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therumjournalsTitle: 46th and Pine: A West Philadelphia Love Story
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
therumjournals
Word Count: This chapter - 8,650 (Total - 35,500)
Previous: Chapter 1
(Header details at the Master Post)
Chris had his finger poised above Zach’s number on his phone around 2 PM every afternoon that week, but each time something stopped him from dialing. He didn’t want to come off like a clingy stalker, but he wasn’t really sure what to say. “I want to spend some quality time with your dog?” “I’ve been in college for three years and yet there is no one here that I’d actually like to hang out with?” “I think you’re cool and funny and every time I catch a whiff of patchouli I think about the first day we met?” Yeah, no. And since he had no idea what would actually come out of his mouth, he decided it was just too risky to make the call.
He was thinking about it again on Thursday afternoon, actually holding the phone in his hand, when Zach called. It was a beautiful day, he said, and he was planning to walk Noah to the park, and would Chris want to meet up with him and maybe throw a disc around? Yes, yes he would.
*
Zach let Noah off the leash when he saw Chris walking across the grass in Clark Park. “Noah!” Chris cried, spreading his arms, and Noah bounded toward him at full speed, nearly knocking him over. Chris stood up when Zach got close, laughing and rubbing happily at Noah’s head.
“Hey Zach, thanks man, this is great. I really do love this dog.”
“He appears to be quite fond of you,” Zach said. “Just don’t let him start humping your leg, okay? He tends to try to move things along in a relationship.”
They walked around the park, then played a little Frisbee. Chris tried to get Noah interested in a game of fetch, to which Noah just gave him a raised eyebrow – that looked quite similar to Zach’s, Chris noticed – and lay down under a tree. Zach was leashing Noah up to take him home when his phone rang.
“Hello? Yeah, I’m still planning to go. What? Come on, don’t do that to me. Fuck you, Summer. Uh huh. Okay, I’ll do that. You cooking for me later, sweetcheeks? K, great. See you soon.” He hung up, rolling his eyes. “Fucking Summer, I knew she’d do this.”
“Do what?”
“Back out on me. We’re supposed to go to a concert on Tuesday night. This band Freelance Whales is playing at the Rotunda and I’ve been wanting to see them live, and now Summer’s decided to go chain herself to a tank or something.”
“Really?!”
“Actually, I have no idea what she’s doing, I stopped listening. Anyway, it’s no big deal, the tickets were only like ten bucks, but it just sucks to go by myself.” He looked at Chris, inspired. “Hey, I don’t suppose you’d want to go?”
“Um, sure.”
“Really? You like that kind of music?”
“I have no idea. But, I’ll go with you, and mock you relentlessly for being a hipster, and you won’t look as lame as you would standing there by yourself.”
Zach laughed. “Well shit, how could I turn down an offer like that?”
“What can I say, I’m a giver.”
“Alright, well, give me a call on Tuesday and we can plan to meet up before the concert.”
**
When Zach came to the door of 4609 on Tuesday evening, Chris raised his eyebrows and asked, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“Please tell me this…ensemble…is intended to be ironic,” Chris said, gesturing to Zach’s outfit.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Zach asked, taking offense.
“Well, nothing, if your goal is to meet every hipster stereotype known to man.” Zach was wearing skinny jeans with rolled up cuffs, a blue plaid shirt, a trucker hat, and a pair of chunky black glasses. Chris couldn’t help but think back to the tank top and paint splattered cargoes Zach had been wearing when they first met, and which, upon reflection, he probably shouldn’t be able to visualize so clearly in his mind.
“Yeah, well, come in here,” Zach demanded.
“What? I thought we had to go.”
“We do, but I cannot be seen with you wearing…that,” Zach said, pointing to Chris’s zip-up hoodie that said Abercrombie and Fitch across the front. “Come upstairs.”
Chris rolled his eyes, but followed Zach dutifully to the third floor. Zach’s room was a large space, probably intended to be an attic, but surprisingly light and airy. Most of the space seemed to be used as Zach’s studio – painted canvases had been propped against the walls and plywood boards laid across bricks served as shelves to keep the paint supplies out of Noah’s reach. The “bedroom” part consisted of a futon, a doggie bed, and a dresser, through which Zach was currently rummaging. “Here,” he said, pulling out a blue and black striped hoodie. “This one matches your eyes.”
“Nice,” said Chris, as he pulled it on. “Where’d you get it?”
“Second Mile. It’s a thrift store? Down the street?” he said, in response to Chris’s confused look.
“Ah. I thought hipsters got everything from American Apparel?”
Zach shook his head as they headed down the stairs. “That’s only hipsters with parental incomes.”
“Of course.”
“Like Summer,” Zach whispered.
Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“Yeah, hence the ability to pay the rent and invest in new hobbies. She grew up on the Main Line. I think she’s convinced her parents that she’s studying the West Philadelphia squatter culture as part of her dissertation or some shit. It’s pretty impressive, actually.”
“What about your parents?”
“It’s just my mom, actually. She’s still in Pittsburgh. My dad died when I was young.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
Zach shrugged.
“Is your mom cool with you being an artist?”
“She just wants me to be happy, I think. As long as I can support myself…and it’s not like she has a choice. I don’t think I could not be an artist, you know what I mean?”
Chris didn’t, really, but he nodded anyway. He couldn’t help but admire Zach’s ability to make his way in the world and to do it exactly how he wanted to. Chris harbored a vague hope that he’d be able to do the same thing, but he had no way of knowing yet if he’d be able to when the time came. His parents had always been focused on grades and extracurricular activities, getting into a good school, succeeding in a good school, and then…he wasn’t quite sure what came next. He changed the subject before Zach could ask.
They grabbed drinks after the concert, then parted ways with a non-committal “see you around.” Chris felt vaguely disappointed that they hadn’t made any plans to hang out again, and wondered if the past week had been a fluke, if maybe it hadn’t been a build up to a real friendship as he’d hoped. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a friend without the crutch of shared classes and dorm halls, and he found the prospect rather exhilarating.
**
Chris thought about Zach a few times over the course of the next week – thought about inviting him to a frat party, then to half-priced margarita night at Mad Mex – but he stopped himself each time, feeling like those things were immature and shallow and not at all things that would interest Zach. He even considered asking Karl if they could throw a party in their apartment, just as an excuse to invite Zach. But, that wasn’t really what he wanted. He wanted to…hang out, to talk about life and blabber on about his playwriting class and listen to Zach blabber on about the art scene in Philadelphia. After class the next Tuesday, he had almost justified heading out to Fuego just to see if he could run into Zach. Or maybe he could just…Fuck it. He pulled out his phone and dialed Zach’s number.
The call went straight to voicemail, and though he was tempted to hang up, he forced himself to leave a message. “Uh, hey Zach, it’s Chris. Um, I’m bored as shit and I was wondering if you might want to, uh, hang out or something. Like we could-“ he paused, trying desperately to think of something he could suggest- “grab drinks or something,” he finished lamely. “So, give me a call. Um, bye.” He hung up and reflected on the absolute travesty that was that message, and he was still holding the phone five minutes later when Zach called back.
“Hello?”
“Hey man, I’m kind of in the middle of a thing here, but you should totally come by 4609 if you want to hang out for a while.”
“Yeah? Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt…”
“No, come over, I’ll be done soon and we can grab drinks or something, like you said. I’ve been painting for like three days straight, I could use some social interaction.”
“Okay. I’ll, uh, just head on over then.”
“Sweet. See ya soon.”
**
Chris rang the doorbell twice, knocked a few times, and was about ready to turn around and leave when he finally heard footsteps inside. Harvest pulled open the door, glanced at Chris, and turned back into the house, saying “Zach’s upstairs. And next time you can just come right in.”
“Um, okay,” Chris said, surprised, but he went inside and took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor.
He stood in the doorway for a few minutes, watching Zach paint and shake his hips to the sound of Womanizer coming from the iPod speakers on the floor. Noah glanced up lazily from his doggie bed in the corner, gave Chris a discerning look, and set his head back down, bored.
“Was that Britney?” Chris said when the song ended. “That could seriously damage your hipster cred, you know.”
Zach startled at the sound of Chris’s voice, but he was focused on the canvas and he answered without turning around. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to balance the hipster cred with the fag cred, ya know? It’s a very fine line.” He finished the line he was painting with a flourish and turned around, smiling at Chris where he was leaning on the doorframe.
“Okay, so, shouldn’t you be listening to Lady Gaga then? Kill two birds with one stone?” Chris mused.
Zach threw his head back and laughed. “You’re funny,” he said, pointing at Chris with his paintbrush. “That was good. I’m gonna use that,” he said, turning back to the painting, as though he couldn’t look away from it for too long, or he’d lose his inspiration.
Chris walked across the room and sank down to the floor to give Noah a good scratch between his ears. Zach glanced back at him.
“I knew you were only here to hang out with my dog,” he said.
“Hey, could you butt out; we’re having a moment here.”
“I see how it is. You’ve got ten minutes, then I plan to monopolize your attentions.”
Noah turned over onto his back, and Chris scratched his belly to the sound of happy panting. After a few minutes, though, Chris stepped away from the dog and moved over to peruse the piles of books that surrounded Zach’s futon. He was a good ten pages into The Crying of Lot 49 when Zach finally set down his paintbrush and wiped his hands on his cargo pants. “You ready for that drink?”
“Sure,” Chris said distractedly, finishing his paragraph and setting the book face down on Zach’s bed to keep his place. “Fuego?”
“Seems a shame to be inside on such a nice day. Wanna just go to the bodega around the corner and pick up a couple forties, drink them on the porch?”
“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all week.”
**
“It should be illegal for something this cheap to get me this fucked up,” Chris groaned, dropping his empty bottle onto the porch as he slumped further into the couch.
“I know, right,” said Zach, who had given up sitting completely and was lying on his back with his feet over the side.
“Think I’m gonna head back. Shit.”
“What?”
“I meant to ask if I could borrow your book.” Chris looked mournfully at the front door and thought about walking up two flights of stairs. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Come back tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Come back over tomorrow, you can read it here.” Zach patted the couch.
“I have class.”
“Fine, the next day, then. Whatever. Bring your homework. Bring a six-pack. I’ll make dinner.”
“Uh huh. That sounds like a recipe for getting no work done whatsoever.”
“Fine,” said Zach, sitting up. “Far be it from me to deprive the library of your presence. I’m just sayin’, it’s a comfy couch.”
