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suture up your future

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spread your love like a fever
& don't you ever come down.


"You know, even by your standards this is a pretty mundane Friday night," Chris calls from the living room, where he remains poised over the coffee table -- the quintessential position for picking over the last remnants of their take-out.

Zach is, oddly enough, standing in the kitchen, slicing up a lime.

"I worked until three hours ago, since nineteen hours before that," Zach disclaims, coming to stand in the doorway with two bottles of Corona in either hand, a slice of lime floating in each one. Chris raises his eyebrows. "Pizza, beer and TV is about as sophisticated as I'm going to get right now."

Chris makes a face and chews his slice of pepperoni, raising one shoulder in effort to say 'whatever.' He accepts one of the bottles Zach hands him, and wipes pizza sauce from the corner of his mouth as Zach sits down on the couch.

"It's between an infomercial for a purple vacuum, Bollywood news, or the skin channel," Chris explains, flipping through each one. Zach is the worst example of a guy Chris has ever met: he doesn't even have the decency to order the basic cable channels.

Reaching for a slice of pizza, one of two left in the box, both picked over by Chris' nauseating eating habits, Zach bites into it just as a girl holding both of her boobs up to her chin flips by.

"What the hell?" He wonders out loud, biting into his slice. Chris laughs and backtracks, as an escort channel flips onto the screen. The girl in question is wearing a schoolgirl skirt, an open men's work shirt, and is, as mentioned, squishing her boobs up against her chin. Zach makes a face and chews, then, reaching for his beer, asks, "Is this seriously what turns you on?"

Chris makes a face and rests his Corona against his knee.

"This is for teenagers and guys who are well into their forties who can't get laid," Chris clarifies, mouth jumping into a grin as the girl smiles and rests a finger against her bottom lip. Chris looks at Zach sideways. "As an average male, I couldn't be any less turned on."

Snorting, Zach takes another bite of his pizza slice, and says, "Yeah right."

"I'm serious," Chris argues, raising his eyebrows, voice pitching a little. Zach glances over at him and laughs at the righteous indignation in his voice and expression.

Zach settles back into the couch cushions, and kicks one bare foot up onto the coffee table.

"Don't argue with me, come on. It's natural, you see someone who presents themselves as a sexual object, your body responds to it," Zach says, putting on his Mr. Scientific World face. Chris rolls his eyes. "Even if you're not into the... weird schoolgirl thing, or the porno soundtrack, she's still got boobs, man."

Sucking his mouth off of the lip of his beer, Chris makes another face, and proposes, "So you're saying that, situation reversed, if you saw some lumbering hulk covered in body oil and glitter, you'd probably be into it because it's natural?"

"Yeah," Zach laughs, tossing his crust back into the box. He leans into the couch, and raises his beer bottle halfway to his mouth. "Are you honestly telling me that you've never seen boobs or an ass and had even the smallest inclination to just run and jump?"

Chris leans forward and takes the pizza crust out of the box. Breaking it in two, he lobs half of it into the kitchen for Noah, and chews on the other half, working it way back into his molars. He considers Zach's statement as Zach watches him and drinks his beer, foot still casually kicked up onto the coffee table.

"I've always at least been attracted to the girl," Chris says, finally. Zach shrugs and they both coast back to watching what has accidentally become the unceremonious winner of the great channel debate. The advertisement for the first escort has awkwardly transitioned into an information dump, featuring a girl laying upside down on a lounge chair, laughing and twirling her finger into the phone cord.

Zach yawns and leans his head back against the couch, eyes still trained on the TV screen.

"Do you think the guys who phone this actually think they're getting that girl?" Zach asks after a minute of silence, where the phone numbers were presented, as well as the list of carrier terms and conditions that basically consisted of $3.99 a minute.

Chris considers it for a second. "Probably," He answers, moving his leg when Noah comes sniffing around, looking for more of the leftovers Chris gave him earlier. Chris pats his head, and takes another sip of his beer.

"Delusional," Zach snorts. The phone girl changes over to a guy this time, interestingly enough covered in body oil and very obviously shot with a diffused lense. Chris starts laughing, rolling his forehead against the curve of his hand, helpless to deflect the reaction after not enough sleep, too much food, and just enough beer.

