Log in

No account? Create an account
Yes, yes, I'm terrible about posting entries. It's not that I don't like writing about myself--everyone does, you know you do, just admit it, okay? It's that I spend too much time doing other things on the computer. NO, NOT INAPPROPRIATE ~THINGS. Well, not usually. Mostly things like reading through ontd_startrek and practically giving myself tendonitis from scrolling so much, to the point that I can't possibly place my hands on a keyboard for any longer. I have friends, really! And a job! I swear!

So, here's what's been going on in my life.

My brother's commitment ceremony is coming up. It's sort of like a wedding, except it's not. Yes, he's straight, yes, there will be rings, and formal attire, and cake. I could link to their website explaining the whole thing, but the people who actually know me have heard it all before, and I don't think the rest of you need to know. Or care. Does anyone read this? Probably not. This is mostly for my benefit so that I can healthfully assess my inner trials and tribbles. Err--tribulations. *cough*toomuchstartrek*cough*

Yeah, I'm really excited for the ceremony. Not only because I get to spend a week of bliss in a cabin (with WiFi) right on the beach in Cape Cod. It's going to be beautiful, and I have an adorable Vogue straw hat to match my slightly 1950's style navy blue bathingsuit. Damn, am I going to look adorable, or what? Too bad I'll never be able to get a tan. I have to restrain myself from getting horribly burned before the ceremony--it will not look nice with my dress.

Okay, I'm distracted now, so I'm going to finish this later. For reals. No, really! 

I wrote a story...

SOOO I normally don't write very much beyond school essays and the occasional self-serving journal entry. Well, REALLY occasional. But, since seeing Star Trek, my life has been consumed by an obsession with these two beautiful young actors. And, with encouragement from my friend, I decided to attempt writing a fic. My second fic in like, the history of ever. Here goes, I'm not promising anything epic. I wrote it in a couple hours and it hasn't been edited. I actually don't really know if I'm even posting this correctly, haha, so don't hate me if I screw up the links. 

Title: Why Zachary is an Idiot Sometimes
Fandom: Star Trek XI RPS
Pairing: Zach/Chris
Rating: PG
Author's Note: This hasn't been beta'd. 
Summary: Zach tries to repress his love for Chris by reading self-help books and telling himself that friendship is really all that he needs. Chris shows him why he's being an idiot. 
Disclaimer: None of this actually happened. Well, we assume. 

If asked seriously, Zach would be hard put to name the moment when he had fallen in love with Chris. And he wouldn’t be asked, because no one was going to find out about his little obsession. It was his problem, it was private, and nobody needed to find out. Zach was well equipped to suffer in silence. Well, okay, so the first and last part weren’t really true.




Zach had always been the type of guy who liked to psychoanalyze himself. He was an anxious person. He juggled friends, a career, two pets, an attempted healthy lifestyle, and an increasingly depressing lack of a love life in general. Trying to keep all of these things in balance was difficult, and the pressure built up on him occasionally. He knew what triggered his anxiety: trying to develop his character for a role, not having the time to relax, being forced to spend time with people that made him uncomfortable, which included Chris. So, yeah, he was anxious.


He was also a little vain, pedantic, and obsessive-compulsive, but let’s not get into that. Zach’s main vice of late involved self-help books. He knew they were stupid, and he knew that, as someone who threw around fancy words like “aplomb,” and “zeitgeist,” he was above them. Lately, though, after he’d met Chris and been surrounded by the man’s astounding charisma, Zach admitted that maybe he needed to look deeper into himself than was normally required. So, he began reading books with titles like “Why You Should Love Yourself First,” and “How to Land Your Dream Guy,” and “50 Reasons Why It’s Not Okay to Lust After Your Best Friend”. Well, okay, the last one wasn’t a real book. It should be, though.


Unsurprisingly, the books didn’t help much. Zach thought it was completely ridiculous that they should have even been sold under the guise of self-help because, clearly, such a thing did not exist. And Zach had nearly been caught many times whilst trying to fool the cast into thinking he was reviewing his lines while kind-of-really reading his self-help books, which were wedged between the pages of said script. Once Chris himself had nearly caught him, which would have been a disaster and a half had it happened, to say the least.