*
It was a comfy couch, and Chris found himself there more afternoons than not over the next couple weeks. He finished The Crying of Lot 49 and perfected the art of reading literature through a pleasant haze of red wine and cool autumn air. Half the time, he was there by himself while Zach painted upstairs or was out of the house running errands. The other roommates didn’t blink an eye at his presence, except to stop and exchange a few sentences, steal a sip of whatever he was drinking, or bring him a plate of hummus and veggies. The rest of the time, Zach would join him with a book of his own, and only a few times did Chris realize that they’d both set their books down and had been talking for hours, and he had to get himself back to campus so he could actually get some work done.
*
Chris banged in through the door of the apartment to find Karl making a gigantic sandwich, using what appeared to be every ingredient in the kitchen. “Hey Karl.”
“Hey. You coming to Zoe’s tonight to watch Lost?”
“Uh, shit. I can’t, I really have to get an outline done for this paper.”
Karl rolled his eyes. “Come on, I barely see you any more, man!”
“You barely see me ever, Karl. Your schedule is whack.”
“Uh huh.”
“And I’ve been spending a lot of time off-campus,” Chris muttered.
“With that guy Zach? You guys have got kind of an epic bromance going, haven’t you?” Karl asked cheekily.
“I don’t even know what that means, Karl,” Chris said, raising an eyebrow. “We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okay.”
“Speaking of which, you and Zo seem to be hovering on the edge of something that history has shown to be a bad idea. What’s up with that?”
“We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking,” Karl said, throwing his words back at him.
Chris rolled his eyes. “You around this week?”
“A bit.”
“We’ll hang out soon, I promise.”
Karl nodded and took a massive bite of his sandwich.
**
Chris was back at 4609 the next day, sprawled on the couch facing Zach, both immersed in their own books as they passed a bottle of cheap wine lazily between them. Chris felt warm and content, despite the light drizzle that was falling just beyond the porch roof. He turned a page and accepted the bottle of wine from Zach when they heard a shout from the sidewalk.
“Yo, asshole!” someone yelled, and Chris felt his body tense, ready to face some punkass neighborhood kids.
But Zach was looking up from his book and grinning, yelling “Choseph!” and leaping down the porch steps into the arms of a grinning Asian guy with a messy mohawk and a beat up duffel bag across his back.
Chris felt his chest tighten at the sight of Zach with his arms wrapped tightly around the guy, who looked thrilled to be the recipient of that hug. Zach pulled back and kissed him on the forehead, then wrinkled his nose. “Phew, man, you stink.”
“That’s rich, coming from you, Quinto,” Cho said with a grin. “New roommate?” He nodded toward the porch, and Chris plastered on a smile and extended a hand.
“New friend. Cho, this is Chris, Chris, Cho. Cho used to live with us, what was it, six, seven months ago?” Cho shrugged as if time were the least of his concerns. “Told us he was leaving, hopped a freight, and headed West, right?”
Cho nodded. “Yup. Made it all the way to San Fran, baby!”
“Jesus, Cho, why the hell’d you come back here?”
“Missed Fuego,” Cho said with a wink. “The West Coast man, I don’t know. Just not my style. I missed the iron and the grit.”
“Filthadelphia.”
“Hells yeah, Thrilladelphia.” They laughed, so obviously comfortable with each other that Chris felt distinctly out of place, and a gnawing in his gut convinced him that it was time to go.
“I think I’m gonna head back to campus,” he said, grabbing his backpack and heading off the porch.
“You go to Penn?”
“Yeah.” Chris saw Cho flash Zach a look that seemed to ask “what’s happened to you since I left?”
Zach ignored Cho’s look and turned to Chris, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving him a shy look. “Come out to Fuego tonight though? Once everyone finds out Cho’s back in town it’s gonna be a party for reals.”
Chris felt his heart jump in his chest at the pleading tone that he could sense in Zach’s voice, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going to Fuego. Still, he shrugged and said “yeah, maybe” before he turned to go.
He could still hear Zach’s voice behind him as he made his way down the block. “You’re staying with me, man,” Zach was saying to Cho, “and I don’t want to hear it. You can do your noble homeless act later, tonight you’re getting a shower and a real bed.”
“A real bed?” he heard Cho ask skeptically.
“Okay, fine, half a futon, but no complaining or you can trade places with Noah.”
Chris heard the screen door slam as they stepped inside, and he picked up his pace as he made his way home through the rain.
*
His phone rang at 3:30 the next day and he answered it on the first ring, suddenly realizing that he’d been waiting all day for Zach to call.
“Hey,” he said blandly, tamping down his excitement.
“You didn’t come by last night,” Zach said. He sounded…hurt? Or maybe he was just surprised. Now that Chris thought about it, it was the first time he’d turned down an invitation from Zach.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“What happened? Frat party or something?”
Actually, it had been a Project Runway marathon at Zoe’s - a chance to catch up with his friends, gorge on pepperoni pizza, watch shitty reality TV, and bitch about grades and graduation requirements.
“Nah, I just had some shit to do.”
He could practically hear Zach chewing on his lip as he searched for a response. “Yeah. Well, you missed a sweet party. People were asking about you.”
Chris felt a pang of regret and pushed it to the back of his mind.
“And you shoulda heard some of Cho’s stories.”
“Yeah, he seemed cool. I just figured you guys might want some time to catch up and stuff.”
“Yeah, well, he’s probably gonna stay with us for a little while, so you should come over soon and hear about his adventures. Some crazy shit, man. He was telling us how he went skinny dipping this one time and-“
“Look, I gotta go, Zach, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? I just, I’ve got some work I have to finish before class.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, later man.”
“Yeah. Later.”
**
Chris avoided 46th Street and Fuego for a few more days, and Zach didn’t call again. Chris found himself wondering if that was it, if he had been an entertaining diversion while Cho was gone and now that Zach had his real friend back, he’d been effectively forgotten. He got his papers written, read ahead for class, started drinking on Friday at 5:00 and didn’t stop until Saturday at 3:00 AM. He spent Sunday vomiting into every single trashcan in the apartment, to Karl’s immense displeasure.
“You’re a wreck, Pine. What the fuck happened to you? And how come your friend Zach isn’t here to hold your hair back, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not doin’ it.”
Chris scowled at him, gave him the finger, and dry heaved into the kitchen trashcan.
“That’s disgusting. I’m outta here, take care of yourself alright?”
“Where you going?” Chris managed to ask, his voice scratchy.
“Library,” Karl said shortly, and Chris narrowed his eyes.
“Oh yeah? If I call Zoe, will she tell me she’s going to the library too?”
Karl flushed a little. “We’re studying together, is that allowed?”
“Whatever. Just, when you guys do it, do it in the science stacks, okay? I don’t want your jizz all over my literature.”
“I’m gonna come on Keats, just for you.”
“I’m going to vomit on your pillow.”
“You’d better not,” Karl called back to him as he shut the door.
Chris slumped dejectedly onto the couch and fell into a restless doze, until he was awakened by the buzz of his phone. He answered before he even thought to check who it was.
“’Lo,” he said groggily.
“Hey, Chris.” Fuck, it was Zach. “We’re getting a game of night Ultimate going in Clark Park, you want in?”
“Fuck, Zach, I can’t even move right now,” he said gruffly, annoyed at Zach for calling and at himself for wanting to go and at his stomach for not letting him.
“Fine,” Zach said curtly. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”
“Uh, have fun?” Chris said weakly, trying to salvage something.
“Sure,” Zach said, ending the call.
**
Chris broke down and called Zach on Tuesday night.
“Hello?”
“Hey Zach, it’s Chris.”
“Yeah, I saw.”
Chris bit his lip and struggled to think of what to say. “Look, I really was sick the other night.”
“Okay.”
“You, uh…you want to hang out some time?” Or are you busy with Cho, he wanted to add.
“Um. Okay. House dinner’s tomorrow night, you wanna come?”
“What’s for dinner? You know how I feel about weird grains and shit,” he said, trying to get a hold of that joking ease that he’d missed over the past week.
“We’re having pasta,” Zach said, ignoring Chris’s comment. “Fresh tomato sauce. I’m making it.”
“Well, I suppose I could make an appearance,” Chris said, and his stomach clenched in a way that he decided not to think about.
“Starts at seven.”
“Right. See you then.”
He hung up the phone, and thought about the feelings that were rushing through him. He thought about seeing Zach again, and he felt his heart speed up. That sure as hell didn’t happen when he thought about grabbing dinner with Karl.
Fuck.
**
Chris walked into 4609 without knocking, like he’d been doing for the past few weeks. It felt different now, and when Summer smiled at him from the couch and said “Zach’s in the kitchen,” he somehow felt like he’d been caught. He shook his head at the thought and headed through the house, swallowing hard when he caught sight of Zach’s long frame standing with his back to Chris at the stove. Chris forced himself to be casual, tried to remember how it had been between him and Zach, as he leaned back against the counter.
“Hey, Zach.”
“Hey,” Zach said, shooting him a small smile before turning his attention back to the pot.
Missed you, Chris almost said, and maybe that would have been normal, maybe that would have been fine, but he swallowed it back nonetheless and stood there awkwardly for a long moment.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Zach said, still looking at the pot. “You can have a seat.” He called everyone to the table and Chris took a seat, trying not to feel annoyed when Rachel and Harvest sat down on either side of him. Zach dished out the food and ended up at the opposite corner of the table, next to Cho. Chris felt a giddy sense of nervousness throughout dinner, contributing little to the conversation except to laugh somewhat excessively at Zach’s lame jokes. The food was delicious, but it was all he could do to make himself force it down into his clenched-tight stomach. Chris was actually thankful for Cho, who held everyone’s attention through most of dinner, which meant that Chris could watch Zach watch Cho, watch how he quirked an eyebrow right before he was about to make a joke, watch how he threw his head back whenever he laughed. A few times, Zach caught Chris’s eye across the table, but his expression was always inscrutable, no matter how long Chris looked back.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Chris?” Rachel asked. Chris saw Zach glance up at him quickly as he turned to answer.
“Oh, uh. Not sure. Last year Karl and I had an ‘80’s movie marathon and gorged ourselves on Boston Market. I know we’ll both be around, and probably Zoe will, too.”
“You guys should come here,” said Summer. “We’re feeding all the strays,” she added with a wink.
“Don’t listen to them,” Cho interjected, laughing. “They invite as many people as they can and then make you pay for the booze.”
“If the food’s as good as tonight’s dinner, I think that would be a pretty fair deal,” Chris managed to respond, not looking at Zach.
“Well, you’ve got three weeks to decide,” said Zach, leaning back in his chair. “So, you know. Let us know.”
**
Zach walked Chris to the door and shoved his hands deep in his pockets as he said goodbye. He was still staring down the block after Chris had turned the corner when Cho joined him on the porch.
“That Penn kid’s gone on you, man. You hit that yet?”
