There's A New Game [RPF] (R)
Author: Oddreigh
Title: There’s a New Game (Made To Be Broken 1/10)
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,300
Pairing: Chris/Darren. Kind of. ;)
Warning(s): Domination and submission.
Spoilers: Oh dear god, no.
Summary: Chris finds something unexpected while at Darren’s. Darren is mortified, but in a really good way.
Notes: This ‘verse is going to be, by far, the kinkiest stuff I’ve ever written. It was totally inspired by a conversation I had with a friend a few weeks ago, and it’s been clawing its way out little by little ever since. This could almost be seen as the series prologue, since there’s just. so. much. talking. and the smut won’t really kick in until the next installment. Trust me though - there will be smut. Also, all items/devices mentioned are, in fact, real, and there are links to them at the end.
Some people plan out their entire lives to the minute. Most of the time, I am one of those people. I’ve always got something to work on, and knowing what I’m doing with my time is the only thing that keeps me sane, most days. I like knowing what’s going on and when and who’s going to be involved. Last minute changes drive me insane. I can’t stand inconsistencies, and I need to know where things stand at all times.
I’m not usually one for surprises, I guess, is what I’m trying to get at. They frequently make me uncomfortable. Especially surprises like this, and that’s probably why I’m still standing in Darren’s bathroom with my jaw halfway to the floor. From now on, I think “surprising” will be the word I use most when asked about him in interviews. Yes. Definitely ”surprising.”
“Man, you’ve been washing your hands for kind of a while now,” Darren’s voice comes from down the hall. “Are you o-“ he reaches the door with a grin on his face, and it quickly falls as he realizes that I’m staring into the bottom drawer of his bathroom vanity “-kay?”
Well. Isn’t this awkward? “I was looking for a hand towel,” I say in an attempt to explain. “I thought using the one hanging over the curtain rod would be a bit too personal.”
“Extra towels are in middle drawer,” he says hoarsely, wrapping his arms around himself and looking away like it’ll mean this isn’t happening. Like it’ll mean that I didn’t just stumble upon a drawer full of…well, yeah.
“Oh. Yes, yes. Middle. I should have known. I just went for the bottom because that’s where I keep mine, and I, yeah, I’m going to just shut up now and we’ll never talk about it again, okay?”
Darren gives a groan deep in the back of his throat and turns his head to face me, though he lowers his face into one of his hands and keeps his eyes closed. “We can’t do that, Chris. If we didn’t do most of our scenes together, maybe that would work, but we spend most of our time on set together, and it’s just going to suck if we’re always dancing around-“
“-the drawer full of sex toys in the middle of the room?” I finish for him, clearly failing in my brilliant attempts to lighten the mood.
“Yeah…that,” he says, and sinks to the floor against the wall. “Look. We’re both of us adults, so let’s just try and figure out the easiest way to get past this without me experiencing like, a thousand deaths of embarrassment, okay?”
“Darren,” I sigh, taking a seat on the floor. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. Your sex life is none of my business, and whatever you’re doing with whomever you’re doing with is not for me to judge, unless they’re underage. Or animals. Please tell me you’re not using those on puppies or kittens because if you are, I just don’t think we can continue being friends.”
He gives a small laugh, and for the first time since he found me in here, things are starting to feel a little normal. “No, I’m most definitely not using them on anyone” he stiffens “or anything that isn’t completely and totally legal. Promise.”
“Then why so embarrassed?” I ask. “I mean, I know I’d probably want to spontaneously realize I had the power of invisibility or teleportation or something like that if someone ran across something like that at my place, but it shouldn’t be a big deal for you. I mean, if someone found that in my apartment, they’d automatically assume that I was using them on my-“ and now, he’s backing against the wall like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him up alive and just like that, I get it. It’s just like the apple falling onto Newton’s head, only in my case, it’s less like an apple and more like a giant dildo. “Oh,” I hear myself saying, sounding about as intelligent as…well, something really unintelligent.
“Yeah,” he sighs, “oh.”
I know it’s terrible, but I can’t help but turn my head just enough to look down into the drawer and everything in it. There’s an assortment of what I can really only describe as “strappy things,” some beads, a bottle of lube, at least six dildos of different sizes, plus a couple of plugs, and - oh my god, is that a ball gag?
Breathe, Colfer. Just breathe. Close your eyes and think of England. Or mailmen. Crying puppies. Something. Anything. Just so long as it’s not Darren naked and on his knees and with his wrists tied to his ankles and with that gag stuffed into his mouth and hello, where did that image come from?
Breathe.
“Uh, Chris?” Darren ventures, his voice tight and strained. “Do you think you’d mind, maybe, putting that down?”
I’m really confused by this, until he flicks his eyes to my left hand and raises his eyebrows meaningfully. Looking down, I’m horrified to see that I’ve picked one of them up and have probably been holding it this whole time. Great. That’s not going to make this even weirder, or anything.
“Sorry,” I say, practically throwing it at him. He catches it easily, and I swear it’s like something out of some sort of pornographic relay race. The hundred dildo dash, maybe.
