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Darren walked through his front door, threw his keys in the bowl labelled “For your KEYS, asshole!” and fell face first onto his worn leather couch. It had been a long fucking day… in a week of long fucking days. His body ached. It was worse than that time he’d slept in a bathtub every night for a month. European bathtubs aren’t as cosy as they first appeared and the amount of times he’d smacked his head against the tap… he was lucky he hadn’t gotten permanent brain damage.
Groaning, Darren shuffled around, trying to get comfortable. On the plus side he was now alone, lying down on something that could very well act as a bed (much better than a bathtub anyway) and there were no cameras or lights or large men waving around sticks with Chewbacca’s balls skewered on the end. The house was silent and dark.
He snuggled down into the comfy cushiness of the couch, making a silent promise to try and finish that couch-based love ballad that he had started writing with Benj, the night before the Tony Noms had been announced. So much whiskey had been had that night. Darren could still remember Mia’s look of judgement at 6am the next morning when she had let herself into the house, mumbling something about her favourite scarf, only to stop halfway to the bedroom having spotted her boyfriend and her friend, blinking blearily at her over the top of the couch (or, as Darren and Benj had dubbed it, Lady Brownie McCushington). Darren smiled at the memory. That been a great night.
He lay completely still, letting his body slowly wind down and unclench from the day. However the silence of his house started to unnerve him. To Darren, silence was such a rarity that he’d never really gotten used to it. Such was his lifestyle that he often had to grab sleep wherever and whenever he could. This meant he had fallen asleep in the middle of busy TV studios, with dozens of feet stomping around him and shouts to fix that “one fucking light” flying everywhere. He had also fallen asleep backstage at countless concerts and gigs, both his own and other’s. And when he had managed to squeeze some time in at home he would usually fall asleep in front of the TV or whilst listening to one of his favourite albums. Even at Mia’s he at least has the sound of her breathing next to him (she had whacked him pretty fucking hard the first and only time he had called what she did snoring).
The quiet was making him increasingly on-edge, like he was waiting for something to happen. He tried to distract himself, ignoring the silence and focusing instead on how warm and soft the cushions under his head were. But it didn’t work. He figured he could turn on the TV but for some reason he didn’t exactly feel like that. He was still kind of wired from work, his body buzzing with residual energy. The high he got from acting in front of a camera, while not quite as intense as the high he got when he was performing on a stage, was still pretty powerful and there was just enough of it bubbling under his skin to make him less than likely to fall asleep anyway.
What he wanted, Darren thought, was to talk to someone. Often the easiest way to siphon off that extra energy was to connect with someone else. Scrabbling for his phone that was still in in his back pocket, he ran through the list of people he could conceivably call in his head. It was after 12 so he knew a lot of people would be asleep or at least heading that way. He knew Mia was a bad choice as she had an early day tomorrow and had been fighting off the flu all week anyway so she probably needed the sleep. Flipping to his contact list he scrolled down, trying to pick out the night-owls and figure out which of those he actually wanted to speak to. Joey was always up for a chat but they’d spoken at length yesterday evening about his latest acting gig so he doubted there was anything there he needed to catch up on.
Then it hit him. Chris. He could call Chris. They hadn’t spoken for a while; none of their recent scenes had been together so they generally weren’t on set at the same times. Darren reckoned it was a safe bet that he was probably still awake, hopped up on all the caffeine he ingests on an hourly basis.
As he pressed the call button he pictured in his mind his cast-mate sitting at his desk just typing away like a machine, not faltering for a second. The boy was a dynamo. How he managed to keep churning out these award-winning books was a mystery to Darren, who had, in the past, struggled with the same three-minute song for ten straight years. It was nearly finished too, he thought happily, humming the tune under his breath.
“Hello?” a voice said, and Darren stopped humming. Taking the phone away from his ear he squinted at the screen. Had he dialled the wrong number because that definitely wasn’t Chris’ voice? The voice spoke again. “Hello, anyone there?”
Putting the phone back to his ear, Darren said, “Ah yes… um hi. This is Darren Criss… is Chris around?”
“Oh Darren. Hi! I’m Will, Chris’ – ”
“Chris’ boyfriend!” interrupted Darren, smiling widely, as though Will could actually see him. He was relieved. With the sheer amount of people in his phone he could have just as likely accidentally woken up a random executive producer for Fox or even Matt Dillon, who was a very lovely man who enjoyed his sleep and owned an impressive collection of hunting rifles. This was a much better outcome. “Fuck, of course you are! Will! Dude you spooked the hell out of me. I thought I’d accidentally dialled the President or something. Seriously I should clear out my phone a little. Or maybe I could hire someone to dial all the numbers for me so I don’t fuck it up. But anyway, Will it’s awesome to finally meet you. Well not meet per say but whatever, you know what I mean. How are you doing man?”
