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“Mistletoe is so ugly.” Chris wrinkles his nose, balancing on a chair as he pins up the offending item in the entryway to the kitchen.
“That’s why they put ribbons on it,” Darren replies happily, hanging an identical sprig above the fridge. “Did you get the entryway?”
“Yep. You did the living room?”
“Even over the couch.”
“I know, I saw you jumping on it.” Either because he couldn’t reach the ceiling, or because he’s Darren, Chris isn’t sure. He checks his handiwork and then climbs down from his chair, dusting off his hands. “Ugh, I smell like it.”
Darren barks out a laugh.
“We all have to make sacrifices in the name of love, Christopher.” Darren jumps down and admires his own hanging mistletoe. “Smelly, smelly sacrifices.”
“So the downstairs is done, right?”
“Uh… Yeah.” Darren wanders into the living room without explanation, and Chris rolls his eyes before following. He’s two steps out of the kitchen when something smacks into his chest.
He isn’t even going to ask where Darren found mistletoe in bulk.
“We probably could have tied bows on spinach and neither of them would have noticed,” Chris mumbles, frowning as he pulls the plastic bag open.
“Fuck that. First, I am way too lazy, and second… You really think Kurt wouldn’t know the difference?”
No. No, Chris doesn’t think that at all. Kurt is scarily good at recognizing things like that (and, so is Chris; the difference is that Chris doesn’t care).
“Come on.” Darren grabs Chris by the wrist and leads him to the stairs. “There should be no place they can both stand without having each others’ tongues down each others’ throats.”
“Um, ew.” Chris pulls out a sprig and throws it at Darren’s face, but he’s paying enough attention that he catches it. Damn. “I love Kurt, and I want him and Blaine to stop being stupid, but there’s watching them share an adorable kiss and then there’s porn, Darren.”
“…dude, you watch really tame porn.”
“…I’m going to hang up mistletoe now.”
“Aw, Chris.”
“Nope.”
“Come on! We’re friends! Friends talk about porn!” Darren follows after Chris. “If it’s because you don’t think I’m into the whole guy-on-guy thing—”
“Please stop talking.”
“—that’s totally not true. No, this one time—”
“No, nope, absolutely not.” Chris turns and grabs Darren’s shoulders, flipping him around and pushing him back down the hall. “We have a plan to carry out, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Darren looks contemplative, and then nods. But suddenly he’s grinning at Chris over his shoulder. “You’re right. We can talk about porn later.”
Chris falters, hands hanging in the air where Darren used to be. Because now, now Darren is walking down the hall and whistling “Sleigh Ride” like that conversation didn’t just happen. Chris should be used to it.
He isn’t.
Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Chris switches back to the task at hand. It’s easier to think about Kurt and Blaine than it is to think about Darren.
*
“Should we… Hide?” Chris asks, and then winces. This is a ploy to get their brothers to kiss, not a surprise party. The mistletoe is all hung, and both Chris and Darren are satisfied that neither Kurt nor Blaine can stand near each other without having to kiss. With luck, they’ll have to kiss multiple times, even.
“Dude! Great idea!” Darren jerks Chris down the stairs, stopping at the bottom and whipping his head around like an overexcited puppy. “We need some place with a good vantage point, but where they can’t see us.”
“Hence hiding place,” Chris mumbles. “Isn’t that… Creepy? Spying on them?”
Darren raises an eyebrow at him.
“And setting up an elaborate plan so we can get our brothers to make out with each other isn’t creepy?”
“…touché.” Seriously, when did Chris become so preoccupied with this? Sure, he wants Kurt to be happy, but isn’t this all a little… Extreme? One minute it had been sharing grins with Darren when Kurt or Blaine’s backs were turned, and the next it had turned into… This. Schemes that forced Kurt and Blaine into spending time together, going out on quasi-dates, and having every chance to get to know one another.
Only… That often resulted in Chris spending time with Darren, getting to know Darren. Darren, who has somehow become Chris’s best friend and confidant and so much that it’s become a little scary.
Chris had never really expected their master plan to backfire onto him.
“Oh!” Darren tugs at Chris again, and he squawks in surprise. “Hope you don’t mind going back into the closet for a little bit, man.”
Chris’s face floods with embarrassment.
“Wha—”
And then Darren promptly pulls him into the hall closet.
“Darren, there is no—”
“Shhhh!”
