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 Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2012 4:05 pm
It was raining again.
Paris hated it when it rained because it meant he couldn’t go outside unless he wanted to be soaked through, and because he definitely didn’t want that he confined himself indoors and waited the storm out, never knowing when it was going to end and how long he’d be without sun and air and clear sky. Of course, indoors he often had little more than his thoughts to keep him company—not unless Momma was around to coddle him or Peter was in the mood to do something together—and his thoughts were never a very happy place to be these days.
Momma Gallo had taken Peter out earlier to see some museum exhibit Paris didn’t really have an interest in, and so he’d stayed behind. Now he was beginning to think he should have gone whether he’d wanted to or not. He certainly had nothing better to do—no job now that the shop was gone, and no practice or rehearsals to keep him occupied until later in the week.
So he did the only thing he knew to do in situations like this and he practiced on his own. The Gallos’ foyer opened to a Cinderella staircase leading up to a landing that was half-balcony, with wooden floors and a wrought-iron and wooden balustrade that, for someone of his height, made a descent barre when he had no other options available to him. He’d used it a few times since moving in, when weather or schedule or some other obstacle prevented him from going to the studio instead.
He changed into a set of tights and a leotard with shorts pulled over top, slipped on a pair of his dance shoes and threw his hair up out of the way, then went down to the first floor to plug his iPod into the radio and crank the volume up before ascending the stairs to find a spot on the landing and start his barre exercises. With the music up high enough, sometimes the words slipped into his head to momentarily take the place of his thoughts.
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Posted: Thu Jun 21, 2012 11:57 pm
He didn't have an umbrella with him, so he was soaked by the time he made it inside the front doors of his parent's house. He wasn't even sure what excuse he wanted to give for being there, but figured he would be able to make something up depending on the situation.
What he hadn't been expecting was for Paris to be right there when he got through the doors. Sure, the music was still loud and maybe he hadn't noticed him right away, but now he wasn't sure if he was just... interrupting... or if he would be welcome at all, or if Paris would just rather not see him.
After all, Chris had been the one to kick him out.
"Uh... hey," he greeted rather lamely, trying not to sound so out of breath from running up the steps to the front door. He lifted a hand to slide his fingers through his bangs, brushing them back and letting the wet strands fall back over his forehead. "I uh... just need to get something from my room," he went with, feeling like that was the best excuse now... Which just went to show how lame his other excuses must have been.
He glanced up at Paris for a few moments longer before slowly making his way up the stairs, trying not to stare too obviously at his boyfriend's legs as he approached the top.
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Posted: Fri Jun 22, 2012 12:14 am
If Paris felt anything at Chris’s sudden arrival it would have to be surprise. Even with the music up he’d been able to hear the front door open. For just a second he wondered if Momma and Peter were back already, but when he glanced over the railing into the foyer and saw his boyfriend there instead, well… obviously that wasn’t the case.
He paused to stare for a few moments. The only time Paris ever expected to see Chris without arranging a rendezvous ahead of time was on Sunday during (if he went) and after Mass. The rest of the week it was completely up to them if they wanted to see one another. Paris, of course, wanted to see Chris quite often, but as he was doing his best to give him space he hadn’t called or texted as much as he might have had things still been going more smoothly.
Paris waited until Chris had explained his reason for coming, though he had to admit what he eventually got out of him was rather pathetic.
“If you wanted to see me so badly, all you had to do was call,” he joked. He had no idea if that was the real reason Chris had come, but he definitely liked to think it was, and there wasn’t anything stopping him from acting cocky even if that wasn’t the case.
He kept his foot up on the railing as Chris mounted the stairs, continuing through his exercise as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all. Even though his heart was currently doing a little dance in his chest with Chris there, he was determined to keep his cool and not launch himself at his boyfriend to snuggle into his chest like a love-sick idiot.
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 9:43 am
Chris let out a small, unamused laugh as he made his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding eye contact with Paris. He probably sounded too forced, and while he was sure Paris couldn't be certain by just his voice or body language, he knew his eyes would give it away.
He didn't know how, but over the months of knowing him, Chris had come to realize that Paris had a special knack for being able to see right through him if he got the chance to look into his eyes. Seeing as how close he was to guessing the truth, and since Chris wasn't sure he wanted him to know how close he was, focusing on anything but Paris's face was key.
