1297 - 3 Ficlets pinto渣翻译
Write it Down and I'll Scratch it Out
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: PG-13
For: bentley
Prompt: So many things — "it all comes back to me now"— remember when we were high on peyote on Montgomery & Broadway corner near Bookstore, standing by a lampost and you were laughing when we looked into each others eyes and I got scared of your laugh— I couldn't tell who I was or you were, we seemed like empty toys to me & your laugh signified that. (Alan Ginsberg.)
He draws lines for himself, builds walls, fences himself in until he can't move, until he's too scared to even take a breath in case it all falls down.
Chris doesn't walk the line, never will. He breaks everything touches, like a proverbial bull in Zach's carefully arranged china shop. And he does it with a laugh and a tilt of the head, like he enjoys watching Zach trying to hold everything together, trying to compose himself with a smile and a hand to his chest.
He probably does.
*
He's never been so scared of a smile, of skin creasing around too-blue eyes. It makes his heart stutter like a broken radio, flitting back and forth between stay and run.
So he does the latter because he wants to put as much distance between Chris and those restless hands of his. He'll destroy them both.
But Chris follows.
So Zach stops under the white shadow of a streetlamp and turns to him as a man might face his killer; one last moment of bravado before he's forced to give in.
Chris presses a hand to his face; thumb sweeping across Zach's cheek like this could be more than just drunken curiosity. And it's so light – tender – Zach has to remind himself not to be fooled; Chris could slay him with less if he tried.
They kiss and Chris fists his hands in the lapels of Zach's jacket like he's the one holding on for dear life, his mouth hot and open and vulnerable. Then everything falls apart around them, like sandcastles in the wind, until it's just them. And suddenly, Zach feels free, the future like the wide, black sky over their heads: clear and unending.
And for the first time in a long time, he breathes.
Tender is the Night
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: PG-13
For: brutalsong
Prompt: when you leave, i ain't comin' - maps - when you leave ...or something with a breakup.
The end is much like the start: quiet, polite, reasonable.
They don't talk about it. There's no dramatic break-up scene with glass breaking and doors slamming and crying on the kitchen floor.
They stop filming and the press tour winds down to nothing and then there's no reason to see each other.
It makes sense, he supposes. There were no promises, no vows, no plans. Just a string of nights where his curiosity had met Zach's loneliness in some sort of gentlemen's agreement, him on his knees and Zach holding him like he could need him, if he let himself. And when it was said and done, there was nothing left to be curious about, nothing to miss. Because they have their lives back now; he can go back to those aimless Wednesday afternoons drinking coffee and Zach can finally finish that book he was distracted from.
And perhaps that's all it ever was, a distraction. Something to do when they were too tired to speak. A moment of familiarity – comfort – in a series of hotel rooms that eventually all feel the same. (Because it doesn’t matter the thread count, you’re still sleeping in other people’s sheets.)
He thinks about him sometimes, when he's in bed, bone-tired and restless from another night of pretending to be someone else. He reaches a hand out in the dark, hoping to find skin and heat and relief. But there's nothing, just a too-big bed and an endless, tender night.
And he let's himself wonder, just for a moment, if it’s better to burn out than to fade away.
All I Need are Cigarettes and Alcohol
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: R (sexually explicit situations)
For: ewinfic
Prompt: Response to Super Sex by Morphine.
He only smokes when he's with Zach.
It's like foreplay. They could have a cigarette each but they share, passing it back and forth, fingers touching as they do, the wet filter like a kiss they hide from the rest of the world.
'It's my only vice,' Zach likes to say with a slow smile, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey.
Then Chris laughs and passes him the cigarette, their knuckles grazing as he takes the glass, draining it while Zach reaches for the bottle.
'You're incorrigible,' he likes to say when Zach refills it. This time he spills whiskey on his hand and Chris knows that Zach doesn’t do anything without thinking about it first.
So he licks his hand and Zach smiles. 'What does that taste like?'
Then comes the kiss. Long and deep and smoky warm.
And finally Chris gets to touch his hair, to feel the wool of his jacket beneath his fingers as he tugs it over his shoulders. And he doesn't know how he did it, how he managed an entire evening without touching him, kissing him, licking the stubborn line of his jaw.
