AN: Hi all. So I've been having serious writer's block with my other story, Irrevocable, because all my brain wants to do is write porn. It is so not interested in plot, or exploring emotion. It just wants the lovin'. So I wrote this to make it happy. Hopefully it will let me focus on something else now.
This has nothing to do with my other fic. It's set yesterday, obviously.
As always, I own nothing, neither Glee, nor Darren, nor Chris. If I did, Chris would have had his 21st birthday free from all work so that he could party it up in style. And Darren would have been delivered to his door dressed in nothing but a pink bow. You know where.
As always, please don't send this to the actors. They so don't need to see this kind of stuff, okay?
REVIEW!
Chris stumbled into his room, followed by a tide of humanity that consisted of most of the rest of the Glee cast. They had just finished up the show in Anaheim, and even though Chris had been a good boy and had not gotten drunk during the show, as soon as it was over his friends began plying him with shots. He was already a bit tipsy, even though it had been only half an hour or so. They were planning to get their drink on in his room for a while and then head out to a couple of clubs, and Chris could feel the excitement and camaraderie building as his friends knocked back shot after shot. He smiled somewhat tiredly, and rested his head on Lea's shoulder.
"Oh no, none of that!" she yelled. "Another shot for Chris, and then we all get to kiss the birthday boy!"
A cacophony of giggles, shouts, woo-hoos and various other affirmative noises followed this announcement. Chris took the shot that Lea handed him, downed it and then looked at her expectantly. She grinned and planted a somewhat moist kiss on his right cheek.
"Oh wait, I have a way to make this so much better!" she said as she pulled away. "For every shot Chris does, he gets a kiss!"
"You don't actually have to try to get me drunk, Lea. I'm perfectly willing to do it on my own."
"Yeah, but my way is more fun," she grinned at him again. He grinned back.
"So who's next?" she asked, holding up a tequila bottle and shaking it towards the rest of the group.
Both Amber and Mark stepped forward at the same time. Amber looked at Mark appraisingly then gestured for him to go first. Mark took the tequila from Lea, poured a shot for Chris, and then handed it to him with a heavy wink. Chris blushed slightly and downed the shot. Once he had, Mark placed a very gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth that caused Chris to blush even harder.
"My turn," shouted Amber, grabbing the bottle from Mark. Chris drank her shot and she grabbed his face with both hands and pressed her lips into his. She didn't move her lips, or really even attempt to kiss him as such; she just held her lips against his for about ten seconds. Then she pulled back and turned to the rest of the group. "On the lips, people! This will get real boring, real fast if you don't step it up." Chris groaned. He knew that none of them would back down from that kind of challenge.
In quick succession he was kissed by Chord, Dianna, Cory and Naya. Chord just quickly brushed his lips against Chris's, blushing slightly as he pulled away. Dianna gave him a soft, sweet peck on the lips that caused Chris to giggle. Cory kissed him like he was some sort of wind-up bird – he just bobbed his head in really quick and then bobbed back away. The awkwardness of it made Chris burst into laughter, which was quickly stifled when Naya basically licked his entire mouth. He pulled away from her, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt and wailing, "Gross!"
Then Darren was sitting in front of him, waving the tequila bottle around, and Chris felt the mood in the room shift. Or maybe it was just his mood. He suddenly wanted to be very far away from here, or at least much more sober. He moved to stand up, but Lea, who was still sitting next to him, grabbed his shoulder and forced him to stay.
"Hey, I've already kissed Darren," he said nervously. "Maybe someone else should go instead. "
"Yeah, but that was a stage kiss. I want a birthday kiss," said Darren, winking at him and grinning with his entire mouth. He held out the shot glass to Chris, who rolled his eyes at his own discomfort and threw back his head, pouring the tequila down his throat. As his head came back down, he felt Darren's fingers trailing along his throat, holding his face steady once he was looking at him again. Darren leaned in, his eyes open and staring into Chris's, a small smirk on his face. Just before their lips met, Darren closed his eyes. Their lips pressed gently together, and Chris felt a familiar jolt run through him at the contact. He closed his eyes to enjoy it, sure that it would be over in a second. Then Darren brushed his tongue against Chris's lower lip. That was definitely not familiar. Chris gasped slightly, and Darren's tongue slipped inside his now open mouth.
