[This first upload of this story didn't really work out too well. The entire thing was improperly formatted. ...Whoops. Here's the fixed one.]

So Patty asked me to write her a CrissColfer fanfic and... this happened. I intend for this to be part one of two. But who knows. I may end up writing a whole lot more than two parts. I don't plan, I just kinda go with it.

Don't own Glee, blah blah blah. Yep.

It's the middle of summer in Los Angeles, hot as hell, and Chris needs a Diet Coke.

He's almost starting to wonder if this is some kind of cruel joke that the rest of the cast is playing on him.

It started after the eight p.m. show in Long Island at the Nassau Memorial Colosseum. The entire cast still had the adrenaline from a great performance rushing through their veins as they had climbed aboard the tour bus. Some high fived, some congratulated each other on spectacular performances, and others chose to tackle each other into hugs. Chris, of course, fell into the final category, being on the receiving end of one of Lea's over-enthusiastic squeezes.

With great effort they had made their way to their respective hotel rooms. Chris had tossed his bag onto the floor beside the bed almost immediately, flopping backwards into the sheets and nearly suffocating in pillows.

"Cory," he had called out, his voice muffled by a pillow covering his face. "I need my Diet Coke. This is urgent."

Cory finished shucking off his jacket and opened his bag, where he'd been storing a 2-liter for Chris for after the show.

"...Uh."

Chris sat up from the bed. "Uh?"

"...I think I might have taken it out when I got my shoes out at the show."

And so, the Diet Coke drought had begun. It seemed that anything he did, anywhere he went, he couldn't get a damn Diet Coke. After Cory's misplacing of Chris's soda, Chris had gone down to the lobby to get a Diet Coke from the vending machine. All out. The night before the first show in Manchester, the cast had gone out for a sort of celebratory dinner together. The restaurant they went to only served Pepsi products. Chris was beginning to believe that it wasn't the cast that was conspiring against him: it was the universe.

With all the running around he had to do to the shows across the country, and the extreme lack of Coca-Cola products but extreme abundance of Pepsi products in the United Kingdom and Dublin, Chris was on the verge of having a breakdown. Never in his life had he had to abstain for so long.

It's only been fifteen days, but to him, it's felt like an eternity.

The very first thing Chris does when he gets back to Los Angeles in July is stop at the convenience store and buy a 24-pack of Diet Coke. He's already ripped open the case and has a can popped open by the time he reaches the front of the line. In the time it takes to put the soda in his car and drive to his apartment he's downed two cans. It takes him another half a can to bring the case up the stairs.

As he's pulling his ring of keys from the back pocket of his jeans, his eyes land on a little red gift bag hanging on his apartment doorknob. He sticks the keys back into his pocket for a moment and sets the case of soda onto the ground in front of the door, taking the bag and peering inside. There's a folded piece of paper tucked in it beside something wrapped in tissue paper.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Chris reaches for the wrapped object first. It's wrapped pretty well, and it takes him a solid minute and a half to tear through the multiple layers of packing tape and tissue paper. Beneath the layers and layers of wrapped tissue is a single bottle of Diet Coke.

Chris blinks in confusion, stuffing the Coke and torn paper back into the bag and pulling out the folded paper. He unfolds the note, reading the lines of loopy scrawl written way off the lines.

"You almost had a breakdown on the tour bus, man. You have a serious addiction. I think you might need some counseling for this problem. Until then, enjoy."

At the very bottom of the note is a heart, signed as "Darren". Chris bursts into laughter at the ridiculous drawing in the corner of the note. A very fluffy Pavarotti clutches a Diet Coke in his left wing.

It can hardly be considered morning anymore when Chris wakes up, feeling the hot L.A. sun pouring in from the cracked window across his body and seeping under the sheets. It takes him a couple seconds to blink the sleep from his eyes before he turns his head toward the nightstand. As if it had been waiting for him to look its way, his cell phone buzzes violently, slowing crawling across the nightstand.

Chris groans, wiping at his eyes and reaching for his phone. His hands are still a little jittery from his post-withdrawal Diet Coke purge. It's probably also the reason that he's just now waking up at - he looks at the clock - eleven twenty-four.

He slides to unlock his phone, tapping the icon that says "THREE NEW MESSAGES". He taps the first one.

"slumber party w/ Amber this Friday, and i expect you to be there!"

Chris can't help but smile at the message from Lea. He quickly sends back, "Got it, I won't make any plans. U better have some DC waiting for me when I get there."

He goes to tap on the other message in his inbox and is interrupted by Lea's almost immediate reply.

"I didn't invite Darren but if you're feeling bold I can, do u want him waiting for you in the bedroom or on the couch?"

Chris rolls his eyes. "Shut up. U know I meant Diet Coke. Pervert."

Lea replies back with a winking face. Chris can't hold back a smirk as he moves on the the other two messages waiting for him. The first is from AT&T, an automatic message set to him whenever his phone bill is due. The second is from Darren.

He won't deny that every time he gets a 'Message From: Darren' notification he gets butterflies. Who wouldn't? Chris can almost guarantee that not a single person alive - not even straight men and lesbians - can resist getting a small crush on him. It's inevitable. He brushes those thoughts away and taps the 'OPEN MESSAGE' button.

"meet me for lunch? i promise to pick somewhere that sells coke products."

Chris smiles, quickly sending back a reply. "Of course. U choose the place, just tell me when." He sends it, hopping up with a suddenly renewed spring in his step and pulling open the closet to find some decent clothes.

