Turn The Lights Down Low 2/7 [RPF]
Author: Odd
Title: Turn The Lights Down Low 2/7 [RPF]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,960
Spoilers: You can not spoil what was never real.
Summary: For this prompt on the kink meme. "Chris was fine with Kurt getting his first kiss with a boy before he did, and he was fine with Kurt getting a boyfriend before he did. But when he reads the script for the senior prom episode (a.k.a. the one where Kurt and pretty much all of ND book hotel rooms and go all the way), he decides that he's had enough of being jealous that his on-screen alter ego is getting all the action.
After a long and thorough process of deciding who the lucky recipient of his V-card is going to be (seriously, he made flowcharts), he decides on Darren, who -- after being reassured that Chris hasn't fallen madly in love with him, he just wants Darren to fuck him in the ass -- Darren happily obliges. Hot first-time sex ensues.
Notes: After two months, it's finally done. Big, big thanks to (in no order in particular) Birdie, Aubrey, Lucie, Ae, Rosa, Ellen, Bea, Ashley, Christine, and Laura. Whether it was letting me run down the entire story in "and then, and then, and then..." fashion so I could figure out what the hell I was doing, ripping it apart line-by-line to make something suck less, going over the whole damn thing with a fine-tooth comb to help give the illusion that I had the slightest grasp on proper punctuation and grammar, or just letting me cry over instant messages about how frustrated I was, I couldn't have done it without you.
It’s almost two weeks later when Chris sits nervously in his trailer, fingers clenching and unclenching around the strap of his messenger bag as he waits for Darren. Chris had initially balked when Darren said they'd have to do it on Friday the Thirteenth, but Darren had insisted. "I'll admit that it's not my first pick," Darren had said, "but that's the only weekend night we both have free between now and when the prom episode airs. The Saturday before that could technically work, but you have an early breakfast meeting the next morning."
"What does that matter?" Chris had groaned. "It shouldn't take that long. I still think we should just do it some night after work. Hell," he'd said, flinging an arm out and gesturing toward his bedroom, "we could just do it right now and get it over with."
"I told you," Darren had said, giving Chris a look that made it clear he wasn't to be argued with, "I'm only doing this if we do it my way. I'm not cool with just taking you into your room and busting a nut. If you want my cock, you gotta' walk my talk."
"Darren?"
"Yes, Chris?"
"That makes no sense."
"Yeah, it sounded a lot cooler in my head. Just take a cab to work that day. I'll take care of everything else."
So Chris had finally given in, and that led to this moment. Sitting in his trailer with his hands in his lap and going completely out of his mind. This was insane. What had he been thinking, asking Darren to do this for him? More than that, what had he been thinking when he'd agree to let Darren have control over it?
Oh, yeah. That he wanted to get laid. That explained things.
He'd just bounced his right knee up and down for the one hundred and thirty-fifth time when the knock came at the door. He bolted from his seat and opened the door to find…Ashley.
"C'mon, Babydaddy," she said as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Follow me."
"Ashley, I'm waiting for-"
"Darren," she nodded. "Yeah, I know. Who'd you think told me to come get you?" She grabbed onto his sleeve and tugged him forward. "C'mon. It's time for Darren to explore your Underworld, and I'm filling in for Hermes Psychopompos." Chris raised an eyebrow at her and she gave a look of mock offense. "What? You're the only one allowed to learn anything from all that educational programming you make me sit through? That series on Greek myths was kinda' fascinating. 'Specially the part where Zeus turned into an animal and had sex with that lady. I keep going back and forth on whether that would technically be bestiality." She pulled out her keys and clicked the button to open the automatic locks. "Get in," she said, opening the driver's side door and buckling her seat belt. "I have strict orders and a stricter time table, so get your ass in gear before Darren does it for you. See what I did there? Damn clever of me, if I say so myself."
"Fine," Chris sighed, getting into the car and giving a curious glance at her backseat. "Ashley? Why are my garment and overnight bags in your car?"
"Darren's orders," she said, looking into the rearview mirror and pulling out of her parking spot. "He knew I had your spare key, so he asked me to get you a few things. We've only got an hour before he gets to my place, so let's hope traffic's not a bitch."
"I am not losing my virginity in your apartment, Ashley. No offense, but you don't have a spare bedroom, and there's no way I'm having sex in your bed - with or without the hot pink zebra print comforter."
