There should be a tag devoted entirely to Colfer's scruffy domestic look.
The way Chris works with his drawn eyebrows, tongue sneaking out to wet his lips, eyes intent and very serious, and clicks, always clicks, of his fingers on the keyboard. Will walks by the office and sometimes he lingers in the doorway and shamelessly stares. Most of the time Chris doesn’t even notice but when he does, he gives Will an exasperated look.
“They are not cooperating,” he complains, or
“This is fucking dumb,” or
“Order dinner?”
But sometimes it’s “Come here.” And it’s like Will wasn’t going into his own office to skype with his sister or get some work done. No, instead he plops up next to Chris, if he’s on the couch, or sits on his lap if Chris is at the desk. He kisses those dry lips and ignores an angry meow or a sad bark, depending on which pet has decided to be Chris’ companion for the day (it’s never both, Will has almost convinced Chris that there are either (a) fights they don’t know about or (b) a schedule they haven’t figured out yet. Chris is pretty sure that whoever is there first calls dibs, but he’s not gonna stop Will from playing his little conspiracy game).
Once they even forget about the laptop and as Chris rolls them over, his leg hits it, hard, and it skids over to the desk, tilting precariously. Chris shrugs and dives back into the kiss. The laptop lives. Will comes so hard he thinks he might not.
Eventually, he does end up in his own office and actually sets out to write something, until in his peripheral vision he catches a movement. Chris, leaning against the door, looking at him with dark eyes.
Will is just a little bit tipsy when he stumbles over and blurts out, “Hey, you’re Chris, right?”
He gets a non-committal grunt and shrugs.
“You’re so drunk you’re not sure you’re Chris and having existential doubts or you’re just –um – not Chris and telling me to fuck off?”
This gets Will a raised eyebrow and a judgmental stare. “This is my first drink.”
“So you aren’t Chris then? Bummer,” Will slouches against the wall and ruefully stares at him. “What’s your name?”
“Chris.”
Will chokes on his drink and coughs, “Damn, man!”
---
“I thought you were, like, celebrity-hunting, or wanted to, I dunno, seduce me and then brag about it on the Internet -“
“He has trust issues.”
“Oh I’ve noticed.”
“And you’ve gotta like work around them if you wanna go somewhere with him and shit, like hell, dat boy just needs to get some –“
Chris blushes and hisses, “Will you two just stop talking about me like I’m not here?”
“But boo, that’s half the fun,” Ashley pinches his thigh. “Also I can only talk about you to this handsome boy in the backseat, anyone else - and my body’ll turn up somewhere in the canyon.”
Chris catches Will’s little laugh in the rearview mirror and rolls his eyes. “What makes you think there won’t be two bodies?”
They look at each other quickly and Chris bites his lip. How did I end up with these two as best friends? thinks Chris and laughs a little. Karma.
---
“I didn’t realize he was that Will!”
“How could you not, there’s only one Will, who hooked up with th –“
“Shut the fuck up!” Will’s blush is obvious even in the dim lights of the room.
“Oh no, I wanna know,” Chris scoots closer to Cam, ignoring looks Will’s shooting his way, “Tell me everything.”
“Okay! One night, when he was still dating that jackass –“
---
Will comes with raunchy stories and even raunchier friends. Chris almost ends up in the middle of one of those stories but Ashley rescues him just in time.
“Uh-huh, you don’t wanna go there.”
Drunk on rum and lust he doesn’t get it and foolishly tries to shake her hands off and return to the boy in question (who, as he later learns, is actually a very questionable boy).
For some reason Will is not there that night and Chris doesn’t notice or ask (he was handed his first glass the second he walked through the door) until it’s late and he can’t find him anywhere.
---
“I can probably catch you a gator for your birthday, bare-handed and all.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No, I said DON’T you dare.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Why aren’t you there?”
“Where?”
“Out there?”
“I’m tired.”
“Don’t you have to make up for all the time you spend working?”
“Nope, I’d rather stay on this weirdly smelling sofa.”
“Okay.”
Chris almost expects Will to go back to the party, having checked on him out of politeness but he surprises Chris and stays on the sofa with him until Ashley barges in, demanding to leave.
---
Chris knows they talk about him. On Sundays they get together for a brunch Ashley’s always wanted from him but never got and gossip about his latest quirk. Will sends him pictures of their cocktails and a vaguely inappropriate quotes from their conversation.
“ – someone to bang with that huge COCKtail of his - ”
“ – proud and loud, my neighbors – “
It makes absolutely no sense but it makes Chris laugh.
---
But then he falls in love.
---
“No, no, no, we’re not doing this, we are NOT doing this, we’re so not –“
“Chris, calm down –“
“Don’t tell me to calm down!”
“Chris, please,” it comes out shaky, and it surprises them both.
“Oh,” Chris sits heavily on the bed beside Will and tries to take his hand.
Will pulls away.
“I’m sorry. Talk. Let’s talk. Will…”
“Don’t you wanna pace some more? Stomp around? Slam doors?”
