bigbadporkchop (bigbadporkchop) wrote in kurt_blaine,
bigbadporkchop
bigbadporkchop
kurt_blaine

Fic: The Story of How Chris Isn't Goldilocks

Media: Fic
Title: The Story of How Chris Isn't Goldilocks
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Darren Criss/Chris Colfer
Spoilers: none
Warnings: Sex, Real Person Fiction
Word Count: ~8300
Notes: This fic has been kicking my ass for about a week. It's my first in the fandom and the transitions and pacing are kind of rough. There's an intentional tense change in the beginning that kind of bugs me and I'm not sure how well that works. So yeah. Please be kind ♥
Summary: Chris’s sex life is not really something Darren’s thought about before. Not purposefully, anyway. And it’s kind of a surprise that it doesn’t exist, but he can’t really pinpoint why.

Maybe it’s because Chris is sort of the epitome of the unattainable hot guy he’d be really frustrated by if he were gay. It’s weird to think of someone who could be getting so much sex just not doing it. ‘Cause of standards. Apparently Chris’s are high.



{Part one, pretty much the prologue, in which Darren taco-blocks himself.}




So Chris Colfer is a virgin.

Darren finds this out one day in September during a lunch break. He doesn’t, like, wheedle it out of anyone; he just went to get a taco at craft services and overheard Ashley and Lea laughing at something Chris was saying.

***

“So what was it this time?” Lea asked, crunching heartily on a carrot stick. “Too hot? Too cold?”

Ashley smirked. “Too soft? Too hard?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “For the last time: I am not Goldilocks! I’m not a girl, I don’t have ringlets, I’ve never even
tasted porridge, and despite what pretty much every patron of every gay bar in southern California thinks, I am not into bears.”

Lea cackled at that, and Ashley nudged him with her shoulder. “So seriously, what went wrong?”

“Ok, first of all, he smelled gross. He smelled
sour. I’m a boy. I like boys. Boy sweat doesn’t bother me. This was like… old man funk and ball sweat and rotten lemons all packed into one overly-compact package. It was raunchy, and he was really, really skinny. He hugged me hello and while I was trying not to puke he stabbed me with his hipbones.”

“Ew.” Ashley screwed up her nose.

“A nice-to-meet-you pelvic hug is never okay.” Lea nodded knowingly.

“Also, and don’t laugh ‘cause this is totally shallow, but he had really big earlobes. They were dangly and weird.”

“Oh, what are we going to do with you? You poor, poor thing.” Ashley put her arm around his shoulders gingerly.

“Someday,” Chris said, lifting his chin and taking a brave swig of his diet coke. “Someday I will find a man who is worthy of my virginity. But until then, I have you guys.”

Lea patted him consolingly on the arm and went back to her carrot sticks.

It was then that they noticed Darren, standing around conspicuously and sort of staring dumbly at Chris.

“What?” Ashley asked, voice flat.

“I just…” Darren pointed awkwardly behind himself. “Forgot something. Bye.”


***

Darren had, unsurprisingly, forgotten all about his taco.


{Part two: in which Darren is impulsive, mildly offensive, and also sweaty.}




They're dancing, just the two of them; Kurt and Blaine, Chris and Darren. Dancing in Blaine's room like idiots to some song that may actually be switched out later because Ryan's having some difficulty getting the rights. It’ll probably be spliced with scenes of other couples, anyway. Maybe even turned into a montage. Darren’s always wanted to be in a montage.

It's pretty nice, even though there are about a billionty crew members watching them and the lights are really bright and Darren knows that in a minute they're going to cut and set up for the second half of the scene. The second half of the scene which will entail a few awkward but fond giggle fits and then a pretty heated make-out session the final edit of which might not even get pared-down to before the tongue comes in.

And there will be tongue. Says so in the script.

Darren has it highlighted.

He shakes his head a little and looks over at Chris who is Kurt right now, slightly stiff but still adorably wiggly.

"Cut!" the director yells, and Darren stops bouncing but sort of stumbles into Chris, who huffs out a laugh as he falls onto the bed and then puffs out the rest of his air-reserves when Darren lands on top of him.

"Hello there," Chris wheezes out with his first reclaimed breath.

"Hi," Darren says stupidly, suddenly unable to see past Chris’s slightly confused eyes and the big, red, flashing, all-caps 'VIRGIN!' that his mind is super-imposing over Chris’s face.

Fuck.

He leans back, feeling his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. Stupid stage lights.

“Never thought Kurt would fall into bed with someone before I did.” Chris grins self-deprecatingly at him, his face all glowy from exertion and the really bright lights and Darren’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry.

He scoots to the edge of the mattress and turns to the director, who cuts off his request for a break with a preemptive, “Five minutes. Get a tic-tac or something, shit’s about to get real.”

Darren doesn’t need to be told twice; he grabs Chris by the elbow, drags his costar over to a relatively secluded section of the soundstage, and flops down on an out-of-place loveseat, tugging Chris down beside him. He takes a deep breath and looks up, licking his dry lips nervously. “I… I really like you, Chris.”

“Oh my god, are you serious right now?”

“Look, no, just hear me out.” Darren grabs Chris by the wrists and holds him still for a moment before letting go and scrubbing a hand over his face with a sigh. “You’re really amazing, and you deserve a first time with someone who knows that and wants it to be good for you. So I would totally, totally, you know-”

“Pity-punch my V-card?”

“No!” Darren starts violently, reaching out and grabbing Chris’s wrists again reflexively. “I could never. I could never pity you. That’s just… no.”

