ⱴɨⱴɑ Ɫɑ ʀɛʂɨʂʈɑɳcɛ [Yaoi SP One-on-One]

[x X Zombiecest X x]

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Gregory looked at his lover and nodded when Christophe left, biting his lower lip as he started to pack, throwing his and Christophe’s things in a suitcase but leaving enough out for a carry-on bag for the two of them. He heard the cops downstairs and Christophe’s voice, which sounded like the ‘husband’ voice the other man had begun to assume when they played house, only deeper and more grown-up. It sent shivers down his spine and Gregory knelt down, trying to hear it through the floor.

He continued packing, idly folding clothes as he listened to his lover speak to the cops. They were going to be playing house for real eventually and Gregory couldn’t help but grin at this realization. He could see it now, and admittedly the idea of Christophe dressed like Indiana Jones was an arousing one, to say the least. He finished packing their clothes and straightened up when Christophe entered the room, turning to look at the man steadily before walking over and sliding his arms around the other man’s neck, pulling him down into a deep, meaningful kiss.

He broke it off after a moment and spoke, his voice soft as he pressed his hips against his lover’s, slipping a hand down and sliding it in the back of Christophe’s trousers, a light smirk crossing his face. “You have no idea how much it turns me on for you to pretend to be my father, Christophe. To hear you talking with that voice and to see you looking like this... You have no idea.”

Greg turned away from Christophe to pick up the suitcase then, bending over purposefully in front of his lover. He knew they probably needed to get moving soon, but that didn’t change the fact that he felt like teasing his lover to the brink of erotic insanity. He was going to be on a plane with this man for hours upon hours and now that his mom would be coming, there would be no sudden dashes to the bathroom to ******** like rabbits whenever they happened to get horny.

He set the bags on the bed and turned, looking at Christophe before wrapping his arms around the other’s neck and leaning up, kissing him slowly on the lips and murmuring, “So now you’re playing my Papa again, hm? How are we going to play, this, my love? I know we’re both going to be horny on the plane… Hell, I’m horny right now. Seeing you like this makes me hot all over. I love you so much more than anything else in the world, and I want you… think we can pull off a little incest on the airplane? Or are we going to pretend your mother is my mother-in-law or something?”


[------]


Kenny slid his hand down to grasp one of Kyle’s when the other put his arms around his waist, looking down at their entwined hands and realizing the extent of what this meant. He had Kyle back in his life, and the redhead didn’t hate him. Love and happiness swelled up in his chest and he bit his lower lip, squeezing Kyle’s hand tightly. At the Jew’s question he grinned, turning around and tilting Kyle’s head back, stealing another kiss or two as he looked at the other man, unable to keep himself from grinning like he had just been made president. “Right now, at this exact moment in time, I’m thinking that I’m goddamn lucky that I have you back in my life, because I was getting sick and tired of jacking off to a picture of you when Kevin wasn’t around. I’m thinking that I’m the luckiest person on earth, because if I didn’t die every day, I wouldn’t have you right here in my kitchen, sharing my immortality and about to eat a good, healthy dinner that’ll put some meat on your bones. I’m thinking that I missed you so goddamn much, Ky, and I don’t care who ******** knows it, but these past few years have been hell and now it’s like the sun is coming up.”

He hugged the smaller man tightly, kissing him on the lips again as he ran a hand through the red hair that he loved so goddamn much. There was nothing that could describe the feeling he had at the moment. It felt like his heart was going to burst with love and affection because the only family that had ever mattered to him, Kevin and Kyle, were in one house again and they could begin their ‘Three’s Company’ act all over again.

Kenny loved it the most. He loved it when Kyle had fallen asleep curled up on Kenny’s chest, Kevin’s arms around the both of them. He had been teased all through high school for ******** Kevin, and then Kyle and him had hooked up and Kyle hadn’t freaked out when Kenny proposed the idea of maybe taking both the McCormick boys as lovers. They were living in an apartment together by then, all three of them, and Karen had gotten married straight out of high school to Clyde Donovan, who was dumb as nails but was some big-time NFL quarterback or something like that, and their parents… Ken hadn’t talked to them in years.

His family was, and was always going to be, Kevin and Kyle. His brother was brushed off most of the time for being below average intelligence, but he was sweet and he knew what he was doing around the house, except for the fact that he couldn’t cook to save his life. He was loyal and he would protect Kyle or Kenny with his life if it came down to it. Although Kenny knew he loved Kyle more, Kevin was an integral part of their relationship.

The blonde man tilted Kyle’s head up again, pulling him into a deep kiss before pulling away and grinning at him proudly, smacking him on the a** lightly, playfully, not in the aggressive, pseudo-abusive way Cartman did it. He turned away again, taking the fried chicken from the pan and plating it separately before piling some salad on the plates and grabbing three beers, kicking the fridge closed and grinning at Kyle before leading the redhead upstairs.

Kevin was already sitting in the king-sized bed they shared; they hadn’t bothered down-sizing when Kyle had left because Kevin insisted on it. Kenny let Kyle slide into the middle before getting in on the other side, handing Kyle his plate and a beer before tossing one of the remaining beers to Kevin, who caught it easily and kissed Kyle on the cheek before going back to his dinner.

Kenny set his plate on the nightstand momentarily before grabbing remote control for the TV mounted on the wall, turning it on and flipping to ESPN before clinking the neck of his beer bottle against Kyle’s. “Cheers, doll.”

The man looked down suddenly and groaned when he realized he was still covered in blood, slipping off the bed and stripping to his boxers, tossing the other clothes into the laundry hamper and licking his lips as he slid back into bed, finally beginning to eat his dinner, feeling entirely at peace for the first time in a while.

[TheTweek]

「「 k y l e xxx c h r i s 」」 xxx

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Christophe adjusted his collar slightly, unable to help but let his eyes follow Gregory's every movement. It sure seemed like the other man was getting his way at last with this dress-up ordeal, but on the other hand, Christophe had zero complaints on the matter. Watching his lover bend over like a temptress or something, he finally forced himself to tear his eyes away, only to flicker his visions back on the other's rump now and then before holding his nose and taking a deep breath as he tried to collect himself.

He made a soft noise in his throat as the other male pulled him into a kiss, kissing him back with his arms laced around the crossdresser's waist as he held their body's together. He opened his eyes slightly to search Gregory's with interest at his statements, smirking evilly.

"You make me worry zat I may lose you to an oldair man, mon cher," he purred, releasing Greg as he turned away again to bend over and attend to his things.

A dark smirk flickered over his features at his lover's enquiries to how they were going to work things out on the plane. God, Gregory was such a horny b*****d, Christophe was almost shocked he could function getting off so many times in a day. Either way, interest prickling in his eyes, he gave the other male's rump a firm, cheeky squeeze before turning away and clicking a suit shut.

"We'll do neizair. You'll jus' have to be a good, chastized girl until we get to America," he said coolly, anticipating Gregory's reaction with his back turned as he began to pack another case with his smirk still glorifying his expression.


----


Kyle could have cried all over as he listened to what Kenny said, gladly accepting his kisses and feeling so full and happy that dying right then might have been okay, as long as Kenny stopped into hell once in a while.

Now, eased between the two McCormick brothers comfortably, he smiled and looked at Kevin, offering him a kiss back before turning and leaning slightly on Kenny as he settled into bed on his left. He blinked at the television as he ate quietly with his beer resting against his thigh; you just couldn't live in South Park if you didn't have a taste for the s**t, it was like a rule. He had other preferences of course, but drank it as casually as anyone else. Cartman's house had been a more strictly wine environment when it was just the two of them, something about keeping the family bonds or some crazy s**t like that, but Cartman drank as freely with any of his friends as Kyle was now.

His eyes shadowed slightly as he realized that most of his creative thinking led back to Cartman, and he tried to pull himself together, keeping his head in the game on TV and on the two warm bodies pressed to either side of him. He ate contently, blinking and then glancing up at Kenny with some of his old personality back in his face.

"Dude... this is really good... and really familiar. Is this one of my recipes? Or did you Tweak it or something?" he asked, prodding about at the chicken and then taking another bite before popping his beer and taking a drink as he glanced at Kevin. He looked so enticed with the television, it really made him smile as he continued to rest his head against Kenny's shoulder. He felt so much safer, just being there, and that was enough to shove his four years of history out of his head. "You know... I think this is the best day of my life. I think that this, right now, is the happiest I've ever felt. And I have both of you to thank for that."

