The music was blaringly loud, making his eardrums throb and his heart beat in time to the bass. The air was thick with the smell of perfume, alcohol, and the unmistakable scent of too many people crowded in one room. All around him, people swayed, bobbed, danced, and even grinded to the music. If he hadn't been so drunk himself, he would have been rating them on a scale from sober to full-out plastered. But alas, his brain was dealing with the effects of too much vodka, and the fact that the crazy glasses he was wearing were fogging up his already somewhat impaired vision did not help the situation as all.

Not for the first time that night, Chris Colfer wondered why he had bothered to drink anything at all. He knew he was a lightweight. He knew that he had the tendency to do some really stupid things when drunk (not to mention when he was sober – but at least when he was sober he was aware of how ridiculous his actions were). He knew that after a few drinks his brain filter just disappeared and he no longer was in control of what he is saying. He knew all that and more. So why did he have all those shots with Max and Ashley a half hour or so ago?

He didn't know.

Suddenly he felt a tug on his silver-cloth covered wrist. The force of the tug was not that strong, but the combination of surprise and the lack of control he now had in his own bodily movements, he found himself being pulled along through the dense throngs of dancing people. He tried to catch a glimpse of his kidnapper, but somehow along the way his glasses had slid to the side, blocking his vision. He tried to push them back in place but found that his hand was too busy being pulled along to do anything about it. In a more cognizant state, he would have just used his other hand, but he had momentarily forgotten that, indeed, he had two of those bad boys.

Finally, the perpetrator stopped and let go of his wrist. As Chris fumbled with his glasses, he heard a deep (and somewhat slurred) chuckle in front of him. Just as he managed to (finally) set them straight across his eyes, he heard someone ask, "Just take those ridiculous things off."

Even before his eyes fully adjusted, he saw a flash of green and instantly knew it was Darren. Of course Darren had been the one to kidnap him. Why did he expect anything different?

Darren grinned like the weirdo he was, but his smile was somewhat obscured by the big grey…thing on his nose. Chris laughed. "Look who's talking Darren," and he reached out to pet the nose. Darren laughed and allowed Chris to drunkenly stroke his makeshift elephant nose. "Touché Colfer. Touché."

They both sat there for a few seconds, giggling like little teenagers with Chris still stroking Darren's nose. Then, as though he suddenly became aware of what he was doing, Chris quickly drew his hand back and looked away. Even in the dim light of the party Darren could see the blush creeping its way down his friend's neck. That is really adorable. He thought. Wait…what?

Before Darren had time to elaborate on his sudden endearingly un-straight thoughts, Chris cleared his throat and asked, "So why did you drag me all the way over here, Darren?"

"What…Oh, right! I had something to show you! It's so awesome!" And then Darren was dragging Chris along once more, until finally stopping right at the base of the staircase.

"Wow Darren. A staircase. I've never seen one of these before." Chris said, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. But Darren just turned around, his grin spreading like across his face like the Cheshire cat, and he replied, "It's not the staircase I wanted to show you. It's what's under the staircase."

He led Chris to the side of the staircase, where there was a small door. Darren stood there smugly, his arms crossed over his green suit and a look of pure excitement twinkling in his hazel eyes. Chris stared at the door, not understanding. He flashed a confused look to Darren, whose smile immediately dropped.

"Don't you get it Chris – It's a cupboard under the stairs!"

That sounded vaguely familiar to Chris, but his head was still foggy with vodka to make the connection.

"Like in Harry Potter…" Darren offered, his voice decidedly less enthusiastic.

"Wha – OH!" Chris exclaimed, mentally face-palming himself. "I can't believe I didn't get that…"

"Yeah, me neither." Darren laughed. "And you call yourself a Potterhead,"

"Well not all of us had the option to play Mr. Harry Freaking Potter himself in college now, did we?" Chris retorted, his voice sarcastic but his eyes shining playfully.

"What can I say? I'm just totally awesome like that," Darren shrugged. "Now come on! Let's go inside!" He opened the door to the closet and leaned down to crawl inside under all the coats.

"Wait what?" Chris asked incredulously. His mind was becoming clearer – maybe it had been a lot longer than he thought since his last drink. "We can't do that Darren."

"Why not!" Darren pouted, his puppy dog eyes big as he looked up at Chris from under his eyelashes. Chris started laughing – Darren just looked absolutely ridiculous. He might have been able to take him seriously, if not for the Babar costume. Which, by the way, he adored Darren for. Who didn't love Babar? Babar was like, the emblem of his childhood.

"Because, Darren!" Chris finally managed to choke out. "You can't just go into random people's closets!"

"But…it's Harry Potter!" Darren insisted, as if that was reason enough. "Come on Chris! You know you want to! It'll be fun, I promise. And if someone gets mad at us for hanging out amongst their coats and shoes and stuff I'll just tell them I made you do it."

Chris looked torn. Darren gave him his best puppy-dog stare and whined "Pleeeeeeeeeease Chris?"

