Yo Quiero
And now a break from your regularly scheduled programming...
Rating: M
Pairing: Zachary Quinto/Chris Pine
Warnings: RPF, sex, drug use, language
Word Count: 2678
Summary: Zach can't help but giggle at Chris' enormous burrito.
Just so you guys know, this monstrosity came from dee's icon and a request by nuclearsugars.
"Okay, okay, okay, okay. Okay. Okay. So I'mma need two bean and rice burritos, Fresco style, and a large Baja Blast," Zach leaned over Chris and giggled at the intercom. Even though it was two in the morning, Zach's favorite Ray-Bans bobbed on the end of his nose.
"And three steak Grilled Stuffed Burritos. And a Mexican Pizza, and a Pepsi," added Chris, who was slightly more composed. The tinny voice on the other side of the speaker said something that sounded like numbers, or purple, and suggested that they move to the next window. Zach giggled.
Chris pulled out his wallet and moved the car forward, where a grouchy looking older woman was peering down into their vehicle from the window. She repeated the total, and Chris handed her his debit card, not wanting to bother with something as complicated as cash.
"Do you need any sauce?"
Chris began to decline, but he was abruptly cut short by his friend.
"Oh my god, do you have that new green sauce?" Zach was leaning so far over toward the driver's window that he was practically in Chris's lap. "Because I love that stuff. I mean, I put it on eeeevvverryything. Do you have any?" His eyes were as wide as saucers and his hushed tone could only be described as conspiratorial.
"Yes... sir..." the worker said suspiciously and shoved a handful into their bag. "You two have a good night," she said as she handed Chris the warm plastic bag and the absolutely unnecessarily large sodas. Chris handed Zach the bag of food so he could attempt to finagle the sodas into the too-small cup holders.
"I am so so so so so excited about this burrito," Zach gushed as they pulled away. "Dude, fuck man, what did you even get?" he asked as he pulled Chris's enormous burritos from the bag. Chris, realizing that driving and eating at the same time was far beyond his mental capabilities at the moment, pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot.
"It's a Grilled Stuffed Burrito. It's got like, steak, and like, rice, and like, beans I think, and like, cheese and stuff, and like, I dunno, tomatoes or some shit..."
"But you got three of them! They're huge!"
"Yeah, I was really hungry, I dunno." Chris shrugged. "Hand me one."
Zach tried to suppress a laugh as he passed the burrito toward Chris.
"What, man? You laughing at my burrito, Zach?"
Holding up his own burrito, which was barely half the size, Zach exploded in giggles. "It's like, yours is big, and like, mine is so much, like, you know, littler."
"Yeah." Chris tore the top of the wrapping off his burrito and shoved a mouthful in his face. He looked at Zach confusedly as he ate.
"So like, yours," he tried to catch his breath, "...is bigger than mine... and like, you're eating it, with your mouth, and... oh my god." Zach tried to find his train of thought, but he was rapidly derailed when Chris looked over at him, a smear of sour cream across his cheek.
"Dude, Zach, what the fuck?" Chris asked.
"Chris... to... pher..." Zach choked between laughs, "your face, it's like, oh my god, can you just look?"
Chris flipped down his visor and peered in the mirror. When Chris spotted the sour cream, he rubbed it off with the back of his free hand. "Just sour cream, man," he said as he stuck his hand in his mouth to clean off the offending substance.
"And you just!!" Zach was completely beside himself. "Oh my god! You licked it! Do you even?"
"Huh?" Chris was completely oblivious as he continued to devour the burrito. He reached down to take a drink from his soda, completely missing the fact that the one he grabbed had a slight blue color visible through the translucent lid. "What the fuck is this shit?" he spewed, not even bothering to try to swallow. "It tastes like, I dunno, Smurf piss or some shit!"
Zach grabbed the drink from Chris' hand defensively. "Okay, it's Baja Blast. You know, it's like, a blast. From the Baja. It means like, the short, or something... so it's like Mountain Dew, but like maybe it's a really short Mountain, so, it's blue, because, it's not yellow yet. Because that's from tall mountains." Zach nodded, feeling as if he had sufficiently defended his beverage, and took a long drink.
