![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
therumjournalsTitle: Didn’t Love Me True
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count (total): 20,150
Warning: angst - highlight for details (SPOILERS) Mind control with resulting sexual relationship - referenced but not explicitly described
Summary: Chris wakes up one morning to learn that he has no recollection of the past two years of his life - and even more devastating, no memory of his relationship with Zach. What he finds out about Zach’s role in his apparent amnesia sends his world spinning out of control.
A/N1: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rpf_big_bang. Thoughtfully and thoroughly betaed by the lovely emmessann. I cannot thank you enough for your help in crafting this story!
A/N2: For the purposes of this fic, filming of the sequel got pushed back a year. While I usually wish that my fics could predict the future, in this case I hope it’s not a premonition…
Awesome fanmix and art bykimmay7: HERE
Chris woke up in an unfamiliar bed. He yawned, stretched, and was considering lifting his head to see where he was, when he heard a snuffle and felt something damp nuzzling into his palm. He smiled, opened his eyes all the way, and looked down over the side of the bed. “Hey, Noah,” he said sleepily. Of course. He was at Zach’s for the weekend, dog-sitting, cat-sitting, and going through Zach’s stuff while he was off at some kind of new age-y yoga retreat in Vancouver. Today was Sunday, and he was coming back tonight.
Chris felt his stomach do a little flip as he remembered the resolution that he’d made the night before. He felt his resolve fading fast in the light of day and under the intense scrutiny of Noah, who wore an expression that he seemed to reserve for Chris that said “Whatever you’re thinking of doing is a terrible idea. Now, put on my bandana and take me out to see my kingdom.” He needed back-up.
Luckily, he’d anticipated the need for moral support and asked Zoe to meet him for coffee at 10:00. Which was, shit, in fifteen minutes. He’d slept in a pair of track pants and a white t-shirt, so he slipped out of bed and washed his face, dumped a can of the good stuff into Noah’s bowl, pulled on a pair of sunglasses, and headed out the door.
He sat down across from Zoe, clutching his coffee as though his life depended on it. “Hey, Zoe!”
“Hey!” Zoe was smiling and looking gorgeous as usual. “Big day today!”
“Is it?” Chris furrowed his brow, trying to think what day it was.
“Isn’t Zach coming home today?”
“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Chris rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. He knew everyone liked to joke about how much time he and Zach spent together, but really, he’d only been gone three days. Did Zoe think he’d been crying into his beer that whole time? “Um, speaking of which, I need to ask you for some advice.”
“Okay. Hit me.”
Chris had been planning to build up his courage with some small talk, but the conversation had already led them here, so why the hell not.
“I think that…when Zach gets back… I think I’m going to tell him that… Ikindahaveathingforhim.” Chris said the last part in a rush of breath and braced for impact.
Zoe laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I feel like he might already be under that impression,” she said, winking.
“What, really?” Chris asked, taken off guard. He supposed it was possible…okay, probable…that Zach had picked up on his little crush – despite the fact that Chris had only come to the realization a few months ago himself. But that wasn’t really the reaction he’d been expecting from Zoe, of all people.
Zoe raised a shapely eyebrow. “Yeah, really,” she said seriously, then promptly ruined the effect by laughing again.
“Why…what? Has he, like, said something to you?”
“Chris, what are you talking about?” Her face had taken on a look of honest confusion. “Did you guys get in a fight or something?”
“A fight? No, I haven’t talked to him all weekend. Why are you acting like it’s so obvious that I like him?”
“Well, the fact that you guys have been married for almost a year is a pretty big clue.”
Oh, so that’s what this was about. “Oh, very funny, Zoe. Look, can’t two guys just hang out without people jumping all over them about it? Hell, you hang out with him just as much, and I don’t say you two are married!”
Zoe’s face had twisted into an expression of (still gorgeous) concern, as she reached across the table and took hold of his left hand. “I’m talking about this, Chris,” she said, in a tone reserved for particularly slow kindergartners. She held his hand up in front of his face, and he got his first glimpse at the silver ring shining on his fourth finger.
He yanked his hand away to peer at the ring. He could feel himself gaping in disbelief, and his confusion was only magnified by the sincerity of Zoe’s worried frown.
“Zoe. What. The Fuck. Is this?” He held up his hand.
“It’s your wedding ring? Chris, are you okay? You’re kind of scaring me.”
Chris’s head was spinning and he swallowed dryly as he tried to come up with some kind of explanation. He’d been positive that Zoe had been messing with him, but then what the fuck was up with this ring? This was some kind of prank, obviously, some kind of Zoe-and-Zach thing - maybe Zach was already home? Maybe he’d snuck in last night and slipped the ring on Chris’s finger? Jesus, that was a lot of trouble for one prank. But it had obviously worked, as Chris had legitimately wondered for about five seconds whether he’d gotten drunk and married Zach sometime in the past year. He took a deep breath, took a sip of his coffee, and pulled his sunglasses off so he could give Zoe his most serious “don’t fuck with me” glare.
“Where’s Zach?”
“What?”
“Well, obviously you two planned this thing -- very funny by the way -- so where is he if he’s back already?” Chris glanced around the coffee shop, fully expecting to see Zach hiding behind a plant or something.
“What prank, Chris? And you’re the one that told me that Zach’s not getting back from Prague until tonight.”
“PRAGUE? What the hell was Zach doing in Prague?!”
Zoe’s expression of concern had escalated to the kind of look that usually precedes having someone committed. She kept her voice level in the face of Chris’s increasing hysterics. “He was filming – well, at least he was when the producers weren’t throwing hissy fits and delaying production. Wait, where did you think he was?”
“What do you mean where did I think he was? He’s in Vancouver on a fucking yoga retreat! He told me about the…the fasting and the sweat! It sounded terrible!”
Zoe furrowed her brow again. “A yoga retreat? Wait a second. Chris, do you think you’re…dog-sitting Noah?”
“I am dog-sitting Noah.”
“Chris.” Zoe reached across the table and put a gentle hand on his arm. “Okay, look. This is going to sound really weird, but…what do you think today’s date is?”
Oh, that was good. She was really working the part here. Obviously he’d lost his memory and THAT was why he couldn’t remember getting married to Zachary motherfucking Quinto. He rolled his eyes. “It’s March 28, 2010. Wait, is this some kind of April Fool’s thing? Because you guys are a few days too early.” He laughed nervously.
Zoe looked like her eyes were about to pop out of her head. She pulled her phone out of her purse, typed in a website, and handed the phone to Chris. It was the front page of the New York Times and the date read March 25, 2012.
“Chris, please tell me you’re fucking with me,” Zoe said. Chris shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. “Chris?” He looked at her. “I think you need to go to the doctor.”
**
“Tell me.”
“I’m not sure I should.”
“Come on, Zoe, please. Just tell me.”
He’d pulled some strings to get a doctor’s appointment for 3 PM and now he and Zoe were sitting on Zach’s couch, waiting.
“I’ve heard that you’re not supposed to tell an amnesiac everything about his life. It can disrupt the reintegration of true memories by making you think that you remember what you’ve been told.”
Chris gave her a look. “Someone’s been watching too many soap operas. Or reading a psychology textbook or something. I do not have amnesia!”
“Chris, you don’t remember the last two years of your life! What else do you call that?”
“I call it…you fucking with me,” Chris said, flailing his arms around.
“Chris.” Zoe got off the couch and walked over to the bookshelf. She pulled out a photo album and sat down next to Chris, opening the book on her lap. “Look.”
She opened to the first page, a beautiful full page picture of Chris and Zach, wearing white suits and holding hands and looking blissfully happy. Chris stared at the picture in horrified disbelief. “We wore white suits?!”
Zoe rolled her eyes, and Chris flipped another few pages in the photo album.
“Jesus.” He shook his head, pausing on a picture of Zach. He looked absolutely stunning, there was no denying it, and Chris felt a strange surge of pride to be unknowingly married to such a fine specimen. He shook his head. He really couldn’t let himself start thinking things like that, or he might actually go insane. He had to take this one step at a time, and figure out what the hell was wrong first.
Suddenly struck by a thought, he jerked his head up to stare at Zoe. “Shit, Zoe. Are we…are we filming?!”
Zoe shook her head. “We start read-throughs next week.” She pointed to the calendar that hung outside the kitchen, where April 3 was circled in red and Zach had written kirk + spock forever!!
“Well, at least I didn’t miss the important stuff,” he said, laughing weakly. His mind was jumping all over the place, frantically touching on questions and hitting realizations that he couldn’t even bear to think about. “So…I don’t have my apartment anymore, do I?” Zoe shook her head. He looked around, noticing for the first time that his stuff was here, in Zach’s house. There were his books on the bookshelf, his robot action figures on the windowsill, looking for all the world like they belonged. He shook his head again, like he was trying to shake something into place. Something was bothering him – well, many things were bothering him, but…
“Zoe, if I woke up thinking it’s two years ago, how did I know we were supposed to meet for coffee today?”
“We’ve been meeting for coffee every Sunday for the past two years, whenever we’re both in town. It’s kind of our thing. Come to think of it, the first time we met for coffee was that weekend you were talking about. You were dog-sitting while Zach was in Vancouver. I remember because you left me this amazing drunken message saying you needed ‘mortal support’ because you’d made a ‘revolution’,” she laughed, making air quotes. “Man, I had that message on my phone for like a year.”
“Oh, great.” Chris rolled his eyes before he lapsed into thought again. “So, when we met for coffee that day, did I tell you that I wanted to tell Zach I liked him?”
Zoe shook her head. “Nope. You were…a little hung over.”
Chris bit his lip. He’d had approximately one and a half bottles of red wine the night before in the process of strengthening his resolve.
“Actually we only hung out for about an hour that time. Then Zach called you and told you he was getting back early and he had some kind of surprise for you, and you ran off and left me here like you were about to miss Christmas morning.”
Chris frowned. “Sorry.”
“No hard feelings.”
“Then what?”
“Then…I didn’t see either of you guys for like a week, and the next time we hung out, you two spent the entire night giggling like school girls and necking in the back booth at Luna Lounge.”
“Necking? Who says that?”
“Fine, groping. That better?”
“So I guess I did tell him.”
Zoe shrugged. “Guess so. Whatever you did, it worked.”
Chris ran a hand over his face, willing himself not to hyperventilate as he tried to process what Zoe was telling him. Assuming this was really happening – and it seemed more disturbingly every second that it actually was – Chris had literally forgotten the past two years of his life. He stood up, and Zoe watched him nervously from the couch as he paced. Two fucking years – years that were apparently full of some significant things, like telling Zach he liked him and marrying Zach and – oh god, kissing Zach and wait, fucking Zach? He stopped pacing as a wave of dizziness passed over him, and he put a hand out on the bookshelf to steady himself.
After a few deep breaths, his head began to clear, his eyes flitting across the shelf, and - “What the FUCK?!” Chris yanked a DVD case off the shelf, knocking off two identical copies of On the Road in the process. He scrunched his eyebrows as he stared at the DVD cover, confused and then angry. The anger took him by surprise, and he felt his face go hot as he turned and thrust the DVD toward Zoe.
“Zoe?” he said, his voice rising dangerously. “What the fuck is this?”
“Oh, yeah. I guess you wouldn’t remember that…”
“PRINCESS DIARIES 3?” He was yelling now. “I don’t remember fucking Princess Diaries 3?! Zoe, what the fuck is going on here?”
“Well, the whole Jack Ryan thing fell through, so I guess you were looking for something else…”
“Zoe, I swore, I SWORE, I would never, ever agree to fucking Princess Diaries 3. Did I go insane? Seriously, tell me. Did I have brain damage or something? That would explain a lot. Because I honestly cannot imagine a single other circumstance that would make me agree to be in fucking Princess Diaries 3.”
Zoe held her arms out, placating him. “Chris, calm down, okay?”
Chris felt like he was on the edge of tears, his face crumpling as he tried hard to hold it together in front of Zoe. “I have brain damage,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s the only explanation.” He took a deep breath. For a minute, he felt better, knowing what was wrong. Then it all came crashing back over him and he looked helplessly at Zoe.
“I’m not sure what to tell you, Chris. As far as I know, you really were okay with it at the time. I mean, the whole thing was filmed in SoCal so you never had to be far from Zach.” Chris noticed the subtitle then: Princess Diaries 3: Next Stop, Hollywood. He shuddered against his will as his smiling face stared back at him from what was supposed to be a red carpet, holding onto Anne Hathaway with one hand and a shiny gold Oscar with the other. How fucking ironic.
