Title: How to Succeed at Cheering Up Your Best Friend on New Year's Eve (by really trying)

Word Count: 4,036 words. One-shot. Complete.

Rating: Fluffy-fluff-fluff, with some humor, and a bit of passion. Let's go with PG-13.

Characters: Mainly CrissColfer with brief appearances by Lea Michele, Jonathan Groff, and Cory Monteith

Summary: Darren is nervous about opening night on Broadway. Chris tries to help. Is it his fault that Darren was in need of a New Year's Eve kiss? Sometimes being a good friend means filling in a pinch, and Chris was all too happy to answer Darren's need.

Author's Note: There are so many lovely CrissColfer New Year's Eve fics going around Tumblr right now, and so I had to throw my hat into the ring. Betaed as always by my lovely beta alexeidarling who always keeps me on task. I would never get anything finished without her prodding and encouragement.

Partially inspired by this song (I Hear the Bells by Mike Doughty)

"So we've got, hmm let's see..." Chris slid his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. "...4 minutes until midnight. So, who is going to be your New Year's Eve kiss?"

"Umm...," Darren started, his eyes slipping unconsciously to stare at Chris' lips. His gaze didn't go unnoticed by Chris, who merely smiled and scooted a tiny bit closer to Darren. "Yeah, I don't really have anyone. I'm all alooooone," he finished mournfully, sticking out his bottom lip and pouting exaggeratedly to comic effect.

"Oh Darren," Chris began teasingly. "You of all people should know you're "Not Alone." You're never alone."

Chris sighed heavily as he watched Darren slowly but surely tear a colorful napkin to shreds, his hands jumpy and his face tired and tense. It was 11:45 pm, the last 15 minutes of what had been a whirlwind year for Chris and Darren alike. They'd both filmed another season of Glee, gone on a sold-out international tour, and performed at countless events. Chris had also gotten his first book published, sold a pilot to the Disney Channel, and written, produced, and starred in his very own, soon-to-be-released movie. Darren had written a handful of songs for a brand new musical, played gigs all over the world, filmed a movie with Kristen Wiig, and now was about to add starring in a Broadway show to that list. Hence the napkin shredding.

He'd never known Darren to be anything but confident, charming, and upbeat to an almost pathological degree. And while Darren certainly wasn't one of those people who needed a few stiff drinks to unwind (unlike Chris), he rarely passed up drinking on an occasion like this, with all the cast members together at some place away from the prying eyes of the media. But Darren had a full day of rehearsals tomorrow ahead of his Broadway on January 3rd and he'd insisted that the last thing he needed to deal with at the moment was a hangover. So he'd studiously avoided alcohol all night, despite the numerous requests of Lea and Amber to take shots. But Darren was nothing if not a gentleman, and so as a polite gesture to make up for his sober state, he'd offered up his body for body shots, an offer that Lea had quickly accepted. It had taken a lot of willpower for Chris to stop himself from licking the slight trace of salt he could see remaining on Darren's neck and jaw. And Chris was willing to bet that his lips still tasted of lime. But staring at Darren's lips (from afar of course) had given Chris a way that he could possibly cheer Darren up. But doing so would first necessitate a little liquid courage, so Chris snagged two glasses of champagne from a tray and headed to the edge of the balcony where Darren had annihilated his napkin and had now settled for fraying the edges of his 2012 party hat.

"For you, good sir," Chris said with mock seriousness as he slid onto the bench next to Darren. Darren jumped a mile, startled by Chris' sudden appearance.

"Jesus Chris, what are you, a fucking ninja? You scared me." Darren said, rubbing his eyes and looking more miserable and exhausted than Chris had seen him look in a long time, possibly worse than he'd ever seen Darren look.

"Yeah, I can see that. So what's this?" Chris asked, moving his hand through the air in a circular motion to indicate Darren's current posture and appearance.

"What do you mean?" Darren asked, confused.

"This whole brooding, antisocial thing. It's not very Darren Criss-like, if you know what I mean. We only have ten minutes till midnight. You should be having fun. Come inside and dance with everyone. If you are really, really good and bust out your sweet Katy Perry dance moves, I might even let you see my Single Ladies dance, live and in person," Chris coaxed, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he mentioned Single Ladies.