Chris gently extricates himself from Darren’s clutching fingers and takes a deep breath, glancing at Darren fondly. “There’s just one factor I think you’re overlooking here. Well, two. The first of which is that you’ve simply assumed I’m into you like that, which is kind of funny and unintentionally cheeky, but also pretty insignificant in light of the second issue.” Chris smiles at him, his vaguely amused and condescending smile disappearing his lips into a long line and scrunching up his chin. “You’re straight, Darren.”

He is. He’s pretty certain. He went through two months of extensive experimentation in college, just to be absolutely sure, but this is Chris. And Chris is… “But you’re…”

“I can’t have sex with someone, lose my virginity to someone just because he thinks I’m enough like a girl that it won’t matter.”

Darren maybe feels like a giant douche at that. He hadn’t really been thinking that, had he? Chris smiles at him and pats him on the knee.

“I want to be what someone’s looking for, not what they’re willing to do. Not what they’ve convinced themselves they can want, you know?”

Darren licks his lips and focuses his eyes, watching Chris and feeling the heat of his palm through Darren’s jeans. Chris is looking at him expectantly, and there’s a hint of trepidation in his gaze. Darren laughs softly and covers Chris’s hand. “You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”

Chris grins and tosses his head back, preening in a very Kurt-like manner. “Naturally.” He stands up, dragging his hand out from underneath Darren’s. “Now, let’s go make out in front of Ryan Murphy.”

“Oh god. Way to ruin the mood. Are you sure he’s even still here?” Darren glances around at all the different people milling about. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Sweetie.” Chris throws his arm around Darren’s neck, and the inside of his elbow is warm and vaguely sticky with sweat. Darren shifts in closer and feels the tug at the spot where their skin meets. “When has he not been there for a make out scene?”

Darren thinks about it for a moment. “That’s kind of unsettling.”


{Part three, in which Darren sets things straight about being kind of gay.}




So Darren's been thinking about what Chris said and it's making him sad. Not the part about waiting for the right person. That part was awesome, because more people should be aware that they're worth that much. No. He's been thinking about how Chris implied it was a pity thing.

Darren's not stupid. He may have been taken aback and insta-shamed at the suggestion, but now that he's thought about it... Chris is so wrong.

He's not sure how anyone could pity Chris, but he is sure that he doesn't. The whole concept of pity sex is just gross. Darren hadn't been after that. It was more like... like he was throwing his hat in the ring or whatever that metaphor was. Not even for sex at first. Just dating. 'Cause people with standards like Chris don’t do one-night stands anyway. He’d been auditioning for a spot on Chris’s radar and gotten shut down 'cause of prior experience with boobs. Just because he doesn’t want anyone else's dick doesn't mean he's not totally down with Chris’s.

And he's slow danced with Chris, flat chest to flat chest. Had his toes stepped on by Chris’s giant llama feet. Seen his package wrapped in some awfully tight designer jeans. He’s perfectly aware that Chris has a dick. And is a guy. Who is taller than him. Who gets sweaty inner-elbows and then slings them around Darren's neck like that's not going to make him think of all the other bits of Chris’s skin that might be sweaty and how they'd feel against all the parts of Darren that are totally getting sweaty right now okay he needs to stop.

Darren needs to convince Chris that he was wrong and to give Darren a chance. He runs a contemplative finger down one of his earlobes and does a discreet pit-sniff. Okay. Maybe not the best-smelling thing ever, but there's still a vague suggestion of his deodorant there and he detects nary a hint of rotten citrus.

Operation Ask Chris Out on a Real Date (and Hope He Doesn’t Laugh in Darren’s Face) is a go.

Darren is panting into his cupped palm and trying to figure out if his breath smells like anything at all when Chris rounds the corner on his way to his trailer.

“Hey... um.” Chris slows his stride when he sees Darren, who immediately drops his hand. “Whatcha doooin’?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.” Chris shoots him a suspicious side-eye glance when Darren falls in step beside him.

“So I need to tell you something,” Darren says in what he hopes is a friendly, nothing-wrong-here manner. Chris’s jaw tenses beneath his skin. “It’s not bad or anything.”

“Okay.”

"So I'm really sorry if this is just me not getting a clue, but I need to know if you turned me down for the right reasons."

Chris stops mid-stride and blinks at him.

"I totally get it if you're not into me like that," Darren says, turning to face him directly. He takes a deep breath and tries to think back to how he'd said it in his mind only a little while before. "I just want you to know that I am intimately acquainted with the idea of your dick." Well shit.

Chris sucks a quick breath in and then chokes on in.

"No! Not, okay, not like that," Darren backpedals, smacking Chris firmly on the back. "But I know you're a guy and that's not something I'd have to work around, you know. That's a big part of what makes you awesome. Your guyness. Male-itude. Manliness. Also, I like kissing you."

"Darren stop talking," Chris hisses.

"No, hang on. I'm not trying to get in your pants. Not that I wouldn’t want to, or that I'm afraid of what's in your pants. But if you'd like to go on a date with me to see if we could maybe keep going on dates I would like that a lot. Can you breathe?"

"Almost," Chris grinds out.

"Okay. I'm going to leave now before this gets any more awkward and I start talking about your dick again."

"Too late," Chris says from behind the hands he just slapped across his reddening face.

"Oh my god," Darren says, spinning around and walking away as quickly as possible.


{Part four, in which bad things happen to Darren’s ass and then they hold hands.}




Turns out Chris is still talking to Darren. This is wonderful, if slightly surprising, but Darren's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They even have a date.