“S’ok,” he says, holding it against his chest and blushing just a little bit. “It’s just not something I usually let other people know about, you know?” He gives a little laugh as he leans further into the wall and drops his head a bit. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, but it’s that weird kind of “well, isn’t this a painfully awkward and regrettable moment that I’m praying you’ll forget about the second it’s finally over?” smile; not the bright one that usually fills his face. I’m so focused on it that it actually takes me a minute to realize that he’s not just holding the dildo; he’s rubbing that hand’s wrist softly back and forth against his chest, his thumb lightly stroking the dildo’s head.
I’m equal parts mortified, embarrassed, and turned on.
Okay, maybe a little more of that last one.
Neither one of us says anything, and after a few moments pass, it’s almost as if he’s forgotten I’m still in the room. He begins to stroke it more intently, clutching it closer and closer to his chest, his eyes still closed, but looking less embarrassed and more enthralled. There’s a hunger in his face that I’ve never really seen before, and if I’m being honest, I’m getting kind of enthralled, myself.
I don’t know that that’s really a good thing.
“So,” I pipe up, doing my best to sound casual “you’ve used all of these? Seriously?” He hums his confirmation, still stroking his thumb along the pinkish dildo in his hand and avoiding my gaze. “Variety is the spice of life,” I quip, flipping through the drawer and doing my best to not think about just where everything’s been, when I come across one that looks especially interesting. It’s got to be at least a foot long, and made of sleek green glass. “Even this one?” I ask, holding it gingerly near the middle.
Darren finally lifts his eyes toward me, and they grow large as they focus on the smooth column in my hand. “That one,” he says in a choked voice “is my favorite, actually.”
“Oh, come on, Darren. There’s no way you’re able to take all of this,” I say, spinning my wrist back and forth as if to show off just how big it is (though clearly, he’s already well familiar).
“Course not,” he says, half laughing. “It’s meant to be shared, so I only take about half of it. Sometimes more, if I’m feeling ambitious.”
The visual of him sharing it with some random girl flashes to mind, and I immediately drop it into my lap. “Well,” I say, trying my best to appear unfazed “they do say sharing is caring, so good on you for…caring so much.”
“Actually…” he says, looking a little nervous again “I haven’t shared it with anyone. Not yet, anyway. The internet may be full of girls who love seeing guys take it up the ass, but I have yet to find myself dating one.”
Okay, that’s kind of annoying. “Poor little Darren,” I say, rolling my eyes, “it must be so hard to find someone to have sex with when you’re young and straight and consistently referred to as one of the breakout heartthrobs of the year.”
“Hey,” he says, flicking his wrist toward me for emphasis without realizing that it means the dildo in his hand (which I’ve since decided is named “Howard,” just because giving it a name makes the whole situation a little easier to deal with) is now pointed directly at my chest “I’m not just talking about sex. Sex is easy. Either one of us could walk two blocks in any direction and come up with at least half a dozen people willing to have sex with us - it’s finding someone who wants the right kind of sex that’s the hard part.”
“There’s a right and a wrong kind?” I ask, my virginity clearly showing.
“Lots of girls out there who’d love to think they have a chance with you, man,” he says, finally realizing how he’s gesturing with Howard and cracking up as a result.
“Point taken,” I grin, leaning against the cupboard and flipping through the drawer a little more. “So, what do you consider the ‘right kind’ of sex - if you don’t mind my asking?”
Darren hums a little in his throat and tilts his head, looking out of me through one eye as the other screws tight. “Well, there’s the ass thing, for one. I’ve just always been a big fan of that, and lots of girls really aren’t down with it. I had one girl who seemed okay with it for a while, but she eventually freaked out about how it meant I was secretly a repressed homosexual who was only dating her because she was flat-chested enough that I could pretend she was a boy.” He shakes his head and gives a low laugh. “Clearly, she wasn’t as okay with it as she’d wanted me to think.”
“Not to sound insensitive, Darren, but I’m pretty sure you’ve still got it considerably easier than me. No one ever gave me a second look before Glee took off, and now, I never know if someone’s really interested in me, or if they’ve got some sick Kurt fetish. It’s kind of creepy, actually.”
“Shut your mouth, Colfer. You’re beautiful, and you know it.” Darren smiles and shakes his head a little. “Guys hit on you because you’re hot, not because you’re on Glee. If it didn’t happen before, it’s probably just because you were still growing into yourself. I mean, no offense, but you were still kind of a kid when the show started.” He fixes his eyes on me and gives what I’m guessing is his ”My name is Darren Criss, and it is my job to make everyone feel fabulous about themselves” smile. “Believe me, I get far more people telling me they’re jealous because I got to kiss you than Lea. Trust me, Chris, any problems you’re having in that department are entirely in your head.”
“Well…” I hesitate, debating whether telling him the other part will help him feel better about what he’s shared with me, or just double the awkward factor. “Let’s just say that I’ve got a couple of factors of my own to contend with, when finding the right kind, as you put it.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, suddenly intrigued and sliding Howard between circled fingers on both hands. “What’s your thing? Let me guess - total power bottom, am I right?”
I pull a face without meaning to and just shake my head. “Okay, Darren, you have to tell me - what the fuck is it about me that always makes people draw that conclusion?”
