FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Yellow Light (3/5)

[the_deep_magic]

Title: Yellow Light (Part 3/5)

Author:the_deep_magic

Pairing: Pinto

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 3,897

Disclaimer: I do not know these people and I am not making any money from this.

Summary: For this prompt at the kink meme. Basically, Zach/Chris, slow romance … they don’t fuck on the first date. 

A/N: Naughtiness at last! The muse is pleased. NOTE: Comments on this entry have been disabled because of spam.  If you'd like to comment, please do so on another part or on the fic at Dreamwidth.  Thanks!

Part 1 / Part 2

Chris felt like shit.

The day had started with a call from his agent to say that he hadn’t gotten the part in that indie movie whose script he was so infatuated with. After a great deal of wheedling – which he now regretted – he had gotten it out of his agent that the director had pronounced Chris “too pretty” for the part.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he whined to his agent, who was not in a sympathetic mood. 

“It means you’re being unfairly discriminated against. Let me know how the class-action lawsuit turns out.” He could practically hear her eyes roll through the phone. Weren’t agents supposed to be more supportive?

The rest of the day continued in much the same manner – no great tragedies, just a series of annoying incidents so petty that Chris felt ridiculous to let them bother him. Spilled coffee, a new pair of jeans shrinking in the wash to a pornographically tight fit, a blown car stereo fuse without a spare. If Chris had owned a dog, it would have pooped on the rug and then run away; it was just that kind of day.

Things finally started to look up when he got in the car with Zach that evening. “I’m too pretty,” he griped.

“I’ve been saying that for years,” Zach said, and leaned over to thoroughly kiss Chris’ pout away.

Chris sighed. “Can’t we just go back inside and make out?”

“Absolutely not! I haven’t gone to see a movie in the theater in ages, and you owe me for making me watch ‘Mitchell.’” He put his hand on the nape Chris’ neck and gently rubbed at the tension there. “Besides, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Chris relaxed back in the seat and closed his eyes, visions of good old-fashioned movie theater groping dancing in his head.

But there was no groping. They barely even got to sit together. Some reality TV “star” managed to crash his car into a lamppost and get into a drunken fight with the responding police officers right in front of the theater. It would have been hilarious if there hadn’t been cameras everywhere. Zach and Chris were spotted right away, and though they easily played it off as friends just catching a movie together, neither dared to do anything more than sit next to the other.

The theater was also more full than Chris had anticipated – he wasn’t sure how much he could whisper to Zach without being overheard, so apart from “More popcorn?” he mostly stayed silent. He had to practically sit on his hands to keep from touching Zach, and he felt guilty for the way he kept glancing at Zach when neither of them could do anything about it. The events of the day had left him feeling, well, needier than usual, and he had sort of hoped that he and Zach might take the next step. 

But the cameras were still around when the movie let out – apparently some drugs had been found in the wrecked car – and they agreed with mutual frustration that Chris should take a cab home. The cab ride was an instant mood killer, not that there had been much of a mood left to kill. The driver had not only recognized him, but actually asked him to do a Shatner impersonation, and Chris wondered if he could survive flinging himself out of a moving vehicle on the highway if he tucked and rolled on the landing.

Somehow Chris managed to make it through the ride and even tip the guy (though not especially generously) without throwing a punch, but when he got inside his apartment, he slammed the door with enough force to knock a picture from the wall and break the glass.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, picking up the glass shards.

Chris was just getting ready to call his sister to engage in an epic bitching session when he heard the knock on the door. He half-expected the cabbie to be back, a bunch of his Trekkie friends in tow, but he was greeted with a vision so perfect he was sure he was hallucinating: Zach, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, hair tousled as though he’d not stopped touching it on the car ride over, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

Chris maintained just enough composure to speak one word: “Please.”

Zach had his shoulders pinned solidly to the wall and was well on his way to sucking a spectacular bruise into Chris’ neck before the younger man knew what was happening. “So,” Zach growled, removing his lips from Chris’ throat just long enough to speak. “This is, what, our fourth date?”

“Yeah, if you count… nnnngh, if you count the – oh, fuck yes – the movie here the other night.” Chris scrabbled to find something to hang on to on the lean, hard body writhing against him.

“So I would not” – Zach’s voice was disturbingly steady as he dropped his hands to Chris’ hips – “be remiss in asking whether you’d care to advance our relationship?”

Chris whimpered by way of an answer, finally twisting a hand in that soft black hair and pulling Zach’s head up to kiss him soundly. The low, sweet sound that worked its way up Zach’s chest gave Chris the courage to reach for the older man’s belt and crush their hips together.

