Warning: slash, AU, cursing, fighting, bleeding, blood, ect.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Pairing: A lot, mainly Christophe/Kyle
Summary: This is what would've happened if Gregory and Christophe would have been able to stay in the South Park universe.
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"Freshmen at last," Craig sighed, leaning against the same bus stop sign for the last 15 years.
"Time does fly," Christophe nodded.
"Way to sound old, this early in the morning," the chirpy British accent past them.
"Stuff it, it's too early," never an early bird, Damien growled darkly.
The four best friends just stopped for a moment, before they all exchanged grins.
"Wow," Craig's monotonous voice was a contradiction to the smile on his face, "That wasn't a repeat of our lives up until this point."
"Oh please," Gregory snorted, "You make it sound like you've had a life up until this point."
"'Ey, at least eetz starteeng somewhere."
Then the bus pulled up, and the four friends got on board.
"Class, we have a new student in this class..."
Christophe really, really didn't care until Damian said, "Isn't that the Kosher boy?"
That got his attention, as he looked up, finding the bright red locks immediately and his breath was robbed from him.
"He's..."
"You know him?"
The black-haired male nodded, "He's from the war," he whispered, his heart racing and his mouth drying.
Crap, he hadn't felt like this since forever.
And then, emerald eyes met his, and -and- and...
Christophe really, really needed a smoke, and a forty-eight break from class to get rid of his issues.
"I'm Kyle Brofloski."
The voice was soft, but not monstrously deep like his, or Gregory's.
...And he might need an extra hour or so.
A/N: I may/may not continue this.