“I can’t really speak for anyone else, but personally…” he bites his lower lip for a second and flashes me a secret smile, “I guessed it because I think we can always tell our own.”
“You,” I begin, fixing him with a look that I just know is oozing with incredulity, “consider yourself a power bottom? Really?”
“Okay, okay,” he huffs a little, clutching Howard a little closer. “Maybe more on the bottom side than the power one. Still…I could easily see you falling into that role, and you have yet to confirm or deny.”
“Ughhh,” I groan, slumping forward and tapping another one of Darren’s dildos (this one made of clear glass with a rainbow swirl running through it - because even his sex toys have to be flamboyant, apparently) against the top of my head. “See, that’s the problem,” I say, gesturing toward him with the rainbow-streaked dildo, which I’ve now decided should be named Travis. (And really, what is it with me deciding all of Darren’s sex toys need names?) “Right there. Guys look at me, and they see this prissy little bottom bitch. Not once does anyone look at me and think, ‘hey, I’d love for him to chain me to the wall and make me call him Sir.’”
Darren’s face goes white, and the thought that that may have been too much suddenly crosses my mind. “You’re…a top?” he asks, looking so confused that you’d think he was channeling Brittany, or something. “Like, not just a top, but a dominant top????”
“Really, Darren, it’s not that surprising, is it? Or am I really such a delicate, wilting flower that the mere thought of me forcing Travis here down someone’s throat and telling them to suck it like the dirty fucking whore they are is just too ridiculous for words?”
“Travis?” he mutters confusedly, a crinkle forming between his brows as his eyes focus on it in my hand.
“Never mind about Travis,” I say. “I’m just trying to point out that as bad as you think you have it, you’re not the only one who’s got problems finding ‘the right kind’ of sex to suit you, and all things considered, I think you’ve got a better shot at solving your problems than I do mine.”
“So…” he hedges, scooting a little closer, eyes still focused on good ol’ Travis. “If you, you know, did find someone who was into that, what exactly would you say to them?”
The whole situation is kind of ridiculous, but he’s finally gotten over his embarrassment from before, so I decide to play along. After all, it’s not like I can really talk to anyone else about this. “First,” I begin, “I’d probably run it up and down his face, from crown to chin, and tell how obvious it was that he wanted to suck on it for me.”
“And then?” he urges, coming to his hands and knees and crawling still closer.
“And then…” I trail for a moment, “I’d probably just barely press it into his neck, not enough to do any damage, but enough to be uncomfortable, and make him tell me how much he wanted it.”
“And if he wanted it really bad?” Darren gasps, licking his lips and following Travis as I mime the actions I’m describing.
”He’s not implying…” I think to myself, purposely changing the pattern I’m tracing in the air with Travis to see that Darren’s continuing to follow it - and he is.
“How bad?” I ask, pointing Travis outward and stopping it just inches from his lips.
“So bad, Sir,” he whispers, and it’s like a jolt of awareness flows through me.
“Sir, he says. Well, well, well,” I think to myself, ”this suddenly got very interesting.”
Carefully, I move Travis closer and closer, until I finally bring it to rest against Darren’s cheek. “You like this, don’t you?” I ask him, dipping into a lower register than I normally use for speaking. He bobs his head up and down, tilting it to give me better access to the side Travis is touching. I flick my wrist just enough to make it tap against his face, and he gives a strangled groan as the contact is made.
“Please,” he whispers, “please, sir.” I run Travis along Darren’s face in random patterns, occasionally running it down and against his throat, watching his mouth fall a little more slack with every movement. When I finally slide it to his lower lip, he visibly shivers as a moan escapes his throat.
“Ask nicely,” I state calmly, my face a mask of indifference even though I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on.
“Please, Sir, let me suck it for you,” he rasps, and it takes me less than a second to slide at least half of the toy between his lips and back to his throat, my wrist giving a slight twist at the end to make sure he really feels it. His head falls back just a little, and his chest begins to rise and fall in a steady rhythm as his lips curl around Travis. From the way the other end moves in my hand, it’s clear that Darren’s really working it over with his tongue from inside his mouth. It keeps moving back and forth and just a little up and down, so I slide it in a little further, triggering another moan from the back of his throat.
I begin to thrust Travis in harder and faster, caring less about being gentle and more about forcing him to keep up with me. No matter how hard I give it to him, though, Darren just takes it. Hungrily bobbing after it and doing his best to accommodate it at whatever angle I force on him. I’m just getting into the groove of things when it occurs to me that I’ve finally found a hot guy who’s seemingly just dying to be my little bottom bitch, and he’s straight. Dear sweet god, what is my life? “Good boy,” I murmur, pulling Travis out of Darren’s mouth and running it lightly down the front of his shirt “but right now, I think we need to talk.”
“What?” he asks, face full of innocence.
“Look, Darren, that was…nice, I’m not going to lie. However, there is the elephant in the room to be dealt with here.
“But I thought we were okay with everything in the drawer, now. I mean, I’m over being embarrassed over it,” he says, shrugging a little and letting Howard fall to the floor, apparently forgotten while he was sucking on Travis.
