the_deep_magic | FIC: Star Trek RPS -- Yellow Light (4/5)

the_deep_magic

Title: Yellow Light (Part 4/5)

Author:the_deep_magic

Pairing: Pinto

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 3,976

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: So I’m crazy-nervous about this part after all the buildup (you guys are awesome readers, by the way), but at some point I have to stop rewriting the same three sentences over and over and post it already. And it might as well be now, yes?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

“We’re going to have to actually talk about this at some point,” Zach said in between sips of tea. Like he was referring to a discussion of the finer points of Marx’s historical materialism and not…

Chris mentally steeled himself to finish the thought: “and not whose cock goes up whose ass.” Because as hard as he’d fallen for Zach, as much as he’d enjoyed what they’d done together so far, the unspoken thought still troubled his mind – is this really going to happen? And how much do I want it to?

“I don’t want to pressure you,” Zach said quietly, leaning forward. “I’m fine with where we are now – I love where we are now. And we can stay here as long as you want. But we need to talk about it.”

Zach was a top. Chris had known enough gay men to understand that, and understand what it meant. He’d never asked Zach if he’d consider bottoming – Chris was just getting around to being able to think the question in the first place. It wasn’t like he was repulsed by the idea of Zach… doing that… to him. And he’d certainly spent plenty of time getting to know Zach’s man-bits very intimately. It was just – and he was trying desperately to phrase it right so he could say it without sounding like a dickhead – that 29-ish years as a straight man in contemporary American culture hadn’t prepared him to discuss anal sex with another man, let alone have it.

He opened his mouth to say this, but nothing came out.

“Found a way to render Chris Pine speechless,” Zach said with a wry grin. He took Chris’ hand in his across the table. “Will wonders never cease?”

“So I’ve got all these words,” Chris said, trying to focus on the road. “But I don’t think any of them are the right ones.”

“Why not?”

“Too clinical.”

“Try me.”

“Penetration. Lubricant. Sphincter.”

Zach made a choking sound. “Don’t say sphincter. Never say sphincter.”

“I regretted it the moment it left my mouth.”

“Okay,” said Zach, recovering quickly. “Two things: first, that’s what she said.” He dissolved into giggles and Chris smacked him in the shoulder while trying very, very hard not to laugh himself.

“Alright, Michael Scott. Second thing?”

“Penetration. Let’s work with that.”

“So… it has to happen, right?” Chris asked, afraid the rising intonation would give him away.

Zach knew anyway. “Well, there’s no law that says it has to happen. Matter of fact, there are several laws that say it shouldn’t, but most of those are off the books now anyway.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not convinced we should have this conversation while you’re driving.”

“As magnificent as your dick is, I don’t think discussing it is going to make me run off the road.”

“It’s been known to happen,” quipped Zach, but he remained silent for the remainder of the short drive back to his house.

Chris pulled into the driveway, shut off the ignition, and tipped his head back to rest against the seat. “But you want it to happen. Penetration, I mean. Not driving off the road.”

“I want it, yes. But that doesn’t make it the quintessence of sex.”

“But it kind of is, isn’t it?” Chris sat up, turning to face Zach. “Not that penetration is the only thing or the best thing, but it’s still the thing. I mean, there’s all kinds of intimacy involved, and trust, and deep… emotional… shit. More so than with other things. And words are failing me completely now.”

“You’re doing fine.”

Chris bit his lip, then decided to just go for it. “Would you bottom for me? If I wanted that?”

“Yes,” Zach said without any hesitation. He’d obviously thought about it – Zach didn’t do anything without careful consideration, and that more than anything else made up Chris’ mind for him.

“Well… that’s not what I want. Not for now, anyway.”

“Okay.”

With anyone else there might have been some kind of admission in the word, whether victory or defeat, anticipation or dread. But with Zach, it was just “okay,” just acknowledgment that he heard Chris. That he understood.

Zach held his gaze for a long time, put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Then his face broke into a grin. “You’re far too tense. Let’s go inside so I can suck you off.”

Chris laughed gratefully. “Sounds like a plan.”

