Fic for j_corrosion
Author’s/Artist’s name:Karmic_fic
Written/Drawn for:”j_corrosion”
Pairing/Characters: John Cho/ Chris Pine
Rating: PG 13
Prompt:Devious John is devious, though very cute
Warnings: Fade to black/Implied sex. Also, this is my first time writing this pairing so I hope it doesn’t disappoint!
Disclaimer:I do not know these people, this did not happen. All fun; no profit.
de-vi-ous (adjective)
1. Showing a skillful use of underhanded tactics to achieve goals.
2. (of a route or journey) Longer and less direct than the most straightforward way.
a-dor-a-ble (adjective)
1. very attractive or delightful; charming
2. worthy of worship
Machiavelli’s guide to relationships (or how the Choverlord bagged his man in three simple steps)
It had taken several years and more than a few suspect practices (trailing along on trips to DC to make sure his competition -in the minds of millions of movie goers anyway- stayed competition purely in the realm of fangirl’s imaginations came to mind) but he had finally managed to land the perfect guy. The ever elusive, ridiculously photogenic, deliciously dorky Chris Pine. Now all he has to do is keep him. Nodding to himself in steely determination, John Cho reached out to grab three or four copies of the magazine that had never yet steered him wrong.
Now, you may think it strange for a successful actor in his late thirties to be a devoted ‘Cosmopolitan’ (lord knows cashiers had given him enough strange looks over the years) but those desperate teenage years of struggling to fit in with white mainstream die hard, and besides, it’s not like he doesn’t have living proof of the validity of those handy ten-step tips stretched out across his bed three nights a week.
Addiction rationalized and glossy issues of Cosmo tucked safely under his arm, he headed home to begin outlining his plan of attack.
Be domestic, surprise him with breakfast (wearing his clothes):
John stood in front of his stove in nothing but a pair of tight black boxers, Chris’s too large button down from last night and socks (okay so he knew that rocking the ‘sock gap’ wasn’t exactly the sexiest thing on the planet but the kitchen tiles in his house are cold in the morning alright?) happily frying up some bacon and eggs.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, morning stubble tickled his shoulder and Chris’s gravely morning voice rumbled against the side of his neck. ‘Just add a pair of shades and you’d be a dead ringer for Tom Cruise.’
An elbow to the ribcage as John neatly spun around in his arms was enough to have Chris giggling as John pushed him back against the island. ‘Just don’t expect me to go jumping up and down on any one’s talk show furniture’ John said with a sly smile as he tilted his chin for a morning kiss before shoving Chris off in the direction of a bar stool and his morning crossword.
He decided to let Chris get half way through his breakfast and morning coffee before breaking out the big guns, after all, he wanted his man wide awake for the show. Surreptitiously checking to make sure the blinds are drawn, John reached behind him for a banana from the fruit bowl. He waited until Chris twisted his head up in contemplation of a particularly difficult clue before catching his eye and beginning to carefully peal away the skin of the fruit in slow, deliberate sections.
He felt a little thrill shoot up the base of his spine at the way Chris’s eyes latched on to the meticulous movements of his fingers. Chris licked his lips in sympathetic reaction to John wetting his own. Carefully, John placed just the tip of the fruit in his mouth. 30 seconds of mouthing the tip, rolling it around his tongue before slowly pushing it back and back until it fills his mouth and Chris’s pupils are blown. Making sure to keep eye contact the whole time, John deliberately bit down as sensually as possible, closing his eyes in bliss.
The sound of wood scrapping against tile and suddenly Chris was kneeling in front of him, hands working their way from John’s knees to the waistband of his boxers. ‘God the things you do to me, suddenly I’m hungry for something else for breakfast.’ It’s not exactly what John had planned, but there’s no way he was going to say no to an offer like that.
With a groan, the second half of the banana fell to the countertop unnoticed, John’s hands suddenly itching to thread through Chris’s stubbled hair. Chris’s hands stroked under the borrowed shirt, working their way around to grip his ass and John lifted himself slightly off the bar stool to allow Chris better access. Once his shorts were pulled down far enough, Chris wasted no time getting down to business. John had to stifle a shout and wrap both ankles around the lower rungs of the chair -half for leverage and half to keep himself from sliding off- as Chris did his best to destroy all higher brain functions.
It was over embarrassingly quickly, but Chris smiled like the cat that caught the canary and so John couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he cupped one hand behind Chris’s neck and pulled him up for a searing kiss. Their lips interlocked perfectly as John coaxed Chris’s tongue into his mouth, tangling them together heatedly, searching out every last drop of his own taste and that elusive underlying hint that’s just Chris.
He cradled Chris between his thighs, pulling him in close as he sought to deepen the kiss- if such a thing were even possible. He was just reaching up to grasp Chris ‘in hand’ as it were when Chris started to pull back, the ministrations of his tongue slowing and then finally stopping as he disengaged, making a strange sound in the back of his throat.
John opened his eyes, trying to concentrate through his blissed-out haze. Chris was running his tongue around his teeth with a confused expression on his face.
‘Should my gums be numb?’ He asked sheepishly, pursing his lips together repeatedly in something vaguely resembling a six year old’s ‘kissy face’.
John was still trying to get a handle on what his name is when the coughing starts, not the type of cough you get when you’re coming down with something but that strange sort of a ‘whoof’ sound that you make when there’s something tickling your airways. Chris’s eyes started to water and John realized that they might actually have a situation on their hands. He pushed a red-faced slightly wheezing Chris into a chair and went to grab his keys and some pants for the both of them.
********************
Three hours and one visit to the ‘minute-clinic’ down the road later, and John wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Tapping his hands against the steering wheel, he tried to summon up what he hoped was a reassuring expression for the muppet-faced guy in his passenger seat.
‘Sooo… How exactly does one make it to the age of thirty without knowing that they’re allergic to bananas?’
Show him how fun you can be:
John flipped through last months issue, desperately looking through the glossy photos for any outfit ideas that did NOT involve skinny jeans. Sadly, it looked like he’d have to go shopping before he could implement the next portion of his plan.
Six stores and a grateful prayer to the gods that he doesn’t rate nearly the pap-stalking attention of his boo later, mission ‘flirt’ was a Go.