He paused, glancing up at Kenny as he sifted out of bed to kick off a few layers. A mischievous smirk popped onto his lips as he raised his beer. "No, wait..." he pressed the chilled bottom of his bottle against Kenny's n****e cruelly and then laughed. "There, now everything's perfect," he said with a grin, dropping back against the headboard again and taking another sip before looping one arm with Kevin's appreciatively.

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[x X Zombiecest X x]

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Gregory arched an eyebrow at Christophe’s comment and smirked, leaning forward and ghosting his lips over the back of the other man’s neck. He spoke, his voice barely above a murmur. “If I’m a good girl on the plane, Christophe, then I’m going to be a good girl when we set foot on American soil. Imagine, having to play this game every single day, having to look at me in front of you all the time and never getting any. Is that the game you want to play, baby?”

He lifted his suitcase and slid around in front of his lover, looking at him and smirking, placing a soft kiss on his jaw. “I guess playing father-daughter for the rest of our lives isn’t that terrible of a prospect. I mean, I get to look at you dressed like this, with your hair like that, and you get to eye me like this…” He shrugged, smiling. “So, we’re both all right with no sex for the rest of our lives? All right. See you downstairs, love.”

The blonde turned, lifting their carry-on bag easily and walking out of the room, making his way downstairs and setting the bags near the door before turning to Christophe’s mom, looking at her for a few moments and thinking, leaning against the wall.

His own parents had been distant and far-off; high society types who had ignored their only son and deigned to leave him with nannies and caretakers. He couldn’t remember their faces in the slightest, and it had been when he was a child when his head nanny had moved to South Park and brought him along with her. He had lived with her for the longest time, leaving sporadically in order to go back to England for ‘training’, which had to have been some manner of child abuse.

At the age of sixteen he had been given a choice: get married to a woman of high society or go live in South Park on his own, with his parents giving him a generous allowance each month. He had known he loved Christophe by that point in time so he had picked South Park. He hadn’t seen his parents in the fourteen years since then, and once he had moved back to England and joined the military, the funding stopped entirely.

Mrs. DeLorne had always been more of a real mother to him than his actual mother had been; he had spent days over at her house as a child and even when living on his own, if Christophe wasn’t at his apartment for extended periods of time, he was at the DeLorne’s house, the older woman shoving food in his mouth or sharing recipes with Gregory, who had been made to cook for himself for a long time.

Greg spoke, his voice soft. “Mrs. DeLorne? May I call you mom?”


[------]


Kenny nodded, looking at the redhead at his side before his eyes flickered back to the basketball game playing on ESPN. “All my recipes are your old recipes…” He hissed slightly when Kyle iced his n****e, leaning over and pinching Kyle’s side before taking his plate, setting it on the nightstand with his own and pouting at Kevin. “Kevin, babe, can you kiss it better?”

Kevin smiled and leaned over Kyle, pressing his lips to his little brother’s chest and starting to a few not so appropriate things with his mouth. Kenny grinned and ran a hand through Kevin’s hair before leaning over, nibbling on Kyle’s ear softly and slipping a hand down to massage the redhead’s thigh. He spoke, his voice sultry and flirtatious. “Maybe I lied about not having sex. Maybe, you know, me and Kevin have missed you way too much to be able to sleep in the same bed with you without at least feelin’ you up a little. Maybe we love you too damn much to ever let you get away from us again.”

Kevin, who had slid across Kyle to kiss his brother’s neck, now perched on Kenny’s lap, put a hand on Kyle’s cheek, looking at him for a few moments before pulling him forward into a soft kiss. “I missed you, Kyle.”

Kenny shifted slightly even though Kevin pretty much had him pinned to the bed. “You don’t have to do it, but I think we’d both like you to. Welcome you back to the family… make you forget about him, okay?”

Kenny wanted to reclaim Kyle as his. He wanted to bring him back into what they had been doing before, and his way of looking at it was that if they ******** Kyle, then he was no longer in any way shape or form Cartman’s. He pulled Kyle closer and kissed him right after Kevin did, pulling back and resting their foreheads together before grinning. “Sides, I missed that a** of yours.”

[TheTweek]

「「 k y l e xxx c h r i s 」」 xxx

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Christophe stared after his lover before sulking. "Good zing you aren't really a girl, zen, oui?" he called after him then, smirking slightly and continuing to pack the rest of their things.

Christophe's mother glanced up as he entered the kitchen where she was organizing for their departure, staring at him a moment. She clucked her tongue and grabbed him by the sides of the head like she did Christophe all the time and shook her head. "Non, you stupeed boy. You will call me Mama," she said, kissing him on the forehead then and releasing him as she turned to continue what she was doing. "You take good care of my son. You know what a trouble makair 'e eez. Zat stupeed leetle sheet..." she muttered, shaking her head and massaging her temples as Christophe could be heard coming down the stairs.

He looked at them both, raising an eyebrow as though he was suspicious of being talked about before plugging their belongings down by the door. He peeked out the front window with care, glancing about for anyone suspicious-looking or for the cruiser that had pulled up earlier. Seeing no sign of either of these things, he turned then to consult the two 'ladies' behind him, placing his hand on his hip as he lit a cigarette.

He was on his fourth cigarette by the time they reached the airport, to which going through customs was a difficulty as always, what with Christophe and his shovel. His mom promptly attempted to beat him with it after which only resulted in them getting stalled a further ten minutes as security tried to stop her, and they just barely made their plane.

The older woman was slumped into her seat and snorting obnoxiously, a habit that Christophe was thankful beyond all relief that he hadn't gotten too badly. Some heavy breathing, some grunting and groaning maybe, but he was almost sure she could kill an animal with her snore. Staring at her for an extensive period of time before he turned to his lover, looking the 'girl' over in 'her' dress, his eyes flickered to the surrounding passengers thoughtfully. Thus far, he hadn't made any particular move to make it obvious that they were funky, but it was making the french man antsy to be so out of contact for so long.

He felt foolish. He was like an attention-needing puppy or something, and he hated what Gregory turned him into, but it couldn't be helped. He stared at the other male for a longer period of time before finally raising an arm and draping it around the blond's shoulders comfortably, pulling him against his chest and kissing him atop the head soundly in the least suspicious of ways, but it made him feel better, at least, as he flipped open a book, glancing at the pages from behind his fake reading glasses.

"Only two hours til we settle," he said pointedly, not bothering with the German accent in his undertone. No one was sitting near enough for him to be heard or interrogated - he was pretty sure no one cared, either. "You zink zat you'll be able to make eet?" he teased with a wolfish grin.


----


Kyle squeaked something awkward as he was pinched, known to be ticklish in all the worst places. Cupping his hands to his sides to prevent a second round, he acknowledge how gay they were as they leaned over eachother and made different types of contact that was totally untypical to the usual of three guys sitting together with beers watching a basketball game. The entire aspect made him laugh slightly, and he smirked a bit at Kenny and Kevin as they got closer, taking another swig of beer.

He let loose a soft noise as Kenny orally attacked his ear, a hand sliding down to entwine with Kenny's on his thigh and lifting it to his mouth to kiss his fingers gently. He smirked at the suggestion, not against it in the least. "Maybe I love you both too much to ever even consider leaving again," he replied keenly, turning and meeting Kevin's lips with his own fondly as he kissed him back in full.

"I missed you, too, Kevin. Now you won't be so lonely around the house when Kenny's not home." He smiled at him before turning to Kenny, kissing him back as well with a bit more force as he refreshed his memory with the other's taste. It was so funny, like they were experimenting teenagers in the back room of a party or something. Setting his plate and beer on the side table, he sat up a bit better to strip off his shirt and throw it to the floor, instead squeezing contently in between Kevin in Kenny as he joined Kev on Ken's lap, wiggling his a** about flirtatiously.

"Oh, it missed you, too, Ken," he teased with a sultry tone, turning to the side slightly in order to run a hand up and down each of their chests respectively, as though doing so brought back some resourceful memories. Feeling mischievous and content, he looked between them again before kissing Kevin slowly, and breaking away to kiss Kenny again, sliding his lips down from his mouth to his neck and grinding back against Kevin slowly.

