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Spirk (with a small dose of Pinto)

Fan Fiction and Personal Ramblings

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Flash Fic, November 30, 2020

The Thought of You is Consuming Me….

The Clothes they’d wear

It was easier for him to come to my estate. I stayed there alone during the off season save for a few servants who looked after me. My family, consisting of my mother and brother, preferred to stay in London full-time, only coming to the country estate rarely.

I knew that for my mother it held too many memories of the husband she had lost far too young, and for my brother, he wanted not only to look after her, but he liked to be closer to the action of London, even in times when the social set were absent.

I preferred the comfort and solitude the country afforded me, now more than ever, when I could have visits with Chris.

The middle of autumn was among my favorite times at my estate. The weather was crisp, clean and pure. Far away from the soot and smoke and dastardly fog of London. The leaves turned. The truly cold air made your lungs feel like you were indeed alive. And the nights by the fire, sipping port with my lover. Yes, I loved this time.

Chris would come and see me a few days at a time, and whatever he told his family, he never elaborated. It was our time together and we allowed no one else to intrude.

Chris was always provided a room of his own, though he never stayed in it. He always slept with me, even on the rare nights it didn’t become physical between us. I kept very loyal, well compensated servants at the estate who knew not to gossip or question our arrangements.

After my cook prepared our least meal for the day and the staff cleaned up, assuring themselves I needed no further care, they went off for the evening, to their homes in the village or on the estate itself, and left Chris and me to ourselves. They never returned before late morning, knowing neither of us were particularly early risers.

I suspected they were as loyal and efficient as they were because as serving positions went, my requirements were really quite low and easy, allowing them a lot of free time. When I was not there, they had even less to do, though I continued to pay them to care for my family’s home and lands.

One late November night, after they had departed, Chris and I lounged together on a sofa in the library, sipping port. He had positioned himself so that he was between my legs, his back against my chest, as he read some heavy tome he had chosen from said library. I pretended to read the London newspaper, but I was more interested in the port and watching him.

I loved the way his tongue poked out as he read a particular passage in the book. He was adorable. The whole thing struck me as rather domesticated, though I knew we could never truly be a couple accepted by our peers.

One day, perhaps not soon, we would not be allowed this amount of freedom. Yes, we would still meet. Still steal as much intimacy as we could. For the rest of our lives, as we had vowed. But these were times to be treasured. Before such demands of society changed this.

“Mmm?” Chris leaned back further to glance up at me, his head lying upon my chest as those blue eyes searched mine.

“What?”

“You’re thinking quite loudly tonight, Zachary. What’s on your mind?”

“You,” I admitted. “Us.”

Chris smirked. “Do you wish for me to put the book away so we can retire to bed then?”

“No,” I murmured. “I have been enjoying this.”

He patted my hand that I had resting on his thigh. “Me too.” He took a sip of his port. “But let me know when you’re ready. You know how engrossed I can be.”

I did know and it was one of the many, many reasons I loved him.

I brushed my fingertips over his hair and then went back to my London news and that wonderful feeling of domesticity.     

And that is a wrap for November….on to my Spirk Hallmark Christmas Story.

Flash Fic, October 02, 2020

A somewhat melancholy autumn day for the boys of The Thought of You is Consuming Me.

Photo by Adrianna Calvo on Pexels.com

I opened my eyes to see the spot next to me in bed was currently empty. I placed my hand there and it still felt warm from Chris’ body. I turned onto my back, looking up at the carved wood ceiling. The room was well-lit with both candles and sunlight from the open windows.

They’d been pulled closed before, so I knew Chris had opened them and lit the candles. I allowed no servants to enter my bedchamber when Chris stayed over. I glanced over and saw him standing there at the window looking out on Bulwary Street, no doubt at the carriages and riders passing by. There’d be fewer now. Though I knew London was never really deserted, even when the Season ended, which it had more than a month earlier.

“You’re up early,” I said.

“Have to be off,” Chris replied, not turning around. “Traveling out of London and to the Country seat this afternoon.”

I knew it of course, but the words and the meaning behind them still hit me hard. We wouldn’t see each other nearly as much over the next several weeks. He would be off to his family’s estates and me to mine. Miles away from London and our almost nightly visits.

I sat up then and swung my leg to the floor.

