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The bone-deep relief Darren feels at being back in L.A. settles in as soon as his plane touches down. He knows he only has a few days off before he’ll be back at it– catching flights cross-country, showing up at events he hardly remembers agreeing to, meeting people who keep him in a perpetual state of star-struck fanboying– but even a few days at home feels like a godsend. That’s not to say that the tour wasn’t beyond-words-incredible, or that spending time with the Starkids in Chicago wasn’t fantastic. He’s had an amazing month. But he misses home. He misses his bed, his shower, his kitchen. Most of all, though, he misses Chris. They had just missed each other in Paris, and despite his best efforts, Chris hadn’t been able to make it to any of his shows. It was too big a risk. So when all’s said and done, they haven’t seen each other in person since Chris’s birthday.
Darren goes all the way home, unpacks, and showers before he calls Chris. They catch up on anything they haven’t discussed over phone or Skype in the last few days. Darren feels uncharacteristically shy. He doesn’t want to just invite himself over; that feels way too much like a booty call. Luckily, Chris saves him the trouble.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Chris says, hushed and low, like it’s a secret. Darren supposes it is. “I want to see you. I know you’ve got to be exhausted, but do you want to-?”
“Yes,” Darren interrupts. “Fuck, yes.”
He gets to Chris’s house in record time. It’s just past two in the morning and he runs a couple of red lights because, well, there aren’t many cars around. It’s reckless, but Darren, over-tired and over-excited, isn’t thinking rationally.
Upon arriving, he lets himself in with his key and is immediately engulfed in a vice-tight hug. Darren collapses into it, the last of his weariness from travelling draining away. He holds Chris close, pressed chest-to-chest, gripping the back of his t-shirt with both bands. Chris’s hair, soft and un-styled, tickles his cheek.
He pulls back and shushes Chris when he makes a small noise of protest. “Shh, I want to see your face.” He slides his hands around to hold Chris’s waist. “God I missed you.”
Chris quirks a smile. He keeps his hands hung loosely around Darren’s neck. “I missed you, too.”
His eyes are bright and happy, and Darren thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful shade of blue in his life. He grins and leans forward to get a closer look, to re-memorize the colour, and then he brushes a soft kiss on Chris’s lips because they’re right there.
Chris sighs softly, angling to deepen the kiss. Darren goes along happily, letting Chris suck on his tongue and tug gently on his bottom lip. But after just a minute or two, Chris is detaching their mouths and tightening his arms around him for another hug. “We don’t have to,” he breathes into Darren’s ear. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just sleep. You must be so drained. We have all weekend-”
“I want to,” Darren whispers back, nuzzling into Chris’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “Please. I don’t care how tired I am. I just-” he places three short kisses just below Chris’s jaw line, “I need to feel you. Everywhere, I need you everywhere. Please, Chris.”
Chris huffs out a laugh when Darren’s mouth attaches itself more fully to his neck. “Oh, alright then. Come on, I want you in my bed.”
Darren pulls back, grinning widely, and gives Chris one last smacking kiss on the lips before he’s kicking his shoes off and sliding in his sock-clad feet over to the stairs. He looks back once to make sure Chris is following him, and finds the sweetest expression of mixed exasperation and excitement staring back at him. Darren winks cheekily and bounds up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.
Chris’s bedroom is the just to the left of the landing. His bed is so wide an inviting, with plush white pillows and a deep brown comforter. Darren decides to save them the trouble and pulls it down to the end of the bed, folding it clumsily in half and then in quarters and sitting it on the floor at the foot of the bed. Then he pulls down the sheets, grabs the lube from Chris’s night table drawer, and tosses it on the bed. He’s just in the process of pulling off his t-shirt, has it bunched up somewhere around his shoulders, when Chris appears in front of him. He slides his hands up Darren’s chest, fingers twisting in his chest hair briefly. Darren lifts his arms and Chris pulls the shirt the rest of the way off before tossing it aside. Then he’s shoving Darren’s sweatpants down his hips. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes on the task at hand, and when Darren tries to lean in for a kiss he pushes him towards the bed. Darren kicks his sweatpants off and jumps up on the mattress, bouncing a couple times before settling back onto the pillows, dressed only in his boxers. His half-hard cock is already bulging out at the front.
Chris has never been showy when it comes to getting naked. He has a knack for getting out of ridiculously tight jeans in fifteen seconds or less, a talent Darren has always envied. He tugs his shirt over his head and shimmies out of his jeans with his trademark speed and efficiency, except this time he brings his boxer-briefs right down with them.
Darren chokes a little at the sight of Chris’s cock. It’s been so fucking long, and he’s missed it. Long, thick, and already starting to harden and flush a dark pink– Darren never thought he’d think of a dick as “pretty”, but there it is. His mouth actually waters a little when his gaze focuses on the thick head. He sits up on his knees and reaches forward to grasp Chris’s hand. Darren tugs him up onto the bed before letting go to cup his face and kiss him deeply.