"Oh, okay. Yeah." Chris agreed. He took another bite and once again, sour cream was all over his face. The burrito began to collapse in Chris' hand, so he tried to eat it even faster.
"Oh my god, Chris, I wish I could like, make a movie of you eating that burrito, so I could watch it every day. I would watch it like, three times a day. Or eight," said Zach, who was still neglecting his food.
"What are you even talking about, Quinto?" Chris asked. "You're like, totally not making any sense at all."
"You are so dumb. So like, you had the burrito, and it was bigger than mine, right?"
"Uh-huh..."
"See so I was jealous, because I was like, oh my god, yours is bigger, I'm jealous."
"Uh-huh."
"But then you were eating the burrito, and I was like, oh my god, seriously, you're eating the big burrito, you know? And then there was sour cream and it was like, all over your face, right?"
"Uh...huh?"
"Right." Zach nodded.
"What? I'm missing something."
"God, Christopher. It's like the burrito is a penis." Zach decided he would let that sink in for a minute and unwrapped his own, significantly smaller, burrito. He was just taking a bite when Chris spoke back up.
"Dude, you're watching me eat a burrito, and you're thinking it's like a penis. You're so fucking gay."
It was Zach's turn to mumble "Uh-huh," with a mouth full of beans and rice. Zach fished out a package of green sauce and squirted it liberally across the top of his burrito. "Whaddayaexpectmetathink?" He said as he took another bite. He swallowed and continued, "It's like you're eating that thing, and you're like, if a whore didn't have any cock, and then had some. You know."
"Gimme another one, man?" Chris asked, and Zach obliged with a giddy grin. As he wrapped his lips around the top of his second burrito, Chris tried his best to ignore what was running through Zach's mind. Zach was slurping happily on his noxious teal soda when Chris stopped chewing, a thought on his mind. Forgetting his tongue was currently occupied with steak, he stumbled over his words. "Icoulddohelluvalotbetterpenis."
Zach stopped slurping and looked over. "What was that, Chris?"
Chris swallowed and repeated, "I could do a hell of a lot better with a penis." Zach nudged his sunglasses further down on his nose and peered at Chris. "I mean, I'm just saying, it's not like... penises are made of steak, so you wouldn't like, I dunno, chew one?" Chris began to backtrack. "I mean, you know? So like, the biting, that would be bad... yeah... yeah." He crossed his legs, ankle to opposite knee, and slid down in his seat.
"You're a faggot," said Zach flatly.
"Dude, you can't just like, tell people they're faggots, man."
"I just did. You're all like, talking about giving blow jobs to burritos, or something. Fag."
"Hey hey hey! Hey! You were the one who was all like, 'oh my god Chris, it's like the burrito is a penis' and now I'm the fag?"
"Uh-huh." Zach nodded. "Pretty much, man." He broke into a grin, and Chris realized he had been kidding.
"Fuck man, you can't just like, do that shit. I don't even know."
"Yeah," said Zach, returning his attention to his oversized straw, which he had chewed completely flat on top. After a moment, he turned to look at Chris. "Didja wanna smoke some more?"
"Hell yeah, I thought you'd never ask." Chris beamed.
Zach fished around in the pocket of his purple hoodie and pulled out a small glass pipe. "Packed it earlier, you can hit greens," he said as he passed the pipe toward Chris. He dug a purple Bic lighter from his pocket and handed that to his friend, as well.
"Here?" asked Chris, looking around for anyone with anything that resembled a camera, but the parking lot was practically deserted.
"Of course, Princess, it's the middle of the night on a Wednesday. Who's gonna see us?"
"You know what? You're right, I don't give a fuck," Chris said as he flicked the lighter on, brought it to the end of the pipe, and inhaled deeply. He coughed a bit and the small car filled with smoke. Chris passed the pipe and lighter to his friend and slid further down in his seat.