He gasped at the feeling of Zach’s erection pressing against him. The sensation was strange, but not disagreeable in the least. All he had to do was rock his hips to make both of them grunt with pleasure. Zach was pressing harder into him now, his kisses becoming messier and less controlled until—

Zach froze. He pulled back to look at Chris, eyes wild. “If you want me to st—“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” The words were out of his mouth as soon as he met Zach’s eyes, and he drove the point home by biting Zach’s lower lip until Zach shoved him back into the wall with such force that he had to gasp for breath.

Zach shoved his knee between Chris’ legs to force them apart, and Chris responded by shoving hard into the other man’s thigh. It was what Chris had been waiting for – the last thread of Zach’s control snapped and he began grinding their hips together with such force that Chris’ feet nearly left the floor.

For his part, Chris just tried to hang the hell on. Dammit, a dry hump against the wall was not supposed to feel this good, but the fabric of his underwear rubbed mercilessly against the head of his cock with each perfect thrust and Zach’s hips were steady and unrelenting as a fucking metronome and before Chris could even moan he was coming, spurting hot and hard in his pants.

Chris’ orgasm seemed to trigger Zach’s own, and Chris had to dig his fingers into Zach’s shoulders to ride it out. Once Chris got his feet back firmly on the floor, he pulled Zach to lean against him, trusting the wall to keep them both upright. They shuddered against each other for a few long moments, foreheads pressed together and mouths slack and panting. Chris, studiously trying to ignore the dry cleaning nightmare he was in for, imagined what the two of them looked like in silhouette, backlit by the bulb near his front door.

“For the record,” said Zach with some effort, “that’s not what I had planned when I knocked on the door.”

Chris huffed out a breath that was too sated to be a real laugh. “Whatever you planned, let me assure you that this was infinitely better.”

“Better than Mad Libs and waffles?”

“Zach, I am, like, 97 percent sure that you do not currently have any waffles on your person.”

Zach leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You like me better than waffles, anyway.”

“Yeah,” said Chris, totally unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face. “Yeah, I do.”

&&&

It started with a text from Hayden.

Zs had a rough day - he needs u

Half an hour later, Chris finagled his way onto the Heroes set, carrying a bag of Thai takeaway and a couple of beers. He’d been to the set before, but Zach had always been there to convince security that Chris wasn’t, in fact, some nut trying to sneak illicit YouTube footage on a cell phone camera. He started to feel guilty for actually using the line “Don’t you know who I am?” – cliché and asshole-ish all in one go – but then he saw the relieved look on Hayden’s face when she spotted him.

“Love him good,” she said, lifting up on her toes to peck him on the cheek as she passed. 

Chris had the thought that perhaps he should be embarrassed at a 19-year-old girl commenting on his love life, but he was mostly just happy that Zach’s friends had now become his friends. He knocked on the door to Zach’s trailer and got an ambiguous grunt in response.

Zach looked exhausted. He’d taken a shower, at least, but he was wearing a gray t-shirt/sweatpants combo. Chris didn’t think Zach realized it, but his clothing choices were practically a mood ring. Chris decided to just get down to it. “What happened?”

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” Zach said, slumping down into a chair.

“Fair enough. I brought food.” Chris set it down on the table.

Zach sighed and finally met his eyes. “Look, I can’t be Zach the Dashing Gentleman Caller tonight. I’m tired and I’m cranky and I’m likely to take it out on you.”

“Please,” Chris retorted with mock annoyance. “I’ve dealt with Cranky Zach before. Haven’t seen much of him since his eyebrows grew back in, but I think I still remember well enough.”

Zach groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “I’m serious, Chris.”

“So am I.” Chris moved to stand behind Zach and set his hands on the older man’s shoulders, thankful when he didn’t pull away. “Zach, I don’t want you to feel like you always need to be on when you’re with me. It’s great when you’re charming and funny, but you’ve got to take a break sometimes and let me give something back.” He started to knead the muscles in Zach’s shoulders and was surprised at the tension there. “Holy hell, what are they doing to you here?”

“Yanking me around on a string for one thing,” Zach said, easing back into Chris’ touch. “Both metaphorically and literally. I’m lobbying for an episode where Sylar gets to be evil while reclining on a stack of pillows and eating raspberries.”

Chris chuckled, digging into a particularly nasty knot. “Villainous pillows? Evil raspberries?”

“The evilest.”

“Hey, let’s move this party to the couch.” 

Once there, Chris maneuvered an unusually pliant Zach until the older man’s head rested on Chris’ knees. He brushed his fingers up Zach’s neck, ran them through his hair. Zach made the most beautiful sound just then, a breathy oh so soft Chris might not have even heard it had the trailer not been completely quiet. He shifted his focus to the older man’s scalp, rubbing the pads of his fingers in slow, firm circles, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Zach’s hair in his hands. He had never gotten to touch it when it was free of whatever gels and mousses and sculpting wax its owner put in there – Chris knew Zach hated the look of his hair without them, but it was so thick and soft to the touch that Chris had fleeting thoughts of flat-out begging Zach to leave it clean. Maybe the offer of more scalp massages would sweeten the deal.

