fic: yes, i'm smiling (4/?)
pairing: Chris/Darren
word count: 1100+
rating: nc-17
summary: Chris is a firm believer in ‘write what you know’. Darren is a method actor. neither of them have relationship experience. they decide to help each other out, but what happens when the lines begin to blur and they create characters of each other? AU
a/n: thanks to my baby girl Jordan for beta-ing and Janni and Jacar for making me cry ;_;
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
-
Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?
Let me do it right for once
-rs
Darren’s mouth dropped open in immediate surprise and before he could even smile, Chris was yelping over him.
“Ground rules! We need ground rules.”
Darren nodded quickly. “Ground rules,” he said seriously, schooling his expression, “good. Yes. We need those.”
Chris closed his eyes for a moment under the guise of thinking, trying to catch his stilted breath. God, he was going to regret this…
“So I’ve never been in a relationship before…” he reminded Darren slowly.
“Neither have I!” Darren exclaimed. “Or… well… with a guy, anyway.”
“I can assure you,” Chris said dryly, “it’s a bit different.”
“Different organs,” Darren said with a shrug, “same principles.”
“I guess you’re going to have to guide me through this, then,” Chris said grudgingly, folding his arms in resignation.
“I’ve been told I’m a good teacher,” Darren said loftily.
“I’ve been told you were a pretentious douchebag,” Chris said with a shrug. Darren’s mouth fell agape in mock outrage.
“I thought I told you not to listen to Dylan after he’s been drinking!” Darren cried, grabbing Chris around the waist and whirling him around, making Chris yelp in sudden surprise.
“I think someone else has been drinking too much,” he gasped. Darren laughed in his ear, rich and warm, the sound melting through Chris’s entire body until he felt it curling in his toes.
“No,” Darren said, grinning ear to ear, “just enough to make me feel warm - and happy - and excited,” he yelled, squeezing Chris’s sides once more before letting go.
Chris was shocked at how much he missed his immediate warmth.
“I’m drunk on you, Chris Colfer,” Darren told him seriously before breaking out into another fit of giggles “I’m drunk on you and you haven’t even kissed me yet!”
Chris felt something odd and nervous flitter in his stomach as his eyes immediately drifted to the stretched slope of Darren’s mouth and the thought of actually kissing Darren settled in his mind.
Warm.
He’d kiss him warm.
“So what do you kiss like Chris Colfer?” Darren asked, his voice both sing song and curious.
Chris considered the best way to answer before a smirk melted over his lips.
“Ah I could tell you that…” he teased, “but I won’t. I’ve got to keep some mystery about myself - you know, spoiler alert and all.” He gave a little hand gesture that Darren awarded with a bemused smile.
“You know, I’m pretty sure I’ll never fully figure you out Chris…” he said musingly, “you’re a puzzle that doesn’t want to be solved.”
Chris had no answer but his suddenly sad thoughts.
Yeah.
That about summed it up.
-
As she promised, Naya wasn’t home when he returned and he turned the light on to an almost lonely apartment. He toed off his shoes and hung up his jacket, fully prepared to just lie down and sleep until had to leave for school in the morning.
But his body was still buzzing from his date - no, not a date - with Darren and he was too restless to sleep just yet.
He considered his bookshelf - technically it was Naya’s bookcase, but she never read so all the books were his. She had been using it as a shoe storage area until he moved in.
Sighing a little as he thumbed over his favourite novels he was once more faced with the very reasoning that so prominently influenced his decision to accept Darren’s proposal.
All the great books on his shelf - what did they have in common?
Atonement… The Princess Bride… god, even The Lord of the Rings - they all had the common theme as romance, whether it was the apex or subplot it was just always there.
And when Chris looked back to his own writings…
Nada.
Hadn’t it always been his goal to attain as much life experience as possible?
How could he have said no?
And he would have been lying if he said that Darren didn’t factor in at all. The man was strange and forward and annoyingly chivalrous, but there was just something so very compelling about him.
Letting out a soft sigh, he snuck his tattered copy of Fight Club out between the shelves and plopped down on his bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes as he got comfortable, flicking open to page one.
