Work Text:
London is good. Chris stays there for six months. He writes three books, takes a role in a West End musical, travels more. He stays on after Kevin is gone, which is fine, since they barely saw each other the last couple of months anyway.
In the end he goes back home because he misses his cat and his dog and he has a book tour to get in order.
*
They only talk once in 2019.
It's on social media, a former cast-mate desperate for attention posting old photos. It's the kind of thing no one would have dared to share back in their heyday; Chris and Darren off in the corner on set, the only physical bridge between them Darren's hand cupping Chris's arm, drawing him in close.
It's an intimate moment caught between two people who didn't know they were being photographed. It's the look between them, eyes only for each other, little smiles.
Chris's notifications are a flood of fans, maybe not in the numbers they once were but still enthused by the trip down memory lane.
He gets a message from his assistant asking if he wants it removed.
He could. It would be easier. But he'd look like a diva for it, and sometimes removing the evidence is what actually makes it seem like evidence; if he leaves it, the talk will be louder but die away more quickly.
But he also figures it's not really just his decision to make.
*
Darren's on set when he gets the text from Chris. His emotional reaction flickers desperately through a number of responses just at seeing that name show up on his phone, so much so that he fumbles briefly to get the message open.
It's short and simple, with a link to the post.
His curiosity is even more piqued - and then the picture loads.
It's a little bit like being slapped across the face. He forgot - it's so weird, fucking weird, how he forgot the way looking at Chris used to make him feel.
He texts Chris back with a single: Wow.
Chris wants to know if he's okay with everyone seeing that.
Darren's out now. There's no shield. People will talk.
But what they'll be saying... well, it isn't untrue.
Darren asks Chris if he's okay with it being left up.
Chris says he is if Darren is.
*
The photo stays, and in their own ways they're both surprised by how fine they are with it.
It's a conscious decision they've made to not revisit the denial that ate them up before.
Chris thinks of what his four-years-past would have said. He'd have been horrified, Chris is sure; he wouldn't have ever understood being all right with anyone seeing that.
Has he mellowed? Maybe, or maybe the feedback he gets has. Maybe there's actually just less to be afraid of in the world.
*
Darren's the one that ups the game.
He reposts the picture with the caption, "Good times. Miss 'em." and tags Chris.
*
Chris waits a day and then replies, "Me too. :)"
*
Life moves quickly for Darren. He's not A-list yet but he's getting there. The roles come steadily now. He can be pickier. He embraces the fact that he's not being typecast as a high school student anymore.
He films three movies back to back, slipping between personas with ease. Some things don't change - they want him to sing, they want him to dance. But he gets to shoot big guns and he gets the girl (sometimes the boy) on the screen and he's happy, for the first time in his life, all by himself.