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"Heading to the beach sounds fine with me," Chris agreed with Ladon, watching the exchange between him and Billy with mild curiosity before deciding that it really wan't his place to butt into. Ladon obviously knew Billy better than he or Paris did, just as he was sure he knew Paris better than Billy. Ladon was Paris's best friend though, so... he wondered how much Ladon knew about Paris that he didn't...

If he thought about it for too long, there was a pang of jealousy that rose up inside him, but with a mumbled 'thank you' from Paris, he was easily drawn away from ridiculous thoughts. He didn't have much time to say anything else, anyway... seeing as Paris grabbed onto his arm to drag him along.

He stumbled slightly in surprise, but quickly regained his balance, and with one wary look over his shoulder at his two other guests, he allowed Paris to lead him away.

"Calm down, baby," he said softly, trying not to laugh at the grumblings and mutterings under Paris's breath. It was kind of cute to see him all worked up, but Chris knew he'd never want to be at the receiving end of Paris's rage. If he could get so passionate about the things he likes, he couldn't imagine how it would be when it came to the things he didn't like.

Well, maybe he'd find out if Paris really couldn't get over whatever it was Billy was doing to get him riled up.

"We're supposed to be having fun," he pointed out, ushering Paris into his room and shutting the door for some privacy as they changed. Of course, he was easily reminded how he'd upset Paris by kicking him out of his apartment... Okay, so it might be a bit much to assume they'd have fun the whole time... but it was worth a shot...

Chris shifted awkwardly on one foot to the next as he quickly undressed and pulled on swim trunks. "I can help with your back if you want..." he figured he'd offer, not wanting Paris to burn. Meanwhile, Chris had his own strange tan lines to even out. Playing baseball gave him something of a farmers tan...

Billy sighed and dug trough the depths of his bag for the rather large bottle of Tylenol he had brought along.

"Just a bit of a headache. And y'know...this place kinda wasn't what I expected. It's disappointing really, but I guess I shouldn't expect anything normal - heaven forbid that. It just...irks me - all the money squandered on a place like this that probably only sees life for a few days out of the year, instead of something more...modest?" another sigh, "petty bullshit, I know."

He opened up his coke and took the Tylenol with it, despite knowing full well that wasn't recommended. He then like-wise began to strip, and had some amusement watching Ladon struggle with his pants. Finally he stepped over and gave a quick tug - effectively pantsing his boyfriend.

"Honestly, at this point, I dare them to say something to me about it. After all, that stuff is a bit tricky with the sunscreen too."

And then for Billy, there were just some scars that couldn't be hidden by any amount of makeup. At this thought, he rubbed at the deep, long, scar across his chest. Then he grabbed his own swim trunks and finished undressing and redressing.

"I'll help you though. You mind it more than me."

"It's none of their business, that's what I'll tell them. Of course, I'll try and put it a little nicer than that..." Billy said as he finished rifling through the clothes he'd just put into the dresser previously, grabbing a short sleeve button up shirt that he'd wear unbuttoned, as well. he just didn't quite feel like running around in just his trunks.

He then tended to the scars Ladon couldn't reach, "If he does notice," Billy began, on the subject of the make up and Paris, "hopefully he won't say anything. Not where I can hear it anyway. It wouldn't be a wise idea."

Even though Billy had promised good behavior, he wouldn't let anyone upset Ladon. Nor could he be held accountable for the provocation of others going too far. Still, he would try his best.

"Yeah, sunblock at least. I'm already caramel, I don't want to be a tomato."

Billy started spraying on the sunscreen, none too pleased with the smell.

"It's not me you have to worry about," Billy assured him, "At least, not until later. Bedtime, later."

The last was said with a devious grin while he was still putting things away, before Ladon came over to him.

"It's nothing -- I'd do anything for you. You know that," Billy let a hand run through Ladon's hair as he looked on him warmly.

Although the headache and his own cynicism threatened to sour his mood, Billy was at least trying. It might not have been the best effort in the eyes of some, but the point was that the effort was there. And that is what mattered.

