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“So what are you two planning to do?” Kurt asks from where he’s leaning on the kitchen counter, and Chris fidgets on his barstool. He stares rather intently at his soda can, and not at his brother, tipping the tab back and forth. This is one of those times when Darren should really, really take one of his super atomic fast showers.
“I think Darren said something about Mario Kart.” The aluminum creaks under his finger’s attention. “He’s under this strange delusion that he can beat me,” Chris snorts, indelicately.
“Video games?” Kurt sounds thoroughly unimpressed. “You guys are going to play video games?”
Chris continues to stare down at his Diet Coke.
“We might watch a movie later—”
“That’s what you guys did when you weren’t dating.”
He finally looks up, glancing at Kurt warily. Chris wishes there was a wall behind him, so he could thunk his head against it. But he keeps his head bowed low, tugging at the cardigan he’s wearing and keeping his shoulders a little hunched.
“Yeah, and what are you and Blaine doing? Going to a restaurant? Pretty sure you did the same things with Blaine before you guys were dating, too.” Chris knows he’s getting defensive, but it’s not his fault. He’d expected Kurt to be happy for him that this all happened, and… Okay, they hadn’t gone about it the right way at all. But Chris and Darren had both agreed it was something they wanted to keep just theirs for awhile.
Chris wishes that time period had lasted longer, now.
Kurt has been ridiculously critical of them since finding out—always wanting to know where Chris is going, what they’re doing, and asking Chris a hundred-and-one questions about him and Darren. It’s exhausting, and frustrating, and it’s a little surprising that Chris hasn’t tried to throttle his twin yet.
Rolling his shoulders back, Kurt stands up completely. He’s not taller than Chris, but he looks it sometimes—his posture is better, and he styles his hair higher than Chris has the attention span to. But he doesn’t intimidate Chris the way he does other people.
“That’s different,” Kurt starts, crossing his arms. “Blaine and I—”
“What?” Blaine walks through the doorway into the kitchen right at that moment, fingers working dexterously at the bow tie around his throat. “You and I what?”
And Kurt’s entire demeanor shifts, and Chris is grateful for it. He’s fucking tired of this battling, and at least when Blaine is around, Kurt has something to distract his attention.
“Compliment each other wonderfully.” Kurt’s practically gushing, and Chris rolls his eyes, picking up his soda and sipping it. “Can I help?”
“I know how to tie a bow tie.”
“I know that, I just… Like doing it for you.”
Chris makes a mental note that if he and Darren ever get like that, Darren has permission to whack him in the face with a Nerf gun. He tunes out of the rest of their conversation, shaking his soda can and sighing forlornly at how little is left. He tips his head back, to get the last dregs, and then hears a gasp.
“What is that?”
God fucking dammit.
He nearly chokes on his soda, swallowing it down as his eyes water. Chris turns to glare at Kurt, and conveniently also closes his hand over the underside of his jaw.
“A little warning next time, Kurt? I almost choked.”
“You have a hickey,” Kurt hisses, like it’s the most scandalous thing he’s ever heard of. Which it sort of is—the only thing Kurt takes more pride in than his skin is his wardrobe, and he’d probably rip apart his favorite Marc Jacobs scarf before marring his complexion. But it’s more than that, because Chris knows that his brother’s relationship is loving and blossoming. But it hasn’t really progressed past making out.
Chris thinks, for a moment, that Blaine must be just as eager to take things slowly, or otherwise completely lacks his own brother’s enthusiasm. Sometimes Chris thinks he needs to spray Darren with water to get him to stop—not that he’s particularly complaining.
And not that he and Darren are incredibly far along in their own sexual endeavors—this is the first hickey Chris has actually been able to see, and he’d only minded because Kurt has been a fucking guard dog lately. Chris had almost worn a scarf, but he’d thought that would be too suspicious, and it’s small and in a strange enough spot that it isn’t even all that visible until Chris is extending his neck and head back.
He’s going to have to invest in concealer, isn’t he? Dammit.
For a moment, he contemplates denying it, because what is Kurt going to do? Inspect him?
…actually, he probably would. And, really, what does Chris have to be ashamed of?
“So?”
“So?” Kurt is staring at him, a reflection of Chris’s own face stretched in surprise, disbelief, and maybe a little bit of terror.
“Kurt—” Blaine starts, setting a hand on his arm, but Kurt bats him away. Chris shoots Blaine a thankful smile, because he’s been trying, and been good about it, too.
