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[personal profile] denofiniquity
Title: In Alcohol Veritas
Fandom: Glee RPF
Pairing: Chris Colfer + Darren Criss friendship, minor Chris Colfer/Zac Efron
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,287
Disclaimer: Chris, Darren, Zac, and every other real person in this fic owns him or herself. I just worship them. And I'm certainly not saying this happened or ever would in real life. I make no money off of this and write it simply for my own sick pleasure.
Summary: While out at a party together, Chris and Darren spot a boss Zefron poster. Only it's not so much a poster and Darren's inner fanboy comes out to play.
Notes: I started this before the Golden Globes and then there all three of them were in one room and my brain kind of short circuited because I made something happen using only my words.

It starts, like most things, innocently enough. It's not a wild or outrageous party, no one is passing out drugs like Tic Tacs, and the naughtiest drink on the menu is a martini with three olives. It's fairly tame by Hollywood standards, which is why Chris's publicist doesn't mind him being there. He doesn't know if Darren's publicist is quite as strict about what parties he can and cannot go to, though he doubts Darren would care even if he or she were. At any rate, this one is fairly tame and Chris has only had one beer all night, so all things considered, the night definitely begins innocently.

Darren, however, has a small pile of beer bottles lined up around him by the bar, a tiny fort of alcohol. He doesn't seem drunk, but then, Darren went to college, UMich of all places, so by Chris's reckoning, Darren's got a higher tolerance than the average human and certainly higher than Chris himself.

It's not until about half an hour after Darren's fourth beer that Chris realizes he's drunker than he's letting on. Chris kind of misses the college experience he never had, watching Darren's eyes go slightly out of focus, even though his voice stays even. Chris could've learned to do that, too, if he'd turned down his idol when Ryan Murphy wrote Kurt for him.

There were a lot of things he missed out on by not going to college, apparently, but Chris doesn't want to dwell on them just now. Not when Darren is rambling on and on about hobbits and how he and Chris should go join a colony of them because they're both short enough to fit right in. Chris is just about to jump in with a comment about how they both lack the hairy feet when Darren suddenly throws his arm across Chris's chest and hisses, "That is a boss Zefron poster."

Chris turns, following Darren's eye line, and laughs.

"I don't think that's a poster," he says. "I think that's actually Zac Efron."

"He is so awesome," Darren breathes out, and Chris would think it was all just a big act, some silly joke on the fact that Chris quotes Darren's musical all the time, except Darren is obviously drunk and in alcohol veritas.

"Really?" Chris asks, doubtful. "I thought that was all just a joke."

"What, you don't think he's damn awesome?"

The scandalized look on Darren's face is pretty much the end of any lingering doubt Chris might've had that Darren wasn't completely, one hundred percent sincere.

"Well…" Chris trails off, trying to find a way to be nice about the fact that he hates Zac Efron and everything he stands for.

"You should have sex with him," Darren sighs wistfully.


"I can't," Darren points out in a far too pragmatic voice. "So you have to do it for me. That way, I can be his new friend."

"Darren," Chris says gently, "I think you're officially drunk."

"No," Darren insists. "If you fuck him, then you can introduce him to me, and then I can be his new bestie."

"I am not fucking Zac Efron just so you can be his friend, Darren. I can do so much better."

"There is no one better than Zac Efron," Darren huffs. "Come on, he's Zefron."

"I'm aware, Darren. His movies are stupid."

"They are not!" Darren whines. He pushes at Chris's shoulder until he's satisfied he has expressed his drunken anger. "They are like concentrated doses of bottled sunshine. Now go fuck him senseless."


"Fine, you don't like his movies," Darren concedes, though he looks like it pains him. "Look, you don't have to like his movies, but like, I'm straight, and even I can see how hot he is. If that mouth were on a girl? Don't even get me started. You are not prepared to handle that."

"Um. That's…an over-share."

"A blowjob is a blowjob and he would give a really good blowjob. Regardless of the movies that mouth appears in."

