You Gregstophe lovers are adorable. Thank you for supporting this story :)

British awkwardness is here! Because Gregory's parents are in the States...

Parenting

After three nights of sleeping in Gregory's bed he had fully recovered. Much to his own chagrin. He had secretly loved sleeping in the same bed and he had a feeling Gregory had liked it too. Often he had woken up with the Englishman pressed against his back, their legs and arms entangled and a warm breath in his neck.

And once, Gregory's alarm had gone off and they had both jerked awake. Gregory on his back and Christophe curled up on his chest, arms around each other. Christophe had moved up and turned off the alarm. Their eyes had met. Gregory's blond hair all wild and curly from sleep, two buttons of his pajamas undone and he looked more ravaging and tempting than ever. Christophe had wanted to lean down, to kiss him, to press him into the mattress and have his way with him. But of course, Gregory had ruined the moment by saying he had to go to work. He had left soon after.

A good thing too, as Christophe had jerked off right then and there, in Gregory's bed. Coming within minutes as he pictured ripping those pajamas off of Gregory and pushing his legs open. He had made sure he had left no evidence from his moment of private pleasure. The Brit ever finding out would probably mean getting thrown out of the house but he couldn't control himself any longer. That same day he had moved back to his own room. Fully recovered and going back to work the next day.

Sleeping in his own bed was difficult to get used to again. No more warm body to secretly curl up against, or mumbled conversation about bangers and mash from the other pillow.

Tweek had agreed for him to work less hours, but that didn't prevent him from working long and very tiring shifts. After one that was particularly exhausting he came home, wanting to hang out with Gregory only to find that the blond wasn't at home. Perhaps he went out, it was Friday after all. Gregory's parents would drop by the next day and he probably needed a drink to handle that thought. Too bad he didn't want to have one with him. Christophe felt a bit rejected but just went straight to bed, he was really tired anyway.

It was the moan that awoke him. A loud, needy moan. Immediately he knew that couldn't be Gregory. His eyes flew open. And then he heard it again. Oh Lord, Gregory had taken someone home. He closed his eyes, willing to go back to sleep. But then the sound came again. And then, loud enough to be able to decipher through the wall:

"Oh, Greg that feels good!" Greg?

He hid his head under his pillow, trying to drown out the sounds. But the guy that was fucking Gregory, or more probably, getting fucked by Gregory was getting really loud. After the fifth 'Oh God, yes!' he decided he might as well get a beer. He got up and left his room. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and decided to just watch some late night television. In the living room he could still hear the sounds coming from the bedroom, though thank God, less loud than before.

He knew what was going on. The fact that his parents were coming over had made Gregory feel on edge. And now he was taking it out. By fucking someone he had probably picked up in a bar.

After his third beer he could finally hear the sounds stop. Soon after he heard a door open and some soft voices. Sure, now they could be silent. A mop of brown hair and one blond one passed the door from the living room quickly and he could hear them say goodbye. When the door opened and closed he decided to turn up the volume of the TV, letting Gregory know he wasn't still living on his own. He looked up from the TV screen and his eyes met Gregory's.

They were both silent.

Christophe knew he was radiating anger. He didn't get a lot of sleep either way and right now Gregory had kept him awake for 3 hours. The blond sure knew how to fuck a guy. And it was a bit ironic as it had been Gregory in the first place who had said that he should get more sleep either way.

Gregory was leaning against the door frame. Hair just a bit messy, face still flushed and in only his boxers. He had his arms crossed in an angry stance, as if he was daring Christophe to say anything about what just happened.

Christophe hated how Gregory looked right there: tired, messy, satisfied.

"So." He said. After they had been staring at each other for a good 5 minutes. "Who ze fuck was zat?"

"Bridon." Gregory said back. He appeared so arrogant, so satisfied with himself. It was practically screaming from his expression: Look at me: fucking a guy right next door to you.

Bridon? What kind of name was that anyway? Bridon? It wasn't even a name it was just a random collection of ugly sounds!

He put his beer down and turned the TV off.