"I don't think..." Zach paused, took a hit, and exhaled, "...you woud do better," he concluded.
"Huh?"
"The blow job, burrito, whatever, man." Zach handed Chris the pipe again.
"Oh, word." Chris filled his lungs with smoke and turned to look at Zach. "Wait, you don't think I could do better?"
"Naw man, you're straight, you know." Zach waved his hand in the air, either to clear the smoke, or to punctuate his sentence, or both.
"Oh you don't know." Chris took another hit before he passed Zach his pipe. "I think I killed it."
Zach tapped the bowl on his palm a few times to expel the ash before peering down into it. "Yeah, dead. Damn, man. That was all I brought."
"I'll make it up to you."
"Yeah, whatever, Chris. You always do smoke all my stuff, I don't care."
"No, Zach, I'll make it up to you." Chris reached across the center console and placed his hand on Zach's knee.
"Want your third burrito?" Zach asked.
"Ah... you could say that, I guess."
Zach blinked, not understanding. "Mexican Pizza?" Chris just shook his head as he ran his hand up Zach's leg. He grabbed the bag of food from Zach's lap and dropped it in the floor at his feet.
"I want to show you I can do better." Chris' hand was now easing over the curve of Zach's thigh, into his lap, where Zach was already somewhat hard from the thoughts that the sour cream incident had triggered.
Zach, suddenly understanding, shook his head rapidly. "What? What are you doing?"
"Middle of the night on a Wednesday, man, who's gonna see us?" Chris grinned as he unbuckled his seat belt and leaned toward Zach, reaching for Zach's sunglasses and ultimately discarding them beside the burritos. Unable to argue with his own logic, Zach shrugged and hesitantly decided to go along for the ride.
Chris tentatively ran his hand across Zach's crotch, feeling his length through the tight jeans. Zach squirmed in his seat a little, his cock hardening at Chris' touch. Chris slowly, excruciatingly, reached for the button on Zach's jeans and popped it free. He was equally as slow with the zipper, and Zach mentally cussed as he watched the individual teeth of his zipper open one by one. Then Chris was reaching down into Zach's black boxers, wrapping his hand around Zach's throbbing cock, and Zach's heart was thudding through his chest and he could not bear to look anymore. Zach tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He felt his cock suddenly pulled free of his jeans and he gasped as it hit the cool air, so drastically different than the warm bag of Mexican food that he had been using to hide his erection.
"Oh my god, Chris," the words escaped Zach's lips like a sigh as Chris slid his hand up and down Zach's shaft. It had happened so suddenly that his thoughts were unable to keep up with the actions that were currently unfolding. Now Chris' head was in Zach's lap, Chris' hand was still tightly wrapped around Zach's shaft as his mouth hovered only inches away from the head, Chris was so close that Zach could feel his breath upon him. Zach gasped hard as Chris suddenly, impulsively, wrapped his lips around Zach's aching cock. Where had this come from? Something about burritos? How did this happen? Zach couldn't even remember anymore but he was reciting thank you Chris, thank you pot, thank you Taco Bell, over and over again in his foggy mind.
Chris' hesitance, his inexperience, his drugged state, none of it mattered, because Zach had been dreaming of this moment for so fucking long that there was no way it could be anything other than amazing. Zach felt Chris run his tongue down Zach's length slowly, burying his face in Zach's jeans and running his tongue back and forth along the sensitive spot near the base. And now, Chris was reaching his free hand into Zach's boxers again, cupping every bit of Zach between his hands and returning his mouth to the tip. Chris traced circles around the head of Zach's cock, his tongue making slow, languid strokes around the edge. Zach moaned and arched his back, mentally begging for Christopher to devour him. He ran his fingers through Chris' sandy hair, trying, but failing, not to put pressure on the back of Chris' head.