"Fuck you," she laughed. "Oh, wait; that's Darren's job, isn't it?"
"You're enjoying this entirely too much, you know that, right?" Chris asked, eyes closed and leaning his head against the car's window.
"Damn straight," she laughed. "Only you're not, which is too bad. Could've gotten you sorted out a long time ago, if you were."
"I love you, Ashley."
"Love you too, Chris."
---
Just under an hour later, and Chris is once again bouncing his knee up and down while twisting the strap of a bag in his hands. The only differences are that this time, he's in Ashley's apartment, it's his overnight bag that he's fiddling with, and he's dressed much better. He'd been wearing faded jeans and an old Henley when Ashley had all but dragged him back to her place, and the first thing she'd done after getting him through the door was to throw his garment bag at him and point him toward the bathroom. "Go make yourself pretty," she'd said, "I'll be right here if you need me."
So he'd done his best. He wasn't exactly red carpet worthy when he was done, but he was sure he looked good enough for whatever Darren had up his sleeve. Sitting there on Ashley's sofa, Chris was wearing a black suit with a deep blue shirt and silver tie. "I didn't have a lot of time," Ashley had apologized. "I kinda' grabbed the first things that caught my eye. Hope that's okay." Chris assured her that it was. Even if she'd put him in an old flour sack and a tutu, he probably would have said it was okay. It was all going to end up on the floor, anyway.
There's a knock at the door, and Chris feels his palms begin to sweat. "That must be Darren," he says dumbly, rising to his feet and doing his best to appear at ease. "You'll take my other bags back to my house, right?" Ashley nods, and Chris drops his guard long enough to grab her and give her a tight hug. "Wish me luck," he whispers into her ear, and she gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the knob and slipping through the door.
Darren's standing just inches from the door, and Chris almost knocks right into him as he leaves Ashley's apartment. "Hi," he says, fully aware of how stupid he must sound.
"Hey," Darren smiles. "You look nice. Ashley did a good job."
"She did," Chris nods. "You look nice, too." Darren's wearing a dark blue suit with a white shirt and black tie, and it actually looks as if he's shaved since leaving the set. "Not to be rude, but can I ask why?"
"All in due time, my good man. All in good time." Darren cocks his head to the side and takes Chris's bag from him. "Come on. We've got a lot to do."
Chris follows, wordlessly. They make it as far as Darren's car before Chris can't take it any longer. "What are we doing?" he asks as Darren shuts Chris's door for him.
Darren pointedly avoids Chris's eyes and busies himself with fastening his seat belt. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks. "We’re on a date."
Chris rolls his eyes, and Darren is quick to elaborate. "Look, I get that you don't think this is a big deal. I really do. I didn't think it was going to be a big deal before my first time, either. I just wanted to do it, you know? Get it out of the way so I wouldn't have the whole virgin thing hanging over my head." Darren raises an eyebrow in Chris's direction. "Sound familiar?" Chris nods, and Darren continues. "So, anyway, I was almost eighteen, making out with my girlfriend of four months, and all of a sudden, she tells me she's been on the pill for the last year and she's definitely ready." He sighs, and his voice takes on a different tone. "We ended up doing it right then and there, on an old futon in her garage. It was uncomfortable and weird, and everything smelled like gasoline and kitty litter." Darren allows himself a half laugh, then gives Chris a sympathetic look. "I know what it's like to just want it to be over. I know what it's like to just go for it and figure it doesn't matter. Thing is, it does matter. It should, at least."
Darren reaches out and places a hand on Chris's knee. "I know I'm not your boyfriend, Chris. I know a lot of things. One of those is what it feels like to look back on what should have been a special moment with nothing but regret. I'll be really honest, Chris. I wanted to say no. I wanted to give you this whole speech about waiting for the right moment and holding out for a guy who really deserved you. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that if you were really as intent on doing this as you seemed, you'd find a way to make it happen. One way or another, you'd find someone to have sex with, and the longer it took you, the less it would end up meaning.
"I want this to mean something for you, Chris." Darren's eyes are wide, with an obvious sadness behind them. "You're too good to just throw this away on some stranger who won't care about you past the point of bragging rights. I'm not saying I'm the ideal candidate for the job, but I am saying that I at least care enough about you to want to do the best job I can."
