Wordplay as Foreplay: A Pinto Rp

He lays there for a minute after, breathing gradually slowing.  Chris rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, a stupid grin working it's way onto his face.  His whole body is relaxed and he just feels good, better than he's felt in a long time.  "Fuck," he says, and laughs.  He turns his head to look at Zach, his eyes shining.  "I think I needed that."  It's not awkward, Chris realizes.  Not strange.  Nothing has changed between them save for the fact that they're both without clothes on his bed in a hotel room in Moscow, and Zach just gave him one of the better hand jobs he's received in his life. He vaguely wonders what other talents Zach has that Chris has yet to realize and his chest swells with the realization that this is just the beginning.  The beginning of the press tour, the beginning of...them as a real thing.  

He's wanted Chris for so long. He'd found him beautiful from the get-go, but had written him off as your typical California boy. As he got to know Chris though, he realized just how wrong that assumption had been. Their friendship grew over the years, and he found himself being constantly surprised by Chris. His fierce intelligence, his wit, his compassion. Never in his life had Zach had a co-worker, or truthfully a friend, with whom he could discuss anything and everything. From symbolism within Blake's poetry, to Machiavellian ethics, to government apathy in Myanmar. It was in discovering this combination of truly endless beauty and brains that Zach first realized that he was in trouble.

A year ago he dared hope that this moment would happen, but after the events in New York he'd carefully closed off any thought of it. It had been too difficult to let his thoughts dwell on something so unattainable. But, it seems, the constant surprise that is Christopher Whitelaw Pine struck again.

Feeling slightly more collected Zach reaches his hand between them to move with Chris'. His other arm supports his weight, with an elbow on the mattress next to Chris' shoulder, and a hand idly running fingers through Chris' hair. He kisses up that strong jaw, back to lips that are parted slightly when he arrives. The kiss is softer now, a sharp contrast to their hands which have picked up pace as they stoke together. Zach can feel himself getting close and thinks that from the quickened breaths and moans that Chris is too.

He takes one last moment to remember every detail, opening his eyes to watch the flush on Chris' face deepen. He tries to take in every sensation, the feel of Chris' hard, perspiring body beneath him, of his fingers wrapped around them. It all just feels so right.

"Hey, man, it's fine.  Really I just needed to--yeah.  I just needed a sec, that's all."  

He brings Zach's thumb into his mouth for a fraction of a second, bites down before releasing it.  He still wants Zach, that fact is clear in both his mind and the aching hardness between his legs.  He just needed a second to breathe.  At Zach's words he lets out a small laugh.  "I do tend to have that effect on people.  It's okay, really."  Chris takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, inching forward back to the heat radiating from Zach's body.  

Chris's heart starts that frantic beating again when Zach kisses his hands and he swallows, unsure of how to react.  Zach is touching him as if he might break, looking at him like he's somehow something special.  Chris can't remember a time when anyone ever looked at him like that, and suddenly his throat feels tight but his chest swells with something Chris isn't sure he's ready to accept. 

Nodding at the other man's words, Chris pushes his hips forward again to meet Zach's.  "Of course," he whispers, a little breathlessly this time.  "But I trust you."  When the words leave his mouth he knows that he means them completely.  With all that's been happening to him in the past few years, the fame, the press conferences, the paparazzi, Zach has always been there like an anchor keeping him grounded.  The realization startles him slightly and he looks at Zach as if for the first time.  "I trust you," he repeats, and brings their mouths together again.  

He feels terrible. The last thing he wants to do is rush Chris into something he's not ready for. Slow it down, he thinks. We have time, there's no rush.

Zach takes a minute to get his bearings and turns his body, so he's facing Chris on the bed. He can see that Chris has relaxed a bit, encourages him to mimic his position and they watch one another silently for several minutes, faces and bodies close, but not touching.

He lifts a hand and lightly brushes Chris' cheek, runs his thumb over his bottom lip. "I'm sorry. I lost a bit of self control when you gave me those bedroom eyes..." he laughs softly, hoping to ease the tension that has fallen around them. It seems to work as he senses Chris' anxiety lifting little by little.

Slow. Keep it slow.

Zach nudges Chris' knee with his own before tangling their legs together from knees to toes. He then brings his hand from Chris' face to lift his hand from where it's resting on the mattress between them. He lightly and slowly traces it with his own fingers before bringing it to his lips and placing soft kisses on the pad of each digit. When he's done he entwines their fingers and rests them together back on the mattress between them.

He pulls away from Zach and looks down at the two of their bodies flush together.  "Zach," he pants, "Zach."  It's a strange feeling building inside him, anxiety and arousal mixing in his stomach and chest.  He's not sure about any of this anymore and Zach's cock is hard and thick and right there rubbing against his and Chris has never seen another male dick like this before, save for an accident he had walking in on his roommate Berkeley, but Chris can't deny that what's happening right now, yeah, it's pretty hot.  

