Word Count: 1325

There were a lot of people Chris could go to for advice if he needed it: his mother, his father, Zia, Daniel, Paris...

Unfortunately, he didn’t always feel comfortable talking to his mother when it came to certain aspects of his life, his father had more important things to be worrying about that had absolutely nothing to do with his son’s love-life, Zia had the potential to cave to jealousy or grow defensive of him when it came to his relationships with other people, Daniel had his own life to worry about without Chris moaning and groaning like a spoiled brat, and Paris…

Well, he couldn’t talk to Paris about this because it was about Paris.

“I think I made a mistake when I told Paris to move in with me.”

He was in the middle of helping Michael unload the trunk of his older brother’s car, which was filled to the brim with groceries. Both he and his older brother had the habit of letting things run out when there wasn’t anyone there to replace them. The only difference was that Michael was capable of eventually doing the shopping himself once he’d grown tired of takeout, whereas Chris still relied on his mother and Paris to stock his refrigerator and cabinets for him.

He told himself it wasn’t because he was lazy. He just didn’t think about it until they’d already done it.

Michael loaded a few bags onto each arm and carried them into the house he shared with some dude Chris had never appropriately met. Chris hoisted a case of Dr. Pepper onto each shoulder and followed suit.

“Why?” his older brother asked once they’d made it into the kitchen. He didn’t sound all that interested, but Chris knew he wouldn’t tell him to shut up about it either.

That sort of casual behavior was exactly what he was looking for.

“Because he’s just… I don’t know.”

“Obsessive?” Michael suggested, depositing his booty onto the kitchen counter.

“He’s not obsessive,” Chris denied, setting the two cases of Dr. Pepper down to join the bags of food.

Maybe once or twice he might have used that word to describe some of Paris’s behavior, but it didn’t sound very nice when he heard it from other people, and some sort of defensive or protective streak had him rising to his boyfriend’s defense. He thought “obsessive” made Paris seem like a creep, which he definitely wasn’t. He was just… very passionate.

Chris trailed behind Michael as they made their way back out to the car again, trying to find a better way to explain himself. “I just think Paris is more invested in this than I am, and I don’t think it’s fair to him.”

Okay, so that didn’t sound much better. If anything he thought it made him sound like an uncaring b*****d.

“I mean, he’s great. I really, really like him, and at first I didn’t think living together would be so bad, and it isn’t, but it just seems like too much sometimes. He’s so into it. It’s like I’m all he thinks about 24/7, and even though I know that’s not true… I don’t feel like I’m giving as much, and I don’t really think I can, and it just doesn’t seem right that he’s thinking one thing and I’m not at that stage yet.”

“What stage?” Michael wondered. He loaded his arms up with bags again and shut the trunk once Chris had grabbed the last few.

“Well, he sort of said some stuff the night his dad died, when he was drunk. At first I thought it was because he was drinking and maybe he didn’t really mean it, but… I don’t know. Watching him, listening to him, being around him all the time… he hasn’t said it since then, but now I don’t think it was just the alcohol talking.”

“Okay, so he’s in love with you. So what?”

“I didn’t say that’s what he said.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not an idiot. I know what you meant.”

“Well, I don’t think… I mean, I don’t know if… I just don’t think I’m being very fair to him,” Chris explained, though it wasn’t any different than what he’d been saying all along.

They set the last collection of bags with all the rest. While Michael began to put all the frozen food away before it could start to melt, Chris leaned against the counter and helped himself to a Dr. Pepper.

“So have him move out,” Michael said, carelessly tossing a carton of ice-cream into the freezer.

“I can’t do that!” Chris argued.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m the one who told him he could live with me!”

“Right, so you can tell him to pack his things and get out.”

“Michael, his dad just died.”

“Doesn’t make you love him, does it?”

Chris stopped himself from answering right away and frowned. He was afraid he might say something insensitive, and he really didn’t want to start being insensitive toward his boyfriend after everything Paris had already been through. He felt like he already was, and he didn’t like that at all.

He was better than this. What the ******** was wrong with him?

“I care about him... a lot… a whole lot… but I just… I don’t know…” he finally said.

“Caring doesn’t mean it’s love, and trying to force it would be worse than telling the truth,” Michael replied.

Chris sighed and took a swing of his drink and figured his brother was probably right.

“So what do I do?” he asked.

“Doesn’t he have any friends he can stay with?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s kind of asking a lot of them, don’t you think?”

“So ship him off to Mom.”

Chris sputtered and set his drink down before he could drop it. “I can’t send him to Mom!” he insisted.

“Why not?” Michael asked.

“Because… because she’ll just give me that sad, disappointed look like she thinks I’m doing something wrong!”

“You could talk to her about it and I bet she’d be more understanding.”

“Right, because that’s so easy.”

Michael shrugged and said, “Could be.”

Chris stared at his brother and watched him remove a beer from the refrigerator once all the frozen food had been put away. Neither of them moved to do anything about the dry goods and non-perishables. Chris suspected the rest of it would sit there for a few hours before anyone thought to finish up.

He wondered if talking to his brother about this was really such a good idea, but Michael had never given him bad advice before. There was something about Michael’s bluntness and honesty that Chris liked, even if his older brother often made things seem easier than he thought they really were. At least he didn’t sugarcoat things or coddle him or completely overreact. He listened and he responded objectively, which Chris thought he was in desperate need of in this situation.

“Do you want to break up with him?” Michael suddenly asked, casually leaning against the opposite counter.

Chris looked down and fiddled with the top of his drink can. “Not really. I mean… no… I don’t, but… sometimes I think taking a break might help me get a little perspective.”

“Then take a break.”

“I wish things were that simple,” Chris said with a humorless laugh.

Michael snorted. “Nothing’s ever that simple, but you can’t keep edging around the issue and hope it’ll go away. Trust me, it won’t. You’ll just make things worse for the both of you.”

Chris tried to think of another way around it but eventually relented. “You’re probably right.”

“‘Course I am,” Michael joked. “I do have seven extra years of experience.”

Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head while fighting a smile.

He tried not to think about the choice he had to make.

He had a feeling it was going to be messy either way.