Taking the hint, Chris enveloped Zach with his mouth, taking as much of Zach in as he possibly could. Zach's hips bucked forward, and Chris grinned at this response as much as is possible with a mouthful of cock. He rotated his hand as he began to slide his lips up and down along Zach's cock, a moan escaping Chris' own lips as he ventured a look up at Zach. His head thrown back in ecstasy, one hand knitted through his own hair, the other hand resting on Chris' neck, the man looked absolutely gorgeous. Zach's eyes were wrenched shut in concentration and delight and Chris knew he must be doing something correctly.
Chris allowed Zach's hand to guide his pace, and when Zach began to increase the pressure, Chris quickened his motion. The hand that was buried in Zach's pants now ventured south, searching for the right place under Zach's balls. A tensing of Zach's muscles made Chris sure that he had found what he was looking for. Chris applied pressure with his knuckle, and Zach yelped in delight. Spots were now swimming before Zach's eyes as he stared intently at the tan celling of the vehicle. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, he thought. He was so close, if only Chris would... and then, as if Chris was reading his mind, he slurped all of Zach into his mouth. Chris sucked hard, hungrily, desperately, spit escaping his lips and running down over his hands. Chris moaned again and bobbed his head furiously, knowing Zach was close, feeling how hard Zach was pulsing against his tongue. With a hard breath, Zach snapped his head down. He had been holding his breath, barely able to form a thought in his mind, but he knew he had to watch because god, he had no idea when he would get this lucky again. The sight of Chris absolutely relishing in his cock was enough to send Zach over the edge. Blindingly, searingly, achingly, so hard and fast that Zach didn't even have the chance to shout, Zach exploded down Chris' throat. And Chris, oh god, wonderful, glorious Chris, bless him, was swallowing every drop, hard.
Finally sitting up, Chris caught Zach's appreciative and slightly crazed eyes. Chris ran the back of his hand across his face to catch any errant drips, and finding one, Chris stuck his hand in his mouth and exaggeratedly licked it clean, grinning the whole time.
"Better than burritos," Zach gasped. His statement was somewhat nonsensical, but Chris understood.
"Let's go back to my place," said Chris, his grin now twisting into a sly smirk.
"Okay," said Zach breathlessly, "but can we get some Cinnamon Twists first?"
Rating: M
Pairing: Zachary Quinto/Chris Pine
Warnings: RPF, sex, drug use, language
Word Count: 2678
Summary: Zach can't help but giggle at Chris' enormous burrito.
Just so you guys know, this monstrosity came from dee's icon and a request by nuclearsugars.
"Okay, okay, okay, okay. Okay. Okay. So I'mma need two bean and rice burritos, Fresco style, and a large Baja Blast," Zach leaned over Chris and giggled at the intercom. Even though it was two in the morning, Zach's favorite Ray-Bans bobbed on the end of his nose.
"And three steak Grilled Stuffed Burritos. And a Mexican Pizza, and a Pepsi," added Chris, who was slightly more composed. The tinny voice on the other side of the speaker said something that sounded like numbers, or purple, and suggested that they move to the next window. Zach giggled.
Chris pulled out his wallet and moved the car forward, where a grouchy looking older woman was peering down into their vehicle from the window. She repeated the total, and Chris handed her his debit card, not wanting to bother with something as complicated as cash.
"Do you need any sauce?"
Chris began to decline, but he was abruptly cut short by his friend.
"Oh my god, do you have that new green sauce?" Zach was leaning so far over toward the driver's window that he was practically in Chris's lap. "Because I love that stuff. I mean, I put it on eeeevvverryything. Do you have any?" His eyes were as wide as saucers and his hushed tone could only be described as conspiratorial.
"Yes... sir..." the worker said suspiciously and shoved a handful into their bag. "You two have a good night," she said as she handed Chris the warm plastic bag and the absolutely unnecessarily large sodas. Chris handed Zach the bag of food so he could attempt to finagle the sodas into the too-small cup holders.
"I am so so so so so excited about this burrito," Zach gushed as they pulled away. "Dude, fuck man, what did you even get?" he asked as he pulled Chris's enormous burritos from the bag. Chris, realizing that driving and eating at the same time was far beyond his mental capabilities at the moment, pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot.
