Photo Album [Chris]
A character exercise I did awhile back and never posted. I'm a dork.
Title: Photo Album - Chris
'Verse: The Effect
Rating: slash - soft, slash - implied
Pairing: Chris/Matt, Chris & Seth
"Christoph, you received a package in the mail today," Ethan informed him, pouring himself a cup of tea as the male stumbled bleary-eyed into the kitchen. "I believe it is from your sister."
The package was sitting on the table, wrapped neatly, taped perfectly. His name and address was written in precise handwriting, and clearly with a ruler or flat-edge of some sort as a guide. Chris tore it open messily.
"Hey! It's a photo album." He ran his fingers over the cover, his name embossed on the black leather. "I wonder where she got it from. I thought Mom had it." Musing it over, he flipped it open and laughed outright. Holding it up, he presented it to Ethan. "Look at me, in diapers. Wasn't I a sexy thing?"
Seth, entering then and sparing Ethan an answer, peered at the photo of baby Chris. "You were pretty cute," he admitted. "What happened?"
"You wound me." Chris put a hand over his heart.
Brooklyn, who had been sitting at the table with Keith, arguing over his choice of breakfast, stood up to look at the photos, and frowned and shook her head. "Your parents weren't very good photographers."
"Not everyone can remember to keep their fingers out of the lens," Chris said seriously. "Where's Graham? I want him to see this too. Graham!" Sitting down at the breakfast table, he motioned for everyone to crowd around, as Graham entered the dining room. "We're looking at some pictures, Graham, come see."
Graham sat on one side of him, Brooklyn on the other, and Keith next to her, while Seth and Ethan stood behind him, looking over his shoulder.
"I was born on November 8th," Chris began, attention-whoring as usual. "And don't forget that, I expect lots of presents. I was nearly eight pounds, I think. Born sometime in the afternoon."
"No wonder you sleep in so late," Seth said under his breath.
"Since I was the first child," Chris continued, ignoring him. "I was pampered." He flipped the page. Photos of dozens of relatives, all with the same dark hair and tanned features, were holding him proudly. "Little did they know what horror lay ahead for them. See all those toys? I think I broke every single one of them by the time I was one." He flipped the page.
"Oh, and that's my baptism," he said, poking a finger at a photo of him crying, held up by his godparents.
"You're Christian?" Keith asked.
"Nope. Catholic."
They stared at him, but he didn't seem to realize it. Or if he did, he ignored them. Keith's mouth was hanging open slightly, and Brooklyn was frowning at the very idea of baptism.
"Is that a teddy bear?" Seth asked, pointing to a photo of a baby Christopher crawling towards a brown lump. Chris shrugged sheepishly.
"Beans. My favorite bear. My mom kept trying to throw him out, but I prevailed."
"Beans?" Seth snorted.
"...Haven't I seen that in your closet?" Graham asked.
"No." Chris quickly turned the page.
"It's okay, Chris. Brook still has her bunny," Keith said with a grin. She smacked him on the shoulder. "What?! You do!"
Chris pretended he didn't hear him. "Then my stinky brothers were born." He flipped through the pages with the photos of him and his brothers much more quickly than he had of the ones of just him. "Then Manda." He paused to show them a photo of five-year-old-him holding her up, beaming proudly at the camera.
"Aww," Graham cooed.
He turned past pictures of birthdays and "first day of school". His expression was excited, as if he'd liked the prospect of learning. Actually, as he explained it, he had been looking forward to meeting other kids.
"Oh! And there's me when I was the Dread Pirate Roberts!" Chris thrusted a finger at a picture of him holding a plastic sword and wearing an eye patch. He grinned. "I pretended to be him for a month. I even got suspended for three days after declaring mutiny on all the teachers."
They all tried to keep from laughing, with various degrees of success.
"Then I was The Great Bambini." Pictures of Chris performing cheesy magic tricks (badly). "I tried to do the vanishing act with my sister. She was only... what, three? I hid her in an upstairs closet, and forgot about her. Were my parents pissed."
That seemed more like the Chris they knew.
