A passage that sings. by dorkorific (R)

[aprilleigh24.livejournal.com]

Fandom: STAR TREK RPF
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Length: 17,000
Author on LJ: dorkorific
Author Website:
Why this must be read: Somebody has to do something about it! Somebody! It cannot go on. If only some sensible normal person, like Cho or Zoe, could just take them by the shoulders and push them together like action figures and just get it over with: wouldn't that be better? Wonderful charaterizations throughout- including a perfect Nimoy cameo- this is how I love my Pinto: they're brilliant but still need a smack upside the head with a clue bat. (read if only for their 'top five writers they'd bang' conversation!)

Okay, so, fine. So they text a lot. So Chris is best friends with Zach's dog. So Zach knows what Chris's karaoke songs are -- "Once In A Lifetime," "Thunder Road," or "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman," depending -- and his favorite books (numerous), and the people who have broken his heart (numerous), and his lucky t-shirt (singular). So Chris knows how Zach likes his eggs and where his other tattoo is and the time he almost died in an accident on the Jersey Turnpike.

So okay, maybe they are pretty close, even in real life. Too close to have been doing this stupid tango for, what, at least two years? More than two years. More than three.

Fine. So what? Does that admission make anything easier, for anybody? It does not.

The "Fasten Seatbelt" light dings off. Chris makes a little mmph noise, stretches out sleepily, shirt riding up over his hips, and smooshes the heel of his palm into Zach's face, not by accident. "Oops."

"Off," Zach says, delicately entrapping Chris's wrist and holding it away from him. "Bad dog."

"I've got these long dancer's limbs," Chris says pathetically. "I can't help it." He digs his sneaker heel into the back of Zach's ankle. "Ahh. Better."

"You're cruising for a wedgie," Zach says. That strange panic is still riding high and tight in his chest: talking helps him ignore it.

"Promises, promises," Chris says, tugging his shirt back down. "Is it burger time yet?" He pushes down on Zach's thigh to stand up, grunting and flailing, making a whole production.

"Don't touch me," Zach says. "God, you're irritating."

"I'll touch you whenever I want," Chris says. "And howsoever."

Somebody has to do something about it! Somebody! It cannot go on. If only some sensible normal person, like Cho or Zoe, could just take them by the shoulders and push them together like action figures and just get it over with: wouldn't that be better?


A passage that sings