“Yes, yes, but the drawer, I think, is the least of our issues, at this point. You just let me fuck your mouth with a rainbow-striped dildo, Darren. Doesn’t that strike you as slightly out of the ordinary? Possibly something that we might want to discuss and clarify?”
“Well…” he trails, a slight discomfort taking over his face again. “The way I see it, it’s kind of a win-win, really.” He falls back onto his haunches and drapes his arms over his knees, bouncing slightly on his heels. “I really like submitting to people, and you like ordering them around. I like having my ass violated a hundred ways from Sunday,” he laughs “and I’m guessing you’d be more than okay with doing that. I just don’t see why we can’t…play together.”
“Play?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Yeah, play. It’s pretty common activity in most fetish clubs - not that I’ve been to one before, though I looked into them before people really knew who I was. It’s like…sexual activity for the sake of it. Just for fun, you know? No strings attached, no romantic involvement, just both of us using the other for our respective kinks and hopefully being a little happier as a result. I mean, I trust you enough, and I’d like to think you feel like you can trust me.”
I lean back for a moment, taking all of this in. “So let me get this straight - you’re suggesting we become quasi-platonic ‘playmates,’ or something?”
“Well, yeah,” he responds, as if it makes perfect sense. “Think about it - we’re both free to pursue other people romantically, but we still get the option of getting down and dirty away from prying eyes. We already hang out a lot, so no one will think anything’s up if we’re spotted at the other’s place. By playing with each other, neither of us has to worry about someone taking us for a ride and ratting things out to some tabloid - or worse, Tumblr - and we have the added bonus of knowing that there’s already a solid foundation of trust and acceptance.” His face is absolutely beaming at this point, he’s so satisfied with himself. “It’s so perfect, it just seems like a shame we didn’t get it figured out sooner. Come on, Chris - what do you say?”
The way he’s talking, you’d think he was suggesting something as inconsequential as a potential duet for Kurt and Blaine - not letting me ram things up his ass until he cries. “I don’t know, Darren, it just seems like a bad idea waiting to happen.”
“No, Chris, really - haven’t you ever heard of ‘friends with benefits?’ It happens all the time. I’m pretty sure Lea and Cory had a similar arrangement when she and Theo broke up for a hot minute last winter.” He leans back a little, clearly confused about why I’m not leaping at the chance. “I just don’t see why you’re so hesitant about this. Lay down a few ground rules from the start, and I really don’t see what the problem is.”
“Darren…the problem is that you like girls,” I sigh, exasperated beyond words and resenting the fact that I’ve been forced to say anything about it at all.
“Yeah, so?” he asks, just as uncomprehendingly as before. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“I kind of have a cock, Darren. You know, just in case you forgot about that little detail. Not that it’s little, I mean.” Wince. Yeah, that wasn’t mildly embarrassing, or anything.
“Believe it or not, Chris, I’m very much aware that you’re a guy. I guess it just doesn’t really bother me for this, because it’s not like it’s about sex in any conventional terms. For me, the turn on is partially from being so completely vulnerable, and partially from seeing how much the other person likes using me. You seemed to enjoy watching me suck on that toy just now, so that made it better for me.” He shrugs, as if this all makes perfect sense.
“Okay…well, what about these ground rules you’re suggesting?”
“For starters,” he says, moving into Darren-the-responsible-and-no-nonsense-businessman mode “no kissing. I think that’s pretty much rule one. Not just because you’re a guy - you know I don’t have any problem with kissing you - but because it’s the wrong kind of intimacy for what we’re setting out to do. I mean, if I were doing this with someone I was dating, that’d be one thing, but if this is just a casual thing between friends…” I nod my head, fully grasping what he’s saying, and he seems relieved that he doesn’t have to explain himself further.
“Second rule,” I start, “you pretty much have to be naked for this to work, but I keep my clothes on, okay? One, because it’ll further emphasize the power imbalance, and two, because like you said, it’s the wrong kind of intimacy for this arrangement.”
“Fair enough,” Darren says. “Rule three - the second either of us starts seeing someone, this comes to an end.”
“Deal,” I say, giving Travis a little wave and pointing it at him. “Rule four, this stays at your house. I don’t want to run the risk of someone on the other side of a wall hearing anything they shouldn’t.”
“Rule five, when in my room or whatever spot of the house we’re playing, you’re the boss. The minute we step out of that, we’re total equals.”
“Agreed,” I nod, wracking my brain for anything else we should set in stone. “I think that’s about it, really. Oh, except rule six - no one knows about this.”
“Oh, totally,” Darren enthuses, “nobody’s business but our own.” He chuckles “can you imagine the reactions if anyone found out?”
“I think the internet would break,” I deadpan, because it’s totally the truth.
“Totally,” he laughs, his eyes locking on Travis once again. “So,” he purrs, lowering his head and peering at me through his lashes, “are you going to show me what else you can do with that, or do I have to beg?”
I tilt my head, a smile spreading across my lips and the wheels beginning to turn inside my head. “Give me a reason to, and I swear it’ll be worth your while.”
Featured in this story:
The dildo Chris first grabs from the drawer, and Darren later clutches to his chest. This is the one Chris refers to as “Howard.”
The green glass double-sized dildo that Darren claims is his favorite
The rainbow-swirled one Chris names Travis.
