Darren is not Chris' type.
He learns this during his very first day on the set of Glee, because after Chris introduces himself and then bounds away to the makeup trailer, Darren is basically salivating into the air Chris had occupied two seconds ago.
To be fair, he'd already been a little star struck (read: obsessed) prior to the introduction, because first of all, the man is Chris freakin' Colfer. And secondly, after squealing like a teenage girl over being cast as Blaine Anderson, Darren had delved into the Internet and watched all of Glee's first season. He'd emerged from the world of Lima, Ohio just as he heard the front door opening, indicating Joey's return. 'His hair is so cute—floppy, but stylish—just adorable.' he'd explained emphatically over dinner,' And the pants they put him in, Joey, the pants.'
By his first day, Darren manages to lower his obsession down to a more manageable level. Darren can totally handle being friends with Chris. Because Chris Colfer is still a regular human being, right? And everybody likes Darren. ('Don't scare off the pretty gay boy with the pretty face and the pretty ass, Darren.' 'Fuck off, Joey. He'll love me.')
But Darren throws this plan into the wind approximately two minutes into meeting Chris Colfer, because Chris sings a little snippet of A Very Potter Musical, complete with a silly little dance, which is awesome and sort of ridiculously cute. And they even have the same favourite Disney princess. (Ariel, duh.) And well, by the time Chris skitters away Darren is basically already pondering the aesthetics of 'Darren Criss-Colfer' in his mind.
And that is when Lea struts by, breezing past and patting his shoulder and belting out, "You're not his type, Criss."
Huh. Chris has a type?
Darren looks down at himself. Sure, he's not the tallest guy, but his big personality more than makes up for that. There's his hair, people love his hair, it's all curly and pull-able. He has nice arms. And Darren's good at flirting, everyone tells him so, he's the kind of flirt that sneaks up on you—a flirt ninja. He'll worm and wriggle his way into Chris' life if it kills him. First they'll become work friends on set, and Chris might even fall asleep in Darren's trailer one day when they're hanging out, and then Darren will invite Chris back to his apartment to hang and before you know it—bam!—they'll be holding hands and making out on Darren's bed.
"Hmpf, I'm everyone's type," grumbles Darren, glaring at Lea as she teeters away on her high heels. Nearby, Harry side-eyes him a little but otherwise continues shoving a donut into his mouth.
When Chris starts dating (guys that sadly, unfortunately, noticeably are not Darren), Darren starts to understand just what Lea had meant.
The first guy, a thankfully brief affair, had been all tall, lean muscle, with a slender nose and delicate eyes. Darren sees pictures on Facebook and he isn't proud, but he glowers a little and maybe prints the picture out just so he can take a pen and scribble unattractive pimples all over what's-his-name's stupid face.
The second boyfriend comes to pick up Chris from work. Darren is walking with Chris to the parking lot, making headway on Operation Chris Criss-Colfer by 'accidentally' rubbing their shoulders together and smiling in the way that he knows is dorky yet adorable. But then Darren catches sight of the guy waiting for Chris. This one is a little more ruggedly handsome, strong jawline instead of high cheekbones, but still handsome in that contemporary, clean cut way. He's tall too, with broad shoulders and a strong waist, all abs and pecs that ripple as he pushes off from where he's leaning against his car. And Darren can see all this, because the asshole is shirtless. Who does that even, pick up their boyfriend from a professional workplace setting, without bothering to put on a shirt.
When the guy grins and calls hello with a full set of perfect teeth, Darren grimaces. He even has a British accent.
"He's kind of an asshole," Darren mumbles, self-consciously raising a hand to where his own stomach protrudes just a little.
"Mmmm," Chris hums. Darren glances over sharply, catches his co-worker's glazed blue eyes and stops in his tracks as Chris makes his way over to the stupid boyfriend with the stupid accent and the stupid abs.
Well, this will just not do at all.
After a month, Chris and the Asshole Boyfriend break up. "He was kind of an asshole," sighs Chris (Darren agrees), "He was really gorgeousthough." Darren makes a vague grunting sound and frowns a little. Darren is gorgeoustoo, in his own way. He's totally handsome, with a touch of old Hollywood glamour. Why won't Chris see that?
Following the second boyfriend disaster, Darren decides that enough is enough. No tall, model-built pretty boy is going to steal Chris away from Darren!
