Fic: The One Where Darren Pretends To Be A Cheerio {RPF}
Ttitle The One Where Darren Pretends To Be A Cheerio
Rating PG-13
Word Count 2,606
Pairings Darren/Chris, Chris/Lea friendship, minor talk of Lea/Cory
Summary ... and sends Chris videos. Yeah. What it says on the tin.
Notes It was either post with this title or not post until tomorrow. Enjoy? :D
Chris really enjoys his new filming schedule with Glee. It allows him to focus his energy on his other projects more evenly, as opposed to having to attempt to write in his trailer or, even worse, actually on set when Chord is testing out impressions on Mark loudly in the background.
However, that doesn’t mean he’s not prone to pangs of some sort of odd emotion every once in a while when he’s not filming. It’s not sadness, it’s definitely not jealousy; simply the distinct feeling that he’s missing out on something he’d rather not be.
It all starts innocently enough when he gets a text from Darren. So when they forced you to wear this thing were you forced to squeeze into like the xx-small uniform? POLYESTER CHAFES MAN!!!!
Chris wracks his brain to try and figure out what the hell he’s even talking about, and then he remembers Blaine and Tina are joining the Cheerios and they’re filming those scenes today. The girls don’t have to worry about that with their swingy skirts. They don’t understand And no, not really, season 1, remember? That was before I knew what a treadmill was. I wasn’t filling out anything back then.
Chris sets his laptop aside, knowing Darren is probably at a lull in filming and is going to be chatty - he’s not going to be able to concentrate with his phone pinging every thirty seconds. And sure enough. Bullshit, Colfer, I saw that footage. The pants are fine - I mean sure they’re tight but the shirt is *super* tight. We have to do this thing with hula hoops and it keeps riding up and the set dressers keep yelling at me but I can’t help it. Jenna’s making fun of me. She’s laughing at my pain. Her uniform fits fine!
A laugh slips through Chris’s own lips, but he’d be lying if the image of Darren in the stupid uniform, complete with a sliver of tanned skin showing between the halves of the bright red fabric, didn’t jump into his mind. That’s because they have ten times as many female uniforms. You had maybe 3 choices. Hula hoops???
It takes a few minutes for Darren to text back, and Chris thinks he’s lost him to filming at first. He gets up from the comfy spot on his bed to refill glass with diet Coke, and when he returns, he finds two attached videos. The first one is of Jenna, who waves sweetly and tells him hello as she twirls a hula hoop around her hips for about thirty seconds before it drops to the ground. There are other extras dressed as Cheerios in the background, so it must be a group scene.
The next video is Darren, and sure enough, he places the hoop around his hips and the shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of his stomach peeking above his waistband on the blurry iPhone video. Chris hears him swear, loud and clear even through the static of Jenna (presumably) trying to position the phone. “See, I can’t raise my arms over my head or that happens,” he says directly to the phone, directly to Chris, before setting his own hula hoop in motion and swiveling his hips to keep it afloat.
Which, it’s kind of unfair, the way Darren can look that good over a stupid iPhone video - the way the shirt’s fitting him so snugly through the arms and torso; the way his hips keep jutting out - there’s no way they’re going to let him do those moves on film, he’ll have to tone them down; the way his shirt is riding up again, he’s totally doing it on purpose now. “Wish you were here,” Darren finishes directly into the phone’s camera with a teasing voice, and then he winks, the bastard.
That does it. Chris has to see this phenomenon in person. As far as he knows, they’re shooting all of the Cheerio stuff today, possibly tomorrow if it runs over, but he’s not going to risk it. Your hips are going to be so sore by the end of the day and it’s not even for a good reason. Lea has to pick something up from set later. I might have to tag along so I can make fun of you in person. It’s a bold-faced lie, but hopefully Darren won’t see right through him. He actually doesn’t particularly care either way.
If you’re coming, does that mean you can give me good reason? ;) Duty calls! See you soon, I hope? Jerk. He did see right through him. Chris doesn’t even dignify him with a response, just calls Lea instead.
“What happened to not wanting to be disturbed all day?” Lea squeaks out in greeting, and Chris just rolls his eyes. “I thought you were going to write straight through!”
“Whatever, distractions. Are you recording this afternoon? Can I borrow you? I need to go to set.” He’s already saving the minimal progress he made on the document he had open. Nothing’s pressing, at least, though he did tell Lea not to disturb him when he saw her yesterday.