---
The restaurant is nice, but in a very dated sort of way. It's all dark wood and heavy tablecloths, and most of the tables are in heavy booths that line the perimeter. Short, squat candles flicker in net-covered jars on top of the tables, and the whole thing looks almost like something out of The Godfather. Chris almost makes a joke about one making an offer the other can't refuse, but Darren opens his mouth before Chris gets the chance.
"I know it doesn't look like much," Darren apologizes once they're seated, "but it's really private. It's also got the best Italian I've had outside of Italy." The next fifteen minutes tilt just this side of uncomfortable. Darren attempts to make conversation, but Chris answers almost everything with one or two word answers, when he answers at all. It's not until Chris has just swallowed his first spoonful of minestrone that he offers anything without Darren asking.
"This is really good," he says. "I'm glad you talked me into getting it."
"I'm glad that you're glad," Darren says, his smile reaching his eyes for the first time that night.
"I know I told you none of this was necessary," Chris begins, "but I want to say thank you for doing it."
Darren's eyes take on that same sad look they had in the car, and he reaches forward for Chris's free hand. "Thank you for letting me."
They stare at each other for a minute, and it's suddenly as if the tension between them has lifted. "Should we share a cannoli for desert?" Chris jokes, his eyes suddenly bright and shining.
"Screw sharing," Darren laughs. "I think we should each have one of our own."
They do each end up having one of their own, along with soup, enormous salads, and entrees Chris swears are the size of his head. Chris also agrees to forgo his usual Diet Coke, drinking instead three glasses of the finest Pinot noir he's ever had. "I could totally make a wine snob out of you," Darren jokes, and Chris doesn't stop to think before he answers.
"Maybe after a few more dates," Chris says, then does his best to pretend he didn't.
---
Twenty minutes after leaving the restaurant, Darren surprises Chris by passing the exit to his house. When he'd seen the overnight bag, he'd assumed the plan was for them to go back to Darren's. Why would Chris need anything packed for him if they were going to do this in his own house? He's still stewing in his confusion when Darren gets off the freeway two exits later, pulling into the lot of a tasteful looking hotel and driving around to park in the back.
"Here we are," Darren says as he gets out of the car and runs to open Chris's door for him. They're parked in front of a small bungalow, one of about a half-dozen circling the pool. Chris takes Darren's hand and gets out of the car, the tight ball of anxiety returning to his stomach. Darren reaches into the backseat for Chris's bag, then slings it over his shoulder before leading Chris to the bungalow and unlocking the door.
Chris's first reaction is that it's much like the restaurant. It's nice, but nothing that could be considered hip or trendy by any stretch of the imagination. It's classy, not flashy, and Chris decides he actually likes it. He could do a lot worse, he thinks to himself. It certainly sounds as if Darren did.
Darren sets Chris's bag on the dresser and opens the small refrigerator hidden in the armoire to remove a small bowl of fresh strawberries and a bottle of champagne. Darren uncorks the bottle with a loud pop, then pours it into two glasses he'd also had chilling in the fridge. "To lasting memories," he says, offering one to Chris. "May they be worth keeping."
"We can only hope," Chris says, then takes a sip.
"Wait right here," Darren tells him. "I have something to do in the other room." Chris just nods and takes a seat on the loveseat beside the window. Darren rests the bowl of berries on the table in front of Chris, dropping one into Chris's glass on his way into the other room. Chris sits there, taking deep breaths in between sips of his champagne as he tries to make himself relax.
Darren reemerges a couple of minutes later, his jacket off and one of his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbow. He doesn't say anything when he sits down beside Chris. He just takes the glass from him, sets it on the table, and leans in to brush a kiss against Chris's lips. It's not like Blaine kissing Kurt, but Chris finds himself at a loss for the words to describe it. It's softer, for one. More…what's the word? Hesitant? Nervous? Chris's mind finally settles on cautious, and he finds it strangely comforting. The possibility that Darren could be less assured than he's given the impression helps Chris feel better about his own nerves, and he feels himself finally begin to relax. "You don't have to do this, you know," he murmurs against Darren's mouth.
"I know," Darren answers, cupping Chris's face in his hands and leaning close enough that Chris finds himself leaning back as Darren's body begins to stretch above his own. "But I'm going to, anyway."
