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CrissColfer: Rom-Com Cliché

(A/N: Two years ago, I wrote a little fic called “Senior Bastard” for @radiantelester --also, you keep changing your url AND I KEEP LOSING TRACK OF YOU-- ‘cause we were in a sort of competition over who could give the other one more CC feels. Then last year, for Tk’s birthday, I wrote a sorta sequel to that fic called “Seven Minutes”, and now, I bring you the conclusion to that tiny ‘verse I started! I wanted to give up on it simply because writing has been difficult for me lately, but the wonderful @imsuchalady kept me motivated for the last few months, so I’m dedicating this to you! And thank you for your kind words about these silly drabbles! I hope this suffices!)

High school!CrissColfer (Darren’s a senior while Chris is a freshman). After the party they went to together, Chris has been avoiding Darren and Darren wants to find out why. PG-13.

[Also on AO3]

Chris hates Darren.

He hates Darren so much that the fact that he hates Darren somehow only manages to piss him off.

When he first met Darren, Chris also hated him--because Darren seemed to have everyone on the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even realize it. He hated Darren because Darren could get away wearing tennis shoes as part of his uniform while Chris was stuck with a fucking vest.

Then they somehow became friends--and really, he still hasn’t figured out how that happened, how did that even happen?--and Chris, well, he liked Darren. Darren was nice and charismatic and he just oozed happiness, so Chris really had little choice in the matter. He has been convinced that Darren used some sort of hypnosis on him so that they could be friends, but he has yet to find physical evidence to support that theory.

And now Chris hates his asshole-ish best friend again and he’s come full circle and he can’t help but be disappointed in himself.

He makes himself feel better by thinking that everything is Darren’s fault. If Darren hadn’t invited him to that stupid party where they played spin the bottle, and if they hadn’t gone into a closet to play seven minutes in heaven, and if they hadn’t spent all of those seven minutes telling each other dumb jokes, and if Darren hadn’t run his hands through Chris’ hair to make it look, like they had been making out, Chris wouldn’t have realized he had a fucking crush on Darren and he wouldn’t hate him now.

So really, everything is Darren’s fault.

*

Darren knows he did something to screw up his friendship with Chris. He just doesn’t know what. The last time they properly talked was at Blake’s party, and Chris seemed fine when they each went back home for the weekend. Even on Monday, Chris was talking to him and smiling at the jokes he told (after doing some serious bad-joke research, just to remember the amazing time they’d had inside the even-minutes-in-heaven closet), but then Tuesday came along and Chris... suddenly wouldn’t even turn to look at him.

It’s not like Darren hasn’t, like, tried to talk to him. He’s sent Chris texts and emails, he’s tried to catch him after classes--Chris always rushes away, saying he’s too busy--and he even thought about poking him on Facebook, but he knows Chris rarely goes on Facebook.

“It’s too time-consuming!” he’d once told a gasping Darren. “You go in to check your notifications and then you’re congratulating a cousin you never talk to because apparently she just came back from Korea after studying abroad an entire semester!”

(Darren understands him, though, he’s wasted a few too many hours seeing what his friends from middle school have been up to lately.)

How is he supposed to ask his best friend why he’s been avoiding him if Chris keeps... well, avoiding him? Going to his room and knocking until Chris opens the door seems a little too stalker-ish, and the last thing Darren wants is to scare him off even more.

After all, he was kind of hoping that he and Chris... well, that they could become something more than friends. That’s one of the reasons he invited him to Blake’s party, ‘cause sometimes those things happened at parties, right? Not that he’d ever gotten together with someone at a party, but he could hope, right? He thought it might be a good idea, it couldn’t hurt to try. And then the stupid spin the bottle thing happened, and then the stupid seven seconds in heaven thing happened, and Chris wanted them to remain just friends and Darren was okay with that, he’s still okay with that! He adores Chris so much that he would never do anything to purposefully jeopardize what they have now.

But now Chris isn’t talking to him anyway, so what is he supposed to do?

Maybe... maybe he’s gotta do something drastic to get an answer out of his best friend.

Or, at least, as drastic as Darren can get.

*

When Chris goes back to his dorm room after his last period, he finds it blocked.

