Log in

No account? Create an account
13 September 2009 @ 02:21 am
Protocol 1/1  
Title: Protocol
Pairing: Zach/Chris
Rating: PG-13, I guess?
Wordcount: ~1,300
Disclaimer: Never happened. People and copyrights mentioned belong to their respective owners.
Summary: Milestones tend to accompany unexpected, unorthodox visits.
Warnings: Dialogue-heavy, swearing, innuendo.
A/N: This is my first time posting anything I've written for this fandom. Actually, it's my first time posting anything I've written in general in a long, long time. I seriously have no idea where this came from, but once I have ideas, I can never ignore them. I apologize for this mess.


There are some things one never considers when giving a friend a house key. This is mostly because these things never have to be considered. The reasons behind the key itself are generally straightforward; emergencies, locked out, plans, et cetera. Ridiculous situations are never at the front of anyone's mind when they hand over keys. No concerns.

Leave it to Chris Pine to fuck that rule right up.

It's nothing incriminating or gross or anything, so it doesn't make sense that it's so damn shocking. Chris is simply seated criss-cross applesauce on the couch, a bowl of Cap'n Crunch (his only vice) in hand and a Schoolhouse Rock DVD playing on the TV.

"What's your function?" He asks, refusing to tear his eyes from the screen.

"How hard," Zach pauses to let Chris snort at the word choice, "would it have been to tell me that you were inviting yourself over?"

"We're still at the notification and invitation stage? Dude, what the fuck?"

"That's how it generally goes."

"Status quo isn't my thing."

"Yeah," Zach murmurs, hands restless in his pockets, "but it's not like I know you're going to pop up when you do."

"You make erection jokes too easy."

"I also lack in the Spidey Sense department. Forgive me."

"No, it's okay," Chris says with a quick shake of his head, "I like you the way you are."


The second time it happens, Zach is more surprised than he should be. Nudity and Chris should be an easy item to wrap his mind around, really, but there's a difference between daydreams in trailers or showers and the real, tangible deal.

"You planned this."

"Sort of. The 'you walking in on me jerking it' part wasn't intentional."

Zach can't throw together any sort of witty retort because that was basically just permission to stare, which is something he is a-okay with.

Until it turns into a lot more than staring. He tries to think of what comes after a-okay on the awesome scale, but the sudden cant of the hips beneath him renders him incoherent.


It happens a third time. The anger turns into something like fond exasperation within the first minute.

"We have to stop meeting like this."

"Nah, it's romantic." Chris grins and Zach has to fight to keep the smile from his own face.

"It's practically breaking and entering."

"It's a lot sexier than that."

They're silent for a minute, and Chris looks disquietingly pensive.

"I have a reason this time."

"And that would be?"

"You just started a sentence with a conjunction."

"You're stalling."

Then, three words fill the space between them and Zach's heart all but bursts. He reciprocates with four and closes the gap physically.


There are a few more occurrences, but the ninth occasion has Zach seeing red.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Chris fidgets under his gaze, teeth working over his bottom lip.

"What part of 'alone' don't you understand? Can you not grasp the concept of personal space?"

"I thought--"

"You were wrong. Get out."


The tenth time is actually unexpected.

"What are you..."

Chris turns at the sound, hand dropping from his mouth. Nail biting. How typical.

Then Zach really sees him and it's enough to make him want to laugh and cry and hit the bastard all at once. The words 'I'M SORRY' are written across Chris's forehead in blue Sharpie.

"I know you don't look people in the eyes when you're pissed. Figured I'd put it where you'd see it."

"Your Y looks kind of funky."

"I wrote it in the mirror," Chris admits, tracing a freckle on his forearm.

"It's okay," Zach says, and there's a lot more beneath the surface of the words. Their eyes meet for the first time in about a week.


He loses count somewhere in the mid-teens, because he was more than a little drunk on most of those occasions. He estimates the total to be around twenty. By this point, he should probably anticipate the visits. The shock doesn't seem to dissipate, though.

"Your blender's on my counter. I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Yours is broken," Chris declares, brows furrowing slightly as he pauses, "and I want to move in with you."

"So you brought your blender as collateral until you do?"

"Pretty much. Additionally, you just began a sentence with a conjunction. Again."

"To be fair, you just non sequitured twice in a row."

"You made non sequitur into a verb. That nullifies your argument."

"When are you moving in?" The grin between them is probably visible from space.


It doesn't really happen again after that. Primarily because Chris is at live-in status and it's kind of hard to show up unannounced at the place of one's residence.

But then there's work and the house is decidedly cold and empty. Any duration of time under this condition is too long, so Zach isn't sure how he's going to survive three weeks.

He comes home from a breakfast run with the intention of returning to bed. The door is unlocked, though, which is kind of unnerving. He always, always locks it. It's probably just Joe or something, but he can't shake the tense feeling.

Zach opens the door all the way and steps inside, mouth set in a tight line. Then, suddenly, he sees movement on the couch.

He drops his orange juice.

"You're filming."

"Nope, I wouldn't be here if I was."

"You're supposed to be," Zach mumbles, trying his hardest to just wake up, already.

"Someone diva'd out and we got a couple day's break. NorCal is mostly boring. I caught a last minute red-eye here."

"That's a little complicated." Chris just shrugs.

"It was worth it. Your reaction was great, too."

"Fuck," Zach whines, suddenly aware of the orange puddle on the hardwood floor.

"Worry about it later," Chris says, walking over to take Zach's wrist. They flop onto the couch in practiced unison.

"So, wait--" Zach is promptly shushed.

"Wait your turn."

"Yes, sir." There's a beat, and Chris dips his head to stare at his hands.

"I sort of had an epiphany when I was stranded in Bumfuck, Nowhere last week."

"Go on."

"Um." Chris fumbles in his jacket pocket for something. There's the unmistakable sound of a plastic candy wrapper being opened. Zach is immensely confused.


"I told you to wait your turn, dammit." There's a movement that Zach misses and Chris is suddenly staring intensely at him. It's a little uncomfortable.

"Okay, so," Chris starts, hands awkwardly cupped together, "I, uh. I love you a lot. You know that, right?"

Zach nods.

"Good. I was wondering, um." Chris stops to sigh. "Would you, like, be opposed to... fuck, that sounds dumb." Another sigh. "Okay, okay, okay." He moves his hands to reveal a bright, garishly colored object.

"Is that a Ring Pop?"


"They still make those?"

"I guess."

"Where-- wait. Why are you..."

"Marry me?" Chris blurts out, face flushing. Zach blinks.

"Definitely." Before Zach can even close his mouth, Chris is making a show of placing the stopgap ring on his finger.

"This kind of isn't how this sort of thing is supposed to happen."

"We've been over this," Chris mutters, subsequently swiping his tongue over the red, angular candy.

"Why do I have the impression that you just want to see obscene things done orally to this?"

"Because it's the right one," he says with a grin, leaning into Zach and curling his fists in the soft material of his t-shirt.

Five minutes and several long, cherry-flavored kisses later, they forget all about protocol and the orange juice soaking the soles of their shoes.

V.aurora_84 on September 13th, 2009 06:52 pm (UTC)
This was beyond adorable.