Drugs In All the Wrong Places; RPF
Title: Looking for Drugs In All the Wrong Places
Pairing: Darren Criss/Chris Colfer
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6300+
Summary: Darren Criss scares the shit out of Chris Colfer.
Notes: Unbeta’ed. Title from "Songs for Teenagers" by Fake Problems. This is my Sistine Chapel of fanfiction. I spent way too much time on this. After being so immersed in all things Social Network recently, it just narrowly missed turning into an angst fest. But above all I’m a sucker for happy endings and porn. Hopefully I found something worthwhile between all the cliches. Also, I imagined Bon Iver as the soundtrack for Darren's apartment scene (cause really, do hipsters listen to anything else?).
Please comment and enjoy!
Darren Criss scared the shit out of Chris Colfer.
When Chris first caught wind of Kurt potentially finding a boyfriend this season, he had pictured himself sharing scenes with some generically attractive, young, up-start actor who was willing to play gay for a chance at Glee. He had been sure the guy would be friendly enough. They’d exchange pleasantries when they saw each other on set, he’d reassure Chris that he was so definitely ok with the whole gay thing. Hey, he even knew a couple gay guys, because, well….he worked at Starbucks for a couple of months and that Michael kid who worked night shifts totally dated dudes! He also watched Will & Grace with his aunt sometimes. So yea, everything would be fine and dandy and workplace professionalism would be a breeze. Chris could handle that. The last thing he expected was short, dorky and ungodly amounts of charming.
They told him who exactly would be playing this potential love interest, a curly headed theater-kid named Darren Criss. That night he went home and desperately tried to find that dusty bottle of wine in the back of his cabinet.
Of all the actors in this town. Some harmless fun with friends would come back to bite him in the ass. Yes, he was a Very Potter Musical (and Sequel) fanboy. He also may have joked about how adorable Harry was, but so had everyone else. It was all in good fun. But then Chris found himself alone and unable to resist poking around this guy’s youtube channel. Besides being quirky and talented, Darren Criss was fairly easy on the eyes. So maybe he had developed a tiny, harmless crush. It’s not like he’d ever have to worry about getting all star struck, middle-school-girl in front of Darren in real life.
Apparently some higher power had other plans. And that higher power went by the name of Ryan Murphy.
He called the next day to let Chris know that he and Darren would be meeting up for lunch later in the week to discuss the role before shooting. He gave a time and location without asking if he was available. Apparently everyone was aware of his famed non-existent life outside of Glee. Chris tried to ignore the way his stomach dropped at the mere mention of Darren’s name.
Thursday found Chris driving cautiously through a sunny, unfamiliar L.A. neighborhood. His favorite pair of huge, amber sunglasses perched firmly on the bridge of his nose despite already heavily tinted windows. The cool safety of the SUV’S interior begged him stay put and avoid the inevitably awkward meeting altogether. He could tell Ryan he’d slept in maybe or taken a few too many wrong turns. Chris quickly snapped out of it and exited into the bright sunlight. The restaurant looked laidback enough, purposefully retro, mustard-colored tablecloths and mismatched seating littered the room. Once he stepped through those doors, his eyes immediately fell on Darren and his brain froze for one terrifying second. There he was in the flesh, looking devastatingly, effortlessly handsome in a solid blue tee shirt. He had this magnetic confidence about him. He realized, with devastation that videos hadn’t even begun to do Darren Criss justice. Smiling good-naturedly, the other boy got up from his seat to shake Chris’ hand and introduce himself. It took nearly all of Chris’ mental discipline to not to respond with “I know”. Instead he waited politely until the conversation veered into Darren’s past work experience.
“I’m, uh, I’m actually a pretty big fan of the musical, if we’re being honest,” Chris confessed.
Darren couldn’t seem to process the compliment, insisting, “That’s seriously sweet of you, but I swear I won’t be offended if you’ve never even heard of my dinky little musical until like, yesterday. We really just did it for ourselves and a few of our friends, ya know?”
