Current mood:	sick
Entry tags:	genre: established relationship, pairing: zach/chris, rating: nc-17, response: kink meme

Not Even Our Troubles
[Disclaimer] I do not own the people contained within nor do the events follow any event in reality.
[Title] Not Even Our Troubles
[Rating] NC-17
[Summary] He moved to turn off the alarm, just as Zach slammed through the door causing Noah to let out a bark and Chris to jump.
[Notes] Written for this prompt at the trek_rpf_kink meme.

If you can attain repose and calm
Chris looked over the dining room table, admiring his handiwork. Shining silverware scavenged and polished from the utensil drawer was arranged next to the simple white china he'd brought from his own house, a bowl of angel hair pasta a top the plate. Wine glasses stood beside water glasses; the bottle of wine remained in the fridge, waiting for Zach's arrival home.

Behind him the clock over the television chimed, set to annoy Zach about the time until he dragged himself up to bed, only it was the end of Heroes shooting schedule, the last day of filming for the season. The cast had collectively agreed on the wrap party being held the following night, knowing the last day was going to be hellish and Chris was unabashedly appreciative of that – Zach had already called to say that Chris might want to clear out of the house for the night to avoid his horrific mood brought on by “fucking directors with no fucking concept of fucking reality” (whatever the hell that meant) and castmates who couldn't stop talking about summer projects.

He moved to turn off the alarm, just as Zach slammed through the door causing Noah to let out a bark and Chris to jump. Harold, sleeping in the armchair, only opened one eye to see who had created such a racket.

“Fucking moronic... Do you know how stupid humanity is on the whole?” Zach declared by way of greeting. “I swear, it was like a parade of idiocy on set and then driving home, every fucking dimwit in the country just had to be on the highway. It's a goddamn fucking conspiracy...”

Chris' laughter cut him off, blue eyes sparkling with amusement and instantly taking the edge of Zach's rage. It was rare for Zach to go off on an angry tangent, a rant, but when he did, Chris was always entertained by the gentle red flush of his lover's cheeks, the way his tongue hit the back of his teeth causing him to lisp some words, the arousal that was hinted under the words. The annoyance, or maybe it was the frustration, inevitably sparked something in Zach that made for a great night in bed – once Chris had calmed him down enough.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” Zach muttered, wandering toward the staircase and their bedroom with Noah on his heels. He changed out of his jeans and shed the button down, keeping the undershirt to wear with the blue plaid lounge pants he'd snatched out of his pajama drawer, while Chris went about getting Noah and Harold's dinner ready, humming to himself.

It was the best part of the day, in Chris' mind at least, when they were home together, just being a normal couple – taking care of the animals, eating dinner, and bickering over whose turn it was to do the laundry – and he relished the sound of Zach tripping over Noah, the slap of the hamper lid as it closed. He wondered sometimes if Zach enjoyed it too, but he'd never asked and doubted he ever would.

“Noah!” he yelled as he set down the stainless steel bowl in the elevated holder, then called Harold in, lifting the cat up onto the window platform to eat without canine interference. Chris then turned to the simmering tomato sauce on the stove and doled out several ladles-worth into the matching china gravy boat he'd brought, setting it down on the table and sliding into his seat before drawing his legs up and crossing them.

Zach returned as if on cue, letting out a little noise of pleasure at the sight before him – Chris in sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, lit only by the dim glow of the dining room's adjustable hanging lamp, with a simple dinner. “I love you,” he declared, humor in his voice as the last vestiges of his upset peeled away and he was left with only the irritating strain in his shoulders.

“Ha, you only love me for my body,” Chris grinned back, remembering suddenly the forgotten bottle of wine in the refrigerator and quickly shifting to get it. He quickly popped the cork once he had it in hand and, flicking the switch to the kitchen lights off as he walked by, moved back to the table to pour out two glasses of Merlot.

They ate in relative silence, content with each others company rather than to fill the time between bites with talk of inconsequential things. Oh there were a few snickers when Noah pushed his head into Chris' lap and licked at the drop of sauce that had fallen onto his pants, Chris blushing as he pushed the dog's head away, but that was it. A little smile here, a stolen touch there; Zach got up to put his plate in the sink and kissed his lover, one hand threaded into Chris' sandy-blond hair.

“Meet you upstairs?” Chris asked, a little breathless when Zach pulled back.

Quinto plunked the plates back onto the table, responding, “Race you.”

Believe that you have seized happiness
They were laughing by the time they hit the bed, Zach on his stomach while Chris crawled over him on hands and knees, until he was straddling Zach's hips and his hands were sliding over tense skin. Thankfully it was also an unspoken rule that the last one onto the bed wasn't the “loser” of the race – the last one undressed was, so they'd both been stripped of pants and boxers moments before they'd crossed the threshold of the room.

