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"There are like, issues, man," Darren says. He is drunk. Very, very drunk.
"Like, what kind?" Matt asks, draining his shot glass. He reaches for the next, hands fairly steady. His tolerance is obviously much higher than Darren's.
"Dude," Darren says, eyes rolling. His hair is a wavy mess of curls over his forehead. "Their issues have issues. I don't know shit about the parents, but you can just tell, especially from the flashback. Fuck, man. Issues." He belches and then starts singing, "Issues, and maybe then they need some tissues? Issuuuuuuessss."
Matt stares cross-eyed at this very nice young man that he's had the honor of working with for the last week. Damned pretty. Sweet as sugar. Charming as--something very, very charming.
"Yeah," he agrees, for lack of a better way to tackle it. "I mean. Okay. We sang break-up songs to each other. So I guess you may have a point."
"Oh my god," Darren breathes giddily. "Oh my god, we so did. I kind of--I kind of got the impression that Blaine was a little confused, there."
"Either that or juicy, juicy incest subplots await you," Matt throws out, saluting with his glass.
Darren laughs so hard that alcohol comes out of his nose, and they spend the next ten minutes wiping snot and drink off of his face and the table and apologizing to the waitress several times.
"I wouldn't put it past Murphy, but maybe not on Glee," Darren answers when he can breathe again, pointing his finger in that in-joke way that they've been encouraging since they read together for the first time. He raises his re-filled glass. "And in that case they would await us, big brother." Darren winks.
Matt stares at him for a moment longer than necessary, smirking. "I think you've had enough, Blaine. Come on. I'll call you a taxi."
"Hey man, you wanna test my limits, you can test 'em, I'm good, I'm so good," Darren drawls, waggling his drink.
"You're hammered, and you have a six a.m. call," Matt replies. "Don't make me call Mom."
Darren catches on, in the silliest way possible. "Just because we sang angsty songs to each other and snuggled does not mean that you can tell me how to live my life, Coop."
"Come on," Matt says, laughing, shouldering Darren out of the booth. He settles their tab at the bar, Darren clinging drunkenly to his waist--he'd tried to go for his shoulder, but it was a little out of comfortable reach.
Fucking hell, Darren is tiny.
It makes the protective older brother thing pretty easy.
Of course, he's also hot as fuck, and that makes the vaguely turned on thing pretty easy, too.
In the hotel lobby, Darren swings for the elevators at the same moment that Matt goes for the lobby doors. He'd intended to call Darren a cab and sit with him until it arrived (he's not letting Darren near his car right now), but apparently Darren has different ideas.
Matt takes out his phone, taps a quick text to Simon saying, silly drunk baby, think I might get lucky?
Simon texts back moments later, have fun, don't break him
He smirks. Matt has permission to enjoy himself while on location, but he hadn't been serious about the getting lucky part; he honestly has no reason to believe that Darren is interested. And besides, he is getting a little too old for that sort of thing.
Darren is sitting Indian-style on the floor of the lobby playing with a dog that someone has brought in. He's making a total fuss over it, and the owner is obviously a little weirded out.
He saunters over when he sees that Matt's phone has been tucked away, smiling that sweet little smile that he's been flashing all week, but his eyes are large and wet instead of that crinkled, narrow, eternally laughing shape that Darren's typically are. And when he speaks his voice is pitched higher and a little self-contained.
"I'm really tired," he says, oh so innocently. "Could I stay over with you? We could watch a movie, talk some more, before you go back to LA." His eyelashes rise and fall slowly. He's staring up at Matt with a plaintive expression, halfway between hope and low expectations.
Good god, this adorable little asshole is serious. Matt's throat dries up.
"We can watch my audition tape again," he sighs, rolling his eyes fondly. "I never watch films before I read. Throws off the flow. Takes me out of my character's head space, you know."
Darren smiles moonily and somewhat sarcastically at him. "Okay. Hey. Whatever you want, I just--I'm so glad that we're talking, and--together, you know?" He grins, wide and blinding.