By a sleeping Darren.

Darren is hunched over, legs crossed underneath him, softly snoring. His guitar is laid out next to him, and Chris would be surprised that it hasn’t been stolen if it weren’t Darren’s guitar he’s talking about.

He looks so... cute when he’s sleeping, like even if he’s not conscious, he’s got nothing to worry about. Like he knows for a fact that no one will hurt him, even when he can’t defend himself. The majority of Chris’ brain wants to hug him and kiss the top of his head and sit down to sleep next to him, and the other, teeny tiny, itty bitty, rational part of his brain wants to slap him, screaming SNAP OUT OF THIS, YOU IDIOT!

Chris is already figuring out a plan that involves opening his door without waking Darren up when Darren suddenly stirs awake, blinking the sleep off his eyes and covering a yawn with his hand.

Chris really wants to kiss him.

He also wants to slap himself, though, so he’d rather not listen to any part of his brain right now. Both options seem catastrophic in the long run.

“Oh, hey!” Darren says, jumping up to his feet. He quickly rubs his eyes and blinks a few times, then focuses his gaze on Chris. Oh, god, his eyes are beautiful, how come Chris didn’t notice how beautiful his eyes were before?

You’re starting to deserve that slap, he chides himself, so he stares at the space between Darren’s eyes to focus.

“Hey,” Chris says, unable to think of anything more witty. “W-what are you doing here?”

Oh, great, now you’re stammering.

“I, um, I wanted to talk to you,” Darren says. “So I skipped fourth period and came here instead.”

For a second, Chris feels his old, pre-crush-on-Darren self coming back. “Why did you skip fourth period?” Not that he wouldn’t like to skip a period with Darren or anything, but with the way Darren’s grades are right now, he’s got no business skipping anything.

“I could never get a hold of you after classes,” his best friend responds. “So I thought I should probably wait for you.

Chris looks at the forgotten guitar on the floor. “Why were you asleep?”

“Oh, um, ‘cause I didn’t really sleep that well last night?” Darren answers, and then he’s laughing nervously and Chris should really, really slap himself, because otherwise he’s going to reach out and kiss Darren. “So, um, hey, you, uh, are you busy? I mean, can we, like, talk?”

Well, he’s out of choices at this point, isn’t he?

“Sure,” he says, and Darren steps aside so that Chris can open the door to his room. He goes inside and Darren follows him, and Chris doesn’t even have to ask him to close the door before Darren does. There’s a small pause where they just look at each other, and Darren laughs nervously again. Chris can only smile in response.

“So, uh,” Darren begins, clearing his throat. “I just, um--”

“I know why you’re here,” Chris says before he can stop himself. It’s no wonder, really, given that he’s ignored Darren’s numerous texts and emails. Darren seems surprised by this.

“You... do?”

Chris nods, just a little. “I’m...” He swallows, fearing the words will get stuck in his throat. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Darren asks him immediately. Chris has to stop himself from rolling his eyes because of course this is Darren’s first concern.

Well, for starters, you didn’t kiss me at Blake’s party, Chris thinks, then shakes his head.It’s actually not Darren’s fault that his crush only manifested itself after their seven minutes in heaven were up.

When he looks back at Darren to tell him that no, he didn’t do anything wrong, he’s stupidly perfect, Darren’s looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his lips parted.

“Did... did you want me to kiss you?”

It’s only then that Chris realizes he was thinking out loud.

Of. Fucking. Course.

“N-n-n-no, no, no, I-I-I didn’t--I-I mean...” Chris’ entire face flushes a deep red, and he even feels his ears go red,like they do whenever he blushes, and he wants to grab his pillow and cover his face with it. “I didn’t mean to say that, I mean, okay, m-maybe, but I didn’t want you to hear it, I... I...”

He opts to cover his face with his hands, though he guesses it won’t do him much good now.

“But...” He can’t see what Darren’s doing, but he can hear him breathing, he’s so loud. “You said you didn’t want--”

“I know,” Chris replies. “I know, I know, and I didn’t!” He uncovers his face, keeping his hands at the sides of his head, just in case he needs to cover his eyes again anytime soon. “I mean, I didn’t want you to kiss me then, when we were in the closet and everyone expected us to do it. And then we started telling horrible jokes and it was fun, you know, and I was fine with all of it! I liked that! But then you...”

