Chris sat at his small desk, tapping on the wooden surface with his fingertips nervously, the forefinger of his other hand firmly in his mouth where his cuticles were obviously dying a painful death. The next section of the script - a tiny one, he noted dully, cursing the executives for putting Kurt in damn Homo Hogwarts, which meant he got to see his fellow, familiar, lovely New Directions co-actors rarely. Sure, they would hang out after working hours, and take long lunch breaks but he missed the feeling of singing with them and just... It sometimes felt like he was somewhere in limbo between the Garblers, as he not-too-affectionately dubbed them, and the old cast, the people who knew him better than anyone else. Oh well, there was no sense in killing his own mood even further, so he took another sip of the warm mulled wine that sat on the desktop - a small weakness of his, he supposed, wine was as adventurous as he got anyway, and it helped calm the nerves. Filming the 'Blackbird' scene had been very difficult: as of lately crying on demand had become a slight challenge and the 'longing looks across the room', as the writers had put it, that Darren had been giving him were even more nerve-wrecking than recording the damn song, to which he still thought he had done mediocre justice.
He rolled his eyes at Blaine's cheesy monologue that had been written down as soulful and sniggered: Darren himself could barely keep a straight - pardon the pun - face when he did his mentorship speeches, yet alone a semi-baked love confession. That hurt quite a bit, Chris thought, as his now closest friend was still having trouble playing gay for pay. It being frustrating enough as it was, Chris having slightly friendship-inappropriate dreams about his college, and the guy giggling every time was even more so.
Blaine leans over and kisses Kurt full on the mouth.
Nearly knocking over the cup, Chris struggled to breathe. Ryan had known full well about Chris's predicament, the young actor having had the misfortune of being caught staring. Well, everybody stared at Darren Criss - hello, it's Darren Criss, plus this eyebrows... were just so triangular. Had he been given the liberty of writing an original song, it would have been a sequel to 'Trouty Lips' that Naya had been laughing her ass off about a few days back - an ode entitled 'The Impossible Angle of Blaine Anderson's Eyebrows'. Anyway, staring at Darren was what people did but Chris just supposed that being gay as a picnic basket himself, Ryan had caught a whiff of the pheromones oozing off Chris or something. Anyway, he had known and... Well, pleasing the rabid fangirls came first, he guessed, otherwise they would have surrounded the studios with tumblr memes or whatever those things were called.
Kissing Darren Criss, well... It wasn't the worst of fates, Chris supposed, scanning over the next few lines briefly. Twice. Two times. Not on the cheek. Great. Wet dream material seemed to be in abundance this season.
A soft knock on his trailer door broke him out of his thoughts and he sighed, setting the script down and stretching into full height, his bones cracking slightly. It was well past being polite to drop in on someone and he strolled to the door to tell off the person that had dared...
"Oh, hi, Darren," he gasped out slightly, hoping his hands wouldn't stray to do something completely stupid, like fix his tortured hair or fidget with the hem of his shirt. Darren, being an actor with a freaking degree - seriously, though? - analyzed every move people made in real life to make his acting more believable and this... This was something that would raise his (triangular) eyebrows.
Clad only in a pair of ripped jeans and a tank-top that showed off his arms quite a bit, with his feet resting in comfortable beat-up Converses and his hair mussed, Darren Criss was...
"You look like shit," Darren laughed, giving Chris a cheeky look.
"Gee, thanks," Chris grumbled, standing back to let his co-worker pass into the tiny space. The door clicked softly after him and Darren turned to Chris, pointing a thumb - whoever pointed thumbs anymore? - at the script lying on the table:
"Yeah, just finished, actually," Chris answered, looking down. Hoping to busy himself, he took the now empty wine cup off the desk and placed it into the sink, turning the tap. Freezing water hit his hands and he hissed in displeasure. Darren seemed set on something as he practically squeezed himself between Chris and the nearby wall:
"So what d'you think?"
Chris let out a groan of annoyance and turned to look at the other man, giving him a look full of disdain:
"What am I supposed to think? I'm just an actor. The fangirls rule the world, right?" He asked, turning his attention back to the cup. Taking care not to let much of the cold water touch his skin, he rinsed it and placed it onto a hanging rack that he'd installed himself, given his love for drinking something and then washing the cup, taking another one if he wanted a second drink. He had seven cups all in all and he was happy with that. What he wasn't happy with was Darren Criss standing in his trailer and looking utterly delectable while trying to discuss a kiss between the two of them.
"I know that. I meant, how are we supposed to play his out?" Darren rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and ran a hand through the mess he called his hair. Nervous too, that's interesting, Chris mused.
"This isn't the part where you suggest practicing?" He asked with a grin, instantly regretting the words that had left his mouth. Damn the broken cortex to mouth filter. Maybe he needed to cut back on the wine.