Okay, maybe not like, a date date. But he's on his way to Chris’s apartment and when he gets there they're going to go over the new script together and they'll be unsupervised and Chris hasn't actually said he doesn't want to date him, so Darren's definitely putting it in the win column of his overall plan.

He gets to Chris’s door about twenty three minutes before he said he'd be there. He's unsure if he should wait creepily in the hall until a reasonable amount of time has passed or if he should just let Chris know he arrived inappropriately early.

Maybe Chris isn't ready yet. Maybe he's in the shower and he'll have to answer the door in a towel looking all disheveled with water dripping down his chest and beading on his collar bones. And then he'll leave Darren to wait awkwardly in the living room while he goes back to the bedroom and gets naked before putting on clothes and coming back in all damp and wonderful.

Darren licks his lips.

He's just about to knock when the door swings open inward. Chris already has an eyebrow raised. "Weren't you going to knock?"

"I was... thinking about it," Darren says awkwardly.

Chris, who isn't even a little bit damp, lifts his eyebrow even higher and steps back, allowing Darren inside.

"So," Darren says, shoving his hands in his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Nice place."

"You've been here before," Chris points out, padding quickly down the short hall into his office and reemerging with the script.


Darren nods. He has. He eyes one of the three pyramids of empty diet coke and beer cans on the counter of the kitchenette. He's pretty sure some of those cans were his from the impromptu cast part two Saturdays before.

"Are those like, glued there?"

"Hmm?" Chris looks up from his script, following Darren's gaze. "Oh, no. I just never got around to recycling them. They've kind of grown on me."

Darren nods. "Adds character."

Chris smiles. "Plus I just have an odd affinity for diet coke."

"Never would have guessed." Darren says, pointedly not looking at the crumpled can on the coffee table. It's resting on its side, run through by a gleaming sai sword.

"Did you bring your script?" Chris asks, sinking down into the couch and gesturing for Darren to sit wherever.

"Um, no." Darren says, blushing slightly and patting his back pockets. "I was kind of in a hurry."

"To get here twenty minutes early?"

"I was in a hurry to do... something else. But then I realized I didn't have enough time. So I came here."

"And didn't knock."

"I was so going to knock."

"Whatever, weirdo. Come sit. Some of this dialogue is insane. I don't know why they insist on giving Kurt the most long-winded insults ever invented."

Darren shuffles over to Chris and inches as close as he dares before flopping down onto the couch. "FUCK!" He flails off the couch and grabs his ass.

“What the hell?” Chris asks, startling back against the side of the couch and looking at Darren with wide eyes.

“Your sofa just bit me!”

“What are you talking about?”

“It bit my ass, I swear to god!”

Chris drags his eyes from Darren to the couch and goes to stick his hand in between the cushions.

“NO!”

“What?”

“What if it’s like… a spider. Or something.” Darren’s nostrils flare in fear. “Poisonous.”

Chris stares at him.

“What if my ass falls off?” Darren asks in a small voice.

Without taking his eyes off Darren, Chris stuffs his hand in between the cushions and tugs a sai sword out a moment later. He holds it out so Darren can see it. “Poisonous.” He deadpans. “Spider.” Chris has what is possibly the best ‘judging you’ face that ever existed. Darren swallows. Possibly the best face period. But he’s still looking at him funny.

“Why was that even in there?” Darren whines, settling his unaffected buttock on the edge of the couch gingerly.

“Why did you sit on the crack?” Chris retorts, clunking the sai down beside its coke-can skewering mate on the coffee table. “You pick a cushion and sit on that cushion. Don’t straddle the cushion crack unless there’s no other option. Basic sofa etiquette.”

“I was sitting close so we could read together,” Darren explains, looking up at Chris from beneath his lashes.

Chris takes a breath to say something but then his lips seal up together before parting almost imperceptibly in the middle, leaving a small, hollow space Darren wants to press his thumb against. He’s maybe a little preoccupied with Chris’s lips. It takes him a while before he realizes he should check the rest of Chris out, see what he’s doing as a whole.

Turns out he’s staring intently at Darren. “You…” He says softly, trailing off and starting again. “You genuinely want to…?”

“Kiss you,” Darren fills in the blank. “Like all the time now, you have no idea. And I want to touch your arms. I like the insides of your elbows and holding your wrists and I like dancing with you.” He licks his lips and figures he should put in some non-physical things so Chris doesn’t just think he’s a pervert. “I love your voice and I love to laugh at your jokes and watch your lips move when you say things. I like watching your hands when you’re acting and your neck when you swallow.” He’s sort delving back into pervdom now. He can’t really help it. “I like-mmph-”

“Shush. Just- just be quiet for a second,” Chris says, pressing two fingers to Darren’s lips. “I believe you.”

“Mm gmmd,” Darren says against the fingers, sighing and slumping slightly in relief.

“We’re gonna work on our lines now, okay?” Chris says, shifting the pads of his fingers slightly against Darren’s lips, “And then we’re gonna order Chinese food.” Darren wrinkles his nose, “Or Mexican, or whatever. And then we’re gonna watch a movie, okay? And we’ll see.”

“Smm whmmph?”

“Whether or not it’s a date,” Chris says, finally withdrawing his hand.

“It’s totally gonna be a date!” Darren says excitedly, scooting fully onto the couch, once more hogging the cushion crack. “Do I get a goodnight kiss when it’s over?” he asks.

