((A/N – Howdy Ho everyone. Halloween is, by far, my favorite holiday, and October is, without a doubt, my favorite month. So I wrote this. And many other fics of many other pairings. Enjoy.))
Gregstophe – Sweets
"You know," Christophe muttered, his chin in his tan, dirty hands and his cigarette dangling from his chapped lips, "All the other kids are trick-or-treating."
And that was true. On this October day, all the other children were out and about, prancing around among the crisp leaves. However, these two boys were the opposite. Instead, Gregory and Christophe were among the tree that dropped its leaves, in their well-built tree house. That was usually how you'd find them on a school day. On the weekends, they would always go on "trips" with the DeLorne mother. In reality, they were out doing political and otherwise incredibly brutal things. Christophe's mother was okay with it, because she typically aided. But, that's a whole other story.
Gregory smiled from the other side of the tree house. Proudly, he said, "Yes, I know they are. I don't trick-or-treat."
The two nine-year-old boys looked at each other with opposite expressions. The French brunet gave Gregory a scowl of displeasure while the political blonde smiled to himself and gazed at Christophe with curiosity. Finally, he laughed, touching a gloved hand to his forehead. Composing a cocky smile, he said, "You wanted me to get you candy, didn't you?"
The young mercenary scowled harder, raising a middle finger to his friend. With his voice thick with French heritage, he hollered "No! I didn't want your stupid candy, bitch!"
"You're such a filthy liar!" the blonde laughed in a posh manner, touching his hand, gloved in black leather, to the back of his neck, "Just admit it."
Instead, Christophe took the notebook from beside him and threw it at his friend's head with a fierce scowl. Gregory dodged it swiftly, picking it up off of the wood it fell to and throwing it back. Quietly, the brunet growled, "Fuck you."
"If you want," the blonde in orange began, "I have, like, three bags of M&Ms and mini Hershey's. We can share, if you like."
A confused look came across Christophe's face, his eyebrow cocked up in inquiry. He asked, "Three bags of chocolate? What, were you planning on finishing that yourself?"
"Eventually," he smiled brightly, exposing his perfect, white teeth. With an airy laugh and a look of total maturity, he added, "So do you want some or not?"
"Yes go get it," Christophe hissed, his words slurred together into one exhale of command.
Sitting up from the empty crate he used as a chair, Gregory patted down the creases in his shirt and made a quick flee down the tree. The other boy scavenged around to find a magazine, flipping it open violently when he'd found the catalog for shovels. Soon, a loud holler for attention ripped through the air from outside the tree house. Irritated, the young Frenchman threw down his magazine and peaked his head out the torn fabric they used for a door. Gregory was standing at the bottom of the tree with three bags and a big bowl cradled in his arms, a bright smile plastered on his pale face. "Take the bowl," he called above the laughter of the other kids in the neighborhood.
Christophe reached down to be handed the bowl, when yet another call for him was made. "Hey, Chris," called a loud, boyish voice from behind the wooden fence to Gregory's backyard. Both the blonde and the brunet looked over, spotting three faces looking over the fence and to the two friends – a red-headed boy their age in a vampire costume with bright, green eyes, a noirette in a red and blue hat dressed up as a sissy doll with shiny, blue sapphires, and a chunky ghost-kid.
"Oh, hello Stan and friends," Gregory smiled welcomingly, waving a gloved hand, "Always nice to see La Resistance."
"Bonjour," Christophe deadpanned, waving his hand for the bowl with a grimace of impatience. Gregory frowned quickly and tossed him the bowl before looking back to his onlookers.
Stan was the first to speak up, inquiring, "Why aren't you guys dressed up?"
"I don't dress up for Halloween," the mature boys said in unison.
"But," Kyle frowned, "Everyone in fourth grade dressed up except you guys!"
"Too childish," Gregory sighed.
"Too stupid," Christophe spat.
Cartman couldn't help but let out a husky laugh and say, "You guys are such fags, not celebrating Halloween!" And with that, his clique left.
Gregory pulled himself up into the tree house, placing the bags of chocolate down on the table in the middle of the structure in the tree. Quickly, Christophe tore into the bag of mini Hershey bars, taking one into his hands and ripping it open with fascination. Gregory laughed at his friend, pouring the M&M's into the bowl calmly. In a friendly tone, he said, "Why haven't you ever celebrated Halloween in the past, anyway?"
He frowned. Why hadn't he? It was simply not in his agenda, nor in his mother's to eat candy on October 31st. Candy, itself, was a bit of a rarity in his house, and Gregory's too, what with his healthy habits. Christophe just shrugged in response, eating the tiny chocolate bar once he'd tossed his cigarette and stomped it down.
"Do you dislike it?" Gregory urged.
Christophe shook his head. As a matter of fact, he very much enjoyed sweets. But, they weren't often in his possession. Quietly, he said, "I just never took it into habit."
"You don't say!" The blonde said, taking a handful of M&M's, "What if, from now on, you and I celebrate it? We don't have to go out like the other kids, but we could put up Halloween lights in your room or something, and buy candy."
Finishing his chocolate, the brunet reached into his pocket and brought out another cigarette. Speaking as he lit it, he said, "Okay, as long as next year I get to choose the candy. And, no lights in my room."
"Oh c'mon!" he laughed, "They'd have fake cobwebs and it'd be spooky."
He grimaced.
"Okay. What if we put them in the tree house? You'll like them once you see them."
Taking another piece of chocolate, the brunet finally gave in and rolled his eyes. He said, "Fine, if you say so. I'll take your word on it, bitch."
Gregory lit up, excited for next year to come. Finally, he'd celebrate his favorite holiday with his favorite friend.