He turned then, his blue eyes sweeping over me. “You don’t have to get up, Zach. I wasn’t going to bother you.”

“No goodbye?”

“Wasn’t last night’s activities enough of a goodbye?” He smiled, sweet and almost shy. “Temporary anyway. It’s never truly goodbye.”

I rose and went to him. “And it shan’t ever be, Christopher.” I pulled him into my arms, and we kissed deep and slow.

He leaned against me, resting his head against my shoulder. “And when are you off?”

“Not until tomorrow morning. I’ve got some things to settle up here today.”

“Autumn is my favorite time in the country,” he murmured. “Only that we are parted is my one regret.”

“We will make time as always.”

“Yes.” He put his hand on my cheek, the bristle of the growth of beard on my jaw. “I love you. Only you.”

“And you have my love in return. May your journey be a safe one.”

He smiled and kissed me once more. “And yours.”   

Flash Fic, August 26, 2020

Happy 40th to CP. Just a little something.

“How about a cruise?”

Zach shook his head. “No. Just a few years ago there was all that pandemic stuff.”

Chris frowned. “I’ve never been. Thought it might be fun.”

“Uh-uh. Maybe in another five years.”

Chris sighed. “Hawaii.”

“That’s nice but I went there with M—”

“Forget it,” Chris said quickly. “Australia?”

“Really long flight.”

“Damn it, Zach, where do you want to go then?”

Zach reached for and grabbed Chris’ hand to pull him close. He put his hands on Chris’ hips then. “You want a crazy idea?”

“You’ve shot down every one of mine, so I’d love to hear what you suggest for our summer vacation.”

“A staycation.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “What?”

“We have the pool, the jacuzzi, the tennis courts. Even a gym. We disconnect from the world, no phones, no internet, no social media. Just you and me for your birthday and the natural order of things. Well for people with a pool and a spa, anyway.”

Chris put down the brochures. “That’s starting to sound okay.”

“Of course it does. We can barbecue, lie out by the pool. If it gets too hot, we move inside and do each other.”

Chris laughed. “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me. You always do.”

Zach smiled and kissed him. “I always do.”

Flash Fic, August 7, 2020

I had not intended to update this one any time soon, and they didn’t work for Christmas in July, but I gave in to a plea, and wrote this little tease of my Pinto couple from The Thought of You is Consuming Me.

The sort of clothes they boys would be wearing

“Zachary, have you heard?”

I looked up from my copy of the London Times, folded it on my lap and picked up my small glass of sherry. I had arrived at the gentlemen’ club, White’s, about an hour before. I’d had a dinner of roast beef in the dining room and had just recently relocated to the reading room to enjoy the news in peace. Clearly I was not going to be allowed that peace.

“What are you talking about this time, Chauncy?”

Chauncy smirked and seated himself in the plush chair next to me. “That particular friend of yours. Lord Christopher Pine.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What about him?”

He shrugged. “Only that there’s a rumor he’s engaged to Lady Annabelle.”

I scoffed. I knew Chris would have told me had it been true. “I have not heard. Nor do I believe it to be true.”

“Hmm. It’s all over London. The season’s about over and everyone will be returning to the country before the weather gets bad. Supposedly it will be announced before then.”

It couldn’t be true. Not that I knew Christopher could stay unattached forever. Neither of us could. Eventually we would have to keep up appearances and wed. But surely he would tell me if there had even been a hint of it happening this soon.

It would change nothing between us, of course. We had determined we would remain close even when fulfilling our duties as peers of society.

“Anyway, I’ll be off now,” Chauncy declared, rising. “I’m due at the Rileston Ball. Will I see you there?”

I shook my head. “Not likely. I plan to make an early night of it.”

“All right, old chap. See you then.”

With a sigh, I once more began to read the Times. After a bit I dozed off, and woke to the scent of a cigar. I blinked rapidly as it was brought right before my face. I seized it and quirked a brow at Chris, who now stood over me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sat in the seat vacated previously by Chauncy, holding a cigar of his own as well as a glass of sherry. I noticed mine had been refilled.

I drew on my cigar and then flicked my head in his direction. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Hmm?”

“Chauncy tells me you and Lady Annabelle are about to announce your engagement.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Oh stuff it.”

“True or not then?”

“Wouldn’t I tell you if it were?”