“Jesus, Cho, could you be a little more crude?” Zach said, finally tearing his eyes away from the street.
“I’m just callin’ it like I see it. You haven’t, have you?”
Zach blushed and shook his head.
“Fuck, look at you, you’ve got it just as bad for him!”
“I have no idea if he’s even gay, Cho.”
“Who the fuck cares if he is? He’s a senior in college, he’s got to get his experimentation on before he leaves the bubble and enters the real world. It’s practically your duty to help him out.”
“I find it humorous that you consider where you live the real world, Cho.”
“Pshh, whatever, dude. Go ahead, avoid the question if you want. Just, please, promise me that at some point, you’ll get him drunk and stick your tongue down his throat. I guarantee you’ll be pleased with the results.”
“And I guarantee that if that ever happens, you will not be informed as to the results.”
Cho grinned knowingly. “I just want you to be happy, dude.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, getting someone drunk and jumping them is my definition of happiness. Yeah, right. You thrive on gossip, Cho, it’s kind of demented.”
Cho leaned back against the porch rail. “Harvest seeing anyone?”
“Goodnight, Cho,” Zach said, rolling his eyes and heading back into the house.
“Night, loverboy,” he heard Cho call after him as he made his way up the stairs. He felt restless, unsettled, and thought about picking up his paintbrush and seeing what happened. But when he got upstairs he lost all motivation and collapsed across his futon. He buried his face in a pillow for a moment before he felt a warm nose nuzzling at his elbow.
“Hey, boy,” he said to Noah, propping himself up on his elbows. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “What do you think? Would it be crazy to call him right now?”
Noah sniffed the phone and promptly began licking Zach’s hand. “Alright, alright,” Zach said, laughing, as he pushed Noah’s hairy face away. He sat up cross-legged on the bed and dialed Chris’s number.
**
“Hello?”
“Hey Chris.” Zach’s tone was subdued.
“Hi. Did I forget something?” If he were being honest with himself, Chris had been hoping Zach would call. He just…hadn’t expected it so soon.
“No, um, this is going to sound weird, but are you back to your place yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Would you want to…stay out for a little while longer? Maybe drink a couple forties in the park or something?”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. I could do that.”
“Sweet. I’ll grab the drinks and meet you there.”
“Great. See you in a minute.”
Chris had already arrived and gotten comfortable among the roots of a large oak tree, when he saw Zach approaching. He waved when he saw Zach peering into the darkness.
“Just you?” he asked, surprised and pleased to see that Zach was alone.
“Yeah,” Zach said, taking a seat. “I thought maybe we could just chill. I needed a break from the house, ya know?”
Chris chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand completely. I’d imagine that kind of communal living can get a little intense sometimes.”
“Yeah.” Zach handed him a forty, wrapped in a paper bag. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
“Yeah, of course,” Chris said, wondering if his earlier surliness had shown through. They uncapped their bottles and sat for a few moments, drinking in comfortable silence.
“What do you think of Cho?” Zach asked after a little while.
Chris bit his lip. He’d been hoping to avoid the topic of Cho entirely, but now that it was out there, he decided to go for it. "Was he your boyfriend or something?" Chris asked. It came out more abruptly than he’d intended.
"What?! Cho?!"
"Yeah."
"Fuck no!" Zach said, laughing. When his laughter trailed off, he turned toward Chris, his expression serious. "Is that what this is about?"
"What what is about?"
"The...avoiding me." Zach slid closer, until they were side by side against the wide tree trunk. Chris didn't answer for a moment, so Zach asked him softly, "Were you really sick on Sunday night?"
"Yes," Chris groaned, putting his face in his hands. His next words were muffled. "I was hungover as shit because I spent the entire weekend drinking because -“ Chris paused and swallowed hard, “because I was jealous of Cho." Chris squeezed his eyes shut behind his hands and waited for the fallout of his confession.
He felt Zach’s fingers scratch lightly at his lower back and heard the rustle of a paper bag as Zach lifted his bottle to his lips. Chris turned to looked at him, locking eyes as Zach took a long sip of the booze. He set the bottle down carefully, screwed the cap on, and then turned toward Chris, and they leaned in simultaneously for a kiss that felt like it had been waiting there for them all along. Chris had barely felt the pressure of Zach’s mouth on his before their lips were parting and their tongues sliding together and Zach’s hand was in his hair, pulling him closer. He felt like they’d been doing this for months, like he could keep doing it for months. Like they already knew how their lips fit together. Like a sigh of relief, and he felt himself relaxing under Zach’s touch.
Zach broke the kiss to press his lips to Chris’s jaw, and Chris’s voice was pained as he whispered against Zach’s skin in the darkness. “But, Cho’s been sleeping in your bed.”
Zach stroked his thumb along Chris’s cheek. “Oh Chris. If I’d had any idea that you wanted to be there, Cho would have been sleeping on the porch for the whole fucking week.”
Chris gave a rueful chuckle and pressed his lips to Zach’s again.
“Stay with me tonight?” Zach mumbled into the kiss.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut against the flood of warmth that rushed through him in response. He shook his head.
“Why not?”
“I just…fuck…just, not yet, okay?” He wasn’t sure why, except that he felt like he wanted to cry a little, and he thought he should probably get that out of his system before he embarrassed himself in Zach’s bed.
“Okay.” Zach’s quiet acquiescence almost made Chris change his mind, but instead he smiled and pulled Zach in to kiss some more.
**
Chris managed to wait until he was back in his room, in his bed with the lights out, before he pulled out his phone and dialed Zach’s number. It occurred to him that Zach might have gone to sleep already, but he answered on the first ring.
“Chris,” he said by way of greeting, his voice soft and sweet.
“I’m an idiot for not going home with you tonight, aren’t I?”
Zach’s laugh was low and intoxicating and Chris snuggled further under the covers to stop himself from getting up and running back to 4609 right then and there. “Yeah,” Zach agreed.
“Fuck,” said Chris, but he knew Zach could hear the smile in his voice.
“It’s okay,” Zach was saying. “It...wasn’t a one time offer.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey Z?”
“Yeah?”
“Come to a party with me tomorrow night?”
A beat passed before Zach answered, his voice cautious. “What kind of party?”
“A…house party.”
“Uh huh. What kind of house?”
“Okay, fine, it’s a frat party, but I swear it will be fun,” he said in a rush. “I won’t leave your side, and there’s free booze.” He really hoped one of those two would convince Zach to come.
“Free booze, huh?”
Chris laughed. That would be the one that worked. “Yeah, free booze.”
“And you won’t leave me alone to get eaten alive by bros wearing Abercrombie and Fitch?”
“Promise.”
“K.”
“You’ll come?!”
“I will.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Chris.”
Chris flopped onto his pillow, grinning so hard his eyes watered.
**
Chris picked up and put down his book ten times before he gave up and resorted to pacing around the living room as he waited for Zach to arrive. When he heard the knock on the door, he stopped to take a few deep, calming breaths, centering himself, not wanting to appear too eager. Another knock, and he was jumping over the back of the couch to get to it, all semblance of nonchalance lost as he opened the door to grin idiotically at Zach. Luckily, Zach was grinning back at him, and looking damn good doing it.
Chris let his eyes travel over Zach’s body, checking him out. Chris was startled to realize he’d probably been doing that every time he’d seen Zach, starting with the day they’d first met, when he was wearing those cargo pants and that tank top that showed off his biceps and - okay, he had definitely checked him out that day. As much as he’d liked the tank top, he had to admit that Zach looked amazing right now, standing at his door in a black t-shirt that looked as though it had been molded to fit his body and a pair of jeans that had come by their rips honestly and not for $115 at J. Crew. He was clean-shaven and smelled like non-patchouli scented soap and Chris had never really thought there was such a thing as sexy hair, but there it was.
“Christ, you clean up nice,” Chris said, when he’d taken it all in.
“I’ll try hard not to take offense to that comment,” Zach said with a smile as he stepped inside. They heard a door open down the hall and Karl stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He glanced at them and did a double take.
“Oh. Hey, Zach.”
“Hey, Karl.”
“You comin’ to the party tonight?”
“Yep.”
“Cool. Head out in twenty, Chris?”
“Sure thing,” Chris said, and Karl wandered down the hall into his room.
When the door shut, Zach pulled Chris to him by the waist, kissing him lightly on the lips before whispering, “Show me your room?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Chris whispered back.
“Why not?”
“Because,” Chris said, wrapping his arms around Zach’s neck, “I feel like you might try to seduce me, and then we’ll never leave.”
“Dammit,” Zach said, chuckling in his ear, “there goes my master plan.” He ran his hands up to cup Chris’s face. “Chris.” His tone was serious and Chris raised an eyebrow at him.
“What?”
“I want to kiss you all over your cute face.”
Chris laughed and blushed a little and said, “okay.” He lifted his eyes to meet Zach’s gaze and smiled as Zach kissed him tenderly on the lips. Chris could feel the energy humming between them, a desperate anticipation that had been building over the past two months, but they managed to keep their kisses sweet and shallow, tongues brushing just enough to remove any doubt that they were both waiting for more.
They pulled apart just seconds before Karl stepped into the hall to tell them he was ready to go. Chris made sure to leave the apartment first, subtly adjusting himself as they headed out the door and smiling as he noticed Zach doing the same.
**
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for Zach as they walked over to Pi Kappa and made their way inside. He did grab Zach’s wrist to pull him through the crowd toward the basement, as Karl was waylaid by a few of his crew buddies. Downstairs, his appearance was met with shouts of “Yo, Pine!” and he let go of Zach to greet what seemed like half of the entire basement. He shrugged apologetically, but Zach just smiled and looked impressed that he had other friends. Finally, they managed to make their way to the beer pong table.
“Do you want to be on my team?” Chris asked loudly enough to be heard over the pounding music.
Zach smirked at him. “Do you want to be on mine?”
Chris wouldn’t have guessed that they played a lot of beer pong at Sarah Lawrence, but Zach had obviously had practice, as he sunk the first two shots. Thank god, too, because Chris seemed to have lost all of the skill that he’d worked so hard to cultivate over three years of intense practice. Chris was acutely aware that his poor performance may have had something to do with the fact that Zach’s t-shirt stretched across his chest and clung to his biceps whenever he reached his long arm across the table to take a shot. Or that he ran a hand through his hair whenever he missed, a carefully calculated motion that resulted in every strand falling perfectly back into place. After his fifth atrocious turn, Chris set his focus, aimed, licked his lips, and took the shot. The ping pong ball circled the rim and dropped in, and when he turned to high five Zach he saw his eyes darken with lust, and he licked his lips again. Chris felt hot and dizzy and giddy with desire, but they were winning, and they managed to hold the table until Karl and Zoe found their way over and gave them a solid ass-kicking.