He sat down heavily on the couch and wondered if 12:30 wasn’t too early to go sit in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. Maybe he’d get seen early. He felt Zoe’s hands clasp one of his comfortingly and he looked at her, his face drained of emotion.
“What’s happening?” he croaked.
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know. I wish I knew how to help you, but Zach is probably on the plane already and he’ll be here soon, okay?”
“Oh god,” Chris said, as a new wave of fear washed over him. What was he going to tell Zach? “Hi honey, welcome home, I have no fucking memory of our life together.” Oh god.
“And you’re going to see the doctor, and everything is going to be fine,” Zoe said, patting his hand. Maybe it made her feel better to say it.
“Zoe…” Chris had his eyes closed as he tried to think through the swirling confusion in his mind.
“Did I ever…act weird? I mean, like, not myself? Maybe I was sick or something and I just got better? Maybe I have a brain tumor.”
“You were always yourself, Chris. You didn’t go insane or act crazy or anything like that. You’ve been…really happy these past two years. Hell, the paps have gotten pictures of you smiling and everything. And it’s not because of a brain tumor, Chris. We’ve all noticed, and it’s obvious – it’s because of Zach.”
Chris really did feel like crying then, and it was because he’d known, just 24 hours earlier, he’d known that what Zoe said was true – that if he told Zach how he felt, and if Zach felt the same way, that he would be happy. Just thinking about it had made him smile, and apparently he’d been right, but he’d missed it, all of it, and now he felt like he was drowning in the unknown, with nothing of his life to hold on to. He stood up abruptly and strode toward the door, grabbing his keys from the table.
“Where are you going?” Zoe called behind him.
“To the doctor!”
“It’s too early, Chris.”
“I don’t CARE!” he said, slamming the door shut behind him. He paused on the walkway, looked down at the keys in his hand, and turned to go back inside.
Zoe looked at him from the couch, her eyes wide and sad.
“Can you drive me?” His hands were shaking as he held out his keys.
Zoe stood, nodding. “Sure, honey. Sure, let’s go.”
**
“Well that was entirely unhelpful,” Chris said, staring out the windshield as Zoe drove out of the parking lot of the doctor’s office.
“Don’t say that, Chris”
“Why not? That doctor has no idea what’s wrong with me. ‘Did you hit your head?’,” he said, imitating the doctor’s bored monotone. “I don’t fucking REMEMBER if I hit my head, asshole, that’s the whole point! Fuck!” He smacked the dashboard in frustration.
“Chris, honey, calm down. You’ll have the CAT scan tomorrow, and you’ll see the specialist, and they’ll figure out what this is. You can’t be the first person that this has ever happened to.”
“Great,” Chris said, tipping his head back. “Maybe there’s a support group. Hi, my name is…I have no fucking clue.” He laughed humorlessly, and Zoe patted his knee.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” she asked. “Until Zach gets home?”
Zach. A mix of emotions played in Chris’s chest. “Maybe…” he said in whisper, “maybe when I see him, I’ll remember. Maybe it will all come back.”
“Maybe,” Zoe said, obviously trying to sound as hopeful as possible.
Or maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d be left there, standing nervously in front of Zach, exactly as he’d imagined last night – only with several key differences. And the speech he’d had prepared, the one where he told Zach that he’d realized something, that what he felt for Zach was more than just friendship, that he thought maybe Zach felt the same… All of that would be scrapped, thrown by the wayside, and Zach would be looking at him, the love that Chris had hoped to see already there in Zach’s eyes, only Chris would be telling him “I don’t remember”…. The thought made him sick to his stomach. But he had to tell Zach. He knew that.
Of course he had to tell Zach that he didn’t remember.
Or…did he?
**
Chris stood at the top of the darkened stairway as he listened to Zach’s key in the lock. He took a deep breath, and pushed down the sick sense of wrongness squirming in his stomach. He’d made his decision. Zach pushed opened the door, and Chris drew on his years of training, tried to imagine how he would act if he came home to Zach – with Zach – every night. If he was going to do this, he had to do it right.
“Chris?” Zach called, dropping his bags by the door. “Honey, I’m home!”
Chris ran down the stairs and threw himself into Zach’s arms. Zach laughed and wrapped his arms around Chris, pressing his face into Chris’s neck and breathing in his scent. It wasn’t like they had never hugged before. It wasn’t even like they had never hugged like this before, arms tight around each other, Zach’s hand moving against his back as they swayed a little in place. Chris squeezed his eyes shut and let himself enjoy it, let himself believe, just for a minute, that this was how things were.
“Missed you so much,” Zach said into his neck and it was easy to say it back, because it was true.
“I missed you, too.”
Then Zach pulled back and smiled at him and leaned in and then they were kissing, a soft peck on the lips and then Zach’s tongue in his mouth and…fuck. Chris couldn’t help it, the words first kiss floating through his mind, even though it wasn’t, apparently, it was their millionth, and Chris felt something break inside him when he thought about how much he’d missed.
But apparently this kiss was no different than the others, as far as Zach could tell, because when he pulled back he was smiling again and there was a gleam of lust in his eye. He slid his hands down to grip Chris’s ass, and Chris could feel Zach’s erection pressing into his thigh. He let Zach press against him as he felt his own cock respond.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower,” Zach said through another kiss. “Want to join me?”
“Hell, yeah,” Chris said, and he was pleased to hear himself take to the role so easily, playing himself without a script.
He felt Zach’s hands slide around to his waist and tug up on his t-shirt, so he lifted his arms, let Zach pull the shirt off over his head. Then Zach’s mouth was on his chest, tongue swirling wetly around his nipples, and he was nuzzling into Chris’s neck and mumbling “Fuck, fuck, Chris, need you, god.” Chris reached for Zach’s shirt, trying to keep up, but Zach shook his head and smiled as he reached for Chris’s fly. “You first,” Zach said, and there was a mischievous gleam in his eye as he unzipped Chris’s pants and slid his hands inside, gripping and squeezing at Chris’s ass. “Take these off,” he said, and Chris complied, too lust-dazed to even think anymore, to think of anything but how fucking hard he was and how much he couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. As he stepped out of his pants and boxers, Zach took a step back and looked him up and down, a ravenous look in his eyes as he rubbed his palm over the bulge in his jeans. He gestured with his chin toward the stairs. “Let’s go.”
Chris turned and ran naked up the stairs. He could feel Zach’s hot gaze behind him, could hear the soft sound of Zach’s shirt falling to the floor, his zipper sliding down, and then they were in the bathroom, and Zach was naked, too, their bodies pressed together. Zach’s mouth was hot on his skin, kissing and sucking at his neck, one hand clutching possessively at the back of his head while the other arm was wrapped firmly around his waist. “God,” Zach said, his voice breaking. He plunged his tongue into Chris’s mouth, hard and unyielding, and Chris could only hold on for the ride, every press of Zach’s fingers into his skin, every swipe of his tongue going straight to his cock. Then Zach was pressing his face into Chris’s shoulder, nipping lightly at his skin as he spoke. “Five weeks, Chris, fuck. Too fucking long. Never again, I promise, I won’t ever leave you for that long again.”
“No,” Chris said, tipping his head back, tangling a hand in Zach’s hair. His cock was hard and leaking against Zach’s belly and he was babbling, “Never again, Zach.” Five weeks, two days, two fucking years. Chris didn’t even know anymore, but it was too long, far too long, and he didn’t think he could ever go without this again.
Zach reached behind him to turn on the shower, and the blast of hot water made him gasp, his hands suddenly slick against Zach’s back as he clung to him instinctively. Zach’s tongue traced drops of water down his jaw and Chris felt him chuckle against his neck. “God, Chris, I don’t even know where to start.” He trailed his fingertips down Chris’s side and slid his hand between them to wrap a fist around Chris’s cock. “I want to do everything with you right now, I missed it all so much.”
Chris thrust his hips, pushing into Zach’s hand, and it felt so good, so fucking good, but Zach was making him realize that there was so much more to experience. He murmured a suggestion into Zach’s shoulder. “Do what I like best.”
Zach’s laugh was a low rumble in his ear, and Chris gasped at the loss of contact as Zach pulled his hand away and reached over to grab something from the soap dish. He indulged himself with a series of bites and kisses against Zach’s chest, and it was every fantasy he’d ever had and just as good as he’d imagined. Zach slid a finger down his ass crack and he pressed forward, his cock touching Zach’s, throbbing against it, he wanted to rut against him, and FUCK. He inhaled sharply as Zach slipped a slick finger into his entrance without prelude, without apology, sliding it out then in again as Chris swallowed dryly.
“I like this?” he whispered, unbelieving, into Zach’s ear. And thank god, Zach didn’t even realize it was a question, just smiled and said “I know you do, baby. Fuck, I know you do, I love it when you ask for it, when you fucking beg me for it.” And now Chris was clinging onto Zach’s shoulders for dear life as Zach fucked him on two fingers, and it was strange and different and he was pushing himself up on his tiptoes, urging Zach to go deeper and fuck that felt good.
“Remember last week, baby?” Zach breathed, never ceasing the slick press of his fingers, twisting them now, wiggling them inside of him. “When we were on the phone, remember? You were telling me how much you missed this, god, you were telling me how much you missed my big dick fucking into you, you told me you were imagining it and that you had three fingers inside of you.” Zach complemented the image by adding a third finger, and Chris squeezed his eyes shut as burst of pleasure and pain shot through him, and he could almost imagine what Zach was describing and oh, how he wished that he remembered. “Oh fuck, Chris, god, I love you so fucking much, only you, you have no idea, no idea how hard I came that night thinking about you, missing you, oh fuck.”
Chris felt Zach’s hand gripping his shoulder, fingers slipping out as Zach turned him around and pressed him against the cool wall of tile. He heard the slap of skin as Zach stroked himself, then something nudging against his entrance, and he moaned in anticipation, fear and desire in equal measure. “You ready?” Zach asked. No, no he wasn’t, but that didn’t stop him from gasping out “Yes,” as his fingers curled against the wall.
Zach slid into him in one smooth thrust, all the way in, and Chris could feel everything, every inch of Zach’s cock inside him, filling him, and Chris opened his mouth in a silent scream. But Zach’s arm was strong around his chest, and his words were a steady pulse in Chris’s ear, relaxing him, reminding him of things he’d never known, “you feel so good, Chris, you’re so beautiful, I love this, I love you, so fucking good.” Stars were bursting behind Chris’s eyes as Zach slammed into him, wrenching moans from Chris’s throat, a repetitive “oh, oh, oh” that echoed off the shower walls. He felt Zach’s hand skate down across his stomach, brushing lightly against his clenched abs, “yeah, that’s it, Chris, so fucking tight, so hot,” and down a little farther to tease at the head of his cock.
“Zach, fuck…please,” Chris said, wondering if he always pleaded like this, or if his desperation to know how it felt would give him away. But Zach didn’t seem to notice, squeezing around Chris’s shaft in response, stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts.
“Yeah, Chris…fuck, come for me, baby,” Zach panted, and Chris wanted to, and he was almost there, he barely even knew where it was coming from, this heat washing over him, building up behind his balls, but he wanted to, for Zach. “Show me how happy you are that I’m home,” and Chris lost it, coming so hard it hit his chest and the tile and Zach’s hand. Zach’s hand, which was curling around his shoulder now as Zach’s breath came hot against his neck, almost sobbing against his skin, never stilling as Chris felt the pulse of his cock as Zach came, pumping relentlessly until they were both shaking.
It was all they could do just to slide to the floor of the shower, and Zach tipped his head back against the wall and smiled up into the water before he opened his eyes and turned his grin on Chris.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “That was amazing.”
Chris nodded his agreement, but the world was spinning as reality crashed down on him once again. That. Fuck. That had been amazing, and when he thought about how many times they had done that, how many times he could have remembered, he almost wanted to do it again right away, just to make sure he wouldn’t forget.
**
Chris woke up in a panic, because someone was touching him, someone’s hands were moving on him, across his chest and someone’s lips- Chris’s eyes shot open and he gasped as it all came back to him, the amnesia and the ring and the shower and Zach. Zach. Zach, who was looking down at him, running a hand over his chest, a thumb brushing across his nipple, and that devastating smile, all for him. “Morning, sweetie,” Zach said, and he kissed Chris’s neck and slid his hand down to tug him closer, pressing his erection against Chris’s thigh.