“Why do you need to go on set?” Lea asks, confused, and then, she catches on. “Ohhhhhhh, Cory mentioned they’re filming that scene later where everyone leaves New Directions for all the other clubs. Basketball … marching band … the Cheerios ….”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Chris breathes out, actually closing his laptop now. “They’re actually sending me videos, Jenna and Darren. They’re horrible, horrible human beings, okay? If I go by myself, I’ll look like a perv, I told them you already had to go to set and I was tagging along.”
“What?” Lea squeals, and he can hear the blare of her television in the background, so she must be up and moving finally.
“Oh, come on, your boyfriend is working today! There are dozens of reasons for you to be there! I panicked!” Chris starts ransacking his closet because he still has on a hoodie and sweatpants. He should probably at least throw on some jeans.
“You mean you saw the video and wanted to get laid,” Lea corrects, and Chris opens his mouth to object, but she’s not wrong. She’s only one of two people he’s told about his random and far-between hookups with Darren. “I will come with you and formulate a fabulous cover story under one condition.”
“What?” he asks, sighing wearily as he pulls out a blue checkered shirt that’s not too wrinkled.
“Forward me that video.”
*
Lea picks him up, blathering on about surprising Cory with dinner at one of his favorite places after filming is wrapped, and see? She should be thanking him, and so should Cory, frankly. He’s keeping them all romantic and shit.
When they’re halfway there, Lea turns to him seriously and says, “After I saw the video, I knew I had to assist you in your quest towards intriguing role-play sex, because someone should be tapping that on the regular, for real.”
Chris groans loudly. “Lea, I said I’d forward it. I didn’t say I would talk about it.” He’s about to correct her on the regular, because it’s been months, but he lets it slide.
“I’m just saying! Who knew his hips -”
“Lea!”
When they get to set, everyone is filming the last scene of the day, the one Lea mentioned on the auditorium stage. Everyone’s in their alternate uniforms, and Chris and Lea stand off to the side trying not to draw attention to themselves. Once the scene wraps though, everyone rushes to them, because they haven’t filmed with everyone in three episodes, which seems like forever. Chris gushes over Jenna in her Cheerios outfit and squeezes her tight and makes fun of Kevin’s hat, and suddenly, Darren sneaks up behind him.
“I’m dying to know all the jokes you worked on all the way here,” he whispers low in Chris’s ear, and the tone is just sinful. Chris knows he’s smirking too - he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“I somehow used them all up on these idiots,” he replies without turning to face him. “Lea’s going out with Cory afterwards. I didn’t really think this through. Drive me home?” He does glance back at Darren at that, and notices how Darren’s eyebrows jump up towards his hairline.
“Uh. Yeah, sure. Just give me a few to get changed.” Chris stares at him pointedly as if to tell him he should do nothing of the sort, but at the same time, he’s not going to follow Darren back to his trailer right away. He sticks around a while longer, catching up with Chord and Heather before excusing himself and sneaking off.
By the time he raps on the trailer door, Darren’s curls are wet, so he either hopped in the shower or simply washed Blaine’s helmet hair out in the sink. Either way, the Cheerio uniform is on and a towel is around his shoulders, and Chris clucks his tongue in approval as he slips through the door, shutting it quickly behind him. “You never can wait to get that stuff off of you, hmm?” Chris muses, tracing a water droplet behind Darren’s ear and down his neck before removing his hand and walking further inside. Darren just laughs and uses the towel to fluff at his hair some more, trying to remove the excess water.
“So, was this your plan all along? To lure me to your trailer with shaky cell phone videos?” Chris asks, a lit in his voice, and he smiles as he turns around, finding Darren right behind him. Darren has to quit sneaking up on him like that.
“Fuck, if I knew that’s all it took, I’d have sent you videos forever ago. I have hundreds on that thing. You know I film everything.” Darren steps closer, grinning widely, white, shining teeth peeking through his lips, which reminds Chris.
“Not all of them have your stomach sticking out of your shirt in them as you hula hoop for dear life, though,” he says as he runs a finger along the waistband of Darren’s red polyester pants. He goes back the other way, his thumb running over the soft flesh of Darren’s abdomen. Chris hears him suck in a breath sharply, and looks up from where his eyes are locked on his hands to meet Darren’s gaze.
