So this sort of leads on from The Neck Thing, but not really. Basically Chris kinda likes being bitten, and when Darren finds out I’m sure you can imagine his response. Because I like biting and fics where these two make out.
Unbetad because I’m fearless and also lazy.
Darren would be the first to admit that sometimes he could get a little carried away. Sometimes he would respond too enthusiastically, or forget where the lines between his character and himself were chalked until he was blurring them so frequently he could barely keep track.
But this, this genuinely started as an accident. It started as the result of a sixteen hour schedule and actually letting Mark talk him into drinking whatever it was they even put in the coffee cups he mimed with, because that shit was not coffee and Darren hadn’t felt the same since. Regardless he’d spent the last two hours kissing Chris Colfer in a confined space, and Chris was curled into his chair with his headphones in and music blaring between scenes, but slung his arm around Darren’s neck and smiled sleepily and said “Come on lover, maybe if we kiss faster there’s a higher chance we’ll actually be allowed to go home tonight,” as he dragged Darren back towards the car.
Darren managed a laugh that faded into a wide yawn and clambered backwards over the seats, pulling Chris on top of him into a position that was now almost laughably familiar
It should have been easy; half an hour at most and then Darren could leave and maybe scrape a few hours of sleep before he had to be back tomorrow. Chris was yawning between his legs, his eyes drooping and chin balancing on his hand as he half listened to Ryan’s directions.
It should have been simple.
Maybe Darren’s mind drifted for just a split second, his concentration waning just enough for his lips to close too soon and break the rhythm they had long set in motion.
He didn’t know.
Darren’s teeth scraped along Chris’s lips, fastening for just a second too long around his bottom lip and sucking it into his own mouth. Biting.
Chris gasped, his breath stilted against Darren’s mouth and suddenly his lips were parting, his tongue wet and thrusting against Darren’s, licking up and under his teeth as Darren’s eyes flew open and his head spun. His arms clutched at Chris’s waist, tugging him closer between his legs and he twisted his head, catching Chris’s tongue between his teeth and scraping it hard.
And Chris flared, his hands flying up to fist in Darren’s shirt over his stomach, head pressing down and harder until Darren’s back was arched and his neck twisted, his body cramped painfully against the seat, and Chris’s cool fingers slid beneath his buttons and across his skin as he bucked in closer until their hips were sliding and locking together.
Darren tugged at his shirt, rumpling the fabric up until he could feel Chris’s skin, hot and damp and his fingers were pressing past his belt to dig into the firm swell of Chris’s ass.
Chris moaned into his mouth, fingers fumbling through buttons until his palm lay flat over Darren’s stomach, stroking where it trembled under his hand and he grasped one thigh, hooking it higher around his waist until Darren could rock harder against him, jerking every time he pressed against Chris’s thigh. Darren could feel himself growing harder, aching and straining to push and grind against Chris’s warmth, and Chris was thrusting back, writhing under Darren’s fingers and gasping wetly into his mouth and –
Darren didn’t need to see more than the blurry outline of Chris’s face in the darkness to know his expression mirrored Darren’s own and hovered somewhere between what the fuck and that wasn’t supposed to happen.
Darren worked it out in a much shorter time than he suspected.
Really it wasn’t hard, once he’d started to think about it and they had a lot of long shoots together, giving Darren plenty of time to collect his thoughts and come to a few roughly sketched conclusions.
“Are you a virgin?” he said, dropping into the seat beside Chris one lunchtime.
“Nope,” Chris said, not looking up as his pen scratched unceasingly across the page, “Sorry.”
“Darren, it’s three am.”
“Do you hold a particular fondness for that liquid they put in the Lima Bean cups –”
“ –Because I’ve literally just discovered that it is actually coffee. It’s just very old very strong coffee that’s actually been there weeks, and –”
“ –I didn’t realise you actually weren’t supposed to drink it but –”
“I’m hanging up on you now.”
“ – I think I’m trying to ask you if you like coffee?”
“Did you win anything good?”
At least Chris had the decency to look up as Darren sat opposite him, staring contemplatively into his soup.
