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 Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 7:58 pm
Chris's eyes lifted to the ceiling as he shook his head in exasperated disbelief. "Well, yeah... there's that, but I really do like the cooking. I'd just eat out every day if you weren't here." Joking, of course. Since the conversation had turned light. Actually, he really would eat out every day if he didn't have someone to cook for him. He was just too horrible to make anything for himself. Or maybe he just didn't try hard enough or have the patience to do it.
Whatever the reason, Chris didn't stay on the topic, sputtering lightly instead. "Hey, I do not whine!" he whined, making a face at Paris once he pulled away from the kiss. He released Paris shortly after, taking a step back so he could retrieve the pants he'd discarded in the bathroom, unbuttoning the jeans to change back now that he'd shown them off.
"I don't think I'd get sick of you that easily... You might get sick of me, first. I'm kind of set in my ways," he pointed out, half-serious as he pulled the khakis back on, not bothering to hide behind the bathroom door this time. There really wasn't any point, anyway. "Your dad needs you, though... If you need to leave then you should, but you've got a key to the apartment, and the window is unlocked, so..."
Uh... maybe he should actually be more careful about leaving the window unlocked, but he wanted others to be able to get in easily if they needed him, or just needed a place to hide or hang out. And only a few knew where he lived, and only a couple of those knew his window was available as an entrance. It wasn't as though anyone from the ground could get up, at least...
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 8:35 pm
At first, Paris made a face at Chris’s statement about being set in his ways. The fact that the very same statement had been applied to his father not too long ago had him considering the similarities again—limited as they may have been. Suddenly he had the image in his head of Chris nearing fifty, his baseball muscle practically non-existent and replaced with a rather prominent beer cut, sitting on the couch with the remote control in one hand and a can of beer in the other, with an empty box of pizza on the coffee table in front of him.
He thought there was something very wrong with that picture, especially when he caught himself thinking that Chris in his dad’s place made it sort of endearing, so long as the aforementioned gut had been acquired through his cooking.
Regardless, Paris was quick to shake the image from his mind and replace it with the sight of Chris changing pants in front of him. That was a much better look for him, Paris decided. The fit, athletic look—broad shoulders, great arms, fantastic abs, terrific a**…
He had to shake his head again when he realized he was staring, which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing under different circumstances, but Chris had just said something that immediately attracted Paris’s attention.
“You leave your window unlocked?!” he asked, aghast. “You mean the one up here?! The one that looks over you bed?!”
He swung an arm out to point to the window in question, the one that led out onto the fire escape and which could be accessed if one were to hop down from the roof. It was on the far wall, not directly over or next to the bed, but anyone standing outside it would definitely have most of the loft in their line of sight.
“What makes you think that’s a good idea in this city?! Honestly, Christopher, you’re just asking for someone to find out where you live and cut your throat in your sleep,” he said, marching over to the window to flip the lock in place, grumbling the entire way.
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 8:47 pm
Okay, so that was probably something he should have kept to himself. It wasn't as though it was really hurting anyone! Well, it could potentially place himself and whoever was in his apartment in danger, but it was also just another easy access for when he was too lazy to go through the front entrance.
"It's fine, Paris!" he groaned, pulling his pants into place, but not in enough time to stop his boyfriend from locking the window, himself. "Leave it unlocked. It's not like anyone knows where I live. Just Pasiphae and Zia. They're the only ones who've been through that way! I mean, you have, too... but that doesn't mean it's a traffic jam."
Chris took a few steps towards the window as if intending to unlock it once more. "What if you needed to get in, but it was locked??" Sure, he could get a key or something ridiculous like that made for the window, but he didn't think it was at all necessary. "No one's going to cut my throat in my sleep. Why would they? I don't power down in front of Negas or those mirror senshi," he said, rolling his eyes once more and shaking his head.
He stopped before he could reach the window though, not wanting to get Paris frustrated with him more than he probably was. He did stand with his arms crossed, waiting to see what Paris was going to do, if he trusted him to take care of himself and do what he wanted with his window, or if he was going to refuse to let him go near it.
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Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 9:29 pm
Paris stood in front of the window, trying to block all access to it and refusing to unlock it.
“If I wanted to get in and it was locked, I’d just go down the fire escape and come back up in the elevator,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked unimpressed with Chris’s argument. “Like you just said, I have a key. I don’t need to break into your apartment like a creeper, and I’d hope other people wouldn’t either. That’s just… so wrong. What if someone else caught them doing it and called the cops on them?”
He was, at least, mildly reassured that only two people knew to use it, though the fact that those two people were girls—and pretty ones—didn’t seem entirely harmless either. Pasiphae he was pretty sure he didn’t have to worry about, given that she seemed a bit shy and reserved and not the sort of person to hit on just any cute guy she came across. Zia on the other hand…
He didn’t know her. As long as he and Chris had been dating, he’d yet to meet her, but he’d seen her at camp. He knew she was pretty. He knew she and Chris were best friends, and even though he was pretty sure Peter had been bullshitting around about Chris making out with her… he couldn’t help but think that the two made an attractive couple.
“Why the hell would Zia need to come in through your window?” Paris wondered, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.
