Huh. Maybe he actually was straight.

Chris reads the Maltese Falcon, Treasure Island, and the Hobbit. He eats mostly Japanese food. He does pushups and situps and air squats until he's exhausted. He disappears sometimes with a bag full of sex toys. If Marlo seems uncomfortable with them sharing a bed, he stays overnight. 

He tries to keep an inch of distance when he's awake, and immediately melts into Chris once he falls asleep. 

He reads. He draws, mostly portraits — Faramir and Eowyn, his sister Alana, his girlfriend Melissa, his parents, Carlos and Lucas and Sam and other army friends, Joan of Arc, Alexander. He tries to draw Robin; he remembers the face well enough to know that everything he draws is wrong but not well enough to know how to fix it. 

In that case Chris will reserve his gay sex for the afternoons.

One day he pauses and looks at what Marlo is drawing. "Is that Robin?"

"I don't actually know her face well enough for this but it's trying to be." 

"Janet?"

"Hi!"

"The picture of Robin that was on my desk, please."

"Here you go! We in the Good Place strive to give you lots of reminders of the people you won't be able to see again for hundreds of years!"

"Thank you, Janet."

Robin has brown hair; she's pretty, in a generic sort of way, nothing that would make you blink twice if you saw her on the train. 

Now that it's in front of him he can see where he'd been wrong and fix it most of the way, anyway; after twenty more minutes it isn't perfect but it's much closer. 

He hands the drawing to Chris. 

"Thank you. I should have asked the robot for a way to hang it up."

"It's about the same size as the one of Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt, which I assume is not your favorite, we could take that down and use the frame." 

"If you wouldn't mind." As he's replacing it, he says, "I'd like to replace more of the paintings with your art."

"I like some of them but there are others that could definitely use replacing." Who thought the serenity prayer was a good idea? "Is there anything in particular you'd like me to draw?" 

"Things you'd like to look at."

"More portraits, then." The next one is Alexander, laughing with his head ducked and his shoulders curled forward, lovingly shaded. 

A knock on the door.

He puts the drawing down to answer it. "Hello, Michael." 

"Hello, Marlo! I'm going around talking to everyone to see how they're adjusting to the Good Place. Do you have a minute?"

"I do." He steps outside. 

Poof. They're in Michael's office. 

"If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to bring them up! I want to make your Good Place experience perfect."

"...would it be possible for there to be a church somewhere?" 

"Why would you need a church?"

"I don't strictly speaking need one, I'm aware that everything around me is already Heaven, but they're beautiful and I miss having a space that's meant to be treated as sacred." 

"Humans are so fascinating. What does 'sacred' mean? Does it mean staring off bored into space while thinking about the gluteal region of the woman in the next pew?"

"If the answer is no you can just tell me no." 

"Of course it's a yes, Marlo. Every aspect of the Good Place has been optimized down to the smallest atom for the complete and utter happiness of everyone here, but if you want a church, you shall have a church. Where do you want it?"

(He sounds utterly sincere.) 

...He is definitely going to feel guilty about this in twenty minutes. 

As a rule, he should not do things that he knows full well he'll feel guilty about in twenty minutes. 

"...can I know why there isn't one, at least?" 

"Of course, Marlo! Churches are a thing you go to on Earth that give you more points. They don't belong in the eternal bliss of the Good Place. You might as well say we should have a soup kitchen, or starving Rwandan orphans, or the ability to watch The Wire!"