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Chris spends three months planning his thirtieth birthday party. He invites everyone: old friends, old co-stars, people he hasn't even talked to in years. He wants to be filled with a room of the people who made him who he is today, the good and the bad. He wants to celebrate how far he's come and he doesn't want to do it alone.
*
Darren actually has a reason not to attend. He's got an international flight set to go out that night. He remembers last year, the awkwardness at the premiere...
He doesn't find any relief in the idea of dancing around it though. The flight is easy enough to reschedule, and he tells himself it's just the reunion of old familiar faces he doesn't want to miss out on.
*
One of Darren's co-stars finds the invitation. She's sweet, the kind of friend he desperately needs, fighting the same kind of closeted battle Darren himself was a few years ago. He knows what people say when they hang out together but if he can help her out with a cover while she figures herself out, well, he's okay with that.
"Were you two a thing?" She asks, curiosity blatant. "If you don't mind me asking."
It catches Darren off guard. Hollywood has a short attention span. People don't really ask anymore, even after the picture last year. There's juicier gossip going on.
"Yeah," Darren says, then pauses to appreciate how the honesty feels rolling off his tongue. "It was complicated, though."
She just laughs. "Isn't it always?"
*
"You put a fucking amazing shindig on," Darren says.
Chris turns to him, bright eyed and already a little drunk. "You made it!"
They hug, because that's what the moment calls for, and maybe it lingers a little bit longer and tighter than it really needs to. "Of course," Darren says, and he gets an extra squeeze for it.
*
Just past one in the morning. The party has dwindled, and the afterparty is moving.
Darren hovers awkwardly near the door. He could call a ride for himself, but he's been having fun. He's not quite ready for it to end yet.
It doesn't even really have to do with Chris. Just, the whole gang - or the parts of the gang that are still on speaking terms. He's a sucker for nostalgia and this is the living embodiment.
"We're going back to my place," Chris says, singling Darren out with a look. "If you want to come."
"You sure?" Darren asks.
Chris nods. "I'm sure.
*
They cram together on a couch, pressed together from shoulder to hip to thigh.
The air smells thick like pot. A karaoke battle is happening in the cleared space in front of the television, and drinks as flowing freely.
It's easy for Darren's arm to settle over Chris's shoulder, easier still for Chris to lean into him. It's not at all like it used to be; they never would have done this before.
No one actually gives a fuck right now, though. No one is even giving them a second glance. Everyone in this room already knew, one way or another, despite the ridiculous lengths Chris and Darren went to in the past to keep this to themselves.
Maybe that's why Chris turns his head and whispers, "I miss you," while Amber belts out Queen a few feet away.
"Yeah." Darren's mouth twitches slightly. His fingers cup the ball of Chris's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin through the t-shirt he's wearing."I - yeah."
"We should..."
"Get together some time?"
"Yeah."
It's too close a moment, too real a sentiment. When Chris breathes in all he can smell is Darren and something dormant in him starts to spark to life.
*
Just before dawn people start to claim spots to sleep. The guest bedrooms are snapped up quickly, and someone's already asleep on the couch.
Heart in his throat, Chris says to Darren, "My bed's big enough. You can...." He leaves the rest unsaid, oddly intimidated by the words themselves.
"Oh." Darren looks slightly to the side. Chris feels the rejection before it lands. "I have a flight in like, five hours, man. It wouldn't be worth it."
"Right." Chris starts to take a step back, but Darren grabs him.
"But it's not..." Darren's tired and his mind feels foggy and he doesn't want to fuck this up. "I would, you know? But I have a flight."
"Okay." Chris isn't sure how much is genuine and how much is an excuse. He's not sure if he can trust it. Darren's always made him feel like that, off-kilter and unsure of where he stands. Maybe it's not good to only focus on what he misses. Maybe he needs to remember this part, too.
"I'll be gone for a couple weeks, but we should get dinner when I get back."
"Sure," Chris says, because in their circles making plans you don't intend to keep is practically synonymous with the kind of casual goodbye you offer with every parting.
He's sure he won't hear from Darren again, so he hugs him goodbye at the door and goes to get some sleep.
*
Two weeks later, Chris is coming out of a meeting when he sees a voicemail notification from Darren on his phone.