fic: whisper 'i love you' (epilogue)
title: whisper 'i love you'
pairing: crisscolfer
rating: nc-17
word count: 3000+ (this part)
summary: Chuck has a new best friend and Darren finds himself falling head over heels for something more curious and lovely than he thought could be real.
a/n: okay wow this is the very end and i am insanely upset. i'm sorry it took so long to get out, i have attachment issues and wanted the ending to perfect. i DID have to re-write a bit of this, due to a greeat error of mine, but here we are. endless thanks to Vic for fixing all my crap and being just so sweet and helpful to me for so long. and thanks to everyone who read this story, especially those who reviewed and made me feel like there were actually people reading when for the longest time i never thought there would be. thank you.
i'm making a little playlist to add to the masterpost which i will put up later today, but this is pretty much it, guys. here we go...
prologue ll chapter 1 ll chapter 2 ll chapter 3 ll chapter 4 ll chapter 5 ll chapter 6 ll chapter 7 ll chapter 8 ll chapter 9 ll chapter 10 ll chapter 11 ll chapter 12 ll chapter 13 ll chapter 13 ll chapter 14 ll chapter 15
--
As much as Chris would have liked to keep him wrapped in the warm, safe folds of his sheets for the rest of eternity, he had to let him go for a little bit. That first night they spent together may only be the opening sequence on the saga of the rest of their lives together, but it was exciting and thrilling and god, Chris couldn’t wait to see the rest of it play out.
Darren left so reluctantly, it hurt Chris a little to see him slip out that door, his lips kissed bruised, his eyes glassy, the breath knocked out of him as he craned his neck to peek once last glance over his shoulder.
The silence that followed the closing of the door had never been more deafening.
--
Darren felt like he was in a trance the entire way home. He felt light and airy, like the weight of the world was suddenly lifted and he was floating, flying away.
He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he trusted Chris to guide him on the right path.
Once he was home there was talking and shrieking (that his father would later deny) and so much laughter and tears that Darren felt he’d lived a lifetime in just 48 hours.
They were certainly the most memorable he’d lived thus far.
He was surprisingly sleepy for someone who had spent almost all day in bed, but as he fell into his own and stared blankly around the darkness, something seemed wrong.
And then he realised.
This wasn’t his home anymore.
His home was Chris - wherever he was, he was whole.
God, Chris was his whole now.
He was torn between the urge to roll onto his stomach and squeal into his pillow or run away and cry.
He was terrified.
His life was changing so quickly. He had two weeks left of school and then he was leaving England.
Leaving Chris, his whole.
He refused to let the tears that threatened slip past his lids as he shut them, rolling over and grabbing his spare pillow, tugging it to his chest, wishing now, more than ever, that he could go home.
--
The next morning was Monday and he spent the hours humming Mamas and the Papas under his breath.
He managed to make it through the day without throwing up once, but only just.
The graduation talk was nauseating.
Monday Monday… so good to me… Monday morning… it was all I hoped it would be…
He was still humming as he stepped into the house, toeing his shoes off at the door. He hung up his coat, smiling as the smell of his mother’s cooking drifted down the hall, the usual clutter of pots and pans as always, comforting.
He was about halfway down the hall, heading to help her out, when another body sprung out of the doorway and pinned him against the wall. He gasped as Chris pressed up against him, kissing him deep and warm. Darren’s toes curled under his damp socks and he reached up instinctively to thread his fingers through Chris’s hair and tug, smirking as Chris moaned into his mouth.
“How long till dinner?” Chris breathed, smattering kisses across his jaw, bursts of pleasure sparking like little pins under Darren’s skin.
“Long enough,” Darren insisted, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the stairs.
(He was wrong: it would never be long enough).
--
For the next two weeks passed much in the same fashion. Darren would struggle through school, his nerves building in tangled chords that lined his stomach for days, and Chris saving him in the summer nights, soothing him with kisses and whispers and I love you’s. They stole all the hours they could until graduation and then it all boiled over.
