Disclaimer: I do not own, as if I would own something like South Park. Shudder It's to twisted for my imagination... but that doesn't mean I don't have fun playing with it. :D
Summary: Dumped by his girlfriend for her sixty year old professor Kyle returns to South Park to watch his best friend marry. There he meets said professors son and finds out that maybe being dumped for an old fart was not the worst thing to ever happen to him, but the best. Kyle/Christophe
Author Notes: Well after an extremely long hiatus I'm back in business! :D So yay! Hopefully I won't be away for very long.
This is the first chapter of a planned three chaptered fic. It may extend to five, or it may not. Who knows.
Le Jeu Adulte has been updated if anyone is currently reading that! :D
Also, Kyle of A Thousand Days is still on hiatus. I'm taking a gap year from uni so I will begin again. But yes, it will be done!
Finally, I'm looking for other peoples fan fiction to host on my website, if you're interested review or email me or PM me.
Me-Ladie
Part One
Kyle Broflovski stood on the edge of the peer, watching the smoke waft from his cigarette. It had been a long day, he'd broken up with his girlfriend of three years, and he'd gotten fired. However the highlight of his day was that Stan Marsh had gotten engaged to his long time off again on again slut of a girlfriend, and was marrying her in two weeks.
Kyle was pissed to say the least.
In both senses of the word.
He hadn't been to the peer since the day he moved to Chicago with Christina, she'd gotten a new job, he just followed her there. Like a lost puppy. He clung to her for those first few weeks, perhaps even shed a tear.
What a pussy I was, he thought to himself, chucking the half finished cigarette over the rail and into the deep blue water. As it disappeared into the darkness he turned and sighed, leaning against the freezing cold bar. He'd lived in Chicago for nearly a year and it was the first night he'd ever spend in a hotel. In the morning he'd call his mother to tell her he was coming home. She would cry for him, for both his losses, but secretly wouldn't care. Her baby was coming home.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was going home.
Crap.
*~-~*
Everything looked the same. Identical brightly painted houses lined the streets, giving the town the illusion that it was normal. Kyle had always felt sorry for the tourists. His mother was speaking so quickly her words seemed to stream together. Something about his younger brother, about Stan, about his father; nothing made sense. As they finally pulled into the driveway of the house he spent his childhood in he felt sick.
"We kept your room the way that you left it," His mother beamed at him. "Your father also wants you to consider returning to college to finish your Law degree."
"I'll think about it mom," He sighed, dragging his suit case out of the car. Kyle had hated law. When Christina suggested they move to Chicago Kyle jumped at the opportunity to quit.
"I'm serious Kyle," she continued, even after five years she'd never lost that nagging tone. "Think about it please, it would make your father so happy."
"You mean it would make you happy," Kyle muttered.
"If you're going to live with us again you have to be more respectful Kyle," his mother scowled.
"Yes mam," Kyle replied. "Can you let me in? I'd like to dump this suitcase in my room."
"Yes of course dear," his mother smiled sweetly. "Then you can help me throw out all that useless junk you have up there."
"I'll be gone in a few days mom," He sighed. "Just leave it."
"Whatever you say hun."
His stuff would be gone by the end of the week.
*~-~*
"We can't seat Kyle and Cartman together Wendy," Stan Marsh sighed, running his hand through his thick black locks. "They haven't been able to be in a room together without fighting since we graduated."
"I'm sure they can be civil enough," Wendy replied. "Cartman's changed a lot in the past few years and Kyle's becoming increasingly hard to seat. I mean Christina doesn't want him to be anywhere near her so we can't sit him at the bridal table."
"I don't know what her problem is with him," Stan muttered.
"He's boring," Wendy continued. "Plain and simple."
"Hey," Stan frowned. " That's my best friend you're talking about. Are you saying that I'm boring?"
"N-no," Wendy stammered. "I'm just saying-"
"It's okay Wens," Stan smiled, kissing his fiancé's forehead. "I know what you mean."
The doorbell rang out.
"And there's Mr. Boring himself," Stan joked.
"Stan," Wendy began. "Don't tell him I said that."
