Fic: Squeaky Clean
Feb. 17th, 2011 08:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
therumjournalsTitle: Squeaky Clean
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
therumjournals
Fandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1750
Summary: Chris was doing something at 3:00 AM that involved clattering. This couldn’t be a good sign. (Part of Zach's Rules.)
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAYlittleboycalico!!! I WROTE SOME PINTO POOOOOORN JUST FOR YOU! I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AWESOME DAY! PINTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
“Chris?” Zach mumbled, squinting and flopping an arm across the rumpled bedcovers where Chris was supposed to be. He lifted his head groggily from the pillow and peered at the empty bed, then at the clock – 3:00 AM – then at the strip of light that shone in under the closed bedroom door. “Chris?” he said, a little louder. The only response was a rather worrying clatter from somewhere down the hall. Chris was doing something at 3:00 AM that involved clattering. This couldn’t be a good sign.
Zach sat up and rubbed his eyes, exhaustion tempting him to curl up under the covers and wait until the morning to figure out what Chris was up to. Then he heard a loud thump from down the hall, followed by a distinct “Whoops,” and he was up and out of bed, padding quickly across the hardwood floor of the bedroom. He yanked open the door, stepped out into the hallway, and fell flat on his back as his feet slid out from under him.
The fall knocked the wind out of him, and his vision went blurry as his head smacked the uncarpeted floor. He sucked in a painful breath and blinked a few times as Chris’s face appeared above him, looking appropriately distressed. “Are you okay?”
“Ow,” Zach grunted in response. He watched as Chris braced his feet carefully against either side of the hallway before he extended a hand. Zach took it tentatively and let Chris heave him up into standing position – which lasted approximately half a second before he crashed forward onto his hands and knees.
“Chris,” he wheezed, as pain shot through his limbs. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Um. I oiled the floor?”
Of course he did. “Fucking hell, you’re supposed to dilute that shit,” Zach groaned. He heaved a long-suffering sigh and started crawling slowly down the hallway.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to check on my kitchen.”
“Uh, you don’t need to do that. Come on, let’s go back to bed!”
Zach paused mid-crawl to glare at Chris, who was giving him a nervous, pleading smile that sent a spike of apprehension straight down Zach’s spine. Zach made it about three more feet before Chris’s expression morphed into something akin to terror, and Zach looked down to find his hands in a puddle of water that was slowly making its way out of the kitchen.
“Okay, look, I can explain,” Chris said, just as Zach peered around the corner to see the bucket of soapy water that Chris had dropped on its side in the middle of the kitchen. Chris moved past him, saying something about a mop as he stepped onto the soapy tile and went sprawling across the kitchen floor.
“Ow.”
Zach stayed on his hands and knees, slopping through an inch of water as he made his way over to Chris’s prone form. “Chris?”
Chris groaned and rolled onto his back, and Zach had to suppress a smile at the froth of soap bubbles that covered his bare chest and the front of his mesh shorts. Chris’s eyes were squeezed shut and his voice was an agonized whisper. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I'm surprised alright.”
Chris shook his head and turned to look at him through squinty eyes. “I wanted to clean for you. Because, you know, you love it when stuff is clean, and I usually just make messes, and I wanted to do something nice for you-“ He sounded so pathetic that Zach couldn’t help but move closer, stretching out along his side and pressing a kiss to his temple.
“Chris. Baby,” he whispered, nuzzling against his cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Chris sniffed and nodded, and Zach let his lips brush against Chris’s ear. “So please don’t be offended when I say that you are a walking disaster.”
Chris made a sound that Zach thought was a laugh, judging by the hint of a smile on his face as he turned to press their mouths together. Zach swept his tongue along Chris’s lips, deepening the kiss as he slid a hand down Chris’s chest and stomach to palm his stiffening cock. He kissed his way down Chris’s neck, following the trail his fingertips had left across damp skin. He flicked his tongue against a nipple – and pulled away as the bitter flavor of soap coated his tastebuds. “Augh, pthhhh, blech.” He curled his lip, spitting and wiping his t-shirt over his tongue to try to get rid of the taste.
Chris propped himself up on his elbows to watch, not even trying to hide his laughter. “That’s sexy. Wow. I wish the world could see you right now, I really do.”
Zach glared at him. “Yeah, well. You’re the one missing out on a blowjob right now because you’re lying in a puddle of dirty mop water.” He reached up to grab the edge of the counter and pull himself carefully into standing position.
“Hey, where are you going?” Chris asked, pouting up at him as dirty mop water dripped from his hair.
Zach put a hand on the wall and took a cautious step into the hallway. “To the bathroom.”