"Umm, hate to disappoint, Chris, but I've already seen you doing Single Ladies live. 54 times to be exact."

"Huh?" said Chris, confused. "Darren, I don't even think I've even done the dance that many times outside of rehearsal so..."

"You've done it exactly 54 times. 54 Glee Live performances this year. I've sat in the audience and watched each and every one."

"You...you what?" Chris sputtered, flushing beet red at the thought of Darren watching him do that, watching him move his hips like that, multiple times no less, and all while wearing a leotard that had a tendency to ride up. Oh holy hell.

"Don't acted so surprised, Colfer. It's not like I was the only one. Ashley was right there with me every single night. And can I just say that I wish I could translate your dancing gene into my body right now? Because then maybe I wouldn't screw up the choreography on opening night and make a fool out of myself in front of a sold out Broadway audience."

Chris let out a sigh. They were back on this again. Chris was supposed to be cheering him up, not helping him slip further into his morose anxieties. Time to change the subject.

"Okay, first of all, I don't have the dancing gene. I needed about a million choreographers, rehearsals, and a therapist just to learn the Single Ladies dance. It did not come easily for me either. It just took time. You've had, what, maybe two weeks of rehearsal? And you are still going to kill it. Because you are Darren Freaking Criss."

Darren smiled in spite of himself. Before he could reply, Lea poked her head out onto the balcony. "You guys! It's five minutes to midnight. What are you doing out here? Come daaance with us," she begged, slurring her words just a bit before being grabbed around the waist and spun back onto the dance floor by Jonathan.

Darren rolled his eyes affectionately at Lea's drunken demeanor. "I guess we should go inside?" he said to Chris, leaning forward to stand up. But Chris placed a restraining hand on Darren's shoulder to stop him.

"I've got a question for you," he said, his voice low, warm, with a hint of something unexpected in his eyes and on his lips.

"Okay..." Darren said, unsure, swallowing hard as Chris took hold of his hand and stared into his eyes with a look he'd never seen before.

"So we've got, hmm let's see..." Chris slid his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. "...4 minutes until midnight. So, who is going to be your New Year's Eve kiss?"

"Umm...," Darren started, his eyes slipping unconsciously to stare at Chris' lips. His gaze didn't go unnoticed by Chris, who merely smiled and scooted a tiny bit closer to Darren. "Yeah, I don't really have anyone. I'm all alooooone," he finished mournfully, sticking out his bottom lip and pouting exaggeratedly to comic effect.

"Oh Darren," Chris began teasingly. "You of all people should know you're "Not Alone." You're never alone."

Darren let out a genuine chuckle this time, his nose crinkling as he considered Chris carefully. "You got me there, Colfer." He drew in a sharp breath of surprise as Chris brought a hand to his temple, brushing a wayward curl off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear.

Chris looked at Darren tenderly, seeming to memorize his face. "Three minutes," he whispered roughly.

"Well, that's not much time to find a New Year's Eve kiss, now is it? What do you suggest I do about it, Colfer? You got a solution?"

"I...might have something in mind," Chris purred teasingly. "But first, drink this," Chris directed, pressing a flute of champagne into Darren's hand.

Darren looked down at the glass, frowning slightly. "Oh wait, first...I need to do this," Chris said, pulling a napkin wrapped parcel from his pocket, plucking a fresh strawberry from the pile and plopping it unceremoniously into Darren's glass. "There, that's better. Now drink." Again Darren hesitated, opening his mouth as if to say something before thinking better of it and shutting it mutely.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Okay, before you can protest...one glass of champagne does not a hangover make. And it would be sacrilege for you to ring in 2012 without a drink to toast. Not to mention the fact that you could use a little something to help you unwind. You're wound as tightly as...well me for a change. Two minutes, by the way," Chris admonished. "Drink up."

With a nod, Darren brought the glass to his lips taking a long, hard swig of the crisp, cool liquid, his nose twitching slightly as the effervescent bubbles tickled his nose and throat. He took a second swig and then closed fingers around the stem of the strawberry and brought it to his lips, biting into the sweet fruit, fully appreciating the contrast between the sweetness of the strawberry and the tart dryness of the champagne. He dropped the remaining piece of the strawberry back into his glass and licked his lips, spreading the slight stain of the ripe fruit across his lower lip.