Zach's teeth leave red lines down his neck, his chest. Marks that disappear like love letters written in invisible ink as he peels through the layers of pinstripe and cotton to find the skin beneath.
Then Chris, blind with need, pulls his hair and reclaims his mouth, kissing him as though he's giving Zach his last breath.
After that, it's just a feral mess of hands and fingers and biting, whiskey kisses. Zach holds him down, even though he isn't going anywhere, and kisses Chris' neck like he's branding him, tattooing his name across his chest with his tongue. When he gets to Chris' stomach, he stops, licking a long line across it, as though he's marking a point of no return.
There's a moment of silence when it's just breathing and the sound of Chris' blood screaming in his ears. Then Zach presses a kiss to the line, and crosses it.
END
写下来,我会刮的
配对: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
级别: PG-13
For: bentley
提示: 很多事情--"这一切都回到我身边"--记得当我们只有仙人掌那么高,在Montgomery和Broadway街角的书店附近,站在灯柱边,当我们看着对方的眼睛,你在笑,我被你的笑声吓着了--我不能告诉你或我是谁,在我看来,我们就像是空了的玩具.你的笑预示了这.(Alan Ginsberg.)
他为自己划下界限,树立高墙,禁锢自己直到不能动弹,直到他太害怕以至于不敢呼吸,生怕那围墙倒下.
Chris没有越过线,永远不会.他打破了一切接触,就像一头俗话所说的公牛在Zach小心翼翼布置的瓷器店里横冲直撞.他这么做了,仅仅笑了下,歪一歪头,就像他喜欢看着Zach试着抓住一切,试着用微笑和胸口上的手令他镇定下来.
他大概做到了.
*
他从来没有这么害怕过一个微笑,那么蓝的双眼周围的皮肤.这让他的心跳得像一个故障的收音机,在"暂停"和"播放"之间跳来跳去.
他选了后者,因为他想在Chris和那些不安分的手之间拉开距离.他会把他们都摧毁.
但是Chris跟上去了.
所以Zach在街灯的白色影子下停住了,转身面对他就像一个人面对取自己命的人;在他背叛放弃之前虚张声势的一刻.
Chris把一只手按上他的脸;拇指轻轻拂过Zach的面颊就好像这不过是一个醉酒之人的好奇心罢了.那是如此轻柔--温柔--Zach提醒自己别蠢了;Chris可以轻松地结果了他只不过没试着这么做而已.
他们接吻,Chris的手在Zach的外套翻领上攥成拳头,就好像那是他唯一的生命,他的嘴好热,敞开,而且脆弱.然后周围的一切都分崩离析,就像风中的沙煲,一直到只剩下他们.突然地,Zach感到了自由,未来像宽广的,黑色的天空盘旋之上:清晰且永无止境.
那么久以来的第一次,他呼出一口气,感觉自己还活着.
夜未央
配对: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
级别: PG-13
For: brutalsong
提示: when you leave, i ain't comin' - maps - when you leave ...or something with a breakup.
结束就和开始一样:安静,彬彬有礼,合理地.
他们不谈这个.没有什么戏剧性的分手场面,像摔杯子啦摔门啦还有倒在厨房地板上哭泣啦.
他们之间突然停止了,什么也没了,而且好像没什么理由再见面.
这说得通,他假设.没有承诺,没有誓言,没有计划.只是连着几个晚上,他的好奇心撞上了Zach的孤寂,某种君子协定,他跪着,Zach抱着他好像他需要他,如果放纵自己的话.当说完做完之后,没什么可以好奇的,没什么可以怀念的.因为他们有自己的生活,现在他可以回去那些漫无目的的周三下午喝咖啡,而Zach终于可以看完那本被他打断了的书.
也许这就是那什么,玩乐罢了.一些他们累到不想说话是要做的东西.片刻的熟悉-舒适-在一连串的酒店房间里,最后感觉起来都差不多.(那和里程数无关,你还是睡在别人的床单上.)