Chris felt a little bit guilty for wasting water; he really did. But the prospect of having Zach naked and wet and completely free of other distractions did strange things to his sense of ecological responsibility. Thus yet another shower had turned into a heavy makeout session only marginally involving soap.

He loved the feeling of hot water flowing down his body, so much so that he almost didn’t notice one of Zach’s hands drifting down his back, lower and lower until the older man’s fingers were dipping between… Immediately Chris’ brain came back on line and though he consciously tried not to stiffen, Zach felt his discomfort anyway.

“Relax,” Zach whispered, mouthing at Chris’ earlobe. “I just want you to get used to being touched here.”

“I know,” replied Chris, willing the tension out of his body and spreading his legs a little in invitation. “It’s just… weird, is all.”

Zach let his fingers slowly circle Chris’ hole, not pushing in but gently stimulating the delicate skin there. Chris was already so turned on that it felt fantastic, awkwardness aside, and he buried his head in Zach’s neck to focus on the sensation.

“Good?” asked Zach.

Chris grunted his assent against Zach’s skin, slowly starting to rock his hips.

The older man changed his pattern from circling to a simple up-and-down motion in time with Chris’ movements. “There’s nothing dirty or shameful about this,” Zach whispered, and Chris was glad the older man couldn’t see him blush. “It’s just you and me, and whatever feels good, feels good.”

Chris moaned his agreement, rocking a little harder, a little faster into Zach. He didn’t mean to distract the older man, but there again, hotwetnaked Zach short-circuited his higher thought processes. When Zach finally brought his other hand around to encircle both their erections in a hot, slippery, perfect grip, Chris nearly keened with relief.

“So I don’t want you to take this as a reflection on you, but you must have dated some really stupid girls.”

“Not stupid.”

Zach rolled his eyes from his position between Chris’ spread legs.

“Okay, not uniformly stupid. But my type is – was – the sweet, innocent—“

Zach actually cackled at that. “Not the type to stick their fingers up your ass, in other words.”

“Not so much.” Chris relaxed back onto the surfeit of pillows behind him. Those were the last words he spoke for a while, leaning more toward stuttered gasps and moans as Zach bent over his cock and proceeded to drive Chris insane with his mouth.

“Shit, Zach, I’m gonna—“

Zach pulled away, and even though Chris had expected it, that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Chris dug his fingers into the blanket to keep from either reaching for himself or grabbing Zach by the hair and forcing him to finish what he’d started. Zach still had a great deal to teach him about patience.

“Just can’t believe no one’s done this to you before,” Zach muttered almost to himself as he warmed the lube up in his hands. Fortunately, he wasted no time once he was ready, slowly but insistently pressing against Chris’ entrance. “Gotta relax for me, Chris. Think about that time I went down on you in the backseat of that limo, my mouth around your cock, your hand stuffed in your mouth so you wouldn’t moan…”

The words had the desired effect, and Chris relaxed enough to let Zach push a finger into his body, though he couldn’t help but gasp at the intrusion.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, but… fuck, that feels really strange.”

“I know,” said Zach, reaching a slick hand up to pump Chris’ erection, which had flagged a bit from nerves. “It gets better.”

Zach let him adjust before slowly adding a second finger. Chris tried his best not to squirm at the unusual fullness, but once he relaxed, he could kind of start to see how this might, under certain circumstances, feel good.

So he was a little unnerved to open his eyes and see Zach grinning down at him like a deranged Cheshire cat. “What?” he asked. No answer. “What?”

Zach’s grin, if possible, became wider. “Oh, nothing. I just want to make sure I see the look on your face.”

Another question was forming on Chris’ lips when he felt Zach crook his fingers slightly and press up and… And then someone held a blazing match to Chris’ spine, which lit up like a trail of gunpowder. He half-expected the top of his head to blow off and almost looked forward to collapsing dead on the pillows, but Zach was squeezing his cock with one hand while the other kept working its voodoo, and then Chris was coming hard, body wracked with spasms of bone-deep pleasure.

When he could once again muster the will to speak, he moaned “What the fuck?” Or he tried to – it came out as mostly vowels.