Yeah, okay, so Zach knew exactly when he’d fallen in love. It was the dumbest thing, really, because he usually prided himself in choosing partners based on some overwhelmingly impressive character trait like an amazing sense of humor, or great taste in media, or a passion for politics. Or at least, that’s how he normally ‘picked’ his partners. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever been in love.


Chris had all of those things, and more, but the thing that made Zach’s palms sweat every time he saw Chris was so insignificant and difficult to describe that it had taken him a long time before he even realized what it was.


Zach supposed the moment had occurred on the day they started filming Kirk’s make-out scene with the Jolly Green Giant’s little sister—err, Gaila. Chris had just come back to the shared on-set dressing room and was in his tighty-whities, covered head to toe in smudges of green paint.


Zach had been patiently prepping to get into makeup when…oh. Chris had walked in.


His palms had started to sweat; in a clammy way, too. Zach had poor circulation in his hands and feet. It was not at all attractive.


“Heya, Buddy. How are you doing? Man, this shit is nasty. This is Hollywood, why can’t they make some green body paint that doesn’t rub off on everyone else you have to touch?” Said Chris, wrinkling his nose and scratching at a stubborn patch of paint on his right forearm.


“Uhhgh,” was Zach’s eloquent reply, as he tried to stop his eyes from settling on the tantalizing strip of hair on Chris’ lower abdomen.  He caught himself just in time, replying, “They probably don’t want the actors to, uhm, suffocate. I’ve heard that it’s possible to suffocate if your skin is completely covered. I think it was on Mythbusters once, actually. You know, that one where they covered Jamie head to toe in gold body paint? His blood pressure got higher and everything. So maybe that green paint is the non-suffocation kind, therefore not as permanent…” he trailed off. Zach had a tendency to ramble when he got really nervous. Usually he was so much smoother than this.


Chris had stopped scratching at his arm and was staring at Zach, mouth slightly ajar. “Okay…right. Are you doing okay, Buddy? You seem a little tense. Are you thinking about that scene on the bridge? I know Simon makes you laugh during your line almost every time, but really, JJ doesn’t mind. He gives you shit about it but only because he doesn’t want the fame to go to your head. I’m sure you’ll nail it when we start running takes.”


“Oh no, I’ve just been over-indulging a little on caffeine. I stayed up reading last night and didn’t go to sleep when I should have.” said Zach. Shit. He shouldn’t have started rambling so much. He quickly resumed his preparations and tried to ignore Chris, who proceeded to wash green paint off his hands in the little sink.


That was when the moment happened. It was all due to some stupid architect, the one whom the studio had hired to design their goddamn bathroom. The jackass had installed sinks that were way too small, the kind with the faucets that didn’t stick out far enough into the middle of the sink so that you practically had to dislocate your wrists in order to wash your hands. Chris was trying frantically (and unsuccessfully) to stick his forearms under said faucet to rid them of the green paint. He had his right knee propped up against the laminate countertop and was balancing on one leg, his tongue held ridiculously between his teeth while he screwed up his eyebrows in concentration. Zach just stood there and stared, and stared, and stared.


It wasn’t his sense of humor, or his love of music, or the wrinkled, striped polo shirts he wore that showed just a little too much chest hair. It was that small moment; Chris, in his stupid, pre-pubescent undergarments, washing green paint off of his arms in the dressing room sink. He was so beautiful, and never self-conscious. He was comfortable enough with himself to be watched even in the most awkward of situations, and Zach felt lucky to be the one allowed to watch him.


So, fast-forward to several months later, and Zach and Chris had become the best of friends. They’d go out running together, hang out at all the trendy clubs, and stay in watching old episodes of Star Trek, the original series of course. They were inseparable, and Zach had almost come to feel comfortable with his role in this ‘bromance’. His role as the best friend; the wingman, the confidante. Well, almost.


Zach would be fine during filming. The guys would all have laughs together; Anton, trying to convince everyone to take him seriously in his young age; Karl, whose every other word had four letters; Simon, with his outlandish statements. It was a good time. Zach felt like part of a family, and that was more important than his stupid little crush.


