Disclaimer: South Park and all of its characters obviously don't belong to me. If it did, then there would be so much yaoi, it wouldn't even be funny.
For anyone reading this, I am SO SO SO sorry! I've just been having a really hectic time lately, getting ready to leave for college, and I did! I officially moved on campus on Sunday, and my best friend is my roommate, which is awesome!
Anyway, I know you guys don't want excuses, but I just wanted to let you know that it wasn't like I just stopped giving a fuck. Don't ever doubt that I am extremely grateful for the people who read this story, especially the ones who actually review.
Speaking of reviews, I wanted to give a long overdue shout out to ProudSpud, who reviewed quite a while ago. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it!
Anyway, this is the M part of the story, and I'm kinda nervous about it. This is the hardest chapter for me to upload, but here it is. Hope you enjoy!
**OCD**
Chapter Three: Desires exposed
Kyle wasn't sure what was happening, but –
No, he did know what was happening. Christophe had him pinned down on his bed with Kyle's legs around his hips, and was currently attached to the redhead's neck.
Kyle stared blindly at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, moaning as their hips rocked together time and time again. His hand was threaded through Christophe's hair, tightening when the latter got particularly rough.
He knew what was happening. . .
But how did it happen?
**OCD**
Kyle pulled up to The DeLorne household, wishing his heart would stop its erratic thumping.
It's just Christophe, he thought to himself. You see him every day, it's no big thing.
Getting out of the car, he hurried to get to front door, sick of the cold already. He knocked on the door.
Three quick knocks.
Two spaced out knocks.
Three bangs with his fist.
The door swung open, presenting Christophe, as formidable as ever. He made an inviting gesture, stepping aside to let Kyle pass.
Walking into the living room, Kyle spotted Kenny sitting upside down on the couch, his legs hanging over the back. Moving over to the blonde, Kyle yanked his foot, gaining his attention.
Kenny's face lit up, and Kyle couldn't help but smile back; his friend was always so lively, and that was something Kyle loved to see. He flipped around and, next thing Kyle knew, Kenny had thrown his arms around him, burrowing his face into the redhead's neck.
"Kylie! Sup, babe?" he asked, letting Kyle go.
"Here to pick you up, dude. You said you'd be ready at 7:00; it's 7:0. . . 9," Kyle said, glancing at his watch.
Kenny's face was blank for a moment, then his eyes lit up, understanding dawning.
"Oh yeah," he exclaimed, jumping up to put on his shoes and throw his jacket on. Hurrying to get ready, he said, "I meant to call you; I have to go to Stan's to talk about something really important. It's a good thing you came, though, 'cause Chris has gotta talk to you. Don't ask me, super important, though. Anyway, love ya, bye," he rushed out, pecking Kyle's cheek as he flipped up his hood, practically running out the door.
Kyle stood there, lost as to why Kenny left as he did. Shrugging, he turned to find Christophe studying him, some unidentifiable emotion in his eyes. Kyle could get lost in those eyes. . .
Shaking his head firmly, Kyle asked, "So what did you want to talk about?"
"Why zon't we go up to my room? We will be more comforzable zere," the Frenchman said, starting his way up the stairs.
Entering Christophe's room, Kyle saw that he was already sitting on the edge of the bed, so Kyle made his way to sit next to him. He looked at Christophe, only to find him already staring at him, which made Kyle wonder what he could possibly want to talk to him about.
Whatever Christophe was looking for, he apparently found, because he seemed to steel himself.
"Since ze day we met, ze day zat I died in your arms, I have felt zat we could be more zan we are. I admire you; ze way you handle yourzelf in tough zituations, ze strength you hold in your body, zough you are very small. And do not take offense at zat; I love your body. Your fiery red hair, ze sparkling emerald eyes, and ze beautiful smile you show me every day. I had planned for zings to go much differently, but zen you started dating zat little beetch you call a boyfriend!" Shaking his head, Christophe's tone softened again, "What I am zaying is. . .I love you and want to be wiz you."
Christophe sat back with a sigh, analyzing Kyle.
Kyle didn't know what to think, other than. . .hell yeah!
He'd always felt a special connection to the French boy, and that connection only strengthened after Christophe started coming to school, therefore joining their little group. He'd always felt on edge around him, wondering why he was the only one to make his heart jump.