Even Zach snickers after a second, saying, "Jesus," after the interim period apparently ends and the guy just starts wiggling around, blowjob face in full effect as the camera pans down his body and then zooms in from the thighs up.

"Carnal reaction, right?" Chris asks, rolling his head against the back of the couch to look at Zach's reaction.

Zach snorts and shrugs. "I'm not into the whole wax-on, wax-off thing, but he'd do in a pinch."

"Does the entire gay community have lower standards as a whole, or is it just you?" Chris laughs, doubling his efforts when Zach shrugs one shoulder easily. "Cause I'm telling you, man, I'd never do the chick equivalent of him."

Zach doesn't really answer him, but he does affix his attention mostly on the TV, which Chris takes as an answer in itself.

"I don't get it," Chris says after another handful of people are presented, both gay and straight, with some who don't seem to care either way. Zach is either falling asleep from exhaustion or from the beer as he rolls his head away from where it had been rested against his hand, and looks at Chris from his position across the couch.

When Chris doesn't continue right away, Zach raises an eyebrow and says, "Don't try to be at all specific, or anything."

"I'm just trying to work out the logistics," Chris says, as if that explains anything. When Zach raises his other eyebrow, too, he kind of laughs and continues, "Who gets to come first, or, oh, this is a good one, actually, what's the policy on swallowing?"

Zach's face goes from tired to semi-interested to completely weirded out before he settles on kind of amused.

"Forty minutes of watching escort ads and suddenly you've got a taste for gay etiquette?" Zach asks, leaning forward to begin collecting their empty bottles. He's got another three or four waiting in the fridge. "You want another one?"

Chris drains the last bit of beer in his and hands the bottle over.

"If you've got one," He says, most of his attention trained on the TV.

A few minutes has Zach wandering over to the kitchen, re-applying the lime slices, and heading back into the living room. Chris looks up at him upon his re-admittance.

"I've actually been wondering since those twins were featured," He admits, a slow grin crawling across his face. Zach makes a face back at him, and hands over a fresh beer.

Bending at the knees to unceremoniously drop himself back down onto the sofa, Zach reaches for the remote and says, possibly joking, "God, you'd make the worst two beer queer ever."

"I've been mistaken for gay before." Chris sounds offended. Zach looks over at him, completely boggled. "Is your laptop around?"

Zach shakes his head and finally, finally changes the channel.

"You're not searching for gay porn," Zach tells him, heading towards the Bollywood channel. He could do with some ridiculous costuming before he sets Chris up on the couch and staggers off to bed.

Chris considers Zach's request as he swallows his beer, alternating between watching Zach watch the TV, staring at the floor while imagining all kinds of crazy shit in his head, and wondering if it would be worth it to get up and get that last slice of pizza out of the fridge.

"How does virginity work?" Chris asks, breaking the beautiful silence that Zach had created with not only most of his concentration, but socialization as well, going towards the crazy Bollywood soap opera singing and dancing its way across the television.

Zach gives up and stares at him hard across the couch. "Are we seriously having this conversation at one thirty in the morning?"

"On your living room couch," Chris confirms, grinning.

Zach continues with the hard stare. "And we're never going to have to do this again, right?"

"Sure," Chris shrugs. They both know he's probably lying.

Sighing, like Chris has asked him to help him move single handedly just because he owns a truck, Zach leans back into the couch, and flips the channel again. Purple vacuum infomercial it is, then. He turns the volume down a few notches.

"What are the logistics of doing it face-to-face?" Chris asks, thumbing the neck of his beer bottle. Zach tries to focus on the infomercial and think of a diplomatic way to phrase his answer. "You'd have to be pretty flexible, huh?"

Zach rolls his head back against the cushions. He purses his lips.

"Think knees to the chest, feet up in the air by your ears," He answers, coasting his gaze over to look at Chris' reaction.

Surprisingly, he doesn't really have one. He purses his bottom lip and thinks about it, and then, in one horrific moment, straightens his hips out on the couch, and tries to lift one leg up.

