withthepilot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
withthepilot) wrote2010-07-14 12:00 am
withthepilot) wrote2010-07-14 12:00 am
Entry tags:
Fic: One Stop Away
Title: One Stop Away
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Word count: 715
Notes: Written for the Summer Luau at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
pintofest, in response to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tara1031's prompt: subway trains. Just some short and fluffy Pinto.
Summary: It's crowded and cramped and perfect.
Zach moves away from Chris' side to take in the sight of the subway map. It's overwhelming and strangely beautiful—a rainbow-colored puzzle that resembles candy buttons and salt-water taffy, stretched every which way.
He feels a warm weight on his shoulder: Chris' chin, leaning on him. "Figure it out yet?" he asks.
"It's still all Greek to me."
"Oh, come on. You can navigate the New York subway but not this?" Chris reaches out to point toward the map. As much as Zach loves Chris being so close like this, he wishes he could see his bright blue eyes, the amused tilt to his eyebrows. "We're here: Shinjuku. And then we're going two stops, to Shibuya. See it?"
"Yeah, I see now."
"Easy, right?"
Chris grabs Zach by the wrist and leads him to the platform, where the train is pulling up. Zach's ears buzz with conversation, overhead announcements, and loud children, all speaking in a language he doesn't understand. It's cacophonous yet melodic. The subway car is jam-packed with passengers, mostly businessmen and women who are shorter than him.
"Maybe we should wait for the next one," Zach says. Chris shakes his head.
"The trains aren't going to get less crowded. It's rush hour," he says. "Plus, it's all part of the experience. The guide told me so."
"What, that dog-eared mess you've been carrying around?"
Chris pulls him into the subway car. "That's no way to talk about yourself," he quips.
Somehow, they find enough room in the car, thanks to Chris' maneuvering skills. Zach feels like a discomfited sardine, pressed up against all these strangers. He and Chris are at least a half-head taller than everyone in the surrounding patch of passengers. His feet feel abnormally large, too. Zach tries to point his toes toward each other. He lifts one hand toward the ceiling, pressing his palm flat against the cold surface for leverage. He knows that Chris is standing behind him somewhere, but he doesn't have room to turn around and see him.
"Okay," Zach hears, as the subway starts to move. Chris presses his chest snugly against Zach's back and hooks his chin over his shoulder once again, then carefully winds both arms around Zach's middle. Zach peers down and sees the well-worn travel guide in question, dog-eared and tagged with multicolored flags that remind him of the Tokyo subway map. Chris speaks softly, right against his ear. "I was thinking we could go to this shopping center. It's famous."
Zach shivers and looks down at the photo in front of him. "Yeah?" He doesn't read the text in the caption, too distracted by Chris' warm breath and the light scrape of his stubble.
"It's kind of for teenage girls. But it sounds like a trip. And then we can have lunch at this restaurant. You like ramen?" Chris flips a few pages and Zach nods, not even looking at the photo this time.
A cutesy, robotic voice announces the midpoint stop of Harajuku and a flood of people make a break for it, a new batch of passengers pouring in. Zach gets jostled and turned around so that he's facing Chris, and when the doors close again, they're chest to chest.
"Hi," he says.
Chris smiles at him and puts his guidebook away. He moves his arms to the same position as before, laced snugly around Zach's middle. "Hi."
"I'll go to the tween mall with you." Zach tilts his head. "On one condition."
"Okay, shoot."
Zach slides one hand into a back pocket of Chris' jeans. "This is the first day that we've had alone time since we first got here. So after lunch, we get back on the train and we do the entire subway loop, standing just like this."
Chris laughs in surprise. "It takes, like, an hour. And it won't be nearly as crowded by then."
"Well, we'll pretend that it is."
Zach presses closer and shuts his eyes when Chris rests his chin on his shoulder again. The tip of Chris' nose tickles his ear. Zach lets Chris' salt-damp scent and the thrill of anonymity wash over him, and he hopes that the automated voice about to announce their stop holds off just a little while longer.
