FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Comfortably Numb

[the_deep_magic]

Title: Comfortably Numb
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mild D/s, bondage, toys
Word Count: 3,510
Disclaimer: Mine? No.
Summary: A sequel to Into the White and Some Weird Sin.  This time it’s Zach who needs to let go.
A/N: Trying out Chris’ POV here and the mood is a bit different.  This time I’m ripping off Pink Floyd.
Son of A/N: If you are a visual person, the toys mentioned can be seen here and here (WARNING: this website is the NSFW-est thing EVER.  There are dicks.)

By now, Noah has long known the sound of Chris’ car and doesn’t bother to bark when he shows up.  He doesn’t even greet Chris at the door, just gives him the “Oh, you again” eyes as he lets himself in.

“Zach?” Chris calls, and gets no response.  He turns into the hallway and sees Zach sitting at his desk, the only light in the room coming from the computer screen and the late afternoon sunset filtering in through the blinds.  Chris is almost at the doorway when—

“Goddamnit!” Zach shouts at his computer screen, surprising Chris so badly that he has to grip the door frame to keep from falling over.

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” Zach moans, swiveling around in the chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose.  “I guess I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Guess not.  What’s got you so worked up anyway?”

“Fucking paps,” Zach says with a strained quality to his voice that Chris rarely hears.  Not to mention that Zach has sworn twice in the last ten seconds – never a good sign.

“What now?” asks Chris, crossing the room to lay a hand on Zach’s shoulder and peer at the screen at a grainy picture of Zach and a red-eyed, exhausted-looking Mrs. Quinto sitting across from each other at a booth.  The caption reads ZQ COMES OUT – BREAKS HIS MOTHER’S HEART?!?!

“When I went home for Christmas, we went out for coffee and she was really upset about Joe being unable to come home.  This conversation didn’t even have anything to do with me.  I mean, I don’t care what they say about me, but my mom doesn’t deserve this crap.”

“Shit, Zach, I’m sorry,” Chris says softly, rubbing Zach’s shoulders.  “Does your agent know?”

“I don’t think so.  I’m going to e-mail her now and have her get those pictures taken down, maybe rip the site owners a new asshole.  Every now and again it pays to have a rabid wolverine for an agent.”  With a sigh, Zach opens a new window and starts typing with furious intent, punching the keys a little too hard.  He’s too busy trying to communicate the right amount of vitriol to notice when Chris steps back to drop his messenger bag near the closet.

Clenching his fists in vicarious frustration, Chris watches the near-painful tautness in Zach’s back as he types.  He’s been stressed for weeks now over tensions on the Heroes set and even though he’s dealing with this latest fiasco better than Chris would, he’s still obviously distressed.  If it were Chris, Zach would physically restrain him, either with their favorite pair of leather cuffs or with his body, and talk him down, stripping away everything but the present moment, the rush of his heartbeat, the sounds of skin on skin…

Chris has an idea.

He undresses quickly, folding his clothes neatly beside the bed.  He hesitates for a moment as he reaches under the bed – it’s always been Zach’s job to bring out the box, unlock it with the key he keeps in the bedside table, set out the toys they’ll use – but Chris decides Zach needs a push in the right direction.  He sets the opened box on the bed, still allowing Zach the privilege of choosing the things he’ll use on Chris.  Then he reaches into the box and pulls out his collar, fingers gently stroking the soft leather before buckling it around his neck

When he’s done, Zach is still looking at the pictures as though he can somehow will them to disappear, so Chris quietly goes and kneels, naked, near the desk by the foot of the bed, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back.

“What is it?” Zach asks, able to see Chris in his peripheral vision but not yet turning to look.  When Chris is silent and Zach does look, he gasps, “Chris, no, not tonight.”

He hasn’t given Chris permission to speak, but since they haven’t really begun he hasn’t forbidden him to speak either, so Chris just says, “Please.”

“I said no.”

Chris takes a deep breath.  “Please.”

Dropping to his knees in front of Chris, Zach tilts the other man’s head up with an unsteady finger beneath his chin.  His eyes are nearly black in the dim light, but there’s still so much tension and fatigue in his face.  “We can’t do this now.  I’m angry, I’m tired – I could hurt you.”

Chris keeps his gaze steady, his expression open.  “You won’t.  I know you won’t.”

Zach drops his hand and his eyes narrow a little in confusion.  “Why are you being so insistent?” he asks, so quiet it’s nearly a whisper.

