Pinto: You're Fine, I'm Fine (NC-17)
Title: You're Fine, I'm Fine
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1935
Warnings: Sexual activity, some angst.
Summary: The morning after Chris and Zach first hook up, things are not the same. Not even in the slightest.
A/N: Based off of this French interview where Zach and Chris seem painfully awkward with one another. The comments on the Tumblr post I originally saw it on requested that there be fic explaining what might have happened, and... well. Here's my part. Also! First time posting in this fandom, hellll yeah. Enjoy!
Zach is leaning away from Chris, and suddenly Chris feels like it is going to be the longest day of his life.
He's trying not to look at Zach, staring off into space but listening so intently to the same words he's been hearing for weeks in a shifted order.
"... Finding who he is and gaining some control over the duality that exists within him I think is uh... is a huge part of this character's journey..."
Chris is thinking buttons, those god damn buttons that he just couldn't quite seem to tackle under his buzz on hotel wine. Zach had laughed that soft, watery laugh he'd grown so fond of and mumbled, "Christopher, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"M'taking your clothes off."
"Really? Really." He stopped Chris with a firm hand around his dainty wrist, perfect lips pursed and - oh God, had he really thought the words "perfect" and "lips" under the context of Zachary Quinto? He felt the skin beneath Zach's hand tingle and practically melt to the touch.
"I just... I want to..." Chris' hand flexed open and shut, the alcohol affecting his ability to form a coherent thought that wouldn't make things awkward.
Zach gave him that look, that look he used to give Chris on set; the look that is the visual equivalent to sitting Chris down and giving him a firm talking-to about cockteasing the gays. Chris didn't feel so affected by it this time. He was staring at the skin just below Zach's collar, the only two buttons he managed to open before Zach's slow hand had stopped him. He wanted to sink his teeth into the flesh and tongue the bruise and fuck, drag his teeth through the fucking chest hair...
"You don't know what you want." Zach released Chris from his grip and took his wine glass from the table, downing the drink in a long, solid gulp. Chris, subconsiously rubbing his wrist, shifted in his seat.
"I know exactly what I want." He reached for the buttons again. "Put the glass down. Please."
"...and of this character and in, um... and in the face of some really overwhelming circumstances and the catastrophic events that unfold and befall him and his, you know, his culture."
They're going to ask him about Kirk, and fuck if he can think straight. He's remembering that voice again, hot against his lips, the wine glass on the table and all of those buttons finally open. Chris' hand was smoothing over Zach's chest, a little unsteady, a little unsure, and Zach was sighing.
"Chris, are you sure..." Lips so close, Chris could practically taste them. "Are you sure you want this...?"
There's a moment of white light in Chris' memory where he's sure he must have said something, maybe nodded, but his brain skips ahead a few short moments to those lips catching his own. Zach looked like a good kisser and definitely lived up to the thought, all tender little nips at first, slowly feeling out the rhythm of Chris' mouth. Chris urged the use of tongue, maybe a little too much but the intent was all that mattered at this point, anyhow. He gently tweaked a nipple and - oh God, that noise, that little gasp at the back of Zach's throat and Chris was rock hard. He tweaked it again, rewarded by Zach shifting out of the button-down entirely and pulling Chris' cardigan from his arms.
All Chris could hear was the wet smack of lips, the dull scratch of two five-o'clock shadows and shifting fabric. Zach ran his hands over Chris' chest and began popping the buttons of his shirt with far more ease and class that Chris had done, top-half naked in seconds. The warm press of Zach's flat, furred body was unfamiliar, yet so entirely welcomed he could barely manage to mumble, "Zach, please..." as he bucked up slightly.
Zach moaned under his breath, "Bed."
"If people can walk away with one thing about this character, it's exactly that, it's... at the beginning, um, you know, he's kind of the... brash, arrogant young kid..."
He knows he's making Berkley look like preschool right now, but he can see Zach in his preriferal vision: looks away completely, stares past Chris, looks at his hands. And he knows - right then, he sees it so clearly - Zach is on his same train of thought.