As the night progressed, Chris noticed that Zach stuck close to him, but didn’t touch, didn’t reach out and put an arm around him or anything else that might have made him uncomfortable in front of his friends. By the time they left the basement, Chris was going nearly crazy with it, and he reached over to slip his fingers through one of Zach’s belt loops as they headed up the stairs. Zach smiled shyly at the contact and let his fingers brush against Chris’s.
“You ready to get out of here?” Zach asked. “I don’t want to rush you, I mean…” He broke off into a smile as Chris tugged him all the way to the front door and pushed him out into the cool night.
**
They were barely inside the apartment before Zach grabbed Chris around the waist and pulled him in for a long kiss. And Chris might have stayed right there all night, but the sudden image of Zach sprawled on his bed and their clothes strewn across the bedroom floor had him breaking the kiss and tugging Zach insistently down the hall.
“I swear to god, Chris,” Zach said, letting Chris lead him, “if I have to wait one more second to get my hands on you, I’m going to explode.”
Chris yanked him into the bedroom, shut the door, and pressed Zach up against it. “Just your hands?” he breathed, sliding his up and under Zach’s t-shirt.
“Hands, lips,” Zach said, kissing and sucking at his neck, “everything.” He slid a hand down to Chris’s ass and pushed their hips together. “You were driving me crazy all night, you have no idea.”
“Shut up,” Chris groaned, “I swear half the fraternity was checking you out.” He licked into Zach’s mouth, tasting cheap beer and remembering the sweet anticipation that had been burning through him all night. “Want you so bad, Zach, fuck,” he said, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Zach sounded just as far gone, he could barely take his lips off of Chris to ask him “What, Chris, what do you want, god, fuckin’, anything,” and then their mouths met again like magnets and they had to stop talking again. Chris pulled Zach by the hips toward the bed, loathe to stop kissing long enough to make the suggestion, but Zach got the idea fast enough and they tumbled onto Chris’s twin bed.
Zach fumbled at the buttons of Chris’s shirt until it fell open, and he could run his hand over Chris’s chest, and down his sides, and slide a hand around to rub wantonly at the bulge in his jeans. Chris moaned into Zach’s mouth and pressed into his hand, and his skin felt like electricity. But Zach was pulling back from the kiss, breathless. “I’m sorry,” he panted, moving his hand away from Chris’s crotch, and Chris whimpered and clutched at him, trying to bring him back.
“What’s wrong?”
Zach propped himself on an elbow, still pressed along Chris’s side, and ran a hand through his hair. “I just…I have to ask you something.”
“Okay,” Chris said, breathing hard, his hand wrapped around Zach’s bicep to make sure he couldn’t get away. “Hurry up and ask, and then kiss me again.”
“Is this some kind of…experimentation thing for you?” Zach asked, his eyes focused on his fingers as he ran them idly across Chris’s chest, as if he didn’t want to see the answer on Chris’s face.
Chris gripped his chin and made him look, pulled him down to kiss him hard, plunging his tongue deep into Zach’s mouth, making him feel it. Then he let go, holding Zach’s gaze for a moment before softly saying, “No, Z. It’s not. I got that out of my system freshman year.” He tipped his forehead against Zach’s and took a deep breath. “I really like you.”
Zach closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded against his forehead. “I’m glad,” he breathed.
“Can I experiment with kissing you again now?” Chris asked, and in answer Zach cut off his grin with a kiss. Chris slid his hand down Zach’s arm, taking hold of his hand and pressing it against his crotch again, and Zach chuckled against his jaw. But he pressed his palm over the line of Chris’s cock and Chris groaned and pushed Zach’s hand away to undo his own fly, and Zach’s fingers twitched as he waited to touch. And when he did, he breathed hot against Chris’s neck as he worked his hand into Chris’s boxers, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he wrapped his fist around Chris’s length, hot and hard and perfect in his hand.
“God, Chris, fuck, want you so bad, fuckin’…” He paused and leaned back a little. “How long have we known each other?”
Chris tilted his head up a little to catch Zach’s eye. “Um…like two months?”
Zach leaned back down to kiss and lick at Chris’s collarbone. “Mmm…I’ve been wanting to do this for two fucking months.”
Chris groaned and pushed his fingers into Zach’s hair as Zach moved down, licking over his nipples, running his hands over Chris’s ribs and finally pressing his jeans and boxers down over his hips. He pressed his nose and lips against Chris’s pelvis, letting Chris’s cock bump against his cheek as he took in his scent, feeling how Chris was responding to him, the play of muscles underneath his skin, the rapid sound of his breathing. Zach glanced up to see Chris watching him, his eyes hooded with desire, and Zach smiled and licked a sloppy trail up his dick. Chris stilled completely, breathed deeply, and let Zach take control. He let out an involuntarily moan when he felt the heat of Zach’s mouth over the tip, but that was nothing compared to the seal of Zach’s lips around his cock. Zach bobbed his head so Chris could watch his dick sliding in and out of Zach’s mouth, glistening wetly in the dim light, and he was already feeling close when Zach took his entire length in and sucked him hard. He was moaning incoherently, trying to give some sort of warning when Zach looked up at him and winked, and he was gone, his cock pulsing hard as Zach swallowed with ease.
Zach pulled off and smiled up at him, dropping kisses on his thighs and stomach as he moved back up the bed. Chris wanted to smile back but instead he just opened and closed his mouth a few times, and when he did manage to speak it was to groan and say “fuck.” Then they were kissing again and Chris only pulled away to gasp, “Where the fuck have you been all my life?”
Zach laughed and Chris reached for his fly, and Zach helped him and together they got his pants off and Chris wrapped a hand around him and stroked him and said, “Is this okay?”
Zach laughed and thrust his hips a little and said, “Fuck yes,” and Chris focused, pumping his fist harder, thinking of everything he liked and trying to make it even better for Zach. And it must have worked, but it wasn’t long before Zach’s kisses were getting sloppier and his breath was coming faster and he panted into Chris’s ear, “Oh god, Chris, I’m gonna come, shit-“
Chris managed two more swift strokes before Zach shuddered, and Chris felt a hot splash across his stomach. When he caught his breath, Zach looked up at Chris slyly, and he leaned down to run his tongue along Chris’s hipbone, licking a trail through the come decorating his skin.
“Holy fucking Christ,” Chris gasped weakly, staring down at Zach in disbelief.
Zach licked his lips and looked up at him. “What? Gross?”
“Fuck no. Just…nngh…so hot I think my brain might explode.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, just…fucking get up here and kiss the fuck out of me with your hot, filthy mouth.”
Zach scrambled up the bed and pressed his tongue into Chris’s mouth, their hands roaming over each others’ bodies as they kissed. When Zach pulled away, it was only to run his fingers along Chris’s cheek and look him in the eye to ask, “How the hell did I get so lucky?”
Chris’s eyes sparkled as he kissed Zach tenderly on the lips. “I was asking myself the same thing.”
“Hey Zach,” Chris began, when their mouths were tired from kissing and they lay tangled together under the sheet.
“Yeah?”
“Why did you ask me that before, about experimenting?”
“I…well, Cho said something…
“Really, Zach? You’re gonna bring up Cho while you’re in bed with me?”
“Hear me out, okay? Cho is the reason I ever even thought this –“ he gestured between them, “could be a possibility. So, actually, you kinda owe him. Since you sure as hell weren’t making the first move.”
Chris punched him gently in the shoulder. “Shut up,” he mumbled. “I might have made a move…eventually.”
“Yeah, eventually, like, in the spring you probably would have asked me to the prom or some shit.”
“Shut up!” Chris said, laughing now, hitting him a little harder.
“And what did you mean, anyway, when you said you got that out of your system freshman year, huh?” Zach asked playfully. “You gonna fill me in on the details, or what?”
“Ugh, please, don’t make me think about that…misguided period of my life.”
“It couldn’t have been that misguided. It certainly left an impression on you,” Zach said, propping himself up on an elbow.
“Yeah, well, believe me, if I’d been hooking up with guys like you, I’d have no problem remembering it.”
“Like me how?”
“Hot. Smart. Not a douchebag. Gorgeous. Intelligent. Shall I go on?”
Zach laughed. “So you spent your freshman year hooking up with ugly, dumb, douchebags?”
“No, I spent, like, one whole month trying to stick my tongue down the throat of every closeted senior frat boy that looked twice at me. Oh god, I feel ill just thinking about it. Please, make the memory go away,” he groaned, pulling Zach’s lips to his.
“Better?” Zach asked after a long moment.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Stop what?”
“Experimenting.”
“Oh. Um. I kinda ended up getting with one of their girlfriends. We dated for like six months.”
“Really? You stud.”
“Yeah. She gave great head – well, actually, before tonight, I thought she gave great head. I’ve since been enlightened.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And in case you’re going to ask, since then it’s just been random hookups – with girls – and one stressful, dysfunctional fling with a chick getting her PhD in Women’s Studies.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. So, in conclusion, I’m finished experimenting.”
“And again, I ask – how the hell did I get so lucky?”
**
Chris was in the kitchen filling up a glass of water when Karl stepped into the apartment, shutting the door softly behind him. He jumped when he saw Chris standing by the sink, looking at him with a knowing grin.
“How’s Zoe?” Chris asked cheekily.
“Whatever,” grumbled Karl.
“So I guess you went to her place last night?”
It was Karl’s turn to fix him with a knowing look. “Yeah? Want to talk about who you took home last night?” he asked, gesturing toward the bedroom.
Chris blushed. “How did you-“
“Because I have eyes, Pine. Give me a little credit. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive last night. Plus, I know all about your experimental phase freshman year, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, wincing at the memory of how Karl had made that particular discovery.
“He still in there?” Karl asked, nodding toward the bedroom.
Chris nodded.
“I’m just stopping in to grab a couple things, then I’ll make myself scarce.”
“Thanks, man” Chris said, avoiding his eyes.
“Chris.” The low earnest tone of Karl’s voice made him look up to meet his friend’s eye. “Zach’s a cool guy.” He paused, flustered for a moment. “You, uh…you think you got a real thing going with him, or what?”
Chris glanced longingly down the hall to the closed door of his bedroom, then back to Karl as a small smile played about his lips. “I guess…I hope so.”
Yeah, he thought, as he snuck quietly back into his bedroom to find Zach still sleeping, sprawled across his bed, shirtless and tangled in his sheets. He could get used to that, so yeah, he fucking hoped so.