"This is really happening," Chris thinks to himself as he feels Darren's hands fall from his face and onto his chest; and Chris can't help but give a small moan when he feels Darren undo his tie and use the two loose ends to pull Chris even closer. Darren kisses him hungrily, his tongue exploring Chris's mouth in ways it never has during any of their kissing scenes on camera. Chris finds himself grabbing onto Darren's shoulders, desperate for some sort of anchor in what's quickly beginning to feel like a storm.
Darren's fingers slip from the tie and make quick work of undoing the buttons of Chris's shirt. As one hand strokes against Chris's chest, Darren gives a laugh that comes out lower than Chris has heard from him before. "You and your undershirts," Darren says, his fingers stroking against Chris's nipples through the thin white fabric. "You make things so difficult."
"That's me," Chris says. "I'm so hard to get."
"You are," Darren grins, hovering over Chris and looking at him with eyes that have grown wide and dark. "Whether you realize it or not. I could name at least a dozen guys who'd do horrible, horrible things to be in my shoes right now." He dives back into Chris and kisses him on the neck, open-mouthed and wet, as he jerks Chris's undershirt out of his pants and up to his chest. "Arms up," he breathes against Chris's throat, then pulls back just enough to finish removing Chris's shirt. "You look amazing," he says, running his eyes down Chris's chest.
"You're just saying that," Chris sighs, and Darren looks up at him with serious eyes.
"I'm not 'just' doing or saying anything, Chris. I need you to understand that. Like, I really need you to get that everything I'm doing, I'm doing because I want to. I'm here of my own free will, and I always have the option of leaving or stopping if I change my mind. Can you promise me you'll stop telling me I don't have to do things, and just accept that I want to? Whatever my motivation might be is beside the point. The only thing that should matter right now is that we're about to do something incredibly personal, and I want us both to enjoy the experience as much as we can. By all means, tell me if I do anything you don't like. I'll stop right away with no questions asked. All I'm asking is that you stop trying to prevent me from doing things you do like. Okay?" Chris nods, cheeks flushed and tongue flicking in and out between pursed lips, and Darren gives a sigh of relief. "Good," he says, getting up from the loveseat and taking Chris's hand. "Follow me."
Part Three
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Title: Turn The Lights Down Low 2/7 [RPF]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,960
Spoilers: You can not spoil what was never real.
Summary: For this prompt on the kink meme. "Chris was fine with Kurt getting his first kiss with a boy before he did, and he was fine with Kurt getting a boyfriend before he did. But when he reads the script for the senior prom episode (a.k.a. the one where Kurt and pretty much all of ND book hotel rooms and go all the way), he decides that he's had enough of being jealous that his on-screen alter ego is getting all the action.
After a long and thorough process of deciding who the lucky recipient of his V-card is going to be (seriously, he made flowcharts), he decides on Darren, who -- after being reassured that Chris hasn't fallen madly in love with him, he just wants Darren to fuck him in the ass -- Darren happily obliges. Hot first-time sex ensues.
Notes: After two months, it's finally done. Big, big thanks to (in no order in particular) Birdie, Aubrey, Lucie, Ae, Rosa, Ellen, Bea, Ashley, Christine, and Laura. Whether it was letting me run down the entire story in "and then, and then, and then..." fashion so I could figure out what the hell I was doing, ripping it apart line-by-line to make something suck less, going over the whole damn thing with a fine-tooth comb to help give the illusion that I had the slightest grasp on proper punctuation and grammar, or just letting me cry over instant messages about how frustrated I was, I couldn't have done it without you.
It’s almost two weeks later when Chris sits nervously in his trailer, fingers clenching and unclenching around the strap of his messenger bag as he waits for Darren. Chris had initially balked when Darren said they'd have to do it on Friday the Thirteenth, but Darren had insisted. "I'll admit that it's not my first pick," Darren had said, "but that's the only weekend night we both have free between now and when the prom episode airs. The Saturday before that could technically work, but you have an early breakfast meeting the next morning."
"What does that matter?" Chris had groaned. "It shouldn't take that long. I still think we should just do it some night after work. Hell," he'd said, flinging an arm out and gesturing toward his bedroom, "we could just do it right now and get it over with."
"I told you," Darren had said, giving Chris a look that made it clear he wasn't to be argued with, "I'm only doing this if we do it my way. I'm not cool with just taking you into your room and busting a nut. If you want my cock, you gotta' walk my talk."