On his way out the door, John paused in front of his full length mirror and leaned in close to give his eyeliner one last touch-up before twisting his body for a look at what he considered his best ‘asset’. Satisfied that his butt looked amazing and that he could pull off skinny jeans better than any hipster-wannabes-with-flat-asses-and-no-thighs that shall remain nameless. John snagged his car-keys and went to go drop the jaw of his blue-eyed boy.
Arriving at his destination, John slid his key into the lock, barely managing to suppress the little happy dance that always accompanied the realization that he had a key to Chris’s house.
Chris looked up from the couch at the sound of John’s footsteps, eyebrows raised above the thick frames of his glasses as he took in his unexpectedly stylish appearance. John had about three seconds to revel in the obviously surprised lust in Chris’s eyes before the look on his boyfriend’s face morphed into a scowl stuck somewhere between ‘caveman’ and ‘but, but my crossword!’.
‘Going somewhere?’ it seemed as if the ‘caveman’ part of Chris’s brain won out before the ‘absentminded professor’ portion reared its head, ‘Oh, shit! Did I forget we had plans? I did didn’t I? Wait, you’re pretty dressed up, I didn’t forget something bigger than dinner did I?’
Chris was starting to look a little panicked so John took pity on him. ‘Relax, No we didn’t have plans, but yes WE are going out, you don’t think I’d put on eyeliner for anyone else do you?’
‘Eyeliner Hmmmm?’ Chris made a grab for John’s wrists and neatly pulled him down on top of him on the couch, ‘Sure I can’t convince you stay in?’
John allowed himself to be maneuvered into a kiss but then pressed lightly against Chris’s chest to break it off, ‘You could, but then you’d miss out on all the dirty things I have planned for later.’ John leaned back slightly, angling his hips just right to get his meaning across, ‘Zoe told me about this hot new club opening up, we’re going to get the gang together and go check it out.’ John ground down a bit, trapping the hands Chris had brought up to grab his hips. ‘I know you’re not big into the scene, but can’t you imagine: all those hot bodies writhing on the dance floor?’ Using Chris’s hands for leverage he gave a little demonstration of exactly what kind of writhing he was talking about.
Chris let out a frustrated little mewl, pressing upwards, seeking contact. John figured he had him right where he wanted him so he leaned down to whisper the killing blow. ‘Come out with me for just a few hours and I promise to make it worth your while, you know how I get after a couple shots, I promise good things come to boys who wait.’
Chris closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the back of the couch and John knew he had won. Gracefully disengaging himself from his boyfriends seeking grasp, he headed down the hall towards the bedroom, calling over his shoulder: ‘I’ll just get the shower running for you. I’m going to lay out that blue shirt, you know the one?’
John allowed himself a smirk before leaning his head back out into the hall, ‘And no touching yourself, I want you primed and ready for when we get back!’
The growl he got in reply sent pleasant tingles up and down his tightly encased thighs. Yes indeed, everything was going right according to plan.
***************
Four hours later, John was forced to reevaluate the situation. Somehow it had all gotten completely out of hand.
As he lay in the bed, listening to the sounds of Chris in the bathroom cleaning up the residue of what he’s pretty sure was the contents of his stomach from the last month, he tried to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong.
He’d done everything he was supposed to:
Dress up just for him (and make sure he knows it) -CHECK
Get him into a state of anticipation - CHECK
Show him how desirable you are (but always come back to him) -CHECK
Seduce him with little touches (but always leave him wanting more) -CHECK
Make sure he gets his boy-time -CHECK
Get involved in a drinking bet with his best friends -CHECK
Wait…… actually he was pretty sure that last one wasn’t on Cosmo’s list of ‘5 tips for the perfect night out’.
Dammit, John knew he shouldn’t have taken that bet from Simon and Karl but they’d been so convincing, and Chris had just excused himself to take a phone call -undoubtedly from New York- and he just hadn’t been able to resist showing off.
It had worked too, body shots have a way of grabbing people’s attention and if the make-out session on the cab ride home had been anything to go by things had been heading exactly where he had wanted them to.
Then the tequila had decided to reintroduce itself.
GOD, at least he’d made it to the bathroom.
John was just settling in to a nice round of self- flagellation when he felt the light shut off, and a gentle hand replaced the forearm draped across his eyes with a cool washcloth.
‘Sorry, sorry, oh my GOD I am so sorry,’ even the sound of his own voice, harsh from retching, made John want to wince.
‘Hey now, none of that.’ Chris’s voice was soothing, ‘I actually had a great time right up until the end, and you know how rare that is for me in crowds. And I tell you what, the image that’s going to stick with me is you spread out across the bar with your shirt riding up, legs spread in those tight jeans- that we need to get off of you now somehow- not the actually rather charming view of you bent over the toilet.’
‘Thanks for that, I think’ John said in an attempt to distract himself from the jostling required to get him out of said jeans. ‘You really aren’t mad?’ He couldn’t help but ask.
‘What could I possibly be mad about?’
John had to peak out from beneath the washcloth to gauge the look on Chris’s face. What he saw was a mixture of amusement and fondness, no trace of the frustration he’d expected. John felt an awkward little jolt of worry, and even though he wanted to kick himself for looking a gift horse of magnanimity in the mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking maybe he hadn’t been as successful as he’d thought.
‘You aren’t upset that, you know, ‘ -oh fuck eloquence- ‘I’m not exactly in a position to deliver on my promises from earlier.’
Chris actually laughed the bastard, but then he started stripping down, and John thought that just maybe he might be able to forgive him. ‘Oh babe, you’re going to deliver alright, but it doesn’t have to be right now, you didn’t think you were going to get out of it that easily did you?’ Chris asked with a grin before taking back the washcloth and helping John slip out of the tank he’d been wearing beneath his shirt.
‘Hmmmm, guess you caught on to my master plan’ John gave a theatrical sigh, ‘Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to take care of you later.’
‘Now that’s more like it.’ Chris slipped into bed beside him, gently pushing John onto his side so he could spoon up against his back. ‘This alright?’ Chris whispered as he slipped an arm around John’s middle, the words were said softly and directed towards his shoulder blade in deference to John’s likely tender head.
‘Yeah’ John managed to mumble just before drifting off, ‘This is just fine.’
***********************
When he finally does wake up the next morning, alone in bed but with the smell of sausage coming from the kitchen and a glass of his favorite hangover cure on the bedside table, John is more determined than ever that he’s going to get this right. He can’t imagine ever letting a man like his get away.