"Good to know you had a good time, Greg." He snapped. He walked past Gregory, closing his door with a snap.

He stayed in bed for as long as possible, listening to Gregory cleaning their apartment. Normally he would help him with it. But right then he was just thoroughly pissed off at his roommate. And jealous, but he would never, ever let Gregory know that.

Around 4PM he finally left his room, he knew Gregory's parents were about to arrive at any moment now. He had opted to stay in his boxers and only threw on his ratty, old bathrobe. He lit a cigarette and just turned on the TV. The sound caught Gregory's attention, eyeing him warily.

"When are you getting dressed?" Somehow it didn't really sound like a question. It was a demand.

"Hm, I don't know. I don't really feel like getting dressed." He blew some smoke into the air. He knew it was putting Gregory on edge immensely. Christophe's annoying behavior was undoing any unwinding he may have accomplished the night before. The sound of the doorbell nearly made both of them jump. Gregory threw him one more look, indicating 'this isn't over yet!' before heading for the door. Christophe mused if he would still have time to grab a beer to complete the image of a filthy Frenchman before Gregory's parents came in. They were his spitting image. Both blond, tall and emitting an air of haughty sophistication. Gregory looked torn between anger and embarrassment as his parents saw Christophe sitting on the couch.

"Bonjour." Christophe said, shaking their hands but not getting up from the couch.

"I'll get you something to drink." Gregory let his parents into the kitchen and after a short while came back to whisper urgently in Christophe's face:

"You are getting dressed now!" Gregory hissed and for a moment Christophe wanted to actually get up and do just that. Gregory's authoritative tone left no room for discussion. But he managed to stay seated and reply dryly.

"Wouldn't count on eet."

"Look, I get it. You are angry at me for keeping you up tonight and I am sorry! But these are my parents! You are making a horrible expression like this and therefore so am I!"

"I really don't give a fuck."

"Christophe, please!" Gregory threw his hands up in despair. Christophe raised an eyebrow. Gregory never begged. And that uncharacteristic gesture did it.

"Fine!" He got up from the couch. "I'll get dressed and stuff."

"Okay." Gregory sighed in relief and ran a hand through his hair, messing up his perfect locks. Christophe was about to pass him on his way out but stopped when he was at level with him.

"Here." He raised his hand and smoothed Gregory's hair, so that it looked perfect again. Without a further word he went into his room. Inside he changed into his best clothes. He felt ridiculous, he looked like he was going up for a job interview. But he knew Gregory would appreciate it. He looked into the mirror and cleaned his face properly for once, ridding himself of all dirt and smudges. He might as well overdo it now he decided. He grabbed a comb and yanked it through his hair and then smoothed it down. He nearly scared himself when looking in the mirror. He looked impeccable, like some dark haired Gregory.

Three pairs of eyes went wide as he walked into the living room. He saw Gregory's mouth drop open as he sat down across from them. Gregory's eyes flew over his crisp outfit and slicked hair.

"So." Gregory's father started. "Not so much of a savage after all?" Gregory flushed an embarrassed red at his father's statement. But thankfully Gregory's mother interrupted before any other embarrassment could ensue.

"So, Christophe, what is it you do?"

"Ah, well. I'm still working at my old job at a the moment, but I'm looking for something else now." He looked at Gregory's parents. What were their names again? He had a hard time remembering. It was something British, something sophisticated.

"It must be tough looking for a new job in times like these." Gregory's mother said. And then it hit him: sophisticated like Victorian times. Victoria, right that was it. And his father was...Oh right, it sounded like Gregory's huge ego. Hugo.
They were both lovely people, genuinely interested to know how he was doing and like all the British people he had ever met: polite and just a bit uptight.

They continued to have some more slightly awkward conversation until dinner was ready. Gregory quickly sat the table and Christophe helped. They formed a strange harmony as they moved through the kitchen, somehow knowing what stuff to get and not getting any the other was already getting nor bumping into each other.

Dinner was exquisite, as always when Gregory cooked. Salmon, peas and potato wedges, everything was better than he had ever tasted it. They continued to make polite conversation during the meal.