“No, really!” Chris protested and gestured towards himself, giving Darren a look of disbelief, “Are you telling me that -all- this is no indication of the fact that I’d literally be drooling over the fusing of Harry Potter with a musical?”
“Alright,” Darren laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender, “if you say so! But I wouldn’t fault you for it if you were just pumping the new guy’s ego.” He smiled and waggled a couple bushy eyebrows in what Chris guessed was an attempt at suggestive. The ridiculousness of it all hit him in a burst of giggles. In the aftermath of their introduction, the rest of the lunch went surprisingly well. Chris managed to hold his own, meeting Darren’s remarks with witty retorts left and right. Ten minutes of playful banter about the questionable decor (without Ryan getting a word in), three Harry potter jokes, and one fit of snort-filled laughter so geekily adorable it should be illegal later, Chris realized just how difficult this was going to be.
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It was really only a matter of time before Chris had his first inappropriate sex dream about Darren. They had been shooting for a couple weeks now, which meant that at this point, Darren Criss had become part of his daily life. Oh the sheer insanity of the reality he was living. Needless to say, Darren was on Chris’ mind, a lot, as in a very large majority of his waking hours. He tried to resist nursing the crush, he really did. But since he already fixated during the day, the invasion of his unconscious dreaming was only the next logical step.
It started out in a dark theater, a spotlight serving as the only source of illumination, fixed firmly on Chris. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his heart might beat right out of his chest, anxiety paralyzing him. Suddenly someone else appeared to his right. Chris recognized Elphaba immediately. They were on Broadway. Their duet began as Chris took his cues like he had been born for this. Lights waxed and waned and flickered as their voices intertwined. The crowd roared its approval.
Suddenly the stage vanished and he was in his old neighborhood back in Clovis. A small prickle of unease settled in his spine but was quickly extinguished. Chris walked around his school grounds, staring at the silhouette of so many years of his life against the evening sky. Dry, brown grass crunched under his dragging feet. He found a way into his former algebra classroom, somehow just as class was coming to an end. Odd time for class, Chris thought to himself. One student stayed behind. Except he didn’t recognize this one. This boy didn’t belong here. Blaine Anderson predatorily advanced, backing him up against the teacher’s desk. Chris felt all the blood leave his brain in one boiling rush. Blaine’s hands bracketed his face as they began to make-out in the empty linoleum tiled room. What Chris would give to switch lives with Kurt Hummel some days. Except Blaine wasn’t there anymore. Suddenly it was Darren kissing him. He whimpered against Darren’s lips and reached wrapped his arms around the other boy’s neck.
The scenery shifted to his childhood bedroom. Darren was giving him a blowjob and holy shit, if this wasn’t what heaven looked like. Eyes closed, concentrated solely on Chris, curly hair disheveled and jaw slightly strained. Then, just like that, Darren was fucking Chris into the mattress of the twin bed. He was wearing a McKinley High football jersey while Chris wore in a matching cheerleader uniform. Chris arched into him as their pace quickened. Darren made a sound that resembled his name. He came with a bright flash of pleasure.
Chris jolted upright in his bed, panting, straining his eyes against the blackness of his bedroom. He realized his sheets were sticky and an immediate wave of guilt fell over him. Never had he felt so, well, dirty. Burying his face in his pillow, Chris didn’t even bother to clean himself off. He merely lay there berating himself until the birds started to chirp and weak light began to filter through.
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Waiting between scenes could be a hassle. This is taken to a whole new level when your co-star insists upon simultaneously serenading you and making everything into a jingle as a means of passing the time. Chris Colfer was currently biting back a ridiculous grin. He pretended to ignore the other boy in favor of his iphone as one Darren Criss leaned in a fraction closer, strumming his guitar and humming a tune. There was even a slight jiggle of a dance added in.
“Darren!” Chris shouted, dramatically feigning annoyance, “I’m clearly in the middle of tweeting! So if you would kindly take your one man show else where-,”
“The thing is, you don’t mean that,” Darren grinned from ear to ear,- that stupid gorgeous shit eating grin.