Do the things he likes to do:
John and Chris lay half cocooned beneath a layer of blankets enjoying that rare occurrence: the shared weekend off. Reruns of Sharkweek played in the background, but neither of them was really paying much attention, choosing instead to half-heartedly sort through scripts, catch-up on reading and just take the time to just bask in each other’s presence.
But, one can only take so much of that level of sloth before restlessness sets in, and so John wasn’t surprised when his very active boyfriend started to shift more frequently, able to focus less and less on whichever distraction had caught his eye at the moment.
‘All right,’ John said, ‘I think we’ve both had enough pajama time for one Saturday. Why don’t we get up and go do something with the rest of the day.’
Chris gave him a slightly skeptical look obviously remembering the last time they’d gone out, ‘What exactly did you have in mind?’
‘’What?’ John said in response to the look on Chris’s face. Chris just stared right back at him. ‘Hey now! I thought we were past that.’ Chris raised one eyebrow. ‘Okay fine, how about this time you pick where we go. We can do anything you want.’
‘What if I want to stay in?’ Chris said with a hint of challenge.
‘Oh come on! You’ve been twitching for the last hour, not even your crossword has been able to keep you still. We need to get out of here before we melt into the mattress.’ Chris slumped down further under the covers in defiance, face set in a theatrical pout but John knew it was all for show, Chris just hated having to be the one to make plans.
‘How about we take a walk down to Fifth?’ John offered, ‘I know you’ve been dying to try out the new boxing center that just opened.’
‘You want to come boxing with me?’ Chris’s expression shifted to one of actual confusion, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Hey now, I could totally take you!’ John rolled on top of Chris, pining his wrists in demonstration.’
‘MMMhmmmm. You can take me,’ Chris said from underneath him, ‘that’s an offer.’
‘Oh you did not just say that,’ John said, trying (and failing) to keep his face serious. ‘You do know that I am NEVER calling you Kirk in bed right?’ Although, the thought did occur to him that that should probably be his next plan of attack: spice things up in the bedroom.
Chris heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘Well if that’s off the table then I guess we had better get going, I have no idea when the new place closes but I doubt they’re open past seven on a Saturday.’ He squirmed quickly out from under John and John let him go after claiming a quick kiss, hiding his smug expression in the pillow that still smells of Chris.
**********************
‘What? No! I totally wasn’t dissing your skills.’ Chris assured John as they walk through the doors of the boxing center. Maybe it was the laughter in Chris’s voice but John didn’t quite believe him. ‘Really babe! I remember training for the last movie, you could totally take me with that whole Samurai Kung-fu thing you have going on.’
‘That would be Taekwondo you uncultured ass.’ John rolled his eyes and smacked Chris upside the head. Chris held up his hands in mock-surrender and John mimed the ‘slit your throat’ gesture before they both burst out laughing.
Eventually they calmed down enough to take in their surroundings and John had to admit to being pretty impressed. For some reason he’d pictured dim lighting, sawdust and exposed pipes in the ceiling. Instead, the place was well lit and clean with mirrors covering most of the walls, giving the already large space the appearance of being positively huge.
Chris staked out a mat and started warming up and John was content to settle down for a few stretches somewhere with a good view and drool. Chris did a few stretches with him and then sidled up to one of those suspended punching bags. Soon enough there was a fine sheen of sweat on his skin and John watched in glee as he paused for a moment to whip his tee-shirt off.
John will always claim understandable distraction due to half naked and sweaty Chris Pine for what happens next.
Apparently, one of the regulars had overheard John and Chris’s exchange when they first entered the gym and decided that a match with a martial artist might be a fun challenge. By the time the guy’s presence finally filtered through John’s fantasy addled brain, it seems he’d already agreed to go a few rounds with the guy in the ring.
John thought about protesting, he’s never been much of a fighter on his own time, but the guy must have noticed the reason for his distraction because he made a snide comment about pretty boys and their toys and even though it was said good naturedly, after Chris’s comments that morning John couldn’t just let that stand.
Chris helped him wrap up his hands and once he realized John was serious about this, gave him a few tips.
Of course John got his ass handed to him.
It wasn’t that bad though, he was much faster than his opponent and all of that fight choreography must have somewhat sunk in because he actually managed to land a few hits of his own. Chris tried to get him to stop after the first round, but John wanted to make a good impression and besides, he was actually starting to understand what Chris sees in this whole boxing thing. There’s an exhilaration to it, something basic and primal in the connection of (padded) fist to flesh. All told, he made it through three rounds before calling a halt and sharing a fist-bump-man-hug with his opponent.
Chris helped him take off his gloves with eyes full of banked heat and John surfed the endorphin high from the fight all the way back to his place.
Chris must have found the fight stimulating too because they barely made it inside the door before Chris was on him all lips and tongue and teeth. John hitched one leg around Chris’s waist and grappled him in closer grinding against the hardness that equaled his own. Chris braced him against the wall, one hand griping John’s ass while the other worked its way under his shirt. And that’s about when the adrenaline rush wore off.
‘Ow HNNG’ John hissed, pulling his mouth away from Chris’s in an attempt to catch his breath. Chris stilled.
‘That’s not a happy noise.’
‘No, no it’s fine, I’m fine, come back here.’ John tried to drag Chris’s mouth back to his own but Chris leaned back, letting John’s leg fall and bringing his other hand around to help lift John’s shirt up to his chin.
‘Babe what the hell?’ Chris said, his voice concerned. John looked down and saw the bruises starting to form on his chest and sides. Huh, why is it that bruises never hurt until you see them? ‘Oh, Ow.’
Chris just shook his head, gently lowering John’s shirt to re-conceal the bruises. ‘Come on you, let’s get you taken care of.’ Chris led him into the bedroom where he carefully undressed him. First he eased his shirt over shoulders that were just starting to stiffen up then he gently pushed John down onto the bed. ‘Stay right there.’ He said before rummaging around in the bathroom for the first aid kit.
When he came back he made sure to kiss each one of John’s bruises before covering them with a medicated cream and lightly wrapping his torso with an ace bandage.
‘How come you always seem to be taking care of me?’ John asked that night after some of the most careful sex John has ever experienced.
‘It’s my job isn’t it?’ Chris responded and John smiled into their goodnight kiss.