“Morning,” Chris said, trying desperately to stay calm, torn between wanting to run away and wanting that mouth back on his, that tongue curling against his own, but that wouldn’t be right, would it, and fuck he had no idea what was right anymore. His fucking husband was looking down at him, kissing him, moving to straddle him and crawling up over him, whispering “Want your mouth so bad, Chris,” and Chris flinched back into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. Jesus Christ, he’d never sucked a dick before, shit, he’d never even seen a dick this close before, hard and huge and inches above his face. And yeah, objectively, he wanted it, he wanted Zach, wanted to make him feel good, which no doubt involved some mouth-on-cock action, but not like this, no warning, no practicing on a…a cucumber or something, and fuck, he couldn’t do this.
All of these thoughts rushed through Chris’s mind in a matter of seconds, and he turned his head away, saying “Zach, uh, can we, uh, not do this right now, I mean…” Zach paused above him and Chris cracked an eye open to see him looking down, confusion and concern written across his face. “I just, uh…I have a sore throat.”
A flash of disappointment crossed Zach’s face, but he moved off of Chris, flopped down beside him, saying “It’s okay, baby.” He gripped his cock loosely and stroked, giving Chris a lascivious look. “Wanna watch?”
And okay, yeah, that Chris could handle, but he didn’t answer, because he was busy staring and his mouth was hanging open a little as he watched Zach touch himself, slender fingers wrapping around that perfect cock. Zach tightened his grip and pumped a little faster, biting his lip, tossing his hair out of his eyes and he lay back against his pillow. He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward Chris’s crotch, and Chris reached down to press a palm against his own aching erection. “Come on, baby,” Zach encouraged him. “Let me see.” Chris slid his shorts down, feeling shy and warm and ridiculously turned on, and he wasted no time stroking himself, thrusting into his dry fist, his eyes flitting between Zach’s cock and his dark, approving gaze. Chris was moaning already, writhing on his back as he jerked himself hard and fast, and Zach’s breath was becoming more erratic as he asked “You gonna come, Chris? You ready?”
“Unhh, yeah,” Chris panted, arching his back, too close to wonder why Zach was turning toward him, pushing himself up on an elbow. Heat pooled in Chris’s groin and he gave a strangled yell as he felt his orgasm crash over him, just as Zach squeezed his eyes shut and unloaded across Chris’s chest.
“Fuck,” Chris said, looking down in disbelief at his chest, splattered white as Zach’s come mingled with his and slid wetly down his sides. “Fucking fuck.”
“I know, right,” Zach said with a wink. He ran a hand through his hair and sat up, offering Chris a hand. “You can get the first shower.”
**
Chris had meant to get dressed and out of the house to go to his appointment before Zach got out of the shower, but he had some trouble finding his own clothes (and where the hell had his brown shoes gone anyway? Surely he wouldn’t have gotten rid of those?) He settled on a t-shirt and jeans that he thought were his plus a pair of sneakers, and he was grabbing his keys and heading for the door when he heard Zach’s voice behind him.
“Hey, where are you sneaking off to?” Zach asked.
“Oh, um. I’m, um, having lunch. Er, brunch. With, uh, Patrick.” He crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping that he was still friends with Patrick, that Patrick even lived in LA still, his brain aching again from the absurdity of the situation.
“Oh,” Zach said, frowning a little as he toweled at his hair. “I’m not invited?”
“Oh, well, uh, I just wasn’t sure if…I mean, I didn’t think…”
“No, no, it’s cool. It’s fine. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Uh, okay. Yeah, okay. See you.”
“Have a good time!”
Chris nodded and stepped out the door, resisting the urge to break into a run.
**
The tests took forever and no one would answer his questions, which were all variations on the theme “what the fuck is wrong with my brain?” The doctors and techs counseled patience, told him to wait and see what the tests turned up, but Chris frowned and clutched at his hair while inside he was screaming, going crazy with not knowing, not only what was wrong but what came next.
He didn’t want to go…home? To Zach’s? He didn’t even know what to call it, so instead he went to a bookstore and let his eyes glaze over at neurology textbooks as he sipped decaf (the doctor had advised him to avoid caffeine, as if that’s what had caused the problem. Sorry, doc, but if caffeine was the problem, he was pretty sure his last memory would be somewhere around junior high.) Finally, he made himself stand, made himself get in the car and drive back, and he only waited ten minutes in the car before he got the courage to go back into the house.
Zach was waiting at the door when he stepped inside, and he looked furious. Chris felt something collapse inside him, because this was the last thing he needed; he was barely keeping it together as it was.
“What the fuck is going on, Chris?”
“What?”
“Where the hell were you? I called Patrick, he said you didn’t have any plans with him today.”
Chris felt himself prickle with anger. “So what, you check up on me now?”
Zach gave him a look like it was obvious. “I always do, Chris, we talk like fifteen times a day. Usually you would have texted me half a dozen times by now, you know how I worry about you! And why the hell isn’t your phone on?”
“Shit,” Chris said, reaching into his pocket. “I had to turn it off because of the machines,” he said distractedly, looking down at the phone. “I forgot to turn it back on.”
“The machines?”
Shit. “Um.”
“What’s going on, Chris? Why aren’t you telling me everything? Were you with someone?”
“No, I was…I was at the hospital.”
“Oh my god.” Zach reached for him, gripped him by the arm, his face distraught. “Are you sick? Chris, are you sick, please, tell me, god.” He had a hand over his mouth; the other was squeezing him, hard.
“Ow, Zach, you’re hurting me. Look, can we…I think we should maybe sit down for a minute.”
Zach pulled him into the living room and let him take a seat on the couch. He dropped to his knees in front of Chris, looking up at him, his eyes pleading, and his voice cracked as he asked, “What’s happening?”
Chris ran a hand over his face and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m not sick.” Zach’s shoulders sagged in relief and he rested his arms on the couch, his hands scratching lightly at Chris’s thighs.
Chris took a deep breath, but he couldn’t make himself look into Zach’s eyes as he told him, “Something’s wrong with…with my memory. I….don’t remember.” He looked at Zach then, and his voice broke as his eyes filled with tears. “I don’t remember anything, Zach.”
“What...” Zach started, but Chris shook his head, shaking the tears loose, and they flowed down his cheeks.
“The past two years. It’s like they never happened. I don’t remember…us.”
“No.” Zach’s voice was confused.
“Yes, Zach. I woke up and I thought it was two years ago and I…I….” Sobs overtook him and he pressed his hands to his face. He felt Zach move to sit beside him, to wrap his arms around Chris, and Chris was torn between slumping into them and pulling away. Instead he just sat stiffly and felt his shoulders shake with sobs. “I went to the doctor,” he choked out. “They don’t know what’s wrong, I…Zach, I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay. Listen to me, Chris, it’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t know,” Chris said, his voice raw. “I don’t know.”
“It is, Chris. I love you, I…” Zach stiffened, pulled back to look at him. “You don’t remember falling in love with me.”
Chris huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “I do remember,” he said. “It’s the last thing, I remember, actually. Realizing that I was in love with you.” He brought his eyes up to meet Zach’s. “I just…I don’t remember telling you.”
“Telling me?” Zach asked, and Chris saw him blinking back his own tears.
Chris nodded. “I was going to tell you. When you got home from Vancouver. I remember that. I remember wanting to tell you, and then…nothing.”
Zach was pulling away from Chris, wiping at his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to keep his voice clear despite the tears sliding freely down his cheeks. “You were going to tell me,” he said, and there was something in his voice that Chris couldn’t quite identify. He glanced at Zach.
“I told you, didn’t I? I must have. And then you must have told me that you felt the same. Zoe said we were so happy. Is that what happened?”
Zach looked at him, smiling through his tears. “Yeah, baby. That’s what happened.” He wrapped his arms around Chris again, pulled him close. “We were so happy. We still are, Chris. Everything is going to be okay, I promise.” He kissed Chris on the cheek, kissed him again and again, running his fingertips over Chris’s face.
Chris let Zach kiss him, and reached up to hold Zach’s palm against his cheek. He shook his head. “You know, this feels…so strange to me.” He brought his eyes up to meet Zach’s. “You don’t realize…it feels new, it feels like…the beginning.”
Zach nodded, clearly trying to understand. “So last night…”
Chris’s voice was a whisper. “It was like…the first time. I’m sorry, Zach, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you then, I just…I wanted to know what it was like.”
Zach closed his eyes and swallowed. “I understand.”
“Maybe I should go, Zach, maybe I should stay at Zoe’s tonight. I have another doctor’s appointment tomorrow…”
Fear shot through Zach’s eyes and he clutched at Chris’s hand. “No! Please, Chris, please stay with me, please. I need you, I … we don’t have to do anything, I just…I want you here with me, I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Okay,” Chris said, nodding. “Okay, I’ll stay.” Zach leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips and he whispered again, “I’ll stay.”
**
They moved cautiously around each other, like there was some spell that neither of them wanted to break. They sat beside each other on the couch without touching, and ate dinner sitting across the table from each other in silence. When they climbed into bed, Chris looked across the mattress at Zach and said “I’m sorry” before he turned away.
But when he awoke in the middle of the night to find Zach holding him, he turned around in his arms and pressed kisses to Zach’s lips. And he didn’t stop, not even when he knew Zach was awake, when he could feel him kissing back, and it just felt so good. What were two years, Chris thought, when there was this? Maybe he didn’t need to remember.
**
Chris pushed the chair back from the desk with a muttered curse, glaring at the screen where he’d just entered the search term “Why can’t I fucking remember anything?” Google had helpfully supplied a handful of websites detailing the dangers of LSD and a number of links to what looked like angsty teenage fanfiction. It was fair to say that he was getting a little frustrated.
Still, he had come across a few crackpot theories that he figured were worth at least looking into, like the one that attributed basically every unexplained medical phenomenon to the chicken pox vaccine. Chris glanced around the office and wondered where he might have kept his medical records. A file cabinet against the wall looked promising, and he walked over to it, rolling his eyes as iTunes shuffled from a depressing indie song that had suited his mood to something annoyingly upbeat and peppy. He yanked open a drawer to find a carefully organized filing system, the manila folders labeled neatly in Zach’s handwriting. Movies they’d been in, scripts they’d been offered – “Marmaduke 2, you’re fucking kidding me,” he mumbled to himself. Files for various places they’d traveled stuffed with brochures and hotel receipts. Appliance manuals, investments, bank statements, boring boring boring…. Chris grinned as he opened the next drawer and spotted a file labeled “Notable Fan Letters (Heroes)” – oh, this was going to be hilarious. He frowned as the music changed again, this time to something older, like it should be crackling from a dusty record player. A few bars in, he recognized the song – remembered singing along to the nonsense lyrics with his sister in the back of their parents’ car, “Ooh, ee, ooh ah ah, ting tang, walla walla bing bang,” he sang along by memory. He was pulling another file out (Fan Letters – Princess Diaries 3) when the lyrics to the rest of the song sunk in – I told the witch doctor I was in love with you…and then the witch doctor he told me what to do- Chris felt his heart stutter in his chest and he dropped the file, fan letters written on pink and purple stationery spilling across the floor. His hands shook as he slammed the drawer shut and opened the previous one, and he rifled through the files, not fully conscious of what he was looking for until he found the folder labeled Vancouver.
He felt lightheaded, his breathing coming in rapid pants, and he clutched the file tightly for a minute before he could bring himself to open it. This was crazy, he wouldn’t find anything, he was sure of it – he opened the file. Maps, flight confirmations, brochures for the Maritime Museum, art galleries, Harmony Spiritual Retreat-. Chris pulled that one out and set the rest of the file down absently. The inside of the brochure detailed the various workshops available, yoga, nature walks, that sort of thing. It wasn’t until he flipped to the back of the pamphlet that his breath caught in his throat, bright spots dancing before his eyes as he tried to process what he was seeing. There, circled and underlined and surrounded by Zach’s characteristic exclamation points, was a description for “a product designed to open the minds of others to your true spirit, freeing you to share the love that you desire without fear of rejection.”
