Turn The Lights Down Low 7/7 [RPF]
Title: Turn The Lights Down Low 7/7 [RPF]
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,500
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.
Five days later, Chris is sitting across from what may be the hottest guy he's ever seen in person.
Alex belongs to a class Chris swore he'd never consider - that of actor-slash-model. It hadn't taken Chris long after arriving in Los Angeles to realize that at least half the potential dating pool consisted of this dreaded classification, and he'd vowed early on to never "go there." If he hadn't been a friend of Joanie's - one of the makeup artists on the show - Chris never would have agreed to this date. She'd tried suggesting it for almost a year before finally giving up, and was more than thrilled to give him Alex's phone number when Chris called her in a fit of frustration the day the day after his last club adventure.
True to Joanie's word, Alex seems pretty near perfect. Their conversation flows more freely than the wine they're drinking, and Chris doesn't have to explain any of the obscure references he drops into the conversation. Alex keeps him on his toes, and keeps him laughing, and when, after their plates are taken away, Alex takes his hand, Chris practically has their china pattern picked out.
"How are you single?" Chris blurts without thinking.
"I'm picky," Alex shrugs. "I had a pretty serious boyfriend for about three years when his company transferred him. We agreed that the long-distance thing wouldn't work, so we went our separate ways. We stayed in touch, and he's still my best friend. I guess that when you've been with someone who treats you like you really deserve, you're less willing to settle for anything less."
Chris goes quiet, and Alex begins to look nervous. "He left over a year and a half ago. We really are just friends. I'm just saying that I know what I'm worth, I know what I want, and I don't see the point in acting like I don't.
"Listen," Alex says with a shy smile. "Enough about the past. I'd rather focus on the now. They usually have live music here, but they skipped it tonight because they knew it'd be a thin crowd. I think I could talk them into turning on a stereo, if you'd like to dance."
Chris pictures it, and when he nods in agreement, his smile is completely genuine.
Alex gets up from the table and talks to one of the waiters for a minute, then comes back and offers Chris his arm. "May I have this dance?" he asks.
"Since you asked so nicely," Chris smiles, and takes it as they make their way to the empty banquet room.
"We're lucky," Alex says softly as he begins to twirl Chris around the floor. "One of the waitresses had her iPod with her. Even if she hadn't," he whispers, bringing his face just inches from Chris's, "I'd have tried to talk you into dancing with me."
Their lips meet, and Chris feels himself turn into a bundle of rubber bands, both tangled and tight, all at once. Alex is gorgeous, and he smells amazing, and the night has been as perfect as he could have asked, but as wonderful as the kiss is, it doesn't feel right. Chris deepens it, hoping for more, but a sick feeling begins to form in his stomach, and he has to stop.
He holds tighter and hooks his chin over one of Alex's broad shoulders, his own fingers flying up to trace his lips. 'You're being ridiculous,' he tells himself, trying to find the happiness that had filled him just moments before.
A new song begins, all melancholy piano and subdued drums, and when the lyrics start, it's all that Chris can do to keep from falling. It may be a cover of one of his mother's favorite songs, but it's Darren's voice singing it.
"'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't. You can't make your heart feel something that it won't. Here in the dark in these final hours, I will lay down my heart, and I'll feel the power…but you won't."
The sick feeling on his stomach only deepens when he remembers that Darren's first major solo album was just released a few days before, and Darren's coy allusions to a cover that had really resonated while he'd been recording it just before filming ended.
"I'm sorry," Chris says in a choked voice, "I think I should go."
"What's wrong?" Alex asks. "Are you okay? We don't have to dance, we could just…have some desert, maybe? They have really good cannoli."
The lump in Chris's throat grows even larger, and it's all he can do to tilt up and place a kiss to Alex's cheek. "I'm sure they do," he sighs, "but my heart is set on baklava."
---
Chris speeds the entire way to Darren's house. The sweat on his palms is making his grip on the steering wheel a little slippery, and he's half-convinced the only thing allowing him to keep control of his car is the fact that he's holding on tight enough his knuckles are turning white.
It's only when he finally gets there that Chris pulls out his phone. "Answer, damnit," he mutters to himself as he waits for Darren to answer. He utters a few choice words when it goes to voice mail and promptly tries again. When, after three more tries, Darren still doesn't pick up, Chris clutches the steering wheel tightly and screams. This whole thing has been so stupid and complicated, right from the start. If Darren had just fucked him when Chris asked him to and left it at that, everything would have been fine. They could have saved themselves months of drama and misunderstandings, and maybe, just maybe, they could have stayed friends.
Even as he says it, he knows it isn't true. Not if Darren told him the truth, and Chris is pretty sure he did. What would he have gained from lying about it? Nothing, really. He'd have had more to gain by keeping quiet.
Chris tries one last time, but as soon as it starts ringing, a thought occurs to him. He feels like an even bigger idiot than he did the last night of the tour. It's the fourth of July, of course he's not answering. He's probably at a party somewhere. Hell, he's probably not even in town.
Chris gets out of the car and walks right up to the gate. There are tall hedges behind most of it, affording the house a comfortable amount of privacy, although the sliding entrance makes it possible to see a little bit. The first thing he notices is that Darren's car is sitting in the driveway. Not the garage, the driveway. Chris cranes his neck a little and spots the flickering images of Harold And Kumar Go To White Castle playing on the TV set through a half-closed window.
