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 Posted: Tue May 01, 2012 11:03 pm
Chris brushed his teeth slowly, watching warily out of the corner of his eye as Paris went about washing his face and getting ready for bed as well. For as well as Paris seemed to be taking the recent death of his father, new information had come forth about his boyfriend to make Chris start watching him more carefully.
At first he didn't notice much difference. He was so used to being around Paris by now that things like skin color and general fatigue could easily be masked with an excuse of 'it was a long day' or 'practice was rough' and pushed to the side with a kiss and smile of reassurance.
But now... now that Chris knew there was something going on, he thought he could tell that Paris seemed a bit thinner and paler than usual. He hadn't touched much of his dinner, either. He smiled and told Chris about his day... the usual things.
He turned on the faucet to rinse out his mouth and dropped his toothbrush responsibly into its holder (because he so didn't want his toothbrush touching anything but his teeth), and held out a towel for Paris as he felt around for one. He didn't say anything though. He didn't know how to ask him about it... How was he supposed to broach the subject, anyway?? 'Oh hey, Paris... I heard some things about you'? Right, like that would go over well.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 1:29 pm
Paris patted his face dry with the offered towel and smiled at his boyfriend in thanks.
It had been a long day. All of his days were long, really. Or at least they felt that way now. Between walking Anna and jogging every morning, making breakfast, lunch and dinner, keeping the apartment clean, practicing for upcoming shows, cleaning out the house and closing down the shop, and the patrols he tried to go on at least four nights a week, there was a lot to keep him occupied. It was exhausting sometimes, but he preferred it to having nothing to do. This way he didn’t have to think, and if he didn’t have to think he didn’t really have to feel.
Done with his face, Paris hung the towel back in its appropriate place and grabbed his own toothbrush to vigorously brush his teeth. He spent the first few moments absently watching himself in the mirror, letting his mind wander off to innocent things, like what he wanted to make for dinner tomorrow and what they needed to buy at the store when they went grocery shopping that weekend. Nothing too serious. These days he tried to focus more on the mundane.
It wasn’t long, however, before he realized he had an audience. Although it wasn’t uncommon for he and Chris to get ready for bed together, Chris didn’t usually watch him quite so intently.
“Something wrong?” Paris asked after spitting some of the foam from his mouth. “You’ve got your serious face on.”
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 2:18 pm
He felt horrible that it had to be someone else to point out things about his boyfriend that he should have noticed, himself. How long had this been happening? How long had Paris been suffering alone without any help? He knew it had to have been due to his father passing, but had this happened before? Why would he think it was okay to just... hurt himself like that?
Chris blinked, his thoughts coming back to the present moment when Paris spoke up. "What? No..." he mumbled, lifting a hand to rub at his face, as if that would magically make it appear less serious and not as suspicious. It really didn't do anything besides make him notice how disheveled his hair looked, and how he would definitely need to shave in the morning. It was usually a given that he would shave, but actually noticing the shadow of his facial hair reminded him, all the same.
"We should go on a vacation this weekend," he said, picking up a brush to quickly try and get his shaggy hair back into place. He knew he should probably get it cut, but he'd gotten used to it and wasn't ready for such a little change just yet. Of course, he grimaced as he placed the brush back down, "Oh right... we can't this weekend... Christa wanted everyone to meet up."
He was perfectly fine with meeting up with the Jovians, but the possibility of others being there... didn't sit entirely comfortable with him. Which was why he'd requested a meeting place other than his apartment roof. Not to protect himself, of course... but Paris lived with him now, and he couldn't risk someone he cared for being put in danger because of his own recklessness.
"Maybe the weekend after, then... How are you feeling?" he asked, trying to sound casual and offhanded about it. He thought he did a pretty good job about it.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 2:47 pm
Though he stuck his toothbrush back into his mouth to continue brushing, the movement was slower than it had been. Paris continued to stare at Chris curiously, first turned toward him and then through the mirror. Something seemed a little off. He didn’t know what it was, of course, just that Chris seemed a little uneasy and not at all as casual as he was trying to sound.
After leaning over the sink to spit again, Paris rinsed off his brush and placed it back into the holder. He washed his mouth out with water as well, and wiped any excess foam off with a towel.
“I feel fine,” he said, giving Chris an odd look.
Any sign that Chris might not believe him was cause for concern. He wanted Chris to believe him. He wanted to believe himself. He needed to be fine. He didn’t want to mope or pine or fall apart, because he had too much to do without dealing with that sort of emotional turmoil. Besides, he thought he’d done enough of it. He’d gone through the stages, hadn’t he? The denial and the anger and acceptance. Hadn’t he mourned and cried enough already? Shouldn’t he be able to move on?
He hadn’t, but he still wanted people to believe that he had.