Continue to Chapter 3
Author:
therumjournalsWord Count: This chapter - 8,650 (Total - 35,500)
Previous: Chapter 1
(Header details at the Master Post)
Chris had his finger poised above Zach’s number on his phone around 2 PM every afternoon that week, but each time something stopped him from dialing. He didn’t want to come off like a clingy stalker, but he wasn’t really sure what to say. “I want to spend some quality time with your dog?” “I’ve been in college for three years and yet there is no one here that I’d actually like to hang out with?” “I think you’re cool and funny and every time I catch a whiff of patchouli I think about the first day we met?” Yeah, no. And since he had no idea what would actually come out of his mouth, he decided it was just too risky to make the call.
He was thinking about it again on Thursday afternoon, actually holding the phone in his hand, when Zach called. It was a beautiful day, he said, and he was planning to walk Noah to the park, and would Chris want to meet up with him and maybe throw a disc around? Yes, yes he would.
*
Zach let Noah off the leash when he saw Chris walking across the grass in Clark Park. “Noah!” Chris cried, spreading his arms, and Noah bounded toward him at full speed, nearly knocking him over. Chris stood up when Zach got close, laughing and rubbing happily at Noah’s head.
“Hey Zach, thanks man, this is great. I really do love this dog.”
“He appears to be quite fond of you,” Zach said. “Just don’t let him start humping your leg, okay? He tends to try to move things along in a relationship.”
They walked around the park, then played a little Frisbee. Chris tried to get Noah interested in a game of fetch, to which Noah just gave him a raised eyebrow – that looked quite similar to Zach’s, Chris noticed – and lay down under a tree. Zach was leashing Noah up to take him home when his phone rang.
“Hello? Yeah, I’m still planning to go. What? Come on, don’t do that to me. Fuck you, Summer. Uh huh. Okay, I’ll do that. You cooking for me later, sweetcheeks? K, great. See you soon.” He hung up, rolling his eyes. “Fucking Summer, I knew she’d do this.”
“Do what?”
“Back out on me. We’re supposed to go to a concert on Tuesday night. This band Freelance Whales is playing at the Rotunda and I’ve been wanting to see them live, and now Summer’s decided to go chain herself to a tank or something.”
“Really?!”
“Actually, I have no idea what she’s doing, I stopped listening. Anyway, it’s no big deal, the tickets were only like ten bucks, but it just sucks to go by myself.” He looked at Chris, inspired. “Hey, I don’t suppose you’d want to go?”
“Um, sure.”
“Really? You like that kind of music?”
“I have no idea. But, I’ll go with you, and mock you relentlessly for being a hipster, and you won’t look as lame as you would standing there by yourself.”
Zach laughed. “Well shit, how could I turn down an offer like that?”
“What can I say, I’m a giver.”
“Alright, well, give me a call on Tuesday and we can plan to meet up before the concert.”
**
When Zach came to the door of 4609 on Tuesday evening, Chris raised his eyebrows and asked, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?”
“Please tell me this…ensemble…is intended to be ironic,” Chris said, gesturing to Zach’s outfit.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Zach asked, taking offense.
“Well, nothing, if your goal is to meet every hipster stereotype known to man.” Zach was wearing skinny jeans with rolled up cuffs, a blue plaid shirt, a trucker hat, and a pair of chunky black glasses. Chris couldn’t help but think back to the tank top and paint splattered cargoes Zach had been wearing when they first met, and which, upon reflection, he probably shouldn’t be able to visualize so clearly in his mind.
“Yeah, well, come in here,” Zach demanded.
“What? I thought we had to go.”
“We do, but I cannot be seen with you wearing…that,” Zach said, pointing to Chris’s zip-up hoodie that said Abercrombie and Fitch across the front. “Come upstairs.”
Chris rolled his eyes, but followed Zach dutifully to the third floor. Zach’s room was a large space, probably intended to be an attic, but surprisingly light and airy. Most of the space seemed to be used as Zach’s studio – painted canvases had been propped against the walls and plywood boards laid across bricks served as shelves to keep the paint supplies out of Noah’s reach. The “bedroom” part consisted of a futon, a doggie bed, and a dresser, through which Zach was currently rummaging. “Here,” he said, pulling out a blue and black striped hoodie. “This one matches your eyes.”
“Nice,” said Chris, as he pulled it on. “Where’d you get it?”
“Second Mile. It’s a thrift store? Down the street?” he said, in response to Chris’s confused look.
“Ah. I thought hipsters got everything from American Apparel?”
Zach shook his head as they headed down the stairs. “That’s only hipsters with parental incomes.”
“Of course.”
“Like Summer,” Zach whispered.
Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“Yeah, hence the ability to pay the rent and invest in new hobbies. She grew up on the Main Line. I think she’s convinced her parents that she’s studying the West Philadelphia squatter culture as part of her dissertation or some shit. It’s pretty impressive, actually.”
“What about your parents?”
“It’s just my mom, actually. She’s still in Pittsburgh. My dad died when I was young.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
Zach shrugged.
“Is your mom cool with you being an artist?”
“She just wants me to be happy, I think. As long as I can support myself…and it’s not like she has a choice. I don’t think I could not be an artist, you know what I mean?”
Chris didn’t, really, but he nodded anyway. He couldn’t help but admire Zach’s ability to make his way in the world and to do it exactly how he wanted to. Chris harbored a vague hope that he’d be able to do the same thing, but he had no way of knowing yet if he’d be able to when the time came. His parents had always been focused on grades and extracurricular activities, getting into a good school, succeeding in a good school, and then…he wasn’t quite sure what came next. He changed the subject before Zach could ask.
They grabbed drinks after the concert, then parted ways with a non-committal “see you around.” Chris felt vaguely disappointed that they hadn’t made any plans to hang out again, and wondered if the past week had been a fluke, if maybe it hadn’t been a build up to a real friendship as he’d hoped. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a friend without the crutch of shared classes and dorm halls, and he found the prospect rather exhilarating.
**
Chris thought about Zach a few times over the course of the next week – thought about inviting him to a frat party, then to half-priced margarita night at Mad Mex – but he stopped himself each time, feeling like those things were immature and shallow and not at all things that would interest Zach. He even considered asking Karl if they could throw a party in their apartment, just as an excuse to invite Zach. But, that wasn’t really what he wanted. He wanted to…hang out, to talk about life and blabber on about his playwriting class and listen to Zach blabber on about the art scene in Philadelphia. After class the next Tuesday, he had almost justified heading out to Fuego just to see if he could run into Zach. Or maybe he could just…Fuck it. He pulled out his phone and dialed Zach’s number.
The call went straight to voicemail, and though he was tempted to hang up, he forced himself to leave a message. “Uh, hey Zach, it’s Chris. Um, I’m bored as shit and I was wondering if you might want to, uh, hang out or something. Like we could-“ he paused, trying desperately to think of something he could suggest- “grab drinks or something,” he finished lamely. “So, give me a call. Um, bye.” He hung up and reflected on the absolute travesty that was that message, and he was still holding the phone five minutes later when Zach called back.
“Hello?”
“Hey man, I’m kind of in the middle of a thing here, but you should totally come by 4609 if you want to hang out for a while.”
“Yeah? Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt…”
“No, come over, I’ll be done soon and we can grab drinks or something, like you said. I’ve been painting for like three days straight, I could use some social interaction.”
“Okay. I’ll, uh, just head on over then.”
“Sweet. See ya soon.”
**
Chris rang the doorbell twice, knocked a few times, and was about ready to turn around and leave when he finally heard footsteps inside. Harvest pulled open the door, glanced at Chris, and turned back into the house, saying “Zach’s upstairs. And next time you can just come right in.”
“Um, okay,” Chris said, surprised, but he went inside and took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor.
He stood in the doorway for a few minutes, watching Zach paint and shake his hips to the sound of Womanizer coming from the iPod speakers on the floor. Noah glanced up lazily from his doggie bed in the corner, gave Chris a discerning look, and set his head back down, bored.
“Was that Britney?” Chris said when the song ended. “That could seriously damage your hipster cred, you know.”
Zach startled at the sound of Chris’s voice, but he was focused on the canvas and he answered without turning around. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to balance the hipster cred with the fag cred, ya know? It’s a very fine line.” He finished the line he was painting with a flourish and turned around, smiling at Chris where he was leaning on the doorframe.
“Okay, so, shouldn’t you be listening to Lady Gaga then? Kill two birds with one stone?” Chris mused.
Zach threw his head back and laughed. “You’re funny,” he said, pointing at Chris with his paintbrush. “That was good. I’m gonna use that,” he said, turning back to the painting, as though he couldn’t look away from it for too long, or he’d lose his inspiration.
Chris walked across the room and sank down to the floor to give Noah a good scratch between his ears. Zach glanced back at him.
“I knew you were only here to hang out with my dog,” he said.
“Hey, could you butt out; we’re having a moment here.”
“I see how it is. You’ve got ten minutes, then I plan to monopolize your attentions.”
Noah turned over onto his back, and Chris scratched his belly to the sound of happy panting. After a few minutes, though, Chris stepped away from the dog and moved over to peruse the piles of books that surrounded Zach’s futon. He was a good ten pages into The Crying of Lot 49 when Zach finally set down his paintbrush and wiped his hands on his cargo pants. “You ready for that drink?”
“Sure,” Chris said distractedly, finishing his paragraph and setting the book face down on Zach’s bed to keep his place. “Fuego?”
“Seems a shame to be inside on such a nice day. Wanna just go to the bodega around the corner and pick up a couple forties, drink them on the porch?”
“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all week.”
**
“It should be illegal for something this cheap to get me this fucked up,” Chris groaned, dropping his empty bottle onto the porch as he slumped further into the couch.
“I know, right,” said Zach, who had given up sitting completely and was lying on his back with his feet over the side.
“Think I’m gonna head back. Shit.”
“What?”
“I meant to ask if I could borrow your book.” Chris looked mournfully at the front door and thought about walking up two flights of stairs. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Come back tomorrow.”
“What?”
“Come back over tomorrow, you can read it here.” Zach patted the couch.
“I have class.”
“Fine, the next day, then. Whatever. Bring your homework. Bring a six-pack. I’ll make dinner.”
“Uh huh. That sounds like a recipe for getting no work done whatsoever.”
“Fine,” said Zach, sitting up. “Far be it from me to deprive the library of your presence. I’m just sayin’, it’s a comfy couch.”