"Okay," he mutters to himself. "Car's here, TV's on, he's got to be here." He hits the button for the intercom, but just like the phone, there's no answer. 'What the fuck?' he thinks to himself. 'What he hell is going on?'
Most reasonable people would take this as a sign to leave. Chris is not most people, and right now, he's not sure he's very reasonable either. Lifting one foot into the scrollwork of the iron gate, he hoists himself up, plants his other foot a little higher and vaults himself over it.
He lands on the ground without incident, and after quickly brushing off his clothes he heads for the house. Knocking on the door leads to the same result as the phone and intercom; he rolls his eyes for expecting anything else. A quick glance in the window shows that although the TV is on, the sofa is empty, and Chris feels his heart sink. Just as he begins to wonder exactly how long he has until someone sees him prowling and calls the cops, one last idea comes to him.
He sprints from the front of the house to the narrow path that separates it from the detached garage, running into the backyard. When he sees the hammock swinging heavily in the corner, he almost has to laugh. Without hesitation, he launches himself across the yard and throws himself into the hammock on top of Darren's sleeping form.
"What the…" Darren mumbles, swatting in front of his face. "Chris? What are you doing here?"
"Throwing away my chances with the hottest gay man I've ever seen outside of my computer," Chris deadpans. "Hot, smart, and very obviously interested, so if you choose now to tell me you didn't mean any of that stuff you said in the hotel, you should be prepared to suffer the consequences."
"I meant it," Darren says lamely. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know," Chris practically screams. "I don't know a lot of things, but the one thing I do know is that I just behaved like a crazed stalker because you weren't answering your phone, and I couldn't stand having to wait any longer."
"Longer for what?" Darren asks right before Chris answers his question by clamping his lips over Darren's and kissing him so hard that they both forget to breathe. "Oh," he pants once Chris pulls away. "That."
"Yeah," Chris nods. "That. I've tried meeting other people, Darren. You know what I learned? I don't want other people. I want you, damn it. You and all of your crazy, hyper, annoyingly hipster self."
"You think I'm annoying?" Darren asks, clearly confused.
"You never sleep. You're constantly bouncing off of the walls. You can't do anything halfway. You're nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. You know more about Disney princesses than most seven-year-old girls. You have horrible taste in socks. So yes, Darren, you are kind of annoying, but I like it because you're you. I even like that thing you do with the bibles, even though my grandmother would probably smack you on your behind if she found out about it."
"Really?" Daren grins. "Kinky."
"Oh, god," Chris groans, "are you actually into that kind of thing?"
"Maybe," Darren winks. "Are you?"
"I wouldn't know," Chris says, "I haven't got a lot of practice with this sort of thing, but what little I have had was kind of amazing."
"Only kind of?" Darren asks, staring up at Chris's lips.
"Shut up and kiss me," Chris whispers, and like a good boy, Darren does.
"Would it be out of line for me to suggest we take this inside?" he asks hopefully, hands firmly wrapped around Chris's hips.
"No," Chris answers after a moment's hesitation, "but I'm not going to say yes, if you do." Darren's face clouds, and Chris grins as he mouths his way up Darren's jaw to his ear. "Last time, we did it your way. This time, we're going to do it mine."
---
Once in the car, they can't stop talking. About why Darren wasn't off at some barbecue (he'd planned on going to one, but fell asleep in the hammock and decided against it when Chris had shown up), about Lea's last tweet - full of enthusiasm!! for!! her!! new!! project!! - about the sales of Chris's book (through the roof), and Darren's album (same), everything, it seems, except for what's going on between them.
"Darren?" Chris ventures after a lengthy pause.
"Yeah?" Darren responds as he leans back in his seat, sunglasses perched on his nose and bare feet dangling out of the window.
Chris tightens his grip on the steering wheel and takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry, and thank you."
"How are those related?" Darren asks, sliding his sunglasses up on top of his head and casting a curious look in Chris's direction.
"They aren't," Chris answers, "and they are."
"Chris?"
"Yes, Darren?"
"That makes no sense, whatsoever."
"Yeah, well," Chris says, pulling a face of mock-annoyance, "if we're going to be in a relationship, it's only fair that we both get to sound ridiculous from time to time."
"So this is a relationship now, is it?" Darren teases. "Gee, I don't know if I'm ready for that level of commitment, I mean-"
"Do you want me to turn this car around right now?" Chris asks. "I could, you know. Yes, I'd drive right through that taco place over there, but that doesn't mean I won't."
"Oh, man," Darren says, turning to look out the window. "Can we, really? Tacos sound really good."
"Dear god," Chris half-groans, half-laughs. "We've been…whatever we are for less than half an hour, and I can already tell how…whatever it is is going to be."
"Yeah?" Darren asks, reaching up to flick at his earpiece making the shades bounce up and down atop his head. "How's that?"
"For one thing," Chris grins, stealing Darren's glasses and slipping them onto his own face, "I don't think either of us will ever get bored."
---
Twenty minutes and one monster burrito with sour cream and guacamole later, Chris is leading Darren up the stairs and into his bedroom. "It isn't as fancy as the place you took me, but it does have its benefits."
"Like not requiring I'm gone by eleven?" Darren asks.
"Yes, yes," Chris nods. "I promise not to make you leave until at least noon."
"Smart ass," Darren laughs, sliding an arm around Chris's waist and pulling him close.