“I thought so.”

“Course I would. Chauncy never knows what he’s talking about. Not that Lady Annabelle and her family  doesn’t want that. They do. But no engagement is coming. At least not for this season. I can push it off for a bit longer.”

“Ah, but will the fair Annabelle wait for you for next season?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. I don’t know. But I’m not rushing things for anyone.” He eyed me over the rim of his sherry. “How about you? Any prospects for a blushing bride?”

I snorted. “Not hardly. I plan on putting it off for quite a bit longer, if you must know. I rarely even attend the balls for that very reason. I don’t need all those mamas pushing their oh so beautiful daughters in my direction.”

“A wise thing. I’m supposed to go to Rileston’s tonight, but I don’t want to.”

“Come to my place instead. We’ll finish these and be off. I have my coach.”

Chris smiled as he took a sip. “Very tempting.”

“Give into it.”

He laughed then, with delight, I might add, and I knew I had won his concession. Lady Annabelle be damned.

We finished our cigars and sherries and were in my coach headed to my home in only thirty minutes. As soon as we got into our seats in my coach, Chris was kissing me, eagerly.

I cupped his jaw and deepened it, tangling our tongues. We kissed like this for the entire ride home, which due to the traffic of the season’s balls and fetes, took over a half hour to reach it.

He was beautifully flushed and only slightly rumpled as we exited where my driver left us. My butler let us in, and after refusing more glasses of sherry, we headed upstairs.    

O Christmas Tree

“Tyler Christmas Trees,” Chris read the sign as Zach pulled up in front of the tree lot.

It was a tree farm, really, and outside of Manhattan, of course, because there was hardly room for a farm there. Sure they had lots here and there dotting the streets of New York City, but Zach had wanted to go to the farm.

“I went here a few years back, first year I moved to New York,” Zach explained as he pulled into a parking space. “They have Santa and peppermint mocha in the barn over there.”

Chris smiled. He sounded kind of excited at the prospect. Zach had a sort of infectious excitement. He got out of the car and followed the other man through the gates of the farm.

“Is this the kind of place where you chop down your own tree?”

“Yeah you can do that kind of thing, if you’re into playing Paul Bunyan.”

Chris laughed. “You’re not I guess.”

Zach gave him a look. “I like real trees and all, but I like convenience.”

Chris walked into the barn after him. It was decorated with garlands and glitter and Santa and reindeer. Mrs. Claus too. Children sat on the lap of Santa, ushered there by elves.

“Cute. Did you have real trees growing up?”

“When Dad was alive, yeah, but once he passed Ma got artificial. It was easier for her with two boys to raise by herself. But since I went out on my own, I’ve been getting real. When I get a tree at all. Sometimes I didn’t bother because I was too busy.”

Zach walked up to the counter where a pretty elf stood manning the peppermint mochas. “Two please.” He took out his wallet and paid, handing one to Chris.

The “elf” was staring openly at Chris, giggling as she did.

Zach rolled his eyes as he put his hand on Chris’ arm and led him away. “Bet she’s seen Wonder Woman.”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s go check out the trees.”

They walked out of the barn and out to the pre-cut trees.

“Flocked or not flocked?”

“Not flocked. I get enough snow without having it in my apartment.”

“Hmm.”

Zach glanced at him. “What about you? Did you guys do Christmas trees?”

“Yeah, we did. Neither of my parents were particularly religious, though I guess they were as kids. But we kind of paid attention to holidays from a secular point of view.. So, yeah, we had a tree. And they were usually real ones.”

Zach smiled. “Well, thanks for being here to help me pick out my tree. It’s great to have you here in New York right now.”

They went up and down aisle after aisle until finally Zach stopped by a six and a half foot leafy tree.

“This is the one,” he announced. “Let me get someone to help us.”

They ended up scheduling it to be delivered to Zach’s apartment rather than them dealing with it themselves.

After it had been set up, Zach stood back and surveyed the tree.  “What do you think, Pine?”

He put a deliberate stress on Chris’ last name that had him rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it looks great.”

Zach moved close to him and put his hand on Chris’ arm. “Ready to help me decorate?”

“Sure am.” He covered Zach’s hand with his.  Then with his other hand he held up some mistletoe. He leaned over and kissed Zach softly. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Speaking of…” Zach murmured against his lips. “Is there anyway…?”

