I think I'm in love with Gregory and Christophe, I can't seem to stop writing about the two of them. Hope y'all enjoy this little smutty one-shot

SMUT! Just so you know

Some stars

He didn't much mind his job. Some people absolutely loved or despised their jobs. He just found it reasonable tolerable. It was a way to pay his bills and spend some of his time. What he really loved, however, was writing. He did it in the evenings, during lunch breaks or in the weekends. Of course no one knew he wrote. His colleagues, his boss, his friends, his family: no one knew.

And they most certainly didn't need to know that he was the author of a famous series of detective books called "Closer to home" had earned him great reviews and it had became a very popular book. He had written more books in the series and was forever grateful to have been writing under an alias.

No one would suspect him to be the author as he parked their cars or booked their meetings. Surely, the valet of the famous law firm "Lloyd and sons" was not someone they suspected to be a writer in his free time.

And especially not the most annoying and breathtaking lawyer of them all. Christophe always found himself looking forward to and dreading his arrival at work. It seemed as if his mind simply didn't know what to think of his blond friend.
It had actually been Gregory who had told him about the job of receptionist/ valet/ housekeeper or whatever it was at his law firm. His pride had forbade him to accept a job practically offered to him by his friend. But Gregory knew that and had buggered and bitched at him for three weeks. After some very stressful debates with each other he had applied for the job and had gotten it.

He was waiting outside of the building for Gregory to show up. Gregory was always late. He claimed it was because he had such a busy schedule that he was often too exhausted to get up in the morning. Christophe knew it was because he spent too much time on his hair. Gregory's schedule wasn't that busy at all. Yes he worked a lot of hours per day, but in his free time he mostly hung out with Christophe, dragging him into museums and to movies. Christophe always grumbled and complained, but never minded hanging out with Gregory. In fact, he loved it maybe a bit too much

He was about to light up another cigarette when Gregory came speeding around the corner. He always drove too fast. But he could afford the tickets, of course. Gregory always drove expensive cars, not big and ugly ones like the rest, but very expensive nonetheless. Christophe loved seeing him in his car. And he hated that he loved that. Gregory stopped the car right in front of Christophe's feet. Sunglasses on his face and his suit smooth and wrinkle free.

"Hello, old chap." He greeted happily as he practically dashed out of his car with a smooth elegance that no one could rival. Christophe always had the idea Gregory wore a type of suits specifically designed to emphasize his ass. Everybody knew he was gay, no one ever doubted that when they saw him in that suit. Nor did they when they saw how he reacted around spiders. The man was terrified of them and started to scream like a little girl whenever he encountered one.

Christophe just grunted in greeting and walked forward. The sunlight practically bounced of Gregory's blond hair and he felt insanely jealous of Casey Miller who had a 3 hour meeting with him, as he had seen in the day planner. Gregory handed him the keys and whipped off his sunglasses. Damn faggot looked like a model while doing that.

"You shouldn't speed so much, Gregory." He mumbled.

"Good day to you too!" He laughed happily as he walked inside.

He watched Gregory go before getting in his car. The damn thing still smelled like Gregory, all spicy, masculine and delicious. But instead of driving towards the parking lot he took a left when arriving at the gate, driving into the city.

He didn't know when he had started doing this but he couldn't stop himself from doing it. There was something terribly arousing and nice about secretly driving Gregory's car. Of course he was always in-cre-di-bly careful when returning the car. He even had a little trick to rewind the counter for the miles. Gregory could never find out.

He hoped.

Besides, it wasn't as if it actually bothered the blond. All he would do was drive a few blocks and return the car. He didn't eat inside of it, didn't even smoke and left it as clean as he found it. He did, however, listen to his own music. Gregory listened to all kinds of gay ass crappy music. The backstreet boys even, for crying out loud.

He had brought some nice French upbeat music. The French made more than just chansons, thank you very much. He loved driving Gregory's car. It drove smoothly and fluently, not with shocks and a lot of noise like his own car. And the fact that the seat was still warm from Gregory's body made him hard almost every time.