Chris managed (barely) to stifle a moan at the sight, staring at Darren eagerly, his eyes dark with lust. At the moment, what Chris wanted more than anything was to taste Darren's lips, to taste his mouth.

Darren was the first to speak, staring deeply into Chris' eyes, fascinated by the change they'd undergone in the past minute. "One minute," he rumbled in a low, deep voice. "If you've got a suggestion, Colfer, now's the time to make it." Darren raised his eyebrows slightly, just enough to indicate his tacit acknowledgement (and approval) of the lust in Chris' eyes.

"Well," Chris spoke. "I am nothing if not a good friend. I'd hate for you to be alone for the last moments of 2011 and I surely don't want you to start 2012 on the wrong note. It seems unlucky somehow. So, I guess I could be talked into filling in for your New Year's Eve kiss. You know, just as a favor and all," Chris finished teasingly.

"Oh wow, you'd do that for little ol' me? I'm honored. But the Golden Globe winning, internationally renowned Chris Colfer kissing Darren Criss? On New Year's Eve, no less? What would the public think? Your stock would plummet just from associating with a mere plebian like me," Darren teased right back, fully committed to what was about to happen.

"Oh, quit your silly self-deprecation. I'm not the one who was People's magazine third most beautiful man of the year AND the one who is about to star on Broadway. If anyone's stock is going to suffer by association, it's yours. But we've only got 30 seconds, and I don't even own any stock, so...I really, really need you to shut up now," Chris hummed. He slid one hand to cup Darren's shoulder, running fingertips up and down Darren's upper arm in feather-light strokes. His other hand slid over Darren's cheek, reaching around to draw Darren's face closer to his and cupping the back of his neck possessively. He gazed into Darren's eyes, seeing the flicker of doubt that had entered them once again. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the upcoming show on Broadway, seeing as how that was the source of Darren's current ennui.

Like the magnetic pull of opposite poles, Darren and Chris were drawn closer, neither sure who has initiated the movement. Darren, having given in fully to the experience now, slid a palm down Chris' spine, inciting an involuntarily shiver from Chris. He rocked forward a bit, purposefully closing the gap between them as his eyes stared, enraptured, at Chris' full pink lips. In the distance, he could hear the sound of fireworks and the countdown started inside. 10 – 9 – 8 – 7...

Chris leaned in as well, lips parted just slightly as he planned how he would capture Darren's lower lip between his own, sucking the stain and sweet tang of fruit and alcohol from his lips. His skin prickled deliciously with the anticipation of it all. Inside, the count continued, growing louder as more and more party goers joined in. 6 – 5 – 4 – 3...

As the clocked ticked off the last seconds of 2011, Darren and Chris closed the gap simultaneously.

2 – 1... Teeth and tongues crashed together, both boys surging forward searching for heat and taste and friction and more. Chris sucked Darren's lower lip into his mouth, moaning slightly at the taste of sweet strawberry still on his lips. Darren returned the kiss eagerly, his tongue delving into Chris' mouth experimentally, feeling a rush at the sensation as his affections were returned in kind by Chris. Darren felt like he was falling. And at that moment, he didn't care if he ever found solid ground again. Because this? This was everything he needed. Everything he'd wanted but had been too afraid to ask for or even acknowledge. With Chris at his side, Darren felt like the best version of himself and all those earlier doubts, those earlier fears were swept away.

Chris pulled away suddenly, startled by the sound of the porch door sliding open. Darren whined, whimpered really under his breath at the loss of contact.

This time it was Cory who poked his head out onto the balcony. "Hey you two, Happy New Year's! We've been looking for you. What are you doing out here in the cold? Come inside where it's warm."

Darren was too breathless, too dizzy, too drunk on Chris to form a coherent thought, let alone a coherent reply to Cory. But luckily, Chris spoke up quickly, displacing suspicion, even if only momentarily. "We were just watching the fireworks. We'll be back in a sec." Chris gave Cory a look, hinting as subtly as possible at his desire to be alone with Darren for a precious few minutes more.