“Darren, you wouldn’t believe all the fascinating thoughts Ashton Kutcher is having right now.” He offered, earning him a chuckle.
“Yea, but… can Ashton Kutcher do this,” Darren scrunched up his face in mock concentration as he proceeded to show off some “sweet licks” on the guitar. Once he started accompanying his playing with sound effects, Chris lost it completely.
“Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do without you over here in Dalton-land” Chris wheezed, feeling thoroughly giddy from head to toe. Darren smiled in return before the lighting guy, Larry, motioned him to get ready for shooting again.
“Oh damn that’s me! Time to go make a fool of myself. Hey, mind if I-?” he asked, already reaching for Chris’ water bottle and taking a swig form it before the younger boy could reply, “Thanks! See ya!”
Though seemingly insignificant, Chris was struck by how intimate the gesture had been. While he had become so much more comfortable around Darren, his feelings for him had not only failed to disappear, but had intensified ten fold. Now that Chris spent actual time with Darren, he got to see all of his kindness, his enthusiasm and his ridiculously noble allegiance to all things gay related. He sighed inwardly. One day at a time. Crushes come and go, especially ones on straight guys you work with. Yea those can move along right about now. Temporarily resigned to his fate, Chris placed his earbuds back in and resumed play of a certain acapella Katy Perry cover.
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On the all too rare occasion that the cast’s scheduling lined up, Naya planned a night out and everyone had been invited. They had agreed to meet at the nearest Mexican place for margaritas (or clandestine sips of them in Chris’ case). Standing in front of his mirror, the underaged man in question anxiously debated slicking his hair back or leaving it down for the thousandth time that evening. Once he committed to a gelling it back, Chris spent another ten minutes reassessing his choice in jeans. Did people wear jeans with holes in them anymore? Was that still cool? He briefly fell into another I-have-nothing-to-wear induced panic, because Chris’ idea of men’s chic was still restricted to whatever he last saw the mannequin in T.J. Maxx wearing. Plaid was a safe bet right? Everyone loved plaid.
He sat down in an exasperated heap surrounded by rejected articles of clothing. It wasn’t like Chris thought he he’d have an actual chance with Darren, he just wanted to look, well, good. They hadn’t hung out much outside of work where a whole team of people’s job consisted of making him, or Kurt rather, look presentable. Now he wanted nothing more than for Darren to notice him, really notice. Chris felt incredibly pathetic but couldn’t help checking his hair one last time before leaving his apartment.
General mayhem was already underway when he arrived. Chord had Harry in a headlock while Heather was loudly discussing the merits of Brazilian bikini waxing with Mark. Thankfully Ashley had saved a spot next to her in the booth. Chris stole a glance towards Darren, drink in hand, chuckling at something Diana or Heather just said. He tried to quell the instant feelings of jealousy.
“Chris, you made it!” Amber exclaimed.
“As if I’d miss margarita night!” Chris slid in between she and Lea, wrapping an arm around her.
“Chris! Let’s get you a little somethin’ to drink!” Harry crowed. He accepted then looked over in time to see Darren’s face light up.
“Dude! Mr. Golden Globes big shot too good to say hey to his little ol’ co-star already?” Darren teased, “Get over here and give me a proper hello!” Chris couldn’t hide his delight as he got up to amend the supposed offense. Darren pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, to which Chris reciprocated gladly, subtly savoring the contact. When he had to finally pull away, Darren chastised him for just now getting to the resaurant, to which Chris started to make up a half-assed excuse.
“Jeeze, they’re already acting like an old married couple,” Cory smirked into his glass. Chris’ cheeks flared up and Darren tried to waive it off, suddenly bashful. A handful started cooing and catcalling. The margaritas were definitely in full effect. Lea even started singing about Darren and Chris in a tree, love and marriage.
“Hey, hey, I’d only be so lucky!” Darren proclaimed, nudging the younger boy. Chris vowed then and there to ingest as much alcohol into his system as possible.