There was a silence on the other side. Darren wished he could see Will, because he wasn’t sure whether the silence was good or bad. He figured it was probably the same silence he often received from people on first meetings. Joey had told him once that it was a result of shock.
Luckily for Darren, shock wears off pretty quickly. The first thing Darren heard was laughter. “Well it seems Chris’ description of you was spot on,” Will finally said, chuckling lightly.
Darren smiled again. Yeah, Chris would have a pretty good handle on what he was like by now; with all the late nights and early mornings they’d shared due to filming and tours, Chris probably knew him as well as Mia or his Starkids did. “Well you know he IS a writer. They are pretty good at descriptions as a breed.”
More laughter, this time with a slightly fond tone to it. “You’re right about that. He notices more in a second than I could in a year. It’s one of his many talents.”
“Oh man I hear that. On set I often think he isn’t paying attention to the people around him, too busy writing down some new idea, but then suddenly he’ll jump into the conversation, saying something incredibly erudite and witty. It’s fucking weird man.”
“Yep. That’s my man. He’s the wittiest. It’s difficult to keep up with him sometimes but I guess the struggle is worth it.” Darren grinned. That was definite love he was hearing in Will’s voice. It was adorable.
“So Will,” said Darren wanting to learn a little more about his co-star’s significant other. “How are you man? How’s life?” He paused and then added, “Do you like music from the 50’s?”
There was another laugh. “Why the 50’s?”
“Because of the soul, man! Soul music was the ultimate gift to the world and in the 50’s and 60’s it really took off. Ray Charles, Chet Baker, Etta James, Sam Cooke… Sam fuckin’ Cooke. They were able to make music that was beautiful and catchy but that also encompassed the whole gamut of human emotions. Pain, sorrow, loss, joy, empowerment, love… They could make you feel it all just through the power of their voices.” He paused, unsure whether he should continue but in the end Darren always liked to be honest. “Man, you just sounded so… in love when you were talking about Chris that it made me think about those songs. What you said, well not just what you said, but how you said it - it reminded me of that epic lyricism that isn’t… that people can only attempt to emulate nowadays. Not that recent love songs are bad or anything, it’s just our way of expressing ourselves and our emotions have changed across the board. We feel uncomfortable really talking and singing from the heart, so love ballads now just don’t have that same punch, even if the feelings they’re referencing have remained exactly the same.”
There was another pause. “Wow. Chris wasn’t exaggerating.”
Darren faltered a little. Will hadn’t sounded insulted or anything but he knew that, for Chris at least, Darren’s enthusiasm and honesty occasionally made him feel a little uncomfortable. Although, Darren thought petulantly, he’d overheard enough conversations between Chris and Ash to know that the man could definitely tolerate a certain level of bluntness that would unnerve most people, especially when voiced in public. But then, he allowed, Ashley was Chris’ best friend so it was natural that he would feel more comfortable sharing more with her than with others, even his onscreen lover.
Will probably took his silence as offence because he rushed to explain. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean the words Chris uses to describe you most are intense and honest. I can really see that. Even at… 12:34am on a Thursday –actually I guess it’s Friday now.” Darren heard fabric rustling as Will shifted around. “It’s just a little odd. Most people don’t talk like that ever, let alone after midnight on a weekday.”
Darren chuckled. Yeah that was fair. He could get a little carried away sometimes. “Nah man it’s cool. I’ve found it usually takes people a while to get used to it. To me. And I’ve been told I can be quite annoying, particularly late at night when my roommates wanted to sleep but I just kept talking at them. Or singing. That happened a lot.”
“Soul music?”
“Actually it was usually Disney covers. There’s something about night-time that makes me want to play my favourite Disney tunes. I think it’s that whole fantasy vibe that I just naturally associate with the dark.”
It occurred to Darren then that he may have woken Will up and that’s why Chris hadn’t answered, because he was still asleep. Shit, he thought.
“Shit am I keeping you up? You were probably asleep and here I am talking your ear off like an asshole.”
“Hey no, Darren. It’s fine. I was up. I am kind of wondering why you called Chris now? I assume you wanted to talk to him about something and not to just share your love of soul music with the world?”
Darren could tell that the question was asked mostly in jest so he went with it. “Hey man that’s a worthy cause, don’t knock it.” Shifting onto his back, Darren threaded the arm he wasn’t holding the phone with behind his head. “But nah, there wasn’t a specific reason I was calling. To be completely honest man I just got home to an empty house and it was freaking me out a little. I don’t take being alone well. So I figured I’d just call up someone for a chat and Chris was one of the few people I know who is usually up this late on a week night.”
“Makes sense.”
“So where is the golden boy? And why are you hoarding his phone? Ran out of Candy Crush lives on your own cell?”
“You got me,” replied Will, the sound of a smile colouring his voice. “Actually Chris banned me from playing any of those iPhone games, he said I was addicted.”
