A/N: oh shit. I actually did it. I wrote a Southpark fic. What's wrong with me. And even worse, I already started a second fic for there two as well. Oops. God damn, why do I have such a crush for love/hate like relationships xD
Trivial fights had to be the worst of them all. Of course they didn't mean a lot to either of them, but that was a reason itself why they were turned out very bad. Neither of them would hold back even the slightest bit, they often ended up even worse beaten up in comparison with a brawl for a mission. "Fucking Anglais bastard, let me in!" Christophe yelled from the other side of the door, bashing it aggressively with his fists. "Gregory!"
"You know the condition Christophe, I won't let your dirty ass in, no shower, no entrance." Gregory said with a bright melodic tone. Their door was equipped with a great collection of locks, which had been a request of Christophe himself. Gregory thought it was a little exaggerated to have 7 different kind of locks on the door, but in cases like this, when he wanted to keep his roommate out it was ideal.
"Fuck you-" "-You won't with your filthy dick-" "Don't lock me out juzt becauze of zose god damn sheets, zey will become dirty by tomorrow anyway, let me in faggot!" Christophe kept bashing his fist to the door. He would be able to unlock all off the keyholes in the door with an hairpin, but there were some chains on the door as well so he could impossibly break into their bedroom as long as Gregory was there to keep the door locked.
"Or you go and buy yourself a sleeping bag and sleep on the floor, I've had enough of sleeping in a bed with sand and dirt, for god's sake, I just found a earthworm between the sheets!" He yelled back angrily, hogging the clean black sheets on their bed. They smelled abnormally fresh, it had taken at least 3 washes before they had become clean again. It was probably harder to teach the Mole hygiene then to convince him to take a dog as pet.
"I am not taking a fucking shower. Well, you are ze one who can't go anywhere, I will just go outside to take a smoke and- wait, oh fucking god you've got my shovel zere, 'aven't you?" Christophe knocked the door even louder, followed by some French curses. "You weak cowardly bastard, you like hiding be'ind ze door non? While I do ze dirty work you just sip your tea and make sure ze alarm is off, but you can't do nothing more zen zat, you beetch!"
Gregory just laughed as he stretched out on the soft fresh bed. "Yes, without me your dirty balls would be ripped off by the guard dogs, which might be an improvement-"
"Come and zay that in my face you coward!" Christophe said as he kicked the door angrily, "At least give me my shovel back you beetch!"
Getting off the bed laughingly he started to unlock the door, "Really Christopher, you are actually insisting in calling me a female dog? That's pretty ironic you know." Gregory said, having complete control of his emotions unlike Christophe. He knew it would end up in a brawl about that silly shovel, but Gregory knew he had the upper hand in this case and would be able to get Christophe to take a fucking shower. If one of them could be compared to a dog, it would be Christophe. Gregory was more like a cat.
When the last lock was undone, Christophe nearly jumped into the room, directly throwing Gregory down on the floor. "You filthy bastard, give eet back!"
Christophe just smiled calmly, grabbing Christophe's wrists before he got the opportunity to hit him. "Calm down, if someone's filthy here it's you. And I hid your shovel carefully and I won't tell you where to find it before you take a bath." Christophe gave him a nasty look before spitting in his face. "Manners, Mole, can't you even negotiate?" Christophe said with a stern look, not releasing his grip on the other's wrists in case he might try something. "I'll wash your hair and wash the rest of your body. If you behave I might even reward you with a massage, and then you will be free to get into the room and you'll get your precious shovel back."
Christophe snorted, trying to pull his hands back, but he couldn't. "Zat, or I'll force you, little rich boy" he said spitting again. He tried to think of other ways to torture him like this to persuade him to give his shovel back. Like that, he remembered he still had his legs of full use. With a sadistic grin, he placed one knee right in front of Gregory's crotch.
