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Darren and Chris are lying on the bed, blinking at each other affectionately as the camera gazes over them, inches away from their faces as they film a close up. This shouldn’t take long, they were told. They only had to get the close up shots today; they’d film the rest tomorrow. But after a good ten minutes of lying under the hot stage lights, both boys sweating under the duvet and silently cursing the LA heat, there’s a problem.
‘Cut!’ someone calls. Chris looks up to see a cameraman swearing, fumbling about with a lens. There’s murmurs of it being broken, and a visibly annoyed Ryan takes his yellow hat off in frustration, checking it out himself. Darren and Chris are left to lie there, both boys silent. It would be less awkward for them if they were filming. Then they’d have a job to do, know how to behave. But lying here, holding hands in bed as they ignore the fact they were enjoying a drunken night of kissing only a week ago, is unbearably awkward.
‘Okay guys, take a break,’ someone calls to the crew. There’s agreement to pause the filming as someone searches to look for fix for their camera, and with the shout of ‘hang on guys, we’ll be back soon,’ Chris and Darren are left alone.
‘Fuck, it’s so hot,’ Darren eventually says, wiping a bead of sweat off his face. The silence is broken, Chris agreeing with an ‘I know.’
In an effort to preserve his makeup and not ending up stinking of sweat, Darren tugs the duvet off them, and, to Chris’ surprise, his pyjama pants.
‘Darren?’ Chris asks, eyebrows raised. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m boiling!’ Darren moans in reply. ‘And if they’re making us have this duvet on, I might as well skip the costume.’ He raises an arm, sniffing his armpit. ‘You got deodorant?’
Chris sighs, getting up to walk to his bag, tossing Darren a can of it.
‘Do you have to wear boxers? You’re making this more awkward than it already’ he complains. He throws a judgemental gaze to the ones Darren is wearing. Shocking pink, they cling tightly to his cock and balls, bulging out against the material.
‘Hey,’ Darren shrugs, getting back into bed with Chris whilst shamelessly readjusting his goods. ‘How’s this awkward?’
‘They’re just a little eye catching’ Chris mutters, ignoring the question.
Darren stares at Chris after that. His mind can’t help but wander back to the night Chris’s tongue was in Darren’s mouth, kisses of broken promises pressed into Darren’s lips. There had been a craving in his stomach for more touching, but a craving in his heart for a relationship. But Chris had shown no signs of wanting that; there had been no texting the morning after, not even a snapchat with the usual hungover regret.
Finally, Darren builds up the courage to say what he wants.
‘Eye catching? The pink or the bulge?’
Chris turns away, cheeks turning a fetching shade of red.
‘You’re terrible.’
‘Oh come on,’ Darren teases, poking Chris in the shoulder. ‘Do you really find this awkward though?’ he mumbles, a tone of seriousness in his voice.
‘A little.’
‘Why? I thought we’re just friends.’
‘We are just friends,’ Chris replies stubbornly, feigning interest in the edge of the duvet, fiddling with it.
‘So how’s it awkward?’
‘Because we almost hooked up.’
Chris’s words come out rushed and pressed together, the sentence one he would rather not say.
‘Did we?’ It comes as a surprise to Darren. They had been interrupted, that night. The sound of people walking to the bedroom they were in forcing them to jump apart and spend the rest of the evening separated. But Darren had never expected Chris to fuck him.
‘You mean you wouldn’t of-‘Chris cuts off his sentence, confidence dropping as Darren’s words suggest the kissing had meant nothing. Chris was attracted to Darren, of course he was. But with no sign from Darren than it was anything more than a drunken stumble, he had kept the relationship a friendzoned one.
‘Did you want to?’
‘I-‘ Chris falters, torn between honesty and preserving his pride. But finally he decides it’s worth the risk. ‘Of course. You’re an attractive guy.’
‘That’s it?’ Darren clarifies. ‘It’s just my looks?’
‘Hey,’ Chris says. ‘Would you have fucked me? You never sought me out after we left that room; I thought you had no interest.’
‘Of course I had interest,’ Darren smiles, glad that Chris has finally shown a sign that he likes him. ‘You never came to me.’
Chris shrugs, pondering the night. ‘So would you have fucked me? You never answered.’
Darren still doesn’t. They say actions speak louder than words, so he grabs Chris’s hands, pulling it down under the duvet.
‘Feel that?’ he says, voice catching in his throat as Chris’ fingers press against his half hard dick, now swelling up under Chris’ touch. ‘That’s from just thinking back to that night. Of course I would have fucked you. Of course I would have.’
Chris smiles, pulling back his hand and clenching his thighs, excitement twisting in his stomach.
‘You should put your pyjama pants back on,’ he says. ‘The crew will be back soon.’
Deciding to avoid embarrassment, Darren does so, shrugging back into them.
‘So what do you want to do?’ Darren asks. ‘Continue a sexually frustrating relationship in which we hide our boners from each other and the crew for the rest of our time here at Glee, or actually do something with each other?’
‘Do something?’
‘Like a date. If you want,’ Darren says, anticipating Chris’s answer.
‘I’d like that,’ Chris smiles, taking Darren’s hand to hold it tightly. ‘I’m free tomorrow night?’
‘I’ll pick you up at eight.’
The crew come back a few seconds later, new camera lens fitted and ready to film. There’s something different about the boys, thought they don’t know what. Ryan announces they need to reshoot the earlier scenes, that they’re showing the emotion better now. But no one knows the true excitement in the boys’ heads. That Chris isn’t playing Kurt and Blaine isn’t playing Darren. What they have now isn’t acting. The romance between them is real.