Suddenly the kiss changed, hardening into something more urgent, more passionate. Darren was avidly exploring Chris's mouth with his tongue, his hands still firmly planted on Chris's cheeks, holding him, keeping him from moving away. Chris felt swept away, and he gave in to the kiss, allowing himself to meet Darren's tongue with his own. He thought he heard some rustling, a movement of some kind, but he was unable to focus on anything but Darren's mouth on his. That is, until he felt Darren start to nudge him backwards onto the bed. Straining past the intoxication of tequila and boy kisses, Chris pushed at Darren's shoulders, breaking the kiss.
"Darren, what are you doing?"
"Making out with you, obviously," Darren grinned cheekily. Chris looked around the room. They were alone.
"Where did everyone go?" he asked, panicking slightly.
Darren shrugged. "I don't know. I guess they wanted to give us some privacy, which I, for one, really appreciate." He grinned again and moved towards Chris once more. Chris stopped him with a hand to his chest.
"Darren, you're drunk."
"Not really, actually."
"Well, fine. I'm drunk. Why are you doing this?"
Darren shrugged again. "It seemed like a good idea?" he said uncertainly.
Chris got up from the bed and walked over to the window, looking outside to calm himself. The room was spinning slightly, and everything felt unreal. "It's really not a good idea," he said, his back still to Darren.
"I don't think you really mean that."
"I do, Darren. I don't just hook up randomly, and I definitely don't hook up with straight guys."
"But I'm special," said Darren mischievously. Chris turned around, about to tell him off, and stopped, gaping like a fish. Darren was standing about six feet away, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He unbuttoned the last button and slipped the shirt off his shoulders. Chris just gaped some more, his drunken eyes scanning over Darren's chest, taking in the smattering of hair and the definition of his muscles. Then he noticed what Darren's hands were doing. They were starting to unbuckle his belt. Chris's eyes flew up to meet Darren's. He was staring at Chris intently.
"Darren," gasped Chris. "What are you-" Chris broke off as Darren took a step forward and pulled his belt swiftly through the loops in his jeans, tossing it aside. He gulped.
"Undressing. Obviously," said Darren, his voice silky.
"But you – you're straight," Chris desperately tried to reason with him. Darren didn't reply. Instead he took another step forward (four feet away now) and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans, slowly pulling the zipper down. Chris's breathing became erratic and his heart started thumping loudly in his ears. Darren slipped his jeans down, revealing black boxer briefs that were covering a very obvious erection.
"Does this look straight to you?" Darren asked, pointing to the bulge in his boxers. Chris just whimpered in reply, unable to take his eyes off the curve of Darren's erection. Darren pulled his jeans the rest of the way down, slipped them off and tossed them to the side. Then he took another step forward. Three feet away.
Darren palmed himself through the fabric of his boxers, causing Chris to moan. He took another step forward, sliding his hands up his chest as he did so. When he stopped, two feet away from Chris, he slipped his hands down once more, pushing them below the waistband of his boxers, freeing his erection as he slid them down. He kicked them off then straightened up and took yet another step towards Chris. He was only one foot away now and completely naked, his erection straining upwards at a forty-five degree angle, seemingly pointing right at Chris's lust-filled eyes.
"I'd really like you to touch me," said Darren softly. Chris just shook his head, trying to back away from Darren. He couldn't; he was already pressed against the window. "Don't you want to touch me, Chris?"
Chris looked into Darren's eyes. They held such a mixture of emotions that Chris gasped in shock. There was sincerity and passion and fear and lust and uncertainty. "I – I do. Of course I do, Dare. You're – God, you're just so… But I don't understand."