"You're at the wrong angle," Zach says without meaning to, as Chris shakes his head and, already red in the face from the awkward position of his neck, slides a bit further down the couch. His beer bottle hangs awkwardly from the circle his thumb has made around the neck as he unceremoniously hits the back of his heel against Zach's coffee table.

Zach, for the most part, doesn't help.

"Is that why you're so into the yoga thing?" Chris asks after a second, both feet flat on the floor, hips raised up against the curve of the edge of the couch. Zach thinks hard about the assistant he had on set today, and the big, hairy mole on the bridge of her nose as he tips his beer and swigs from it.

When he realizes Chris is not relenting on the question, he swallows and answers, "Usually I'm not the one bending like that."

"You could, though," Chris reasons, one eyebrow raising. His shoulders are still all jammed up awkwardly against his ears from his position against the couch.

Zach considers it. Well. "Probably," He shrugs.

A slow grin crawls across Chris' face before he jerks to life and rolls off of the couch, landing on his knees. Which is deliciously inappropriate, Zach thinks, draining the rest of his bottle in a few unrelenting gulps.

"Are we done with sex-ed for the night?" Zach asks, laying it on thick as he covers up a yawn with the back of his hand. "I'll go get you a pillow."

Chris rests his cheek against the hand laying on the couch still, and grins.


The next afternoon Zach is wandering down the sidewalk a few blocks over from his house with Noah pawing along in front of him when his phone rings.

"Hello?" He answers, nudging his sunglasses back up his nose.

It's Chris, which doesn't surprise him, calling from a sex shop, which does.

"You won't let me plunder your collection, I'm starting my own," He greets. Zach knots his eyebrows and glances over his shoulder as he and Noah cross the road. "What do you think sounds better, Boys in Suds III, or Jesus Rises, Again?"

Oh god, now Zach really is going to hell.

"I'm hanging up," He says, before unceremoniously disconnecting the call. He flips his phone onto vibrate, thinks better of it, and continues onto silent as they stop at a crosswalk, Do Not Walk sign flickering from the other side of the street.

Zach looks down at Noah, and shakes his head.

"Maybe we'll stay at a nice hotel tonight," He says, pretending Noah understands him.


It isn't a surprise when Chris shows up just after eight, with a plastic bag in one hand and another 12-pack of Corona in the other.

"Maybe I have a hot date tonight," Zach complains, opening the door wider. Chris gives him a look, sets the beer down, and starts kicking off his shoes.

Before he even has a chance to get the door closed, Chris pulls a still wrapped DVD out of his bag and says, "Check it out. Cellboys."

"The law comes out in full force when these hardened criminals get what's coming to them in the barebacking event of the century," Zach says, reading the tagline. He squints at Chris. "Do you even know what barebacking means?"

Chris bends down to pick up the case of beer, and, snatching the case from Zach's hand, starts making his way towards the living room.

"It wasn't a rhetorical question," Zach calls after him, when he doesn't get an answer. Frowning, Zach kicks Chris' shoes closer to the wall, and hesitates, pausing before he goes anywhere else to turn back and throw the chain lock on his front door.

God, please don't let anyone ever find out about this.


Chris navigates through the DVD menu while Zach sits there, picking at his beer bottle label.

"The guy at the thing said this was a really..." He trails off when a preview comes on before the actual movie, a big bang from the very first scene with two guys going at it in a shower stall. Zach assumes it's the fourth installation of Delivery Men.

Zach also assumes he's going to have to consume a little more alcohol before the main feature starts. He glances over at Chris to gauge his reaction; Chris is staring at the TV with his tongue rolling against the corner of his mouth.

Jesus christ, Zach muses, effectively draining his beer down to the top of the label.

"See, I don't get this," Chris says, as the preview swells and the Delivery Men theme song plays over a scene that has a twink getting rammed, hard, up against a corridor wall. Zach raises his eyebrows without meaning to, and tries to adjust himself as surreptitiously as possible. "I don't understand how that can feel good."

Zach shrugs and lays his palm across his own lap, trying to think about how dangerous of a situation this is he's just got himself into in a logistic way. He also tries to recount all of the degrees on the Kinsey scale, from the bottom up.

"You'd be surprised," He answers, ON DVD NOW glaring at him from the TV screen. In a rare moment of genuine curiosity, he asks, "You've never had a girl do a sneak attack?"

