Pinto Pornapalooza fic – Wanted: Single M

Title: Wanted: Single M
Pairing: Pinto, for beederiffic ‘s Pinto Pornapalooza II
Rating: NC-17
Length: 7344 words
Warnings: None. If you’re looking for porn, you came to the right place. I doubt anyone clicking here is about to be surprised.
Prompt filled: Chris decides it’s time to act on his bi-curiosity once and for all, so he posts an online personals ad asking for a weekend marathon of no-strings sex and is surprised to see a familiar face when he arrives at the meeting point…

A/N: Apparently my brain can’t process the point behind PWP. It kept trying to put in a plot. I hope I managed to keep it sufficiently shallow for the whole point, which is to say, there is none other than the express hotness required to fill this prompt. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ZACH! Banner art done by the incredibly talented norfolkdumpling . Oh my god, I want to lick them both.

A/N2: I wouldn’t even be in this fandom if not for the lovely fenravenz , who kindly (and with trademark honesty) beta’d my prompt fill. ILU, bb.

BiWM, 6’1” blue/brn seeking experienced SGM or SBiM for a weekend in Malibu and everything that goes with it, with the added bonus of no-strings-attached. Meet first before the weekend in question. Discretion an absolute must. Mailbox 1610.

Chris threw his pen in the trash in frustration when he noticed his ink-stained fingers, the result of having chewed the end to death while going through the responses to his ad.

What the fuck am I doing? I could go down to Packing Heat and pick up some random guy in fifteen minutes. But he’d avoided the area’s newest rainbow-flavored hot spot for good reason: high profile because of its novelty and recent sightings of celebrities not known for being interested in that lifestyle. The paps made a habit of lurking around the place, and the last thing Chris wanted was his face with the Big Gay Question Mark over it splashed on the Internet. Well, he didn’t care so much, but his PR people would have a shit fit, and that was an argument he just didn’t want to have again. That was one of the reasons he was so late in pulling his bi trigger. That, and random hookups had blown up in his face.

“You know, you could place a personal ad.” Zoe had said. He’d groaned, forehead falling forward onto the table at the little bistro where they were having a late lunch. He’d been in a bad mood from the night before, trying to find someone at a club only to have two offers for sex in the disgusting bathroom, one guy who’d made a scene wanting Chris to dominate him right there on the dance floor, and the last one had recognized him, asking if they could get photographed together going for breakfast the next morning.

Zoe was having none of his attitude, finally cornering him into talking about it.

“It’s not that I’m looking for a fucking relationship, but really, is it that hard to hook up with someone discreet that isn’t getting paid for it? It’s never been this difficult before.” Their food came and he lifted his head off the table, digging into his sandwich as if a full mouth would get him out of talking about it. Persistent Zoe continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

“Totally anonymous and you’d learn a little about the person before you met him. Then you can meet face to face and see if it’s worth taking further. Plus, I would think you, master wordsmith, could craft a fantastic personal ad that would have you swimming in offers.” She’d grinned triumphantly when he agreed the idea had merit.

He was grateful that she hadn’t said what he was afraid she, or anyone who found out, would: Talk to Zach. He would know how Chris could find someone accommodating.

“Or, you could talk to Zach,” she said around a mouthful of salad. “He could help you find someone.”

Chris barely kept himself from glaring at her. “I don’t want to talk to Zach. I love the guy, but do you know how many times I’ve heard him rant that he’s not the gay authority his friends think he is? Seriously, he actually spit on me in his vehemence about someone calling him ‘Gay Wikipedia’. I’d be comfortable talking to him about it, but I get his point. He’s not responsible for everyone else’s curiosity just because he had his shit figured out long before the rest of us did.”

They ate in silence before he emitted a soft chuckle, looking at her with sidelong skepticism. “A personal ad, huh? I guess I could be specific about what I’m looking for. And could weed out the obvious crazies up front.”

Zoe nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll send you my bill, Captain.”

“How about I just buy your silence by paying for your ridiculously overpriced salad?” he grinned at her.

**********

In the end, he’d gone with simple and straightforward in his ad, and now, he stared at the notepad in front of him with names of those who had responded beside a complicated series of symbols that comprised his ranking system, his eyes sore from reading emails for hours. Seemed a lot of people were interested in a trip to Malibu and it showed. A few more were promising, but something in their information turned him off. Too clingy-sounding. Serious baggage from last relationship. Couldn’t spell a fucking word. Those all went by way of the deleting mouse click.

Which left him with three possibilities: Alex, Mark, and Noah.

