Madame G (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
filthgoblin) wrote2009-08-25 08:54 pm
filthgoblin) wrote2009-08-25 08:54 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: "Mutual Appreciation Society", rated R
Title: "Mutual Appreciation Society"
Pairing: A little pairing I've decided to call B-Fine, because no-one can stop me. AKA William Shatner/Chris Pine. You heard me.
Wordcount: 3,408
Rating: R
Warnings: Nothing for graphic content as such. Just be aware of the fact that it switches point of view from Bill to Chris and back again several times. I hope it doesn't make people seasick.
Summary: Chris wasn't sure if he was reading this wrong, and he felt ridiculous thinking it but... Was Shatner hitting on him?
Writer's notes: Inspired by the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
trek_rpf_kink meme, the prompt was simply "Shatner blowing Captain Fine". Anon went on to say "I realise it is probably pointless to even ask for this because nobody else is as fucked up as I am". I beg to differ, BB.
This took ages to write. The dialogue flowed pretty naturally and then the segue to smut failed me. I was spurred by another commenter saying they might fill the prompt and suddenly the fic was finished. In about half an hour. Amazing what the fear of being usurped will do for both inspiration and motivation. Unbeta'd because, let's be fair, who would?
Chris had been so grateful to William Shatner for his response to his first contact about the role when he was cast as Kirk. Truth be told, in addition to his understandable excitement he had been more than a little bit daunted about taking on such an iconic role from such an iconic actor. Even though he hadn't been much of a fan of Star Trek before he was cast, you would need to have spent your lifetime under a rock not to know about Shatner and his creation of such an enormous character. They really were some huge boots that Chris had to fill, and even Shatner's acknowledgment had meant the world to Chris.
What Chris hadn't been expecting was how warmly he would be received when they first met at a charity event after the movie launched. Chris had approached him with trepidation at first, but Shatner had beamed at him and made him feel so, so worthy. It had made Chris's heart pound and his mouth dry like parchment, and when a meeting after the party was suggested to allow them more time for them to talk, Chris had beamed like a kid at Christmas.
~*~
Bill had suggested they meet at his home. It made sense, he told himself, since Chris was being followed by the paparazzi like rats follow the Pied Piper since the movie had been released. Anywhere they met in public they would be harassed and followed, he reasoned. What he couldn't even quite admit to himself yet was why he wanted Chris somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted.
Pacing in the den, Bill felt like an anxious teenager waiting for Chris to ring the doorbell. Hell, the boy reminded him so much of himself at that age. But that's all he was, really. Just a boy. And the mere thought of being so, so intrigued by someone who was just shy of 50 years younger than him... When they'd first met, Chris had called him Mr Shatner for heaven's sake.
Shuddering, he shrugged off the thought and set about busying himself with paperwork.
~*~
Arriving precisely five minutes early, Chris paced outside the huge door at the front of a huge house, feeling very small indeed. He wasn't even that sure whether he'd be able to talk coherently when he got inside, or what they would talk about. It was too late for them to talk character really – he had already sealed the deal on his portrayal of Kirk and even though he hoped Shatner wasn't mortally offended by his characterization there was very little he could do to alter it now. But deep down he did crave approval. The way Shatner's face had lit up when Chris met him that first time replayed in his head and made his stomach flip over.
Running his fingers through his hair and testing his grin reflected in the door's window pane, he pressed the doorbell and waited for a response. A couple of minutes of silence followed and, doubting he had the right time, the right day, the right house, Chris wrestled with whether he should ring again or leave and check the details. Raising a finger to press the brass bell button again, the door swung open revealing Shatner, dressed in pale slacks and an open-necked polo shirt, beaming a winning grin.
“Chris! How are ya?” he intoned cheerfully, sweeping a grand gesture with his arm. “Please, come in! Come in!”
Stepping over the threshold, Chris took in the entrance hall with his mouth slightly agape: marble tiles on the floor led to a wide curving staircase leading up onto a balcony-style landing. The high ceiling was painted white and reflected bright light into the cavernous lobby from the huge picture window on the landing, illuminating the artwork on the walls and seemingly leaving no shadows. As he pulled himself together a little and closed his mouth, Chris glanced to see his host standing next to him. “You have a really nice home, Mr Shatner” he started.