"Darren?"
"Yes, Chris?"
"That makes no sense."
"Yeah, it sounded a lot cooler in my head. Just take a cab to work that day. I'll take care of everything else."
So Chris had finally given in, and that led to this moment. Sitting in his trailer with his hands in his lap and going completely out of his mind. This was insane. What had he been thinking, asking Darren to do this for him? More than that, what had he been thinking when he'd agree to let Darren have control over it?
Oh, yeah. That he wanted to get laid. That explained things.
He'd just bounced his right knee up and down for the one hundred and thirty-fifth time when the knock came at the door. He bolted from his seat and opened the door to find…Ashley.
"C'mon, Babydaddy," she said as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Follow me."
"Ashley, I'm waiting for-"
"Darren," she nodded. "Yeah, I know. Who'd you think told me to come get you?" She grabbed onto his sleeve and tugged him forward. "C'mon. It's time for Darren to explore your Underworld, and I'm filling in for Hermes Psychopompos." Chris raised an eyebrow at her and she gave a look of mock offense. "What? You're the only one allowed to learn anything from all that educational programming you make me sit through? That series on Greek myths was kinda' fascinating. 'Specially the part where Zeus turned into an animal and had sex with that lady. I keep going back and forth on whether that would technically be bestiality." She pulled out her keys and clicked the button to open the automatic locks. "Get in," she said, opening the driver's side door and buckling her seat belt. "I have strict orders and a stricter time table, so get your ass in gear before Darren does it for you. See what I did there? Damn clever of me, if I say so myself."
"Fine," Chris sighed, getting into the car and giving a curious glance at her backseat. "Ashley? Why are my garment and overnight bags in your car?"
"Darren's orders," she said, looking into the rearview mirror and pulling out of her parking spot. "He knew I had your spare key, so he asked me to get you a few things. We've only got an hour before he gets to my place, so let's hope traffic's not a bitch."
"I am not losing my virginity in your apartment, Ashley. No offense, but you don't have a spare bedroom, and there's no way I'm having sex in your bed - with or without the hot pink zebra print comforter."
"Fuck you," she laughed. "Oh, wait; that's Darren's job, isn't it?"
"You're enjoying this entirely too much, you know that, right?" Chris asked, eyes closed and leaning his head against the car's window.
"Damn straight," she laughed. "Only you're not, which is too bad. Could've gotten you sorted out a long time ago, if you were."
"I love you, Ashley."
"Love you too, Chris."
---
Just under an hour later, and Chris is once again bouncing his knee up and down while twisting the strap of a bag in his hands. The only differences are that this time, he's in Ashley's apartment, it's his overnight bag that he's fiddling with, and he's dressed much better. He'd been wearing faded jeans and an old Henley when Ashley had all but dragged him back to her place, and the first thing she'd done after getting him through the door was to throw his garment bag at him and point him toward the bathroom. "Go make yourself pretty," she'd said, "I'll be right here if you need me."
So he'd done his best. He wasn't exactly red carpet worthy when he was done, but he was sure he looked good enough for whatever Darren had up his sleeve. Sitting there on Ashley's sofa, Chris was wearing a black suit with a deep blue shirt and silver tie. "I didn't have a lot of time," Ashley had apologized. "I kinda' grabbed the first things that caught my eye. Hope that's okay." Chris assured her that it was. Even if she'd put him in an old flour sack and a tutu, he probably would have said it was okay. It was all going to end up on the floor, anyway.
There's a knock at the door, and Chris feels his palms begin to sweat. "That must be Darren," he says dumbly, rising to his feet and doing his best to appear at ease. "You'll take my other bags back to my house, right?" Ashley nods, and Chris drops his guard long enough to grab her and give her a tight hug. "Wish me luck," he whispers into her ear, and she gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the knob and slipping through the door.
Darren's standing just inches from the door, and Chris almost knocks right into him as he leaves Ashley's apartment. "Hi," he says, fully aware of how stupid he must sound.
"Hey," Darren smiles. "You look nice. Ashley did a good job."
"She did," Chris nods. "You look nice, too." Darren's wearing a dark blue suit with a white shirt and black tie, and it actually looks as if he's shaved since leaving the set. "Not to be rude, but can I ask why?"