*************
A couple of days later, John sat on the couch, taking advantage of the fact that his ribs were finally healed and pouring over his Cosmos looking for The Big One. The idea that would be sure to snare Chris for good. He had just found a likely candidate in the article entitled ‘Get him away for a while, five secret tips to the perfect romantic vacation’ when he heard Chris’s footsteps in the hall.
In a panic, he desperately tried to stuff the magazines underneath the cushion behind him and compose himself before Chris walked in. He had just managed to arrange his limbs into some semblance of nonchalance when he looked up to find Chris paused in the doorway with a strange expression on his face. For a moment, John feared that he hadn’t made it in time, but then Chris’s expression smoothed out into a grin and John allowed himself to breath again.
It’s too bad that he was so overwhelmed with relief that he failed to notice the almost feral glint in Chris’s eyes as he sauntered -one might even say stalked- towards him.
Chris wasn’t content to just bend down for a hello kiss. Instead he climbed up to join John on the couch, settled himself between John’s knees, stretched himself out on top of his boyfriend and proceeded to kiss the daylights out of him.
John was far too dazed by the experience to realize the implications of the crinkling he’d vaguely heard until Chris had his prize in hand.
‘And what have we here?’ Chris sat back, magazine in hand a look of triumph on his face. ‘Something Kinky maybe?’ John stared in horror, wracking his brain for some explanation.
‘It’s not what you think.’
‘Uhhm, no, apparently not.’ Chris said with some confusion as he took in the bright colors and fully clothed cover model of the Cosmo. His brow furrowed even more as Chris started to flip through the magazine, taking in the scribbles and annotations John had made detailing his plans in the margins.
John watched, mouth dry and heart in his throat as Chris finally looked up from the magazine, face set in somber lines.
This is it, John thought, this is the end.
Then, all of a sudden Chris was laughing. At first all John could feel was relief but then as Chris’s laughter showed no signs of abating, embarrassment and anger started to take over.
Chris must have seen some of that on his face, even through his laughter-induced tears because he quickly moved to prevent John from getting up in a huff.
‘No, no, wait.’ Chris said, finally getting a handle on his reaction. ‘I was just surprised that’s all.’
John paused in his struggle to get out from under Chris and then off the couch (maybe so far as Abu Dhabi if he could manage it). ‘So… you’re not making fun of me and my choice of literature?’ Chris shook his head firmly. ‘And you’re not upset at me for trying to -‘ John wasn’t sure exactly how to describe what he had been trying to do and so he settled for a couple of vague hand gestures. Chris must have understood anyway because he shook his head again and placed a quick kiss on John’s lips.
‘If I let you up are you still going to try to run away?’ Chris asked, ‘Because I’ve got something to show you that I think you’ll like, but it would probably be easier with my hands free.’
John must have spent too long contemplating his options because Chris dropped his forehead down to the junction of John’s neck and shoulder, let out a huff that he would later swear was NOT a laugh and said, ‘Fine, have it your way, I’m going to let your hands go and you can get what I want to show you. It’s tucked into the back waist band of my jeans, under my shirt.’
John let his hands wander down, taking his time -who knew if he’d get the chance again after this- before pulling out the strangely familiar object. Chris was still using his weight to pin him down and so it took some awkward maneuvering to get the object up above Chris’s shoulder to take a look.
‘Chris, why exactly did you have a copy of Men’s Health magazine tucked into your waistband?’
‘Him ny surmimble gui’ Chris’s voice was muffled as he hadn’t yet lifted his face out of John’s neck.
‘What was that?’ John felt a rush of heat against his neck and realized that Chris must be blushing.
‘It’s my survival guide.’ Chris lifted his head up enough to be audible but not enough to risk making eye contact.
‘Your survival guide to what?’ John allowed himself to hope; maybe this wasn’t the end after all.
‘You. This. Us.’ John tossed the magazine behind the couch and used both hands to coax Chris up to look at him.
‘Why would you need a survival guide for our relationship?’
‘Same reason I’m hoping you constructed all of those elaborate little diagrams in your Cosmo. I want this to work, I want this -us- to last.’ Chris looked so insecure and hopeful that John felt like his heart might burst. ‘I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t want you to get away,’ Chris admitted softly.
‘I didn’t want to let you to get away either,’ John reassured him, shifting his weight around so that they were holding each other rather than smooshing and getting smooshed. ‘I guess we were both idiots: relying on magazines when we could have just been talking to each other,’
‘You’re probably right,’ Chris agreed before grinning a little evilly, ‘but you have to admit, it was kind of fun.’
‘Fun?’ John asked in mock outrage. ‘You call allergic reactions, alcohol poisoning and me getting pummeled by a six-foot gorilla fun?’
‘Well sure,’ Chris said sheepishly but with an unmistakable look of adoration on his face, ‘I mean, we were together right? It’s always more fun when you’re around.’
‘Oh my god, you’re killing me with the sap Pine.’ John said than quickly placed his hand over Chris’s mouth. ‘And no, I don’t want to hear anything about Pines and ‘sap’ you licentious bastard.’
‘Licentious huh?’ Chris asked once John had moved his hand. ‘I’ll give you licentious.’
And he did.
************************
Later that night, lying in bed with his arms firmly wrapped around Chris, John finally thought to ask why he had happened to have the magazine on him that morning.
‘Well,’ Chris cleared his throat nervously, ‘I wanted to have it on hand for reference. You see, there was something I wanted to ask you that I didn’t get the chance to what with all the revelations and almost-make-up-sex.’
‘And you felt you needed your survival guide just to ask me a question?’ John asked intrigued.
‘Well, it is a pretty big one.’ John held his breath while Chris exhaled roughly. ‘Will you move in with me?’
‘Move in with you?’ John tried to find the balance between ecstatic and practical. ‘But you don’t have a house.’
‘Yeah, I was hoping you might be willing to help me rectify that.’ Chris said. ‘According to Men’s Health it’s very important to get your partner’s opinion in matters like this.’ John felt a glow bloom in his chest at the word partner.
‘Well,’ John said, smile evident despite the darkness, ‘We wouldn’t want to go against the advice of Men’s Health magazine now would we.’
*******************
Several hours later (none of them spent sleeping thank you very much) John made himself a mental note to be sure to send a nice letter to the editor of Cosmo… and maybe one to Men’s Health too.