"It's a Grilled Stuffed Burrito. It's got like, steak, and like, rice, and like, beans I think, and like, cheese and stuff, and like, I dunno, tomatoes or some shit..."
"But you got three of them! They're huge!"
"Yeah, I was really hungry, I dunno." Chris shrugged. "Hand me one."
Zach tried to suppress a laugh as he passed the burrito toward Chris.
"What, man? You laughing at my burrito, Zach?"
Holding up his own burrito, which was barely half the size, Zach exploded in giggles. "It's like, yours is big, and like, mine is so much, like, you know, littler."
"Yeah." Chris tore the top of the wrapping off his burrito and shoved a mouthful in his face. He looked at Zach confusedly as he ate.
"So like, yours," he tried to catch his breath, "...is bigger than mine... and like, you're eating it, with your mouth, and... oh my god." Zach tried to find his train of thought, but he was rapidly derailed when Chris looked over at him, a smear of sour cream across his cheek.
"Dude, Zach, what the fuck?" Chris asked.
"Chris... to... pher..." Zach choked between laughs, "your face, it's like, oh my god, can you just look?"
Chris flipped down his visor and peered in the mirror. When Chris spotted the sour cream, he rubbed it off with the back of his free hand. "Just sour cream, man," he said as he stuck his hand in his mouth to clean off the offending substance.
"And you just!!" Zach was completely beside himself. "Oh my god! You licked it! Do you even?"
"Huh?" Chris was completely oblivious as he continued to devour the burrito. He reached down to take a drink from his soda, completely missing the fact that the one he grabbed had a slight blue color visible through the translucent lid. "What the fuck is this shit?" he spewed, not even bothering to try to swallow. "It tastes like, I dunno, Smurf piss or some shit!"
Zach grabbed the drink from Chris' hand defensively. "Okay, it's Baja Blast. You know, it's like, a blast. From the Baja. It means like, the short, or something... so it's like Mountain Dew, but like maybe it's a really short Mountain, so, it's blue, because, it's not yellow yet. Because that's from tall mountains." Zach nodded, feeling as if he had sufficiently defended his beverage, and took a long drink.
"Oh, okay. Yeah." Chris agreed. He took another bite and once again, sour cream was all over his face. The burrito began to collapse in Chris' hand, so he tried to eat it even faster.
"Oh my god, Chris, I wish I could like, make a movie of you eating that burrito, so I could watch it every day. I would watch it like, three times a day. Or eight," said Zach, who was still neglecting his food.
"What are you even talking about, Quinto?" Chris asked. "You're like, totally not making any sense at all."
"You are so dumb. So like, you had the burrito, and it was bigger than mine, right?"
"Uh-huh..."
"See so I was jealous, because I was like, oh my god, yours is bigger, I'm jealous."
"Uh-huh."
"But then you were eating the burrito, and I was like, oh my god, seriously, you're eating the big burrito, you know? And then there was sour cream and it was like, all over your face, right?"
"Uh...huh?"
"Right." Zach nodded.
"What? I'm missing something."
"God, Christopher. It's like the burrito is a penis." Zach decided he would let that sink in for a minute and unwrapped his own, significantly smaller, burrito. He was just taking a bite when Chris spoke back up.
"Dude, you're watching me eat a burrito, and you're thinking it's like a penis. You're so fucking gay."
It was Zach's turn to mumble "Uh-huh," with a mouth full of beans and rice. Zach fished out a package of green sauce and squirted it liberally across the top of his burrito. "Whaddayaexpectmetathink?" He said as he took another bite. He swallowed and continued, "It's like you're eating that thing, and you're like, if a whore didn't have any cock, and then had some. You know."
"Gimme another one, man?" Chris asked, and Zach obliged with a giddy grin. As he wrapped his lips around the top of his second burrito, Chris tried his best to ignore what was running through Zach's mind. Zach was slurping happily on his noxious teal soda when Chris stopped chewing, a thought on his mind. Forgetting his tongue was currently occupied with steak, he stumbled over his words. "Icoulddohelluvalotbetterpenis."