"All in due time, my good man. All in good time." Darren cocks his head to the side and takes Chris's bag from him. "Come on. We've got a lot to do."
Chris follows, wordlessly. They make it as far as Darren's car before Chris can't take it any longer. "What are we doing?" he asks as Darren shuts Chris's door for him.
Darren pointedly avoids Chris's eyes and busies himself with fastening his seat belt. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks. "We’re on a date."
Chris rolls his eyes, and Darren is quick to elaborate. "Look, I get that you don't think this is a big deal. I really do. I didn't think it was going to be a big deal before my first time, either. I just wanted to do it, you know? Get it out of the way so I wouldn't have the whole virgin thing hanging over my head." Darren raises an eyebrow in Chris's direction. "Sound familiar?" Chris nods, and Darren continues. "So, anyway, I was almost eighteen, making out with my girlfriend of four months, and all of a sudden, she tells me she's been on the pill for the last year and she's definitely ready." He sighs, and his voice takes on a different tone. "We ended up doing it right then and there, on an old futon in her garage. It was uncomfortable and weird, and everything smelled like gasoline and kitty litter." Darren allows himself a half laugh, then gives Chris a sympathetic look. "I know what it's like to just want it to be over. I know what it's like to just go for it and figure it doesn't matter. Thing is, it does matter. It should, at least."
Darren reaches out and places a hand on Chris's knee. "I know I'm not your boyfriend, Chris. I know a lot of things. One of those is what it feels like to look back on what should have been a special moment with nothing but regret. I'll be really honest, Chris. I wanted to say no. I wanted to give you this whole speech about waiting for the right moment and holding out for a guy who really deserved you. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that if you were really as intent on doing this as you seemed, you'd find a way to make it happen. One way or another, you'd find someone to have sex with, and the longer it took you, the less it would end up meaning.
"I want this to mean something for you, Chris." Darren's eyes are wide, with an obvious sadness behind them. "You're too good to just throw this away on some stranger who won't care about you past the point of bragging rights. I'm not saying I'm the ideal candidate for the job, but I am saying that I at least care enough about you to want to do the best job I can."
---
The restaurant is nice, but in a very dated sort of way. It's all dark wood and heavy tablecloths, and most of the tables are in heavy booths that line the perimeter. Short, squat candles flicker in net-covered jars on top of the tables, and the whole thing looks almost like something out of The Godfather. Chris almost makes a joke about one making an offer the other can't refuse, but Darren opens his mouth before Chris gets the chance.
"I know it doesn't look like much," Darren apologizes once they're seated, "but it's really private. It's also got the best Italian I've had outside of Italy." The next fifteen minutes tilt just this side of uncomfortable. Darren attempts to make conversation, but Chris answers almost everything with one or two word answers, when he answers at all. It's not until Chris has just swallowed his first spoonful of minestrone that he offers anything without Darren asking.
"This is really good," he says. "I'm glad you talked me into getting it."
"I'm glad that you're glad," Darren says, his smile reaching his eyes for the first time that night.
"I know I told you none of this was necessary," Chris begins, "but I want to say thank you for doing it."
Darren's eyes take on that same sad look they had in the car, and he reaches forward for Chris's free hand. "Thank you for letting me."
They stare at each other for a minute, and it's suddenly as if the tension between them has lifted. "Should we share a cannoli for desert?" Chris jokes, his eyes suddenly bright and shining.
"Screw sharing," Darren laughs. "I think we should each have one of our own."
They do each end up having one of their own, along with soup, enormous salads, and entrees Chris swears are the size of his head. Chris also agrees to forgo his usual Diet Coke, drinking instead three glasses of the finest Pinot noir he's ever had. "I could totally make a wine snob out of you," Darren jokes, and Chris doesn't stop to think before he answers.
"Maybe after a few more dates," Chris says, then does his best to pretend he didn't.
---
Twenty minutes after leaving the restaurant, Darren surprises Chris by passing the exit to his house. When he'd seen the overnight bag, he'd assumed the plan was for them to go back to Darren's. Why would Chris need anything packed for him if they were going to do this in his own house? He's still stewing in his confusion when Darren gets off the freeway two exits later, pulling into the lot of a tasteful looking hotel and driving around to park in the back.