"I thought about you guys all the time..." he murmured against Kenny's skin. Of course it was mostly Kenny in his fantasies when he demanded Cartman do him against a wall, but sometimes Kevin snuck in there, too. They were both great lovers, and that was maybe what made it so spectacular that he got the both of them... now whenever he wanted. "I feel so stupid for ever going... but I was just so mad, dude. I'm sorry," he said quietly, sinking his teeth into Kenny's shoulder but not hard enough to leave a mark as he dipped a hand into each of Kenny's boxers and Kevin's pants.

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[x X Zombiecest X x]

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Gregory was sitting quietly, looking out the plane window and playing the good ‘girl’, looking entirely inconspicuous despite the fact that several men on the plane were looking at ‘her’ with lust in their eyes. He had to admit, he rather liked the attention, and he was grateful that Christophe hadn’t exactly noticed the way that teenage boys were staring at his ‘daughter’. It kind of turned him on, to say the least, but at least the dress he was wearing wasn’t extremely tight.

Christophe caught him and kissed his head and Gregory rested his head against the other man’s shoulder, smirking slightly at his question. “I am entirely sure I can make it, Christophe,” the blonde murmured, his voice hardly above a whisper as he slid a hand nonchalantly down towards the other’s thigh.

He squeezed lightly, turning his head only slightly in order to discreetly nibble on Christophe’s neck, just above the jugular. He could feel his lover’s pulse just under the skin and needless to say it was amazing. He loved how Chris looked, he loved how he felt, he loved how he tasted… he couldn’t get enough of Christophe.

He smirked, licking his ‘father’s’ neck slowly, fully aware of the boy three rows down, who was ogling them like he was watching his first porno. Gregory spoke, keeping his voice that same sultry, low tone as he communicated with his lover. “Can you keep it in your pants for that long, though? I saw the way you were staring at me… You want me badly, hm?”

He loved it.

He loved that Christophe loved him, and that he could seemingly get away with so much regarding their relationship. He adored the other man more than anything, and it was so fantastic that he could just string him along like this without fear of being dumped, because he knew that if Chris ever did actually dump him, he would come crawling back five seconds later.

There was a reason he had been commander.

Gregory loved being in charge.


[------]


Kenny shook his head, running a hand through Kyle’s auburn hair gently as the boy slid a hand in his boxers. “It’s fine. We both ******** up, Ky, way too much, and we both paid for what we did, you know? But we’ve got each other back, and it’s just the three of us again, like it was when we were younger, and that’s all we’ll ever need. After this whole thing with England blows over, I’ll retire from the military. They still have to pay me because technically I’m a wounded veteran, so we’ll have enough money to live off of for a long time. ‘Sides, Karen sends us stuff all the time because Clyde’s all rich or whatever, so we’ll be good. You won’t have a reason for leaving again.”

Kevin kissed at Kyle’s neck softly, murmuring, “Can we hurry up an’ do it? I’ve missed Kyle too much to sit here talkin’ when we could be ********]

Kenny grinned and pushed Kevin’s head lightly, sticking his tongue out at him. “Jeez, Kev, you act like you never get laid.”

Kevin looked at Kyle, looked back at Kenny, and then smiled. “Kyle’s better.”

Kenny rolled his eyes and dragged Kyle into a kiss readjusting him on his lap as Kevin pressed himself against the Jewish boy, unashamedly discarding his sweatpants on the floor and running his tongue down Kyle’s neck as the other two kissed.

A couple hours later they were laying in a satisfied heap, Kenny with his arms around Kyle, Kevin nursing a beer as he attempted to catch his breath after the excursion. Kenny sighed, holding Kyle close, like he had wanted to for years but had been entirely unable to. He was content, he was happy, and he never, ever wanted to leave this spot. He had Kyle back.

That was the only thing in the world that would ever matter to him aside from Kevin and his job.

Despite the fact that he showed no loyalty to the military at this point, he was the kind of guy who never half-assed a job. He was a lieutenant colonel, and ********, if he gave up on his duties now, it very well could hasten the imminent World War III. Kenny didn’t want to be the one to help facilitate that in the least bit.

He rolled over, grabbing his pants and finding his cigarettes. The blonde lit one and sat up, holding the f** in one hand as he wrapped an arm around Kyle’s waist and pulled him close with the other. He spoke, his voice soft as he puffed on the cancer stick. “Mm… I really missed doin’ that. You have no idea, Ky. It’s like… me and Kev were always missin’ someone when we were in bed together, no matter what we were doin’. It was you. That felt so much better than it has in years…”

Kevin smiled and leaned over, kissing Kyle on the lips before doing the same to his brother. He spoke, grinning brightly. “I hafta get some sleep, but I love you both so much.” The eldest McCormick boy rolled over then, shutting off the light on his side of the bed and going to sleep.

Kenny looked at Kyle and smiled, biting his neck affectionately and leaving a small hickey. “I don’t want to sleep yet… C’mon, let’s go take a shower or somethin’ and then head downstairs. We still need to talk.”

[TheTweek]

「「 k y l e xxx c h r i s 」」 xxx

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Christophe glanced sideways at his 'daughter' with narrowed eyes, mouth curling into a mix between an accusatory sulk and frown as the other male wiggled closer to him. He stared down at Gregory while holding this expression, before letting his eyes drift to the book at his hand with his chin still raised as always.

His eye twitched slightly as he felt the other teasing his throat, shoulders hitching slightly at the lick and his eyes only tearing away from the text at his hands in order to stare again at Gregory, raising his eyebrows from behind his glasses. He felt his skin prickle as the hairs on the back of his neck rose, feeling the invading hand on his thigh and glancing back between it and down at Gregory suspiciously.

"Of course I can. Your interference is cheating, zo," he murmured, finally flipping the page of his book. Christ, he wasn't even reading it anymore... just staring at the pages as he tried to concentrate on other things than jumping Gregory's bones right there in the isle. His eyes slide away towards the other passengers, and he met eyes with the kid that had been staring Gregory down, raising his fingers in a fork in the classic European 'up your's' gesture. The kid promptly averted his eyes and Gregory shook his mess of 'salt-and-pepper' hair out as he brushed off any attention. Stupid ******** kids.

He turned to look back at Gregory then, easing off of him slightly and holding the book in both hands instead. He rose a hand to stifle a yawn before staring at the blond again fervently, taking in his appearance. He really fit the female look well. In fact, it was almost mindboggling. Chris knew he couldn't pull something like this off to save his life; his form was more muscular than the ex-commander from years of hardships and training and it showed all over, from his shoulders to his feet. Licking his upper lip thoughtfully, he turned away then, fingers twitching slightly. He needed a cigarette so badly, he thought he might kill something. Or someone. It really depended on what pissed him off first.

This was why he hated planes. So little freedom.

"I 'ave more self control zen you, zough. Zis is obvious," he purred cheekily, finally abandoning the book and leaning on his mother's armrest as she continued to snore away, looking Gregory up and down again with a slow smirk crawling onto his features. "You couldn't live wizout sex if your life depended on it. You'd razziar die. Don't you kid me you dairty girl, I know zat you could nevair pull zrough on your earlier declaration," he challenged, before adjusting his glasses a bit and then looking a few seats over. A woman was looking at them but judging by her plain-faced expression, she hadn't heard what he'd said. He waved at her flirtatiously and then looked at Gregory to smirk at his reaction as she turned away, going red.


----


A mix between a sigh and a groan escaped Kyle as he was abandoned to the bed with Kenny's bite mark slapped under his hand as he rubbed it, as if that would make it go away or something. "But I'm comfy..." He rolled over onto his back then, looking at Kenny with a pout before he slid out of bed with a sheet wrapped around himself and his thighs feeling uncomfortably... runny.

Okay, so maybe a shower was a good idea. By the time they got out of it, he'd probably be wide awake anyway. Not to mention that this sheet was going to have to be washed regardless, which he noted as he looked down at it's present, very sexed condition with a small smirk.

Bending down to kiss Kevin goodnight, Kyle shifted his shoulders in the folds of his sheet and wandered toward the washroom after lacing his fingertips with Kenny's. Guiding him in, he took it upon himself to test out the water, acknowledging that this was now his third shower of the day, all in Kenny's presence in some way. He breathed through his nose to stifle a laugh at the thought before looking up at the blond as he dropped his sheet to the bathroom floor and hastily hopped into the shower, basking under the warm water comfortably as he waited for Kenny to join him.

Grabbing the soap and making further notes of the things he was going to have to pick up from Cartman's the following day including his shampoo and things, he let the water do its work as it ran him clean of any fluid, scrubbing up contently and then turning to face Kenny in the shower and wrap his arms around his middle, pressing his face into the blond's neck.

