From a bit of literary flirting that I wrote earlier today, for Backspace chapter 14 or 15 or whatever the hell it’s up to now:
August 16, 2018
2:37 a.m.LLAP: I love the sounds of the crickets in your yard at night.
LLAP: Also.
LLAP: I have eaten the oranges that were on the tree, and which you were probably saving for when you got home.
5:15 a.m.
CP: were they delicious?
5:17 a.m.
LLAP: yes
CP: so sweet?
LLAP: yes
CP: so cold?
LLAP: yes, exactly
CP: you’re a dork, and I forgive you.
LLAP: I really am. And good.
[in case you don’t recognize the poem: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/just-say]
Tag: few words wednesday
Another FWW
From a bit of literary flirting that I wrote earlier today, for Backspace chapter 14 or 15 or whatever the hell it’s up to now:
August 16, 2018
2:37 a.m.
LLAP: I love the sounds of the crickets in your yard at night.
LLAP: Also.
LLAP: I have eaten the oranges that were on the tree, and which you were probably saving for when you got home.
5:15 a.m.
CP: were they delicious?
5:17 a.m.
LLAP: yes
CP: so sweet?
LLAP: yes
CP: so cold?
LLAP: yes, exactly
CP: you’re a dork, and I forgive you.
LLAP: I really am. And good.
[in case you don’t recognize the poem: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/just-say]
Few Words Wednesday
From Backspace… somewhere around chapter 6
10:26 a.m.
LLAP: Do you think it’s strange, the way we
LLAP: Sorry.
10:40 a.m.
CP: The way we what?
LLAP: Nothing, don’t worry about it.
CP: Zach. Spit it out and don’t be such a drama queen. The way we what?
LLAP: The way our conversations feel more real when we’re texting than when we’re together.
LLAP: You were here for a day and a half helping me look at places, and I could have asked you more about Adam, or whomever you’re dating now, or what it’s like to be bi, and I didn’t do any of that. I asked whether you like the black granite kitchen better or the white quartz.
LLAP: But we weren’t always like this, were we? We used to talk about real stuff in person.
CP:…
CP: Well, we used to be in person a lot more. And that granite question was pretty important at the time.
Few (or sort of a lot of) Words Wednesday
The last installment before I actually start posting for Pinto de Mayo, just to show it’s not all fluff.
June 3rd, 2018
7:30 a.m.
LLAP: are you closeted?
CP: JFC it’s too early for this. Good morning to you, too.
LLAP: sorry.
LLAP: Good morning, Christopher. How did you sleep?
CP: Fine until 15 seconds ago.
CP: We’re not having this conversation until I make coffee.
LLAP: That’s fair.
7:38 a.m.
LLAP: Did you fall back asleep?
CP:
CP: two more minutes
LLAP: okay.
LLAP: *the jeopardy song is going through my mind*
CP: shut up, you fucking different-time-zone-asshole.
7:41 a.m.
CP: Okay, I’ve had my first sip. What are you on about?
LLAP: I was searching for you and Adam online.
CP: why??
LLAP: I’ve been up a few hours. Anyway, I think I found him. Dark curly hair? Skinny?
CP: That’s him.
LLAP: Anyway, I found pictures, but no real mention of him, and meanwhile there were blind items probably referring to you about beards and such, and I was just wondering if you were closeted and if that’s why he bailed.
LLAP: Sorry, that came out way more harsh and stalkerish than I intended.
CP: What are you on?
LLAP: Nothing
LLAP: Well, I just had my 5th shot of espresso.
CP: unbelievable.
Few Words Wednesday…a bit late
From Cleaving:
When Zach returned to the bedroom he was confronted with a sight that stopped him in his tracks: Chris, sitting naked and cross-legged on the bed, tuning his guitar. Before he could look up, Zach had his phone out and was snapping a picture.
“That is not going on Instagram.” Chris warned.
“Nope. This is just for me,” Zach said, taking one more with Chris eying him with the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen, even on Chris. The damned iPhone would never capture it. Maybe he’d convince Chris to let him bring the fancy SLR camera to bed later if he promised to abide Chris’ typical nudity clause. “Anyway, I don’t think I want anyone else seeing you like this.”