Still, sometimes they’d all be laughing and joking, and Chris would turn to him, wearing that grin that was so huge that it almost hid the blue of his eyes. Zach’s heart would palpitate a little and he’d forget momentarily why he was laughing; he smiled just because some of Chris’ laughter was directed at him.


And the touching. Oh, the touching. After filming ended they’d be at interviews, just the two of them, answering questions. Chris would lean casually against Zach’s shoulder, or sometimes their whole torsos would be aligned. Chris had a tendency to gesticulate wildly when he got excited about something, and he’d sometimes brush Zach with his flailing arms. Zach couldn’t help but relax into Chris’ warm body. He blamed this inclination on the fact that he was tired; fatigue had to be the reason Chris was always leaning against him, after all.


It wasn’t just that, though. Chris was a very grabby kind of person. He was the kind of guy who just came up behind you and fixed your shirt tag if it was sticking out. He was the kind of guy who would pull a piece of string off your person, anywhere on your person, and it made Zach nervous as hell. He had constant anxiety over the thought that Chris might someday hear his breath hitch whenever he was touched unexpectedly in that way. It was just downright unfair.


And the words. That was another thing. Somewhere along the line Chris had noticed Zach’s love of multi-syllabic English words, and decided to make a competition of it. He’d casually slip in words like “sacrosanct,” and Zach would practically lose it. He’d then have to take the bait and engage Chris in a veritable word showdown. It sort of turned into their “thing” after that. Zach didn’t even mind that Chris probably cheated sometimes by checking Thesaurus.com on his iPhone while getting his makeup done, because it was so damned endearing to see him trying so hard to win. And Chris already knew half of the crazy words that Zach used, despite his claim that he was less educated than Zach. Zach had been pleasantly surprised that Chris also had a love of literature and could best him at Scrabble, half the time. He was so much like Kirk in that way, calculated intelligence sometimes hidden by good looks and infectious charisma.


If only Zach wasn’t 98.9% sure that Chris was straight. The guy had beautiful girls surrounding him all the time. He was just so approachable. He was loud, but not obnoxiously so. He made small talk to fill lapses in conversation, but the things he said were always insightful or hilarious. He swore, but only when no other words would serve to describe the sensations he was feeling. He was passionate, yet kind, and he always saw the good in people. Zach, who had a tendency to see the weird in people before digging deeper, admired this quality so much in Chris.


Inevitably, all the confusing and amazing things Zach was feeling for Chris had to come out. Inevitably, they came out with a little nudge from some alcohol, at a club on the last night of filming.


Chris, as usual, was tearing it up on the dance floor. He looked pretty stupid sometimes, biting his upper lip and shaking his head around like an idiot, in the blue flannel shirt that was his favorite. He’d had a couple of drinks; just enough to make it seem like his brain was moving a little slower than his vision. Zach was nursing a drink at the bar; one of those fruity things that came with umbrellas. He liked the umbrellas.


Suddenly, Chris appeared at his side. “Hey man, you’ve gotta come out on the dance floor! I know you’re sitting here because you’re afraid everyone’s going to laugh at how you dance like a 16-year-old indie kid. I know you were that kid in high school. We’re all grown-ups now, though, and it’s the last night of shooting.”


Zach rolled his yes. “Who says I was ‘that’ kid?” I was very cool, I’ll have you know. Very debonair. All the chicks wanted me.” He sniped, a little bitter.


It was Chris’ turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Too bad you didn’t want them back.” Zach opened his mouth to protest that just because he wasn’t interested in dating girls didn’t mean that their interest in him didn’t give him street credit, when Chris grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Zach forgot all about how many negatives he had just used in that sentence and instead looked down at their clasped hands. Chris’ was warm and a little sweaty and Zach’s was cold and clammy from holding onto his fruity drink. This was a bad sign.


“Come on, indie boy,” said Chris, and pulled Zach onto the dance floor.


They made their way to the center of the dance floor. It was one of those floors that was made up of flashing cubes of different colored plastic, something Zach thought was pretty trashy looking. He thought the music was kind of trashy, too, but he wasn’t going to pass up a chance to be this close to Chris, not when he wasn’t certain how many more chances he would get.