Except for when he caught a glimpse of his legs. Long and bare and up on the banister and... he almost killed himself when he missed the edge of the step.
Cursing and doing his best to hide the red that quickly rose to his face in embarrassment, Chris regained his bearings and stumbled the rest of the way up the stairs and past Paris without another word.
If he was completely honest, he did want to see Paris. He wanted to make sure that he was doing well, that his mother was working her magic on him and keeping him well fed and cared for. Living with his mother meant that there would be very little Paris could hide from her, although it was possible if done correctly. Somehow he hadn't managed to hide more of the embarrassing parts of his days of youth from her (as if he was already an old man), but she was at least never overbearing about it. And if it was a particularly awkward subject, she would leave subtle hints about it until one thought it was their own idea to talk to her about it.
Thankfully, since Paris wasn't her real son, he was able to get out of the house for patrols without being hovered to death.
Chris stood in the doorway of his room, which was really still too close to where Paris was practicing to be able to hide from him completely. He had no idea what he could grab from there to make it seem as though his trip was anything but some lame excuse.
"Mom and Peter aren't here, are they?" he asked as if he only just remembered their existence. While he was sure his mother still loved him and all that, she hadn't been coming over to his apartment any more since he'd decided to test the limits of his independence. Needless to say, it was starting to become a bit of a sty... She was upset with him, he was sure... after all, he'd kinda dumped Paris with her, and even though he knew she didn't mind Paris's presence at all, he had the feeling that she held some amount of bitterness towards her second son's actions.
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 4:54 pm
Paris turned his face away to hide his smile as Chris tripped the rest of the way up the stairs. Of course he would have been concerned if the tripping had turned into falling, but as that hadn’t been the case he could allow himself to be amused by Chris’s awkwardness and embarrassment.
It was one of the few things he had to remind him that Chris cared. Naturally there was the concern that gave him a peek into Chris’s feelings, and the protectiveness his boyfriend always showed in battle, but the blushing and the occasionally clumsy behavior sometimes made it seem as if Chris’s feelings went beyond all that. It reminded him that Chris still wanted him, that Chris still thought he was beautiful, that there might be something in him that was worthy of hanging onto even when everything wasn’t going as perfectly as it had been before—if it had ever been perfect in the first place.
It gave him hope, and a reason to keep hanging on, to do his best and try his hardest to keep Chris for himself, to prove that he was enough, that he was worth the trouble, that there wasn’t anyone out there who was better suited to Chris than he was.
Paris didn’t think there was, but then his opinion wasn’t the only one that mattered.
“They went to one of the museums,” he explained, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the music and the distance between the landing and Chris’s bedroom. “I forget which one. There’s some new exhibit Peter wanted to see, though. They left about a half an hour ago so they’ll probably be gone until later this afternoon.”
If Chris really wanted to see him, Paris didn’t know why he bothered with the secrecy. After a few more moments, Paris removed his leg from the banister to follow his boyfriend to the doorway of his bedroom, taking his arm to gently encourage him to turn around.
“You don’t have to go through with the pretending, you know,” he gently told him. “It’s cute and all, but I thought we agreed before that we were going to be honest with each other. I don’t think that should be any different now, even if we’re not exclusive anymore.”
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Posted: Sun Jun 24, 2012 11:07 pm
Maybe he should try and pretend that he was going to decorate his apartment with some of his old things from his room. Like the framed blueprints hanging on one of his walls... or even some smaller photographs of his family.
Instead, he was stopped by a hand on his arm, and nearly started in surprise. He hadn't heard Paris approach him, so of course he wasn't expecting him to take hold of his arm. It wasn't unwanted though, and Chris turned around to see if everything was okay.
He knew Paris would see it right away. His confusion and concern and his cowardice... This wasn't one of his proudest times in life. He happened to like knowing what he was doing and if he was doing it okay. Right now... he had no idea.
"How do you know me so well?" he mumbled embarrassedly as Paris called him out on his intentions. He shifted awkwardly and leaned up against the door frame. "I didn't mean to interrupt your practice, though..." he told him, glancing down at his feet, not knowing what to do now that he was there. Yeah they had agreed to be honest with each other, but... he didn't want to be there if Paris would rather him not.