“They aren’t even here yet!” Chris hisses. He swings his arms around and tries to get his bearings, because it’s fucking dark in the hall closet and how did Darren think this was a good idea? “I think you’re stepping on me.”
“I think the vacuum is trying to get to second base with me.”
“Darren.”
“It reminds me of this party I went to once—”
“Ow! Would you watch your elbows? I think you just kidney shotted me.”
“Shit, sorry, I thought you were the vacuum.”
“Yes, because that makes sense,” Chris mutters darkly, finally pushing himself into a corner. “So you just want to sit in here until they get home?”
“That’s the plan!”
Chris can’t see him, but he’s pretty positive that Darren is smiling.
It’s been silent for approximately thirty seconds when Darren whispers, “where are you?”
“The closet isn’t that big. I’m right here.”
“Did you like climb onto a shelf or something? I can’t…”
Chris nearly screams as something collides with his ankle, but then he feels Darren’s fingers curl around it and relaxes.
“Found you,” Darren sing-songs, jiggling Chris’s leg.
“And I tried so hard to hide in these four square feet we have,” Chris replies, dryly.
“No need to patronize, Christopher.”
“Please stop wiggling my leg.”
“Then sit down!”
“Where?” It’s not as if there’s a lot of room, and Chris isn’t even sure how Darren managed to find room to sit with the vacuum taking up most of the available floor space. “Not all of us are small and compact like you.”
“Wow. A short joke. You’re so clever.”
“I’m at the perfect level to knee you in the face, don’t tempt me.”
“Yeah right, you have shit aim and it’s dark. I’d like to see you—ow, fuck, that was myshoulder.”
“Then shut up, or next time I won’t miss,” Chris threatens, and Darren mumbles something to himself before falling silent again. Chris doesn’t really consider himself incredibly claustrophobic, but it’s not like he spends a great deal of time in small confined spaces. Anyone would start feeling uncomfortable.
Except maybe Darren, who is banging his hands against his knees and humming out a song that Chris doesn’t recognize.
“I can’t do this, let me out,” Chris mutters, starting to shuffle.
“No! You’ll blow our cover!”
“What cover, they aren’t even—Darren!” Chris throws his arms out, trying to stop himself from falling, but he ends up elbowing the door and hitting his knee against something (the vacuum?), before landing straight on Darren. “You son of a—”
“Hey now, don’t bring my parents into this.” Darren’s voice is incredibly close in his ear, but Chris is too distracted by the throbbing in his elbow to really pay attention to it.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“I totally can,” Darren hums happily, wiggling beneath him. “Look at us, bright and rosy—”
“What?”
“And comfy cozy are we.”
“Dork.”
“You love me.”
Chris doesn’t respond, just shoves at what he’s pretty sure is Darren’s shoulder. But it’s immediately apparent that it’s his face when Darren licks the palm of his hand.
“Ugh, you are so—ugh.” He wipes it on Darren’s shirt, feeling a small sense of victory at touching Darren’s shirt and not something else.
“Wait,” Darren says suddenly, even as Chris is frowning in the darkness at his hand (maybe).
“No, I’m not done—mmph.” Darren’s hand lands over his mouth, and Chris almost repays the favor of licking him, when he hears the sound of the front door opening.Oh.
“Darren?” Blaine calls, and Darren starts to giggle. Chris nudges him forcefully, purposefully, and he quiets down. “Chris?”
“Maybe they went out?” Kurt’s voice asks, and Chris narrows his eyes at the implication laced in his brother’s words. “They’ll be back, though. Darren might not be familiar with my cooking, but it’s not something Chris would ever knowingly miss out on.” Chris nods against Darren’s hand—Kurt somehow ended up with practically all of the cooking talent in their family.
“Not to mention Darren’s the one making us cook dinner.”
“Even though they absolutely didn’t win,” Kurt sniffs, and then they both laugh.
“Oh,” Blaine says abruptly.
“What?”
“Um…”
“Oh.”
“I don’t… Remember that being there before.”
“Oh god, here it comes,” Darren whispers in excitement, and then there’s suddenly light as he quietly opens the closet door. Chris has a moment of indecision, where maybe he wants to give his brother the privacy of the moment, but Darren is already looking and… Well, there goes the privacy, right? Chris shifts around, and when he catches a glimpse out of the tiny crack in the door, he can see them—
“Oh my god,” Chris whispers, and Darren is practically vibrating with excitement.
“I know,” he whispers back, because their brothers are kissing. Chris wants to throw his hands in the air and yell, “FINALLY!”
