Every night on tour, Darren would come to Chris' room, install himself on the bed and they would chat for hours, until they realized they should really, really go to sleep. Every day began early and ended late, but despite the exhaustion, Darren kept coming to Chris' room, and Chris would let him in.
They talked about everything and about nothing. Their topics varied from the weather that day and the amount of permanent hearing damage they would have gotten from the screaming fans, to discussions about the afterlife (or, according to Chris, the lack thereof), about philosophy. About love.
Chris always tried to dodge the topic, knowing Darren just wanted to pry for details about his former boyfriends and his current crushes. The former he really didn't have a problem with. He still had contact with both guys, and they were all friendly and no hard feelings and everything was rainbows and glitter and unicorns. His current crush, on the other hand, that was a little different.
It was different because his current crush was asking him about his crushes. And he was doing it in an undeniably adorable way. And it took Chris everything he had not to just spill it all.
How he had liked him in his Starkid productions, as a performer.
How he had liked him on the first day he actually met him, as a co-worker.
How he liked him as a friend, how he liked him as maybe, possibly, more than a friend.
How he loved him.
The night after the Dublin skit he was working on the script of his movie. His earbuds were plugged in and he didn't hear the knocks on his door.
He had a playlist on his iTunes, dedicated solely to songs that helped him write more easily.
Another series of knocks sounded through the small hotel room.
"Chris! Are you decent? I'm about to knock down the door so if you don't open it…"
He heard the familiar voice shouting above Adele belting out another note.
Rolling his eyes, he saved the document, closed his laptop and went to open the door.
"Chri- Oh hi. I didn't know you wore glasses."
Rubbing his eyes, Chris took off his reading glasses.
"Only for the computer. Why?"
"I think you look cute with them."
On the word 'cute' he tapped Chris on the nose and pushed him aside to flop face forward on the Queen sized bed in the middle of the room.
"Are you here to drool on my bed or to give me an explanation as to why you felt the need to kiss me today on stage?"
Chris asked tiredly, rubbing his temples and unconsciously licking his lips at the memory.
"Mostly to drool. Kissing is exhausting you know."
Darren's voice sounded muffled because of the fact that he had his face buried in one of Chris' pillows.
"Darren if you actually drool on that pillow I will make sure someone drools on your pillow and I won't tell you which one has someone else's spit on it. Am I clear?"
Darren, still just a mop of dark curls on the bed, turned over and said
"Aw you wouldn't. You love me too much for that."
Chris' already pale skin tone seemed to blanch even more, before a dark blush crept up from under his collar.
"I-I… I don't. I mean I do, but as a friend, not love love, more like, liking, but not like like and I'm rambling why don't you stop me?"
Darren, who was eyeing him curiously from the side of the bed, shrugged.
"I don't know, I thought it was pretty… interesting. I was waiting for some more to come actually. I'm kinda disappointed Chris!"
"What?"
"I thought you were going to confess your undying and everlasting love for me."
He shrugged again. Chris scowled at him.
"I do not have any everlasting love for you right now."
"I heard you talk in your sleep. You can lie to yourself, Chris, but not to your dreams. Because that would be lying to your heart."
Chris sighed because he knew this was going to turn into one of Darren's 'organic' talks, using words that were too long and too difficult to spell, let alone say, for this time of night.
"Well maybe I do lie to my dreams, Dare, who knows."
"Or, or you just really really love me."
He tilted his head slightly and flashed Chris his ever-winning 'dapper-seventeen-year-old-smile'.
"Yeah, yeah, really funny. I still have a lot of work and you clearly have nothing to talk about, so…"
Chris turned around, and behind him he heard Darren say something about being tired and sleeping, but his head was already back in his movie.
He plopped down on his uncomfortable hotel-deskchair and plugged in his earbuds. A while later he heard a faint murmur behind him, and pulled out his earbuds. He looked over his shoulder and saw Darren sprawled out on the bed.
His hair was escaping the gel and a few uncontrollable curls escaped the helmet hair and make-up always turned it into.
His chest rose and fell steadily, so Chris assumed he was asleep. On his bed.
Ah well, he'd probably pull an all-nighter, so he wouldn't need the bed anyways.
He started typing and got sucked into the story of Carson Phillips and his unfortunate life until he heard a soft whisper coming from the bed. He thought he had imagined it, because Adele was still blowing his eardrums out.
"Chris."
There it was again.
Pulling out one earbud, he leaned back on his chair to look at the bed.
Darren had curled up around one of the pillows, clutching it to his chest.
He breathed out Chris' name again and nuzzled the pillow.
He smiled a bit but tears stung his eyes.
Just like he had said before in some interview, he had met Darren's girlfriend. Darren was about as straight as they come. But why was he cuddling with his pillow, saying his name, and had he kissed him onstage?
A new Adele song rang through his ears and he almost snorted if it wasn't for the tears slowly filling up his eyes.
You say my name
Like there could be an 'us'
It sounded like he was on the freaking show. How could one stupid song describe so perfectly how he felt?
I best tidy up my head
I'm the only one in love
Chris turned back to his computer. Maybe losing himself in a life that was even more miserable than his own would make him forget for a second.
I'm the only one in love…