“Probably not.” Chris tells him.

“Can I hold your hand?”

“How will we turn the pages?”

“You hold, I’ll turn.”


{Part five, in which this is definitely the second date.}




“Wanna go out tonight?” Darren asks, walking backwards so he can face Chris as they head towards base camp.

He looks genuinely regretful when he winces. “I really would, but I’m beyond tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh. Okay.” Darren spins and starts walking correctly before he runs someone over. “Um… You wanna stay in tonight?”

“Darren-” Chris huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes, stopping at his trailer.

“The second you fall asleep, I’ll leave. I won’t even stare at you. That much. Promise.”

“You’re kind of really weird,” Chris tells him, stepping up to the threshold and leaning down to press a kiss to Darren’s forehead. Darren grins up at him and Chris shoos him away. “My place, an hour.”

“I’ll bring food.”

“I don’t need food. I’m out of diet coke.”

“Caffeine free.” Darren waggles a finger at him.

“Gross.”

***

Darren arrives at Chris’s apartment with a case of soda and an enormous pizza with over seven different types of meat on it. He knocks by banging the diet coke against the door a couple times.

“Yo.” He smiles when Chris lets him in.

“Sup homeskillet?” Chris replies, quickly grabbing the soda from him and plunking it on the coffee table. He digs a can out and starts guzzling it before Darren can even close the door.

“Wow.”

“Have a seat.” Chris says, after a big sigh and a discreet burp. He smiles at Darren and flicks his wet bangs out of his face.

“You’re all damp.” Darren says.

"Showers’ll do that to a person," Chris points out. Darren looks at the gooseflesh on Chris’s collarbone for a moment, exposed by the stretched-out collar of the old Superman t-shirt he's wearing.

"Yeah," He says.

"Are you alright?" Chris asks, leaning down to put his eyes in line with Darren's gaze.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. You hungry? I got all the different types of meat they had. And they had lots of meat."

"Yay meat," Chris drawls, getting up to fetch a couple of plates. "So, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know." Darren sniffs, scratching at his nose and looking around until his eyes land on the entertainment center. "Movie?"

"Kay," Chris agrees easily enough. "Genre?"

"Disney."

"Classic?"

"Modern."

"Thank god. I don't think I could handle Snow White right now. Help yourself," Chris waves vaguely towards the dvd case. "You want ice?"

"Yeah," Darren replies distractedly, already on his hands and knees, inspecting the titles available.

***

"This is nice." Chris says sleepily, his head resting on Darren's shoulder. The light from the television turns his face a pale, fragile blue.

"I have to agree." Darren runs his fingers lightly up Chris’s arm.

"I'm glad you decided to date me."

"So this is definitely a date, then?" Darren asks, unable to keep a grin from spreading across his face.

Chris snuggles closer to Darren's side and nods, not saying anything.

"Is the last time officially a date, too?" Darren can't help but ask.

"Mmm," Chris vocalizes, moving his head up and down and smooshing his cheek against Darren's shoulder.

"You know what that means," Darren whispers, turning until he's speaking into Chris’s hair.

"Mmm?"

"Means next time I definitely get a kiss goodnight."

"Defnntly," Chris agrees, arching his back and wriggling down further into Darren and the couch. "Thnk 'm fallin' 'sleep."

"I think so, too," Darren breathes, maneuvering them both until Chris is leaning against the side of the couch and Darren’s kneeling beside it. He stares for a moment, brushing Chris’s hair back from his forehead before wandering into his bedroom to grab the duvet from the bed.

He leaves once he’s covered Chris up and turned the movie off, putting the pizza and a few cans of coke in the fridge.


{Part six, in which half a lunch break in a trailer most definitely counts as a date}




“Knock knock,” Darren says, peering around the edge of the doorway into the trailer.

“Hello.” Chris shoots him a shy smile from where he’s curled up with his laptop on the couch. He shifts his legs out from under him and stretches into a seated position. “I didn’t think you were on set today.”

“I’m not shooting. I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah really. Also, I brought you a cookie.” Darren climbs up the steps and holds out an over-large chocolate chip cookie for Chris to take.

“I’ve had my suspicions before, but now I’m almost certain you’re trying to fatten me up for something,” Chris says, even as he breaks a chunk off and pops it in his mouth.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Darren smiles softly and lowers himself onto the cushion next to Chris. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Really well, actually. Thank you for, you know, tucking me in, I guess.”

When Darren looks over Chris is blushing. “It wasn’t exactly a hardship. Having you fall asleep on me.” Darren rhythmically knocks his knee into Chris’s. “It was kinda nice, actually.”

“Are we really doing this?” Chris asks, apropos of nothing and with all the usual strength behind his voice gone.

Darren’s not actually surprised by the question. He stops swinging his knee back and forth and simply holds it against Chris’s, the warmth of him bleeding through the fabric of their jeans. “Only as long as you want to,” he says, switching the cookie to his right hand and settling his left on his thigh with the palm up, an invitation.

“I’ve been trying to think,” Chris says, tracing the lines in Darren’s palm with the pad of his finger. “All this morning and yesterday and this whole week. I’ve been trying to figure out your motivation and nothing fits. Except you being sincere, and even that is just so, so hard to believe.” He rests his hand flat on Darren’s suddenly, without locking their fingers together. “And what does that say about me? What kind of jackass tries to prove the worst about the nicest people?”

Darren takes a breath and holds it.