Zach pushed Chris down onto the bed with a soft smile, so calm and serene and Chris thought it was so beautiful he could just die right then, knowing he'd never see something that gorgeous again. He was drunk and over dramatic, sure, but he forgot about death and, honestly, everything else when Zach crawled up from the foot of the mattress, cheap springs squeaking as he hovered over Chris' lower half.
"We can stop, you know... any time..." Zach's hands, so soft and hot, unbuckled Chris' belt and popped his fly. He smoothed over Chris' lower stomach. "I'm serious."
Chris laughed, "Zachary, will you fuckin' stop that? For both our sakes?" A slight upward angle to his hips for a moment, urging. "Come on. I'm not gonna run off at the sight of your dick."
Zach had laughed then, shaking his head. "Sorry, sorry... fuck, I am drunk... How do you always talk me into room service?" The zipper opened and suddenly Chris was being pulled free of his jeans, his underwear shifting down and looking a little slutty. Zach sighed and looked up at Chris.
"You're hard."
"Yeah, I know."
"... I make you hard?"
"Will you just... Jesus, Zach, please?"
Zach grinned and kissed Chris' cock through the fabric, just one gentle nip of a kiss, and Chris moaned, the challenging smirk melting from his face in a spinning whirl of pleasure. He looked down at Zach. "Again... please..."
His fingers were under the elastic of Chris' boxer-briefs as his mouth came down again, sucking against the hard, smooth length and fuck - Chris lost his entire train of thought. He moaned and gripped the blanket beneath him, whispering, "Oh please, Zachary, please stop teasing, I can't take it... Not right now, I can't, I need you..."
Zach made a low groaning sound, reached down and gave himself a squeeze before sitting up and removing his pants. His underwear was straining against the pressure of his cock, begging to break free, but he didn't let it go at first and Chris was a little disappointed - but the disappointment did not last for long. Zach was slipping Chris' boxer-briefs down slowly, the thick, near-painfully-hard cock boucing up and out like a soldier at-attention. Careful hands slid them off and then Zach was leaning down, straddling Chris' legs, wrapping one of those hands around Chris' length and he was squirming, putty.
"Oh God, oh God, please, Zach, I want this... I've wanted it for so long, please..."
Chris noticed a stutter in Zach's breath at the words and he was suddenly engulfed in wet heat, that gorgeous mouth wrapped around his cockhead and bobbing. He reached down, fingers tangled in Zach's product-polluted hair and moaned, "Ohhh, fuck... that's it, that's- ungh, Zach..."
Chris tried desperately to keep his eyes open, wanted to see every hollowing of Zach's cheeks and every bat of those thick, dark eyelashes. He palmed himself through his underwear and it was so fucking hot; how Chris could feel so turned on watching a man masturbate was not even a thought in his head any more. His cheeks were burning and he called out, "Zach! Zach, I'm close, I'm gonna come, I'm so-"
Zach pulled off and yanked his own briefs off, climbing up Chris' body. "Oh no you don't, not without me... " He kissed Chris' neck, careful not to leave marks as he took both of their cocks and began swiftly jerking them together, mumbling in Chris' ear.
"You gonna come, Christopher? Am I gonna make you fucking come all over yourself? Mmh, you're close, aren't you?" The dirty talk, he knew Zach was teasing him, but god fucking damn it he was okay with that.
"Yes, oh- please, Zaa-aach-"
"Hm? What's that?" His voice faltering just a bit - he had to be close, too. "Oh God, you're so hot like this, Chris, so fucking hot..."
"I think his journey is learning how to mold all of that, that, uhm, extreme energy into, you know, into utilizing it for good."
Chris made a squeaking sound, his hands tugging Zach's head down by the ears and sucking a heated kiss to his lips. He moaned against it, "Hnnyeah, oh yeah, Zachary... J-just a... Just a little more...!" His eyes rolled back into his head, then down to watch their cocks rub and slide, saliva and precome lubricating their every thrust into Zach's hand. "I-I'm close, I'm gonna come for you, oh shit oh shit oh-!"
"Nnngh...!" Zach groaned and pressed his lips haphazardly over Chris' face. His legs were shaking and the pace of his arm kicked into overdrive, intent fully and completely apparent. "Come on, Chris, do it, shoot..."