“I can stay in New York for Christmas?”

Zach sighed. “Sorry. I know I shouldn’t ask. Your family…never mind.”

“Zach, I didn’t say no.”

Zach’s gaze rose. “But?”

“But nothing.” Chris grinned. “I can stay.”

“Are you sure?”

Chris’ smile gentled and he kissed Zach again, longer, softer. “I’m sure.” He turned toward the tree. “Got your banjo?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just get it.”

Zach walked away and returned with his banjo, a question in his eyes.

“Do you know ‘O Christmas Tree?”

Zach laughed. “Oddly enough, yeah.” He began to strum it.

“O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, How Lovely Are Thy Branches.”

Blue Christmas

Chris had been, admittedly, ridiculously excited about the prospect of Zach joining him for Christmas this year. The moment Zach had mentioned the possibility on the phone with him, Chris had been absolutely certain it would happen.

He’d began to plan for it immediately. What most people who didn’t know him well didn’t know was that Chris was a compulsive planner. He began planning activities for them to do while Zach was in Los Angeles. And he absolutely had to stay with Chris. Yeah, he knew that most of the time Zach rented a place a friend of his owned, but this time Chris would take no arguments to the contrary, Zach would stay with him.

Zach had laughingly agreed after a time. After all his trip there would have to be brief this time, only a handful of days, so renting a place wasn’t ideal anyway.

Chris sat down and wrote out menus and movies and stuff to bake together. Like they’d done way back when Zach still lived in LA. Before New York, before Miles, before the women Chris had dated.

Maybe everything wasn’t like it used to be, Chris got that. But he missed Zach so much. And the man wouldn’t move back full-time. He liked New York, Zach told him. Chris did too, but he still didn’t want to move there.

He knew he had a problem when he bought all kinds of things to make decorated sugar cookies. Years ago, they’d made cookies together one Christmas Eve. The cookies hadn’t tasted amazing or even looked that way, but it had been so much fun, and Chris had been so in love then.

It had been crazy, probably, to think he could ever get those feelings back, those times back. So much had changed and they’d both moved on in so many ways.

But he even bought cookie cutters, and colored sugar, and frosting and nonpareils.

Zach was coming on December 22 and would be returning to New York on December 26. Chris had fought with him family a bit over his plans to spend so much time with Zach instead of them.

And then he’d gotten the call on December 21. For some reason as soon as he’d seen Zach’s number show up on his flip phone, his stomach felt as though it had a heavy ball of dread in it.

“Hello.”

“Hey, man.”

“What’s up?” Chris decided to just cut to the chase.

“I’ve got some bad news.” A long pause. Chris could hear some noise in the background. “I’m not going to be able to make it to LA after all.”

“I…see.”

“I know, I’m disappointed too. But I have to do some reshoots here in New York and the only time available is now. Next week I’m due to go to Pittsburgh to see Mom and—”

“No, I know. I get it. It’s fine,” Chris said, before he could go further and just make it all worse.

“I’ll come out sometime in January.”

He winced at the vague ‘sometime’. Nodded even though Zach couldn’t see it.  

“Sure.”

“It’s just the reshoots…”

“Yeah. It’s the business. I know how it works. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“You’re mad,” Zach said softly.

“No,” Chris denied. “Just…disappointed like you said. Look, there’s someone at the door. I have to go. Merry Christmas.”

He ended the call before Zach could say anything else.

He stood alone in the kitchen feeling stupid for ever getting his hopes up. He didn’t even like the holidays. Not Christmas, not Hanukkah. Any of it. Why had he even agreed to this? He could have gone camping with the guys or even flown to England to see Annabelle.

With all the filming he’d done lately, not that long ago returning from Romania, he should be glad he could just veg at home alone with nothing to do. Catch up on some sleep. And maybe, he supposed, he could see his family on Christmas after all.

He glared at all the sugar cookie stuff he’d bought and thought about throwing it all away. But no. He couldn’t be that wasteful. He’d donate it.

And now, he was going out to get drunk.

****

The banging on the door matched the banging in his head. For a long time, Chris ignored both.

He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling while he came to terms with the most bitch of a hangover he’d had in a long time.