"Oh right... Okay, cool. I'll uh...I'll leave you to it then," Cory mumbled, backing towards the door at once and shutting it firmly behind him. As he left, the world filled with the sounds of the city below and Chris turned back to Darren, who looked utterly wrecked; his lips still moist and slightly swollen from their earlier assault. He smiled fondly at Darren and was rewarded with a heart-stopping grin in return. It was the first completely genuine smile he'd seen from Darren all night. Finally, the smile reached Darren's eyes, pushing away the earlier anxieties and self-doubt. And Chris just smiled to himself because he'd done it. He'd finally found a way to get through to Darren, even if it had involved fewer words and much, much more tongue. But if Chris was honest with himself, that was a ratio that he could live with.

"Happy New Year's, Dare," Chris whispered, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

"Happy New Year's, Chris," Darren responded, tilting his head up to plant a gentle kiss on Chris' forehead. "And thank you," he added.

"For what?" Chris asked innocently though he knew exactly what Darren was referring to.

"For cheering me up. For making sure that I started 2012 on the right note. For being amazing. For being you, just like always," Darren finished, gazing at Chris' face, loving the way that the flicker of fireworks overhead lit up his face, exposing the hard planes and angles, but also the shadows and softness beneath them.

"Anytime, Dare. But I've still got one more surprise. You ready for it?" Chris asked excitedly.

"A surprise? Hmm, what could it be?" Darren asked innocently, secretly hoping for another kiss, Cory, Lea, and the rest of the party be damned.

But instead of leaning in to caress Darren's lips again, Chris bent down, rummaging through a small messenger bag at his feet that Darren hadn't noticed earlier. After a moment of disappointment, Darren sat forward, his curiosity now piqued.

"Close your eyes," Chris commanded. Darren did as he was told, shivering slightly in the crisp New York air with the anticipation of what was coming next. Darren felt Chris settle something hard and heavy over his lap, taking a second to straighten it carefully before speaking again. "Okay, you can open your eyes," he said.

Darren opened his eyes and gazed at the beautiful gift in his lap. His own face stared back up at him, and Darren gasped in surprise as he realized what it was. Sitting nestled in his lap was a beautifully framed copy of his limited edition Playbill for "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying." Darren leaned in closer, examining the display and noticing other small details. Beneath the playbill there were two tickets to the show, again prominently featuring Darren's name and the date January 3rd, his opening night. Underneath, something was scrawled in Chris' distinctive hand in a silvery pen. Darren squinted in the dim light to read it.

Chris spoke first. "It says, 'Darren, welcome to the big leagues. I'll be in the front row on opening night cheering you on. I know you are going to kill it.'" Chris paused for a moment, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of reading the next word aloud. With a deep breath, he continued, reading "Love, Chris." He looked up to Darren, nervous and anxious to see how he was responding to the gift. Was it too much? Chris wasn't sure.

Darren's face told him everything he needed to know. His eyes were shining with unshed tears as he struggled to find the right words to respond. "Chris, this is...it's amazing...and I...I just can't believe you went to all that trouble...for me. You have no idea how much I needed to hear this...to see this tonight. I..I just...I don't even know what to say except thank you. I...I'll cherish it. Always."

Chris beamed at Darren, thrilled that he hadn't misjudged Darren or what he needed in this moment. "I'm glad you liked it," he said simply, no more words necessary. He reached up a gentle hand to wipe away a wayward tear from Darren's cheek with the pad of his thumb. Darren captured the hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the palm of Chris' hand before closing it into around his own hand.

They sat there this way for several moments, simply holding hands and gazing at one another, reveling in the comfortable silence and familiar intimacy shared between them. Darren was the first to break the silence, his voice flirty and teasing once more.

"So got any interesting New Year's resolutions? Any vices you're trying to give up? Any exciting goals for 2012? Besides not dying in apocalypse and subsequent zombie invasion, obviously."