“Um. You might not want to do that.”
Zach took another step down the hall, braced himself against the wall, and moved his other foot forward. Two more steps and he was at the bathroom. He pushed open the door and was immediately hit by a burning, stinging sensation in his eyes and nostrils. He took a step back into the hall, slammed the door shut, and promptly fell on his ass.
“CHRIS!” he bellowed, not even bothering to get up this time. He lifted his head to see Chris crawling toward him warily.
“I may have used a little too much bleach,” Chris confessed.
Zach chuckled helplessly at the mournful expression on his face and scrambled into sitting position against the wall. He held his arms out and Chris crawled into them, pressing his face into Zach’s t-shirt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“S’okay,” Zach said, running a hand through Chris’s hair. “I know this was all just a ploy to get me to forbid you from ever touching cleaning products again.”
Chris was quiet for a moment, then – “Did it work?” His voice was muffled against Zach’s chest.
“Absolutely.” Zach pulled Chris up for a kiss. “Although,” he murmured against Chris’s lips, “if you’re not going to clean, you’ll have to find other ways to earn your keep.”
Chris hummed in agreement and shifted in Zach’s lap, brushing up against the erection straining his pajama pants. “At least you find my incompetence arousing.”
Zach ran his hands over Chris’s shoulders. “I do. I can't help it. It’s 3:30 in the morning, most of my body is in severe pain, and yet I am so fucking turned on by how pathetic you look right now.” Chris pouted at him, and he leaned forward to suck on that gorgeous bottom lip. His hands crept up to cup Chris’s face, holding him close and licking deep into his mouth.
“You taste like soap,” Chris mumbled. Their noses bumped as Zach brushed soft kisses against his lips.
“Well, you’ve got a dirty mouth,” Zach whispered back, and this time it was Chris who surged into the kiss, sucking Zach’s tongue into his mouth and moaning pornographically as he tried to maneuver closer. He pushed Zach’s knee down and swung a leg over to straddle his lap, and Zach hissed.
“Ow, Chris, fuck. Did I not mention the severe pain?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Chris settled himself gently across Zach’s thighs and leaned down to press their lips together. Zach closed his eyes, drifting into the kiss, so he didn’t notice right away that Chris was stretching an arm out, reaching for something against the wall. Until the kiss stopped, and he opened his eyes to find Chris smirking and unscrewing the cap on the bottle of Murphy’s Oil Soap.
“Chriiis…”
“Shhh.” Chris poured a splash of oil into his palm and set the bottle down, not taking his eyes off Zach’s face.
“Chris, no, no, no way, no--”
Then Chris’s hand was down his pants, tight and slick around his shaft, and the first stroke had him arching up off the floor against his will, gasping at the unexpected sensation. “Fuck, oh god, fuck,” he breathed, as Chris’s fingers twisted around the head of his cock and pressed back down, slow and smooth, and Zach could feel his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Still want me to keep my hands off the cleaning products?” Chris whispered, tightening his grip. Zach keened, writhing under Chris’s touch. The back of his skull smacked against the wall, but he barely even felt it, all of his senses focused on the motion of Chris’s hand, wringing pleasure from him with every slippery tug.
“I swear to god, Chris,” he managed, panting, “if you say anything about polishing my wood, this is over.”
“Why do you hate fun?”
Zach slid his hands around to squeeze Chris’s ass, pulling him closer. He slipped his fingers under Chris’s waistband, pushing it down around his substantial cock and wresting a moan from Chris as he cupped his balls. Chris pushed Zach’s hand away to fist himself with oily fingers, and Zach bucked his hips helplessly at the loss of contact.
Chris closed the last remaining distance between them, mashing their mouths together as he wrapped his fingers around both of them, and they shuddered simultaneously at the sensation. Zach could feel Chris’s dick sliding against his, hot and achingly hard, and he fucked eagerly into Chris’s tight grip. He came with a guttural cry, his body going still, just managing to look down as he spurted against Chris’s abs and over their cocks. Chris bit down on Zach’s lip as he followed quickly, pushing Zach’s t-shirt up just in time to coat his stomach in a wash of liquid heat.
Chris didn’t let go right away. Zach could feel his fingers, still sliding in residual motion over their sensitive lengths, and they breathed each other’s air, slumping together as their muscles relaxed.
Chris looked down at the mess splashed across both of their stomachs, then back up at Zach with a smirk. “You want me to clean that up?”
Zach glanced down between them and back up into twinkling blue eyes. “You know what? I think it can wait,” he said, nodding toward the bedroom. “Let’s stay dirty for a little while longer.”