“No,” Chris breathed. “No, no, no.” Not Zach. Not like this. He shook his head, wanting to be in denial, to say that Zach would never have actually… But he knew Zach – knew how ardently he pursued his goals, knew he could manipulate when he wanted to – wasn’t that how he’d gotten the role of Spock, after all, dropping hints in interviews before auditions were even announced. And whereas others might view such a product as some sort of con for the overly gullible, Zach would believe in it, just like he believed in feng shui and dog yoga and fucking Mercury in retrograde.
Chris dropped into the chair, his face in his hands, mind swimming. He wanted to forget he’d ever seen that brochure. He wanted to talk to Zach, to make him swear it wasn’t true. Or to make him admit that it was.
Through the dizzy haze of heartbreaking realization seeping through him, he heard the front door open, Zach’s voice calling “Chris! You home?” Chris’s head shot up at the sound, his heart pounding. He waited, holding his breath, hoping against hope that Zach wouldn’t think to come up here, that Zach wouldn’t expect him to still be in the house.
He heard a cabinet door open and close in the kitchen, the scrape of a chair. Okay. Chris slid silently from the chair, kneeling to pick up the papers strewn across the floor. He shoved them into their files, not even trying to keep them in order, and shut the drawer quietly, then he opened the office door and stepped into the hall. A low murmur traveled up from the kitchen, and Chris wondered for a minute if Zach had brought someone home with him before he realized that he must be on the phone. He descended a few steps, listening, curious. The scrape of the chair again…the sound of footsteps…and Chris backed into the shadows of the stairwell. But the footsteps got quieter and Zach’s voice got a little louder, and Chris eased his way to the bottom of the stairs. He caught a glimpse of Zach through the doorway of the kitchen – he was pacing, pressing the phone to his ear, alternating between running a hand through his hair and gesturing angrily. Chris ducked back out of sight and listened.
“It was only supposed to be a month, but it went over…five, almost six weeks, I guess….Yeah, I remember what you said, but I didn’t think… okay, I get it, I fucked up, but listen, I need you to fix this now. I don’t care what it takes, money, whatever you need.” Silence as Zach listened to someone on the other end of the line and then a burst of anger, and Chris felt the vibration through the floor as Zach actually stomped his foot. “Don’t – DON’T fucking tell me that! I NEED this, I need him, so don’t fucking TELL me that you have nothing!” Chris flinched with every word that Zach emphasized, and bile rose to the back of his throat as a sickening understanding came over him, which Zach confirmed as he hissed into the phone, “Don’t lie to me and tell me that you don’t have some fucking herbal hippie shit that will fix this, because I know you do!”
He heard Zach sucking in deep breaths, trying to compose himself, and when he spoke again his words were icy calm. “Listen to me, Wolf - this cannot be the end – there has be to something-“ he was losing it again, his voice cracking, “I can’t lose him, okay? He is my life and if he leaves me I will go crazy, I will go insane, do you hear me, I don’t know how to live without him, so fucking fix this.” The threat was drowned in a sob, then Zach slapped his hand against the wall at whatever was said. “No, you WON’T call me in a week, you’ll call me TOMORROW, do you hear me? Do you HEAR ME?” Whoever it was, Wolf, or whoever, must not have heard, because Zach looked at the phone in disgust and slammed it onto the table as Chris stepped into the room.
Zach looked up at him, his eyes wide and shiny and a little crazed, and Chris could see him fight to control his expression, could see every twitch of muscle like it was in slow motion. Zach gestured toward the phone and shook his head. “Fucking cable company,” he said, and the thing was, Chris would have believed him, because Zach was that good. Chris wondered if he was that good too, or if everything he was feeling was written across his face, fear and disgust and devastating anger crashing through him, tinged with the backbeat of a breaking heart. Zach watched him, and he didn’t know where to begin, with screaming or crying or a fist to Zach’s chest so he could feel it too, but instead he just swallowed and said, “I heard you on the phone.”
“What?”
“I heard what you said to…who the fuck is Wolf?”
“It’s not what you think,” Zach said quickly.
“I know what you did, Zach.”
“What, Chris, what did I do?” Anger bled into his voice.
“You…you fucking love potion number nine-d me, Zach!”
Chris caught a glimpse of fear before Zach steeled his expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Chris felt hope flare in his chest, like maybe he’d been wrong, but he pushed it down. “Oh really? Let me see if I can help – a trip to Vancouver, a spiritual retreat,” he sneered, making air quotes with his fingers. He was playing a lawyer now, rattling off the evidence of his case with a confidence he didn’t feel. “A little chat with your buddy Wolf – ‘hey man, don’t suppose you have anything that would ‘open the minds of others to my true spirit, freeing me to share the love that I desire without fear of rejection’?” Air quotes again, and he was surprising himself – apparently, he’d memorized his lines.
Zach’s jaw dropped and Chris felt his stomach plummeting along with it. “I…how did you…?”
Chris wanted to grab him, to shake him and scream at him and tell him to stop, tell him not to admit to it, not to let the confession cross his lips, but it was too late, the tears were already streaming down his cheeks and his voice broke as he said Zach’s name.
“Chris, I …I don’t know what to say, I am so sorry, I never…”
“Never what?” Chris said. “Never thought I would find out? Never meant for this to happen? What was it, Zach, something you slipped in my coffee? Some incantation that you murmured while waving incense over my sleeping form?”
Zach swallowed and whispered, “Coffee.”
Chris barked out a laugh. “Oh my god. This would be funny if it wasn’t so…so fucking sick, Zach.”
“Chris, listen to me,” Zach said, pleading, and Chris shook his head.
“What are you going to say to me, Zach?” His voice was low and serious. “What could you possibly ever say to me now that I know?”
Zach’s eyes were wild with fear. Chris could see that he was drowning in it, struggling, but no acting classes could help him now. “I…I just…” his voice was shaking as he fought for words. “I just want to make things right.”
“You want to make things right, Zach? Give me back the last two years of my life. Give me back…fuck, you’re an idiot. You’re so stupid, Zach,” Chris said, clenching his fists, seesawing manically between anger and tears. “You could have had those years, Zach. I could have had them.”
“Chris!” Zach said, desperate now, control slipping, everything slipping from his grasp. “God, you have to believe me, it was only because…” his voice faltered, “it was only because I loved you.”
“You took my LIFE from me, Zach! You took away my choices. And the sick thing is, I would have CHOSEN you!”
“I didn’t know…”
“So stupid, Zach,” Chris said, shaking his head, squinting at Zach. “Didn’t you see the way I looked at you? All you had to do was ask.”
“I was scared. I was a coward. I didn’t know what to do, I just wanted you to love me! And, fuck, shit, Chris, when you did…when you did love me, it was the most amazing thing I’d ever experienced, it was everything. You…”
Chris’s face was a mask of anger and he shook his head. “It was fake Zach, don’t you get it? I didn’t know what I felt! And now, I’ll never fucking know. I’ll never know what it was like…what it was like to love you. To…to have you love me back.”
“I do love you, Chris,” Zach said, stepping forward.
“Don’t touch me,” Chris hissed. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” He turned away from Zach and made it into the hallway before he collapsed. There was nothing left, nothing left to hold him up, and it was all he could do to make it to the bathroom before he lost it, his insides twisted and torn apart.
**
He wasn’t sure how long he lay on the floor of the bathroom, weak and shaking, damp with cold sweat and hot tears. He was dimly aware of a strong arm wrapping around him, pulling him up from the cold floor to wipe a damp cloth across his forehead. He struggled when Zach led him to the bed – he wanted to leave, he knew that much, objectively, but when Zach pulled the warm blanket over his shoulders and slid in beside him, he forgot why. The soft breath of apology in his ear was the last thing he remembered before he drifted off to sleep.
Chris awoke with a start in the middle of the night. Zach’s arm around his chest felt heavy and constraining, and when he remembered why it was all he could do not to throw himself out of the bed and run for his life. He took a deep breath, then another – and everything in him still screamed for him to run. But he didn’t want to wake Zach, and so he moved slowly, inched his way out from under Zach’s arm and slipped quietly from the bed. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, but it wasn’t where he remembered leaving it. Neither were his car keys or his wallet, but he didn’t even want to take the time to look, and he stumbled out into the cool night with nothing but the clothes on his back.
The cab dropped him off at Zoe’s, and she answered the door, groggy with sleep and confusion, but still beautiful as she paid the cabbie and ushered Chris inside. Chris cried in her embrace and told her everything, and he felt her arms tighten protectively around him as he talked, felt her shudder as she took in the implications of what Zach had done. She stroked his hair and murmured words of comfort in his ear, chief among them, “I believe you.”
**
When Chris woke up on her couch the next morning, Zoe handed him a fresh cup of coffee and the lease to a new apartment, and when she knew Zach was at yoga, she drove them back to the house to help him pack. Chris wasn’t sure the situation was quite that dire – it wasn’t like Zach was going to hurt him – but as he sipped his coffee, he knew that he sure as hell wasn’t ready to see him again.
And he would have gotten out of there in time, too, if he hadn’t spent so much time sorting out his clothes (Jesus, how much plaid could two people own? He assumed anything that didn’t cause immediate blindness was his and left the rest for Zach. And he never did find his brown shoes.) Then there was a mild destructive episode, during which the coffee pot ended up shattered on the kitchen floor, and Chris just barely managed to stop himself from going apeshit on the rest of the appliances.
Zoe had packed her car full and pulled away, and Chris was carrying one last box down the stairs when Zach came in the front door. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Chris...” Zach started, sounding broken.
Chris shook his head. “I have nothing to say to you, Zach.”
Zach looked away, blinking back tears, and crossed his arms tight against his chest. “I understand why you have to leave,” he started, his voice quiet.
“Oh yeah?” Chris responded, raising his eyebrows. “Did you figure it out for yourself, or did your spirit animal tell you in a dream?”
Zach winced a little at Chris’s tone. “Look, do you need anything? A place to stay, money…?”
“I need you to get out of my way,” Chris said, pushing past Zach to move toward the door.
“What are you going to do?” Zach asked, raising his voice a little.
Chris turned toward him with a look of disbelief. “I’m going to live my life. My life, Zach, not the life that you forced on me. Don’t be surprised if you don’t recognize it.”
“I just…I was wondering if you think, maybe, in a little while, we could, like…start over?”
Chris laughed, and it sounded harsh even to his ears. “How can we start over, Zach? You’ve already lived this, you already know how it goes! You know what I like in bed…Jesus, Zach, I don’t even know what I like in bed, not with guys, not with you.”
Zach looked stricken. “Maybe I can go back to Wolf – let me ask him if he has something …something to help you remember.”
Chris looked at him incredulously. “Are you insane? You really think I’d let you go BACK to that...that witch doctor? You think my mind hasn’t been fucked with enough yet? Jesus, Zach, I heard you on the phone yesterday, I know what you want from Wolf.”
“That’s not true!” Zach protested. “Chris, I swear, I wouldn’t…” His eyes flicked down toward the box Chris was holding, and a shadow crossed his face as he trailed off.
Chris followed his gaze to the Captain Kirk teddy bear resting on top of the pile. “What?”
Zach swallowed. “Just…you shouldn’t take that. I mean, it’s mine. You gave it to me.”
Chris’s eyes darkened. “Oh really? Are we going to talk about what’s yours and what’s mine now? Do you want to accuse me of taking something of yours, you hypocritical little bitch?” He felt a twisted satisfaction at the hurt in Zach’s eyes. “Take your fucking bear, Zach. That’s all you’ve got left. Something to remember me by,” he sneered, and turned away before looking at Zach’s face made him sick.
He set the box on top of the car and reached into his pocket for his keys when he remembered that he hadn’t left the house with them the night before. The last thing that he wanted was to have to ask Zach for something, and he smacked the car in frustration. He hadn’t realized Zach was moving toward him until he noticed a shadow falling across the ground at his feet.
“These are yours,” Zach muttered, squinting past him. “I’m sorry.” He handed Chris his keys, along with the wallet and phone that he hadn’t been able to find. A new surge of anger pulsed through him and he glared at Zach as he took them without a word. He unlocked the car, threw the box on the passenger seat, and climbed inside. Zach gripped the door, holding it open.
“Let go, Zach.”
“You said you fell in love with me,” Zach said, his eyes pleading. “You said it was the last thing you remembered.”
“Yeah, well.” Chris yanked the door from Zach’s grasp, and just before he slammed it shut he added, “I wish I could forget that, too.”
