Author's Note: Just a quick, unbetaed headcanon/drabble prompted by itsjustastateofmind on Tumblr. Behind the scenes of Chris and Darren filming the slushie scene from Glee 3x11 "Michael" and the aftermath. Shameless fluff. CrissColfer friendship on the verge of becoming something more.
"I really fucking hate you, you know that, right?" Darren mumbled, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet with nervous anticipation. It was just after midnight and one of those LA nights that seemed to get cold out of nowhere. Darren pulled the leather jacket the wardrobe staff had layered over a black cotton hoodie closed, shivering slightly as a draft blew through the desserted parking lot.
Chris chuckled, patting Darren on the shoulder. "You don't...you know you love me," he replied fondly.
"Not for much longer, enjoy my love while you had it, Colfer. You know how they say you never know what a good thing you had until it's gone? Totally true." The smile slowly slid from Darren's face as his anxiety grew. "Is getting slushied really as bad as everyone says it is? Or were you all just trying to freak me out?"
"I told you, Dare...it's like getting bitch slapped by an iceberg. Only colder."
"Buuut I'm already cold," Darren whined. "Why Chris? Why would you rat me out to Ryan like that?"
"Oh please, I think you'll live. Besides, it's sort of a Glee rite of passage."
"Then how come Amber's never been slushied?"
Chris laughed again. "Because she's smarter than you and managed to get out of it by ad-libbing a line about her weave."
"Is it too late to do that now?" Darren asked. "I'll get a weave if that's what it takes."
"Oh my god, you're ridiculous. And given that half of this episode's plotline revolves around you being half-blinded by a slushie, I don't think you're getting out of it. Besides, they're writing you out so you can go star on Broadway, Darren. It's hard to feel too sorry for you."
"But- but...I...don't..." Darren sputtered.
"Oh look, Grant's practicing on the dummy again," Chris interrupted. "Damn, he's got surprisingly good aim."
"Chr-iiiiiiiiiiis, I'm scared," Darren whimpered. "Don't make me do it."
"Ooh, too late love," Chris soothed, patting him on the back. "Looks like they are ready for us."
Darren walked slowly and dramatically to his camera mark as if walking to his own execution, Chris giggling madly the whole way. They quickly ran through the blocking and found their spots, and before they knew it, the director was calling action.
It all happened too fast for Darren to react, his mouth and eyes still halfway open despite each and every cast member having told him to make sure they were closed before the slushie hit. And fuck, if it didn't hurt every bit as much as Darren imagined being bitch slapped by an iceberg would, making the direction he'd been given to "sound like he was in incredible pain" surprisingly easy. While writhing in pain and screaming his head off, he felt Chris drop to his knees beside him, immediately stroking one hand across his arm while the other rubbed slow soothing circles on his back.
Applause broke out on set as the director called cut, the crew clearly excited that Grant had managed to properly aim the slushie so that reshoots wouldn't be needed. Darren was still dazed, his brain having short-circuited from the onslaught of cold, leaving him unable to move or react.
Chris slid his hand from Darren's arm to his face, wiping the sticky red liquid off Darren's cheeks. "You okay under there? Did you survive?"
"Mhhm, barely," Darren mumbled, his eyes still tightly closed as he swiped at a clump of slushie that was dripping from his hair into his eyes.
Chris pressed against Darren's shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back so that Darren's face was directly below Chris' own. Suddenly, Chris' hand was replaced with a warm towel which he used to continue cleaning the sticky red mess from Darren's face. "Geez, Grant got you good," he exclaimed, wiping slushie from behind Darren's ear.
"Mmm," Darren groaned appreciatively. "That towel's so warm."
Even through closed lids, Darren could feel Chris smiling down at him. "I know...I had the crew warm it up especially for you."
"Really?You're the best ever. You should start an official post-slushie rescue committee, you know that?"
Chris chuckled, running his fingers through Darren's hair and scratching lightly across Darren's scalp.
"Hmm, whatcha doin' Chris?" Darren asked. "Not that I'm complaining...Feels good."
Chris made a tssk noise. "I'm checking your head for lumps since you are clearly concussed. Post slushie rescue committee? Really Darren?"
"Yup...I'm gonna make you t-shirts and everything. It'll be awesome."
"So Darren?"
"Yeah Chris?"
"You planning on opening your eyes or getting up off the ground any time tonight?"
"Don't rush me... I've just been through a trauma," Darren admonished.
"I think you're just a cuddle whore who likes being taken care of," Chris responded with fondness.
"And there's that..." Darren admitted. He finally cracked one eye open, wincing comically.
"Ouchie...too bright. My eyes! Oh god, what if I really have been blinded by a slushie?" Darren exclaimed in a high pitched squeal.
"It would be the lamest way a person ever lost his sight, that's for sure," Chris snarked.
"Chris, you shouldn't joke at a time like this. I'm potentially blind."
"Oh, you'll be fine, you big baby. Your eyes are irritated from the red dye. A quick rinse out and some Visine and you'll be fine."
"But how am I going to do all of that if I can't see?" Darren pouted. "A blind person can't Visine their own eyes. I'll probably end up squirting Windex in my eyes by mistake and making it 100 times worse and then I really will be blind."
"Well, I happen to know that you look pretty good in an eyepatch. You could probably have a great future career playing pirates."
"Chr-iiiisssssssss," Darren whined.
"Okay okay, come on pirate. Let's get you to your trailer. I'll make sure you don't accidentally Windex your eyes," Chris sighed, sliding a hand behind Darren's head and forcing him to sit up.
"But how am I gonna get there? I seriously can't see anything."
"Darren, I know you are the size of a hobbit, but for the love of god, I am not CARRYING you to your trailer."
"Pretty please?"
"No."
"Pllleeeeeeease?"
"I will carry you to the golf cart. That's it. And we never speak of this again."
"Deal!"
Chris sighed wearily before helping Darren to his feet, half carrying, half dragging him to the golf cart with no small amount of effort. Once they both were seated, Darren immediately curled into Chris' side, resting his head against Chris' shoulder contentedly while Chris exchanged eye rolls with the PA tasked with driving them to Darren's trailer.
They rode in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cool night air and the exhaustion of a full day's work. Chris smiled as a thought occurred to him.
"Hey Dare?"
"Hmm?" Darren asked sleepily.
"I told you that you didn't hate me."
Darren chuckled. "True, I could never hate you."
"You totally love me," Chris replied confidently.
"It's possible," Darren said, suddenly serious.
Chris bent down to whisper in Darren's ear. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
Hope you enjoyed! If you'd like to review and let me know what you thought, that would be lovely. And there are many more fics and headcanons where this came from. Stop by my Tumblr (place-that-ive-been-dreaming-of (dot) tumblr (dot) com) and check out my Klaine and CrissColfer Fics Masterpost.