“When you dominate me, you’re so focused.  It’s part of why I love it – all your attention, all your energy directed at me.  Like there’s nothing else in the world.  It’s a little selfish, I know, but I thought… I thought that might help you now.”

Zach bites his lip as he thinks it over, brushing his fingers over the collar around Chris’ neck and searching Chris’ eyes for any doubt or hesitation.  But there’s none to find, and Chris can see the assent in Zach’s eyes before he speaks.  “Okay.  But no pain tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chris murmurs, and abandons the submissive pose just enough to put a warm hand on the back of Zach’s neck, tugging him closer until their foreheads are pressed together and the tips of their noses bump softly.  Zach’s eyes slip shut as they kiss gently, sweetly, barely more than lips brushing together.  Zach lets out a soft sigh, and Chris can practically feel him relinquish the heaviness that’s been riding on his shoulders in favor of taking up the control he loves so well.

All at once, Zach pulls back and stands with a sharp “Christopher.”  They both slip into their roles easily – the mere mention of his full name is enough to get Chris to return to his previous posture and send blood rushing to his cock.  He keeps his eyes on the floor in front of him but pays close attention to the sounds Zach makes as he gets ready.  A soft, surprised chuckle at Chris’ audacity in opening the toy box and setting it on the bed.  Shuffling and the occasional clank of metal on metal as Zach digs through the box, picks out what he wants.  The snap of the closing lid.  The barely audible whisper of Zach rolling up his sleeves.

“Come here,” Zach commands softly, and Chris rises and turns just in time to see Zach replacing the box under the bed.  He gestures at the toys he’s left on the bed for Chris’ silent approval.

With a small gasp, Chris nods.  Zach has pulled out only two items for tonight’s play, but they’re two of Chris’ very favorites – a small silver ring with a single bead on it and a large, curved prostate stimulator.  His cock is swelling rapidly in anticipation – it’s why Zach nearly always shows Chris what he’s going to use before he does it.

“On your back, head on the pillow, no talking,” Zach says, snapping Chris out of his fantasies.  He clambers eagerly on to the bed, lying as Zach had instructed and allowing his body to relax as he stares at the ceiling.  He finds the right headspace on his own – this is more about Zach than it is about him, so it’s easier than usual to will away his impatience.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Zach bend down near the head of the bed, bringing up the under-the-bed restraints that are usually tucked away just out of sight.  “You can watch,” Zach says, taking Chris’ right wrist and buckling it firmly into the strap.  He repeats the motion on Zach’s other wrist and both of his ankles, ensuring that the cuffs are neither too tight nor too loose.  His hands linger for a moment over the inside of Chris’ wrist, fingers stopping to feel the radial pulse that’s speeding up moment by moment.

When Chris is finally secured spread-eagle on the bed, Zach climbs up to kneel between Chris’ spread thighs.  He’s still fully dressed, and from this angle Chris can see that the bulge that’s usually beginning to tent his pants by now is conspicuously absent – a sure sign of stress.  “Relax,” Zach commands, and Chris takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.  He starts with his hands, letting the tension out of his fingers completely before taking another breath and letting his forearms go limp.  Some days he needs Zach to talk him through this, but not now.  Now he lets go with ease, consciously relaxing his shoulders before concentrating on his feet and moving up his legs.  By the time he’s released the tension in his abs and torso, Chris is practically melting into the bed yet intensely aware of his body, ready for whatever Zach has planned for him.

His eyes lift slowly open as one of Zach’s hands skims up his thigh, gripping the base of his hardening cock.  Chris’ breath hitches considerably as Zach slides the silver ring on, positioning it just beneath the head so the bead is pressing gently into the sensitive spot on the underside.  It’s a teasing pressure now, but as Chris’ cock swells, the bead will press harder and harder into that sweet spot, the intensifying sensation driving him crazy.  What it will not do, however, is keep him from coming without Zach’s permission.  It seems Chris himself is responsible for that tonight.

“Mmm, gorgeous,” Zach murmurs, obviously appreciating the small bit of ornamentation.  He idly smoothes his thumb over the glans and Chris just barely stops his hips from thrusting up.  He rarely gets this much direct stimulation so soon and it has him reeling already.  But then Zach’s hand is gone and Chris bites down on the urge to ask for it back.

Zach’s lips curl in a devious smile. “What shall we do tonight, Christopher?”  If it weren’t a decidedly rhetorical question, Chris would answer.  In detail.  But he trusts Zach, knows that whatever is coming will be good as long as he obeys.  “So pliant for me.  So open,” Zach says, rubbing his hands up and down Chris’ thighs, up and down, squeezing a little at the knees to keep Chris alert.  Zach’s eyes wander slowly up his lover’s body until Chris can see how dark they are with desire, how focused.