“…you and Darren aren’t having sex, are you?” Kurt asks, eyes wide.
Chris’s mouth falls open, and he’s absolutely wordless.
“Kurt!” Blaine admonishes, and Kurt at least looks a little sheepish for a moment.
“He’s my brother, Blaine, and Darren is a great guy, but they haven’t been seeing each other for more than a month, don’t you think that’s a little fast?”
“I don’t think it’s our place—”
“Not our place? They butt into our relationship every inch of the way! And Chris is my brother, and I am not going to let him just throw himself around like that.”
“Excuse me!” Chris balls his hands into fists, feeling anger prickle under his skin. “What the fuck, Kurt? It’s just a hickey. For your information, Darren and I aren’t having sex. And if we do, it’s none of yours or Blaine’s business. Just like I don’t particularly want to know when you both…” His steam runs out, and he gestures awkwardly between them.
It’s one thing to talk about his own sex life, and horrifying enough, at that. It’s another to start on his brother’s—there are lines Chris does not plan on crossing.
Blaine is soothing his hands up and down Kurt’s arms and back, and he still looks strangely furious. And Chris doesn’t get it, at all.
“Do you have a problem with Darren?” It’s the only thing Chris can think of, and it hurts. Chris can see the shock register on Blaine’s own face, which means it isn’t something they’ve discussed—and Chris really does not want to put that sort of thing between them. But Kurt is his brother, and Chris loves him, and values his opinion to an extent. And he’d thought that Kurt had wanted this for him—wanted Chris to get his happy ending.
“No, I—no.” Kurt at least sounds and looks earnest.
“…should I go?” Blaine asks, quietly, and Chris hates himself for a moment. He watches as Kurt grasps firmly at Blaine’s hand, and then smiles tightly.
“No.” Kurt shakes his head, and then looks back at Chris. “That’s not it at all, okay?” But the look Kurt gives him is one Chris recognizes—it means not right now and not right here. They both have dates ahead of them, and this is not the way to go into them.
And because he has the worst timing in human history, Darren waltzes into the kitchen at that moment, and Chris’s eyes go to him like he can’t help it—he’s had to, for so many months now, it’s great that he doesn’t have to pretend to be looking somewhere else anymore.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Darren greets him, with a bright, happy smile. His hair is wet and curling against his temples, and the sight of him still makes Chris’s heart get all wiggly and fluttery. Screw his brother right now—if Chris wants to talk about this later, they’ll talk about it later. But this whole thing with Darren is new, and he is not going to let Kurt get down on him for it.
And then Darren’s there, ducking in like he’s going to kiss Chris on the cheek. Except then he’s tilting Chris’s chin up, and his mouth drops to suck on where Chris’s hickey is.
Chris gasps, because he can’t help it, and someone might say, “gross” (probably Kurt). Darren bites down, once, and then pulls away, smirking darkly at Chris before glancing over his shoulder.
“You two are still here? Don’t you have a date?”
Kurt is giving Darren a death glare, and Chris sends one right back, because seriously?
Then again, he hadn’t really anticipated on Darren coming in and starting to suck on his neck. He really hopes he never sees Kurt and Blaine doing something like that, because weird.
“We were just leaving,” Kurt replies, stilted, and gives a tug on Blaine’s hand so they start heading down the hall.
“Have fun!” Blaine calls behind him, and then there’s a thwack noise. Kurt must be really worked up if he’s resorted to smacking.
“Was that really necessary?” Chris asks, his smile fondly exasperated. Darren blinks at him innocently, and then steps closer, setting his wrists on Chris’s shoulders.
“Um, yeah, it was.” He reaches up, and presses two fingers against the mark. “It’s starting to fade.”
“God forbid,” Chris mutters, rolling his eyes.
“I like seeing it on you.” Darren shuffles closer. “I like knowing I put it there.”
“Well.” Chris swallows, his throat feeling dry. He was absolutely serious about the spray bottle thing. “Kurt saw it, so I guess you have free hickey-giving reign, now.”
“Really?” Darren’s eyes spark with excitement, his voice dropping lower.
“Weren’t we going to play Mario Kart?”
“Yes!” Darren doesn’t pop away, though. “And after I win, hickeys.”
“You mean after I win.”
“Hey, there are going to be hickeys either way.”