RPS Fic: First, Second and Third.
Title: First, Second and Third
Author: emo_chick_87
Pairing,Character(s): Mark/Chris
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1595 words
Spoilers: Up to Episode 2x03
Genre: Angst/Fluff
Warnings: This is RPS/RPF.
Disclaimer: This is ENTIRELY FICTION. Bro, as much as I wish, this NEVER happened.
Summary: Chris thinks about all the times he'd been kissed.
AN: This is my first RPF/RPS fic. Nervous doesn't really cover it. Inspired by the video of Chris and Kathy Griffin.
By the time it happens for real, Chris has already been kissed by three different people. Every single time it was in public and his neck burned with the feeling of people's eyes on his skin.
The first time it happened is when he was fifteen. It was after one of the many cast parties that always happened after one of their many stage productions. Jenny's house is the only place parties like this can happen. Her parents jet off to the London or Paris for business. He spends most of the party wandering the house. Cataloging pictures of all the place they've been that he wishes he could see for himself. He's looking at a breathtaking view of Prague when it happens.
The scuffle behind him barely draws his attention but his jaw tenses in anticipation. It wouldn't be the first time a thick elbow would connect with his shoulder blades and send him flying into a wall. Instead he feels Emily's hands on his back. They're grasping frantically at the soft cotton. He turns around and gasps as her lips crash onto his.
She tastes like Dr Pepper and brandy. Her lips are slick with gloss and the force pushes his head against the drywall. Her sweaty hands cradle his face and they make him self-conscious about his rounded cheeks. Her head sways slightly and her forehead connects hard against his clavicle. Her snores are muffled by his neck and he isn't strong enough to hold her up. She crumples at his feet and the usually friendly eyes glaring make him run.
The pavement is loud as his feet slap wildly against it. He's halfway home before his lungs refuse to work anymore. He thinks about it the entire rest of walk
Sitting on his bed he tries to get all of the lip gloss off his neck and he cries himself to sleep.
Everything anybody ever said was true. He really didn't want girls like that. He didn't really want girls at all.
**
The second time it happens is during the filming of the back 9. Ryan had been threatening a Kurt tries to be straight episode since the beginning of the series. It sucks when he first read the script. He loves Heather but the thought of kissing her makes him sick. They really have become a family and besides some fever dreams Chris had been able to keep his crushing on straight boys to a minimum. Sure he had spent a little bit too much time at craft services during the Puck/Matt/April scene but that was because he'd skipped breakfast. It definitely wasn't because he wanted to steal sideways glances at Mark as he emerged from the steamy shower.
It doesn't help that Heather starts bragging that she's the one that get to kiss him. It makes him nervous that so many of the girls are jealous of her. Amber is the only one that helps him through it. Ryan is nice enough to keep the set as clear as he can. Only the principles are in the room but that's still too many for his taste.
Heather tastes like orange tic-tacs. She gentle and she knows how nervous he is. When it's over they watch the playback. He can easily tell that he wasn't acting in that scene. He really was the little gay boy trying to convince himself that he wanted to kiss that girl. Ryan jokes about him getting an Emmy for it. If that does happen he'll feel like a fraud.
The rest of the filming day Chris stays locked in his trailer. He's trying to prepare for Pink Houses. Walking outside in flannel embarrasses him in a way he hasn't felt since he was fifteen and choking on the taste of lip gloss.
In the choir room, Mark is drinking a Dr Pepper and laughing beside Amber. Chis slides up next to him.
“Carduelis tristis.”
“What?”
“Carduelis tristis.”
“Oh, um, American Goldfinch.”
Then he just turns away. It's something that shakes Chris to his core. Mark has never been cold. He's never felt the harsh crush of Mark ignoring him before. This was their thing. Chris would throw out a bird species and Mark would tell him the common name. He would usually know some adorable little fact about them too. It was one of the only times Mark's face would light up and sometimes he would actually giggle. Chris would spend hours online looking for different birds. Always trying to stump the great bird expert and never succeeding.
It isn't really until the next day that Chris sees the ice start to melt. He's ready to try the bird game again when he overhears Heather talking about how good of a kisser he is. Chris feels his face flush and the ice harden hard around Mark again.
Mark doesn't talk to him outside of work anymore and Chris never stops looking up birds. Keeping their names in his back pocket. Ready for the moment when Mark comes back.
When they come back for season two, Chris pretends. He lets them all think that he loved his little UK adventure. That he didn't spend the entire time constantly staring at Mark's twitter page and wishing that the light fog of London was replaced by the thick heat of Texas.
Mark is really flirting with the new guy. Chris pretends again. Pretends that it doesn't hurt to be left out of the wii sports tournaments or the sushi excursions. Pretends that there isn't an entire folder on his laptop dedicated to different birds. He also pretends that he hasn't read the stories online about the two of them getting together. That he's never seen the icon that has sai swords crossing over a corvid.