Fuck.
Upstairs, Matt shrugs off his jacket and shoes and watches Darren sort of nervously do the same, arranging his shoes carefully by the door and his jacket neatly onto a coat hanger in the closet. It's so unlike Darren that Matt reels--he is really fucking serious about this, and Matt is enthralled by how easily and completely he becomes Blaine. His entire stature and voice changes. He is literally another person standing there.
It makes the hairs on the back of Matt's neck stand up.
Of course, they don't have an audition tape or even a DVD to watch, but Matt switches some random film from the nineties on the television. He hops onto the bed, sitting up at the headboard and patting the blankets.
"Front and center. I want to know what you think, Blaine."
Darren crawls carefully across the sheets and sits next to him, holding his own arms against his sides. He's a little overly conscious as he settles, and it's freakishly in character. He's not so drunk anymore--he's a little sloppy when he adjusts his ass on the bed, but not as bad as he was in the lobby. Matt doesn't even feel tipsy anymore.
They watch the movie but pretend it's the audition tape, and Darren is full of helpful observations and suggestions which Matt plays along with. Towards the end, his hand falls absent-mindedly onto Matt's thigh. His head comes down on Matt's shoulder.
"Sleepy," he admits softly, cuddling closer. "Remember when you used to come back on the holidays and we'd talk--only when you had a few drinks, we never really talked otherwise, but when you relaxed it was nice, Coop. You'd act out your roles for me and give me tips. I hated it. But I loved the attention. Even when I really hated you I still wanted you--I wanted you to notice me."
Matt shivers, turning his face and letting his mouth drift over Darren's hair. "I'm not much good at this, Blaine, but you--you know I love you, right?"
Darren's hand strokes up and down his leg. "You mean that?" He's giving off heat like a furnace. And then he turns suddenly and their noses brush. His fingers slide into the warm space where Matt's thigh and groin meet. "Remember that one Christmas, huh? We drank a lot of egg nog--so much that I threw up. You helped me clean up and put me to bed."
Fuck. Fuck, if this is going where he thinks it's going--he completely misread the signals, because Darren quite obviously is interested.
Matt can feel his cock twitch in his pants at the thought. He shouldn't, but fuck he does.
"I was drunk," he says, finally, deciding. "I--I didn't think you'd remember."
"I remember," Darren admits, sounding innocent but curious at the same time. God, his face--it's a mask of open, conflicted wanting, nothing like Darren's at all. His hand searches, finding Matt thick and hot between his legs. "I remember, Coop," he breathes, closing the distance between their mouths sloppily.
Matt kisses him back, inhaling sharply through his nose when Darren's fingers stroke over his bulge. Shit.
"Blaine. Blaine, stop, you--don't, don't have to do this, it's okay. I'm here for you, I am so sorry that I haven't been, and--"
Darren just kisses him harder. "I remember the way you curled up behind me. You're so much bigger than me. I disappeared in your arms, it felt so nice. I'd never had a boyfriend, never done anything, and I woke up and you were--" He pauses.
"Grinding against your ass in my sleep," Matt finishes, going with it easily now, tongue spearing Darren's mouth open. Shit, he tastes good, earthy and warm behind the alcohol.
"I knew exactly who I was with," Darren gasps, jerking Matt's fully erect cock through his pants, as much as he can with the limited mobility. "I woke up so--so turned on." He blushes, lowering his eyes. "I'd had a wet dream, my--my underwear--" He stops, embarrassed.
"Yeah? Tell me." Matt breathes out roughly, spreading his legs. He pops the button on his jeans and eases the zipper down, taking Darren's hand and sliding it inside of his jeans.
"Cooper," Darren whimpers.
"Come on. Don't be scared, I've got you, okay? Just--talk to me." He presses Darren's hand around him. "Touch me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that."
"My underwear was glued to my skin, so I knew I had already--but I was hard again, and you were, too, rubbing between my--cheeks."