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Title: There’s a New Game (Made To Be Broken 1/10)
Rating: R
Word Count: 4,300
Pairing: Chris/Darren. Kind of. ;)
Warning(s): Domination and submission.
Spoilers: Oh dear god, no.
Summary: Chris finds something unexpected while at Darren’s. Darren is mortified, but in a really good way.
Notes: This ‘verse is going to be, by far, the kinkiest stuff I’ve ever written. It was totally inspired by a conversation I had with a friend a few weeks ago, and it’s been clawing its way out little by little ever since. This could almost be seen as the series prologue, since there’s just. so. much. talking. and the smut won’t really kick in until the next installment. Trust me though - there will be smut. Also, all items/devices mentioned are, in fact, real, and there are links to them at the end.
Some people plan out their entire lives to the minute. Most of the time, I am one of those people. I’ve always got something to work on, and knowing what I’m doing with my time is the only thing that keeps me sane, most days. I like knowing what’s going on and when and who’s going to be involved. Last minute changes drive me insane. I can’t stand inconsistencies, and I need to know where things stand at all times.
I’m not usually one for surprises, I guess, is what I’m trying to get at. They frequently make me uncomfortable. Especially surprises like this, and that’s probably why I’m still standing in Darren’s bathroom with my jaw halfway to the floor. From now on, I think “surprising” will be the word I use most when asked about him in interviews. Yes. Definitely ”surprising.”
“Man, you’ve been washing your hands for kind of a while now,” Darren’s voice comes from down the hall. “Are you o-“ he reaches the door with a grin on his face, and it quickly falls as he realizes that I’m staring into the bottom drawer of his bathroom vanity “-kay?”
Well. Isn’t this awkward? “I was looking for a hand towel,” I say in an attempt to explain. “I thought using the one hanging over the curtain rod would be a bit too personal.”
“Extra towels are in middle drawer,” he says hoarsely, wrapping his arms around himself and looking away like it’ll mean this isn’t happening. Like it’ll mean that I didn’t just stumble upon a drawer full of…well, yeah.
“Oh. Yes, yes. Middle. I should have known. I just went for the bottom because that’s where I keep mine, and I, yeah, I’m going to just shut up now and we’ll never talk about it again, okay?”
Darren gives a groan deep in the back of his throat and turns his head to face me, though he lowers his face into one of his hands and keeps his eyes closed. “We can’t do that, Chris. If we didn’t do most of our scenes together, maybe that would work, but we spend most of our time on set together, and it’s just going to suck if we’re always dancing around-“
“-the drawer full of sex toys in the middle of the room?” I finish for him, clearly failing in my brilliant attempts to lighten the mood.
“Yeah…that,” he says, and sinks to the floor against the wall. “Look. We’re both of us adults, so let’s just try and figure out the easiest way to get past this without me experiencing like, a thousand deaths of embarrassment, okay?”
“Darren,” I sigh, taking a seat on the floor. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. Your sex life is none of my business, and whatever you’re doing with whomever you’re doing with is not for me to judge, unless they’re underage. Or animals. Please tell me you’re not using those on puppies or kittens because if you are, I just don’t think we can continue being friends.”
He gives a small laugh, and for the first time since he found me in here, things are starting to feel a little normal. “No, I’m most definitely not using them on anyone” he stiffens “or anything that isn’t completely and totally legal. Promise.”
“Then why so embarrassed?” I ask. “I mean, I know I’d probably want to spontaneously realize I had the power of invisibility or teleportation or something like that if someone ran across something like that at my place, but it shouldn’t be a big deal for you. I mean, if someone found that in my apartment, they’d automatically assume that I was using them on my-“ and now, he’s backing against the wall like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him up alive and just like that, I get it. It’s just like the apple falling onto Newton’s head, only in my case, it’s less like an apple and more like a giant dildo. “Oh,” I hear myself saying, sounding about as intelligent as…well, something really unintelligent.
“Yeah,” he sighs, “oh.”
I know it’s terrible, but I can’t help but turn my head just enough to look down into the drawer and everything in it. There’s an assortment of what I can really only describe as “strappy things,” some beads, a bottle of lube, at least six dildos of different sizes, plus a couple of plugs, and - oh my god, is that a ball gag?
Breathe, Colfer. Just breathe. Close your eyes and think of England. Or mailmen. Crying puppies. Something. Anything. Just so long as it’s not Darren naked and on his knees and with his wrists tied to his ankles and with that gag stuffed into his mouth and hello, where did that image come from?
Breathe.
“Uh, Chris?” Darren ventures, his voice tight and strained. “Do you think you’d mind, maybe, putting that down?”
I’m really confused by this, until he flicks his eyes to my left hand and raises his eyebrows meaningfully. Looking down, I’m horrified to see that I’ve picked one of them up and have probably been holding it this whole time. Great. That’s not going to make this even weirder, or anything.
“Sorry,” I say, practically throwing it at him. He catches it easily, and I swear it’s like something out of some sort of pornographic relay race. The hundred dildo dash, maybe.