“I just don’t understand this,” Chris continues, tapping randomly at the hand beneath his own. “I don’t know what you want or why you want it. I don’t know why I’m being so stupid. I’ve got this wonderful, gorgeous guy basically throwing himself at me and I haven’t even kissed him yet. I could finally have what I’ve wanted for so long and I’m not even taking it because I’m afraid it’ll hurt me.”

Darren curls his fingers up and works them in between Chris’s. He wants to say so many different things. What he starts with is this, “I never had, like, a big sexual freak-out.” He licks his lips. “When I realized I wanted you. It was just… I’ve always known what I wanted and been fine with it, and then one day I realized what I wanted was you. It just happened. So first off, you’re not like, a phase. You’re a person. And I like you. I really don’t want to hurt you. Definitely not in my plan. ”

“You have a plan?”

Darren nods. “Big plan. Borderline epic. I’ve outlined all the stages on a list.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s written on a scroll.”

“Oh I see.”

“Papyrus, of course.”

“Of course.” Chris laughs and brings his free hand up to scrub at his face.

“Speaking of which,” Darren carries on, his tone lighter, “I brought you food, and we had a big heart-to-heart.”

“Okay?”

“This definitely counts as the third date, which is an essential step in my plan.”

“Way to bring it on home, Darren.” Chris says, but he’s laughing.

“You know what that means?” Darren says, grinning, turning to face Chris for the first time in a while.

“Hmm?”

“You made me a promise.”

“Did I?”

Darren nods and leans in close, closer, until he’s practically smiling against the shell of Chris’s ear. “You promised me a kiss after our third date.” His breath stirs small tufts of Chris’s short hair.

“I think you’ll find I was under the influence of Disney, sleep deprivation, and decaffeinated coca cola products. I can’t be held accountable for my actions,” Chris whispers, letting go of Darren’s hand and grabbing his right wrist instead, tugging it up until Darren is turned all the way towards him and he’s got his hand held flat over Chris’s racing heart.

“Those weren’t actions. Those were words.” Darren tilts his head to get a better angle. “I can show you the difference.”

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Chris breathes, smiling, and then Darren kisses him.

He keeps it light, just lips against lips, Chris and Darren for the first time without Kurt or Blaine or anything between them. And then Chris draws back slightly with a soft smack and hums a low laugh. “I can show you the difference.” He closes his eyes and snorts and Darren takes it as a challenge.

Their second kiss is pretty spectacular. It starts with Darren trying to lick his way past Chris’s teeth to get to the throaty chuckle behind them and then Chris loses the laugh but not the smile when he draws Darren’s lower lip between his teeth and sucks on it. God.

Darren reels back and slides his hand up past Chris’s collarbone to wrap around the back of his neck. “I really love kissing you.”

Chris looks at him, unimpressed. “You interrupted us to tell me that?”

Darren looks at Chris and his wet, red lips. “A flaw,” he acknowledges. “I blame you. You’re disorienting.”

“I don’t understand why you aren’t kissing me right now.”

“I am kissing you.”

“With your mind, or wha-mmm.”


{Part seven, in which kissing is nice but Chris has this ass, you see, and Darren wants to touch it.}




They’re at Chris’s again, since going out isn’t really an option if they don’t want to get accosted, and Darren’s place just isn’t as nice. Or as clean. They’ve been sitting on the couch a while, Darren sipping on a beer and Chris making his way through a few diet Cokes. Their conversation has been winding around topics like Harry Potter and musical theater and the Ninja Turtles for a while and it’s only just tapered off into a comfortable silence.

“Hey,” Darren says, breaking the quiet. Chris lets his lips slide off the top of the can and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna make out?”

Chris is startled into a snorting sort of laugh and fumbles his can onto the coffee table while fanning his face. “It went up my nose!” He hisses in a strangled voice, laughter still bubbling through.

“I’m so sorry!” Darren exclaims, sliding closer to him and patting him firmly on the back.

“I’m not choking,” Chris says once he’s gotten himself under control. “I might be dying, but that’s mostly from embarrassment.”

“Aw.” Darren grins and pats him one last time, leaving his hand there to rub slowly at Chris’s warm shoulders.

Chris wipes at the tears that had escaped to slip down his reddened cheeks and scrunches his nose up. “Still wanna make out?” he asks, clearly going for sarcasm.

“Totally,” Darren answers, watching Chris long enough to see the startled look on his face before moving in and pressing their lips together.

Chris gasps into his mouth. It’s pretty awesome. Darren bites at his lips and tries to make him do it again.

They part after a while, because Darren keeps forgetting to breathe through his nose often enough and he’s a little light headed. Chris’s eyes are half-lidded and still red-rimmed from the coke incident. His cheeks are flushed and shining slightly from the earlier tears, but they’re nothing compared to his slack, glistening lips. His whole face looks raw and gorgeous and Darren kind of can’t handle it. “I wanna kiss you some more.”

“’Kay,” Chris sighs, and then flails a little when Darren slides his arms under his thighs and lifts him over until he’s got one knee on either side of Darren’s hips.

“This good?” Darren asks, breathing heavily. Chris nods and tucks his hands around the back of Darren’s neck, curling his fingers into the close-cropped hair there before kissing him, open mouthed and fearless. He whines a little, when Darren slides his hands down to take hold of his ass, firm and perfect beneath the stretched-tight denim of his dark blue jeans. Darren grins into the kiss and kneads the flesh beneath his fingers, making Chris moan and buck forward. “Oh my god,” Darren groans, dragging kisses down Chris’s jaw. “Tell me if this isn’t okay,” he pants, squeezing Chris’s ass again and tugging him closer.