Continue to Part 2
Author:
therumjournalsFandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count (total): 20,150
Warning: angst - highlight for details (SPOILERS) Mind control with resulting sexual relationship - referenced but not explicitly described
Summary: Chris wakes up one morning to learn that he has no recollection of the past two years of his life - and even more devastating, no memory of his relationship with Zach. What he finds out about Zach’s role in his apparent amnesia sends his world spinning out of control.
A/N1: Written for
rpf_big_bang. Thoughtfully and thoroughly betaed by the lovely emmessann. I cannot thank you enough for your help in crafting this story!A/N2: For the purposes of this fic, filming of the sequel got pushed back a year. While I usually wish that my fics could predict the future, in this case I hope it’s not a premonition…
Awesome fanmix and art by
kimmay7: HEREChris woke up in an unfamiliar bed. He yawned, stretched, and was considering lifting his head to see where he was, when he heard a snuffle and felt something damp nuzzling into his palm. He smiled, opened his eyes all the way, and looked down over the side of the bed. “Hey, Noah,” he said sleepily. Of course. He was at Zach’s for the weekend, dog-sitting, cat-sitting, and going through Zach’s stuff while he was off at some kind of new age-y yoga retreat in Vancouver. Today was Sunday, and he was coming back tonight.
Chris felt his stomach do a little flip as he remembered the resolution that he’d made the night before. He felt his resolve fading fast in the light of day and under the intense scrutiny of Noah, who wore an expression that he seemed to reserve for Chris that said “Whatever you’re thinking of doing is a terrible idea. Now, put on my bandana and take me out to see my kingdom.” He needed back-up.
Luckily, he’d anticipated the need for moral support and asked Zoe to meet him for coffee at 10:00. Which was, shit, in fifteen minutes. He’d slept in a pair of track pants and a white t-shirt, so he slipped out of bed and washed his face, dumped a can of the good stuff into Noah’s bowl, pulled on a pair of sunglasses, and headed out the door.
He sat down across from Zoe, clutching his coffee as though his life depended on it. “Hey, Zoe!”
“Hey!” Zoe was smiling and looking gorgeous as usual. “Big day today!”
“Is it?” Chris furrowed his brow, trying to think what day it was.
“Isn’t Zach coming home today?”
“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Chris rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. He knew everyone liked to joke about how much time he and Zach spent together, but really, he’d only been gone three days. Did Zoe think he’d been crying into his beer that whole time? “Um, speaking of which, I need to ask you for some advice.”
“Okay. Hit me.”
Chris had been planning to build up his courage with some small talk, but the conversation had already led them here, so why the hell not.
“I think that…when Zach gets back… I think I’m going to tell him that… Ikindahaveathingforhim.” Chris said the last part in a rush of breath and braced for impact.
Zoe laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I feel like he might already be under that impression,” she said, winking.
“What, really?” Chris asked, taken off guard. He supposed it was possible…okay, probable…that Zach had picked up on his little crush – despite the fact that Chris had only come to the realization a few months ago himself. But that wasn’t really the reaction he’d been expecting from Zoe, of all people.
Zoe raised a shapely eyebrow. “Yeah, really,” she said seriously, then promptly ruined the effect by laughing again.
“Why…what? Has he, like, said something to you?”
“Chris, what are you talking about?” Her face had taken on a look of honest confusion. “Did you guys get in a fight or something?”
“A fight? No, I haven’t talked to him all weekend. Why are you acting like it’s so obvious that I like him?”
“Well, the fact that you guys have been married for almost a year is a pretty big clue.”
Oh, so that’s what this was about. “Oh, very funny, Zoe. Look, can’t two guys just hang out without people jumping all over them about it? Hell, you hang out with him just as much, and I don’t say you two are married!”
Zoe’s face had twisted into an expression of (still gorgeous) concern, as she reached across the table and took hold of his left hand. “I’m talking about this, Chris,” she said, in a tone reserved for particularly slow kindergartners. She held his hand up in front of his face, and he got his first glimpse at the silver ring shining on his fourth finger.
He yanked his hand away to peer at the ring. He could feel himself gaping in disbelief, and his confusion was only magnified by the sincerity of Zoe’s worried frown.
“Zoe. What. The Fuck. Is this?” He held up his hand.
“It’s your wedding ring? Chris, are you okay? You’re kind of scaring me.”
Chris’s head was spinning and he swallowed dryly as he tried to come up with some kind of explanation. He’d been positive that Zoe had been messing with him, but then what the fuck was up with this ring? This was some kind of prank, obviously, some kind of Zoe-and-Zach thing - maybe Zach was already home? Maybe he’d snuck in last night and slipped the ring on Chris’s finger? Jesus, that was a lot of trouble for one prank. But it had obviously worked, as Chris had legitimately wondered for about five seconds whether he’d gotten drunk and married Zach sometime in the past year. He took a deep breath, took a sip of his coffee, and pulled his sunglasses off so he could give Zoe his most serious “don’t fuck with me” glare.
“Where’s Zach?”
“What?”
“Well, obviously you two planned this thing -- very funny by the way -- so where is he if he’s back already?” Chris glanced around the coffee shop, fully expecting to see Zach hiding behind a plant or something.
“What prank, Chris? And you’re the one that told me that Zach’s not getting back from Prague until tonight.”
“PRAGUE? What the hell was Zach doing in Prague?!”
Zoe’s expression of concern had escalated to the kind of look that usually precedes having someone committed. She kept her voice level in the face of Chris’s increasing hysterics. “He was filming – well, at least he was when the producers weren’t throwing hissy fits and delaying production. Wait, where did you think he was?”
“What do you mean where did I think he was? He’s in Vancouver on a fucking yoga retreat! He told me about the…the fasting and the sweat! It sounded terrible!”
Zoe furrowed her brow again. “A yoga retreat? Wait a second. Chris, do you think you’re…dog-sitting Noah?”
“I am dog-sitting Noah.”
“Chris.” Zoe reached across the table and put a gentle hand on his arm. “Okay, look. This is going to sound really weird, but…what do you think today’s date is?”
Oh, that was good. She was really working the part here. Obviously he’d lost his memory and THAT was why he couldn’t remember getting married to Zachary motherfucking Quinto. He rolled his eyes. “It’s March 28, 2010. Wait, is this some kind of April Fool’s thing? Because you guys are a few days too early.” He laughed nervously.
Zoe looked like her eyes were about to pop out of her head. She pulled her phone out of her purse, typed in a website, and handed the phone to Chris. It was the front page of the New York Times and the date read March 25, 2012.
“Chris, please tell me you’re fucking with me,” Zoe said. Chris shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. “Chris?” He looked at her. “I think you need to go to the doctor.”
**
“Tell me.”
“I’m not sure I should.”
“Come on, Zoe, please. Just tell me.”
He’d pulled some strings to get a doctor’s appointment for 3 PM and now he and Zoe were sitting on Zach’s couch, waiting.
“I’ve heard that you’re not supposed to tell an amnesiac everything about his life. It can disrupt the reintegration of true memories by making you think that you remember what you’ve been told.”
Chris gave her a look. “Someone’s been watching too many soap operas. Or reading a psychology textbook or something. I do not have amnesia!”
“Chris, you don’t remember the last two years of your life! What else do you call that?”
“I call it…you fucking with me,” Chris said, flailing his arms around.
“Chris.” Zoe got off the couch and walked over to the bookshelf. She pulled out a photo album and sat down next to Chris, opening the book on her lap. “Look.”
She opened to the first page, a beautiful full page picture of Chris and Zach, wearing white suits and holding hands and looking blissfully happy. Chris stared at the picture in horrified disbelief. “We wore white suits?!”
Zoe rolled her eyes, and Chris flipped another few pages in the photo album.
“Jesus.” He shook his head, pausing on a picture of Zach. He looked absolutely stunning, there was no denying it, and Chris felt a strange surge of pride to be unknowingly married to such a fine specimen. He shook his head. He really couldn’t let himself start thinking things like that, or he might actually go insane. He had to take this one step at a time, and figure out what the hell was wrong first.
Suddenly struck by a thought, he jerked his head up to stare at Zoe. “Shit, Zoe. Are we…are we filming?!”
Zoe shook her head. “We start read-throughs next week.” She pointed to the calendar that hung outside the kitchen, where April 3 was circled in red and Zach had written kirk + spock forever!!
“Well, at least I didn’t miss the important stuff,” he said, laughing weakly. His mind was jumping all over the place, frantically touching on questions and hitting realizations that he couldn’t even bear to think about. “So…I don’t have my apartment anymore, do I?” Zoe shook her head. He looked around, noticing for the first time that his stuff was here, in Zach’s house. There were his books on the bookshelf, his robot action figures on the windowsill, looking for all the world like they belonged. He shook his head again, like he was trying to shake something into place. Something was bothering him – well, many things were bothering him, but…
“Zoe, if I woke up thinking it’s two years ago, how did I know we were supposed to meet for coffee today?”
“We’ve been meeting for coffee every Sunday for the past two years, whenever we’re both in town. It’s kind of our thing. Come to think of it, the first time we met for coffee was that weekend you were talking about. You were dog-sitting while Zach was in Vancouver. I remember because you left me this amazing drunken message saying you needed ‘mortal support’ because you’d made a ‘revolution’,” she laughed, making air quotes. “Man, I had that message on my phone for like a year.”
“Oh, great.” Chris rolled his eyes before he lapsed into thought again. “So, when we met for coffee that day, did I tell you that I wanted to tell Zach I liked him?”
Zoe shook her head. “Nope. You were…a little hung over.”
Chris bit his lip. He’d had approximately one and a half bottles of red wine the night before in the process of strengthening his resolve.
“Actually we only hung out for about an hour that time. Then Zach called you and told you he was getting back early and he had some kind of surprise for you, and you ran off and left me here like you were about to miss Christmas morning.”
Chris frowned. “Sorry.”
“No hard feelings.”
“Then what?”
“Then…I didn’t see either of you guys for like a week, and the next time we hung out, you two spent the entire night giggling like school girls and necking in the back booth at Luna Lounge.”
“Necking? Who says that?”
“Fine, groping. That better?”
“So I guess I did tell him.”
Zoe shrugged. “Guess so. Whatever you did, it worked.”
Chris ran a hand over his face, willing himself not to hyperventilate as he tried to process what Zoe was telling him. Assuming this was really happening – and it seemed more disturbingly every second that it actually was – Chris had literally forgotten the past two years of his life. He stood up, and Zoe watched him nervously from the couch as he paced. Two fucking years – years that were apparently full of some significant things, like telling Zach he liked him and marrying Zach and – oh god, kissing Zach and wait, fucking Zach? He stopped pacing as a wave of dizziness passed over him, and he put a hand out on the bookshelf to steady himself.
After a few deep breaths, his head began to clear, his eyes flitting across the shelf, and - “What the FUCK?!” Chris yanked a DVD case off the shelf, knocking off two identical copies of On the Road in the process. He scrunched his eyebrows as he stared at the DVD cover, confused and then angry. The anger took him by surprise, and he felt his face go hot as he turned and thrust the DVD toward Zoe.
“Zoe?” he said, his voice rising dangerously. “What the fuck is this?”
“Oh, yeah. I guess you wouldn’t remember that…”
“PRINCESS DIARIES 3?” He was yelling now. “I don’t remember fucking Princess Diaries 3?! Zoe, what the fuck is going on here?”
“Well, the whole Jack Ryan thing fell through, so I guess you were looking for something else…”
“Zoe, I swore, I SWORE, I would never, ever agree to fucking Princess Diaries 3. Did I go insane? Seriously, tell me. Did I have brain damage or something? That would explain a lot. Because I honestly cannot imagine a single other circumstance that would make me agree to be in fucking Princess Diaries 3.”
Zoe held her arms out, placating him. “Chris, calm down, okay?”
Chris felt like he was on the edge of tears, his face crumpling as he tried hard to hold it together in front of Zoe. “I have brain damage,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s the only explanation.” He took a deep breath. For a minute, he felt better, knowing what was wrong. Then it all came crashing back over him and he looked helplessly at Zoe.
“I’m not sure what to tell you, Chris. As far as I know, you really were okay with it at the time. I mean, the whole thing was filmed in SoCal so you never had to be far from Zach.” Chris noticed the subtitle then: Princess Diaries 3: Next Stop, Hollywood. He shuddered against his will as his smiling face stared back at him from what was supposed to be a red carpet, holding onto Anne Hathaway with one hand and a shiny gold Oscar with the other. How fucking ironic.