Another preview comes on-screen for some Japanese manga-porno adaptation -- Chris goes for the remote, because, if Zach knows him, and he does, he wants to get right to the good stuff.

"Never," He shrugs, watching Zach over his shoulder. "I didn't know it was common."

The corner of Zach's mouth twitches up into a grin as he recounts one of the many conversations he and Zoe had taken part of over mixed drinks and appetizers regarding sex, sexuality, sexual appetites, and sexual positions.

"Zoe told me she does it all the time," Zach grins, resting his cheek against the couch cushion to alternately watch the guys getting plowed on-screen, and Chris' reaction to it.

Chris laughs, a quick burst of noise that sounds genuinely surprised, and presses for the main title to play as he shakes his head and asks, "Surprising? Not really."

"I can't believe you've never even wondered..." Zach trails off, mind wandering as he affixes his gaze to a corner of the TV screen and imagines Chris' first time getting really worked over. His dick almost immediately twitches in his pants, and god, not a repeat viewing of last night.

Setting the remote down beside him and settling back into the cushions, Chris raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, beer still in one hand, over his chest. He looks over at Zach, and says, "I've clearly gained a newfound interest in the subject."

"Mid-midlife crisis," Zach comments, attention back on the TV. The whole thing opens on an open-stalled bathroom of a men's penitentiary, every single prisoner in some state of fucking or getting fucked.

Chris is decidedly silent upon the grand injection of typical gay-porn cinematography and soundtrack. Zach glances over and almost chokes on his beer when he realizes Chris is into it, eyes foggy-looking, even from across the couch, fingers curling and uncurling against where his hand rests beside the seam of his crotch.

"What does it feel like?" Chris asks after a second, as the camera pans and zooms in on one couple in particular, some guy with a buzz cut giving it hard to another younger looking, thinner, blond guy on his hands and knees, back bowed, head hung low between his elbows.

His eyes coast over to look at Zach. Zach makes the mistake of glancing down before he looks back at Chris' face, and that's the move that ends it all; the start of their particular love connection sizzling to a head right in front of them both.

God, Zach is rock hard in an instant with no hidden ammo to do anything about it with.

"Can't describe it," Zach replies, shifting his hips forward, trying to find some kind of position that will get his cock away from the inside seam of his pants. Zach is really not in the market for any kind of stimulation right now, one thing on his list of moments not to experience is coming in his pants right beside one of the people in his AT&T Top Five.

Chris glances back at the TV so Zach does as well. The two guys are still going at it, only now the younger guy is riding him hard, like, cowboy hard, palpable confirmation that Zach's argument was not only valid but completely right.

"Try to," Chris says, the hand that was curling and uncurling sliding over to rest palm down against his cock. Zach should have told him upon arrival that casual pants were not the most appropriate attire to wear to a porn-tasting event at one of your best friend's houses.

Pushing his knees towards the TV, Zach rests his head back against the couch and stares at the ceiling, feeling the inside of his torso heat up, serious pin-pricks of tension starting to eat away at his stomach, the most prominent curve in his shoulders.

"It's like someone has got you from the inside out," He says, background noise full of porno groans and 'fuck me harder, yeah, yeah, I love it when you fuck me harder, do it, do it.' Zach fights against it, and coasts his fingers over the zip in his pants. "They can't kiss you hard enough, suck you off fast enough, get in you deep enough... it's pretty intoxicating."

Chris is up and off of the couch in a hot second, and Zach, startled by the suddenness in a tick-tock of moments that had seemed slow as honey, jerks, eyes widening as he looks up at Chris standing over him.

"Are you -- " He starts, already prepared to go into an entire backlog of quietly arranged scenarios: okay, going to beat me up now, completely freaking out?

For all intents and purposes Zach drops his beer when he realizes Chris is only trying to get his pants off. Reeling back against the couch, Zach fumbles and tries to pick his bottle up from where the remaining few mouthfuls had been busy soaking into the front of his pants.

Making him look like he came already, which is just lovely.

