A/N: 3 AM...I have the divine right to a horrible one-shot yes-maybe? Enjoy. I don't own South Park.

"I can't sleep. Shut off the light." A voice mumbled, though it was muffled slightly against the strong shoulder of a rather rough looking man.

The light remained on.

Kyle's green eyes opened slowly, clearly irritated. "Tophe." he grumbled. "Shut off the light, please." he asked, stressing the last word out. The only reply he got was a grunt and a French curse word he knew too well.

"Non. If you want ze light off so bad, shut eet off yourself, Ky-el." Christophe finally spoke, pulling the nearly finished cigarette from his lips, letting out a lazy stream of smoke. His dark eyes moved to look down at the redhead who remained curled up to his side, it was clear by the look on Kyle's freckled face that he wanted to move away but still he made no movement to do such a thing.

"Tophe, I'm sleepy, I don't wanna move cause I'm...comfortable. Please, just turn the damn light off" The Jewish teen begged closing his eyes again. The Frenchmen grumbled around his cigarette.

"What? And you do not zink zat I am comfortable?" He countered, finally flicking the finished cancer stick away. Kyle huffed and pressed his head into his shoulder more. "I guess, but I really-"

Whatever Kyle had said was lost in the sound of a gunshot, and the room went dark. Christophe casually tucked his gun away.

Kyle stared into the darkness where he knew a shattered lightbulb was splayed on the floor.

"Goddamn you, Christophe." he whispered horsely, gritting his teeth when he felt chapped lips pressing against his forehead.

"Shut up and sleep now, ma ch ri."

A/N: Oh God bless it. This seemed funnier in my head.