Zach’s eyes practically danced with glee. “Chris Pine,” he stated regally, doing a piss-poor job of keeping the laughter out of his voice. “I’d like you to meet your prostate.”

“Son of a bitch.”

&&&

It was a Wednesday. Or maybe a Thursday. Probably Wednesday. The point was, it was just another day of the week. As per usual when they ended up spending the night together, Zach was up first, and Chris woke to the smell of pancakes cooking in the kitchen.

He dragged himself out of bed, knowing that if he wanted bacon he would have to make it himself, since Zach refused to even touch “those slabs of greasy pig fat.” Chris would eventually wear him down; oh yes, he would. The mystical power of bacon was on his side.

It was close quarters with the two of them both at the stove, but it worked. Chris playfully maligned Zach’s pancake-flipping abilities and Zach threatened to withhold the fruits of his labor until Chris apologized, which he did. Mostly with his tongue. Breakfast was a largely quiet affair, punctuated by Chris slurping his juice and Zach admonishing him for slurping his juice, and Chris slurping his juice even louder. Zach washed the dishes and Chris dried – the dishwasher was broken again.

Zach gently reminded him to call a repairman because, dammit, he was not getting dishpan hands because of Chris’ stubbornness, but Chris stopped him with a kiss, surprisingly sweet and tender.

“Tonight,” Chris said.

Zach’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I won’t hold you to it, I mean, if—“

“Tonight,” Chris repeated.

The smile that spread across Zach’s face lit up Chris’ insides like the Vegas strip. “Okay. Tonight.”

There was no way Chris was letting Zach off the hook, not after the day he’d had. It hadn’t been bad – not at all, in fact – but once Chris had spoken to Zach that morning, all he could think about was sex. And not in an “I’m a guy, so I think about sex all the time” way. In a pathological, self-destructive way. He spent a long meeting with his agent trying desperately not to think about Zach bending him over the big mahogany desk. She had figured out something was up, but Chris prayed that she hadn’t identified precisely what, as inexplicable boners tended to complicate working relationships.

By the time he got back home from a full day of meetings and errands, the situation was almost comical. He’d gotten stuck in traffic next to a construction site and in the steady thumping of a nail gun he’d practically felt the rhythm of Zach thrusting into him. Luckily, the gentleman in the car behind him had been kind enough to bring Chris back to reality by leaning on his horn and gesturing enthusiastically.

Once home, he flopped down on the couch and tried to come up with ways to distract himself until Zach got there. He had pretty much narrowed his choices down to a Simpsons marathon or epic masturbation when his cell phone chirped. The text was from Zach:

Fortune favors the bold – I’m done for the day. I’ll pick up food on the way home.

Chris laughed aloud at the image of Zach hunched over his much-hated phone; it had probably taken him half an hour to type that out and included frustrated mutterings like “Milo, where the hell is the emdash on this godforsaken thing?”

He put the nervous energy to work by cleaning. Everything. Nothing in his place was dirty, exactly – not with Zach staying there so often – but he had to do something, so he wiped down the kitchen counters and reorganized the bookshelves. In a fit of sappiness, he even put fresh sheets on the bed, but then reasserted his manly aloofness by flopping down on the bed and rumpling them a bit.

By the time he heard Zach’s key in the door, he was ready to jump out of his skin. It took a large part of his willpower not to run to the door and tackle Zach, and Chris was quite pleased with himself that he waited until after the older man had set the food down before kissing him senseless.

Zach chuckled against the younger man’s mouth. “Been thinking about me?” Chris blissfully hummed an affirmative. “Good. But food first.”

“Zaaa-aaach.”

The older man grinned sinfully. “Gonna need our strength.”

It was all Chris could do not to wolf down his dinner, but he figured heartburn would be a mood killer. Besides, the moment was too good to rush. It was a distinctly odd feeling, knowing exactly what was coming. He didn’t have to flirt or be nervous or try to impress Zach with his stellar wit. Of course, he did all those things anyway, but he didn’t have to – when dinner was finished, when the plates were cleared away and the leftovers packed into the fridge, Chris knew with absolute certainty that Zach would take him by the hand and lead him back to the bedroom.