It was Elvis’ fault. He’d started belting out Blue Christmas at the lounge he’d been at last night. And Chris just told the bartender to keep them coming.

Stupid song.

He turned his head to gaze at his lifeless phone. He hadn’t plugged it in to charge it when he’d stumbled home last night, courtesy of an Uber driver. Probably why Katie was banging on his front door. Because of course it was her. It always was Katie.

Chris blew out a heavy sigh and flung himself out of bed. He wore only a tank top and boxers and his teeth felt like they wore sweaters, but Katie would just have to deal with him like this. She should have just used his key and made him coffee instead of pounding on his door like some crazed lunatic.

“Coming,” he mumbled. He couldn’t rustle up the energy or willpower to shout to her or to even hurry.

“Honest to God, Katie, you are so annoying.” He wrenched the door open, mouth open to give her a blistering piece of his mind.

“My God, it’s about fucking time,” Zach said with something of a snarl.

Zach.

“What…I…what?”

Zach smirked. “You are the absolute biggest pain in the ass to surprise. Do you know that? Let me in, for heaven’s sake.”

Chris stepped back and Zach came barreling in.

He turned to stare at his friend. “But you said…”

“I lied. Doofus.” He dropped a suitcase down on the floor of Chris’ front hall. “And even if I hadn’t, you were about to cry on the phone, so I had to come.”

“Was not,” Chris muttered.

Those lips Chris loved quirked upward. “You look like hell. Come here.”

Chris moved into Zach’s arms and they came around him, pulling him close. He sagged against him.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You can believe it. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry…yeah.” Chris swallowed down the emotion threatening to unman him.

“God, you reek. Shower time.”

Chris pulled back and grinned. “Okay, yeah. And pizza. And cookies.”

“Cookies?” Zach brightened at that. “Let me at them. I’m starving.”

“We have to make them first.”

“Make them? What? Damn it, Pine. The last time was such a disaster.”

“Was not.”

“Was so. They tasted like bricks.”

Chris headed down the hall toward the bathroom. “Since when have you eaten bricks?”

“Well…”

Here We Go a Wassailing

Regency Pinto from The Thought of You is Consuming Me

I had left London much later than I should have and I’d had to stop at an inn and stables to rest my horse for quite a bit longer than I had planned or anticipated.

Therefore it was full on dark and light as I rode up the long pathway to the Quinton Country Estate. I saw no indication of light in any window as I approached and I realized with some dismay, Zach had stopped expecting me.

Before he’d left London for the Christmas season, we’d discussed the day I should make my arrival there, if I was going to. It had been far from certain. He’d been so hopeful that I likely had been too encouraging in my agreement to try. My parents had made it clear they wanted me to stay in London, spending the break from University with them, instead of in the country with my friend. As he would only ever be to them. To anyone.

Thus the reason I had left too late to make it to his home at a decent time. I’d been trying to make both them and him happy and it had exhausted me, to be honest.

And as discouraged as I was by the sight of his dark unwelcoming house, I made my way to the stables to store and properly care for my horse.

By the time I had finished to make my way to the house, I was exhausted beyond reason and stumbling up the path to the door. I knocked.

Of course there was no immediate answer. It was Zach’s usual practice to send his servants away during my visits so we could freely explore our affections for each other.

I knocked again.

Waited.

Nothing.

I did not relish sleeping on his doorstep nor with my horse. I knocked louder and harder.

“Zach! Zachary!”

When I was about to lose all hope, I heard the snick of the lock. I straightened as the door opened.

“Christopher?”

He looked wrecked. His cravat was askew and his hair disheveled. And definitely redness around the eyes.

I smiled. “Who else?”

Zach blinked. “I…didn’t think you were coming.”

I almost hadn’t but of course I didn’t say that. I couldn’t. Instead I said simply, “Of course I was coming. Can I come in?”

He seized me then, pulling me into the house and into his arms. For a long time we just held each other. It had been too long since we’d had such a private opportunity to do this. His arms around me felt better than anything.

Finally he pulled back and cupped my cheek with his very warm hand. I hadn’t realized how cold I was. “I’m so glad. You look cold and miserable.”

I laughed, which turned rather watery because the exhaustion was making me emotional. “I’ve had a rough day.”

“Me too. Come into the kitchen.”

He pulled me there, unwilling to let go of me for even a second. And I was glad.