It was Chris, all Chris, always Chris. It was Chris’s proud smile he spotted amongst the sea of assembled family and friends at his graduation ceremony. It was Chris who held his hand and kept him sane all through dinner that night.
It was Chris who pressed his back into the sheets and loved him until he couldn’t see straight.
It was Chris who rubbed his back as he threw up his insides into the toilet bowl, and held him tight as he fell apart.
God, he was so fucking scared.
“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s all going to be okay.”
--
Their summer was sacred.
Stolen kisses when his parents weren’t looking; long languid days rolled together with warmth and endless embraces; talking all night until their throats were raw and they physically couldn’t go on.
It was all Darren had ever dreamed of.
He still saw his friends and god; he was going to miss them so much, Aubrey especially. But she was busy with preparation for Yale and her family so he didn’t see as much of her as he would have liked.
Even though Chris’s place was his favourite, they both thought it was best to spend as much time at Darren’s as possible.
“I get you forever,” Chris had put it, kissing his nose lightly. “What’s four years?”
But this was the last summer he’d ever spend calling his house home.
(Even if it wasn’t really. Not since Chris).
They still had their family dinners, and he still played with Chuck and helped his mom cook.
But the clock ticking over their heads was deafening.
--
Until it stopped.
The night before he left for Michigan, he was already packed, organised and ready. Or rather, as ready as he physically could be.
Emotionally?
Not so much.
His parents invited all their close family and friends over for an adorable little family dinner that made his heart clench and tears claw up his throat until he couldn’t hold them back anymore and he sobbed right into Chuck’s shoulder.
He wasn’t going to see most of these people for such a long time and it hurt.
It hurt so much.
After dinner, which lasted well into the night, his parents let him go home with Chris. They hugged him tightly, even if it wasn’t goodbye and his heart tugged at the way Darren’s mom crushed Chris to her chest, kissing his hair as if he was her own son.
Which, in her eyes, he probably already was.
--
They barely made it inside before Chris had Darren pressed against the hard wood of the door, each tugging frantically at the other’s clothes, Darren’s hands tight in Chris’s hair as he fell to his knees, his large baby doll eyes stabbing shots at his chest as he took Darren in his mouth, sucking him until he couldn’t breathe and their surroundings were reduced to a dizzy world of beautiful, consuming him.
It was frantic and desperate; the way Chris tugged him to bed, loving him rough, like they never had before. And Darren needed love - he needed months of Chris’s love, the love he’d be missing.
“Not forever.” Chris marked the words into his skin. “You’re going to come home to me.”
“I’ll never leave you,” Darren gasped, his insides wound tight, like the clock that threatened the end of their time. “Never. I-I love-”
Chris kissed the words right off his lips, fucking into him with hard snaps of his perfect but bruised hip bones until Darren came hard between them.
--
They didn’t sleep that night.
“Promise me,” Darren said, his gaze flickering over the rim of Chris’s favourite chipped mug, between the distant night out the window and the presence of the beautiful boy beside him, “that you will spend as much time as you can there… I don’t like the idea of you here… alone…”
“But I can see the stars from here,” Chris teased, nudging his shoulder playfully.
“And maybe I’ll be able to see them from my dorm?” Darren said wistfully. Chris laughed, ringing and loud, that stunning unreserved sound that Darren had come to adore and treasure with his entire soul.
“No…” Chris said, licking a drop of coffee from where it had dropped under his lip, “maybe I’ll be able to see you out there. Shining bright… like you were born to do.”
“Christopher Colfer!” Darren exclaimed, mouth dropping in mock horror - it was all he could do with the breath knocked out of him. “I’ve turned you into a sap!”
“I promise you when you’re gone I’ll rediscover the cynic in me,” Chris quipped dryly. “I wouldn’t want to make you feel guilty for ruining me.”
“Oh I plan to ruin you,” Darren huskily, rather enjoying the unmistakeable hitch in Chris’s breath, “but not your sappiness… I think you’re quite lovely as you are.”
