Going on holiday, here is a Pinto fic!
So, I have to get up at 5am to go to the airport tomorrow morning and I had lots of things I wanted to share with you guys, but I haven't actually started packing yet and I think that should probably take some sort of priority if I am to get any sleep.
I will be back on the 23th, will miss you all terribly.
I will leave you with a link to the most awesome poll ever, regarding ZQ's terrible and brilliant fashion choices and a fic.
Title: An exercise in courage
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: Zach lives his life by few but important rules, a new one he’s added a little too little, a little too late is being constantly amended, but the gist of it goes like this: don’t fall in love with your co-star-slash-best-friend-slash-casual-fuck.
A/N: Thanks to obstinatrix for the beta! This was inspired by Zach and Leonard Nimoy going to see Farragut North, the lack of any Pinto sightings for weeks prior to that and Zach wearing the same outfit the day after the play.
Present time (in which there are many reasons to lie)
“I thought you weren’t going to come.” Chris is sitting in his dressing room, apparently absorbed in removing his stage make up. He likes to do so by himself, as it helps him unwind after performing. It is currently failing to do so.
“Hm, well...I wasn’t, but Leonard talked some sense into me.” Zach carefully closes the door behind him and tries not to fidget. “Besides, I couldn’t miss you giving Obama a run for his charismatic money.”
Chris laughs at that and finally turns to look at Zach, if only to give him the finger.
Zach relaxes a fraction, but continues to stand by the door, because he hasn’t been offered a seat and because he is unsure of how to proceed. He still believes that he made the best decision in the circumstances. Perhaps an apology will help.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy, you know that.” Zach looks at the floor as he speaks, because he knows that the sight of Chris’s disappointed and ridiculously blue eyes will be the death of him.
“You should have stopped at 'sorry'. There is no reason to lie,” Chris says.
But there is. There are many reasons to lie, Zach knows, because he has to painstakingly list them to himself every time he is tempted to call Chris or stop by his house or read review after glowing review of his play.
Zach lives his life by few but important rules, a new one he’s added a little too little, a little too late is being constantly amended, but the gist of it goes like this: don’t fall in love with your co-star-slash-best-friend-slash-casual-fuck, and under no circumstances do something to ruin your friendship. It is a nice rule, he thinks, though he has come to realise it is impossible, because really, whatever he does, their friendship is ruined.
Three Weeks Ago (in which there is a sort of break up)
“The Paparazzi.” Zach says it like it’s obvious.
Chris is having none of that. “The Paps are going to be taking our pictures whether we go together or not,” he says, not unreasonably.
“Perhaps. The major difference being that if we are not together, there won’t be any pictures of that.” Zach doesn’t give a shit about paparazzi pictures, but it is the only half decent explanation he can think of. “It will only encourage them, and I don’t feel like adding any more wood to the fire, thank you.” His tone is deliberately clipped and he hopes it will prevent Chris from pressing the point any further.
“So, what? You want to just stop hanging out?” He sounds hurt and Zach shakes his head, knowing that he can only do this over the phone; he is too weak to do it in person. He is almost too weak to do it over the phone.
“Just cool it down for a little while. You understand,” Zach says and hates himself for it.
“Zach, are you breaking up with me?” Chris fails his attempt at light, because it hits too close to home, but Zach tries to laugh it off anyway, little else he can do, besides it’s not a break up, there is no such thing as a break up without a relationship to break off. And isn’t that the whole point?
It is the third worst phone call of his life.
“All right. If that’s what you want,” Chris acquiesces and Zach hangs up to stop himself from saying no.
And Chris is as good as his word: they don’t speak for weeks. Carefully dancing around each other, it works only because they know each other’s habits so well, and the irony of that is not lost on Zach.
Three Hours Ago (In which Zach is an idiot and Leonard is wise)
When Zach opens his front door, he is holding cash in his hand, expecting the pizza delivery guy, not Leonard, fucking, Nimoy. Leonard has been to his house before, but never unannounced and Zach frowns a little, hastily pocketing the money as he waves him in, feeling self-conscious. Leonard is still looking at him, not saying anything and Zach has to swallow the sudden urge to say “It wasn’t me,” because he feels like he is about to get scolded. Turns out he isn’t quite wrong.