After all, he'd been the one to kick him out.
"Of course I wanted to see you," he finally admitted, feeling rather dumb that he'd thought to hide it in the first place. Obviously Paris would figure it out sooner rather than later...
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 1:22 pm
Paris shrugged in response to Chris question. He wasn’t really sure what it was that gave him the ability to read Chris so well, except that they’d been together for… well, officially only six months, and then a few more months before that when Chris had assumed he was a girl, but as far as being exclusive went they’d spent the last year and a couple of months together. Paris had had plenty of time to figure Chris out, to watch and observe and study and see all the little things that made him Chris.
“I was only warming up,” he reassured him. “I didn’t really have anything else to do today and I didn’t want to just sit around, so… I thought getting a little practice in might be a good idea. I don’t care that you’re here, though.”
Well, he did care—not because Chris was interrupting but because Paris really wanted to see him. He didn’t feel like they saw one another enough these days, though he could never tell if it was normal to feel that way about someone he was in love with or if that was just another instance of him being too clingy and obsessive. For now, Paris didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t want to make Chris feel uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to end up looking like a pathetic sap when he was trying to seem as if he were alright with the entire situation.
He let go of Chris’s arm as his boyfriend leaned against the door frame, and then backed up a few steps to watch Chris with a smile. “You can help me,” Paris suggested, holding out one of his hands. “Come on. Come dance with me. I promise I’ll keep it simple.”
He’d always thought it was cute that Chris couldn’t dance—though he didn’t think it was due to a lack of ability so much as it was a lack of confidence. Still, there were times when it encouraged a sort of sadness in him. Dancing on stage was his life, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be able to dance with his boyfriend, too.
The music he had playing was certainly conducive to it, slow and sweet instead of fast and upbeat.
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Posted: Mon Jun 25, 2012 11:49 pm
Chris sputtered at Paris's suggestion for him to dance with him, eyeing him skeptically. "I really can't dance, Paris," he said, although he was sure his boyfriend already knew that. Er... or whatever Paris was to him now with their complicated relationship. He certainly felt as though he was his boyfriend, but was that fair to either of them...?
But as Paris lifted a hand to him and smiled at him with that sweet smile of his... a smile that he was sure would always melt any coldness he felt in his heart... he couldn't just refuse.
Reluctantly and with a small grimace to accompany his utter lack of confidence, Chris reached out to take hold of Paris's hand. He let out a small sigh, as if that had been a feit in itself. "I... really don't know what to do..." he mumbled, feeling a little like an idiot. How long had he known Paris? Yet... he knew so little about something Paris loved with all his heart.
Even still, Chris finally pushed himself away from the frame of his bedroom door to follow wherever Paris was leading him.
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Posted: Tue Jun 26, 2012 12:54 pm
Paris guided Chris back out onto the landing where there was more room to move around, centering them in the middle of it so they didn’t tread too close to the stairs. His smile grew a little wider and fonder as he listened to Chris’s whining, but he didn’t let it deter him.
“Don’t be such a big baby,” he teased him. Still holding Chris’s hand, he tugged on Chris’s arm until it was looping around his waist. “You already know how to waltz. That’s at least a foundation, even if you don’t know how to do anything else yet.”
They’d danced once before, months ago, probably almost a year ago, when he’d first taken Chris to Ganymede. That had of course been before Chris even knew that he was a senshi. The steps then hadn’t been anything complicated, just a few quick turns around the ballroom, but from the experience he had to assume Chris wasn’t completely graceless. He had to have some sort of a rhythm. Paris didn’t know a lot about baseball, but he was at least aware that there was a certain rhythm to pitching.
“Just relax,” Paris told him, placing one hand on one of Chris’s shoulders and rubbing it gently as he took Chris’s other hand in his grasp. “You know how to do this part. I’ll even let you lead. It’s probably less awkward that way anyway with you being so much taller.”
