There was a part of Zach that wanted to celebrate - wanted to run out into the streets and scream and yell, go to Stonewall and swing somebody around all joyous and jubilant. It itched under his skin, wouldn’t let his legs sit still, wouldn’t stop coursing through his veins. The decision by the legislature to finally legalize something so important made his heart feel full, and brought unexpected tears to his eyes.
He should call up all his friends and go out - get blitzed in dancing and drinks and atmosphere. Let the moment overtake him, and feel proud and ecstatic to see something important come to pass, despite his skepticism and newfound bitterness in government.
Instead his feet took him somewhere entirely different. The streets were always loud, but he heard shouting and happiness everywhere he went. He passed an apartment playing ”Come on and marry me Biiiilllll, I got the wedding bell bluueeees”, accompanied by two very drunk and very happy men, and Zach couldn’t help but smile
( ... )
They had barely been cordial. Dinner in LA a few months ago had been awkward and painful, with a friend as a buffer to keep the elephant tame in the room. Zach had run home and made angry and loveless sex in frustration, wondering why things couldn’t have stayed the way they were - why he had lost his best fucking friend in the deal.
So Zach wanted to pound on a door. Maybe yell a bit, too. Maybe yell about why the other day had been so different, with Chris buying a paper and listening to him ramble, their steps falling in sync. How Zach had remembered off the tip of his tongue Chris’ coffee order, and how Chris hadn’t been annoyed that Zach had ordered for him. How they had walked through Central Park, enjoying the sunshine and silence, and later enjoying the sounds of the rain as they had huddled together in a used bookstore, opening dusty texts of sonnets and spells.
How it had felt oh-so natural, oh-so rightBut when Chris opened the door to him, in wrinkled white t-shirt and dirty blue jeans, hair mussed and eyes squinted,
( ... )
“They passed it?” Chris asked softly, scrutinizing Zach like a wounded animal, cautious yet not running away.
Zach could only nod. He looked in those blue eyes, letting the thoughts spiral of how he had fucked this up irreparably - Chris had been friendly. It hadn’t meant anything beyond niceties and wanting to get along. Hadn’t meant that Chris felt the same way, perhaps hoping that Zach would somehow wake up and realize it, too.
But the crush of their bodies together - Chris’ arms folding around him and not letting Zach escape - then the push away for Chris to grab the sides of his face, to smash their mouths together. Sweeter than it ought to be, more painful with drowning want and desire and need.
Painful in Chris stepping away, whispering, “Yes.”
They locked eyes, with Chris smiling as he said, “Yes, you’re an idiotThere was a long pause, and Zach wondered if there would be a catch to this - if Chris would ever stop grinning like that, would finally let Zach have it for barging in and mucking up their tentative friendship
( ... )
Re: FILLED, (3/3) leandralockeJune 26 2011, 05:05:27 UTC
Oh my god! This was really beautiful. Reading this hurt so wonderfully, so bittersweetly. Especially this bit:
So Zach wanted to pound on a door. Maybe yell a bit, too. Maybe yell about why the other day had been so different, with Chris buying a paper and listening to him ramble, their steps falling in sync. How Zach had remembered off the tip of his tongue Chris’ coffee order, and how Chris hadn’t been annoyed that Zach had ordered for him. How they had walked through Central Park, enjoying the sunshine and silence, and later enjoying the sounds of the rain as they had huddled together in a used bookstore, opening dusty texts of sonnets and spells.
and this:
Who wanted to run out into the streets and swing Chris around - be happy and ecstatic and hopeful with Chris. With this man in his immediate space, overwhelming him, overwhelming everything.
And this is how I felt throughout the whole story: Sweeter than it ought to be, more painful with drowning want and desire and need. And the 'yes, you're an idiot' bit :D
( ... )
He should call up all his friends and go out - get blitzed in dancing and drinks and atmosphere. Let the moment overtake him, and feel proud and ecstatic to see something important come to pass, despite his skepticism and newfound bitterness in government.
Instead his feet took him somewhere entirely different. The streets were always loud, but he heard shouting and happiness everywhere he went. He passed an apartment playing ”Come on and marry me Biiiilllll, I got the wedding bell bluueeees”, accompanied by two very drunk and very happy men, and Zach couldn’t help but smile ( ... )
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So Zach wanted to pound on a door. Maybe yell a bit, too. Maybe yell about why the other day had been so different, with Chris buying a paper and listening to him ramble, their steps falling in sync. How Zach had remembered off the tip of his tongue Chris’ coffee order, and how Chris hadn’t been annoyed that Zach had ordered for him. How they had walked through Central Park, enjoying the sunshine and silence, and later enjoying the sounds of the rain as they had huddled together in a used bookstore, opening dusty texts of sonnets and spells.
How it had felt oh-so natural, oh-so rightBut when Chris opened the door to him, in wrinkled white t-shirt and dirty blue jeans, hair mussed and eyes squinted, ( ... )
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Zach could only nod. He looked in those blue eyes, letting the thoughts spiral of how he had fucked this up irreparably - Chris had been friendly. It hadn’t meant anything beyond niceties and wanting to get along. Hadn’t meant that Chris felt the same way, perhaps hoping that Zach would somehow wake up and realize it, too.
But the crush of their bodies together - Chris’ arms folding around him and not letting Zach escape - then the push away for Chris to grab the sides of his face, to smash their mouths together. Sweeter than it ought to be, more painful with drowning want and desire and need.
Painful in Chris stepping away, whispering, “Yes.”
They locked eyes, with Chris smiling as he said, “Yes, you’re an idiotThere was a long pause, and Zach wondered if there would be a catch to this - if Chris would ever stop grinning like that, would finally let Zach have it for barging in and mucking up their tentative friendship ( ... )
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( ... )
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Thanks, darlin'! I have never gotten an applause gif, I am filled with glee.
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So Zach wanted to pound on a door. Maybe yell a bit, too. Maybe yell about why the other day had been so different, with Chris buying a paper and listening to him ramble, their steps falling in sync. How Zach had remembered off the tip of his tongue Chris’ coffee order, and how Chris hadn’t been annoyed that Zach had ordered for him. How they had walked through Central Park, enjoying the sunshine and silence, and later enjoying the sounds of the rain as they had huddled together in a used bookstore, opening dusty texts of sonnets and spells.
and this:
Who wanted to run out into the streets and swing Chris around - be happy and ecstatic and hopeful with Chris. With this man in his immediate space, overwhelming him, overwhelming everything.
And this is how I felt throughout the whole story:
Sweeter than it ought to be, more painful with drowning want and desire and need. And the 'yes, you're an idiot' bit :D ( ... )
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Disorientated!Chris was adorable! Thank you, so much for this. I'm just getting into this pair!
“Do you love me?” Zach said, breathless and anxious.
Chris looked up, blinking a few times. “... Did I miss something?” LOL. :D
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