He had to start somewhere.
-
The next morning he went through the motions as if life was going on as usual. Naya wasn’t back before he left but the sun was just hitting the sky so it really wasn’t a surprise.
He liked to leave early. The first morning hours were his favourites, but usually he liked to see those before he slept. Those hours caught between morning and night, when the air was clear and fresh and still and so achingly quiet.
He wanted to trap those hours in a jar and bring them out when he felt sad.
And lonely.
(Those hours are lonely too. If he could keep them they could be lonely together).
He had his creative writing class that morning and he was practically buzzing with excitement. The teacher said he was going to give them a few short story tasks over the next few weeks, just for a quick assessment of their ability and style and what they needed to work on, what was good, what was working, all before he handed out the major task for their term grade.
He stopped by a small coffeehouse by the college on his way, drinking down his caramel macchiato eagerly as they minutes ticked by.
He arrived to class not quiet early enough to be strictly early, but on time enough to get a good seat. He sat near the lovely looking girl he had sat by on his first day.
Dianna smiled as he took his seat, giving him a small, demure wave.
“Morning, Chris,” she greeted him cheerily and he smiled back.
A smile was good.
His teacher arrived moments later, greeting the class with his usual loud, rich voice, the one that immediately seized the entire class’s attention, holding it in his own breath.
The lecture went on and Chris listened attentively, taking notes when necessary, his thoughts never wavering.
At the end of the class, he delivered their mini assignment (due the next morning!) and Chris’s stomach fluttered nervously as he took his on the way out (they each got their own separate ones, drawn randomly), opening it eagerly once he was out of the building, holding a hand over his eyes to veil it from the sunshine glaring across the campus grounds.
Write about something bigger than you.
Chris lifted an eyebrow, musing over the words thoughtfully when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
It was Darren.
Got any dinner plans?
Chris chuckled softly, shaking his head, shooting back a reply of: i’m sure I can fit you in ;) before blushing furiously as he realised the connotations that might lay behind that.
Before he could send anything else, however, Darren buzzed back.
I was hoping you’d say that…
He refused to read any more into that.
-
He met him at a different restaurant this time, one of his choosing. The tables were turned entirely and Chris arrived first, instantly pulling out his notepad and penning out smattered fragments of whatever words came to his mind as he waited.
Darren arrived ten minutes late, cheeks flushed, script in hand, eyes bright. His lips broke out into a grin as he spotted Chris and Chris was left wondering that the entire restaurant didn’t turn as he bounded over, simply from the blinding exuberance he radiated.
“Sorry I’m late,” he greeted him, a little breathlessly as he fell into the seat opposite him, leaning in on his forearms over the table, pushing the script towards him. “Long running rehearsal.”
“How’s that going?” Chris asked, putting his notebook and pen away with a private smile.
“Amazing,” Darren gushed. “The script… the actors…. This play, man… fucking fantastic.”
“So…” Chris couldn’t help but press, “you wanted to talk about something?”
“What if I told you I just wanted to spend time with you?” Darren asked softly, pressing his cheek into his palm.
Chris raised an eyebrow, grinning slightly. “I’d tell you, you were full of shit.”
Darren laughed, and Chris had to admire the lovely arch of his throat as he tipped his head back, the sound pouring from his mouth so unabashedly loud and genuine that he felt warm and pleasant all over.
His laugh was so big, so loud and unreserved.
Just like the rest of him.
“I did want to spend more time with you,” Darren said honestly once he’d sobered, leaning forward again, “but I thought if you were still serious about the boyfriend thing, that was sort of a prerequisite.” He winked. “So I brought over my script so you could get a better idea of the character and the relationship they have. Its kinda new, kinda sweet - Peter, my character, is this really groovy dude, who’s kinda goofy and fun but really smart and deep on the outside and goes through this big awesome self-discovery thing that I really dig.”
Chris fought a musing smile as he flipped through the first few pages of the script, his eyes ghosting over Peter’s lines wryly.