“You are an idiot.” Leonard says it with a raised eyebrow which makes Zach feel this small.
“Leonard, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he says pointedly, though it comes across more petulantly than anything.
“Hello, Zach, I still stand by my previous statement.”
“And what precisely makes me an idiot?”
Leonard looks at him in a way that is very disconcerting indeed and seemingly changes the topic, but Zach know the topic isn’t changed at all. “You haven’t seen Chris’s play yet.”
He wants to go, he really fucking wants to go, and he knows distance isn’t really helping, but going to see Chris’s play, a political power play, with fast paced, clever dialogue (it is like someone has made porn aimed at all of Zach’s kinks) would be too damn masochistic.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks, because the silence is more telling.
“No, thank you. This is not a social call. You have five minutes to get ready.”
And Zach thinks he is following the plot pretty well so far, but now he is confused and Leonard sighs and looks very tired for a moment and Zach would just get ready, but the problem remains that he still doesn’t know what he is getting ready for.
“Get ready for what?”
“You really are an idiot. We are going to see Farragut North. Here is your ticket,” and there really is a ticket which Leonard has been holding the entire time but Zach had been too preoccupied to notice.
“What? Now?” he asks, because it really is a bit sudden. He and Leonard keep in touch of course, but it is mostly by email and surely he could have mentioned this rather than turning up like that.
“Yes, now. You have five minutes to change or we’ll be late. And before you ask, no, you weren’t the first owner of this ticket. Apparently I’ve got two stubborn idiots to deal with.”
Ah. Zach thinks, this has something to do with Bill. No wonder Leonard had looked so forlorn, but all he does is nod carefully and go off to change, selecting a nondescript dark jumper and black jeans - there is no time to put his contacts in and his hair is a mess and so he quickly grabs his army cap and follows Leonard into the car.
They are both quiet on the drive to the theatre. Zach is attempting to prepare himself for seeing Chris with an array of (each worse than the next) possible opening lines and rehearses the way their meeting would go, which does little to calm his nerves.
Eventually he turns to Leonard. He means to ask what is it exactly that he thinks he knows about him and Chris, but what comes out is “Are you all right?”
The old man takes a while to respond, seemingly pondering it. “Yes,” comes the eventual reply. “Nothing major. Bill didn’t want to come, saying something about not wanting to steal the new kid’s spotlight.” And Zach bites the inside of his mouth to stop himself laughing at that, but it’s okay, because Leonard is grinning fondly as he carries on “though I know he's still a little defensive about the entire thing, so I left him sulking behind only to discover that you are also being an idiot.”
Zach doesn’t need to ask how Leonard knows. It doesn’t really matter. He is an idiot, but he very well may be an idiot in love and he can’t deal with it any more, not when Chris is close enough to touch, but not to keep, and the sex may have been fantastic, but it only made things worse after. A break is best for both of them; he once again tries to convince himself of the truth of that statement.
“I don’t know how not to be. I am trying to get over my unrequited love, and this is the only way I could see how.” Zach doesn’t even try to hide the bitterness in his voice.
“A funny word, unrequited. Are you quite sure that’s the case?”
Of course he is fucking sure. Chris has always made it clear that he doesn’t want a relationship, and he may sit too close on the couch and steal food from Zach’s plate and call him in the middle of the night to tell him about this great idea he’s just dreamt of (or at least he did, until three weeks ago) but just because Chris has no concept of personal space, it’s not his problem that Zach’s heart misinterpreted. And Zach tried, he fucking tried to be content with what he’s got, but when it comes down to it, he really isn’t a sharer and he is self aware enough to know when he needs to get away.
“Have you actually said anything to him?” Leonard presses the point.
“No, of course not. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”
“Don’t you? And when is the last time you’ve seen him?”
Leonard has a point there, but Zach knows that a sappy confession will only make things awkward, and as much as he used to hate the late night phone calls (lies), the image of Chris walking on eggshells so as to not give him the wrong idea causes him near physical pain.