"Bloody hell, I even offered you a massage, are you afraid of water or something, don't-" Gregory tried but it was all in vain. Christophe kicked his crotch with a lot of force, causing Gregory to release his hands in pain. Not even thinking twice, Gregory's hands grabbed the other boy's throat as he tried to evade the knee trying to hit his precious manhood. "I'm not returning that stupid shovel anyway"
The two continued struggling together, Gregory tearing his lip and receiving some bruises on his upper legs and Christophe ended up with a bad nosebleed. As Christophe's nosebleed seemed pretty serious, they stopped to inspect if he hadn't broken anything, which luckily wasn't the case. Gregory almost got Christophe to go to the bathroom to clean up his nose, but as soon as Christophe realized that Gregory was trying to get him close to the shower he just walked into the kitchen without saying anything more. Gregory still helped to clean up the other's nose, before aiding his own soon-to-be-bruises with some crème.
"Why don't you just return my shovel?" Christophe asked, looking down on Gregory who was sitting on the floor without his pants as he applied the wobbly blue substance on his skin.
"Why don't you just take a shower and accept my offer to do your hair and give you a massage?" Gregory asked back calmly as he rubbed the cold crème into his skin.
"I just beat you in a fight" Christophe tried. "I just got a nosebleed, but you're worse off" he lit another cigarette while he held a piece of toilet paper underneath his nose to absorb the bleeding a bit.
"We stopped because you got a nosebleed, so that's my win. Christophe, do you want a massage and your shovel back or should I just say nothing and keep our bed to myself?"
Christophe snorted at him, first wanting to search for the shovel himself before just giving into Gregory's demand. He stood up, threw away the piece of red-tainted toilet paper, ignoring the small trail of blood which would walk into his mouth, he had to take the chance to search for his shovel now.
"Christophe, please spare the sheets, I did not hide your shovel in our bedroom, I already hid it last night while you were asleep and trust me, you won't be able to find it. I swear in my family's name that your shovel isn't hidden in the bedroom. So there's no reason to smoke in the bedroom, making the sheets stinky again for no reason" Gregory asked, still calmly sitting on the floor.
From Gregory's behavior, Christophe already believed him. It was the most obvious place to hide it anyway in this case, why would Gregory make it that easy? No other place in their flat would make sense. Inside the bedroom, Gregory could have protected it first, but he didn't even try to stop him seriously. It had to be in a good hiding place. Christophe clenched his teeth and fists, looking around for odd places which could be a hiding spot. Gregory however didn't make up tactics for nothing, he was significantly smarter and more of an analyst then Christophe would ever be.
Giving into the fact that Christophe wasn't lucky today at all, he finally agreed to take a quick shower. "You'd better return my shovel directly afterwards or your I'll bury your precious shiny rapier in a deep pit of shit" he threatened as he undressed himself. Carelessly, he dropped his pants to the floor, followed by his shirt and underwear. His face was both murderous and pouting at the same time as he waited in the bathroom for Gregory to finish getting undressed to wash him. Unlike Christophe, Gregory still wore a pair of boxers as he already took a shower in the morning like he always did. "How warm would you like it, Christophe?" he asked while he let the shower already warm up.
"I don't mind, just get over wiz it as quickly as you can, D'accord?" He said impatiently as the bathroom started to fill up with steam. Gregory raised his shoulders, setting it to a temperature he enjoyed himself before gesturing that Christophe could come. Cursing at the shower and god in French, he got underneath it with a painful expression. He wasn't all that used to showering, mostly when he washed himself, it was just with barely warm water. "Are you out off your mind? zis is way too 'ot!" he yelled, followed by even more curses while he added some cold water. Gregory just watched the whole show laughingly, leaning against the wall on the other side of their rather small bathroom which had been decorated fully to Gregory's wishes, as Christophe rarely came here.
Christophe was quickly done with washing his body itself and after Gregory's approval he got out of the shower again and handed Gregory some shampoo, now only pouting. Snickering, Gregory put some shampoo on his hands and just started soaping Christophe's untamed brown hair. Though Christophe had to admit it felt pretty nice to have his head massaged like this, yes it felt very odd, but it was somewhat nice. As Gregory traced circles on Christophe's soapy head he started groaning softly. "Are you done yet?" Christophe asked impatiently, wanting to get out again, he felt uncomfortably clean and naked.
