Fic: Man Crush

[withthepilot]

Title: Man Crush
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Rating: R for light sexual content and language.
Notes: 2,700 words, exactly (I love when that happens!); one-shot, contains references to the ghost of Zach's small-screen past.
Summary: Zach always looks forward to his movie nights with Chris, though Chris' taste in viewing material is questionable; tonight is no exception.
Disclaimer: All lies, I tell you, lies.



Zach knew Chris was coming over for a beer, takeout and movie night, but when it was Zach's turn to pick out the takeout and Chris' turn to bring the movie (they switched back and forth, for the sake of fairness), it almost never went well. Well, the food part did—and, as Zach had been daydreaming about all day, he had giant, steaming containers of vegetarian fried rice and steamed vegetables (and mu shu pork, for Chris) on his kitchen counter, filling the entire house with their delectable aromas. But the movie part…ehh. So far, Zach had been forced to endure the entireties (and bonus extras) of What Happens in Vegas ("What? Cameron Diaz is hot!"), Just Married ("Are you sure it's not Ashton Kutcher you think is hot?") and The Butterfly Effect ("Okay, he's a little bit hot."). Chris also liked scary films about disease, alien invasion, and borderline torture porn that scared the living crap out of Zach. And Zach didn't like being scared.

"Bring something light and cute tonight," he'd told Chris earlier, over the phone. "That doesn't star Ashton Kutcher."

"What if I invite Ashton Kutcher?"

"I will change my locks and feed your mu shu pork to Noah."

Chris had paused in mock disbelief. "You're a cruel, joyless man, Quinto."

So when the doorbell rang and he shuffled over to spy Chris hopping around his front step and grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, he was concerned that Kutcher himself was waiting in the car.

"Oh my god, Zach," Chris exclaimed when the door opened. "I have the perfect thing for us to watch tonight."

"Oh?" Zach sighed, arching a brow. This was going to be good. And by good, he meant truly awful.

"It's light and cute and it stars a hot, talented actor who's not Ashton Kutcher," he sing-songed.

"Let me guess. Deuce Bigelow, Male Gigolo?"

"Shut up," Chris cheerfully said. Then he held up a brightly colored DVD with a giddy laugh: the entire first (and only—sadly or mercifully, depending on your predilections) season of So NoTORIous.

Zach went aghast in horror. "No."

"YES! We're going to watch every scintillating, brilliant episode of this VH1 classic!"

"No, no, a kajillion times no, get that out of my house, Christopher Whitelaw Pine, before I throw you and it to the wolves."

Chris quirked a brow. "You have wolves?"

"Of course," Zach said. He motioned to Noah across the room. The dog licked himself, yawned and put his head down between his paws. "He's bloodthirsty."

"I'm quivering in trepidation."

Chris took the opportunity to brush by Zach quickly, running into the living room and taking the first disc out of the case, bending to place it in the DVD player. "I've been looking forward to this all day, man. You're not going to steal my plastic surgery and dog-in-a-tutu sunshine."

"Where did you even find that?" Zach asked, weakly. He closed the front door and brought the Chinese food containers into the living room, along with plates and utensils. "I thought I had every copy banished to the sixth circle of hell."

"Engulfed in flaming tombs? Dude, that's harsh. Tori's tits would melt." Chris hummed as he pressed play and stood up again. "I found it in the discount bin at Blockbuster."

"Discount bin?! That thing sells for at least twenty bucks on Amazon, and…wait, who even shops at Blockbuster anymore?"

"Me and this crazy lady with four ponytails. Listen, it's cool, I'm glad to be a proud owner of my big, gay best friend's big, gay sitcom."

"I am not big." Zach huffed at Chris as he sat down on the sofa, opening the fried rice and spooning some onto his plate. "Don't you think it's a little self-indulgent to watch one's own performances like this?"

"Hell, no. When Star Trek comes out on DVD, I am going to watch the shit out of that. I might even masturbate to my own brilliance. Hey, where's the beer?"

"In the fridge, you freak." Zach sighed as the menu came on, slumping against the sofa and eating a mouthful of vegetables. "I'm not as fond of myself and my man bits as you are. This is embarrassing."

"It's not, it's fun." Chris opened two beers quickly and brought them both over, then sat and made up a plate of mu shu (ignoring the accompanying pancakes) and fried rice. "Earth to Zach: you were good at playing Sasan, just like you're good at everything you do, because you're fucking talented."

"No one says 'Earth to' anymore," Zach mumbled, reaching for his beer. Chris ignored him, continuing and waving his fork around for emphasis.

"And you were a natural at the role. Possibly because you're a big queer, but definitely because you're talented."