Chris let out a chuckle, low and deep at Darren's utterly ridiculous question. Truthfully, he had lots. There was the book tour and finishing book two and hoping to sell another script and so many things he'd determined were important in his never-ending quest for achievement and success. But in this moment, all of those goals and plans seemed silly, frivolous, even. And then suddenly, Chris knew what his most important resolution was going to be. And it was a doozy, too.

"I've got a few...but only one that really pertains to you," he replied.

Darren's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, the effect comical as he looked even more like a puppy than usual. "A resolution about me, huh? Well, this should be good. Do tell. If it's really, really good, I might even tell you mine."

Chris smiled at Darren, squeezing his hand gently in response. "My New Year's resolution is to help you see yourself the way everyone else sees you. The way I see you. You are always so hard on yourself. You are your own worst critic even when you are amazing. And I just want you to be able to look into the mirror and see what I see."

"Whoa," said Darren, momentarily taken aback by the sincerity of Chris' resolution. He'd been expecting something teasing or sexual, not this. His heart ached a little with how well Chris knew him. He was his own worst critic. And as he watched Chris gaze at him with a look of fondness and awe, Darren found himself desperately wishing that he could see himself through Chris' eyes, if only to understand Chris (and himself) a little better.

"That's a pretty tall order, Chris. But you're not wrong...about me, I mean. I could probably stand to go a little easier on myself. At least on occasion." Before Chris could get a word in edge-wise, Darren continued. "Okay, my turn. I have a New Year's resolution about you too. Want to hear it?"

Chris could only nod; his cheeks flushed red and his mind racing at the thought. What was Darren's resolution? To help Chris get over his massive Diet Coke addiction? Chris was drawing a blank on the subject.

"My resolution," Daren continued, "is to teach you how to slow down every once in a while and take better care of yourself."

"What?" asked Chris, surprised. He had not been expecting that. He slid his phone out his pocket, bringing it to his ear as Darren watched him in confusion. "Hello?" Chris spoke into the phone. "Hi, Pot? This is kettle. Guess what? I'm calling you black too."

Darren let out a loud guffaw of laughter at Chris' antics leaning over as his body was wracked his helpless giggles. When he could finally speak again, he turned to Chris. "Okay, fair enough. Perhaps it is something that we could both stand to work on. And now we can. Together. But don't pretend that isn't you, Colfer. I'm getting damn tired of watching you work yourself to the brink of collapse. And we shouldn't have to sneak Tylenol PM into your Diet Coke to make you get some sleep or take things easy.

"Wait, what?" Chris said, shocked and more than a little disturbed. "Not me," said Darren. "If I needed to get you to sleep, I'd just kidnap you and chain you to the bed and play you lullabies. But you should maybe talk to Ashley and Lea and Cory about not slipping a roofie into your Diet Coke next time. But honestly, can you blame them? I'd recommend not leaving your drinks unattended in their presence unless you don't mind a little unscheduled nap.

Chris just shook his head in wonder. He knew he should be furious, because really? Drugging him? But there was another part of him that couldn't help but think that it was just the cast trying to take care of him in some silly, misguided way. Because they were family.

"Riiight. Cool...and I will definitely have a talk with them about a roofie cease fire. But I promise to go along with your resolution under two conditions. One, no more roofies; and two, you start taking your own advice too. Deal?" Chris asked.

"Deal," said Darren, grinning widely. Reluctantly, he turned toward the balcony door. "We should...probably get back inside before they send out a search party," he sighed reluctantly.

Chris nodded, standing to follow him inside. Together they made their way across the balcony, taking in the reds and blues and purples of the fireworks overhead. Their hands remained firmly entwined as they approached the door. "You ready for this?" Darren asked sweetly and Chris nodded. Finally, they strode into the room, hands still firmly clasped together as they entered Lea's apartment (and 2012) just as they had 2011. Together.

End Note: Hope you enjoyed the fic! This is my way of wishing a very Happy New Years to you all, particularly my fellow CrissColfer shippers. If you like the fic, I'd love for you to let me know. Nothing would make my 2011 (and 2012) more!

If you aren't already following me on Tumblr, what are you waiting for? I posted a preview of this chapter last night so there are benefits to following the story in both places. You can find me at place-that-ive-been-dreaming-of (dot) tumblr (dot) com