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Black out drunk in Chris Colfer’s book apparently translated to mildly tipsy, mostly due to the fact that he had Amber giving him a motherly slap on the wrist every time he tried to chug a glass or steal some of hers. Granted, he still had a fantastic time with everyone, trading complaints about rehearsals, discussing movies and that camping trip Cory wanted everyone to go on. Which morphed into a story about Heather having hiked the Appalachian Trail one summer. Darren continued to charm and befriend everyone else in the cast, slowly winning them over one by one. Chris couldn’t help feeling slightly possessive. Currently though everything simply felt warm around the edges.
Darren on the other hand had fully partaken in the festivities, so to speak. He wasn’t falling over but that smile only got wider and his eyes just a little bit glassier. Chris, Kevin, Jenna, and Darren were left, as the others had grabbed various cabs or designated drivers. Finally taking care of his check, Kevin started to shrug on his jacket as Jenna tried to stand with an awkward wiggle across the polyester cushion of the booth.
“Hey guys, I think we’re gonna head out, but dude, it was awesome hanging out with you again Chris. And Darren, totally glad I got the chance to finally talk to you,” Kevin shook the older boy’s hand enthusiastically.
“Yea, it was great talking to you Darren!” Jenna beamed, having successfully situated herself into a standing position. Ever since they had moved in together, she and Kevin seemed to work as a unit. A totally platonic unit, Chris reminded himself, but yea, it was a pretty great thing they had going.
“You’re good to drive, right Chris?” Kevin probed before he turned to leave.
“Oh yea, my tiny buzz started to wear off right around the time Harry started doing his Free Willy impression.” Kevin and Jenna chuckled, along with Darren.
“Alright, if you say so. Do you think you can get this guy back?” he motioned to Darren, “He’d probably be better off with somebody he knew than a cab.”
“Not a problem,” Chris assured them, ignoring the nervous tingle of a bad idea, “You guys go and have a lovely whatever is left of the evening,”
“Thanks Chris, see ya later!” Jenna blew him a kiss and waved affectionately. He watched the figures of his two friends retreating towards the door and immediately began mentally mapping out where he might hide his show tune cd’s in the car before Darren saw them.
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The car ride proved mostly uneventful. Chris did join Darren in brief, nostalgic sing-a-longs, which eventually dissolved into a Britney Spears medley. Warmth spread throughout Chris’ entire body, though this time it had nothing to do with margaritas.
“Seriously Darren, your ‘Hold It Against Me’ puts Brittney herself to shame,” Chris chuckled.
“What can I say, it speaks to me!” Darren glanced out the window, lights from the road skimming across his face, “Oh wait, you gotta take this turn up here. My place is on the left.” Chris pulled into the apartment complex lined with illuminated palm trees. He tried once again to stifle the strange feeling of anticipation, except just being near Darren always made him irrational.
Darren turned to him as he unbuckled his seatbelt, pausing, suddenly shy. “Hey, you wouldn’t wanna come up for a sec, would you?” he stared at Chris, a cross between hopeful and hesitant, an odd tension in his voice. “I mean, the place is a mess, basically everything is broken, but yea…It’d be cool if you could stay a minute and hung out,” Darren added in one breath, “I’ve got leftovers if you’re hungry?”
Chris froze, simply staring before he realized he hadn’t responded. “Um, no yea, yea that sounds good,” he stammered, cursing himself for being so awkward, because a cute (albeit heterosexual) boy had just asked him to come up to this apartment for Christ’s sake.
Darren lit up with another mega-watt smile, stating simply, “cool,” as he started to lead the way. Shakily, Chris turned off the ignition, following Darren. After numerous flights of stairs, they finally reached the door numbered thirty-eight A. Darren took a moment to fit the key in correctly before making sweeping gesture for Chris to enter the dark room. Something sticky on the floor made walking difficult and Chris could make out general disarray even in the dim evening lighting. “Sorry about the mess,” the other boy added bashfully. Darren seated him on the couch between piles of laundry (that machine was broken too apparently) and told Chris to sit tight while he got them something from the fridge. He returned with two beers and a white tupperwear container, pressing play on the stereo for an album Chris didn’t recognize. A delicate eyebrow was raised in the general direction of the drinks.
