fic: we are a hurricane
Title: We Are A Hurricane
Rating: PG
Pairing: Chris/Darren
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 1340
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Title from the song Hurricane by Panic At The Disco because I couldn't help but embrace the irony.
Summary: With Darren stuck in NY during the hurricane, Chris is in LA worrying.
A/N: Based off a post I made on Tumblr here.
Chris hated New York.
He hated it.
Well…okay, he didn’t hate it(to be quite honest he was in love with the city, but that’s besides the point).
He hated the weather, or Mother Nature, or whatever.
Maybe he hated the movie (as if. It is Kristen friggin Wiig).
He just needed to hate something. He needed to blame something for the anxiety that was gnawing at his mind tearing him apart from the inside out.
It was the last Saturday of August, of summer, and Chris Colfer was spending it in his living room glued to the tv, his cell phone practically welded onto his hand.
He’d had the news on all day, changing the channel abruptly whenever it would go to commercial just to change to the Weather Channel. His laptop on the coffee table in front of him was live-updating every three minutes with news reports from the East Coast.
It was barely midday and yet he had sent at least thirty texts to Darren, constantly asking if he was okay, if he was staying inside, preferably in the basement of his brother’s house where he was staying.
Darren indulged him, texting back almost immediately and even sending Chris photos of his smiling face, assuring him that he was fine.
And then 8pm hit, and down pouring began.
Chris was watching an Eyewitness News livestream on his computer where the reporter was out in Queens, barely being heard or seen over the roar of the wind or the crashing of the rain against the camera lens.
Darren was filming in Queens his mind instantly added, making Chris’ heart jump to his throat as his hands scrambled over the couch for his phone.
He quickly hit the speed-dial button for Darren (shut up, he had most of the cast on speed-dial), his knee bouncing up and down as he waited for Darren to pick up.
“Hey,”
“Darren!”
“I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message! Unless you’re Joey, then you can fuck off.”
Chris heard Darren’s laughter die out on his voicemail before the beep went off for him to leave a message.
It took him a few seconds before he spoke, “H-hey, it’s me. Just um…checking in. Call me back. I know I’m being neurotic but just humor me or whatever, kay?”
Chris hung up and dropped the phone next to him before opening a new window to find other weather livestreams.
**
It was almost midnight and Darren still hadn’t called back.
Chris kept watching the news and swiping his thumb over his phone’s screen every few minutes to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
It was around 3am when Chris laid back on his couch, his tv perpetually on the weather channel at this point.
Every time he closed his eyes, Chris’ imagination got the best of him. He had vivid mental images of Chuck’s house getting his by a tree or a downed power line crashing through the windows or, and Chris all but groaned at the irony, Darren walking Chuck’s dog and getting struck by lightning.
Each scenario got worse and worse but eventually he fell asleep, his phone resting on his chest.
**
Chris blinked awake a few hours later, squinting at the bright light of the television shining into his eyes before he turned over, back cracking at the sudden change in position.
Chris muffle a groan into the back of the couch as he groped around his phone, glancing at the screen to see it was a few minutes past 5am and he had no missed calls or messages.
He debated calling again but then chose to text instead, sending a quick Please be okay before dropping the phone down next to him and closing his eyes, willing his mind to just shut the hell up.
It was barely a minute later before the chorus of Heavy Metal Lover began blasting from his phone. He eyes shot open and he froze for a second before jumping for his phone so fast he almost feel off the couch.
“H-hello?!”
“Hey.”
That’s all it took. Just one syllable falling out of Darren Criss’ mouth for Chris to fall off the couch and onto the carpet with a thud as a weight lifted off of his shoulders.
“Darren.” Chris breathed, letting his head fall back to the couch behind him, closing his eyes.
Chris focused on the sound of Darren’s breathing through the phone before he spoke again, “You’re okay?” He asked quietly, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Chuck’s house lost power last night and his basement is totally flooded. I’m guessing a line went down or something because we all lost phone service so I just turned my cell off. It just came back up like fifteen minutes ago.”
“Sorry,” Chris said suddenly, realizing he probably texted the moment Darren turned his phone back on, “Did I wake you?”
Darren laughed over the line, making a smile tug at the corners of Chris’ mouth before he spoke, “No, I was awake already.”
Chris wasn’t surprised. Darren had a strained relationship with sleep. If his bed could talk it would probably let out a jealous rant about all the time Darren spent with coffee and red bulls.
Chris scrubbed a hand over his face to rid his mind of that mental image before picking his head up and glancing at the tv, seeing it was 5:15.