"My dad decided the best thing for me was to join the Cub Scouts." Chris pointed to photos of him in a Cub Scout uniform. "It was actually pretty fun. I stayed with it until I was in eighth grade."
There was an astonishingly good photo of Chris in his cub scout uniform, standing in a field with some tents pitched far in the background. He had a faraway expression on his face, looking off panel. It was reminiscent of a last war, with Chris as the only brave survivor.
"Wow," Graham uttered.
"That's a nice photo," Ethan complimented.
"I look so good in uniform," Chris sighed.
They groaned.
There were a lot of photos with him in his various sports activities. The baseball team, Chris with his arm slung around one of his teammates. Chris sliding into home. Chris swinging the bat. Chris catching a flyball. The soccer team. Chris posed in the front, laying on his side on the ground. There were pictures of him scoring goals, or just running around the field with a concentrated look on his face. One of Chris yelling at the referree.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Seth murmured.
"Oh, I remember that game. Some guy almost kneed me in the balls. I had to protect my jewels, baby."
More pictures of Chris with the basketball and track teams, progressing throughout the years.
"You were really into sports," Keith observed.
"I was really into boys' locker rooms."
"Oh God," Brooklyn muttered.
"Just playing. Actually, I really did like sports. Mostly track and basketball. My freshman year, see here? I was on the JV basketball team." The team photo portrayed a cocky-looking Chris with his arm slung around another guy, as usual. This time, though, there were more photos of him with the same guy, sometimes with others, sometimes just the two of them.
"Who's he?" Graham asked curiously.
"Jamie Mason," Chris said shortly, and flipped the page.
The next pictures showed a clear gap of time, at least a year or two. Then there were photos of Chris in track again, though no more of basketball. The pictures showed him winning medals, looking confident and self-assured. Seth peered closely at the photos.
"...Did you shave your legs?"
"Yep. Made me more aerodynamic." He paused, looking at their expressions, which mingled between shocked and amused. "It was a phase!"
"You must've been a good runner," Graham said, smiling. "Do you still have all your medals?"
"Nah. Well, my mom has them. They're the only things she can show off about me. 'Look, my son was an athlete. He couldn't be gay, right?'"
They didn't answer, falling into an uncomfortable silence that Chris didn't notice.
There weren't just photos of him winning track meets or breaking records. There were also pictures of him winning art competitions. This was a hobby none of them had known about, and it surprised them greatly to see Chris holding up a drawing, looking bored, a ribbon being presented to him.
"You're such a good artist!" Graham exclaimed. "Why haven't you shown us any of your stuff?"
"Yes, really, Chris, I would love to see some of your work," Ethan told him.
Chris just shrugged. "I don't draw much anymore."
Then there were photos of his graduation. This took up many pages, as Chris had clearly been popular, and there were dozens of photos of him with various classmates. Chris pointed to one of him and an older male. "That was my first boyfriend, Matt. My mom hated him. Well, she would have liked him if he'd just been a friend, but..." He shrugged, grinning.
"Were you in love with him?" Graham asked.
He was startled by the question, and stared at Graham. "Uhh... I. Don't remember." He ignored the looks he received, turning the pages some more. The last photos in the album were of a wedding, and there were few at that. Chris was looking handsome and pissed in a tuxedo, standing with his brothers, who were both just as attractive, and his sister, who was equally pissed in a soft yellow and pink bridesmaid dress.
"My mom's second marriage," Chris explained tonelessly. He pointed to a photo of the entire 'family', drawing attention to a silver-haired man. "James Miller. My step-dad, and the biggest prick in the world. Me and Manda stopped visiting home after they got married. And that's the end of it, looks like."
He closed the photo album. A picture fluttered out, but only Seth noticed. He picked it up and studied it. A photo of Chris kissing the boyfriend he'd told them about. There was a sense of vulnerability that Seth had never seen before, and complete trusting for this man, Matt. He'd seen Chris kiss before, and he always dominated the kiss, made it into a weapon. This was a kiss, and Seth felt as though he'd seen something private. He slid it in his backpocket. He'd put it in the photo album later, when Chris wasn't looking.