For now, Zach seems to be enjoying the ability to touch Chris so freely, running his fingers lightly under the back of Chris’ knees, the crook of his elbows, the soft skin just below his armpits – the sensitive places that too often get skipped over in the quest for quick gratification.  But it’s strangely satisfying, and by the time Zach is leaning over Chris to nibble a path up his outstretched arm from elbow to wrist, he’s sinking into subspace.  “Perfect,” Zach whispers.  “Let it happen.  Let go.”

Then Chris gradually becomes an exposed collection of nerves, the low, deep throbbing in his cock complimented by the light brush of Zach’s hands over the surface of his skin.  It’s so lovely, letting the need build slowly, and Chris has no sense of time at all as Zach touches him all over.  He barely registers the sound of the lube being uncapped, but then Zach’s wet fingers are stroking up his inner thigh, circling his entrance as delicately as if he were a blushing virgin.

He loves to watch this when he can, see the moment when Zach’s fingers breach him, but his eyes are heavy and the angle’s wrong anyway, so he lets his mind construct the scene for him.  It’s almost as if he’s floating outside of his body, watching the motion of Zach’s forearm as two of his fingers gently stretch Chris, the ring of muscle clenching to keep them inside.  Even when Chris is more than ready, Zach continues to glide his fingers in and out, letting him enjoy the sensation of being filled.

It’s a bit of a disappointment, then, when Zach’s warm fingers leave and are replaced by the cool, unyielding pressure of the toy.  But Chris relaxes anyway, his mind’s eye seeing Zach’s wrist work the curve of the dildo into his body.  When it finally slides home, Chris gasps – the ends press directly onto his prostate and perineum.  “Be still,” Zach commands, even though Chris’ limbs are bound and his hips are motionless.  Zach knows very well that all Chris has to do is tighten his muscles, clench greedily around the stimulator to light up his nerve endings like fucking fireworks.  That and Zach’s hand around his cock will bring him to climax in seconds, not minutes.
 
Chris tries to focus on his breathing, on the bead of sweat rolling slowly down from his temple – anything but pressure inside him and against him.  He can feel every thunderous beat of his heart in the head of his cock where the bead presses into him, and it’s like counting down the seconds on a time bomb.  His whole body trembling, he forces his eyes open to see Zach staring, enraptured, at his face, hair falling across hungry eyes and lips parted to drag in thick lungfuls of air.  Chris moans at the sight, digging his short fingernails into his palms to buy him a few more precious seconds of stillness.

Just when Chris is about to break, Zach whispers “Now” and Chris clenches frantically around the toy inside him.  It would be easier if he could use his hands, of course, but if he works his inner muscles just so, he can alternately rub the outer, textured end against his taint and the inner end against his prostate.  His whole body goes tense and he lets out a frustrated grunt as his body tries to curl in on itself, yanking at his restraints until they scrape audibly against the sheets.  Without Zach’s help, it’s slow, hard work, but Chris can feel his orgasm rumbling towards him like a tidal wave off in the distance, a thick wall of water headed inexorably toward the shore, sure to sweep away everything in its path and spin Chris head over heels in its wake.

With his eyes screwed tightly shut, Chris doesn’t see Zach’s hand reach down to switch on the vibrator.

Chris comes immediately – no time to breathe, no time to register the new sensations, just utter, mind-wiping bliss.  He feels every heavenly pulse of it at the tip of his cock, ecstasy prolonged by the pressure of the ring on that sweet spot.   It keeps going long after it should, aftershocks making his abs tighten convulsively until he collapses back to the bed completely spent, vision still a little gray around the edges.

But he holds on, doesn’t surrender to it as he normally might, wanting to feel Zach’s hands as they uncuff his wrists and ankles, fingers smoothing over the skin to check for any damage.  By the time Zach is wiping him clean, the sweat has cooled on his temples and Chris can focus his eyes well enough to see his lover’s face, eyes still dark with lust.

Zach chuckles as he wipes the underside of Chris’ chin.  “Jesus, Chris, if you’d come any harder, you’d have hit the wall behind you.”

“’s amazing,” Chris slurs, trying hard to muster the composure to actually converse with Zach.  “Surprised I’m still, oh—” Zach’s hands are careful as they slide the ring off Chris’ cock, but he’s still so sensitive that it robs him of speech for a few seconds.  “Surprised I’m still here.  Thought I might’ve spontaneously combusted.”

