Pairings: Kyle/Christophe Kyle/Craig Babe/Wendy
Description: Two men on a string. One a friend who he had a fling, another a drug lord king.
Rating: Lots of swearing and references to sex. Can't handle it? Go read fluff.
Desclaimer: I would love to own South Park, I don't though. So, South Park is NOT made by me, it would be full of a lot more Kyle if it was =3 Plot is mine.
I usually put the numbers next to a sentence, or paragraph that could have a little more explanation on my part but doesn't need to interupt the story. So, when you're done reading, or if you're just dying to know, the bottom will link up with the number.
A review would motivate me to update faster!
WARNING: Contains bad language and really bad French. Forgive me D:
"Bull Christophe. There is no way Butters is straight." Gregory's mouth was gaped open, his soda- with a straw because he was just that dainty- long forgotten at the news.
"Oui, he iz." Christophe plucked the drink from his friend's hands and threw the straw over his shoulder, not really caring who it hit, which sounded like a man to drunk to care.
"Okay, how about Eric? He's straight right?"
The Frenchman took a swig and deciding it was unworthy of his attention, slipped it sly back into Gregory's nonmoving hands.
"He obzessez over world domination so much I don't believe hez ever looked at a woman or man."
"Kenny?"
The drink once more lay unnoticed to the liberal.
"He haz already slept wiz men and women. Non denying he iz bisexzual."
"How do you know all of this? I think you're just making shit up."
Gregory sipped his beverage, scrunching up his face with disgust he also came to the conclusion it was below him to drink it.
"Why make eet up?"
"To piss me off?"
Christophe just grunted in response and leaned against the older, wooden chair.
They were in a local hushed bar, suppose to be discussing their latest mission from overseas but instead got caught up in sexuality when the blonde brought up Babe and Wendy's recent out in the open relationship.
Stan and Wendy got over each other in elementary (1) and now the star football player was a bigger man-whore then Kenny, sleeping with any female that breathed and moved.
A tall, lean, young man strutted over to them and asked if they wanted anything else. Christophe pointed to a bottle of whiskey behind the polished counter almost directly in front of him. "Sure thing."
The owner was kind enough to let the local kids drink under his roof with only three rules; they had their own place to crash, didn't tell any adults, and always entered and exited out back.
"Anyways, here's the plans. Simple and easy. They just want a few pounds imported. Nothing to serious."
Christophe nodded and threw down a couple dollars to pay for his drinks, "End of ze week, I got zet. Get a hold of me if you got anyzhing new to tell me."
"Fuck you…" Craig grumbled, tossing the X-Box's controller to the ground in a fit of rage.
"Oh come on, play me again!" Kyle laughed heartedly and laid himself on his best friend's back, snuggling his face into his neck.
"You sound like we're having sex."
Brushing his lips against Craig's ear, the redhead flirtatiously mumbled, "Do me Tucker, do me!" while grabbing a fistful of his dark ebony hair.
"God damn you Broflovski (2), get off me." Kyle rolled off and flat onto his back and laughed again.
After Stan joined the football team and started to hang out with Token and Clyde, leaving Craig and Kyle alone in the dust, the two became good friends.
They were complete opposites but everything about the other complimented themselves; Kyle's strong beliefs and Craig's uncaring, logical attitude.
"Ike Moisha Broflovski (3), get the fuck out of my room!"
"What's wrong? Don't want me to see you getting all gay with your boy friend?"
Kyle picked up a pillow and launching it at his brother, who smoothly dodged it, screeched for him to get out once more.
"Fine! You bitch-"
"Ike! Watch your language!"
"Dinner's done by the way."
This time it was Craig's turn to laugh, who did so as wrapped his arms tightly around Kyle.
"Why aren't I your boyfriend again?"
"Because I prefer to just keep it at friends with benefits. Come on now, I'm starving. You can get your ass kicked by my awesome skills afterwards. You are staying the night, right?"
A cigarette lit and almost down to the but, was resting on Christophe's scabbed and cut lips.
It was pitch black and the air icy but he was forced to sit out in three feet of snow, waiting for his guy to drop the goods off.