He only took the car for a quick spin and then put it in its usual spot on the parking lot, turning it off.

He felt under the seat. Gregory's car was absolutely spotless but he kept a lot of weird and embarrassing stuff under his seats. Often he found gum, wrappers of some fudge (the only sweets Gregory allowed himself to eat) and one time even a half finished bottle of lube. Nasty fag. This time he found an empty plastic bag and, to his surprise, a book.

One of his.

Stunned he turned it over and over in his hands. It was the third in the series, named "Among equals" and by the looks of it it had been read very often. Curious, he opened it. The first page contained Gregory's name and a date some three years prior, obviously he had bought it then. The book fell open at random pages, as if Gregory had bent the book when reading it. There, another surprise met him. Gregory had made annotations in the book. Little words in the margins or sometimes sentences. Parts of the text were underlined, some even multiple times.

He stopped when at one page he saw a paragraph underlined and a big exclamation mark next to it and just one word: "me". He felt sweat start to bead on his forehead when he realized what it was he had marked.

It was the description of the receptionist.

Every writer put something of himself in stories and he had been the same. Of course, making himself the receptionist of the detective firm in the book would have been too obvious, instead he had made her a fabulous woman. Slightly chubby and brown-haired by the name of Isabelle. But he had not been able to avoid bringing other parts of his life into the books, like some locations, cities or sometimes even people.
And after a silly fight with Gregory he had fled to his computer and typed out a furious and unnecessary mean description of the receptionist. He had wanted to delete it later on but his editor had loved it too much.

She was blond,willowy and pretty. Men couldn't get a hold of her, so it seemed. But Isabelle saw right through her. She was just another silly whore, waiting to be used.

With a shock he leafed through the book and every place he encountered another mark of Gregory his heart nearly stopped. Gregory had seen right through him.

Every fucking where.

He had managed to point out every person he had used in his story: Mister Garrison, Kyle, Gary...He had even managed to point out all the different aspects of Christophe's own character that must have shown through his words.

Sometimes Gregory had written things like:
"Having no one to trust= having no father" or "Softer side that needs to be hidden from other people" or even, perhaps the most distressing thing:

"Midsummer's eve, graduation year." He remembered that part of his life exceedingly well. It was the night of a big farewell party at Clyde's house. Gregory had been distressed for months at that time. Christophe first thought it was because of his nerves for what was to come after summer. But when Gregory had pulled him outside and had requested to talk with him he knew it must have been something else. The blond had swallowed, his face a rosy shade of pink because of the heat and the alcohol.

"Christophe, I-." But he seemed too nervous to talk.

"Yes?" He had prompted, looking in worry at his distressed best friend in front of him.

"Please, don't be mad. But I think that I-." He swallowed and looked away. "I think I might be gay."

Gregory had refused to look at him, and Christophe had said the only thing he could at that time.

"Jesus, Gregory. I knew zat four years ago. You are so stupid sometimes." Gregory had burst into tears right there and then, believed, ashamed and happy at the same time. Christophe had hugged him to him and the blond, under influence of all the alcohol couldn't get enough of this rare hug from Christophe.

They had been closer than ever since that. He had used parts of that weird and upsetting moment in one of his dialogues and Gregory must have recognized it.

Somehow he felt incredibly exposed and naked at being found out like that. He had tried so desperately to keep that side of him hidden, to keep his identity hidden. But to no avail.

He cursed and put everything back in to place, exiting the car with trembling hands. Gregory knew he was "James Ferguson". What was worse, he knew he used his personal life, their personal life, for inspiration. But why he hadn't confronted him with that knowledge yet was strange. It felt like Gregory was up to something.

He went back inside, back to work, finishing all his usual chores and odd jobs with vigor, trying to forget what he had just found out.

Gregory called him when he was at home, demanding to have dinner with him that night. Of course he agreed to it. Gregory took him to some spare ribs place. He always complained how he thought it was a messy thing to eat. You got filthy and covered in barbecue sauce. But Christophe knew it was just a way of composing himself. Gregory loved spareribs.