*
It was a comfy couch, and Chris found himself there more afternoons than not over the next couple weeks. He finished The Crying of Lot 49 and perfected the art of reading literature through a pleasant haze of red wine and cool autumn air. Half the time, he was there by himself while Zach painted upstairs or was out of the house running errands. The other roommates didn’t blink an eye at his presence, except to stop and exchange a few sentences, steal a sip of whatever he was drinking, or bring him a plate of hummus and veggies. The rest of the time, Zach would join him with a book of his own, and only a few times did Chris realize that they’d both set their books down and had been talking for hours, and he had to get himself back to campus so he could actually get some work done.
*
Chris banged in through the door of the apartment to find Karl making a gigantic sandwich, using what appeared to be every ingredient in the kitchen. “Hey Karl.”
“Hey. You coming to Zoe’s tonight to watch Lost?”
“Uh, shit. I can’t, I really have to get an outline done for this paper.”
Karl rolled his eyes. “Come on, I barely see you any more, man!”
“You barely see me ever, Karl. Your schedule is whack.”
“Uh huh.”
“And I’ve been spending a lot of time off-campus,” Chris muttered.
“With that guy Zach? You guys have got kind of an epic bromance going, haven’t you?” Karl asked cheekily.
“I don’t even know what that means, Karl,” Chris said, raising an eyebrow. “We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okay.”
“Speaking of which, you and Zo seem to be hovering on the edge of something that history has shown to be a bad idea. What’s up with that?”
“We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking,” Karl said, throwing his words back at him.
Chris rolled his eyes. “You around this week?”
“A bit.”
“We’ll hang out soon, I promise.”
Karl nodded and took a massive bite of his sandwich.
**
Chris was back at 4609 the next day, sprawled on the couch facing Zach, both immersed in their own books as they passed a bottle of cheap wine lazily between them. Chris felt warm and content, despite the light drizzle that was falling just beyond the porch roof. He turned a page and accepted the bottle of wine from Zach when they heard a shout from the sidewalk.
“Yo, asshole!” someone yelled, and Chris felt his body tense, ready to face some punkass neighborhood kids.
But Zach was looking up from his book and grinning, yelling “Choseph!” and leaping down the porch steps into the arms of a grinning Asian guy with a messy mohawk and a beat up duffel bag across his back.
Chris felt his chest tighten at the sight of Zach with his arms wrapped tightly around the guy, who looked thrilled to be the recipient of that hug. Zach pulled back and kissed him on the forehead, then wrinkled his nose. “Phew, man, you stink.”
“That’s rich, coming from you, Quinto,” Cho said with a grin. “New roommate?” He nodded toward the porch, and Chris plastered on a smile and extended a hand.
“New friend. Cho, this is Chris, Chris, Cho. Cho used to live with us, what was it, six, seven months ago?” Cho shrugged as if time were the least of his concerns. “Told us he was leaving, hopped a freight, and headed West, right?”
Cho nodded. “Yup. Made it all the way to San Fran, baby!”
“Jesus, Cho, why the hell’d you come back here?”
“Missed Fuego,” Cho said with a wink. “The West Coast man, I don’t know. Just not my style. I missed the iron and the grit.”
“Filthadelphia.”
“Hells yeah, Thrilladelphia.” They laughed, so obviously comfortable with each other that Chris felt distinctly out of place, and a gnawing in his gut convinced him that it was time to go.
“I think I’m gonna head back to campus,” he said, grabbing his backpack and heading off the porch.
“You go to Penn?”
“Yeah.” Chris saw Cho flash Zach a look that seemed to ask “what’s happened to you since I left?”
Zach ignored Cho’s look and turned to Chris, shoving his hands in his pockets and giving him a shy look. “Come out to Fuego tonight though? Once everyone finds out Cho’s back in town it’s gonna be a party for reals.”
Chris felt his heart jump in his chest at the pleading tone that he could sense in Zach’s voice, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going to Fuego. Still, he shrugged and said “yeah, maybe” before he turned to go.
He could still hear Zach’s voice behind him as he made his way down the block. “You’re staying with me, man,” Zach was saying to Cho, “and I don’t want to hear it. You can do your noble homeless act later, tonight you’re getting a shower and a real bed.”
“A real bed?” he heard Cho ask skeptically.
“Okay, fine, half a futon, but no complaining or you can trade places with Noah.”
Chris heard the screen door slam as they stepped inside, and he picked up his pace as he made his way home through the rain.
*
His phone rang at 3:30 the next day and he answered it on the first ring, suddenly realizing that he’d been waiting all day for Zach to call.
“Hey,” he said blandly, tamping down his excitement.
“You didn’t come by last night,” Zach said. He sounded…hurt? Or maybe he was just surprised. Now that Chris thought about it, it was the first time he’d turned down an invitation from Zach.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“What happened? Frat party or something?”
Actually, it had been a Project Runway marathon at Zoe’s - a chance to catch up with his friends, gorge on pepperoni pizza, watch shitty reality TV, and bitch about grades and graduation requirements.
“Nah, I just had some shit to do.”
He could practically hear Zach chewing on his lip as he searched for a response. “Yeah. Well, you missed a sweet party. People were asking about you.”
Chris felt a pang of regret and pushed it to the back of his mind.
“And you shoulda heard some of Cho’s stories.”
“Yeah, he seemed cool. I just figured you guys might want some time to catch up and stuff.”
“Yeah, well, he’s probably gonna stay with us for a little while, so you should come over soon and hear about his adventures. Some crazy shit, man. He was telling us how he went skinny dipping this one time and-“
“Look, I gotta go, Zach, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? I just, I’ve got some work I have to finish before class.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, later man.”
“Yeah. Later.”
**
Chris avoided 46th Street and Fuego for a few more days, and Zach didn’t call again. Chris found himself wondering if that was it, if he had been an entertaining diversion while Cho was gone and now that Zach had his real friend back, he’d been effectively forgotten. He got his papers written, read ahead for class, started drinking on Friday at 5:00 and didn’t stop until Saturday at 3:00 AM. He spent Sunday vomiting into every single trashcan in the apartment, to Karl’s immense displeasure.
“You’re a wreck, Pine. What the fuck happened to you? And how come your friend Zach isn’t here to hold your hair back, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not doin’ it.”
Chris scowled at him, gave him the finger, and dry heaved into the kitchen trashcan.
“That’s disgusting. I’m outta here, take care of yourself alright?”
“Where you going?” Chris managed to ask, his voice scratchy.
“Library,” Karl said shortly, and Chris narrowed his eyes.
“Oh yeah? If I call Zoe, will she tell me she’s going to the library too?”
Karl flushed a little. “We’re studying together, is that allowed?”
“Whatever. Just, when you guys do it, do it in the science stacks, okay? I don’t want your jizz all over my literature.”
“I’m gonna come on Keats, just for you.”
“I’m going to vomit on your pillow.”
“You’d better not,” Karl called back to him as he shut the door.
Chris slumped dejectedly onto the couch and fell into a restless doze, until he was awakened by the buzz of his phone. He answered before he even thought to check who it was.
“’Lo,” he said groggily.
“Hey, Chris.” Fuck, it was Zach. “We’re getting a game of night Ultimate going in Clark Park, you want in?”
“Fuck, Zach, I can’t even move right now,” he said gruffly, annoyed at Zach for calling and at himself for wanting to go and at his stomach for not letting him.
“Fine,” Zach said curtly. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”
“Uh, have fun?” Chris said weakly, trying to salvage something.
“Sure,” Zach said, ending the call.
**
Chris broke down and called Zach on Tuesday night.
“Hello?”
“Hey Zach, it’s Chris.”
“Yeah, I saw.”
Chris bit his lip and struggled to think of what to say. “Look, I really was sick the other night.”
“Okay.”
“You, uh…you want to hang out some time?” Or are you busy with Cho, he wanted to add.
“Um. Okay. House dinner’s tomorrow night, you wanna come?”
“What’s for dinner? You know how I feel about weird grains and shit,” he said, trying to get a hold of that joking ease that he’d missed over the past week.
“We’re having pasta,” Zach said, ignoring Chris’s comment. “Fresh tomato sauce. I’m making it.”
“Well, I suppose I could make an appearance,” Chris said, and his stomach clenched in a way that he decided not to think about.
“Starts at seven.”
“Right. See you then.”
He hung up the phone, and thought about the feelings that were rushing through him. He thought about seeing Zach again, and he felt his heart speed up. That sure as hell didn’t happen when he thought about grabbing dinner with Karl.
Fuck.
**
Chris walked into 4609 without knocking, like he’d been doing for the past few weeks. It felt different now, and when Summer smiled at him from the couch and said “Zach’s in the kitchen,” he somehow felt like he’d been caught. He shook his head at the thought and headed through the house, swallowing hard when he caught sight of Zach’s long frame standing with his back to Chris at the stove. Chris forced himself to be casual, tried to remember how it had been between him and Zach, as he leaned back against the counter.
“Hey, Zach.”
“Hey,” Zach said, shooting him a small smile before turning his attention back to the pot.
Missed you, Chris almost said, and maybe that would have been normal, maybe that would have been fine, but he swallowed it back nonetheless and stood there awkwardly for a long moment.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Zach said, still looking at the pot. “You can have a seat.” He called everyone to the table and Chris took a seat, trying not to feel annoyed when Rachel and Harvest sat down on either side of him. Zach dished out the food and ended up at the opposite corner of the table, next to Cho. Chris felt a giddy sense of nervousness throughout dinner, contributing little to the conversation except to laugh somewhat excessively at Zach’s lame jokes. The food was delicious, but it was all he could do to make himself force it down into his clenched-tight stomach. Chris was actually thankful for Cho, who held everyone’s attention through most of dinner, which meant that Chris could watch Zach watch Cho, watch how he quirked an eyebrow right before he was about to make a joke, watch how he threw his head back whenever he laughed. A few times, Zach caught Chris’s eye across the table, but his expression was always inscrutable, no matter how long Chris looked back.
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Chris?” Rachel asked. Chris saw Zach glance up at him quickly as he turned to answer.
“Oh, uh. Not sure. Last year Karl and I had an ‘80’s movie marathon and gorged ourselves on Boston Market. I know we’ll both be around, and probably Zoe will, too.”
“You guys should come here,” said Summer. “We’re feeding all the strays,” she added with a wink.
“Don’t listen to them,” Cho interjected, laughing. “They invite as many people as they can and then make you pay for the booze.”
“If the food’s as good as tonight’s dinner, I think that would be a pretty fair deal,” Chris managed to respond, not looking at Zach.
“Well, you’ve got three weeks to decide,” said Zach, leaning back in his chair. “So, you know. Let us know.”
**
Zach walked Chris to the door and shoved his hands deep in his pockets as he said goodbye. He was still staring down the block after Chris had turned the corner when Cho joined him on the porch.
“That Penn kid’s gone on you, man. You hit that yet?”