"Don't worry," Stan grinned. "He'll never know. I'll see you soon."
"Have a great night."
"You too hun."
*~-~*
The bar smelt like moldy tobacco and old beer. Stains from old spills coated the floor creating patterns like Rorschach blots. The tables were sticky and the coasters had just about rotted away.
"You know," Kyle began, tentively sipping his beer. "I don't think I've ever stepped foot inside this place before. I cannot understand its appeal."
"It kind of grows on you," Stan grinned. "Besides, our dads used to drink here."
"I'm sure they still do," Kyle smiled back.
"Nah," Stan shook his head. "Ever since us kids left home it's far easier to hang around someone's house. Women in one house, men in the other."
"Isn't that a bit sexist?"
"Well yeah, but I've never seen a woman enter this place. Even Wendy skirts around it."
"Oh."
"So how are you holding up?"
"Not so good," Kyle grimaced. "Mom began to bitch before we'd even got home"
"Why'd you even leave Chicago anyway?" Stan questioned.
"Long story," Kyle began. "The same day I was dumped I got fired."
"Really?" Stan asked. "Harsh."
"Yeah," Kyle murmured. "There was this one girl at work who just didn't like me."
"A girl?"
"Yes."
"And she wasn't attracted to your luscious red curls?"
"Shut up," Kyle snapped. "Anyway, it was a small store, she'd been there longer than me and apparently I was causing problems. Next thing I know I'm unemployed because of the 'current financial situation' or some bull."
"That sucks ass."
"Yeah," Kyle sighed. "Apparently I had a piss poor attitude and it cause drama in the workplace. I just wasn't worth all the problems."
"Oh..."
"I really liked Chicago," Kyle sighed. "It was a beautiful city. If I still had a job I would have stayed."
"I'm sorry," Stan murmured.
"Don't be, it's not your fault. These things happen."
"Doesn't mean they don't suck."
"I know."
"Well at least one good thing came of this," Stan began. "You get to hang out with me."
Kyle smiled back at his friend, lifted his beer and chinked it. He had missed his best friend a lot. They'd been friends for so long, had been through so much together. It was sappy, it was corny, but Kyle loved Stan like a brother.
"Hey Kyle," Stan began, finishing off his beer.
"Yes Stan."
"Sorry to ask, but people are curious," Stan continued, finishing his beer. "And I'd rather tell them the short version rather than you. So what happened with Christina?"
"By people you mean Cartman?"
"Yeah."
"If I don't tell him Kyle he'll harass you about it during the wedding."
"I can put up with him."
"Last time he had a go at you, you knocked out two of his teeth."
"He was being an ass," Kyle shrugged. "Besides, it's not like he didn't have it coming."
"Look Kyle," Stan said sharply. "I don't want you ruining what's supposed to be the best day of my life over some petty childhood feud. Yes Cartman is a rude, selfish, racist, arrogant prick with an ego bigger than the entire country, but he is my friend."
"I know that Stan," Kyle sighed, running his hands through his silky red curls. "I just don't get why."
"The same reason as always."
"Oh."
"Are you going to tell me or not?"
"Apparently I'm boring," Kyle muttered. "Apparently moving across state to be with her wasn't impulsive but clingy. Apparently she needed space. Apparently she's been seeing her professor for the past month."
"That sucks man," Stan had no idea what to say.
"And finally," Kyle breathed in deeply. "I'm a lousy lay."
"Ouch."
"Yeah," Kyle finished off his beer. "It kinds sucks when a sixty year old man is better at sex than you."
"Look on the bright side," Stan grinned. "At least you don't need Viagra."
"Maybe I do," Kyle smiled a small smile. "It worked for him."
"What do you want me to tell Cartman?" Stan asked.
"Just tell him she left me for her professor," Kyle sighed. "I mean, she's probably already invited him to the wedding."
'At least you don't have to talk to her."
"No," Kyle snapped. "I just have to watch her waltz down the aisle and then attempt not to look at her while you and Wendy are exchanging vowels."
"If you're going to find it that difficult I can find someone else."
"Stan," Kyle smiled gently. "Thanks. But it'll be your day, not mine. I'm there for you, that's all that matters."