After all, they had never yet steered him wrong.
The End
Written/Drawn for:”j_corrosion”
Pairing/Characters: John Cho/ Chris Pine
Rating: PG 13
Prompt:Devious John is devious, though very cute
Warnings: Fade to black/Implied sex. Also, this is my first time writing this pairing so I hope it doesn’t disappoint!
Disclaimer:I do not know these people, this did not happen. All fun; no profit.
de-vi-ous (adjective)
1. Showing a skillful use of underhanded tactics to achieve goals.
2. (of a route or journey) Longer and less direct than the most straightforward way.
a-dor-a-ble (adjective)
1. very attractive or delightful; charming
2. worthy of worship
Machiavelli’s guide to relationships (or how the Choverlord bagged his man in three simple steps)
It had taken several years and more than a few suspect practices (trailing along on trips to DC to make sure his competition -in the minds of millions of movie goers anyway- stayed competition purely in the realm of fangirl’s imaginations came to mind) but he had finally managed to land the perfect guy. The ever elusive, ridiculously photogenic, deliciously dorky Chris Pine. Now all he has to do is keep him. Nodding to himself in steely determination, John Cho reached out to grab three or four copies of the magazine that had never yet steered him wrong.
Now, you may think it strange for a successful actor in his late thirties to be a devoted ‘Cosmopolitan’ (lord knows cashiers had given him enough strange looks over the years) but those desperate teenage years of struggling to fit in with white mainstream die hard, and besides, it’s not like he doesn’t have living proof of the validity of those handy ten-step tips stretched out across his bed three nights a week.
Addiction rationalized and glossy issues of Cosmo tucked safely under his arm, he headed home to begin outlining his plan of attack.
Be domestic, surprise him with breakfast (wearing his clothes):
John stood in front of his stove in nothing but a pair of tight black boxers, Chris’s too large button down from last night and socks (okay so he knew that rocking the ‘sock gap’ wasn’t exactly the sexiest thing on the planet but the kitchen tiles in his house are cold in the morning alright?) happily frying up some bacon and eggs.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, morning stubble tickled his shoulder and Chris’s gravely morning voice rumbled against the side of his neck. ‘Just add a pair of shades and you’d be a dead ringer for Tom Cruise.’
An elbow to the ribcage as John neatly spun around in his arms was enough to have Chris giggling as John pushed him back against the island. ‘Just don’t expect me to go jumping up and down on any one’s talk show furniture’ John said with a sly smile as he tilted his chin for a morning kiss before shoving Chris off in the direction of a bar stool and his morning crossword.
He decided to let Chris get half way through his breakfast and morning coffee before breaking out the big guns, after all, he wanted his man wide awake for the show. Surreptitiously checking to make sure the blinds are drawn, John reached behind him for a banana from the fruit bowl. He waited until Chris twisted his head up in contemplation of a particularly difficult clue before catching his eye and beginning to carefully peal away the skin of the fruit in slow, deliberate sections.
He felt a little thrill shoot up the base of his spine at the way Chris’s eyes latched on to the meticulous movements of his fingers. Chris licked his lips in sympathetic reaction to John wetting his own. Carefully, John placed just the tip of the fruit in his mouth. 30 seconds of mouthing the tip, rolling it around his tongue before slowly pushing it back and back until it fills his mouth and Chris’s pupils are blown. Making sure to keep eye contact the whole time, John deliberately bit down as sensually as possible, closing his eyes in bliss.
The sound of wood scrapping against tile and suddenly Chris was kneeling in front of him, hands working their way from John’s knees to the waistband of his boxers. ‘God the things you do to me, suddenly I’m hungry for something else for breakfast.’ It’s not exactly what John had planned, but there’s no way he was going to say no to an offer like that.
With a groan, the second half of the banana fell to the countertop unnoticed, John’s hands suddenly itching to thread through Chris’s stubbled hair. Chris’s hands stroked under the borrowed shirt, working their way around to grip his ass and John lifted himself slightly off the bar stool to allow Chris better access. Once his shorts were pulled down far enough, Chris wasted no time getting down to business. John had to stifle a shout and wrap both ankles around the lower rungs of the chair -half for leverage and half to keep himself from sliding off- as Chris did his best to destroy all higher brain functions.
It was over embarrassingly quickly, but Chris smiled like the cat that caught the canary and so John couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he cupped one hand behind Chris’s neck and pulled him up for a searing kiss. Their lips interlocked perfectly as John coaxed Chris’s tongue into his mouth, tangling them together heatedly, searching out every last drop of his own taste and that elusive underlying hint that’s just Chris.
He cradled Chris between his thighs, pulling him in close as he sought to deepen the kiss- if such a thing were even possible. He was just reaching up to grasp Chris ‘in hand’ as it were when Chris started to pull back, the ministrations of his tongue slowing and then finally stopping as he disengaged, making a strange sound in the back of his throat.
John opened his eyes, trying to concentrate through his blissed-out haze. Chris was running his tongue around his teeth with a confused expression on his face.
‘Should my gums be numb?’ He asked sheepishly, pursing his lips together repeatedly in something vaguely resembling a six year old’s ‘kissy face’.
John was still trying to get a handle on what his name is when the coughing starts, not the type of cough you get when you’re coming down with something but that strange sort of a ‘whoof’ sound that you make when there’s something tickling your airways. Chris’s eyes started to water and John realized that they might actually have a situation on their hands. He pushed a red-faced slightly wheezing Chris into a chair and went to grab his keys and some pants for the both of them.
********************
Three hours and one visit to the ‘minute-clinic’ down the road later, and John wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Tapping his hands against the steering wheel, he tried to summon up what he hoped was a reassuring expression for the muppet-faced guy in his passenger seat.
‘Sooo… How exactly does one make it to the age of thirty without knowing that they’re allergic to bananas?’
Show him how fun you can be:
John flipped through last months issue, desperately looking through the glossy photos for any outfit ideas that did NOT involve skinny jeans. Sadly, it looked like he’d have to go shopping before he could implement the next portion of his plan.
Six stores and a grateful prayer to the gods that he doesn’t rate nearly the pap-stalking attention of his boo later, mission ‘flirt’ was a Go.