So he asked about Zach’s day and tried hard to listen to the answer instead of staring at Zach’s lips and imagining the feel of them on his skin. He “accidentally” brushed Zach’s leg under the table and blushed to the tips of his ears at the shamelessly lustful look Zach shot him. The tension was exciting and luscious and Chris almost didn’t want the meal to end. But it had to eventually, and as Chris rinsed the last dish, he felt Zach’s arms wrap around his waist.

“C’mon,” Zach whispered softly into Chris’ ear, and the younger man didn’t bother to hide the shiver that arced down his spine.

It was actually Chris who led Zach back to the bedroom, pausing every few steps for a kiss and a grope until they both stumbled, laughing, into the room. They began a familiar dance – Zach’s hands sliding under the hem of Chris’ shirt. Chris tugging impatiently at Zach’s belt. Zach refusing to stop kissing Chris long enough to take off either of their shirts. Chris teasing Zach about the unnecessary tightness of his pants.

Soon they were both stripped bare and kissing hungrily, still standing in the center of the room. Zach moved to bring them both over to the bed, and for the smallest fraction of a second, Chris hesitated. He couldn’t have said why – he wanted this, wanted it badly – but his body seemed to lag behind his mind. Zach released his mouth to pull back and look him in the eye, and for one terrible moment Chris thought he was going to say something like Are you sure you’re ready? or We don’t have to do this tonight and Chris wasn’t sure he’d have the words to answer.

But Zach merely brought a hand up to cup his face, tracing his thumb over the younger man’s cheekbone. There was so much want in those dark brown eyes that Chris felt his throat tighten and his own eyes start to burn. Zach leaned in to kiss his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, and Chris had never thought that being taken care of could feel so sexy. He felt broken open and defenseless and alive, so he took a shuddery breath, kissed Zach’s cheek and whispered, “Let’s do this.”

Zach grinned one of his luminous, face-splitting grins and walked Chris backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed. The younger man fell backward, pulling Zach on top of him. They wrestled a little for position, Chris wanting to feel the strength of his lover’s body. Soon enough, Zach had him back against the pillows and was working him open with slick, agile fingers.

Chris kept his nerves at bay by focusing on the hungry look in Zach’s eyes, the now familiar press of his fingers. “Talk to me,” Chris moaned.

“Wanted this for so long,” Zach murmured, pressing a kiss to the younger man’s raised knee.

“How long?” Chris was genuinely curious; he knew Zach must have felt something for him before he made his Unusually Decent Proposal (as Zach liked to call it), but they hadn’t talked about it.

“Forever. But I couldn’t let myself want you because I thought you were straight.”

This made Chris grin. “I was straight. When did you change your mind?”

“I think it was around the time you begged me to seduce you.”

Chris struggled to keep up with the conversation as Zach’s fingers kept grazing his prostate. “I don’t recall any – oh, god – begging. And you must’ve thought, uh… thought about it before that.”

“Maybe. A little.”

Chris squirmed giddily. “Tell me.”

“That day in Paris when you spilled coffee on yourself.”

“What?”

“You said your shirt was irrevocably stained.”

“So?”

Zach blushed, like he was getting worked up just over the memory. “Irrevocably. It’s a sexy word.”

Chris felt his heart swell in his chest and he couldn’t keep the laughter inside. “You kinky bastard.” Then Zach met his eyes and Chris felt ready to fall apart. “Zach, I’m ready. Please.”

That was all the encouragement Zach needed. He leaned up to favor Chris with a deep, soul-searching kiss as he removed his fingers. Chris heard him slick himself with lube, then felt something hard and significantly larger than fingers pressing against his entrance. With one last, quick glance, Zach asked for permission, and Chris gave it.

It was more intense than anything Chris had ever felt before, a slow, burning pressure invading his body. He felt the strange sensation of opening to Zach, and that in itself was enough to make him gasp, but then Zach let out a stifled, desperate noise and despite the pain, Chris panted, “More.”