Darren gave him a calculating look, as if wanting to say something snappy but then just dropped his arm at his side and shook his head:
"Of course not."
Chris turned his back to the sink and put his arms onto it, leaning back to look at his friend:
"So then what is it?"
Darren watched him, his head cocked to the side a bit, a small frown making a "V" on the otherwise unblemished forehead:
"Um, I just, um... Vnekiguy," he blurted out uncomfortably. Chris let out another awkward laugh and leaned forward a bit:
"Enunciation, sweetie. That's the key."
"I've never kissed a guy, okay?" Dared raised his voice. He looked at Chris exasperatedly and sighed in such a dramatic fashion, Chris was ready to hand him a hanky.
"And what am I supposed to do about it?" He asked bitingly, knowing his attitude was not going to help the sudden thickness of the air around them.
"I don't... Expect you to do anything. I just... Thought I should let you know?" Darren finished lamely, earning a face-palm from Chris:
"Dar, it's late, I'm tired, slightly tipsy and supposed to suck your face the day after tomorrow. What do you want?"
"Okay, okay, fine. It is the part where I suggest practicing. I mean, I don't want my first guy kiss to go under lights and with the camera rolling... I want to know what to do."
His hear missing a beat, Chris sighed tiredly:
"So ask auntie Ryan. I guarantee you he has gotten more action than me, despite his wearing berets all the time."
"But I'm kissing you anyway. I mean, wouldn't it be easier to get the feel... Of um, each other, you know?" Darren grinned stupidly, barely able to stand still. He had always doubted his preferences, so to speak, so testing the waters with Chris seemed like a much better option than going to an... establishment and then limping for a week and getting syphilis. "From a purely scientific point of view, you know? Like, acting. You know?"
"Yes, Darren. I know," Chris sighed exasperatedly. His co-star was giving him one hell of a headache. Just his luck, he supposed, for the guy he liked to turn out as a complete knob-head. Sitting down onto the hard chair beside his desk with Darren standing there uncomfortably in front of him, Chris raised his gaze to look at the older man: "Okay."
Darren's mind short-circuited as his eyes widened a little:
"Okay?" Just okay. Was it that simple or did Chris just not understand what a milestone it could potentially become for him. Growing up among theatre freaks and faeries alike, Darren had always identified as 'uh-yeah-um-I'm-straight', for none of them had ever captured his interest. Chris, on the other hand, was something else. The delicate yet completely strong way he held himself, giving a defiant answer to any question he was asked, his shyness mixing with lack of shame when among friends... In other words, hemoved Darren, and knowing more about his would be... nice. Knowing the taste of his lips would be... even better.
Chris gave his friend a slight nod, hoping they could just get on with it. Honestly, did Darren think they had all night? I wish, a voice purred in the back of Chris's mind and he pushed it aside, understanding that it was a long shot that Darren would even go through with it. The guy wore pink sunglasses, for chrissakes, and if that wasn't a sign of suppressed homosexuality, he didn't know what was.
Inching forward, Darren bent down slowly, giving his friend time to go back on his statement and just forget about it. Chris, ever the determined one, wasn't going to back down, not a chance. Instead, he sharply stood up, knocking his forehead against Darren's and eliciting a quiet 'ow' from the other man. Served him right for being a tease. Putting his hands on Darren's shoulders, Chris once again marveled at how different they were - he himself was taller and slightly more willowy, not graceful by any extent - treading on people's feet should be his university major - but he possessed a fragility that not many teenage boys could boast. Darren, on the other hand, was a couple of inches shorter, the difference between them made more prominent by his stockier, more muscular build. His arms were stronger, face undeniably masculine and the more than five o'clock shadow on his chin wanted Chris to get down on his knees right then and there.
The first brush of their lips was not unexpected, in fact, Chris could swear under oath that he'd heard Darren's breath hitch a fraction of a second before they touched. Closing his eyes, the younger man just went ahead with it - to hell with reservations. Their mouths moving together was a feeling more beautiful than any work of art - there were no fireworks, yet the simplicity of it all was what made him crave more. His confidence growing, Darren pressed forward a bit more forcefully and slipped his tongue into his partner's willing mouth. Yep, he was gay, all right, or bisexual at least, this being the most wonderful experience he'd had with anyone - liberating and hot. What more does a guy need?
Chris pulled back first, earning a whine from Darren. Chuckling softly, he pressed their foreheads together:
"So, how was it?"
Darren refused to answer, covering Chris's mouth with his instead.
"Cut! And that's a wrap."
Applause rang across the room as Blaine and Kurt parted, smiling at each other. Nope, Darren and Chris. It was all Darren and Chris.
Keep telling yourself that RP girls.