyes met and they collided. The kiss was hot and deep and their arms were tight around each other, hands clutching reflexively, fisting in each other’s shirts.
“Where are the boys?” Zach murmured against Chris’s jaw.
“Out back,” Chris said, tipping his head back and thrusting his hips.
“Fuck,” Zach said, and he kissed his way down Chris’s throat. “God, Chris.”
“I know, I know,” Chris breathed, letting his hands drop down to Zach’s ass.
“Want you.”
“Want you, too…fuck, Zach,” Chris said, but he moved his hands to Zach’s hips and pushed him gently away, panting. “We have to stop.”
“I know,” Zach said, and they looked at each other, chests heaving, sweat glistening on their foreheads. They smiled, kissed softly on the lips, and stepped apart.
“Ice water?” Chris asked, heading for the fridge.
“Ice shower,” Zach corrected, leaning his elbows on the counter as he admired Chris’s backside.
Chris handed him a glass of water and looked at the bags on the counter. “What’d you get?”
“Thought maybe I’d make dinner tonight? Tacos?”
Uncertainty flickered across Chris’s face and he bit his lip like he wanted to say something. Zach slapped a hand over his mouth in realization. “Shit. It’s spaghetti night, isn’t it?”
Chris looked relieved, then confused. “How do you know about spaghetti night?”
Zach laughed. “Um, only because Jess and Gav tell me about it every single week. It’s basically the reason I haven’t seen my sons on a Monday night for the past three years. What the hell do you put in that stuff anyway? Crack?”
“Meatballs. Special family recipe.”
“Are you shitting me? I’m the Italian one!”
“I know. It’s your family recipe.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “Figures. Alright, well, we can have tacos tomorrow night then.” Something nagged at the back of his mind, an uncomfortable realization that he still didn’t really live here, that maybe he didn’t quite belong. “Um. I mean, if…”
Chris looked at him across the counter, his expression serious. “Zach.” He shook his head. “There’s no ‘if’. Okay?”
“Okay,” Zach whispered.
Chris looked at the bags of groceries, then at Zach, and smiled slowly. “I have an idea.”
*
Spaghetti tacos were a huge hit, at least with the younger generation. Jesse and Gavin consumed them enthusiastically, tomato sauce smearing across their cheeks as they shoveled taco shells stuffed with spaghetti and bastardized Mexican meatballs into their mouths. Zach took one bite of his and tried desperately not to spit it back onto his plate. He watched as Chris chomped into his taco, chewed, made a face and reached for his water to chase down the disgusting mess.
“How are they eating this crap?” Zach whispered to Chris out of the side of his mouth.
“No clue. Underdeveloped tastebuds?” Chris pulled out his phone.
“What’re you ordering,” Zach asked, trying not to move his lips.
“Pad thai.”
“Good call.” Zach turned back to the boys. “So, what do you guys think?”
“Oh, man!” said Jesse, taking another massive bite of spaghetti taco. “These are awesome!”
*
The boys were tucked in by the time the pad thai arrived, so Chris and Zach ate it sprawled on the bed. Zach leaned forward to eat a mouthful of noodles off of Chris’s fork. They smiled stupidly at each other for a minute, then Chris set his fork down and turned around to grab his laptop from the bedside table.
“What are you doing on Saturday?” Chris asked, opening it so Zach couldn’t see the screen.
“Mmm…nothing?” Zach said through another bite.
Chris looked at him over the top of the computer. “Wanna move in?” He turned the laptop so Zach could see that it was open to the Uhaul reservations page.
Zach’s eyes flicked from the screen up to Chris and he swallowed. “I…yes. Yeah. Yes.” He drew in a breath as unexpected emotion flooded through his chest.
“So…that’s a yes then?” Chris asked with a smile.
And maybe it was too soon, Zach thought, maybe they should wait and see how things went for a little while. Or maybe he didn’t want to miss another single second of what they had, of what they’d lost and found again, of spaghetti tacos and wine in sippy cups and whatever else they would dream up next.
Zach nodded and pulled the laptop over.
He didn’t want to miss them anymore.
(Continued...)