"all right, all right, I am done, do you still want the massage I offered you?" Gregory asked after throughout washing the brown bangs which seemed untamable, even after washing them. Christophe nodded again, and before Gregory could instruct him on what to do, he closed off the water again and grabbed a towel. "I wanted to do that underneath the shower" the blonde groaned. Christophe ignored him and started to dry himself roughly, shivering from the cold.
After he was mostly dry, spare for his hair which he'd rather let dry in the open air, they went back to the bedroom. Christophe literally jumped onto the bed, disappointed when he noticed the freshness of the sheets. Gregory however was very glad with it. Both the bed and both boys were actually relatively clean and fresh. Being much calmer, Gregory also sat down on the bed. Gregory was still bare naked. Drops of water were dripping down the dark bangs upon his broad and scarred shoulders. He didn't really look at the other, evading eye contact was something Gregory had gotten used to over the years as well. He pushed the Frenchman over, being slow enough to not startle the other, but fast enough so he wouldn't struggle too much. Gregory enjoyed knowing his partner so well that he could do anything he wished with him. One big part, which he somehow obtained surprisingly quick, was solely based on trust. The amount of trust both had into eachother could be considered plainly stupid or idiotic, but it was there. Christophe would be willing to fulfill a mission blindfolded with Gregory telling him what he should do, he would break into a place with guard dogs if Gregory told him it was safe, he knew he could trust Gregory with his life.
At the same time Gregory knew the Mole would never get him in too much danger or would hurt him. If Gregory needed to get close to a dangerous target as well, which was sometimes the only possibility, Christophe would always make sure he stayed in the safest place around. Gregory also was able to defend himself pretty well, both with sword, guns or his bare hands, Christophe was the one to make his hands dirty, and he would, Gregory's safety had become the very first priority. That didn't mean Christophe would never threat him. There was nothing farther from the truth. It happened occasionally that Christophe pointed his gun at him and hit him with his shovel. But even with the trigger on and a bullet ready to soar through his skull mercilessly, Gregory was calm. Both were professionals in their occupation, and they knew each other thoroughly.
But what was a good partnership if you couldn't trust the other completely? It was absolutely against the Mole's principles to befriend and to trust someone else, but who would've guessed that such a great partnership could blossom from a friendship between two boys who were close to each other's opposites?
Gregory pushed his lips unto Christophe's full with lust, just thinking about what power he could express upon the French mercenary. He was feared, powerful and aggressive, but with the right words, the right expressions, the right gestures and the right touches Gregory had learned to tame the Mole. Christophe willingly returned the kiss, sliding his hands to the smooth surface of Gregory's back. "You promised a massage you stupeed beetch" he whispered between the kisses, his voice sounding husky but melodic with his thick French accent.
"Keep quiet, impatient filthy brat" Gregory whispered back, sealing their lips together forcefully. He would keep Christophe down completely. Today he would be dominating him, after getting him underneath the shower, having his shovel kidnapped and about to massage his back, Christophe was his for now. It was often a fight for dominance between them. They were often just between playing a rough game and making love.
After the kiss Gregory let the other turn around, to lay face down, flat on the bed. Gregory began massaging Christophe's beautiful, well built shoulders. Slowly but steadily he started kneading the muscular shoulders and his neck. Christophe moaned as a sign it felt nice like this, so Gregory kept it up. His hands slowly worked further down to his shoulder blades, circling with his fingers around his spine. Christophe staid pretty quiet the whole time, not wanting to sound like he was giving into the other. Surely he was relaxing and enjoying the powerful touch, but he shouldn't let his weakness show too much. He was a mercenary after all.