他有时候会想想他,当他躺在床上,累到骨子里,带着装作是另一个人的又一个夜晚的疲惫和不安.他在黑暗中伸出一只手,希望能找到皮肤,热量,和安心.但什么也没有,只有一张过大的床和无尽的,温柔的夜晚.
他让意识游离,只是片刻,如果这比化为灰烬或消逝好些.
我只需要烟和酒精
配对: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
级别: R (sexually explicit situations)
For: ewinfic
提示: Response to Super Sex by Morphine.
他只在和Zach一起的时候才吸烟.
就像前戏.他们可以各抽一只但还是分着抽了,互相递来递去,手指相触,湿湿的滤嘴像一个躲过世界的吻.
"这是我最后一支."Zach说着,慢悠悠地笑了,咽下一口威士忌.
Chris大笑,把烟递给他,当他拿着玻璃瓶的时候他们的膝盖相触,Zach喝光了酒.
"你真是屡教不改."当Zach续杯的时候他说.这次他把酒洒在手上,而Chris知道Zach不会想也不想一下就做些什么.
所以他舔舔他的手,Zach笑了."味道如何?"
然后就是吻.长长的,深入地,像烟一样温暖.
终于,Chris摸上他的头发,手指爬上肩膀,将他拖近,划过夹克上的羊毛.他不知道他是怎么做到的,打算就这样一晚上而不碰他,吻他,舔他的下巴.
Zach在他脖子和胸膛上留下红痕.这些记号会像用隐形墨水书写的情书一样消退,在他剥开层层衣物,抚上之下的皮肤.
Chris,看不见,带着欲求,拉着头发堵上他的嘴,吻他就好像渡给Zach最后一口气.
之后,就只是一些乱七八糟的手,手指,咬,带着威士忌味儿的吻.Zach摁着他,即使他哪儿也去不了,吻他的脖子就好像在给他上标签,用他的舌头给他的胸前纹上自己的名字.当他达到Chris的腹部,他停下,沿着一条长线舔过去,仿佛标记一条不归路.
有那么一瞬间的寂静,只有喘息声和血液奔流的声音穿过Chris的耳朵.然后Zach在那条线上印下一吻,然后越过线,向下.
END
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: PG-13
For: bentley
Prompt: So many things — "it all comes back to me now"— remember when we were high on peyote on Montgomery & Broadway corner near Bookstore, standing by a lampost and you were laughing when we looked into each others eyes and I got scared of your laugh— I couldn't tell who I was or you were, we seemed like empty toys to me & your laugh signified that. (Alan Ginsberg.)
He draws lines for himself, builds walls, fences himself in until he can't move, until he's too scared to even take a breath in case it all falls down.
Chris doesn't walk the line, never will. He breaks everything touches, like a proverbial bull in Zach's carefully arranged china shop. And he does it with a laugh and a tilt of the head, like he enjoys watching Zach trying to hold everything together, trying to compose himself with a smile and a hand to his chest.
He probably does.
*
He's never been so scared of a smile, of skin creasing around too-blue eyes. It makes his heart stutter like a broken radio, flitting back and forth between stay and run.
So he does the latter because he wants to put as much distance between Chris and those restless hands of his. He'll destroy them both.
But Chris follows.
So Zach stops under the white shadow of a streetlamp and turns to him as a man might face his killer; one last moment of bravado before he's forced to give in.
Chris presses a hand to his face; thumb sweeping across Zach's cheek like this could be more than just drunken curiosity. And it's so light – tender – Zach has to remind himself not to be fooled; Chris could slay him with less if he tried.
They kiss and Chris fists his hands in the lapels of Zach's jacket like he's the one holding on for dear life, his mouth hot and open and vulnerable. Then everything falls apart around them, like sandcastles in the wind, until it's just them. And suddenly, Zach feels free, the future like the wide, black sky over their heads: clear and unending.
And for the first time in a long time, he breathes.
Tender is the Night
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: PG-13
For: brutalsong
Prompt: when you leave, i ain't comin' - maps - when you leave ...or something with a breakup.
The end is much like the start: quiet, polite, reasonable.
They don't talk about it. There's no dramatic break-up scene with glass breaking and doors slamming and crying on the kitchen floor.