Author: therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,336
Description: Zach and Chris, in love. Coffee Fix ‘verse
A/N: This one’s pretty shmoopy. I guarantee angst in the next installment.
A/N2: The song mentioned is Olivia Newton-John’s Physical.
Obviously
The buzz of his phone startled Chris awake, and he groped blindly in the blankets until he found it, fumbled with it, and finally got it to his ear with a sleepy, "'lo?"
"Morning."
"Zach," Chris said, and Zach could hear his smile, could picture his squinty morning eyes.
"Hey, sorry, I thought you'd be up by now," Zach said, glancing at the clock. It was only 10:30, but usually Chris woke up pretty early, even if it took copious amounts of coffee to keep him that way.
"S'okay. I was just out kinda late last night with the cast." Zach heard him yawn. "Whassup?"
"I was actually just calling to see if you wanted to get coffee."
"Mmmm...yeah, I would....can we do it maybe a little later though?"
"Yeah...later would have to be, like, tomorrow though, 'cause I've got meetings for the rest of the day. But I really didn't mean to wake you up."
"No, it's okay," Chris said, and Zach could hear the rustle of sheets as Chris sat up in bed. "I want to see you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Ten minutes?"
"Yeah, okay. I'll see you in a few."
*
They met at the cafe, and drank coffee and played footsie under the table while Chris told Zach about the previous evening's drinking hijinks. Zach listened and asked questions and marveled at how easy it was to shut up and let Chris talk, especially because he knew that Chris would listen just as attentively to him when he had stories to tell.
"What?" Chris asked, stopping mid-sentence.
"What? I didn't say anything."
"Yeah, but your face kind of scrunched up in this weird expression just then."
"Did it? I don't know. Sorry. I was listening." He had been listening, but then he'd had this thought, and this flood of warmth had traveled through him, and he'd had to kind of take a second to think about it, and that must be what Chris had noticed. He smiled again and looked down, flushing with happiness at the thought that Chris had noticed. He nudged Chris's foot under the table, and Chris smiled at him and continued.
*
When they'd finished their coffee, they stood to leave, and Chris offered to walk Zach home, since he had nothing to do until the afternoon. The conversation wound down as they walked, until they were strolling in comfortable silence. Zach glanced at Chris out of the corner of his eye and took a deep breath.
“So, I love you, by the way.” His heart jumped in his chest when he said it, and he kept his eyes on the ground, focused on matching Chris’s stride. “I just, I wasn’t sure if you knew. So I wanted to tell you.” When he got the courage to look over, Chris’s expressive eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but as Zach watched, a smile crept across his face and he shook his head.
“I am so fucking glad you said that, Zach.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, man. I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you I love you for weeks now.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Chris said, like it was obvious. “Obviously.”
“Obviously?”
“Didn’t I make it obvious? I tried to.”
Zach tipped his head to the side, thought about it. “I guess you are kind of always making googly eyes at me,” he said, grinning.
Chris ached to reach out and take his hand, brush his arm, anything, but they were between the coffee shop and Zach’s place, prime paparazzi territory, so he resisted the urge.
“Do you have any idea how much I want to just, like, throw myself at you right now?” he asked instead.
Zach smiled and blushed a little. “Do you have any idea how much I want to grab you and kiss those googly eyes right off your fucking face?” he asked, laughing.
Chris did reach out then, but only to punch him lightly in the arm, and they both walked a little faster to Zach’s front door.
Sippy Cups
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“Yes, Zach, I’m sure. You don’t think I can handle this?”
“I know, I know. Just, this is the first time one of us will be gone a full day since Gavin was born…” Zach trailed off. He was sure Chris would be fine. He just knew he’d be nervous as hell if he were the one staying home. “Are you sure you don’t want to call your mom?”
“Zach, we’ll be fine. Seriously.” He gave Zach a peck on the lips and pulled Gavin gently from his arms. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll get out of there as soon as I can.”
“I know you will. Bye, Zach. Love you.”
Zach was closing the front door when a loud crash sounded from the living room. Zach opened the door again, his eyes wide, but Chris pried his hand off the doorknob and shoved him out, saying “I’ll take care of it. Go. JESSE!”