Then Kyle realized that he was gay, and that changed everything.
He realized that the unease he felt around Christophe was attraction, maybe something more, but was never able to do anything about it. Even if the mercenary wasn't incredibly psychotic and prone to violence, he was one of Kyle's best friends and he didn't want to lose him if he didn't return his feelings.
So he buried his feelings, and moved on.
Or tried to, at least.
Kevin was a nice guy, maybe a little too plain, but nice all the same. The thing was, he wasn't Christophe. His hair was too rough, his voice too smooth, and touches too gentle. He was all wrong, but Kyle couldn't have what he really wanted, or so he thought.
Because Christophe had just told Kyle that he could've had what he wanted most in the entire world. He could have had him all along.
With that last thought running through his mind, Kyle threw himself at Christophe, throwing his arms around the other boy's neck.
Christophe's reaction was instantaneous, one arm wrapping around Kyle's waist, tongue pressing insistently against Kyle's lips, gaining access quickly.
Kyle moaned, letting out a small sound of surprise as he fell back, Christophe leaning over him, a smirk on his face.
"Zis ez only ze beginning," he whispered as he lowered himself down onto Kyle.
**OCD**
Oh yeah, Kyle thought. That's what happened.
All coherent thoughts were lost as Christophe started grinding into him, making his blood boil and his mind go hazy.
I don't care how we got here, I just don't want it to stop.
**OCD**
Christophe might have been moving a little too fast, but he'd wanted Kyle for so long that he could barely control himself.
Releasing the skin between his teeth, Christophe raised his head, proud of the dark marks on the little redhead's neck.
Now let's see zat little beetch claim Broflovski, Christophe thought as he stared at Kyle's face.
He was such a beauty that it froze Christophe for a moment. Kyle's shirt had risen (with a little help from Christophe) and showed a wide band of pale, creamy flesh, daring Christophe to move lower. The Jew's throat was littered with hickeys, with no hope of being able to hide them (except with maybe a large scarf, though Christophe would not allow it). And, last but not least, his face. That beautiful, innocent face.
It was the worst of all.
His cheeks carried a rosy blush, making his freckles stand out even more, and his lips were plump (even more so than usual) from the heated kisses that they'd shared before Christophe attacked his neck. His hair was strewn about, glaring red waves having grown longer over the years. And his eyes. . .
Kyle's eyes, those half-lidded, shimmering, emerald eyes, were just begging for Christophe to fuck him.
His little lover didn't have to beg; he'd give him everything he wanted.
**OCD**
Kevin strolled down Stan's driveway, making his way towards Christophe's house. . .
. . . Or so he hoped.
He'd only been to the other boy's house once, and that was when Kyle had to drop him off after school when he wasn't feeling well, otherwise he would've driven his motorcycle.
Kevin shook his head at the stupid thought of someone driving a motorcycle to school.
Who'd want a guy like that?
**OCD**
Christophe ran his hands over Kyle's thighs, grabbing them firmly to get Kyle's attention. Making sure that Kyle was listening to him, Christophe said, "Turn over."
Kyle slowly flipped over onto his stomach, starting a little when Christophe grabbed his hips, sliding him onto his knees. Not wanting to be face down in the blankets, Kyle brought his hands shoulder width apart, holding himself up.
Christophe, seeing that the boy was in the perfect position for what he was planning, got up to retrieve something vital. Patting Kyle on the ass, he left the bed, going over to his bedside table, finding what he was looking for quickly. Before walking back to the bed, he closed the door.
Climbing behind Kyle, Christophe stared at wonderful sight before him. Kyle's thighs were spread wide, giving him a peek at the tight, little rosebud that sat between spread apart cheeks. Christophe rubbed Kyle's ass, massaging the globes in both palms.
Reaching down, he opened the bottle, squeezing the clear liquid into his palm. Dropping the bottle next to him (for quick access later on), Christophe slicked his fingers up, making sure he could thoroughly prepare his lover as painlessly as possible.
