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Language:
English
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Published:
2014-03-10
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948
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1/1
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23
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3
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815

How many secrets can you keep?

Summary:

Post-Bryant Park filming.

Notes:

I’m not really sure where this came from (that’s a lie it came from listening to Arctic Monkeys’ Do I Wanna Know? 6 times daily for the past two weeks and if you haven’t listened to that song wHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING GO LISTEN), but, um. It’s mostly fluff.

Work Text:

They’ve only been back at the hotel for twenty minutes when Chris hears a short, familiar rapping on his door followed by a loud bang as Darren barges in, damp curls plastered to his forehead and arms full of pillows. He grins and skips over to the bed, dumping the pillows at Chris’s feet. Chris smiles his long-suffering oh, Darren smile, takes off his glasses, and deposits them on the night table beside him. “Hello, Darren.”
Darren grins back. “Hey, Chris. How’s it goin’?”

“Oh, you know. Can’t complain.” He pauses, wiggles his toes, winces. “Actually, scratch that. My feet are killing me.”

Darren groans, flops on the bed beside him. “Gosh, same. And my back aches, man.”

“The water pressure in these hotel showers is seriously lacking.”

“Seriously.” Darren rolls over into Chris’s side, hitching a leg over Chris’s hips and flinging an arm over his waist. He clips the open lid of Chris’s laptop and it wobbles precariously.

“Woah, down boy.” Chris uses one hand to steady the laptop, wrapping the other around Darren’s shoulders.

“Are you talking to me or the laptop?”

“What do you think?”

Darren scoffs and nuzzles into Chris’s neck. He makes a ridiculous low growling noise that has Chris laughing despite himself. Until he feels the soft brush of lips against the skin of his neck and goes still.

It’s not a kiss; there’s no movement, no sucking pressure. It’s just Darren smiling into his neck, but the twisting, knotting feeling in his stomach is familiar enough that Chris knows they’re treading on dangerous ground. At least, he is. This is pretty par for the course for Darren. Chris has seen him in similar positions with Chord, Joey, Lauren, Dianna, and Harry, to name a few. Darren’s a cuddly guy. But Chris has a boyfriend. And snuggling up with his male co-star (slash on-screen ex-boyfriend slash ex-whatever-they-were, once upon a time…less than boyfriends, more than friends with benefits, something that they never bothered to put a label on), no matter how innocently, doesn’t sit very well on Chris’s conscience. So he shifts slightly away and pretends not to see the flash of hurt in Darren’s eyes when he lifts his head up in surprise. It’s gone in a second, though, and then Darren is smiling again.

“Wanna watch Princess and the Frog?” he asks, kicking at the blanket at the end of the bed so it covers their feet.

“Are you five?”

“Aw, come on, Chris! It’s my go-to hotel room movie. Please?”

Chris glances at the blinking cursor at the top of the empty Word document he has open. “Well, I was going to try to get some work done…”

Darren pokes him in the ribs. “You’ve been working for the past twelve hours, dummy. And it’s like, four o’clock in the goddamn morning. I think you deserve a little break.”

“Jesus, is that what time it is? Why aren’t we sleeping.”

“Because we’re watching a Disney movie instead. Come on, I promise if you pass out I’ll make sure your laptop winds up safely on the floor. And I’ll try not to grope you in my sleep.”

Chris is already pulling up Netflix, only resisting in the first place because he finds Darren’s puppy dog eyes adorably hilarious, but he pauses at that. “I’m sorry, but did you just imply that you’ll be sleeping in here?”

Darren gives him a well, duh look. “I figured that was a given. You know, with the pillows and the jammies and…” He trails off, a small furrow appearing on his forehead. “That’s okay, right? Shit, I should have asked first. I’m-”

“Darren.” Chris rubs his back between his shoulder blades for a second and Darren sort of just slumps down, all tension melting away. “It’s fine. You just… caught me off guard, is all.”

Darren’s head lolls to the side and he peers up at Chris. “But we always do this. What’s changed?”

Chris sighs. He wonders if Darren is being deliberately obtuse. “Do I really have to say it? I have a boyfriend. You know that.”

Darren’s facial expression doesn’t change, but he does slide the hand that was flung so casually over Chris’s waist up so it’s resting on his chest. Right over his heart. “Do you love him?” he asks quietly.

Chris sighs again, softer this time. “No. Not yet, anyway.”

“Are you falling for him?”

Chris thinks about that. He thinks how easy the past couple months have been, how effortless, how simple. He thinks about how content he’s felt, and how that contentedness could almost be mistaken for happiness. He thinks about the last twelve hours, and how he’s laughed more and played more and felt more alive over the course of one night than he has in months. He thinks about the way Darren makes him feel, and fuck, the sheer volume of it is terrifying. It’s all excitement and passion and hopeless affection that’s damned near impossible to reign in. He feels drawn to him, always has. And that hasn’t gone away, no matter how much Chris has willed it to.

Darren is still waiting for his answer, patient as ever. Chris looks at him, messy curls and rosy cheeks and wide, honest eyes, and really, how is he supposed to handle any of this?

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “Maybe.”

Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.

He doesn’t say it, but Darren seems to understand anyway. His hand on Chris’s chest presses down for a moment, like he’s trying to leave a handprint. He burrows his face back into Chris’s neck. “Put the movie on, okay?”

“Okay.”