"You're not so straight yourself, Mister Ashton Kutcher Movie Marathon. If you're going to have a weird man crush on another actor, at least make it a cute, non-douchey one."

"John is cute," Chris said, arching a brow. "And Karl. I could have brought over Lord of the Rings."

"Too long."

"Or Doom."

"Too scary," Zach said with a pout, sinking down into the sofa. Chris grinned and paused in his inhalation of his food to reach over and ruffle his friend's dark hair.

"You're such a girl. How do you even manage to get through your lines on Heroes without pissing yourself?"

"At least I don't harbor secret man crushes on all of my fellow actors."

"Say what?!" Chris exclaimed. He leaned back, his brow furrowed in that overacting way of his that Zach found rather adorable. Zach tilted his head, glad to have the upper hand again.

"'John is cute. Karl is cute.' Remind me not to visit your trailer during filming; it'll probably be a complete wankfest in there, with all that beefcake walking around the set."

"That's not true. Jerk." Now it was Chris' turn to pout. He grabbed the remote from the table and started flicking through episodes. Zach couldn't help a smug little smile; he was surely going to spend the rest of the evening blushing like crazy, so it was only fair that he got that one little jab in. Plus, with the way Chris was ignoring him in favor of the TV screen, his little coworker crushes were probably more in the realm of truth than fiction—which made it all the better, and provided lovely ammunition for future reference.

After having to suffer through a couple of random episodes of Chris' choosing, Zach had abandoned the food in favor of sucking down a few beers; he figured it would be easier to survive the humiliation that way. He'd shifted uncomfortably when Chris picked the "Whole" episode to watch, vividly remembering the one particularly embarrassing scene in it. Hell, the whole world knew that scene. For a while, when Star Trek first hit the theaters, he could have sworn that he was bombarded by the animated gif of his sauna makeout at least three times per day.

Chris, of course, made them watch it repeatedly.

"God, this is classic," he commented, still picking at the mu shu pork. "Like, I know you're not as flamboyant as Sasan. But that awkward way he keeps saying 'bro' is so you. You could never get away with saying 'bro' with a straight face." He paused and then laughed at his own pun. "Ha, straight face. Get it?"

"You're a dolt, sometimes, you know that?" Zach rolled his eyes and sipped at his beer, holding the bottle loosely by the neck. "I could totally get away with saying 'bro.' Here, listen. Um…" He straightened up, nodding toward the full bottles of beer on the table. "Pass me another beer…bro."

Chris cringed openly at him, but did pass him the beer. "Really? Really."

"Yeah, I'm, like…thirsty as a mofo, bro." That was when Chris erupted.

"Oh, my GOD. I want that to be the start-up sound on my laptop. 'I'm thirsty as a mofo, bro.' Holy shit!" He continued to cackle until he realized the scene had changed, and then grabbed the remote, rewinding. "Oh, shit, go back, TV."

Zach groaned, lolling his head back. "Chris, again?"

"Yes, again. Be quiet; I'm entertained."

Chris watched the screen with a look of concentration, biting his lip. Zach continued drinking and tried not to pay any mind to how utterly sweaty he was on the screen. And his chest heaving like that? Sure, they were in a sauna, but that was just overacting on his part, even if his character was trying to pick up another guy. Though Chris seemed to be perfectly mesmerized by the whole thing.

"There, that part," Chris suddenly said.

"What part?"

"When you go, 'I love her breasts,' and then you have that little quirk of a smile? Like, that almost giddy look that reads, Oh, my god, I'm actually getting away with this? That's good, man. That's really good. The nuance of it!" Chris threw his hands up and exhaled. "My mind's officially blown."

"Your mind's officially missing," Zach said. He couldn't help a faint blush creep across his cheeks at Chris' compliment, despite his words. Chris gave him a cocky grin, likely noticing and out to poke fun.

"Too bad Tori busts in, that was kinda hot."

"You are such a homo gay."

"A homo gay who loves you," Chris said, kissing his cheek wetly. Zach wrinkled his nose and wiped the spit off his cheek. "I'm not. It has nothing to do with that, even. It's just that I really am in awe of how great of an actor you are. You're so versatile, your range is incredible…you could do anything, I bet."

"Well," Zach said, uncharacteristically lost for words. He was blushing again, because he knew Chris really did mean all of that. Hell, it would have been nice if the "homo gay who loves you" part was true also, but Zach was thrilled just to have Chris' respect as a friend and a fellow actor. Yes, he was nothing but satisfied with that. "Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome. Now, stop hogging all the beer. Drinking won't make Sasan any less flamboyant, you know."

"Unfortunately, you're right," Zach sighed. He looked at the empty bottles on the table before him and tried to recall how many were his. Three, four…? No more than four, surely. Five? Ehh, didn't matter. He took another swig and curled his legs beneath him, steeling himself for whatever episode was coming next.