"I get that you're probably morally opposed to this," Chris reasons with him, bending over at the waist to stare Zach in the face. Alternately, Zach tries to cover up not only his massive hard on, but equally jarring wet spot with one hand, fingers splayed. "But whether you actively participate or not, one of us is getting off right now." Chris brings one hand up, and wiggles his fingers around. "And if you don't, I will."

Zach drops his head and starts working on getting Chris' pants down. When he glances back up, Chris is watching the TV over his shoulder, chest starting to rise and fall a little faster, pulse speeding up, and god, Zach knows what that one feels like.

"You've really never -- " Zach breaks off to say, looking up at his jawline again. He's always been hard pressed to believe with a mouth and an ass like that, he had never at least wandered the line between Here and There.

Chris shakes his head and kicks his pants off, bowing forward to crawl into Zach's lap.

"How do I -- " He starts, trying to get his knees in a position that doesn't end up with Zach getting winded from blunt force trauma to the chest.

He makes a face when he contacts the wet spot soaked into Zach's pants.

"Beer," Zach explains, as Chris starts undoing the button-fly on his pants, stopping halfway down to trail a hand back and press, palm down, against Zach's dick. Zach's hips bounce up without him really meaning for them to, pelvic muscles twitching as Chris feels him over a couple of times and then goes back to his zipper.

Chris crawls off of him long enough for Zach to get rid of the wet pants and underwear, and, for one terrible, awkward moment, sit there with nothing but a threadbare t-shirt on his own couch, his constant companion for the last year standing above him.

When Chris suddenly drops to his knees, Zach's upstairs brain can't figure out why. On the other hand, his downstairs brain suddenly takes over and between Chris' hands on his thighs and the scene playing out over his shoulder, doesn't know what direction to run in.

"Tell me what I'm doing here," Chris says, eyes trained on Zach's dick in a way that has him half uncomfortable to be the lone recipient of such intense attention, and half boiling hot to be the lone recipient of such intense attention.

Zach, for once in his life, feels at a loss for words.

"What?" Zach asks, eyebrows knotting as he drops his head back against the couch and then snaps it back up, looking Chris in the face. Chris licks his bottom lip which doesn't help the situation any. "Just... use your mouth."

For a second it looks like Chris is going to give him attitude, but something snaps and clicks and Chris just smirks instead, one hand sliding up to wrap around Zach's dick as he adjusts his position on the floor, one leg folded under himself, elbow balanced against the edge of the couch.

Chris leans forward and lowers his mouth, dropping his shoulder to eye the TV still going behind him. It takes about five seconds for Zach to realize that Chris is mirroring the scene on the DVD, from the position of his hand to the slope in his back.

"Oh god," Zach murmurs to himself, dropping his head back against the couch, closing his eyes as Chris starts to use his tongue, his bottom lip. He licks his lips and opens his eyes, mouth hanging open as he pulls his head back up, watching Chris as he looks up at Zach and raises his eyebrows.

Chris pulls off of him with a swollen mouth and a chin covered in spit, obviously not the most seasoned cock sucker when it came to things like swallowing and not needing a bib, and shifts his legs around, going to stand up.

"You should show me," Chris says, out of breath already, pulling himself up by the cushion of Zach's couch. Zach raises his eyebrows and looks up as Chris rises above him, now fully hard in his underwear as he hooks his thumbs in the elastic and starts to pull them down.

Zach's gag reflex drops down to his toes as Chris rests one hand on his shoulder and licks his bottom lip again, bringing his other hand up to wipe his chin off.

"Is this how watching porn with you always ends?" Zach asks, meaning to sound sarcastic and genuinely witty. Instead his voice breaks halfway through the sentence and he can't even quickly round up a decent recovery plan.

Mouth open, Chris shakes his head, and reaches down, holding his dick out for Zach.

"Do it," He says, instead of answering. Zach stares him in the eyes a second longer before his gaze drops down, sliding past his chest and navel, the red flush starting to creep from his dick out.

Zach replaces Chris' hand with his own and reaches his other arm around, grabbing Chris by the small of the back and tugging him forwards. He goes for below Chris' belly first, moving his mouth along the muscle there, already twitching against his lips. Zach looks up with his mouth still on Chris' skin and exhales a laugh through his nose when he realizes Chris' head is tipped all the way back, strung down low and hung between his shoulder blades.