He sat down heavily on the couch and wondered if 12:30 wasn’t too early to go sit in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. Maybe he’d get seen early. He felt Zoe’s hands clasp one of his comfortingly and he looked at her, his face drained of emotion.
“What’s happening?” he croaked.
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know. I wish I knew how to help you, but Zach is probably on the plane already and he’ll be here soon, okay?”
“Oh god,” Chris said, as a new wave of fear washed over him. What was he going to tell Zach? “Hi honey, welcome home, I have no fucking memory of our life together.” Oh god.
“And you’re going to see the doctor, and everything is going to be fine,” Zoe said, patting his hand. Maybe it made her feel better to say it.
“Zoe…” Chris had his eyes closed as he tried to think through the swirling confusion in his mind.
“Did I ever…act weird? I mean, like, not myself? Maybe I was sick or something and I just got better? Maybe I have a brain tumor.”
“You were always yourself, Chris. You didn’t go insane or act crazy or anything like that. You’ve been…really happy these past two years. Hell, the paps have gotten pictures of you smiling and everything. And it’s not because of a brain tumor, Chris. We’ve all noticed, and it’s obvious – it’s because of Zach.”
Chris really did feel like crying then, and it was because he’d known, just 24 hours earlier, he’d known that what Zoe said was true – that if he told Zach how he felt, and if Zach felt the same way, that he would be happy. Just thinking about it had made him smile, and apparently he’d been right, but he’d missed it, all of it, and now he felt like he was drowning in the unknown, with nothing of his life to hold on to. He stood up abruptly and strode toward the door, grabbing his keys from the table.
“Where are you going?” Zoe called behind him.
“To the doctor!”
“It’s too early, Chris.”
“I don’t CARE!” he said, slamming the door shut behind him. He paused on the walkway, looked down at the keys in his hand, and turned to go back inside.
Zoe looked at him from the couch, her eyes wide and sad.
“Can you drive me?” His hands were shaking as he held out his keys.
Zoe stood, nodding. “Sure, honey. Sure, let’s go.”
**
“Well that was entirely unhelpful,” Chris said, staring out the windshield as Zoe drove out of the parking lot of the doctor’s office.
“Don’t say that, Chris”
“Why not? That doctor has no idea what’s wrong with me. ‘Did you hit your head?’,” he said, imitating the doctor’s bored monotone. “I don’t fucking REMEMBER if I hit my head, asshole, that’s the whole point! Fuck!” He smacked the dashboard in frustration.
“Chris, honey, calm down. You’ll have the CAT scan tomorrow, and you’ll see the specialist, and they’ll figure out what this is. You can’t be the first person that this has ever happened to.”
“Great,” Chris said, tipping his head back. “Maybe there’s a support group. Hi, my name is…I have no fucking clue.” He laughed humorlessly, and Zoe patted his knee.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” she asked. “Until Zach gets home?”
Zach. A mix of emotions played in Chris’s chest. “Maybe…” he said in whisper, “maybe when I see him, I’ll remember. Maybe it will all come back.”
“Maybe,” Zoe said, obviously trying to sound as hopeful as possible.
Or maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d be left there, standing nervously in front of Zach, exactly as he’d imagined last night – only with several key differences. And the speech he’d had prepared, the one where he told Zach that he’d realized something, that what he felt for Zach was more than just friendship, that he thought maybe Zach felt the same… All of that would be scrapped, thrown by the wayside, and Zach would be looking at him, the love that Chris had hoped to see already there in Zach’s eyes, only Chris would be telling him “I don’t remember”…. The thought made him sick to his stomach. But he had to tell Zach. He knew that.
Of course he had to tell Zach that he didn’t remember.
Or…did he?
**
Chris stood at the top of the darkened stairway as he listened to Zach’s key in the lock. He took a deep breath, and pushed down the sick sense of wrongness squirming in his stomach. He’d made his decision. Zach pushed opened the door, and Chris drew on his years of training, tried to imagine how he would act if he came home to Zach – with Zach – every night. If he was going to do this, he had to do it right.
“Chris?” Zach called, dropping his bags by the door. “Honey, I’m home!”
Chris ran down the stairs and threw himself into Zach’s arms. Zach laughed and wrapped his arms around Chris, pressing his face into Chris’s neck and breathing in his scent. It wasn’t like they had never hugged before. It wasn’t even like they had never hugged like this before, arms tight around each other, Zach’s hand moving against his back as they swayed a little in place. Chris squeezed his eyes shut and let himself enjoy it, let himself believe, just for a minute, that this was how things were.
“Missed you so much,” Zach said into his neck and it was easy to say it back, because it was true.
“I missed you, too.”
Then Zach pulled back and smiled at him and leaned in and then they were kissing, a soft peck on the lips and then Zach’s tongue in his mouth and…fuck. Chris couldn’t help it, the words first kiss floating through his mind, even though it wasn’t, apparently, it was their millionth, and Chris felt something break inside him when he thought about how much he’d missed.
But apparently this kiss was no different than the others, as far as Zach could tell, because when he pulled back he was smiling again and there was a gleam of lust in his eye. He slid his hands down to grip Chris’s ass, and Chris could feel Zach’s erection pressing into his thigh. He let Zach press against him as he felt his own cock respond.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower,” Zach said through another kiss. “Want to join me?”
“Hell, yeah,” Chris said, and he was pleased to hear himself take to the role so easily, playing himself without a script.
He felt Zach’s hands slide around to his waist and tug up on his t-shirt, so he lifted his arms, let Zach pull the shirt off over his head. Then Zach’s mouth was on his chest, tongue swirling wetly around his nipples, and he was nuzzling into Chris’s neck and mumbling “Fuck, fuck, Chris, need you, god.” Chris reached for Zach’s shirt, trying to keep up, but Zach shook his head and smiled as he reached for Chris’s fly. “You first,” Zach said, and there was a mischievous gleam in his eye as he unzipped Chris’s pants and slid his hands inside, gripping and squeezing at Chris’s ass. “Take these off,” he said, and Chris complied, too lust-dazed to even think anymore, to think of anything but how fucking hard he was and how much he couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. As he stepped out of his pants and boxers, Zach took a step back and looked him up and down, a ravenous look in his eyes as he rubbed his palm over the bulge in his jeans. He gestured with his chin toward the stairs. “Let’s go.”
Chris turned and ran naked up the stairs. He could feel Zach’s hot gaze behind him, could hear the soft sound of Zach’s shirt falling to the floor, his zipper sliding down, and then they were in the bathroom, and Zach was naked, too, their bodies pressed together. Zach’s mouth was hot on his skin, kissing and sucking at his neck, one hand clutching possessively at the back of his head while the other arm was wrapped firmly around his waist. “God,” Zach said, his voice breaking. He plunged his tongue into Chris’s mouth, hard and unyielding, and Chris could only hold on for the ride, every press of Zach’s fingers into his skin, every swipe of his tongue going straight to his cock. Then Zach was pressing his face into Chris’s shoulder, nipping lightly at his skin as he spoke. “Five weeks, Chris, fuck. Too fucking long. Never again, I promise, I won’t ever leave you for that long again.”
“No,” Chris said, tipping his head back, tangling a hand in Zach’s hair. His cock was hard and leaking against Zach’s belly and he was babbling, “Never again, Zach.” Five weeks, two days, two fucking years. Chris didn’t even know anymore, but it was too long, far too long, and he didn’t think he could ever go without this again.
Zach reached behind him to turn on the shower, and the blast of hot water made him gasp, his hands suddenly slick against Zach’s back as he clung to him instinctively. Zach’s tongue traced drops of water down his jaw and Chris felt him chuckle against his neck. “God, Chris, I don’t even know where to start.” He trailed his fingertips down Chris’s side and slid his hand between them to wrap a fist around Chris’s cock. “I want to do everything with you right now, I missed it all so much.”
Chris thrust his hips, pushing into Zach’s hand, and it felt so good, so fucking good, but Zach was making him realize that there was so much more to experience. He murmured a suggestion into Zach’s shoulder. “Do what I like best.”
Zach’s laugh was a low rumble in his ear, and Chris gasped at the loss of contact as Zach pulled his hand away and reached over to grab something from the soap dish. He indulged himself with a series of bites and kisses against Zach’s chest, and it was every fantasy he’d ever had and just as good as he’d imagined. Zach slid a finger down his ass crack and he pressed forward, his cock touching Zach’s, throbbing against it, he wanted to rut against him, and FUCK. He inhaled sharply as Zach slipped a slick finger into his entrance without prelude, without apology, sliding it out then in again as Chris swallowed dryly.
“I like this?” he whispered, unbelieving, into Zach’s ear. And thank god, Zach didn’t even realize it was a question, just smiled and said “I know you do, baby. Fuck, I know you do, I love it when you ask for it, when you fucking beg me for it.” And now Chris was clinging onto Zach’s shoulders for dear life as Zach fucked him on two fingers, and it was strange and different and he was pushing himself up on his tiptoes, urging Zach to go deeper and fuck that felt good.
“Remember last week, baby?” Zach breathed, never ceasing the slick press of his fingers, twisting them now, wiggling them inside of him. “When we were on the phone, remember? You were telling me how much you missed this, god, you were telling me how much you missed my big dick fucking into you, you told me you were imagining it and that you had three fingers inside of you.” Zach complemented the image by adding a third finger, and Chris squeezed his eyes shut as burst of pleasure and pain shot through him, and he could almost imagine what Zach was describing and oh, how he wished that he remembered. “Oh fuck, Chris, god, I love you so fucking much, only you, you have no idea, no idea how hard I came that night thinking about you, missing you, oh fuck.”
Chris felt Zach’s hand gripping his shoulder, fingers slipping out as Zach turned him around and pressed him against the cool wall of tile. He heard the slap of skin as Zach stroked himself, then something nudging against his entrance, and he moaned in anticipation, fear and desire in equal measure. “You ready?” Zach asked. No, no he wasn’t, but that didn’t stop him from gasping out “Yes,” as his fingers curled against the wall.
Zach slid into him in one smooth thrust, all the way in, and Chris could feel everything, every inch of Zach’s cock inside him, filling him, and Chris opened his mouth in a silent scream. But Zach’s arm was strong around his chest, and his words were a steady pulse in Chris’s ear, relaxing him, reminding him of things he’d never known, “you feel so good, Chris, you’re so beautiful, I love this, I love you, so fucking good.” Stars were bursting behind Chris’s eyes as Zach slammed into him, wrenching moans from Chris’s throat, a repetitive “oh, oh, oh” that echoed off the shower walls. He felt Zach’s hand skate down across his stomach, brushing lightly against his clenched abs, “yeah, that’s it, Chris, so fucking tight, so hot,” and down a little farther to tease at the head of his cock.
“Zach, fuck…please,” Chris said, wondering if he always pleaded like this, or if his desperation to know how it felt would give him away. But Zach didn’t seem to notice, squeezing around Chris’s shaft in response, stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts.
“Yeah, Chris…fuck, come for me, baby,” Zach panted, and Chris wanted to, and he was almost there, he barely even knew where it was coming from, this heat washing over him, building up behind his balls, but he wanted to, for Zach. “Show me how happy you are that I’m home,” and Chris lost it, coming so hard it hit his chest and the tile and Zach’s hand. Zach’s hand, which was curling around his shoulder now as Zach’s breath came hot against his neck, almost sobbing against his skin, never stilling as Chris felt the pulse of his cock as Zach came, pumping relentlessly until they were both shaking.
It was all they could do just to slide to the floor of the shower, and Zach tipped his head back against the wall and smiled up into the water before he opened his eyes and turned his grin on Chris.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “That was amazing.”
Chris nodded his agreement, but the world was spinning as reality crashed down on him once again. That. Fuck. That had been amazing, and when he thought about how many times they had done that, how many times he could have remembered, he almost wanted to do it again right away, just to make sure he wouldn’t forget.
**
Chris woke up in a panic, because someone was touching him, someone’s hands were moving on him, across his chest and someone’s lips- Chris’s eyes shot open and he gasped as it all came back to him, the amnesia and the ring and the shower and Zach. Zach. Zach, who was looking down at him, running a hand over his chest, a thumb brushing across his nipple, and that devastating smile, all for him. “Morning, sweetie,” Zach said, and he kissed Chris’s neck and slid his hand down to tug him closer, pressing his erection against Chris’s thigh.
