Christopher is a slut because he's desperate for someone to love him.

Maybe no one calls Christopher a slut – because generally only girls get to be sluts, for one, and to get a Viking to call anyone a slut would be quite an accomplishment, for two – but that's exactly what he is. If David weren't all ready in love with him, he'd sleep with Chris just to get him to stop sleeping around. Christopher doesn't drink nearly as much as everyone thinks that he does, but that wasn't the point to begin with. Christopher doesn't give a damn how much he drinks, only that everyone thinks he's drinking.

He's too fucking smart to act this goddamn stupid.


When he's drunk, Chris likes to serenade people with show tunes. He will deny this to his dying breath, but David knows the truth.


Christopher loves color. Maybe it's from all the Technicolor that slogged into his brain those years in front of the boob tube or all the brain cells it killed, but it doesn't matter what color it is, or how virulently bright, or how god awful it clashes with something else – he loves it. He painted his room rust orange. His furniture is moss and scarlet and goldenrod – not green, red, and yellow, Christopher informs Jalil in his best Queer Eye voice – and his bed is as big a mess, if not worse. At last check it was blue sheets, green and black quilted comforter, and twelve different pillows, including one with brown fringe and another with purple fur spots.

April says that Christopher got all the flamboyancy of a gay man with none of the good taste. David starts to hum "I Feel Pretty" under his breath and can't bring himself to regret it even when Christopher drunkenly belts it out later.


David pretends that Etain's first son doesn't have Christopher's eyes.

David knows Christopher pretends even harder, because Etain's next three children are all too dark and solid to be anything but dwarf.


David knows that there's a reason Christopher doesn't love him. It isn't because they're both men. It isn't about Senna or April or Etain or even Jalil. It isn't because there's anyone else. It isn't because David is depressed and Christopher gets suicidal and they both drink more than is good for them. It isn't because they're too stupid to see what's in front of their faces, to see the potential for love. It isn't because they don't trust each other. It isn't because there's a war, or because there's too much blood on their hands. It isn't because David doesn't love Christopher.

It's because Christopher is too damned selfish to love anyone but himself.