None of them included pictures, but to be honest, he was looking for a hook-up, not a life partner. He didn’t need a Disney prince. Their general physical descriptions let him know they weren’t so obese that sexual logistics would be awkward, and he could handle pretty much any type as long as they were patient with his inexperience. Deep down, that was his biggest fear, that he’d pick someone, get all the way to Malibu, and they’d find out he was an ass virgin and decide to take off. Don’t be ridiculous. People love virgins, he thought. Maybe he’d heard Zach rant too much about getting hit on by the curious, not-really-gay looky-loos, and being tired of guys who didn’t know what to do when the moment of truth arrived.

So he threw the three names in a hat, drew out Alex’s name, and hit reply to the response, requesting they meet up for a drink. He just finished up replying to a long email from his sister when a new email arrived.

Chris,

It’s fantastic that you’re interested in meeting up, but two days ago, I met someone who seems almost perfect. I’d have been happy to have a drink with you, but I think I’m going to pass on your invitation and see where this other thing goes. I hope you understand, and good luck!

Alex

Well shit. Maybe he’d taken too long weeding through the responses. Chris hit a quick reply back wishing Alex luck and drew out the second name. Noah.

Here goes. He reread his carefully crafted response, mouse hovering over the send button. With a deep breath, he clicked.

**********

Barbarella in Silverlake was a good place to meet, according to Noah. It wasn’t in Chris’s common hang out rotation, so he doubted he’d run into any friends. The atmosphere was cozy, masculine. Long leather couches, bar with a dozen taps along the back wall, waitresses and bartenders in black bustiers. Chris turned right and walked to one of the vacant red leather booths in the side bar, near the small dance floor. He faced the entrance and stretched his legs out so his feet would be visible.

You’ll be able to find me because of my shoes. Black shirt, jeans, and red and black shoes.

The Nikes he’d worn to Wondercon never failed to grab attention, regardless of where he wore them. Noah had described what he’d be wearing – jeans, a gray button down shirt and thick black framed glasses – so Chris would recognize him. Ordering a beer from the waitress, Chris nervously played with his cell phone, rereading the email setting up this encounter, trying to glean some idea of what Noah would be like from his words. There wasn’t much to go on. The minutes ticked by, ten minutes turning into twenty, then thirty. Disappointment began to eat away at him. What the hell was he doing, relying on personal ads? He should just go, find another, saner way to go about this. Gulping down the last couple swallows of his beer, he started to rise, but movement by the restrooms caught his attention.

Sucking in a breath, Chris sat back down and yanked his outstretched feet beneath the table. What the fuck is Zach doing here? He grabbed one of the menus from the next table over and opened it in front of his face, peering at his friend from around the blockade. Zach scanned the room and headed for the bar, propping himself up on one of the padded leather barstools and ordering a glass of wine.

Please don’t look over here, please don’t look over here, please don’t lo—shit.

“Chris! What are you doing here, man?” Zach’s smile was warm, happy to see him, eyes bright behind his glasses as he approached, wine in hand.

“Hey! I’ve never been here before so I thought I’d try it. I’m supposed to meet a friend from Berkeley, but he’s late. Surprised to see you here.”

Zach shrugged, eyes scanning the room again. “I come here sometimes to hang out, meet new people. It’s a nice place, and laid back. Not a lot of pretentious assholes and it’s classy.”

It was early, not yet 10 pm, and while the club was spacious, Chris imagined in about an hour or so, it would fill with people, making both locating Noah and having a decent conversation with him more difficult. Chris fidgeted, picking at his fingernails.

“I would have pegged you for a more crowded place, with techno shit shaking down the walls,” Chris said, thinking hard at Zach, So that’s where you should go, and leave me to my embarrassing blind date.

“Care if I sit down? I’ll wait with you until your friend gets here. My date seems to be late, too.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Date? You didn’t pick him up?” No, don’t sit down, don’t si—argh.

Zach shook his head. “Nah. Seemed more convenient to just meet up here. We may end up somewhere else, but we’ll see. He has to show up, first. He’s about half an hour late.” Zach coolly checked his watch. Chris eyed him. How could Zach seem so calm if he was being stood up? Shouldn’t he be making phone calls? Outside the club, where it was quiet? So Chris could meet Noah and slip out a side door to find a place better suited to talk, a.k.a. somewhere Zach wasn’t?

“What’s his name? Do I know him?”

Zach took a swallow of wine, carefully setting his glass back down on the table. “I don’t think you do, but his name is Chris, too. That’s kind of how I think of him in my head, Chris 2.” He chuckled, scanning the crowd again.

“Where’d you meet him?” Chris resisted rolling his eyes at himself. He was supposed to be trying to get Zach to move along, nothing to see here, instead of keeping him talking.