“Don’t be a bitch. I’m still sitting here, ain’t I?”
“You are.” Will sighs and repeats, “you are.”
---
It’s strange and unfamiliar, the intensity of feelings he develops for Will.
They listen to Will’s horrible rap music, lying in a rumpled bed in his shitty apartments in Ventura, and the neighbors bang at the wall. They get food poisoning from a burger place around the corner and take turns running to the bathroom.
On Will’s 30th birthday he exhausts his supply of age jokes but a chance probability of spending the next decade (and more) together warms Chris’ heart as he goes to sleep that night, curling into Will.
He also makes a habit of writing down all age jokes that come to his mind so that he can tease Will next year.
The best thing (the thing he was at the same time afraid of and wished for) is that next year happens, and the year after that and after that too.
---
“Hey, Will –“
“Huh?”
“I think I love you.”
“What?”
“I love you.”
Will blinks away the blurry Chris and stares at the real one, sitting propped up against the headboard. “Are you sleep-talking?”
A pillow lands on his head and he peeks from behind it, his heart beating loudly against his chest.
“Really?”
Tired eyes, spikey hair, Chris gives him a smile. “Really.”
The gates close and Will steps into the house, routinely throwing his keys in the bowl beside the door. Brian greets him, meowing loudly and rubbing once against his leg before stalking off.
He ties off his shoes, puts away groceries and walks into the bedroom to change when he notices that something's different.
Whenever Chris is writing, the house is eerily quiet with faint sounds of typing coming from the office upstairs. But it's not now. Will pads there, almost expecting to find Chris asleep, faceplanted into the keyboard, but he's not there.
Will carries out a thorough inspection of the house and only after skipping through all the rooms, he decides to check outside.
They've been playing with the idea of setting up a writing place on the terrace but never actually got around to it. Chris did though.
He dug out the table they had on the balcony of their (Will's heart still skips a bit) previous house and assembled it back and put pillows on a straw chair they already had outside.
Chris' eyebrow twitches when he hears the sound of the door sliding open but his eyes don't move away from the screen.
The sight would render Will speechless if he was even capable of such a thing.
Chris sits just right for the ray of sun to fall on his bare chest while the screen and his face are under the shade. His leg is folded under his thighs and his fingers type frantically. He looks ethereal, an illusive vision only for Will to see.
He pads softly towards Chris and wraps his arms around Chris' chest, presses a gentle kiss against his cheek. Chris leans into the touch and his eyes flicker to Will's.
Will meets his boyfriend's gaze earnestly and whispers, "You are beautiful, baby."
Chris gives him a tiny smile and Will withdraws, smiling back.
"See you at dinner time," Chris says to Will's retreating back.
"Yeah," grins over his shoulder Will.
When he slides the door close, the sound of typing has already resumed.
*
"What do you think?" asks Chris with a jerky nod at the pool and the terrace.
"You without your shirt? Awesome!" smirks Will.
Chris rolls his eyes and shoves a plate at Will.
"No, I mean, that's why we wanted a place with a big yard. To spend more time outside without prying eyes. Except for those of our neighbors."
Chris frowns.
"Yeah, I think I saw someone looking over the fence the other day when we - "
Chris' eyes widen. "Oh goodness, Will, tell me you're kidding."
Will pursues his lips before erupting into laughter. "Of course, I am," he says in between chuckles.
Chris hits his shoulder and flops down with a huff. "Idiot."
"The fence is too high and we've met them. They’re too old for that shit. They could hear us though," wiggles his eyebrows Will.
"Well, next time I'll stuff something in your mouth.”
Will perks up, "We should get matching gags."
Chris chokes. "That was not what I was talking about."
A/N: Oliver-Corey mention in the end is for kadamcanon. I know I promised you a fic with them, and I will write it :)
"You're going down," whispers Chris into Will's ear.
"You are," murmurs Will under his breath and opens the front door. "Come in, you guys, just in time," smiling at Oliver and Corey, he steps back, leaning into Chris, whose body is angled just right for Will's ass to press against his crotch.
The weight of Chris' hand on his hip is heavy and reassuring and home but his words are not. "Game on, sweetheart."
*
Brian and Cooper escaped to one of their hiding places after seeing the mayhem that was the kitchen. Everyone finally arrived and chips, drinks, glasses and game-stuff were being distributed with laughs and jokes and obnoxiousness that had come to be associated with their friends. Then the two groups retreated to the base camps which were specifically set up in different parts of the house.
Strategy, we've got to work out the strategy, was the babble of words that Will had woken him up with that morning.
It had all actually started last night. Chris came home after another long session with his accent coach, but instead of exhausted he was feeling exhilarated and playful. His hand quickly found its way under Will’s shirt and he pressed a soft kiss to the tendon that connected his shoulder and his head, savoring a soft surprised gasp that escaped his boyfriend's mouth.
"Chris Ninja Colfer, you've been lying to me about your middle name all. this. time," said Will and turning around, winded his arms around Chris' neck.
"William Lacy Sherrod, I adore your middle name even though it's as ridiculous as you are."