Then he showed Chris a playful grin and gracefully rose up onto the toes of his pointe shoes, effectively decreasing the height gap by several inches. “Unless I do this,” he said.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2012 10:19 pm
Paris received a look of disbelief for pointing out his waltzing skills. He almost asked Paris how he knew he could waltz, but then a time in which he hadn't known Ganymede was Paris, one evening in a ballroom in the light reflected from Jupiter, they had indeed waltzed. Sometimes he wondered if it should have upset him more. The secrets and lack of sexuality crisis, but then... he just didn't want to deal with it.
Either way, he allowed Paris to take hold of his hands and move them to where they were supposed to go. He'd be leading, of course. He wasn't the fact that he felt the need to be more dominant. Hell, even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, Paris did kind of wear the metaphorical pants in their relationship, as far as who took care of who. No, it was only the fact that he was taller and built larger that he would make a better lead. Anyway, Paris's favorite roles were the traditionally female roles, so...
Chris forced back a smile as Paris pushed himself up onto his toes, staring down at him for a few moments before leaning closer to place a kiss on his nose. "Still too short for me to reach," he said, unable to keep his grin back any longer. He stared for another moment, and then pulled Paris closer for a full kiss, but that only lasted a fraction of what he would have liked, reluctantly making himself pull away.
"I guess that isn't helping you dance, huh?" he mumbled sheepishly, fighting back a blush that was threatening to spread across his cheeks, as if he only just remembered that he wasn't supposed to be macking on his semi-boyfriend.
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2012 3:13 pm
“You’re so full of s**t,” Paris jokingly accused, rolling his eyes in response to the kiss against his nose before he got an even better one a few moments later.
He would have liked it to have lasted longer. They didn’t kiss nearly as often anymore as he would have liked—mostly because Paris didn’t want to push his luck and he assumed Chris was trying to keep somewhat of a distance between them, but Paris missed it more than he’d ever say out loud. Not that they’d been relentless kissers before. They’d always kept their relationship relatively private, with a notable lack of extreme PDA, but at least then it’d actually felt like they were in a relationship, even if they kept most of it within the confines of Chris’s apartment.
Now it was just… it didn’t feel as right. It felt broken, and Paris was still floundering around in the middle of it, trying to figure out what was appropriate and what would be too much.
Things would be a hell of a lot easier if he knew how to help Chris move passed all the confusion or the feelings of inadequacy or whatever it was that had come between them.
Paris lowered himself back onto the flats of his feet once the kiss had ended. Despite the stress he often experienced around Chris these days, he found it wasn’t very difficult to keep smiling right then. “I didn’t really expect you to help much,” he admitted reassuringly. “Honestly, I just wanted an excuse to dance with you. It doesn’t really matter to me if you’re terrible at it. We could just sway and I’d be…”
He trailed off before he could say “happy,” because he didn’t know if he felt truly happy anymore, and he eventually finished with, “… I’d be alright with that. Sometimes I just… want to be close…”
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2012 8:51 pm
Chris wondered if he should be surprised that Paris just wanted an excuse to dance with him. It seemed kind of sad that he needed an excuse to do anything with him, but that was the nature of their current relationship... and he knew it was his own fault for it. It was why Paris always seemed to hold himself back when they were together, always cautious around him, always reserved in his usually passionate energy...
Sometimes Chris wondered if it was worth it. Was it really worth giving himself some 'space' in exchange for seeing Paris so reserved in his presence?
He sighed lightly as he stared down at Paris in amazement, and released his hand so he could wrap his arms around him in a tight embrase. But... was this too much? Was he just making Paris more hopeful for things that Chris wasn't sure he wanted? It seemed cruel...
But if Paris wanted to be close... he wanted to be able to give that to him. "I'll do whatever you need me to do," he said with kiss on the top of blond hair. "I'm fine with swaying or dancing or whatever... just tell me what you need..." He couldn't be sure that he would be able to follow through with what Paris requested of him, but he would do his best to accommodate him.
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2012 9:30 pm
“It isn’t really a question of what I need,” Paris said, resting his head on Chris’s shoulder as the pressed closer and started to sway from side to side.
It was more of a question of what he wanted, but apparently what he wanted and what Chris wanted were a bit different, and he wasn’t in the mood to get into that discussion right now. It probably wouldn’t help their relationship at all to avoid things like that, but everything was already complicated enough without adding another layer to it. He was fairly certain Chris knew anyway. Paris might be a little more wary about what he did and said now, but before he’d never held himself back when it came to the “I want you”s and the “I need you”s.
