A/N: There may come a day when I write a popular pairing again, but it is not this day!

Smut. This contains smut. Now you can't say I didn't warn you this time!

If Stan had learned anything from the uncomfortable, awkward and highly embarrassing situation he had found himself in, with the blood rushing to his head and a sharp pain in his ankle, it was that he was not a superhero, and did not have the ability to see in the dark. He also learned that if you were going to climb up the tree outside your enemy's third floor bedroom window, after observing that he was in the game's room (because yes his enemy was that rich), then you should first know how the hell you were going to get down again.

He'd found the window locked and no way to get in. He'd cursed and started climbing down. He wasn't high up when he fell; he was actually fairly near the ground. Landing there would have been better. It may have resulted in a few scrapes and bumps, but it would not have resulted in his ankle getting caught between two branches, having nothing to grab hold of and falling until he was inevitably hanging upside down in the almost pitch-black, with no way to get himself free.

That was not a good scenario, because it meant he had to call for help, and who was around to help? Nobody but Gregory...

He was screwed, totally screwed.

Just as he was about to let the side of him that cried out for a warm bath and a soothing cup of camomile tea take over from the side that was not ready to admit defeat and would more happily swing there for the rest of his life, he heard someone coming out of Gregory's front door. He was hidden from view, Gregory's bedroom being on the side of the house. He listened closely and made out a French accent saying goodbye.

The door closed again and he knew he had few seconds to decide which he preferred: Christophe or Gregory? The decision was blindingly obvious.

"Uh, hello?" he called hesitantly, trying to hide the embarrassment in his voice but failing. "Anyone there?" The footsteps that had begun down the side-walk stopped and he heard a surprised grunt. He continued: "I need... help."

He waited and prayed that Christophe wasn't in one of his terrible moods where the world was dead to him and nobody got anything from him. He hoped that Christophe was in a helpful mood... or at least a curious one that he'd want to see who was calling for him.

"'Ello?"

"I'm around the side." Even though he was upside down, Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. This was just so humiliating. He couldn't see Christophe approach very well. His legs were in focus but it was too dark and dizzying to see his face. Stan could hear him laugh though.

"Marsh!" Christophe chuckled and stepped closer. "Ees zis some new internet craze I'm not aware of? Or are you just hanging out?" He laughed again.

Stan sighed. "Real... real funny, dude. I fell, okay, and please, I'd really appreciate some help."

"I can see zat. Oui, you're pretty much stuck until someone rescues you." Christophe smirked and pushed Stan lightly, making him just slightly swing.

Stan glared up, hoping Christophe could see. "Are you going to leave me here all night? Come on. Don't be a dick!"

"Maybe you could ask God for 'elp? See what use eet does."

"Come on, dude!"

Christophe smirked and leant against the tree, lighting a cigarette. It was clear he was planning on having some fun before he either helped Stan or left. Stan supposed he shouldn't have expected any less.

"I see no reason to save you. I 'ear nothing but bad about you from Gregory, and I find eet a leetle suspicious zat you are hanging upside down from a tree outside 'is house."

Stan looked at the ground and frowned. "I was trying to find some information I could use against him."

"You were planning on breaking eento ees room?"

"...Yes."

"Oh, Marsh, he'd 'av found you out een a matter of minutes. You idiot!"

"Well I'm fed up of him always having something over me, always winning our arguments!" Stan hated how a rivalry that had sparked at such a young age had only intensified over the years and Gregory had become a truly fearsome one to have, but Stan couldn't get out of it, and he could never win. Gregory was slowly destroying all his confidence and determination, with actions as simple as a small comment or an intimidating smirk. His girlfriend had been stolen from him, his winning track record beaten. He was losing everything.

It wasn't just Gregory. His home life was less than perfect. After a year of them being apart, he realised his parents were broken up for good. Not having to be subject to heated arguments was a positive, but facing his mom's new boyfriends and his dad's stupid ways of 'staying young' was not. He had Kyle to tell all this to, and he did, but he couldn't curl up with Kyle, couldn't hold him close.

He couldn't do that with anyone.