Making a scoffing noise, Shatner took Chris's elbow and steered him through the lobby. “Chris, please. Call me Bill. Everyone does.”
“Thanks, Bill” Chris replied, trying to suppress the nervousness in his voice.
“Excellent!” Shatner chimed merrily. “Now, what can I get you to drink?”
“I'll take a beer if you've got one, sir... I mean Bill” he replied, inwardly castigating himself for slipping on the name again so soon. Shatner grinned broadly. “I'm sure that can be arranged. Come with me.”
~*~
Settled into a pair of easy chairs, they faced each other in the den. Bill's eyes took in the man sitting squarely opposite him: feet planted some distance apart; knees at an acute angle; beer bottle cradled in both hands in front of his crotch, thumbs stroking the condensation from the neck of the bottle absent-mindedly as he licked his lips and cocked his head to the side, looking at Bill with a question in his eyes. “So, I hope you don't mind my asking, but how did you feel when you heard that they were making the movie with the original characters and a new cast? I mean, the role of Kirk must've been a defining role for you. How did you feel about it?”
Bill took an even breath, considering the question. “To be honest, Christopher, it felt a little odd. All my life I've been followed by Kirk. He's been a Godsend for me, he's made my career, my life, what it is today. But I can't help but feel strange with someone else playing with something that I'd always considered to be mine.” He paused, taking a long sip of his iced tea. “My first feeling was that I was gonna hate whatever young buck they drafted in to replace me!” he laughed, noting the way that Chris's brow furrowed with discomfort. “But when I received your letter I found it really hard to be mad at someone who had taken on the mantle and the responsibility so considerately.” Shifting forwards in his seat, he propped his elbows on his knees and looked at Chris with an unfaltering gaze. “What I wasn't expecting was to find someone who was so much like I was at your age.”
Chris shifted in his chair slightly and pushed out his bottom lip. “Really? You think I'm like you? In what way?”
“Oh, I don't mean that as in they only cast you because you're like me. What I mean is that your spirit, your fire, your enthusiasm, they all put me in mind of myself when I was still in my twenties.” Bill took another sip of his drink. “Doesn't do any harm to my ego that they chose to cast someone so goddamned handsome either”. He chuckled and settled back into his chair, watching Chris's expressions closely, seeing a myriad of emotions playing across his face.
“Thanks.” Chris took a long swill of his beer. Bill watched the way he rested the rim of the bottle against his lower lip and opened his mouth to pour the liquid over his tongue. Transfixed, it took shaking himself mentally to focus on what he should say next.
“So tell me, Chris. How are you coping with the attention now your career's gone stellar? If you'll pardon the pun.”
“It's kinda weird” Chris admitted. “I mean, this isn't the first movie role I've had, but it's the first one that's bought me this kind of notice. Seriously, the dudes that hang around outside my apartment and wait for me to go get coffee so they can snap me in my sweats? That's odd.”
“Y'see, that's a lot different to how things were in my day.”
“How so?”
“Well, when I started out as Kirk, no-one gave a damn about Star Trek or science fiction in general. There wasn't paparazzi then like there is now, or all the gossip there is now about actors and their personal lives. It was a real good role for me to get, a steady job, but at the back of my mind I did worry I'd be stuck with that role for the rest of my life. Not that I minded any. It was a great show to be involved with. It set me up for life”.
Chris nodded. ”But you did alright, though? I love the other stuff you've done. I loved watching re-runs of TJ Hooker when I was a kid!”
Re-runs, Bill echoed in his mind, trying not to think how young Chris must have been when he recorded those shows. “Well, thank you. That means a lot. A young audience is usually the most critical.”
“Well, I really mean it.”
A silence swelled, not uncomfortably for Bill, whose eyes followed Chris's own gaze to his fingers caressing the bottle between his thighs.
“I presume you've been taking full advantage of the privileges of your position though?” Bill asked. “I would imagine you've not been short of offers since the film opened?”
“You mean for work? Well I've been in the theater and that's been going really well, and I've got another movie coming out soon...”
“That's not really what I meant, no.” Bill smiled. “I meant offers of a more... personal nature.”