“S’ok,” he says, holding it against his chest and blushing just a little bit. “It’s just not something I usually let other people know about, you know?” He gives a little laugh as he leans further into the wall and drops his head a bit. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, but it’s that weird kind of “well, isn’t this a painfully awkward and regrettable moment that I’m praying you’ll forget about the second it’s finally over?” smile; not the bright one that usually fills his face. I’m so focused on it that it actually takes me a minute to realize that he’s not just holding the dildo; he’s rubbing that hand’s wrist softly back and forth against his chest, his thumb lightly stroking the dildo’s head.
I’m equal parts mortified, embarrassed, and turned on.
Okay, maybe a little more of that last one.
Neither one of us says anything, and after a few moments pass, it’s almost as if he’s forgotten I’m still in the room. He begins to stroke it more intently, clutching it closer and closer to his chest, his eyes still closed, but looking less embarrassed and more enthralled. There’s a hunger in his face that I’ve never really seen before, and if I’m being honest, I’m getting kind of enthralled, myself.
I don’t know that that’s really a good thing.
“So,” I pipe up, doing my best to sound casual “you’ve used all of these? Seriously?” He hums his confirmation, still stroking his thumb along the pinkish dildo in his hand and avoiding my gaze. “Variety is the spice of life,” I quip, flipping through the drawer and doing my best to not think about just where everything’s been, when I come across one that looks especially interesting. It’s got to be at least a foot long, and made of sleek green glass. “Even this one?” I ask, holding it gingerly near the middle.
Darren finally lifts his eyes toward me, and they grow large as they focus on the smooth column in my hand. “That one,” he says in a choked voice “is my favorite, actually.”
“Oh, come on, Darren. There’s no way you’re able to take all of this,” I say, spinning my wrist back and forth as if to show off just how big it is (though clearly, he’s already well familiar).
“Course not,” he says, half laughing. “It’s meant to be shared, so I only take about half of it. Sometimes more, if I’m feeling ambitious.”
The visual of him sharing it with some random girl flashes to mind, and I immediately drop it into my lap. “Well,” I say, trying my best to appear unfazed “they do say sharing is caring, so good on you for…caring so much.”
“Actually…” he says, looking a little nervous again “I haven’t shared it with anyone. Not yet, anyway. The internet may be full of girls who love seeing guys take it up the ass, but I have yet to find myself dating one.”
Okay, that’s kind of annoying. “Poor little Darren,” I say, rolling my eyes, “it must be so hard to find someone to have sex with when you’re young and straight and consistently referred to as one of the breakout heartthrobs of the year.”
“Hey,” he says, flicking his wrist toward me for emphasis without realizing that it means the dildo in his hand (which I’ve since decided is named “Howard,” just because giving it a name makes the whole situation a little easier to deal with) is now pointed directly at my chest “I’m not just talking about sex. Sex is easy. Either one of us could walk two blocks in any direction and come up with at least half a dozen people willing to have sex with us - it’s finding someone who wants the right kind of sex that’s the hard part.”
“There’s a right and a wrong kind?” I ask, my virginity clearly showing.
“Lots of girls out there who’d love to think they have a chance with you, man,” he says, finally realizing how he’s gesturing with Howard and cracking up as a result.
“Point taken,” I grin, leaning against the cupboard and flipping through the drawer a little more. “So, what do you consider the ‘right kind’ of sex - if you don’t mind my asking?”
Darren hums a little in his throat and tilts his head, looking out of me through one eye as the other screws tight. “Well, there’s the ass thing, for one. I’ve just always been a big fan of that, and lots of girls really aren’t down with it. I had one girl who seemed okay with it for a while, but she eventually freaked out about how it meant I was secretly a repressed homosexual who was only dating her because she was flat-chested enough that I could pretend she was a boy.” He shakes his head and gives a low laugh. “Clearly, she wasn’t as okay with it as she’d wanted me to think.”
“Not to sound insensitive, Darren, but I’m pretty sure you’ve still got it considerably easier than me. No one ever gave me a second look before Glee took off, and now, I never know if someone’s really interested in me, or if they’ve got some sick Kurt fetish. It’s kind of creepy, actually.”
“Shut your mouth, Colfer. You’re beautiful, and you know it.” Darren smiles and shakes his head a little. “Guys hit on you because you’re hot, not because you’re on Glee. If it didn’t happen before, it’s probably just because you were still growing into yourself. I mean, no offense, but you were still kind of a kid when the show started.” He fixes his eyes on me and gives what I’m guessing is his ”My name is Darren Criss, and it is my job to make everyone feel fabulous about themselves” smile. “Believe me, I get far more people telling me they’re jealous because I got to kiss you than Lea. Trust me, Chris, any problems you’re having in that department are entirely in your head.”
“Well…” I hesitate, debating whether telling him the other part will help him feel better about what he’s shared with me, or just double the awkward factor. “Let’s just say that I’ve got a couple of factors of my own to contend with, when finding the right kind, as you put it.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, suddenly intrigued and sliding Howard between circled fingers on both hands. “What’s your thing? Let me guess - total power bottom, am I right?”
I pull a face without meaning to and just shake my head. “Okay, Darren, you have to tell me - what the fuck is it about me that always makes people draw that conclusion?”