Making it 8am in New York.
Oh.
“But yeah, it wasn’t that bad at all. Everyone here was freaking out like it was the damn apocalypse upon us and all’s we really got was a lot of rain and wind.”
“People died though.” Chris added, picking at the hem of his jeans to give his hand something to do as he practically felt Darren’s eye roll across the country.
“Yeah, I know. But that was more in Virginia and whatnot. It was blown way out of proportion up here.”
“Yeah well, thank god for that.” Chris mumbled, running his hand through his hair and closing his eyes again, scenarios creeping into his mind again.
“Chris?” Darren called softly.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m here.” He answered absentmindedly.
“I said I can’t wait to get back over there…back home. To you.”
This time Chris did smile. He smiled at the warmth that spread through his veins and relaxed his muscles, calming him.
“I can’t wait either, I miss you. We all do.”
Darren huffed out a laugh and Chris faintly heard a dog bark in the background. He suddenly tried to picture Darren at that moment, his mind coming up with the image of him sitting in his brother’s kitchen, his hair a mess of curls flying everywhere and wearing an old, holey t-shirt with baggy sweatpants and glasses.
Chris’ grin grew wider with the thought.
“I gotta go,” Darren said suddenly, a faint rustling noise coming through the phone with his movements, “Chuck said my mom is on the phone practically flipping her shit with worry so I better calm her down. I’ll see you in a day or two, yeah?”
Chris nodded before speaking, blurting out what he was thinking before he could stop himself, “Yeah. I’ll go…I’ll pick you up at the airport. If you want? I-I, you can say no, I’m sure you can get a driver or whatever-”
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“I would love for you to pick me up.”
“Okay.” Chris breathed, nodding to himself more than anything.
“Okay.” Darren replied, happiness lacing the word.
“Bye Dare.” Chris said after a moment of silence.
“Bye Chris. I can’t wait to see you.”
Chris agreed and hung up, letting out a breath before looking back up at the Weather Channel that was showing people in Southern New Jersey whose cars were underwater.
He pulled himself off of the ground and shut the tv off, having seen enough of the hurricane and what it had done.
Darren was okay. In the end, that’s all that really mattered to him.
Follow me on tumblr here at kissedmequiteinsane for future fic updates.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Chris/Darren
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 1340
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Title from the song Hurricane by Panic At The Disco because I couldn't help but embrace the irony.
Summary: With Darren stuck in NY during the hurricane, Chris is in LA worrying.
A/N: Based off a post I made on Tumblr here.
Chris hated New York.
He hated it.
Well…okay, he didn’t hate it(to be quite honest he was in love with the city, but that’s besides the point).
He hated the weather, or Mother Nature, or whatever.
Maybe he hated the movie (as if. It is Kristen friggin Wiig).
He just needed to hate something. He needed to blame something for the anxiety that was gnawing at his mind tearing him apart from the inside out.
It was the last Saturday of August, of summer, and Chris Colfer was spending it in his living room glued to the tv, his cell phone practically welded onto his hand.
He’d had the news on all day, changing the channel abruptly whenever it would go to commercial just to change to the Weather Channel. His laptop on the coffee table in front of him was live-updating every three minutes with news reports from the East Coast.
It was barely midday and yet he had sent at least thirty texts to Darren, constantly asking if he was okay, if he was staying inside, preferably in the basement of his brother’s house where he was staying.
Darren indulged him, texting back almost immediately and even sending Chris photos of his smiling face, assuring him that he was fine.
And then 8pm hit, and down pouring began.
Chris was watching an Eyewitness News livestream on his computer where the reporter was out in Queens, barely being heard or seen over the roar of the wind or the crashing of the rain against the camera lens.
Darren was filming in Queens his mind instantly added, making Chris’ heart jump to his throat as his hands scrambled over the couch for his phone.
He quickly hit the speed-dial button for Darren (shut up, he had most of the cast on speed-dial), his knee bouncing up and down as he waited for Darren to pick up.
“Hey,”
“Darren!”
“I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message! Unless you’re Joey, then you can fuck off.”
Chris heard Darren’s laughter die out on his voicemail before the beep went off for him to leave a message.
It took him a few seconds before he spoke, “H-hey, it’s me. Just um…checking in. Call me back. I know I’m being neurotic but just humor me or whatever, kay?”
Chris hung up and dropped the phone next to him before opening a new window to find other weather livestreams.
**
It was almost midnight and Darren still hadn’t called back.