"Here we are," Darren says as he gets out of the car and runs to open Chris's door for him. They're parked in front of a small bungalow, one of about a half-dozen circling the pool. Chris takes Darren's hand and gets out of the car, the tight ball of anxiety returning to his stomach. Darren reaches into the backseat for Chris's bag, then slings it over his shoulder before leading Chris to the bungalow and unlocking the door.
Chris's first reaction is that it's much like the restaurant. It's nice, but nothing that could be considered hip or trendy by any stretch of the imagination. It's classy, not flashy, and Chris decides he actually likes it. He could do a lot worse, he thinks to himself. It certainly sounds as if Darren did.
Darren sets Chris's bag on the dresser and opens the small refrigerator hidden in the armoire to remove a small bowl of fresh strawberries and a bottle of champagne. Darren uncorks the bottle with a loud pop, then pours it into two glasses he'd also had chilling in the fridge. "To lasting memories," he says, offering one to Chris. "May they be worth keeping."
"We can only hope," Chris says, then takes a sip.
"Wait right here," Darren tells him. "I have something to do in the other room." Chris just nods and takes a seat on the loveseat beside the window. Darren rests the bowl of berries on the table in front of Chris, dropping one into Chris's glass on his way into the other room. Chris sits there, taking deep breaths in between sips of his champagne as he tries to make himself relax.
Darren reemerges a couple of minutes later, his jacket off and one of his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbow. He doesn't say anything when he sits down beside Chris. He just takes the glass from him, sets it on the table, and leans in to brush a kiss against Chris's lips. It's not like Blaine kissing Kurt, but Chris finds himself at a loss for the words to describe it. It's softer, for one. More…what's the word? Hesitant? Nervous? Chris's mind finally settles on cautious, and he finds it strangely comforting. The possibility that Darren could be less assured than he's given the impression helps Chris feel better about his own nerves, and he feels himself finally begin to relax. "You don't have to do this, you know," he murmurs against Darren's mouth.
"I know," Darren answers, cupping Chris's face in his hands and leaning close enough that Chris finds himself leaning back as Darren's body begins to stretch above his own. "But I'm going to, anyway."
"This is really happening," Chris thinks to himself as he feels Darren's hands fall from his face and onto his chest; and Chris can't help but give a small moan when he feels Darren undo his tie and use the two loose ends to pull Chris even closer. Darren kisses him hungrily, his tongue exploring Chris's mouth in ways it never has during any of their kissing scenes on camera. Chris finds himself grabbing onto Darren's shoulders, desperate for some sort of anchor in what's quickly beginning to feel like a storm.
Darren's fingers slip from the tie and make quick work of undoing the buttons of Chris's shirt. As one hand strokes against Chris's chest, Darren gives a laugh that comes out lower than Chris has heard from him before. "You and your undershirts," Darren says, his fingers stroking against Chris's nipples through the thin white fabric. "You make things so difficult."
"That's me," Chris says. "I'm so hard to get."
"You are," Darren grins, hovering over Chris and looking at him with eyes that have grown wide and dark. "Whether you realize it or not. I could name at least a dozen guys who'd do horrible, horrible things to be in my shoes right now." He dives back into Chris and kisses him on the neck, open-mouthed and wet, as he jerks Chris's undershirt out of his pants and up to his chest. "Arms up," he breathes against Chris's throat, then pulls back just enough to finish removing Chris's shirt. "You look amazing," he says, running his eyes down Chris's chest.
"You're just saying that," Chris sighs, and Darren looks up at him with serious eyes.
"I'm not 'just' doing or saying anything, Chris. I need you to understand that. Like, I really need you to get that everything I'm doing, I'm doing because I want to. I'm here of my own free will, and I always have the option of leaving or stopping if I change my mind. Can you promise me you'll stop telling me I don't have to do things, and just accept that I want to? Whatever my motivation might be is beside the point. The only thing that should matter right now is that we're about to do something incredibly personal, and I want us both to enjoy the experience as much as we can. By all means, tell me if I do anything you don't like. I'll stop right away with no questions asked. All I'm asking is that you stop trying to prevent me from doing things you do like. Okay?" Chris nods, cheeks flushed and tongue flicking in and out between pursed lips, and Darren gives a sigh of relief. "Good," he says, getting up from the loveseat and taking Chris's hand. "Follow me."
Part Three
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