Thank fuck, Kyle thought to himself as he followed the newlyweds out of the church. He smiled and waved with the crowd before turning around and scooting around the outside of the church. The ceremony had been beautiful, white flowers adorned the church; the only colours were the beautiful flowers in the brides bouquet. Kyle had never seen Stan look so happy, and he hated himself for being so miserable.
He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He raised the long pale stick to his lips and inhaled. He loved the taste; every breath took him slightly closer to heaven.
"I thought you gave those up," a sweet voice scolded.
Kyle looked up; in front of him was a beautiful blonde girl with the most intense blue eyes he had ever seen. Her arms were crossed over the swell in her chest, matching the frown upon her face.
"Hello Christina," Kyle muttered, purposefully taking another long drag. "What business is it of yours?"
"Well for one thing you're asthmatic-" She paused, frowning slightly. "I still care about you Kyle; I was hoping we could still be friends."
"We could have been," Kyle responded. "Until you fucked your fucking professor."
"John is a great guy Kyle," Christina continued. "And he's French! You would really like him if you took the chance to get to know-"
"Why would I want to?" Kyle snapped. "He fucking stole my girlfriend. Maybe if it happened after you dumped me I would have been open to the concept. But at the moment the only thing I can say is fuck you."
"Why are you such a bastard?"
'Why are you such a whore?"
WHACK
Kyle felt pain across his cheek as his ex slapped him. He blinked and looked at his former girlfriend. Her entire face had gone red; Kyle wouldn't have been surprised if steam had come out of her ears like in cartoons. Kyle stepped back, closing his eyes as she raised her arm again.
"No more slapping ze best man okay?" A gruff voice said.
"Fine," Christina growled. "I was leaving anyway."
Kyle slowly opened his eyes. In front of him stood a tall, unshaven man with dirty brown eyes and a crooked nose. Even in a suit than man look like he just rolled out of bed.
"You shouldn't look at ze man you just saved you from an ass beating like zat."
The guy was obviously French.
"I'm sorry," Kyle apologised, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another cigarette. "I'm in shock."
"I would be to if zat little 'ore 'ad slapped me," the man said, pulling out his own cigarette.
"You don't like her either?" Kyle lit his cigarette then lit the strangers. 'What did she do to you?"
"She's making me feel emancipated by screwing my fazer."
"Wow," Kyle sighed. "She's my ex."
"I figured zat much."
"Huh?"
"I came round to tell her zat we were proceeding on and I 'eard you two arguing."
"Oh," Kyle murmured, biting his bottom lip. "Sorry."
"Don't be," the guy shrugged. "I told my fazer to go on ahead without me."
"So how are you getting to the reception hall?"
"I assumed you'll give me a lift."
"Sure," Kyle finished his cigarette, putting it out against the white wall of the church. "Why not?"
"You rebel," the man smiled doing the same.
"Kyle," the red head offered out his hand.
"Christophe," Christophe smiled. "So, where to?"
"Well I don't actually have a car here," Kyle shrugged. "I was going to walk."
"We'll take my bike," Christophe began, walking ahead.
"Bike?" Kyle squeaked. "As in motorbike?"
"No, zat is too clichéd for me," Christophe stated. "Bicycle. As in you'll ride on ze handlebars."
"You've got to be kidding me," Kyle said as they stopped in front of a bicycle. "It's pink."
"It's my mozers," Christophe rolled his eyes. "Just hop on."
"No."
There was no way in hell Kyle was getting on that Bicycle.
"Stop being a girl."
"You do it then."
"I am 'eavier zan you," Christophe frowned. "I would flip it."
"Why don't we just take a taxi?"
"If zat is what you want."
"Yes."
"Okay zen," Christophe said, mounting the bike. "I'll see you there."
Kyle watched as he began to ride off.
"No, wait!" Kyle began, shouting.
It was too late.
"Great, just great," Kyle mumbled, dialing the taxi company. "Hello, I would like to request a taxi."
Well yay! Two chapters up, this one and one for my epic fic.
Please read/review. Any comments would be awesome.
Cheers,
Me_Ladie