He couldn’t help but wonder how long Darren had actually been in character.
word count: 1100+
rating: nc-17
summary: Chris is a firm believer in ‘write what you know’. Darren is a method actor. neither of them have relationship experience. they decide to help each other out, but what happens when the lines begin to blur and they create characters of each other? AU
a/n: thanks to my baby girl Jordan for beta-ing and Janni and Jacar for making me cry ;_;
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
-
Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?
Let me do it right for once
-rs
Darren’s mouth dropped open in immediate surprise and before he could even smile, Chris was yelping over him.
“Ground rules! We need ground rules.”
Darren nodded quickly. “Ground rules,” he said seriously, schooling his expression, “good. Yes. We need those.”
Chris closed his eyes for a moment under the guise of thinking, trying to catch his stilted breath. God, he was going to regret this…
“So I’ve never been in a relationship before…” he reminded Darren slowly.
“Neither have I!” Darren exclaimed. “Or… well… with a guy, anyway.”
“I can assure you,” Chris said dryly, “it’s a bit different.”
“Different organs,” Darren said with a shrug, “same principles.”
“I guess you’re going to have to guide me through this, then,” Chris said grudgingly, folding his arms in resignation.
“I’ve been told I’m a good teacher,” Darren said loftily.
“I’ve been told you were a pretentious douchebag,” Chris said with a shrug. Darren’s mouth fell agape in mock outrage.
“I thought I told you not to listen to Dylan after he’s been drinking!” Darren cried, grabbing Chris around the waist and whirling him around, making Chris yelp in sudden surprise.
“I think someone else has been drinking too much,” he gasped. Darren laughed in his ear, rich and warm, the sound melting through Chris’s entire body until he felt it curling in his toes.
“No,” Darren said, grinning ear to ear, “just enough to make me feel warm - and happy - and excited,” he yelled, squeezing Chris’s sides once more before letting go.
Chris was shocked at how much he missed his immediate warmth.
“I’m drunk on you, Chris Colfer,” Darren told him seriously before breaking out into another fit of giggles “I’m drunk on you and you haven’t even kissed me yet!”
Chris felt something odd and nervous flitter in his stomach as his eyes immediately drifted to the stretched slope of Darren’s mouth and the thought of actually kissing Darren settled in his mind.
Warm.
He’d kiss him warm.
“So what do you kiss like Chris Colfer?” Darren asked, his voice both sing song and curious.
Chris considered the best way to answer before a smirk melted over his lips.
“Ah I could tell you that…” he teased, “but I won’t. I’ve got to keep some mystery about myself - you know, spoiler alert and all.” He gave a little hand gesture that Darren awarded with a bemused smile.
“You know, I’m pretty sure I’ll never fully figure you out Chris…” he said musingly, “you’re a puzzle that doesn’t want to be solved.”
Chris had no answer but his suddenly sad thoughts.
Yeah.
That about summed it up.
-
As she promised, Naya wasn’t home when he returned and he turned the light on to an almost lonely apartment. He toed off his shoes and hung up his jacket, fully prepared to just lie down and sleep until had to leave for school in the morning.
But his body was still buzzing from his date - no, not a date - with Darren and he was too restless to sleep just yet.
He considered his bookshelf - technically it was Naya’s bookcase, but she never read so all the books were his. She had been using it as a shoe storage area until he moved in.
Sighing a little as he thumbed over his favourite novels he was once more faced with the very reasoning that so prominently influenced his decision to accept Darren’s proposal.
All the great books on his shelf - what did they have in common?
Atonement… The Princess Bride… god, even The Lord of the Rings - they all had the common theme as romance, whether it was the apex or subplot it was just always there.
And when Chris looked back to his own writings…
Nada.
Hadn’t it always been his goal to attain as much life experience as possible?
How could he have said no?
And he would have been lying if he said that Darren didn’t factor in at all. The man was strange and forward and annoyingly chivalrous, but there was just something so very compelling about him.
Letting out a soft sigh, he snuck his tattered copy of Fight Club out between the shelves and plopped down on his bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes as he got comfortable, flicking open to page one.