And shoot he did. A few more strokes and he was calling out and coming, drenching himself and Zach's cock in long, thick ropes, thicker than they should have been for being drunk.
After a few moments of panting, he whispered, "I came for you, Zach, come on, come for me..."
Zach, so uncharacteristically, wailed as he came, the sight of Chris' orgasm sending him into quaking spasms of heat as he spilled over his hand and Chris.
The interview is over and Zach is still refusing to look Chris in the eye.
"Two more for the day." Clears his throat, staring at his own crossed fingers. Chris nods, licking his lips nervously with a sigh.
"Back to the hotel after that, then, yeah?"
"Yeah."
Awkward silence before the next group of interviewers and crew come in, and Chris is an actor - he can turn it on at the drop of a hat, of course, but today is tough. He catches himself wondering, planning. Practising exactly what to say when he orders wine to their hotel room and how to approach Zach with the idea of a repeat performance. But currently, his confidence is lacking, and he continues to only glance in Zach's general direction when he needs to, fingers folded in his lap, hearing the words over and over again.
"So, tomorrow..." Chris carded his fingers through Zach's sweat-damp hair, listening to the way Zach pants on top of him, feeling the rise and fall against his own heaving chest. "Tomorrow, you... You'll still feel like this?"
"Like what?" Zach was still drunk, a little sass in his confident words. "Like you're fucking hot and I wish you weren't straight? Yeah, I'll still feel like that."
"What if I'm not straight?" Zach gave him a look and he backtracked. "No, I mean- I'm not gay, I know I'm not gay, but..." He licked his lips. "I know I loved that. The way you felt- the way you feel..."
Zach looked up and smiled, pressed a tender kiss to Chris' lips and bit softly. "As long as you're fine... I'm fine. We can talk about this tomorrow, maybe, when we're sober?"
Chris had nodded then, his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. "Good idea. Really good idea." He wrapped his arms around Zach, held him close, rolled him onto his side and snuggled against his chest.
"We should sleep..." Zach yawned. "Long day tomorrow."
The longest day of Chris' entire fucking life.
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1935
Warnings: Sexual activity, some angst.
Summary: The morning after Chris and Zach first hook up, things are not the same. Not even in the slightest.
A/N: Based off of this French interview where Zach and Chris seem painfully awkward with one another. The comments on the Tumblr post I originally saw it on requested that there be fic explaining what might have happened, and... well. Here's my part. Also! First time posting in this fandom, hellll yeah. Enjoy!
Zach is leaning away from Chris, and suddenly Chris feels like it is going to be the longest day of his life.
He's trying not to look at Zach, staring off into space but listening so intently to the same words he's been hearing for weeks in a shifted order.
"... Finding who he is and gaining some control over the duality that exists within him I think is uh... is a huge part of this character's journey..."
Chris is thinking buttons, those god damn buttons that he just couldn't quite seem to tackle under his buzz on hotel wine. Zach had laughed that soft, watery laugh he'd grown so fond of and mumbled, "Christopher, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"
"M'taking your clothes off."
"Really? Really." He stopped Chris with a firm hand around his dainty wrist, perfect lips pursed and - oh God, had he really thought the words "perfect" and "lips" under the context of Zachary Quinto? He felt the skin beneath Zach's hand tingle and practically melt to the touch.
"I just... I want to..." Chris' hand flexed open and shut, the alcohol affecting his ability to form a coherent thought that wouldn't make things awkward.
Zach gave him that look, that look he used to give Chris on set; the look that is the visual equivalent to sitting Chris down and giving him a firm talking-to about cockteasing the gays. Chris didn't feel so affected by it this time. He was staring at the skin just below Zach's collar, the only two buttons he managed to open before Zach's slow hand had stopped him. He wanted to sink his teeth into the flesh and tongue the bruise and fuck, drag his teeth through the fucking chest hair...
"You don't know what you want." Zach released Chris from his grip and took his wine glass from the table, downing the drink in a long, solid gulp. Chris, subconsiously rubbing his wrist, shifted in his seat.
"I know exactly what I want." He reached for the buttons again. "Put the glass down. Please."
