Author's Note: After rewatching South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut, I fell in love with the idea of ChristophexKyle. A greater idea occurred to me: in keeping with the couplings in my finished fanfic "Bully," I would have them meet very covertly, hinting to the fact that when they had met during La Resistance, there had been an immediate attraction and perhaps much more, and when Christophe died in Kyle's arms he had promised him that they would be together forever. Many years later, Kyle discovers a love that Kenny harbors for him, and Christophe finds himself happy in the affections of a woman. Now adults set in careers and families, they still make an effort to keep to that promise despite their new loved ones (um, Brokeback much? Teehee). Christophe awakens something in Kyle that reduces the foul-mouthed, stubborn redhead, normally the dominant one in his relationship with Kenny, to a girlish beauty who revels in his infrequent but cherished private moments with the brash Frenchman. South Park and all characters (except Lillie, she's mine) do not belong to me, they are Matt and Trey's 100 percent. Enjoy, reviews much loved.
Vivere
by MT Yami
"Where'd you get all those scars, Tophe?"
Kyle Broflovski stepped out from the hotel room bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips. He ran a hand through his wet hair and examined a quickly forming hickey on his collarbone in the fogged mirror, grimacing.
"I told you never to leave marks, Kenny will notice." He sighed. "Anyway. I asked you a question."
Christophe looked up from the TV and shrugged. He took a cigarette from his lips, nearly burnt down to the filter, and flexed a heavily scarred bicep.
"Fucking guard dogs, zat eez why I 'ave zees scahrs."
"Aw man, that's a boring story." Kyle rubbed at the reddened patch of his skin, his nose wrinkled. "You should come up with something better to tell people."
The Frenchman looked at him sidelong, an amused smile playing at his lips. "Well, I 'ave a stohry about zis one time zat Gregohry and I were 'elping ze French gohvehrnment on a vehry covehrt meession, but I cannot tell you about eet fohr eet eez vehry secret."
Kyle rolled his eyes but didn't turn from the mirror. "Lame."
"What weel you tell Kenny about ze 'ickey?"
The slender redhead shrugged. "Beats me. He probably won't notice. Kenny doesn't pay attention to jack shit, especially when it comes to me. Besides, doesn't Lillie ever ask where you go late at night?" Kyle wouldn't ever like to cross Christophe's beloved but violent Spanish beauty. If the dark-haired man ever got himself caught, he was sure to find himself in a situation far worse than guard dogs.
Christophe shook his head, his chocolate bangs falling over his intense, dark-rimmed eyes. "She eez too busy at ze 'ospital late at night to even notice zat I am gone. She ahlso works at ze cloning place with Tehrrance sometimes, late ahlso."
"Dr. Mephesto's asshole kid? No way." Kyle's eyes widened, and he reached up to begin towel drying his mess of wild hair.
They were silent for a moment, the indiscriminate noise of the TV suddenly uncomfortably loud.
"'Ey, Kyle?"
He finally turned around then to look at Christophe, emerald green eyes questioning. Beads of moisture still clung to his fresh-from-the-shower curls, fiery red and damp against his pale, freckled cheeks.
"Yeah?"
Kyle was rendered speechless as the gruff Frenchman strode over to him quickly, placed a hand on his slim waist and pulled him close, his practiced tongue parting his lips. The towel about his hips fell away, forgotten.
When they paused to catch their breaths, Christophe pressed his forehead against Kyle's. They stood almost equal in height, but the scar-ridden boy dwarfed the little redhead by far in terms of bulk.
"I weel ahlways find time to be with you, Kyle. I swohre zis to you befohre I died, and Ze Mole does not go back on a promise. Zis eez a promise I weel keep to you fohr all etehrnity." Christophe kissed Kyle's dewy curls and closed his eyes.
"Viva La Resistance, mon cheri."