"I don't know about smart," Chris says, raising one eyebrow, "but you seemed to like it last time."
"I like you," Darren murmurs, tilting Chris's chin down and pressing a soft kiss against his lips.
"Okay," Chris breathes against Darren's mouth. "You can stay until twelve thirty."
"Deal," Darren smiles softly then takes Chris's hand to lace their fingers together. "You're forgiven, and you're welcome."
"I thought you didn't know what I meant," Chris whispers, feeling suddenly vulnerable.
"I don't," Darren says, blinking his eyes slowly and nodding his head, "but I've decided to accept it anyway."
This time, it's Chris who initiates the kiss. He runs the fingers of his free hand down the side of Darren's face, then cups his jaw and dives in to take Darren's lips in his. They're just as soft and warm as ever, but there's a buzz that wasn't there before. It's a feeling of warmth and contentment that starts at Chris's lips and wanders all the way down to his toes. Even if it took him twenty-two years and change to feel it, he's sure it was worth the wait.
---
Once they're on the bed, everything feels a little bit unreal. Their first time had been perfect, but it had also been planned with more precision than most celebrity weddings. Now on their own, with no plan of action beyond trying to get as close as possible without somehow bending the laws of physics, it's a different story. They're both in such a rush that things just keep going wrong. There's the moment when Darren accidentally elbows Chris in the ribs when they both roll in the wrong direction at the same time. There's the time when Chris reaches to brush a curl from Darren's forehead and accidentally pokes him in the eye. There's an incident when Darren rolls too quickly onto Chris and knocks the wind out of him in the process. It's only when Chris yelps in surprise and jerks his leg suddenly enough that Darren almost gets kneed in the crotch that they both fall to their backs and take a deep breath.
"Why is this so hard?" Chris asks, staring at the ceiling.
"It usually isn't," Darren says, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. "It takes practice, though. Man, my first few times…let's just say I'm glad my exes are all nice people."
"You're not doing much for my confidence levels, Darren," Chris sighs, squeezing back.
"It's okay," Darren says, rolling onto his side and tilting Chris's face toward his own. "Maybe if we both just slow down a little, it'll work itself out."
Chris closes the distance, and this time when he takes Darren into his arms, he tries to focus on how happy he is and how good it feels, not so damn much about what will come next. Instead of trying to decide where he should put his hands, he follows Darren's lead. When Darren cups his cheeks, Chris brings his face closer. When Darren mouths at his neck, he stretches it to offer the best angle. When Darren's hips surge forward and press against his, Chris cups Darren's ass in his hands and pulls him even closer.
"Jesus," Darren gasps, feeling how hard Chris is through his own pants. "Guess we got the awkward part out of the way for now."
"Yeah," Chris sighs before taking Darren's ear between his teeth and giving a little tug. "For now."
Darren tugs at Chris's tie and slips it off with a smirk. "Awfully dressed up. Hope the poor guy was worth it."
"He was," Chris says, tugging Darren's shirt up and over his head. "And yet, I'm here with you."
"Yes, you are," Darren nods, unbuttoning Chris's shirt. "Lucky me."
Bit by bit, the rest of their clothing finds its way to the floor. Chris's pants are in one spot, Darren's shorts in another and their underwear, fittingly enough, tangled together between. There's still the odd moments of 'crap, where do I put that arm / leg / whatever,' but for the most part, it all just works. Darren clearly learned well during their first night; he lavishes so much attention on Chris's sensitive spots that Chris thinks he might just have to be pried off of the ceiling before the night is through. As for Chris, he's having the time of his life discovering Darren's. There's the small of his back for one, and the way he shudders as Chris drags the underside of his lip against the skin is so damn satisfying, Chris can't help but laugh. There are other spots, of course, but the one that surprises them both is, of all things, the palms of Darren's hands.
Chris takes his time with them once he's realized how much potential they carry. He brushes against them with the tip of his nose, covers them with soft, fluttering kisses, and, seeking out what Ashley has told him before is the "love line," traces it with the pointed tip of his tongue. He feels Darren's body begin to tense, and he looks up at him with anticipation. "Darren?" he asks.
"Yeah," Darren rasps, one hand offered to Chris's mouth, the other tangled in his hair.
"I want to taste you somewhere else now," he says, voice low with want. Darren mutters a vague obscenity in agreement, and Chris doesn't waste any time before scooting down to the foot of the bed and straddling Darren's legs. He looks down at Darren's cock, so thick and dusky pink, and gently laps at it with the tip of his tongue. He experiments, first tracing every line he can spot - from the ridge just beneath the head to the veins that run along its length - then taking broad, flat strokes with his tongue. Once he feels more or less confident that he knows what Darren likes best, he takes a breath and sinks his mouth over him. It's strange, but good, and he does his best to ease his way into it instead of taking him all at once the way he wants. All too soon, Darren's pushing him off. Chris's mood darkens, wondering if Darren's going to make a habit of stopping things once they start getting good.
"You learn quick," Darren pants, "but if we don't stop this, I'm not going to be able to do what I really want."
"Oh?" Chris asks, feeling half disappointed and half curious. "What's that?"
"To be inside you," Darren answers, pulling Chris up to press a hungry kiss against his mouth.
Chris groans as he rolls over and pulls a box of condoms and bottle of lube from his nightstand, handing both to Darren. "Put them wherever you want," he gasps, bringing their lips just millimeters apart, "just make sure they're close at hand."