“Oh. Oh!” Chris flushed a little. “Well I've had a lot of attention from female fans. And a few male ones too, actually. But no. I've actually been finding it difficult to see anyone recently with the fact I seem to have a pack of paps permanently stationed outside my apartment. I don't want to drag anyone else into my crazy world right now.”
“Ah well that's a shame, Christopher” Bill said, sitting forward in his seat and fixing him with a direct look. “Because a good-looking, talented guy like you should get the adulation you deserve.” A look passed over Chris's face, one that said he was trying to process Bill's intentions, and Bill waited a few more seconds to let the possibilities filter into Chris's consciousness before standing up. “I'm going to get another. Beer?”
Chris faltered for a second before responding. “Um, yeah. That'd be good, thanks.”
Before Chris could hold out his spent beer bottle for Bill to take, Bill reached down and grasped the neck of it, circling it with his thumb and forefinger, and dragged it across Chris's crotch as he took it and taking a split second to watch a spark fire in Chris's eyes before walking to the kitchen.
~*~
Chris wasn't sure if he was reading this wrong, and he felt ridiculous thinking it but... Was Shatner hitting on him? The thought had occurred to him at the end of his first bottle of beer, but he'd dismissed it. Now three more bottles – or was it four? - had gone and he was certain that the look with which he was being appraised could best be described as hungry. He wasn't sure what bothered him more: the possibility that a guy, a guy old enough to be his grandfather for fuck's sake, seemed to be putting the moves on him; or the fact that he wanted so much not to be mistaken. It was crazy just how good it felt to have Shatner's approval. He felt like a schoolboy trying to impress his favorite teacher, and the more his responses got a favorable reaction, the more he wanted to please.
He shook his head inwardly, trying to shrug off the sense that Shatner's pose, leaning forward with head cocked to the side combined with questions that sounded more suggestive than the words alone, would indicate he was being propositioned. It didn't make sense, but through the giddiness of afternoon drinking Chris could hear himself responding in a way he knew was flirtatious. It might be a good idea to get out before I make a total ass of myself, he thought, glancing at his watch.
“You have somewhere you need to be?” Shatner asked. Chris was sure he looked a little disappointed.
“Yeah. I mean, no. Not really. I just don't want to take up too much of your time. I know you must be really busy and it's been so great of you to spend as much of your afternoon with me as you have already...”
Shatner raised his palm and cut Chris off before he could finish. “Then if you have nowhere else to be and you're happy to continue to indulge me, please don't think of leaving. I have nothing better to be doing right now than you”.
Chris blinked slowly, taking in the statement. There was a silence, and ample time for Shatner to take it back, or explain himself, but he didn't. Instead he sat looking at Chris, a smile creasing the corners of eyes twinkling with mischief. Although he knew he might well live to regret it, Chris swallowed down the butterflies in his stomach and replied “I can't think of anything I'd rather do right now, either.”
In a heartbeat, Shatner was out of his seat and advancing towards Chris. He wanted to move, but for what? To get out? To meet Shatner half-way? But what then? Kiss him? The thought seemed ridiculous but somehow he wanted to. The time he spent thinking it through, his mind working a little more slowly than usual, was long enough for Shatner to be standing beside him. He swallowed hard and kept his head down, swiveling his eyes to look up at Shatner looming above him and feeling his heartbeat in his throat. What now? The desirous look in the eyes regarding him was more intoxicating than the god-knows-how-many beers he'd drunk on an empty stomach and for as long as he felt this good about being wanted, he didn't want it to stop.
Shatner reached down and ran his hand through Chris's hair affectionately. A ruffle, almost like one would with a favorite nephew. Chris swallowed again. Maybe that was it? It was just affection and Chris had misread the signals. But Shatner didn't stop. Instead he disappeared from sight behind low-backed chair and Chris felt fingers trail from his scalp to the nape of his neck, halting the breath in his throat. He felt like a stunned animal, afraid to move in case this stopped or he woke up because this surely couldn't be real. The fingers working across his clavicle exposed by his v-neck tee definitely felt real, and goosebumps sprung up in the wake of featherlight fingertips lightly retreating back around around his neck as Shatner continued his slow circuit. Chris found himself leaning in to the touch, brushing his cheek against Shatner's forearm as his eyes closed.