"Now, let's go before they think we're doing more than changing clothes."

As soon as he entered Chris’s bedroom, Paris released Chris’s arm, set his can of soda on one of the bedside tables, and then flopped onto the bed with a loud and exaggerated “UUUGGGHHHHHH” that ended up being slightly muffled by the blanket since he’d gone down face-first. He was sorely tempted to start bashing his head against the wall, but as he really wasn’t trying to get himself killed—neither by his hand or any other—he satisfied himself with ramming his forehead against the mattress and getting a mouth full of comforter in the process.

“I am plenty calm,” he insisted, though his behavior might show otherwise.

He couldn’t help it. He’d initially suggested the trip as a means of having fun and enjoying himself with his best friend and boyfriend, but now that he and Chris were… whatever they were… all the little things he might have been able to overlook otherwise only bothered him all the more. This vacation was supposed to be distracting him from everything else going on in his life. Now that he was here, he was beginning to wish that he had something to distract him from the vacation.

Finally, Paris rolled over to open his suitcase and begin digging around for one of his bathing suits while Chris went about changing, turning his back on his sort-of-but-not boyfriend in case Chris felt the need for any additional privacy—which Paris thought would be pretty stupid all things considered, but he was doing what he could to be understanding and give Chris his space.

“I won’t need much help with my back, I don’t think,” Paris said, pulling clothes out of his suitcase and moving to place them into one of the dresser drawers while in search of his swimsuit. “It’ll mostly be covered.”

The hardest thing to shop for when one dressed as Paris dressed was swimsuits. Or at least that was Paris’s opinion on the matter. Those shopping trips tended to end with a great deal of frustration, as boy swimsuits were boring and unflattering, and even though he was far from big and brawny and had a decidedly feminine build already, girl swimsuits still needed to be altered to fit exactly right. It was such a hassle finding a swimsuit in a color and design he actually liked that could be altered appropriately and actually looked good on his body and against his coloring.

He’d brought three different swimsuits with him, but the one he left out after quickly putting all of his clothes away was a bright, happy pink he was sure Ladon would find obnoxious. Paris sat on the end of the bed to stare at it for a little bit and try to actually feel like he really wanted to be doing this, before he flopped onto the mattress again to stare up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

“What the hell were you thinking, Paris?” he wondered, and then said to Chris, “I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all this.”

Paris stayed on the bed for a little longer, before rolling off again to begin taking off his clothes. He started with his jewelry first, removing his earrings and bracelet and ring to leave them out on the top of the dresser. The only thing he took extra care with was his necklace, which Chris had given him for his birthday and which Paris kept in its appropriate box when he wasn’t wearing it, both because it meant something to him and because he assumed it was expensive—or at least expensive by his standards, which probably weren’t the same as Chris’s standards, but he’d always been a bit too uncomfortable about the money to ask how much it had cost.

Once his necklace was safely stowed away in one of the drawers in which he’d put his clothes, Paris hastily threw his hair up on top of his head with a purple elastic he dug out of his purse and started on the removal of his clothing, occasionally sparing Chris a glance or two as he did so.

“Christopher, the beach isn’t really the place to start fussing about your clothes,” he told him, setting his belt aside to pull his loose shirt over his head. “Just wear the ones you have on. No one’s really going to care. And don’t bother with a shirt. You’re just going to end up taking it off anyway. It’s not like you’ve got anything to hide.”

He doubted the scar on Chris’s shoulder would be enough to warrant a question, and the one on Chris’s thigh wouldn’t even be visible beneath his swim trunks.

Paris was remarkably scar free. He often wondered if the lack of any notable damage served as proof of his unwillingness to throw himself headlong into life as a senshi and perhaps made him appear less dedicated as others might be, but it wasn’t as if he’d never been injured. He simply had nothing to show for the effort.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t have anything to hide himself. He was quick about changing, not for any sense of embarrassment he might feel—rarely did nudity bother him—but due mostly to a slowly growing and perhaps uncharacteristic sense of shame. He’d lost weight since April and he knew it. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of other people noticing and then having to talk about his problems and explain his reactions to them.