Zach stopped slurping and looked over. "What was that, Chris?"
Chris swallowed and repeated, "I could do a hell of a lot better with a penis." Zach nudged his sunglasses further down on his nose and peered at Chris. "I mean, I'm just saying, it's not like... penises are made of steak, so you wouldn't like, I dunno, chew one?" Chris began to backtrack. "I mean, you know? So like, the biting, that would be bad... yeah... yeah." He crossed his legs, ankle to opposite knee, and slid down in his seat.
"You're a faggot," said Zach flatly.
"Dude, you can't just like, tell people they're faggots, man."
"I just did. You're all like, talking about giving blow jobs to burritos, or something. Fag."
"Hey hey hey! Hey! You were the one who was all like, 'oh my god Chris, it's like the burrito is a penis' and now I'm the fag?"
"Uh-huh." Zach nodded. "Pretty much, man." He broke into a grin, and Chris realized he had been kidding.
"Fuck man, you can't just like, do that shit. I don't even know."
"Yeah," said Zach, returning his attention to his oversized straw, which he had chewed completely flat on top. After a moment, he turned to look at Chris. "Didja wanna smoke some more?"
"Hell yeah, I thought you'd never ask." Chris beamed.
Zach fished around in the pocket of his purple hoodie and pulled out a small glass pipe. "Packed it earlier, you can hit greens," he said as he passed the pipe toward Chris. He dug a purple Bic lighter from his pocket and handed that to his friend, as well.
"Here?" asked Chris, looking around for anyone with anything that resembled a camera, but the parking lot was practically deserted.
"Of course, Princess, it's the middle of the night on a Wednesday. Who's gonna see us?"
"You know what? You're right, I don't give a fuck," Chris said as he flicked the lighter on, brought it to the end of the pipe, and inhaled deeply. He coughed a bit and the small car filled with smoke. Chris passed the pipe and lighter to his friend and slid further down in his seat.
"I don't think..." Zach paused, took a hit, and exhaled, "...you woud do better," he concluded.
"Huh?"
"The blow job, burrito, whatever, man." Zach handed Chris the pipe again.
"Oh, word." Chris filled his lungs with smoke and turned to look at Zach. "Wait, you don't think I could do better?"
"Naw man, you're straight, you know." Zach waved his hand in the air, either to clear the smoke, or to punctuate his sentence, or both.
"Oh you don't know." Chris took another hit before he passed Zach his pipe. "I think I killed it."
Zach tapped the bowl on his palm a few times to expel the ash before peering down into it. "Yeah, dead. Damn, man. That was all I brought."
"I'll make it up to you."
"Yeah, whatever, Chris. You always do smoke all my stuff, I don't care."
"No, Zach, I'll make it up to you." Chris reached across the center console and placed his hand on Zach's knee.
"Want your third burrito?" Zach asked.
"Ah... you could say that, I guess."
Zach blinked, not understanding. "Mexican Pizza?" Chris just shook his head as he ran his hand up Zach's leg. He grabbed the bag of food from Zach's lap and dropped it in the floor at his feet.
"I want to show you I can do better." Chris' hand was now easing over the curve of Zach's thigh, into his lap, where Zach was already somewhat hard from the thoughts that the sour cream incident had triggered.
Zach, suddenly understanding, shook his head rapidly. "What? What are you doing?"
"Middle of the night on a Wednesday, man, who's gonna see us?" Chris grinned as he unbuckled his seat belt and leaned toward Zach, reaching for Zach's sunglasses and ultimately discarding them beside the burritos. Unable to argue with his own logic, Zach shrugged and hesitantly decided to go along for the ride.