Zach fidgeted a little, looking at his hands. “I haven’t yet. Something a friend set up. Seemed nice in email though.”

“You know what? I think I’m going to call my friend. Maybe he got lost or something,” Chris excused himself to the bathroom, leaning against the sink and pulling out his phone. He shot a quick email to Noah. Has something come up or did I get the time wrong? Seems you’re a little late.

The reply, a minute or so later, confused him. Not late. I’m here, looking for you, but I don’t see you. What did you say you look like again?

Chris answered, repeating what he was wearing. He could have just told Noah he was in the bathroom, but somehow that seemed an embarrassing way to meet someone new, even if it was for no strings attached sex. Chris didn’t want to start this thing off on a sleazy note. But that didn’t stop him from asking where Noah was sitting.

Side bar.

Chris frowned. There hadn’t been that many people there, and he’d been paying attention to everyone in that room. Shoving his phone back in his pocket, Chris exited the bathroom and headed back. Scanning the twenty or so people standing and sitting around, Chris didn’t see any of them looking as Noah had described himself, and most of them were already paired up.

Wait.

Chris stopped in the middle of the room, staring. Zach was there. Wearing a gray button down shirt, jeans, and his hipster glasses. Just as realization dawned, his eyes widening, Zach took a survey of the room himself…and stopped to stare at Chris’s shoes. Then his face. A stunned expression mirrored his own. For an instant, Chris considered just high-tailing it out of there, chalking it up to embarrassing karma and never talking to Zach again.

Then Zach smiled. Genuine, the one Chris had always loved to see, that reached his eyes and transformed his face.

Oh my god, what am I doing? His feet moved of their own accord back to the table, and he sat down, focusing intently on peeling the label from his empty beer bottle and not looking at Zach.

“Malibu, huh?” Zach asked, not unkindly.

“Noah, huh?” Chris replied, a twitch of a smile playing at his lips. The waitress came by again, taking Chris’s bottle, his distraction, and asked if he wanted another. “God, yes. Bring me two, actually.”

Zach ordered another glass of wine, and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I never would have pegged you for the personal ad type.”

Chris bit his lip, finally looking Zach in the eye. “I could say the same.”

Zach shrugged. “I’ve been known to answer one now and then, when I don’t want to deal with the clubs, the paps, or some of the sick people out there. This way, you can check someone out without getting sucked into unwanted kinks. I don’t do it often. This is only the third or fourth time over the last few years.”

Chris clammed up, draining half of one of his beers when the waitress set them down on the table. His turn to explain, but he found he couldn’t. His mouth wouldn’t work. His face was too red. His shoes were too fucking red. God, what was he thinking? He wanted to find and maim Zoe. He opened his mouth to beg off for the night, extract a promise from Zach that they could just forget this and never speak of it again so he could go die of embarrassment in the comfort of his own home, but Zach’s hand covered his on the table, causing the words to jam in his throat. Zach’s palm was warm, dry, reassuring, his fingers sure and gentle as they closed around Chris’s.

“Chris?”

When he looked at Zach’s face, he saw concern, some humor but not at his expense. Mostly, he saw his best friend. He exhaled, finished his beer, started on the second one. “When I finish this, can we go somewhere else? For coffee or something? I have to figure out how I want to explain this without sounding like a completely lame tool.” Zach gave his hand one more squeeze, then let go, nodding. They finished their drinks in silence, surprisingly companionable despite Chris’s mortification.

Outside in the cool night air, Chris seemed to find his words again. “You don’t seem surprised. That I wrote a personal ad that started with ‘bi single white male’.” The words rushed their way out of Chris’s mouth, as if admitting to them at the fastest possible speed would somehow dull their humiliation level.

Zach gave a soft chuckle as they walked aimlessly down the street together. “Chris, you seem so ready to run, I don’t think peppering you with a bunch of questions would help. I am surprised. I thought you were straight. But honestly, I hope you don’t think I’m judging you. Because I’m not.”

Chris stopped, stared at his friend, then shook his head. Those words were exactly what he needed to hear, at exactly the right time. “So, uh… here’s the thing. I’m bi, but I’ve never been with a guy. Some messing around, but nothing heavy. I wasn’t ready. The last few months, I’ve decided it’s time to nut up, quite literally, but damn, finding someone human that’s not out for marriage, bondage, or fame is impossible. I really didn’t want to buy a plane ticket to somewhere more anonymous for a simple hook up. Zoe suggested this and here I am, rambling like a total idiot to the one person I didn’t want to bring this up to.”

Zach’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

Chris looked chagrined, continuing hastily, “I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just that you’re always saying how you’re not the go-to guy for advice on this kind of thing, so I didn’t want to make assumptions that because it was me, you’d overlook your annoyance or something.”