On his way out the door, John paused in front of his full length mirror and leaned in close to give his eyeliner one last touch-up before twisting his body for a look at what he considered his best ‘asset’. Satisfied that his butt looked amazing and that he could pull off skinny jeans better than any hipster-wannabes-with-flat-asses-and-no-thighs that shall remain nameless. John snagged his car-keys and went to go drop the jaw of his blue-eyed boy.
Arriving at his destination, John slid his key into the lock, barely managing to suppress the little happy dance that always accompanied the realization that he had a key to Chris’s house.
Chris looked up from the couch at the sound of John’s footsteps, eyebrows raised above the thick frames of his glasses as he took in his unexpectedly stylish appearance. John had about three seconds to revel in the obviously surprised lust in Chris’s eyes before the look on his boyfriend’s face morphed into a scowl stuck somewhere between ‘caveman’ and ‘but, but my crossword!’.
‘Going somewhere?’ it seemed as if the ‘caveman’ part of Chris’s brain won out before the ‘absentminded professor’ portion reared its head, ‘Oh, shit! Did I forget we had plans? I did didn’t I? Wait, you’re pretty dressed up, I didn’t forget something bigger than dinner did I?’
Chris was starting to look a little panicked so John took pity on him. ‘Relax, No we didn’t have plans, but yes WE are going out, you don’t think I’d put on eyeliner for anyone else do you?’
‘Eyeliner Hmmmm?’ Chris made a grab for John’s wrists and neatly pulled him down on top of him on the couch, ‘Sure I can’t convince you stay in?’
John allowed himself to be maneuvered into a kiss but then pressed lightly against Chris’s chest to break it off, ‘You could, but then you’d miss out on all the dirty things I have planned for later.’ John leaned back slightly, angling his hips just right to get his meaning across, ‘Zoe told me about this hot new club opening up, we’re going to get the gang together and go check it out.’ John ground down a bit, trapping the hands Chris had brought up to grab his hips. ‘I know you’re not big into the scene, but can’t you imagine: all those hot bodies writhing on the dance floor?’ Using Chris’s hands for leverage he gave a little demonstration of exactly what kind of writhing he was talking about.
Chris let out a frustrated little mewl, pressing upwards, seeking contact. John figured he had him right where he wanted him so he leaned down to whisper the killing blow. ‘Come out with me for just a few hours and I promise to make it worth your while, you know how I get after a couple shots, I promise good things come to boys who wait.’
Chris closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the back of the couch and John knew he had won. Gracefully disengaging himself from his boyfriends seeking grasp, he headed down the hall towards the bedroom, calling over his shoulder: ‘I’ll just get the shower running for you. I’m going to lay out that blue shirt, you know the one?’
John allowed himself a smirk before leaning his head back out into the hall, ‘And no touching yourself, I want you primed and ready for when we get back!’
The growl he got in reply sent pleasant tingles up and down his tightly encased thighs. Yes indeed, everything was going right according to plan.
***************
Four hours later, John was forced to reevaluate the situation. Somehow it had all gotten completely out of hand.
As he lay in the bed, listening to the sounds of Chris in the bathroom cleaning up the residue of what he’s pretty sure was the contents of his stomach from the last month, he tried to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong.
He’d done everything he was supposed to:
Dress up just for him (and make sure he knows it) -CHECK
Get him into a state of anticipation - CHECK
Show him how desirable you are (but always come back to him) -CHECK
Seduce him with little touches (but always leave him wanting more) -CHECK
Make sure he gets his boy-time -CHECK
Get involved in a drinking bet with his best friends -CHECK
Wait…… actually he was pretty sure that last one wasn’t on Cosmo’s list of ‘5 tips for the perfect night out’.
Dammit, John knew he shouldn’t have taken that bet from Simon and Karl but they’d been so convincing, and Chris had just excused himself to take a phone call -undoubtedly from New York- and he just hadn’t been able to resist showing off.
It had worked too, body shots have a way of grabbing people’s attention and if the make-out session on the cab ride home had been anything to go by things had been heading exactly where he had wanted them to.
Then the tequila had decided to reintroduce itself.
GOD, at least he’d made it to the bathroom.
John was just settling in to a nice round of self- flagellation when he felt the light shut off, and a gentle hand replaced the forearm draped across his eyes with a cool washcloth.
‘Sorry, sorry, oh my GOD I am so sorry,’ even the sound of his own voice, harsh from retching, made John want to wince.
‘Hey now, none of that.’ Chris’s voice was soothing, ‘I actually had a great time right up until the end, and you know how rare that is for me in crowds. And I tell you what, the image that’s going to stick with me is you spread out across the bar with your shirt riding up, legs spread in those tight jeans- that we need to get off of you now somehow- not the actually rather charming view of you bent over the toilet.’
‘Thanks for that, I think’ John said in an attempt to distract himself from the jostling required to get him out of said jeans. ‘You really aren’t mad?’ He couldn’t help but ask.
‘What could I possibly be mad about?’
John had to peak out from beneath the washcloth to gauge the look on Chris’s face. What he saw was a mixture of amusement and fondness, no trace of the frustration he’d expected. John felt an awkward little jolt of worry, and even though he wanted to kick himself for looking a gift horse of magnanimity in the mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking maybe he hadn’t been as successful as he’d thought.
‘You aren’t upset that, you know, ‘ -oh fuck eloquence- ‘I’m not exactly in a position to deliver on my promises from earlier.’
Chris actually laughed the bastard, but then he started stripping down, and John thought that just maybe he might be able to forgive him. ‘Oh babe, you’re going to deliver alright, but it doesn’t have to be right now, you didn’t think you were going to get out of it that easily did you?’ Chris asked with a grin before taking back the washcloth and helping John slip out of the tank he’d been wearing beneath his shirt.
‘Hmmmm, guess you caught on to my master plan’ John gave a theatrical sigh, ‘Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to take care of you later.’
‘Now that’s more like it.’ Chris slipped into bed beside him, gently pushing John onto his side so he could spoon up against his back. ‘This alright?’ Chris whispered as he slipped an arm around John’s middle, the words were said softly and directed towards his shoulder blade in deference to John’s likely tender head.
‘Yeah’ John managed to mumble just before drifting off, ‘This is just fine.’
***********************
When he finally does wake up the next morning, alone in bed but with the smell of sausage coming from the kitchen and a glass of his favorite hangover cure on the bedside table, John is more determined than ever that he’s going to get this right. He can’t imagine ever letting a man like his get away.