Leonard shakes his head like he can tell what he is thinking. “Just talk to him. You have no control over his reaction, so it's best to focus on what you want and see what happens.”
“Are you seriously quoting my interview lines back at me?”
“If you weren’t going to listen to my advice, I thought you might listen to your own.”
The theatre is busy and awash with conversations about Michael Jackson’s death, which means fewer people are paying attention to him, for which Zach is thankful as he gets himself a stiff drink, knowing that he will need it later. He can still feel heavy gazes of recognition and normally he wouldn’t mind too much talking to fans, but not right now and thankfully his glare scares away any potential approaches.
The play is predictably fantastic though he is guilty of getting distracted from the plot by Chris’s indisputable stage presence, and the butterflies threatening to explode out of him.
Present Time (In which there is melodrama, because Zach is still an idiot)
“I’ve missed you.” Zach says after a pregnant pause, only then daring to glance at Chris, who is looking up at him with his arms folded defensively across his chest and his feet bare. And really, at the sight of him something catches at Zach’s throat and it is only the image of Leonard’s disappointment that stops him from bolting right out of the dressing room.
“I send you an invitation for opening night,” Chris says by way of responding. “You didn’t reply, you didn’t come - seeing you amongst the audience tonight almost threw me out of character, man. You should have said something.”
“I was an idiot,” Zach offers, borrowing from Leonard. “The paparazzi are not the reason for…” He trails off, as his heart is beating loudly in his throat and speaking feels physically impossible.
Chris looks at him for a long moment, waiting, but when all Zach does is gape at him like a fish he swears and swerves back to his mirror, resuming the careful dabbing of the cotton pad along his brow.
Zach swallows at that and sits heavily on the small couch, worrying at his ticket, until it resembles little else than paper mush and still the silence grows.
Chris is the first to break it. “Will you stop that?” he asks, and Zach isn’t sure what until he follows Chris’s pointed gaze and becomes aware he’s been tapping his foot against the floor. He stills it, feeling foolish.
“Just tell me, what it is that I did exactly?” Chris asks with a sigh.
“Nothing, it’s not you,” Zach replies hastily and it takes a second for the words to catch up to his brain and he winces.
Chris laughs. “It’s you? Are we really resorting to such clichés?”
“Sorry. What I mean is.” And he really doesn’t know what he means.
But at least Chris is more amused than angry now, so he must be doing something right.
“The always eloquent Zachary Quinto at a loss for words. I wonder what has caused such an anomaly.” And his tongue rolls around the word like it always does.
And the familiarity of it is somehow comforting and gives Zach the necessary courage to look at Chris and say, “You,” like it makes perfect sense. And maybe it does, or maybe Chris can finally read him, because Chris too falls silent and his eyes widen as something akin to realisation settles there.
And Zach has run this moment through his head countless times, but nothing prepares for the reality of it. He shuts his eyes trying to shield himself from the imminent blow-up. But he has to open them eventually when met with nothing but silence.
“If you don’t say something…” Zach begins, because Chris is still only looking, and Zach just wants his polite rebuttal; he can deal with that (he hopes), but not with this silence.
“I don’t know what to say. I thought you got sick of me,” Chris says eventually, a look of wonder in his eyes that Zach can’t quite understand.
And Zach has really had enough of this. Could Chris really think - - - ?
“Don’t be ridiculous. How can I get sick of you when you always left before the sun was up?” Zach says, because there are many more appropriate things he could have said, but it is this that hurts the most.
And Chris looks incredulous for a moment before answering, his voice low. “You never asked me to stay.”
And Zach hadn’t, but only because he didn’t want to appear clingy, he didn’t want to tip Chris off about how he felt. Chris had wanted casual, Zach could do casual - until he couldn’t, of course, which is the reason for the current mess.
“Excuse me? You were the one telling me how these were not times for relationships, how much you value your freedom and all that bullshit.”
“Um, are you shitting me? That was just after Beau kicked me out, I was off my face drunk and feeling sorry for myself, I am pretty sure there was singing; who in the hell would take that at face value?”