Zach pushed in torturously slowly, Chris’ fingers digging harder and harder into Zach’s shoulders as he went. It felt like being split in two, but above him, Zach was trembling, breath huffing out in quiet little sobs that Chris could feel in his bones, and that made everything worth it. When Zach was finally buried in him to the hilt, body quaking with the effort of holding still, Chris whimpered, “Kiss me.”

The kiss was messy, unfocused, and exactly what Chris needed. He caught a glimpse at Zach’s face and the ache in his body melted away at the vulnerability there, the need and the deep, unspoken love. “Oh, Zach,” whispered Chris. “Please… whatever you want… I’m yours.”

And Chris could feel Zach trying to be gentle, the first few stuttered thrusts and pained gasps. But then Chris yanked Zach’s head down for another kiss and dug his fingers into Zach’s ass and the older man’s resolve broke. That’s when it got good. Zach’s hips pistoned smooth and deep into Chris’ body with all the sensual grace he knew Zach was capable of. The burn eased with each fluid push of Zach’s hips, and when the older man hooked his arm under the small of Chris’ back to change the angle, things went from good to amazing.

Zach was already so close, and with every moan of god, yes, Chris, so good, you feel so fucking good, Chris could hear and feel his control slipping. Chris urged him on, pushing back to meet his thrusts and pleading for more, harder, faster, just more. Zach’s rhythm began to falter and when he finally fell over the edge, he keened Chris’ name into his ear. It was easily the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

Chris held Zach tight as he collapsed upon the younger man’s chest. Chris rubbed a hand across his back, stroked his hair as Zach’s body continued to shudder with pleasure. Chris fully expected him to be out for a while, but soon Zach was rising up on shaky arms, kissing the younger man while carefully pulling out. Chris gasped, suddenly feeling empty where he didn’t know it was possible to feel empty.

The hollowed-out sensation hit him square in the chest, and suddenly Chris couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. He panted awkwardly, wondering vaguely why the hell he was panicking now. But Zach was there, lips soft on Chris’ mouth, his jaw, his throat. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe, Chris. Slow and deep, okay? I’m right here.”

Zach trailed his lips lazily down Chris’ body to his still-hard cock. Chris began breathing hard for a completely different reason when Zach took him deep without any preamble, sucking so hard Chris’ eyes rolled back in his head. With a sharp cry, he came hard down Zach’s throat, all his muscles tensing at once before going completely, utterly boneless.

As Zach crawled back up his body, running his fingertips over every inch of skin he passed, Chris regained the presence of mind to feel like an absolute mess. He was sweaty and kept shaking even as orgasm turned into afterglow. He’d mentally prepared himself for the pain, maybe a bit of awkwardness, but not this utterly anchorless feeling like the crash after an adrenaline rush. Chris clutched Zach gratefully as the older man rubbed his sides, his back, his arms, slowly bringing Chris back to his body. He wanted to say something profound or witty or even just polysyllabic, but all that came out was Zach’s name, and that seemed to be enough.

“Good?” Zach asked, and it was all Chris could do to nod his head. Zach just smiled tenderly, pressing his lips to Chris’ hairline. “It gets even better, I promise.”

“Better than that? How is that possible?”

Zach chuckled against Chris’ forehead. “Let’s revisit that thought in the morning.”

“I’m gonna be sore as a mofo tomorrow, aren’t I?”

“Depends. Just how sore is a mofo, anyway?”

“Pretty sore, if he’s been fo-ing your mo all night.”

“Hey, leave my mo out of this.”

Chris laughed, still a little breathless, and Zach tilted his chin up until their eyes met, suddenly serious. “Chris, that was incredible. It hasn’t been like that… I don’t know if it’s ever been like that. I…” He trailed off.

Chris knew. He wasn’t sure that now was the right time to say it, but he knew. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Zach kissed him then, a slow, meaningful union of lips and hands and bodies that had Chris sinking languidly into sleep. Distantly he felt Zach shift to pull the blanket over both of then, then he finally succumbed to exhaustion and everything faded into the warmth of his body curled against Zach's.

On to part five