Chris kept watching the news and swiping his thumb over his phone’s screen every few minutes to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
It was around 3am when Chris laid back on his couch, his tv perpetually on the weather channel at this point.
Every time he closed his eyes, Chris’ imagination got the best of him. He had vivid mental images of Chuck’s house getting his by a tree or a downed power line crashing through the windows or, and Chris all but groaned at the irony, Darren walking Chuck’s dog and getting struck by lightning.
Each scenario got worse and worse but eventually he fell asleep, his phone resting on his chest.
**
Chris blinked awake a few hours later, squinting at the bright light of the television shining into his eyes before he turned over, back cracking at the sudden change in position.
Chris muffle a groan into the back of the couch as he groped around his phone, glancing at the screen to see it was a few minutes past 5am and he had no missed calls or messages.
He debated calling again but then chose to text instead, sending a quick Please be okay before dropping the phone down next to him and closing his eyes, willing his mind to just shut the hell up.
It was barely a minute later before the chorus of Heavy Metal Lover began blasting from his phone. He eyes shot open and he froze for a second before jumping for his phone so fast he almost feel off the couch.
“H-hello?!”
“Hey.”
That’s all it took. Just one syllable falling out of Darren Criss’ mouth for Chris to fall off the couch and onto the carpet with a thud as a weight lifted off of his shoulders.
“Darren.” Chris breathed, letting his head fall back to the couch behind him, closing his eyes.
Chris focused on the sound of Darren’s breathing through the phone before he spoke again, “You’re okay?” He asked quietly, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Chuck’s house lost power last night and his basement is totally flooded. I’m guessing a line went down or something because we all lost phone service so I just turned my cell off. It just came back up like fifteen minutes ago.”
“Sorry,” Chris said suddenly, realizing he probably texted the moment Darren turned his phone back on, “Did I wake you?”
Darren laughed over the line, making a smile tug at the corners of Chris’ mouth before he spoke, “No, I was awake already.”
Chris wasn’t surprised. Darren had a strained relationship with sleep. If his bed could talk it would probably let out a jealous rant about all the time Darren spent with coffee and red bulls.
Chris scrubbed a hand over his face to rid his mind of that mental image before picking his head up and glancing at the tv, seeing it was 5:15.
Making it 8am in New York.
Oh.
“But yeah, it wasn’t that bad at all. Everyone here was freaking out like it was the damn apocalypse upon us and all’s we really got was a lot of rain and wind.”
“People died though.” Chris added, picking at the hem of his jeans to give his hand something to do as he practically felt Darren’s eye roll across the country.
“Yeah, I know. But that was more in Virginia and whatnot. It was blown way out of proportion up here.”
“Yeah well, thank god for that.” Chris mumbled, running his hand through his hair and closing his eyes again, scenarios creeping into his mind again.
“Chris?” Darren called softly.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m here.” He answered absentmindedly.
“I said I can’t wait to get back over there…back home. To you.”
This time Chris did smile. He smiled at the warmth that spread through his veins and relaxed his muscles, calming him.
“I can’t wait either, I miss you. We all do.”
Darren huffed out a laugh and Chris faintly heard a dog bark in the background. He suddenly tried to picture Darren at that moment, his mind coming up with the image of him sitting in his brother’s kitchen, his hair a mess of curls flying everywhere and wearing an old, holey t-shirt with baggy sweatpants and glasses.
Chris’ grin grew wider with the thought.
“I gotta go,” Darren said suddenly, a faint rustling noise coming through the phone with his movements, “Chuck said my mom is on the phone practically flipping her shit with worry so I better calm her down. I’ll see you in a day or two, yeah?”
Chris nodded before speaking, blurting out what he was thinking before he could stop himself, “Yeah. I’ll go…I’ll pick you up at the airport. If you want? I-I, you can say no, I’m sure you can get a driver or whatever-”
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“I would love for you to pick me up.”
“Okay.” Chris breathed, nodding to himself more than anything.
“Okay.” Darren replied, happiness lacing the word.
“Bye Dare.” Chris said after a moment of silence.
“Bye Chris. I can’t wait to see you.”
Chris agreed and hung up, letting out a breath before looking back up at the Weather Channel that was showing people in Southern New Jersey whose cars were underwater.
He pulled himself off of the ground and shut the tv off, having seen enough of the hurricane and what it had done.
Darren was okay. In the end, that’s all that really mattered to him.
Follow me on tumblr here at kissedmequiteinsane for future fic updates.