“Jesus, Cho, could you be a little more crude?” Zach said, finally tearing his eyes away from the street.
“I’m just callin’ it like I see it. You haven’t, have you?”
Zach blushed and shook his head.
“Fuck, look at you, you’ve got it just as bad for him!”
“I have no idea if he’s even gay, Cho.”
“Who the fuck cares if he is? He’s a senior in college, he’s got to get his experimentation on before he leaves the bubble and enters the real world. It’s practically your duty to help him out.”
“I find it humorous that you consider where you live the real world, Cho.”
“Pshh, whatever, dude. Go ahead, avoid the question if you want. Just, please, promise me that at some point, you’ll get him drunk and stick your tongue down his throat. I guarantee you’ll be pleased with the results.”
“And I guarantee that if that ever happens, you will not be informed as to the results.”
Cho grinned knowingly. “I just want you to be happy, dude.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, getting someone drunk and jumping them is my definition of happiness. Yeah, right. You thrive on gossip, Cho, it’s kind of demented.”
Cho leaned back against the porch rail. “Harvest seeing anyone?”
“Goodnight, Cho,” Zach said, rolling his eyes and heading back into the house.
“Night, loverboy,” he heard Cho call after him as he made his way up the stairs. He felt restless, unsettled, and thought about picking up his paintbrush and seeing what happened. But when he got upstairs he lost all motivation and collapsed across his futon. He buried his face in a pillow for a moment before he felt a warm nose nuzzling at his elbow.
“Hey, boy,” he said to Noah, propping himself up on his elbows. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “What do you think? Would it be crazy to call him right now?”
Noah sniffed the phone and promptly began licking Zach’s hand. “Alright, alright,” Zach said, laughing, as he pushed Noah’s hairy face away. He sat up cross-legged on the bed and dialed Chris’s number.
**
“Hello?”
“Hey Chris.” Zach’s tone was subdued.
“Hi. Did I forget something?” If he were being honest with himself, Chris had been hoping Zach would call. He just…hadn’t expected it so soon.
“No, um, this is going to sound weird, but are you back to your place yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Would you want to…stay out for a little while longer? Maybe drink a couple forties in the park or something?”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. I could do that.”
“Sweet. I’ll grab the drinks and meet you there.”
“Great. See you in a minute.”
Chris had already arrived and gotten comfortable among the roots of a large oak tree, when he saw Zach approaching. He waved when he saw Zach peering into the darkness.
“Just you?” he asked, surprised and pleased to see that Zach was alone.
“Yeah,” Zach said, taking a seat. “I thought maybe we could just chill. I needed a break from the house, ya know?”
Chris chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand completely. I’d imagine that kind of communal living can get a little intense sometimes.”
“Yeah.” Zach handed him a forty, wrapped in a paper bag. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
“Yeah, of course,” Chris said, wondering if his earlier surliness had shown through. They uncapped their bottles and sat for a few moments, drinking in comfortable silence.
“What do you think of Cho?” Zach asked after a little while.
Chris bit his lip. He’d been hoping to avoid the topic of Cho entirely, but now that it was out there, he decided to go for it. "Was he your boyfriend or something?" Chris asked. It came out more abruptly than he’d intended.
"What?! Cho?!"
"Yeah."
"Fuck no!" Zach said, laughing. When his laughter trailed off, he turned toward Chris, his expression serious. "Is that what this is about?"
"What what is about?"
"The...avoiding me." Zach slid closer, until they were side by side against the wide tree trunk. Chris didn't answer for a moment, so Zach asked him softly, "Were you really sick on Sunday night?"
"Yes," Chris groaned, putting his face in his hands. His next words were muffled. "I was hungover as shit because I spent the entire weekend drinking because -“ Chris paused and swallowed hard, “because I was jealous of Cho." Chris squeezed his eyes shut behind his hands and waited for the fallout of his confession.
He felt Zach’s fingers scratch lightly at his lower back and heard the rustle of a paper bag as Zach lifted his bottle to his lips. Chris turned to looked at him, locking eyes as Zach took a long sip of the booze. He set the bottle down carefully, screwed the cap on, and then turned toward Chris, and they leaned in simultaneously for a kiss that felt like it had been waiting there for them all along. Chris had barely felt the pressure of Zach’s mouth on his before their lips were parting and their tongues sliding together and Zach’s hand was in his hair, pulling him closer. He felt like they’d been doing this for months, like he could keep doing it for months. Like they already knew how their lips fit together. Like a sigh of relief, and he felt himself relaxing under Zach’s touch.
Zach broke the kiss to press his lips to Chris’s jaw, and Chris’s voice was pained as he whispered against Zach’s skin in the darkness. “But, Cho’s been sleeping in your bed.”
Zach stroked his thumb along Chris’s cheek. “Oh Chris. If I’d had any idea that you wanted to be there, Cho would have been sleeping on the porch for the whole fucking week.”
Chris gave a rueful chuckle and pressed his lips to Zach’s again.
“Stay with me tonight?” Zach mumbled into the kiss.
Chris squeezed his eyes shut against the flood of warmth that rushed through him in response. He shook his head.
“Why not?”
“I just…fuck…just, not yet, okay?” He wasn’t sure why, except that he felt like he wanted to cry a little, and he thought he should probably get that out of his system before he embarrassed himself in Zach’s bed.
“Okay.” Zach’s quiet acquiescence almost made Chris change his mind, but instead he smiled and pulled Zach in to kiss some more.
**
Chris managed to wait until he was back in his room, in his bed with the lights out, before he pulled out his phone and dialed Zach’s number. It occurred to him that Zach might have gone to sleep already, but he answered on the first ring.
“Chris,” he said by way of greeting, his voice soft and sweet.
“I’m an idiot for not going home with you tonight, aren’t I?”
Zach’s laugh was low and intoxicating and Chris snuggled further under the covers to stop himself from getting up and running back to 4609 right then and there. “Yeah,” Zach agreed.
“Fuck,” said Chris, but he knew Zach could hear the smile in his voice.
“It’s okay,” Zach was saying. “It...wasn’t a one time offer.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey Z?”
“Yeah?”
“Come to a party with me tomorrow night?”
A beat passed before Zach answered, his voice cautious. “What kind of party?”
“A…house party.”
“Uh huh. What kind of house?”
“Okay, fine, it’s a frat party, but I swear it will be fun,” he said in a rush. “I won’t leave your side, and there’s free booze.” He really hoped one of those two would convince Zach to come.
“Free booze, huh?”
Chris laughed. That would be the one that worked. “Yeah, free booze.”
“And you won’t leave me alone to get eaten alive by bros wearing Abercrombie and Fitch?”
“Promise.”
“K.”
“You’ll come?!”
“I will.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Chris.”
Chris flopped onto his pillow, grinning so hard his eyes watered.
**
Chris picked up and put down his book ten times before he gave up and resorted to pacing around the living room as he waited for Zach to arrive. When he heard the knock on the door, he stopped to take a few deep, calming breaths, centering himself, not wanting to appear too eager. Another knock, and he was jumping over the back of the couch to get to it, all semblance of nonchalance lost as he opened the door to grin idiotically at Zach. Luckily, Zach was grinning back at him, and looking damn good doing it.
Chris let his eyes travel over Zach’s body, checking him out. Chris was startled to realize he’d probably been doing that every time he’d seen Zach, starting with the day they’d first met, when he was wearing those cargo pants and that tank top that showed off his biceps and - okay, he had definitely checked him out that day. As much as he’d liked the tank top, he had to admit that Zach looked amazing right now, standing at his door in a black t-shirt that looked as though it had been molded to fit his body and a pair of jeans that had come by their rips honestly and not for $115 at J. Crew. He was clean-shaven and smelled like non-patchouli scented soap and Chris had never really thought there was such a thing as sexy hair, but there it was.
“Christ, you clean up nice,” Chris said, when he’d taken it all in.
“I’ll try hard not to take offense to that comment,” Zach said with a smile as he stepped inside. They heard a door open down the hall and Karl stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He glanced at them and did a double take.
“Oh. Hey, Zach.”
“Hey, Karl.”
“You comin’ to the party tonight?”
“Yep.”
“Cool. Head out in twenty, Chris?”
“Sure thing,” Chris said, and Karl wandered down the hall into his room.
When the door shut, Zach pulled Chris to him by the waist, kissing him lightly on the lips before whispering, “Show me your room?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Chris whispered back.
“Why not?”
“Because,” Chris said, wrapping his arms around Zach’s neck, “I feel like you might try to seduce me, and then we’ll never leave.”
“Dammit,” Zach said, chuckling in his ear, “there goes my master plan.” He ran his hands up to cup Chris’s face. “Chris.” His tone was serious and Chris raised an eyebrow at him.
“What?”
“I want to kiss you all over your cute face.”
Chris laughed and blushed a little and said, “okay.” He lifted his eyes to meet Zach’s gaze and smiled as Zach kissed him tenderly on the lips. Chris could feel the energy humming between them, a desperate anticipation that had been building over the past two months, but they managed to keep their kisses sweet and shallow, tongues brushing just enough to remove any doubt that they were both waiting for more.
They pulled apart just seconds before Karl stepped into the hall to tell them he was ready to go. Chris made sure to leave the apartment first, subtly adjusting himself as they headed out the door and smiling as he noticed Zach doing the same.
**
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for Zach as they walked over to Pi Kappa and made their way inside. He did grab Zach’s wrist to pull him through the crowd toward the basement, as Karl was waylaid by a few of his crew buddies. Downstairs, his appearance was met with shouts of “Yo, Pine!” and he let go of Zach to greet what seemed like half of the entire basement. He shrugged apologetically, but Zach just smiled and looked impressed that he had other friends. Finally, they managed to make their way to the beer pong table.
“Do you want to be on my team?” Chris asked loudly enough to be heard over the pounding music.
Zach smirked at him. “Do you want to be on mine?”
Chris wouldn’t have guessed that they played a lot of beer pong at Sarah Lawrence, but Zach had obviously had practice, as he sunk the first two shots. Thank god, too, because Chris seemed to have lost all of the skill that he’d worked so hard to cultivate over three years of intense practice. Chris was acutely aware that his poor performance may have had something to do with the fact that Zach’s t-shirt stretched across his chest and clung to his biceps whenever he reached his long arm across the table to take a shot. Or that he ran a hand through his hair whenever he missed, a carefully calculated motion that resulted in every strand falling perfectly back into place. After his fifth atrocious turn, Chris set his focus, aimed, licked his lips, and took the shot. The ping pong ball circled the rim and dropped in, and when he turned to high five Zach he saw his eyes darken with lust, and he licked his lips again. Chris felt hot and dizzy and giddy with desire, but they were winning, and they managed to hold the table until Karl and Zoe found their way over and gave them a solid ass-kicking.
