I want you, says Darren.

He leans into the armrest, and alternates between looking at Chris and looking at the camera. The buzz of the Glee cast is simultaneously electric and soothing. Interviews with the entire cast are always fun, because the Glee cast is nothing if not a chatty bunch.

Around him, the cast chuckles and nods along adoringly as Darren laughs and sings Chris praises.

He laughs and jokes and teases, looks Chris straight in the eyes and doesn't looks away as he talks about how wonderful Chris is, how multitalented and inspirational he is. Because Chris may be critically acclaimed and Golden Globe winning, but sometimes even that doesn't take away a whole childhood of being told you are not good enough.

I want you, says Darren.

Somebody shows Darren a video of the interview. The interviewer asks Chris how he would feel arriving at heaven's pearly gates. Chris' smile is simple and sweet and entirely too bitter for his short 21 years: I'd like to hear God say, 'don't listen to them, you get to come in too.'

After shooting, Darren pushes open the door to Chris' trailer and barrels through, sending note pads flying and books sprawling on the floor (and knocking over what he thinks is a cup of tea, Chris won't be happy about that).

Chris simply closes his eyes and returns Darren's hug, because Darren is usually one part grown up man and 99 parts overgrown, over-excited snugglebug hipster puppy that happens to love hugs.

But five minutes in and Chris' back is a little sore from being bent at the awkward angle that he was captured in the hug. And despite Darren's cuddly nature, this hug was lengthy even by Darren's standards.

"Um… I mean this is nice Darren, but I don't think you've actually morphed into a koala yet."

"I wouldn't go anywhere where you couldn't, fuck those pearly gates." Darren announces, gripping Chris' shoulders and entirely serious faced, until he waggles his eyebrows and smacks Chris' ass, "Let's get our gay on and commit some sins, c'mon, I like my weather hot and fiery anyway."

Darren loves that laugh, the one where Chris tries to cover his mouth as his entire face scrunches in, squinty eyed and button nosed.

I want you, says Darren.

Darren hates that expression, the one where Chris tries to cover his mouth as his entire face scrunches in, watery eyed and tight lipped.

It's impossible for Chris to avoid seeing Aiden, because he is part of the filming crew and despite Darren's attempts at convincing Ryan Murphy, being the asshole son of a bitch who broke Chris' heart is apparently not reason enough to fire someone.

Chris looks tired and entirely uninterested the next morning as makeup and hair preps them for their scene together.

"Get excited, Colfer, you get to make-out with me and I have on excellent authority that I'm a solid 10 out of 10 when it comes to kissing,"

Chris rolls his eyes but the corners of his lips twitch upwards anyway, "Apparently I'm so good at making out I rank on hieroglyphics, Darren."

On their first take, Darren grips Chris' face tight, pulls him entirely too close and kisses him so hard that Chris moans and actually pushes against Darren's thigh a little.

Ryan lectures Darren on the specifics of being a strictly PG-13 show, and Darren pays about zero percent attention. Instead, he has his arm looped around Chris' hips and their thighs are pressed close together. Darren shoots Aiden a smirk, because Chris is hot and right now he is looking a good deal happier about today's filming schedule.

I want you, says Darren.

Lea, Dianna and Darren flip through Chris' latest magazine shoot together and he's fairly certain that their eyes cannot possibly get any bigger than this moment.

Darren is just barely short of licking the magazine page and Lea is fanning herself when the object of their shared lusting strolls onto set, messy haired and bleary eyed and abso-fucking-lutely adorable.

Lea bounds to her feet instantly, waving the magazine above her head and shooting off in Chris' direction: "Christopher Colfer you cannot possibly have these pictures published and expect me not do unchild-friendly things to you!"

Darren watches as Chris' eyes go wide. As much as everyone loves Lea it would not be the first time she's mauled Chris.

Dianna laughs, watching as Lea pets and coos over Chris. "He is adorable, I just want to hug him forever."

Darren groans, rolling onto his back and letting magazine-paper-Chris flop against his chest.

"I just wanna fuck him. And I just said that. Out loud." Darren groans again, "Because I have no filter. Duh. Obviously."

I want you, says Darren.

Chris presses up close to and dances with four men throughout the night, not that Darren is keeping count or anything. The current one is blatantly grinding into Chris, and Darren is pretty sure the hand sliding up Chris' thigh is not just friendly.

By the time Chris and Mr. Dance Partner #4 make it back to Darren and the bar, they are the last two of the Glee cast still remaining at the club. Darren is exhausted, but apparently his previously unknown self-destructive tendencies are flaring, because he has spent the last hour nursing his drink and glowering in Chris' direction.

Man #4 murmurs something into Chris' ear with a smirk, before taking off in the direction of the washroom.

Chris deposits himself heavily into Darren's lap, stealing his drink and tucking his face into Darren's neck.

"Dare. Darren. Darren!" Chris straightens suddenly, and Darren resolutely ignores the pressure in his lap. "Darren. I am twenty-two. Twenty-two."

"Yep, you sure are."

"Twenty-two. I am twenty-two and I like sex."

Darren grimaces, resists pointing out that Darren is twenty-six and also enjoys sex, what a coincidence! "That you are. Twenty-two. With lots of other nights to enjoy sex, so maybe it's time for you to head home for the night."

"No. Nope, Darren. I want to go home with someone."

Darren takes Chris' wrists, stills them and looks hard into Chris' eyes and doesn't look away. "Chris, go home." He is just barely short of pleading with Chris at this point.

"Nope! Don't wanna!"

Anger flares up in Darren's chest, sudden and unexpected burning hot and just fine, fine if Chris wants to go home with Dance Partner #4 and doesn't want Darren well then that was just fucking fine.

