A Little Less Perfect, a glee fanfic

A LITTLE LESS PERFECT (M; Romance/ Drama; CC/DC; RPF (Glee))

Summary: Perfection is a sham. For Darren, perfection is maintaining his Ladies' Man image. For Chris, perfection is keeping mum about what he truly feels. A bogus ply to keep pretenses up is shattered by one passionate night under the rain. Originally intended for CrissColfer Week on Tumblr, but I just HAD to post it now. Please heed warnings.

WARNINGS: Non-graphic sexual content (R-16). Inappropriate language. Contains Angst. Ends up quite fluffy/ silly. Not for the faint of heart (read: CHILLARREN). If you absolutely abhor, detest. Hate CRISSCOLFER, then what the heck are you doing here? Leave now!

DISCLAIMER: The persons depicted in this work of fiction do not necessarily engage in the acts described below. Creative liberty is employed in the dramatization of events as stated and they, do not necessarily follow common logic. Glee and all related registered trademarks belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy. All recognizable elements belong to their owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

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A/N: Enjoy. Cookies to those who can figure out that teeny tiny Klaine duet reference. Do not forget to feed my addiction after you're done. (See end notes).

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A Little Less Perfect

By: C.M. Oliver

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For each and everyone of my Tumblr followers. I may not be Tumblr-famous, but you make it worth my while. –C.

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When things go downhill, it sure goes down really fast.

It started with an innocent little interview. It was but a 90 second clip of the two of them throwing pretty innocent questions back and forth to satisfy the fans. They both had a blast, taking advantage of that rare opportunity to be in the presence of each other, without having to hide behind the masks of 'Kurt' and 'Blaine'. It was supposed to be just one interview. The teaser was released. Then came that tweet…

Expectedly, the fandom did not take it sitting down. The division among certain factions grew wider. Fingers were pointed and harmful words were exchanged. In the end, Fox (and their PR,) decided to hold the release of that 90 seconds of reality.

Then those Blind Gossip articles came like a 1-2 punch. The author hid behind metaphors and skirted around using clichéd descriptions, but it was clear on who the 'bisexual actor' was. It was clear as to whom he was seeing, leading on, and using. This time however, PR could not do a thing. If they reacted, it was already as good as an admission.

Then the 'Ring' rumors spread out. They couldn't decide on what to do, so PR crafted it's own gossip. There wasn't a shard of truth in it at all…

In the end, he was branded a player, a user, a man-whore; He, on the other hand, was called a liar, a tool, a cheater. For so long, they kept their silence.

It was about to end –in a way that no one ever anticipated.

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"Shit." Darren kicked the nearest object to him, which was an innocent trash bin. The metal crashed against the paved curb behind Studio 4. It was ten past ten and the parking lot before him was completely deserted. A frustrated sigh escaped the 26-year old actor's lips, ushering in another set of expletives.

"FUCK. FUCK. Just –Fuck!" Amber eyes were trained carefully onto the glowing screen of the mobile phone in his hand:

FROM: CHRIS COLFER 3

I'm just sick of this. This needs to END. Meet me at the rooftop of Building B at exactly 10:15 p.m. WE NEED TO TALK.

Darren sucked in a deep breath. Whatever did Chris mean by 'ending' things? That did not sound promising. Not at all. But he couldn't very well not show up, right?

From a far. A roll of thunder cut right through his musings. Darren cursed again under his breath. From where he was, to Chris' location, it was a good 10-minute walk. As soon as the next roll of thunder shook the silence of that night, he quickly made a decision.

He began to run.

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Chris clutched the edges of his generic grey hoodie tightly around himself. Rehearsals ended hours ago, but he just did not have the heart to go home yet.