“Don’t even say that – your agent will kill me,” Zach chuckles, gently removing the stimulator from Chris and setting it aside to clean.  He stretches out next to Chris, props himself up on his elbow, and leans in to tenderly kiss his lover’s forehead.

This is about the time when Chris would usually tease Zach lazily before sliding inevitably into sleep, but he forces himself to roll up on his side before he can succumb to it.

“You were right,” Zach says, so soft it’s almost a whisper.  “That was what I needed.  Thank you.”

Zach leans in to kiss him, slowly and sumptuously, his fingers lightly brushing Chris’ stubbled jaw.  When he pulls back, he shifts his weight as if to get up off the bed, and Chris has to tug him back down.  “We’re not done.”

“S’okay,” Zach says with a tired but genuine smile.  “I feel better.  You should rest now and we’ll get some dinner later.”

“Zach,” whispers Chris, cupping a hand over the half-hard bulge in Zach’s jeans.  “Let me take care of this.”  Zach hesitates and Chris grabs his hand, brings the other man’s fingers up to touch the collar around Chris’ neck.  “I’m yours.  Tell me what you want.”

“I want… your hands,” Zach sighs, and Chris helps him shift down until they’re lying on their sides, facing each other.  Chris starts to reach for him, but stops and looks to Zach first.  “It’s okay – you don’t have to ask for permission,” Zach says, “not now.”

Chris nods, making quick work of Zach’s fly and drawing him gently out of his underwear.  Even though Chris is still completely naked, he doesn’t move to take Zach’s clothes off; he’s surely feeling vulnerable enough already.  Chris takes him in hand, stroking him easily to full hardness.  They do this quite a bit, too, just touch and pleasure each other as Chris and Zach, rather than as dominant and submissive, but Chris isn’t used to touching Zach like this so soon after their other play, while he’s still wearing his collar.  It brings a strangely unanchored feeling, different from subspace but just as surreal, and Chris closes his eyes to try to accept it, to learn what this new sensation is like.

Zach’s cock is hot and full in his hand and Chris takes the time to identify every feature of it by touch – the thick veins, the ridge below the head, the indentation of the slit.  The last makes Zach gasp, a bit of wetness sliding out against Chris’ thumb, and he spreads it over the glans in firm circles until he can feel Zach start to tremble.  “You take such good care of me,” Chris whispers, “even when I’m being a complete brat.  Especially then.  You crack me open and peel away all the frustration and bitterness.  Do you have any idea how incredible that feels?  How much I need it?”

He pulls himself closer until there’s barely room for his hand to fit between them and he can feel Zach’s breath against his lips.  He begins stroking Zach in slow, tight pulls, just the way he likes.  Zach lets out a soft sound that might be a word and Chris silences him with a quick kiss.  “Shh, you don’t need to talk.  Just feel.  Moan if I’m on the right track.”

Chris deftly twists his wrist and Zach moans hoarsely.  “Yeah, like that,” Chris chuckles.  “Perfect.”  Then, softer: “You’re perfect, Zach.”

Zach’s eyes come open at that, and though Chris is too close to him to focus on his face, he can see the ache there.  He knows Zach wants to argue, but Chris won’t let him.  Not now.  He captures Zach’s mouth in a kiss, though it’s little more than Zach gasping against Chris’ lips now that Chris is starting to twist his wrist as he strokes.  He has to be getting close, but Chris knows he won’t beg, and Chris doesn’t want him to.  That’s Chris’ job.

“C’mon, Zach,” he whispers, letting his lips graze the sides of Zach’s mouth, his cheeks, his chin.  “Let me see you.  Please.”  He backs up just enough to be able to focus on Zach’s face and quicken his strokes until Zach is rocking his hips helplessly.

“I’m gonna—” is all Zach gets out before he comes, his whole body shivering with it.  Chris strokes him through it, trying to draw out his pleasure until the very last moment before it becomes too much.  When it does, Chris lets go and puts his hand against Zach’s chest instead, feeling Zach’s heartbeat race against his palm.

“Chris,” Zach whispers, finally opening his eyes, and that’s all he needs to say.

They’ll go back to teasing each other in a few minutes – more if they doze for a while first.  Chris will give Zach shit about playing the martyr by trying to refuse a handjob and Zach will probably malign Chris’ handjob-giving abilities (in jest, if he knows what’s good for him) and they’ll bicker about it over some truly sub-par lo mein from that place around the corner.  But Zach is looking at Chris like he’s everything in the world, his hand still pressed to the collar around Chris’ neck, so everything else can wait.