All throughout dinner he kept looking at his blond friend. How long had he known he was the writer of those books? And why hadn't he told him? Gregory probably wanted him to find out he knew, or something. He loved watching Gregory eat spareribs, there was something so animalistic about it, something so vulgar. Gregory stripped the meat of the bones with gusto, gnawed on the ends of it and licked barbecue sauce off of his lips. He could get really dirty and messy while eating them. Somehow, all his British manners and neatness disappeared when he ate them. And of course he kept talking all the while through and Christophe joined in with pleasure.

They had gotten closer over the past two years. Before that they had drifted apart a bit, all due to the fact that Gregory had started dating someone. At first, Christophe thought he wouldn't mind that. Until he saw how sweet and adorable Gregory got when he was around his boy friend. He was attentive, caring and sweet. And of course Gary was the same. The sight of the two blonds together was too much for Christophe to bear. He didn't know why, didn't dare to put a name on it, but it was that way nonetheless.

He had distanced himself from his friend, always coming up with random excuses as to why he couldn't hang out.
Until Christmas, two years ago. He didn't have any plans for that night. His family lived in France and he didn't want to spent so much money on a ticket so instead he had staid at home, making a big French cake and eating it in front of the television. Not a proper meal at all, but he didn't give a fuck. He was just about to make more whipped cream when the doorbell rang.

It was Gregory.

He looked pale and messy. Tear tracks on his cheeks and a hollow look in his eye. Christophe had taken him in and the blond had broken down crying. Gary had broken up with him.

For a woman.

The Mormon had claimed it was for the best. His parents had nearly disowned him when they had found out he was dating a man. And he valued having biological kids very much.

Gregory was devastated. And Christophe had helped him to get back on his feet. He spent a lot of time with him, taking him out and sometimes just stroking his hair as they watched a movie together. Gregory had healed, had become his old cheery self again. And somewhere along all of it, Christophe had fallen in love with him. He might have been in love with him always, he didn't know, but now he knew for sure. But he had pushed his feelings aside, putting Gregory's healing process first. And somehow he never got around to telling him or making a move. Besides, they were friends for so long now, who knew what they might ruin when they started dating?

But even after Gregory had gotten over it they had kept seeing each other very often. A lot of movies, museums and exhibitions together. And sparerib dinners, like now.

Christophe looked at Gregory as they ate and talked, loving how Gregory seemed nearly in love with the spareribs.

They debated current events, some movies and even some books. Though Christophe's books were never mentioned. He felt strangely disappointed, as if his books didn't matter to his friend even when he had seen how often he had read them!

They parted ways at the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Gregory still had some things to do. He said groceries, Christophe knew that "Pride and Prejudice" was on in half an hour and he wanted to swoon over Colin Firth, wearing his sweatpants and eating Ben and Jerry's but was too damn stubborn to say that.

He just hugged him and squeezed his ass, earning a shouted warning from Gregory. He grinned as he watched Gregory walk away. Exhausted he came home, desperate to listen to some French music, when he realized:

He had left his CD in Gregory's car.

"FUCK!" he exclaimed loudly. There was no one of getting it back this late in the evening. And more importantly: how on earth would he try and do this: "Sorry, Gregory but I seem to have left my CD in your car while I was driving through the street do you mind giving it back to me?" No way in hell would that work. Gregory would demand all the details, like the prissy little asshole that he was. And what was more Gregory had probably already found it.

He cursed again at his own stupidity and pulled at his hair. Gregory could be a very private person and he knew that him finding out he sometimes drove his care would not be appreciated in the slightest. He paced around his room. Perhaps it was best to ignore it for the time being, maybe Gregory hadn't turned on his radio. He could just try and get the CD back tomorrow, yes that was what he would do.

The next day went by as usual. Gregory showing up late and dashing inside and Christophe parked his car, too terrified to drive around for a while. He got the CD back, noting it was still on the same song and time, meaning the blond probably hadn't turned his radio on.

Things were going very smoothly. Until both their workdays were over. He waited for Gregory to show up in the lobby and they walked outside together.

