Stan was sat in the cafeteria the following lunch time. He was staring disdainfully at a cheese sandwich that really hadn't done anything wrong, and was in fact very tasty, offering him the energy and nutrients he needed. But Stan had no appetite, no desire to eat. He just kept thinking about Christophe and how off he had sounded. He needed to know if Christophe had been seeing Gregory or if he cancelled for someone else. He wanted it to be clear in his mind where they stood, and if he'd ever have a chance of a proper date. If he didn't, he was contemplating ending the deal - this longing for more was beginning to torture him and he didn't think it was fair to have sex with Christophe like that. Kenny had advised against it when Stan had spilled everything to him the previous night. Stan had to finally agree with him.
He looked to Kyle across the table from him; he was busy in a conversation with Kenny, and Cartman was joining in with that when he could. Their voices were raised and Kyle was frowning. Perhaps they were arguing? Stan was a little zoned out that he couldn't tell. Further across the tables he could see Butters and Tweek discussing something, with Craig, Clyde and Token nearby. There were all the girls, who always crowded together on a big table, a few boys interspersed between them.
He looked at Wendy, looked where she was looking; she was staring at Gregory with an angry look in her eyes. Gregory was sat alone, eating without looking at the food, eyes instead fixed on some work he must have been doing, or at least reading. The only time he looked away was to glance up at the clock. It was clear Wendy wanted Gregory to notice her for some reason - in Stan's experience it was so she could turn her head away, act angry, and remind him he'd done something wrong. If Gregory had seen Wendy, he was not at all fazed and ignoring her, because he had nothing to do with her anymore.
Stan stared at Gregory too now. Why was he alone? Where was Christophe? Sure, it wasn't unheard of for Christophe to miss a day of school, but combined with how he'd sounded on the phone, Stan had this terrible feeling that something was wrong with him. He couldn't ask Gregory though, not with how much they hated each other, and especially not with Wendy watching!
He turned to his left, to the person who was humming, bopping his head to a weird tune only found and enjoyed in the mind of Gary Harrison. Such a happy person and so comfortable in himself, he didn't care who heard. Stan tapped him on the shoulder.
"Gary, can you do me a really big favour? It's a really big one," Stan whispered, making sure no one else heard.
"What is it?" Gary whispered back, grinning like he enjoyed the secrecy.
"I'm asking a lot."
"So what are you asking?" Gary leaned closer to Stan.
"Can you talk to Gregory and find out where Christophe is and if he saw him last night?" Stan bit his lip. "I know it's a big favour."
"Hmm." Gary smiled. "I can try for you! I like Gregory."
"There's obviously something wrong with your brain, but thank you." Stan watched as Gary laughed and got up. He walked over to Gregory quickly and happily and sat down opposite him without saying a word. Stan loved the shocked look on Gregory's face, mixed with a little annoyance but covered by a need to be polite. He flicked his eyes away for a moment so that Gregory wouldn't know he was watching. He kept giving glances, but tried to make them look like he was giving them to Kyle. He could see Gary laughing, and even Gregory cracking a smile. Then Gary asked Gregory something and he frowned, shaking his head. He shrugged and his eyes swept over Gary, like he was studying him. Stan didn't know what to think so he just sat patiently waiting.
When Gary got up again and grinned a goodbye at Gregory, the Brit looked deep in thought. Gary walked back to Stan, but stopped to chat to Pip for just a few minutes. This helped actually because Stan was sure Gregory would be watching Gary. By the time Gary got back to him, Gregory had looked at the clock again and then jumped up, snatching his stuff together and throwing his lunch in the bin, before rushing off.
"So, what did he say?" Stan asked.
"He definitely didn't see Christophe last night," whispered Gary. "And he hasn't seen him today. Apparently Christophe is feeling ill." He frowned, a slightly miffed face appearing, as if he was struggling with something. "He was looking at me funny."
"I noticed that too. What do you think it was about?"
"I think... I think he knows Christophe's been acting differently lately - because of you - and then I start asking questions about him." Gary leaned in closer to Stan, and Stan noticed Kenny's eyes flick to them at this, almost as if he'd been secretly watching them the whole time and now was really desperate to know what they were whispering about. "Do you think Gregory's trying to find out which guy Christophe is seeing?"
"And he thinks it could be you?" asked Stan. A little amused smile broke onto his face. "He thinks you could be gay?"
"I know I'm not but he doesn't. It's not always easy to spot." Gary looked down at his food and picked an apple up, spinning it in his hand as he continued speaking. "I don't mind Gregory thinking that for now, but I'm not going to lie to him if he asks. I won't tell him about you, but if what you have with Christophe is serious then he's bound to find out. This is Gregory we're talking about."
"And he already knows I have a 'secret lover'," Stan sighed. "Though I'm not sure if that's true anymore."
"What?" Gary looked shocked. "I thought it was going well."