His swimsuit did a decent job of covering him, cute and feminine enough to suit his tastes but modest enough to be discreet. The squared neckline rested flush against his chest—no point in trying to fake a chest he didn’t have with the company he’d be around—tying into place behind his neck, while the ruching down the sides and the short skirt gave the suit something of a vintage look. The vivid pink color was the boldest thing about it, lending a brightness and a cheerfulness to his looks that he didn’t necessarily feel.

“You can help with the sunscreen now, if you want,” he said, once he’d dug a few bottles out of one of his bags. He handed one of them to Chris. “This one. The other stuff is for my face. I brought some tanning oil, too, so we can try to even out your farmer’s tan.”

Paris wasn’t concerned in the least. He wasn’t the one who’d grown uncomfortable with their relationship, so as long as Chris wanted to do something then he had no complaints against it. It was a new practice he was trying to adopt, letting Chris go at his own pace and taking what he could get in the meantime. He had no idea if that was the best way to handle things, but as he already had so much else going on it was the best he had to work with for now.

Besides, if he pushed too much how was he to know it wouldn’t just force Chris further away?

“Obviously I’ll be bringing the sunscreen out with me,” Paris said, taking the second bottle to squeeze some onto his hands and spread it onto his face. “I don’t exactly like the idea of looking like a lobster on stage.”

He had makeup to cover any stark imperfections, but it was such a hassle when he could just try to prevent himself from burning in the first place.

He stood patiently and waited for Chris to finish, making sure he got his arms, neck, and chest as well, before he took the bottle from his boyfriend and returned the favor. “I hope you don’t feel too put out about all this,” he risked saying. “I mean, with things being different now and then coming here with them. I know dealing with difficult people isn’t really a new thing, but there’s difficult people and then there’s Billy. The date didn’t go too badly, I guess, but I just… I don’t want you being caught in the middle or forced onto one side just because he and I don’t like each other, and I don’t want you to feel like there’s anything wrong with you or with… you know… everything,” he said, motioning around the room.

“Christopher,” Paris began, imperiously raising his eyebrows as he said, “you are privileged.”

He didn’t think that was something Chris necessarily forgot, but he also didn’t think it was something his boyfriend actually thought all that much about until he was faced with people who weren’t as fortunate. Paris didn’t let that carelessness bother him at all. It might have had he seen it in other people, but as he knew Chris and as he’d become very well acquainted with Chris’s family, Paris had come to decide that there were more important aspects of their lives to focus on.

He could easily understand why it might bother other people, however. It still made him uncomfortable from time to time, but as far as his boyfriend was concerned this was all Chris had ever really known, what he thought of as “normal.” Paris couldn’t fault him for the way he was raised. He could only fault him for how he chose to live his life, and since Chris worked hard and usually approached people with as much kindness and understanding as he possibly could, the judgments Paris had made had always been positive.

“The only difference is I say it nicer than Billy does,” Paris continued, “and I’m more appreciative, but you still can’t expect any of us to be used to all this. I mean, don’t let it make you feel awkward, because it’s not your fault any more than it’s ours. Just act normally and don’t let it bother you if there are any other comments about it. Besides, that was one thing he said weeks ago. I’m more annoyed by the fact that he can’t do more than mumble a weak thank you and smile like he doesn’t mean it when you carted his a** all the way out here and your parents are letting us use their house.”

Once he’d finished helping Chris with his own sunscreen, Paris took the bottles as well as the bottle of tanning oil and shoved it into a tote bag, grabbing a couple of beach towels and folding them in as well.

“Anyway, it’s not like I didn’t expect as much,” he said as he slipped a pair of flip-flops onto his feet in the place of the boots he’d been wearing before. “I guess I was just sort of hoping for a little more effort. I should obviously know better than that by now. But it’s okay. I will rise above and be the bigger man… uhh… metaphorically, of course… and I don’t want what I feel about it all to affect how you feel, because that would be sort of selfish of me, and contrary to popular belief I’m not that selfish…”

Or at least he was trying not to be.