He wraps one hand around his own cock as he slides his mouth down Chris', breathing through his nose as he goes as far as he can and then pulls off, flattening his tongue against the head before going down again, big guns out as he suctions his mouth until he can feel his cheekbones hollowing out. Chris groans and brings one hand up to bite on, the other going to the top of Zach's head, winding his fingers through his hair.

Zach pulls Chris closer with both hands and sucks in time with the groaning on TV, using his hand where he can't get his mouth.

He doesn't pull away until Chris' stomach is flushed and red and his entire dick is coated with spit and precome. Inevitably it's a state of undress in which Zach never assumed he'd get to see Chris in.

"Turn around," Zach rasps, wiping the corner of his mouth like the polite gay man he is. Chris' fingers tighten in Zach's hair before he lets go, panting audibly. Zach peers around his side as he turns around and tries to focus on the TV: it's the best jail cell rimjob since SkateBoyz 2.

Chris sways a bit on his feet, leaning back into Zach's grip when Zach steadies him with both hands wrapped around his waist.

Leaning forward, Zach rests his chin against his hand, and looks up at Chris, a low profile as he tries to stand there breathing, lips still puffy, eyes shot already. Zach wonders if he's just going to implode when they get to the good stuff; he's never had a straight guy give him such good reaction.

"Human anatomy 101," Zach says into the skin over Chris' hip. Chris looks down at him, semi amused as he reaches around and palms the top of Zach's head. Zach trails his fingers down Chris' tailbone and grins. "Lucky for you, I'm an expert in this department."

Chris starts babbling the most obscure combinations of cuss words Zach has maybe ever heard the second he starts using his tongue. He feels Chris' arm jerk and imagines him chewing through his fist, starting with the first knuckle.

He reaches around and flattens his palm out against Chris' stomach, tugging him closer backwards as he flattens his tongue out and slides it against Chris' hole, all of his muscles tensing and relaxing at an alarming rate. Zach closes his eyes and tries to get deeper, hand trailing around to thumb at Chris' dick as the other inches up until it's by his mouth, sliding into where he was just tonguing, hot and wet and so unbelievably tight that Zach's caveman brain just wants to pull him backwards and make him sit on it.

Instead he finds himself buried face first, trying to work his fingers in.

Chris is squirming, body wound tight as he pants and Zach tastes the beginnings of sweat rolling off his back and onto his tongue. He rests his cheek against Chris' ass and works his finger in, twisting his wrist, other hand trailing down to give himself a couple of reassuring jerks. God he's so glad he got out of the pants.

Pulling Chris back by the waist, Zach works his mouth over Chris' tailbone, breathing hot against the damp skin already there, chin butting against the curve of his hand working in and out of Chris' ass. He rests his forehead against Chris' ass and, for all intents and purposes, sucks off his pointer and middle finger, using his tongue, the inside of his cheek to get them wet enough to slide into Chris' ass.

He reaches up and rests his hand flat against Chris' lower back as he starts working both fingers, twisting at the wrist to get as deep as possible, waiting until Chris' back is curving inwards to curl his fingers inside and bump him hard, sending Chris forward over the coffee table. He barely manages to catch himself against the edge, and knocks one of the beer bottles off in the process.

"Feel as good as it looks?" Zach breathes, getting his arm around Chris' middle and pulling him backwards until he's on Zach's lap, Zach's fingers still working in and out of his ass.

Chris squirms and grabs his dick every time Zach gets his fingers deep enough, hard enough, long enough. Zach breathes hard against Chris' neck and watches the TV screen, tries to time his fingers to the same of the character on-screen. He bows his head and sucks at Chris' neck, licking away the sweat as Chris groans and jerks up and down on top of Zach, taking his weight on both feet every time Zach pulls away just so he can drop it and get deeper when Zach pushes back in.

"I've never," Chris starts to say, turning his head, nape of his neck rolling against the curve of where Zach's collarbone meets his shoulder. Zach turns his head too and then they're kissing, which is funny in the grand scheme of things. Chris starts moaning again, one hand coming up to grab Zach around the back of the head, his foot kicking out to balance against the edge of the coffee table.