Darren stands up abruptly and Chris tumbles off his lap. He reaches out one hand to throw some bills on the counter and the other to steady Chris, before pushing his way through the crowds of people towards the door.

He notices Chris stumbling after him like a puppy, finally says something when Chris has followed him, jacket-less and shivering to where cabs are waiting.

Darren turns suddenly, sighing as Chris fails to stop his feet and bumps gently chest-first into the side of Darren's arm. "Where are you going, Chris?"

"'M tired. Wanna go home with you."

Chris is pouting and adorable, and thoroughly asleep by the time they get to Darren's house. It takes a bit of coaxing to get Chris to change into Darren's sweats, but he snuffles into Darren's side of the bed and falls asleep instantly, as if he hadn't been grinding on tall, gorgeous men all night.

Darren thinks about being twenty-two, thinks about Chris feeling like an awkward, unsexual baby penguin for most of his life.

Darren thinks about Chris just learning, at twenty-two, that he can make people fall in lust with him, even if he maybe hasn't realized that he can make people fall devastatingly in love with him too.

I want you, says Darren.

Darren sleeps with Chris the three weeks into living with him.

The decision to move in together comes easily; their friendship had sparked instantly and naturally, and they share the same 6am shooting schedule for Glee. Darren likes to cook and Chris finds cleaning the apartment soothing.

Instead of getting dressed and driving to Paramount to read lines, Darren has to simply roll out of bed with his script, stumble messy haired and bleary eyed across the hall, nuzzle into Chris' sheets and let Chris' voice, clear and sharp as rain, wake up every cell in his body and light them up like fireworks on an empty night.

So if Darren's motives for moving in with Chris aren't as black and white as he'd like them to be, that doesn't change the fact that it is a neat and practical solution for their housing.

The first time Chris brings someone home, Darren is sitting on the couch picking out a movie to watch. They'd fallen into a routine of winding down the nights together, and Darren had assumed Chris would come home from his "night out with Lea" buzzed and luminescent from the noise of the city.

But apparently Darren misinterpreted the signs, because the way Chris cuddles against Darren's side as they watch the latest Hollywood rom-com is nothing compared to the way Chris lets himself be pressed and pushed by Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Gorgeous. Darren barely manages to greet Chris in passing before the door to Chris' room is slammed shut.

It's not that Chris is ever noisy or obnoxious about his hookups, but the high moan that Darren catches as he passes by the door of Chris' room on that first night is enough to leave him curled up in the dark comfort of his bed, sick to his stomach and at the tortuous will of the images of Chris in his mind – bending and begging and stunning.

Darren sleeps with Chris three weeks into living with him.

Neither of them is drunk after the event, but Chris is coy and flirty with Darren all night. Darren registers the sound of Chris finishing his shower, but doesn't think anything of it until a very warm and very wet Chris, covered only by a towel, kneels between Darren's knees where he is seated on the couch.

Part of Darren thinks that he could come from that image alone, most of him thinks that he'd like to see Chris pretty and keening and flushed because of Darren.

He only lets Chris suck on his dick for a few long minutes, before he tugs on Chris' hair gently. Chris climbs onto Darren's lap eagerly, letting Darren kiss him and palm his ass roughly.

Chris isn't light, he's all lean, taut muscle, but Darren wraps Chris' legs around his waist and walks them to his bed. Chris palms their cocks together the entire way, rutting and whining softly.

"You should stop that for now, unless you want me to drop you on the floor and fuck you there."

"I wouldn't be opposed to that,"

They just barely manage to make it to Darren's bed, and when Chris comes with Darren still inside him, he is pretty and keening and flushed. His come is splashed across Chris' stomach, and instead of pulling out and cleaning them off, Darren tugs Chris' body closer and sucks one more hickey deep into Chris' neck.

When Darren wakes up, Chris is already gone.

Chris brings home another man the next night. Darren curls up in bed, sick to his stomach with thoughts of Chris.

Evidently Chris tells the man to help himself to breakfast the next morning. Chris showers, and Darren hands Chris' latest conquest coffee in a traveller's mug accompanied by a glower that sends him scurrying out the door.

If Chris is surprised by the lack of breakfast company, he doesn't let on. Darren lets Chris finish his coffee before crowding into his personal space from behind. Darren's hands are tight on Chris' lips and he leans forward and sucks a bruise sharp and hard into Chris' neck.

Darren doesn't miss the hitch in Chris' breathing as he chuckles, high and breathy, "You know I could get into regular morning sex,"

"Chris, I don't want you-"

"Ookay that is so not what your dick is saying right now."

Darren bites Chris' neck hard, then turns him around slowly. He looks straight into Chris' eyes and doesn't look away.

"Do you even know that guy's name? You slept with him because you're lonely."

"Excuse me?" Darren can see the anger spark in Chris' eyes, his dark eyelashes a stark contrast fluttering around pale skin and quivering eyes.

"I want you, Chris. I didn't want you just for that night. I don't want you for tonight or tomorrow or next week. I want you every second of every day of every month. I want you to know that you don't have to feel alone anymore. I want you to know that you're good enough, that you're the best thing I can imagine. That even if you scream and push me away and say things that make me want to hate you, I will always stay. I want you always."

Chris' eyes are big and luminescent and a little bit lonely, and suddenly this isn't the Chris that is coy and confident, grinding against strangers at a club. Suddenly Chris is a boy that grew up in the many hours spent alone in his bedroom or the library or the coffee shop in Fresno, California. Suddenly, Chris is the boy that dreamt of Prince Charming taking his hand and sweeping him off his feet.

Chris, who got lost in LA too young, and found many princes but maybe stopped believing in Prince Charming.

"You want me?"

"Chris, every second of every day of every month. I want you."