“Told you it was tight,” Darren mumbles as Chris runs his fingers up the black line of the top, all the way up to Darren’s shoulders and down to where the arms are almost constricting his biceps.
“Remind me to thank someone later,” Chris murmurs back before surging forward and crashing their lips together. He reaches out for Darrens ass to pull him closer as they kiss fervently, their mouths becoming reacquainted with each other, and the red material is scratchy under his palms. God, why does something that looks so good have to feel so awful? Probably because the people who actually wear said uniforms are almost a decade younger than them and have far fewer standards.
Speaking of.
“I’m not having sex in your trailer,” Chris blurts out as Darren kisses him and misses, messy and off-center, and Darren groans at the mention of sex - Chris isn’t sure why, what did he think they were going to do? Make out and have tea? “Come on, get changed so we can go to my place.”
“I thought the uniform thing did it for you, though,” Darren points out, his voice low and sultry as his teeth graze Chris’s neck and it’s Chris’s turn to whine. “I mean, unless -”
“I never said I was against borrowing it for the night,” he gasps as Darren makes his way back to his lips. “Tell them you forgot it in here, you forgot to drop it off for cleaning,” he whispers between kisses. “At least - at least bring the shirt, I don’t know if I want to deal with possibly staining the pants.”
“What are you implying?” Darren asks, and Chris can feel his lips curl into a smile as they continue to kiss through their conversation.
“I’m implying … that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come with no consideration for what you were wearing, hmm? And red polyester doesn’t seem very forgiving.”
“Point,” Darren replies with another kiss against Chris’s lips, this one longer that the rest, Darren’s tongue slipping between his lips and making it very hard to concentrate on the objective to leave. Darren’s fingers grip Chris’s bicep through his button-down, and he sighs against his lips. “Too bad this is way too small to fit you, I bet you’d look amazing in one.”
Chris hums, planting one more quick kiss before forcing himself from Darren’s grasp. “I don’t have a Cheerio uniform at home, but they did let me keep the football jersey from Preggers. It might still fit.”
Darren’s eyes grow wide at that, and Chris just laughs as he almost trips in his haste trying to get changed. Chris sure hopes he can find it in the recesses of his closet.
(He’s pretty sure it won’t matter either way.)
Rating PG-13
Word Count 2,606
Pairings Darren/Chris, Chris/Lea friendship, minor talk of Lea/Cory
Summary ... and sends Chris videos. Yeah. What it says on the tin.
Notes It was either post with this title or not post until tomorrow. Enjoy? :D
Chris really enjoys his new filming schedule with Glee. It allows him to focus his energy on his other projects more evenly, as opposed to having to attempt to write in his trailer or, even worse, actually on set when Chord is testing out impressions on Mark loudly in the background.
However, that doesn’t mean he’s not prone to pangs of some sort of odd emotion every once in a while when he’s not filming. It’s not sadness, it’s definitely not jealousy; simply the distinct feeling that he’s missing out on something he’d rather not be.
It all starts innocently enough when he gets a text from Darren. So when they forced you to wear this thing were you forced to squeeze into like the xx-small uniform? POLYESTER CHAFES MAN!!!!
Chris wracks his brain to try and figure out what the hell he’s even talking about, and then he remembers Blaine and Tina are joining the Cheerios and they’re filming those scenes today. The girls don’t have to worry about that with their swingy skirts. They don’t understand And no, not really, season 1, remember? That was before I knew what a treadmill was. I wasn’t filling out anything back then.
Chris sets his laptop aside, knowing Darren is probably at a lull in filming and is going to be chatty - he’s not going to be able to concentrate with his phone pinging every thirty seconds. And sure enough. Bullshit, Colfer, I saw that footage. The pants are fine - I mean sure they’re tight but the shirt is *super* tight. We have to do this thing with hula hoops and it keeps riding up and the set dressers keep yelling at me but I can’t help it. Jenna’s making fun of me. She’s laughing at my pain. Her uniform fits fine!
A laugh slips through Chris’s own lips, but he’d be lying if the image of Darren in the stupid uniform, complete with a sliver of tanned skin showing between the halves of the bright red fabric, didn’t jump into his mind. That’s because they have ten times as many female uniforms. You had maybe 3 choices. Hula hoops???