"...and of this character and in, um... and in the face of some really overwhelming circumstances and the catastrophic events that unfold and befall him and his, you know, his culture."
They're going to ask him about Kirk, and fuck if he can think straight. He's remembering that voice again, hot against his lips, the wine glass on the table and all of those buttons finally open. Chris' hand was smoothing over Zach's chest, a little unsteady, a little unsure, and Zach was sighing.
"Chris, are you sure..." Lips so close, Chris could practically taste them. "Are you sure you want this...?"
There's a moment of white light in Chris' memory where he's sure he must have said something, maybe nodded, but his brain skips ahead a few short moments to those lips catching his own. Zach looked like a good kisser and definitely lived up to the thought, all tender little nips at first, slowly feeling out the rhythm of Chris' mouth. Chris urged the use of tongue, maybe a little too much but the intent was all that mattered at this point, anyhow. He gently tweaked a nipple and - oh God, that noise, that little gasp at the back of Zach's throat and Chris was rock hard. He tweaked it again, rewarded by Zach shifting out of the button-down entirely and pulling Chris' cardigan from his arms.
All Chris could hear was the wet smack of lips, the dull scratch of two five-o'clock shadows and shifting fabric. Zach ran his hands over Chris' chest and began popping the buttons of his shirt with far more ease and class that Chris had done, top-half naked in seconds. The warm press of Zach's flat, furred body was unfamiliar, yet so entirely welcomed he could barely manage to mumble, "Zach, please..." as he bucked up slightly.
Zach moaned under his breath, "Bed."
"If people can walk away with one thing about this character, it's exactly that, it's... at the beginning, um, you know, he's kind of the... brash, arrogant young kid..."
He knows he's making Berkley look like preschool right now, but he can see Zach in his preriferal vision: looks away completely, stares past Chris, looks at his hands. And he knows - right then, he sees it so clearly - Zach is on his same train of thought.
Zach pushed Chris down onto the bed with a soft smile, so calm and serene and Chris thought it was so beautiful he could just die right then, knowing he'd never see something that gorgeous again. He was drunk and over dramatic, sure, but he forgot about death and, honestly, everything else when Zach crawled up from the foot of the mattress, cheap springs squeaking as he hovered over Chris' lower half.
"We can stop, you know... any time..." Zach's hands, so soft and hot, unbuckled Chris' belt and popped his fly. He smoothed over Chris' lower stomach. "I'm serious."
Chris laughed, "Zachary, will you fuckin' stop that? For both our sakes?" A slight upward angle to his hips for a moment, urging. "Come on. I'm not gonna run off at the sight of your dick."
Zach had laughed then, shaking his head. "Sorry, sorry... fuck, I am drunk... How do you always talk me into room service?" The zipper opened and suddenly Chris was being pulled free of his jeans, his underwear shifting down and looking a little slutty. Zach sighed and looked up at Chris.
"You're hard."
"Yeah, I know."
"... I make you hard?"
"Will you just... Jesus, Zach, please?"
Zach grinned and kissed Chris' cock through the fabric, just one gentle nip of a kiss, and Chris moaned, the challenging smirk melting from his face in a spinning whirl of pleasure. He looked down at Zach. "Again... please..."
His fingers were under the elastic of Chris' boxer-briefs as his mouth came down again, sucking against the hard, smooth length and fuck - Chris lost his entire train of thought. He moaned and gripped the blanket beneath him, whispering, "Oh please, Zachary, please stop teasing, I can't take it... Not right now, I can't, I need you..."
Zach made a low groaning sound, reached down and gave himself a squeeze before sitting up and removing his pants. His underwear was straining against the pressure of his cock, begging to break free, but he didn't let it go at first and Chris was a little disappointed - but the disappointment did not last for long. Zach was slipping Chris' boxer-briefs down slowly, the thick, near-painfully-hard cock boucing up and out like a soldier at-attention. Careful hands slid them off and then Zach was leaning down, straddling Chris' legs, wrapping one of those hands around Chris' length and he was squirming, putty.
"Oh God, oh God, please, Zach, I want this... I've wanted it for so long, please..."