“Darren Criss,” Chris teased, “you already have ruined me.”
Darren lifted an eyebrow.
“You’ve turned my entire world upside down.”
--
They had just enough coffee to keep their eyes from drooping closed. Darren didn’t want to miss a second of this - a second of him. He traced the lines of Chris’s jaw with heavy fingers and told him to talk. To tell him anything.
Tell him everything.
They sat by the window and watched as the sun rose, peeking it’s little face out from behind the shadow of the clouds that guarded the morning sky, the small traffic below dulled under the animated constant of Chris’s voice, weaving through enough stories to make Darren fall in love with him all over again.
“I think you’re the greatest writer who ever lived, Chris,” Darren said softly, tilting his head up to look at him fondly. Chris shot him a questionable look and Darren only grinned.
“You’re writing our story, aren’t you?”
Chris stilled for a moment, his face melting under one of love and incredulity.
“No,” he said earnestly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “We are. Together.”
--
They showered together and, after Darren dressed, Chris handed him one of his own hoodies, helping him put it on.
“Take me with you,” he said softly. Darren smiled.
“I am,” he returned, patting his heart. Chris kissed the back of his knuckles, squeezing his hand.
“I think you’re ready.”
(Darren wasn’t so sure)
When they arrived back at Darren’s house they were already ready for him, bags packed just outside the front door, his parents and Chuck and Aubrey all gathered in the living room. Darren’s heart caught at the sight of them and his throat felt thick.
“I’ll… I’ll be back in a moment,” he stuttered, racing up the stairs without another word.
Time to say goodbye.
And so he did. He traced the familiar walls, the familiar cream and bluebell patterns almost crowding him in. His room was cleaner than it had ever been, the usually dim light brighter with the absence of the book and sheet music towers stacked by the window. They’d managed to fix his light over the break, and the whole room was now cast in summer .
It was so strange.
It was strange that under the mess, in the broad daylight, stripped bare of all the things that had made it so sacred to him - his music, his books, his writings, his memories - it was just a room. An ordinary room.
It wasn’t his room anymore.
His heart lifted slightly.
Suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to say goodbye.
--
They carried his things to the bus stop together, Chris knocking shoulders with him every other beat, smiling softly as he did so.
It was sort of funny, he thought, as they placed his things down and sat down together, waiting, that this was where it all began, and where it was all ending, too.
But it wasn’t really ending at all, he realised, Chris’s hand squeezing his too tightly as the familiar clutter of the bus speeding down the street sounded and they were all getting to their feet.
Because nothing, he decided, trying not to cry as his mom cradled his head to her chest, kissing his hair in messy smatters, sobs vibrating under her touch; nothing really ends.
His father took him from his mother’s arms next, hugging him close and murmuring his trademark, “Go get ‘em,” in his ears, making Darren grin.
Aubrey was next, her soft touch warmer than usual. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for being the only one…” she shook her head then, pulling back with a watery smile, “you’ll be amazing.”
“You’ll be extraordinary,” Chris corrected, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he held his arms out to him. Darren fell against him, clinging tight to his back and bones, breathing him in deep. He would need this moment forever.
“I love you so much,” Darren murmured, as Chris cradled his jaw, touching their foreheads just lightly before kissing his lips lush and deep, sending warmth through his entirety, his whole body lighting up with the touch.
“I love you,” Chris intoned, pulling back gently, taking Darren’s hand in his and slipping a small envelope into it. “For the bus… and forever.”
Darren nodded - he understood.
God, it was so hard to turn away from him, but there was Chuck, pulling him in for one last hug, messing up his hair with calloused hands.
“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” he said loudly before ducking down and speaking quietly against his ear.
“I’ll take care of him. I promise.”
Nodding gratefully, Darren finally pried his fingers from where they’d dug into the fabrics of his shirt. He swallowed the thick lump in his chest, quickly hugging them all once more before the bus driver bellowed for all the passengers to fucking board already.