“What? Maybe you were thirsty!” Darren responded immediately, “Hey, if you don’t want yours I’ll totally take it off your hands. It’s been a long week dude.” Chris couldn’t even bring himself to feign disapproval, sighing into the cushions.
“Tell me about it.”
“Later,” Darren joked, groaning as he leaned back, closing his eyes. Chris tried to ignore how little space there was between them on the relatively small sofa and focus on the words coming out of Darren’s (perfectly shaped, god those lips) mouth. Wow, this was going well. “So tell me, what do you do when you’re not Glee-ing it up Chris Colfer?” he inquired good-naturedly.
Chris toyed with the bottle in his hands, willing himself to keep his composure. He chuckled, “Well, um… I’m really interested in writing- for movies and scripts and stuff. I just kind of hang out with Glee people. Lea and I go to plays sometimes. And uh, Amber, she and I just went to Disney Land. She also just taught me how to play Call of Duty.”
Darren let out a burst of laughter, “Wait, Amber and Call of Duty? Well that was unexpected,” he gave Chris another look as he took a swig from the brown bottle, “Guess there’s a reason they’ve got that saying about judging a book by its cover. So, not to pry or anything, but how're, you know, things on the relationship front going? Anyone special?”
Chris choked on his sip of beer, trying to cover it up as a cough. “Sorry, wrong pipe,” he lied, convinced NASA could see how red his face became. “Um, no. I mean, I’ve met a couple people, but it’s just kind of hard sometimes…finding normal guys who are interested in me for me,” He prayed Darren would drop the subject, not meeting his eyes. A hand on his knee started him.
“That’s bullshit,” Darren interjected, staring directly at him, “You’re totally one of the coolest, funniest guys I know. And that’s saying something, cause Joey and Lauren are freakin’ hilarious.”
Chris’s expression visibly softened, “You miss them don’t you?”
“So fucking much,” he confessed, looking as vulnerable as Chris had ever seen him, “I don’t regret being here at all though, I just wish I could clone myself ya know?” Chris nodded along, even though he certainly never thought about leaving L.A. for anyone back in Clovis. They sat in silence for a moment, music from the stereo gently filling the void. “I’ll go get us some more beer,” Darren finally announced. They continued to talk, weaving intermittently between serious and silly subjects. Chris couldn’t help taking note as the gap between them on the sofa continued to decrease.
Suddenly, Darren got up from his place and stood in front of him, hand outstretched. “Enough talk Colfer, it’s Friday night. Dance with me,” he insisted, “Come on, I love this song,” he grinned goofily.
Chris took his hand, mildly confused, but mostly intrigued. They rounded the coffee table and Chris allowed Darren to lead in some kind of hand jive type boogie. After a few more songs both boys were giggling uncontrollably, Chris doing his best impression of the chicken noodle soup dance while Darren tried to follow. At last they collapsed in a heap onto the nearest oversized chair, wheezing at their failed attempts.
Chris’ head was still spinning ever so slightly. He closed his eyes and leaned into Darren, feeling the last vibrations of laughter running through his chest. They stayed like this for a good couple minutes until Chris became aware of Darren’s potential discomfort, presumably stifled by Chris’ weight. He hadn’t been on the treadmill all week; there was no telling what damage he had done. Also, Darren was still incredibly cute and Chris was still incredibly gay. He sat up and made to remove himself from the other boy’s lap, though his balance seemed to escape him. “Whoa, just give me a sec to get up Dare, and I’ll stop squishin’ ya” Chris started to sloppily apologized before a pair of hands latched onto his hips, pulling him back down.
“Don’t go,” Darren murmured, “Want you to stay.”