Chris lets his eyes rest on Zac's mouth for a moment, taking him in for the first time, objectively.

"All right," he says after a moment. "He has a hot mouth. But—"

"But nothing," Darren cuts in. He clings to Chris's lapels, shaking him just enough to make sure Chris is listening to his point. "He'd look really good with your come on his face. And then I could be friends with him. This is all I'm saying."

"Darren," Chris says, careful to keep his voice light and soothing so as not to freak out the crazy alcohol spirit that Darren is clearly channeling. "I want you to take a moment to think about what you're doing. You're trying to pimp me out to Zac Efron just so you can be his friend. Just go talk to him, for God's sake."

"No, this way, we both win. Don't you want sex?"

"I—well, I mean, sure, but—but I'm not going to lose my virginity to Zac Efron just so you can be his new friend. That's…weird. And strangely voyeurism-y, even if you're not there when it—er, happens."

Darren blinks up at him with wide, drunken eyes. "You're a virgin?"

"More or less," Chris confirms. "And I am not losing my virginity to Zac Efron just so you can be friends with him."

"He's hot enough," Darren says idly. "I bet he'd show you a good time."

"That's—that's not really the issue. And—and hey, we don't even know that he's gay."

"Please," Darren says, waving a hand expansively through the air. "Look at him. He's obviously gay."

"That's not fair. You like show tunes and wear pink sunglasses everywhere."

"I'm an anomaly," Darren answers, or at least that's what Chris thinks he says, because 'anomaly' comes out sounding more like 'ano—anonemone—o'malley.' And since Chris is fairly sure Darren's not randomly discussing his on-screen dad, it must be the anomaly thing.

"You are seriously going to regret trying to pimp me out to Zac Efron in the morning."

"I'd pimp out your mother to be friends with Zac Efron," Darren says, serious and earnest. "My only regret is if you don't do it. Come on, Chris. He's pretty. He's obviously gay. He's newly single. And he can show you a damn good time. I bet he takes it like a champ. He seems really nice, too. In interviews, he always comes off as a charismatic humanitarian. I like his hair, too."

"Maybe you should go fuck him."

"No, you have to. I can't. Besides, think what an awesome first time story it'll be. Zac Efron. Do you know who my first time was? Sandy Bracken. Do you know who Sandy Bracken is?"

"Um, no?"

"She's a lovely girl," Darren insists defensively, "but she's not nearly as pretty as Zac Efron. No one is."


But before he can come up with a logical response to that—or any response, really, since logic is clearly of no use in this conversation—Darren's eyes light up at something over his shoulder and he grabs Chris's biceps, spins him around, and pushes Chris straight into Zac Efron's chest.

"Oh, sorry!" Zac says, because the last few dregs of his drink have splashed all over Chris's shirt. He scrabbles at Chris's chest uselessly, hands roaming and trying to dry up the mess to no avail.

After a moment, Zac drops his hands, flustered, and lets out a soft groan. "Ugh, sorry. I didn't mean—this is ruined. I'll buy you a new one, if you want." His eyes flick up from Chris's shirt to his face, and then he smiles widely. "Hey, I know you."

Chris stares at him, and damn it if he finds himself unable to stop glancing down at Zac's hands. Hands that were just groping him all over his wet chest.

"This is the part where you introduce yourself," Darren whispers, except it's more like a stage whisper that anyone on the other side of the room could hear, Zac Efron included. Then his eyes flick up to Zac's and he grins before adding, "Hi, Zac. I love you."

It is a testament to how strange Zac Efron's life must be that he doesn't bat an eye at Darren's drunken rambling and declarations of mancrush love.

"Back at you," he says, and then turns his attention back to Chris. "You don't need to introduce yourself, for the record. I'm a fan."

"Oh," Chris says finally, startled into actually speaking. "Thanks."

