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“Hey!” Darren doesn’t knock, he never really knocks (at least, not when it comes to his brother). It doesn’t matter that Blaine is obviously in the middle of reading something—books are always there, books can wait. But this cannot. He bounces on the bed eagerly, startling Blaine out of whatever headspace he was in.
“Hi Darren,” Blaine says patiently, glancing at him before blocking him out with his book.
“I invited Chris and Kurt over.” He’s sure to press the name, watching as Blaine’s fingers tighten imperceptibly on his book. Not many people would notice, but Darren notices these things.
“Oh?” Blaine asks, voice considerably higher.
“Yep. I challenged them… Well, actually, I challenged Chris. They’re just sort of a package deal.” Darren grabs the model car from Blaine’s nightstand, beginning to flick the doors open and closed. That gets Blaine’s attention enough, and he sits up and carefully takes the car back from Darren.
“My cars aren’t toys,” he reminds Darren for, like, the bajillionth time. “Challenged Chris to what?”
“A snowman building contest.” Darren grins. “Two on two.”
“Us versus them?” Blaine’s voice has this forced aloofness to it, that makes Darren’s grin all the more devilish.
“Fuck that. It’s me and Chris against you and Kurt.”
It’s amazingly satisfying when Blaine drops his book.
*
“Twins of all shape, sizes, hair and eye colors, and sexualities.” Darren holds his hands up against his mouth, amplifying his voice across the nearly empty expanse of their backyard.
“Tactful,” Chris comments dryly, and Darren grins at him before recreating his makeshift hand-megaphone.
“Now begins the most epic snowman building contest of all time, a contest that will separate the men from the boys, the winners from the losers, the—” Something icy cold and wet explodes against his arm and he jerks to the side, turning his head to see Blaine giving him a look.
“Snowball,” Chris needlessly explains, and Darren watches as Kurt presses a hand over his smile and then Blaine smiles back at him. This could easily escalate into a war, but… Well, they’ve already scheduled a war and it is not of the snowball variety.
“So what do the winners get?” Kurt asks, tugging at the edge of his gloves.
“Uh…” Darren slides a glance over to Chris, who gives him a baffled, unknowing look before shrugging in response. “To be determined by the winner.”
“That sounds like it could end badly,” Blaine mutters, eyebrows furrowing, and Darren grins, big and broad.
“Or awesome.”
“Can we just start?” Chris shifts from foot to foot, rubbing at his arms through his coat, and Darren throws him a concerned glance.
“We’ve got this in the bag,” Kurt chimes around a catty grin. “Chris hates snow.”
“You hate snow?” Darren asks, offended by the very thought of it.
“No,” Chris hisses, glaring at Kurt, who is leaning towards Blaine to whisper something. “I just… Prefer the warm and the dry to the wet and the cold,” he explains away, waving his hand dismissively.
“Darren, are we starting?” Blaine cuts in, before Darren can pull anything else from Chris, and right, snowman contest. There’s always time to grill Chris later.
“Gentlemen, clear your hands of all and any snow!” Darren looks around, and then crouches down by the snow.
“What is he doing?” Kurt whispers.
“Ready?”
“Wait, is the winner decided by best or fastest?”
“Set?”
“And who exactly is judging?”
“Go!”
Darren is already balling snow up as fast as possible, even as he hears Blaine explain to Kurt that, sometimes, it’s better to just not ask questions.
“So what’s your hidden agenda with this one?” Chris asks, shoulder bumping Darren’s as he falls down in the snow beside him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Darren hums, pushing his snow together with what Chris has already (impressively) gathered. Darren can’t help but feel satisfied—they make a great team.
“Co-conspirator, remember?” Chris flicks some snow at Darren’s face. “Are we winning this to make them do something or are we throwing it?”
“Christopher, you do not know me if you think I’m throwing this competition.” Darren packs the snow together. “Like I would ever fucking lose, Blaine wouldn’t let me live that done for years.”
“…yeah, Kurt wouldn’t, either.”
They both look up, just in time to see their brothers brush hands on their own packed ice and then pull back in a hurry.
“Sometimes they are so cute and oblivious it makes me want to bash their heads together,” Chris monotones, and Darren laughs.
“That was my hidden agenda, oh-co-conspirator of mine.” Darren pushes the snow until the base starts to settle, and Chris glares at it. “You got that? I want to start the next part.”
“This isn’t anything like building snowmen happens in cartoons,” Chris mumbles. “And what was that you were saying?”
“You’ve never built a snowman?”
“Not the point, Dare, continue filling me in on your evil plan.”
“Like… Never?”
“Darren.” This time Chris chucks a bigger piece of snow at him, and Darren laughs.
“And it’s not evil, shut the fuck up.” Darren shuffles on his knees, deciding that Chris needs help and pushing what might have ended up being the head into the base. “It was just about them spending time together.”
There’s laughter, and the sharp call of, “Blaine!” and they both look over just in time to see Kurt hurl snow at Blaine before they both start laughing again.
Chris and Darren share a smile.
“You know, I don’t think I give you enough credit.” Chris goes back to focusing on the snowman.
“No, I don’t think you do,” Darren agrees easily, finally deeming the base as good as it’ll get and starting on the next part. He blinks, and then looks over at Chris. “Wait, about what?”
He can see Chris roll his eyes, pushing snow onto the pile that Darren has started gathering, and working the words over in his mouth.
“You’re good at this whole matchmaking thing.” Chris lifts one shoulder in a halfshrug, but Darren preens at the compliment even as Chris tries to dismiss it.
“Why thank you, I’ve watched Mulan a lot.”
Chris laugh comes abruptly, loud and short, before he swallows the sound back behind a smile.
“I can’t help but think you missed the actual plot of that movie.”
“No, the plot of that movie is—let’s get down to business, to defeat… THE HUNS.” Darren picks up one of the branches he plans to use for an arm, and thrusts it in front of him, and then laughs as Chris pushes him over into the snow.
“I walked right into that.”
“Did they—fuck!” Darren laughs as Chris drops a pile of snow on his chest. “Fuck, that is cold, you asshole.” He shakes it off, laughing, the shock of the chill running through him like energy and excitement. Chris steals the stick back, placing it by the rest of their designated supplies, and then levels Darren with an innocent look.
“Are you going to get serious about this, or are you going to let our brothers beat us?”
They both look over at Kurt and Blaine again, but this time the duo is watching them, heads bent close together. They look away, working quick to look distracted with their own (much smaller and shittier looking, in Darren’s opinion) snowman.
“That was weird,” Darren concludes. Chris’s eyebrows are drawn together and he nods, but they both let it go. After all, they have a snowman to finish and some asses to kick.
Darren’s thinking a victory dinner that they force Kurt and Blaine to cook for them,together, might just be in order.