Zach let out a soft moan, wrapping his arms around a pillow, when Chris dug his fingers into a particularly hard knot at the base of the man's neck. “Oh, god, baby,” he muttered as he went lax against their comforter; the scent of sandalwood bled into the air and when Chris put his oil-slicked hands back on him, he moaned again, this time telling his lover, “Feels so good.”

“I know you love the show, but I'm glad you're on summer hiatus,” Chris admitted when he found another spot, mid-way down Zach's spine, that had to be annoyingly uncomfortable. It'd been everyday for the last week that his lover had arrived home, sore and grousing about something or someone, and Chris had noticed the escalating upset as each day had passed, culminating in this: the corded muscles in Zach's body gradually growing less tense under Chris' hands, the agitating finally evaporating in the quiet of their bedroom while pleasantly filled bellies gave both the energy for what each hoped would come after the massage.

Ten minutes, fifteen, Chris worked, thankful yet disappointed when Zach started to drift off. “Hey, you want me to stop?” he asked in a whisper, ready to concede a night of sex to sleep if that's what Zach needed, though he was less than thrilled at the prospect.

“Only if you're planning on needing those hands to fuck me,” Zach replied, face still buried in his pillow. He shifted under Chris, easing his legs apart and canting his hips up toward his lover who settled between his thighs happily.

It was rare for Zach to bottom; he tended to prefer watching Chris as he slowly lost control, as he writhed and grunted around him and begged for more, harder, faster. “You sure?” he asked as one hand strayed lower, over his lover's back to the swell of his ass, stopping there to rub a thumb over Zach's hole.

“Wouldn't be laying here like this if I wasn't.” Casting a look over his shoulder, Zach smirked and added, “Come on, babe, I want to feel you.”

Chris grinned back and leaned up to kiss the other man, nuzzling behind his ear while he reached for the lube they kept on the nightstand. “Going to fuck you deep, Zach. And hard, so every minute of that party tomorrow, you're thinking about what we did tonight,” he murmured once he popped the cap open and slicked his fingers, sliding one inside Zach. “I want you to feel this when you're standing with Hayden and Milo and Masi.”

Zach couldn't find the proper words to respond – Chris was never as... verbose as he was being at that moment – and it was too arousing. He jerkily shoved one hand to his dick, pulling down on his balls sharply, and declared, “Forget the prep, Chris, please.”

“No,” Pine countered, adding a second finger, gently scissoring the muscle and kissed Zach's neck as his lover pushed back, on to that maddening hand.

A third was added a minute later and then Chris was moving, both hands coming to rest on either side of Zach's head, and pressing into him, slick and warm. “God, I love you,” he murmured into the tight skin under his mouth, licking at a damp patch for a moment to give Zach time to adjust.

It took considerable willpower to hold back when Zach spread his legs wider, pulling them up until his knees were slightly under him, then Zach told him, “Love you too, babe,” and Chris couldn't have stopped if he tried. Slowly at first, he thrust into the man beneath him, reveling in the feel of willing flesh, until slow was no longer pleasing and Zach told him, “More, Chris.”

He fell into a rhythm then, pulling out and circling his hips as he pushed back in; they both moaned when Zach clenched around him, hands drifting over arms and necks, sides and lips. Chris kissed down the back of his lover's neck, nipping at spots that made Zach arch up.

“You're beautiful, you know,” Chris whispered when the head of his dick brushed over Zach's prostate, earning himself a gasp.

“Not beautiful,” Zach tossed back in a low growl.

“You are. You're beautiful with those eyes and that mouth and that big brain.” Chris sucked one earlobe into his mouth for a second, getting himself another grunt of pleasure, “And you're beautiful when you throw yourself into a project – the way you concentrate on the script like it's the meaning of life, the way you fill a role like you'd done it a thousand times before. It's beautiful, Zach,” and Chris reached around for Zach's dick, stroking over the head and dipping a nail in the slit.

Zach's eyes fluttered closed at that last touch and came over Chris' hand, feeling the other man go taut a handful of thrusts later. Chris came with a yell, panting through the aftershocks as he collapsed onto his lover's back. “Seriously, I love you,” he muttered when he'd gathered his faculties enough to pull out of Zach and roll to the side.

“Seriously, I love you too,” Zach said as he settled a hand onto Chris' back, turning to face him before kissing the drowsy man on the lips and telling him, “And I am so telling Karl that you called me beautiful.”