Zach held up a hand. “I’m not opposed to giving advice at all, and Chris, you can always come to me with anything. You know that. What bugs me is people who clearly aren’t interested in sincere advice, but are merely prying into my personal life. You wouldn’t do that. Doesn’t even apply to you.”

Finding a bench in the park they’d wandered into, Chris sat heavily, sighing. “Shit, now I have to start all over. Seriously, I hate trying to look up acceptable clubs online, where the paps won’t be crawling or the lighting’s not too bright inside and I can maybe find a small chance at anonymity –“

“Chris.”

“— or rewriting that stupid fucking ad and god, going through all those email responses – “

“Chris.”

“— damn, deciphering people’s words again, I really need to make a new coding system – “

“Chris!”

“What?”

“It doesn’t have to be this hard.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve been navigating this world for years. I feel like the fucking Rain Man after missing a Judge Wopner episode.”

Zach barked out a laugh. “Would it help you if you knew something embarrassing about me? Level the playing field?”

Chris nodded, turning to face Zach, kicking his leg up on the bench, his arm snaking along the backrest just behind Zach’s shoulder. Zach took a deep breath. “Okay, so there’s this guy I’ve been interested in. For years, I’ve been caught off guard by him every time we hang out, trying not to think too much about him, because I never got any indication that he could be into me. Not one thing that couldn’t also be explained by just being good friends. It’s something I’ve gotten used to, the crushes on straight guys. It sucks, but I get over it after a couple months. Not with this guy, though. He’s awesome, Chris. Funny, smart, does not back down in a word war, and goddamn if he’s not the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. Seriously.”

Eyeing Zach with a sidelong glance, Chris remained quiet, though his heart sped up the more Zach talked.

“So this crush of mine, it’s pathetic. I accidentally swiped one of his shirts from the gym thinking it was mine when we worked out together once – which was a disaster by the way, since working out with a chubby is impossible – and I still have the shirt. Never washed it because I can smell him on it, and yeah, that’s what I mean by pathetic. I can finally admit to myself when I go out clubbing that I’m on the lookout for him, on the slight hope that he’d frequent the kinds of clubs I go to, that maybe I’d have a chance with him. It’s irrational, and I play little games with myself, like if the DJ plays a certain song next, then that means he’s going to be at that club later and mine for the taking. Those are the nights I close a place down, if the song comes on. It’s only happened twice, both times with disappointing results. He never showed. I was just starting to talk myself into getting over it, that this was all so stupid.

“I let myself hope one more time and answered a personal ad, one of the few times I’ve done it and hoped in the back of my mind because the description matched my crush, that it would be him. I told myself that if I didn’t end up getting contacted, or if it turned out not to be him, I was done with the stupid games and silly high school heart flutters. They don’t mean anything, and I would never assert myself on someone I wasn’t absolutely sure played for the same team as me. So I answered the ad, and set the meet up, and surprise of all surprises, there he was, my crush, sitting there in his red shoes waiting for me, and suddenly it doesn’t seem so impossible, so pathetic that I let myself get so worked up over it. Unless, of course, he’s just not that into me.”

The air grew thick, heavy with humidity and expectation. Sometime in the last several moments of Zach’s monologue, Chris’s scalp had started to tingle, his brain lighting his nerves on fire, and he listened, rapt. Zach looked over at him, his eyes twin pools of darkness shining in the small amount of streetlight filtering through the trees, the set of his jaw showing vulnerability.

“What would you say if your crush admitted to feeling the same way, but hadn’t acted on it because he was afraid you’d think he was just experimenting with you the way you’ve railed about others in the past? That he never would have resorted to a personal ad if there was even a hint of possibility with you that he wasn’t afraid would have lessened your opinion of him?”

Without missing a beat, Zach replied, “I’d say I don’t need Malibu.” He reached out, fingers curling around the back of Chris’s neck, and brought him close, tentatively brushing his lips against Chris’s, as if he were waiting for him to back off, say he was just kidding, and man, Zach fell right into that one, what a knee-slapper.

Chris groaned with impatience, crushing their lips together, and it was white fire from the first solid contact. Zach’s lips were soft against his, seeking, fitting together in a way that made Chris’s whole body tingle. He let out a near growl when the tips of their tongues touched and slid together, Chris tangling his hands in Zach’s hair the way he’d always wanted to do.

It took everything in his power to back off, to put his hands to Zach’s shoulders and push him back, and even then, they were cheek to stubbled cheek. “We can’t do this here, Zach.”

“Say the word, and we’ll go to my place,” Zach’s voice husked into Chris’s ear, lips leaving a subtle kiss beneath his earlobe.

