star trek rps, zachary quinto // chris pine.
r, because i always use an inappropriate amount of language.
disclaimer, don't own.
for this prompt over at trek_rpf_kink. no angst, just love!
they're ready; they were made for this.
in which chris has a fixation with his mouth and zach has a fixation with chris.
- yours is the first face that i saw; i think i was
blind before i met you. now i don’t know where i am,
i don’t know where i’ve been... but i know where i want to go.
It started over a cup of coffee.
And that was really lame, like an eleven on a scale of one to what the actual fuck, but so true. All in all, it did start with a cup of coffee, but ended with a bang of blockbuster worthy proportions. It makes Zach laugh when he thinks about it, honestly, and then makes him simultaneously cringe when he realizes that he actually fucking laughed out loud. At his own thoughts. But when dealing with matters such as Chris, Zach thinks that totally makes it acceptable. And it did deal with Chris; a whole lot, in fact.
So, it was a cup of coffee. But it was Chris and Zach, too, and the California heat, and Chris’ stupid concentrated face as he sipped his frap-whatever, elegant fingers curling around the cooled parts of the cup, while his mouth flirted dangerously with the plastic straw and, huh.
Zach shifts as the sunlight glints off of his glasses and glances around the small patio; people had begun to litter the streets aimlessly around the coffee shop as traffic ebbed and flowed. Smiling lightly, Zach wipes at the sweat collecting on his brow.
“Why the fuck are we drinking this when it’s like, a hundred degrees out?” Chris harps lightheartedly, the mangled straw slurring his words.
“It’s detrimental to our health, Christopher,” Zach replies, “and besides— caffeine, good.”
It was a lame response and Zach knows it but it makes Chris laugh, so he considers it a win. “Whatever, man,” Chris just says, but his eyes crinkle at the corners a bit.
And yeah, it was whatever, but then Chris proceeds to mouth at his straw enthusiastically which causes it to dribble coffee on his chin, where he tries to clean it up with his tongue, and holy hell, why weren't there any napkins? And oh, wait, there are, he thinks, but in spite of Zach, Chris licks at his bottom lip where a drop of coffee is clinging tantalizingly, tongue curling languorously over the offended spot. Zach stares blankly as Chris sticks a finger between his lips, lapping at the remaining liquid that landed on his hand.
“What?” Chris asks.
“Urghn,” Zach warbles.
Chris merely smiles. “Oh.” Blinding. “Okay.”
After that, Zach begins noticing things. Like the way Chris always has his fingers near or in his mouth, or the way that he always bites his bottom lip after he uses a definite ten point word, or even the way Chris’ tongue always swipes at something that just isn’t there. Mostly, Chris just likes to have things in his mouth or do things with his mouth that leaves Zach feeling uncomfortable and hot. Hanging out, Zach always finds chewed up straws or plastic or pens still wet from the heat of Chris’ mouth, indents left from the strength of his teeth.
It only worsens, and during one particular interview, Zach thinks he's going to maybe one day implode. The interviewer is this little blonde thing that keeps giving them these looks and Zach cannot decide if she just knows what's up when Chris mouths at his knuckle for a consistent five minutes, or if she's just really, really intense.
"So," she intones, "how about that bromance?"
The interviewer, Zach decides, is a little bit of both.
So when Zach starts imagining Chris, and his fingers, and his mouth, and his quirky habits nearly twenty-four-seven, he thinks it's time to throw in the towel.
“You seriously have got to stop doing that, Chris,” Zach tells him one day.
This time, they’re sitting on Zach’s couch watching sitcom reruns and Chris is absentmindedly toying with the drawstring on his pullover. The string is nearly destroyed and almost looks as if Noah had a good run with it, but Chris is slipping it back between his teeth, sucking on the fluffed end and seriously? It makes Zach cave and it should be disgusting, but it’s totally not and he is totally okay with it. Really, really okay with it, actually.
“Stop what?” Chris voice lilts, and he has to be fucking teasing, oh my god.
Zach says as much. Chris smirks and Zach thinks it’s a really good time to wipe that smug look off of his pretty face, “You’re just jealous, dude.”
Zach laughs, “Jealous?”
“Yeah, totally,” Chris continues, “you’re just angry ‘cause you want my hot mouth.”
Oh. Zach pauses, and well, yeah. That could be considered pretty accurate. It’s not like Zach hasn’t tossed the idea around since he first met Chris because, honestly, the guy is grade A material.
“I should be offended,” Chris interrupts, “because you obviously want me for my desirable sexual prowess and not my stellar personality.”
“What?” Zach actually snorts at that one.
“It’s okay, man, I understand. I can take one for the team.” Chris winks and Zach maybe thinks he’s in love.
“Christopher Pine, how did you ever figure out my cunning attempts at coveting your seduction techniques?”
Chris shifts closer on the couch and suddenly they’re touching thigh to thigh, and Chris is reaching for Zach’s hand, and Zach’s breath hitches and Chris’ eyes go all soft and glowy and damnit, Zachary Quinto, glowy is completely not an appropriate usage of the English language, but Chris takes Zach’s fingers and jesus. When his pointer finger slips free from Chris’ mouth, Zach manages a strangled sound, “Quintessentially, uh—” but Chris just pulls closer.
“Zach, shut the fuck up.” Urghn.
When their lips touch, Zach lets out the breath he was holding and slides his hand behind Chris’ head, tugging on the soft strands of hair on the nape of his neck. He feels like he’s finally doing something right and he hopes this won’t be awkward later, but he’s himself, and Chris is Chris, and together they’re both pretty awesome so Zach kind of doubts there’s going to be a problem anytime soon. It's been a long time coming, they’re ready, they were made for this, and with the sounds Chris is making, he’s pretty sure Chris loves it too.
Pulling apart, Chris whispers seriously, “We are so hot.”
Later, they're laying in Zach's bed and Chris is curled around him like an octopus, playing with Zach's fingers, flushed and fucking beautiful and Zach doesn't even comprehend how he got so lucky.
Instead, Zach just smiles, because, yeah, this is pretty awesome.