A/N: The last chapter of It's a Sin is being written (I promise)... this has just been sitting around for a while.

They had no idea how the challenge had started. Christophe secretly put it down to sexual tension. Gregory claimed that Christophe was just being a defiant bastard as usual. It seemed that they both really wanted to be the winner, equally competitive and stubborn and hopeless to admit what they were truly after.

In actual fact, it had started with the passing comment by Christophe that Gregory looked nice that day, causing Gregory to immediately demand why the other boy didn't think he looked nice every day. Christophe had become exasperated and it soon escalated into an argument about which one was more attractive and which could kiss someone the fastest. They both naturally assumed they'd be kissing guys and didn't question what that said about them.

Sitting in their usual place behind the back of the school where no one dared disturb, Gregory ran a hand through his hair to check that it was all in place. Of course it was. He grinned arrogantly with his sparkling white teeth. "Tophe, let's not be ridiculous here. I could easily get any guy I wanted to kiss me."

Christophe smirked. He stretched, relieving tension, in a way that drew attention to his toned chest and arms, snugly fitted beneath a tight t-shirt. "I don't doubt zat, mon ami, but I could do eet first." He looked Gregory challengingly in the eyes. "I could even get a Mormon eef I wanted one."

"Like Gary?"

Christophe thought for a few moments and then nodded. "Oui, like 'im."

Gregory scoffed. "Why would you pick such a difficult person to get? Are you that confident in yourself?"

Well, 'oo do you pick?" grunted Christophe.

Gregory paused. "I-uh..." God, who could he think of that was halfway decent to kiss? He knew who he wanted to kiss, but kissing Christophe would ruin the competition and he didn't want to lose. "...Stan."

Christophe raised an eyebrow. "Stan? You mean your enemy Stan? You mean ze last person zat would kiss you Stan?"

Gregory couldn't take the impossible name back now. Shit. "...Yes."

"Oh well I think I've pretty much won zis one zen."

Gregory narrowed his eyes playfully, but rising up to the competition. "I disagree."

Handily, they found Stan and Gary sitting at a table on their own in the upstairs of the library. They were in a secluded area: the table hidden between two bookshelves. It provided suitable cover from other students and was far from the main desk; it was perfect. Stan had chosen to sit at the table to get some urgent work done, something that looked less likely to happen as the two mercenaries appeared in front of them.

Gary smiled brightly. "Hey guys!" As always he was happy to welcome and talk to anyone no matter who they were or what their intentions.

Christophe slipped into a seat next to the Mormon, a fake smile on his face. "'Ello Gary, 'ow are you?"

"I'm great thanks! How are you?"

"Very 'appy to see you," Christophe purred- not that he had much chance of Gary picking up the tone. Gary never picked up on people's tones. Christophe could make as many sarcastic comments about God as he wanted and Gary would agree thinking them genuine.

Gregory rolled his eyes and fell gracefully into the chair on the other side of Stan. "Hello, Stanley."

Stan sighed and looked up from his work. "What the fuck do you want, Greg?"

Oh how polite... "To see you of course."

Stan narrowed his eyes. "I'm not in the mood for any of your power games bullshit. I just want to study in peace, alright? So leave me the fuck alone."

Gregory was fast remembering why he hated Stan so much: the teen would never relent. He was just in one long bad mood about something that happened years and years previously. Granted, they had done a fair few things to wind each other up since then. Gregory smiled; his voice light. "I'm not playing power games."

"It's very clear you are." They both stopped talking a minute as they heard Christophe pay an uncharacteristic comment.

"Gary, I must say, your hair ees very lovely." Christophe moved his hand to lightly touch it. "And it's natural as well eesn't eet? You don't need products to make your 'air look good."

Gregory raised an eyebrow. Fine. Two could play at that game. "I hate you, Stan but I like your hair, because it's properly kept. Do you use shampoo?" He tried not to worry about the bluntness; he would work on trying to sound softer.

Stan glared at the hate comment but a look of confusion passed over his face. "Doesn't everyone use shampoo?"

Gregory smirked. "Not Christophe; his hair is dirty and scruffy." Gregory failed to mention how much Christophe's hair turned him on. He knew that it was washed and the fact Christophe liked to wear it scruffy was sexier than anything else.

Christophe growled, clenching his fists. "Gregory fails to see that beauty ees not just skin deep."

"I wouldn't be able to find any beauty in you even if I cut up your bones," spat Gregory, "which I could do, by the way." The first part was definitely not true, the second part, according to Gregory, was.

"Non."

"Yes. I could kill you right now."

"Gregory, you are meant to 'ate Stan, not me." Christophe grinned maliciously. "Don't you remember 'ow you 'ate Stan? Kill 'im instead."

So what? Christophe was willing to encourage murder in order to win? "Hmmm." Gregory turned his attention back to Stan with a flirtatious smile. "How could I hate such an attractive person?" Easily was the answer. He could easily hate such an attractive person.