“How fast can we get there?” Chris stood, yanking Zach up and into his arms.

*****

Once inside Zach’s house, they crashed together again, all hands and lips and tongues, fiercely vying to take in as much of each other as possible. Chris pulled at Zach’s shirt buttons before slapping Zach’s hands away from his own shirt, undoing only enough of the front to hike it off over his head. Zach followed suit, kicking off his shoes and hopping around on one foot while attempting to remove his socks. They started laughing when Chris called it Zach’s flamingo on speed impression. The reminder that they were entering new territory despite the ease between them quickly sobered Chris, and his face grew serious.

“We really going to do this?” he whispered, and he knew his nerves were written all over his face. Zach stepped up to him, a palm to his cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone.

“We do whatever you’re comfortable with.” The smile that Chris loved so much crinkled Zach’s eyes and he kissed Chris sweetly, slowing their movements down, his arms winding their way around Chris’s shoulders, holding him tight. “But I won’t lie and say I don’t want to blow your mind in every way possible.”

A shudder moved through the younger man’s body, flashes of things he’d only imagined while jacking off flickering through his mind. Shyly, he reached down and threaded his fingers through Zach’s, turned, and led the way back to Zach’s bedroom, his heart thumping in his chest. Through the doorway, he turned and kissed Zach again, fingers working at pants buttons, pulling at their few remaining clothes until they were no longer an obstacle. Leading Zach to the bed, Chris sat on the edge of it, nuzzling his face into Zach’s stomach, tongue playing over the constellation of freckles hidden in soft hair then dipping into Zach’s belly button, which made them both laugh. Stroking up the back of Zach’s thighs with his hands, Chris made his way lower, nipping at Zach’s hipbone, his hands finding and grabbing two healthy handfuls of ass to orient Zach in front of his mouth.

Zach brushed a hand through Chris’s hair, eyes glued to the vision before him. “Remember, Chris. Nothing you’re not comfortable with.” Voice husky and disbelieving that this was really happening.

“I want it all,” Chris murmured, nosing his way through Zach’s pubes and inhaling, savoring the pure smell that was Zach, the one that would waft across his nose during filming and in interviews where they were sat practically in each other’s laps, making him wonder how that scent would be wrapped totally around him. “Starting with this.”

Fingers wrapped at the base of Zach’s cock, he opened his mouth and descended over the head, lapping at the ridge with his tongue, a hot exhalation above him as Zach sighed. It wasn’t exactly what he expected. Sure, after a few minutes, his jaw began to ache, but he’d been afraid the feel of a cock on his tongue would be off-putting, familiar enough that he’d know what to do, but different enough that he would be bad at it. Based on the soft sighs and small words of encouragement Zach was making, he wasn’t too unskilled. He let his intensity build, bobbing his head and taking in as much of Zach as he could. He was disappointed that he couldn’t control his gag reflex enough to deep throat, but he figured with practice, that would be less of an issue. He tried to make up for it by jacking the length he couldn’t get into his mouth, and swirling his tongue more, insinuating the tip of it into Zach’s slit.

“Oh my god, Chris… you have… to… stop.” Zach’s fingers clenched in Chris’s hair, his hands gently pushing back, trying to peel Chris off of him.

“I can do better, Zach.” He went to resume his attention to Zach’s dick, but Zach knelt in front of him, lips on his.

“Much better and you won’t get to experience everything, Chris. I’ll be too far gone,” Zach’s words, murmured into his chin, made him smile.

“Oh, well. We can’t have that, can we?”

“Look at you, being all coy,” Zach smiled into his neck, pushing him to his back on the bed, covering his body after aligning their erections, Zach’s still slick with Chris’s spit. With measured pumps of their hips, Chris picked up the mood, slow and easy, in no hurry to get anywhere fast. Zach, resting on his elbows above Chris, looked straight into his eyes, and Chris found himself mesmerized by the expressions crossing Zach’s features, the little tics brought about by Chris’s hands finding sensitive spots on the body above him. They kissed lazily, fully exploring their mouths, tongues dancing together and apart, then reconnecting, taking pleasure in the taste and feel of each other. Chris trailed his fingers along Zach’s spine, down the sides of his hips, over the smooth hump of his ass flexing and relaxing with their movements, memorizing the sensations he felt and caused in Zach.

It was everything Chris hoped for, for his first time with a man. He didn’t want to get so wrapped up in being good at it that he forgot to pay attention to what it felt like, and Zach seemed to get that, grounding him in the moment, patiently letting Chris explore and be explored, lips over smooth skin, fingers curled in soft chest hair, teeth lightly scraping nipple and belly button.