"I know you do," grinned Will and the conversation ceased for the next fifteen minutes it took them to reach the nearest wall while kissing and to come into each other's hands.
"I bet you won't be so fast tomorrow," teased Chris as Will reached for paper towels.
"Bet I'll still be faster than you," smirked Will and wiped the come from Chris' soft dick, taking him into his grip for a moment.
"You wish," retorted Chris and his fingers slid under Will's shirt, ghosting over his ribs for a moment. "Tickle war," he shrieked suddenly and dug his fingers into Will's sides in a very non-sexy way.
*
Will's half-hard most of the night. Chris corners him during breaks and food runs, in bathroom and in the kitchen, revving him into a constant haze of desire.
"How's that game going for you, huh?" Chris' hand cups him over the cloth, his voice deep in Will's ear, his movements insistent. This time, thinks Will, this time he won't leave me ha -
He hears a cheerful "see ya" and Chris' touch is like a ghost of Christmas Past.
"Fuck," he swears, head hitting the wall behind him.
*
It's the greatest sleepover and there are people bunking in almost every room. Will’s given out towels and extra pillows, made sure there is food for the pets and the guests, glared contemptibly at their closed bathroom door where glistening droplets of water are sure to be cascading down his naked boyfriend's body -
In the kitchen he splashes cold water on his face and decides that Chris has had enough of winner privilege and he could at least share the shower if not a mind-blowing orgasm. Turning the corner to his room, he is surprised to find the door closed. The water is not running anymore and Will’s mind makes up a hilarious image of Chris strutting stark naked, wide-eyed, with splashes of red on his face, his chest and a sinfully pink shiny tip of his cock jutting out against his hip, to shut the door.
When Will shoves the door open though, his jaw falls down.
Chris smiles at him lazily and spreads his legs invitingly, his dick half-hidden by the swift movements of his hand.
"Why are you still dressed?" he says in a rough voice and licks his lips. "Hurry up or I'm gonna finish without you."
In complete silence interrupted only by a slick slide of a cock and a hand, Will drops his clothes and crosses the distance to the bed in two big steps.
"You little minx," he mutters and dives down beside Chris, lapping at those droplets that collected in the hollow between Chris' daily defining abdominal muscles.
Chris arches from the bed, his hand slowing down to long loose strokes as his eyes focus on Will's mouth on his body. "You're an incurable tease, Colfer," informs him Will with astonishing reserve, "and now I'm gonna fuck you very hard for it."
Chris takes in Will's darkened eyes and red lips and moans, loud and coarse, "Please yes."
When they can get a night of uninterrupted sleep, they usually take time to explore and relearn some things about each other’s bodies that might have been forgotten in the course of their busy lives. Sometimes it's that spot under Chris' left collarbone - right where the arm and the body are connected - which gets neglected when they only have time for blowjobs and quick deep fucks with every inch of their bodies lined up against each other. Or sometimes it’s the way Will reacts to Chris' lips nipping at the skin around his naval that used to be Chris’ favorite part of Will’s body in the first few months of their relationship.
But after the night of merciless teasing and abrupt, cut short kisses, Will pours a small amount of lube into his palm and hiking Chris' legs up, rubs it over his perineum, fingers slipping inside.
"What happened to that hard fuck you promised me?" taunts Chris with a devilish smile, his breath hitching.
Will smirks and lets both his fingers slide inside to the very knuckles. Chris buckles and his legs fall further apart. Will gives him a moment to adjust but not enough for it to become too comfortable. He pulls his fingers out and slams them inside a few times, transfixed at the way Chris' hole greedily swallows them and barely paying attention to wanton curses Chris keeps uttering.
"Gonna fuck you so hard now," says Will, grabbing a pillow to put under Chris' ass.
Chris only arches his hips up and babbles, "Please, Will - fuck, fuck me as hard as you -"
Will pushes inside and quickly slides out and then thrusts back in, Chris' words becoming incomprehensible strings of more and faster and fuck. They are both so strung up that it doesn't take them much. Will's been on edge for so many hours and Chris is so responsive and attuned that they quickly reach a panting, frantic, stuttering point and with a breathless moan Will comes as Chris' eyes shut and a high soft squeal escapes his lips, his dick pulsing and spilling over his still moving hand.
Will sets Chris' legs on the bed carefully and slumps on his side, chest heaving. "Love you so much."
"Love you too," says Chris breathily and arches into Will's hand that's reached out to brush his bangs from his forehead. "I'm so glad we made the room next to this an office though. If our friends heard us we would never live it down," he adds in an after-thought, his eyes sliding gently over Will's flushed cheeks.
"Yeah," trails off Will pensively, staring off at a distance, "you know though," he rises on an elbow and his eyes focus on Chris, "I'm pretty sure if we dress quickly, we can still casually walk by Corey and Ollie's room and get some blackmail material for tomorrow."
Chris' eyes sparkle mischievously and in a second he's already on his feet rummaging through the underwear drawer, "You have the greatest ideas," he says and throws a clean pair of boxers at Will.