Darren scoffed at that. Chris “12 Diet Cokes a day” Colfer telling someone they had an addiction? Even Alanis Morrisette would’ve been able to see the hypocrisy in that and she was, historically, not very good with recognising forms of irony.
Will heard him scoff and seemed to understand. “Yeah I know. But he did have a point. Too many lives bought and lost, my friend.” he said in a sorrowful tone. “Anyway you were asking where Chris is. Well he’s currently in the bathroom, showering off another day of grumbling at his desktop. Frankly I think we’ll both be happy when he goes back to shooting next week. I think he’s suffering from a bit of cabin fever.”
Darren nodded his head sleepily. “Yeah he and Lea have had like 7 days off in a row while us lowly high schoolers have still been dancing our asses off day in and day out. I’d be happy to trade off with him.” His tired muscles gave a particularly strong throb at that as though agreeing with his statement. “My ass has got multiple boot shaped bruises covering it from the dance routine today.”
“Hey, no spoilers!” reprimanded Will.
Darren laughed. “Sorry, sorry. My bad. I just reckon it would be nice to have a little bit of a break. I’ve got about a thousand different things I should be doing.”
“Anytime you want to switch places…” said Will, and this time it sounded like he was only partially joking but Darren didn’t know him well enough to know what that was about.
“Oh I see, you just want the chance to get your mack on with your man on camera,” replied Darren. Will laughed. “But yeah I get it. I’m lucky as shit to have this Glee gig. Doesn’t mean I can’t dream of a day when I can spend some time finishing my album. That baby has been on the backburner so long some of those songs must be older than Chris by now.”
“Hey, he isn’t that young!”
Suddenly a new voice entered the conversation, although this voice sounded further away and slightly muffled. “Who’s not that young? And why are you on my phone?” Darren could vaguely hear the sound of Chris moving around on the other end of the call.
Darren smirked and said, “Ooh did he just get out of the shower? Is he naked?”
“Your other boyfriend wants to know what you’re wearing, honey,” Will said, his voice slightly louder.
“Oh? Which one?” Chris responded, with what sounded like genuine curiosity colouring his voice. Darren then heard a ‘thwump’ sound and a high-pitched squeak.
“Watch it, Colfer,” Will said.
“Hey now, throwing pillows; I could report you for domestic abuse, Sherrod.”
“Yeah he totally could,” Darren added. “I’m a witness.”
“Great I’ve got both of you against me now.” Will sighed. “What’s that thing people say? Bros before hoes?”
Darren heard Chris’ voice shriek, “Did you just call me a hoe?!”
Darren shook his head. “He’s my co-worker. I would have to be fucking brain-dead to piss off a guy I regularly have to work up-close and personal with. He has both an in-depth knowledge of martial arts weaponry and a full-proof excuse to come within stabbing distance of my balls on a semi-regular basis. Sorry but I like those boys too much to risk them.”
“You are on my list, Darren Criss,” Will replied, his voice a little too light and mirth-ridden to carry the threat. He then added, “He doesn’t really need to stand that close. His throwing arm and aim are both pretty impressive.”
“That’s Darren? What does he want now?” Chris’ voice sounded even more muffled now, like he was further from the phone. “Is he drunk dialling again?”
“Oh I see how it is. Mr big shot author is too busy to talk to the lowly actor,” Darren said, sounding hurt, even though he knew Chris couldn’t actually hear him. “Will Sherrod, I offer you my sincerest apologies and I am so on your side from here on in.”
“Thank you, Darren, that’s mighty nice of you,” Will said, a faint southern drawl colouring his voice. That disappeared in the next second however when he raised his voice and addressed Chris again. “He was bored and figured you’d be the only person on his limited contact list crazy enough to still be awake.”
“Hey!” said Darren, and he heard Chris echo the word and tone on the other end of the line. “That’s it. You’re both pricks,” Darren added.
“Was I lying?”
“….not the point.”
“I’ll show you crazy!” Chris said. There was another ‘thwump’ sound, this one closer to the phone, and Darren heard Will grunt in pain.
“Hey now. If you two are getting frisky I can hang up. I don’t really want to listen to that.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Judging by his current expression there is slim chance I’ll be getting any tonight.”
“Bummer. Sorry man.”
“Why are you talking to MY co-worker about OUR sex life?”
“Anyway,” Will said, clearly ignoring Chris’ comment. “Do you want me to put Chris on the phone now?”
Darren paused and took stock of himself. He was actually feeling much more relaxed now, his body completely lax and loose on the couch cushions. His head in particular was feeling heavy and he could barely keep his eyes open anymore. Looks like his tiredness was catching up to him. The talk had done its job. “Actually I think I’m good. Thanks for the chat, Will. It was awesome.”
“No problem, Darren. You sure you don’t want to speak to Chris for a second?”