“Let me blow you,” he breathes in the space between their lips. “Please, I want to suck you off so bad. Please, let me.”
Chris breathes out harshly, fingering the waistband of Darren’s boxers. “Yes. God, Darren, you don’t even have to ask.”
Moaning happily, Darren manoeuvers them so Chris is lying on his back, head cushioned on the pillows, and Darren is positioned over top of him. He goes back to work on the hickey below Chris’s jaw, nips of teeth placed intermittent with little licks to sooth the sting. In the meantime, Chris shoves down Darren’s boxers and starts stroking his cock to full hardness.
It’s only a few minutes before Chris has a wet, purpling bruise on his neck and Darren is a sweaty, panting mess. He’s started fucking the channel of Chris’s fist, precum beading at the tip and slicking the slide. “Chris,” he gasps. “This is going to be over way too fast if you keep– oh.” The rest of his sentence is cut off by a choked moan when Christ twists his wrist just as the head of Darren’s cock nudges at his palm. “I’m gonna suck you now, okay?”
Chris is breathing shallowly and his eyes are a little glazed the way they get whenever Darren marks him up. He manages a breathy “uh huh”. He strokes through Darren’s hair, rubbing little circles over his temple with his thumb. Darren leans into the touch for a moment before he’s kissing down Chris’s torso, laving both nipples with his tongue and sucking a kiss over his bellybutton. He’s not a patient guy, though, so once he has Chris’s cock in front of him he wastes no time in sucking the head into his mouth. Chris lets out a high, almost pained-sounding whine, back arching off the bed just a little. He props himself up on his elbows, bangs falling over his forehead as he watches Darren work him over.
Darren doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. He could suck Chris off every night for the rest of his life, hopes to, and never get fully accustomed to the strong, fleshy taste of him, the solid weight on his tongue, the salty tang of his precum. He pays special attention to the head, suckling gently, before he sinks down to take more of him in his mouth, all the while keeping his eyes on Chris.
Chris looks good giving head, there’s no doubt about it. The way his cheekbones stick out when he hollows his cheeks and sucks, the way his lips get all red, the smug glint in his eyes as he watches Darren fall to pieces because of him– it’s thrilling to watch. But Darren thinks he likes watching Chris receiving a blowjob even more. There’s something so raw and unadulterated about it. Chris isn’t a big lip-biter; it’s just not one of his nervous habits. But when Darren’s sucking him off, he really goes to town on his bottom lip. Sometimes he’ll bite his lips together and let his head fall back, exposing the pale expanse of his neck. He’s doing that right now, and Darren feels his cock twitch painfully at the sight of the large hickey he put there. He starts grinding down into the mattress, hips moving in little circles.
Chris is getting close, and Darren can tell by the way precum is pooling on his tongue and Chris’s balls are drawing tight up under his cock. Darren reaches up and massages them gently with his fingers, using his thumb to stroke over his perineum. Chris makes another high, keening sound, and then he’s coming. Darren pulls back so his mouth is closed just around the tip of Chris’s cock, and moans when he feels streaks of come paint the inside of his mouth. He swirls his tongue around, making sure he didn’t miss any of it, and swallows.
Darren’s about five seconds from coming himself. He releases Chris’s cock and rests his head on his stomach, humping the bed and whining his arousal. Chris stops him with a gripping hand on his shoulder.
“Ah ah, none of that,” he chastises, words only a little slurred. “Get back up here.” He motions lazily with his other hand.
Darren whimpers but does as he’s told. He scrambles up Chris’s body, straddling his hips and sliding both hands into his hair. He tilts his head up for a kiss. Chris licks into his mouth, moaning when he tastes himself.
“You’re so hot when you come, baby.”
“And you’re so hot with your perfect lips around my cock. You have stupidly long eyelashes, you know that?”
Darren grins, self-satisfied. The throbbing in his groin isn’t going away, though. He nudges his cock against Chris’s hip.
Chris laughs. “I know, honey. You need to come, don’t you?”
Darren presses his face into Chris’s neck, nodding minutely.
“You’re right on the edge, aren’t you? So turned on, just from sucking me. You like a nice cock in your mouth, don’t you sweetie? You like me coming down your throat?”
Darren whines, trying to rub up against him, but Chris isn’t having it. “No, honey. I’m gonna make you wait. Shh, I know you can handle it.” He strokes soothingly through Darren’s curls with one hand and cups one slightly stubble-rough cheek with the other. “You can wait for me, can’t you?”
“Yes,” Darren breathes, stilling the movement of his hips. “Whatever you want, Chris.”
Chris kisses him, soft and slow. “Good. Now, what I want is for you to turn over for me. On your belly, okay?” He has remarkable control over his limbs for someone who just had an orgasm. Darren can barely move after he comes. Chris helps Darren roll over and shoves a pillow under his hips. Darren has a pretty good idea where this is going and feels a little light-headed. He closes his eyes, trying to remember to breathe.