"Would you like to go for a drive?" Gregory proposed. Christophe narrowed his eyes at the blond as all kinds of alarm bells started to sound in his head. This could not be good.

"No thank you." He said, too politely for his usual manner.

"Come on. I insist." And he was grabbed by the shoulder and led to the car. With a grumble he sat down.

Gregory got in too and they drove off. For a moment neither of them spoke. No music, no talking, just driving. It wasn't until they had left the city limits that Gregory spoke:

"So, another silly whore, am I?"

"You 'ad no right to read zose books!" Christophe yelled. Gregory just looked ahead, no smile on his face but not a frown either.

"Why not? They are for public use." Then he turned to Christophe for a moment. "My car, however, is not."

They were silent for a moment as Gregory drove on. Christophe mumbled.

"What gave me away?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes, nothing. The car was always too clean, too untouched when you returned it to me. That tipped me off."

Christophe stared.

"But I 'ave been so fucking careful! Are you telling me zat when I would 'ave been less careful you wouldn't 'ave known?"

"No, then I would have known too." Somehow, that made sense. Gregory knew him too well. They were silent once more as Gregory drove them into the mountains, the roads quite at this time of the day. Christophe decided to speak some more, he wanted to know more details anyway.

"When did you find out?"

"May 15th."

Christophe swore, that had been the first time he had driven Gregory's car. Gregory pulled over and drove them to a patch of grass. They were quite high up a hill, surrounded by forests and the city below them in the valley.

"What are you going to do 'ere?" Christophe asked alarmed. "Kill me and bury my body in ze woods?"

Gregory laughed.

"No, of course not. I though we could enjoy the view."

They both got out of the car and turned to look at the view. It was truly splendid: the mountains spreading out all around them, glowing in the light of the late afternoon. Forests a deep and vibrant green and the city just visible in the distance. They were both silent and just looked, leaning against the hood. Christophe just looked ahead and smoked a cigarette.

After a while he spoke.

"I'm sorry for borrowing your car without telling you."

Gregory was silent.

"And I'm sorry for making you a whore in my books. Zere, are we okay now?"

"No, I think not."

"What on earth do you want zen?"

"I don't know, some payment perhaps."

Christophe didn't speak, he knew nothing good could come of this.

"How about you let me have you over the hood of my car?" Gregory said in a smooth voice.

"WHAT?"

"I think you heard me."

"I'm not some whore!"

"If you let me have you, you can borrow the car any time you want."

"You're an asshole, take me home." He demanded. And he walked around the car and got in. Gregory looked at him for a moment but sighed and he got in as well. He turned to Christophe to speak but Christophe slammed his hand over his mouth, an idea occurring to him. Gregory's eyes went wide at Christophe's nasty smirk.

In a way, Gregory had just given him the 'go ahead'. Gregory could be good with words, except for when it came to talking about feelings or desires. Perhaps, just perhaps, Gregory hadn't been joking about sex. This could be the perfect moment to find out.

Christophe scooted closer and slid his hand from Gregory's mouth to his cheek, forcing his head to turn away from him.

"What are you-."

But he silenced him by kissing his neck. Gregory gasped loudly as a hot pair of lips moved over his skin, caressing it softly. Christophe kissed firmly and bit down very softly. Gregory's skin tasted amazing and he couldn't get enough of it. Finally, he acted on his desires and it was better than he expected. His hand moved to Gregory's hair, combing it gently. Gregory whimpered and melted against the seat.

He had told Christophe about this, once. They had both been drunk and had talked about sex, the only time they had ever done that. And the blond had told him how his neck was very, very sensitive. His most preposterous erogenous zone, he had called it. And Christophe had always wanted to take advantage of that knowledge.

He licked a slow line from Gregory's collarbone up to his ear and he felt the blond squirm under him. He cradled his head to him, and kissed harder, lips pressing against the smooth skin. Gregory moaned very quietly. He could feel a rapid heart beat under his lips and the blond was already warming up. Skin hot and soft. He let go of Gregory's head and slid his hand down the blond's torso, loving how the body felt underneath his hand. Gregory responded needily, moaning softly as his hand traced over a nipple before dipping down lower.