Lovely city, London was.
(He would miss it dearly).
Sniffing as final tears wet his lashes, he waved frantically as he boarded, his eyes lingering on the boy he loved.
God, he was going to miss him.
He would miss everything.
He finally stepped onto the bus and handed the grumbling driver his ticket. He found a seat in the back, before the shutter of the doors crackled shut.
Unable to help himself, he quickly dug the envelope out of his pocket, tearing into it, his heart beating fast as he took out the Polaroid tucked inside.
It was him, taken a long time ago, a day he still remembered.
They’d just been sitting there, watching the boys rehearse and Chris had been taking photos for his latest assignment. Darren had been working on an essay half-heartedly beside him on the couch, too distracted by the warm press of Chris’s thigh against his to concentrate too hard.
The band didn’t help, either.
He had been scratching out a weak sentence when the tell-tale click had sounded too loud beside him and he looked up startled as Chris lowered his camera, smiling sheepishly.
“What’s the assignment again?” Darren had asked shyly, trying to fight the blush that had burned under his skin. Chris bit his lip, turning away.
“What assignment?” he had said softly.
And he had turned it over in his mind all night before he had been distracted by the news of the tour, but it was now that it all came flooding back to him.
Write about something that inspires you.
He examined the photo carefully, struggling to find anything inspiring in the sight of himself, huddled in a thick jumper and tattered jeans, his brightly socked feet tucked over him, glasses slipping down his nose, hiding the confusion in his eyes. His hair was a mess, hidden under the purple of his cotton beanie.
God, what did Chris ever see in him?
A sudden thought struck him and he hastily flipped the photograph over, his heart stuttering as he caught the smatter of words embedded in familiar black ink.
And his sneakers scuffed across the pavement, tracking lines across his heart, the marks of his presence, the places he’d been, the places he still had to go. He was a traveller, always restless, unable to still himself. And he had gotten inside me, never still but just tangibly present; gnawing, itching, tickling at my chest, like an incessant cough and I couldn’t get him out. It was too small, on the tip of my tongue, but always there, hardly perceptive, yet tangible, in a whistle, in a whisper;
‘I love you’.
As the bus lurched into drive, shocking him out of his stunned stillness, he half leapt out of his seat, hurling open the jarred windows and leant out into the open air.
He spotted his family where he’d left them, all craning their necks to watch as the bus began to move. Chuck had his arm around Chris and Darren’s mom was pressed tightly into his dad’s side. Aubrey stood with them, demure as ever with her hands tucked into her sweater pockets. They were all smiling widely but Darren had eyes for only one of them.
“Chris!” he yelled, watching with delight as Chris’s startled eyes widened. “I hope you got an A!”
Shock flickered in his eyes for a moment, then slowly faded to recognition and he blushed a little but smiled widely, his teeth poking out in the crinkly eyed, scrunchy smile Darren loved so much.
God, he was still the most beautiful thing.
And he always would be.
Always.
He chanced a glance at the others and saw tears streaming down his mother’s face as she wiped her lovely cheeks on his dad’s handkerchief. His dad was beaming and rubbing his mom’s back. And Chuck…
Chuck was laughing, looking happier than Darren had ever seen him.
And he felt like, although this wasn’t the end, this was far from over, that it was a happy one. Maybe a happy beginning…? He wasn’t sure.
Either way, Chris was beaming at him and Darren blew him a kiss as they faded from view. When he finally brought himself to slump back down in his seat, an old lady from across the aisle, the same lady in fact (Darren had an uncanny visual memory) he had given his seat to nearly a year ago, looked up and rolled her glassy grey eyes.
“Some people never change,” she grumbled. Darren fought back a laugh.
If only she knew what he knew.
The world was a spinning concept, seconds passing into minutes into hours into days and breaths into beats and melodies and we’re still breathing, on a constant repeat.
Change is one thing we can always be assured of.
But this, Darren thought earnestly, clutching the photo right up against his heart as his loved ones faded from view.