Suddenly, Paris’s head was filled with images of a different sort, and he wasn’t sure he liked them any better than the ones of Chris being his father’s twin.
“Have you ever had sex with her?” he suddenly asked.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 5:20 pm
Chris hesitated when the topic of Zia lingered, realizing that he probably shouldn't have mentioned her at all. Paris didn't know that she shared her body with the soul of a Guardian cat from a parallel universe, and he wasn't about to start telling secrets that weren't his own to tell.
"She needed to get away from her family once... You know how difficult it is to get into the building without a card," he mumbled under his breath, not wanting to give Paris a reason to doubt him, but feeling awkward for lying when he knew that had been one of their agreements of what they wouldn't do.
He stared at his boyfriend when the question was asked, and while he definitely felt awkward and a little cornered, he felt his shoulders relax a bit. Paris wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't curious, obviously... And he wouldn't have said anything if he hadn't thought about it. Did he think that he'd slept with her?
"No," he said after a few moments, although he wasn't really sure how to take Paris's expression and tone. Was he jealous, or just curious? "No, I've never had sex with her. She's like my older sister." He was attracted to her, of course... But having a relationship like that would totally ruin their dynamic. "Her mother offered a few times, though," he added as an afterthought, not really sure if he should be amused or concerned about those incidents. At that point in time, Michael had already left home to serve in the military, so naturally he was the next choice. Or something.
"I've only slept with a few others," he admitted, figuring that Paris would pose the question at some point, anyway.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 5:53 pm
Jealous? No, not really. Maybe if he’d had a reason to be, but as things were he didn’t feel terribly threatened by her.
Only a little bit. And only because she was so pretty.
‘Curious’ was definitely the better word. He and Chris had always spent more time together, alone, than with any of their respective friends around, and Chris knew more about his friends—the few that there were—than Paris knew about Chris’s. He’d never had much of a problem with that. Chris had, after all, introduced him to his family, so he knew it wasn’t a case of Chris being ashamed or uncomfortable introducing him to people. He was sure there either hadn’t been the time or the right opportunity.
“Oh,” Paris said. A bit of tension eased from his shoulders. “Okay… well…”
He made a face, not sure he wanted to imagine Chris with some woman old enough to be his mother. Instead, he chose to focus on much less disturbing things.
“It’s kind of overrated anyway,” he decided. “Sleeping with a ton of other people. Or at least I think it is. Which is kind of funny considering I used to think relationships were overrated. I guess it depends on the person. But I’ve slept with some of the guys on my street, and then some guys from school… uh… both schools… as in different people from each one… and then, um… some college guys… from, like, parties. I can’t really remember how many since it’s not like I kept count.”
Paris stood in front of the window for a few moments longer, and then decided the conversation had suddenly taken an odd turn.
“And how did we even start talking about this? It’s not like it even matters. Keep your window locked,” he told him, marching away from it. He moved over to the pair of jeans Chris had just left on the floor after changing out of them, making sure they were right-side-out before returning them to the closet.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 6:05 pm
It was a rather odd turn to the conversation, but things could have been worse. At least they weren't fighting about it, and Paris wasn't turning into some jealous b***h about Zia. Hell, Chris felt like a horrible friend for not keeping up with what she was doing, but sometimes she just needed her space...
He watched as Paris moved away from the window, not too surprised about the quantity of guys he'd been with before him. While Chris was almost self conscious enough to start worrying about whether or not he was being compared to these other guys, he knew that Paris must see something worthwhile in him to go through the stress and trouble he put up with when it came to him — cleaning up after him and putting up with random tantrums.
As Paris made his way back to the bed after putting the jeans away, Chris reached out to take hold of his hand, smiling lightly down at him once he was sure he had his attention.
"How about a date tonight? Dinner somewhere; you pick," he offered with a little shrug. "We'll use the door, I promise." He made a casual glance over to the window before back at his boyfriend, knowing he only fussed because he cared. That, and Chris realized that he could sometimes be rather reckless when it came to his own wellbeing. But at least they got along well enough for him to keep his temper down... even nonexistent. It was nice.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 6:21 pm
Paris glanced up at him with another raised eyebrow, allowing Chris to take his hand. He smiled after a moment and leaned up for another kiss while giving Chris’s hand a squeeze.
“We can go somewhere new,” he suggested, quite liking the idea. It had been a while since they’d gone out for a nice sit-down dinner. Most of their time together in the last couple of weeks since their burgeoning relationship had begun anew had been spent curled up on Chris’s couch—or in bed—with Paris making food or ordering take-out.
Eventually, Paris pulled away and turned for the bed. He paused to stare down at the pile of khakis that still sat there, waiting to be ironed. He stared between them and his boyfriend, switching his gaze from one to the other before coming to a decision. He’d certainly iron them, and put them away, and wash them and iron them and put them away again the next time Chris needed his laundry done. While he thought his boyfriend could benefit from learning to be a little more self-sufficient around his own apartment, the fact that his place wasn’t a total sty made the chores bearable.
He moved to grab them all, tossing them back into the laundry basket. Then he smiled at Chris sweetly and said, “But you’re wearing the jeans.”
Not waiting for a response, Paris grabbed the laundry basket and carried it back downstairs, heading for the laundry room and the ironing board within.
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