*
Zach stepped inside and eased the door shut behind him. A brief glance at the living room revealed only slightly more mess than there had been when he left, so he didn’t linger. Instead, he followed the sound of music toward the kitchen and paused in the shadow of the doorway. He had to cover his mouth to stifle a burst of laughter as Chris danced into view. Gavin bobbed happily in the front pack while Chris grooved across the tile floor, shaking his hips to the rhythm. The rhythm, apparently, of classic Olivia Newton-John, to which Chris was singing his own lyrics for Jesse’s benefit. “Let’s eat - Cheerios! Cheerios! You got to eat - Cheerios, Cheerios!”
Zach had been privy to a number of Chris’s more creative parenting techniques, but this was a new one. He wasn’t sure it was working, as Jesse was so excited by his father’s antics that amidst his laughing and flailing, not many of the Cheerios were actually making it from the tray of his high chair to his mouth. Chris did a little spin in front of the high chair and took hold of Jesse’s hands, singing “Let me hear your baby talk.”
Finally, Zach stepped into the kitchen, not bothering to hide his grin. Jesse pointed at him and said “Daddy!” and Chris spun around, blushing hard.
“I, uh, suppose it’s too much to ask that you didn’t see that just then?” he asked, smiling sheepishly.
Zach slid an arm around his shoulders and leaned in close. “Let’s eat Cheerios, Cheerios,” he sang softly. Chris shook his head and slid a hand around Zach’s neck.
“You can sing the real words to me,” he said with a wink.
“And why would I do that?”
Chris touched his lips to Zach’s and they fell into the kiss, tongues tangling together, and it took effort not to squish Gavin between them. When they pulled apart, Zach glanced down at the baby.
“Um…what is that?” Zach said with an eyebrow raised, pointing.
“Oh. Uh. Raspberry jelly?” Chris said. Zach grinned and leaned down to lick the purple blob of jelly from Gavin’s bald head.
“Did Papa eat dinner off of your head again? I told him to stop doing that,” he murmured. Gavin made a grinny face at him and Zach gave him another kiss on the head before he turned around to the high chair. “And what about you, buddy? Did you eat your Cheerios, Cheerios!?” Jesse offered him a fistful of Cheerios, then dropped them on the floor as Zach tickled his stomach. “And in answer to your question,” he said to Chris, without turning around, “no, you’re never going to hear the end of that.”
“I hate you,” Chris said, smiling.
Zach turned back to Chris, reached out to cup his cheek and pulled him close for a kiss. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?” he murmured in Chris’s ear.
Zach could feel Chris blushing beneath the palm of his hand. “You may have said it once or twice before,” Chris said, closing his eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re my babydaddy,” Zach said, grinning against Chris’s cheek.
Chris turned to meet his lips, kissed him. “Please never say that again.”
Zach stepped away, moving toward the cupboard. “I want to celebrate your keeping the children alive for an entire day,” he said, opening a cabinet. “Did you eat dinner yet?”
“Yeah.”
“Peanut butter and jelly?”
“Yep.”
“Chocolate milk?”
“Um. Yes.”
Zach turned around holding two of Jesse’s sippy cups and a bottle of red wine. “You do know that just because we have children, it doesn’t mean we need to eat like them, right?”
“I know. I like that stuff!”
Zach uncorked the bottle, poured some wine into each cup, and snapped the lids into place. He walked over and handed one to Chris, then he lifted Jesse from the high chair, propped him on one hip, and picked up his cup.
“Story time?” he asked, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Sure, why not?”
They tapped their cups together. “To our family,” Chris said.
“The best ever,” Zach agreed.
Ciao, Mexico
Chris looked out the window for the fifth time in fifteen minutes and was finally, finally rewarded with the sight of Zach’s car pulling into the driveway. He opened the front door as Zach came up the walkway carrying two full bags of groceries.
Zach stepped inside and they looked at each other, suddenly shy.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Chris took a bag from him and they walked into the kitchen, setting the groceries down on the counter. Another awkward moment, then their eyes met and they collided. The kiss was hot and deep and their arms were tight around each other, hands clutching reflexively, fisting in each other’s shirts.