Christophe stood in front of him, crouching down until he met Stan's eye level, his face now viewable, smoke blowing from his mouth. "Gregory 'as something over everyone, but 'e only uses eet eef you anger 'im."

"I think it's very clear we anger each other!" replied Stan in an annoyed tone. "He's an arrogant asshole." He stared heatedly into Christophe's eyes, which were shining a bright green, even in the dim light.

Christophe chuckled. "Oui."

"Are you going to get me down yet? I'm feeling faint."

Christophe sighed. "Okay, fine. So I don't get blamed eef a big dog attacks you or something. Keep still." Stan could feel a rustling as Christophe moved up into the tree to get a good view of the problem. He pulled on the branch which was obstructing Stan's freedom. Stan felt a tugging at his foot and something shifting. "Get ready. Get your arms out ready to catch yourself."

Stan panicked. "What? How? How do I -" And then with a grunt, he hit the floor, arms never tensing, hands only scraping the floor in a failed attempt to cushion the blow. Nothing stopped his head from hitting the hard ground and with a groan, he fell unconscious.

Stan groaned again as he awoke, groggily and in much confusion. He could smell smoke and a subtle but distinctly masculine scent, woody notes mixed with something else more sensual. He realised he was smelling Christophe and when he came to a little more he realised it was because he was lying on Christophe's bed, no coat, no shoes.

He blinked and pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing at the shoot of pain in his head and searching for the other boy. He found him sitting at the end of the bed, reading a book and smirking.

"You're awake," he stated without looking up.

"How did I -"

"I carried you," Christophe replied, shutting his book and dropping it to the floor. "You fell unconscious after 'itting your 'ead so I carried you 'ere. I didn't think you'd want 'elp from Gregory. Eet's luck my mozer's not home tonight." He narrowed his eyes. "Zis wouldn't 'av 'appened eef you'd listened to me. I told you to get ready!"

"You told me to catch myself!" Stan raised a hand to his head and winced again. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Eet means stop being a idiot and think for yourself!" Christophe shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I'm not a complete bastard. I could 'av left you zere een ze street. Eet's your own fault you got eento zat mess for spying on someone... my best friend in fact. I should tell all to 'im. I see no reason not to."

"Then why don't you?" muttered Stan. He pushed himself up and only then did he notice the bandage wrapped around his lower arm, and realised that his head felt almost freezing cold. He put his hand back to it and looked around, until his eyes met with Christophe holding up an ice pack from next to him on the bed.

"Does zis explain the coldness?"

Stan stared in confusion. "You - You used that on me? And you bandaged my arm?" he asked incredulously.

"Eet's not like I saved a dying baby, Marsh. I only spared you from a nasty swelling and small blood loss. Besides, ze bandages were as much to keep my sheets clean as zey were for you."

"But, dude, even so... that's really nice of you." He smiled. "Thank you. And thank you for getting me down in the first place. I wasn't looking forward to yelling for help from Gregory..."

"'E would 'av probably left you out zere all night and taken pictures. I think he'd see saving someone with so much stupidity a waste of his time." Christophe chuckled and grinned. "You're lucky I didn't 'av my phone on me. You did look very funny."

Stan found himself staring happily back at Christophe's grin. "I always thought I looked my best when I was hanging upside down?"

"Non. I wouldn't recommend eet, zough I did get a good view of your ass."

Stan blushed slightly but joked back, "What a nice treat for you."

"Ah, oui." Christophe raised his eyebrow and slowly reached his arm forward to brush the side of Stan's behind. Instead of stopping it, Stan laughed and flipped over onto his stomach. He knew Christophe was trying to make him embarrassed and so resolved that he would have the last laugh.

"Go on then, feel it if you want to." Stan closed his eyes and rested his head on his arms. "I won't stop you." He expected for Christophe to make a noise of repulsion, call him a faggot and push him to the floor. What he got instead was a jolt as Christophe's hand rested on the back of his thigh, before running smoothly up his ass.

Stan's gasp had obviously entertained Christophe. "You asked for eet." He squeezed one of Stan's ass cheeks firmly and then patted the other before retracting his hand. "I never back down from a challenge, Marsh."