He sighed contently, ignoring the pleasant burn in his muscles from his day, and eased his eyes shut as he slid against the other male soapily, raising his head to kiss him under the chin. "I would never leave you because we were poor, Kenny. Besides, it's not like I'd have the option. The moment I leave you guys, the moment I'm in hell getting ******** by Damien," he grumbled against his wet skin, sliding his hands up Kenny's back and taking in his scent mixed with the steamy smell of the shower and soap suds.

"I told you, I don't care about that s**t. I'd live on the streets in a box with you if it meant I could just be with you... I tried to get that through your head the last time, but no. You always have to play the ******** hero," he muttered. "I had a job, you know. We were doing fine. And we will do fine. I'll call into work tomorrow to see if they've let me go for being dead yet... and if they have, I'll be finding a new one soon if they don't take me back for being magically alive." He released another warm breath against Kenny's chest before drawing away from him slowly, reaching for the cloth he'd set out and wiping down Kenny's chest and stomach fondly.

"I love you. I always loved you..." He fell silent after a moment, stopping in his washing of Kenny as he realized he still hadn't brought up Christophe and Gregory. Deeming that this was still probably a good idea, he decided to keep his mouth shut, instead turning away slightly as he stood under the running water with a distant expression on his face. He did this, tending to zone out a lot, mostly because it was easier to think, and mostly because he'd just gotten into the habit of totally leaving his consciousness behind when dealing with Cartman's abuses. He stared down at himself, acknowledging his bruises and scars and war wounds, some old and some knew, most of them from the last four years. Tracing the scar on his side from his kidney transplant, he stared at the one higher up that ran parallel to it when Cartman had once so kindly thrown him into a glass table.

He turned away from Kenny even more as he closed his eyes and massaged his temples, before covering his face completely with his palms, but he still couldn't shake the images of his abuses that replayed in his dreams when he was sleeping and behind his eyelids when he was awake. Taking a few deep breaths he finally let his hands fall slightly, swiping a way at a few tears stupidly despite the water running and then reaching for the shampoo and soaping up his red curls quietly.

"Leaving you guys was probably the single biggest mistake in my life, Kenny. It killed me, literally," he said quietly, still with his back to the blond as he let the shampoo set in. "Sorry doesn't even cut it, not to you or myself. I feel so stupid. I have, since Cartman. I'm feel trapped. I know he'll be hunting me down, even if I kill him again. He can cut a deal with Damien just as easy as we did, and god knows Damien will do it just because he knows it'll be hell for us," he continued, voice a pained undertone as he wiped at his eyes again.

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Gregory shook his head, smirking at his lover. “Dear, I was in the military. I may not have had self-control when we were younger but I most assuredly have it now. And you’re right. I can’t go without sex for the rest of my life; thirteen years was bad enough.” He waved at the boy his lover had just spurned, smiling brightly, and the boy gave him a pointed smirk, waving in return. Greg smirked and looked at Christophe, leaning up and nibbling on Christophe’s ear lightly. “But if you get a man drunk enough, he’ll ignore anything, including a d**k.”

He was teasing, of course; he wouldn’t cheat on Chris unless he had cause to, and then it would be entirely out of vengeance and not pleasure. And it would be Stan. He had long ago decided that, if he lost his relationship with Christophe, he was taking Stan down with him, as terrible and selfish as that was. Gregory never claimed to be a particularly caring man.

He rubbed his hand over Christophe’s thigh lightly, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. “I know what I do to you, Christophe, and I know how I make you feel. I can tell without a doubt that I make you hard just by talking, just by giving you a few touches and kiss you in a few choice spots… You can’t help it, Chris… It’s a Pavlovian response. You hear me speak and you get turned on.”

Gregory would be lying if he stood there and said that he wasn’t the same way.

He was perpetually horny where Christophe was involved, and while it was certainly a disadvantage in the current scenario, especially considering the fact that Christophe could at least hide his hard-on while Gregory was stuck in a pretty sundress with only the thin fabric of a pair of girl’s underwear hiding his true gender from the world.

Well, at least he was thorough.


[------]


Kenny listened to the other man speak and had to admit that the man had a point. Cartman was not the guy who would give up and move along with his ******** life, not if he knew Kyle was still alive. He had it out for the redhead, had always been after him, and Kenny realized with a start that they had all been idiots from the beginning, letting Kyle near Cartman. Eric didn’t love Kyle; he was never going to love Kyle. It was humiliation and a taste for domination that had driven Cartman to take Kyle. The Jew had been on the rebound after the breakup with Kenny and Cartman had swept in and obviously looked like a hero. He had played it out until he knew he could do it, and then he destroyed everything that Kyle had ever held close.

Kenny clenched his jaw in a rare show of anger and grabbed Kyle’s wrist, yanking him back into his arms and holding him close under the steady stream of water. He was pissed at Cartman more than anything, and he spoke, his voice little more than an angry growl. “Then I’ll have to cut a deal with Damien before anyone else does. You are mine, Kyle, and I’m yours, and no stupid fat ******** is going to get in between us ever again. I’m gonna keep him the ******** away from you, me and Kevin, and one of us is always going to be around. We’ll go with you to Cartman’s tomorrow because I don’t want you near that son of a b***h by yourself.”

He grabbed the shampoo bottle almost vindictively before lacing a hand in Kyle’s sudsy hair and tugging him into a deep, needy kiss. Once he was done frenching his lover he lathered his blonde hair up, watching Kyle before gripping his a** tightly with both hands, pressing him against the shower wall and lifting him up easily, wrapping the redhead’s legs around his legs.

He kissed Kyle before pulling away the littlest bit, blue eyes locked on the green ones ahead of him before he spoke, his voice despairing. “You were a wreck without me, I was a wreck without you. I was fallin’ apart on the inside but I had to keep playing officer on the outside. I buried myself in work and alcohol, barely spoke to anyway, barely left the house… I died so many ********’ times because I was bein’ careless. There wasn’t any use tryin’ if you weren’t around. I never want to feel that way again.”

He licked a bead of water from his lover’s cheek slowly, murmuring, “I love you, Ky, more than anythin’. I’m never lettin’ you go again.”

[TheTweek]

「「 k y l e xxx c h r i s 」」 xxx

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The fact that Gregory was so right pissed him off. The fact that he was using it to his advantage pissed him off even more, and the threat of being cheated on him drew a prolonged stare out of Christophe that looked entirely unamused. Seeing the French man worked up with such a pout was probably an amusing aspect; hell, if his mother had been away at that specific moment, she probably would have been howling at his face. And he knew this, peering at her again out of the corner of his eye for good measure to really make sure she was still asleep, as though her snoring hadn't given that away.

Whatever. Two could play at this game.

Resting a hand on Gregory's bare thigh with an entirely casual appearance, he ran his finger inconspicuously along the underside with his nails gently, as he tended to do during their love making, while resting his opposite elbow on the armrest between them and leaning his chin in his palm as he gazed at Gregory thoughtfully. With a daring smirk, his eyes flickered toward Gregory's object of flirtation's mother. She looked back at him when she noticed, before going entirely red, and he offered her a charming smile before looking back at Gregory.

"Women are easy-air. Zey don't even need alcohol for a good casual fock," he purred quietly against Gregory's ear, hand sliding between his things and resting there. Perhaps a bit too intimate but no one around seemed to be caring at the moment, and the kid down the isle was too much of a little s**t to keep his eyes off of Gregory, paying no attention to Christophe's hand massaging the inside of his thighs.

Smirking faintly against the side of his daughter's head, he bit Gregory's lobe gently.

"You might want to leeft your legs a bit, mon cher before you end up wiz a strange hill in your dress. I know what I do to you as well as you do. But you know I'm competetive... you can't win zis," he whispered with a smirk, before pulling away and crossing his legs with his ankle rested against his knee as he grabbed his book again and flipped it open, resting it in his lap.


----


Kyle jumped and flinched noticeably as Kenny grabbed his wrist, eyes wide and a hand raising defensively until he was pulled against Kenny's chest, and he felt himself slowly start to relax. He buried his face against the blond's wet skin, sniffing slightly and wrapping his arms around Kenny's middle tightly, feeling safe for the first time in a while. He glanced up a bit at the bite in Kenny's voice as he spoke, and shook his head violently at his suggestions.