Chris looked down at himself, noticing all the places the guitar covered, and snorted. “Pretty sure they’ve seen more of me than this on the big screen. Multiple times.”
“True. That parachute scene was a classic. And way more revealing than my ‘Bleary, Hairy Man in Bed’ Instagram series. But I was thinking more of… I don’t know. You sitting naked on the bed, all damp still from the shower, holding your guitar…it somehow seems more revealing than your hairless balls sliding down a windshield.”
Chris shook his head with a laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m not in character at present. And you know… the things we do for quirky little films. Anyway, I really don’t mind your Instagram fetish. I just prefer not to have my face in those things. And I prefer it PG.”
“I’m well aware,” Zach said, sitting on the bed facing Chris. “So, what have you been practicing?”
Chris bit his lip, suddenly shy, which made Zach laugh out loud, considering what they’d just been up to. “Is it sweet?” he asked.
“You’re such an ass,” Chris complained with a smile.
“Yeah, but I’m your ass,” he answered, waving his left hand to show off the ring. “Forever.”
FWW, a bit late
From the last chapter of Cleaving (and the last chapter of Bleary!verse ever):
The car wove through the neighborhood of Oakland and headed downtown, trees and parks giving way to highrises. Zach had been so focused on the ceremony, he honestly had no idea what came next. A few days alone with Chris holed up in a hotel, followed by a few days back at his mom’s. Then he was back to LA and Chris was off to do press for Hours and then he had to clear his schedule and pack for the cottage in Cornwall. And that was exciting, but the idea of flying transcontinental alone with Nathan was a little terrifying. He’d have to call—
“You’re thinking too loud,” Chris said, dropping a kiss on his head.
“I just feel like I’m forgetting something. I haven’t really thought through what happens next, and — oh shit. Our bag. We forgot our clothes.”
“Relax. The room’s actually in Dad’s name. We checked in and dropped everything off on the way in this morning. I’ve got the key cards. We don’t have to worry about the front desk or being recognized.”
Zach sat up, surprised.
“I had a few things to set up. And it was basically on the way. It didn’t make me late for the ceremony,” Chris added.
“What did you have to set up?” Zach asked as the car pulled into a semi-circular drive of a very familiar hotel. “You got us a room here?”
Chris just squeezed his hand and moved to get out of the car, thanking their driver. Zach collected the picnic basket and followed, letting Chris lead him through the doors to the elevator, and then up to the twenty-second floor, and down the hall to a very familiar door.
Chris let them in, and Zach felt a little like he was coming home.
It was the same suite they’d shared the first two weeks of Nathan’s
life, but instead of the common room being covered in bottles and baby
gear and books on what to expect in the first year, every horizontal
surface was scattered with collections of vases holding flowers like those from their
wedding. In the middle of the room, on the round glass dining table
that they had never eaten at when they were here with Nathan, a bottle of Prosecco sat chilling in a silver bucket.
Few Words Wednesday
From Cleaving 8… might want to skip if you haven’t read 7 yet…
“Zach!”
Zach gave himself one last look in the mirror over the sink, smoothing his hair before turning to cross the hall.
“What’s wro—”
He stopped in his tracks, struck by the view of Chris in his suit. The golden tan complemented his coloring perfectly and the cut of the jacket emphasized broad shoulders and narrow hips, and Christ he looked good. Zach was suddenly glad they hadn’t tried to keep the tradition of not seeing each other before the ceremony. Because his reaction? Not something that he’d want to have both their mothers witness. He subtly adjusted himself as he moved forward to where Chris was focused on his own reflection, fingers messing with his collar.
“I can’t get the tie straight,” Chris said. “I don’t want it to look like crap in the pictures.”
Huffing a laugh, Zach nudged Chris’ hands out of the way. “Let me.”
He untied the knot and started again, nimbly fixing the tie while saying with a small smile, “I’m definitely in charge of teaching Nathan how to do this. You have some sort of complex.”
“I can manage when you’re not around, but for some reason if you are, I’m all thumbs.”
“You just like the help,” Zach suggested, making a final adjustment and kissing Chris’ cheek before stepping back. “Better?”