Chris noticed a stutter in Zach's breath at the words and he was suddenly engulfed in wet heat, that gorgeous mouth wrapped around his cockhead and bobbing. He reached down, fingers tangled in Zach's product-polluted hair and moaned, "Ohhh, fuck... that's it, that's- ungh, Zach..."
Chris tried desperately to keep his eyes open, wanted to see every hollowing of Zach's cheeks and every bat of those thick, dark eyelashes. He palmed himself through his underwear and it was so fucking hot; how Chris could feel so turned on watching a man masturbate was not even a thought in his head any more. His cheeks were burning and he called out, "Zach! Zach, I'm close, I'm gonna come, I'm so-"
Zach pulled off and yanked his own briefs off, climbing up Chris' body. "Oh no you don't, not without me... " He kissed Chris' neck, careful not to leave marks as he took both of their cocks and began swiftly jerking them together, mumbling in Chris' ear.
"You gonna come, Christopher? Am I gonna make you fucking come all over yourself? Mmh, you're close, aren't you?" The dirty talk, he knew Zach was teasing him, but god fucking damn it he was okay with that.
"Yes, oh- please, Zaa-aach-"
"Hm? What's that?" His voice faltering just a bit - he had to be close, too. "Oh God, you're so hot like this, Chris, so fucking hot..."
"I think his journey is learning how to mold all of that, that, uhm, extreme energy into, you know, into utilizing it for good."
Chris made a squeaking sound, his hands tugging Zach's head down by the ears and sucking a heated kiss to his lips. He moaned against it, "Hnnyeah, oh yeah, Zachary... J-just a... Just a little more...!" His eyes rolled back into his head, then down to watch their cocks rub and slide, saliva and precome lubricating their every thrust into Zach's hand. "I-I'm close, I'm gonna come for you, oh shit oh shit oh-!"
"Nnngh...!" Zach groaned and pressed his lips haphazardly over Chris' face. His legs were shaking and the pace of his arm kicked into overdrive, intent fully and completely apparent. "Come on, Chris, do it, shoot..."
And shoot he did. A few more strokes and he was calling out and coming, drenching himself and Zach's cock in long, thick ropes, thicker than they should have been for being drunk.
After a few moments of panting, he whispered, "I came for you, Zach, come on, come for me..."
Zach, so uncharacteristically, wailed as he came, the sight of Chris' orgasm sending him into quaking spasms of heat as he spilled over his hand and Chris.
The interview is over and Zach is still refusing to look Chris in the eye.
"Two more for the day." Clears his throat, staring at his own crossed fingers. Chris nods, licking his lips nervously with a sigh.
"Back to the hotel after that, then, yeah?"
"Yeah."
Awkward silence before the next group of interviewers and crew come in, and Chris is an actor - he can turn it on at the drop of a hat, of course, but today is tough. He catches himself wondering, planning. Practising exactly what to say when he orders wine to their hotel room and how to approach Zach with the idea of a repeat performance. But currently, his confidence is lacking, and he continues to only glance in Zach's general direction when he needs to, fingers folded in his lap, hearing the words over and over again.
"So, tomorrow..." Chris carded his fingers through Zach's sweat-damp hair, listening to the way Zach pants on top of him, feeling the rise and fall against his own heaving chest. "Tomorrow, you... You'll still feel like this?"
"Like what?" Zach was still drunk, a little sass in his confident words. "Like you're fucking hot and I wish you weren't straight? Yeah, I'll still feel like that."
"What if I'm not straight?" Zach gave him a look and he backtracked. "No, I mean- I'm not gay, I know I'm not gay, but..." He licked his lips. "I know I loved that. The way you felt- the way you feel..."
Zach looked up and smiled, pressed a tender kiss to Chris' lips and bit softly. "As long as you're fine... I'm fine. We can talk about this tomorrow, maybe, when we're sober?"
Chris had nodded then, his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. "Good idea. Really good idea." He wrapped his arms around Zach, held him close, rolled him onto his side and snuggled against his chest.
"We should sleep..." Zach yawned. "Long day tomorrow."
The longest day of Chris' entire fucking life.