Paris sifted through some of the other bottles and containers he had lined neatly on the counter, gently dabbing on some eye cream before applying his nightly moisturizer—a routine he’d fallen into not because it was the thing to do, but because he actually gave a damn about what his skin looked like.
“We can go on a vacation if you want,” he allowed. “I don’t know where we’d go. The beach? I thought we were gonna try going with Billy and Ladon. Not that we can’t go ourselves, but… I mean, obviously I don’t mind. It’s not like there’s very many other places to go around here.”
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 3:23 pm
Observing Paris made Chris aware that he was suddenly being observed in return, and tried to casually look away, turning so he could lean up against the counter, his ankles and arms crossed as Paris continued getting ready for bed. It wasn't unusual for them to have conversations in the same room, until they were both done with whatever they were busy with. Or rather, Chris hung out in the same room with Paris until he was done, whether it be cooking or getting ready for bed, or whatever. So this was just like any other time, right?
"We can go to the beach. We don't have to wait for Ladon and Billy, do we? Who knows when Billy will get his s**t sorted out. Maybe we can get Ladon to come along with us... but I'd doubt he'd leave without Billy... I wouldn't go on vacation without you," he said with a small shrug, trying to figure out how to make it work for all of them. The way in which Billy felt... threatened or jealous or whatever about him made Chris feel rather self-conscious.
Chris glanced over at Paris out of the corner of his eye, before uncrossing his arms just enough to pick at a loose thread that didn't exist. "What would you think about me going jogging with you in the mornings? I won't have to stay as long for practice after school," he suggested, again hoping that it sounded casual enough to not alarm Paris in any way.
"I feel like I only see you after school these days... I mean, school's almost over... so I think I'd like to get in the habit of getting up early still..."
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 3:37 pm
“We can go whenever you want, with or without whoever you want. I’d just need to make sure people know I won’t be around is all,” Paris said.
He’d just finished with his moisturizer when Chris seemed to oh-so-casually bring up jogging. This might not have alerted Paris to anything out of the ordinary under normal circumstances, but as he didn’t even jog when Chris was around, well… he couldn’t help but think there was more to it than Chris wanting to spend more time with him. He gave his boyfriend another curious stare through the mirror—which was easier than facing him when Paris was trying to hide something.
“You’re already off to school when I go jogging,” he pointed out. Most days he woke up, walked Anna, came back to make breakfast and pack Chris’s lunch, then changed and pulled on his shoes when Chris was out the door and jogged for about half an hour before returning to shower and change again, before going about the rest of his day.
“Besides, I like to jog alone. It gives me time to think,” he added, leaning closer to the mirror to pretend as if he were inspecting his face again, even though he’d already finished up. “We’ll be able to spend plenty of time together once you’re out of school. If you really want to get up early, you can take over walking Anna again. It wouldn’t hurt to get a summer job, either. Or even go to the shelter more. You haven’t had as much time for that lately.”
If Chris meant anything else by his suggestion, Paris acted as if he had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t see how Chris could possibly know anyway. As he’d said, Chris wasn’t usually around when he jogged. He waited until Chris was gone on purpose, and he never did it on the weekends, when Chris might be able to spy him out the window.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 3:52 pm
"Okay... Weekend after next, let's go to the beach," he decided, although that wasn't at all what he wanted to talk about. He knew Paris didn't go jogging on the weekends, because that would risk him finding out... Well, he obviously didn't realize there were other ways for him to find out about his boyfriend's health hazards...
"Well, yeah..." he shrugged again, pushing off the counter so he could step closer to Paris now that he was done with his lotion. "I meant before school..." He paused, reaching out to place his hands on Paris's shoulders, gently massaging them as he stood behind him, trying to gage his expression through the mirror. "And I was planning on going to the shelter more... Once school is done, I mean... And once we make sure the others don't need us for anything..."
Paris would know what he'd meant by 'others'. If the Jovians needed them for anything, they would do their best to help out, of course. But other than that, he had little else planned for the summer. He wasn't all that interested in getting a job, though. There was no need for that, really...
"Are you really feeling okay, Paris...?" he asked again, this time making sure to actually look him in the eye. They'd promised they wouldn't keep any more secrets, so... Paris would tell him, right...? He didn't want to have to call him out for hiding things from him...
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 4:05 pm
Paris didn’t think he was hiding anything. Maybe he wasn’t telling Chris about every second of every day, but that wasn’t hiding something, that was just… revealing only the important details of his life. Dance was important; talking about anything he may or may not do when he went out jogging definitely wasn’t. It wasn’t like before, when he’d pretended to be a girl or hadn’t told Chris he was Ganymede. That was hiding something.
This… this was just… it was different, because it had nothing to do with his relationship with Chris and everything to do with coping with a situation Chris could hardly even begin to understand.
“Of course I’m okay,” he said carefully. “I just told you I was fine.”