Chris looked down at Darren, sighed, and dropped down next to him. He pulled off his glasses and headgear. "Just don't crawl over my cape," he warned as he pushed aside the winter coats and crawled inside.

Obviously, it was cramped, what with the fifty winter jackets all lined up. Chris silently cursed himself for giving into Darren, who crawled in after him, his hat and nose gone, and shut the door with a bang.

"Well this is…fun." Chris spoke into the complete darkness surrounding him. Then, because he couldn't help it, he just stated laughing. The whole situation was insane. Who crawls into random closets at a party? After a few seconds Chris realized Darren was laughing with him.

"I'm sorry Chris. I guess drunk-Darren has some weird ideas." Darren chuckled, reaching blindly to pat Chris on the arm. But Chris had his legs drawn up, and because both of them couldn't see anything in the dark closet, Darren ended up patting him on the leg. Chris drew in his breath sharply.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe just the intimacy of this incredibly small closet, or maybe even just because Chris's hormones surged every time he was around Darren, but the small, meaningless pat on the leg was doing things to him. Inappropriate things. Things that friends shouldn't think about friends.

Chris pulled away. "Uh..I think we should get out now," he squeaked, embarrassed about how thin and high his voice sounded.

"Why?" Darren asked, completely oblivious. "I kind of like it in here. Just two dudes, chilling in a closet while there's a huge party going on outside." He reached out to grab Chris, his eyes more adjusted then they had been moments before, to stop him from leaving the closet. "Stay," he said, surprised at the pleading in his own voice.

Chris paused for a moment, then resigned and sat back down next to Darren. He took a few deep breath to calm himself and tried to will the butterflies in his stomach away. Darren scooted right up next to him and laid his head on his shoulder. "See," he said jokingly. "I don't bite."

Chris couldn't stop himself from groaning. He pushed Darren's head away and placed his hands over his face.

"What's wrong?" Darren asked.

"Nothing," Chris answered. Everything he thought. This whole situation. I shouldn't be feeling like this. He's one of my best friends! It's wrong on so many levels!

"Come on Chris, I know when you're acting. I see you do it on a daily basis, remember? Tell me what's up."

"Darren, I can't tell you. It will just make things incredibly awkward between us and ruin our friendship." Chris sighed.

"Come on Chris. We're in a closet for god's sake. I'm pretty sure you can tell me anything and it will not weird me out."

Chris looked at him skeptically. Even in the darkness, Darren could make out that look. "I promise." He said softly.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds, their eyes locked. There was this strange intensity that Darren couldn't quite make out, and it scared him. But he forced himself to keep looking at Chris, as if he could will Chris into talking to him just by staring at him. He expected Chris to look away first.

But Chris didn't. He found himself scooting closer to Darren without even realizing it. Or was it Darren that was moving in? He didn't know. All he knew was that now, their faces were mere inches apart. He could feel Darren's breath against his face. It was warm and ragged. And yet they didn't break eye contact.

It was a stupid thought, but Darren had the feeling that if he looked away now, something terrible would happen. The world would end, or one of them would die, or there would be some natural disaster of some sort. He couldn't pinpoint why he felt this way, but he just knew that it was imperative that he didn't move away. Plus, he realized, he didn't want to.

Looking into Chris's blue eyes, he saw uncertainty, and fear, and a strange animalistic look he couldn't quite place. And before he realized he had moved closer, he was kissing Chris. Kissing Chris with such intensity and fever that he had to break away for air several seconds later.

But then Chris's lips were on his again, and he decided that, hey, maybe air wasn't so important. Because there was nothing, nothing, that he needed more than Chris to continue kissing him.

He leaned back onto the carpet of the closet, slowly pulling Chris down with him. Chris moaned into the kiss, and Darren took that as an incentive to bring his tongue into the party. He slowly, tentatively licked a stripe across Chris's mouth, and Chris shivered against him, opening his mouth to allow him better access.

And then Darren was exploring Chris's mouth with his tongue, charting every inch and filing it away in the back of his mind. Chris tasted like coffee and vodka and something that Darren couldn't quite place but wanted more of. He broke away for a moment. Chris instantly panicked.

Oh no, he thought. He's realizing this is all a mistake. He's going to tell me he is straight, or that were just friends, or that maybe we should stop hanging out from now on, or…

His thoughts were cut off as Darren pushed him down so that he was underneath and began attacking his neck with his lips and teeth. "God, Darren" Chris breathed, his voice huskier than it had been a moment ago. Darren moaned against his neck. "You taste like heaven," he whispered, before attacking his neck once more.

Chris was rock hard by now, and it was getting uncomfortable. He shifted positions slightly to try and make it less awkward, but somehow his knee ended up between Darren's legs and, well what do you know, Darren was just as hard as he was.

Darren sat up, his eyes dark and a look of pure animal lust all over his face. "Less clothes," he said, his voice broken with desire. It was all Chris could do to nod. He started to remove his costume, which suddenly became a lot less awesome and a lot more annoying. "God dammit." He muttered as he tried to get out of his cape.