He felt the heat of hands running over the bare skin of his back and sides and decided that there was far too much clothing on both of them right now. He breaks apart from Chris' lips and leans back on his heels. When he notices the slight look of panic on the other mans face he gives a reassuring smile before pulling his shirt over his head. He then tugs lightly on Chris' arms, pulling him forward from the headboard and reaching to pull his shirt up and off.

He pulls Chris forward by the hips, allowing them to lay down flat on the bed when he leans in to resume their kissing. Chris' lips are soft and Zach can't help the moan that escapes when Chris' back hits the mattress and their flushed chests are pressed together. He shifts his hips once more and rubs his now throbbing erection into Chris' matching one. He feels Chris tense a bit at the sensation and goes back to focusing on the kissing.

When Chris is once again relaxed under him, Zach begins kissing along his jaw, murmuring things like "God, you're beautiful" and "waited so long for this". He moves slowly down Chris' neck to his chest taking note of every reaction as he goes: A soft giggle at the base of the ear, a slight moan at the clavicle, an enthusiastic hip thrust at the nipple.

When Zach's lips meet the gorgeous convex of Chris' hip bone he brings his hands down to run along the hard line straining against denim. This earns him a more desperate moan and a tug from the hands running through his hair, making him smile. He carefully unhooks the button, and once again runs his hand over Chris as he unzips them, before slowly tugging down, along with Chris' boxer briefs.

Zach's body on top of him is firm pressure and Chris finds that he doesn't mind letting the other man take control.  He presses his hips upwards into Zach's, the heat of it makes him groan softly.  Running his hand down Zach's back, he clutches at his shirt until he can push his hands up underneath and run his hands over the lean muscle.  Zach's lips are soft and Chris opens his mouth, slips his tongue out to meet Zach's.  

But then Zach says something about needing to talk and Chris suddenly finds himself sitting on the bed and anticipating something that's going to be very unsexy.  He stares dumbly at Zach, unable to think about anything other than kissing Zach and the hardness in his pants.  And Chris doesn't want to talk about things.  He doesn't want to have to think about what's going on inside his head.  Chris feels like a five year old being lectured by his parents and he grimaces.  He's a goddamn adult and he doesn't need Zach telling him--wait, what? 

Zach's words are loaded and weren't what Chris had been expecting.  This whole thing wasn't ending up the way he thought it would and the panic is swelling back in his chest.  Chris wants to follow his first instinct, which is to bolt but he realizes that unless he wants to officially be the biggest asshole then he needs to sort things out.  

"Hey, Zach.  Can you at least sit down?  You're making me nervous, buddy."  Once Zach is seated next to him on the bed, Chris scoots up so he can sit cross legged against the headboard, tucking the pillows behind his back.  

However, he is currently finding himself wedged tightly between a hard body and the back a hotel room door. Chris has a hand on his hip, bringing them flush together, and another on his face while he kisses the hell out of him. Zach is still slightly startled, so his arms lay limply at his sides. He can feel a heat starting to pool low in his belly though and it's enough of a jolt to bring him back to himself.

The plan, right, The Plan.

He runs his hands up Chris' sides and deepens the kiss for a moment (he is only human) before pushing lightly against Chris' chest. Their lips part slowly and they stay close for a little longer, absorbing the others body heat and breathing the same air.

Zach's eyes are still closed when he softly says "the plan" aloud and he imagines Chris giving him a questioning look. He walks them further into the room towards the bed. "Sit" he says firmly, and Chris does, still looking both hazy and flushed from their kissing. Zach then takes a few steps back and leans against a dresser. He crosses his arms across his chest and takes a deep breath.

"I need you to talk to me Chris. I need to know what's going on in that beautiful head of yours."

Because the truth is is that Zach hasn't a clue. He knows Chris is scared, but that he's ready to face that fear. For him. And truth be told, that simple fact scares Zach shitless. He doesn't want to dive in too quickly and spook Chris, overwhelm him. But he doesn't want to go too slow either, with not knowing what Chris is ready for. He figures Chris is going to need a nudge here and there to be able to step outside his comfort zone, and Zach is perfectly willing to take on the responsibility. But, he needs a little guidance.

Chris remains silent and Zach can feel a slight surge of frustration emerge. Whether it's at Chris, himself, or the situation, he can't say.

"Okay, look: I'm crazy about you. Hell, in the last few months I've started to think that I'm actually, probably, in love with you. So, this" he gestures between them, "I need to make sure we do this right. That we don't completely fuck it up over a misunderstanding or something equally ridiculous. Because this is just too important for me to let that happen. You're too important."