“I can’t really speak for anyone else, but personally…” he bites his lower lip for a second and flashes me a secret smile, “I guessed it because I think we can always tell our own.”
“You,” I begin, fixing him with a look that I just know is oozing with incredulity, “consider yourself a power bottom? Really?”
“Okay, okay,” he huffs a little, clutching Howard a little closer. “Maybe more on the bottom side than the power one. Still…I could easily see you falling into that role, and you have yet to confirm or deny.”
“Ughhh,” I groan, slumping forward and tapping another one of Darren’s dildos (this one made of clear glass with a rainbow swirl running through it - because even his sex toys have to be flamboyant, apparently) against the top of my head. “See, that’s the problem,” I say, gesturing toward him with the rainbow-streaked dildo, which I’ve now decided should be named Travis. (And really, what is it with me deciding all of Darren’s sex toys need names?) “Right there. Guys look at me, and they see this prissy little bottom bitch. Not once does anyone look at me and think, ‘hey, I’d love for him to chain me to the wall and make me call him Sir.’”
Darren’s face goes white, and the thought that that may have been too much suddenly crosses my mind. “You’re…a top?” he asks, looking so confused that you’d think he was channeling Brittany, or something. “Like, not just a top, but a dominant top????”
“Really, Darren, it’s not that surprising, is it? Or am I really such a delicate, wilting flower that the mere thought of me forcing Travis here down someone’s throat and telling them to suck it like the dirty fucking whore they are is just too ridiculous for words?”
“Travis?” he mutters confusedly, a crinkle forming between his brows as his eyes focus on it in my hand.
“Never mind about Travis,” I say. “I’m just trying to point out that as bad as you think you have it, you’re not the only one who’s got problems finding ‘the right kind’ of sex to suit you, and all things considered, I think you’ve got a better shot at solving your problems than I do mine.”
“So…” he hedges, scooting a little closer, eyes still focused on good ol’ Travis. “If you, you know, did find someone who was into that, what exactly would you say to them?”
The whole situation is kind of ridiculous, but he’s finally gotten over his embarrassment from before, so I decide to play along. After all, it’s not like I can really talk to anyone else about this. “First,” I begin, “I’d probably run it up and down his face, from crown to chin, and tell how obvious it was that he wanted to suck on it for me.”
“And then?” he urges, coming to his hands and knees and crawling still closer.
“And then…” I trail for a moment, “I’d probably just barely press it into his neck, not enough to do any damage, but enough to be uncomfortable, and make him tell me how much he wanted it.”
“And if he wanted it really bad?” Darren gasps, licking his lips and following Travis as I mime the actions I’m describing.
”He’s not implying…” I think to myself, purposely changing the pattern I’m tracing in the air with Travis to see that Darren’s continuing to follow it - and he is.
“How bad?” I ask, pointing Travis outward and stopping it just inches from his lips.
“So bad, Sir,” he whispers, and it’s like a jolt of awareness flows through me.
“Sir, he says. Well, well, well,” I think to myself, ”this suddenly got very interesting.”
Carefully, I move Travis closer and closer, until I finally bring it to rest against Darren’s cheek. “You like this, don’t you?” I ask him, dipping into a lower register than I normally use for speaking. He bobs his head up and down, tilting it to give me better access to the side Travis is touching. I flick my wrist just enough to make it tap against his face, and he gives a strangled groan as the contact is made.
“Please,” he whispers, “please, sir.” I run Travis along Darren’s face in random patterns, occasionally running it down and against his throat, watching his mouth fall a little more slack with every movement. When I finally slide it to his lower lip, he visibly shivers as a moan escapes his throat.
“Ask nicely,” I state calmly, my face a mask of indifference even though I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on.
“Please, Sir, let me suck it for you,” he rasps, and it takes me less than a second to slide at least half of the toy between his lips and back to his throat, my wrist giving a slight twist at the end to make sure he really feels it. His head falls back just a little, and his chest begins to rise and fall in a steady rhythm as his lips curl around Travis. From the way the other end moves in my hand, it’s clear that Darren’s really working it over with his tongue from inside his mouth. It keeps moving back and forth and just a little up and down, so I slide it in a little further, triggering another moan from the back of his throat.
I begin to thrust Travis in harder and faster, caring less about being gentle and more about forcing him to keep up with me. No matter how hard I give it to him, though, Darren just takes it. Hungrily bobbing after it and doing his best to accommodate it at whatever angle I force on him. I’m just getting into the groove of things when it occurs to me that I’ve finally found a hot guy who’s seemingly just dying to be my little bottom bitch, and he’s straight. Dear sweet god, what is my life? “Good boy,” I murmur, pulling Travis out of Darren’s mouth and running it lightly down the front of his shirt “but right now, I think we need to talk.”
“What?” he asks, face full of innocence.
“Look, Darren, that was…nice, I’m not going to lie. However, there is the elephant in the room to be dealt with here.
“But I thought we were okay with everything in the drawer, now. I mean, I’m over being embarrassed over it,” he says, shrugging a little and letting Howard fall to the floor, apparently forgotten while he was sucking on Travis.