Gregory was exceeding himself in trying to find any weak spot to cringe some more reaction out of the bitter Frenchman. His sides were the best target. Christophe occasionally groaned softly. Christophe wanted to get up and smack the cocky grin he could feel burning in his back of Gregory's face, but Gregory was doing a too good job to keep him down obediently. As long as Gregory wouldn't try too much, Christophe would be okay with it. But the very second Gregory would lay a finger on his butt, or when Christophe could notice that the other was getting hard, Christophe would directly attack him, likely with a gun pressing on the blonde's forehead to keep him down well.
Not like the Mole didn't feel his own dick swell up. Why didn't he put on some boxers before?
Gregory was exceeding himself in tying to find any weak spot to cringe some more reaction out of the bitter Frenchman. His sides were the best target. Christophe occasionally groaned softly. Cristophe wanted to get up and smack the cocky grin he could feel burning in his back of Gregory's face, but Gregory was succeeded just a bit too much with keeping him down. As long as Gregrory wouldn't try too much, Christophe would be okay with it. But the very second Gregory would lay a finger on his butt, or when Christophe could notice that the other was getting hard, Christophe would directly attack him, likely with a gun pressing on the blonde's forehead to keep him down well.
Not like the Mole didn't feel his own dick swell up. Why didn't he put on some boxers before?
Chrisophe's back had turned slightly pink meanwhile. There were scars scattered around his back, the only flaws furthermore. Gregory pressed his lips lovingly upon it. His muscled back felt deliciously soft. He loved touching Christophe so much. Christophe was overall extremely interesting, alluring and enchanting. He was challanged by him. Wanting to pick up the pace, wanting to control the aggressive French underneath him, make him plea. His hands were everywhere around the other's back, touching every part of him, not a single weak spot was left untouched. His kisses turned into soft kinky bites. Though Gregory was the one in control, trying to make Christophe loose his cool, he got carried along himself a lot as well, wanting more and more.
Even though he might get carried along himself in it, Gregory was succeeding very well in melting the mercenary. He was aware of the danger he was actually in, getting close to pushing the limit of what the Mole would tolerate him to do, but even so he still tried pushing him as far as he could. The further Gregory would seduce him, the looser Christophe's limit would become. Normally Christophe wouldn't even let the Brit spontaneously kiss him, but the more Gregory would flirt, the more he would be able to do without him struggling. But it wasn't directly something positive. Kissing without premission would be punished with a simple slap, a hug with a push, slap or kick, a hug with a kiss would be punished with either a direct threat or a serious attempt to injure him, and so on. The further they went, the more dangerous it was.
And it excited Gregory to no end.
It happened quite accidently that Gregory let his hand slip down a little too far on the soft skin of his butt, causing Christophe to flinch. With brute strength Christophe got up, throwing Gregory off him. "Fuckeeng 'orny beetch!" He spat, he was very well aware of his hard dick himself but he wasn't just going to keep laying down and let Gregory touch him to his own content. No fucking way he will let him do that. After Gregory had collected himself again from the shock of being thrown off, he soon grinned, noticing that he had managed to get Christophe very hard already with his massage. "You god damned cocksucker" He yelled furiously at him, becoming furious in his embarrassment. Within seconds he had reached out to grab his gun from the nightstand which he pointed at Gregory. The Blonde didn't move an inch and just kept on grinning, not afraid of the Mole's empty threats. "You pussy-licking piece of fucking sheet" he snarled as he threw Gregory over completely, pointing his gun to Gregory's forehead, "Arrogant British stupid beetch"
"Do you have any idea how funny your insults are, Christo-" Gregory began but mid-sentence Christophe shoved his gun into Gregory's mouth. Gregory still made a few noises but was completely unable to say anything intelligent and soon kept quiet as Christophe had already pulled the trigger of his gun and stared at him dangerously. He wouldn't shoot of course, but he still had to put some kind of pressure on Gregory to overpower him. Gregory knew it as well, Christophe wouldn't kill him like this. But this was their means of overpowering, aggressive and maybe a bit extreme. Gregory knew how it worked exactly, he should stay down at a certain breaking point, which happened to be now.