“It’s okay,” Chris whispers, arching his neck, “very, very okay.” His breath hitches when Darren pulls him even closer, crushing them together and shuddering up against Chris before he can stop himself. Chris cries out and pitches forward, hugging Darren’s neck and shoulders and rolling his hips down into Darren’s lap. “Again,” he urges, dragging his lips from the side of Darren’s neck around to his jaw and up to his lips.

“You’re-”

More,” he insists, eyes clamped shut and breaths ragged.

Darren pulls away, the movement causing Chris to open his eyes, questioning, maybe a little scared. “I know I kind of grabbed your ass without permission, but I don’t actually want to push you in to anything you’re not okay with,” he says, going for earnest but probably only hitting breathless and horny.

Swallowing, Chris reaches back and pulls one of Darren’s hands away from his ass, only to press it hard against the bulge in the front of his jeans. “Jesus,” Darren exclaims, his voice thin and high, cupping Chris’s dick through his pants and then rubbing his knuckles and his thumb down the length of it. Chris whines and the muscles in his stomach flutter obviously as he grinds against Darren’s hand.

Darren rolls, tossing Chris against the arm of the couch and crawling over him, straddling one of his thighs and pushing the heel of his hand against Chris’s dick, pressing, rhythmic and hard, through his too-tight jeans. Their breaths rush heavy and rough in between them, curling into the air and making it hot and wet perfect. Darren doesn’t tear his eyes away from Chris’s until he keens, sweet and gasping, “Kiss me.” Darren does. Of course he does.

Chris moans into the kiss, a continuous sound that ebbs and grows along with the pressure on his dick. Darren isn’t sure how he can handle it, it must be agony confined within those stupidly tight jeans. He’s about to suggest unzipping them at least when Chris pulls his head away with a gasp, his eyes rolling back and his whole body stiffening. He grunts out a few high, fragile huh sounds and clutches at Darren’s arms, hips bucking sharply against Darren’s hand.

Fuck, Chris,” Darren practically sobs, surging forward to capture his lips again as Chris rides his orgasm out against Darren’s shaking palm.

“Fuck you,” Chris laughs, watery and unsteady as the back of his head thunks against the couch. “I just came in my pants.”

“I know.” Darren grins. “It was awesome.”

Chris looks at him and nods, half-way to shy. “Almost too awesome to be embarrassing.”

“It was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen,” Darren tells him truthfully, and the thought of it makes his cock twitch against Chris’s thigh. “Shit, sorry.” He starts to back off but before he can get anywhere Chris is twisting his thigh up to rub against him. “Oh god, Chris, you-”

“My turn,” Chris breathes, flattening his palms against Darren’s chest and pushing him backwards easily.

Darren flops back on the couch, straightening his legs out along the length of it as Chris falls on top of him, sucking kisses into the side of his neck and pushing one thigh in between Darren’s for him to rock up against. Which he does. Enthusiastically.

“I think,” Chris says, kissing his way to Darren’s throat and into the hollow between his clavicles, “We should take your shirt off.”

Darren thinks that’s an excellent idea. “Yeah,” he says stupidly, rolling his hips up helplessly and nodding. And then he thinks of something even better. “You too,” he insists, plucking at the back of Chris’s shirt. “And pants. Clothes, all of them.” Darren squeezes his eyes shut and makes a grand shooing motion with his hands. “Gone.”

“You’re suggesting nakedness,” Chris observes, still pressing kisses against all the available skin he can, and Darren moans his agreement. “I approve; I’m very sticky.” He pushes himself up with an elbow pressing into the cushion next to Darren’s head and a forearm resting across his chest. “I think we should go to bed.”

For one less than stellar moment Darren is terrified that Chris means they should stop and go to sleep. He must make a sound or something, because Chris rolls his eyes and kisses him quickly on the lips. “I just want more room to roll around. And I’m getting hard again and I want to actually have sex on my bed at some point in my life. Why not now?” He licks his lower lip and lazily ruts against Darren.

Darren gets sort of caught up in the fact that Chris is apparently the Energizer Bunny and lifts his hips up, searching. Sure enough, there’s a hardness where there wasn’t just a minute ago. “You’re unbelievable,” he tells him, grabbing his hips and rolling them over so they can get up.

“I’m a 21 year-old semi-virgin, what did you expect?” Chris asks, his eyes bright and his cheeks red and his smile in full force.

“By now?” Darren drags his fingers down Chris’s chest and steps into his personal space, smiling and kissing him before turning him around to face the hallway. “More nudity.”


{Part eight, in which Chris’s semi-virginity is lost with dignity and grace, (lol).}




“Okay, Naked Rules,” Chris says, as soon as Darren steps across the bedroom threshold.

“Naked rules?” Chris spins around to face him as Darren hastily shoves his shirt back down and tries to pretend he wasn’t getting ahead of himself.

“Yes. I’m not saying you were gonna, but no laughing, and no fat jokes,” Chris says, perfectly serious.

Darren laughs. “Fat jokes, really?”

“You’re laughing,” Chris points out.

“We’re not naked.”

“Still.”

“Sorry,” Darren says, stepping forward to kiss his cheek. “Can we change it to no laughing at each other? ‘Cause we’re definitely going to laugh at some point.”

“Okay,” Chris relents, dropping his head to the side as Darren moves his lips from Chris’s cheek to his neck. “Any-ah, anything else you want to add?”