Everyone was worrying about him. No matter how hard he tried to contain his feelings, it just seemed to leak out of him like a volatile gas. His parents would always give him these looks of worried concern. Hannah would sometimes grab his hand and squeeze it reassuringly without a single word. Ashley's calls to 'check up on him' were becoming more frequent. Lea gave him these understanding pats on the back… hell, even his cat Brian was less bitchy nowadays. Everybody around him treated him like he was about to disintegrate anytime soon. Well to be honest, Chris felt that way too and he hated it. He hated the pity, the empathy, the uncertainty, no matter how relatively perceived it was. So he decided to send that message to Darren, hoping –no, expecting –the older man to understand Chris' need for this 'talk' to happen. Lately, things have just been all too much. He had kept quiet for three years.

It ends tonight.

A clap of thunder drew Chris back to reality. His glasz eyes automatically surveyed the sky above him. Thick, dark clouds covered the otherwise starlit sky. A gust of wind blew against his exposed cheeks.

It was about to rain.

Chris checked his water-proof wristwatch. It read '10:15 p.m.' and yet he was still alone. He frowned. Did Darren just stand him up? With a defeated sigh, he cast one final glance at he dark sky and began to walk away from the rooftop ledge where he had been sitting on since 8. He was about to head for the stairs when a figure clad in a plain white t-shirt, black jeans and deck shoes appeared in the entryway. It was evidently trying to catch its breath, probably having ran all the way up to the 16th floor of Building B (the elevators were turned off at 9). Once it was fully recovered, its honey eyes locked onto Chris' baby blue ones.

"Sorry –I didn't get to read your message sooner. I hope you weren't waiting for too long."

An inexplicable feeling of relief crossed Chris' consciousness at hearing that. But it quickly changed into trepidation. "It doesn't matter, Darren. You're here now." He pulled lightly on an earlobe in what appeared to be an uncomfortable gesture.

An awkward smile came on Darren's lips at Chris' gentle tone. He took a step closer towards the younger man, his hands digging deep into the pockets of his jeans. A cold breeze blew, sending goose bumps into his thinly-clad form. Why couldn't he have dressed warmer like Chris did? "You wanted to talk? Is this the part where you dump me?" The tone was playful, but it obviously held an immense amount of apprehension.

Chris raised an eyebrow, seeing Darren's shivering form. Without further ado, he slipped off his hoodie, revealing a long-sleeved navy UCLA sweatshirt –a gift from his cousin. He then unfurled it like a cape and draped it around Darren's smaller form. The curly-haired actor managed a small chuckle.

"I thought chivalry is dead." Chris shook his head somberly.

"Imagine my grief if you caught pneumonia and died," the younger man added quickly, to which the elder one gave a hearty laugh. But that light-hearted moment rapidly turned solemn as the first streak of lightning painted across the sky; then about five seconds later, a booming sound. Darren gripped the edges of Chris' loaned hoodie.

"Um, Chris? Maybe we should –"

"No. This ends right here, right now." Chris cut him off, the words stiff and determined. "We can't do this anymore." The glasz-eyed actor took a deep breath and crossed his arms against his chest. The act might've looked a bit on the defensive side to most, but to Darren, who knew this young man like the back of his hand –inside and out – it was understood as a vulnerable move. Whatever it was that was to transpire between them that night, it would certainly bare Chris raw; he was taking a pro-active stance to brace himself for it. Darren eyed him in concern. Chris was the most inspiring, wonderful, selfless person he'd ever met. He couldn't stand seeing the 23 year-old like this. Not anymore. He took a couple of steps until the gap between them was almost non-existent. With utmost gentleness, Darren cupped Chris' cheek and made the younger actor look him in the eye.

"For all its worth, I'm sorry… For dragging you into all this… For letting things get carried away… I'll –I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just say that you love me still. Please –"

That declaration was punctuated by a crashing noise, then a wailing blow. Then, silver bullets began to fall from the dark abyss of the cloudy night sky. Darren cringed as the first drops of the frigid rain hit his clothed body. He automatically grabbed Chris' hand to pull him towards the shelter provided by the awning leading to the stairwell –but Chris would not budge. The bullets quickly turned to buckets. Darren stared at Chris, gob smacked.

