Series: Star Trek XI RPF
Pairing: Chris/Zach (Burning hot Pinto, yeah baby, yeah!)
Summary: Chris had initially dismissed Zach as "not his type" -- but after spending time with Zach, and discovering his inherent beauty, he begins to change his mind.
A/N: This one is written for avictoriangirl, as I owed her something ridiculously sweet for the sad fic she is betaing for me.
This is also my first stab at Chris/Zach, so any suggestions on Zach's character would be much appreciated :)
It started with the simplest of things. Zach was leaning forward, meticulously murdering his eyebrows, as they chatted about their roles and their excitement over the film. The makeup room was bustling around them, swarmed with staff as they furiously attempted to get everybody ready before JJ started demanding his cast.
Chris was leaning his hip against the top of the dressing table, watching Zach work. The man was positively anal retentive when it came to his eyebrows. In a way, Chris could understand, because they were something that defined his character – but plucking them himself? Why didn’t he just let the experts do it?
And that’s not the only thing Chris still didn’t understand about the man. His sister had been positively gleeful when she’d learned Chris would be working alongside the Legendary Sylar – who, apparently, was the hottest thing on two legs. But even though Chris had been trying to find out what was so attractive about the guy all morning, he still hadn’t figured it out. His nose was too big. He was somehow gangly, and awkward, and had that deer-in-headlights thing going on far too often.
With a shrug aimed at Zach, Chris gave a snarky reply to the other man’s comment. Definitely not his type. Which was disappointing, as it seemed they could hit it off intellectually – they had been talking non-stop for the entire morning.
And then Zach had locked eyes with Chris through the mirror, and laughed. His real smile, which Chris hadn’t gotten to witness yet, literally transformed his face. And suddenly, Chris understood what his sister had been talking about. This man was beautiful.
Chris can admit he’s become a little bit obsessed. At least he can inside his head, when he catches himself staring at Zach a tad too much. But he can’t help himself – there’s just something about the man that calls out for observation.
Like now, when they are sitting in a group and going over their lines. There’s just something so eager about Zach, and how he approaches the script. He wants to be here, he’s ecstatic to be here, and it shows.
Thankfully, he’s the one speaking so Chris has an excuse to stare to his heart’s content. He watches as Zach makes an expansive gesture, an attempt to express his point eloquently. But the gesture falls short, stuttering before he gives up and drops his hands back on his lap. No one else seems to notice the awkwardness, focused as they are on the words flowing past Zach’s lips.
Chris on the other hand, decides that, perhaps, awkwardness can be endearing.
They are in the food trailer. It’s late, and they’re the only ones there. Laughing, and joking, and trading comments about life and the world in general. Chris knows he should say goodnight, as they have an early morning – but somehow, he can’t bring himself to do so. It’s their last week of filming, and he’s not sure when he’ll get to see Zach again.
He leans against the countertop, munching on one of Jim Kirk’s signature apples – or, what he hopes will become Jim Kirk’s signature apples. Chris admits this to Zach, who laughs at him in that way that lights up his whole face. Assurances that his portrayal is perfect, and will capture the hearts of the audience – assurances he believes, because they come from this man.
A goofy little grin on his face, as Zach begins rifling through the cupboards next to Chris. He raises his arms to sift through the top shelf, and the ratty striped t-shirt he’s wearing rides up. Chris is immediately fascinated with the expanse of flesh that is exposed – toned abs, and prominent hip bone.
All thoughts of Zach being gawky immediately escape Chris’ memory, as he can’t look away from that thin strip of skin. He wants to reach forward, to run the pad of his thumb along that hipbone as he pulls Zach close. The thought, and the intensity of the emotion behind it, terrify him. He hadn’t expected this.
Struggling to get the fear and desire under control, Chris curses silently as Zach reemerges from the cupboard. In his hands is a box of Cracker Jacks, unearthed from behind all the disgustingly healthy food that normally stocks the little kitchenette.
There’s a grin on his face until he catches sight of the expression on Chris’. Then the blonde is treated to a raised eyebrow, or more so the mangled remains of an eyebrow, only partially hidden by the thick rim of Zach’s glasses. A tentative question, and Zach somehow seems worried and sensitive at the same time.
Chris wants to squeeze Zach’s arm in reassurance, even though he’s not sure if that would be appropriate anymore. This…changes things. So instead Chris deflects by teasing Zach about the Cracker Jacks, watching carefully for the moment when Zach relaxes once again.
It’s been months since the last time they talked in person. And instead of this...thing, whatever it is, getting easier, it’s just been getting worse. Chris has tried to ignore the part of him that misses Zach out of all portion, but he can’t.
They’re on the phone, as they have been at least once a day since Zach boarded that plane to New York City. And Chris is leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed as Zach tells him the story of Noah’s newest escapade. He’s not even really listening to the words, just letting Zach’s voice wash over him.
His voice is just fundamentally mindblowing. So deep it strikes something profound inside Chris, resonating. And so expressive – Chris could listen to it forever. He could listen to Zach read the fucking phone book, and die happy.
He must have lost all sense of reason under the spell of that voice, because those words slip out. There’s silence on the other end of the line, and it’s that silence that brings Chris out of his half-trance. Zach mumbles a thank you – of all things, and Chris wants to pound his head against a table – and then continues his story as if the interruption never occurred.
But something is fundamentally different between the two of them, and both of them dance around it without a word.
His heart is pounding in his chest as he weaves through the crowd. It’s the first time the cast has been together since wrap, and they’re all talking and jostling animatedly as they catch up. People try to catch Chris’ attention, and he waves as he moves past – there’s only one person he’s interested in seeing right now.
Then Chris catches sight of him; a shock of dark hair, longer and shaggier than he remembers, and a name stutters out past his lips. He didn’t think it was loud, but apparently it was loud enough. The figure before him turns, as if pulled on a string, until Zach is facing him with a tentative smile on his face.
Chris freezes, stunned – staring because he can’t help it. Zach’s eyebrows have grown in during the intervening months, and now…now he is stunning, even before the dazzling smile. His thick eyebrows combine with his piercing, intent eyes – and yes, even that previously ridiculous nose – to give him a striking, complicated look.
Still pounding so hard he feels his rib cage is going to snap in two, his heart does this little pitter-patter as he takes the few steps to close the distance between the two of them. Leaning forward to be heard over the din of conversation and music around them, Chris whispers a greeting in Zach’s ear.
That warm deep voice murmurs in return, and he’s not even really conscious of what Zach’s saying, just the tone. Happiness and intense pleasure expressed so eloquently without saying the words aloud. Chris has to duck his head to hide his involuntary blush, and he moves to shift away.
A hand in his stops Chris in his tracks. The briefest of touches, fingertips brushing against the inside of his palm. Chris’ heart stops in his throat as he glances up, into Zach’s eyes. The dark-haired man has a hopeful expression on his face, bottom lip captured between teeth.
Chris smiles his most blinding, squeezing the fingers still captured in his hand. But they are surrounded by a sea of people, and he can’t do what he really wants to – which is capture that lip in his own, and savor it.
He’ll just have to wait til later, when they’re alone, to find out if Zach tastes as delicious as Chris always imagines he does.