Chris’s heart nearly stops and he thinks that there’s still time for Zach to say no, to laugh it off and tell Chris the hundreds of reasons why they shouldn’t and just forget it.  Then Zach raises his hand and he touches Chris’s face in a gesture so gentle his heart instead begins beating so fast Chris thinks it might beat right out of his chest.  He leans ever so slightly into the touch before taking Zach’s wrist and pulling his hand down.  Glancing around the plane to make sure no one had seen, Chris then grins back, suddenly so light he feels as if he could float the rest of the way to Moscow.  

“So I’m guessing that means you’re not mad at me?”  His hand remains on Zach’s wrist, unable to let go.  Chris feels bold, and he intertwines his fingers with Zach’s.  It feels so normal and Chris takes this as a sign that yeah, everything is a bit confusing but if holding Zach’s hand is what feels good, then he must be doing something right.  

They chat on and off during the rest of the plane ride; Zach sleeps through a lot of it and for the first time Chris actively considers how this situation had been affecting Zach.  He’s been caught up in his own mixed feelings and questions and the whole gay thing that he hadn’t really thought about how his actions messed with Zach’s head.  Chris is too worked up to sleep more than a few hours on and off and he spends some of the time wandering around the plane and visiting with his friends. 

When they finally land, Chris is antsier than ever.  Everything just seems so much more interesting and they finally have a night off, even if they have an early call the next morning.  On the ride to the hotel, Chris sits closer to Zach in the car than is necessary and the heat of Zach’s thigh against his sends welcome warmth coursing through him.  He’s a bit disappointed to learn that their rooms are on different floors again, but he stops Zach before the other man exits the elevator with a hand on his arm. 

“Come to my room in an hour, okay?”  He releases Zach’s arm and grins at him before the door closes behind him. 

Chris isn’t really sure that’s a good idea, considering his tendency to overthink things in the heat of the moment, but he’s determined to shut his damn brain off for the time being and just let himself feel.  After he’s rearranged the room three or four times, brushed his teeth, washed his face, Chris is pacing the room waiting for Zach.  And then he hears a resonant knock, and Chris’s eyes stare at the door, anticipation welling in his stomach. 

Back in New York he'd played it cool, and thinking back he has no idea how he'd managed it. In the past several months he'd come to realize just how intense his longing for Chris was, so as the press tour approached he did everything he could to build up a steel fortress around his heart. Unfortunately the foundation was flawed and the whole thing began to crumble the moment Chris' lips moved against his on the beach. The days that followed were emotionally draining. To sit there and pretend that nothing had happened, Zach thought there could be nothing worse. Well, he thought that until this moment.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And another.

When he thinks he's grounded enough, he brings himself back and looks towards Chris. He's met with nervousness and an almost pleading expression on the other mans face. Please, please don't ask me to forget everything we've been through... Zach thinks. He's honestly not sure such a thing would be possible at this point.

Chris starts and stops before he finally begins speaking. Zach listens and hears all the things one would expect when being rejected: Chris is sorry for freaking out. He was a jackass. He thinks Zach is mad at him. He's confused. He wants to give it a shot. They can just--- Wait, what?

Zach shakes his head. That can't be right. "I think I’m ready to do it for real, if you want." He plays the sentence over in his head. He stares dumbly at Chris, who is staring at his own hands. Zach quickly replays Chris' apology over in his mind and realizes that it is possible that he jumped to the wrong conclusion. Or did he? The mixture of sleep deprivation, emotional exhaustion, and oppressive self doubt leave Zach unsure.

"Do you.." He stumbles a bit, takes another deep breath, collects himself. "When you say 'do it for real', do... Um, do you mean 'us'?"

“Uh.”  It wasn’t the best start to the apology he’d spent the last few days concocting in his head, but Chris runs a hand through his hair and tries again.  “I didn’t mean to freak out on you when, y’know.”  Chris shifts in his seat and realizes this is the first time either of them have directly addressed whatever it was that was happening between them. 

They were flying from Sydney to Dubai, a 14 hour journey. And then 6 hours from Dubai to Moscow, plus the 4 hour layover between. The day could quite literally not be any longer.

He arrived at the seat and gave Chris a tight-lipped smile and a nod before settling in. The first hour or so passed uneventfully, and then he notices Chris shuffling around in his carry on. A few moments later something is shifted into his eye line and there's a nudge on his shoulder.

He looks up and is meant with Chris' smirk, and looks back down at the Hangman game that his been set up on the paper. He laughs softly and smiles, turning his body towards Chris and the table set between their seats.

Chris had been spending so much time feeling guilty about what happened on the beach that he found himself unable to enjoy anything they did in Sidney.  He simply went through the motions, flashing smiles, chatting about Kirk’s character arc.  Even finding creative ways to incorporate the vocabulary lacked the excitement it used to have.  But Chris was nothing if not an actor, and he faked it as best he could.  He must have been doing a decent job because no one asked him questions.  The only thing he received were glances from Zach every so often and Chris wasn’t stupid.  He knew he’d fucked up. 