Darren grins, then quickly coats two fingers before grabbing Chris by the waist and bringing them both to their knees, facing one another. He reaches behind Chris, stroking lightly down his back with his dry pinkie and index fingers before giving Chris's hip a squeeze and dipping the two slick fingers between the two halves of his ass and teasing them against the tight ring. "Are you ready?" he asks, and when Chris gives only a strangled gasp in response, Darren pressed the first one in. He does his best to be patient, to take his time and try to get Chris off before much more happens, but he can't make himself wait any longer than he already has. Once he's got both fingers working smoothly, he reaches for the condoms and pulls one from the long strip inside. "Turn around," Darren murmurs, looking down to roll the condom over his aching cock.
Chris looks at him with confusion, but Darren just smiles as if to say 'trust me,' so Chris does. He gets onto his hands and knees, wondering why Darren's insisting on doing it this way; it had been so great when they were face to face. Even so, he’s not curious enough to bother asking and potentially stopping things before they start, and when Darren pushes into him, he stops caring. All he wants to think about is how good it feels to be so full, and how wonderful it is to have the heat from Darren's body so close to his.
Just as Chris is getting used to it though, Darren takes a firm hold of his hips and pulls Chris down with him as he bends his knees and comes to a sitting position. They're still connected, only now they're joined from knees, where Chris's fit perfectly over Darren's, to shoulder, where Darren's neck is now crooked. Their hips roll slowly together, rocking into one another in a languid rhythm that's only emphasized by the way their upper bodies are pressed against each other. Darren's chest is warm and solid against Chris's back, and when Darren wraps his arms around Chris's waist and whispers into his ear, Chris doesn't think he's ever felt so treasured.
"You were worth waiting for," Darren's voice says, and because this is Darren, who makes everyone feel like the best version of themselves possible, Chris has no trouble believing that it's true.
"So were you, even if I didn't know it right away," Chris murmurs, craning his head to capture Darren's mouth in a kiss that says everything he wants to say but can't. He shifts his hips just a bit, but it's enough to make everything line up just right, and as the fireworks start going off in the distance, Chris begins to feel a few of his own.
---
Chris's bed may not be covered in luxury bedding or have a half-dozen pillows, but it was one of the first things he bought when he left home to work on Glee, and it might be his favorite thing in the house. It's just the right blend of firm and soft, and even now, over three years later, he still remembers the way he'd stretched out in it that first night, running his hand along the empty pillow beside him and wondering if the day would ever come when he'd have someone to share it with.
He'd been so damn lonely then. No real friends, no one to trust with his secrets, and not willing to admit some things weren't as secret as he hoped. Now, he's friends with the most amazing and talented people he's ever known. People who love and support him in everything he does, and somehow manage to make him feel like both Spider-Man and Peter Parker at once, both in the best possible way. He's made a name for himself as a force to be reckoned with, and he's done it without sacrificing his integrity or his principles. His family is proud of him. The entire world feels as if it's his for the taking, and he's grabbing for more each and every day.
It's a good feeling, being Chris Colfer.
In the darkened room, he props himself up on one elbow, looks down at Darren's sleeping face, and smiles. He's never felt like he needed a man to make him whole, he still doesn't think that now, but he's got to admit that he's looking forward to finding out how he and Darren will fit into each others' lives from here on out.
Silently, he pulls a book from his nightstand and quickly scribbles something inside. It's not the neatest, since he only has the little bit of light filtering through the window, but he's sure it's good enough.
"Darren?" Chris asks, shaking him gently by one shoulder.
"Chris?" Darren answers blearily. "When you said twelve-thirty, I thought you meant in the afternoon."
"Here," Chris says, handing over a bible much like the one Darren had given him. "It's from the room Ashley and I stayed in the last night of the tour. I knew I'd want to give it to you someday, but I didn't know what I wanted to say until now."
Darren rubs his eyes and squints to read the inscription in the near-dark. "I could never forget you," it reads in Chris's loose handwriting, and Darren runs his finger over the words before snapping the book shut and resting it on the nightstand. "You'll never get the chance," he says, taking Chris's face in his hands and pressing a single kiss deliberately between the eyebrows. "Not if I have anything to say about it."
"You might," Chris grins, wrapping his arms around Darren's neck and slinging one knee over his hip. "I think you just might." As the two of them fall back into one another, a tangle of arms and legs and sweat and skin, a song pops into Chris's head. A song he's dreaded since it first entered his life, but somehow now fills him with a completely different feeling. It's not exactly like hope, but it's something very close. It's a sense of knowing that sometimes, the things that seem the most mortifying are the ones that lead to the best rewards, and somehow, some way, everything works out in the end.
You said you're gonna meet me,
Tonight's the night.
You said you're gonna kiss me,
Tonight's the night,
Well I don't know,
Said I don't know right now
I might love you so.
You say you're gonna beg me,
Turn the lights down low
You said you're gonna make me
Feel all aglow.
Well I don't know,
Well I don't know right now
I might love you so.
I might love you so much.
You may break my heart.
I may want you so much
And all my dream been torn apart.
You say you're gonna love me,
Tonight's the night.
You say you're gonna hold me,
Tonight's the night.
I don't know.
Said I don't know right now.
I might love you so.
Let's take a chance.