Chris dropped his hand and proceeded to wave his arms around above his head, shouting lyrics he didn’t quite know along with the music. Zach bopped his head to the beat and tried to get into it, making an effort to look much groovier than he felt. The song went on for about forty-five more seconds before it abruptly changed to something slower. Zach realized it was some lame Enya remix and turned to leave the dance floor, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Chris, looking at him expectantly. He licked his lips.


“Hey, where are you going?” he said


“I think I’m going to sit this one out. I mean, I’d ruin my reputation by dancing to Enya.” Zach said, faking a smile.


“Pfft, what reputation? You’re a huge nerd. I bet you have this album somewhere on your iTunes.” goaded Chris.


Zach rolled his eyes, not really in the mood for any teasing, when suddenly Chris moved closer. He moved so close that all Zach could see were his big, blue eyes and scruffy chin, and suddenly that chin was on his shoulder and Chris’ arms were around his waist. Zach could barely breathe, unable to do anything except bring his arms up gently to rest on Chris’ shoulders and sway slightly with the music.


He was quickly engulfed by Chris’ scent. It was a cross between the musky smell of sweat and club air, undercut by whatever soap Chris used. Zach had a feeling it was one of those really common soaps like Dove or Dial; something everyone recognized but couldn’t really place. He’d probably been buying the same soap all his life because it was what his mother used to put in the shower when he was a kid. It made Zach’s breath catch in his throat.


Suddenly, it was all too much. Zach pulled roughly away and turned towards the exit.


“Zach!” yelled Chris, following at his heels as Zach parted the crowd in his haste and ran out onto the sidewalk.


Chris ran out of the double doors and past the bouncer but didn’t see Zach. He looked left and right before he finally spotted him leaning against a bike rack with his hands in his hair. He looked up through his eyelashes at Chris as he slowly approached.


“What’s up, man? Why did you run out of there?” asked Chris.


“I just needed some fresh air. I was just over-stimulated by the club atmosphere, I guess.” Zach said, clearly lying through his teeth.


“I’ve had three more drinks than you and even I can tell that you’re not telling me the truth. Come on, you’re my best friend, you can tell me when something is bothering you.” Chris said, sitting down next to Zach and placing his hand gently on the other man’s shoulder.


“No, I can’t!” Zach yelled, jerking away from Chris’ hand and standing up in front of him.

“I can’t talk to you about this! You’re the worst possible person I COULD talk to about this! This is an absurd situation and you’re only making it worse. Please, just go back inside and leave me alone.”


Chris looked a little hurt but stayed seated. He looked up at Zach, then down at the ground. “Look, whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. Anything that’s bothering you, I can handle. We’re friends. You mean too much to me for me to just let you suffer in silence.” He stood up then, walking towards Zach, who had put his hands on his face and was firmly keeping them there.


Chris came closer, gently prying Zach’s hands down and holding them between his own. Zach tried to pull them out of his grasp.


“Okay, seriously, do you have a problem with me touching you like this? I’m just trying to help you, but if you don’t want me to then I’ll stop.” Said Chris, in a quiet voice.


Zach breathed a shaky sigh before looking up from his shoes and meeting Chris’ eyes.

“It’s not that. It’s not that I don’t want you to touch me, I just don’t think I can take it anymore.”


“What do you mean?” said Chris, his mouth turning up at the corner but his eyes staying serious.


“I mean,” said Zach, “that you’re driving me crazy. The touching, and now the dancing! It was fine for a while, and I thought I could handle it, but you’re going to have to stop. I have to distance myself from you. Otherwise, I’ll go insane. I don’t want to, but I’m too much in love with you to let it go on any longer.” He stopped abruptly, cheeks flushing. He looked back down at his shoes.


Zach waited a few seconds before looking cautiously up at Chris, who, surprisingly, was grinning.


“God, Zach, for somebody who is so intelligent, you’re one hell of an idiot.” Said Chris, shaking his head and still smiling.


Zach frowned slightly and stepped backwards, but Chris caught him by the shoulders.

“No, wait! I didn’t mean that you’re stupid for loving me! I meant that you’re an idiot because you haven’t seen that I love you, too. I’ve been trying to show you since  forever.” Said Chris.


“But you’re straight! And what do you mean, trying to show me?” said Zach, still thinking Chris was playing some kind of joke on him.