This would always be.
--
fin.
pairing: crisscolfer
rating: nc-17
word count: 3000+ (this part)
summary: Chuck has a new best friend and Darren finds himself falling head over heels for something more curious and lovely than he thought could be real.
a/n: okay wow this is the very end and i am insanely upset. i'm sorry it took so long to get out, i have attachment issues and wanted the ending to perfect. i DID have to re-write a bit of this, due to a greeat error of mine, but here we are. endless thanks to Vic for fixing all my crap and being just so sweet and helpful to me for so long. and thanks to everyone who read this story, especially those who reviewed and made me feel like there were actually people reading when for the longest time i never thought there would be. thank you.
i'm making a little playlist to add to the masterpost which i will put up later today, but this is pretty much it, guys. here we go...
prologue ll chapter 1 ll chapter 2 ll chapter 3 ll chapter 4 ll chapter 5 ll chapter 6 ll chapter 7 ll chapter 8 ll chapter 9 ll chapter 10 ll chapter 11 ll chapter 12 ll chapter 13 ll chapter 13 ll chapter 14 ll chapter 15
--
As much as Chris would have liked to keep him wrapped in the warm, safe folds of his sheets for the rest of eternity, he had to let him go for a little bit. That first night they spent together may only be the opening sequence on the saga of the rest of their lives together, but it was exciting and thrilling and god, Chris couldn’t wait to see the rest of it play out.
Darren left so reluctantly, it hurt Chris a little to see him slip out that door, his lips kissed bruised, his eyes glassy, the breath knocked out of him as he craned his neck to peek once last glance over his shoulder.
The silence that followed the closing of the door had never been more deafening.
--
Darren felt like he was in a trance the entire way home. He felt light and airy, like the weight of the world was suddenly lifted and he was floating, flying away.
He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he trusted Chris to guide him on the right path.
Once he was home there was talking and shrieking (that his father would later deny) and so much laughter and tears that Darren felt he’d lived a lifetime in just 48 hours.
They were certainly the most memorable he’d lived thus far.
He was surprisingly sleepy for someone who had spent almost all day in bed, but as he fell into his own and stared blankly around the darkness, something seemed wrong.
And then he realised.
This wasn’t his home anymore.
His home was Chris - wherever he was, he was whole.
God, Chris was his whole now.
He was torn between the urge to roll onto his stomach and squeal into his pillow or run away and cry.
He was terrified.
His life was changing so quickly. He had two weeks left of school and then he was leaving England.
Leaving Chris, his whole.
He refused to let the tears that threatened slip past his lids as he shut them, rolling over and grabbing his spare pillow, tugging it to his chest, wishing now, more than ever, that he could go home.
--
The next morning was Monday and he spent the hours humming Mamas and the Papas under his breath.
He managed to make it through the day without throwing up once, but only just.
The graduation talk was nauseating.
Monday Monday… so good to me… Monday morning… it was all I hoped it would be…
He was still humming as he stepped into the house, toeing his shoes off at the door. He hung up his coat, smiling as the smell of his mother’s cooking drifted down the hall, the usual clutter of pots and pans as always, comforting.
He was about halfway down the hall, heading to help her out, when another body sprung out of the doorway and pinned him against the wall. He gasped as Chris pressed up against him, kissing him deep and warm. Darren’s toes curled under his damp socks and he reached up instinctively to thread his fingers through Chris’s hair and tug, smirking as Chris moaned into his mouth.
“How long till dinner?” Chris breathed, smattering kisses across his jaw, bursts of pleasure sparking like little pins under Darren’s skin.
“Long enough,” Darren insisted, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the stairs.
(He was wrong: it would never be long enough).
--
For the next two weeks passed much in the same fashion. Darren would struggle through school, his nerves building in tangled chords that lined his stomach for days, and Chris saving him in the summer nights, soothing him with kisses and whispers and I love you’s. They stole all the hours they could until graduation and then it all boiled over.
