werkin on that ster trak

For the micro fic meme: Pinto 11 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Zoe sends him a link to the photo, and Zach immediately goes through a series of reactions: surprise, incredulity, anger, delight, exasperation. It’s like the five stages of grief, except there are definitely more than five of them, he’s having all of them simultaneously, and the main one seems to be arousal.

It’s just a haircut, Zach tells himself, and he’s still telling himself that a week later when he finally sees Chris and the hair–or the lack of it–for himself. He can’t help but stare, barely able to say hello as his hands itch to touch Chris’s head.

Chris just chuckles at him, eyes crinkling. “I take it you like it then?”

Zach finally drags his gaze back to Chris’s face and attempts a careless shrug. “I–well, I guess it’s okay.”

“Okay?” Chris repeats and smiles again. He steps closer, until there’s hardly any space between them. “You wanna touch it?”

“What?”

Chris takes Zach’s hand and lifts it to his head. Zach very nearly moans at the feel of those short hairs against his palm as he moves his hand, watching as Chris’s eyes close in bliss. He gets hard embarrassingly fast and actually whimpers when Chris brings their crotches together and grinds against him.

“I hoped you’d like it,” Chris whispers against Zach lips, his eyes still closed, and then they are kissing and Zach can’t bring himself to care about the sounds he makes.