"I can't wait to find out what you made for dessert." Victoria said when they were all nearly finished. Christophe could see Gregory shift uncomfortably.

"Ah, well.."

"Still not learned how to make desserts, Gregory?" Christophe slightly admired the way Gregory's parents could make him feel bad about himself, it was something he had a lot more trouble accomplishing. But right now he felt bad for him and in the spur of the moment he decided to help him out.

"No, 'e was just going to say zat I was going to make dessert."

"Really?" Hugo sounded surprised, as if he didn't think Christophe would be able to cook.

"Yes, really. It's a good thing you remind me of it. I'll start with it right away."

He left the table and quickly made way to the kitchen. He knew they had all the ingredients and the recipe was fairly simple, yet it always seemed to impress people. He put a bowl on the counter and started looking for the ingredients. He was just adding some eggs to the flour when Gregory came in.

"You didn't have to help me out."

"Who said I was doing it for you? I wanted a dessert as well." But they shared a secret smile between the two of them. Christophe turned back to his bowl, adding more ingredients.

"Anything I can help you with?"

"You can squeeze ze juice from ze lemons." He pointed to the lemons he had already put on the counter. "Just put it in a bowl." He started to mix the batter with a whisk. Gregory started squishing the lemons as Christophe put two pans on the stove, adding butter and then a spoonful of batter to the pan. That was when Gregory realized.

"You're making crepes!"

"You didn't realize?"

"No. You know I'm bad at desserts."

"Hm, so it would seem. Get some plates for me, please." Christophe was surprised when Gregory listened to him and did just that. He turned the crepes and took a look at the lemon juice. He deemed it enough and added some sugar to it, sweetening it up.

The crepes were ready and he put them on the plates, immediately putting new batter into the pans.

"See if we still have some ice cream?" And Gregory did. Christophe was still amazed at the way Gregory was allowing him to boss him around like that. He knew it had probably a lot to do with his parents being there and him needing them to like him and be awed by his life. He was just glad Christophe was helping him out. Gregory put some of the ice cream onto the crepes just as the new ones were finished. They prepared the plates together and took them into the living room.

"I'm sorry for ze wait, crepes are best served fresh and warm." Christophe said.

"Well, as a Frenchman you should know." Victoria said, but she was smiling in a friendly way, just as radiant as her son smiled.

"So, is there any special girl in your life right now?" She continued. Christophe snorted and took another bite.

"I'm afraid not. Not special girls at least." Gregory dropped his fork on his plate, his parents however seemed not to have heard it.

"No? Not a nice girl at your job perhaps? You are a charming young man after all."

"No, not really any I'm interested in."

"Oh, well maybe you can set Gregory up with a nice young lady from your work, he has been single for such a long time now."

"Mother…" Gregory sighed, coloring further.

"Hm, I'll see what I can do. Maybe zere's someone of 'is...type at my work." He locked eyes with Gregory and smirked at his obvious discomfort. But the conversation turned towards Gregory's work and Christophe could see how the blond was obviously relieved. He talked to his parents about his colleagues, his work activities, so on and so forth. Christophe knew all this already and just quietly left the table to do the dishes in the kitchen. He made them all some coffee and brought that to them. They drank and chatted some more, until Gregory's parents thought it was time to go.

He kissed Victoria on each cheek before turning to Hugo. He really liked Gregory's father, he mused. He looked just like his son, but he was taller and his hair darker. And he just grabbed him, pulling him in for a hug.

"Oh!" He heard Hugo say as he drew back.

Christophe was confused, Gregory looked mortified.

"What? Not okay?"

"Yes, uhm, but we only say goodbye to relatives like that."

"Ah, okay. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's fine." But he was blushing much in the same way Gregory blushed when he was touched in a way he felt was inappropriate and nice at the same time. He left them to put away the dishes so that they could say their goodbyes.