Darren's hand is so much nicer against his naked skin, but his movements are still hesitant, unsure. He pulls back, cupping Darren's face, letting himself drown in those puppy dog, honey brown eyes. "What did you want, baby brother?"
"I wanted you to--" Darren frowns, thumbing the head of Matt's cock. "Wanted you inside of me. I dreamed out being--being--"
"Fucked?" Matt whispers, licking into Darren's mouth hungrily.
"Y-yes. But I knew you wouldn't. So instead I--I rolled over and slid under the sheets before you were even really awake. I thought I could get away with finishing before you woke up." He pauses for breath, resuming the uneven, choppy strokes. Matt is far past the age where that will get them anywhere in short time, so it's easy to just relax and let it go on. "But the second that I--licked you through your boxers, you woke up."
"Sweet little mouth," Matt drawls. He is enjoying this far more than he should; but Darren's hand feels fucking good on his dick, and the guy can kiss far too well. "Did you think I was going to be careful, to go easy on you?"
"Maybe," Darren says, sounding as young as Blaine is. "But you weren't. It was--almost better. You twisted my hair and pushed my mouth down around your--your cock." He blushes again, and Matt uses the pause to fuck up into his hand.
"Naughty, naughty, Squirt," Matt says, beginning to sweat under his clothing. "Made you choke, but that didn't put you off."
"You felt so good in my mouth. I wanted it all, every inch of your big hard cock," Darren whispers filthily, though his cheeks are bright and his eyes feverish. "You made me take it."
He's beginning to grow distracted--the talk combined with Darren's fist squeezing him tighter is making his head swim and his balls ache. "Wanted to come in your little pink mouth," he gasps out, rocking. "Wanted to fill your throat with my come. You were moaning like a whore, sucking me so wet and fast."
"Coop," Darren whines. "Please, please let me suck you now--"
Oh thank fuck.
"We shouldn't've done that, sweetie," he breathes, drawing it out just to see the flicker of panicked lust on Darren's face.
"I'll be so good," Darren says, bottom lip jutting out, voice pleading and desperate. "Please?" And his hand is still moving, squeezing Matt's balls, then back up to the shaft, then up to thumb the wet, gaping slit. "You feel so good, Coop. Just like then."
If his mouth is anywhere near as talented as his hand--
He suckles a wet kiss against the side of Darren's neck. "God, Blaine--okay, okay--"
It's probably the oddest way he's ever gotten a blowjob, but he's not about to complain.
Darren slides onto his stomach and between Matt's legs and nuzzles close--then takes his cock out of the slit at the front of his boxers. He nuzzles the shaft against his cheek and then begins kissing it.
"Don't tease me, Squirt. Come on." He slides his fingers into Darren's hair and tugs. "Give me those pretty lips."
Darren moans out loud, sucking the head into his mouth. Even his mouth is Blaine-like, unsure of its ability but not of what it wants, so Matt cups the back of his neck and drags his head down. Not quite forcing it, but not letting him pull away, either.
He hits the back of Darren's throat and groans, head falling back. "Oh, fuck, yes. That's it. So good for me, baby brother."
Darren whimpers, wet and half-choked, and comes up for air, only to dive back down again, sucking hungrily. His cheeks hollow around Matt's cock. He breathes quickly through his nose and sets to, bobbing bobbing bobbing.
It's a somewhat sloppy blowjob, thorough but overly eager. He isn't surprised. He's had all kinds, and he knows from experience that there's no way that someone as frenetic as Darren would have much patience for a slow build-up. Equally, a nervous Blaine might fumble just that way through guilty intimacy, and so--
He whines, high and sudden, when Darren comes up for air the second time, mouth shining and swollen from friction. He'd been fairly close.
Darren licks obscenely around the crown of his cock, then tongues the leaking slit. "Taste so good, Cooper."
He strokes Darren's hair, hips twisting. "Come on. Come on, don't stop, honey." He thumbs across Darren's wet mouth, then traces it with the head of his dick. "I know what you want."