It was Chris, all Chris, always Chris. It was Chris’s proud smile he spotted amongst the sea of assembled family and friends at his graduation ceremony. It was Chris who held his hand and kept him sane all through dinner that night.
It was Chris who pressed his back into the sheets and loved him until he couldn’t see straight.
It was Chris who rubbed his back as he threw up his insides into the toilet bowl, and held him tight as he fell apart.
God, he was so fucking scared.
“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s all going to be okay.”
--
Their summer was sacred.
Stolen kisses when his parents weren’t looking; long languid days rolled together with warmth and endless embraces; talking all night until their throats were raw and they physically couldn’t go on.
It was all Darren had ever dreamed of.
He still saw his friends and god; he was going to miss them so much, Aubrey especially. But she was busy with preparation for Yale and her family so he didn’t see as much of her as he would have liked.
Even though Chris’s place was his favourite, they both thought it was best to spend as much time at Darren’s as possible.
“I get you forever,” Chris had put it, kissing his nose lightly. “What’s four years?”
But this was the last summer he’d ever spend calling his house home.
(Even if it wasn’t really. Not since Chris).
They still had their family dinners, and he still played with Chuck and helped his mom cook.
But the clock ticking over their heads was deafening.
--
Until it stopped.
The night before he left for Michigan, he was already packed, organised and ready. Or rather, as ready as he physically could be.
Emotionally?
Not so much.
His parents invited all their close family and friends over for an adorable little family dinner that made his heart clench and tears claw up his throat until he couldn’t hold them back anymore and he sobbed right into Chuck’s shoulder.
He wasn’t going to see most of these people for such a long time and it hurt.
It hurt so much.
After dinner, which lasted well into the night, his parents let him go home with Chris. They hugged him tightly, even if it wasn’t goodbye and his heart tugged at the way Darren’s mom crushed Chris to her chest, kissing his hair as if he was her own son.
Which, in her eyes, he probably already was.
--
They barely made it inside before Chris had Darren pressed against the hard wood of the door, each tugging frantically at the other’s clothes, Darren’s hands tight in Chris’s hair as he fell to his knees, his large baby doll eyes stabbing shots at his chest as he took Darren in his mouth, sucking him until he couldn’t breathe and their surroundings were reduced to a dizzy world of beautiful, consuming him.
It was frantic and desperate; the way Chris tugged him to bed, loving him rough, like they never had before. And Darren needed love - he needed months of Chris’s love, the love he’d be missing.
“Not forever.” Chris marked the words into his skin. “You’re going to come home to me.”
“I’ll never leave you,” Darren gasped, his insides wound tight, like the clock that threatened the end of their time. “Never. I-I love-”
Chris kissed the words right off his lips, fucking into him with hard snaps of his perfect but bruised hip bones until Darren came hard between them.
--
They didn’t sleep that night.
“Promise me,” Darren said, his gaze flickering over the rim of Chris’s favourite chipped mug, between the distant night out the window and the presence of the beautiful boy beside him, “that you will spend as much time as you can there… I don’t like the idea of you here… alone…”
“But I can see the stars from here,” Chris teased, nudging his shoulder playfully.
“And maybe I’ll be able to see them from my dorm?” Darren said wistfully. Chris laughed, ringing and loud, that stunning unreserved sound that Darren had come to adore and treasure with his entire soul.
“No…” Chris said, licking a drop of coffee from where it had dropped under his lip, “maybe I’ll be able to see you out there. Shining bright… like you were born to do.”
“Christopher Colfer!” Darren exclaimed, mouth dropping in mock horror - it was all he could do with the breath knocked out of him. “I’ve turned you into a sap!”
“I promise you when you’re gone I’ll rediscover the cynic in me,” Chris quipped dryly. “I wouldn’t want to make you feel guilty for ruining me.”
“Oh I plan to ruin you,” Darren huskily, rather enjoying the unmistakeable hitch in Chris’s breath, “but not your sappiness… I think you’re quite lovely as you are.”