He looked directly at Chris through the mirror as he said it in case his boyfriend should take his inability to face him as a sign that he was lying. Paris only averted his eyes when he found something believable to occupy himself with. This time it ended up being his hair. He pulled out the pins he’s used to keep his bangs out of his face, then tugged at the elastic holding his hair in a messy bun and let it fall free. Grabbing his brush, he dragged it through his hair a few times before setting it back on the counter and turning around to face Chris with a smile.
“Come on. Let’s go to bed,” he suggested. “I’m a little tired. It’s been a long day, and you have a game tomorrow.”
Paris threw his arms around Chris and leaned up to mash their lips together, mumbling against his mouth, “It’s still a little early, though, if you don’t want to go to sleep right away.”
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 5:13 pm
Chris almost groaned in frustration as Paris leaned up to kiss him, knowing very well that this conversation was no where near under control. He hated having to circle around like he was doing, but he didn't want to sound like he was accusing Paris of anything, and he didn't want to make it seem as though he didn't care... because he did!
He kissed his boyfriend back for a few moments, before pulling away. He kept his hands on Paris's shoulders to keep him from getting up on his tiptoes, though.
Not that he wanted to have this conversation in the bathroom! That would make things just... strange...
Chris looked down at Paris in what he knew was clearly a conflicted expression, before gently pulling him out the door with him, grumbling about how the bed would be more comfortable, anyway. But he was determined not to be distracted by intimate suggestions or... anything like that! This was a serious conversation he was trying to have.
"Paris... I don't think you should go running by yourself any more," he started as he sat down on the edge of the bed, doing his best to keep Paris at arm's length. Okay, maybe this was a bad idea and he really should have discussed all this with Paris in the bathroom...
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 5:30 pm
Paris allowed the distance while they left the bathroom, figuring he could make a much better case while they were actually in bed. He followed Chris and sat beside him on the mattress, but frowned at the comment as well as the fact that Chris seemed intent on keeping the distance between them until he’d gotten out whatever it was he was trying to say.
“Christopher…” Paris mocked him, tilting his head and leveling him with a serious stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can run just fine on my own. It’s not like youma are jumping out at me left and right or anything like that.”
Of course, Paris had a pretty good idea what Chris was trying to get at. He wasn’t dumb. There weren’t very many reasons his boyfriend would try to stop him from doing something that usually seemed quite healthy. Either he was concerned for his safety or he’d somehow figured out that Paris’s version of running was a bit more intense than a normal round of exercise, and since Chris didn’t generally have a problem with him going out on his own he could only assume this conversation had stemmed from the latter.
But how the hell had Chris found out about it? It wasn’t as if he wasn’t careful. He ran at certain times so as to go unnoticed, he never let Chris see him falling apart—not after that first night—and he was usually in a pretty good mood whenever he saw him. He was getting by. He was making this work.
“You’re being ridiculous. I told you I’d rather jog alone anyway. I do it to clear my head.”
Not because he wanted to think more clearly, but because he didn’t want to think at all.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 5:51 pm
"I'm not worried about you getting attacked by youma," he breathed, almost exasperated. "You could kick my a** if you really wanted... I know you can handle yourself in a fight like that," he tried to explain, reaching out to grab hold of one of Paris's hands, although that was probably to keep him from jumping up more than it was for comfort. It was true, though. Paris was a lot stronger than he was when they were powered up. Even though he liked to fuss and try and protect him, he knew there wasn't much for him to worry about. At least not when it came to the majority of their opponents.
"I don't want you hurting yourself any more," he finally admitted, knowing that Paris should know what he was talking about at this point. "Your running... it's not healthy..." And if Paris ended up hurting himself, Chris didn't know what he'd do. Probably blame himself. Hell, he already blamed himself for not realizing sooner that something was up.
"Paris, I know you're not jogging... You're not pacing yourself, and you're making yourself sick. You need to stop this... please." While he didn't want the conversation to dissolve into him begging, he did want Paris to realize the severity of what he was doing to himself.
"Robert told me," he further explained, knowing Paris would probably be wondering how he'd found out. "He said that you go out running and puke when you get back." He kept a tight hold on Paris's hand, expecting him to try and escape, but he wasn't about to let him. Not right now, at least.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 6:06 pm
The urge to escape was indeed pretty strong. It was the preferred option in situations like this, but as Chris had a hold of his hand and didn’t seem inclined to let go, and as Chris could easily catch him and hold him still before Paris even had the chance to make a good try for it, he knew better than to bother. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. If anything it’d only lead to a fight, and Paris didn’t really care for another dumb fight right now.
His next choice would be to pretend as if he had no idea what Chris was talking about. He actually opened his mouth to announce his confusion, but the look on Chris’s face held the effort at bay. Chris wasn’t stupid any more than he was. He wasn’t going to buy an outright lie when he already knew the truth, and then Paris would be left explaining himself and trying, as with the previous option, to keep things from spiraling down into a terrible argument.