Gonna be a great romance
Movin' right now,
Gonna be a great romance
The End
Stat Web Count
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,500
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.
Five days later, Chris is sitting across from what may be the hottest guy he's ever seen in person.
Alex belongs to a class Chris swore he'd never consider - that of actor-slash-model. It hadn't taken Chris long after arriving in Los Angeles to realize that at least half the potential dating pool consisted of this dreaded classification, and he'd vowed early on to never "go there." If he hadn't been a friend of Joanie's - one of the makeup artists on the show - Chris never would have agreed to this date. She'd tried suggesting it for almost a year before finally giving up, and was more than thrilled to give him Alex's phone number when Chris called her in a fit of frustration the day the day after his last club adventure.
True to Joanie's word, Alex seems pretty near perfect. Their conversation flows more freely than the wine they're drinking, and Chris doesn't have to explain any of the obscure references he drops into the conversation. Alex keeps him on his toes, and keeps him laughing, and when, after their plates are taken away, Alex takes his hand, Chris practically has their china pattern picked out.
"How are you single?" Chris blurts without thinking.
"I'm picky," Alex shrugs. "I had a pretty serious boyfriend for about three years when his company transferred him. We agreed that the long-distance thing wouldn't work, so we went our separate ways. We stayed in touch, and he's still my best friend. I guess that when you've been with someone who treats you like you really deserve, you're less willing to settle for anything less."
Chris goes quiet, and Alex begins to look nervous. "He left over a year and a half ago. We really are just friends. I'm just saying that I know what I'm worth, I know what I want, and I don't see the point in acting like I don't.
"Listen," Alex says with a shy smile. "Enough about the past. I'd rather focus on the now. They usually have live music here, but they skipped it tonight because they knew it'd be a thin crowd. I think I could talk them into turning on a stereo, if you'd like to dance."
Chris pictures it, and when he nods in agreement, his smile is completely genuine.
Alex gets up from the table and talks to one of the waiters for a minute, then comes back and offers Chris his arm. "May I have this dance?" he asks.
"Since you asked so nicely," Chris smiles, and takes it as they make their way to the empty banquet room.
"We're lucky," Alex says softly as he begins to twirl Chris around the floor. "One of the waitresses had her iPod with her. Even if she hadn't," he whispers, bringing his face just inches from Chris's, "I'd have tried to talk you into dancing with me."
Their lips meet, and Chris feels himself turn into a bundle of rubber bands, both tangled and tight, all at once. Alex is gorgeous, and he smells amazing, and the night has been as perfect as he could have asked, but as wonderful as the kiss is, it doesn't feel right. Chris deepens it, hoping for more, but a sick feeling begins to form in his stomach, and he has to stop.
He holds tighter and hooks his chin over one of Alex's broad shoulders, his own fingers flying up to trace his lips. 'You're being ridiculous,' he tells himself, trying to find the happiness that had filled him just moments before.
A new song begins, all melancholy piano and subdued drums, and when the lyrics start, it's all that Chris can do to keep from falling. It may be a cover of one of his mother's favorite songs, but it's Darren's voice singing it.
"'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't. You can't make your heart feel something that it won't. Here in the dark in these final hours, I will lay down my heart, and I'll feel the power…but you won't."
The sick feeling on his stomach only deepens when he remembers that Darren's first major solo album was just released a few days before, and Darren's coy allusions to a cover that had really resonated while he'd been recording it just before filming ended.
"I'm sorry," Chris says in a choked voice, "I think I should go."
"What's wrong?" Alex asks. "Are you okay? We don't have to dance, we could just…have some desert, maybe? They have really good cannoli."
The lump in Chris's throat grows even larger, and it's all he can do to tilt up and place a kiss to Alex's cheek. "I'm sure they do," he sighs, "but my heart is set on baklava."
---
Chris speeds the entire way to Darren's house. The sweat on his palms is making his grip on the steering wheel a little slippery, and he's half-convinced the only thing allowing him to keep control of his car is the fact that he's holding on tight enough his knuckles are turning white.
It's only when he finally gets there that Chris pulls out his phone. "Answer, damnit," he mutters to himself as he waits for Darren to answer. He utters a few choice words when it goes to voice mail and promptly tries again. When, after three more tries, Darren still doesn't pick up, Chris clutches the steering wheel tightly and screams. This whole thing has been so stupid and complicated, right from the start. If Darren had just fucked him when Chris asked him to and left it at that, everything would have been fine. They could have saved themselves months of drama and misunderstandings, and maybe, just maybe, they could have stayed friends.
Even as he says it, he knows it isn't true. Not if Darren told him the truth, and Chris is pretty sure he did. What would he have gained from lying about it? Nothing, really. He'd have had more to gain by keeping quiet.
Chris tries one last time, but as soon as it starts ringing, a thought occurs to him. He feels like an even bigger idiot than he did the last night of the tour. It's the fourth of July, of course he's not answering. He's probably at a party somewhere. Hell, he's probably not even in town.
Chris gets out of the car and walks right up to the gate. There are tall hedges behind most of it, affording the house a comfortable amount of privacy, although the sliding entrance makes it possible to see a little bit. The first thing he notices is that Darren's car is sitting in the driveway. Not the garage, the driveway. Chris cranes his neck a little and spots the flickering images of Harold And Kumar Go To White Castle playing on the TV set through a half-closed window.