“Yeah I’m sure. Just make sure Chris brings you to set some time and introduces us properly. It’s only right that I meet the new guy.” Darren yawned loudly into the receiver. “But don’t forget I’ve been dating him much longer than you, so I’ve got seniority.”
“Uhuh whatever you say. Sounds like bedtime for you. Goodnight Darren.”
“Night, Will. Night Chris,” mumbled Darren, not even bothering to hang up before tossing his phone onto the coffee table next to his head, rolling over and slipping off into the world of unconscious, a happy smile gracing his features.
***
“What was that about?” asked Chris, tossing the towel he had been rubbing through his hair into the laundry basket across the room.
“Not really sure,” replied Will, straightening the rumpled pillow that had been thrown across the room twice now. When that was done he looked back up at the other man, watching as Chris turned off the main light and gently closed the door of their bedroom. It was a rule in their house that Brian wasn’t allowed to sleep with them on days when neither of them had to wake up early; this ensured that they both got to sleep in a little longer than they would have if the cat were given access to their unconscious forms at 4am, which is when he seemed to think breakfast should be served.
Chris collapsed on his side of the bed; face down, still-damp hair sticking up in all directions. Will smiled down at him. His boyfriend was pretty darn adorable. Chris mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow.
“What was that, babe?”
Chris turned his head to the side, facing towards Will. “I asked if you and him were friends now? Cause I don’t know how I feel about chaperoning play dates between the two of you.”
Will smiled and brushed a hand through Chris’ sticky-uppy hair. “I think it takes more than a five minute phone conversation to become friends with someone.”
“Not for Darren. If he catches even the scent of a potential kindred spirit, he will latch himself onto you for life.”
“You make him sound like a parasite.” Chris shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. Will returned the smirk. “Well you know us both. Do you think we’re kindred spirits?”
Chris was silent for a few seconds. “I think you, Will Sherrod are one of a kind. And I’m incredibly lucky I was able to meet you and latch myself onto you before someone else did.” Chris’ eyes were soft and so unbelievably gorgeous that Will could have sat there for hours staring into them. “But I do think you and Darren share similar dispositions. As well as certain puppy-like qualities.” Will pulled on one of Chris hairs a little too much and Chris winced. “Again with the abuse,” he sighed.
“You should know better by now than to call me a puppy! I told you I’m an otter.”
Chris blinked up at him. “I thought you said I was the otter?”
“Of course I did. You’re my mate! It would be considered bestiality otherwise.”
Chris snorted. “Of course. What was I thinking?” He settled down again, his arms curling around the edge of his pillow. “Five whole minutes huh? What did you guys talk about? I understand that the first three minutes were probably about how awesome and brilliant I am but what did you talk about after that?”
“Cute.” Switching off the bedside lamp, Will slid down into the bed and turned on his side so his body was facing Chris’. “He said he wanted you to bring me to set with you next week. Says he wants you to introduce us properly.”
“Oh god. Having you both loose on the set? I don’t know if the fake bricks and painted-on doors will hold up against that kind of treatment.”
“Are you calling me a safety hazard?”
“Only when you’re nervous and or horny.”
“That was one time! And I did not mean to put my knee there.”
“Well you did and it was less of a “putting” and more of a “kicking”. Poor thing couldn’t stand up straight for a week.”
Will grinned cheekily: their eyes having adjusted just enough for Chris to be able to see it.
Will shifted his body closer to his shower-warmed boyfriend, pulling the covers up and over them both. “Luckily it had someone around to lend a hand in its rehabilitation. A hand and a mouth and an – ”
“Ok yes Romeo you were very instrumental in my continued ability to achieve a full erection, quit patting yourself on the back. You were the one that injured me in the first place.”
Will could just make out the blush staining those pale cheeks when he said the word erection. He hoped Chris never lost that innocence of his; it was surprisingly sexy. But then again Will had the bad habit of finding everything his boyfriend did sexy. Like that yawn he just made. And the way he scratched his nose. And the way he scrunched up his forehead when he was trying to turn off his brain so he could sleep.
Chris, his eyes closed and voice already slightly sleep-rough, said, “Creep. Quit staring.”
“How do you always know?”
“Magic.” He cracked his eyes open a little and stared back at Will. “Alright, what are you thinking about?”
Will’s eyes continued to trace the darkened contours of Chris’ face. “Fifties Soul,” he said.
Chris huffed out a breath in fond irritation. He pushed himself forward suddenly and brought his lips to Will’s. It was no more than a firm, slightly minty press of lip on lip but it warmed them both and left them a little short of breath when Chris pulled away again a moment later.
Turning over, so his back was facing Will, and reaching his arm behind him to drag his boyfriend’s body closer to his, Chris mumbled under his breath, “Fucking Darren Criss and his obsession with Soul Music. Every fucking time.”