A Beautiful Boyfriendship

Chapter Four: Let's Kiss and Make Up. Or Not.

Salut! (That's French for hey.)

But: a word. If you like this story, of if you're a Klainiac, or both, check out "You Were The Song." It's amazing, and its two co-authors are super awesome too!

I don't own Glee, Chris, Darren, etc.

Anyway, let us begin!

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Oh, my gosh. What an embarrassment. I kept thinking that to myself as I rubbed the same spot of cheek for the umpteenth time. It was getting pretty raw by now, since I'd been rubbing it for the past half hour, but I couldn't bring myself to leave my trailer.

The trailer. It was this stupid thing's fault the whole incident happened in the first place! If the bathroom wasn't so stinking tiny, then I wouldn't have had to clean Darren's face off for him. If I hadn't had to clean his face, then he wouldn't have looked up at me. If he hadn't looked at me, I wouldn't be standing here friend- and roomate-less. Because Darren can't want to continue living with me after my little gay show.

Can he?

Of course not, Chris, don't delude yourself. Darren. Is. STRAIGHT! And you're gay. Big difference there. Obviously.

I know I said it once before, but I'll say it again: I was so embarrassed! I couldn't believe I let myself just sit there and look into his eyes like a silly fangirl. One of the main reasons Darren and I's relationship as friends and roomates worked so well was that Darren was a very accepting person. Also, I didn't openly discuss, refer to, or act upon my sexual orientation and its attraction to a Mr. Criss. You get the picture?

And now look what I'd done. I'd screwed everything up. All Darren would want to do is get the heck away from me, and I didn't blame him. Geez, I'd do the same if my straight female roomate came on to me! Oh, gosh, that's what I did, isn't it? I came on to him! Oh, shit.

Bang, bang, bang. Someone was knocking at my door. Probably Amber or Ashley coming by to figure out why it'd taken me the good part of an hour to do something that normally takes 5-10 minutes. I took a deep breath in relief. Thank the Lord. Maybe I could get all this crap off my chest. I hurried to the door and opened it with a grateful sigh.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here, I'm-" I trailed off when I saw who it was.

***

After Chris told me to leave, I slowly got up and dried my hands on a towel. So softly, that I'm sure he didn't hear it, I said, "I don't want to leave." But I did leave, for Chris. I exited the trailer and walked aimlessly around the other actors' and actresses' trailers. Every so often, I saw someone.

From Cory: "Hey, Criss, it's really cool you're on cast. I can't wait to work with you."

From Naya: "Darren, it's so nice to meet you. I'm going to let you know now:  I am very ashamed of the rude things Santana will ultimately say to your character."

From Amber: "Darren Criss. You seem nice, but you better be nice to my little Boo or else."

Everyone seemed pleasant and accomodating...except Amber, who honestly, scared me quite a bit. I was polite, if detached, when answering. Finally, I gave up. I needed to go talk to Chris and get this whole thing sorted out.

So that's how I found myself walking back in the direction I'd come from not thirty minutes ago. I stopped at the door, mustering my courage, before knocking three times in quick succession.

Bang, bang, bang. Keep it together, Darren. It's just Chris. Chris, your best friend, your roomate, your costar...the love of your life. Chris, the--guy who just opened the door of his trailer and was talking. Listen!