“And kissing.” Zach says. “That was the first time you kissed me, after your girlfriend dumped you. What was I supposed to think?”
“Yeah, like I said, I wasn’t at my best, but you never showed any clue you approved of my advances. In fact, you put up a protest half the time.”
“Because you were drunk! You would turn up in the middle of the night for a booty call, which I was too weak to refuse, despite how I felt the next morning.”
Chris looks up sharply at that, and bites his lip. He looks agitated, two bright spots of colour high on his cheeks. “I needed the courage. It wasn’t like that. I thought if I was persistent, you would understand how much I wanted you, you would want me back. But you never looked me in the eye after it was over and then the day after I confessed my feelings, you broke it off.”
Zach clings to the one thing he can make sense of . “Broke what off? We were never in a relationship, Chris. I wanted, I want so much more than you were willing to give, and I tried to be satisfied, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Chris looks frustrated now. “Zach, are you actually listening to me? Did you seriously not hear what I just said?”
And Zach does, only apparently his self destruct mode is difficult to pull back from. “What do you mean you confessed? Telling someone you love them as you're climaxing doesn’t exactly count.”
Chris just looks at him for a beat and then he laughs. “You know, for an exceptionally intelligent person, you really are an idiot.”
“So I’ve heard,” Zach says, but his words are muffled, because Chris is kissing him now and he feels like he can fly.
The Morning After (in which Zach needs a change of clothes)
Zach gets up early the next morning, donning last night’s clothes (and a pair of Chris’s boxers) and wanders the streets in an attempt to clear his head, because his reality has dramatically shifted overnight and he needs coffee before he can fully process it. Because he is a little afraid that Chris will have changed his mind and because he has an irrational fear of the morning after, no matter who he is with.
He ends up in Starbucks. It is early enough for people not to bother him, and so he drinks his coffee there, and is getting another to take back to Chris, when his cell rings.
He looks at the caller id and smiles.
“Good morning, sunshine. Getting your coffee just the way you like it.”
Chris laughs, his voice low and still rough with sleep. “So you are coming back?” He totally fails at casual and Zach’s smile widens.
“Yes, I am.”
I will be back on the 23th, will miss you all terribly.
I will leave you with a link to the most awesome poll ever, regarding ZQ's terrible and brilliant fashion choices and a fic.
Title: An exercise in courage
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: Zach lives his life by few but important rules, a new one he’s added a little too little, a little too late is being constantly amended, but the gist of it goes like this: don’t fall in love with your co-star-slash-best-friend-slash-casual-fuck.
A/N: Thanks to obstinatrix for the beta! This was inspired by Zach and Leonard Nimoy going to see Farragut North, the lack of any Pinto sightings for weeks prior to that and Zach wearing the same outfit the day after the play.
Present time (in which there are many reasons to lie)
“I thought you weren’t going to come.” Chris is sitting in his dressing room, apparently absorbed in removing his stage make up. He likes to do so by himself, as it helps him unwind after performing. It is currently failing to do so.
“Hm, well...I wasn’t, but Leonard talked some sense into me.” Zach carefully closes the door behind him and tries not to fidget. “Besides, I couldn’t miss you giving Obama a run for his charismatic money.”
Chris laughs at that and finally turns to look at Zach, if only to give him the finger.
Zach relaxes a fraction, but continues to stand by the door, because he hasn’t been offered a seat and because he is unsure of how to proceed. He still believes that he made the best decision in the circumstances. Perhaps an apology will help.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy, you know that.” Zach looks at the floor as he speaks, because he knows that the sight of Chris’s disappointed and ridiculously blue eyes will be the death of him.
“You should have stopped at 'sorry'. There is no reason to lie,” Chris says.
But there is. There are many reasons to lie, Zach knows, because he has to painstakingly list them to himself every time he is tempted to call Chris or stop by his house or read review after glowing review of his play.
Zach lives his life by few but important rules, a new one he’s added a little too little, a little too late is being constantly amended, but the gist of it goes like this: don’t fall in love with your co-star-slash-best-friend-slash-casual-fuck, and under no circumstances do something to ruin your friendship. It is a nice rule, he thinks, though he has come to realise it is impossible, because really, whatever he does, their friendship is ruined.