Stan knew that he should have quit at that moment, saved himself from all the embarrassment and confusing feelings that would ultimately take over his head. However he didn't because all he could think was that he could not let Christophe win, that having both Christophe and Gregory triumphing over him would be too much. Maybe some of his hatred for Gregory spurred his actions; it was certainly what he put the feelings in his stomach down to.

"Surely you'd get a better feel if my pants weren't in the way?" He asked it as calmly as he could though he felt his stomach flip once, knowing he didn't want to anger of offend Christophe in any way.

"I would, oui," replied Christophe.

Stan waited in silence for a few seconds, and then, concluding that Christophe wasn't going to do anything, began to turn over, fake a laugh and then go home. However in the second he decided this, he felt Christophe's hands once again touch his body.

He went stiff. This wasn't like before. The French boy's hands were sliding along his sides, moving down from the waist and very slowly creeping underneath him along his belt line.

"Dude!" Stan arched up a little to push himself into a sitting position, but Christophe pushed him back down with a chuckle and slowly undid his belt. His fingers next went for Stan's pant buttons, who was momentarily too stunned to say or do anything.

"I am just undoing so I can pull zem down," Christophe explained. "So I can get a better feel as requested."

Stan blushed and stuttered, "I-It wasn't a request."

"Ah, zen eet was a challenge." Christophe slipped down Stan's pants slightly, just low enough that they no longer protected his ass. Stan gasped again and cursed. It was plain to see he wasn't wearing boxers and this left his bare ass exposed to Christophe's eyes. He was so embarrassed but also not wanting to lose the strange challenge between them, he did not back down.

"The washing machine's broken," he muttered. "I don't usually... free ball." Stan could sense that Christophe was smirking, or grinning widely. He had to be amused whatever it was, with Stan in a vulnerable position and him being close to much more than was normal.

"I do," replied Christophe nonchalantly. "Eet's comfier."

Any reply Stan had to that comment was cut short as he felt Christophe's hands once again caress his ass. This time he noticed how warm they were. And though the palms felt calloused, the tips of his fingers were surprisingly smooth, almost enjoyable. Stan gasped at his own thoughts and did not permit them to stay around any longer. He'd had it; he knew he'd lost.

"You win! You win!" he said quickly, fidgeting. Christophe didn't take his hands away but instead pressed down harder.

"What do I win?" His tone was amused and it did help relax Stan a little. At least there wasn't any awkwardness in the air. It almost felt like Christophe did this regularly with people he rescued from trees...

"What do you win?" Stan rolled his eyes. "Dude, this is getting pretty gay."

"... I am gay." Christophe removed his hands and chuckled. "Couldn't you tell when I started talking about your ass?"

Stan was completely shocked by this declaration, Christophe never being someone he imagined that way. He already knew of someone else that was gay, someone who's heart just beat a fraction faster. "I thought you were joking!"

"Non. I really do like your ass. Eet's very toned, one of ze best I've seen." Christophe sounded completely natural and truthful, not bothered by talking about intimate areas or paying Stan such a strange compliment.

Stan laughed nervously. "Thank you. It's down to sports, I guess."

"Oui. I don't think eet ees your coach's first intention to train you up so zat you 'av a very fuckable ass, but eet's certainly a good side-effect."

Stan chuckled. "Anal sex doesn't rank very high on his agenda."

He raised his hips and pulled his pants back up before he turned over, trying to protect at least some of his decency. He tried not to dwell on the fact he'd just let a guy squeeze his ass... especially a gay guy... a gay guy he hardly knew... a gay guy he hardly knew who was best friends with his enemy. What did that say about him? And was it that Christophe only did this to laugh with Gregory about it later?

Stan felt a twinge of hatred at that. However then he remembered how this had begun: Christophe saving him from the tree, carrying him and cleaning him up. That didn't sound like a cruel person.

When Stan turned over he felt two things which almost equally shocked him and sent his face into a bright red hue he didn't think would ever leave. Christophe's appearance was what brought these feelings; his face was close and his eyes shockingly green, burning bright and contrasting with the faint pink stretching across his cheeks. Stan's stomach flipped once more and with a horrified gasp, he felt his pants tighten, noticing that the erection must have been building previously - How had he not noticed?

