“Wait…what?” Zach lifts up on his elbows and pushes Chris back, just enough to see his face. “You can’t…Okay, please put your penis away for a sec, so I can think.”
Chris sits back on his heels, obediently pulling the blanket across his lap. It doesn’t help. His torso is still on display, not to mention his fucking face, complete with those smile lines Zach adores, and how is he supposed to have this conversation right now?
“Did you really just ask me to move in with you?”
Chris lifts one shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. “Why shouldn’t you?”
It’s too soon. They haven’t defined what this is yet. It’s too much change at once. And it’s definitely not the kind of decision to make mid-hookup, when Zach is still so blown away by the idea of having Chris in his bed again that he can’t be expected to have a single rational thought in his head.
“It’ll save you from having to look for a house in LA,” Chris goes on, oblivious to Zach’s inner struggle, “and I have plenty of room.”
“But you…but we…”
Chris leans forward, the blanket slipping down his thighs until Zach clears his throat and gestures meaningfully with his chin, making him grab it and pull it back up again with a roll of his eyes. He keeps clutching it as he leans in far enough to press his lips to Zach’s jaw, then his cheek. Zach would point out that he’s obeying the letter of the law but not the spirit, but he seems to have temporarily lost his voice.
“We can do whatever we want, Zach,” Chris says against his skin, then kisses the corner of his mouth. “And I want to live with you.”
Later, Zach might wonder what he was thinking. Later, this might be a problem. But right now, he’s finding it hard to care. “Okay,” he says, his arms curling around Chris’s back to hold him close. He can feel Chris’s smile buried against his neck, and he can’t help but smile himself as he says again, “Okay. Yes.”
Pinto beans! I’m not even apologizing for this frankly awful wordplay.
“I think we make a good team,” Kirk tells his first officer.
In a perfectly Vulcan way, Spock betrays no emotion whatsoever and yet, in a perfectly Spock way, we can still tell that he’s pretty happy about the Captain’s comment.
“I believe we do,” he says.
Footage shown at the Star Trek fan event (via ComingSoon.net)
Here you go, bb! I’m so sorry for the long wait – I’ve been having writing issues lately. Huge thanks to @semperama for once again chasing my demons away. <333
Zach had discovered pretty quickly that
Chris was a blusher. He’d seen him blush in all manner of situations, quite a
few of which he’d instigated himself. It had become a bit of a game, actually, especially
across the Trek press tours. Every so often, Zach would get a question about
Chris, and he would happily launch into a tale of such ardent respect and
admiration, that Chris would be almost glowing by the end. The open or low cut
shirts Chris often wore only revealed more flushed skin.
Then there were the more random
opportunities—like the time he’d been passing Chris on the red carpet at some
promotional event for Into Darkness and, in the spur of the moment, murmured
that he smelled good. Zach hadn’t needed to look back to know that he’d
succeeded, confirmed later by Chris once again declaring him an asshole.
“I’m sure your fans would thank me,” Zach
replied easily, swigging from a bottle of water. “What are they called again?
Pine nuts?”
“Leave my pine nuts out of this.”
“Well, there goes my evening,” Zach said
with a wink, grinning triumphantly as the blush returned in full force.
And when they finally ended up tumbling
into bed together, Chris’ face had flushed the moment Zach whispered how gorgeous
he was.
“Oh my god,” Zach exclaimed, unable to keep
from grinning. “You’re blushing already?”
“Shut up!”
“No, it’s adorable,” Zach replied, kissing
Chris’ scowl away. “How far down does this thing go anyway?” he added, starting
on the buttons of Chris’ wrinkled shirt. “I’ve always wanted to know.”
Chris shoved him away, playfully indignant.
“You are such an asshole.”
“So I’ve been told,” Zach said easily,
kissing his way down Chris’ chest as the shirt was steadily unbuttoned. “Many
times.” Another kiss. “Mostly by you.”
Chris’ huff turned almost instantly into a
gasp as Zach caught his nipple between his lips. Zach grinned against his
heated skin, swiping his tongue across the hardening bud while his fingers
released the final button of Chris’ shirt.
“Whoa,” he exclaimed, opening the shirt
fully.
“What?” Chris frowned, immediately lifting
his head to look, as if he was scared that Zach had found something bad.
Zach shook his head slowly, still gazing in
wonder. “Yours really is the blush that keeps on giving.”
“Oh my god, you fucker!”
“I believe that is the general idea,” Zach quipped, smug grin firmly in place as he
dodged another shove to his shoulder.
His victory was short lived, though; the
next moment, he found himself flat on his back, effectively pinned down by an
even more flushed Chris, whose eyes appeared even more blue in contrast.
“Remind me again why I even talk to you.”
Without a word, Zach reached up to curl a
hand around Chris’ neck and yanked him down to meet his lips. Chris apparently
approved of that answer, because his indignation melted away within seconds,
hunger taking over once again.
The teasing took a backseat after that—Zach
was occupied with far more pleasurable things. He did, however, learn that
Chris’ blush really did go all the
way down.
“And what was that one?” Scotty asks, having to take the spanner out of
his mouth so he was speaking clearly.
“Orion. A greeting for Elders,” Uhura explains before moving onto her
next phrase. This was their thing now. Uhura would come down to engineering and
go over any and every language of the Federation while Scotty worked on the
engines, or fixed up broken replicators, or even just tinkered with spare
parts. Uhura found it better than practicing alone, and Monty always assured her
that he enjoyed her company, even though he didn’t always understand what she
was saying.
Sometimes, Uhura used this to her advantage.
“When you’re inventing your eyes are
so bright, like the stars.”
He looks up from his task, silently asking her which language it was.
“You have something on your face,”
she tells him, amused. “Those were both in Andorian.”
“Ah,” he says, nodding sagely. She giggles, knowing he still did not
understand any of it. Scotty gazes at her fondly, he had been smitten with the
sound of her laughter from the beginning and was always happy when he was the
cause of it. “You have no idea how much I
love you,” he murmurs.
Uhura’s laughter is cut short as for a second she thinks she has been
caught out, that he had known about all the things she said to him during these
times. But that was not it. It was Monty simply not knowing that she had been
secretly learning Scottish Gaelic for him. With a slow smile, she responds in
the same language.
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