If the shift of Zach’s hips was any indication, Chris might not have to do any begging after all. He gathered up a good deal of hair between his fingers and tugged lightly and, yes, certain parts of Zach’s body were definitely not too tired or cranky for him. Carefully slipping up and off the couch, Chris placed a pillow under Zach’s head and moved down to kneel between his legs on the cushions. Zach made a quiet, confused noise and his eyes held an intoxicating mixture of puzzlement and arousal. Chris leaned over him, not putting all his weight down but allowing Zach to feel the press of his body as he kissed him. He felt a little more of the tension ebb out of Zach and concentrated all his energy into making the older man melt beneath him.

“Chris,” Zach whispered as the younger man drew back, looking at Chris with what had to be the epitome, the Platonic Form of bedroom eyes. He took a moment to wonder how he had lived this long without knowing that, with little more than the touch of his hands and his lips, he could get Zach to look at him like this. 

Before he could do or say something so utterly sappy that it would inevitably ruin the mood, Chris kissed Zach’s jaw, enjoying the now-familiar texture of stubble against his lips. He trailed his mouth down Zach’s throat to the small ridge of collarbone visible at the neck of his t-shirt. He suppressed his urge to bite down, knowing all too well the consequences of incurring the wrath of the makeup department.

Chris scooted back far enough to push the hem of Zach’s shirt up, enjoying the sight and the feel of the skin he bared. The torso beneath the ribs was a vulnerable area, and Chris suddenly felt oddly protective of the man beneath him. He brushed his lips lightly against the soft, warm skin, setting off small tremors in the muscle beneath.

“Careful,” Zach sighed, running his fingers through Chris’ hair. “I’m ticklish.”

The younger man chuckled, but took care to stay away from any spots that made Zach twitch. He dipped his tongue in Zach’s (clean, of course) bellybutton and nuzzled the skin around it, trying not to laugh at the hair that tickled his own nose. “Shit, this isn’t a happy trail. This is a happy highway. A happy thoroughfare. A happy—“

Zach smacked his cheek lightly. “How clever. Now get up here so I can kiss you.”

“Hmmm…” mused Chris, pretending to think it over. “Nope.”

“‘Nope’? You think you’ll get a better offer tonight?”

Chris cut him off by tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants and biting the swell of Zach’s hipbone. “Got a better idea.”

“Chris, you don’t have to—“

“I want to.”

Zach propped himself up on his elbows. “Well, if you expected Cranky Zach to put up any more resistance, you’re shit out of luck.” He lifted his hips to let Chris pull his sweatpants down.

If Chris was honest with himself, he had to admit that he held his breath as he laid Zach bare. He could safely say this was the closest he’d ever been to another man’s junk, and for one horrible moment he thought he was going to laugh out of sheer nerves, and he knew from experience that that was never a good way to start a blowjob.

But, as it turned out, there was no thunder or earthquakes and his face didn’t melt like the guy at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was just a cock. A fairly nice one, too, though Chris didn’t have enough experience to judge in any kind of objective sense. It was a good size, half-hard, and – most importantly – attached to Zach, who was gazing down at Chris with far more patience than he would’ve had if their positions were reversed.

Chris let out the breath he had been holding, and even that little bit of stimulation was enough to make Zach’s cock twitch, harden a little bit more. Chris felt the pressure of the moment and, not wanting to look like the fumbling teenager he felt like, drew up the courage to take Zach in his hand.

It was a truly odd feeling, familiar and yet not, a mirror image of a well-known action that left Chris briefly disoriented. But Zach seemed to find even the motionless grip of Chris’ hand arousing, and pushed his hips up against it.

Chris got the message. Experimentally, he stroked Zach once, firmly, from root to tip. It made Zach growl, and anything that made Zach growl was worth repeating. So he did. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised to feel the other man’s cock lengthen and harden in his hand, but he was slightly amazed nonetheless. I did that, he thought, somewhat ridiculously, and set about finding other ways to produce the same result.

Chris tried to think about what he liked. A twist of his wrist at the end of a stroke resulted in a pleased hum, but a thumb swiped roughly over the head earned him a stuttered gasp. He glanced up briefly almost as an afterthought and his jaw dropped open at the obvious pleasure washing over Zach’s expressive features. He’d clearly been looking in the wrong direction – all the action was up there. Chris turned his focus to Zach’s face, navigating entirely by touch as he tried to read every twitch of Zach’s lips, every shift of his eyes beneath closed lids.