“I presumed it was the girls, I mean you didn’t really see the guys all day and well –”
Chris’s hands clasped around his face, forcing their eyes together and frowning.
“What on earth are you talking about? I mean I can usually follow you, but lately you’ve been making actually no sense.”
Darren stared at him, his cheeks squashed by Chris’s palms and a pitifully confused furrow appearing between his brows.
“You kissed me,” he said finally in a small voice.
“It’s my job,” Chris said, rolling his eyes and pulling back to poke at the food on his plate, “I can stop if you want, but you have to answer the hate mail.”
“No I mean, you kissed me,” Darren repeated, “Like, that was not a stage kiss, Colfer. That was not a KurtandBlaine kiss. That was a you kiss.”
Chris’s cheeks flushed slightly and he bit his lip, staring hard in the opposite direction.
They were silent.
“So I’m sorry. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I just…” Chris dropped his fork, rubbing one hand across his forehead as his cheeks burned and Darren opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly stupid, but Chris held up a hand to shut him up.
“You bit me,” he finished feebly, meeting Darren’s eyes.
“Yeah. Sorry about –”
“No, Darren. I liked it, okay. I like…” his arms gestured wildly for a moment, “Biting. I just…do. And I kind of forgot myself and I’m sorry.”
“Woah, man. Stop apologising okay. It was fucking fine. Better than fine, good-fine. Awesome-fine if we’re really gonna go into it. I was completely a-fucking-okay with all the kissing that happened.”
“Then why have you been asking me strange questions?”
“Because I was curious. Just because I was cool with the kissing doesn’t mean I didn’t want to know where the fuck it came from. I made a list and everything. There was even a flowchart.”
They were silent for a moment.
“So…you like being bitten?”
“Shut up, Darren.”
“You know…I have teeth.”
“Eat your soup.”
“I want to bite you.”
Darren didn’t do preamble.
Chris frowned and turned away, leaving his front door open and falling back onto the couch, leaning forwards to tap against the laptop on the coffee table.
“Hello to you too,” he said eventually, when Darren didn’t move from the doorway, “You’re letting in a draft.”
Darren looked from the open door to the street, back to Chris who was cocking his head and observing Darren with an amused wariness one usually reserves for a new pet, before looking back to the door.
“You close it.”
The door clicked closed and Chris typed even faster, leaving Darren lingering next to him.
“Chris did you hear me?”
“Uhuh. But I had no response, so I thought I would ignore you.”
Darren considered him for a moment, then stalked towards the couch and slid over the arm, settling his body so Chris was between his legs, and Darren’s arms wrapped tight and warm around his waist.
“I want to bite you, Chris,” his voice slipped lower, rough behind Chris’s ear and every breath was jolting in his chest, “I want to hear the noises you make. I want to see your skin turn that pretty shade of pink under my teeth. I want you to moan under me. I want to see.”
Chris quivered slightly, his neck tipping to the side as Darren’s mouth moved over it, hovering and breathing.
“Please,” he was barely whispering now, his voice a cracked murmur and Darren could barely believe how desperate he sounded but Chris was pushing his ass backwards into Darren’s crotch, slotting their bodies together and whimpering and Darren was barely even touching him, “Please, Chris.”
Chris breathed out once, letting his head drop shakily back against Darren’s shoulder and his eyes flutter closed.
Darren let his lips brush just beneath his ear, just once.
Chris swallowed, one hand coming up to brush against the back of Darren’s head.
Darren nodded into the crook of his neck, kissing the skin once, twice and letting his tongue lap over it. He breathed against the wet stripe until Chris shivered, goosebumps spreading across his scalp and his fingers tangled into Darren’s hair.
And then he bit him, teeth pressing dents into Chris’s soft neck and he arched upwards with a cry, one hand flying down to grip painfully to Darren’s knee.
Darren sucked, pulled away with a wet pop and let him mouth slide messily down across Chris’s throat, the hand in his hair pressing Darren’s head harder against his skin and Chris’s pulse thundering against his ears.
“Oh fuck,” Chris gasped, and Darren’s hips were thrusting up in tiny motions, his erection pressing painfully against his zipper as Chris rubbed backwards against him, rocking hard into Darren’s lap.