Author:
therumjournalsFandom: Star Trek RPF
Pairing: Chris/Zach
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1750
Summary: Chris was doing something at 3:00 AM that involved clattering. This couldn’t be a good sign. (Part of Zach's Rules.)
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY
littleboycalico!!! I WROTE SOME PINTO POOOOOORN JUST FOR YOU! I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AWESOME DAY! PINTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!“Chris?” Zach mumbled, squinting and flopping an arm across the rumpled bedcovers where Chris was supposed to be. He lifted his head groggily from the pillow and peered at the empty bed, then at the clock – 3:00 AM – then at the strip of light that shone in under the closed bedroom door. “Chris?” he said, a little louder. The only response was a rather worrying clatter from somewhere down the hall. Chris was doing something at 3:00 AM that involved clattering. This couldn’t be a good sign.
Zach sat up and rubbed his eyes, exhaustion tempting him to curl up under the covers and wait until the morning to figure out what Chris was up to. Then he heard a loud thump from down the hall, followed by a distinct “Whoops,” and he was up and out of bed, padding quickly across the hardwood floor of the bedroom. He yanked open the door, stepped out into the hallway, and fell flat on his back as his feet slid out from under him.
The fall knocked the wind out of him, and his vision went blurry as his head smacked the uncarpeted floor. He sucked in a painful breath and blinked a few times as Chris’s face appeared above him, looking appropriately distressed. “Are you okay?”
“Ow,” Zach grunted in response. He watched as Chris braced his feet carefully against either side of the hallway before he extended a hand. Zach took it tentatively and let Chris heave him up into standing position – which lasted approximately half a second before he crashed forward onto his hands and knees.
“Chris,” he wheezed, as pain shot through his limbs. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Um. I oiled the floor?”
Of course he did. “Fucking hell, you’re supposed to dilute that shit,” Zach groaned. He heaved a long-suffering sigh and started crawling slowly down the hallway.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to check on my kitchen.”
“Uh, you don’t need to do that. Come on, let’s go back to bed!”
Zach paused mid-crawl to glare at Chris, who was giving him a nervous, pleading smile that sent a spike of apprehension straight down Zach’s spine. Zach made it about three more feet before Chris’s expression morphed into something akin to terror, and Zach looked down to find his hands in a puddle of water that was slowly making its way out of the kitchen.
“Okay, look, I can explain,” Chris said, just as Zach peered around the corner to see the bucket of soapy water that Chris had dropped on its side in the middle of the kitchen. Chris moved past him, saying something about a mop as he stepped onto the soapy tile and went sprawling across the kitchen floor.
“Ow.”
Zach stayed on his hands and knees, slopping through an inch of water as he made his way over to Chris’s prone form. “Chris?”
Chris groaned and rolled onto his back, and Zach had to suppress a smile at the froth of soap bubbles that covered his bare chest and the front of his mesh shorts. Chris’s eyes were squeezed shut and his voice was an agonized whisper. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I'm surprised alright.”
Chris shook his head and turned to look at him through squinty eyes. “I wanted to clean for you. Because, you know, you love it when stuff is clean, and I usually just make messes, and I wanted to do something nice for you-“ He sounded so pathetic that Zach couldn’t help but move closer, stretching out along his side and pressing a kiss to his temple.
“Chris. Baby,” he whispered, nuzzling against his cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Chris sniffed and nodded, and Zach let his lips brush against Chris’s ear. “So please don’t be offended when I say that you are a walking disaster.”
Chris made a sound that Zach thought was a laugh, judging by the hint of a smile on his face as he turned to press their mouths together. Zach swept his tongue along Chris’s lips, deepening the kiss as he slid a hand down Chris’s chest and stomach to palm his stiffening cock. He kissed his way down Chris’s neck, following the trail his fingertips had left across damp skin. He flicked his tongue against a nipple – and pulled away as the bitter flavor of soap coated his tastebuds. “Augh, pthhhh, blech.” He curled his lip, spitting and wiping his t-shirt over his tongue to try to get rid of the taste.
Chris propped himself up on his elbows to watch, not even trying to hide his laughter. “That’s sexy. Wow. I wish the world could see you right now, I really do.”
Zach glared at him. “Yeah, well. You’re the one missing out on a blowjob right now because you’re lying in a puddle of dirty mop water.” He reached up to grab the edge of the counter and pull himself carefully into standing position.
“Hey, where are you going?” Chris asked, pouting up at him as dirty mop water dripped from his hair.
Zach put a hand on the wall and took a cautious step into the hallway. “To the bathroom.”