Summary: Birthday fun, dumb fights and lame jokes, NC-17
There are different ways to work out your frustration. Dumb fights is one of them.
"You look twelve."
"I hate your pants. They’re too bright."
"I wanted more color."
"Fuck your color."
"Fuck you bangs."
With a huff Chris whirs around and leaves the bathroom.
"You forgot your wand," yells Will at his boyfriend's indignant back.
"My wand is with me alright," says Chris, flipping him off.
Will slams the bathroom door shut before his lips stretch into a grin. The night's gonna be fun.
*
Chris is talking to Ashley and Oliver when from across the room he sees Will eyeing a bottle of gin. Muttering a half-assed excuse and not sparing his friends another glance, he stalks to his boyfriend and stares him down, until the man lifts his eyes at Chris.
“You know I hate your gin breath.”
Will rolls his eyes, “Gin doesn’t smell.”
“Yes, it does and it tastes horrible in your mouth.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Yes, it does,” insists Chris and grabbing the bottle, thrusts it into Cam’s hands, “Don’t let him drink it or face my wrath.”
Cam pushes it back to Chris, “I’m not getting dragged into another dumb fight,” he stands up and slaps Will’s shoulder. “Just fuck it out boys, bathroom’s over there,” he points to the corner of the room, “don’t wait ‘til you get home.” He leaves with a wink and a smack at Chris’ ass.
“Oh fuck it!” swears Chris and shoves the bottle at Will, “Drink you stupid gin, you ain't getting your filthy mouth anywhere near mine tonight,” and stomps off.
*
They are taking photos and suddenly Will has a lapful of drunk giggly Chris.
“Your wig is all wrong,” Chris whispers into his boyfriend’s deliciously sweaty neck, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
Will’s hand steadies him, gripping his waist, “Your hair is all wrong. And look at the camera, babe.”
Chris presses a quick kiss to Will’s temple and barely has time to make a proper face before a flash goes off.
*
Will corners him at the platform 9 ¾ as the party winds down. Chris is leaning against the wall, lazily drinking and occasionally participating in the discussion going on around him when Will places his arm on the wall beside Chris’ head and stares expectantly.
Chris blinks up at him hazily, “What, are we done already?”
Will shrugs with a mischievous glint in his eyes and murmurs, “Wanna ride your broom.”
Chris throws his head back and laughs. “You little shit.”
“Not so little,” Will wiggles his eyebrows and silences a chuckle with a press of his lips.
*
“I fucking hate it when we’re both so busy,” hisses Chris between kisses, shoving Will’s jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning his vest and shirt. “I despise it,” he punctuates each word with a nibble and drops on his knees, tugging Will’s pants down.
“Dumb fights are dumb tho –“ Will moans without finishing a sentence as Chris takes him into his mouth and sucks earnestly on the head before slipping off to make a point.
“It’s like you’re there, sleeping right beside me but not really there ‘cause I don’t get to see your smile,” he dips down and mouths at Will’s balls, licking a stripe from them to the tip of his dick, sinking back on it until he feels the pressure at his throat. But he still has shit to say so he slides off, letting his lips make a popping sound.
“And I hate those rare afternoons together because they seem like enough but they aren’t really,” he says, looking up at Will’s intent eyes, “and I really hate dumb fights, too, because they make us waste precious time when we can be doing this,” and his lips close around Will’s cock.
*
Chris loves Will’s body in all states, whether he’s sweaty and tight after working out or fresh out of shower, smelling like soap and relaxed. But his favorite one is when Will comes: his muscles strain, his breathes are short and then, almost suddenly, he becomes pliant and soft and blissed out, easy grin on his face shining down at Chris.
“Want me to give you a hand with your broom?” he asks breathily and Chris slaps his thigh, standing up.
“Just for that, no. You’ll have to settle for watching.”
“I can be down with that,” smirks Will.
“I bet you will,” mutters Chris, unbuckling his pants and slowly leaning forward to rut against his boyfriend’s dick. “I bet you will."
Summary: Will’s had a bad break up, it’s only naturally that he wants to drown his sorrows in (a) night(s) of wild casual sex. What he doesn’t know is that he’s hooking up with a guy Ashley’s been trying to set him up with for months.
A/N: So this is it. The end. Thanks so much to everyone who's read, who's waited, who left those lovely message in my askbox. <3 Enjoy :)
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / Epilogue
AO3
Chris settles down in the plushy chair, smiling at the host. Now that the book is out and the biggest chunk of promotion is over he can relax a little and maybe not think so hard about answering the questions (especially since he's rehearsed the answers to them too many times already).
They talk about the book, the looming end of Glee, his cat and it's so typical, with an occasional dirty joke until -
Really, he should have predicted it. This is the question she usually asks, she just cannot forgo his (or anyone else's) personal life in an interview. But Chris almost chokes on the the diet coke -
"Any hot gays in the wings? Ready to hump, and dump, and vamp?"
The cup is so fucking fascinating, how come I've never noticed it?