He pushed the gun further into Gregory's mouth, just to tease him. Gregory moaned softly in pain, it was far from comfortable to have thick piece of metal stuffed in your mouth. "You still zink it is funny now? Filzy pazetic ass'ole" Christophe snapped at him, eyes staring at Gregory like daggers. Gregory nearly looked back at Christophe, shutting his eyes slightly in pain. "'ow does that feel, a pistol shoved up in your oh-so-clean mouz, 'aving metal against your teez, tell mee, do you taste ze black powder? Oh, you can't tell me, can you? Wiz zat pistol zere" He said followed by a sadistic laugh. He knew he was getting carried away himself, and he let himself. Keeping the gun pushed in Gregory's mouth securely, he moved forward to kiss the blonde's neck. The gentle kiss soon turned into a bite though. Christophe wanted him, and wanted him now. The soft moans from deep inside the other's chest were turning him crazy.
The flesh of his neck tore. More moans. The taste of blood. Groans when he applied more pressure to the gun. The danger. The power. Lack of hands. He disposed of the gun. The only piece of Gregory's clothing went off. "Who's a cocksucker now?" surprisingly trembling voice. "Fuckeeng god." He was just as hard as Christophe himself. The god-like pale body. His. Scratches he himself made on the pale skin. A forced kiss. More blood.
They always brought their action to a higher extreme, let it be a fight or let it be sex, it was always more, better, worse, extremer, kinkier. Both man had developed a higher pain limit then normal people have, both man had seen more terrifying things than they should've. They could very well admit they were pretty sick in their minds. And this was just how they enjoyed it in the end.
Christophe got up a little, wanting nothing more but to get inside of him. Roughly he pulled up Gregory's legs. Willingly, Gregory wrapped his legs around Christophe, following his every movement. With a single smooth movement he slide his whole length into Gregory without any preparation at all. Being so hard already, he didn't really need any preparation with his fingers. This happened often enough for him to get used to it. They both groaned. Christophe loved it when Gregory lost all of his precious gentlemanly attitude, which just happened in two cases. One being when they did what they did right now, the second during missions, if bloodlust became too much for him as well. Which wasn't very often. It was always Christophe who would gladly punch all the life out of their enemies, rarely Gregory had to join in to help him, and even if he helped, he usually killed quick and clean. With some exciting exceptions. In those exceptions, you might better commit suicide right away if you were in Gregory's path.
"Mole" he groaned, a hoarse chuckle followed. Gregory clenched his hands to Christophe's back, clawing at his back, his only intention to hurt the other. "Make it quick," he continued as he tried to pull Christophe inside him using the grip of his legs. Christophe started to ramble out some French curses, something Gregory had gotten used to long ago, he began to pick up the pace, already close to coming. his vision was mostly blurred already. He held on to the more slender British boy as if his life would depend on it as he trusted deep inside of him. The sounds were amazing, slapping flash, moans of pleasure and pain, gasps and obscure whispers. With every thrust Gregory's dick rubbed against his muscled abdomen, pre-cum tickled down both his belly and Gregory's manhood.
It didn't take very long for Christophe to come. It was rough and raw, his length completely filling Gregory, his seed shooting deep, a load groan filled the room followed by Gregory's name. Christophe directly got out plopped down beside Gregory. Gregory impatiently grabbed his hand and guided Christophe to pull him off. Christophe hugged Gregory a bit and strongly pumped Gregory's dick and with a few movements Gregory already came within his hand, moaning the other's name loudly as his back arched. After regaining their breath's they started kissing again, softer this time as they had become tired.
"Oh, look at that, there's cum on the sheets" Christophe whispered in Gregory's ear with a playful tone.
Gregory just shook his head as he pulled the other closer. "Your shovel is in the bathroom, love" but Christophe didn't really care right now as he kept Gregory close.
"I was just busy protecting anozer important zing of mine" he whispered, closing his eyes peacefully.