"Here, let me help," Darren offered. His green jacked was already off, as well as his bowtie and his belt. He unhooked the cape of Chris's wrists and gently pulled the entire thing off. Then he slowly began unbuttoning Chris's silvery shirt, revealing the milky white skin beneath. He seemed to glow in the darkness of the closet, and Darren couldn't help himself. He brought his lips to Chris's now-exposed shoulder and sucked a dark, angry purple mark. Chris groaned as Darren marked his territory, unbuttoning his shirt more and more as he moved lower and lower down Chris's torso. Darren paused at Chris's nipple, then sucked lightly. Chris arched his back and grabbed Darren's hair, who groaned. "Fuck Darren, someone's going to…ah…someone will hear!"

"Not if we are really quiet," Darren whispered, pulling the rest of Chris's shirt off and discarding it in the corner with Chris's cape.

It was too dark for Darren to see Chris's toned and lean chest, but he could feel it underneath his roaming fingertips. He kissed Chris again, his urgent lips and tongue battling against Chris's equally fervent ones. Chris tugged at Darren's shirt, which Darren made quick work of and tossed it aside. He leaned back down to kiss Chris some more, burying his hands in his hair as Chris wrapped his arms around Darren's torso.

He was so hard that he was sure if this kept going the way it was going, he would come without any below the belt touching at all. But apparently Darren didn't feel the same. As the kiss got more and more heated, Darren couldn't stop himself from rocking his hips forward. Chris gasped, his hands instantly moving to grab Darren's ass and pull him closer. "Do that again," he said, and suddenly Darren was rocking into him with shameless abandon. Even with half of both of their costumes still in between them, Chris had never felt anything this amazing in his life. "Darren…I'm so close." He groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet Darren's. Darren nodded, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. "Me…fuck…me too Chris."

Their thrusting became more erratic and sharp. Chris felt like he was drowning – it was all too much. The closet had become hot and stuffy and Darren's body was warm against his own and everything was just so intense. His hands moved from Darren's ass to Darren's hair to Darren's back to at his sides. He felt the burning coil in his stomach and then he was coming. Coming harder than he had ever come in his life, practically screaming as he did so.

That's all it took for Darren to climax – seeing Chris so positively wrecked beneath his as his body wracked with his own orgasm. His lips found their way to Chris's and he kissed him lazily. Then, almost reluctantly, he pulled himself off a Chris, wincing at the squishiness in his boxers.

"Wow," Chris said, still breathing pretty hard.

"That's one way to describe it." Darren said, his hand clutching the back of his neck nervously.

"I hope no one heard that." Chris said, motioning to the commotion outside. "I mean, I doubt it, seeing as everything is so loud, but still…"

No one said anything for a few seconds, in which Darren coughed awkwardly and Chris fidgeted around a lot. Finally, Chris broke the silence.

"If you want to forget this ever happened, I understand." He said, his voice small but at least not squeaky.

"No!" Darren said, with an intensity that shocked both of them. "I mean, I…I liked it Chris. I liked it a lot." He leaned forward and grabbed Chris's hand. "I like you."

They stayed like that for a second, both silent, until Chris said, "So what does this mean for us? Are we dating or…"

"Well not yet." Darren laughed. "First I need to take you out on a proper date."

"Just don't expect anything afterwards," Chris warned mockingly. "Not on the first date at least."

Darren laughed. "Somehow, I don't think that really matters anymore. But I do think its time we get out of this closet, don't you think?"

"God yes, I can't breathe in here!" Chris said, fumbling around for his clothes. "You know, it took me like an hour to get into this costume."

"Well it was pretty fantastic Mr. Colfer." Darren teased. "The only problem I had with it was how difficult it was to get off of you."

"Shut up," Chris laughed, shoving Darren. Darren leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Chris's lips. He lingered for a few moments, then pulled back.

"What was that for?" Chris asked, his voice quiet.

Darren shrugged. "I wanted to do it." He smiled, and Chris shook his head, smiling back.

"Now come on my cute little sea-monkey. Let's get out of this cramped cupboard." He pulled his green jacket on, straightened his tie, and put his hat and nose back on. "I'm all ready, how about you?"

"Shut up," Chris muttered, still attempting to get his cape back on. "This is a lot easier in the light, I'll have you know."

"Here," Darren said, leaning forward and fastening the cape to Chris's wrists. "All done. Let's go."

"Wow. Impatient much?" Chris laughed. "Wait one second." He grabbed his head bobble thingies and his sunglasses, positioned them on his face, and smoothed his shirt down. "Alright, now we can leave."

No one seemed to notice the two guys scrambling out of the closet, nor did they really notice how they held hands the rest of the night. It wasn't until Chris got home in the early hours of the morning and was removing his costume that he noticed he was missing his tail. It must have come off while they had been going at it in the closet. He grinned, a little thought bunny suddenly springing up in his mind. He grabbed his phone and typed out a quick tweet, barely even bothering to proofread it like he normally does. As he crawled under his covers and went to sleep, he wondered if Darren would have the guts to reply.