It's twelve-thirty by the time Chris gets to the cafe. He's almost certain that that's record time for such short notice. He had to skip a morning shower, though. It was a good thing he'd taken one the night before.

As he scans the cafe, it doesn't take long for him to realize that once again, Darren is late. Not surprising. Chris probably would've been able to take his shower and get here and still be earlier than Darren. He gets right into place in the line, already knowing that he'll get a sandwich for them to split. They always do when they come here for lunch.

He's almost to the front of the line when he feels a hand slap his ass. Chris jumps, spinning around to see a smirking Darren behind him, hands crossed against his chest innocently. Chris tries to glare but can't fight off his grin.

"Well, fancy seeing you here," he begins. "Say, did you manage to see who slapped my ass on your way in?"

Darren shrugs, raising his hands, palms upward in a "no clue" sort of way. He strides up beside Chris.

"No idea," he says, slinging an arm low around Chris's waist. "But I'll smack him around if I see him. No one gets to touch this ass except for me."

Chris laughs, not really at his comment, but how ridiculous Darren looks. His pink sunglasses are perched at the top of his head, almost invisible from being covered by the curly mop of hair he's let grow out for the summer. Chris has a great view of the top of his head, considering how short Darren is in comparison to him.

"You know you're gonna have to tame that beast on your head before shooting for season three starts up again, right?" he asks, plucking Darren's sunglasses from the top of his head and putting them onto his own.

"That's still, like, three weeks away," Darren whines.

"Two," Chris corrects.

"Whatever. I missed the fro. I think it's time it made a comeback." He rolls his eyes, stepping up to the front of the line with Chris at his side.

Chris is barely paying attention as Darren speaks with the woman at the register. He has no idea how he could have possibly landed getting the greatest guy in the world as a best friend.

"Chris!" Chris snaps his attention to Darren.

"Huh?"

"Swiss or cheddar?" he asks.

Chris blinks, realizing they've been waiting for him to answer for the past few seconds. "Uh, cheddar."

The woman taking their orders nods and passes a Diet Coke and a lemonade across the counter. The two each take their respective drinks and head to an empty table by the window. Darren tucks his wallet into his back pocket and slides his arm back to its previous position around Chris's waist. The two of them slide into one booth against the wall, ignoring the other seats at the opposite side of the table. Chris, of course, gets to have the window seat. Darren always lets him have it. He knows how much Chris likes the view outside. Darren doesn't really mind that much, actually. The view outside is nice, but the view beside him is better.

Lunch is rather uneventful. Other than a few people walking up asking for autographs and some hilarious conversations shared between the two of them ("Chris, do I get an autographed copy of your book where it comes out?" "Shut up". "I'm serious, my mom wants one!") nothing extraordinary had happened.

They're sitting in silence together at the booth with clear plates and empty soda bottles when Darren starts conversation again.

"You're going to Lea and Amber's party Friday, right?"

Chris glances at him with confusion. "How did you find out about that?" he asks, puzzled.

Darren shrugs. "Lea told me. She called and invited me yesterday. She seemed really weird about it, though, all giggly. I guess that's just her normal personality though. She's always kind of excitable." Darren stretches his arms above his head and leans back in his seat, letting one arm hang around Chris's shoulders as he brings them down. He doesn't notice the sudden tenseness in Chris's shoulders.

Chris stares in open-mouthed shock. "She did?" he asks, his voice rising in pitch. Damn Lea. She planned this, he knew it.

"Yeah," Darren says nonchalantly. "So you going? I can give you a ride there if you are."

Chris swallows, looking at Darren with a quick smile. "Yeah, that'd be great."

Darren grins. "Cool." He takes his sunglasses from their spot perched on Chris's head and puts them on, leaving Chris to stare in silence out the window as he wonders what the hell he's going to do.

"YOU INVITED DARREN?" Chris types out frantically the minute Darren drops him off at his apartment. He hits send and sits down on the couch, waiting for Lea's reply.

This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. You couldn't get him wrong, Chris loved spending time with Darren. He loved Darren in general. But a sleepover, especially one of Lea's, was never a good idea anyway. Now it was ten times worse of an idea than it would've been before. Chris had been to Lea's previous slumber parties. The name was misleading. The last thing they did was "slumber". They were more like "spill out every deep secret you have to your name and fall over yourself from massive consumption of various types of alcohol" parties.

Chris looks down as his cell phone vibrates in his palm. He taps the message quickly to open it and read it.

"is that a problem? ;)"

Chris glares down at his phone. He types back a response. "Of course its a problem! Being alone w/ u and A I'm not worried about being drunk out of my mind and revealing my deepest darkest secrets, but I'd rather not have Darren witness it!" He pauses, sighing. He knew Lea was only trying to help. She saw how flirty they were with each other, and she'd told Chris to his face that she was sick of the skipping around the topic they seemed to do.

"It's an endless circle!" she had complained. "He flirts with you, you get giggly and flirt back, and it just happens all over again! You need to be the one to take charge and make something out of all this instead of just toying with each other. Claim him as yours!"

Chris had rolled his eyes. "He isn't a piece of meat, Lea, it doesn't work like that," he had said. But he had known she was right. If he waited too long, he knew the play flirting would end eventually and Darren would find someone serious. He looks down as he gets Lea's reply back.

"please, its not that big of a deal, C. in fact I think its a good opportunity for you to finally get some lip action as D and C, not K and B!"

Chris groans. He tosses his phone into the armchair across the room, burying himself under the throw pillows of the couch and squeezing his eyes shut.