Stan gasped and looked down, biting his lip. There was no use to try hiding it with his face on fire and Christophe practically close enough to feel it. He turned away as he felt Christophe's eyes flicking down as well and did not move until he felt this boy's fingers brushing against one of his cheeks, turning his face slowly back. When they locked eyes again it was with one shared thought.

Christophe pressed his lips against Stan's and kissed forcefully, moving his hands from Stan's cheeks to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the hair and pulling gently but urgently to get Stan's lips to reciprocate. Stan kissed back just as urgently, hands reaching to grab Christophe's shoulders.

He gasped when they drew apart and stared at each other again. He licked his lips and blushed. It must have fuelled something inside Christophe again for their lips pushed back together and the French boy groaned. Stan repeated the sound, and when Christophe's tongue tried to push his mouth open he let it, pushing back on it.

Every time they drew apart and looked at each other, they saw their eyes were reflecting the same feelings of shock and lust. Neither could deny the hunger they felt, though their bodies seemed caught between stopping and proceeding. It was why Stan's arms shook but his hands gripped tighter, his lips would pull from Christophe's and then slam back harder. And when Christophe finally pushed him back and pinned him down, he found that he'd been desperately awaiting it.

Christophe was gorgeous; Stan always knew that. It wasn't just his eyes that lit up his face, it was every feature on that tanned skin. Even in artificial light it seemed to hit the right points, make it strongly glow. Christophe's lips were pink and wet from kissing and Stan groaned as he pulled them towards himself again, biting down lightly on one before he could stop.

He felt Christophe's body press against his and he felt the reaction in both of their pants. It was clearly not just him who has feeling it; Christophe also felt quite far on. He knew in that moment what was going to happen and saw that backing out wasn't an option... because he didn't want to.

Stan panted and arched his hips up, pressing against Christophe and circling once in a grinding motion. He could tell Christophe had picked up on all the signs and change of atmosphere in the room, grinding back with a spark in his eye. Stan shivered because he didn't trust that spark, and not trusting it made him all the more excited.

He lifted his arms when Christophe pulled at his shirt and willingly allowed it to be taken off him. Christophe's lips fell onto his skin, kissing gently over his chest, they were soft and the slowly increasing pressure of them matched Stan's slowly increasing desperation, like they were both building together towards something mentioned in joking but now so real. All the while, Christophe continued the grinding movement.

Stan groaned when Christophe's tongue darted to lick his nipple. He never imagined the sensation to be as pleasurable as it was, the sensation still mixing with shock at every new movement Christophe made, every inch of skin the tongue discovered seemed to be waiting for him. Stan wanted the same. He wanted to explore Christophe's chest.

He pulled at the hem of Christophe's shirt and started yanking the material upwards to reveal skin, not caring how it was impossible for it to go over Christophe's head that moment.

"Christophe, p-please." He realised these were the first words he'd said since their lips locked and he wasn't surprised to hear they'd be spoken shakily, breathlessly and with a high measure of desperation.

Christophe smirked and sat back, straddling Stan's waist. He pulled away his t-shirt and gazed down at him. Stan was too busy hungrily trailing his eyes over Christophe's chest to look him in the eyes back. The first thing he noticed was the immense fitness levels the boy must have, because he couldn't see an inch which wasn't either flat or held a strong, smooth muscle. He was almost convinced he'd hear a musical sound if he ran his fingers down Christophe's abs. He noticed two old scars, one running along Christophe's right hip, the other by the top of his shoulder. He also had some fresh-looking bruises on his chest and scratches on his arm.

Stan licked his lips and drew his head forward to kiss the tanned skin. He smiled as he did so, feeling Christophe's hands running through his hair and then down his shoulder blades. He kissed harder, tasting the skin... men's skin. He was kissing and licking a man's chest. It was finally happening - confirmation of his homosexuality.

He groaned and kissed harder.

"Just..." muttered Christophe breathlessly, pinning Stan's arms behind his head and pushing him back down flat against the bed. He cut the rest of his speech with another fierce kiss. He pushed his tongue against Stan's and groaned, not leaving it long before he pulled on Stan's bottom lip with his teeth, growling. "I want you now."