Title: Photo Album - Chris
'Verse: The Effect
Rating: slash - soft, slash - implied
Pairing: Chris/Matt, Chris & Seth
"Christoph, you received a package in the mail today," Ethan informed him, pouring himself a cup of tea as the male stumbled bleary-eyed into the kitchen. "I believe it is from your sister."
The package was sitting on the table, wrapped neatly, taped perfectly. His name and address was written in precise handwriting, and clearly with a ruler or flat-edge of some sort as a guide. Chris tore it open messily.
"Hey! It's a photo album." He ran his fingers over the cover, his name embossed on the black leather. "I wonder where she got it from. I thought Mom had it." Musing it over, he flipped it open and laughed outright. Holding it up, he presented it to Ethan. "Look at me, in diapers. Wasn't I a sexy thing?"
Seth, entering then and sparing Ethan an answer, peered at the photo of baby Chris. "You were pretty cute," he admitted. "What happened?"
"You wound me." Chris put a hand over his heart.
Brooklyn, who had been sitting at the table with Keith, arguing over his choice of breakfast, stood up to look at the photos, and frowned and shook her head. "Your parents weren't very good photographers."
"Not everyone can remember to keep their fingers out of the lens," Chris said seriously. "Where's Graham? I want him to see this too. Graham!" Sitting down at the breakfast table, he motioned for everyone to crowd around, as Graham entered the dining room. "We're looking at some pictures, Graham, come see."
Graham sat on one side of him, Brooklyn on the other, and Keith next to her, while Seth and Ethan stood behind him, looking over his shoulder.
"I was born on November 8th," Chris began, attention-whoring as usual. "And don't forget that, I expect lots of presents. I was nearly eight pounds, I think. Born sometime in the afternoon."
"No wonder you sleep in so late," Seth said under his breath.
"Since I was the first child," Chris continued, ignoring him. "I was pampered." He flipped the page. Photos of dozens of relatives, all with the same dark hair and tanned features, were holding him proudly. "Little did they know what horror lay ahead for them. See all those toys? I think I broke every single one of them by the time I was one." He flipped the page.
"Oh, and that's my baptism," he said, poking a finger at a photo of him crying, held up by his godparents.
"You're Christian?" Keith asked.
"Nope. Catholic."
They stared at him, but he didn't seem to realize it. Or if he did, he ignored them. Keith's mouth was hanging open slightly, and Brooklyn was frowning at the very idea of baptism.
"Is that a teddy bear?" Seth asked, pointing to a photo of a baby Christopher crawling towards a brown lump. Chris shrugged sheepishly.
"Beans. My favorite bear. My mom kept trying to throw him out, but I prevailed."
"Beans?" Seth snorted.
"...Haven't I seen that in your closet?" Graham asked.
"No." Chris quickly turned the page.
"It's okay, Chris. Brook still has her bunny," Keith said with a grin. She smacked him on the shoulder. "What?! You do!"
Chris pretended he didn't hear him. "Then my stinky brothers were born." He flipped through the pages with the photos of him and his brothers much more quickly than he had of the ones of just him. "Then Manda." He paused to show them a photo of five-year-old-him holding her up, beaming proudly at the camera.
"Aww," Graham cooed.
He turned past pictures of birthdays and "first day of school". His expression was excited, as if he'd liked the prospect of learning. Actually, as he explained it, he had been looking forward to meeting other kids.
"Oh! And there's me when I was the Dread Pirate Roberts!" Chris thrusted a finger at a picture of him holding a plastic sword and wearing an eye patch. He grinned. "I pretended to be him for a month. I even got suspended for three days after declaring mutiny on all the teachers."
They all tried to keep from laughing, with various degrees of success.
"Then I was The Great Bambini." Pictures of Chris performing cheesy magic tricks (badly). "I tried to do the vanishing act with my sister. She was only... what, three? I hid her in an upstairs closet, and forgot about her. Were my parents pissed."
That seemed more like the Chris they knew.