“Morning,” Chris said, trying desperately to stay calm, torn between wanting to run away and wanting that mouth back on his, that tongue curling against his own, but that wouldn’t be right, would it, and fuck he had no idea what was right anymore. His fucking husband was looking down at him, kissing him, moving to straddle him and crawling up over him, whispering “Want your mouth so bad, Chris,” and Chris flinched back into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. Jesus Christ, he’d never sucked a dick before, shit, he’d never even seen a dick this close before, hard and huge and inches above his face. And yeah, objectively, he wanted it, he wanted Zach, wanted to make him feel good, which no doubt involved some mouth-on-cock action, but not like this, no warning, no practicing on a…a cucumber or something, and fuck, he couldn’t do this.
All of these thoughts rushed through Chris’s mind in a matter of seconds, and he turned his head away, saying “Zach, uh, can we, uh, not do this right now, I mean…” Zach paused above him and Chris cracked an eye open to see him looking down, confusion and concern written across his face. “I just, uh…I have a sore throat.”
A flash of disappointment crossed Zach’s face, but he moved off of Chris, flopped down beside him, saying “It’s okay, baby.” He gripped his cock loosely and stroked, giving Chris a lascivious look. “Wanna watch?”
And okay, yeah, that Chris could handle, but he didn’t answer, because he was busy staring and his mouth was hanging open a little as he watched Zach touch himself, slender fingers wrapping around that perfect cock. Zach tightened his grip and pumped a little faster, biting his lip, tossing his hair out of his eyes and he lay back against his pillow. He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward Chris’s crotch, and Chris reached down to press a palm against his own aching erection. “Come on, baby,” Zach encouraged him. “Let me see.” Chris slid his shorts down, feeling shy and warm and ridiculously turned on, and he wasted no time stroking himself, thrusting into his dry fist, his eyes flitting between Zach’s cock and his dark, approving gaze. Chris was moaning already, writhing on his back as he jerked himself hard and fast, and Zach’s breath was becoming more erratic as he asked “You gonna come, Chris? You ready?”
“Unhh, yeah,” Chris panted, arching his back, too close to wonder why Zach was turning toward him, pushing himself up on an elbow. Heat pooled in Chris’s groin and he gave a strangled yell as he felt his orgasm crash over him, just as Zach squeezed his eyes shut and unloaded across Chris’s chest.
“Fuck,” Chris said, looking down in disbelief at his chest, splattered white as Zach’s come mingled with his and slid wetly down his sides. “Fucking fuck.”
“I know, right,” Zach said with a wink. He ran a hand through his hair and sat up, offering Chris a hand. “You can get the first shower.”
**
Chris had meant to get dressed and out of the house to go to his appointment before Zach got out of the shower, but he had some trouble finding his own clothes (and where the hell had his brown shoes gone anyway? Surely he wouldn’t have gotten rid of those?) He settled on a t-shirt and jeans that he thought were his plus a pair of sneakers, and he was grabbing his keys and heading for the door when he heard Zach’s voice behind him.
“Hey, where are you sneaking off to?” Zach asked.
“Oh, um. I’m, um, having lunch. Er, brunch. With, uh, Patrick.” He crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping that he was still friends with Patrick, that Patrick even lived in LA still, his brain aching again from the absurdity of the situation.
“Oh,” Zach said, frowning a little as he toweled at his hair. “I’m not invited?”
“Oh, well, uh, I just wasn’t sure if…I mean, I didn’t think…”
“No, no, it’s cool. It’s fine. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Uh, okay. Yeah, okay. See you.”
“Have a good time!”
Chris nodded and stepped out the door, resisting the urge to break into a run.
**
The tests took forever and no one would answer his questions, which were all variations on the theme “what the fuck is wrong with my brain?” The doctors and techs counseled patience, told him to wait and see what the tests turned up, but Chris frowned and clutched at his hair while inside he was screaming, going crazy with not knowing, not only what was wrong but what came next.
He didn’t want to go…home? To Zach’s? He didn’t even know what to call it, so instead he went to a bookstore and let his eyes glaze over at neurology textbooks as he sipped decaf (the doctor had advised him to avoid caffeine, as if that’s what had caused the problem. Sorry, doc, but if caffeine was the problem, he was pretty sure his last memory would be somewhere around junior high.) Finally, he made himself stand, made himself get in the car and drive back, and he only waited ten minutes in the car before he got the courage to go back into the house.
Zach was waiting at the door when he stepped inside, and he looked furious. Chris felt something collapse inside him, because this was the last thing he needed; he was barely keeping it together as it was.
“What the fuck is going on, Chris?”
“What?”
“Where the hell were you? I called Patrick, he said you didn’t have any plans with him today.”
Chris felt himself prickle with anger. “So what, you check up on me now?”
Zach gave him a look like it was obvious. “I always do, Chris, we talk like fifteen times a day. Usually you would have texted me half a dozen times by now, you know how I worry about you! And why the hell isn’t your phone on?”
“Shit,” Chris said, reaching into his pocket. “I had to turn it off because of the machines,” he said distractedly, looking down at the phone. “I forgot to turn it back on.”
“The machines?”
Shit. “Um.”
“What’s going on, Chris? Why aren’t you telling me everything? Were you with someone?”
“No, I was…I was at the hospital.”
“Oh my god.” Zach reached for him, gripped him by the arm, his face distraught. “Are you sick? Chris, are you sick, please, tell me, god.” He had a hand over his mouth; the other was squeezing him, hard.
“Ow, Zach, you’re hurting me. Look, can we…I think we should maybe sit down for a minute.”
Zach pulled him into the living room and let him take a seat on the couch. He dropped to his knees in front of Chris, looking up at him, his eyes pleading, and his voice cracked as he asked, “What’s happening?”
Chris ran a hand over his face and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m not sick.” Zach’s shoulders sagged in relief and he rested his arms on the couch, his hands scratching lightly at Chris’s thighs.
Chris took a deep breath, but he couldn’t make himself look into Zach’s eyes as he told him, “Something’s wrong with…with my memory. I….don’t remember.” He looked at Zach then, and his voice broke as his eyes filled with tears. “I don’t remember anything, Zach.”
“What...” Zach started, but Chris shook his head, shaking the tears loose, and they flowed down his cheeks.
“The past two years. It’s like they never happened. I don’t remember…us.”
“No.” Zach’s voice was confused.
“Yes, Zach. I woke up and I thought it was two years ago and I…I….” Sobs overtook him and he pressed his hands to his face. He felt Zach move to sit beside him, to wrap his arms around Chris, and Chris was torn between slumping into them and pulling away. Instead he just sat stiffly and felt his shoulders shake with sobs. “I went to the doctor,” he choked out. “They don’t know what’s wrong, I…Zach, I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay. Listen to me, Chris, it’s going to be okay.”
“I don’t know,” Chris said, his voice raw. “I don’t know.”
“It is, Chris. I love you, I…” Zach stiffened, pulled back to look at him. “You don’t remember falling in love with me.”
Chris huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “I do remember,” he said. “It’s the last thing, I remember, actually. Realizing that I was in love with you.” He brought his eyes up to meet Zach’s. “I just…I don’t remember telling you.”
“Telling me?” Zach asked, and Chris saw him blinking back his own tears.
Chris nodded. “I was going to tell you. When you got home from Vancouver. I remember that. I remember wanting to tell you, and then…nothing.”
Zach was pulling away from Chris, wiping at his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to keep his voice clear despite the tears sliding freely down his cheeks. “You were going to tell me,” he said, and there was something in his voice that Chris couldn’t quite identify. He glanced at Zach.
“I told you, didn’t I? I must have. And then you must have told me that you felt the same. Zoe said we were so happy. Is that what happened?”
Zach looked at him, smiling through his tears. “Yeah, baby. That’s what happened.” He wrapped his arms around Chris again, pulled him close. “We were so happy. We still are, Chris. Everything is going to be okay, I promise.” He kissed Chris on the cheek, kissed him again and again, running his fingertips over Chris’s face.
Chris let Zach kiss him, and reached up to hold Zach’s palm against his cheek. He shook his head. “You know, this feels…so strange to me.” He brought his eyes up to meet Zach’s. “You don’t realize…it feels new, it feels like…the beginning.”
Zach nodded, clearly trying to understand. “So last night…”
Chris’s voice was a whisper. “It was like…the first time. I’m sorry, Zach, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you then, I just…I wanted to know what it was like.”
Zach closed his eyes and swallowed. “I understand.”
“Maybe I should go, Zach, maybe I should stay at Zoe’s tonight. I have another doctor’s appointment tomorrow…”
Fear shot through Zach’s eyes and he clutched at Chris’s hand. “No! Please, Chris, please stay with me, please. I need you, I … we don’t have to do anything, I just…I want you here with me, I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Okay,” Chris said, nodding. “Okay, I’ll stay.” Zach leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips and he whispered again, “I’ll stay.”
**
They moved cautiously around each other, like there was some spell that neither of them wanted to break. They sat beside each other on the couch without touching, and ate dinner sitting across the table from each other in silence. When they climbed into bed, Chris looked across the mattress at Zach and said “I’m sorry” before he turned away.
But when he awoke in the middle of the night to find Zach holding him, he turned around in his arms and pressed kisses to Zach’s lips. And he didn’t stop, not even when he knew Zach was awake, when he could feel him kissing back, and it just felt so good. What were two years, Chris thought, when there was this? Maybe he didn’t need to remember.
**
Chris pushed the chair back from the desk with a muttered curse, glaring at the screen where he’d just entered the search term “Why can’t I fucking remember anything?” Google had helpfully supplied a handful of websites detailing the dangers of LSD and a number of links to what looked like angsty teenage fanfiction. It was fair to say that he was getting a little frustrated.
Still, he had come across a few crackpot theories that he figured were worth at least looking into, like the one that attributed basically every unexplained medical phenomenon to the chicken pox vaccine. Chris glanced around the office and wondered where he might have kept his medical records. A file cabinet against the wall looked promising, and he walked over to it, rolling his eyes as iTunes shuffled from a depressing indie song that had suited his mood to something annoyingly upbeat and peppy. He yanked open a drawer to find a carefully organized filing system, the manila folders labeled neatly in Zach’s handwriting. Movies they’d been in, scripts they’d been offered – “Marmaduke 2, you’re fucking kidding me,” he mumbled to himself. Files for various places they’d traveled stuffed with brochures and hotel receipts. Appliance manuals, investments, bank statements, boring boring boring…. Chris grinned as he opened the next drawer and spotted a file labeled “Notable Fan Letters (Heroes)” – oh, this was going to be hilarious. He frowned as the music changed again, this time to something older, like it should be crackling from a dusty record player. A few bars in, he recognized the song – remembered singing along to the nonsense lyrics with his sister in the back of their parents’ car, “Ooh, ee, ooh ah ah, ting tang, walla walla bing bang,” he sang along by memory. He was pulling another file out (Fan Letters – Princess Diaries 3) when the lyrics to the rest of the song sunk in – I told the witch doctor I was in love with you…and then the witch doctor he told me what to do- Chris felt his heart stutter in his chest and he dropped the file, fan letters written on pink and purple stationery spilling across the floor. His hands shook as he slammed the drawer shut and opened the previous one, and he rifled through the files, not fully conscious of what he was looking for until he found the folder labeled Vancouver.
He felt lightheaded, his breathing coming in rapid pants, and he clutched the file tightly for a minute before he could bring himself to open it. This was crazy, he wouldn’t find anything, he was sure of it – he opened the file. Maps, flight confirmations, brochures for the Maritime Museum, art galleries, Harmony Spiritual Retreat-. Chris pulled that one out and set the rest of the file down absently. The inside of the brochure detailed the various workshops available, yoga, nature walks, that sort of thing. It wasn’t until he flipped to the back of the pamphlet that his breath caught in his throat, bright spots dancing before his eyes as he tried to process what he was seeing. There, circled and underlined and surrounded by Zach’s characteristic exclamation points, was a description for “a product designed to open the minds of others to your true spirit, freeing you to share the love that you desire without fear of rejection.”