Zach kisses back like he means it, his dick bumping against Chris' ass and his own hand every time Chris comes down. Chris starts breathing harder into the kiss, trying to hold Zach's face still against his own, and then all of a sudden Zach realizes Chris is twitching everywhere, muscles jerking as he tries to get up and off of Zach's hand, his fingers tightening in Zach's hair as he almost bites through his lip and comes, body jerking and shaking all over the place.

"Jesus," Zach breathes, leaning his head back, bottom lip throbbing from the efforts of Chris' comeshot as Chris continues to jerk around on top of him, mouth dropped low and wet looking as he tries to get his bearings back.

Zach looks down, Chris' stomach flushed all the way down to his dick, still hard and looking like it's had no relief at all. Zach thinks that the come streaked across Chris' trembling stomach would tell a different story.

"Zach," Chris manages, flushed and panting as he pushes himself up to his feet and turns around, moving back to straddle Zach's lap. Zach rests both hands on the unbelievable shelf of Chris' ass, his thumbs coasting down either hip as Chris leans down and kisses him hard, breath still coming quick against Zach's cheek.

He turns his head away as Zach is going in for another one, so he gets the side of Chris' mouth instead, as Chris focuses his attention back on the porno still playing on the TV. As an afterthought, almost, Chris' dick jerks again against Zach's stomach.

"Condom," Chris murmurs, turning back to Zach's mouth, catching him another kiss. Zach moans against his tongue and pulls away, licking his bottom lip as he looks to the side, down the expanse of the kitchen.

He nods at the other end of the room, and says, "By my bed, in the drawer."

"I'm going to go get it," Chris tells him, already extending one leg down off of the couch as he kisses Zach deep and starts pulling away. "And then I'm going to come back," He continues, sliding his arm from where it had been extended along Zach's shoulder. Zach looks up at him, and palms his ribcage. "And then you're going to fuck me," Chris breathes, mouth hanging an inch away from Zach's. "Until I can't figure out which way is up. Deal?"

Zach nods and leans his head back, waiting until Chris smiles at him before he lets his hand drop away from Chris' stomach. He groans a little as Chris walks away, same caveman instinct to run, attack and pound as he sits forward and starts pulling his t-shirt up over his back, crossing his arms to tug it over his head.

He's trying not to jerk off at the sight of a twink getting it handed to him on screen when Chris comes back with a condom and the expensive lube that Zach usually only used on himself.

"You're dirtier than I thought you would be," Chris says, coming to sit on the edge of Zach's coffee table as he rips the condom open with his teeth and sets the lube down beside him.

Zach figures he's referencing the drawer he keeps his condoms in.

"You're crookeder," Zach says, breath hitching when he lets his fingers coast over a particularly sensitive spot on his dick. Chris doesn't fail to notice and grins as he leans forward and rolls the condom down, glancing back over his shoulder as he does so.

When he looks back at Zach, the flush has crept from his stomach and up his chest. Zach grabs the lube and jerks himself off with it a couple of strokes, reaching forward as Chris stands up from the coffee table. He wraps his arm around Chris' hip and slides his finger in, getting him as lubed up as he's going to be short of going down a slip and slide with no pants on.

Chris' hips jerk forward as Zach gets his fingers in, tugging Chris' body forward until Zach is mouthing at his stomach. Chris licks his lips and reaches back, getting Zach by the wrist as he turns himself around and starts to lower down into Zach's lap.

For lack of anything better to do, Zach holds his dick and bites his bottom lip, which is now swelling quite nicely, as Chris lowers himself down, thighs shaking, groaning low in his throat as he does it. Zach's mind has been trying to play catch-up since this whole deal started, but it's right around this second, where he watches his own cock disappearing up his good friend's ass, that it completely short circuits and leaves him stranded destination nowhere, population: Zach.

Chris bucks up when he's already halfway down Zach's dick, making all of these noises as he does it, hips rolling forward even when Zach tries to keep him steady. He breathes deep and leans forward, looking over Chris' shoulder, to where Chris is up on his tip-toes against the floor trying to lower himself down.