"Chris, we need to get inside! The rain doesn't seem to be letting on up soon. In fact ti seems to be getting worse. We're going to get sick if we –"

Thunder. Louder this time. Darren tugged on Chris' arm with more force.

"Chris –"

"No," Chris' voice was soft, almost drowned out by the pitter-patter of the rain, but was enough to be heard by a confused Darren. But before the curly-haired man could properly formulate a retort, his porcelain-skinned companion had already pulled him back towards himself, right under the middle of the heavy downpour.

"You said you'd do anything," Chris' voice barely shook even though he was already soaked to the bone. "Do this –for me."

There were barely enough words in that pronouncement, but it was more than enough for Darren to understand what was being asked of him. Throwing away all caution to the wind (or in that case, the rain) he banished all the remaining distance between him and Chris and captured the young man's lips with his own.

Chris' lips were like liquid fire –warm, soft, intoxicatingly sweet and addicting. The gentle pressure of them, as they slid against Darren's was maddening. It just wasn't enough. The older actor knew that he'd lose his sanity if ever he'd be asked to give this up. No way. He drew Chris even closer and deepened the kiss. Lips were crushed as teeth and tongue grazed and delved, mapping each other's mouths with earnest fervor, wild abandon, and an intimacy known only to two people who've done this countless times before. No matter how many times in the past that they've done this –behind secret alcoves, hidden in dark shadows, holed up in obscure spaces –it always felt like it did the first time…

Like it was meant to be. Time and time again. And now, to be able to do this, out in the open with nothing but a flimsy curtain of crystal tears from heaven shielding them from prying eyes, it felt liberating.

The need for air soon came up and eventually, the couple reluctantly pulled apart. But the momentary physical distance was made up for by the hungry look in both amber and ocean orbs.

"Chris, I –"

"Shut up, Darren." As soon as their lips rejoined, hands flew all around, desperately trying to rid themselves of barriers –barriers both perhaps, in the literal and figurative sense. Darren was bare, sooner than Chris was and stood naked as the day he was born under the heavy rain. But if he was chilled to the bone but a few seconds ago in his flimsy clothes, it was a great contrast to the burning embers warming him up mere moments later.

Chris pulled back and greedily took in the sight of his lover in the rain as he slowly peeled off the rest of his drenched layers. They have done this many times before –but each time to Chris, felt just like the first…

Like it was meant to be. Time and time again. As soon as the last article of clothing was lying in a puddle by their feet, Chris and Darren reclaimed each other, nevermore wanting to share this precious intimate moment with anyone else. Each peck, each kiss, each touch –conveyed sentiments that could not have otherwise been made known; Each lick, each suck, each caress –offered a promise for more in return; Each stroke, each thrust, each moan… each cry of completion –professing feelings that came from deep within –raw, passionate, real. Whenever they were alone together like this, they never had to act like the perfect little stars. There were no roles, no scripts, no pretenses, no regrets, no ruses… just absolution from it all…

They were just Chris and Darren.

Just Chris and Darren: friends, lovers, soulmates…

As Darren felt himself peak, buried deep inside the warmth that was Chris, another roar from the heavens rang, ushering the younger actor's own completion in the elder one's steady hand. Chris' forehead was leaning against the rooftop ledge as Darren gently collapsed over his bent form. The rain had finally graduated into a mild drizzle. The moon began to peak from behind the clouds.

"Babe?" Darren's baritone was rough but soft. "You okay?" he asked as he gently pulled out from behind Chris and caressed the latter's bare back with something akin to reverence. His knees shook from the intensity of his orgasm, but he forced himself not to fall on his younger lover. A quick glance around them told Darren that the nearest piece of clothing to them was three feet away. He then turned his attention back to Chris who still lay crumpled by the ledge. The glasz-actor's pale form was still reveling (recovering) from the tremors of his own powerful release.

"Yeah," his countertenor was unusually higher than normal. "My legs feel like lead –or Jell-O –or Lead –O –I'm not so sure."