~*~
Once the lap was complete, Bill stood between Chris's splayed knees. The sight before him of Chris with head bowed, eyes half-closed and lips parted, was delicious. Bill grabbed a cushion that Chris has tossed off the chair and dropped it on the ground, sinking to his knees between Chris' thighs. Chris's eyes opened and Bill found himself fixed with a look of confusion. He was sure he hadn't misread Chris's reaction, but wanted to give him chance to back out if he wanted.
Placing his palms on Chris's knees, he returned the gaze with an open look, leaving several moments for Chris to protest or move him away. He didn't. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he slowly ran his hands up Chris's denim-clad thighs, thumbs dropped between them as they made their ascent to the apex. Finally he allowed himself to look to Chris's crotch, the sure sight of an erection heavy in his jeans made Bill's own swell in his pants. As hands reached the creases at the tops of Chris's thighs, Bill used his down-turned thumbs to drag upwards across Chris's balls as he watched intently for the reaction on his face. It didn't disappoint. Chris's eyes fluttered closed and his jaw slackened, a huff of breath blowing a hollow sound in his open mouth.
Bill smiled again and moved his right hand to palm at the very prominent bulge in Chris's jeans whilst his fingers quickly dealt with the button and zipper of his fly. Hooking his fingers in the creases of fabric at the hips, Bill eased Chris's pants down just enough, pleased to see a pristine pair of white boxers beneath with an opening that afforded him easy access. Reaching inside, he drew Chris's cock out and held it in his fist, risking a glance to see Chris look down at him and lick his lips. Bill mirrored the action, moistening his lips and dipping forward, taking Chris fully into his mouth.
“Fuck.” It was the first word Chris had spoken in several minutes, and Bill took it as a compliment. He was sure enough of his own abilities to know he'd picked up a few tricks down the years, and his tongue was treating Chris to at least three of them at that moment. Allowing his hands to roam upwards from Chris's groin, he rested his palms over defined hip-bones, fingers curling around his loins in a rhythmic message to Chris. Go on he urged with his fingers. Let go.
A little added encouragement was needed. A long, firm suck from the base to the very tip of Chris's cock stilled part-way on the return stroke with Bills lips resting just below the crown, the tiniest bobbing motion seeking to give Chris the impetus he needed. Bill felt fingers lightly touch the back of his head, urging him down, but Bill resisted. A twitch from the hips was countered by Bill moving backwards, teasing, lips remaining in the exact same spot. Chris let out a groan of frustration and the fingers on Bill's hair turned to palms, holding his head steady as Chris thrust upwards into his mouth.
Bill groaned as Chris's cock hit the back of his throat. People around him never tired of telling him he didn't act his age, but God, he'd missed the vitality of a real youthful presence. Moving his hands down from Chris's hips, he pushed his palms under his body and grabbed handfuls of Chris's taut buttocks, feeling them contract and release under his grip. Sucking firmly, Bill could feel saliva smearing across his lips as Chris slipped quickly over his tongue. He threw in a couple more tricks he knew had left many a young man at his mercy in the past and felt his stomach flip as a litany of gasps and groans and some oaths that would make a sailor blush poured from Chris's mouth. Bill knew it would be over soon, and savored every last thrust into his throat, sensing the increase in speed and erratic urgency as Chris approached his climax. A few more blissful seconds passed and Bill felt Chris's thighs and buttocks tense under his arms and hands, stomach muscles contracting to propel him upright in his chair as he came with a load moan, filling Bill's mouth with spurts of bitter salt.
Chris collapsed back against the chair cushions as Bill gently withdrew. He sat back on his heels and drank in Chris's expression, softened by the orgasm, flushed pink across the cheeks, and committed it to memory. It only lasted a few precious moments before Chris regained his senses, a look of shock replacing the satiety as he looked down and fumbled with his fly with hasty, embarrassed fingers.
Bill placed one hand on Chris's knee and squeezed it gently to attract his attention. Chris stopped fumbling for a second, hands stilled over his zipper, and returned Bill's gaze. “I don't want you to think that was anything more than it was, Christopher”, Bill said quietly. “I admired you from the second I received your letter and when we met you were so gracious, not to mention so damned handsome.” He paused. “I wanted to do that for you, Christopher. Nothing more.”