"Okay, yeah," Chris murmurs. "We'll pretend."
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Word count: 715
Notes: Written for the Summer Luau at
pintofest, in response to tara1031's prompt: subway trains. Just some short and fluffy Pinto.Summary: It's crowded and cramped and perfect.
Zach moves away from Chris' side to take in the sight of the subway map. It's overwhelming and strangely beautiful—a rainbow-colored puzzle that resembles candy buttons and salt-water taffy, stretched every which way.
He feels a warm weight on his shoulder: Chris' chin, leaning on him. "Figure it out yet?" he asks.
"It's still all Greek to me."
"Oh, come on. You can navigate the New York subway but not this?" Chris reaches out to point toward the map. As much as Zach loves Chris being so close like this, he wishes he could see his bright blue eyes, the amused tilt to his eyebrows. "We're here: Shinjuku. And then we're going two stops, to Shibuya. See it?"
"Yeah, I see now."
"Easy, right?"
Chris grabs Zach by the wrist and leads him to the platform, where the train is pulling up. Zach's ears buzz with conversation, overhead announcements, and loud children, all speaking in a language he doesn't understand. It's cacophonous yet melodic. The subway car is jam-packed with passengers, mostly businessmen and women who are shorter than him.
"Maybe we should wait for the next one," Zach says. Chris shakes his head.
"The trains aren't going to get less crowded. It's rush hour," he says. "Plus, it's all part of the experience. The guide told me so."
"What, that dog-eared mess you've been carrying around?"
Chris pulls him into the subway car. "That's no way to talk about yourself," he quips.
Somehow, they find enough room in the car, thanks to Chris' maneuvering skills. Zach feels like a discomfited sardine, pressed up against all these strangers. He and Chris are at least a half-head taller than everyone in the surrounding patch of passengers. His feet feel abnormally large, too. Zach tries to point his toes toward each other. He lifts one hand toward the ceiling, pressing his palm flat against the cold surface for leverage. He knows that Chris is standing behind him somewhere, but he doesn't have room to turn around and see him.
"Okay," Zach hears, as the subway starts to move. Chris presses his chest snugly against Zach's back and hooks his chin over his shoulder once again, then carefully winds both arms around Zach's middle. Zach peers down and sees the well-worn travel guide in question, dog-eared and tagged with multicolored flags that remind him of the Tokyo subway map. Chris speaks softly, right against his ear. "I was thinking we could go to this shopping center. It's famous."
Zach shivers and looks down at the photo in front of him. "Yeah?" He doesn't read the text in the caption, too distracted by Chris' warm breath and the light scrape of his stubble.
"It's kind of for teenage girls. But it sounds like a trip. And then we can have lunch at this restaurant. You like ramen?" Chris flips a few pages and Zach nods, not even looking at the photo this time.
A cutesy, robotic voice announces the midpoint stop of Harajuku and a flood of people make a break for it, a new batch of passengers pouring in. Zach gets jostled and turned around so that he's facing Chris, and when the doors close again, they're chest to chest.
"Hi," he says.
Chris smiles at him and puts his guidebook away. He moves his arms to the same position as before, laced snugly around Zach's middle. "Hi."
"I'll go to the tween mall with you." Zach tilts his head. "On one condition."
"Okay, shoot."
Zach slides one hand into a back pocket of Chris' jeans. "This is the first day that we've had alone time since we first got here. So after lunch, we get back on the train and we do the entire subway loop, standing just like this."
Chris laughs in surprise. "It takes, like, an hour. And it won't be nearly as crowded by then."
"Well, we'll pretend that it is."
Zach presses closer and shuts his eyes when Chris rests his chin on his shoulder again. The tip of Chris' nose tickles his ear. Zach lets Chris' salt-damp scent and the thrill of anonymity wash over him, and he hopes that the automated voice about to announce their stop holds off just a little while longer.
"Okay, yeah," Chris murmurs. "We'll pretend."