Chris resumed his place on Darren’s lap, no longer resisting the fluttery sensation in his gut, he finally surrendered to the comfortably happy buzz. He shifted to make eye contact with Darren, who looked up at him with a lopsided smile. He ran a hand through Chris’ hair with more affection than the gesture should have ever possessed. Heady off the beer and Darren’s sheer proximity, Chris’ all at once felt so incredibly warm, and safe and loved. When he leaned down to place a kiss on the other boy’s lips, it felt like the most natural gesture in the world. At last Darren’s lips began to move in response and all at once they were kissing in a cramped armchair in the middle of Darren’s apartment.
Small sounds of contentment slipped out, as Chris leaned in further and tangled his hand possessively in Darren’s curls. Lips trailed greedily down the column of Chris’ throat. Strong hands found his waist.
“Fuck,” Chris breathed. The world had shrunk down to the Darren's body heat, the taste of his mouth, everything else felt distant and unreal. Almost of its own volition, Chris’ hand slid southwards down to eagerly rub Darren through his jeans, and oh god. Darren was hard. Fuck. All at once a shocking wave of lucidity struck him. Chris sat up and stared wide-eyed in horror. He had just crossed every boundary, broken every rule for himself that he had sworn he never would break.
Losing control like this terrified him. Darren Criss terrified him.
“I’m so sorry, what am I doing? What’s going on?” Chris started to babble, edging on hysteria. “I just- it just happened, I -I want you but I shouldn’t and you’ve been so good to me-“
“Chris,” his name echoed in an odd, strangled kind of way. The younger boy turned towards the sound. He was shocked to see the mixture of fear and longing in Darren. The next rough string of words sounded simultaneously like a plea and a command. “Chris, I - come here,”
Chris obeyed, transfixed as he closed the distance between them. Chris allowed his eyes to fall shut and lose himself. They continued from where they had left off, this time Darren guiding Chris’ hand back down to rediscover the affect Chris had on him. When Darren spoke again it was panted, damp against the shell of Chris’ ear, interlacing their fingers, “My room, please.”
Chris’ heart stopped momentarily. The sober part of his brain was screaming a million objections and concerns, but then Darren looked up at him through those lashes and suddenly all else became an entirely moot point.
They made it through the doorway with hands still entwined. The only light illuminating the room came from a streetlamp outside the window. Vague impressions of a bed, a nightstand, and a couple guitars lined the walls. Music from the den filtered in, all muffled vocals and lightly plucked melody. Darren backed Chris onto the bed, bending down to reclaim his lips. “Is this ok, Chris? Tell me this is ok. I don’t wanna try not to Chris,” Their mouths made obscene wet noises, moving with careless urgency. Chris nodded the affirmative repeatedly.
He reached to slowly undo the other boy’s jeans, slipping the button from its clasp with shaky fingers. Their eyes met briefly before he shimmied the denim off Darren’s hips and slid to his knees at the foot of the bed.
Both groaned simultaneously when Chris began to mouth Darren through his boxer briefs. The reality, the feel of his arousal intoxicated Chris to no end as he palmed his own hard-on. Darren’s eyes rolled in the back of his head, cursing. His erection strained against the tight cotton and a dot of pre-cum leaked through. “So fucking gorgeous, wanna taste you Dare,” Chris’ voice cracked with need and excruciating honesty. Darren summoned every inch of willpower he had to lower himself to Chris’ level and hush him with his tongue.
He backed the younger boy up onto the bed with feverish kisses. Darren unzipped Chris in an effort to dispose of his tight jeans as well, the gravity of the situation hovering just above them. The starchy fabric had only moved to encompass Chris’ thighs, as they pressed into one another, greedy for greater, more contact. Darren’s breath hitched in what felt like a shiver of hesitation. The moment quickly passed as they began to move. The feeling of Chris’ hard cock against Darren’s own was completely new and foreign, though evidently not unwelcome as he grinded against him eagerly, a long moan breaking from his throat. The pulse between his legs and the angles of Chris’ body blurred together to form an all-consuming haze. Frantic hands grasped at Darren’s back in an effort to pull him closer. Chest to chest, Chris’ shattered voice whined that he couldn’t last much longer. Darren could feel him falling apart. He desperately groaned all the things he wished Darren would do to him; all the things he wanted to do to Darren. This only spurred on Darren’s forceful thrusts. Seconds later he came hot, covering their stomachs, followed closely by the other boy. They curled helplessly into the sheets, broad hands stroking the hair from Chris’ sticky forehead.