He's lost in love with a straight boy. But all that fades away when the suicides start. His agent tells him not to say anything. Tells him that being out is enough. The kid from Clovis agrees with him for a moment. Being out was a revolutionary act for him. But then he thinks about that kid. The one that stayed locked in the closet but got called a fag anyways. The one that stood the beatings and the bullying and the teachers turning a blind eye. He thinks about that kid and knows silence isn't what's needed now. Now he gets to be the one that gives that kid a message about how much better it gets.
After his video goes out, Mark knocks on his trailer door and invites him to play video games with the other guys. He knows this a peace offering and he gladly takes it. He owns them all when they break out Grand Theft Auto. Mark's shoulder brushes his when he leans back. For now, the fact that Mark doesn't move his arm away is enough.
**
The third time he's in front of thousands of people. He's making jokes about hiring a pool boy and flashes to the image of Mark with lemonade in his hand. He thinks she's only going in for a quick peck on the side of his mouth. She leans hard into him and his eyes shoot open. Everyone else thinks it's hilarious. He just feels like he's fifteen again.
He's not really supposed to be on the lot that day. He'd just finished his most recent wardrobe fittings and was hiding in his trailer. The sunlight bounces off the disco ball and shines brightly on his collage of photos.
His eyes fixate on the one of Mark. The thick framed glasses and his owl shirt match the silly grin on his face. Naya had just told a joke when Amber had snapped it. He was leaning forward and pressing his entire right side into Chris. He could feel the laughter against his ribs and at that moment they were both open. Both present in the same moment. It was still one of his favorite pictures.
Mark doesn't knock. He barges in and presses Chris into the wall. The thumbtacs hit his spine and he almost misses the soft brush of lips on his. But he's sure that it happened. Because Mark's face is open and scared. Vulnerable in a way Chis has never seen before. He just smiles.
“Trogon elegans.”
Mark quirks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. Before softly shaking his head.
“Nope. You finally got me. No idea.”
“Elegant Trogon. It has an upright posture and the tail is long and square-cut at the tip. The male is beautiful and has a lovely dark, glossy, emerald green upper body. It's restricted to the southeastern part of Arizona in the United States to northwestern Costa Rica, and at times in the southeastern and western part of Texas.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I did my research.”
“When did you find it?”
“Four months ago. You were gone.”
Mark hangs his head slightly and Chris slides his hand along his cheek, to tilt his head back slightly. It's the first time Chris has ever initiated a kiss with someone. Mark presses small kisses to his closed lips and coaxes for more.
Mark tastes like promises and possibility. Chris tastes like peppermint tea and innocence.
They kiss until Chris can't remember the others that came before. Mark erases everything and all of a sudden he's the only one that has ever know Chris this way.
Later they'll walk across the lot hand in hand. But for now, they kiss in private.
Author: emo_chick_87
Pairing,Character(s): Mark/Chris
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1595 words
Spoilers: Up to Episode 2x03
Genre: Angst/Fluff
Warnings: This is RPS/RPF.
Disclaimer: This is ENTIRELY FICTION. Bro, as much as I wish, this NEVER happened.
Summary: Chris thinks about all the times he'd been kissed.
AN: This is my first RPF/RPS fic. Nervous doesn't really cover it. Inspired by the video of Chris and Kathy Griffin.
By the time it happens for real, Chris has already been kissed by three different people. Every single time it was in public and his neck burned with the feeling of people's eyes on his skin.
The first time it happened is when he was fifteen. It was after one of the many cast parties that always happened after one of their many stage productions. Jenny's house is the only place parties like this can happen. Her parents jet off to the London or Paris for business. He spends most of the party wandering the house. Cataloging pictures of all the place they've been that he wishes he could see for himself. He's looking at a breathtaking view of Prague when it happens.
The scuffle behind him barely draws his attention but his jaw tenses in anticipation. It wouldn't be the first time a thick elbow would connect with his shoulder blades and send him flying into a wall. Instead he feels Emily's hands on his back. They're grasping frantically at the soft cotton. He turns around and gasps as her lips crash onto his.
She tastes like Dr Pepper and brandy. Her lips are slick with gloss and the force pushes his head against the drywall. Her sweaty hands cradle his face and they make him self-conscious about his rounded cheeks. Her head sways slightly and her forehead connects hard against his clavicle. Her snores are muffled by his neck and he isn't strong enough to hold her up. She crumples at his feet and the usually friendly eyes glaring make him run.
The pavement is loud as his feet slap wildly against it. He's halfway home before his lungs refuse to work anymore. He thinks about it the entire rest of walk
Sitting on his bed he tries to get all of the lip gloss off his neck and he cries himself to sleep.
Everything anybody ever said was true. He really didn't want girls like that. He didn't really want girls at all.
**
The second time it happens is during the filming of the back 9. Ryan had been threatening a Kurt tries to be straight episode since the beginning of the series. It sucks when he first read the script. He loves Heather but the thought of kissing her makes him sick. They really have become a family and besides some fever dreams Chris had been able to keep his crushing on straight boys to a minimum. Sure he had spent a little bit too much time at craft services during the Puck/Matt/April scene but that was because he'd skipped breakfast. It definitely wasn't because he wanted to steal sideways glances at Mark as he emerged from the steamy shower.
