Sooo I am once again going to try my hand at a South Park fic... yeah I know my last one didnt go too well but I kind of have a plan for this one so I hope it'll be okay. SO R&R and try to enjoy
"Christo-" Gregory stared, unblinking at the boy above him, completely unfazed by the gun pressed to his temple. "Time to get up, Christophe." he continued, waiting until the boy's breathing had evened out and the groggy haze was gone from his hazel green eyes.
Christophe sighed, raising the gun and running a hand through his messy brown hair. "Mornin'" he rocked up to his feet, fishing in a pocket for a semi-crushed cigarette.
"Must you, so early in the morning?" Gregory glared, propping himself up on his elbows.
Christophe ignored the blond, taking a long drag on his cigarette and letting it out. He sighed again, pulling on a black T-shirt.
Seeing that he wasn't going to get a response Gregory got to his feet and dusted off his clothes.
"School starts in twenty minutes." he said with a wave as he swung his leg over the window seal.
"'ow many times must I tell you not to wake me up like a child?!"
Gregory turned to smirk over his shoulder "If I didn't wake you, then you wouldn't come. If you didn't come then Damien would pester me until I told him. In the end, this is a much simpler way of doing things. Don't you agree?" he didn't wait for the boy to throw something at him at the mention of the antichrist. Instead he opted to jump to the tree that grew outside the boy's window and quickly climb down.
"Beech." Christophe sneered.
"Christophe! You're going to be late!" his mother's voice rang up the stairs and through his door.
Shit! He threw his cigarette out the still-open window just in time for his door to open.
"Christophe! What a good boy you are, awake on time! But- What is this smell?!" his mother wrinkled her nose, eyes sweeping the room. Christophe shrugged and after another glance she gave up and turned away.
"Make sure to eat before you go!" she called as she left.
The teenager exhaled, finally releasing the smoke that he'd been holding in his lungs. That had been close. Much too close. He secured his trusty shovel onto his back and slung his bag over a shoulder. Fucking school. Damn you God you fucking faggot for making me get up so early for this shitty ass reason. The boy muttered to himself irritably as he brushed his teeth and headed out the door.
"Christophe! Eat your breakfast!" his mother's shrill voice carried in the cold mountain air and Christophe ignored her.
His fingertips burned. He brought his hands up to his mouth and breathed on them to try and get some circulation back into them. Ah fuck it. He lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag.
A black butterfly made him pause as it fluttered in little circles in his path. It was too cold for butterflies. Damn it all.
"You're early."
If he was forced to describe this voice he'd compare it to chocolate. No, he'd say it was a mix of all of his most sinful desires, coated in liquid silk.
"Sleep eez for ze weak."
The boy who appeared in front of him was none other than the antichrist himself. Black hair fell into his dark red eyes as he smirked.
"The bags under your eyes are getting worse." the boy's thumb stroked the darkened skin that was currently under inspection.
Christophe slapped his hand away and kept walking. Damien just smiled and followed.
"You're actually going to school today, Mole?"
"Shuddup, cocksucker." he muttered.
"Only if its yours." Damien's breath was warm against his ear and Christophe paused, taking the cigarette from his mouth and turning his head to stare irritably into the anitchrist's face before exhaling. Bastard didn't even blink.
The mercenary continued to walk. This school was in sight now and the dull murmur of noise could already be heard. He flicked his finished cigarette away.
"Careful, mon cher, I might make you eat zose words." he smirked over his shoulder at the other boy, pleased to see his expression turn wide eyed a light blush staining his pale skin. Luckily they were within the school doors now and Christophe turned and easily blended into the crowd.
Homeroom was first thing on the list for attendance. Honestly it was the only class he really had to go to. The rest of the teachers were too lazy to take attendance. He settled into his seat casting a glance around the room. He got lucky this year, that fat fuck, Cartman wasn't in his homeroom. He was still stuck with Craig, Kenny, and Kyle though. They should feel honored that he even bothered to remember their names though they were all for different reasons. Kenny's gaze slid over to him and his fingers twitched in a small wave before his eyes returned to whatever he was doing. Christophe dipped his head in greeting.
The bell rang and he frowned. Gregory wasn't here. Strange. He checked his phone. Perhaps they had received a job? No new messages. Dammit. Where is that faggot. Come to think of it, Craig wasn't there either. That wasn't unusual.
As soon as the bell rang for the day to officially start Christophe made his way to the stairs and to the second floor. There was a janitor's closet with a ladder to the roof in the back. He had "happened upon" a master key his freshman year.
With the amount of people in the hall it was disgustingly easy to get in without drawing attention and he climbed the ladder.
It was a nice day out. Cold, as was every other day in this shitty ass town but at least it was quiet.
The telltale blue hat with it's yellow puffball told him that he was correct in his assumption. Craig Tucker was skipping school again and avoiding the police by sitting in the school building. Well, on top of the school building.
"Morning." Christophe greeted, settling to light another cigarette.
Craig turned his head to look at him for a moment before turning back to his sketchbook.
Curious the Mole glanced over the boy's shoulder. It looked like he was drawing out a type of screen play. The raven haired boy had always had an interest in film. He was fairly good at drawing too though Gregory had him beat when it came to painting. Speaking of.
"'ave you seen Gregory?"
"No."
Christophe frowned, leaning against the railing. Where the hell did the blond go?
"Ah, Fuck!"
Christophe whipped around, a hand on the handle of his shovel but it was only Damien. He seemed to have given Craig a heart attack though.
"Tweek needs you. Cartman pushed him down the stairs, now he's locked himself in the bathroom and won't come out. Kenny is trying to talk him out but so far it isn't working." the demon looked down at Craig who sighed and crushed his forgotten cigarette under his heel before stuffing his shit into his bag and hurrying for the door.
Once he was gone Damien smirked at Christophe. "So about that promise you made me earlier..."
"I deed no such zing." Christophe kept his eye on the antichrist.
"Something about making me eat my words."
Christophe raised an eyebrow. "You want my dick zat badly?"
Damien sighed "You know you make me sound as bad as Kenny."
"In my opinion you are worz."
"How so?"
"You don't take no for an anzer."
To this Damien smirked. "Of course not. I'm the Prince of Darkness, I usually get what I want." the boy's eyes glowed red.
Christophe smiled and flicked his cigarette away, walking past and letting his fingertips graze along the demon's jaw. He knew he was being a flirt but for as often as that damned antichrist pulled him into closets or alleyways or the backseat of his car, Christophe figured he deserved to have some fun with him. He was one of the only humans able to stand Damien's appetites and honestly after Christophe had physically beaten some sense into him, the demon turned almost docile while around the other male... well as docile as the son of Satan could get.
"Tease." Damien growled.
"'ave you seen Gregory?"
"No? Why, hasn't he shown up?"
"Non..."
"Here I thought you two were attached at the hip."
"Fuck off beetch." he brought another cigarette to his lips and smirked to himself as Damien lit it using his powers. His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Maybe we did get a job. That bastard. He quickly entered his password and frowned. It was a picture message but it wasn't from Gregory... Cartman? What did that fat, cocksucking, foggot want... Christophe clicked on the message and the cigarette fell from suddenly lifeless lips as he stare at his screen.
It was Gregory, his blond hair matted and tangled his clothing stained red around the collar. There were only four words.
Come and get him.