None of that had changed. He didn’t believe Chris was dumb enough to think that it had.
Instead of talking about it, Paris allowed himself to get comfortable against his boyfriend, switching the position of his arms from holding onto Chris’s shoulder and hand to slip them around him and wrap his arms around Chris’s torso. It was the most comfortable Paris had felt with him in the month since their relationship had changed. He thought it must be because he could sense more reciprocation from Chris this time. It seemed more obvious to him now than when Chris had first arrived that Chris hadn’t come to retrieve anything from his bedroom.
He hummed along to the music, continuing to sway as one song changed to another, occasionally mumbling the words when he let himself get lost in the comfort and the warmth of their close positioning. “…don’t wanna leave you really… I’ve invested too much time… To give you up that easy, to the doubts that complicate your mind…”
Paris wouldn’t say he was especially hopeful, but he was learning to take what he could get whenever Chris was willing to offer it, and to try and make things work as long as he still had the chance.
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2012 11:18 pm
Of course he knew. He knew that Paris wanted and needed him. Hell, he was pretty sure that he loved him... But he wasn't going to ask him because he was afraid of the answer. It was probably bad that he didn't know whether or not he wanted it to be true...
He kept his arms around his boyfriend as they swayed together, listening to the music that filled the house. It was... surprisingly stressless for him. Yes, he'd gone there to see Paris, but he hadn't known what to expect. He didn't know if he was pushing the limits of their pseudo-relationship or if it was going to leave them both wanting more. Hell, he was lucky his mom and brother had gone out. Talk about lucky. Peter didn't usually get along with him, but recently he'd been getting rather defensive of everything that happened between he and his boyfriend.
But for now, he wanted to enjoy the moment, and he lowered his head to breathe in the scent of the shampoo Paris used. The smell that had faded from his apartment and left it feeling empty and cold. He associated the smell to Paris and, well, warmth... It was probably really corny to think that, though... so he didn't dare say anything about it...
His eyes closed against the words, as if they were accusing him of something he shouldn't be doing. He knew he'd hurt Paris when he pushed him out, but he didn't have to remind him like this...
So he held on tighter, pulling Paris close against him, too tightly to continue swaying with ease. He buried his face against Paris's hair, his cheek against his temple so he couldn't see his face as he squeezed probably a little too tightly. It was moments when he felt the most guilty that he wanted to forgo his desire to stay away, to ask Paris to come back with him... but that wouldn't solve anything. That would just lead to the same complications his asking Paris to move in caused.
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Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2012 12:15 pm
Paris realized he might have picked the wrong thing to mindlessly mumble along to when Chris’s arms tightened around him and practically crushed him against his boyfriend’s larger body.
“Oh, sorry,” Paris quickly apologized. He didn’t fight the embrace, just stood there and let Chris hold on as long as he wanted to. “Sorry, that was stupid. I didn’t mean—”
He cut himself off before he could say something else stupid, keeping his head on Chris’s shoulder and tightening his arms around Chris’s torso to reciprocate the tight hug. It was perhaps a bit too tight for Paris, who felt a bit cloistered and squeezed, but he could still breathe and he didn’t exactly want to pull away just yet, so he didn’t say anything that might have encouraged Chris to let go.
He kept his mouth shut for a little while, concerned now about the impression he might be giving off. He hated that more than anything, that he was always second guessing himself and being over-cautious about his behavior. Before, he’d been able to just be himself. He’d always been able to who he was without any regrets when he was with Chris—even when Chris had thought he was a girl, everything else Paris had ever done or said had been true to who he was. He’d never felt the need to hide anything else from Chris, just that one truth and Ganymede, but after those two secrets had been revealed there hadn’t been any point in keeping another one.
Paris didn’t like the feeling that he couldn’t be that honest anymore.
“That’s not true,” he said quietly. He struggled then, but only enough to be able to lift his head and look Chris in the eye. “I do mean it,” he told him slowly. “I don’t want to give up… because… no matter what you think… I know I don’t belong with anyone else…”
When the honesty stopped, then he really would have no chance.
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