It takes a few minutes for Darren to text back, and Chris thinks he’s lost him to filming at first. He gets up from the comfy spot on his bed to refill glass with diet Coke, and when he returns, he finds two attached videos. The first one is of Jenna, who waves sweetly and tells him hello as she twirls a hula hoop around her hips for about thirty seconds before it drops to the ground. There are other extras dressed as Cheerios in the background, so it must be a group scene.
The next video is Darren, and sure enough, he places the hoop around his hips and the shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of his stomach peeking above his waistband on the blurry iPhone video. Chris hears him swear, loud and clear even through the static of Jenna (presumably) trying to position the phone. “See, I can’t raise my arms over my head or that happens,” he says directly to the phone, directly to Chris, before setting his own hula hoop in motion and swiveling his hips to keep it afloat.
Which, it’s kind of unfair, the way Darren can look that good over a stupid iPhone video - the way the shirt’s fitting him so snugly through the arms and torso; the way his hips keep jutting out - there’s no way they’re going to let him do those moves on film, he’ll have to tone them down; the way his shirt is riding up again, he’s totally doing it on purpose now. “Wish you were here,” Darren finishes directly into the phone’s camera with a teasing voice, and then he winks, the bastard.
That does it. Chris has to see this phenomenon in person. As far as he knows, they’re shooting all of the Cheerio stuff today, possibly tomorrow if it runs over, but he’s not going to risk it. Your hips are going to be so sore by the end of the day and it’s not even for a good reason. Lea has to pick something up from set later. I might have to tag along so I can make fun of you in person. It’s a bold-faced lie, but hopefully Darren won’t see right through him. He actually doesn’t particularly care either way.
If you’re coming, does that mean you can give me good reason? ;) Duty calls! See you soon, I hope? Jerk. He did see right through him. Chris doesn’t even dignify him with a response, just calls Lea instead.
“What happened to not wanting to be disturbed all day?” Lea squeaks out in greeting, and Chris just rolls his eyes. “I thought you were going to write straight through!”
“Whatever, distractions. Are you recording this afternoon? Can I borrow you? I need to go to set.” He’s already saving the minimal progress he made on the document he had open. Nothing’s pressing, at least, though he did tell Lea not to disturb him when he saw her yesterday.
“Why do you need to go on set?” Lea asks, confused, and then, she catches on. “Ohhhhhhh, Cory mentioned they’re filming that scene later where everyone leaves New Directions for all the other clubs. Basketball … marching band … the Cheerios ….”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Chris breathes out, actually closing his laptop now. “They’re actually sending me videos, Jenna and Darren. They’re horrible, horrible human beings, okay? If I go by myself, I’ll look like a perv, I told them you already had to go to set and I was tagging along.”
“What?” Lea squeals, and he can hear the blare of her television in the background, so she must be up and moving finally.
“Oh, come on, your boyfriend is working today! There are dozens of reasons for you to be there! I panicked!” Chris starts ransacking his closet because he still has on a hoodie and sweatpants. He should probably at least throw on some jeans.
“You mean you saw the video and wanted to get laid,” Lea corrects, and Chris opens his mouth to object, but she’s not wrong. She’s only one of two people he’s told about his random and far-between hookups with Darren. “I will come with you and formulate a fabulous cover story under one condition.”
“What?” he asks, sighing wearily as he pulls out a blue checkered shirt that’s not too wrinkled.
“Forward me that video.”
*
Lea picks him up, blathering on about surprising Cory with dinner at one of his favorite places after filming is wrapped, and see? She should be thanking him, and so should Cory, frankly. He’s keeping them all romantic and shit.
When they’re halfway there, Lea turns to him seriously and says, “After I saw the video, I knew I had to assist you in your quest towards intriguing role-play sex, because someone should be tapping that on the regular, for real.”
Chris groans loudly. “Lea, I said I’d forward it. I didn’t say I would talk about it.” He’s about to correct her on the regular, because it’s been months, but he lets it slide.
“I’m just saying! Who knew his hips -”
“Lea!”
When they get to set, everyone is filming the last scene of the day, the one Lea mentioned on the auditorium stage. Everyone’s in their alternate uniforms, and Chris and Lea stand off to the side trying not to draw attention to themselves. Once the scene wraps though, everyone rushes to them, because they haven’t filmed with everyone in three episodes, which seems like forever. Chris gushes over Jenna in her Cheerios outfit and squeezes her tight and makes fun of Kevin’s hat, and suddenly, Darren sneaks up behind him.