He didn’t know how well he’d even be able to handle an argument these days.
And so, with few other choices left to him, Paris settled for the third and least risky option: making light of the whole affair.
“Oh,” he said, and smiled a comforting smile, as if Chris were making a big deal out of something of little consequence. “Well, that’s not really anything to worry about. I just got a little carried away a few times, that’s all. I don’t know what Robert told you-” And he’d be sure to steer clear of the ******** doorman from now on—that old, nosey b*****d. “-but I’m fine, I swear. I just like to run when I get stressed out. I did it last year when I became a senshi. I just need time to… you know… work things out.”
Paris thought he even sounded pretty convincing. His voice was steady, he kept a smile on his face, and he locked eyes with Chris the entire time.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 6:19 pm
Chris stared at him as he tried to explain, shrugging it off as thought it was nothing... That wasn't like Paris... was it? Did he always pretend that the things that bothered him was nothing?
He didn't say anything for a several long moments. He looked back at Paris as he smiled and said it was nothing, but Chris wasn't convinced. Instead, he just felt sick. Obviously not as sick as Paris, but he felt like he was missing even more than he realized.
"You can't just say that," he finally spoke up, unable to stop himself from feeling just a bit queazy. "You've been throwing up after you run every day, Paris... You can't just say it's nothing to worry about. You can't do that..." He couldn't just pretend that everything was okay when it wasn't. He had people who cared about him, people who could help him. He didn't want to feel as though he couldn't trust Paris to take care of himself when horrible things happened. What if something happened to him...?
Okay... that was a little self-absorbed to think that way, wasn't it? Paris had his mother still, he had his mother and family. If he wasn't able to take care of Paris for whatever reason, it wasn't as though he'd just wither way into nothing.
"I don't want you to keep doing it... If you want to run by yourself... let me come with you and run behind you... I won't talk or anything... You won't even know I'm there..." It was a stretch, but he was willing to do pretty much anything to make sure Paris didn't hurt himself any more.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 6:33 pm
“It’s not every day,” Paris denied. It was a lie but, again, he thought he did a fairly good job pretending as if it wasn’t. “Who told you it was every day? The door man? He’s exaggerating. It’s only been a few times. I’m usually a lot better at pacing myself, but sometimes I just get lost in thought and… well… maybe I go too far.”
That was okay to admit, even as he tried to lessen the severity of the issue. If Chris was going to insist on talking about this, then Paris supposed he could admit to some of it. Just some. Not all of it. He didn’t want Chris fretting over him. He didn’t want Chris making him talk about it or making him think about it or forcing him to feel. He felt enough. He ran and he pushed it all out and he let himself cry and feel everything all at once, and then when it was over he could get through the day, the week, the month, however long he needed.
“You can’t come with me,” Paris told him. He kept his smile on, sweet and innocent and reassuring, like Chris was overreacting and making a big deal out of nothing.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it wasn’t. Paris didn’t know. What he did know was that it wouldn’t last forever. It hadn’t last year. He’d gone through the paces and run everything out, and then he’d moved on with his life as it was. It was a process. He needed to work through it, and he’d rather do that alone.
“I’d know you’re there even if I couldn’t see you. It’d distract me. Then there’d be no point in running at all.”
Casually, Paris reached down to pull his t-shirt over his head. The action might seem natural, another step toward being ready for bed, but Paris had other ideas. If Chris wasn’t going to let him close enough to distract him with a kiss, then clothing removal seemed like the next best thing.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 6:58 pm
He released his hand when Paris went to pull off his shirt, letting out a small sigh and wondering if he should lie to make him talk more... He could always lie and say that Robert let him look at the security video for every day that Paris threw up after running, but he knew that would be too much. He didn't want to add to the cycle. He didn't want Paris to think he couldn't trust him to tell the truth.
Chris groaned as he thought about giving up, flopping back onto the bed. This was no time for him to have a temper tantrum, but it was really difficult to keep his patience when Paris was being so flippant about how he took care of himself. He wasn't okay. Chris could see that he wasn't okay and he was just pretending that he was.
"Damn it, Paris. I wish you would just talk to me sometimes. Your dad just died, you've been pushing yourself so hard when you run that you get sick... What the hell do you want from me??" he asked through gritted teeth, hands held together over his forehead as if trying to physically keep his temper at bay.
He wasn't angry with his boyfriend. If anything, he was upset and maybe even a bit scared that Paris would push himself too far one day. He was strong, but he wasn't invincible.
"What's the point of running? To just... clear your head? Why can't you do that on a treadmill or something? I could get you a treadmill so you wouldn't have to go out it that'll keep you from 'going too far'..."
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