"We were going to the movies last night but he cancelled on me, because of Gregory. Only... Gregory says he didn't see him last night. And you believed his tone?"
"He was definitely telling the truth. I don't think he saw a reason not to." Gary took a bite of the apple and flicked his eyes to Kenny, who was still looking at them. Stan looked at Kenny too and smiled sadly. The blond smiled back like he was offering sympathy. These looks stopped when Kyle coughed loudly and asked if he was missing something. Stan quickly shook his head and went back to glaring at his sandwich, Kenny just shrugged, and Gary started humming.
When Kyle had rolled his eyes and got up from the table to go and talk to Bebe, Gary nudged Stan under the table and whispered quickly: "Go and see him." Stan's stomach twisted, but he agreed.
Stan took a deep breath and knocked on Christophe's door. It was later that day, as soon after school as he could manage. It had actually been excruciating to sit in the back of the car as Kyle drove straight past Christophe's house and on to Stan's, and not the be able to say anything about it or tell him to stop. He had stared longingly at the closed curtain of Christophe's bedroom window - a sign that he was sick? Perhaps... Whatever it was, Stan had walked back in the direction Kyle had driven him as soon as he was out of the car. And now he was there, waiting for the door to open...
He took a sigh of relief when the door opened, but this changed to a gasp of shock the second he saw the boy's face. It was such a lovely face: tanned skin, full lips, bright green eyes that usually looked so alive and clear. Those eyes didn't look that in this moment though. In this moment, one of those eyes was framed by a very dark, very prominent, black ring. Someone had hit Christophe and it immediately tore into Stan's heart. He found himself pushing the boy backwards and stepping into his house, closing the door. Christophe stared back at him with a look which must have tried to be cold and angry, but soon fell to sad and hurt. His eyes soon told Stan that he'd been hiding something.
"Christophe, what-" started Stan, but he was cut short. The French boy had grabbed him, pulled him close and kissed him forcefully. He pushed his tongue into Stan's mouth as he closed the door and held him against it. Stan's brain was a mixture of shock, confusion and desire. All he could do was tangle his fingers in Christophe's hair and kiss back. This rough treatment probably shouldn't be allowed to continue too far, not until he knew what was going on in the other boy's head.
Stan felt Christophe's hand snake under his shirt to stroke his chest and allowed it for just a little longer, kissing and groaning and holding tight. When he did finally push Christophe away, they were both panting and red-faced, staring at each other like they could hardly believe how out of control they'd become. Stan tried to speak again.
"What happened?"
"I was 'it," replied Christophe, turning and walking away to sit down on the sofa. He motioned for Stan to join him, giving a little reassuring smile. "Zat's all."
Stan narrowed his eyes and sat next to him, keeping enough distance, at least until he got some answers. "Do you feel like filling me in on a little more? Come on. Was this the reason you cancelled our d- ... plans last night?" Godammit; he kept slipping up on that word! "You weren't with Gregory."
"You actually asked Gregory zat?" Christophe raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, of sorts, yes. I was worried... And now it seems I have reason to be." He looked at Christophe's eyes again and felt such a twinge of fear and sadness. Did Christophe have a secret abusive boyfriend he wasn't telling anyone about? Had he gone out and gotten into a fight with a stranger for the fun of it? Had he been doing something else? Something illegal... Stan was really worried.
Christophe looked uncomfortable talking. "I... I don't... I'm not used to sharing..." He held out his hand and seemed to be being cautious as he entwined his fingers with Stan's. Stan felt a tug at his heart and squeezed Christophe's hand back, trying to show him that whatever he wanted to say, he could say it. "I wasn't even going to tell Gregory... but... you... I want to tell you."
Stan felt another skip in his heart. "Then do."
"Eet was my fazer. He was just passing through, visited. We got into an argument - fight - and zen 'e 'it me." Christophe looked on the edge of crying just from saying it, but he didn't. He held it in and took a deep breath. "Zen 'e left. Zen I cancelled our date." He looked away calmly from Stan then, his body language showing that he didn't want a hug, or for Stan to feel sorry for him, he just wanted him there.
Stan swallowed and squeezed Christophe's hand harder. Of course he was freaking out inside and wanted to wrap his arms tightly around Christophe and hold him close, but he didn't want to anger him; he wanted to do whatever the other boy wanted. A father hitting his own son was a terrible thing to happen at any time, but Stan felt especially worried by the way Christophe said it and the way he'd obviously tried to cover it up at first; it all felt like it had happened before. If that were the case, if Christophe's father really had hit him in the past, then he couldn't have been older than a child.
"Oh, Chris..." he whispered.
"Eh, eet's not ze first time," Christophe whispered back.
So Stan's guess had been correct. How heartbreaking. "Can I do anything to help you?" He felt a little helpless now, and had no idea what to do or say. He gently turned Christophe's face back towards him and didn't meet any resistance. He looked at the eye again and saw it would take a long time to heal: such a hard hit.