“I’m dying to know all the jokes you worked on all the way here,” he whispers low in Chris’s ear, and the tone is just sinful. Chris knows he’s smirking too - he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“I somehow used them all up on these idiots,” he replies without turning to face him. “Lea’s going out with Cory afterwards. I didn’t really think this through. Drive me home?” He does glance back at Darren at that, and notices how Darren’s eyebrows jump up towards his hairline.
“Uh. Yeah, sure. Just give me a few to get changed.” Chris stares at him pointedly as if to tell him he should do nothing of the sort, but at the same time, he’s not going to follow Darren back to his trailer right away. He sticks around a while longer, catching up with Chord and Heather before excusing himself and sneaking off.
By the time he raps on the trailer door, Darren’s curls are wet, so he either hopped in the shower or simply washed Blaine’s helmet hair out in the sink. Either way, the Cheerio uniform is on and a towel is around his shoulders, and Chris clucks his tongue in approval as he slips through the door, shutting it quickly behind him. “You never can wait to get that stuff off of you, hmm?” Chris muses, tracing a water droplet behind Darren’s ear and down his neck before removing his hand and walking further inside. Darren just laughs and uses the towel to fluff at his hair some more, trying to remove the excess water.
“So, was this your plan all along? To lure me to your trailer with shaky cell phone videos?” Chris asks, a lit in his voice, and he smiles as he turns around, finding Darren right behind him. Darren has to quit sneaking up on him like that.
“Fuck, if I knew that’s all it took, I’d have sent you videos forever ago. I have hundreds on that thing. You know I film everything.” Darren steps closer, grinning widely, white, shining teeth peeking through his lips, which reminds Chris.
“Not all of them have your stomach sticking out of your shirt in them as you hula hoop for dear life, though,” he says as he runs a finger along the waistband of Darren’s red polyester pants. He goes back the other way, his thumb running over the soft flesh of Darren’s abdomen. Chris hears him suck in a breath sharply, and looks up from where his eyes are locked on his hands to meet Darren’s gaze.
“Told you it was tight,” Darren mumbles as Chris runs his fingers up the black line of the top, all the way up to Darren’s shoulders and down to where the arms are almost constricting his biceps.
“Remind me to thank someone later,” Chris murmurs back before surging forward and crashing their lips together. He reaches out for Darrens ass to pull him closer as they kiss fervently, their mouths becoming reacquainted with each other, and the red material is scratchy under his palms. God, why does something that looks so good have to feel so awful? Probably because the people who actually wear said uniforms are almost a decade younger than them and have far fewer standards.
Speaking of.
“I’m not having sex in your trailer,” Chris blurts out as Darren kisses him and misses, messy and off-center, and Darren groans at the mention of sex - Chris isn’t sure why, what did he think they were going to do? Make out and have tea? “Come on, get changed so we can go to my place.”
“I thought the uniform thing did it for you, though,” Darren points out, his voice low and sultry as his teeth graze Chris’s neck and it’s Chris’s turn to whine. “I mean, unless -”
“I never said I was against borrowing it for the night,” he gasps as Darren makes his way back to his lips. “Tell them you forgot it in here, you forgot to drop it off for cleaning,” he whispers between kisses. “At least - at least bring the shirt, I don’t know if I want to deal with possibly staining the pants.”
“What are you implying?” Darren asks, and Chris can feel his lips curl into a smile as they continue to kiss through their conversation.
“I’m implying … that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come with no consideration for what you were wearing, hmm? And red polyester doesn’t seem very forgiving.”
“Point,” Darren replies with another kiss against Chris’s lips, this one longer that the rest, Darren’s tongue slipping between his lips and making it very hard to concentrate on the objective to leave. Darren’s fingers grip Chris’s bicep through his button-down, and he sighs against his lips. “Too bad this is way too small to fit you, I bet you’d look amazing in one.”
Chris hums, planting one more quick kiss before forcing himself from Darren’s grasp. “I don’t have a Cheerio uniform at home, but they did let me keep the football jersey from Preggers. It might still fit.”
Darren’s eyes grow wide at that, and Chris just laughs as he almost trips in his haste trying to get changed. Chris sure hopes he can find it in the recesses of his closet.
(He’s pretty sure it won’t matter either way.)