Title: Bad Pick-Up Lines
Word count: 1,411
Summary: It's just a stupid game of stupid pick-up lines, but it works for them.. RPF.
Warnings/Spoilers: Basically just an excuse to be smutty...
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the Glee universe. Nor do I know Chris or Darren and so I hope to God they never see this...
"You're far too pretty to be here alone."
A raised eyebrow. A swirl of the straw. "Does that line work often?"
A short laugh. "Not as often as I'd like."
"You're a dork."
"I prefer goober, honestly."
A shake of a head and slurp of Diet Coke.
"Do you come here often?"
"You know I don't."
"Just trying to make conversation."
A pause. He glanced to his right. "I get recognised easier than you do."
"I flirt more." A toothy grin. A wink.
"You leave girls high and dry." Another pause. "Or maybe high and wet. Panting. Desperate. Flailing. And then you walk away."
A scrunched face. "That's a disturbing image."
"You do it to them."
"Now I'm trying to do it to you."
"It's not working."
"I can see that."
A sigh. Another sip of Diet Coke. Silence.
"So should I leave my number or?"
"You're really desperate, aren't you?"
"You already have it."
"I'm just…trying lines out."
"You need to work on your delivery." A smirk. "Smoother. Like delivering a baby."
"A baby delivery isn't smooth."
"And you'd know?"
A grimace. "No. But it never looks smooth. Or pretty. I think sex ed turned me off wanting to be at the birth of a child forever."
"It confirmed that I was gay."
A soft laugh. The awkward tension eases.
"I think I'm going to leave."
"Leaving so soon? How unusual."
"You know I love my sleep."
"You know you're lying."
A snort. It's unbecoming from most people and yet…
"I'll see you soon."
He leaves. And he's not even out of the door before his cell rings.
"That didn't take you long."
"You said 'soon'. Is this soon enough?"
"I'd hardly say no."
"Do you want to go back to my place?"
"My apartment is closer."
"Fine. Yours then. I'll meet you there."
A beep. The call is ended. A smirk. He won.
He climbs into his car and drives away, navigating the traffic and parking. He unlocks his door and shrugs out of his jacket and shoes and takes a seat. He knows he won't have to wait long. He drums his fingers on his knees, anxious, excited.
It's not even ten minutes when the doorbell rings. He goes to the door, unlatches it, cracks it open.
"I thought you'd be here sooner."
"Shut up and let me in."
He opens it wider. He barely even comprehends that the door has been slammed shut, that he's been pushed up against a wall, that there are hands raking across his chest. He hisses softly as his hands find soft hips, sliding under the t-shirt fabric and dancing over skin. A needy groan as the hips he's holding jerk against his. And there are lips on his face, against his neck, skimming across the stubble on his jaw as hands fight to undo his button-down. It had seemed like a good idea when he put it on this morning but now it was just taking too much time.
He stumbles a little, moving them away from the wall by the door and pulling the t-shirt he had been playing under off and then the final button has been fumbled free and he lets it tumble to the ground. And then there's hands on chests and hips and backs and he finally finds the edge of the couch and pushes backwards, easing down as he hovers above. He licks the neck that is lightly covered in sweat and a whimper erupts beneath him. He smirks, mouthing kisses along the throat that is so exposed.
"Please," it's breathy, desperate. He knows. He understands. He feels the same. "Please Dare." A hand slides down his spine and pushes into the small of his back and his brain short-circuits for a moment.
"Please what?" he teases, his hand reaching between them to fiddle with the button on his jeans.
A whine. "You know what." A pant as he helps Darren out of his jeans. "I need you."
"Jesus," he groans, practically tearing the other pair of pants off and leaving their aching erections to rub freely. There's a muted, elated cry at the friction. But it's not enough. It hasn't been enough for months.
"F-fuck." A stutter, eyes shut, fingers tense on his arms. Darren rubs the tips of his fingers across the panting mouth and it opens, suckles obediently and Darren trembles. He knows what that mouth can do, how that tongue can…he needs to stop thinking that.
He removes his fingers, slides them down, presses slowly in. He's always gentle. Just in case. He doesn't want to cause pain. Not at the beginning at least.
There's an unintelligible sound that he smothers with a kiss, his tongue sliding between them and he loses himself in the kissing while his fingers dance and move and stretch. And then the mouth he was kissing is pulled away, turned to the side, heaving shuddering breaths.
"God, are you going to fuck me or what?"
"Impatient much?" he smiles, kissing under an ear.
"Don't be cruel." A hand on his back, skimming the curve of his ass. "I can just as easily change the rules and fuck you until you can't walk straight."
His breathing falters and he tries not to notice the smirk that erupts on the face beneath him.
"Just saying that is cruel."
"Then get on with fucking me."
He spits into his hand, smothering his dick as best as he can. He doesn't even care if it hurts now. Punishment. Or something. He bends a leg over his hip and when he knows he's at the right position, pushes in roughly. The sound he makes isn't human, he's sure of it. When he's all the way in, he stills. He knows it hurts. He waits. He wants it so desperately but he knows that if he doesn't pause now, it won't end well for either of them.
It's a few tense moments of desperate panting before he receives the nod he's been waiting for, and then he starts to drag backwards, feeling the tight muscles not wanting to let him leave, and then he shoves back in, opening him back up. His eyes roll in his head at how tight it is, how unbelievably hot he thinks he might drown. Or suffocate. But he slowly finds a rhythm as his hips snap back and forth and the pants turn to moans beneath him and he knows, he knows, so he changes the line he's been drilling and there's a choked sob as he pounds quicker into that spot, hitting it again and again. And then there are fingers in his hair, a messy, sloppy kiss that's filled with desperation and he slams in hard and then there's a scream into his neck as the heat around him constricts further and warmth making their bellies slippery and he's close too and it's once, twice, thrice and then he's choking on air as his body shudders violently and he struggles to hold himself up because the spasms are so strong.
He takes a few minutes, panting into a sweaty neck and feeling his own sweat streaking across the muscles in his body. And then there's a whimper and he understands, so he pulls out and kisses a cheek gently.
"Maybe you should use shitty pick-up lines more often."
He laughs. "I definitely should if they lead to this."
"Although one of these days, I may just insist it was so terrible that I refuse to let you fuck me."
Darren kisses him softly, because he doesn't have a response to that and he knows it's an empty threat anyway.
"You can't kiss me so sweetly." It's whiny and Darren raises an eyebrow. "It's totally at odds to how rough you just fucked me."
He rolls his eyes, kisses him again. "Shut up, Colfer."
He wriggles his hips a little, feeling the awkward sticky feeling between them drying and becoming a little uncomfortable with it. "Or…I'll fuck you again."
"Now who's being cruel?"
A/N: This came from Lea saying that Darren was really flirty when they went out...and so my fangirl mind was imagining me and it was so utterly ridiculous that I replaced myself. forever alone.