Chris glanced back at the mirror and nodded. “Thanks.” He fiddled with his hair, now, trying to brush the Steve Trevor bangs out of his face and losing the battle with gravity. “I wish I could cut my hair, though,” he added.
“I don’t,” Zach answered simply. “I like the bangs.” He leaned in and whispered, “Gives me something to hang onto later.” Chris’ breath hitched as Zach pulled back. “You look great. Delicious, actually. Perfect.”
Chris eyes roamed his face, relief and love and humor and something more solemn in his expression. “Good. And you, as always… this turned out even better than I’d hoped,” he said, running a finger along his lapel. “I’m so glad you got them. Can you believe in another hour or two—”
The doorbell rang.
“That’ll be your folks to drive you.” He leaned forward and gave
Chris a chaste but lingering kiss. “Better get downstairs before I make
you very, very late.”
Few Words Wednesday
On this darkest of Wednesdays, let there be fluff:
They headed across campus to where the Kresge Theater stood among some older buildings.
“It’s mostly used for music performances now, but during the construction it was shared with the School of Drama, and pretty much all of the Scotch ‘n’ Soda Club productions were done here, too,” Zach explained. The stage was smaller than the new Purnell center, but the theater was beautiful in its way, with wood-paneled walls and curved rows of seats. And was the site of many firsts for Zach, including, he explained, what he considered to be his first really good kiss. He took Chris backstage, behind the white velvet curtain that hid the dark, narrow space that was the scene of that memory, only to have Chris crowd him and kiss him senseless. And that was fine, though after a moment he realized that he would never be able to think of the first memory without appending this one. And that was probably Chris’ intent.
“I didn’t say the best kiss,” Zach managed to whisper with a laugh as Chris took a breath. “Just my first good one.”
Chris’ mouth descended on him again, much to his amusement. The kiss ended a moment later, before things got inappropriately heated.
“Just wanted to make sure,” Chris said with a final nip.
“Like there’s any doubt,” Zach said, steering Chris back toward the wings.
Few Words Wednesday
From Cleaving, Chapter 7…
“It’s really lucky we don’t live in the age of film, because you would have had to change rolls three times already, and this is just our first stop,” Zach teased, fond amusement warming his tone. “Should have brought my book…”
And for that Chris turned the large lens on Zach and snapped a too-close-picture that probably included half his nose and one eye, out of focus.
“See, that right there? That would have been a total waste of film. At least with digital you can just take as many as you want and delete the mistakes.”
“I never delete pictures of you. You know that. Remember last Christmas?”
Zach huffed a laugh, because he did remember last Christmas. And besides the numerous disastrous pictures they took with Nathan and a variety of Santas, there was also a series of pictures Chris had taken in bed Christmas morning, Zach sleep ruffled and bleary and shirtless and not always in focus because they were too close for the lens. But Chris had kept every one.
Few Words Wednesday
From Cleaving 7. And not at all safe for work.
“Oh fuck,” Zach whispered. And as much as he’d been feeling like he did when they first got together —when every touch was new and awkwardly thrilling and every shy glance made his heart race — this didn’t feel like that at all. This was not a Chris who was fumbling after a long hiatus from men… a Chris who was just learning what Zach liked, how to make him weak and desperate. This Chris knew all that, and was putting it to such profoundly effective use at this very moment that Zach had to thread his fingers through Chris’ hair and force his head back, gasping as he watched his cock slip from Chris’ lips and those achingly blue eyes turn up to him in silent question.
He panted a few breaths before whispering, “I’m not going to last if you keep that up. And I want to spend all night with you.”
Chris grinned and kissed Zach’s hip…and then his stomach, his chest, rising until he was could kiss Zach’s mouth and along his jaw to his ear, warm chest pressed against Zach’s.
“I want you to spend all night with me, too. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” Chris nipped at his neck right over his pulse, and Zach’s head fell back against the door again, because fuck. “Seems the best way to make that happen is to ensure you’re nice and relaxed when you start to take me apart.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Zach knew he should protest — something about fairness and being a generous lover — but for the life of him, he could not form the words. And then Chris’ mouth moved against his skin again, and whatever tenuous hold Zach still had on language or thought was utterly shattered.
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