Without looking he unbuttoned Gregory's pants, gracing the erection he found.

"Christophe-." Gregory tried as Christophe wrapped his hand around it, pumping it fluently.

"Hm?" He murmured against Gregory's neck, his boldness growing and making him even more forward. "What was zat? You want me to suck you off?"

Gregory gasped softly in answer, making it quite clear that he very much liked the thought. Christophe didn't need further encouragement than that and leaned down.

Gregory felt wonderful on his tongue. And he grew incredibly hungry for more. He took him in deep, sucking softly, licking just the tip, sliding his tongue over it. And above him Gregory fell apart. Every movement of his tongue earned him another sigh, every suck another moan. Gregory's hand settled in his hair, stroking affectionately.

He was tugged up and then, finally, their mouths met in a flurry of movements. Desperate tongues pressing into each other's mouths, lips sliding over each other. He grabbed Gregory's head, forcing him closer and the blond moaned so wantonly into his mouth that he backed up.

"Get out of ze car." He pushed against Gregory, who frowned for a moment before getting out. Christophe followed him and pressed Gregory against the hood of the car, kissing him again. His hand found Gregory's erection. And the blond moaned and whimpered against his lips. A pair of hands slid over his shoulders and back and down to grip his ass. Christophe backed up once again. Sucking Gregory off had been the most arousing thing he had ever done in his life and his erection was already pushing against the front of his own jeans. He knew Gregory's look of pure desperation and passion was mirrored in his. He weighed things in his mind. They both wanted it. And in a sense, he did owe at least something to Gregory.

Perhaps he should let Gregory have this one.

He smirked before moving back to the car's driver's seat. Quickly he found what he was looking for: the lube and even some condoms. He put them down onto the hood. Gregory blushed and seemed uneasy for the first time since they had started this. So he kissed him again, pouring all his lust into the other man.

He permitted Gregory to push him against the hood of the car, their erections brushing together. He moaned low in his throat and knew that he just had to have him right now. He unbuttoned his own jeans and let them fall of his hips along with his boxers.

He turned over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and looking over his shoulder at Gregory, who seemed stunned at what was offered him. Just for a moment though. Because he opened the lube with a grin, squirting it over his hand and leaning over Christophe to kiss him, a finger sliding into him. Christophe grunted against Gregory's lips as Gregory moved it carefully inside him. He let his head drop onto his arms as he saw Gregory's satisfied smile. That expression was too much to take. Too arrogant. Too wonderful.

Gregory added another finger, scissoring him urgently. Christophe could only pant and push back, riding Gregory's fingers. Gregory kissed his neck, desperately, panting quietly. Christophe growled as a third finger pressed into him. Pain shooting through him and he winced, still hiding his face into his arms. Gregory didn't need to see he was in slight pain. But his pain was short lived as Gregory searched inside him, deliberately. He moaned with a whimpering sound as Gregory pressed against his prostrate. And the blond did it again, and again. Until Christophe was nothing but a whimpering pool of need on the hood of his car. Gregory's breath hot on his neck as the blond kissed his neck and pressed his forehead against his shoulders. He trembled under Gregory and he could barely suppress himself from coming.

"Gregory." He practically begged. "Gregory, come on, now." Gregory's fingers left him quickly and he looked over his shoulder to watch how Gregory grabbed a condom and put it over his erection quickly. A kiss was pressed against his mouth as the blond leaned over him again, already pushing into him. Christophe whimpered unintentionally as Gregory entered his body gradually, in slow thrusts. He leaned forward burying his head in his arms and willing his lower body to relax. Gregory moaned in his ear as he kept his slow pace from earlier, Christophe tenseness preventing him from moving faster. His careful movements sending slow vibes of pleasure through Christophe's body.

He could feel Gregory's sweaty chest press against him through their shirts. One of his hands lay on the hood of the car, balled into a fist and Gregory surprised him by forcing his fist to open and their fingers to entwine. Gregory's soft, breathy moans and tender movements of his hips drove him insane in a mixture of pain and pleasure and he just breathed loudly, letting Gregory set the pace.