"What the fuck is going on here?" demanded Stan going red. His whole attitude was one of discomfort, partly due to the weird way Gregory was acting, partly due to Christophe's killing comment. "What the fuck are you up to, Gregory, and why does it involve me?" Stan ground his teeth. "I haven't done anything wrong this time; I just want to study in peace."

Christophe smiled at this, rubbing Gregory's back in a fake condoling way. "Oh mon ami, admit zat you peeked a loser."

Gregory was trying hard not to break his smile, even though he wanted nothing more than to start arguing with Stan and forget he was meant to be flirting. He shook Christophe's hand off his back, before he could get flustered. "I just want to ask you something..."

Stan glared. "What?"

Gregory glanced down. "What are you studying?"

Stan looked hesitant. "... American History."

Gregory grinned. "I could teach you something about British history." He graced his fingers along Stan's textbook. "You see, in medieval times we used to have jousting competitions. These were done with long lances." Gregory paused to emphasise his next point. "I have a very long lance, Stanley," he purred. "If you let me, I'm sure you and I could have a lot of fun jousting." He drew his face closer to Stan's, grinning, nose almost touching the other's face, who was leaning as far back in his chair as he could. "What do you say?"

Stan's breath was so shaky that he couldn't say anything in those seconds. He just gulped.

Christophe sniggered. "'Is lance ees also very thin. Not good friction. I on ze ozer 'and." He turned to Gary, raising an eyebrow. "'Av very good friction."

Gregory scoffed, turning away from Stan to face Christophe, but still practically on the black-haired boy's lap. "And no experience with how to use it."

"Zat's because I'm not a leetle blond whore!"

Gregory gasped. "I am taller than you!"

"I love 'ow you don't deny zat you're a whore!" sniggered Christophe.

Stan coughed. "Uh- we're in a library so keep it down." He tried to push Gregory away but the blond had steel like determination to stay put. "I think you should leave." He grew angry when Gregory just continued staring lustfully into his eyes. "I mean it," growled Stan clenching his fists. "Get the fuck away."

Gregory leaned forward, their lips almost touching. "After just one kiss." He groaned as Stan's fist made contact with the side of his face, throwing him backwards. He hissed away the pain. "Ohhh Stanny likes it rough," he spat. Curling his lips into a sadistic smile he added: "I can play rough."

Christophe laughed and tried to use it to his advantage with Gary, though he didn't try very hard. He'd already realised that Gregory was taking the competition a lot more seriously than he was. "I would never 'urt you like zat, Gary. I'd be a gentle kisser."

"I'm sure you would, Christophe! And I'm sure it would be great fun, but I have to refuse." Gary grinned. "I know who really wants to kiss you." He turned their attention back to Gregory, who was at that moment smashing into Stan's nose with his fist, sending them both falling to the floor in a rage and a crash of chairs. Confusing your enemy by suddenly hitting on him in the middle of a library with witnesses was never going to work. Gregory succeeded in getting the dominant position as they fell, and held down Stan's wrists with furious determination to win, but win at what he was no longer sure.

"Eet was a bad idea to bring zem togezer wasn't eet?" commented Christophe.

"I wouldn't say a bad idea!" chimed Gary. "It's just... not a very good one. Why do you want to kiss us anyway?"

"Mon ami, I cannot remember ze point of ze competition now just zat Gregory never stops until 'e's won."

Gary was looking over Stan and Gregory with curiosity. "Stan's been blushing for a while," he whispered. "It seems to suggest that Gregory may win after all."

Christophe's eyes hurriedly flicked to observe the scene on the floor. Gregory had stopped punching Stan, their faces now inches apart. They were panting heavily and gazing into each other's eyes. Christophe could only see the emotions on Stan's face: fear, anger and distinct hint of lust. Damn Marsh for getting turned on. Christophe growled and moved behind Gregory, wrapping arms around waist and pulling him up, ignoring the kicks of protest. He glared at Stan. "Back ze fuck away, Marsh, 'e's mine." He wasn't going to let another guy infect Gregory's perfect lips.

Gregory span around, Christophe's hands still holding tightly to his waist. "You interfered!" He narrowed his eyes. "I would have won. Why the fuck did you do that?" Gregory fell silent as Christophe slammed their lips together in reply, pushing him back against the library wall; it was a wonder no one had come to check on the commotion yet. Gregory gasped and laced his fingers through Christophe's hair, kissing back with glee. Stan and Gary were completely forgotten. Both Gregory and Christophe had what they wanted.

"I'm glad we got that sorted," purred Gregory. He smiled seductively at Christophe. "You know, Tophe. I could easily get any guy I wanted to have sex with me."

"I don't doubt zat, mon ami," began Christophe suggestively, "but I could do eet first."