With a resigned sigh, Darren puts away his bright socks and colourful trousers in favour of boring shoes and expensive jeans. He wears sleek, modern suits to events instead of bright, vintage-cut ones. He stops using words like 'poop' and 'huzah'. Instead, he uses words like 'inarticulate' and 'propriety' and other big words. He stops painting his nails and wearing beanies. He stops narrating activities around the set by belting out a song about them, and he even sits properly on couches instead of crossing his legs and curling up in the way that he likes.
By the time he starts slipping a British accent into words here and there around Chris, Darren is acting on sheer desperation to get Chris' attention.
The third time he asks Chris primly and properly where the 'bathroom' is, articulated with a British accent, Chris huffs in annoyance and drags Darren away to his trailer.
"Okay. What. Is. Going. On. With. You." Chris grinds out, glaring at Darren with the kind of heat that would make Kurt Hummel proud, "You've been driving me crazy!"
Well, finally.
"I don't know what you mean," says Darren airily. He puffs out his chest and little and puts his hands on his hips, flexing his arms just a little bit.
"You." says Chris, "You are a goofball."
"Huh? What! No I'm—"
"No! You don't get to talk! You bounce around on set and do funny dances and wear bright colours and jump on things. Now all of a sudden, you're sitting properly and using normal words and being weird. You put on a British accent, Darren. You're not even remotely British!"
"I, I'm uh—"
"You what, Darren?"
"I'mnotyourtype!" It rushes out in a puff of air and Darren deflates, staring sadly at Chris. All he wants is a date, goddammit. And maybe a little making out, but he'll take what he can get.
Chris' eyes go big, eyebrows furrowing and head tilting curiously. His chin juts out in a way that is totally saying come again? And if it isn't the most adorable thing Darren has ever seen, he doesn't know what is.
"I'm not your type. I just want you to make out with me." Darren frowns, "I'm totally fun to make out with."
"You want me to make out with you?!"
"Well, I'd take you on a date first, obviously, Chris, I don't think you're a floozy." Darren frowns, and shuffles into Chris' personal space so that he can put a hand on Chris' wrist and stare up at him imploringly with big eyes. "You have a type, and I don't look like the kind of guys you like. But we get along really well and if you'd let me date you, I could show you that even without the abs or the muscles or the height or the accent I'd be a really good boyfriend."
Chris is still looking at Darren incredulously, jaw gaping in surprise before stuttering, "You don't think you're my type?"
"Well, no, I mean look at your last two boyfriends, Chris."
"Darren, you bounced onto set and made everyone love you within two minutes of talking to you. It's like you don't even know the meaning of the word shy. And you look at me with your stupid attractive face, and god Darren, your back muscles and your arms and your thighs. You were that cool guy I'd watched on my computer screen long before Glee, I had a crush on you before I even met you." Chris is rambling now, "And then I met you, and you were dorky and funny and you love Harry Potter and Disney and Comic-Con. You're basically my dream guy, Darren."
Darren grins, outlandishly pleased and just a little smug. (Take that, British abs dude, Darren is Chris' dream guy.) "I am?"
Chris shrugs, running a hand through his bangs self-consciously, "Well, yeah. I put my feelings aside because I didn't think I was your type. You've never showed any interest in me."
Darren's jaw drops in a way that is probably unattractive, "I rubbed my dick against you when we were filming!"
"We were filming as Kurt and Blaine making out in a car, Darren."
"I rubbed my dick on you after we filmed!"
"I thought you were just being an asshole!"
"Yeah well, I totally am attracted to you, so there." Darren crosses his arms childishly and pouts, "You're cute and your hips do magical things—thrusty, magical, sexy things."
"If that's your way of asking me on a date, then my answer is yes, Darren." Chris says, and Darren lights up excitedly. He and Chris are going on a date. He leans forward and wraps his arms Chris' torso, burying is face in Chris' neck and whispering yay! "Darren, I like you and although it's nice to know you'd try to change everything about yourself to get me, don't. I think you're hot even when you wear orange socks."
"My socks are adorable," Darren retorts, leaning back and smiling happily. "Are you sure you don't want me to change a thing about myself? Cause I've been working out, I totally have abs now. I mean they're not carved into mountains like that stupid British guy, but they're there."
Chris laughs, letting Darren tangle their fingers together and tug him out of the trailer towards their cars. "You can keep the abs if you want, I don't mind. Besides, I've felt your dick while we were filming, you totally have a bigger dick than that stupid British guy."
Darren nearly trips and sputters on air as Chris laughs, and his fantasies of making out with Chris on his bed quickly taking a decidedly not family friendly turn.