A/N – This is for xXshy-LullabyXx 3
DISCLAIMER – If I owned South Park, do you really think I'd be writing fics for it? I'd be making these fics happen!
The bright, white moon's cast it's ghostly glow through the slightly open blue curtains of an eleven year old redhead, sitting quietly on his single bed with his legs crossed, reading a novel. He had his duvet draped around his petit shoulders, whilst one small hand held onto the sheet, the other hand was holding the book named 'The Wee Three Men'. Perched on his nose, stood thin black glasses, in front of his beautiful emerald eyes, he kept his gaze on the words of the book, ignoring any other sound or motion, especially from those of outside.
A small breeze rolled though the slightly open windows, making the curtains move just slightly. The wind carried the sound of grasshoppers and crickets, singing or chattering away, and the sound of crunching from boots walking across the frosted grass in the young Jew's garden.
Tap. Tap. Tap. There was a ten second gap between each tap. Eventually, Kyle folded the corner of the page he was reading and rested the book down onto his bed. He pushed the duvet off his body and crawled towards the window and pulled it fully open. The redhead cocked his head to one side as he saw none other than the French Mercenary who so happens to be in his dreams uninvitingly every night.
"Christophe, is that you?"
"Oui," The brunette boy dropped the small stone he held in his gloved hand and saluted the younger boy.
Kyle smiled an adorable grin and hugged his bare arms and shivered as a chilly breeze caught him. "Aren't you cold out there? You can come in if you want." The small boy turned away from the window. The Frenchmen smiled, the kid was so caring it was cute.
A couple of minutes later, the back door swung open, revealing a happy looking Jew. Christophe trotted into the warm kitchen, instantly smelling the pleasant left over odour of the large woman's delicious cooking. Kyle opened the fridge while the taller boy sat down at the table, obviously interested in his surroundings, despite the fact he was sat in the very house almost every night. The redhead pulled out a carton of milk and put it on the counter. He attempted to open the glass cabinets but found he was too short, Kyle crossed his skinny arms and huffed.
The Frenchman snorted. "You want 'elp getting ze cups out?"
Kyle scowled. "No, I'm fine." He pulled the chair from under the table and pushed it towards the cabinet and stepped onto it quickly. The Jew opened the cabinet, pulled out two mugs and a jar in one swift motion. He closed the cupboard and jumped off the chair, then sat on it. The young boy smirked and stuck his tongue out childishly at the older boy.
They sat at the table, quietly talking about nothing and everything while eating sugar-free chocolate chip cookies and milk.
"You do know that if my mom catches me out of bed talking to a stranger at," Kyle stopped talking and quickly glanced at the kitchen clock, "midnight, she'd probably lock me in my room and declare you as a rapist."
Christophe smirked as he took a bite of his cookie. "Oui, I know, your mozer is after all, a beetch." Kyle growled defensively, whereas the Mercenary smirked. "And besides, its nezer worried you before."
Kyle's cheeks burned a bright red as he reached for the last cookie, Christophe done the same, but their hands collided. Quick as a flash, both hands disappeared under the wooden table, their faces red with embarrassment. Kyle then looked up slowly, green eyes locking with brown ones. Christophe smirked and put half the cookie in his mouth and leant across the table batting his eyelashes. Kyle watched him under his long, dark lashes, and then slowly leant across the table towards the brunette. He smirked and opened his mouth to take a bite of the cookie, while his soft, pink lips met with French ones. It was a small peck that lasted about three seconds before they both broke away.
"You know Christophe; I like these nightly visits you pay me."
"Oui, I feel ze same way."