He's dodged that question lots of times. He's worked out a strategy where the question is so unlikely to spring that he doesn't really need to worry anymore. Didn't need to worry.
He knows his eyes are down for far too long and he’s blushing. But all he sees is a shocked Will when he returns home from work, tired and sweaty, just to learn that his boyfriend (even though lately this term has become so mundane that Chris considers changing the status, and surprisingly it doesn't scare him at all) has just announced to the world that -
"Yeah, there is some humping in the wings," jokes back Chris, lifting his eyes, daring.
"Ooh," he can see the surprise in her eyes. She obviously expected him to find a way out, like he usually does. "A hunky boyfriend who puts up with your schedule?" she asks without a usual snark, still a little off-balance.
Chris laughs because recently he's been the one putting up with the schedule, "Yeah, you can say that. Very hunky though," he replies proudly, tilting his head and putting on a dreamy expression.
"Good for you," she leans forward and pats his knee. He nods at her, indicating that it's fine, and they talk about the movie for a minute and then they are done.
Chris slumps in the chair, grinning. He can't believe he's just done it but it feels awesome. He can't wait for Will to get home.
*
"What did you do?" demands Will instead of his usual greeting, stomping into the bedroom. "My phone has been going off all night with very cryptic texts from our weird friends with all kinds of variations they could come up with congratulations on being hunky."
"Why do you think it was me?" Chris grins innocently, "Maybe they finally realized how fucking hunky you are."
"Oh shut up," sighs Will without any heat, taking off his pants and throwing them in the general direction of the chair. "On the weekend we're getting into the hot tub and soaking all day there. And we are not inviting anyone."
Chris looks at him sympathetically over glasses and says, "If you shower quickly, I might still have some energy for a blow job."
Will's eyes glint a little but quickly dim. "It's gonna sound terrible - anything but a bed with sleep in it doesn't sound too good. Even a blowjob. From you," he scrunches his face and heads to the bathroom.
Chris calls out, chuckling, "You know, it sounded like you were getting bjs from someone else, too."
Will doesn't even bother to reply but 15 minutes later he emerges from the bathroom in a towel, the lines of his face and his posture easier and relaxed but bags under his eyes nonetheless visible. He puts on pajamas and climbs into the bed next to Chris.
"Kiss me before I fall into a dreamless coma."
Chris puts his laptop away and slides down to close his lips over Will's mouth. It's nice and slow, and he can actually feel Will sagging underneath him, his body becoming one with the mattress, and when he pulls away, Will doesn't even open his eyes, turning onto his side and mumbling something that sounds like, "Luv ya, babe," but maybe Chris can only recognize it because that's what Will tells him every night.
*
Chris spends most of the night writing, and when he occasionally returns to the real world from the realm of his imagination, he listens to Will's calm breathing and it grounds him and dissipates the fear that he still feels sometimes.
He closes his laptop some time after four and wiggles into Will's arms that immediately wrap around him.
But what feels like a moment later he is woken up by a loud screech and something big flopping on the bed beside him.
"Fuck!" he hears Will mutter and almost feels his boyfriend's eyes boring into his face.
He feigns still being asleep, and it stretches for some time and finally Chris can't hold his grin anymore and with eyes still closed he lets out a chuckle.
Will straddles him and reaches a hand underneath his shirt but Chris is faster. He flips them and then he's the one hovering over Will, his hands trickling over the exposed skin where his shirt rode up
"I wanted to tickle punish you," breathes Will, smiling widely, wrapping his arms around Chris.
"I know," grins Chris, waiting patiently, staring at his boyfriend.
Will looks back, searching his eyes, undoubtedly, for any sign of regret or confusion. "You could have at least told me in advance," he says finally.
"I didn't plan on it."
Will's eyebrows shoot up, "Oh."
"It felt weird to lie and I couldn't bring myself to say somthing cryptic and -"
"I know," assures him Will. Chris smiles at him gratefully."You know I don't care about these things. It's your world, walk through it at your own speed."
"Thanks," Chris kisses his cheek and rolls off of him. "Sleep?" he asks hopefully, snuggling into Will's side.
"Breakfast in bed?" he counters.
"I sleep, you make breakfast," says Chris matter-of-factly, biting his lip to keep from smiling.
Will rolls his eyes and ruffles Chris' hair, tucking him into the blanket. "My sleeping beauty, I'm gonna wake you up with a kiss," and he dips down for a smooch.
"Ew," Chris pushes him away, "wake me up with a big omelette with bacon and tomatoes, please."
Will grins, "As you wish, your majesty," and slides off the bed, strutting out of the door.
Chris rolls onto Will's side of the bed, burying his face into his pillow and drags the blanket over his head, leaving only the top of his head sticking out. He feels giddy and light, and he lets little giggles escape and curls into the bed more. It smells like Will and home. His eyes close and he breathes in the familiar scent calmly, already imagining their weekend: leisuring around the house, making out in a hot tub and if he can possibly make a convincing argument of having sex there tonight even though their friends are probably going to barge in tomorrow and hang out in it. And he falls asleep, feeling incredibly happy.
