Fic: "Ok, but I'm only the limo driver."
Title: “Okay, but I’m only the limo driver....”
Rating: R
Pairing: Chris / Zach
Beta: stfu_pwentzz
Word Count: 481
Summary / Prompt: Chris and Zach get ready for the Golden Globes. Sex in Limo. (samslave)
Author’s Notes: Ten points and a cookie if you can tell me where the title of this fic came from.
“Bow-tie or tie?” Chris asks as he and his co-star Zachary Quinto begin to get ready for the Golden Globes.
“Bow tie. Definitely. I like them. Especially on my boyfriend,” Zach responds, winking at the man beside him.
“Boyfriend?” Chris asks quizzically.
Chris and Zach were definitely something, but the two of them had never discussed if they were boyfriends, so when Zach had used the label, it shocked him.
“Well, you are, aren’t you?”
“I guess..... It’s just that we never really talked about what we are.”
“And....?”
“And it doesn’t really matter,” Chris says, smiling while he finishes buttoning up his white oxford dress shirt.
They finish getting dressed, and while Zach sneaks away to style his hair one more time, Chris mulls over the fact he is finally Zach’s boyfriend. It’s something he always wanted, and knew that people had called them, but never thought would happen. But all that didn’t matter now, because it was official to them.
-----
“David, if you don’t mind, I think we’re going to need a little privacy right now..” Zach calls out, while Chris is currently kissing the length of his neck and palming his crotch.
“Whatever you say Mr Quinto,” David responds, while the window slowly closes the gap between them.
Before Zach can get another word out, Chris has already moved onto his mouth, and anxiously darting his tongue in between Zach’s lips, in which he eagerly allows, and reciprocates, entwining their tongues together.
Breaking the kiss, Chris focuses on unzipping Zach’s slacks, helping ease the tension of his hardening cock.
“You know, we have a little while before we get to the event...”
“Mhm...” Zach says, moaning quietly so the limo driver can’t hear.
“So before we arrive, why don’t I uh...” Chris breaks, so that he doesn’t burst into laughter “Help you arrive, right now.”
Zach of course, bursts out laughing, only to have Chris’s mouth envelope his cock, and wonders if this is really happening.
While lapping up every inch of skin with his tongue, Chris bobs and hums, and twists and turns and bobs again some more, and is greeted by hair tugging and moaning.
The limo begins to slow down, and Zach wonders if Chris timed it perfectly, because, as Chris ever so nicely put it, he arrives just as the limo arrives at the event’s red carpet.
-----
Knowing exactly what is going on, David the limo driver takes his time getting out of the vehicle, allowing Chris and Zach to adjust themselves, along with putting some of their clothes back on, before opening the door the let them out.
“Well babe,” Zach says, his breathing slowly going back to normal “I guess I owe you one on the way home.
“I guess so.” Chris replies, smirking at the fact that he just gave his boyfriend a blow job in some random limo before the Golden Globes.
Rating: R
Pairing: Chris / Zach
Beta: stfu_pwentzz
Word Count: 481
Summary / Prompt: Chris and Zach get ready for the Golden Globes. Sex in Limo. (samslave)
Author’s Notes: Ten points and a cookie if you can tell me where the title of this fic came from.
“Bow-tie or tie?” Chris asks as he and his co-star Zachary Quinto begin to get ready for the Golden Globes.
“Bow tie. Definitely. I like them. Especially on my boyfriend,” Zach responds, winking at the man beside him.
“Boyfriend?” Chris asks quizzically.
Chris and Zach were definitely something, but the two of them had never discussed if they were boyfriends, so when Zach had used the label, it shocked him.
“Well, you are, aren’t you?”
“I guess..... It’s just that we never really talked about what we are.”
“And....?”
“And it doesn’t really matter,” Chris says, smiling while he finishes buttoning up his white oxford dress shirt.
They finish getting dressed, and while Zach sneaks away to style his hair one more time, Chris mulls over the fact he is finally Zach’s boyfriend. It’s something he always wanted, and knew that people had called them, but never thought would happen. But all that didn’t matter now, because it was official to them.
-----
“David, if you don’t mind, I think we’re going to need a little privacy right now..” Zach calls out, while Chris is currently kissing the length of his neck and palming his crotch.
“Whatever you say Mr Quinto,” David responds, while the window slowly closes the gap between them.
Before Zach can get another word out, Chris has already moved onto his mouth, and anxiously darting his tongue in between Zach’s lips, in which he eagerly allows, and reciprocates, entwining their tongues together.
Breaking the kiss, Chris focuses on unzipping Zach’s slacks, helping ease the tension of his hardening cock.
“You know, we have a little while before we get to the event...”
“Mhm...” Zach says, moaning quietly so the limo driver can’t hear.
“So before we arrive, why don’t I uh...” Chris breaks, so that he doesn’t burst into laughter “Help you arrive, right now.”
Zach of course, bursts out laughing, only to have Chris’s mouth envelope his cock, and wonders if this is really happening.
While lapping up every inch of skin with his tongue, Chris bobs and hums, and twists and turns and bobs again some more, and is greeted by hair tugging and moaning.
The limo begins to slow down, and Zach wonders if Chris timed it perfectly, because, as Chris ever so nicely put it, he arrives just as the limo arrives at the event’s red carpet.
-----
Knowing exactly what is going on, David the limo driver takes his time getting out of the vehicle, allowing Chris and Zach to adjust themselves, along with putting some of their clothes back on, before opening the door the let them out.
“Well babe,” Zach says, his breathing slowly going back to normal “I guess I owe you one on the way home.
“I guess so.” Chris replies, smirking at the fact that he just gave his boyfriend a blow job in some random limo before the Golden Globes.