But it’s not long, and they practically jump apart, grocery bags swinging on their arms. They don’t talk, until Blaine makes a vague gesture towards the kitchen and Kurt nods.
“Progress,” Darren says once they’re safely past the closet and in the kitchen. “Operation: Mistletoe is a success.”
“Since when is it called Operation: Mistletoe?” Chris hisses.
“Since just now, just go with it.”
“Fine, whatever, can we get out of the closet now?”
“Alright, but we have to go one at a time.”
“…why?”
“Because it’s suspicious of us to be climbing out of the closet together.”
“…it’s suspicious to climb out of a closet, period,” Chris deadpans, ignoring the strange jolt in his chest. “Just. I’ll go first. Meet me by the front door.”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t think we’re here.” Chris rolls his eyes, and then slowly pushes the door open. If he tries to stand up in that tiny little space, he’s going to fall over and there’s no way that can happen quietly. He crawls out of the closet, taking a deep breath, and then standing. He can hear murmurs from the kitchen, but moves as quietly as he can towards the front door. Darren is right behind him, slipping the door back to it’s cracked-open position—Chris gives him points for thoroughness.
Chris starts jiggling the handle, and then opens the door.
“Fuck, it’s cold out there,” Darren says immediately, and Chris throws him a look, sighing.
“Yeah, snow is generally cold.” Chris closes the door loudly, and then stands longer around the door. Darren looks at him confused, and Chris mimes at his feet and then tugs at his shirt. “Shoes and jacket,” he mouths, and Darren’s eyes widen in understanding—he nods.
“Blaine? Kurt? You guys back?” Darren is grinning, and Chris hopes he can pull it together before they head into the kitchen.
“In the kitchen!” Kurt calls.
“I’m going to kill you, Darren!” Blaine calls after him, and Darren just looks more amused.
“Oh? And why is that?” He winks at Chris and then strides down the hallway, Chris following behind him.
“I appreciate you trying to decorate, but I think you went a little overboard,” Blaine says as they make their way to the entryway. “Although, I’m a little surprised you didn’t just blanket the ceiling with it.”
Darren snaps.
“Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?” Darren looks at Chris, still grinning like the cat that got the canary.
“I think you forgot something very important though.” The way Kurt sounds so pleased makes warning bells go off in Chris’s head, and he turns to look at him in alarm. The smile that Kurt is giving him is the sort that never bodes well.
“We did?” Darren sounds genuinely confused, and Chris has the sudden urge to bolt and hide.
“Mmhmm.” Kurt’s brandishing a knife, and starts chopping whatever he has spread on his cutting board (it’s green—that’s all Chris can really tell). “Look up,” he sings, and Chris blanches before Darren even follows the instruction. Because Chris knows what’s above them—he’d hung it himself.
“Oh.” Darren does seem surprised, and Chris wants to shrink down inside of himself.
“You—”
But then Darren is turning towards him, hands slipping up to frame his face, and Chris doesn’t move. They’re looking right into each other’s eyes, but Darren doesn’t look concerned with the fact that he’s about to kiss a boy, about to kiss Chris, and then it’s just… Happening. Chris leans into it on instinct—an instinct he wasn’t aware that he had, but apparently he does. With Darren’s hands there, with their lips pressed together, god, Chris can smell Darren this close, it feels like Darren is all around him.
And just like it starts, it ends, Chris’s cheeks feeling cool when Darren’s hands slip away even though he’s sure all of his blood is in his face. Darren looks as surprised as Chris feels, and he smiles a little hesitantly before pulling back.
“So?” He spins towards the kitchen, and Chris continues to stand there, hand folding into a fist over his chest. “What are you losers making us?”
Blaine bites something back, but Chris doesn’t hear it. He’s startled when a hand touches his shoulder, and looks over to see Kurt standing there, looking at him with understanding eyes.
“Come on, I’m making lasagna. I know how much you like lying the noodles down.” Kurt looks apologetic, reaching to grab Chris’s hand, and he closes his eyes and squeezes it thankfully. Kurt knows Chris, that he can’t talk about these things, not easily—they’re a lot alike in that way. The difference is that eventually Kurt will cave, when he feels safe enough, but they both know that Chris won’t talk about it anytime soon.
“Thanks,” he whispers, and Kurt gives a tug on his hand.
“Woah, wait, no! Chris! They’re supposed to be cooking for us! If you help, that totally defeats the—”
“Shut up, Darren.”