Do the things he likes to do:
John and Chris lay half cocooned beneath a layer of blankets enjoying that rare occurrence: the shared weekend off. Reruns of Sharkweek played in the background, but neither of them was really paying much attention, choosing instead to half-heartedly sort through scripts, catch-up on reading and just take the time to just bask in each other’s presence.
But, one can only take so much of that level of sloth before restlessness sets in, and so John wasn’t surprised when his very active boyfriend started to shift more frequently, able to focus less and less on whichever distraction had caught his eye at the moment.
‘All right,’ John said, ‘I think we’ve both had enough pajama time for one Saturday. Why don’t we get up and go do something with the rest of the day.’
Chris gave him a slightly skeptical look obviously remembering the last time they’d gone out, ‘What exactly did you have in mind?’
‘’What?’ John said in response to the look on Chris’s face. Chris just stared right back at him. ‘Hey now! I thought we were past that.’ Chris raised one eyebrow. ‘Okay fine, how about this time you pick where we go. We can do anything you want.’
‘What if I want to stay in?’ Chris said with a hint of challenge.
‘Oh come on! You’ve been twitching for the last hour, not even your crossword has been able to keep you still. We need to get out of here before we melt into the mattress.’ Chris slumped down further under the covers in defiance, face set in a theatrical pout but John knew it was all for show, Chris just hated having to be the one to make plans.
‘How about we take a walk down to Fifth?’ John offered, ‘I know you’ve been dying to try out the new boxing center that just opened.’
‘You want to come boxing with me?’ Chris’s expression shifted to one of actual confusion, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Hey now, I could totally take you!’ John rolled on top of Chris, pining his wrists in demonstration.’
‘MMMhmmmm. You can take me,’ Chris said from underneath him, ‘that’s an offer.’
‘Oh you did not just say that,’ John said, trying (and failing) to keep his face serious. ‘You do know that I am NEVER calling you Kirk in bed right?’ Although, the thought did occur to him that that should probably be his next plan of attack: spice things up in the bedroom.
Chris heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘Well if that’s off the table then I guess we had better get going, I have no idea when the new place closes but I doubt they’re open past seven on a Saturday.’ He squirmed quickly out from under John and John let him go after claiming a quick kiss, hiding his smug expression in the pillow that still smells of Chris.
**********************
‘What? No! I totally wasn’t dissing your skills.’ Chris assured John as they walk through the doors of the boxing center. Maybe it was the laughter in Chris’s voice but John didn’t quite believe him. ‘Really babe! I remember training for the last movie, you could totally take me with that whole Samurai Kung-fu thing you have going on.’
‘That would be Taekwondo you uncultured ass.’ John rolled his eyes and smacked Chris upside the head. Chris held up his hands in mock-surrender and John mimed the ‘slit your throat’ gesture before they both burst out laughing.
Eventually they calmed down enough to take in their surroundings and John had to admit to being pretty impressed. For some reason he’d pictured dim lighting, sawdust and exposed pipes in the ceiling. Instead, the place was well lit and clean with mirrors covering most of the walls, giving the already large space the appearance of being positively huge.
Chris staked out a mat and started warming up and John was content to settle down for a few stretches somewhere with a good view and drool. Chris did a few stretches with him and then sidled up to one of those suspended punching bags. Soon enough there was a fine sheen of sweat on his skin and John watched in glee as he paused for a moment to whip his tee-shirt off.
John will always claim understandable distraction due to half naked and sweaty Chris Pine for what happens next.
Apparently, one of the regulars had overheard John and Chris’s exchange when they first entered the gym and decided that a match with a martial artist might be a fun challenge. By the time the guy’s presence finally filtered through John’s fantasy addled brain, it seems he’d already agreed to go a few rounds with the guy in the ring.
John thought about protesting, he’s never been much of a fighter on his own time, but the guy must have noticed the reason for his distraction because he made a snide comment about pretty boys and their toys and even though it was said good naturedly, after Chris’s comments that morning John couldn’t just let that stand.
Chris helped him wrap up his hands and once he realized John was serious about this, gave him a few tips.
Of course John got his ass handed to him.
It wasn’t that bad though, he was much faster than his opponent and all of that fight choreography must have somewhat sunk in because he actually managed to land a few hits of his own. Chris tried to get him to stop after the first round, but John wanted to make a good impression and besides, he was actually starting to understand what Chris sees in this whole boxing thing. There’s an exhilaration to it, something basic and primal in the connection of (padded) fist to flesh. All told, he made it through three rounds before calling a halt and sharing a fist-bump-man-hug with his opponent.
Chris helped him take off his gloves with eyes full of banked heat and John surfed the endorphin high from the fight all the way back to his place.
Chris must have found the fight stimulating too because they barely made it inside the door before Chris was on him all lips and tongue and teeth. John hitched one leg around Chris’s waist and grappled him in closer grinding against the hardness that equaled his own. Chris braced him against the wall, one hand griping John’s ass while the other worked its way under his shirt. And that’s about when the adrenaline rush wore off.
‘Ow HNNG’ John hissed, pulling his mouth away from Chris’s in an attempt to catch his breath. Chris stilled.
‘That’s not a happy noise.’
‘No, no it’s fine, I’m fine, come back here.’ John tried to drag Chris’s mouth back to his own but Chris leaned back, letting John’s leg fall and bringing his other hand around to help lift John’s shirt up to his chin.
‘Babe what the hell?’ Chris said, his voice concerned. John looked down and saw the bruises starting to form on his chest and sides. Huh, why is it that bruises never hurt until you see them? ‘Oh, Ow.’
Chris just shook his head, gently lowering John’s shirt to re-conceal the bruises. ‘Come on you, let’s get you taken care of.’ Chris led him into the bedroom where he carefully undressed him. First he eased his shirt over shoulders that were just starting to stiffen up then he gently pushed John down onto the bed. ‘Stay right there.’ He said before rummaging around in the bathroom for the first aid kit.
When he came back he made sure to kiss each one of John’s bruises before covering them with a medicated cream and lightly wrapping his torso with an ace bandage.
‘How come you always seem to be taking care of me?’ John asked that night after some of the most careful sex John has ever experienced.
‘It’s my job isn’t it?’ Chris responded and John smiled into their goodnight kiss.