"Do you really need to? Right now?" Darren's voice was pleading.
Chris looked at him, dragging his eyes from his face over his chest, down to the straining erection, past that to his feet, which seemed about ready to spring forward but were somehow being held back. He lifted his gaze again, traveling back up Darren's body to his eyes. "No, I don't," he said softly. Then he reached out a hand and placed it on Darren's cheek. Once he made contact, Darren immediately shot forward, erasing that last foot of distance between them. His lips fell onto Chris with a hunger that caused Chris to groan deep in his throat. He threaded his fingers through Darren's hair and pressed into the kiss. Darren's hands came up and started nervously fiddling with the buttons of Chris's shirt. Chris broke the kiss, placed his hands over Darren's, holding them to his chest, and looked deep into Darren's eyes. "Let me," he said simply.
Darren's hands fell away and he watched as Chris unbuttoned his shirt swiftly. Darren let out a sigh as Chris shrugged the fabric off his shoulders and brought his hands back to Chris's exposed chest, tracing his fingers over the pale skin there. Chris began to undo his belt. Instead of dramatically whipping it through the belt loops like Darren had done, he let it remain as he unbuttoned his pants and slowly pulled his zipper down. Darren's hands followed his movement, drifting lower, and his eyes were devouring Chris's body as he exposed it. Chris hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pants, also under his boxers, and swiftly pulled both down together. Darren gasped and pushed against him, rubbing their erections together as he kissed Chris messily.
Chris pulled back slightly and said, "Dare, I still have to get these off," gesturing downwards to where his pants and boxers were pooled around his ankles. Darren nodded and was suddenly on his knees, tugging first one then the other of Chris feet upwards and slipping the clothing off him. He tossed the pants away and looked up at Chris. Darren cocked his head to the side, a question in his eyes. Chris nodded, swallowing in his suddenly dry throat.
Darren's hands drifted up Chris's calves, pausing at the depression behind his knees. Then they ghosted up the outside of his thighs, dragging up over the front until they rested on Chris's hip bones, gripping lightly and holding Chris in place. Chris saw Darren take a deep breath, as if steadying himself. Then Darren stuck out his tongue and licked the tip of Chris's penis like he was licking an ice cream cone. Chris shuddered at the swift wet contact. Then Darren's mouth engulfed the entire head of his penis, lips tight around his shaft and tongue swirling into his slit. Chris groaned and felt his knees start to buckle. Darren's grip tightened in his hips, holding him in place until he could get his bearings. When Chris was more stable, Darren took one of his hands off Chris's hips and wrapped it around the lower part of Chris's erection. Then he bobbed his head down onto Chris, dragging his hand up to meet his lips, all the while sucking hard. He found a rhythm after a few moments and busied himself with his task and Chris began muttering nonsensically above him, whining and gasping between words. Chris was looking for his orgasm, and was just about to find it, when Darren suddenly released him. Chris whimpered at him. "What? Why?" he gasped.
Darren didn't respond. Verbally, at least. Instead he gazed into Chris's eyes from his position on the floor and then sucked one of his own fingers into his mouth, growling a bit as he took it in. Then he sucked in another finger. As he released them, he gave the tip of each finger a lick and looked at Chris questioningly once more, an eyebrow cocked hopefully.
Chris shuddered. Then he whispered, "Saliva's really not enough, Dare. Go look in the front of my carry on."
Darren leapt to his feet and ran over to Chris's bag. He rummaged through it until he found some lube and a handful of condoms. Then he walked slowly back over to Chris, took his hand and pulled him to the bed. This time, when Darren pushed him backwards, Chris didn't resist.
"What do you think the best position for this is?" asked Darren matter-of-factly.
Chris responded by flipping himself over on his stomach and pulling his knees up almost to his chest so that his face was in a pillow and his ass was high in the air. He turned his face to the side and looked down and behind himself to Darren, who was staring at him in awe.
"Go slowly, Dare," said Chris nervously.