"I'm not letting you cut a deal with Damien, Kenny. Stop trying to. It's not worth it. Besides, I'm like you now," he vocalized quietly, though there was a bit of strain in his next few lines. "It doesn't matter, even if he kills me again I'll just come back to you..." he trailed off as Ken pulled him into a long kiss, resting his palms against the other's chest as he enjoyed the affections before drawing away to watch Kenny was himself curiously.

He made a quiet noise of protest as he was grabbed again, arching against the cold wall with a hiss and slinging an arm around Kenny's neck for support as they stared eachother down. He smiled faintly, playing a few of the blond strands darkened from the water and kneading the soap between his fingers in amusement, before his face fell slightly in reflection of Kenny's words.

He nodded slowly, letting his wandering hand drift around Kenny's shoulders as well and smiling faintly at the feeling of the marine's tongue against his cheek, massaging Kenny's back gently with his palms as Kenny continued to hold him in place.

"I love you, too, Kenny. I'm sorry we ******** up. I'm sorry I ******** up," he muttered against his ear, leaving a few kisses along his jawline. "But if you leave me in this position much longer I'm afraid you're not going to be letting me go for real for a little while," he added, tightening his legs up around the other's waist slightly and pulling him closer, leaning his head forward slightly to kiss him with a free hand sifting through the blond's hair.

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So it was a competition now.

Gregory hadn’t been interested in playing until Christophe said he couldn’t win. That was like putting a mouse in front of a cat and telling it the mouse was for looking, not for eating. Gregory shifted slightly, the orange panties he was wearing underneath his sundress doing a decent job of shielding his erection from any probing eyes, like the ones of the boy a few rows over. Greg licked his lips lewdly, not looking at the child but knowing that the teen was watching every move he made with rapt attention.

He stood up, smiling at Christophe sweetly and sliding back into the role of ‘Sofia’ easily. “Danke you for ze advice, Papa. Ich em certain Ich can keep et in mind.” He walked down the aisle a bit and sat down next to the boy who had been ogling him, finding that he was a little older than just a teenager but still looked pretty young. And familiar. Damn, Greg felt like he was having déjà vu.

Feeling a little better now that he knew he wasn’t committing *****, Greg looked the dark-haired boy over and smiled. He wasn’t actually going to have sex with the man. No, that would be stupid, and he was fairly certain Christophe would tear the kid’s head off if they got to ********. He could, however, make out with the kid, and that was not only proving that he could keep it in his pants, but could show restraint at the same time.

Gregory was an incredibly intelligent man but he had no common sense.

He ran his thigh lightly over the boy’s thigh, smiling at him sweetly and visibly flirting, his blue eyes scanning the dark-haired man in feigned interest. He leaned over, glancing at Christophe, and pressed his lips to the other man’s ear, murmuring, “Ich ‘ave always wanted du ‘ave sex on a plane. Do you want du?”

He gripped the man’s hand and pulled him up out of his seat, half-dragging him towards the restroom and pushing him in, looking at him before kissing him slowly, eyes slipping closed; they were relatively the same height, so it wasn’t that difficult to get him involved in the kiss. Greg backed up against the counter, leaning against it as a hand slid down to grasp the younger man’s backside flirtatiously, pressing against him.

Greg moaned softly, managing to get out, “Ich love et when you kiss me like dis…” He opened his eyes and all of a sudden that spark of familiarity set afire; Greg stared into the blue eyes of the man in front of him before hissing, “Ike? Ike Broflovski?”


[------]


Kenny kept his tight grip on Kyle’s a**, nipping at his lover’s neck softly and leaving little love bites all over it. He smirked, managing to get out, “No way in Hell I’m lettin’ you go right now, Ky. Looks like you’re stuck.” He kissed Kyle softly on the mouth, running his tongue over his lover’s bottom lip and dragging him into a much deeper, much more meaningful liplock almost immediately, making a soft noise in the back of his throat as he pressed himself against Kyle. As much as he loved his brother, it was nice to just do it alone, just the two of them. Kevin either understood or was too stupid to care, but Kenny figured that his big brother got the fact that Kyle and he had something much deeper than the bond either of them shared with the oldest McCormick boy.

Thirty minutes later Kenny was in the kitchen, a clean pair of sweats on and drying his hair absentmindedly as he searched for some milk to put on the cereal he had just poured for himself. They had ******** in the shower and Kenny wasn’t sure if he was clean or even dirtier, although he smelled like soap and Kyle.

He tossed the towel he was drying his blonde hair with on the counter, deciding it could stay there for the time being as he redoubled his efforts to find the milk. He finally did, pulling it out and taking a swig of it before licking his lips and pouring some on his cereal. The blonde hopped up on the counter, starting to eat the meager midnight snack while watching the stairs. Kyle was still up there, dressing or doing his hair or something; Kenny had never paid any attention to what Kyle did after they showered. Kenny didn’t really care, so long as Kyle was alive and well and living in a relatively close proximity to him.

He swung his legs, still watching the stairs for his lover before calling out, “Kyle…” he all but whined, a pout gracing his lips. “Ky, I want to cuddle. Get your gorgeous Jewish a** down here and snuggle with me…”

Kenny finished his cereal and set the bowl and spoon in the sink, walking into the living room and draping himself across the couch. The house was well-furnished and expensive looking; Kenny was paid incredibly well, and while he had a lot of control over a ton of people, he did little but sign off on paperwork and make sure that no one undermined his authority. Sure, he was at the base every day, but it was mostly performance review and maintenance checks.

He didn’t love his job, but it was better than prostitution and drug-dealing by a long shot.

[TheTweek]

「「 k y l e xxx c h r i s xxx i k e 」」 xxx

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"Jesus ******** Christ, it took you long enough." Ike tugged at his collar slightly, before staring down between them at the closed space, licking his lips slightly to rid them of the taste of Gregory still forced into their texture. He stared up at the blond and straightened himself out a bit more before looking Greg up and down a few times.

"You know, Greg, you've really got yourself something going here. Huh... you've really got the figure for this. And you're domineering, that's a good feature to have on camera..." he pushed Gregory back against the counter and held him there, groping his chest shamelessly before stepping back to lean against the door with his arms folded against his chest. "Yeah... yeah. You could totally fit my last role, too. Aislin is gonna need someone else..."

Aislin, as in, the crossdresser who had been eyeing Christophe back on the plan, who he was now seated beside and making conversation with. Occasionally the French man glanced at the other dark-haired kid that he'd failed to notice before, sitting on the opposite side of the lovely 'woman' that Ike and Filmore were travelling with. He couldn't help but keep glancing back at the other boy, wanting to say that he'd seen that face somewhere, but he honestly wasn't sure. Not that he could ask either, being that he would be blowing his cover, so instead he kept up the steady conversation with the pretty 'lady' who was getting pretty cozy against him under his arm and against his side, blushing and muttering at his good choice in words.

Ike, meanwhile, continued to ponder Gregory with optimal interest. He rose the classic screen-square with his index fingers and thumbs and cast his eyes around the inside of the box, before through it at Gregory. "Yeah... this is a really good idea. We could have the whole set on a plane to Milan. Oh man, and then we could totally go to Milan for the casting party when the shoot's finished. That would be totally rad, dude. You're hired. Or, you know, you're kinda hired. I guess we should wait for this whole, 'Entire of Europe tracking you down to kill you' thing. God, you guys ******** up big time. Good disguises though, if I hadn't been working in the porn industry for six years I might have never known."

The cheeky Canadian offered a toothy little grin at Gregory. It was true, he started in porn. He did have a lot of full-length movies finished and in progress, but porn was his favourite, mostly because the people you met were always interesting and great to talk to. So many ventures that he always loved to hear about, and share himself. He'd desperately tried to get Kyle into a few but the red-head had flat-out refused, even before Cartman took over.

Which reminded him.

His face darkened into a scowl as he reviewed his mission plan. He was returning to South Park - of course Cartman had called Stan to tell him about Kyle's 'suicide', and Stan had immediately contacted Ike, who had hopped on a plane from Ireland from his auditions as soon as the first light of the building went dark. There was the entire possibility that his brother may have actually done it, which ripped the ravenette to shreds, but he was almost certain that Cartman had killed him, and Ike planned to put his hyperintelligence to work in the matter, even if it meant postponing the production of Trousersnakes on a Plane and temporarily getting his spot back in the detective branch of the police force back home. Kyle had tried killing himself once before during his Cartman time, but Ike was pretty sure that was only between himself, Stan and Cartman at this point. Kyle obviously knew, but he didn't talk about it, and refused to even in the hospital.