Incredible though it was, Chris wanted more, wanted to feel Zach everywhere. His hip thrusts changed, more calculated, more focused and driven, and his hands pulled at Zach’s body to increase contact rather than caress. Zach, sensing the change in mood, rolled them over with Chris atop him, shifting his hips so the angle changed and Chris’s dick slid between his ass cheeks. Raising an eyebrow in question, Chris rose, kneeling between Zach’s spread legs, running his hands up and down the thighs resting on his own. Zach shuddered every time Chris’s fingers grazed the insides of his thighs. Fascinated by the effect, Chris took his time, tugging gently at the hair on the older man’s legs, growing softer and lighter toward his crotch. Chris fingered Zach’s balls, rolling them gently with one hand while he stroked Zach’s length with the other.

“Chris,” Zach breathed. “I need to feel you. I don’t usually bottom, but god, you’re so fucking hot, and I’ve wanted you for so long. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

White lightning zipped up Chris’s spine at the words, and he bent forward to crush his lips to Zach’s, sucking on his tongue, drawing a moan from him, taking the sounds into himself. He pulled back enough to whisper, “Lube, condom?”

“You mean to tell me you went out on a date unprepared?” Zach teased, biting at Chris’s lower lip.

“I didn’t expect anything tonight. Malibu, remember?” No witty retort, just desire fueled hotter when Zach wrapped his legs around Chris’s waist and pulled, Chris’s dick sliding between his cheeks again. “Lube, condom. Now.”

“Nightstand,” Zach chuckled, releasing Chris’s waist so he could reach.

While he fumbled with the lube, Chris stilled, looking nearly everywhere but Zach’s face as he admitted, “Uh, I’m not a hundred percent sure I know what I’m doing.” He felt his face redden at the admission. But this was Zach, who told him he could ask anything, could do whatever he wanted, and more than anything, he wanted to get this right.

“It’s okay, I’ll talk you through it. Start with one finger, and I’ll let you know when to go for more.” Zach’s voice was patient, warm like melted butter, encouraging. “I doubt it’ll take you long to figure it out.”

Chris coated his fingers and once the lube was warmed, slipped his hand between Zach’s legs, watching his face as he parted his cheeks and spread lube over Zach’s pucker, letting the tips of his fingers massage into Zach’s perineum.

Zach sucked in a breath. “Okay, rubbing right there, you’re indirectly stimulating my prostate. You can do the same thing from inside, if you can visualize it, and it’s much more intense.”

Chris looked down at what he was doing, tongue snaking out between his lips in concentration as he carefully slid one finger into Zach’s ass, up to his knuckle. Working in and out a few times, watching the hole clench around him, he turned his wrist and crooked his finger a little, feeling around and looking back and forth between his hand and Zach’s face. Zach hissed as Chris’s fingertip felt a small bump, and Chris’s eyes darted to watch the expression play across Zach’s features as he began to rub in tiny, gentle circles. Zach arched his back, hands fisting in the sheets, his breathing coming in short bursts, a staccato series of grunts escaping him.

“Right there?” Chris asked, though he knew based on the reaction he saw. He just wanted to hear how wrecked Zach sounded.

“Uh huh. Try two.”

Chris added a second finger, scissoring them, each fingertip alternating presses into the new secret trove of pleasurable treasure, testing out long rubs versus shallow circles, varying pressure and smooth strokes with both fingers. The whole time, his eyes locked on Zach’s face telling him he was getting it right, the increasingly incoherent sounds Zach made spurring him on until Zach raised his head, teeth clenched, cords standing out on his neck and demanded, “Chris, if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear to god I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

“I guess you’re ready then,” Chris grinned.

“Smart ass… you think?” Zach growled, mumbling something like, “Don’t know what to do, my ass-aaaah.” Chris removed his fingers, grabbing for more lube and the condom, slicking up his dripping erection. He knelt between Zach’s legs, arms hooking behind his knees to pull him closer before reaching down to guide himself into Zach.

“Oh god,” he breathed, watching as his head disappeared inside Zach’s body, Zach’s hands gripping his forearms.

“Give me a second,” Zach panted, hands squeezing at Chris, who stilled his hips, resisting the urge to push in one smooth motion. With a nod after a moment, Zach motioned for Chris to push in the rest of the way, and when Chris was balls deep, he lowered himself over Zach and kissed him, reveling in the tight heat that enveloped him.

“You feel amazing. Jesus, Z.” Chris buried his face in the crook of Zach’s neck, suddenly close to coming and he stayed still even when Zach gave him the go ahead. If he moved, it would be all over. The ball of energy at the base of his spine smoothed out and dissipated, radiating outward through his torso, warming his whole body as he breathed through it, experimentally giving his hips a small thrust.