"Okay," he mutters to himself. "Car's here, TV's on, he's got to be here." He hits the button for the intercom, but just like the phone, there's no answer. 'What the fuck?' he thinks to himself. 'What he hell is going on?'
Most reasonable people would take this as a sign to leave. Chris is not most people, and right now, he's not sure he's very reasonable either. Lifting one foot into the scrollwork of the iron gate, he hoists himself up, plants his other foot a little higher and vaults himself over it.
He lands on the ground without incident, and after quickly brushing off his clothes he heads for the house. Knocking on the door leads to the same result as the phone and intercom; he rolls his eyes for expecting anything else. A quick glance in the window shows that although the TV is on, the sofa is empty, and Chris feels his heart sink. Just as he begins to wonder exactly how long he has until someone sees him prowling and calls the cops, one last idea comes to him.
He sprints from the front of the house to the narrow path that separates it from the detached garage, running into the backyard. When he sees the hammock swinging heavily in the corner, he almost has to laugh. Without hesitation, he launches himself across the yard and throws himself into the hammock on top of Darren's sleeping form.
"What the…" Darren mumbles, swatting in front of his face. "Chris? What are you doing here?"
"Throwing away my chances with the hottest gay man I've ever seen outside of my computer," Chris deadpans. "Hot, smart, and very obviously interested, so if you choose now to tell me you didn't mean any of that stuff you said in the hotel, you should be prepared to suffer the consequences."
"I meant it," Darren says lamely. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know," Chris practically screams. "I don't know a lot of things, but the one thing I do know is that I just behaved like a crazed stalker because you weren't answering your phone, and I couldn't stand having to wait any longer."
"Longer for what?" Darren asks right before Chris answers his question by clamping his lips over Darren's and kissing him so hard that they both forget to breathe. "Oh," he pants once Chris pulls away. "That."
"Yeah," Chris nods. "That. I've tried meeting other people, Darren. You know what I learned? I don't want other people. I want you, damn it. You and all of your crazy, hyper, annoyingly hipster self."
"You think I'm annoying?" Darren asks, clearly confused.
"You never sleep. You're constantly bouncing off of the walls. You can't do anything halfway. You're nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. You know more about Disney princesses than most seven-year-old girls. You have horrible taste in socks. So yes, Darren, you are kind of annoying, but I like it because you're you. I even like that thing you do with the bibles, even though my grandmother would probably smack you on your behind if she found out about it."
"Really?" Daren grins. "Kinky."
"Oh, god," Chris groans, "are you actually into that kind of thing?"
"Maybe," Darren winks. "Are you?"
"I wouldn't know," Chris says, "I haven't got a lot of practice with this sort of thing, but what little I have had was kind of amazing."
"Only kind of?" Darren asks, staring up at Chris's lips.
"Shut up and kiss me," Chris whispers, and like a good boy, Darren does.
"Would it be out of line for me to suggest we take this inside?" he asks hopefully, hands firmly wrapped around Chris's hips.
"No," Chris answers after a moment's hesitation, "but I'm not going to say yes, if you do." Darren's face clouds, and Chris grins as he mouths his way up Darren's jaw to his ear. "Last time, we did it your way. This time, we're going to do it mine."
---
Once in the car, they can't stop talking. About why Darren wasn't off at some barbecue (he'd planned on going to one, but fell asleep in the hammock and decided against it when Chris had shown up), about Lea's last tweet - full of enthusiasm!! for!! her!! new!! project!! - about the sales of Chris's book (through the roof), and Darren's album (same), everything, it seems, except for what's going on between them.
"Darren?" Chris ventures after a lengthy pause.
"Yeah?" Darren responds as he leans back in his seat, sunglasses perched on his nose and bare feet dangling out of the window.
Chris tightens his grip on the steering wheel and takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry, and thank you."
"How are those related?" Darren asks, sliding his sunglasses up on top of his head and casting a curious look in Chris's direction.
"They aren't," Chris answers, "and they are."
"Chris?"
"Yes, Darren?"
"That makes no sense, whatsoever."
"Yeah, well," Chris says, pulling a face of mock-annoyance, "if we're going to be in a relationship, it's only fair that we both get to sound ridiculous from time to time."
"So this is a relationship now, is it?" Darren teases. "Gee, I don't know if I'm ready for that level of commitment, I mean-"
"Do you want me to turn this car around right now?" Chris asks. "I could, you know. Yes, I'd drive right through that taco place over there, but that doesn't mean I won't."
"Oh, man," Darren says, turning to look out the window. "Can we, really? Tacos sound really good."
"Dear god," Chris half-groans, half-laughs. "We've been…whatever we are for less than half an hour, and I can already tell how…whatever it is is going to be."
"Yeah?" Darren asks, reaching up to flick at his earpiece making the shades bounce up and down atop his head. "How's that?"
"For one thing," Chris grins, stealing Darren's glasses and slipping them onto his own face, "I don't think either of us will ever get bored."
---
Twenty minutes and one monster burrito with sour cream and guacamole later, Chris is leading Darren up the stairs and into his bedroom. "It isn't as fancy as the place you took me, but it does have its benefits."
"Like not requiring I'm gone by eleven?" Darren asks.
"Yes, yes," Chris nods. "I promise not to make you leave until at least noon."
"Smart ass," Darren laughs, sliding an arm around Chris's waist and pulling him close.