Stan groaned into Christophe's mouth at the words before speaking, kissing it with great need. "H-Have you done this before?"

"Oui." Christophe moved his arms and stroked Stan's waist. "Both ways so I know what I'm doing." He sucked on Stan's neck again.

Stan was relieved, in capable hands, so he groaned and agreed, tilting his neck back. "G-Good then. Let's do this."

"D'accord." Christophe smirked and trailed his hand down, rubbing Stan through his jeans. This motion sent a shockwave down Stan's spine and an uncontrollable desperation for things to hurry up. He slipped his own hands down the back of Christophe's pants, using the moment to feel his behind. He wasn't surprised to find it was tight and felt very toned. He squeezed it until Christophe pulled back, taking Stan's pants with him. They came all the way down that time and were thrown to the floor, along with Christophe's.

Stan licked his lips and sat up a moment to take in Christophe's naked form. He was toned, incredibly so. His thighs were strong and the area between almost made Stan's mouth water. He'd seen plenty of other male's parts, even in a sexual nature when he indulged in watching porn. However he'd never seen one knowing that he could touch it and knowing that it was going to be pleasuring him. It was such a bizarre thought, especially since it definitely wasn't disappointing.

Christophe smirked. "You like eet, Marsh."

Stan blushed. "Mmmm. Yes." He reached his hand forward and ran it down Christophe's chest teasingly, all the way down his stomach and then stopping before he reached the crotch. Christophe bared his teeth and once again pinned Stan down, grinding, this time with nothing between them.

"I'm going to use eet to fuck you."

Stan groaned and ran his hands along Christophe's shoulders. "P-Please do."

Christophe dipped his head, running his teeth over Stan's neck and then attacking it in a kiss that turned into a suck. Stan felt so much pleasure in this one area. He shuddered and continued stroking over the toned hot skin above him until Christophe was satisfied and it would be bound to leave a mark.

When Christophe drew back, Stan felt a twinge of nerves. "I - uh - be careful now. I'm not a virgin but I haven't..." He trailed off.

Christophe looked into Stan's eyes and smiled knowingly. "Say no more." He winked and stroked one of Stan's thighs, squeezing the skin when he got closer to the balls, and then letting go. "You're een good 'ands."

Stan blushed. "I know I am." He watched as Christophe reached under his bed and came back up with a bottle of lube - half-empty. He bit his lip at what this meant; he was having gay sex with someone who obviously knew what he was doing, someone who obviously had other options - whoever they were - and other encounters. It made him wonder why Christophe would want to give him any time at all - they clearly weren't in the same league.

He shook the thoughts from his mind again and flipped onto his stomach. This was about sex. Pure feelings of lust and the chance for a thoughtless fuck. He was a guy - a guy who needed to stop thinking like a girl.

Stan's mind slipped back to what was happening in the room when he felt Christophe's hands stroking his behind. He looked over his shoulder and blushed as he saw Christophe's fingers were shining wet.

"Are you ready?"

Stan shifted closer, supporting himself on his knees, allowing Christophe to guide his positioning. He ended up with his ass slightly higher than his head, his hands clutching a pillow. He used his elbows to stay propped up.

"Y-Yeah?"

"You need to relax." Christophe stroked Stan's back with his uncovered hand. "Take a deep breath. Christophe will make zis feel good."

Hearing the confidence in Christophe's voice, Stan took a deep breath and allowed his muscles to lose their tension. It was surprisingly easy with one of Christophe's warm hands massaging slowly over his shoulder. He hardly noticed the other hands slipping down his ass and between the crack, slowly tracing over his entrance.

He gasped as a finger gradually pushed inside him, stopping before it was in the whole way, and then starting again. His muscles automatically wanted to tense around it. Stop, that's the wrong way. What are you doing? He took another deep breath and bit his lip when the finger moved. There was a jolt of pain, but as it continued moving, slowly slipping out and then back in, Stan found an element of pleasure to it. This pleasure grew when Christophe introduced a second finger and began stretching him.

"God, damn, you're so tight." Christophe scissored his fingers slowly, causing Stan to groan.

"I-Is that bad? Will it be a problem?" He didn't want anything to get in their way, not when it was already feeling so good.