"My dad decided the best thing for me was to join the Cub Scouts." Chris pointed to photos of him in a Cub Scout uniform. "It was actually pretty fun. I stayed with it until I was in eighth grade."
There was an astonishingly good photo of Chris in his cub scout uniform, standing in a field with some tents pitched far in the background. He had a faraway expression on his face, looking off panel. It was reminiscent of a last war, with Chris as the only brave survivor.
"Wow," Graham uttered.
"That's a nice photo," Ethan complimented.
"I look so good in uniform," Chris sighed.
They groaned.
There were a lot of photos with him in his various sports activities. The baseball team, Chris with his arm slung around one of his teammates. Chris sliding into home. Chris swinging the bat. Chris catching a flyball. The soccer team. Chris posed in the front, laying on his side on the ground. There were pictures of him scoring goals, or just running around the field with a concentrated look on his face. One of Chris yelling at the referree.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Seth murmured.
"Oh, I remember that game. Some guy almost kneed me in the balls. I had to protect my jewels, baby."
More pictures of Chris with the basketball and track teams, progressing throughout the years.
"You were really into sports," Keith observed.
"I was really into boys' locker rooms."
"Oh God," Brooklyn muttered.
"Just playing. Actually, I really did like sports. Mostly track and basketball. My freshman year, see here? I was on the JV basketball team." The team photo portrayed a cocky-looking Chris with his arm slung around another guy, as usual. This time, though, there were more photos of him with the same guy, sometimes with others, sometimes just the two of them.
"Who's he?" Graham asked curiously.
"Jamie Mason," Chris said shortly, and flipped the page.
The next pictures showed a clear gap of time, at least a year or two. Then there were photos of Chris in track again, though no more of basketball. The pictures showed him winning medals, looking confident and self-assured. Seth peered closely at the photos.
"...Did you shave your legs?"
"Yep. Made me more aerodynamic." He paused, looking at their expressions, which mingled between shocked and amused. "It was a phase!"
"You must've been a good runner," Graham said, smiling. "Do you still have all your medals?"
"Nah. Well, my mom has them. They're the only things she can show off about me. 'Look, my son was an athlete. He couldn't be gay, right?'"
They didn't answer, falling into an uncomfortable silence that Chris didn't notice.
There weren't just photos of him winning track meets or breaking records. There were also pictures of him winning art competitions. This was a hobby none of them had known about, and it surprised them greatly to see Chris holding up a drawing, looking bored, a ribbon being presented to him.
"You're such a good artist!" Graham exclaimed. "Why haven't you shown us any of your stuff?"
"Yes, really, Chris, I would love to see some of your work," Ethan told him.
Chris just shrugged. "I don't draw much anymore."
Then there were photos of his graduation. This took up many pages, as Chris had clearly been popular, and there were dozens of photos of him with various classmates. Chris pointed to one of him and an older male. "That was my first boyfriend, Matt. My mom hated him. Well, she would have liked him if he'd just been a friend, but..." He shrugged, grinning.
"Were you in love with him?" Graham asked.
He was startled by the question, and stared at Graham. "Uhh... I. Don't remember." He ignored the looks he received, turning the pages some more. The last photos in the album were of a wedding, and there were few at that. Chris was looking handsome and pissed in a tuxedo, standing with his brothers, who were both just as attractive, and his sister, who was equally pissed in a soft yellow and pink bridesmaid dress.
"My mom's second marriage," Chris explained tonelessly. He pointed to a photo of the entire 'family', drawing attention to a silver-haired man. "James Miller. My step-dad, and the biggest prick in the world. Me and Manda stopped visiting home after they got married. And that's the end of it, looks like."
He closed the photo album. A picture fluttered out, but only Seth noticed. He picked it up and studied it. A photo of Chris kissing the boyfriend he'd told them about. There was a sense of vulnerability that Seth had never seen before, and complete trusting for this man, Matt. He'd seen Chris kiss before, and he always dominated the kiss, made it into a weapon. This was a kiss, and Seth felt as though he'd seen something private. He slid it in his backpocket. He'd put it in the photo album later, when Chris wasn't looking.