"I don't know about smart," Chris says, raising one eyebrow, "but you seemed to like it last time."
"I like you," Darren murmurs, tilting Chris's chin down and pressing a soft kiss against his lips.
"Okay," Chris breathes against Darren's mouth. "You can stay until twelve thirty."
"Deal," Darren smiles softly then takes Chris's hand to lace their fingers together. "You're forgiven, and you're welcome."
"I thought you didn't know what I meant," Chris whispers, feeling suddenly vulnerable.
"I don't," Darren says, blinking his eyes slowly and nodding his head, "but I've decided to accept it anyway."
This time, it's Chris who initiates the kiss. He runs the fingers of his free hand down the side of Darren's face, then cups his jaw and dives in to take Darren's lips in his. They're just as soft and warm as ever, but there's a buzz that wasn't there before. It's a feeling of warmth and contentment that starts at Chris's lips and wanders all the way down to his toes. Even if it took him twenty-two years and change to feel it, he's sure it was worth the wait.
---
Once they're on the bed, everything feels a little bit unreal. Their first time had been perfect, but it had also been planned with more precision than most celebrity weddings. Now on their own, with no plan of action beyond trying to get as close as possible without somehow bending the laws of physics, it's a different story. They're both in such a rush that things just keep going wrong. There's the moment when Darren accidentally elbows Chris in the ribs when they both roll in the wrong direction at the same time. There's the time when Chris reaches to brush a curl from Darren's forehead and accidentally pokes him in the eye. There's an incident when Darren rolls too quickly onto Chris and knocks the wind out of him in the process. It's only when Chris yelps in surprise and jerks his leg suddenly enough that Darren almost gets kneed in the crotch that they both fall to their backs and take a deep breath.
"Why is this so hard?" Chris asks, staring at the ceiling.
"It usually isn't," Darren says, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. "It takes practice, though. Man, my first few times…let's just say I'm glad my exes are all nice people."
"You're not doing much for my confidence levels, Darren," Chris sighs, squeezing back.
"It's okay," Darren says, rolling onto his side and tilting Chris's face toward his own. "Maybe if we both just slow down a little, it'll work itself out."
Chris closes the distance, and this time when he takes Darren into his arms, he tries to focus on how happy he is and how good it feels, not so damn much about what will come next. Instead of trying to decide where he should put his hands, he follows Darren's lead. When Darren cups his cheeks, Chris brings his face closer. When Darren mouths at his neck, he stretches it to offer the best angle. When Darren's hips surge forward and press against his, Chris cups Darren's ass in his hands and pulls him even closer.
"Jesus," Darren gasps, feeling how hard Chris is through his own pants. "Guess we got the awkward part out of the way for now."
"Yeah," Chris sighs before taking Darren's ear between his teeth and giving a little tug. "For now."
Darren tugs at Chris's tie and slips it off with a smirk. "Awfully dressed up. Hope the poor guy was worth it."
"He was," Chris says, tugging Darren's shirt up and over his head. "And yet, I'm here with you."
"Yes, you are," Darren nods, unbuttoning Chris's shirt. "Lucky me."
Bit by bit, the rest of their clothing finds its way to the floor. Chris's pants are in one spot, Darren's shorts in another and their underwear, fittingly enough, tangled together between. There's still the odd moments of 'crap, where do I put that arm / leg / whatever,' but for the most part, it all just works. Darren clearly learned well during their first night; he lavishes so much attention on Chris's sensitive spots that Chris thinks he might just have to be pried off of the ceiling before the night is through. As for Chris, he's having the time of his life discovering Darren's. There's the small of his back for one, and the way he shudders as Chris drags the underside of his lip against the skin is so damn satisfying, Chris can't help but laugh. There are other spots, of course, but the one that surprises them both is, of all things, the palms of Darren's hands.
Chris takes his time with them once he's realized how much potential they carry. He brushes against them with the tip of his nose, covers them with soft, fluttering kisses, and, seeking out what Ashley has told him before is the "love line," traces it with the pointed tip of his tongue. He feels Darren's body begin to tense, and he looks up at him with anticipation. "Darren?" he asks.
"Yeah," Darren rasps, one hand offered to Chris's mouth, the other tangled in his hair.
"I want to taste you somewhere else now," he says, voice low with want. Darren mutters a vague obscenity in agreement, and Chris doesn't waste any time before scooting down to the foot of the bed and straddling Darren's legs. He looks down at Darren's cock, so thick and dusky pink, and gently laps at it with the tip of his tongue. He experiments, first tracing every line he can spot - from the ridge just beneath the head to the veins that run along its length - then taking broad, flat strokes with his tongue. Once he feels more or less confident that he knows what Darren likes best, he takes a breath and sinks his mouth over him. It's strange, but good, and he does his best to ease his way into it instead of taking him all at once the way he wants. All too soon, Darren's pushing him off. Chris's mood darkens, wondering if Darren's going to make a habit of stopping things once they start getting good.
"You learn quick," Darren pants, "but if we don't stop this, I'm not going to be able to do what I really want."
"Oh?" Chris asks, feeling half disappointed and half curious. "What's that?"
"To be inside you," Darren answers, pulling Chris up to press a hungry kiss against his mouth.
Chris groans as he rolls over and pulls a box of condoms and bottle of lube from his nightstand, handing both to Darren. "Put them wherever you want," he gasps, bringing their lips just millimeters apart, "just make sure they're close at hand."