“To be honest all I can think of now are fat jokes,” Darren smirks, biting down on Chris’s neck before he can push him too far away. “Can I take off your clothes?” he asks, whispering into Chris’s skin.

“Yeah,” Chris sighs.

Darren pushes his hands up underneath Chris’s shirt, splaying his fingers across his back and working the soft material upwards. Chris raises his hands and allows Darren to pull the shirt over his head and off his arms, dropping it on the floor. He skates his fingers down Chris’s sides, feeling him wiggle slightly at the contact. He barely gets a peek at Chris’s pale torso before his own shirt is being pushed up his chest and tugged off.

Chris just stares at him for a little while, which Darren doesn’t mind because that leaves him time to stare back, and Chris is fucking stunning. He looks amazing, if slightly uncomfortable, with his wide shoulders, thick arms and tight waist, all subtly muscled but looking soft enough to sink his fingers into. He’s got really fine, light brown hair in sort of a diamond on his chest, and it trails down his milky white skin, thickening near the waistband of his jeans. Darren wants to touch it, but before he can Chris wriggles and shifts uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong?” Darren asks, voice soft.

“Not to ruin our beautiful moment,” Chris says with a grimace and a squirm. “But I’m afraid my underwear might be stuck to my pubes and I’m going to take my pants off by myself, kay?”

Darren covers up his grin with one of his hands and nods enthusiastically. Chris just points a finger and slides it up and down, indicating Darren as a whole. “You, too.”

“Yes sir. I like the bossiness,” Darren tells him, unbuttoning his pants and shucking them down his legs. “I think it might become a thing.” He hops around a little before he can get his left foot past the cuff, but finally falls triumphantly into a seated position on the bed, socks and boxers still on. Chris has opted to wiggle out of both his jeans and his underwear at the same time, and they come of relatively easily once the first few delicate inches are navigated. Darren licks his lips, shoving his boxers off and down his legs, pushing his socks off as well. Chris has a really nice cock. It’s thick and heavy and red, bobbing half-hard against his thighs. “Oh, hey.” Darren springs up. “Naked hug!” He steps forward and opens his arms.

Chris, who had been nervously looking around for something to stare at besides Darren’s cock, steps between them gratefully and then gasps at the contact. “Oh,” he whispers as Darren pulls him close.

Darren closes his eyes and sighs, sweeping one hand down the length of Chris’s back and using the other to sneak down and flip both their cocks up until they’re trapped between their lower abdomens, rubbing against each other. Chris shudders and pushes into the sensation, rocking his hips back and forth. “Yeah,” Darren breathes, turning his head to lick into Chris’s mouth.

Bed,” Chris moans around the kiss, grabbing Darren’s shoulders and pulling him back until they tumble onto the bed covers.

“This is gonna be so awesome.” Darren grins, ducking his head down and running his tongue and teeth over Chris’s throat and down to his chest.

“You better not have jinxed us,” Chris warns, gasping and arching into his mouth. He curls his fingers into Darren’s hair and holds on while Darren steadily works his way down to Chris’s straining, red-flushed cock, “Oh god.”

He whimpers when Darren licks the tip, and sucks in a complicated series of hitched breaths when Darren takes as much of him as he can into his mouth. Darren hollows his cheeks and trails his lips up and down Chris’s cock, listening to the other boy’s moans happily.

He’s really getting into it when Chris taps him sloppily on the shoulder, letting go of his hair and curling his fingers behind Darren’s ear with the other hand. “Wait, st-mmm, stop, come here.”

“What’s wrong?” Darren asks once he’s released Chris’s cock, sliding up at his urging to settle next to him.

“Nothing,” Chris assures him, slightly breathless, before running his fingers over Darren’s chest and downwards. “But it’s your turn, for a little while.”

“You are my turn,” Darren says, and then gasps when Chris curls his fingers around him and pumps.

“What does than even mean?” Chris asks, smirking.

“I don’t-” Darren pants and fucks his hips up, throwing his head back. “Oh god I have no idea.”

Chris laughs and presses a kiss to his neck.

“Naked rule!” Darren grunts out.

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“Forgive me,” Chris whispers, twisting his hand just right and swiping his thumb across the slit, spreading the moisture there further down with each stroke.

Anything.” Darren manages around a groan, twisting his fingers into the duvet before realizing he’s perfectly capable of winding those fingers around Chris’s dick. So he does.

“Oooh shit. Need, um, god you’re distracting, need something.” Chris mutters, switching hands quickly and rolling over onto his back to rummage through a drawer in his bedside table. “Ha!” He cries, holding a light blue tube aloft as though it were Excalibur. Darren grins, letting go of Chris and holding his hand out, palm up. Chris unscrews the cap and pauses with the lube poised over Darren’s hand. “I thought, maybe, you could use it on me?”

Darren starts to give him a duh face before he catches on and he feels his eyes bug out slightly. “Like…” he trails off and lets his eyes wander down, “Seriously? Are you sure?”

Chris nods quickly, squeezing some of the creamy substance onto Darren’s slack fingers. “Just, just your fingers, right now,” he murmurs, adding hastily, “Only if you want to. I want… I just want to know what it feels like.”

Darren kisses the hesitation off his lips and then slithers lower, sliding his clean hand down Chris’s body as he goes. He gives Chris’s cock a welcome back lick, causing it to twitch up and smack him in the cheek. “Even your dick is bossy, man,” Darren marvels, rubbing the lube between his fingers to warm it up. He trails his index finger in careful swirls down, over Chris’s balls and behind them, until he’s circling the small, puckered ring of flesh there and watching Chris’s pale stomach flutter at the sensation. “I think,” Darren says with a voice rough, “I think I forgot to tell you how gorgeous you are.”