Darren nodded and gulped. He picked up the lube and smeared it over his fingers. Then he pressed one into Chris, just past the first ring of muscle, and paused.
"Which way is the prostate?" he asked. "Towards the front or the back?"
"The front," gasped Chris through the pain.
Darren nodded and pushed his finger slowly in, hooking it forwards towards Chris's stomach. He felt a small nub brush against his fingertip, and then Chris gasped loudly and suddenly shifted his hips, impaling himself further on Darren's finger. Darren began sliding the finger in and out of Chris, resisting the urge to touch himself at the sounds Chris was making each time he made contact with his prostate. Darren didn't want to come before he got a chance to be inside Chris. After a few minutes, during which Chris was basically fucking himself on Darren's finger, Chris gasped out, "Darren! More fingers! I am way past ready for them!"
"You said to go slow," replied Darren almost grumpily, but he slid another finger into Chris, who paused to take the pain and then began shifting his hips again, quickly adjusting to the added girth.
"A third, Darren! Now!" Chris gasped. Darren complied, shoving a third finger in and twisting his hand, slowly brushing each fingertip against Chris's prostate.
"Oh G-uh!" screamed Chris, the pain and pleasure short-circuiting his brain. He pushed back hard against Darren's fingers, relishing the way they stretched him. But suddenly they were no longer inside him, but resting on the small of his back, just above the curve of his ass. Chris whimpered at the loss, but then he heard Darren chuckle and say, "Ready?"
"Yes," he gasped. He shifted himself upwards, so that he was on his hands and knees. Darren stroked his right hand along Chris's spine, all the way up to his shoulder blades and then ran it back down to his ass, fingers brushing slightly over Chris pulsing hole. Darren's left hand was gripping hard onto Chris's hip as he guided the head of his condom-covered penis into Chris. Once it was slightly in, and Chris had stopped gasping so hard, he put his right hand on Chris's other hip and slowly slid in until he was fully sheathed in Chris' ass, stabilizing both of them with the firm grip he had on Chris's hips. "Tell me when I can move," he said through gritted teeth, determined not to hurt Chris.
Chris battled against the pain of having Darren's cock deep inside him. He breathed into the pain, forcing it away from him and relaxing into it. When he felt sufficiently stretched, he reached back with one arm and stroked his hand along Darren's hip, which was shuddering and twitching with the need to move. "Now. Slowly," said Chris softly.
Darren pulled almost all the way out of Chris, just until his head was in contact with the first ring of muscles, and then he slid back in, just as agonizingly slowly. Chris moaned in pleasure throughout the entire, drawn out movement, because the position they were in meant that almost the entirety of Darren's erection slid over his prostate as pushed in. Darren repeated his slow thrusts a few more times, until Chris whined, "Faster, Darren! Harder!"
Darren sped up his movements, trying to maintain control long enough for Chris to come. Chris had pulled his hand away from Darren's hip and was now jerking himself off violently, his back arching as Darren pounded into him. Finally he tipped over the edge, spilling his semen all over the bed in front of him and calling out Darren's name.
Darren felt Chris clutching around him, the impossibly tight heat of his ass suddenly becoming even tighter. It was almost painful how tight he was as he twitched through his orgasm. Chris suddenly went limp, and Darren snaked his arm around his waist, holding him up as he continued to pound into his ass, determined to reach his own orgasm as quickly as possible now. A couple more quick, shallow thrusts into Chris had him on the edge, and he finished with a deep thrust as far into Chris as he could get, shuddering his way through his orgasm, curling his body around Chris's so that his chest was flush with his back. Once he had ridden it through, he relaxed his hold on Chris's waist and they both collapsed onto the bed together, Darren stretched out on Chris's back, his softening penis still deep inside him.
Darren slowly slid out of Chris and fell to the side, not caring about the fact that he was rolling around in Chris's cooling sperm. He tugged Chris's unresponsive body towards him and kissed him lightly on the mouth.
"Happy Birthday, Chris Colfer."