Chris smiled down at him and placed a hand on top of Bill's. “Thank you, Bill” he said without hesitation. “You have no idea how much your admiration means to me”.
Pairing: A little pairing I've decided to call B-Fine, because no-one can stop me. AKA William Shatner/Chris Pine. You heard me.
Wordcount: 3,408
Rating: R
Warnings: Nothing for graphic content as such. Just be aware of the fact that it switches point of view from Bill to Chris and back again several times. I hope it doesn't make people seasick.
Summary: Chris wasn't sure if he was reading this wrong, and he felt ridiculous thinking it but... Was Shatner hitting on him?
Writer's notes: Inspired by the
trek_rpf_kink meme, the prompt was simply "Shatner blowing Captain Fine". Anon went on to say "I realise it is probably pointless to even ask for this because nobody else is as fucked up as I am". I beg to differ, BB.This took ages to write. The dialogue flowed pretty naturally and then the segue to smut failed me. I was spurred by another commenter saying they might fill the prompt and suddenly the fic was finished. In about half an hour. Amazing what the fear of being usurped will do for both inspiration and motivation. Unbeta'd because, let's be fair, who would?
Chris had been so grateful to William Shatner for his response to his first contact about the role when he was cast as Kirk. Truth be told, in addition to his understandable excitement he had been more than a little bit daunted about taking on such an iconic role from such an iconic actor. Even though he hadn't been much of a fan of Star Trek before he was cast, you would need to have spent your lifetime under a rock not to know about Shatner and his creation of such an enormous character. They really were some huge boots that Chris had to fill, and even Shatner's acknowledgment had meant the world to Chris.
What Chris hadn't been expecting was how warmly he would be received when they first met at a charity event after the movie launched. Chris had approached him with trepidation at first, but Shatner had beamed at him and made him feel so, so worthy. It had made Chris's heart pound and his mouth dry like parchment, and when a meeting after the party was suggested to allow them more time for them to talk, Chris had beamed like a kid at Christmas.
Bill had suggested they meet at his home. It made sense, he told himself, since Chris was being followed by the paparazzi like rats follow the Pied Piper since the movie had been released. Anywhere they met in public they would be harassed and followed, he reasoned. What he couldn't even quite admit to himself yet was why he wanted Chris somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted.
Pacing in the den, Bill felt like an anxious teenager waiting for Chris to ring the doorbell. Hell, the boy reminded him so much of himself at that age. But that's all he was, really. Just a boy. And the mere thought of being so, so intrigued by someone who was just shy of 50 years younger than him... When they'd first met, Chris had called him Mr Shatner for heaven's sake.
Shuddering, he shrugged off the thought and set about busying himself with paperwork.
Arriving precisely five minutes early, Chris paced outside the huge door at the front of a huge house, feeling very small indeed. He wasn't even that sure whether he'd be able to talk coherently when he got inside, or what they would talk about. It was too late for them to talk character really – he had already sealed the deal on his portrayal of Kirk and even though he hoped Shatner wasn't mortally offended by his characterization there was very little he could do to alter it now. But deep down he did crave approval. The way Shatner's face had lit up when Chris met him that first time replayed in his head and made his stomach flip over.
Running his fingers through his hair and testing his grin reflected in the door's window pane, he pressed the doorbell and waited for a response. A couple of minutes of silence followed and, doubting he had the right time, the right day, the right house, Chris wrestled with whether he should ring again or leave and check the details. Raising a finger to press the brass bell button again, the door swung open revealing Shatner, dressed in pale slacks and an open-necked polo shirt, beaming a winning grin.
“Chris! How are ya?” he intoned cheerfully, sweeping a grand gesture with his arm. “Please, come in! Come in!”
Stepping over the threshold, Chris took in the entrance hall with his mouth slightly agape: marble tiles on the floor led to a wide curving staircase leading up onto a balcony-style landing. The high ceiling was painted white and reflected bright light into the cavernous lobby from the huge picture window on the landing, illuminating the artwork on the walls and seemingly leaving no shadows. As he pulled himself together a little and closed his mouth, Chris glanced to see his host standing next to him. “You have a really nice home, Mr Shatner” he started.
Making a scoffing noise, Shatner took Chris's elbow and steered him through the lobby. “Chris, please. Call me Bill. Everyone does.”