Spreading his cheeks, Christophe rubbed his finger insistently around Kyle's hole, slowly slipping it inside. He felt Kyle flinch, saw him squirm in discomfort, but saw no pain, so continued fingering him open. He soon added another digit, amazed at the burning tightness. He wiggled them deep, curving them, turning them, searching, until he found –
Kyle cried out, a high-pitched moan leaving his mouth. Christophe smirked as Kyle shuddered, pushing back against the fingers still embedded in his ass.
– That. Until he found that.
Christophe thrust his fingers against the bundle of nerves inside of his lover, reveling in his moans, his cries, his whimpers, his whines. Every sound shot to his cock, making him harder than he'd ever been.
He couldn't wait any longer.
Drawing his fingers out of Kyle, Christophe squeezed the lubricant on his cock, completely coating it in the slick fluid, stroking himself.
Using both of his hands, he rubbed the lube between Kyle's cheeks, spreading it on and around Kyle's entrance. Listening to Kyle's moans, Christophe decided that he wouldn't make him wait any longer.
Taking his length in hand, Christophe lined up with Kyle's asshole. . .
And pushed.
**OCD**
Kevin was just starting to worry that he'd made a mistake and gotten lost, when he spotted Kyle's car in a driveway.
Correctly assuming that the house was Christophe's, Kevin sped up a little, regretting the decision to walk.
**OCD**
Hearing the redhead's sexy whimpers just made Christophe thrust faster, tilting his hips to strike Kyle's prostate with every hit.
A high keening started coming from the younger boy, a signal that he was close to cumming.
Christophe was almost there, all he needed was a little push.
**OCD**
Kevin knocked on the door.
After waiting a few seconds, he knocked again.
That's weird, he thought. I know he's here, his car's here.
Trying the doorknob, he was surprised to find the door unlocked.
He walked inside.
Not seeing anyone downstairs, he started to leave but heard something weird.
He started up the stairs, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach.
Reaching the landing, he heard high-pitched moans coming from behind a door.
Kyle wouldn't. He doesn't like him, he hasn't shown any interest in him, Kevin tried to convince himself as he made himself reach for the doorknob.
Already knowing, deep inside, what he was going to find behind the door, he opened it.
And regretted it instantly.
Kyle was bent over, ass up, face buried in his arms, crying out as he was fucked from behind.
And who was doing said fucking?
Why, Christophe, of course.
He stood on his knees behind the frantic redhead, hands gripping his waist tightly, yanking him back as he thrust forward, their meeting thighs making a smacking sound that would haunt Kevin.
He was sure of it.
Kevin wasn't sure how long he was standing there, frozen in. . . shock? Disbelief?
He wasn't expecting to come to Christophe's house tonight.
He wasn't expecting to find them in bed together.
He wasn't expecting it to be Christophe (if anyone, he would've guessed Kenny).
But what he really wasn't expecting was for Christophe, in the middle of fucking Kevin's boyfriend, to look up at him and smile.
No, not a smile; the expression on Christophe's face could never be in the same category as a smile. He wore a filthy smirk, full of cruel intentions and lust, superiority and triumph. It's like he was saying, "This is exactly what I wanted to happen. I won, and you lose."
And he never stopped.
Throughout their eye contact, he didn't look away, he didn't let Kyle know that his boyfriend was watching him get fucked into next week, and he didn't stop.
In fact, he seemed to go even harder and faster, as if to rub it in his face that he had something that Kevin never would.
And Kevin knew it was over, because Kyle suddenly started these little gasps, rocking back against the other's hips, and when he came, he let out a sharp cry of the Frenchman's name.
In that cry, Kevin could hear a lot.
He heard a frenzied lust, a loss of control, and many other things. But among those was one that he couldn't ignore, and that was love.
Christophe finally tore his eyes away from Kevin (releasing him from the horror he was witnessing), focusing completely on the boy in front of him, chasing his orgasm with a determination unheard of.
As Christophe shouted out his completion, Kevin turned around, walking down the steps in a trance.
He left the house.
He passed Kyle's car.
And he made his way home
**OCD**
AN: Okay. . . how'd I do? I'm afraid to even ask that question, with that being my first kinda sex scene that I've ever fully written. It flowed while I wrote it, but it might not be all that. Let me know what you thought! Also, let me know if I overdid it with Christophe's accent; I had some trouble, and then I started looking at it funny. . . Anyway, make sure to review!
P.S: Last chapter should be up by Friday!