"I'm kind of disappointed you didn't recognize me though, Gregory. I mean, I know we didn't talk a lot, but seriously. I was staring you and the Mole down like a hawk to prey. You seriously mean to say that you were busy trying to get me to bone you?" he clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a smirk and folding his hands behind his head with his back still blocking Gregory's exit against the door. "It's your lucky day, 'cause my boyfriend and I have an open relationship, but seriously, if you wanted my d**k up your a** so bad, you could have just asked."

It was clear that Ike hadn't changed at all.


----


Kyle was fully satisfied. Really. He could have leaned against that counter with his forehead pressed against the mirror for the rest of his infinite life and been totally content, but of course this idea was crumbled away when he heard Kenny bellowing for him from downstairs like some kind of whiny dog. The idea made Kyle smirk slightly as he stared into the features of his own reflection, licking his lips slightly and then finally drawing away and hurrying up.

He took care of the laundry neatly, putting it in it's proper hamper or whatever and sighing as he wandered through the house in a towel. He found a pair of boxers eventually, who's they were didn't really matter at this point as he pulled on a large sweater overtop and wandered downstairs in the oversized hoody, likely Kenny's due to the military emblem over the left side.

He pulled up the hood slightly with his hair more or less half-dried on the first layer of curls as he sauntered down to Kenny and crawled onto him, curling his arms around the other male's back to run his hands through Kenny's damp hair comfortably as he laid there, feeling kind of young again after living in impending fear for five years of his life.

Licking his lips thoughtfully, he finally raised his head after a while and scooted up a bit more and rolled onto his side, in order to wedge himself between Kenny and the couch, which wasn't difficult considering his size. Resting a palm over the other male's bare chest, he sipped his scent as he pressed his face into Kenny's body with a soft noise in his throat, as though trying to imprint it forever back into his memory. After a long time of comfortable silence, he let his hand slide up to Kenny's cheek, cupping it slightly as he slid his eyes closed with his face rested in the corner of Kenny's neck.

"If you get drafted... I'm going to pawn my way into scooping the story in Europe... I'm going with you," he said quietly, finger's curling slightly against his cheek. He opened his eyes, staring across the canvas of his true lover's chest before continuing. "I don't want you to leave me here. Kevin won't want you to leave either, Kenny. Maybe Kev can get in on mechanics or something... he helped you fix that truck enough times when we were kids," he said quietly against his throat, before raising his eyes up to consult Kenny's baby blues with his own. "We can all go together. No one'll have to know the wiser..." he trailed off slowly, drawing unidentifiable shapes across Kenny's collarbone with his fingertips tiredly.

His eyes finally took the time to seriously outline Kenny's home. He took in the details carefully with his eyes, and the interest prickled in his expression with each little familiar thing that he picked out from the decor. Kissing against the other's throat again slowly, he lifted a leg over the blond before laying fully on top of him and resting his head against the other's peck with his eyes closed in thought. "I know I never said anything or showed it, but... I am proud of you Kenny. You've really done a lot for yourself... I love you so much, and I'm sorry, sorry, sorry..." he trailed off, balling his fist slightly and sighing.

"You were right... and I'm sorry."

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“No.”

Greg shook his head, patting Ike on the chest lightly and giving him a fatherly smile. “Sorry, Ike, but your d**k is going nowhere near my a**. That’s Christophe’s job, not yours.” He looked Ike over for a few moments; he hadn’t seen Ike in person in a long time. He had seen pictures of him, because as he understood it Ike was relatively famous, but he hadn’t seen the boy since Stan and Wendy’s wedding. He had been concentrating on Christophe too much to realize that he was going after one of his friend’s little brother.

The idea of being in a porno, though, intrigued him. Especially since he was the ex-commander of the British troops, and he was in drag. That would be a blow to the English empire. He loved that idea, because Gregory enjoyed the thought of humiliating an entire country through one act. He thought it over, looking at Ike before shrugged. “If Christophe can be in the porno, then I’ll do it. You’ll pay me, right?”

It was less of a physical desire to do porn than it was a mental one; if he did it, he could shame the military and discredit their actions, putting a drag queen crossdressing homosexual in charge of one of the most powerful militaries on the planet. It made him tingly just to think that he had that much power over how the rest of the world viewed Britain.

He smiled at Ike, leaning against the counter; there was no harm in actually making Christophe think they were doing the nasty.

Across from Aislin and Chris sat Filmore Anderson, who was perfectly content with the fact that his boyfriend of a year or so was currently in an airplane bathroom with another guy. Ike had hissed the fact that the blonde cutie currently checking him out was a man into Filmore’s ear, and the twenty-six year old had always been the type to go with the flow.

The South Park native was two years older than Ike, but they had been rivals all through elementary, middle, and high school, and after graduation they had headed out west at roughly the same time, with drastically different results. Ike was famous in the movie industry, Filmore was famous in the porn industry. They had met up at an audition four years ago or something and Filmore had become a staple in every movie Ike had ever done, starring in all the pornos and making cameos in the box-office blockbusters. They had only begun dating a year ago but it was a terribly open relationship and the two men had gotten involved in sexual situations outside of work that most people could only dream of.

Filmore loved Ike, though, and he was pretty sure that the boy felt the same way about him, at least a little. What had started as a way to fuel his crack addiction had turned into a full-blown relationship, and the porn star certainly wasn’t against some of the s**t that went down at their home in Hollywood.

The black-haired man watched Christophe and their newest star for a few moments; he knew who the man was because he had met him in passing before as well as had Ike tell him about fifty times in the course of the last ten minutes. He knew he was sitting across from a highly-wanted individual; it had been all over the news the last few days as people struggled to find where he and Gregory were.

It was funny, really, to watch him get so snuggly with a woman who was actually a man when his own drag queen lover was either a.) getting ********, b.) getting propositioned to be ********, or c.) getting asked to be a porn star. Filmore kicked Christophe’s leg and smirked, looking him over. “Wanna be a porn star?”

He wasn’t the most subtle of people.



[------]


Kenny listened to Kyle speak, nodding every few moments and then shaking his head. “We were both wrong, Kyle. I shouldn’t have joined the military and you shouldn’t have left me and Kev. We both ******** up but that’s in the past. Way in the past. What matters now is that we’re together and happy. If I do end up going on another tour of duty, then you’re going to pose as Kevin’s lover, not mine, and come with me. I can pull some strings and get you two to live with me while I’m over there as long as you keep up the charade of being Kevin’s boyfriend.” He smiled and shook his head again, pulling Kyle into a gentle kiss. “I legally have custody of Kevin because he’s got all the intelligence of Forrest Gump, so he has to travel with me no matter what. You’ll be able to tag along.”

He slid his arms down, cupping Kyle’s a** lightly and kissing him on the tip of his nose before biting it lightly, smirking. “I’m insanely proud of you, too. You and Ike. Both of you have fantastic careers. Most everybody hates me because I’m just the guy who comes on TV and warns people when the town is about to be attacked by Mecha-Streisand or guinea pirates or s**t like that. I’m like…” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m like the ********’ Grim Reaper to these people. I start showin’ up right when people start dyin’.”

Kenny ran a hand through his hair and then sat up a little bit, holding Kyle tightly in his lap and kissing his neck softly. “Mm… It’s so nice to finally be wi-… who the ******** is calling at this time of night?”

Kenny’s cell phone was going off, the blatantly country ringtone blaring from its position in the kitchen. Kenny groaned and stood up, walking into the kitchen and flipping the cell open, sounding pissed. “Craig ******** Tucker, why the s**t are you calling me? It’s three in the morning and…” His eyes widened and he leaned his head against the kitchen partition, licking his lips. “What do you mean? Dude, don’t… I… No, we’ll be right there. Calm down, Craig. Stop ******** shouting!”

There was a long pause and then Kenny sighed. “All right, man. Thomas holding up okay?... I see. Me and Ky will be right there, man. Just calm down. We don’t need you in jail for assault when he’s in the hospital.” He paused again and then nodded. “Love you, too, Craig. Be there in a bit.”

Kenny hung up and ran a hand through his blonde hair before glancing at Kyle and offering a slight smile. “Tweek’s in the hospital and Craig’s going totally batshit. We need to get up to Hell’s Pass before he beats someone’s head in. Um… Just borrow a pair of my shoes or something and some pants. We’ll take the truck since my bike is totaled.”