Zach was fully hard now, and Chris soon felt wetness against his thumb. He looked back down to Zach’s cock and bit his lip, suddenly nervous again. He started to panic a little – he did want to taste Zach, to learn the feel of him in his mouth, but what if he was terrible at it? And if he wasn’t, did he have to swallow? Oh god, what if he hurt Zach somehow…

“Chris,” Zach said, either sensing the turmoil in Chris’ head or simply desperate for him to continue. It didn’t matter; Chris saw the raw desire in his friend’s eyes and knew he couldn’t ever resist that even if he wanted to.

Still keeping his hand around Zach’s cock, Chris swiped his tongue across the glistening glans. Zach had a salty, bitter flavor – not great, but not horrible, either. Steeling his nerves, Chris held his breath and tried to swallow Zach all in one go. And promptly gagged when the other man’s cock hit the back of his throat.

He pulled back, choking and coughing. “I can’t—“ he wheezed. “Zach, I don’t think I can—“

“Don’t worry about it,” said Zach with surprising calm, all things considered. “Trust me, it’s overrated anyway. Just focus on the head and the vein on the underside.”

One day soon, Chris was going to have to quiz him about the “overrated” comment, but for now, he just nodded and shifted back into place. This time, he used just the tip of his tongue to trace the vein, and Zach made that wonderful growling sound again.   Next, he tried a long, flat lick, followed by hard, sucking kisses all along the length.

He heard a breathless “More” from up on the couch, and swirled his tongue around the head. He was rewarded with a deep groan and a “God, that feels amazing,” so he repeated the action. A little wiser this time, he took Zach full in his mouth just to feel the weight of him on his tongue. After a few lazy sweeps of his tongue, he closed his lips around Zach and sucked.

Without any warning, Zach’s hips bucked up and Chris was barely able to pull back in time.

“Hold my hips down,” Zach gasped.

Already back in position, Chris ignored every stricture he’d ever heard against talking with his mouth full and said “Huh?” Or at least he tried to – all that came out was a low vibration, one that made Zach fling his head back and swear.

“Fuck, I don’t want to choke you. Hold me down.”

Any stupid comment Chris was about to make about Zach’s high opinion of his own size got washed away in the flood of lust at the realization that Chris was rapidly making Zach
lose control.   He anchored Zach’s hips with his forearms and went to work in earnest.

He bobbed his head the best he could, feeling awkward as hell but buoyed by the sweet, pleading sounds Zach was making. His jaw ached a little already and he felt like a bit of a wimp for it, but Zach was obviously getting close, so Chris sucked harder, moaning around Zach’s cock in sympathy.

Zach gasped out, “I’m about to— Oh, god, Chris, I’m gonna—“ and then he was coming in long, hot pulses in Chris’ mouth. Chris tried to swallow, he really did, but it was too much, too fast and most of it spilled on Zach’s stomach. 

After one last, soft lick, Chris released Zach’s spent cock and hazarded a look up at his face. And though Chris felt like an inexperienced teenager, his lips rubbed raw and Zach’s cum dripping down his chin, Zach was looking at him as though Chris had just finished painting the Sistine Chapel.

Something snapped in Chris’ brain and he started babbling, vaguely horrified at the insipid words coming out of his mouth. “I didn’t— I’m sorry, I couldn’t swallow, I wanted to, but—“

But Zach just sighed “Shut up” and pushed up on slightly shaky arms to lick Chris’ chin clean before kissing him soundly.

Chris gasped around Zach’s invading tongue, surprised that the other man would want to kiss him after that, but Zach didn’t let up until Chris was breathless and suddenly, gloriously hard. He’d been too nervous at first, and then too wrapped up in Zach’s reactions to notice his own arousal, but now he felt all the pent-up lust hit him at once.

“I think,” Zach said between kisses, “bravery like that should be rewarded.”

Chris thought that giving his boyfriend a blowjob hardly counted as bravery, but Zach was unzipping his fly and pulling him out of his pants and boxers, so Chris happily kept mum on the subject. It wouldn’t be until much later that he’d realize he had thought the word boyfriend without any hesitation.

But at the moment, Chris was entirely focused on whatever marvelous, wicked thing Zach’s hand was doing to him. He wanted to actually look, because damn, but Zach’s mouth was keeping his too busy. His orgasm came quickly, and he cried out against Zach’s mouth as he plummeted over the edge.

They ended up sort of slumped together, Zach against the couch and Chris against Zach. Chris hated to break the mood, feeling sated and content to rest against Zach’s shoulder, but his stomach would not be ignored. “Food’s getting cold,” he said.

Zach laughed, a low rumble in his chest. “Food and sex – is that all you ever think about? ‘Sex is done, let’s get to the food!’”

Chris sat up and nipped at Zach’s ear. “Brought the food for you, you twit.”

“And I’m grateful,” Zach murmured. He shifted up off the couch. “Let’s get cleaned up first.”

Chris flopped back on the cushions, happy to indulge in a few last moments of bonelessness. “For the record,” he said, “that’s exactly what I had planned when I knocked on the door.”

 Continue to Part 4