Zach groaned, reaching his hands down to Chris’s hips to coax him into more. “Fuck me, Chris. I’ve been waiting for this.”

It was as if his voice bypassed Chris’s brain and spoke directly to his reproductive organs, because much of what happened next was nearly involuntary, Chris just along for the ride of his life. His hips snapped, pulling his dick from Zach in a smooth stroke before burying himself to the hilt, his balls flush against Zach’s ass cheeks before pulling back to do it again. He tried to smooth out the desperate rhythm, tried to keep some finesse as he fucked Zach into the mattress, losing more and more control over his voice and reactions, short bursts of words escaping him. “So hot… fucking hell… wanted you forever…” He felt the very essence of a caveman, but as the energy built again in his spine, he ceased to care, and Zach’s expressions and voice boring into him drove him on. Shifting up to his knees to pound into Zach, he gripped Zach’s legs, pistoning his hips and watching his dick slide in and out, Zach’s hole clenching and unclenching around him, carrying him up to the crest of a pleasure current and headlong into an orgasm so fierce he couldn’t tell if he was shouting or singing.

Muscles ticking as pleasantly as a cooled engine after a long drive, Chris came back to himself, grinning goofily at Zach, who was still panting, his hands peeling Chris’s from his thighs and linking their fingers to pull Chris down on top of him.

“I didn’t come,” Zach whispered in Chris’s ear, and tightened his arms when Chris tried to rear back to look at him, blocking his attempt. Chris’s limbs were noodly, spent and uncooperative as he struggled to free himself, to make sure he did this right. “It was so fucking hard not to come, watching you, your beautiful face filled with such ecstasy. I imagined what you would look like so many times, above me like that, and the real thing was so much better than I ever pictured.”

Zach’s voice eased into him like smoke, curling into his ears, down his spine, around his lungs and heart, constricting his breath with the reverence he heard there. “If it was so awesome, why didn’t you come?” Chris couldn’t help the shake that entered his words, even at a whisper.

“Because you said you want it all, and I couldn’t fuck you if I came,” Zach’s tongue licked at a drop of sweat behind Chris’s ear, sending a shiver through him. His softened dick, still half inside Zach, gave a twitch at the words even as Zach rolled them over, gingerly pulling the condom from Chris, knotting it, and tossing it into the trash. He smoothed his hands over Chris’s arms, his shoulders and down across his chest, skin sweat-slicked and pliant. His voice licked at Chris’s edges as he lowered his face to pepper kisses along Chris’s jaw.

“The first time you get fucked, no lie, can really hurt. Best time to do it is when you’re relaxed and post-orgasmic, which, God Chris, you really are beautiful this way.” Zach sat back, his eyes devouring Chris’s flushed skin, his breathy mouth, blissed out eyes. Chris reached up to put a hand to Zach’s cheek, smiling, pulling him back down for a lazy kiss.

“By all means, Zach. I’m relaxed and post-orgasmic. My turn to see you come.” He watched Zach grab another condom and settle between his legs. He didn’t go straight for the lube either, letting his hands wander around Chris’s stomach, across his hips and up and down his thighs, keeping him relaxed and open. Chris closed his eyes and fell into the sensations, humming approval when Zach dug the heels of his hands into Chris’s thigh muscles. After several minutes, Zach moved his hands between Chris’s legs, still just stroking, keeping his touch firm. With a dollop of lube on his finger, he spread Chris’s legs further and dipped a finger into Chris’s cleft. Expecting the sensation to make him clench, Chris was surprised to find himself so relaxed that he barely flinched, reaching his own hands down to hold his cheeks apart. Zach, ever considerate, propped his hips up onto a pillow for better access.

“Damn, I should have thought of that,” Chris murmured.

“There’s always next time,” Zach answered, eyes locked on his hand as he slid a finger inside Chris’s hole.

Chris’s gasp cut off his question that there would be a next time, and heat bloomed throughout his whole body as Zach expertly flicked his finger against Chris’s prostate. “Holy shit!” Chris jumped as if he’d sat on a live wire. “There goes my relaxed bliss.” His voice teased, but he could still tell his body was more open to this. The intrusion of Zach’s finger wasn’t unpleasant, and was rapidly becoming enjoyable. “Especially if you keep doing thaaaaaaaat.” His hips snapped toward Zach’s hand of their own accord, his body letting them both know in no uncertain terms that he was into this. His soft cock gave a little wave at the stimulation, definitely not down for the count. Zach’s eyes widened.

“Seriously?”

Chris grinned. “He likes you.”