It doesn't help that Heather starts bragging that she's the one that get to kiss him. It makes him nervous that so many of the girls are jealous of her. Amber is the only one that helps him through it. Ryan is nice enough to keep the set as clear as he can. Only the principles are in the room but that's still too many for his taste.
Heather tastes like orange tic-tacs. She gentle and she knows how nervous he is. When it's over they watch the playback. He can easily tell that he wasn't acting in that scene. He really was the little gay boy trying to convince himself that he wanted to kiss that girl. Ryan jokes about him getting an Emmy for it. If that does happen he'll feel like a fraud.
The rest of the filming day Chris stays locked in his trailer. He's trying to prepare for Pink Houses. Walking outside in flannel embarrasses him in a way he hasn't felt since he was fifteen and choking on the taste of lip gloss.
In the choir room, Mark is drinking a Dr Pepper and laughing beside Amber. Chis slides up next to him.
“Carduelis tristis.”
“What?”
“Carduelis tristis.”
“Oh, um, American Goldfinch.”
Then he just turns away. It's something that shakes Chris to his core. Mark has never been cold. He's never felt the harsh crush of Mark ignoring him before. This was their thing. Chris would throw out a bird species and Mark would tell him the common name. He would usually know some adorable little fact about them too. It was one of the only times Mark's face would light up and sometimes he would actually giggle. Chris would spend hours online looking for different birds. Always trying to stump the great bird expert and never succeeding.
It isn't really until the next day that Chris sees the ice start to melt. He's ready to try the bird game again when he overhears Heather talking about how good of a kisser he is. Chris feels his face flush and the ice harden hard around Mark again.
Mark doesn't talk to him outside of work anymore and Chris never stops looking up birds. Keeping their names in his back pocket. Ready for the moment when Mark comes back.
When they come back for season two, Chris pretends. He lets them all think that he loved his little UK adventure. That he didn't spend the entire time constantly staring at Mark's twitter page and wishing that the light fog of London was replaced by the thick heat of Texas.
Mark is really flirting with the new guy. Chris pretends again. Pretends that it doesn't hurt to be left out of the wii sports tournaments or the sushi excursions. Pretends that there isn't an entire folder on his laptop dedicated to different birds. He also pretends that he hasn't read the stories online about the two of them getting together. That he's never seen the icon that has sai swords crossing over a corvid.
He's lost in love with a straight boy. But all that fades away when the suicides start. His agent tells him not to say anything. Tells him that being out is enough. The kid from Clovis agrees with him for a moment. Being out was a revolutionary act for him. But then he thinks about that kid. The one that stayed locked in the closet but got called a fag anyways. The one that stood the beatings and the bullying and the teachers turning a blind eye. He thinks about that kid and knows silence isn't what's needed now. Now he gets to be the one that gives that kid a message about how much better it gets.
After his video goes out, Mark knocks on his trailer door and invites him to play video games with the other guys. He knows this a peace offering and he gladly takes it. He owns them all when they break out Grand Theft Auto. Mark's shoulder brushes his when he leans back. For now, the fact that Mark doesn't move his arm away is enough.
**
The third time he's in front of thousands of people. He's making jokes about hiring a pool boy and flashes to the image of Mark with lemonade in his hand. He thinks she's only going in for a quick peck on the side of his mouth. She leans hard into him and his eyes shoot open. Everyone else thinks it's hilarious. He just feels like he's fifteen again.
He's not really supposed to be on the lot that day. He'd just finished his most recent wardrobe fittings and was hiding in his trailer. The sunlight bounces off the disco ball and shines brightly on his collage of photos.
His eyes fixate on the one of Mark. The thick framed glasses and his owl shirt match the silly grin on his face. Naya had just told a joke when Amber had snapped it. He was leaning forward and pressing his entire right side into Chris. He could feel the laughter against his ribs and at that moment they were both open. Both present in the same moment. It was still one of his favorite pictures.
Mark doesn't knock. He barges in and presses Chris into the wall. The thumbtacs hit his spine and he almost misses the soft brush of lips on his. But he's sure that it happened. Because Mark's face is open and scared. Vulnerable in a way Chis has never seen before. He just smiles.
“Trogon elegans.”
Mark quirks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. Before softly shaking his head.
“Nope. You finally got me. No idea.”
“Elegant Trogon. It has an upright posture and the tail is long and square-cut at the tip. The male is beautiful and has a lovely dark, glossy, emerald green upper body. It's restricted to the southeastern part of Arizona in the United States to northwestern Costa Rica, and at times in the southeastern and western part of Texas.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I did my research.”
“When did you find it?”
“Four months ago. You were gone.”
Mark hangs his head slightly and Chris slides his hand along his cheek, to tilt his head back slightly. It's the first time Chris has ever initiated a kiss with someone. Mark presses small kisses to his closed lips and coaxes for more.
Mark tastes like promises and possibility. Chris tastes like peppermint tea and innocence.
They kiss until Chris can't remember the others that came before. Mark erases everything and all of a sudden he's the only one that has ever know Chris this way.
Later they'll walk across the lot hand in hand. But for now, they kiss in private.