My chest ached when we reached the kitchen for I saw discarded food, thrown away. I knew instantly he had been preparing a feast for me and when I had not come…

“Zachary,” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I had rather a melancholy fit when you didn’t arrive when I thought you should.” He shook his head. “I’m embarrassed and mortified.”

I drew him close and kissed him for a long time. “Even if I had not been able to come that doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I love you. Adore every single bit of you.”

“I return those sentiments tenfold.” He smiled wryly. “And while I have ruined our perfectly good supper, I had not yet discarded the wassail.”

I laughed as he went to a sideboard and dipped glasses into a bowl of wassail. He handed one to me.

I took a large sip. “You do a fine wassail, my love.”

“Tomorrow when we wake I will spoil you endlessly with feasts and love all the day long,” Zach assured me.

I kissed him once more. “This may yet be the best of Christmases.”

“I vow it.”

Wassail Recipe

Flash Fic, October 16, 2019

Featuring Pinto

Chris stepped outside as Zach held the door open of the Starbucks they had just had coffee at just moments earlier.

“Dinner next?” Chris wondered, because truth be told, he was hungry. The espresso he’d just downed hadn’t really done much to get rid of that.

He’d been vaguely surprised to even hear from Zach as he knew his friend had a pretty busy filming schedule right now. Still, Chris wouldn’t complain about any chance to spend time with Zach.

“Eventually, sure,” was Zach’s reply. “But it being October and just a couple of weeks until Halloween, I thought we’d do something else first.”

Chris eyed him. “Something else? Halloween? Oh, God. Please tell me you aren’t having us go to an Escape Room. I’m claustrophobic.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “I know that, Christopher. Not an Escape Room. A haunted house.”

“A haunted…damn it, Zach. Most of those are so lame. I haven’t gone to one of those since I was a teenager.”

“A very long time ago,” Zach cracked.

“Says the guy who is older than me. Okay, fine. We’ll go. But you are so buying dinner.”

Zach smiled amicably. “Sure, sure.” He clicked open the locks of the rental car. “Get in, my boy.”

Chris snorted, but got in. Zach remained mostly silent on the way to the haunted house. Beating a rhythm on the dashboard to Monster Mash playing on the radio.

He pulled into a parking lot that proclaimed it was for the Haunted House. To Chris it looked like one of those prop houses on the movie lots, but he shook his head, grinned good-naturedly, and got out to follow Zach up to the door where his friend forked over two five dollar bills as entrance fees.

A woman stood in the front entry way of the house, dressed in an outfit reminiscent of a Disneyland costume from the Haunted Mansion.

“Welcome, Victims,” she declared in a falsely eerie voice. She pointed to an elevator. “This way.”

Chris withheld his eye role and followed Zach and a few others into the elevator, which predictably dropped several flows below. There was a scream and the elevator went dark.

“Disney should sue,” Chris muttered. He put his hand on Zach’s arm.

The elevator stopped and the lights flashed on.

He turned to Zach to say something about the lameness when he saw his hand was on some other guy’s arm. He stared at Chris.

“Do you mind, dude?” the guy said, moving away.

“Zach? Where the hell did you go, man?” He glanced around but didn’t see his friend. Everyone was moving on to the next part, so Chris followed, all the while looking for Zach, figuring his impatient friend had gone on without him.

At the next part, Chris jumped a little when costumed performers jumped out unexpectedly. And okay, maybe the first time his scream was a little high-pitched.

“Zach? Dude, where’d you go?”

He moved on to another part with a room full of twisted mirrors, but still didn’t find Zach. He was starting to get pissed. He hadn’t expected Zach to ditch him.

At the end, the last room had a mad scientist, and he was working on a mannequin in a chair. He pulled out a drill and aimed it for the dummy’s mouth.

And then the dummy screamed.

“Chris! Chris! Help! Help!”

****

“Hey, come on, Chris. It was a joke, okay?”

“Not funny.” Chris walked ahead back to the car.

“It was a little. You should have seen your face.” Zach stopped to double over laughing.

“Fuck you, Quinto.”

Zach straightened and scrambled after him. “Sorry. Come on. Sorry. Okay.”

Chris looked away, and wiped his eyes.

“Wait. Jeez. You…you aren’t crying, are you?”

“No.”