He walked over to the front door and pulled off Kevin’s jacket, buttoning it up the front and obviously not caring that he was in only a pair of sweatpants. Kenny slid on a pair of shoes and glanced at Kyle, shaking his head. “Some reunion this’ll be, huh? Just be careful that you don’t set Craig off. He’s violent when one of them gets hurt.”

[TheTweek]

「「 k y l e xxx c h r i s xxx i k e xxx t w e e k 」」 xxx

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Ike clicked his tongue in disappointment and rolled his eyes, digging into his pocket and pulling out a strip of spearmint gum, while offering one keenly to Gregory as well in the process of popping it into his mouth.

"Of course I'll pay you, English. What do you take me for? A newbie?" he almost drawled, blowing a minty-fresh bubble and letting it pop as he stuffed his package of gum away. It was all one could do to keep from going insane on a flight. Much like almost everyone in the god damn town, Ike was a dedicated smoker and the flight had him tweaking out like some kind of junkie from his stunted nicotine fix. This was perhaps why he was being a bit more talkative than usual - if that were even possible. The kid loved to talk and it was no mystery, but at least he tried to say things that were mostly interesting.

"You and Frenchfry can have a go, yadda yadda. We'll see if he cuts the bill. It takes a personality to ******** on camera, you know. I only know you have one because of where we are, right now," he offered with a sassy little wink, before rolling up the sleeve to his loose-fitted black button up and checking the time. God knew Filmore was probably laughing about all of this. This wasn't exactly the first time this had happened to either of them - being a porn star and a porn director, fame got you everywhere, and with fame came a lot of groupies, and with groupies came a lot of boot-knocking. It was a satisfying life style, to say the least. If Ike hadn't been rambling to his lover about Gregory and Christophe for the entire flight beforehand the other black-haired male probably could have easily suspected a fan being a more similar scenario.

They had a lot of funny, unavoidable run-ins on planes. This was why Ike potentially hated planes. He was genuinely good-natured and free-spirited about everything, but he did get jealous when their time spent together as an actual couple got neglected, and he missed the easy days of travelling together without being pestered.

Wiggling his eyebrows thoughtfully again after checking out Gregory one last time, he reached forward and ruffled the blond's wig a but before sweeping a hand through his own hair to make their appearances appropriate to their accused deed, and adjusted his collar once more as he unlocked the bathroom door.

"Lets go, dollface."

Christophe had to say, the entire situation was a bit funny. He was naturally getting more and more sceptical the longer Gregory was off in lalaland with his younger ********. He hadn't heard any screaming yet so either Gregory had been quietly rejected (highly unlikely) or they were talking or something. Not to mention that the kid hadn't come running out of the bathroom stunned over him having an extra appendage that normally wasn't accounted for in seeing a pretty blond girl...

He was only drawn out of his thoughts when the other dark-haired boy across from them spoke up, and he turned to look at him after a moment, as though taking a second to process. He'd been on the verge of asking what the flying ******** he was talking about, but it was at that point that Ike re-appeared dragging a dishevelled-looking Gregory behind him, still looking the pretty young lass as he did before. Christophe frowned slightly, but when his eyes fixed on Ike, they widened a bit as the male drew closer, and the name fell off of his lips even before he thought it through.

"... Broflovski?"

He sat up a bit straighter with Aislin still tucked under his arm, though he released her as the other two drew closer. Ike noted his taken seat no thanks to Christophe and instead reserved himself a seat in Filmore's lap, seeming entirely shameless as he plopped down and gave the twenty-six year old a lasting, purposely annoying kiss on the cheek, which was more like him smooshing his face into Filmore's. Christophe looked up at Gregory then; there was no mistake. This was Kyle's little brother sitting across from him now, and from recognition, he realized that the kid he was sitting on was the one he'd run against for president when they were all really small.

"What ze ********]"


----


Kyle nodded, a bit sobered by the idea of going to the hospital, to see Craig Tucker of all people. He didn't really have anything against the kid, but their relationship had been more than a bit rocky their entire lives. It was no mystery that Craig wasn't a game-playing fan of really any of their old group, though Kenny seemed to get along with him well enough. Stan, Cartman and himself, however, well... that was a different story.

Grabbing a clean pair of sweats from a laundry basket and pulling the drawstring tight to actually keep them on, he slid his fairy feet into a pair of too-big shoes and trotted after Kenny out the door.

He held the hand of the blond securely as they entered through the hospital doors, kind of unwilling to stray too far from him. The staff eyed him, knowing him well, but he didn't meet their gazes, except for the secretary, Ruth, who smiled and waved at him sadly. He flickered his fingers back at her a bit as he watched her look at Kenny for a moment before winking at him and shooting him a thumbs up. Kyle had to turn away slightly to hide his smile and continued down the hall, sticking close to Kenny's side.

Tweek was doing something awful, head lolled over to the side slightly and his limbs strapped to his sides as he shook uncontrollably in his hospital bed. This was half out of his life-long habit of having the shakes and half out of his body trying to stabilize itself under the attendance of the doctors hovering over him.

The world was an illusive, pained place. He didn't know where he was, or what he was doing. Though his eyes were open and staring his mind was in a completely different universe that rendered him unable of the simplest things, such as talking. His body twitched more prominently now and then as the figure to his left did something, and he felt coldness running through him, his eyes swimming and circling.

"His bloodpressure's going down. We'll have to keep a close watch and make sure he doesn't fall into another cardiac arrest... prep a methadone injection after an hour while everything else takes it's effect, he's going to be here for a while."

"Temperature's dropping. He won't stop shaking though."

"We talked to one of the guys who called the ambulance, they said this is an ordinary thing. The blond one was miffed though, said this was the worst they'd ever seen. The other one was too busy freaking out to get out a straight sentence, really."

"Do they know?"

"I'm not sure. We told them already what happened after we figured it out from when he had the heart attack... they were pretty pissed."

Tweek's head swam and he quivered. Something touched his face and leaned his head to the side, and he probably wouldn't even remember vomiting, more so from the feverish state of his body than any other outstanding problem in reference to his condition. As his temperature dropped, however, his shaking became less violent, and his rapid-moving drug-induced delirium faded into a series of distant scenes and dreams as he finally faded out.

Caffeine had been the building blocks to the twenty-nine year old's entire life, but like every good thing, some die hard, and get old. Some time around his early twenties the adrenaline junkie had become fixated on bigger and better things; at first he'd taken to occasionally stealing Dexedrine from Thomas' supply from his tourettes. When Craig and Thom had started to catch on and Tweek had begun to build an immunity, he'd moved on to bigger and better things, and that was methamphetamine.

Progressively he kept it under wraps, but his personality took a nose dive the deeper he got into the drugs, and the condition of his body was soon giving away signs to his two lovers even more. The past two years had been an on and off process, before they became permanent, being that Tweek was unwilling to sit through the pains of withdrawal. And now, after slipping a near-lethal amount into his vein accidentally, Craig and Thomas had had the unfortunate luck to stumble back into their home to find their twitchy straw-haired counterpart vibrating on the floor of their home and choking on his own saliva.

Kyle was kind of taken aback by the sight as they approached the hospital room that was now secure for visitors by the hours passed of revitalizing the blond unconscious in the bedspread. He was finally still, and his signs seemed better than what they probably had been, but seeing Tweek so unanimated and sunken-looking almost made Kyle uncomfortable. His hand tightened in Kenny's grip; the kid looked terrible, from his protruding cheek bones to his almost skeletal shape, and the tracks of his body and the blistery chapped condition of his lips and his overall dead-looking appearance... he looked worse than Kyle did, and that was saying something.

Still partially horrified, it was really sinking in for Kyle how out of the loop he'd been while living under the strict rule of Cartman's iron fist. He hadn't seen either of the three men now idling in the hospital room in years, he was sure. Standing closer and more kind of behind Kenny than before, he tried to make himself less obvious as they entered slowly. He was kind of scared at Craig at this point, mostly because the kid looked pissed, and from someone so monotonous, that was enough to convince Kyle that him coming along for the ride was a bad idea. Making a note to opt to keeping his mouth shut for this hospital expedition, he swallowed slightly and looked at Tweek sadly, before looking back at the other two and raising a hand slowly before letting it fall back down to his side, his other hand still entangled with Kenny's.