He tugs at the edge of his vest, pulling it down just because he needs to find something else to do with his hands. Darren took a seat at the edge of Chris’ bed at some point, so now Chris feels ridiculous simply standing in the middle of his room while Darren watches him have some sort of breakdown.

“But then your hands were in my hair,” he says, blushing even more. “And then on my face, and... I don’t know, as soon as we stepped out of the closet, I wanted to have our seven minutes in heaven back. And suddenly I wanted to know what kissing you was like, and all of this sounds incredibly stupid so I’m just going to...”

Chris wraps his arms around himself, deciding to shut up after all of his blabbering, and he simply hopes that Darren won’t hate him for the rest of their lives. All he hears is Darren’s breathing, how he inhales and exhales every few seconds.

“Would...” He glances up at Darren, who’s blushing just a little and who looks all the much cuter because of it. “I mean... would you mind if I kissed you now? ‘Cause I’ve actually wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

Chris’ eyes widen--he thinks they must be comically wide, like he’s a in a cartoon--and his cheeks flush up again. “What?” Darren’s smiling, but he also glances down at the ground and bites his lip.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since way before Blake’s party,” he confesses. “But I knew you didn’t like me like that, so I... didn’t.” And he shrugs, like he’s saying, Well, that’s that, then, and the worst part is that he’s not angry, he’s not blaming Chris for this, he’s being the most understanding person he can be right now and oh, god, Chris wishes he could truly, authentically hate Darren, just because it might make all of this easier.

But no. This is just making Chris like Darren even more than he already does. He can’t quite believe this isn’t happening, especially because he and Darren might have already kissed if Chris weren’t such a rom-com cliché main character who avoids his love interest when he thinks they don’t like him back.

He ought to really slap himself. But that’ll be later.

“I wouldn’t mind you kissing me now,” he says, almost shyly, almost expecting Darren to back out of the offer.

Instead, Darren--still sitting on the edge of Chris’ bed--grins at him and chuckles adorably, and he holds out his hands for Chris to take. Then he pulls Chris towards himself so that Chris is standing between Darren’s legs, so that he can hold onto Darren’s shoulders while Darren gently puts his hands on Chris’ waist.

They’d never been so close, not that Chris can remember, but he... he doesn’t mind. This is nice. This is really nice. Darren’s looking at him with such adoration in his eyes, how did Chris never notice it? How come he never noticed that his best friend looks at him like he’s the eight world wonder, like the Earth revolves around the sun because of him, like he’s the reason light even exists.

In Darren’s eyes, there’s an unspoken question, as if he doesn’t want to ruin this moment. Is this okay?

It’s perfectly okay. So Chris nods.

Then he closes his eyes and leans down at the same time Darren leans up.

And then they’re kissing.

Darren’s lips are soft against his own, and Chris wishes they had done this sooner--he’s almost entirely positive that nothing has ever felt as amazing as this. Just this, just this pressing of their lips together, is incredible. Chris doesn’t need anything else, except maybe to hold Darren closer, so he does. He wraps his arms around Darren’s shoulders, and he gasps a little when Darren does the same, hugging his waist to pull him closer. Darren’s kissing him like it’s the last time he’ll get to do it, but, since Chris hopes it won’t, he cups Darren’s face between his hands--gently, softly, almost soothingly.

If Chris has any say in the matter, there’ll definitely be a lot more kissing between them.

When they pull away, Chris feels a little dizzy, glad that Darren’s holding him so that he doesn’t fall. They’re both smiling, and Chris’s cheeks hurt and his mouth is a little sore but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything right now.

“So,” Darren says, his cheeks red. “Do you wanna spend seven minutes in heaven with me again sometime? Maybe at the next party we go to? Maybe in an hour?”

Chris’ laughter is louder than he’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter. Let everyone hear him. Let everyone know how much he likes Darren Criss, he doesn’t care.

“Sure,” he says. “Why not?”

Chris really ought to slap himself for dragging his unnecessary suffering on for so long. But that’ll be after more kissing.

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