Darren grins, then quickly coats two fingers before grabbing Chris by the waist and bringing them both to their knees, facing one another. He reaches behind Chris, stroking lightly down his back with his dry pinkie and index fingers before giving Chris's hip a squeeze and dipping the two slick fingers between the two halves of his ass and teasing them against the tight ring. "Are you ready?" he asks, and when Chris gives only a strangled gasp in response, Darren pressed the first one in. He does his best to be patient, to take his time and try to get Chris off before much more happens, but he can't make himself wait any longer than he already has. Once he's got both fingers working smoothly, he reaches for the condoms and pulls one from the long strip inside. "Turn around," Darren murmurs, looking down to roll the condom over his aching cock.
Chris looks at him with confusion, but Darren just smiles as if to say 'trust me,' so Chris does. He gets onto his hands and knees, wondering why Darren's insisting on doing it this way; it had been so great when they were face to face. Even so, he’s not curious enough to bother asking and potentially stopping things before they start, and when Darren pushes into him, he stops caring. All he wants to think about is how good it feels to be so full, and how wonderful it is to have the heat from Darren's body so close to his.
Just as Chris is getting used to it though, Darren takes a firm hold of his hips and pulls Chris down with him as he bends his knees and comes to a sitting position. They're still connected, only now they're joined from knees, where Chris's fit perfectly over Darren's, to shoulder, where Darren's neck is now crooked. Their hips roll slowly together, rocking into one another in a languid rhythm that's only emphasized by the way their upper bodies are pressed against each other. Darren's chest is warm and solid against Chris's back, and when Darren wraps his arms around Chris's waist and whispers into his ear, Chris doesn't think he's ever felt so treasured.
"You were worth waiting for," Darren's voice says, and because this is Darren, who makes everyone feel like the best version of themselves possible, Chris has no trouble believing that it's true.
"So were you, even if I didn't know it right away," Chris murmurs, craning his head to capture Darren's mouth in a kiss that says everything he wants to say but can't. He shifts his hips just a bit, but it's enough to make everything line up just right, and as the fireworks start going off in the distance, Chris begins to feel a few of his own.
---
Chris's bed may not be covered in luxury bedding or have a half-dozen pillows, but it was one of the first things he bought when he left home to work on Glee, and it might be his favorite thing in the house. It's just the right blend of firm and soft, and even now, over three years later, he still remembers the way he'd stretched out in it that first night, running his hand along the empty pillow beside him and wondering if the day would ever come when he'd have someone to share it with.
He'd been so damn lonely then. No real friends, no one to trust with his secrets, and not willing to admit some things weren't as secret as he hoped. Now, he's friends with the most amazing and talented people he's ever known. People who love and support him in everything he does, and somehow manage to make him feel like both Spider-Man and Peter Parker at once, both in the best possible way. He's made a name for himself as a force to be reckoned with, and he's done it without sacrificing his integrity or his principles. His family is proud of him. The entire world feels as if it's his for the taking, and he's grabbing for more each and every day.
It's a good feeling, being Chris Colfer.
In the darkened room, he props himself up on one elbow, looks down at Darren's sleeping face, and smiles. He's never felt like he needed a man to make him whole, he still doesn't think that now, but he's got to admit that he's looking forward to finding out how he and Darren will fit into each others' lives from here on out.
Silently, he pulls a book from his nightstand and quickly scribbles something inside. It's not the neatest, since he only has the little bit of light filtering through the window, but he's sure it's good enough.
"Darren?" Chris asks, shaking him gently by one shoulder.
"Chris?" Darren answers blearily. "When you said twelve-thirty, I thought you meant in the afternoon."
"Here," Chris says, handing over a bible much like the one Darren had given him. "It's from the room Ashley and I stayed in the last night of the tour. I knew I'd want to give it to you someday, but I didn't know what I wanted to say until now."
Darren rubs his eyes and squints to read the inscription in the near-dark. "I could never forget you," it reads in Chris's loose handwriting, and Darren runs his finger over the words before snapping the book shut and resting it on the nightstand. "You'll never get the chance," he says, taking Chris's face in his hands and pressing a single kiss deliberately between the eyebrows. "Not if I have anything to say about it."
"You might," Chris grins, wrapping his arms around Darren's neck and slinging one knee over his hip. "I think you just might." As the two of them fall back into one another, a tangle of arms and legs and sweat and skin, a song pops into Chris's head. A song he's dreaded since it first entered his life, but somehow now fills him with a completely different feeling. It's not exactly like hope, but it's something very close. It's a sense of knowing that sometimes, the things that seem the most mortifying are the ones that lead to the best rewards, and somehow, some way, everything works out in the end.
You said you're gonna meet me,
Tonight's the night.
You said you're gonna kiss me,
Tonight's the night,
Well I don't know,
Said I don't know right now
I might love you so.
You say you're gonna beg me,
Turn the lights down low
You said you're gonna make me
Feel all aglow.
Well I don't know,
Well I don't know right now
I might love you so.
I might love you so much.
You may break my heart.
I may want you so much
And all my dream been torn apart.
You say you're gonna love me,
Tonight's the night.
You say you're gonna hold me,
Tonight's the night.
I don't know.
Said I don't know right now.
I might love you so.
Let's take a chance.
Gonna be a great romance
Movin' right now,
Gonna be a great romance
The End
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