“Well, I got to know you, tried to figure out what makes you tick. I’ve improved my vocabulary by at least thirty-five percent since I met you…did you think I was just doing it to tease you? And I tried to pay you special attention. I could’ve just watched Star Trek episodes by myself, you know. It probably would’ve served me well, not having you there to distract me.” finished Chris. Zach just stood there, slightly paralyzed.


Chris stepped closer, cupping Zach’s stubbly face in his hands. “Look,” he began earnestly, “I thought I was straight until I met you. I was so confused in the beginning, thinking that it was wrong of me to have all these feelings for someone who was supposed to be my best friend. That’s why I never really did anything concrete until tonight. I thought I was just amazed by what an incredible person you are, not that I was having romantic feelings towards you.” Said Chris, softly stroking Zach’s face.


“And then, one day, I looked over your shoulder while you were reading your script, only to discover that you were hiding some kind of book behind it while pretending to read your lines.”


“Oh, Jesus.” Said Zach, blushing.


“No.” said Chris, shaking his head. “I thought it was the cutest damn thing I’d ever seen.  I realized that the giddiness I felt wasn’t just friendly affection. I just took a chance tonight; I had to know if you felt anything between us.” Chris finished.


“I really am an idiot. I should’ve talked to you instead of trying to hide everything I was feeling.” Said Zach.


“Yeah.” Said Chris, before gently bringing his lips up to meet Zach’s. Zach froze for a second, then parted his lips and kissed Chris back, bringing his hands up to Chris’ shoulders and holding on tightly as he deepened the kiss. Zach was engulfed by the scent of sweat, and of the club, and of Chris’ stupid soap, and he felt his anxiety melt away. After a few moments, they pulled away.


“What book were you reading behind your script, anyway?” asked Chris, a curious smile forming on his face.


“I’ll never tell. You’ll think me even more of an idiot than you already do.” Zach answered, wondering when his embarrassment would end.


“Yeah, but you’re my idiot.” replied Chris.




The End.

Valentine's Day Weekend

Well, it wasn't horrible. I didn't cry. I didn't gain ten or so pounds of chocolate-induced fat. Overall, I had a pretty good time.

I went home Friday night to do my laundry. I mean, uh, to see my parents. Yeah. I finished the three weeks' worth of clothing and made a sculpture for my dad for his birthday. It came out fairly well, so I'm comfortable with Friday's level of productivity.

I had to work Saturday morning, so I missed out on seeing my Brother and Sister until mid-afternoon. I had to miss out on dinner as well because it wasn't finished by the time the ballroom lesson rolled around. I was planning on missing the lesson and just going to the dance for fear of being an annoying third wheel, but then something changed. Susan, one of my best friends and the future mother of my children, invited her super nice, funny, and adorable guy friend to come dancing with us. Let's call him 'The Italian'. So, of course, I dropped all plans of dinner with the family and went to the waltz lesson instead. I don't think they're offended, but I did miss out on some pretty good food.

The lesson went really well, with Susan, Emma and I taking the intermediate while the guys took the beginner lesson. I got to know The Italian a bit better while I taught him the basic steps to different kinds of ballroom dancing. He was a fast learner and said that he wanted to come back again in the future. I really hope he stays good on his word--I think he will. He seems like a decent, genuine, and caring person. I thought we had a bit of chemistry, but I don't know what he's feeling on his end. I'm sure he has plenty of funny and attractive friends, but maybe he wouldn't mind getting to know me better. I think our close proximity while dancing together helped me overcome any anxiety I was having. I think I even made him laugh a few times, too. We'll see how it goes.

Anyway, to top it all off, I got onto the Ballroom Dance Team! And I wasn't the only one who was accepted--Susan and Matt both got on, too! I don't even think our odds were that great, since about 30 people tried out and the team members said they weren't accepting that many new people. I'm so excited! Practices start on Wednesday and happen three times per week. This, coupled with two days at the gym should help me regain some of the muscle I lost when I stopped doing ballet. I want to feel strong and to have more energy.

This semester is finally beginning to take a turn for the better.


Zachary Quinto

Latest Month

July 2009


RSS Atom
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow