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 Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2012 11:02 pm
“Saaaay you love him and my liiiiiife iiiiis oooveeer… Either waaaaaay you choose he has to wiiiiiin…”
There was music in Chris’s apartment again.
This may or may not have been to Chris’s liking, though at the moment Paris didn’t particularly care what was to Chris’s liking, as he was the one currently picking up Chris’s things. He didn’t ever mind this—not really—even when he gave Chris a hard time about it, but if he was going to do it, he was going to do it with music, and Chris would just have to learn to like it or suffer through.
Paris was sure he secretly liked it.
He hadn’t been to Chris’s apartment in quite some times—not since the day he’d moved out, in fact. It had seemed like a bad idea to him, even though they’d still technically been dating. Chris’s apartment had always been something of a sanctuary for him, peaceful and safe, but he’d known that if he’d ever let himself set foot in it again, he never would have given Chris the space he needed. He would have made himself feel right at home—like he was now—and seriously considered staying there forever, which would have done absolutely nothing to help their situation.
They hadn’t moved back in together yet. Paris was still hesitant about it, though he’d yet to tell Chris, and had only come over once or twice since the “I love you”s were first exchanged. The rest of their time they spent together either out on the town or at Chris’s parents’ house, easing themselves back into the relationship.
Of course, when Chris had made a few comments about the state of his apartment—and Paris expected he’d done it on purpose, knowing what the outcome would be—Paris did what he’d always done and, out of the goodness of his heart, offered to help him clean.
As always, “help him clean” had already turned into just “clean.”
He made sure to play his music extra loud and sing along obnoxiously to make up for it.
“So do you end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave-… Why make her lie to you to saaaaaaave meeeeee…?”
Whatever. He could do things like that. Chris was totally in love with him.
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 4:14 am
Chris had sworn that he'd help Paris with cleaning his apartment when he'd convinced him to come over. And he had for a little bit! But then he remembered that he had some emails to work on, so he told Paris 'just a few minutes' and went to grab his laptop so he could sit at the kitchen counter (one of the first places Paris had already cleaned), and started working on the things he was responsible for.
Okay, so... watching YouTube videos had nothing to do emails, OR cleaning the apartment, but that's what he was doing. He'd at least had the decency to turn the sound down enough so that he wasn't disturbing Paris as he worked, right??
Either way, it was good to be able to have Paris back at his place for the first time in months. He knew it had kind of gotten a bit shabby in Paris's absence. There just hadn't been any reason for him to put things away, really! The plates he did use were piled up in the sink for weeks, various pieces of clothes strewn about, from the loft to the rest of the apartment, and there were a few empty pizza boxes by the couch.
Hey, he'd at least thrown out the trash on occasion, because that was part of the responsibilities he held on to even when Paris had been living with him for that brief amount of time. If he was going to be moving back in, he could only guess that he'd want the place to look tolerable and smell... not like old pizza and gym socks.
What?? He was a dude. He was totally allowed to have a mess everywhere... or something... It helped to stimulate his creativity! Just like the videos on YouTube.
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 11:37 am
Being a dude was not Paris’s idea of a good excuse. In his mind, one’s gender did not preclude one from partaking in certain activities. In Chris’s case he was more inclined to believe that the unwillingness to clean was an effect of him having been spoiled as a child—if not outright laziness—considering Momma used to come over to clean for him even though he was no longer living at home. Paris suspected this was a circumstance that would soon be in place again now that Chris’s bid for “independence” was well and truly over.
Honestly, he loved the Gallos, but the boys were all so spoiled and Momma just let them get away with it. If they’d been shitty people on top of that, Paris would have had more of a problem. As it was, he could only roll his eyes and try not to let himself think it was sweet the way Chris acted like such a big, helpless baby sometimes.
He definitely didn’t let himself think of his father, who’d nearly been the exact same way except that he’d had an a*****e-ish attitude on top of it.
“This place is a mess,” Paris announced, calling out over the banister separating the loft from the long fall below. “And you were going to let your mother come over and clean it for you? She’d have a heart attack if she saw this place.”
So, really, Paris was just saving Momma from an untimely death.
He’d finished in the kitchen, the living room, most of the downstairs in fact, and had slowly been making his way up to the loft, tossing Chris’s dirty clothes into the hamper—the lazy bum even had a freaking hamper that he couldn’t seem to make himself use—as he drew closer and closer to taking the dreaded look into the bathroom.
Paris did not like to think of himself as a clean freak. He wasn’t overly concerned with germs, and he didn’t really mind a little clutter here and there. His room at his father’s house hadn’t exactly been a model in perfection, but he did think a place should at least be neat and taken care of. It was a matter of pride, and with a place like this… well… he would have expected a bit more pride to have been put into it.
When he stepped into the bathroom, he was pretty sure his boyfriend’s pride didn’t extend that far.
“Christopher!” he shouted, turned back out, marched over to the banister, and shouted again, “Christopher! Get up here!”
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 3:59 pm
There was nothing wrong with being a little lazy, was there? It wasn't like he was lazy in other areas of his life! Just when it came to cleaning his apartment and picking up after himself. He still took care of his dog, gave her baths, took care of himself, his school work, his car, and all that... so what was a little mess going to do?
Apparently it was enough to get his boyfriend yelling like he'd found something alive that wasn't supposed to be.
He flinched at the call of his name, moving the curser up to pause the video and slowly make his way up the stairs to the loft, cautiously glancing around the corner. "Uh... problem...?" he mumbled sheepishly, although he could probably make an educated guess as to what Paris was suddenly yelling about.
"I, uh... I mean, I tried to clean it... But I didn't know how," he tried to excuse himself, hesitating close to the stairs, not all the way up them just yet, but enough to see where Paris was standing. "It's... not that bad... I mean... I've been in much worse, right? Public restrooms and all..."
Uh, yeah, he had a feeling that this wasn't going to get him on his boyfriend's good side... ugh...
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 4:13 pm
Paris watched Chris climb the stairs, and then crossed his arms over his chest and stood there with one hip to the side to show how very unimpressed he was when he and Chris were close enough to talk to one another without having to shout over the music.
“Christopher,” Paris said again. He only ever used Chris’s full given name under two different circumstances—either A) when he was trying to be obnoxious, or B) when he was displeased with something his boyfriend had done.
Or, in this case, not done.
No, the bathroom was not as bad as it could have been, but he was sure that was only because Chris didn’t use all of it. The bathtub looked okay, probably since Chris showered instead of taking baths, and the sink on the left looked like it hadn’t been touched at all since he’d left—no shock there since that was the one he commandeered for himself. But the shower stall had obviously not been taken care of, the sink on the right was filthy, and the toilet was absolutely disgusting.
If anything was alive in there that shouldn’t have been, it was in the toilet.
“I can honestly say that is the most disgusting bathroom I have ever seen, and I’m not even talking about the towels you just left on the floor or the crusted over toothpaste in the sink. There is s**t growing in your toilet, and no, that is not literal or a pun. I would never use a toilet that looked like that, and I don’t even sit on them all the time.”
Just because he dressed like a girl and liked some “girly” things didn’t mean he always went about his business like one. Really, it depended on his mood, what bathroom he was using, and the state of said bathroom’s toilet.
Chris’s was so bad Paris wouldn’t even want to stand in front of it.
“What the hell were you doing in here the entire time I was gone?”
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 5:17 pm
Chris ducked his head down in shame when Paris pointed out just what he found disgusting about his bathroom, unable to look him in the eye for fear of turning into a tomato in embarrassment. "I didn't... do anything... Like, not anything not normal," he mumbled, practically cowering under Paris's displeasure.
Maybe if he acted pitiful enough, Paris would forgive him and he would get away with it. At least the downstairs bathroom wasn't as bad, right...? Or maybe Paris just hadn't checked in there, yet...
"It's not like I didn't try to clean it! I squeezed some of that stuff into it... and poured powder on the sink... I just... I don't know, it's not my fault no one ever showed me how," he whined, still hiding partially on the stairs.
After just getting back together with his boyfriend, the last thing he wanted to do was upset him over something stupid like an uncleaned bathroom. Couldn't they just... watch a movie and make out after eating something Paris made for the both of them? That would be a much better idea in his opinion. Hell, he wouldn't mind not making out and just watching some lame Disney movie that Paris happened to like.
It didn't have to be this complicated!!
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 5:57 pm
This was not complicated. This was common hygiene and proper sanitation.
Paris stared at Chris for a little longer before falling into motion and descending the stairs, gracefully moving around his boyfriend to make his way down to the main floor. Once there, he went into the kitchen to rummage around under the sink for the appropriate cleaning supplies to use in the bathroom, and then made a brief pit-stop into the laundry room down the back hall to grab some bleach.
With the state the bathroom was in, they were going to need it.
He made his way back up the stairs with purpose, passing Chris and glancing at him over his shoulder as he said, “You’re coming with me,” as kindly but as firmly as he could.
The clothes on the floor he could tolerate. The dishes in the sink he didn’t mind. But a bathroom he suspected hadn’t been cleaned since he’d last been there two months ago? Absolutely not. He honestly had no idea how Chris could even live like that considering how clean and free of clutter Momma kept her house. One would think Chris would have learned a thing or two from her, but either Momma had shooed him off when he’d tried and insisted on doing it all herself, or Chris hadn’t bothered to offer.
Paris was sure it had been a little of both.
Determined, Paris led his boyfriend into the bathroom and set his haul on the counter between the two sinks. Then he went back to the toilet—wrinkling his nose as he did so—and grabbed the scrub brush that stood to the side of it in its charming holding. He held it out for Chris to take.
“We’re going to clean the bathroom together,” Paris told him. “I’m going to start on the shower. You’re going to handle the toilet. I brought up some gloves for you to wear. You squirt that,” he continued, pointed toward a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner, “into the toilet bowl and let it sit for a few minutes. Then you use this,” he held up the scrub brush, “to scrub it out. There are directions on the bottle. After that, you’re going to disinfect the entire thing with a capful of bleach, and then regular disinfectant once you’ve done that, because that thing could use a bit more than just a basic scrubbing.”
Cue Chris’s whining, he thought to himself.
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 8:02 pm
He sputtered and stared at Paris as he passed him on the stairs, not knowing why, but reluctantly following after him. Chris knew this wasn't going to be a pretty sight, but if Paris was going to help, then he could at least try, right??
"Can't it just... Isn't there some kind of self cleaning toilet thing?" he whimpered, pouting at Paris as he handed him the scrub brush. Eventually he reached out to take it, but he had no idea what to do with it. He'd really not wanted to waste his time with it, but even he had to admit that it was pretty disgusting to deal with. "Ugh..." he whined, leaning up against the clean side of the counter and frowning at his boyfriend as if he was making him do something horrible.
Wanting to argue against Paris, he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped and closed it. Instead, he grumbled to himself as he took the gloves that had been brought up to him and begrudgingly pulled them on. This sucked... And while he was fully aware that it was his own problem and he should be thanking Paris for helping him out... he just didn't want to do it.
"Are you sure you don't want to go out and do something?" he wondered as he took the bottle Paris had motioned to and squirted some of the liquid into the bowl... and a bit more because it needed extra cleaning... and a bit more for good luck...
He really didn't want to have to do this... "Let it wait?" he asked, wanting to confirm what Paris had told him to do, before letting out a frustrated sigh and set the bottle back down so he could 'wait a few minutes'.
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 8:16 pm
“If we went out, your bathroom would never be clean, and then I would never want to use it, and then I would never come over, so you’re going to have to decide what’s more important to you,” Paris replied with a roll of his eyes, nodding at Chris’s request for direction.
While the toilet was being taken care of, Paris went about cleaning the shower—which wasn’t quite as gross, if only because no one had been defecating in it.
If he were really, truly honest with himself, he’d admit that he actually liked this. Not the fact that the place was a mess, or the fact that it was necessary to clean it, but the act of cleaning itself. It was familiar. It felt like home, like he was making this place his home again by doing the laundry and cleaning the kitchen and scrubbing down the bathroom, removing the months between then and now and turning it into something new.
As he scoured the dirty shower and ran the water to wash all the dirt and grime and buildup away, Paris wondered if feeling at home here so easily again was really such a good thing. He didn’t want to get too far ahead of himself and rush into the same situation they’d been in before. Moving in together hadn’t been the root cause, but it might have exacerbated the issue. They’d both been happy together, just not with parts of what that entailed—Chris wanting the space to grow, Paris wanting the chance to earn and contribute.
After they’d been at it for a while, Paris stepped out of the shower stall to see how Chris was coming along and asked, “Would it bother you if I said I wasn’t sure if me moving back in here was such a good idea?”
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 8:26 pm
Chris halfheartedly poked the scrub brush at the inside of the toilet, his face screwing up in disgust as he forced himself to at least try and clean it. He knew he should probably be using a bit more force in the scrubbing, but it was just... gross...
And it was his own fault, so with a sigh he got down on his knees to scrub at the inside edges with more conviction, grumbling to himself about how they should invent something to clean the toilets by themselves, or... something that wouldn't require him having to bother with it.
He glanced up as Paris spoke, pausing in his scrubbing only after a few more moments. "A little, but I understand..." he admitted, keeping his eyes down at the bowl. It had been his own fault for asking Paris to do something they hadn't really been ready for. After all that, he doubted that Paris would trust him not to eventually freak out again and throw him out on the streets once more... Not that his parents' house was 'on the streets' but it might as well have been, with the way he'd been acting.
"Besides, I just got used to you not being around as much," he joked lamely, trying to lighten up the mood and his bitterness towards himself. He'd been stupid before, so of course Paris wouldn't be able to forgive him so quickly and want to risk everything again. "Just as long as you come over to visit, though... I do get lonely sometimes..." he mumbled, more true to how he felt, but he was willing to do whatever he needed to make Paris feel comfortable.
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 8:48 pm
“I mean, I’ll stay over sometimes,” Paris allowed. “Maybe tonight, because you owe me after all this. But… I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to think about it.”
He wasn’t sure if he could say it was because he was ready or not ready. He thought he was. He’d been pretty sure he was before. There was, of course, that worry that Chris would change his mind again. An “I love you” didn’t always necessitate a couple living together, though he knew he missed it. Chris missed it, they both missed it—maybe for different reasons, maybe for the same ones—but until the uncertainty and the newness of it all wore off, Paris figured it was best to give it time and patience.
Once they’d had the opportunity to work on some things, once he’d had the chance to figure himself out—because he knew being together didn’t solve everything that was going on in his head—maybe things would be different and he’d feel more confidence in the decision.
Until then, he’d tried to handle this relationship the way he had when his dad had still been alive, when he’d spent enough nights here to require a toothbrush and a few changes of clothes but hadn’t imposed as much as he may have like.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, you know,” Paris made sure to tell him, turning back into the shower to finish up. “I do. A lot. It’s just that… I don’t know if it’s really responsible, or if we’d just be putting ourselves back into a situation that we’re just… I don’t want to say ‘ready for,’ because I definitely feel ready… but I don’t think we came into it with the right perspective before. Even though we wanted to do it, it sort of felt… forced, I guess… because of what was going on at the time.”
It was difficult, but for the moment he managed to keep his mind off of thoughts of his father. It wouldn’t last, of course. It never did. He didn’t expect it ever would.
“I don’t want it to be forced this time.”
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 9:37 pm
"That's fine. Really, Paris. Whatever you feel is best, I'm willing to do," he promised, looking over his shoulder to see how Paris was fairing in the shower, before ducking his head back down to continue scrubbing.
Okay, so this wasn't as difficult as he'd originally made it out to be, but... come on... It was gross and he was so not cut out for housework. He was much better off offering support and whatnot.
"I ******** up last time... I understand that... Hell, I wouldn't trust me, either," he admitted with a small, humorless laugh. "I can understand about it not being forced. I'd wanted to give you a place to stay I didn't even think about how it would affect everything. I mean... I didn't mean to do it to hurt you. It just... turned out I was a pathetic coward with nowhere to go."
He wondered if he was making any sense outside of his own head, or if Paris was completely lost to it all. He wanted Paris to be able to trust him again, he wanted to be worthy enough for his boyfriend to take another chance. But he also knew how complicated living together would be, since they'd already tried it before.
Spending a few nights was fine, but if it was permanent... well, that's just when things got messy. And he wasn't willing to mess things up again so quickly.
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Posted: Wed Jul 25, 2012 10:42 am
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Paris said from his place in the shower stall, his voice echoing a bit off the tile walls. “To be honest, I don’t really trust myself.”
It wasn’t that he thought himself impulsive. He liked to think things through as best as he could—not always the easiest thing, but in most cases he did try. He liked having the chance to figure out what he was getting himself into. He didn’t often make many plans, and when he did he felt no compelling need to follow them exactly, but as he’d grown older, as he’d spent time taking care of his father and cultivating a real relationship with his boyfriend, he’d learned some responsibility along the way.
More than anything, Paris was worried about becoming blinded by the fact that Chris had finally come around. He knew how he was. He knew how he tended to behave around people, especially those he cared for most. He didn’t want to become so far involved that he failed to notice other things beyond what he wanted to see—signs that things weren’t working out the way he wanted them to perhaps, or any indication that Chris might not be as comfortable as he should be if they wanted to keep moving forward together.
“I don’t think you’re a coward,” he reassured his boyfriend.
Paris exited the shower once he was done with it, crossing the bathroom to begin working on the sinks next, picking up a few towels to toss into a pile of dirty laundry along the way.
“It’s just how you decided to go about your independence, because let’s face it, Chris, you didn’t exactly handle that part of it well,” Paris said, motioning around the bathroom. It did pretty well in making that point for him on its own. “Just let me think about it for a little while. I want to do it right this time.”
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Posted: Wed Jul 25, 2012 10:52 am
Chris dropped the scrub brush into the toilet bowl, hoping he was done as he turned to watch Paris come out of the shower, nodding lightly. He wasn't going to fight him if he could help it. Hell, he thought Paris deserved a lot of time to just... not fight. He'd already been through a lot, and he'd handled it rather well, all things considering.
"Yeah, I can't say that was the highlight of my life," he said with a half-smile, half-grimace, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed casually over his chest. He'd more or less forced Paris's hand in their 'open relationship' deal, and he wasn't feeling too great about that.
After everything, he was surprised that Paris wasn't holding more over his head. Hell, after the things he'd said and done, he wouldn't have been surprised if he was paying for it for the rest of his life... or at least a good month or so.
"Take your time, Baby. I'll still be here... It's my turn to wait, right...?" he wondered, although this time he smiled lightly at the irony of... everything, basically. Paris deserved much more than this and what did he give him? Nothing... kicked him out and forced him to keep expecting something to change.
"Did you think I would decide to end everything...?" The subject shifted with his thoughts, as well as his expression, the smile replaced by a concerned frown. "I'm sorry it took so long..."
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Posted: Wed Jul 25, 2012 11:09 am
Paris shied away a bit at the change in topic. He didn’t really want to talk about it. It was something he’d tried not to think too much about when all that mess had been going on, and now that it was over he’d rather put the worry and fear far out of his mind. It wasn’t that easy, of course. If he expected anything to change, if he wanted things to get better, he’d have to talk about some things whether he wanted to or not.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, scrubbing at the dried out gunk in the sink. “Maybe… probably once or twice… or more. I didn’t really know what to think, so I just… tried to go on normally.”
Not the easiest thing to do under the circumstances, but he thought he’d managed—perhaps not as well as he could have without all the other stress factors involved but, hey, nothing was perfect. Relying on himself was something he was well used to by this point anyway. Paris certainly had no problem with independence.
But it was over now, he kept reminding himself. Paris knew how he felt, Chris knew how he felt, Paris knew how Chris felt, and Chris knew how Paris felt. Talking it through and moving on was important, but he didn’t think it was necessary at that very second. Paris would much rather do it once the cleaning was done and they could focus on it entirely, maybe curl up on the couch together and just… talk. They hadn’t really been able to do that in a while.
Rolling his eyes, Paris moved over to the toilet to remove the scrub brush and rinse it off, inspecting the toilet as he did so and deciding that it was passable for now. He may or may not come back around to it later to give it a little extra attention.
“You don’t just leave it in the toilet once you’re done, you know,” he informed his boyfriend, nudging him with one of his elbows as he passed. “I’ll finish up in here. Can you at least bring the laundry downstairs and put it by the washing machine. I’ll get to it once I’m done, and then maybe we can go out to eat, and… after that, we can talk…”
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