Three Weeks Ago (in which there is a sort of break up)
“The Paparazzi.” Zach says it like it’s obvious.
Chris is having none of that. “The Paps are going to be taking our pictures whether we go together or not,” he says, not unreasonably.
“Perhaps. The major difference being that if we are not together, there won’t be any pictures of that.” Zach doesn’t give a shit about paparazzi pictures, but it is the only half decent explanation he can think of. “It will only encourage them, and I don’t feel like adding any more wood to the fire, thank you.” His tone is deliberately clipped and he hopes it will prevent Chris from pressing the point any further.
“So, what? You want to just stop hanging out?” He sounds hurt and Zach shakes his head, knowing that he can only do this over the phone; he is too weak to do it in person. He is almost too weak to do it over the phone.
“Just cool it down for a little while. You understand,” Zach says and hates himself for it.
“Zach, are you breaking up with me?” Chris fails his attempt at light, because it hits too close to home, but Zach tries to laugh it off anyway, little else he can do, besides it’s not a break up, there is no such thing as a break up without a relationship to break off. And isn’t that the whole point?
It is the third worst phone call of his life.
“All right. If that’s what you want,” Chris acquiesces and Zach hangs up to stop himself from saying no.
And Chris is as good as his word: they don’t speak for weeks. Carefully dancing around each other, it works only because they know each other’s habits so well, and the irony of that is not lost on Zach.
Three Hours Ago (In which Zach is an idiot and Leonard is wise)
When Zach opens his front door, he is holding cash in his hand, expecting the pizza delivery guy, not Leonard, fucking, Nimoy. Leonard has been to his house before, but never unannounced and Zach frowns a little, hastily pocketing the money as he waves him in, feeling self-conscious. Leonard is still looking at him, not saying anything and Zach has to swallow the sudden urge to say “It wasn’t me,” because he feels like he is about to get scolded. Turns out he isn’t quite wrong.
“You are an idiot.” Leonard says it with a raised eyebrow which makes Zach feel this small.
“Leonard, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he says pointedly, though it comes across more petulantly than anything.
“Hello, Zach, I still stand by my previous statement.”
“And what precisely makes me an idiot?”
Leonard looks at him in a way that is very disconcerting indeed and seemingly changes the topic, but Zach know the topic isn’t changed at all. “You haven’t seen Chris’s play yet.”
He wants to go, he really fucking wants to go, and he knows distance isn’t really helping, but going to see Chris’s play, a political power play, with fast paced, clever dialogue (it is like someone has made porn aimed at all of Zach’s kinks) would be too damn masochistic.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks, because the silence is more telling.
“No, thank you. This is not a social call. You have five minutes to get ready.”
And Zach thinks he is following the plot pretty well so far, but now he is confused and Leonard sighs and looks very tired for a moment and Zach would just get ready, but the problem remains that he still doesn’t know what he is getting ready for.
“Get ready for what?”
“You really are an idiot. We are going to see Farragut North. Here is your ticket,” and there really is a ticket which Leonard has been holding the entire time but Zach had been too preoccupied to notice.
“What? Now?” he asks, because it really is a bit sudden. He and Leonard keep in touch of course, but it is mostly by email and surely he could have mentioned this rather than turning up like that.
“Yes, now. You have five minutes to change or we’ll be late. And before you ask, no, you weren’t the first owner of this ticket. Apparently I’ve got two stubborn idiots to deal with.”
Ah. Zach thinks, this has something to do with Bill. No wonder Leonard had looked so forlorn, but all he does is nod carefully and go off to change, selecting a nondescript dark jumper and black jeans - there is no time to put his contacts in and his hair is a mess and so he quickly grabs his army cap and follows Leonard into the car.
They are both quiet on the drive to the theatre. Zach is attempting to prepare himself for seeing Chris with an array of (each worse than the next) possible opening lines and rehearses the way their meeting would go, which does little to calm his nerves.