Darren blushes demurely, eyelashes lowering. "Is that--okay, can I...?"
Panting and trembling, Matt fists himself slowly, nudging himself just an inch or so into that slack, eager mouth again. "Yes."
"Let me," he says, wrapping his hand around Matt's girth. "I--want to jerk you off into my mouth."
Shit. Matt feels his cock surge eagerly. He's so close.
Darren begins jacking him, smooth and unforgiving, the channel of his fist dry but hot, twisting sweetly around the tip with each pass. God, but Darren's good at that.
He watches, sweating and shaking, heartbeat pounding in his ears as he begins to come, fingers tightening in Darren's hair. He comes with a cry, shooting white over Darren's tongue, strand after strand. He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again Darren is swallowing, then licking come from the corner of his mouth. He bows low, wrapping his lips around Matt's cock and drawing on it, hard, pulling a few final drops from the slit.
Matt twitches, already too sensitive. "Fuck. Fuck, stop."
Darren blushes. "Sorry."
"Gonna let me take care of you?" Matt asks, feeling lazy and loose but still very eager to return the favor.
"I um," Darren kneels up, and--his jeans are soaked at the crotch, and he--
Fucking hell.
"Oh, baby boy," Matt drawls, stroking Darren's jaw.
"Sorry, I just couldn't stop rubbing against the bed, you are so--hot--" He ducks his face into Matt's palm.
"Not a problem, buddy. Come here and give your big bro a hug, okay?"
Darren settles in his arms and they sit quietly for a few minutes, cooling off and calming down. Matt grabs a tissue off the bedside table and cleans himself up a little, then tucks himself back into his underwear and does up his pants.
He glances at Darren out of the corner of his eye. "We alright?" It's not his Cooper voice.
And Darren just shifts--relaxes his face, swivels his gaze, and his entire body slumps into a relaxed, laid back pose. He literally becomes Darren again, just like that.
"Fuck, yes," he breathes, laughing. "God, you were so awesome. I thought for sure I was going to lose you somewhere in there."
"It was fun," he replies, grinning, and smacks the top of Darren's curls with a kiss. "Even though you are now permanently in my 'kinky bastard' category."
Darren smirks. "That's okay, you're in my 'living, breathing Ken doll only with a really nice cock' category."
"Score," Matt sighs, ruffling Darren's hair. "You're welcome to crash here, if you want. I mean, I've got to leave early to catch my flight, but you'll probably be on the road before me anyway."
"Yeah, I will, thanks, it's--fucking late, man." Darren gets up. "I'm gross. Can I bum a pair of boxers?"
"Sure," Matt says. "Suitcase is over there."
Darren goes into the bathroom, cleans up presumably, and comes back out wearing just Matt's boxers.
Matt stares. "Cheater," he grumbles.
Darren's eyes pass over him. He'd taken the liberty of undressing while Darren had been in the bathroom. Boxers optional, and he hadn't taken that option.
"You serious? You're like, sculpted man candy, asshole," he growls, throwing a dirty pair of boxers at Matt's head. "Giving me a complex. Shove over. Jesus, I might hurt myself on all that, do you come with a warning label?" His hand traces down Matt's body.
Matt makes room, unable to resist sliding one hand over Darren's wide, tanned back. "Shut up, you're hot and you know it. Little shit." He smiles.
"Yeah yeah," Darren huffs, flopping.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, though. Comfy?"
"I could sleep on a hardwood floor in the middle of a warzone, seriously, don't worry about me," Darren answers, eyes already sliding shut.
"I've scheduled round two for one a.m.," Matt announces, feeling himself just as close to oblivion as Darren. "Warning given." He gropes for the warmth of Darren's compact body and cuddles up to it.
"Nope," Darren answers, yawning, slinging a leg over Matt's hips. "I'm a biter. Warning given."
"We'll see about that, Squirt."
The last thing he sees before closing his eyes is Darren's face, twisted into a huge shit-eating grin.