“Now is not the time for words,” Chris says, his voice high and straining. “Now is the time for your fingers up my ass.”

“Jeeze.” Darren smiles, slowly sliding a finger in and watching Chris hold his breath. “Learn how to take a compliment.”

“Darren. Darren, sweetheart.” Chris reaches down and pets Darren’s hair, ignoring the way his own body shudders with sensation. “You have a lovely mouth. Maybe you should use it for something other than talking for a while?”

Darren buries his laugh in Chris’s thigh, and then presses an apologetic kiss to the red mark his stubble leaves. One kiss turns into many, leading up to Chris’s balls, which he sucks in quickly, one at a time, before nuzzling up to his thick, rosy cock, all the while working one finger in and out, crooking it slightly every-so-often.

He’s working his lips up and down Chris’s cock, trailing spit and pre-cum like a pornstar, when Chris bites his lips and pulls his knees up. “More,” he says; begs, really. “One more. Please.”

Darren gives him a lick and pushes another finger in alongside the first, curling them up inside and twisting them around, pressing his free hand down on Chris’s hip to hold him to the bed.

“JESUS!” Chris shouts, bucking up and slamming back down onto Darren’s fingers. “Fuck, please, Dare, please.”

“What?” Darren asks, pressing a soothing kiss to Chris’s stomach, still curling those two fingers, coaxing him gently. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to- please let me,” he pants, fingers catching in Darren’s hair and scraping satisfyingly across his scalp. “Dare, please.”

“You can,” Darren murmurs in between kisses, letting go of Chris’s hip and jacking him slowly, “Come on, Chris. Chris.”

Chris goes tense for one still moment before arching his back and crying out, sucking in quick little breaths and puffing them out just as fast. He spills all over his stomach and Darren’s hand, bucking up in short, hard jerks, making slight, fading whimpering sounds as Darren milks the last of it from him.

God,” Darren exclaims, releasing Chris’s cock and pushing through the mess on his stomach with shaking fingers.

“Mmm,” Chris moans, tugging weakly at his arms, “Up. Kiss me, up here.”

Darren slides his fingers out, prompting a gasp, and scrambles up, throwing a leg across Chris’s messy torso and leaning down to kiss his pliant lips. “You’re so fucking hot,” Darren murmurs into the kiss, shoving his cock against Chris’s soft, slick stomach. Darren bites and sucks at Chris’s lips, and Chris reaches up one sluggish hand to wrap around Darren’s cock, letting Darren arch back and fuck into his grasp.

Darren loses it when Chris meets his eyes, a lazy smile creeping across his swollen lips. “Hello there.”

“Shit, shit.”

He comes hard, stripes of white splashing over Chris’s chest and up to his neck, glistening in the hollow of his throat. Darren lets out a shaky breath and melts off of Chris, flopping to the mattress beside him and burrowing in close, settling his open lips against Chris’s jaw, occasionally sucking out a leisurely kiss.

Chris pets a hand down Darren’s sweaty back and scratches his fingers through the mess across his chest. “I think…” he begins slowly, and Darren leans back to watch his lips move. “I think I need a shower.”

“Mmm,’ Darren whines in protest. “You should just stay here.”

“Easy for you to say, you aren’t the one who got jizzed on three times.”

“True,” Darren acknowledges, grinning.

“We should both shower, ‘cause you were totally sitting in it,” Chris points out.

“Together?”

“Sure,” Chris agrees easily, sitting up with a groan.



{Part nine, basically the epilogue, in which things come full circle.}




Darren leaves the shower first because Chris doesn’t appreciate it when his Elvis impersonations fling shampoo in his eyes, and Darren takes the opportunity to order them a late dinner. He takes the opportunity to order them food.

They’re sitting on the sofa in their towels eating in companionable silence when Chris looks down at his dinner contemplatively.

“What’s wrong?” Darren asks, trying to pay attention to Chris’s face but getting distracted by the water beaded on his collarbone. “Too spicy? Too bland?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just appreciating the irony,” Chris assures him.

“Is it irony, irony, or just, like, ten thousand spoons irony?”

“My first meal after losing my gay virginity is tacos,” Chris states calmly.

“Oh. Actual irony. I can dig it.” Darren nods, looking down at his own tacos. “So, uh, question for you.”

“Shoot,” Chris says, licking sauce from his hand.

“What did it feel like to have fingers up your ass?” Darren asks.

Chris considers it. “Weird. Good. But just… really, really weird. Like I wanted them there, but I wanted them out, but I felt empty when they were gone so I wanted them again. There was no in-between, no just-right.”

“Huh,” Darren says thoughtfully.

“But then, like, prostate, and I was, like, gone.”

“Yeah?” Darren asks with a grin, even though he’d been there and definitely seen it.

“Yes.” Chris nods, answering his grin with a quick peck on the lips.

“Maybe next time you could show me.”

Chris looks over at him, a small smile playing around his lips. “Next time?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, if you want.” Darren watches curiously as Chris sets his Styrofoam container down on the coffee table next to his mostly empty can of diet coke and turns to face him completely. “Chris?”

Chris gives him one last beaming smile, Darren even catches a glint of teeth, before he pounces.

***

Needless to say, they forget about their tacos.



{End}

Tags: authors/artists: b, media: fanfic, media: rpf, rating: nc-17
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