Eventually he turns to Leonard. He means to ask what is it exactly that he thinks he knows about him and Chris, but what comes out is “Are you all right?”
The old man takes a while to respond, seemingly pondering it. “Yes,” comes the eventual reply. “Nothing major. Bill didn’t want to come, saying something about not wanting to steal the new kid’s spotlight.” And Zach bites the inside of his mouth to stop himself laughing at that, but it’s okay, because Leonard is grinning fondly as he carries on “though I know he's still a little defensive about the entire thing, so I left him sulking behind only to discover that you are also being an idiot.”
Zach doesn’t need to ask how Leonard knows. It doesn’t really matter. He is an idiot, but he very well may be an idiot in love and he can’t deal with it any more, not when Chris is close enough to touch, but not to keep, and the sex may have been fantastic, but it only made things worse after. A break is best for both of them; he once again tries to convince himself of the truth of that statement.
“I don’t know how not to be. I am trying to get over my unrequited love, and this is the only way I could see how.” Zach doesn’t even try to hide the bitterness in his voice.
“A funny word, unrequited. Are you quite sure that’s the case?”
Of course he is fucking sure. Chris has always made it clear that he doesn’t want a relationship, and he may sit too close on the couch and steal food from Zach’s plate and call him in the middle of the night to tell him about this great idea he’s just dreamt of (or at least he did, until three weeks ago) but just because Chris has no concept of personal space, it’s not his problem that Zach’s heart misinterpreted. And Zach tried, he fucking tried to be content with what he’s got, but when it comes down to it, he really isn’t a sharer and he is self aware enough to know when he needs to get away.
“Have you actually said anything to him?” Leonard presses the point.
“No, of course not. I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”
“Don’t you? And when is the last time you’ve seen him?”
Leonard has a point there, but Zach knows that a sappy confession will only make things awkward, and as much as he used to hate the late night phone calls (lies), the image of Chris walking on eggshells so as to not give him the wrong idea causes him near physical pain.
Leonard shakes his head like he can tell what he is thinking. “Just talk to him. You have no control over his reaction, so it's best to focus on what you want and see what happens.”
“Are you seriously quoting my interview lines back at me?”
“If you weren’t going to listen to my advice, I thought you might listen to your own.”
The theatre is busy and awash with conversations about Michael Jackson’s death, which means fewer people are paying attention to him, for which Zach is thankful as he gets himself a stiff drink, knowing that he will need it later. He can still feel heavy gazes of recognition and normally he wouldn’t mind too much talking to fans, but not right now and thankfully his glare scares away any potential approaches.
The play is predictably fantastic though he is guilty of getting distracted from the plot by Chris’s indisputable stage presence, and the butterflies threatening to explode out of him.
Present Time (In which there is melodrama, because Zach is still an idiot)
“I’ve missed you.” Zach says after a pregnant pause, only then daring to glance at Chris, who is looking up at him with his arms folded defensively across his chest and his feet bare. And really, at the sight of him something catches at Zach’s throat and it is only the image of Leonard’s disappointment that stops him from bolting right out of the dressing room.
“I send you an invitation for opening night,” Chris says by way of responding. “You didn’t reply, you didn’t come - seeing you amongst the audience tonight almost threw me out of character, man. You should have said something.”
“I was an idiot,” Zach offers, borrowing from Leonard. “The paparazzi are not the reason for…” He trails off, as his heart is beating loudly in his throat and speaking feels physically impossible.
Chris looks at him for a long moment, waiting, but when all Zach does is gape at him like a fish he swears and swerves back to his mirror, resuming the careful dabbing of the cotton pad along his brow.
Zach swallows at that and sits heavily on the small couch, worrying at his ticket, until it resembles little else than paper mush and still the silence grows.
Chris is the first to break it. “Will you stop that?” he asks, and Zach isn’t sure what until he follows Chris’s pointed gaze and becomes aware he’s been tapping his foot against the floor. He stills it, feeling foolish.
“Just tell me, what it is that I did exactly?” Chris asks with a sigh.