They stop filming and the press tour winds down to nothing and then there's no reason to see each other.
It makes sense, he supposes. There were no promises, no vows, no plans. Just a string of nights where his curiosity had met Zach's loneliness in some sort of gentlemen's agreement, him on his knees and Zach holding him like he could need him, if he let himself. And when it was said and done, there was nothing left to be curious about, nothing to miss. Because they have their lives back now; he can go back to those aimless Wednesday afternoons drinking coffee and Zach can finally finish that book he was distracted from.
And perhaps that's all it ever was, a distraction. Something to do when they were too tired to speak. A moment of familiarity – comfort – in a series of hotel rooms that eventually all feel the same. (Because it doesn’t matter the thread count, you’re still sleeping in other people’s sheets.)
He thinks about him sometimes, when he's in bed, bone-tired and restless from another night of pretending to be someone else. He reaches a hand out in the dark, hoping to find skin and heat and relief. But there's nothing, just a too-big bed and an endless, tender night.
And he let's himself wonder, just for a moment, if it’s better to burn out than to fade away.
All I Need are Cigarettes and Alcohol
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: R (sexually explicit situations)
For: ewinfic
Prompt: Response to Super Sex by Morphine.
He only smokes when he's with Zach.
It's like foreplay. They could have a cigarette each but they share, passing it back and forth, fingers touching as they do, the wet filter like a kiss they hide from the rest of the world.
'It's my only vice,' Zach likes to say with a slow smile, swallowing a mouthful of whiskey.
Then Chris laughs and passes him the cigarette, their knuckles grazing as he takes the glass, draining it while Zach reaches for the bottle.
'You're incorrigible,' he likes to say when Zach refills it. This time he spills whiskey on his hand and Chris knows that Zach doesn’t do anything without thinking about it first.
So he licks his hand and Zach smiles. 'What does that taste like?'
Then comes the kiss. Long and deep and smoky warm.
And finally Chris gets to touch his hair, to feel the wool of his jacket beneath his fingers as he tugs it over his shoulders. And he doesn't know how he did it, how he managed an entire evening without touching him, kissing him, licking the stubborn line of his jaw.
Zach's teeth leave red lines down his neck, his chest. Marks that disappear like love letters written in invisible ink as he peels through the layers of pinstripe and cotton to find the skin beneath.
Then Chris, blind with need, pulls his hair and reclaims his mouth, kissing him as though he's giving Zach his last breath.
After that, it's just a feral mess of hands and fingers and biting, whiskey kisses. Zach holds him down, even though he isn't going anywhere, and kisses Chris' neck like he's branding him, tattooing his name across his chest with his tongue. When he gets to Chris' stomach, he stops, licking a long line across it, as though he's marking a point of no return.
There's a moment of silence when it's just breathing and the sound of Chris' blood screaming in his ears. Then Zach presses a kiss to the line, and crosses it.
END
写下来,我会刮的
配对: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
级别: PG-13
For: bentley
提示: 很多事情--"这一切都回到我身边"--记得当我们只有仙人掌那么高,在Montgomery和Broadway街角的书店附近,站在灯柱边,当我们看着对方的眼睛,你在笑,我被你的笑声吓着了--我不能告诉你或我是谁,在我看来,我们就像是空了的玩具.你的笑预示了这.(Alan Ginsberg.)
他为自己划下界限,树立高墙,禁锢自己直到不能动弹,直到他太害怕以至于不敢呼吸,生怕那围墙倒下.
Chris没有越过线,永远不会.他打破了一切接触,就像一头俗话所说的公牛在Zach小心翼翼布置的瓷器店里横冲直撞.他这么做了,仅仅笑了下,歪一歪头,就像他喜欢看着Zach试着抓住一切,试着用微笑和胸口上的手令他镇定下来.
他大概做到了.
*
他从来没有这么害怕过一个微笑,那么蓝的双眼周围的皮肤.这让他的心跳得像一个故障的收音机,在"暂停"和"播放"之间跳来跳去.
他选了后者,因为他想在Chris和那些不安分的手之间拉开距离.他会把他们都摧毁.
但是Chris跟上去了.