Zach watched, with the addition of a second finger, as Chris grew mostly hard again. “This happen a lot?” Zach breathed, fascinated.

“Depends. If I’m self-conscious, no way in hell.” Chris’s voice held a little awe at that, that he could be this relaxed, this open and frank with someone about his inexperience, about his desires and still be unselfconscious enough to have nearly zero refractory period.

Zach smiled. “Never been with anyone multi-orgasmic before.” There was a glint to his eye that made Chris pause, but it was quickly lost to him as sensation swept over him while Zach’s fingers worked him open, free hand giving Chris’s renewed hard-on a loving stroke. When Zach positioned himself, lubed and gloved up – when had he done that, Chris wondered – at Chris’s entrance, he was more than ready for it, hiking his legs back by the knees.

“Take a deep breath, and when I push into you, breathe out, and push out at me, too. Seems counterintuitive but trust me, it helps.”

The blunt tip of Zach’s head pressed into him, and though Chris’s first instinct was to gasp and clench, he didn’t, doing what Zach instructed as his hole was breached.

“Breathe again, Chris. That burn is your body stretching, but it’ll go away in a second.” As he spoke, Zach very carefully pushed further in, stopping when Chris’s hands fluttered, giving him the time he needed to acclimate. Chris marveled at Zach’s control, knowing that he’d had a hard time holding himself back moments before in Zach’s position, let alone that he would have been unable to talk anyone through it. Chris reached up and stroked his fingers across Zach’s abs, feeling the rock hard control there keeping him in check.

Chris breathed steadily, deeply, and nodded, beckoning Zach into him, and when he was there, Zach held himself above Chris, stilled and smiling down at him. “Consider your ass cherry popped.”

Chris chuffed a laugh, the sensation strange in his core and his ass. “So go for it. Deflower me, Zach.”

Smooth strokes, deep penetrative stares to match their pelvic thrusts, kisses incongruously gentle compared to their bodies’ need, building and plateauing, then building again. Chris reached down to rest his hands on Zach’s ass cheeks, feeling the flex of muscle beneath soft skin, the slick move of hip, riding the buck and dance of him from inside and out. He felt full, as if Zach were burrowing into him and making himself comfortable, not only grazing his prostate with every other thrust but peeling back layers, months of frustration with his talented dick, getting deeper than Chris would have ever expected when he began this endeavor, beyond a one nighter, or no-strings weekend. The strings were tying themselves between them, and Chris found himself glad of it, Zach’s words of ‘next time’ echoing in his body, his libido, burying themselves in his chest.

Zach reared up, pulling Chris’s legs up straight against his chest, feet in the air above his head. His hips pumped faster, his breath huffing against the backs of Chris’s calves as Zach turned his face to nuzzle into Chris’s leg hair. Chris reached down to jack himself, eyes glued to Zach’s face, watching captivated as his jaw clenched, then slackened, his brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed in pleasure, squinted shut, his mouth forming a perfect O as his hips froze, dick pushed deep into Chris’s body, a cry escaping as he came. Chris felt Zach’s thigh muscles vibrate with it, the drawing up of Zach’s nuts against his ass, and hand flying over his cock, Chris arched and came again, painting his stomach and even his chest with it, his ass clenching around Zach’s spasming dick.

For the longest moment, the only sound in the room was the whir of the air conditioner kicking on and their heavy breathing. Zach disengaged from Chris, leaned over and grabbed a few tissues, cleaning Chris’s mess off him before collapsing next to him on his back.

Chris turned his head to the side, studying Zach’s profile. “So, compared to all the sex you’ve had, how’d I do for my first time?”

“Oh, no no no. I’m not starting that game. Besides, the results are skewed because of my completely irrational opinion of you. Crushes are like that. Results aren’t typical. So I’m not going to tell you that you’re mind blowing in bed, because I can’t suffer the wrath of your ego swallowing up all of Silverlake with the knowledge that it was the best sex I’ve had, maybe ever, because really? Your first time? Should not be that good. Ever. So clearly, I can’t make an objective observation.”

Chris grinned, rolling to his side and propping his head on his hand, running his other hand through Zach’s chest hair. “Sounds to me like you need a bigger sample size. For scientific purposes.”

Zach rolled over, scooting his back into Chris’s chest and pulling his arm over his waist. Chris hooked the sheet up with his foot, tangling their legs together, humming contentedly.

“Maybe we need a different environment,” Zach mumbled sleepily. “These aren’t exactly lab-worthy conditions. I hear Malibu is nice.”

Chris laughed softly, nuzzling into the nape of Zach’s neck. “You’re just in it for the vacation, Noah.”

~ by A on June 1, 2011.