“Thanks, Bill” Chris replied, trying to suppress the nervousness in his voice.
“Excellent!” Shatner chimed merrily. “Now, what can I get you to drink?”
“I'll take a beer if you've got one, sir... I mean Bill” he replied, inwardly castigating himself for slipping on the name again so soon. Shatner grinned broadly. “I'm sure that can be arranged. Come with me.”
Settled into a pair of easy chairs, they faced each other in the den. Bill's eyes took in the man sitting squarely opposite him: feet planted some distance apart; knees at an acute angle; beer bottle cradled in both hands in front of his crotch, thumbs stroking the condensation from the neck of the bottle absent-mindedly as he licked his lips and cocked his head to the side, looking at Bill with a question in his eyes. “So, I hope you don't mind my asking, but how did you feel when you heard that they were making the movie with the original characters and a new cast? I mean, the role of Kirk must've been a defining role for you. How did you feel about it?”
Bill took an even breath, considering the question. “To be honest, Christopher, it felt a little odd. All my life I've been followed by Kirk. He's been a Godsend for me, he's made my career, my life, what it is today. But I can't help but feel strange with someone else playing with something that I'd always considered to be mine.” He paused, taking a long sip of his iced tea. “My first feeling was that I was gonna hate whatever young buck they drafted in to replace me!” he laughed, noting the way that Chris's brow furrowed with discomfort. “But when I received your letter I found it really hard to be mad at someone who had taken on the mantle and the responsibility so considerately.” Shifting forwards in his seat, he propped his elbows on his knees and looked at Chris with an unfaltering gaze. “What I wasn't expecting was to find someone who was so much like I was at your age.”
Chris shifted in his chair slightly and pushed out his bottom lip. “Really? You think I'm like you? In what way?”
“Oh, I don't mean that as in they only cast you because you're like me. What I mean is that your spirit, your fire, your enthusiasm, they all put me in mind of myself when I was still in my twenties.” Bill took another sip of his drink. “Doesn't do any harm to my ego that they chose to cast someone so goddamned handsome either”. He chuckled and settled back into his chair, watching Chris's expressions closely, seeing a myriad of emotions playing across his face.
“Thanks.” Chris took a long swill of his beer. Bill watched the way he rested the rim of the bottle against his lower lip and opened his mouth to pour the liquid over his tongue. Transfixed, it took shaking himself mentally to focus on what he should say next.
“So tell me, Chris. How are you coping with the attention now your career's gone stellar? If you'll pardon the pun.”
“It's kinda weird” Chris admitted. “I mean, this isn't the first movie role I've had, but it's the first one that's bought me this kind of notice. Seriously, the dudes that hang around outside my apartment and wait for me to go get coffee so they can snap me in my sweats? That's odd.”
“Y'see, that's a lot different to how things were in my day.”
“How so?”
“Well, when I started out as Kirk, no-one gave a damn about Star Trek or science fiction in general. There wasn't paparazzi then like there is now, or all the gossip there is now about actors and their personal lives. It was a real good role for me to get, a steady job, but at the back of my mind I did worry I'd be stuck with that role for the rest of my life. Not that I minded any. It was a great show to be involved with. It set me up for life”.
Chris nodded. ”But you did alright, though? I love the other stuff you've done. I loved watching re-runs of TJ Hooker when I was a kid!”
Re-runs, Bill echoed in his mind, trying not to think how young Chris must have been when he recorded those shows. “Well, thank you. That means a lot. A young audience is usually the most critical.”
“Well, I really mean it.”
A silence swelled, not uncomfortably for Bill, whose eyes followed Chris's own gaze to his fingers caressing the bottle between his thighs.
“I presume you've been taking full advantage of the privileges of your position though?” Bill asked. “I would imagine you've not been short of offers since the film opened?”
“You mean for work? Well I've been in the theater and that's been going really well, and I've got another movie coming out soon...”
“That's not really what I meant, no.” Bill smiled. “I meant offers of a more... personal nature.”
“Oh. Oh!” Chris flushed a little. “Well I've had a lot of attention from female fans. And a few male ones too, actually. But no. I've actually been finding it difficult to see anyone recently with the fact I seem to have a pack of paps permanently stationed outside my apartment. I don't want to drag anyone else into my crazy world right now.”