“No,” Chris breathed. “No, no, no.” Not Zach. Not like this. He shook his head, wanting to be in denial, to say that Zach would never have actually… But he knew Zach – knew how ardently he pursued his goals, knew he could manipulate when he wanted to – wasn’t that how he’d gotten the role of Spock, after all, dropping hints in interviews before auditions were even announced. And whereas others might view such a product as some sort of con for the overly gullible, Zach would believe in it, just like he believed in feng shui and dog yoga and fucking Mercury in retrograde.
Chris dropped into the chair, his face in his hands, mind swimming. He wanted to forget he’d ever seen that brochure. He wanted to talk to Zach, to make him swear it wasn’t true. Or to make him admit that it was.
Through the dizzy haze of heartbreaking realization seeping through him, he heard the front door open, Zach’s voice calling “Chris! You home?” Chris’s head shot up at the sound, his heart pounding. He waited, holding his breath, hoping against hope that Zach wouldn’t think to come up here, that Zach wouldn’t expect him to still be in the house.
He heard a cabinet door open and close in the kitchen, the scrape of a chair. Okay. Chris slid silently from the chair, kneeling to pick up the papers strewn across the floor. He shoved them into their files, not even trying to keep them in order, and shut the drawer quietly, then he opened the office door and stepped into the hall. A low murmur traveled up from the kitchen, and Chris wondered for a minute if Zach had brought someone home with him before he realized that he must be on the phone. He descended a few steps, listening, curious. The scrape of the chair again…the sound of footsteps…and Chris backed into the shadows of the stairwell. But the footsteps got quieter and Zach’s voice got a little louder, and Chris eased his way to the bottom of the stairs. He caught a glimpse of Zach through the doorway of the kitchen – he was pacing, pressing the phone to his ear, alternating between running a hand through his hair and gesturing angrily. Chris ducked back out of sight and listened.
“It was only supposed to be a month, but it went over…five, almost six weeks, I guess….Yeah, I remember what you said, but I didn’t think… okay, I get it, I fucked up, but listen, I need you to fix this now. I don’t care what it takes, money, whatever you need.” Silence as Zach listened to someone on the other end of the line and then a burst of anger, and Chris felt the vibration through the floor as Zach actually stomped his foot. “Don’t – DON’T fucking tell me that! I NEED this, I need him, so don’t fucking TELL me that you have nothing!” Chris flinched with every word that Zach emphasized, and bile rose to the back of his throat as a sickening understanding came over him, which Zach confirmed as he hissed into the phone, “Don’t lie to me and tell me that you don’t have some fucking herbal hippie shit that will fix this, because I know you do!”
He heard Zach sucking in deep breaths, trying to compose himself, and when he spoke again his words were icy calm. “Listen to me, Wolf - this cannot be the end – there has be to something-“ he was losing it again, his voice cracking, “I can’t lose him, okay? He is my life and if he leaves me I will go crazy, I will go insane, do you hear me, I don’t know how to live without him, so fucking fix this.” The threat was drowned in a sob, then Zach slapped his hand against the wall at whatever was said. “No, you WON’T call me in a week, you’ll call me TOMORROW, do you hear me? Do you HEAR ME?” Whoever it was, Wolf, or whoever, must not have heard, because Zach looked at the phone in disgust and slammed it onto the table as Chris stepped into the room.
Zach looked up at him, his eyes wide and shiny and a little crazed, and Chris could see him fight to control his expression, could see every twitch of muscle like it was in slow motion. Zach gestured toward the phone and shook his head. “Fucking cable company,” he said, and the thing was, Chris would have believed him, because Zach was that good. Chris wondered if he was that good too, or if everything he was feeling was written across his face, fear and disgust and devastating anger crashing through him, tinged with the backbeat of a breaking heart. Zach watched him, and he didn’t know where to begin, with screaming or crying or a fist to Zach’s chest so he could feel it too, but instead he just swallowed and said, “I heard you on the phone.”
“What?”
“I heard what you said to…who the fuck is Wolf?”
“It’s not what you think,” Zach said quickly.
“I know what you did, Zach.”
“What, Chris, what did I do?” Anger bled into his voice.
“You…you fucking love potion number nine-d me, Zach!”
Chris caught a glimpse of fear before Zach steeled his expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Chris felt hope flare in his chest, like maybe he’d been wrong, but he pushed it down. “Oh really? Let me see if I can help – a trip to Vancouver, a spiritual retreat,” he sneered, making air quotes with his fingers. He was playing a lawyer now, rattling off the evidence of his case with a confidence he didn’t feel. “A little chat with your buddy Wolf – ‘hey man, don’t suppose you have anything that would ‘open the minds of others to my true spirit, freeing me to share the love that I desire without fear of rejection’?” Air quotes again, and he was surprising himself – apparently, he’d memorized his lines.
Zach’s jaw dropped and Chris felt his stomach plummeting along with it. “I…how did you…?”
Chris wanted to grab him, to shake him and scream at him and tell him to stop, tell him not to admit to it, not to let the confession cross his lips, but it was too late, the tears were already streaming down his cheeks and his voice broke as he said Zach’s name.
“Chris, I …I don’t know what to say, I am so sorry, I never…”
“Never what?” Chris said. “Never thought I would find out? Never meant for this to happen? What was it, Zach, something you slipped in my coffee? Some incantation that you murmured while waving incense over my sleeping form?”
Zach swallowed and whispered, “Coffee.”
Chris barked out a laugh. “Oh my god. This would be funny if it wasn’t so…so fucking sick, Zach.”
“Chris, listen to me,” Zach said, pleading, and Chris shook his head.
“What are you going to say to me, Zach?” His voice was low and serious. “What could you possibly ever say to me now that I know?”
Zach’s eyes were wild with fear. Chris could see that he was drowning in it, struggling, but no acting classes could help him now. “I…I just…” his voice was shaking as he fought for words. “I just want to make things right.”
“You want to make things right, Zach? Give me back the last two years of my life. Give me back…fuck, you’re an idiot. You’re so stupid, Zach,” Chris said, clenching his fists, seesawing manically between anger and tears. “You could have had those years, Zach. I could have had them.”
“Chris!” Zach said, desperate now, control slipping, everything slipping from his grasp. “God, you have to believe me, it was only because…” his voice faltered, “it was only because I loved you.”
“You took my LIFE from me, Zach! You took away my choices. And the sick thing is, I would have CHOSEN you!”
“I didn’t know…”
“So stupid, Zach,” Chris said, shaking his head, squinting at Zach. “Didn’t you see the way I looked at you? All you had to do was ask.”
“I was scared. I was a coward. I didn’t know what to do, I just wanted you to love me! And, fuck, shit, Chris, when you did…when you did love me, it was the most amazing thing I’d ever experienced, it was everything. You…”
Chris’s face was a mask of anger and he shook his head. “It was fake Zach, don’t you get it? I didn’t know what I felt! And now, I’ll never fucking know. I’ll never know what it was like…what it was like to love you. To…to have you love me back.”
“I do love you, Chris,” Zach said, stepping forward.
“Don’t touch me,” Chris hissed. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” He turned away from Zach and made it into the hallway before he collapsed. There was nothing left, nothing left to hold him up, and it was all he could do to make it to the bathroom before he lost it, his insides twisted and torn apart.
**
He wasn’t sure how long he lay on the floor of the bathroom, weak and shaking, damp with cold sweat and hot tears. He was dimly aware of a strong arm wrapping around him, pulling him up from the cold floor to wipe a damp cloth across his forehead. He struggled when Zach led him to the bed – he wanted to leave, he knew that much, objectively, but when Zach pulled the warm blanket over his shoulders and slid in beside him, he forgot why. The soft breath of apology in his ear was the last thing he remembered before he drifted off to sleep.
Chris awoke with a start in the middle of the night. Zach’s arm around his chest felt heavy and constraining, and when he remembered why it was all he could do not to throw himself out of the bed and run for his life. He took a deep breath, then another – and everything in him still screamed for him to run. But he didn’t want to wake Zach, and so he moved slowly, inched his way out from under Zach’s arm and slipped quietly from the bed. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, but it wasn’t where he remembered leaving it. Neither were his car keys or his wallet, but he didn’t even want to take the time to look, and he stumbled out into the cool night with nothing but the clothes on his back.
The cab dropped him off at Zoe’s, and she answered the door, groggy with sleep and confusion, but still beautiful as she paid the cabbie and ushered Chris inside. Chris cried in her embrace and told her everything, and he felt her arms tighten protectively around him as he talked, felt her shudder as she took in the implications of what Zach had done. She stroked his hair and murmured words of comfort in his ear, chief among them, “I believe you.”
**
When Chris woke up on her couch the next morning, Zoe handed him a fresh cup of coffee and the lease to a new apartment, and when she knew Zach was at yoga, she drove them back to the house to help him pack. Chris wasn’t sure the situation was quite that dire – it wasn’t like Zach was going to hurt him – but as he sipped his coffee, he knew that he sure as hell wasn’t ready to see him again.
And he would have gotten out of there in time, too, if he hadn’t spent so much time sorting out his clothes (Jesus, how much plaid could two people own? He assumed anything that didn’t cause immediate blindness was his and left the rest for Zach. And he never did find his brown shoes.) Then there was a mild destructive episode, during which the coffee pot ended up shattered on the kitchen floor, and Chris just barely managed to stop himself from going apeshit on the rest of the appliances.
Zoe had packed her car full and pulled away, and Chris was carrying one last box down the stairs when Zach came in the front door. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Chris...” Zach started, sounding broken.
Chris shook his head. “I have nothing to say to you, Zach.”
Zach looked away, blinking back tears, and crossed his arms tight against his chest. “I understand why you have to leave,” he started, his voice quiet.
“Oh yeah?” Chris responded, raising his eyebrows. “Did you figure it out for yourself, or did your spirit animal tell you in a dream?”
Zach winced a little at Chris’s tone. “Look, do you need anything? A place to stay, money…?”
“I need you to get out of my way,” Chris said, pushing past Zach to move toward the door.
“What are you going to do?” Zach asked, raising his voice a little.
Chris turned toward him with a look of disbelief. “I’m going to live my life. My life, Zach, not the life that you forced on me. Don’t be surprised if you don’t recognize it.”
“I just…I was wondering if you think, maybe, in a little while, we could, like…start over?”
Chris laughed, and it sounded harsh even to his ears. “How can we start over, Zach? You’ve already lived this, you already know how it goes! You know what I like in bed…Jesus, Zach, I don’t even know what I like in bed, not with guys, not with you.”
Zach looked stricken. “Maybe I can go back to Wolf – let me ask him if he has something …something to help you remember.”
Chris looked at him incredulously. “Are you insane? You really think I’d let you go BACK to that...that witch doctor? You think my mind hasn’t been fucked with enough yet? Jesus, Zach, I heard you on the phone yesterday, I know what you want from Wolf.”
“That’s not true!” Zach protested. “Chris, I swear, I wouldn’t…” His eyes flicked down toward the box Chris was holding, and a shadow crossed his face as he trailed off.
Chris followed his gaze to the Captain Kirk teddy bear resting on top of the pile. “What?”
Zach swallowed. “Just…you shouldn’t take that. I mean, it’s mine. You gave it to me.”
Chris’s eyes darkened. “Oh really? Are we going to talk about what’s yours and what’s mine now? Do you want to accuse me of taking something of yours, you hypocritical little bitch?” He felt a twisted satisfaction at the hurt in Zach’s eyes. “Take your fucking bear, Zach. That’s all you’ve got left. Something to remember me by,” he sneered, and turned away before looking at Zach’s face made him sick.
He set the box on top of the car and reached into his pocket for his keys when he remembered that he hadn’t left the house with them the night before. The last thing that he wanted was to have to ask Zach for something, and he smacked the car in frustration. He hadn’t realized Zach was moving toward him until he noticed a shadow falling across the ground at his feet.
“These are yours,” Zach muttered, squinting past him. “I’m sorry.” He handed Chris his keys, along with the wallet and phone that he hadn’t been able to find. A new surge of anger pulsed through him and he glared at Zach as he took them without a word. He unlocked the car, threw the box on the passenger seat, and climbed inside. Zach gripped the door, holding it open.
“Let go, Zach.”
“You said you fell in love with me,” Zach said, his eyes pleading. “You said it was the last thing you remembered.”
“Yeah, well.” Chris yanked the door from Zach’s grasp, and just before he slammed it shut he added, “I wish I could forget that, too.”
Continue to Part 2