After he was done he sat down on the couch, propping his feet under him. He could still hear Gregory say goodbye to his parents at the front door. All three of them were politely debating how they were going to get home. Gregory insisted on taking them himself, saying that it was absolutely no trouble. His parents on the other hand said they didn't want to be a bother, that taking a taxi was fine. Christophe rolled his eyes at the British politeness and awkwardness. He had a feeling that this would take a while. He was correct, after 10 minutes Gregory came back into the living room, looking exhausted.

"Come here." Christophe gestured towards the couch. He sat back against the armrest and spread one of his legs onto the couch, letting the other one drop onto the floor. Gregory came closer but hesitated.

"How..?"

"I said: come here." He patted the space between his legs. Reluctantly, and very stiffly Gregory sat down. Christophe rolled his eyes and grabbed Gregory's shoulders with his hands, turning him so that his back was towards Christophe. Gregory took the hint and scooted back a bit, his feet on the couch. Christophe pulled Gregory's back against his chest.

"Relax." Christophe muttered as he felt the stiffness in Gregory's body. The hand on Gregory's right shoulder started to rub softly and he let his other hand slide into his hair. Gently he pulled his head back to rest on his shoulder. Gregory stiffened again, this time Christophe just had to say something about it.

"Stupid uptight Brits, not being able to handle physical contact." He grumbled as he continued to massage Gregory's tense shoulder. "I'm giving you a massage. I'm not raping you."

Gregory relaxed something and Christophe continued to comb his hair and softly rub circles into Gregory's shoulder. He saw Gregory close his eyes and sigh quietly. Christophe would never admit it out loud, but it felt great to touch Gregory's hair like this. It was soft and without any tangles in it, sliding easily between his fingers. He noticed how Gregory was really relaxing against him now, slumping against his chest. With his other hand he continued to softly dig his fingers into Gregory's shoulder, feeling the tense muscles slowly relax under his fingers. Another quiet sight sounded from the Englishman and for a moment he tensed up again. From the corner of his eye he could see Gregory's hand grab the fabric of his own jeans in a tight grip. Christophe frowned. Was Gregory getting uncomfortable at the physical contact again? They were doing so well!

But then another soft sigh sounded as Christophe combed Gregory's hair a bit firmer. He did it again and saw the hand tighten again. Then his gaze shifted and he noticed exactly why Gregory was tense. He was hard. His formal black jeans did nothing to hide the erection straining against it. The fact that he was making Gregory hard was intoxicating, even more so when he realized that all he was doing was touching his hair and his shoulders. This incredible hot blond guy was getting aroused by getting his hair combed. He had always known he was obsessed with his own hair, always looking after it to the extreme, but this was taking it really far. Christophe found that he thought it was cute. Boy, Brits really didn't know how to handle physical contact.

And the knowledge he was making Gregory hard over something so simple was making him nearly hard too. He was fighting down his own erection, which would be even harder to hide as it would have been pressed against Gregory's back. He knew Gregory was tense because he was afraid Christophe would notice and that he was torn between fighting his erection and giving in completely to Christophe's petting. Christophe found that he didn't want things to be awkward between the two of them. Even when the realization that he was making Gregory hard was something he would have to jack off to later. A lot. He slowed his movements, ending up just petting Gregory's hair lazily in the end. His hand on Gregory's shoulder left and he grabbed the remote. He turned the TV on and switched to a music channel with just some jazz on it, the volume low.

"Feel better now?" He whispered softly.

"Yes, thank you." His voice a bit deeper than normal. "And thank you too for being nice to my parents and making that dessert." Christophe snorted.

"You're welcome, though I'm pretty sure you would have killed me if I wouldn't have been nice to them."

"Maybe, yes. So are we okay now? Or are you still angry?"

"No, I'm not anymore. Are you?"

He kept his hand in Gregory's hair, not combing it but just resting it on Gregory's scalp, fingers threading between the soft strands.

"No, not anymore. Your dessert was really superb, that helped a lot too. I'm very bad at making those."

"Yeah, desserts is more something for the elegant French."

"Hm."

They just sat there in silent for a while. Christophe noted how Gregory was no longer aroused. He rested his head against Gregory's, just listening to the mellow music and Gregory's soft breathing.

The moment oddly perfect.