He didn’t mean to do this to Zach, he really didn’t.  It was just that every time he found himself feeling too comfortable with everything it was like some alarm went off in his head.  A glaring red alarm that screamed the word “hetero” repeatedly in his brain.  But every day Chris wasn’t sure he was so heterosexual anymore.  Maybe he was bisexual.  Or maybe he just liked Zach.  Whatever this was called, it scared the shit out of him and kept him up at night, and the only way Chris knew how to deal with it was act like an asshole about everything, apparently.     

The remaining time in Sydney had been awkward and even that was a bit of an understatement.  The secure feeling he’d felt when they’d first landed was replaced with confusion and guilt, and Chris can’t stand it anymore.  And now, on top of everything, he’s seated next to Zach on the plane ride to Moscow.  Perfect.  The knot in his stomach grows with every second of silence between them and Chris sighs in resignation. 

Tearing off a piece of paper from a notebook in his carryon, he scribbles the blanks for a two word phrase and the empty hangman noose and hands the paper to Zach with a light nudge to the shoulder. 

Zach stays sitting there on the beach until the sun has completely set and the air around him begins to feel cool against his skin. He doesn't want to be frustrated with Chris, but he can't help but feel like he's back standing on that street corner in New York City all those months ago.

They'd spent the evening in the back of that West Village bar talking easily about everything and nothing. Late into the night they broached the subject they'd both been dancing around: Them. Chris had talked about how confused he was by his own feelings, how scared he was. Zach responded the only way he could, telling Chris that they didn't have to mean anything if he didn't want them to. That he could live with going back to what they were. He thought at the time that it was true, but of course knows now that the reality wasn't quite so simple.

That night had ended much like this one. As they neared Chris' hotel Zach felt himself being halted by a strong hand on his forearm. He turned and watched as Chris contemplated his next move. Zach could sense the inner conflict and remained silent. He had fully expected Chris to throw out a quick "nevermind", but instead the other man stepped towards him, hesitantly bringing that hand from Zach's forearm to his chest. He was so surprised by that move that he didn't have time to register Chris' further movement of bringing their lips together. That kiss wasn't like tonight's. It was heady and raw and a little desperate. And it lasted much longer than it should have considering where they had been standing. It also broke off abruptly when Chris' mind finally caught up with his body, and he quickly spit out a bullshit excuse and bolted.

Things were awkward after that. The texts became less frequent, the phone calls even more so. They didn't meet up when Zach got back to LA. He heard through friends when Chris and Dom split, just as he's sure Chris heard about him and Jon. He knew that Joe had invited Chris to the farewell party that was thrown before he moved to New York. And he pretended not to be heartbroken when Chris didn't come.

He snaps himself back to reality, running his hands over face. There's so much he wants to tell Chris, but he's not sure he can. The last thing he wants is to scare Chris more than he already is, which is why even that night in New York he'd kept any talk of his feelings to a minimum. The thought of putting himself out there like that only to have Chris realize that he's actually not that cool with the idea of them, is fucking terrifying. And given that the current track record is 0 for 2, Zach doesn't have much confidence in it going any other way.

He lets out a sigh and stands before turning around to head back to the hotel. He skips dinner, showers, and goes to bed at 9pm, blaming jet lag rather then depression. It's easier that way.

When he sees Chris the next morning he puts all of his energy into a cool facade. They have a full day of interviews ahead of them, so he simply pretends that the beach didn't happen and nothing has changed. The first couple of interviews are a little off, but after Marla comes over during a short break with a grin and JJ's vocab list they quickly find their footing and fall easily into their usual competitive banter.

The rest of their time in Sydney is spent in press conferences, photo shoots, more interviews, and eventually the premiere. It's exhausting but Zach is thankful for the lack of free time. On their fourth, and last, night in Sydney he's relieved when a knock on his door reveals the smiling faces of Zoe and Alice. They are dressed to kill and inform him that he will be accompanying them to a club. He drinks and dances and returns some mild flirting that is directed his way, if only for the slight ego boost it brings him.

So when Zach pulls away, Chris’s breath comes a bit faster than he’d like, his heart racing in his chest.  The world comes crashing down around him and the anxiety hits as he realizes that yes, he does want this and yes, continuing would be more than okay.  But something stops him.  Maybe it’s the firm grip on the back of his neck that jolts him back to reality but Chris realizes he can’t stay here.  His head is buzzing with a million and one thoughts and he can’t.  He just can’t.  

He jerks away and attempts to arrange his face into something other than the panic and confusion swelling in his chest.  Chris pushes himself up, stumbling a bit on the uneven sand and runs a hand through his hair.