He had to start somewhere.
-
The next morning he went through the motions as if life was going on as usual. Naya wasn’t back before he left but the sun was just hitting the sky so it really wasn’t a surprise.
He liked to leave early. The first morning hours were his favourites, but usually he liked to see those before he slept. Those hours caught between morning and night, when the air was clear and fresh and still and so achingly quiet.
He wanted to trap those hours in a jar and bring them out when he felt sad.
And lonely.
(Those hours are lonely too. If he could keep them they could be lonely together).
He had his creative writing class that morning and he was practically buzzing with excitement. The teacher said he was going to give them a few short story tasks over the next few weeks, just for a quick assessment of their ability and style and what they needed to work on, what was good, what was working, all before he handed out the major task for their term grade.
He stopped by a small coffeehouse by the college on his way, drinking down his caramel macchiato eagerly as they minutes ticked by.
He arrived to class not quiet early enough to be strictly early, but on time enough to get a good seat. He sat near the lovely looking girl he had sat by on his first day.
Dianna smiled as he took his seat, giving him a small, demure wave.
“Morning, Chris,” she greeted him cheerily and he smiled back.
A smile was good.
His teacher arrived moments later, greeting the class with his usual loud, rich voice, the one that immediately seized the entire class’s attention, holding it in his own breath.
The lecture went on and Chris listened attentively, taking notes when necessary, his thoughts never wavering.
At the end of the class, he delivered their mini assignment (due the next morning!) and Chris’s stomach fluttered nervously as he took his on the way out (they each got their own separate ones, drawn randomly), opening it eagerly once he was out of the building, holding a hand over his eyes to veil it from the sunshine glaring across the campus grounds.
Write about something bigger than you.
Chris lifted an eyebrow, musing over the words thoughtfully when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
It was Darren.
Got any dinner plans?
Chris chuckled softly, shaking his head, shooting back a reply of: i’m sure I can fit you in ;) before blushing furiously as he realised the connotations that might lay behind that.
Before he could send anything else, however, Darren buzzed back.
I was hoping you’d say that…
He refused to read any more into that.
-
He met him at a different restaurant this time, one of his choosing. The tables were turned entirely and Chris arrived first, instantly pulling out his notepad and penning out smattered fragments of whatever words came to his mind as he waited.
Darren arrived ten minutes late, cheeks flushed, script in hand, eyes bright. His lips broke out into a grin as he spotted Chris and Chris was left wondering that the entire restaurant didn’t turn as he bounded over, simply from the blinding exuberance he radiated.
“Sorry I’m late,” he greeted him, a little breathlessly as he fell into the seat opposite him, leaning in on his forearms over the table, pushing the script towards him. “Long running rehearsal.”
“How’s that going?” Chris asked, putting his notebook and pen away with a private smile.
“Amazing,” Darren gushed. “The script… the actors…. This play, man… fucking fantastic.”
“So…” Chris couldn’t help but press, “you wanted to talk about something?”
“What if I told you I just wanted to spend time with you?” Darren asked softly, pressing his cheek into his palm.
Chris raised an eyebrow, grinning slightly. “I’d tell you, you were full of shit.”
Darren laughed, and Chris had to admire the lovely arch of his throat as he tipped his head back, the sound pouring from his mouth so unabashedly loud and genuine that he felt warm and pleasant all over.
His laugh was so big, so loud and unreserved.
Just like the rest of him.
“I did want to spend more time with you,” Darren said honestly once he’d sobered, leaning forward again, “but I thought if you were still serious about the boyfriend thing, that was sort of a prerequisite.” He winked. “So I brought over my script so you could get a better idea of the character and the relationship they have. Its kinda new, kinda sweet - Peter, my character, is this really groovy dude, who’s kinda goofy and fun but really smart and deep on the outside and goes through this big awesome self-discovery thing that I really dig.”
Chris fought a musing smile as he flipped through the first few pages of the script, his eyes ghosting over Peter’s lines wryly.
He couldn’t help but wonder how long Darren had actually been in character.