“Ah well that's a shame, Christopher” Bill said, sitting forward in his seat and fixing him with a direct look. “Because a good-looking, talented guy like you should get the adulation you deserve.” A look passed over Chris's face, one that said he was trying to process Bill's intentions, and Bill waited a few more seconds to let the possibilities filter into Chris's consciousness before standing up. “I'm going to get another. Beer?”
Chris faltered for a second before responding. “Um, yeah. That'd be good, thanks.”
Before Chris could hold out his spent beer bottle for Bill to take, Bill reached down and grasped the neck of it, circling it with his thumb and forefinger, and dragged it across Chris's crotch as he took it and taking a split second to watch a spark fire in Chris's eyes before walking to the kitchen.
Chris wasn't sure if he was reading this wrong, and he felt ridiculous thinking it but... Was Shatner hitting on him? The thought had occurred to him at the end of his first bottle of beer, but he'd dismissed it. Now three more bottles – or was it four? - had gone and he was certain that the look with which he was being appraised could best be described as hungry. He wasn't sure what bothered him more: the possibility that a guy, a guy old enough to be his grandfather for fuck's sake, seemed to be putting the moves on him; or the fact that he wanted so much not to be mistaken. It was crazy just how good it felt to have Shatner's approval. He felt like a schoolboy trying to impress his favorite teacher, and the more his responses got a favorable reaction, the more he wanted to please.
He shook his head inwardly, trying to shrug off the sense that Shatner's pose, leaning forward with head cocked to the side combined with questions that sounded more suggestive than the words alone, would indicate he was being propositioned. It didn't make sense, but through the giddiness of afternoon drinking Chris could hear himself responding in a way he knew was flirtatious. It might be a good idea to get out before I make a total ass of myself, he thought, glancing at his watch.
“You have somewhere you need to be?” Shatner asked. Chris was sure he looked a little disappointed.
“Yeah. I mean, no. Not really. I just don't want to take up too much of your time. I know you must be really busy and it's been so great of you to spend as much of your afternoon with me as you have already...”
Shatner raised his palm and cut Chris off before he could finish. “Then if you have nowhere else to be and you're happy to continue to indulge me, please don't think of leaving. I have nothing better to be doing right now than you”.
Chris blinked slowly, taking in the statement. There was a silence, and ample time for Shatner to take it back, or explain himself, but he didn't. Instead he sat looking at Chris, a smile creasing the corners of eyes twinkling with mischief. Although he knew he might well live to regret it, Chris swallowed down the butterflies in his stomach and replied “I can't think of anything I'd rather do right now, either.”
In a heartbeat, Shatner was out of his seat and advancing towards Chris. He wanted to move, but for what? To get out? To meet Shatner half-way? But what then? Kiss him? The thought seemed ridiculous but somehow he wanted to. The time he spent thinking it through, his mind working a little more slowly than usual, was long enough for Shatner to be standing beside him. He swallowed hard and kept his head down, swiveling his eyes to look up at Shatner looming above him and feeling his heartbeat in his throat. What now? The desirous look in the eyes regarding him was more intoxicating than the god-knows-how-many beers he'd drunk on an empty stomach and for as long as he felt this good about being wanted, he didn't want it to stop.
Shatner reached down and ran his hand through Chris's hair affectionately. A ruffle, almost like one would with a favorite nephew. Chris swallowed again. Maybe that was it? It was just affection and Chris had misread the signals. But Shatner didn't stop. Instead he disappeared from sight behind low-backed chair and Chris felt fingers trail from his scalp to the nape of his neck, halting the breath in his throat. He felt like a stunned animal, afraid to move in case this stopped or he woke up because this surely couldn't be real. The fingers working across his clavicle exposed by his v-neck tee definitely felt real, and goosebumps sprung up in the wake of featherlight fingertips lightly retreating back around around his neck as Shatner continued his slow circuit. Chris found himself leaning in to the touch, brushing his cheek against Shatner's forearm as his eyes closed.