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Somewhere outside a dog barked from across the street as an engine roared noisily past. Chris attempted to crack open his eyes against the patch of sunlight piercing through a broken blind. None of his surroundings looked familiar. He felt nauseating and disheveled and bewildered. The pilled sheets underneath his sweaty palms were all the wrong color. At last he ventured a glance at the other side of the mattress. There lay Darren Criss, stripped to nothing but briefs, unconsciously starfished with a pillow hugged to his chest. Chris’ heart stopped. His breathing became erratic. This was bad. This was a disaster on so many levels. He had to leave.
He quickly wrestled on his pair of cold, wrinkled jeans from the foot of the bed, before roughly tugging on his shirt. Discomfort populated his skin in goose bumps when he caught a trace of Darren’s cologne lingering on the fabric. Even as he scurried from the scene, Chris couldn’t fully escape the memory of Darren, clingy defiantly in his nostrils, mocking him. Chris fumbled his way around the room in an effort to recollect his things. He cringed with his whole body at each unintentional sound that echoed like a bomb in his head. Behind him, Darren twitched slightly, rustling the bedding, though failed to open his eyes.
Wordlessly he prayed his way over the threshold and into the den. The landscape struck him as almost unrecognizable bathed in the bright clarity of morning. Everything had a sense of vacancy, no longer colored by orange lamplight -no more warm, secretive shadows and sweetly strummed music to fill the unoccupied crevices. The oversized chair they had shared ominously sat in the center of Chris’ vision, noiseless at the other end of the room. The uneasy reality of what they had done threatened to consume Chris’ thoughts once again. He brushed past it in search of a pen and paper. Darren’s kitchen drawers were predictably unorganized. He sifted through at least ten empty company pens, receipts and half-used Disney’s Aladdin sticker packs, Chris noted with begrudging amusement. He settled on a sharpie and a flimsy napkin. Black bled through the fibers onto his hands.
A noise from behind caused the pen to jump from his grip in alarm. “Chris?” Darren’s unused vocal chords scratched. He sheepishly rotated to face him. There the other boy stood uncertainly, still in briefs and a t-shirt, but with a pair of glasses in place of contacts and a touch more stubble across his jaw. Seeing Darren like this, it felt far too intimate, private. Chris swore the nerves between them were palpable. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I just thought I’d come in and see if you were still around,” Darren offered, glancing at Chris’ excuse for a note and the fallen sharpie.
“No, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to wake you,”
“You don’t have to go you know, if you don’t want to. I was gonna offer to make some eggs or, or maybe coffee if eggs are too much. If you wanted some.” He blinked from behind the lenses. Chris felt something inside him crumble.
“I really should go, but thank you. I, well I appreciate it,” Chris finally met his eyes, willing himself not to break down, because he had just hooked up with Darren Criss and it had meant everything and potentially nothing. Worst of all, even in that moment he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him good-morning, pushed up against the counters and tracing those stupidly cute glasses with his finger tips. He needed to leave.
“Ah, well ok,” Darren conceded, “Your keys are somewhere over here I think.” He grabbed the metal lump from his coffee table. “Can we… meet up later or something?” he nervously suggested
“Yea, that could be good,” Chris let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, talking scared him out of his mind but at least Darren wasn’t avoiding him. “I’ll call you.” He chanced a look before exiting the apartment to see Darren offering a small, hopeful smile and wave from the doorway. His heart beat a little too quickly at the miniscule gesture for his comfort.
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They met later that afternoon, agreeing the Venice boardwalk was a neutral enough spot. The day unfolded blindingly blue and bright, as usual. The wind playfully fluttered canvas and souvenir shirts at random. Darren sat waiting on a bench, a bouquet of white daisies lying next to him. Chris was powerless to the heavy blush that burned his cheeks as soon as he set eyes on them.