"You don't 'ave to. You can leave eef you want. I'll understand."
"No! I'm not doing that!" Stan frowned. "You've been alone all day, I want to stay with you."
"I don't want your pity," mumbled Christophe, pulling his face away from Stan's hand.
"Fine, I'm doing it for me. I want to stay because I want to see you, and be around your muscled body, and stroke it, and kiss you." Stan smirked and leaned forward, catching Christophe's lips in a surprise kiss and groaning slightly. "I'm being really selfish," he muttered against them. They both knew it was a lie, but they also knew that this was a way Christophe felt comfortable with reacting, and sure enough, he kissed back.
"You selfish bastard," he mumbled into Stan's lips. "You just want me for my lips. Zat's all I am to you - a human kissing and fucking machine."
"Mmmm, hell yeah." Stan pushed back on Christophe so he was on his back on the couch and Stan was laying on top. He continued the kiss, taking this as an excuse to run his hands through Christophe's hair and be close to him, and it felt great when Christophe wrapped his arms around Stan's back in turn. Now he felt like he was doing more comforting, and it felt better.
A little while later the kiss had finished. Stan had rested his head on Christophe's chest and they both had laid there in a peaceful silence. It was strange, there was so much that could have been said between them, feelings to reveal, but this silence felt like enough. Eventually Christophe spoke, with a small, soft plea:
"Please, no one else can know 'ow zis 'append. I don't want anyone's pity."
"Okay." Stan bit his lip and tilted his head up so he could see Christophe's face again - a much calmer one than before. "So what are you going to say."
"I don't know." Christophe smirked a little. "Maybe zat I fell out of a tree."
"Hmm, I don't think you have the skills for that."
"Oh, eet takes skill? Excuse me thinking you were just being an idiot."
"No. I was being a highly successful spy." Stan grinned and leaned closer to Christophe. "I always meant to do that."
"Oh?" Christophe leaned closer as well, until his forehead was resting against Stan's and their slow breath began to mingle (though this action alone meant that Stan's breathing and heart rate increased). Christophe spoke the words slower. "Why's zat?"
"So you could find me," Stan joked. He chuckled and pressed his lips against Christophe's, but Christophe froze, lips not responding, mouth staying firmly closed and stiffened. Stan pulled away in confusion. "What?"
"You."
Stan frowned. "W-What about me?"
"Do you have feelings for me zat aren't strictly casual?"
The heart was thumping really fast now, panic running through him and pulsing in his veins. Could this be the moment that ruined everything? Stan looked horrified. "I - uh - I... I...!" He started to sound increasingly desperate, the words not forming.
"Because I have feelings for you," continued Christophe in a beautiful sentence which may have just saved Stan a lot of stumbling and awkward excuses. His head span at this declaration. Could it be real? Christophe continued: "You're just so amazing, so cute. I think the reason we're so good together ees that you should be mine."
Stan stared in shock. "What are you saying?"
"I want you to be my boyfriend. You practically are now. We said not exclusive but zere's no one else I want to see and no one who makes me feel like you do. We have something. Why are we denying eet?" Stan's stomach fluttered and heart thumped. A blush spread deeper over his grinning face as he wrapped his arms tight around Christophe's neck, squashing him down. "So ees zat a yes?" Christophe asked as he wrapped his arms tight around Stan's back too.
"Yes!"
"We need a proper first date."
"Yes, we do!" agreed Stan.
"But zat can wait."
"Yes, it can!" Stan agreed with everything.
"For now, we should-" But Stan was already ahead of Christophe and he pushed their lips together as they fell into another long kiss.
Stan had stayed, they'd eaten and talked, laughing, kissing, hands never leaving each other's bodies for long. Their mouths seemed to find it a waste not to be glued together when they weren't eating or talking, or even when they were talking their sentences would get interrupted. They were both buzzing in a glow, a very distracting one. Christophe had found himself utterly distracted from thoughts of his father and what had happened.
It was sometime in the night, when he'd woken up groggy and dizzy, Stan's arm over his chest and warm breath near his neck. His vision was blurry and there was a salty taste in his mouth. He didn't realise until Stan woke up next to him and held him close in a knowing, comforting and sleepy way, that he was crying. Christophe was crying heavily, long tears and big sobs.
He lay his head on Stan's chest and sobbed through painful tears that ran down his cheek and neck, cold when some ran to the top of his chest. The other tears fell onto Stan's chest, which collected a little pool. Stan caught some of them with a tissue in his hand and unlimited patience. It was as if he'd been expecting it, because he was acting so perfect. When Christophe was done he felt exhausted and drained. Then sometime later he fell back asleep, still with Stan's arms holding him tight, like they were protecting him, and he let himself be protected.
It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.