“Shit. Yeah, you are. Chris, man, no. I didn’t mean anything. It was just a stupid…” Zach grabbed Chris’ arms and turned him. “I would never…”

Chris laughed and smacked him in the face. “Crying. Get real.”

“You asshole!” Zach touched his face where Chris hit him. But he was laughing too. “You had me going.”

Chris smirked. “Yeah? That was lame, Quinto.”

Zach nodded. “Yeah, a little.” He searched Chris’ eyes. “So, we’re good?”

“Yeah.” He moved in close, putting his hand over Zach’s that still touched his face where Chris had hit. “Did I hurt you?”

“Stung a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“Want to kiss and make it better?”

Their hands lowered from Zach’s face and Chris smiled, leaning in, kissing his stubbly jaw.

“Did that make it better?”

“Hmm. Not sure. You’d better do it again.”

Chris chuckled, but he did, and just as his lips touched Zach’s jaw, he turned his face, so that Chris was kissing his mouth instead. Chris’ tongue teased the corner of Zach’s mouth.

“Better?” Chris murmured and kissed him again, this time longer.

“Way better. Dinner? How about we order a pizza and eat it at your place?”

“Best idea you’ve had since you called me, Quinto.” He kissed Zach long and slow, lingering over the stubble of his jaw as he pulled back. “Maybe you can try escaping from my room.”

Zach shook his head. “I’ll fail. Because I’m not leaving until morning.”

Chris laughed. “I thought surely that should be my line. You’ll never get away.” His laughter was sinister.

Zach opened the rental car. “Just get in, Pine.”

“Home, James.”

“Zach. Remember? Zach.”

Chris reached for his hand and threaded their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah. I know.”

Flash Fic, July 26, 2019

When I mentioned doing a Christmas flash for the Pinto Regency boys, JJ mentioned Christmas in July as a hint that she would love a Flash for this month as well. Enjoy.

I wasn’t surprised to see him riding out toward my spot on the grass. I expected he would join me at some point. But I was surprised at how quickly he appeared.

Zachary was an elegant rider, beautiful and masculine, and today he was dressed all in chestnut brown which seemed to match the color of his big stallion. He jumped off as soon as he stopped next to me, tying his horse to the nearest tree, next to the horse I’d left there.

He grinned down at me. “You’ve taken your boots off, young Lord Christopher. How scandalous.”

I chuckled. “There’s no one around for miles and this is your own estate. I think going barefoot should be permitted.”

He dropped down next to me on the blanket, on his knees, and to my delighted surprise, his mouth covered mine in a deep, breath-stealing kiss.

“Zach,” I breathed out when he broke away. “I thought you said we dare not.”

He flopped down on his back then, to gaze up at the afternoon sun. “As you said, there’s no one here. No one but us. I’ve even sent the staff away.”

“Did you finish your estate work?”

“Yes. All finished. Well, until day after tomorrow anyway. The rest of the day is ours.”

“And night.”

“Mm. Mrs. Hatchett has left us a roasted chicken for supper. And I am sure I can throw together some things to accompany it.”

“Sounds like heaven,” I admitted. I turned over on my stomach and rested my hand on his, over his coat. “I wish we never had to leave. This place is glorious.”

“What makes it glorious is being here with you. I’ve been here dozens of times, over years of my life, and believe me, it wasn’t near as glorious.”

I smiled and glanced around, but saw nothing and no one. Except a bird or two flying overhead. I leaned over and placed my mouth on his, feeling the rough stubble on his face. He tasted vaguely of whiskey and tobacco, but somehow it was not at all unpleasant.

His hand came up to hold my jaw in place as he increased the pressure of our lips. His tongue darted out to swipe against mine and I moaned low.

Zach released my jaw then and sighed. “Let’s go back to the house and continue this more privately.”

“All right,” I agreed, readily.

“Unless you’ve been enjoying the sun out here. It can wait if you wish.”

I shook my head and straightened up to my knees. “What I wish is to go back to the house, to our room, where you can spent the rest of what’s left of daylight ravishing me, before we have supper.”

Zach arched a brow. “Consider yourself ravished, Lord Christopher. It will definitely be my pleasure.”

We rose and folded up the blanket, returning to the horses, to ride back to the manor house to enjoy what remained of the day.   

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