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It’s not a sex thing. Sex, in fact, is just about the farthest thing from Chris’ mind. (He’s far too busy focusing on an intense round of Angry Birds to be thinking about that, thank you very much.) What it is is a training tool, a method Chris uses when Darren gets in one of those moods. The kind where he is all sunshine and smiles and bouncing around with far more energy than should be humanly possible. It’s too much to stomach, particularly when they’d had such an ungodly early call time that morning.
He’s very fond of Darren. He is. But sometimes Chris’ co-star and sort-of-lover just needs to calm the fuck down. Now is most definitely one of those times. Somehow, sitting on Darren’s chest until he can be still seems like a good way to handle it.
Darren disagrees.
“Can I get up yet?”
“No.”“But I’ve been good for five whole
minutes
,” he whines, trying to wiggle out from underneath the giant hunk of boy on top of him. (‘
Man
,’ he knows Chris would say if he could read minds - and, sometimes, Darren sort of thinks he can. It’s creepy. Chris is probably an alien. ‘
I am twenty-one years old, Darren. I am a man
.’
)
Chris ignores him. After deliberating for a moment how much trouble he would potentially get into if he tried smothering his evil co-star/pseudo-boyfriend with a pillow, Darren decides to try a new tactic. “Okay, seriously man, I have to piss like a racehorse.”
“Do not.” Note the mind reading.
Definitely
an alien. “You peed ten minutes ago. I know because you felt announcing it before you went into the bathroom was one hundred percent necessary.” Okay, or that. “Your bladder cannot possibly have refilled itself already.”
Damn it
. Darren groans and flops his head back on the pillow, staring morosely up at the ceiling. He should have had more foresight. Or realized that as nice as Chris’ ass was, his heart was made of cold, black ice. “You hate me. You hate me and want to crush my spirit.”
“Nooo,” Chris corrects him, still mostly focusing on his game, frowning at it in frustration. Darren gets that. Those pigs were tricky fuckers. “I just want you to stop bouncing around my bedroom like a five year old all hyped up on Skittles.”
“What’s wrong with Skittles?” Darren has to take offense at that. “Are you a Skittles hater, Chris? Because I don’t know if I can see you anymore if that’s the case. It’s kind of a deal breaker.” He isn’t joking. People can’t just go around saying things like that about his favorite candy. “They taste like rainbows, Chris.
Rainbows
. How could you possibly hate them?”
“My feelings on candy,” Chris responds cooly, “are irrelevant. We’re not dating.”
“We kind of are. We get each other off and sometimes you let me cuddle after.”
“Because you whine if I don’t.”
“Shhhh!” Darren holds a finger up to Chris’ lips, shaking his head. “
Details
.”
“You’re crazy, you know that right?” Chris swats his hand away and returns his attention to his game. “Certifiably, even.”
Darren shrugs, nonchalant. “It’s part of my charm.”
The horrible truth is that he is not wrong.
Sensing a chink in his oppressor’s armor, Darren goes in for the kill. His lips curl up in a smooth grin, fingertips ghosting up Chris’ sides. “C’mon...” he coaxes, voice low pitched and seductive. “You have to admit you like me at least a little bit. How about you let me up and I can remind you why?”
Despite the comical attempt at come-hither eyebrow waggling, Chris is almost tempted. Darren brings the same gusto into the sack that he brings to every other challenge he approaches - anything he lacks in technical skill he more than makes up for with enthusiasm and a desire to please. Chris tilts his head and makes a contemplative hmm-ing noise. He sets his iPad aside and slides down Darren’s body, hovering over him. He leans in close and brushes their noses together, lips almost touching...
Then turns his head and licks Darren’s face, wet and sloppy and purposefully aggravating.
“What th- ack!” Darren sputters, face scrunching up in distaste. He leans as far away from Chris as he can while still pinned beneath him, fighting the grip on his wrists. “What the fuck! Let me go, I need to wipe your
unwanted saliva
off my face. Why would you
do
that?”
Chris grins, sitting up with a shrug. He’s far too pleased with himself. “I felt like it?”
Darren does not find this explanation satisfactory. “You
suck
,” he grouses. “Do you have any idea how many germs reside in the human mouth? I don’t want them on my
face
. If you’re going to put them anywhere it could at least be my dick. Not,” he adds, as Chris lifts his eyebrows, “that I’m saying I want a germy dick. I’m just saying - oh, shut the fuck up, you know what I mean.” Huff. “You’re mean today.”
“And you’re obnoxious.”
“Dude,” Darren feels forced to point out, brows lowered in a pointed frown, “I offered you sexual favors and you
licked
me. Not in a fun sex-kitten way, but like a giant, drooling
St. Bernard
! You have absolutely no room to judge.”
“Okaaay,” Chris concedes because, well, Darren
might
have a point. “Fine. We’re both obnoxious.”
“That’s more like it.” Darren grunts in return. “We even now?”
“I guess so.”
“So I can get up?”
“No.”
“Damn it, Chris!”
Chris bites his lip and giggles, unable to hold back his amusement at the disgruntled expression on Darren’s face. “Now you know how I’ve felt all day, trying to deal with your energizer bunny routine.”
Darren doesn’t find it funny. “You know, if you were smart you’d find a way to harness my excess energy and put it to good use,” he glowers. “Instead of
stifling my joy
.”
“Drama queen,” Chris rolls his eyes then chews his lip, thinking about it. “So you mean like housework?”
Ew. No. Darren’s nose crinkles in distaste.
Housework
, no thank you. “I was actually thinking more along the lines of blowjobs...?”
“Mm, nah.” Chris shakes his head. “My kitchen needs repainting and you’re only so-so at those anyway.”
Darren, naturally, is shocked and appalled by this
gross
misrepresentation of his fellatio capabilities. His mouth drops open, utterly aghast.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Everyone has areas where they can improve,” he gives Darren a sympathetic pat on the head. “I’m just being honest.”
“Honest my ass! You
love
my blowjobs. They are fucking
magical
.”
“Eh,” Chris waves a hand. “I’ve had better.”
“Like hell you have!” Darren uses the element of surprise to his advantage and makes a sudden push to flip them over. “Take it back.”
Chris makes no protest. Instead he grins, catlike and smug, as he rocks his hips up into Darren’s. “Make me.”
And, well, Darren has never been one to back down from a challenge.
The End.