A soft chuckle escaped Darren's lips. "If it is any consolation, mine feel like melting butter." Slowly, he approached Chris once more, "Want me to carry us towards that awning? It's probably warmer and drier there." Without waiting for that nod of approval, he deftly maneuvered Chris into a bridal position against his chest and carried the younger man towards their destination. Once there he carefully set him down before giving another critical once-over. "Are you sure you're okay? Did I hurt you? I mean, we didn't have lube –well, there's rain water. Although I'm not –I mean it may not be sanitary or –" Darren rambled on like he was wont to do until Chris held up a finger against his lips.

"God, Darren. Stop. You're making my head hurt more than my ass," he smirked at Darren's flushed cheeks. "No, don't you dare apologize. I dare say we both needed that."

Darren grinned lightly before huffing. "Although something tells me there is more to this than kinky rain-rooftop sex." He gestured towards the drizzle that was almost coming to a stop. "I'm still waiting for the axe to drop, Mr. Colfer." His face turned serious. "Was that break-up sex?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Chris asked, his voice shivering now as the cold quickly set it. Their clothes were soaked and they were still bare from head to foot.

"Well, you said you wanted to talk," Darren frowned. "And then you said, and I quote: 'this ends right here, right now.' Now, I'm not an expert on break-ups but –"

"Good God, no!" Chris cut him off, shaking his head and feeling like some washed-up mongrel for it. "You definitely misunders –when I said that, I meant this charade. You and your perfect ladies' man image, and I with my perfect relationship with an awe-struck fan." He wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to keep warm. "We're done with being their lapdogs, okay? We're through being perfect."

Darren's eyes lit up after that pronouncement.

"Anarchy." He pulled Chris closer and held him in a tight embrace. "I like the sound of that." Chris burrowed deeper against Darren's chest –it was damp but considerably warm. He rolled his azure eyes.

"You like anything disruptive."

Darren chuckled, burying his nose in Chris' wet hair, inhaling a mix of tangerine musk an rain water, and a scent that was entirely Chris' own.

"That's why I love you. So you're not dumping me then because I'm too complicated –yada, yada, yada?" The younger man pushed him away lightly.

"Hell no. Not after –that,' Chris grinned suggestively. "Nope. Definitely not."

Darren pretended to look hurt. "So you were just using me for my body then, huh? I knew it." Chris could not help but laugh at Darren's 'kicked puppy' look. He patted his arm patronizingly. "Of course not, D. I keep you because I can't afford a decent comforter. That and your sense of humor is so dry it's funny." He giggled. "And I love you too." He pinched Darren's nose. The older man yelped.

"Ouch! Okay, so what now?" He held both arms astride, making like the Vetruvian man minus the extra appendages. "If you haven't noticed yet, we have this extremely small problem of our clothes being drenched in rain water and being both butt-booty naked. My car is about a 15-minute walk away. Building B is all locked up except the stairwell entrance, and I'm pretty sure that the guard I've managed to dodge a while ago is back at the foot of the stairwell manning his station." Darren's frustration however, was met by a mischievous glint in Chris' eyes.

"Dare… how fast exactly can you run?"

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The lone guard on-duty in Building B was about to take a sip of his lukewarm coffee when three things happened all of a sudden, at the same time:

The door to the stairwell burst open and came flying his way, were a couple of balled-up wet t-shirts. He managed to avoid the dark navy one with his fast reflexes, but he did not anticipate the white one –it hit him smack in the face. At about the same time, a couple of giggling, half-naked blurs streaked past by him, clutching their stomachs in laughter. The guard had half a mind to stop and apprehend them for trespassing –but as soon as he recognized that messy head of curls (which was prominent even from a far) and that luminous complexion (which was even more striking,) he decided against it. He slowly shook his head as a small smile crept up his lips. He picked up the wet pieces of clothing and chuckled to himself.

"About damn time."