He considers adding a reciprocation, a, "I'm a fan of yours, too," but he did that once—told Josh Groban he loved his music, and Groban had sized him up, laughed, and said, "No, you don't. Come on, I'll buy you a latte and you can tell me what kind of music you actually do like," and ever since, Chris has learned not to lie to celebrities about things like that. It's why he was so insistent that Darren believe him when he said he was a fan of Darren's musical.

"I don't mean to sound like a diva, but I'm going to assume you know who I am," Zac says after a moment. "Your friend certainly seems to."

"Can I touch your hand?" Darren asks reverently, and Chris's respect for Zac goes up about a thousand points when Zac calmly holds his hand out and waits patiently until Darren has had his fill of stroking it.

"Um. Yes. I know. Sorry about him. He's—er. Drunk. And strange. He writes musicals and he grew up in San Francisco and yet he somehow still likes girls. I'm pretty sure that if you said you'd have sex with him, he'd give it the old college try, though. Puns about college experimentation not intended."

"Not college," Darren mutters. "High school. Everyone expected…" He shrugs. "I would try, for you. I don't think I could manage it, but I really wish I could."

"That's flattering," Zac answers. "No offense, though, but I wouldn't want you to. You're not really my type."

And while Chris may not have dated much, he definitely knows when someone is flirting with him. Except Zac's not so much flirting as he is undressing Chris with his eyes. Which. Well. That's not in the least bit interesting. At all. Not even a little bit.

Wordlessly, Darren pushes Chris a few inches closer to Zac.

"Sorry," Chris says, because he's suddenly way too close to Zac's face, totally crowding his personal space. "He's—he's really insistent. I don't—I don't know what got into him. Give him a few drinks and suddenly he thinks he's my pimp."

"How much?"


"How much do I owe him, then?"

"Your phone number and a lunch date," Darren answers for him. "The phone number's for Chris. The lunch date's for me. You can have a lunch date with him, too, but I want one for me."

"Will you be drunk during it?" Zac asks. "I'm going to say yes either way, but I may try to negotiate down to meeting for coffee if you're going to be petting my hair or something the whole time."

"I'll be sober," Darren promises. "But coffee only gets you a blowjob when Chris calls you. A lunch date gets you anything you'd like."

"Hey!" Chris interjects, for all the obvious reasons. "I just met the guy." To Zac, he repeats, "I just met you. What makes either of you think that I'll—" He stops, because saying it out loud makes it all too real. "I don't do that on a first date, maybe not at all unless you earn it."

"I'll show you a nice time," Zac promises.

"I told you he'd show you a nice time," Darren says smugly. "Phone number, please." He waggles his eyebrows—a feat made all the more impressive by just how damn much of said eyebrows there are on Darren's face—and winks ludicrously at them.

So Zac takes Darren's phone, types the number in, and waits patiently while Darren dials it, just to be sure that Zac's cell actually does ring and they haven't been fake numbered.

"Okay," he says, satisfied. "Now pencil me in for one o'clock on Tuesday and I'll consider myself paid in full."

Zac obediently adds the lunch date into the calendar on his phone, then turns his attention back to Chris.

"I don't usually beg like this, but…please call me. Please. Don't let this be one of those things where I give you my number and you say you'll call, but you never do."

Chris is a little taken aback by how earnest Zac is, but considering that he's currently sharing breathing space with Darren, earnest is really a relative term at this point.

"I won't," he promises. "I'll call. I just—I should probably try to get Darren home before he embarrasses himself. Further."

Zac nods, and touches his hand briefly. "I'll talk to you later, then."

Chris smiles at him awkwardly, and then loops his arm through Darren's and starts tugging him towards the exit. He doesn't even flinch when Darren grins at him and says, "I'm pretty sure he'll be my new best friend if you actually have sex with him, you know. In gratitude."

"We'll see," Chris answers, and for the first time, he's glad his character transferred to another school and consequently freed up a lot of his time. If that hadn't happened, he wouldn't have enough time to take Zac out properly. And whatever Darren might have drunkenly implied to Zac, Chris isn't losing his virginity to Zac unless Zac deserves it.

Because Chris is worth it.
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