“Again, fuck. Darren, harder!”
Darren’s lips found the spot behind his ear, his teeth grazing across Chris’s earlobe and down to fix over his collarbone and dig into the skin there and Chris howled, moaning and rocking until he was panting mess in Darren’s lap and he could barely stand it anymore.
He flipped them over, ignoring Chris’s squeak of shock and discomfort and then they were both crashing off the couch cushions and onto the floor.
“Darren! What the –”
“Shut up,” Darren said, fingers scrambling with the hem of Chris’s shirt as he wrenched it up and over his head, trapping and tangling his arms in the sleeves and pinning Chris tight between his knees.
And then he was biting down his chest, teeth catching on one nipple before he moved down to drag them hard over every dip and curve of Chris’s ribs, and he was bucking upwards, arching against Darren’s mouth with his arms stretched, useless over his head, fingers clenching into the twisted cotton of his shirt.
“Oh god, fuck. Do that again…”
So Darren did, and he rubbed one palm over his erection, cupping and squeezing himself as Chris writhed under his lips and teeth, his chest littered and bruises with hard purple patches. And the harder Darren let his teeth dig, the more he sucked and pulled at Chris’s skin, staining and marking it with purple and red; the more Chris begged and rocked, the straining cock in his pants bumping against Darren’s throat and chin with every desperate thrust upwards, and he wanted more, so, so much more and so much harder.
Darren’s hands tugged at his belt and zipper, pulling Chris’s pants down to his thighs and his mouth fell hot and wet over the damp cotton clinging to his cock, mouthing over the darker, wet patch and rubbing his tongue deep and hard against the warm skin.
Chris’s voice dropped to a deep groan, hips pushing towards Darren’s mouth until his hands moved to clasp them down and his lips dragged up to scrape between his hipbones. He bit at the dents in Chris’s hips, sucking at the sensitive skin lower and lower, until his chin pushed beneath the cotton and his nose pressed into the darkening trail of hair from Chris’s navel.
“Darren, fuck. Please,” Chris was whimpering, arms thrashing free over his head and flying down to clutch into his hair, pushing Darren’s shoulder’s down but wrenching his hair up and Darren looked up to see Chris’s eyes wild, his cheeks red and lips bitten raw and he was so wanton and so desperate and fucking needy, with every inch of his pale skin branded with the shape of Darren’s mouth.
“What do you want, Chris?” Darren whispered into his hip, his cheek lying flat against the sharp bone and one hand dipping down to stroke lazily over Chris’s cock.
“Anything. Fuck, you. Everything…I want, fuck. I need you,” Chris was moaning half words and barely formed sentences, legs spreading wider to pull Darren between them and his jeans pooling down to his ankles.
“Okay,” Darren said, “Okay. But I have one request.”
Chris made a broken noise.
“I want to hear every sound you make. I don’t want you to hold back, I want to hear you scream.”
And Chris sure knew how to scream, Darren discovered, when he finally peeled his sticky boxers off and pushed his legs apart, letting his mouth slide wet from the base of his cock down between his cheeks. Chris knew how to shriek Darren’s name when his teeth tightened into his inner thigh, stubble scratching over the red raw skin where he was already too sensitive but he pulled Darren’s head closer anyway.
He knew how to part his legs beneath Darren’s hands and how to thrust his cock hard against the back of his throat, fucking into his mouth as Darren slipped his own hand inside his jeans and jerked himself roughly to the same pace.
And when Darren let his teeth scrape the underside of Chris’s cock, pulling off to nip along the skin at the base and suck across the vein, Chris knew how to come so hard he almost blacked out, pulling Darren’s hair a little too hard and forcing his cock a little too deep and Darren was wincing and spluttering and coming into his own hand as he swallowed around Chris, gulping and gasping around his cock until his fingers loosened in Darren’s hair.
Darren pulled away when he could, come dripping from his lips and down his throat and let his head fall onto Chris’s trembling stomach.
“I guess,” Chris choked out, minutes or hours later, his voice hoarse, “That this means we’re even.”