"I want you to remember this," Zach pants against the curve of Chris' shoulder, one of his hands coming around to palm Chris' stomach, jerking and trembling with the effort of keeping his weight up. Chris groans and drops his head back against Zach, eyes rolling back in his head as Zach pumps his hips up and promptly bottoms out. Something sizzles so hot in the back of Zach's head that half of his brain goes out and he spirals into dangerous, sex-drunk territory.

He holds Chris' waist as he pulls out and fucks in again, knees bumping against the outside of Chris'. He pushes himself up against the back of the couch so he can speak directly into Chris' ear. "If anyone else ever does this to you, this is what you'll think of first. Me," He gasps, and his hips jerk up involuntarily, into the warmth of Chris' ass. Zach rolls his forehead between Chris' shoulder blades, and says, "And you."

A few slow, dizzying pumps is all it takes for Zach to lose his patience and lean forward, pushing Chris off of his dick and onto the floor.

"Use this to brace yourself," He pants, holding himself at the base of his dick as he shuffles over on both knees and lines himself up. Chris is bent over the coffee table at his waist, elbows knocking the DVD case and remotes off, onto the floor.

Zach uses Chris' hips as leverage as he pushes back into him, the muscles deep in his back knotting as he leans forward and bumps his forehead between Chris' shoulders, resting it there to open his eyes and look down. He watches every movement: every thrust, every jerk, every time Chris groans and pushes back onto him.

He reaches around and starts to jerk Chris off fast and dirty, panting hard into the back of his head as Chris tries to keep traction against the coffee table, his entire torso expanding and contracting every time he tries to breathe.

Chris comes the moment the twink on-screen gets knocked forward onto his hands and knees and starts getting rimmed by a drill sergeant or something. Zach pants into the crown of Chris' head and tries to push through Chris' jerking, Chris' tightening and releasing. Chris comes hard, aneurysm hard, the kind where he shakes all over and tries to pull away even while trying to keep Zach closer.

His clamps down on his jaw so hard, he actually loses hearing for a moment.

Zach presses his thumbs into the small of Chris' back and wraps his fingers around the sides of his hips as he double-times his effort, and fucks until the coffee table is literally walking across the floor, Chris' palms squeaking across the lacquered finish with every thrust.

Hazed out, Zach grabs Chris by the hips as he pumps into him once more and splinters, cracking so cleanly down the middle that his grip tightens until he actually gets pulled backwards and onto Zach's dick so he can ride it out.

Chris stares blearily at the wall still moving up and down in front of him, and ragdolls backwards against Zach's chest, heaving. Chris can feel his own heart thudding out of his chest, and Zach's doing the same up against his shoulder blade. He smoothes a hand down over his own stomach, eye twitching when he catches a nerve, and tilts his head back against Zach's shoulder.

"Okay," Zach says, mainly to himself, leaning forward to wipe his forehead off on Chris' shoulder as he rolls them both back, one hand coming out to steady the both of them against the coffee table.

Chris rolls his tongue against the inside of his molars to make sure he hasn't chipped any.

Still breathing hard, stomach streaked red and hot-looking all the way down to his dick, Zach reaches for the television remote, and unceremoniously turns the porno off.

Neither of them seem to know what to do for a moment, until Chris reaches forwards and pulls Zach forward by the back of the skull, leaning in to kiss him.

Zach obliges.


The next morning Zach wakes up expecting morning wood and, at some point, an uncomfortable encounter with a person who up until that moment had merely been a platonic friend. Instead, Zach comes to realize that it wasn't a very bad wet dream, there is in fact an open DVD case on his living room floor, and Chris is undeniably sleeping right beside him, eyes closed, mouth dropped wide open.

Zach reaches over and plugs Chris' nose until he wakes up swinging.

"Morning," He greets, cheek resting in his pillow. Chris seems to go through the same process that brought Zach up to Right Now a few moments ago, complete with a stoic glance around the room. After a second he rubs a hand over his face, bleary and tired, and stretches out across the bed.

Chris makes a noise to go along with his stretch and then, yawning into his hand again, tells Zach, "You owe me about a gallon of coffee right now."

Grinning into his pillowcase, Zach reaches his leg across to kick Chris in the shin.

"I don't know, that's a pretty steep demand," He sighs, but rolls out of bed the second the sentence is off of his lips, anyway.