“Um. You might not want to do that.”
Zach took another step down the hall, braced himself against the wall, and moved his other foot forward. Two more steps and he was at the bathroom. He pushed open the door and was immediately hit by a burning, stinging sensation in his eyes and nostrils. He took a step back into the hall, slammed the door shut, and promptly fell on his ass.
“CHRIS!” he bellowed, not even bothering to get up this time. He lifted his head to see Chris crawling toward him warily.
“I may have used a little too much bleach,” Chris confessed.
Zach chuckled helplessly at the mournful expression on his face and scrambled into sitting position against the wall. He held his arms out and Chris crawled into them, pressing his face into Zach’s t-shirt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“S’okay,” Zach said, running a hand through Chris’s hair. “I know this was all just a ploy to get me to forbid you from ever touching cleaning products again.”
Chris was quiet for a moment, then – “Did it work?” His voice was muffled against Zach’s chest.
“Absolutely.” Zach pulled Chris up for a kiss. “Although,” he murmured against Chris’s lips, “if you’re not going to clean, you’ll have to find other ways to earn your keep.”
Chris hummed in agreement and shifted in Zach’s lap, brushing up against the erection straining his pajama pants. “At least you find my incompetence arousing.”
Zach ran his hands over Chris’s shoulders. “I do. I can't help it. It’s 3:30 in the morning, most of my body is in severe pain, and yet I am so fucking turned on by how pathetic you look right now.” Chris pouted at him, and he leaned forward to suck on that gorgeous bottom lip. His hands crept up to cup Chris’s face, holding him close and licking deep into his mouth.
“You taste like soap,” Chris mumbled. Their noses bumped as Zach brushed soft kisses against his lips.
“Well, you’ve got a dirty mouth,” Zach whispered back, and this time it was Chris who surged into the kiss, sucking Zach’s tongue into his mouth and moaning pornographically as he tried to maneuver closer. He pushed Zach’s knee down and swung a leg over to straddle his lap, and Zach hissed.
“Ow, Chris, fuck. Did I not mention the severe pain?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Chris settled himself gently across Zach’s thighs and leaned down to press their lips together. Zach closed his eyes, drifting into the kiss, so he didn’t notice right away that Chris was stretching an arm out, reaching for something against the wall. Until the kiss stopped, and he opened his eyes to find Chris smirking and unscrewing the cap on the bottle of Murphy’s Oil Soap.
“Chriiis…”
“Shhh.” Chris poured a splash of oil into his palm and set the bottle down, not taking his eyes off Zach’s face.
“Chris, no, no, no way, no--”
Then Chris’s hand was down his pants, tight and slick around his shaft, and the first stroke had him arching up off the floor against his will, gasping at the unexpected sensation. “Fuck, oh god, fuck,” he breathed, as Chris’s fingers twisted around the head of his cock and pressed back down, slow and smooth, and Zach could feel his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Still want me to keep my hands off the cleaning products?” Chris whispered, tightening his grip. Zach keened, writhing under Chris’s touch. The back of his skull smacked against the wall, but he barely even felt it, all of his senses focused on the motion of Chris’s hand, wringing pleasure from him with every slippery tug.
“I swear to god, Chris,” he managed, panting, “if you say anything about polishing my wood, this is over.”
“Why do you hate fun?”
Zach slid his hands around to squeeze Chris’s ass, pulling him closer. He slipped his fingers under Chris’s waistband, pushing it down around his substantial cock and wresting a moan from Chris as he cupped his balls. Chris pushed Zach’s hand away to fist himself with oily fingers, and Zach bucked his hips helplessly at the loss of contact.
Chris closed the last remaining distance between them, mashing their mouths together as he wrapped his fingers around both of them, and they shuddered simultaneously at the sensation. Zach could feel Chris’s dick sliding against his, hot and achingly hard, and he fucked eagerly into Chris’s tight grip. He came with a guttural cry, his body going still, just managing to look down as he spurted against Chris’s abs and over their cocks. Chris bit down on Zach’s lip as he followed quickly, pushing Zach’s t-shirt up just in time to coat his stomach in a wash of liquid heat.
Chris didn’t let go right away. Zach could feel his fingers, still sliding in residual motion over their sensitive lengths, and they breathed each other’s air, slumping together as their muscles relaxed.
Chris looked down at the mess splashed across both of their stomachs, then back up at Zach with a smirk. “You want me to clean that up?”
Zach glanced down between them and back up into twinkling blue eyes. “You know what? I think it can wait,” he said, nodding toward the bedroom. “Let’s stay dirty for a little while longer.”