The holey clothes weren't helping and neither was the fact he was almost out of Camels.
'Dépêchez-vous la baise (Translation: Hurry the fuck up) '
Finally a short, fat man waddled up to a wooden crate, filled with empty wine bottles to be recycled, and placed a duffle bag next to it and after wiping his brow with a yellow stained kerchief, was off again.
After a moment of reassurance, Christophe approached the bag and opened it, "Sheet!"
Craig and Kyle, both covered in sweat, were intertwined with each other when the unmistakable ringtone of Mrs. Tucker went off in the pair of black skinny jeans on the floor.
Growling slightly, Craig reached his long arm around Kyle and grabbed it in one swift move, and answered the phone.
"Yeah mom? No- I- No, I was going to- Okay! Fine. Yeah, you to."
"Your mom is calling you home and you're rushing off to obey."
"I'll stay if you ask me to, Broflovski. Ask me to stay and cuddle and fuck you all night and I will." He was pleading gently, wanting his best friend to be more than just that.
He fell for Kyle, and hard.
"No, that's alright. We can play on another night. Go home. Your mommy doesn't like you to be out to late."
"Oh, ha-ha." Flipping Kyle off and picking his clothes up off of the perfectly neat ground was nostalgic for the pair.
"See you at school."
"Yeah, bye."
"Gregory? Zhey fucked us over. Oui! The fucked us straight up zee ass.
"Non. I'm trying to find a place to 'ide."
Within two beeps the device was dead, and Christophe was without communication while two, or three, he couldn't see all them all that well, big men were following him quickly.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Why do you curse me god?'
Not more than a block away was an opportunity, hidden by a tall wooden fence and a good amount of snow, and knowing he was going to be chopped liver if he didn't take it, he prepared himself to dodge quickly.
And he successfully did, right into Kyle Broflovski's open window from Craig's quick departure.
"What the-"
"Shut zee fuck up if vous(you) know what is good for vous."
A shinny object flashed for a moment and before he knew what happened, Kyle had a barrel pointed square in the center of his forehead.
"Is that the Luger? Where on earth did you get that? How did you afford it is a better question!"
"Shut up!"
Kyle obliged but seemed relatively fascinated by the dark hand gun.
Looking out the window, focusing on the goonies obviously blindly following straight ahead, Christophe didn't really get much of a look at the kidnapee.
"Kyle?"
"Uhm, yes?"
Kyle's eyes sparkled a soft, innocent hazel (4), his skin no longer adorned with freckles, instead was almost porcelain perfect, and his hair settled in a messy heap of brushed out curls.
"You do not recognize me? I died in you armz and yet you do not recognize me? I've been going to zee school you reside at for a year now and you do not recognize me? Eet iz true zat I'm never zhere and am a grade ahead of you and-"
"Mole?" His brown hair was windblown, unkempt and looked much like it use to when they were kids. He was tall and muscular, with a nice healthy tan and his deep brown, nearly black eyes stared Kyle down.
"It iz actually Christophe." He lowered the gun and placing it back into its original place to show he wasn't going to blow the red heads brains out.
Kyle smiled at the reconnection to an old friend, but soon his face burned passionately when he realized he was bare naked from Craig underneath the blanket.
Sensing something was wrong, the Frenchman let his eyes drift to where the hazel ones lay.
There on the bluish-gray carpet was a pile of clothes thrown off in a rush.
"What are you doing in here, Mol-err Christophe? Shouldn't you be leaving right about now?"
"Are you naked, Kyle?"
Don't forget to vote on which couple you would rather see~!
(1) I HATE Stan and Wendy as a couple.
(2) Useless fact, Kyle's last name is spelled many different ways. If you spell it different that's your game. Please feel free to look it up on South Park wiki.
(3) Yes, Ike Moisha Broflovski is hisname given to him by the Broflovski's. Sexy, eh?
(4) NO. Kyle's eyes are NOT green. PLEASE feel free to look it up. Episode "Good Times With Weapons" shows Kyle with BROWN eyes.