"Non, eet's no problem." Christophe moved his fingers faster, pushing further into Stan. He leant forward. "Eet's like you're a brand new toy ready to be played with." Stan could feel hot breath on the back of his neck which made him shiver. If he wasn't worried about causing himself pain he would have turned around and grabbed Christophe in another heated kiss. He couldn't even form a reply.

"Mmmnn," was all he could say. Christophe chuckled and pulled his fingers out. Tension filled the air and Stan heard the cap of the lube bottle open again. Christophe covered his member as much as he could and even ran some more around Stan's entrance to make the process as smooth and painless as possible. He positioned himself careful, pushing against Stan a few times without going inside, running a hand comfortingly down his back and then holding his hips.

Stan was so desperate, so ready. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment and he knew he had no chance of calming down until he got it.

He gasped at the moment when Christophe's member finally made its way inside him, very carefully but not stopping. It seemed to fill him and though his muscles and body were protesting, they were also providing tremors of pleasure which he knew had to intensify. The first groan that came from his mouth was a pained one but after that, they began transforming, as Christophe slowly moved, it became what he was waiting for.

Stan groaned loudly and pressed back. "F-Fuck!" He held the pillow in front of him tighter at each thrust of delight. Christophe's grunts came irregularly from behind him, so raw and sexual, never letting Stan forget exactly who he was having sex with. Christophe fucking DeLorne. He was pretty much anyone's fantasy guy, be they girl or boy. The female population was out of luck, but he apparently had a lot of it.

Unless this was all a dream and he was still lying unconscious outside Gregory's house.

Christophe's lips trailed over his shoulder and kissed the skin which had started to perspire. Each kiss seemed to burn, heating his skin past any level he thought it could go. Stan groaned. If it was a dream, he was going to enjoy it.

"Fuck, Stan, you feel so good." The pressure of the kisses increased and Stan felt his hips gripped tighter.

Stan just repeated, "Fuck," in reply, taking in ever movement.

He soon felt himself throbbing and knew that release wasn't long away. He couldn't hold out for long, not with this completely new and overwhelming sensation filling every part of him, not with Christophe being the one giving it to him. He was lucky he wasn't able to see Christophe because he knew that would have made him come within seconds, before they'd barely begun.

Christophe thrust harder, and with a small change in direction, hit a spot inside Stan which made him scream. It was a pleasure that burned through him, a delicious mix of shock and ecstasy delivered with the promise of later pain. But the pain didn't matter, Stan wanted to scream.

"Oh, shit, yes!" He closed his eyes and clawed at the pillow. "Right there!"

Christophe hit it again and groaned. Stan screamed even louder, knowing he couldn't take many of those before he lost it.

"Again!"

After a few more incredible thrusts, Christophe's hand closed around his member. Every feeling increased. Stan choked a loud groan. "Chris-tophe!" He felt Christophe's hand start to move and groaned again. To have such sensations in two places was more than his body could bear, and they both knew it.

Christophe's thrusts slowed as his hand movement increased, and with a choked sob of pleasure, Stan came over hand and sheets. All that stopped him from collapsing was Christophe gripping him fiercely around the hips again. He felt Christophe make a few more jerked movements, and then pull out of him. A deep and long moan signified that he was coming, this being backed up when Stan felt a warmth falling over his back.

"Marsh!" Christophe panted, still clutching him. "Fuck! You... damn."

"Mmnnn."

Christophe moved him across the bed and set him down, careful to avoid the soiled part of the sheets. Stan didn't expect him to think like that and was pleasantly surprised, even more so when he felt a soft material - a shirt - running over his back, cleaning him. He slowly turned around and looked at Christophe, taking in the flushed cheeks, ruffled hair, tired but satisfied eyes that would have made him hungry for more had it been physically possible. He kissed him a final time, slower than before, then pulled away and smiled.

"Wow." Christophe smiled back with every inch of his face - something Stan had never seen before. He found it almost hypnotising, still gazing as Christophe collapsed down on his bed, his head hitting a pillow.

Stan didn't know how to reply, or what to do. He just collapsed next to Christophe and stared at the ceiling, trying to get his bearings. "Yeah." It hit him that he had no idea what time it was. "What time is it?"