“Yes, yes, but the drawer, I think, is the least of our issues, at this point. You just let me fuck your mouth with a rainbow-striped dildo, Darren. Doesn’t that strike you as slightly out of the ordinary? Possibly something that we might want to discuss and clarify?”
“Well…” he trails, a slight discomfort taking over his face again. “The way I see it, it’s kind of a win-win, really.” He falls back onto his haunches and drapes his arms over his knees, bouncing slightly on his heels. “I really like submitting to people, and you like ordering them around. I like having my ass violated a hundred ways from Sunday,” he laughs “and I’m guessing you’d be more than okay with doing that. I just don’t see why we can’t…play together.”
“Play?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Yeah, play. It’s pretty common activity in most fetish clubs - not that I’ve been to one before, though I looked into them before people really knew who I was. It’s like…sexual activity for the sake of it. Just for fun, you know? No strings attached, no romantic involvement, just both of us using the other for our respective kinks and hopefully being a little happier as a result. I mean, I trust you enough, and I’d like to think you feel like you can trust me.”
I lean back for a moment, taking all of this in. “So let me get this straight - you’re suggesting we become quasi-platonic ‘playmates,’ or something?”
“Well, yeah,” he responds, as if it makes perfect sense. “Think about it - we’re both free to pursue other people romantically, but we still get the option of getting down and dirty away from prying eyes. We already hang out a lot, so no one will think anything’s up if we’re spotted at the other’s place. By playing with each other, neither of us has to worry about someone taking us for a ride and ratting things out to some tabloid - or worse, Tumblr - and we have the added bonus of knowing that there’s already a solid foundation of trust and acceptance.” His face is absolutely beaming at this point, he’s so satisfied with himself. “It’s so perfect, it just seems like a shame we didn’t get it figured out sooner. Come on, Chris - what do you say?”
The way he’s talking, you’d think he was suggesting something as inconsequential as a potential duet for Kurt and Blaine - not letting me ram things up his ass until he cries. “I don’t know, Darren, it just seems like a bad idea waiting to happen.”
“No, Chris, really - haven’t you ever heard of ‘friends with benefits?’ It happens all the time. I’m pretty sure Lea and Cory had a similar arrangement when she and Theo broke up for a hot minute last winter.” He leans back a little, clearly confused about why I’m not leaping at the chance. “I just don’t see why you’re so hesitant about this. Lay down a few ground rules from the start, and I really don’t see what the problem is.”
“Darren…the problem is that you like girls,” I sigh, exasperated beyond words and resenting the fact that I’ve been forced to say anything about it at all.
“Yeah, so?” he asks, just as uncomprehendingly as before. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“I kind of have a cock, Darren. You know, just in case you forgot about that little detail. Not that it’s little, I mean.” Wince. Yeah, that wasn’t mildly embarrassing, or anything.
“Believe it or not, Chris, I’m very much aware that you’re a guy. I guess it just doesn’t really bother me for this, because it’s not like it’s about sex in any conventional terms. For me, the turn on is partially from being so completely vulnerable, and partially from seeing how much the other person likes using me. You seemed to enjoy watching me suck on that toy just now, so that made it better for me.” He shrugs, as if this all makes perfect sense.
“Okay…well, what about these ground rules you’re suggesting?”
“For starters,” he says, moving into Darren-the-responsible-and-no-nonsense-businessman mode “no kissing. I think that’s pretty much rule one. Not just because you’re a guy - you know I don’t have any problem with kissing you - but because it’s the wrong kind of intimacy for what we’re setting out to do. I mean, if I were doing this with someone I was dating, that’d be one thing, but if this is just a casual thing between friends…” I nod my head, fully grasping what he’s saying, and he seems relieved that he doesn’t have to explain himself further.
“Second rule,” I start, “you pretty much have to be naked for this to work, but I keep my clothes on, okay? One, because it’ll further emphasize the power imbalance, and two, because like you said, it’s the wrong kind of intimacy for this arrangement.”
“Fair enough,” Darren says. “Rule three - the second either of us starts seeing someone, this comes to an end.”
“Deal,” I say, giving Travis a little wave and pointing it at him. “Rule four, this stays at your house. I don’t want to run the risk of someone on the other side of a wall hearing anything they shouldn’t.”
“Rule five, when in my room or whatever spot of the house we’re playing, you’re the boss. The minute we step out of that, we’re total equals.”
“Agreed,” I nod, wracking my brain for anything else we should set in stone. “I think that’s about it, really. Oh, except rule six - no one knows about this.”
“Oh, totally,” Darren enthuses, “nobody’s business but our own.” He chuckles “can you imagine the reactions if anyone found out?”
“I think the internet would break,” I deadpan, because it’s totally the truth.
“Totally,” he laughs, his eyes locking on Travis once again. “So,” he purrs, lowering his head and peering at me through his lashes, “are you going to show me what else you can do with that, or do I have to beg?”
I tilt my head, a smile spreading across my lips and the wheels beginning to turn inside my head. “Give me a reason to, and I swear it’ll be worth your while.”
Featured in this story:
The dildo Chris first grabs from the drawer, and Darren later clutches to his chest. This is the one Chris refers to as “Howard.”
The green glass double-sized dildo that Darren claims is his favorite
The rainbow-swirled one Chris names Travis.
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