The guard would drop by his wife's workplace –the laundry shop nearby –the following morning with a request to have the shirts cleaned. He would then have to tell her the interesting story of how he came into possession of said articles of clothing. He would tell her to keep it a secret, of course, and she would. For about 5 minutes. After that she'd just had to tell her best friend (she'd keep it a secret too, of course). Her best friend had a favorite niece however, who was a big fan of this hit TV show called Glee… who had a sister, who in turn, was a fan of this pairing called CrissColfer, who had an account on Tumblr, who had around 2,703 followers, who shipped the same OTP to hell and back… who would absolutely, certainly DIE if they knew of the real score between their babies…

Well, boys and girls. You get the picture.

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FORM: The Phantom Shipper (blog)

A LITTLE LESS PERFECT?

Well, well, well.

Just when you thought you know the whole story, you get things like this…

Apparently, Bisexual Actor (BA) isn't so much of a bisexual man-whore after all. He was previously reported by another questionable source as dating Girl Producer (GP) and seeing Gay Actor (GA) on the sly. Well, that's at least what they (as in the questionable source) wanted us fans to think.

Another source who refused to be named e-mailed us a tape-recorded conversation between BA and GA detailing this bogus ploy concocted by their own camps to preserve their perfect public images.

However, this wasn't all that was contained in the conversation. The sound-byte was of poor quality and it seemed to have been recorded in the middle of a huge thunderstorm, But suffice to say, a more intimate 'talk' ensued during the recording. And based from what we've heard, it was more than a 'casual' thing.

For obvious reasons, we will not release the full contents of the said tape. But we were ensured by our source that the authenticity could be verified by a third-party when called into question.

We'll be waiting on bated breath for this confirmation.

In the mean time, you have to trust our word on this one.

Bottom line is, BA and GA are in love… and not the kind you see them portraying onscreen. This one is a little less perfect, but 100% real. BA and GA are in an honest-to-goodness relationship. GP is a beard and their PR is a sham. We just hope to eventually encourage BA and GA to finally come out in the open about their relationship. Love, true love that is, is always a wonderful thing. And in this day and age, it no longer matters who you love. If this is indeed what we think it is then we fan girls could not ask for anything else.

Life is perfect. Nothing more. Nothing less.

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Chris groaned, hitting Darren on the head with a pillow. They were comfortably lying side by side on their stomachs atop the latter's bed in his downtown L.A. studio apartment.

"You sent them the TAPE? How –what if that gets out?"

"Hey, you didn't even tell me that you were recording the thing!" Darren protested. "Where did you get that spy earring anyway? And when did you get that piercing? And what –were you planning to do with that thing anyway?"

"Blackmail material," Chris muttered darkly under his breath. "I thought we agreed on waiting until it was absolutely necessary?"

"Hey," Darren broke into a grin. "Don't worry. I really didn't send the tape. I was just kidding –"

"Wait, WHAT?" Chris jumped up from his spot. "But –how –who –" his blue eyes widened. "No way, you? You wrote the article?" Darren laughed and flipped over his back.

"Guilty as charged. I had a little help from those gossip blogs –no, not in that way –I read them and tried to mimic their style. Then one decoy Tumblr account later –and voila!" he gestured at the laptop screen. "Look, 8,308 followers in less than 3 hours too! Hah –beat that, Colfer!" Chris shook his head good-naturedly.

"Really. We're fighting fire with fire now?"

"Well, not really, if you put it that way," Darren pointed out, pulling Chris against his side and wrapping him in a one-armed hug. "Theirs was purely made up. Ours is 100% verifiable, straight from the source."

"What if no one believes this thing?"

Darren beamed and slid over to one side of his mattress. He then reached fro what appeared to be a laundry garment bag from underneath his bed frame. "This –came in just this morning." He tossed the bag to Chris, who quickly unzipped it open. Glasz eyes shot up in surprise.

"But –but –" He looked at Darren who was smiling like a Cheshire cat. "Who –the –oh, God –the –"

" The security guard," the older actor interrupted him with a wink. "Will be giving an interview for The Phantom Shipper."

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A/N: I did not know which day this would fit better if I did put it out for CC week, to be honest. Anyhow, I was obviously frustrated when I wrote this. I hope you at least liked it. Send me some love?

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