Christophe looked over at his alarm clock and chuckled. "Eet ees eleven." Stan was prepared to jump out of bed and scream that he was past his curfew when he felt Christophe put a hand on his arm. "I... don't think it's wise eef you walk anywhere tonight, wiz ze head and ankle... and ass... you won't get far..."

"Oh." Stan bit his lip. "What should I do?"

"...You should get some sleep." Christophe pulled the blankets up around them.

Stan's mind blanked, nothing remained but the thought of spending the night in Christophe's bed, sleeping next to him. Home really wasn't important to him. Being next to somebody, now that sounded nice. He remembered that his mom was spending the night at her boyfriend's house anyway, so she'd never know he didn't get home...

"Okay. If that's alright, I guess."

Christophe shrugged. "Makes no difference to me." He lay on his back and closed his eyes. His body seemed to be turned towards Stan, fitting what he would do, leaving a space. Stan bit his lip and edged just a little closer to Christophe. He sighed in relief when Christophe's arm wrapped lazily around his shoulder and closed his eyes. He was curling up next to warmth and just for a little while was able to forget.

And it actually felt quite nice.

The next morning Stan woke up to a mixture of feelings and sensations, not all of them that pleasant. First was the aching, in his head but more prominently in his ass. The bruising soreness momentarily went unexplained until the scent of someone else entered his nostrils, and then the feel of warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

He gasped and shot into a sitting position, immediately screaming in pain and falling back down again. "Godamnit!" he yelled. "That fucking hurts!"

Christophe grunted awake and shot up next to him, looking around with half-open eyes. "What? What ees eet?" He linked eyes with Stan and frowned, then looked down at where Stan's hands had shot and laughed. "Sore ass? I remember zat." He smiled sympathetically. "It will get better soon."

Stan blushed. "Good."

Christophe rubbed his eyes and leant to his bedside table in search of a cigarette. "Last night was fun."

"Yeah." Stan bit his lip. "You were good with me. And... thanks again for taking care of me... in both respects."

"Eet was my pleasure... literally."

Stan rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm gonna get dressed... yeah." He awkwardly slid out of the bed and slowly got up, wanting to stretch but not wanting to make any provocative movements, especially by sticking his ass in the air. He felt conscious of himself, wondering whether Christophe was watching him or not. The Frenchman had already seen everything, but for some reason Stan didn't want him seeing. He would notice the negatives more in the light, he was sure. And Stan knew that if he were to observe Christophe, he wouldn't see any.

He pulled his shirt and pants on quickly, but having to bend down slowly to get them - just more opportunity for Christophe to look at him.

When he was ready, he turned back to Christophe, who was still in bed, but sat up and lighting a cigarette.

"Your shirts on inside out," commented the French boy before taking a long drag.

Stan pulled it off quickly to sort it out, then frowned. "Wait, no it wasn't!" He looked at Christophe in confusion. Christophe just grinned back and trailed his eyes over Stan's chest.

"Oui, I know."

Stan blushed and quickly put it back on again. "I should - uh go."

"You can stay for breakfast," Christophe offered nonchalantly. "Eef eet's easier since we 'av school soon."

"I should go home, change my clothes..." Stan looked down at the ground. "Hope my mom didn't get home early."

"What will you tell her?"

"That I ended up crashing at a friend's." Stan rubbed the back of his neck. "And was too tired to call. Uh, it should work." He nodded. "Uh... bye then."

"See you round, Marsh," replied Christophe with a smile, but it was a smile that meant no more than friendship. Stan smiled back and left.

He was sure he'd been happy at the thought of it only being a one-night thing but the flipping in his stomach said otherwise. He frowned as he walked slowly down the pavement of the cold morning. Christophe was Gregory's best friend. He was not someone Stan should spend his time around. He was rude, violent, quick-tempered... passionate, hot, caring, soft to cuddle...

Shit.

A/N: Gosh, that was long. I hope you enjoyed it? There is the possibility (because it's me) that this could have more parts... but I'm not sure whether to pursue it as a story or not, so please tell me your highly important thoughts! :D Thank you!