Chris tentatively ran his hand across Zach's crotch, feeling his length through the tight jeans. Zach squirmed in his seat a little, his cock hardening at Chris' touch. Chris slowly, excruciatingly, reached for the button on Zach's jeans and popped it free. He was equally as slow with the zipper, and Zach mentally cussed as he watched the individual teeth of his zipper open one by one. Then Chris was reaching down into Zach's black boxers, wrapping his hand around Zach's throbbing cock, and Zach's heart was thudding through his chest and he could not bear to look anymore. Zach tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He felt his cock suddenly pulled free of his jeans and he gasped as it hit the cool air, so drastically different than the warm bag of Mexican food that he had been using to hide his erection.
"Oh my god, Chris," the words escaped Zach's lips like a sigh as Chris slid his hand up and down Zach's shaft. It had happened so suddenly that his thoughts were unable to keep up with the actions that were currently unfolding. Now Chris' head was in Zach's lap, Chris' hand was still tightly wrapped around Zach's shaft as his mouth hovered only inches away from the head, Chris was so close that Zach could feel his breath upon him. Zach gasped hard as Chris suddenly, impulsively, wrapped his lips around Zach's aching cock. Where had this come from? Something about burritos? How did this happen? Zach couldn't even remember anymore but he was reciting thank you Chris, thank you pot, thank you Taco Bell, over and over again in his foggy mind.
Chris' hesitance, his inexperience, his drugged state, none of it mattered, because Zach had been dreaming of this moment for so fucking long that there was no way it could be anything other than amazing. Zach felt Chris run his tongue down Zach's length slowly, burying his face in Zach's jeans and running his tongue back and forth along the sensitive spot near the base. And now, Chris was reaching his free hand into Zach's boxers again, cupping every bit of Zach between his hands and returning his mouth to the tip. Chris traced circles around the head of Zach's cock, his tongue making slow, languid strokes around the edge. Zach moaned and arched his back, mentally begging for Christopher to devour him. He ran his fingers through Chris' sandy hair, trying, but failing, not to put pressure on the back of Chris' head.
Taking the hint, Chris enveloped Zach with his mouth, taking as much of Zach in as he possibly could. Zach's hips bucked forward, and Chris grinned at this response as much as is possible with a mouthful of cock. He rotated his hand as he began to slide his lips up and down along Zach's cock, a moan escaping Chris' own lips as he ventured a look up at Zach. His head thrown back in ecstasy, one hand knitted through his own hair, the other hand resting on Chris' neck, the man looked absolutely gorgeous. Zach's eyes were wrenched shut in concentration and delight and Chris knew he must be doing something correctly.
Chris allowed Zach's hand to guide his pace, and when Zach began to increase the pressure, Chris quickened his motion. The hand that was buried in Zach's pants now ventured south, searching for the right place under Zach's balls. A tensing of Zach's muscles made Chris sure that he had found what he was looking for. Chris applied pressure with his knuckle, and Zach yelped in delight. Spots were now swimming before Zach's eyes as he stared intently at the tan celling of the vehicle. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, he thought. He was so close, if only Chris would... and then, as if Chris was reading his mind, he slurped all of Zach into his mouth. Chris sucked hard, hungrily, desperately, spit escaping his lips and running down over his hands. Chris moaned again and bobbed his head furiously, knowing Zach was close, feeling how hard Zach was pulsing against his tongue. With a hard breath, Zach snapped his head down. He had been holding his breath, barely able to form a thought in his mind, but he knew he had to watch because god, he had no idea when he would get this lucky again. The sight of Chris absolutely relishing in his cock was enough to send Zach over the edge. Blindingly, searingly, achingly, so hard and fast that Zach didn't even have the chance to shout, Zach exploded down Chris' throat. And Chris, oh god, wonderful, glorious Chris, bless him, was swallowing every drop, hard.
Finally sitting up, Chris caught Zach's appreciative and slightly crazed eyes. Chris ran the back of his hand across his face to catch any errant drips, and finding one, Chris stuck his hand in his mouth and exaggeratedly licked it clean, grinning the whole time.
"Better than burritos," Zach gasped. His statement was somewhat nonsensical, but Chris understood.
"Let's go back to my place," said Chris, his grin now twisting into a sly smirk.
"Okay," said Zach breathlessly, "but can we get some Cinnamon Twists first?"