“Where are the boys?” Zach murmured against Chris’s jaw.
“Out back,” Chris said, tipping his head back and thrusting his hips.
“Fuck,” Zach said, and he kissed his way down Chris’s throat. “God, Chris.”
“I know, I know,” Chris breathed, letting his hands drop down to Zach’s ass.
“Want you.”
“Want you, too…fuck, Zach,” Chris said, but he moved his hands to Zach’s hips and pushed him gently away, panting. “We have to stop.”
“I know,” Zach said, and they looked at each other, chests heaving, sweat glistening on their foreheads. They smiled, kissed softly on the lips, and stepped apart.
“Ice water?” Chris asked, heading for the fridge.
“Ice shower,” Zach corrected, leaning his elbows on the counter as he admired Chris’s backside.
Chris handed him a glass of water and looked at the bags on the counter. “What’d you get?”
“Thought maybe I’d make dinner tonight? Tacos?”
Uncertainty flickered across Chris’s face and he bit his lip like he wanted to say something. Zach slapped a hand over his mouth in realization. “Shit. It’s spaghetti night, isn’t it?”
Chris looked relieved, then confused. “How do you know about spaghetti night?”
Zach laughed. “Um, only because Jess and Gav tell me about it every single week. It’s basically the reason I haven’t seen my sons on a Monday night for the past three years. What the hell do you put in that stuff anyway? Crack?”
“Meatballs. Special family recipe.”
“Are you shitting me? I’m the Italian one!”
“I know. It’s your family recipe.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “Figures. Alright, well, we can have tacos tomorrow night then.” Something nagged at the back of his mind, an uncomfortable realization that he still didn’t really live here, that maybe he didn’t quite belong. “Um. I mean, if…”
Chris looked at him across the counter, his expression serious. “Zach.” He shook his head. “There’s no ‘if’. Okay?”
“Okay,” Zach whispered.
Chris looked at the bags of groceries, then at Zach, and smiled slowly. “I have an idea.”
*
Spaghetti tacos were a huge hit, at least with the younger generation. Jesse and Gavin consumed them enthusiastically, tomato sauce smearing across their cheeks as they shoveled taco shells stuffed with spaghetti and bastardized Mexican meatballs into their mouths. Zach took one bite of his and tried desperately not to spit it back onto his plate. He watched as Chris chomped into his taco, chewed, made a face and reached for his water to chase down the disgusting mess.
“How are they eating this crap?” Zach whispered to Chris out of the side of his mouth.
“No clue. Underdeveloped tastebuds?” Chris pulled out his phone.
“What’re you ordering,” Zach asked, trying not to move his lips.
“Pad thai.”
“Good call.” Zach turned back to the boys. “So, what do you guys think?”
“Oh, man!” said Jesse, taking another massive bite of spaghetti taco. “These are awesome!”
*
The boys were tucked in by the time the pad thai arrived, so Chris and Zach ate it sprawled on the bed. Zach leaned forward to eat a mouthful of noodles off of Chris’s fork. They smiled stupidly at each other for a minute, then Chris set his fork down and turned around to grab his laptop from the bedside table.
“What are you doing on Saturday?” Chris asked, opening it so Zach couldn’t see the screen.
“Mmm…nothing?” Zach said through another bite.
Chris looked at him over the top of the computer. “Wanna move in?” He turned the laptop so Zach could see that it was open to the Uhaul reservations page.
Zach’s eyes flicked from the screen up to Chris and he swallowed. “I…yes. Yeah. Yes.” He drew in a breath as unexpected emotion flooded through his chest.
“So…that’s a yes then?” Chris asked with a smile.
And maybe it was too soon, Zach thought, maybe they should wait and see how things went for a little while. Or maybe he didn’t want to miss another single second of what they had, of what they’d lost and found again, of spaghetti tacos and wine in sippy cups and whatever else they would dream up next.
Zach nodded and pulled the laptop over.
He didn’t want to miss them anymore.
(Continued...)