Once the lap was complete, Bill stood between Chris's splayed knees. The sight before him of Chris with head bowed, eyes half-closed and lips parted, was delicious. Bill grabbed a cushion that Chris has tossed off the chair and dropped it on the ground, sinking to his knees between Chris' thighs. Chris's eyes opened and Bill found himself fixed with a look of confusion. He was sure he hadn't misread Chris's reaction, but wanted to give him chance to back out if he wanted.
Placing his palms on Chris's knees, he returned the gaze with an open look, leaving several moments for Chris to protest or move him away. He didn't. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he slowly ran his hands up Chris's denim-clad thighs, thumbs dropped between them as they made their ascent to the apex. Finally he allowed himself to look to Chris's crotch, the sure sight of an erection heavy in his jeans made Bill's own swell in his pants. As hands reached the creases at the tops of Chris's thighs, Bill used his down-turned thumbs to drag upwards across Chris's balls as he watched intently for the reaction on his face. It didn't disappoint. Chris's eyes fluttered closed and his jaw slackened, a huff of breath blowing a hollow sound in his open mouth.
Bill smiled again and moved his right hand to palm at the very prominent bulge in Chris's jeans whilst his fingers quickly dealt with the button and zipper of his fly. Hooking his fingers in the creases of fabric at the hips, Bill eased Chris's pants down just enough, pleased to see a pristine pair of white boxers beneath with an opening that afforded him easy access. Reaching inside, he drew Chris's cock out and held it in his fist, risking a glance to see Chris look down at him and lick his lips. Bill mirrored the action, moistening his lips and dipping forward, taking Chris fully into his mouth.
“Fuck.” It was the first word Chris had spoken in several minutes, and Bill took it as a compliment. He was sure enough of his own abilities to know he'd picked up a few tricks down the years, and his tongue was treating Chris to at least three of them at that moment. Allowing his hands to roam upwards from Chris's groin, he rested his palms over defined hip-bones, fingers curling around his loins in a rhythmic message to Chris. Go on he urged with his fingers. Let go.
A little added encouragement was needed. A long, firm suck from the base to the very tip of Chris's cock stilled part-way on the return stroke with Bills lips resting just below the crown, the tiniest bobbing motion seeking to give Chris the impetus he needed. Bill felt fingers lightly touch the back of his head, urging him down, but Bill resisted. A twitch from the hips was countered by Bill moving backwards, teasing, lips remaining in the exact same spot. Chris let out a groan of frustration and the fingers on Bill's hair turned to palms, holding his head steady as Chris thrust upwards into his mouth.
Bill groaned as Chris's cock hit the back of his throat. People around him never tired of telling him he didn't act his age, but God, he'd missed the vitality of a real youthful presence. Moving his hands down from Chris's hips, he pushed his palms under his body and grabbed handfuls of Chris's taut buttocks, feeling them contract and release under his grip. Sucking firmly, Bill could feel saliva smearing across his lips as Chris slipped quickly over his tongue. He threw in a couple more tricks he knew had left many a young man at his mercy in the past and felt his stomach flip as a litany of gasps and groans and some oaths that would make a sailor blush poured from Chris's mouth. Bill knew it would be over soon, and savored every last thrust into his throat, sensing the increase in speed and erratic urgency as Chris approached his climax. A few more blissful seconds passed and Bill felt Chris's thighs and buttocks tense under his arms and hands, stomach muscles contracting to propel him upright in his chair as he came with a load moan, filling Bill's mouth with spurts of bitter salt.
Chris collapsed back against the chair cushions as Bill gently withdrew. He sat back on his heels and drank in Chris's expression, softened by the orgasm, flushed pink across the cheeks, and committed it to memory. It only lasted a few precious moments before Chris regained his senses, a look of shock replacing the satiety as he looked down and fumbled with his fly with hasty, embarrassed fingers.
Bill placed one hand on Chris's knee and squeezed it gently to attract his attention. Chris stopped fumbling for a second, hands stilled over his zipper, and returned Bill's gaze. “I don't want you to think that was anything more than it was, Christopher”, Bill said quietly. “I admired you from the second I received your letter and when we met you were so gracious, not to mention so damned handsome.” He paused. “I wanted to do that for you, Christopher. Nothing more.”
Chris smiled down at him and placed a hand on top of Bill's. “Thank you, Bill” he said without hesitation. “You have no idea how much your admiration means to me”.
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