Summary: Will’s had a bad break up, it’s only naturally that he wants to drown his sorrows in (a) night(s) of wild casual sex. What he doesn’t know is that he’s hooking up with a guy Ashley’s been trying to set him up with for months.
1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10
AO3
Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Will has never really believed it, but he finds out that it's true for cats. Suddenly Brian is nice to him and Will wonders what Chris made him do.
The other man just shrugs and says, "He does that sometimes."
Will eyes the cat warily and squats carefully, looking into his eyes. "I hope you aren't trying to play good and bad cop with me 'cause it wouldn't work." Brian simply stares back at him, unblinking. "Okay, whatever," dismisses him Will and follows Chris into the kitchen.
"You started talking about something in a car and got distracted - "
"Oh yeah," replies Chris and turns away from the fridge, bracing himself against it. "I was - um, I know it's sort of last minute but - do you wanna, like, go to Europe with me for New Years,” he says quickly. “And um, Ashley, and there are two more people -," he adds hastily, eyes pleading not to turn him down.
Will inhales shakily, "Yeah, yes, I'd like to."
"Oh, good," sighs Chris and gives him a toothy smile. "We can plan after we eat then, I've got some leftover Thai."
"Yes, good," replies Will, "sure," he adds and grinning at Chris goes to get plates.
*
"So what's up with you and Chris, man?" asks Cam as they settle at the table.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you've been mopey lately so I figured you two were having problems or something."
"I was not mopey."
"Yeah, you were," declares Cam, putting a straw into his milkshake. "Very break-up mopey."
"We're not dating," insists Will, biting into his cupcake.
"Sure you aren't," replies Cam calmly. "'Cause you're a scared little shit."
Will frowns, "Why's that?"
Cam sighs, “Okay, I’m gonna tell you a thing and I want you to really think about it. Why aren't you dating Chris? He's hot, he's smart, you like the same things and the sex is amazing."
Will plays with a sleeve of his jacket, "I'm not really looking for something serious."
"Bullshit."
"Okay,” tries again Will, “I don't think I've gotten over Steve."
"That's exactly why I said you're a scared little shit," points out Cam. "You're just afraid that it's not gonna work out."
Will shakes his head, "I am not. I'm just not ready."
Cam rolls his eyes, but Will pretends not to notice and continues, making his voice sound steady, "Also, being involved with Chris is gonna be hard as fuck. You know, like, he's famous, he's got crazy fans - "
"Like that would stop you.”
Will huffs, "I'm not scared. I'm being rational."
"You're being an idiot," mutters Cam.
*
"Christopher, honey, do you have any food at the house?"
"Yes, mom, I do. Don't worry," replies Chris off-handedly, eyes focused on the road. Getting to spend another day with his family was nice but Chris’s had a busy month and he's exhausted. He just wants to sleep for days and maybe get a blowjob from Will for all his hard work. It'd be awesome.
But instead they pile into his car and drive around and then stumble into his house, Brian greets them, swirling between Hannah's legs, asking her to feed him and completely ignoring Chris.
"So it's like that, huh?"
Brian turns his head at him, sparing a glance, before purring as Hannah's hand smooths rumpled fur on his back.
Karyn busies herself with making dinner while Chris takes a shower and changes into his pajamas. He is helping to lay the table when the bell rings and his father gets up to answer the door. Chris doesn't give it a second thought because the whole situation is so much like the one at home, and he's in that head space where he's a kid and his parents are the ones in charge.
When Tim returns to the living room, followed by Will, Chris' mouth falls open and he blinks. Will is holding a bag from Chris' favourite bakery and his eyes are frantically looking around until they halt at Chris. He smiles sheepishly
"This young man came to see you, son," says Tim formally and winks at Chris, before leaving the room instead of returning to his previous position on the couch.
"Oh my god," breathes out Chris, mortified.
"I'm - fuck, Chris, I didn't know your parents were still here," explains Will, stepping forward. "I thought, um," and he lifts the bag, looking away, unusually at a loss for words.
Chris waits for the fear, for the nerves to kick in - Will has met his parents, the man he lo - sleeps with regularly - has met his father and there is no way he can kick him out without properly introducing him to everyone else, this is too deep, he's getting too deep - but there is none. No fear. No nerves. He feels a speck of embarrassment because his dad obviously realized that a man showing up at his door at this hour is likely to be more than a friend.
So instead he listens for a moment if there are approaching footsteps but there are none so he steps forward and quickly kisses Will on the mouth, uncurling the man’s fingers from the bag. "I'll take it into the kitchen," he says softly and wraps his hand around Will's wrist, tugging him into the hall. He lets go of it right before they enter the kitchen but Will's smile is already wider and he charms his parents and Hannah in a oh my god, they probably like him more than me already.
Will talks, politely and openly, comments and compliments; he seems genuinely interested in Karyn's favourite cooking books and receipts, and when Chris throws him an inquiring look, Will shrugs and says that his sister talks a lot about that.