Chris smoothes his hands down Darren’s back, massaging gently, and when he gets to his ass he spread his cheeks with both hands. Darren feels his hole clench around nothing at the sudden exposure to the cool air of Chris’s bedroom. He moans when he feels Chris shift and exhale hotly over the small pucker. “Chris,” he mumbles into the sheets. “Chris, God.”
“Spread your legs, sweetheart.”
As soon as he has full access, Chris is licking broad stripes over his hole, occasionally dipping his tongue inside. He takes a break every once in a while to swirl the tip of his tongue over his perineum, drawing little circles over the taut, sensitive skin.
“That- that feels so good, baby. So perfect.” Darren pushes his ass back, fucking himself on Chris’s tongue as best he can. He reaches back to hold his cheeks apart himself so Chris can use his fingers on him. At first he just works with the spit he’s spread around and into Darren, but after the first knuckle or so, lube becomes necessary. Chris grabs the bottle from where Darren threw it earlier and squeezes a liberal amount into his palm before coating three fingers.
“This okay?” Chris asks as he’s sliding his first finger inside.
“Yeah, yes. More, you can do more.”
Darren can almost feel Chris’s amused smile, but then he’s slipping a second finger in alongside the first one and Darren loses the ability to think or feel much beyond the overwhelming need to be filled. He pushes back onto those two fingers, moaning when Chris leans back in to lick at the stretched skin around his hole. The sensation of being worked open combined with the wet drag of Chris’s tongue is almost too much to take. It’s even better when Chris adds a third finger. That’s when Darren starts babbling.
“Oh, Chris, baby please I need you inside me, I need it so bad. Come on, fuck me, please please please fuck me, Chris you have to-”
“Shh, I got you,” Chris says, pulling his fingers out and reaching for the lube bottle again. “Condom?”
Darren meets Chris’s gaze over his shoulder. “Don’t need one, you know we don’t, and I want to feel you, want you to come in me-”
“Shh,” Chris soothes again, rubbing over his back with one hand and using the other to coat his cock in lube. He positions himself at Darren’s entrance and leans over to pepper the back of his neck with kisses as he pushes in.
Darren groans loudly at the feeling of finally being filled, of finally being with Chris in a way he hasn’t been in so long. He needs some time to adjust, and then Chris is drawing back just slightly only to push back in.
“Fuck me,” Darren pleads. “Harder, come on.”
“I don’t want to go too hard, sweetie,” Chris murmurs back. “We’re going again in the morning, and I don’t want you to be sore.”
He keeps kissing him, moving from his neck to both shoulder blades in turn before returning to his neck, paying special attention to his birthmark. Darren cranes around, trying to get a good angle for a kiss, but it’s not working out too well.
“Here,” Chris says, pulling out. He scoots around so his back is against the pillows and pulls Darren on top of him. “Ride me. I want to see your face.”
Darren sinks down eagerly, smiling at Chris using his words from earlier. He’s always loved this position, the closeness of it, the way it angles Chris’s cock so there’s almost constant pressure on his prostate. He gets a good rhythm going, and then leans down for a proper kiss. It’s perfect, everything’s perfect, and before long Darren’s on the edge again.
“I’m close,” he says breathily. “I’m- so close, Chris. Can I come? Please, can I come?”
Chris has his hands on his ass, and he gives it a light squeeze at Darren’s words. “You’ve been so good for me. Waited so patiently. You can wait just a little longer, can’t you?” When Darren makes a soft, pitiful noise, he laughs. “Just a little longer, I promise. Just until I come. Don’t you want me to fill you up first, get you all wet inside?”
Darren moans loudly at that and fucks down harder, faster. Chris meets him for every thrust, breath stuttering out when Darren starts clenching rhythmically around him. He leans in and attaches his mouth over the hickey from earlier, and the movement of Chris’s hips falters and comes to a halt. Darren pulls back to see Chris’s eyes closed, mouth hanging open, and a blush colouring his cheeks. He looks beautifully blissed out, and it only takes two or three strokes of his own cock before Darren is coming right along with him, spilling over his own fist. He wipes it on the sheets; they’ll need to be washed anyway.
Chris’s eyes flutter open and he gives Darren a hazy smile. Darren nudges their noses together and captures his mouth in one last sweet kiss before he pulls off.
The feeling of come slowly dripping out of him is both erotic and slightly uncomfortable. Chris surprises him by pushing him down, rolling on top of him, and kissing him deeply while pressing two fingers back inside. Darren squirms a little– he’s over-sensitive and fully sated– but Chris doesn’t keep them in there long. After a moment he pulls them back out and shows them to Darren. They’re coated in his come. Without thinking, Darren sucks the fingers into his mouth, relishing Chris’s surprised-but-pleased grin. He feels so deliciously owned.
“We should clean up.”
“Mm. In a minute. I want to bask.” Darren stretches out, flexing his fingers and toes, then places a kiss on the top of Chris’s head. “Lay with me a while?”
Chris settles his head on Darren’s shoulder, one arm flung across his chest. He hums contentedly. “Oh, alright then. Just for a minute.”
Darren smiles. It’s good to be home.