By the middle of the next episode, Zach had finished his beer and curled himself around one of the sofa cushions, deciding to rest his eyes. It didn't seem like they were closed for a very long time, but when he blinked them open again, he could no longer feel the comforting weight of Chris beside him on the sofa. Goddamn beer…well, beers. He wondered sleepily how long he'd been out and if Chris had gone home. That would have been a bummer. He scratched his jaw and tried to get his bearings straight, his ears adjusting to the sounds in the room before his vision returned. The volume on the set had been lowered significantly but the DVD was still on, playing the same lines he'd heard earlier in the evening. Had the disc begun to repeat itself? Zach rubbed his eyes and peered at the TV, spotting Chris on the floor right in front of it, sitting with his legs folded and raptly watching the screen. Someone said something about "getting ungay," and then…

Oh, man. Chris was watching the damn "Whole" episode again. Zach couldn't believe it. Hadn't they poured over that one enough times already? And he'd woken up just in time for the sauna scene, how utterly perfect. There he was again, on the screen half-naked with the glistening chest and the heavy breathing and, of course, the lusty looks at the other guy with whom Zach vaguely remembered having a quick grope and tongue battle in his dressing room after filming—couldn't remember his name, though he supposed he could check the credits—and it was all just too much, why in the hell was Chris…

Why in the hell was Chris touching himself?

Was he? No, couldn't be. But he had to be. Zach could see Chris' arm moving subtly as he stared at the screen, positioned in a way that could only mean his hand was between his thighs. And he was nearly bent in half, the way he was leaning so close to the set, like a sunflower demanding to be close to its light source. Zach tried to angle himself to get a better look at Chris' face, without making a sound or any sudden movement to alert him to the fact that he was awake. It was probably kind of perverted to be watching Chris like this, but hell, it was kind of perverted for Chris to be rubbing himself to a DVD of Zach's old sitcom while sitting on the floor of Zach's house in Zach's living room. So, yeah, he felt validated.

When he leaned a bit further to the right, he could see Chris' eye, trained on the happenings before him. He could see the glint there, the undisguised lust not meant for anyone else to see. He saw Chris' tongue dart out—as it had a habit of doing, damn that boy—and his breath hitch when Zach did that little half-smile thing in the scene, the motion that Chris has specifically pointed out to him as a sign of nuance and superior acting skills. Acting skills, his ass; Chris was obviously getting off on the sauna scene—the sauna scene that featured a very shirtless and shiny version of Zach making out with an equally shiny guy. Chris obviously wanted him.

Holy shit. Chris wanted him. Wanted him.

Zach's jaw dropped as Chris went to rewind the scene with his free hand, the one not furiously palming the front of his jeans. "Buh," Zach said, and then Noah licked the sole of his foot and he fell off the sofa with a thud.

"What the—Zach, are you…um?" Chris blanched as he turned around to see Zach on the floor, then furiously blushed, his face going pink. He squinted, sounding sheepish. "You…you okay? Bro?"

"I'm fine! Um." Zach looked at him in alarm as he sat up, not having a single clue as to what to say to Chris—not to mention Chris Jr., looking very eager to escape from Chris' jeans and go outside and play. Zach blinked rapidly and then exhaled. He'd just…put it out there. "Chris, were you just masturbating to the So NoTORIous DVD?"

"Um…no! I was just…doing a close viewing of the scene, and…enjoying your work." Chris swallowed visibly. "Ish."

"You just said 'ish,'" Zach whispered.

"I know. It was very homo gay."

"It was Eau de Homo." Zach crawled over to where Chris sat and hesitated, studying him. "You realize that the act of jerking off to a Tori Spelling-produced television series is, without any further consideration needed, the gayest thing on Earth."

Chris licked his lips—as if Zach's brain needed to short circuit any more than it already had—and shrugged one shoulder, furrowing his brow. "I'm…willing to accept that, yes."

"And you don't actually have a man crush on Karl, do you?"

"Of course not. Too scary."

"Or John?"

"Too long." Chris quirked a grin at Zach, who gaped back at him.

"How would you know?"

"I have my sources." Chris smiled nervously for a moment, and then leaned in and kissed him. Zach made a sound that registered, at least to his own ears, as pleasant surprise. Chris murmured against Zach's lips: "My man crush is strictly reserved for you. And maybe Ashton Kutcher. But you're the only one I want to see in a sauna."

"I'll make a spa reservation first thing tomorrow morning," Zach whispered.

"Oho, fiction becomes reality."

"You know, I like it much better this way." He cupped the back of Chris' neck and leaned in to sweetly take his mouth again.