As the night progressed, Chris noticed that Zach stuck close to him, but didn’t touch, didn’t reach out and put an arm around him or anything else that might have made him uncomfortable in front of his friends. By the time they left the basement, Chris was going nearly crazy with it, and he reached over to slip his fingers through one of Zach’s belt loops as they headed up the stairs. Zach smiled shyly at the contact and let his fingers brush against Chris’s.
“You ready to get out of here?” Zach asked. “I don’t want to rush you, I mean…” He broke off into a smile as Chris tugged him all the way to the front door and pushed him out into the cool night.
**
They were barely inside the apartment before Zach grabbed Chris around the waist and pulled him in for a long kiss. And Chris might have stayed right there all night, but the sudden image of Zach sprawled on his bed and their clothes strewn across the bedroom floor had him breaking the kiss and tugging Zach insistently down the hall.
“I swear to god, Chris,” Zach said, letting Chris lead him, “if I have to wait one more second to get my hands on you, I’m going to explode.”
Chris yanked him into the bedroom, shut the door, and pressed Zach up against it. “Just your hands?” he breathed, sliding his up and under Zach’s t-shirt.
“Hands, lips,” Zach said, kissing and sucking at his neck, “everything.” He slid a hand down to Chris’s ass and pushed their hips together. “You were driving me crazy all night, you have no idea.”
“Shut up,” Chris groaned, “I swear half the fraternity was checking you out.” He licked into Zach’s mouth, tasting cheap beer and remembering the sweet anticipation that had been burning through him all night. “Want you so bad, Zach, fuck,” he said, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Zach sounded just as far gone, he could barely take his lips off of Chris to ask him “What, Chris, what do you want, god, fuckin’, anything,” and then their mouths met again like magnets and they had to stop talking again. Chris pulled Zach by the hips toward the bed, loathe to stop kissing long enough to make the suggestion, but Zach got the idea fast enough and they tumbled onto Chris’s twin bed.
Zach fumbled at the buttons of Chris’s shirt until it fell open, and he could run his hand over Chris’s chest, and down his sides, and slide a hand around to rub wantonly at the bulge in his jeans. Chris moaned into Zach’s mouth and pressed into his hand, and his skin felt like electricity. But Zach was pulling back from the kiss, breathless. “I’m sorry,” he panted, moving his hand away from Chris’s crotch, and Chris whimpered and clutched at him, trying to bring him back.
“What’s wrong?”
Zach propped himself on an elbow, still pressed along Chris’s side, and ran a hand through his hair. “I just…I have to ask you something.”
“Okay,” Chris said, breathing hard, his hand wrapped around Zach’s bicep to make sure he couldn’t get away. “Hurry up and ask, and then kiss me again.”
“Is this some kind of…experimentation thing for you?” Zach asked, his eyes focused on his fingers as he ran them idly across Chris’s chest, as if he didn’t want to see the answer on Chris’s face.
Chris gripped his chin and made him look, pulled him down to kiss him hard, plunging his tongue deep into Zach’s mouth, making him feel it. Then he let go, holding Zach’s gaze for a moment before softly saying, “No, Z. It’s not. I got that out of my system freshman year.” He tipped his forehead against Zach’s and took a deep breath. “I really like you.”
Zach closed his eyes, swallowed, and nodded against his forehead. “I’m glad,” he breathed.
“Can I experiment with kissing you again now?” Chris asked, and in answer Zach cut off his grin with a kiss. Chris slid his hand down Zach’s arm, taking hold of his hand and pressing it against his crotch again, and Zach chuckled against his jaw. But he pressed his palm over the line of Chris’s cock and Chris groaned and pushed Zach’s hand away to undo his own fly, and Zach’s fingers twitched as he waited to touch. And when he did, he breathed hot against Chris’s neck as he worked his hand into Chris’s boxers, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he wrapped his fist around Chris’s length, hot and hard and perfect in his hand.
“God, Chris, fuck, want you so bad, fuckin’…” He paused and leaned back a little. “How long have we known each other?”
Chris tilted his head up a little to catch Zach’s eye. “Um…like two months?”
Zach leaned back down to kiss and lick at Chris’s collarbone. “Mmm…I’ve been wanting to do this for two fucking months.”
Chris groaned and pushed his fingers into Zach’s hair as Zach moved down, licking over his nipples, running his hands over Chris’s ribs and finally pressing his jeans and boxers down over his hips. He pressed his nose and lips against Chris’s pelvis, letting Chris’s cock bump against his cheek as he took in his scent, feeling how Chris was responding to him, the play of muscles underneath his skin, the rapid sound of his breathing. Zach glanced up to see Chris watching him, his eyes hooded with desire, and Zach smiled and licked a sloppy trail up his dick. Chris stilled completely, breathed deeply, and let Zach take control. He let out an involuntarily moan when he felt the heat of Zach’s mouth over the tip, but that was nothing compared to the seal of Zach’s lips around his cock. Zach bobbed his head so Chris could watch his dick sliding in and out of Zach’s mouth, glistening wetly in the dim light, and he was already feeling close when Zach took his entire length in and sucked him hard. He was moaning incoherently, trying to give some sort of warning when Zach looked up at him and winked, and he was gone, his cock pulsing hard as Zach swallowed with ease.
Zach pulled off and smiled up at him, dropping kisses on his thighs and stomach as he moved back up the bed. Chris wanted to smile back but instead he just opened and closed his mouth a few times, and when he did manage to speak it was to groan and say “fuck.” Then they were kissing again and Chris only pulled away to gasp, “Where the fuck have you been all my life?”
Zach laughed and Chris reached for his fly, and Zach helped him and together they got his pants off and Chris wrapped a hand around him and stroked him and said, “Is this okay?”
Zach laughed and thrust his hips a little and said, “Fuck yes,” and Chris focused, pumping his fist harder, thinking of everything he liked and trying to make it even better for Zach. And it must have worked, but it wasn’t long before Zach’s kisses were getting sloppier and his breath was coming faster and he panted into Chris’s ear, “Oh god, Chris, I’m gonna come, shit-“
Chris managed two more swift strokes before Zach shuddered, and Chris felt a hot splash across his stomach. When he caught his breath, Zach looked up at Chris slyly, and he leaned down to run his tongue along Chris’s hipbone, licking a trail through the come decorating his skin.
“Holy fucking Christ,” Chris gasped weakly, staring down at Zach in disbelief.
Zach licked his lips and looked up at him. “What? Gross?”
“Fuck no. Just…nngh…so hot I think my brain might explode.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, just…fucking get up here and kiss the fuck out of me with your hot, filthy mouth.”
Zach scrambled up the bed and pressed his tongue into Chris’s mouth, their hands roaming over each others’ bodies as they kissed. When Zach pulled away, it was only to run his fingers along Chris’s cheek and look him in the eye to ask, “How the hell did I get so lucky?”
Chris’s eyes sparkled as he kissed Zach tenderly on the lips. “I was asking myself the same thing.”
“Hey Zach,” Chris began, when their mouths were tired from kissing and they lay tangled together under the sheet.
“Yeah?”
“Why did you ask me that before, about experimenting?”
“I…well, Cho said something…
“Really, Zach? You’re gonna bring up Cho while you’re in bed with me?”
“Hear me out, okay? Cho is the reason I ever even thought this –“ he gestured between them, “could be a possibility. So, actually, you kinda owe him. Since you sure as hell weren’t making the first move.”
Chris punched him gently in the shoulder. “Shut up,” he mumbled. “I might have made a move…eventually.”
“Yeah, eventually, like, in the spring you probably would have asked me to the prom or some shit.”
“Shut up!” Chris said, laughing now, hitting him a little harder.
“And what did you mean, anyway, when you said you got that out of your system freshman year, huh?” Zach asked playfully. “You gonna fill me in on the details, or what?”
“Ugh, please, don’t make me think about that…misguided period of my life.”
“It couldn’t have been that misguided. It certainly left an impression on you,” Zach said, propping himself up on an elbow.
“Yeah, well, believe me, if I’d been hooking up with guys like you, I’d have no problem remembering it.”
“Like me how?”
“Hot. Smart. Not a douchebag. Gorgeous. Intelligent. Shall I go on?”
Zach laughed. “So you spent your freshman year hooking up with ugly, dumb, douchebags?”
“No, I spent, like, one whole month trying to stick my tongue down the throat of every closeted senior frat boy that looked twice at me. Oh god, I feel ill just thinking about it. Please, make the memory go away,” he groaned, pulling Zach’s lips to his.
“Better?” Zach asked after a long moment.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why did you stop?”
“Stop what?”
“Experimenting.”
“Oh. Um. I kinda ended up getting with one of their girlfriends. We dated for like six months.”
“Really? You stud.”
“Yeah. She gave great head – well, actually, before tonight, I thought she gave great head. I’ve since been enlightened.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And in case you’re going to ask, since then it’s just been random hookups – with girls – and one stressful, dysfunctional fling with a chick getting her PhD in Women’s Studies.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. So, in conclusion, I’m finished experimenting.”
“And again, I ask – how the hell did I get so lucky?”
**
Chris was in the kitchen filling up a glass of water when Karl stepped into the apartment, shutting the door softly behind him. He jumped when he saw Chris standing by the sink, looking at him with a knowing grin.
“How’s Zoe?” Chris asked cheekily.
“Whatever,” grumbled Karl.
“So I guess you went to her place last night?”
It was Karl’s turn to fix him with a knowing look. “Yeah? Want to talk about who you took home last night?” he asked, gesturing toward the bedroom.
Chris blushed. “How did you-“
“Because I have eyes, Pine. Give me a little credit. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive last night. Plus, I know all about your experimental phase freshman year, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, wincing at the memory of how Karl had made that particular discovery.
“He still in there?” Karl asked, nodding toward the bedroom.
Chris nodded.
“I’m just stopping in to grab a couple things, then I’ll make myself scarce.”
“Thanks, man” Chris said, avoiding his eyes.
“Chris.” The low earnest tone of Karl’s voice made him look up to meet his friend’s eye. “Zach’s a cool guy.” He paused, flustered for a moment. “You, uh…you think you got a real thing going with him, or what?”
Chris glanced longingly down the hall to the closed door of his bedroom, then back to Karl as a small smile played about his lips. “I guess…I hope so.”
Yeah, he thought, as he snuck quietly back into his bedroom to find Zach still sleeping, sprawled across his bed, shirtless and tangled in his sheets. He could get used to that, so yeah, he fucking hoped so.
Continue to Chapter 3