“Hey,” Darren stood up hurriedly with a flash of teeth, “These are for you,” he held out the green plastic wrapped stems towards Chris.
“Darren, what- what is this?” he almost laughed, looking incredulously at the gift, still waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.
“Just something I picked up,” he replied with a shrug, then cleared his throat and added, “Do you uh, want to walk?” They made their way down towards a vendor selling hot dogs and cotton candy and fake gold shades shaped into letters spelling Hollywood. They veered around the subject until Chris stopped to look him in the eye, summoning every ounce of courage he had.
“Look Darren, I messed up, and if-” he looked downward at the cracked sidewalk when a hand grabbed his arm, causing him to lift his gaze again.
“Chris, if anybody screwed up, it was me. I seriously messed with your head, I know that. I want things to be ok between us. I want it more than anything.” He paused, “I also want you to know that I wasn’t trying to use you or to experiment or any of that.”
“Just- what happened? You don’t, you’re not…I mean, you only date girls…” Chris gave a pathetic chuckle at his own inability to speak.
Darren took a deep breath. “Yea, no, I was never lying to you or anybody else about that. I do date women, I’ve always dated women,” now it was his turn to blush, “Can we find somewhere more private? This feels kinda weird.”
“Of course!” Chris immediately agreed, searching out a picnic table that looked relatively deserted, slightly off the beaten path, “Sorry, would this work? This spot doesn’t appear to be very bustling at the moment?”
“Sure, this is fine,” he took a seat and picked at splinters of whitewashed wood. “Where was I?” he smiled nervously, “Oh yea. I identify as straight, because that’s what my dating history is and that’s what I foresaw it being in the future. It didn’t feel right to take into account what I may or may not have….thought about, if that’s all it was ever going to be. Just a passing whim or fantasy or whatever.”
“Darren, I’m not sure I know what you’re trying to say,”
“See… ok, I figured it was normal, I never really thought about my sexuality until later in my life. Before it wasn’t a big deal, who I did or didn’t think about. It was totally normal to compliment guys or admire how they looked. It wasn’t weird to call them lovely. I liked it. We had labels sure, but nobody ever taught me that just because I asked a girl to dinner that it was weird to be able to recite The Bird Cage from memory, or that I shouldn’t find the kiss in that movie Velvet Goldmine to be really romantic. I also really like the songs...” Darren sighed and ran a hand over his face. “What I’m trying to say is, I can’t make any promises, and I’m a little messy, but I’d love to take you out some time, Chris Colfer, if you’d have me.”
Chris gaped and stuttered, “Me? with you? On a -date-? Like, as in the romantic kind of date?”
Stifling a laugh he confirmed, “Yes Chris, that kind of date. Hand holding, opening doors -the whole ten yards,” Darren feigned calm while his eyes wordlessly added, “If that’s alright with you.”
Chris tried to make the world stop spinning for a second as his mind ran a mile a minute. “I’m not sure if this is such a good idea…” he muttered, “Darren, so many things could go wrong. We work together, not to mention your, well, uncertainty in the sexuality department…I don’t, I don't want to get hurt Darren...”
Grasping Chris' hands, he recaptured his attention, “I know it’s a big risk for a big old idiot like me, and there’s no pressure, but I just…I know what I want. I know that much, and I’d promise to treat this thing, your feelings with the utmost of care and I’d be nothing but honest with you. All I’m asking is for you to give me a chance. All I’m asking is for you to let me show you, one date.”
They sat without speaking for what felt like eternity before Chris finally conceded with a unsteady huff, “What the heck, it’s just one date, right?” The butterflies in his stomach threatened to burst through at any moment. Darren couldn’t hold back the upward turn of his lips either, leaning their foreheads together, noses brushed, closing his eyes.
“I won’t let you down Chris,” he whispered.
“God, I can’t wait to kiss you again.” Darren leaned down to graze their lips, his own trembling slightly, “You scare the living shit out of me Chris Colfer,”