"God, you're tight. When was the last time you did this?" Christophe couldn't answer, his mind too much preoccupied with the pain coursing through his body. Gregory grabbed his hair, turning his head sideways to breathe against his cheek.

"You have done this, right?" he said with some alarm, his hips stilling their movements. "Please don't tell me I'm your fi-."

"Don't flatter yourself." Christophe grunted back, panting from the pain. "Eet has just been a while."

"If you want to stop-."

"No." He growled, pushing back against Gregory, who trembled against him and moaned. He wanted this too much to let a little pain stop it from finally happening. Gregory still moved carefully, slowly. Obvious afraid to hurt him. And even when his movements became easier he kept a slow pace, obviously wanting to drive Christophe insane and he succeeded in it quite well. Christophe was desperate to keep quiet, not wanting to give that stupid blond the satisfaction of knowing he was barely standing because of the pleasure he was giving him.

A hand found his erection but he gasped out.

"No! Don't!"

"Why not?" Gregory's heavy voice came in his ear.

"I don't want to come before you do." He gasped back, but Gregory laughed breathlessly in his ear.

"I don't think you have to worry about that."

"Going to come already, eh?" He taunted back, even when his voice was low and out of breath.

"What? From fucking your tight ass?" Gregory murmured back. Christophe groaned. Gregory talking dirty was insanely hot.

"After I sucked you off?"

"God yes. Finally." Gregory growled. And this time he grabbed Christophe's dick without permission, jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

"Oh, shit Gregory!" He turned his head sideways and their mouths met in a desperate, hungry kiss. Christophe pushed back, wincing slightly in pain but Gregory's stroking and the way he kept pushing hard against his prostrate was more than enough to make up for it.

"Oh God, I'm going to come." Gregory moaned, kissing his lips over and over.

"Zat's okay." Christophe whispered back, gripping Gregory's hand firmer with his own. It seemed as if that was all Gregory needed. He closed his eyes and gasped loudly, his thrusts becoming erratic as he came. His breath hard and warm on Christophe's lips and his expression the most beautiful one he had ever seen.

Gregory barely recovered before pulling out and flipping Christophe onto his back. This time, the moans spilled from Christophe's mouth without check as Gregory's mouth fell onto his cock, sucking and licking immediately. A pair of hands grabbing his hips as he tried to buck up into Gregory's mouth.

"Fuck, fuck your mouth." Christophe swore. "Damn, you're good at zis." He could feel Gregory smirk around him as he took him in deeper. Christophe whimpered, grabbing Gregory's head and forcing him down faster, even when that earned him an angry growl. He couldn't mind, Gregory's soft hair, this form of total submission.

"Fuck, Gregory! Like zat! God, you fucking cocksuck-." His insult was cut off as he groaned loudly and came down Gregory's throat. And Gregory swallowed it all. If he hadn't just come that would have made him hard again. He lay back against the hood, eyes closed and panting. He could hear Gregory tidy himself up but he was too tired to move. He felt a smack against his thigh.

"Dress yourself, you're sweating all over my car."

"And whose fault is zat?" He muttered. But he moved up and dressed himself. He walked around the car with an odd limp in his step, he could hear Gregory snicker.

"Faggot." He mumbled as he stepped inside. Gregory just hummed and stepped in. Nothing gave away that they had just been doing dirty things, except for his hair that was sticking out at the back where Christophe had grasped it. He was about to buckle up when Christophe stopped him by putting a hand on his knee. They looked at each other and Christophe leaned in to kiss him softly. Gregory replied to the kiss, a hand moving to Christophe's hair to caress it lovingly.

They smiled as they backed up. Silently they buckled up and drove off. The stars were already coming out, twinkling in the greyish light of the late afternoon. When they entered the city limits again Gregory started talking:

"I want the receptionist to have a bigger part in your stories."

Christophe looked at Gregory, who was still staring straight ahead. He put his hand on Gregory's knee, who grabbed it and squeezed it in his own hand.

"Yes, I want zat too."

END