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 Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2012 9:21 pm
Chris was reluctant to look at Paris, not wanting to see something he didn't know if he was ready to see. He didn't want to see how much Paris really did care about him, how much he didn't want to be away from him. It was too strong of a need for him to really understand... and that scared him. He knew he was pathetic for not knowing what he wanted with his life. He was just stringing Paris along with these meetings and close embrases and spending time together as though they'd never altered their relationship.
But Chris did pull back, releasing his hold so that he was no longer crushing Paris against him, immediately feeling guilty for realizing just how tightly he was holding him. "S-sorry," he stuttered, stalling from the conversation he wasn't sure he wanted to have. Instead, he gently rubbed at Paris's sides and back, as if that would alleviate whatever pain he might have caused him. Fussing over Paris was probably a lot better than fidgeting awkwardly with nothing to do.
"I..." he started, then stopped, not entirely sure what he wanted to say. His mouth moved silently for a few moments, before he finally got anything out, making sure to show Paris the respect he deserved by looking him in the eye as well. "I'm not sure what I want... with us... yet... God, I sound like a ******** idiot," he cursed, breaking eye contact in his moment of self-consciousness. He took what was supposed to be a steading breath and tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling, as if the answer was written up there for him.
This sucked. And Paris was too kind and sure of himself and what he wanted to force him to do anything. Because if he did push... who was to say it wouldn't have a negative effect...?
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2012 7:43 pm
“You’re not an idiot,” Paris reassured him.
He was trying to be understanding. It wasn’t always easy for him, not when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt how he felt about Chris, but he tried to remember the months when they’d first been dating, and all the conflicting emotions that had been sweeping through him before he told Chris the truth, before he’d been able to admit to himself that what he felt was love.
Sometimes he thought it had been more of a realization than an admission. He didn’t remember denying it outright, just failing to believe that it could be possible when all he’d known of love before had been the love that existed between his parents—and that hadn’t been much to work with. When it’d happened, he’d failed to recognize his feelings for what they were until it came to the point where it was staring him right in the face and he didn’t know how it could be anything else.
Paris frowned sadly, and removed his arms from around Chris’s body to lift his hands to Chris’s face to frame and between his palms and force Chris’s gaze back down as he said, “Tell me what I can do to help you. Tell me what I can do to make this easier.”
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2012 8:34 pm
He let out a humorless snort at Paris's reassurance, not believing him but appreciating the attempt. "You're kinda biased," he pointed out, allowing his boyfriend to take hold of his face so he'd look at him once more.
It was difficult to say 'no' to Paris. Maybe when they'd first met it was easier to shrug off each other's presence, to move on with whatever they were doing, to pretend as though it was just another day. Being with Paris, though... it was different. He made every moment feel like it was important. Like the time shared between them was worthwhile and actually meant something. Chris wasn't used to that. He didn't know what to expect from it, and he hated the idea of letting Paris down after everything he'd done.
Chris didn't know how to respond to him. He didn't know what more Paris could do to help him, to make it easier for him. He thought that everything Paris was doing was making things as harmless as possible... for him. Paris, on the other hand, Chris knew he was hurting... and he hated that. He hated being the jerk who didn't know what he wanted or if he was just going to break Paris's heart in the end.
He could see it in his eyes... Chris knew Paris would do anything for him. And it scared him. He shouldn't be that important to someone. Paris shouldn't have to spend time worrying about him on top of everything else going on.
There really wasn't anything Paris could do to make this easier... He just... needed time.
"Be patient with me," he settled for, begging with his eyes and voice and the way he gripped lightly at the leotard Paris wore. He wasn't that easy of a guy to put up with, in all his indulged, pampered ways, but... just a little more patience a little longer... that might be all he needed.
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2012 8:47 pm
“I thought I already was being patient,” Paris replied.
He’d agreed to this… trial separation or whatever it was. Hell, he’d pretty much been the one to suggest it, but that was only because he wouldn’t have been able to bear Chris being the one to say it. He’d sensed it coming as soon as the conversation had started that day, knew it was inevitable the more “I don’t know”s and “I’m feeling trapped”s he’d heard. It had been easier to make it seem like it was his idea—easier for both of them—instead of dealing with the fact that they were coming into this relationship from completely different direction.
He hadn’t pushed Chris at all, at least not as far as he was aware. Paris was trying as hard as he could to give Chris his space while still keeping things together, and he thought he was doing a decent job of it. He wasn’t clingy. He didn’t hover. He wasn’t being obsessive about the little things. In some ways they’d gone back to the state their relationship had been in when they’d first started dating. There was fondness and concern, but enough distance and reserve to hopefully keep things from growing too uncomfortable for his suddenly confused boyfriend.
“But if you want something else… I mean, I don’t really know what else I can do. I feel as lost as you do about all this,” he admitted. He let go of Chris’s face and slid his arms back down to his broad shoulders, squeezing gently.
It might have seemed like a comforting gesture, but at that moment it was meant more for himself than for Chris.
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2012 8:57 pm
"You are," he agreed sheepishly, feeling dumb for asking for something he was already being given. There had to be more than just patience and understanding, though.
"I know... I'm sorry," he said, pulling his hands away from around Paris's back and lifting them to place on his own shoulders. Taking hold of Paris's hands, he gently pulled them off, taking a step backwards towards the open door to his room. "I did want to see you," he admitted again, wanting Paris to know for sure that that was the reason he'd shown up that day. He missed him, and it was lonely in his apartment without anyone but his dog there to keep him company.
He still wanted to be with Paris... And while he knew this wasn't exactly the healthiest ways to work on their relationship, he didn't know what else he could do without Paris thinking he'd moved on completely. He hadn't! He just... didn't know what he wanted. He was a scared little boy who kept circling around his denial and confusion... and sometimes he got sick of it.
Chris didn't say anything more as he reached up to fiddle with the dial of the PA system that was sending music throughout the house, turning it off completely. "I should... change out of my wet clothes at least," he told Paris as he gently tugged on his hands as he stepped back again, hoping that would be enough of an invitation...
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2012 9:12 pm
“I should change out of my wet clothes” had to be one of the worst cases of subterfuge Paris had ever heard. Chris had already turned the music off, a clear indication that dance time was over. Aside from that, Chris would likely have to walk through the rain to his car again when he left. In that case, there wasn’t any point in changing. Furthermore, Chris was tugging on his hands and guiding him toward the bedroom in a way that made his intentions seem to be a bit more than simply changing from one set of clothes to another.
If there was going to be any removal of clothing going on, Paris doubted they’d be replaced very quickly.
In some ways it seemed like a horrible idea. They were supposed to be taking a break, and yet things of this nature still went on quite frequently. For all he knew, when Chris wasn’t with him—which was much more often nowadays than it used to be—his boyfriend could be trying to date other people.
Paris had never asked since he didn’t really want to know the answer, but he’d told Chris he could and a part of him expected Chris would take him up on the offer—eventually, if he hadn’t already. To Paris, it seemed a terrible way to figure out how one felt about someone. And then to allow this, to keep deepening the attachment and catering to hope… what if this was all their relationship ever ended up being? How was it supposed to solve anything?
But Paris was desperate and scrabbling to hold on. If this was all he could get, if this was what Chris wanted, if this was how he could show Chris that he needed and wanted and loved, then he’d take it and hold onto it for as long as he could.
He hesitated for no more than a moment, and then followed Chris to his room.
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