*************
A couple of days later, John sat on the couch, taking advantage of the fact that his ribs were finally healed and pouring over his Cosmos looking for The Big One. The idea that would be sure to snare Chris for good. He had just found a likely candidate in the article entitled ‘Get him away for a while, five secret tips to the perfect romantic vacation’ when he heard Chris’s footsteps in the hall.
In a panic, he desperately tried to stuff the magazines underneath the cushion behind him and compose himself before Chris walked in. He had just managed to arrange his limbs into some semblance of nonchalance when he looked up to find Chris paused in the doorway with a strange expression on his face. For a moment, John feared that he hadn’t made it in time, but then Chris’s expression smoothed out into a grin and John allowed himself to breath again.
It’s too bad that he was so overwhelmed with relief that he failed to notice the almost feral glint in Chris’s eyes as he sauntered -one might even say stalked- towards him.
Chris wasn’t content to just bend down for a hello kiss. Instead he climbed up to join John on the couch, settled himself between John’s knees, stretched himself out on top of his boyfriend and proceeded to kiss the daylights out of him.
John was far too dazed by the experience to realize the implications of the crinkling he’d vaguely heard until Chris had his prize in hand.
‘And what have we here?’ Chris sat back, magazine in hand a look of triumph on his face. ‘Something Kinky maybe?’ John stared in horror, wracking his brain for some explanation.
‘It’s not what you think.’
‘Uhhm, no, apparently not.’ Chris said with some confusion as he took in the bright colors and fully clothed cover model of the Cosmo. His brow furrowed even more as Chris started to flip through the magazine, taking in the scribbles and annotations John had made detailing his plans in the margins.
John watched, mouth dry and heart in his throat as Chris finally looked up from the magazine, face set in somber lines.
This is it, John thought, this is the end.
Then, all of a sudden Chris was laughing. At first all John could feel was relief but then as Chris’s laughter showed no signs of abating, embarrassment and anger started to take over.
Chris must have seen some of that on his face, even through his laughter-induced tears because he quickly moved to prevent John from getting up in a huff.
‘No, no, wait.’ Chris said, finally getting a handle on his reaction. ‘I was just surprised that’s all.’
John paused in his struggle to get out from under Chris and then off the couch (maybe so far as Abu Dhabi if he could manage it). ‘So… you’re not making fun of me and my choice of literature?’ Chris shook his head firmly. ‘And you’re not upset at me for trying to -‘ John wasn’t sure exactly how to describe what he had been trying to do and so he settled for a couple of vague hand gestures. Chris must have understood anyway because he shook his head again and placed a quick kiss on John’s lips.
‘If I let you up are you still going to try to run away?’ Chris asked, ‘Because I’ve got something to show you that I think you’ll like, but it would probably be easier with my hands free.’
John must have spent too long contemplating his options because Chris dropped his forehead down to the junction of John’s neck and shoulder, let out a huff that he would later swear was NOT a laugh and said, ‘Fine, have it your way, I’m going to let your hands go and you can get what I want to show you. It’s tucked into the back waist band of my jeans, under my shirt.’
John let his hands wander down, taking his time -who knew if he’d get the chance again after this- before pulling out the strangely familiar object. Chris was still using his weight to pin him down and so it took some awkward maneuvering to get the object up above Chris’s shoulder to take a look.
‘Chris, why exactly did you have a copy of Men’s Health magazine tucked into your waistband?’
‘Him ny surmimble gui’ Chris’s voice was muffled as he hadn’t yet lifted his face out of John’s neck.
‘What was that?’ John felt a rush of heat against his neck and realized that Chris must be blushing.
‘It’s my survival guide.’ Chris lifted his head up enough to be audible but not enough to risk making eye contact.
‘Your survival guide to what?’ John allowed himself to hope; maybe this wasn’t the end after all.
‘You. This. Us.’ John tossed the magazine behind the couch and used both hands to coax Chris up to look at him.
‘Why would you need a survival guide for our relationship?’
‘Same reason I’m hoping you constructed all of those elaborate little diagrams in your Cosmo. I want this to work, I want this -us- to last.’ Chris looked so insecure and hopeful that John felt like his heart might burst. ‘I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t want you to get away,’ Chris admitted softly.
‘I didn’t want to let you to get away either,’ John reassured him, shifting his weight around so that they were holding each other rather than smooshing and getting smooshed. ‘I guess we were both idiots: relying on magazines when we could have just been talking to each other,’
‘You’re probably right,’ Chris agreed before grinning a little evilly, ‘but you have to admit, it was kind of fun.’
‘Fun?’ John asked in mock outrage. ‘You call allergic reactions, alcohol poisoning and me getting pummeled by a six-foot gorilla fun?’
‘Well sure,’ Chris said sheepishly but with an unmistakable look of adoration on his face, ‘I mean, we were together right? It’s always more fun when you’re around.’
‘Oh my god, you’re killing me with the sap Pine.’ John said than quickly placed his hand over Chris’s mouth. ‘And no, I don’t want to hear anything about Pines and ‘sap’ you licentious bastard.’
‘Licentious huh?’ Chris asked once John had moved his hand. ‘I’ll give you licentious.’
And he did.
************************
Later that night, lying in bed with his arms firmly wrapped around Chris, John finally thought to ask why he had happened to have the magazine on him that morning.
‘Well,’ Chris cleared his throat nervously, ‘I wanted to have it on hand for reference. You see, there was something I wanted to ask you that I didn’t get the chance to what with all the revelations and almost-make-up-sex.’
‘And you felt you needed your survival guide just to ask me a question?’ John asked intrigued.
‘Well, it is a pretty big one.’ John held his breath while Chris exhaled roughly. ‘Will you move in with me?’
‘Move in with you?’ John tried to find the balance between ecstatic and practical. ‘But you don’t have a house.’
‘Yeah, I was hoping you might be willing to help me rectify that.’ Chris said. ‘According to Men’s Health it’s very important to get your partner’s opinion in matters like this.’ John felt a glow bloom in his chest at the word partner.
‘Well,’ John said, smile evident despite the darkness, ‘We wouldn’t want to go against the advice of Men’s Health magazine now would we.’
*******************
Several hours later (none of them spent sleeping thank you very much) John made himself a mental note to be sure to send a nice letter to the editor of Cosmo… and maybe one to Men’s Health too.
After all, they had never yet steered him wrong.
The End