Hannah doesn't leave his side until she is so tired that she has to go to bed.
They keep chatting for some time, Will being an entertainer and an avid participant. Chris though has a really disturbing conversation with himself, worrying about where Will would sleep because if he were to go back to Ventura he should have left at least two hours ago.
Finally, his parents say it's time to retire for a day and Karyn pats Will's knee gently when she gets up and says, "See you in the morning, boys," before climbing up the stairs.
Chris feels Will's widening eyes at him. "Did she say boys? As in, plural from boy?"
"Yeah," replies Chris and tenses, "Why, do you have a prob -"
"No, no," Will quickly reassures him, "I was just - you know, thought that um, I'm going back to Ventura since - and, I mean, if you're comfortable -"
"I am," says Chris firmly.
"Okay."
They go upstairs with at least three feet between them and stubbornly keep this distance when they are brushing their teeth, trying to maneuver around the bathroom.
"We're like two boys confused about their sexuality at a high-school sleepover," comments Will as he slides off his pants.
"And when we finally lay down, still and afraid of taking a breath, our hands brush and we kiss shyly until we feel the forbidden desire and spring away, pretending nothing happened."
Will grins. "Had much experience?"
"No," huffs Chris, "I had a girlfriend in high school. Kissing seemed mundane and overrated. I won’t even mention hand-brushing."
Will reaches over to grab Chris' hand. "What about now? Does hand-holding make you think dirty?" he dips down and drop small kisses all over Chris' collarbone.
Chris slaps his bicep, "It makes me think about my parents three walls away, dumbass."
Will grabs him by the waist and throws him down on the bed. "Ouch!" exclaims Chris, and as hard as he tries he can't stifle his laugh that bubbles out of him.
He rises on the elbows and lets his legs fall slightly apart.
Will climbs onto the bed and leans over, knees between Chris'. His hands are bracketed around Chris' face and he presses his body down, sucking Chris' moan and his lips into his mouth.
Chris raises his hips and drags his hands over Will's white T-shirt and his dark green briefs before slipping under them and cupping his ass. Will groans and rubs against Chris' hip.
But then he rolls off and tugs the blankets from under Chris. "Your parents are three walls away, remember?"
Chris sighs and lets Will tuck them in. They lie facing each other, further away than usual, and Will purposefully drags the back of his hand against Chris’.
"Dork!" laughs Chris and crosses the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Will. "Good night.”
"Good night, baby," replies Will in his smiling voice.
*
Breathless, Will flops into his seat after pushing their carry-on bags into an overhead compartment, and grins at Chris. "Hey, you."
Chris rolls his eyes. "Hey."
He leans in, still a respectable and appropriate distance away, and says just above a whisper, in that deep rough voice "Wanna fuck in the bathroom?"
Chris gulps and his eyes are drawn to Will's tongue, darting out and licking his lips.
"Hey boooys," Ashley stops right beside them, breaking Chris' concentration. "Don't be too nice. We've got a long flight."
Will smirks at her, "We're always just the right amount of nice, and y'know it."
Ashley rolls her eyes and scoffs. "I'm gonna be watching you two."
"And you're probably gonna enjoy it," jokes Chris, putting a hand on Will's thigh for a show.
She stalks off and Chris quickly lifts off his hand, looking around. "Don't worry, no one was paying attention to us," reassures him Will.
Chris smiles tightly. "I don' t think I can stop worrying until we leave the continent and land in London - "
"And there's the royal police waiting with a limo to escort you to the Westminster Abbey to dine with your long lost family of great Indians -"
Chris bursts out laughing. "Yeah, right, we'll probably be waiting for our bags and then we'll be frantically looking for a car that's supposed to take us to the hotel,where we'll have to eat with other tired tourists like us."
"Or we can order room service," wiggles his eyebrows Will.
"Your mind is really in the gutter today."
"What can I say, you look supremely hot."
They talk some more before the usual travel-induced sleepiness takes over and they keep dozing off, trying to read and listen to music. Will can feel Chris' body relaxing against his as the number of miles grow on the screen that shows their plane's itinerary. They lift the handle between them and sit in what can be called an almost-snuggle because Chris still doesn't dare to lean in with his full weight.
Will looks out of the window (they have an arrangement, on their way back he's going to be the one with an aisle seat) and realizes that he's also feeling a little bit more free. As of December, 25, William Sherrod no longer has a job. He's got a writing thing lined up, with some friends who are thinking about doing web series and if he finishes the script he talked about to Robert in the next three months they can make it happen.
It's a new year and a new life. And a new continent. Will can't possibly be more excited about it than Chris (no one is more excited than Chris) but he feels invigorated and daring and -
"You're thinking so hard I woke up, Will," says Chris in that adorably sleepy voice of his.
"Doubt that. You probably decided you wanted a piece of that ass," says Will and wiggles in his seat.
Chris rolls his eyes and squeezes Will's hand. "Thanks for coming with me."
Will smiles widely at him and after his eyes dart around, leans down and quickly kisses Chris.
"Don't change the topic. So what about that ass?"