“Darren Criss,” Chris teased, “you already have ruined me.”
Darren lifted an eyebrow.
“You’ve turned my entire world upside down.”
--
They had just enough coffee to keep their eyes from drooping closed. Darren didn’t want to miss a second of this - a second of him. He traced the lines of Chris’s jaw with heavy fingers and told him to talk. To tell him anything.
Tell him everything.
They sat by the window and watched as the sun rose, peeking it’s little face out from behind the shadow of the clouds that guarded the morning sky, the small traffic below dulled under the animated constant of Chris’s voice, weaving through enough stories to make Darren fall in love with him all over again.
“I think you’re the greatest writer who ever lived, Chris,” Darren said softly, tilting his head up to look at him fondly. Chris shot him a questionable look and Darren only grinned.
“You’re writing our story, aren’t you?”
Chris stilled for a moment, his face melting under one of love and incredulity.
“No,” he said earnestly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “We are. Together.”
--
They showered together and, after Darren dressed, Chris handed him one of his own hoodies, helping him put it on.
“Take me with you,” he said softly. Darren smiled.
“I am,” he returned, patting his heart. Chris kissed the back of his knuckles, squeezing his hand.
“I think you’re ready.”
(Darren wasn’t so sure)
When they arrived back at Darren’s house they were already ready for him, bags packed just outside the front door, his parents and Chuck and Aubrey all gathered in the living room. Darren’s heart caught at the sight of them and his throat felt thick.
“I’ll… I’ll be back in a moment,” he stuttered, racing up the stairs without another word.
Time to say goodbye.
And so he did. He traced the familiar walls, the familiar cream and bluebell patterns almost crowding him in. His room was cleaner than it had ever been, the usually dim light brighter with the absence of the book and sheet music towers stacked by the window. They’d managed to fix his light over the break, and the whole room was now cast in summer .
It was so strange.
It was strange that under the mess, in the broad daylight, stripped bare of all the things that had made it so sacred to him - his music, his books, his writings, his memories - it was just a room. An ordinary room.
It wasn’t his room anymore.
His heart lifted slightly.
Suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to say goodbye.
--
They carried his things to the bus stop together, Chris knocking shoulders with him every other beat, smiling softly as he did so.
It was sort of funny, he thought, as they placed his things down and sat down together, waiting, that this was where it all began, and where it was all ending, too.
But it wasn’t really ending at all, he realised, Chris’s hand squeezing his too tightly as the familiar clutter of the bus speeding down the street sounded and they were all getting to their feet.
Because nothing, he decided, trying not to cry as his mom cradled his head to her chest, kissing his hair in messy smatters, sobs vibrating under her touch; nothing really ends.
His father took him from his mother’s arms next, hugging him close and murmuring his trademark, “Go get ‘em,” in his ears, making Darren grin.
Aubrey was next, her soft touch warmer than usual. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for being the only one…” she shook her head then, pulling back with a watery smile, “you’ll be amazing.”
“You’ll be extraordinary,” Chris corrected, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he held his arms out to him. Darren fell against him, clinging tight to his back and bones, breathing him in deep. He would need this moment forever.
“I love you so much,” Darren murmured, as Chris cradled his jaw, touching their foreheads just lightly before kissing his lips lush and deep, sending warmth through his entirety, his whole body lighting up with the touch.
“I love you,” Chris intoned, pulling back gently, taking Darren’s hand in his and slipping a small envelope into it. “For the bus… and forever.”
Darren nodded - he understood.
God, it was so hard to turn away from him, but there was Chuck, pulling him in for one last hug, messing up his hair with calloused hands.
“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” he said loudly before ducking down and speaking quietly against his ear.
“I’ll take care of him. I promise.”
Nodding gratefully, Darren finally pried his fingers from where they’d dug into the fabrics of his shirt. He swallowed the thick lump in his chest, quickly hugging them all once more before the bus driver bellowed for all the passengers to fucking board already.
Lovely city, London was.