“Nothing, it’s not you,” Zach replies hastily and it takes a second for the words to catch up to his brain and he winces.
Chris laughs. “It’s you? Are we really resorting to such clichés?”
“Sorry. What I mean is.” And he really doesn’t know what he means.
But at least Chris is more amused than angry now, so he must be doing something right.
“The always eloquent Zachary Quinto at a loss for words. I wonder what has caused such an anomaly.” And his tongue rolls around the word like it always does.
And the familiarity of it is somehow comforting and gives Zach the necessary courage to look at Chris and say, “You,” like it makes perfect sense. And maybe it does, or maybe Chris can finally read him, because Chris too falls silent and his eyes widen as something akin to realisation settles there.
And Zach has run this moment through his head countless times, but nothing prepares for the reality of it. He shuts his eyes trying to shield himself from the imminent blow-up. But he has to open them eventually when met with nothing but silence.
“If you don’t say something…” Zach begins, because Chris is still only looking, and Zach just wants his polite rebuttal; he can deal with that (he hopes), but not with this silence.
“I don’t know what to say. I thought you got sick of me,” Chris says eventually, a look of wonder in his eyes that Zach can’t quite understand.
And Zach has really had enough of this. Could Chris really think - - - ?
“Don’t be ridiculous. How can I get sick of you when you always left before the sun was up?” Zach says, because there are many more appropriate things he could have said, but it is this that hurts the most.
And Chris looks incredulous for a moment before answering, his voice low. “You never asked me to stay.”
And Zach hadn’t, but only because he didn’t want to appear clingy, he didn’t want to tip Chris off about how he felt. Chris had wanted casual, Zach could do casual - until he couldn’t, of course, which is the reason for the current mess.
“Excuse me? You were the one telling me how these were not times for relationships, how much you value your freedom and all that bullshit.”
“Um, are you shitting me? That was just after Beau kicked me out, I was off my face drunk and feeling sorry for myself, I am pretty sure there was singing; who in the hell would take that at face value?”
“And kissing.” Zach says. “That was the first time you kissed me, after your girlfriend dumped you. What was I supposed to think?”
“Yeah, like I said, I wasn’t at my best, but you never showed any clue you approved of my advances. In fact, you put up a protest half the time.”
“Because you were drunk! You would turn up in the middle of the night for a booty call, which I was too weak to refuse, despite how I felt the next morning.”
Chris looks up sharply at that, and bites his lip. He looks agitated, two bright spots of colour high on his cheeks. “I needed the courage. It wasn’t like that. I thought if I was persistent, you would understand how much I wanted you, you would want me back. But you never looked me in the eye after it was over and then the day after I confessed my feelings, you broke it off.”
Zach clings to the one thing he can make sense of . “Broke what off? We were never in a relationship, Chris. I wanted, I want so much more than you were willing to give, and I tried to be satisfied, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Chris looks frustrated now. “Zach, are you actually listening to me? Did you seriously not hear what I just said?”
And Zach does, only apparently his self destruct mode is difficult to pull back from. “What do you mean you confessed? Telling someone you love them as you're climaxing doesn’t exactly count.”
Chris just looks at him for a beat and then he laughs. “You know, for an exceptionally intelligent person, you really are an idiot.”
“So I’ve heard,” Zach says, but his words are muffled, because Chris is kissing him now and he feels like he can fly.
The Morning After (in which Zach needs a change of clothes)
Zach gets up early the next morning, donning last night’s clothes (and a pair of Chris’s boxers) and wanders the streets in an attempt to clear his head, because his reality has dramatically shifted overnight and he needs coffee before he can fully process it. Because he is a little afraid that Chris will have changed his mind and because he has an irrational fear of the morning after, no matter who he is with.
He ends up in Starbucks. It is early enough for people not to bother him, and so he drinks his coffee there, and is getting another to take back to Chris, when his cell rings.
He looks at the caller id and smiles.
“Good morning, sunshine. Getting your coffee just the way you like it.”
Chris laughs, his voice low and still rough with sleep. “So you are coming back?” He totally fails at casual and Zach’s smile widens.
“Yes, I am.”