*
They start celebrating New Year's Eve way too early. It's hard not to when all of the Paris seems perpetually drunk and partying. Ashley has a friend who moved to France two years ago and he meets them on the 30th and drags them to a gay bar where they get buzzed and make out in the bathroom.
Seeing Chris so happy and so free does something to Will and his usually unwavering resolve. He feels bold: catching Chris' wrist and twirling him around before pressing his front to his back is easier when everyone around speaks the language none of them understand.
Back in the hotel room Chris covers his body with languid kisses and they fuck slowly, gasping into the night while people on the street sing Christmas songs and talk so loudly that they can hear them with a half of the window ajar.
They spend the day wandering and buying souvenirs for people at home, leaving a wine shop giggling and holding onto each other. When it gets dark the two of them sneak away from the group to the Eiffel Tower and kiss underneath like so many other people do. The place practically vibrates with love, and Will steps up to Chris, winding his arms around his waist. Chris places a hand on Will's cheek and softly kisses his mouth.
They are just one of many but it feels like they are the only ones in the world. Will pulls away, overwhelmed and can't make himself look into Chris' eyes. He tugs at his hand and they walk back to the hotel to get ready for tonight's festivities.
*
Will doesn't understand how anyone can not recognize Chris' profile, mask or no mask. Or maybe Will just knows Chris' body too well.
Their stay in Paris was relatively fan-free and Will thinks they can thank the holiday buzz for it. By the time the midnight rolls everyone around them is so drunk no one stands straight. They are not an exception. Chris' arms are bracketing him against the farthest and darkest part of the counter, and they quietly gaze at each other, whispering nonsense and exchanging eskimo kisses. The crowd cheers and starts counting.
Dix.
Neuf.
Huit.
"I want you," whispers Chris, pressing his half hard dick against Will's thigh.
Sept.
"Let's go back to the room after -"
Six.
" - the clock strikes."
Cinq.
"Hmm," responds Chris and licks his lips.
Quatre.
Will licks his.
Trois. People get louder.
Deux.
Chris sucks Will's lower lip into his mouth, hands digging into his waist.
Un.
The bar erupts into cheers.
*
Back in the hotel room they undress in a hurry, but their movements are sloppy and they end up falling across the bed laughing when Chris' jeans get stuck. Will's shirt is half-unbuttoned and he raises on his elbow to stare at Chris once the last chuckles are out of the way.
Chris surges up and captures his lips in a hot kiss. It's slower and this time they manage to get rid of the clothes, revelling at the uncovered skin.
"I want you so much," repeats Chris his words from earlier, frantically rutting against Will.
"I want you too," replies Will licking across his collarbone. "I want you all the time, I think about you all the time - god!" he moans, pressing his hips down and slotting their cocks against each other.
"I think about you all the time, too," Chris opens his eyes and looks into Will's. He sounds much more sober and serious when he says, "I don't know what to do about it. And I'm not sure if I want to do anything about it."
Will stops and tries to clear his brain from the alcohol haze to get to what Chris is saying.
"I like thinking about you all the time."
And Will takes a deep breath, gets ready and... "Date me."
Will hears Chris' sharp intake of breath before he replies quitely, "Okay."
They stare at each other for what feels like hours. And then Will lowers his head to press their mouths together again. They move deliberately and slowly, testing. Will wraps a hand around their cocks and starts jerking off. Chris' eyes never leave his face, intent and unreadable in the dark. He arches into Will's hand, thrusting and pulling him closer.
Will feels Chris' body tightening and his muscles tensing and he speeds up, bending down and licking into Chris' mouth. They come seconds later all over each other, breathing heavily and feeling light-headed.
The loud French words from outside reach his ears and he hears the fireworks blowing up somewhere in the city. Reality reappears. The room gets lighter, illuminated by the street light outside. Chris' hand finds his, buried somewhere in the sheet, and his fingers trace circles on his palm.
Will never needs to fill the silence with Chris but he knows he has to say it aloud, to make sure it's real, that it’s out there, that it’s true.
He rolls onto his side and gazes into Chris' eyes. "Bonne année, boyfriend," he says and it feels fake and tense and so obviously purposely. His heart skips a beat and he knows he must have imagined it -
"Happy New Year, boyfriend," murmurs Chris and dazes him with a toothy smile.
Will chuckles, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "We're so dumb," comments Chris, unfazed, and reaches for paper towels on the nightstand.
"We are," agrees Will and helps Chris clean them up. They kiss, sweet and familiar, and drag the blankets over them.
Tired from doing tourist things all day, from walking and from the emotional rollercoaster that this night has been Will falls asleep fast. He doesn't know if Chris stays awake as he sometimes does, musing and contemplating, but he never feels Chris' arms leave him.
In the morning Chris grins at him cheekily and throws a casual, "I can't eat my first breakfast of this year without my boyfriend, can I?"
And Will's eyes widen and the last drowsiness leaves him. "No you can't," he replies hurriedly and jumps into the shower, getting ready for their last day in Paris as boyfriends.