(He would miss it dearly).
Sniffing as final tears wet his lashes, he waved frantically as he boarded, his eyes lingering on the boy he loved.
God, he was going to miss him.
He would miss everything.
He finally stepped onto the bus and handed the grumbling driver his ticket. He found a seat in the back, before the shutter of the doors crackled shut.
Unable to help himself, he quickly dug the envelope out of his pocket, tearing into it, his heart beating fast as he took out the Polaroid tucked inside.
It was him, taken a long time ago, a day he still remembered.
They’d just been sitting there, watching the boys rehearse and Chris had been taking photos for his latest assignment. Darren had been working on an essay half-heartedly beside him on the couch, too distracted by the warm press of Chris’s thigh against his to concentrate too hard.
The band didn’t help, either.
He had been scratching out a weak sentence when the tell-tale click had sounded too loud beside him and he looked up startled as Chris lowered his camera, smiling sheepishly.
“What’s the assignment again?” Darren had asked shyly, trying to fight the blush that had burned under his skin. Chris bit his lip, turning away.
“What assignment?” he had said softly.
And he had turned it over in his mind all night before he had been distracted by the news of the tour, but it was now that it all came flooding back to him.
Write about something that inspires you.
He examined the photo carefully, struggling to find anything inspiring in the sight of himself, huddled in a thick jumper and tattered jeans, his brightly socked feet tucked over him, glasses slipping down his nose, hiding the confusion in his eyes. His hair was a mess, hidden under the purple of his cotton beanie.
God, what did Chris ever see in him?
A sudden thought struck him and he hastily flipped the photograph over, his heart stuttering as he caught the smatter of words embedded in familiar black ink.
And his sneakers scuffed across the pavement, tracking lines across his heart, the marks of his presence, the places he’d been, the places he still had to go. He was a traveller, always restless, unable to still himself. And he had gotten inside me, never still but just tangibly present; gnawing, itching, tickling at my chest, like an incessant cough and I couldn’t get him out. It was too small, on the tip of my tongue, but always there, hardly perceptive, yet tangible, in a whistle, in a whisper;
‘I love you’.
As the bus lurched into drive, shocking him out of his stunned stillness, he half leapt out of his seat, hurling open the jarred windows and leant out into the open air.
He spotted his family where he’d left them, all craning their necks to watch as the bus began to move. Chuck had his arm around Chris and Darren’s mom was pressed tightly into his dad’s side. Aubrey stood with them, demure as ever with her hands tucked into her sweater pockets. They were all smiling widely but Darren had eyes for only one of them.
“Chris!” he yelled, watching with delight as Chris’s startled eyes widened. “I hope you got an A!”
Shock flickered in his eyes for a moment, then slowly faded to recognition and he blushed a little but smiled widely, his teeth poking out in the crinkly eyed, scrunchy smile Darren loved so much.
God, he was still the most beautiful thing.
And he always would be.
Always.
He chanced a glance at the others and saw tears streaming down his mother’s face as she wiped her lovely cheeks on his dad’s handkerchief. His dad was beaming and rubbing his mom’s back. And Chuck…
Chuck was laughing, looking happier than Darren had ever seen him.
And he felt like, although this wasn’t the end, this was far from over, that it was a happy one. Maybe a happy beginning…? He wasn’t sure.
Either way, Chris was beaming at him and Darren blew him a kiss as they faded from view. When he finally brought himself to slump back down in his seat, an old lady from across the aisle, the same lady in fact (Darren had an uncanny visual memory) he had given his seat to nearly a year ago, looked up and rolled her glassy grey eyes.
“Some people never change,” she grumbled. Darren fought back a laugh.
If only she knew what he knew.
The world was a spinning concept, seconds passing into minutes into hours into days and breaths into beats and melodies and we’re still breathing, on a constant repeat.
Change is one thing we can always be assured of.
But this, Darren thought earnestly, clutching the photo right up against his heart as his loved ones faded from view.
This would always be.
--
fin.