所以Zach在街灯的白色影子下停住了,转身面对他就像一个人面对取自己命的人;在他背叛放弃之前虚张声势的一刻.
Chris把一只手按上他的脸;拇指轻轻拂过Zach的面颊就好像这不过是一个醉酒之人的好奇心罢了.那是如此轻柔--温柔--Zach提醒自己别蠢了;Chris可以轻松地结果了他只不过没试着这么做而已.
他们接吻,Chris的手在Zach的外套翻领上攥成拳头,就好像那是他唯一的生命,他的嘴好热,敞开,而且脆弱.然后周围的一切都分崩离析,就像风中的沙煲,一直到只剩下他们.突然地,Zach感到了自由,未来像宽广的,黑色的天空盘旋之上:清晰且永无止境.
那么久以来的第一次,他呼出一口气,感觉自己还活着.
夜未央
配对: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
级别: PG-13
For: brutalsong
提示: when you leave, i ain't comin' - maps - when you leave ...or something with a breakup.
结束就和开始一样:安静,彬彬有礼,合理地.
他们不谈这个.没有什么戏剧性的分手场面,像摔杯子啦摔门啦还有倒在厨房地板上哭泣啦.
他们之间突然停止了,什么也没了,而且好像没什么理由再见面.
这说得通,他假设.没有承诺,没有誓言,没有计划.只是连着几个晚上,他的好奇心撞上了Zach的孤寂,某种君子协定,他跪着,Zach抱着他好像他需要他,如果放纵自己的话.当说完做完之后,没什么可以好奇的,没什么可以怀念的.因为他们有自己的生活,现在他可以回去那些漫无目的的周三下午喝咖啡,而Zach终于可以看完那本被他打断了的书.
也许这就是那什么,玩乐罢了.一些他们累到不想说话是要做的东西.片刻的熟悉-舒适-在一连串的酒店房间里,最后感觉起来都差不多.(那和里程数无关,你还是睡在别人的床单上.)
他有时候会想想他,当他躺在床上,累到骨子里,带着装作是另一个人的又一个夜晚的疲惫和不安.他在黑暗中伸出一只手,希望能找到皮肤,热量,和安心.但什么也没有,只有一张过大的床和无尽的,温柔的夜晚.
他让意识游离,只是片刻,如果这比化为灰烬或消逝好些.
我只需要烟和酒精
配对: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
级别: R (sexually explicit situations)
For: ewinfic
提示: Response to Super Sex by Morphine.
他只在和Zach一起的时候才吸烟.
就像前戏.他们可以各抽一只但还是分着抽了,互相递来递去,手指相触,湿湿的滤嘴像一个躲过世界的吻.
"这是我最后一支."Zach说着,慢悠悠地笑了,咽下一口威士忌.
Chris大笑,把烟递给他,当他拿着玻璃瓶的时候他们的膝盖相触,Zach喝光了酒.
"你真是屡教不改."当Zach续杯的时候他说.这次他把酒洒在手上,而Chris知道Zach不会想也不想一下就做些什么.
所以他舔舔他的手,Zach笑了."味道如何?"
然后就是吻.长长的,深入地,像烟一样温暖.
终于,Chris摸上他的头发,手指爬上肩膀,将他拖近,划过夹克上的羊毛.他不知道他是怎么做到的,打算就这样一晚上而不碰他,吻他,舔他的下巴.
Zach在他脖子和胸膛上留下红痕.这些记号会像用隐形墨水书写的情书一样消退,在他剥开层层衣物,抚上之下的皮肤.
Chris,看不见,带着欲求,拉着头发堵上他的嘴,吻他就好像渡给Zach最后一口气.
之后,就只是一些乱七八糟的手,手指,咬,带着威士忌味儿的吻.Zach摁着他,即使他哪儿也去不了,吻他的脖子就好像在给他上标签,用他的舌头给他的胸前纹上自己的名字.当他达到Chris的腹部,他停下,沿着一条长线舔过去,仿佛标记一条不归路.
有那么一瞬间的寂静,只有喘息声和血液奔流的声音穿过Chris的耳朵.然后Zach在那条线上印下一吻,然后越过线,向下.
END
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