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“********, babe, I hate when you do that,” Filmore murmured, although he was smiling, arms around Ike’s waist as he pulled the younger man closer to him. He loved Ike. There was no question in his mind that the years upon years of rivalry had made him fall in love with Ike. There was also the added bonus of him being able to pin Ike down and ******** him without qualms; he was quite pleased that he was the dominant one in the relationship. It almost made up for living in the Canadian’s shadow for a decade and a half.

Greg looked at Christophe, offered a saucy smirk, and dropped down in between his lover and Aislin, smiling at the latter of the two brightly and recognizing ‘her’ for what ‘she’ was. He linked his arm with the other crossdresser’s and looked back at Christophe, still smiling slightly. “Did you have fun while I was gone, love? I certainly did.” He gave Ike a cheeky wink, rubbing it in Christophe’s face before resting his head on the Frenchman’s shoulder and watching the men across from them.

Filmore leaned forward the slightest bit and rested his chin on the crux of Ike’s neck, kissing the pale skin of his lover’s throat lightly. He had been content with the idea of staying in Ireland and finishing the audition process while Ike went back to the States, but they had both realized that this was the first chance they had in a long while to be alone together without people trying to screw them. That had pretty much been Filmore’s job during the auditions; he had sex. Lots and lots of sex with about fifty different traps. He could do it; the twenty-six year had the stamina of a stallion and he guessed that, mixed with good looks, was what made him a good porn star. He wasn’t a fantastic actor, but he didn’t flub his ‘lines’, which were usually insanely cheesy or so simple that he couldn’t ******** them up.

He liked doing porn, though, and it was even better now that he happened to be doing it in close proximity to Ike. It was nice that they were going to have some time alone now, however, and Filmore was definitely looking forward to some one-on-one time with his boyfriend, although his mother would probably be all over them like white on rice.

He had no idea how he wasn’t disowned.

Filmore knew that his mom was aware of his profession, and yet she was, if anything, more clingy to him now. It amazed him, frankly. He spoke, his voice low as he nibbled on Ike’s neck, his hand stroking the other’s thigh lightly. “Where are we going once we land? We have to get Aislin in a hotel and then find a place for us to stay where we won’t be bothered. What about that old ******** of your brother’s? Kenny or whatever. Think he’d let us shack up with him?”


[------]


Craig was flipping out.

There was no ‘mild’ way to put it, there was no ‘nice’ way of phrasing it. Craig Thomas Tucker was throwing a complete and total b***h fit. He had driven the whole way to the hospital behind the ambulance, screaming obscenities that made even Thomas blush, although the other blonde was by no means happy. Craig had stormed into the hospital, slammed his fist through the plaster in the waiting room wall while Tweek was being stabilized, and had spent the last fifteen minutes getting his knuckles bandaged by a terrified ER staff before being allowed to see Tweek.

He was trying not to freak out further because he was afraid Tweek would wake up and see him going werewolf on the hospital room, but he was digging his nails into his palms so hard that he was drawing blood, staring at the strapped down body of his boyfriend. Thomas was holding his wrists, trying to bring monotonous, sarcastic, normal Craig back, but he was having no luck.

Kenny and Kyle entered the room and Craig didn’t look over until Kenny spoke, the blonde’s voice tentative and soft. “How… How’s he doin’, Craig?”

Craig’s blue eyes flickered to Kenny and then fell on Kyle, and something inside him snapped. He grabbed the flimsy metal chair next to the bed and flung it; it wasn’t that much of a threat but it caught Kenny in the head, leaving a good-sized gash on the blonde’s right cheek and temple. Kenny took a dazed step back, looking confused, like he didn’t know what had hit him, and Craig took a few steps forward, grabbing the Marine by the front of the jacket and running him up against the wall.

Kenny brought his hands up, grabbing Craig’s wrists; truth be told, he was ******** terrified of Craig. For someone who liked this ‘nice and normal’, Craig was a ******** monster. He was taller than Kenny by a few inches, but those few inches led to ten more pounds of lithe, sinewy muscle on arms that were heavily tattooed. He was a lithe, impressive looking man, and for a coffee shop owner he was ******** terrifying. Craig spoke, his voice grating and low as he fixed Kenny with the nastiest look he possibly could. “Why the [********] is Kyle with you? What the [********]?! I lose one of my boys and you get your ******** redhead slut back? What the ********]

He was shaking Kenny roughly by now, Kenny still holding his wrists as Thomas pulled at the back of Craig’s shirt, starting to cry as he attempted to get his lover off of the Marine. Assault was one thing but assault of a military officer was another matter entirely, and Thomas wanted Craig in jail like he wanted his d**k cut off and fed to a pit-bull.

Craig continued, starting to go batshit again as Kenny managed to reach over and slam the hospital door shut; despite the fact that it was starting to look like Craig was going to murder him, Kenny didn’t want Craig in jail. “I HATE you, Kenny! I ******** HATE your stupid ******** guts and I want you ******** DEAD! I’ll ******** sell Damien my soul if it means that you ******** stay DEAD.” He threw the blonde to one side, Kenny hitting the wall hard and sinking to the floor as he stared at Craig, letting the black-haired man do what he wanted.

Craig was going to murder the blonde when Thomas screamed the raven-haired man’s name, his whole body shaking as he got his lover’s attention. The blonde broke down, burying his face in his hands, and Craig went over to him, wrapping his arms around Thomas and sliding to the ground with his lover in his arms, holding him tight as he sobbed, Craig staying dry-eyed but looking broken.

Kenny got up quickly and walked over to Kyle, watching the two men on the ground before his eyes flickered to Tweek and back to his own lover. He slid his arms around Kyle, ignoring the heavily bleeding gash on his face and instead hugging Kyle close. “Jesus Christ, if you ever do that, Ky… I’ll ******** die.”

[TheTweek]

「「 k y l e xxx c h r i s xxx i k e xxx t w e e k 」」 xxx

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Christophe simply glared at Gregory, eyes flickering with some kind of vendetta as the blond squished down between himself and the Aislin chick looking all smug and holy. Christophe had seen this look before, and in his own favour, he knew instantly that he was lying, not because of any kind of physical disturbance, but more out of behaviour. Thirty years could have passed between them and he still would have been able to read the ex-commander like a book; it was just how observant he was of the other's ways, more out of love than out of anything else.

Instead of coming off as any kind of mad, he boldly stuffed his hand shamelessly up Gregory's dress and pulled back the behind of his orange panty's, feeling around with his other arm across Gregory's chest to keep him from punching him off. He rose his eyebrows at Gregory then, as though this was a big interesting find as he withdrew his hand from the other male's dress and poked the blond in the stomach. "High and dry, I am so certain zat you 'ad ze time of your life. Ike 'az always been quite an intairesting talkair, non?" he asked with a cunning smirk, before restoring himself to his side of the seat in older to consult the scene of the other couple smugly.

Ike did little more than grin as his boyfriend objected to his affections in the usual way, turning to look at they rest of their party of five. He listened to his lover as he started to ramble about their bunking situation and things. Ike rose an eyebrow at him as his worrying, though Filmore seemed to hit a nerve that averted the Canadian's eyes immediately at the mention of his brother. He stared off to the window at their right in silence for a long time, before shaking his head. "You know we're both loaded, right? I'm pretty sure we can afford staying in a hotel til after Kyle's funeral," he said with a bit of ice to his tone, knitting his fingers together uncomfortably. He didn't want to impose on Kenny and Kevin, honestly; it wasn't that he minded him or anything but he didn't want to stir up any old feelings from when he and Kyle had been together.

Oh, ******** it. The twenty-four year old dug into their travelling back under his seat impatiently and pulled out a pack of smokes, groaning and flopping bridal style in Filmore's lap as he lit a cigarette and took a refreshing drag. ******** it all, really, he didn't care - he could pay the fine if he got caught by the staff like he was buying a pack of gum or something, just by marking his successes. He turned to consult a lady with a baby who was shooting him an even glare of disapproval, and he rolled his eyes and flipped her off, to which her jaw dropped, but he turned away before he could see it.

Christophe was on that package in a second, honestly not caring anymore himself. Not particularly stressed about anything, he just needed it out of habit more than anything. He leaned to kiss Gregory on the temple forgivingly before propping his ankle up on his knee and enjoying the smooth taste of tobacco and nicotine as his filled his lungs.

"When weel zis focking flight end?"


----


Kyle had kind of seen something along the lines of this kind of reaction coming, but that didn't mean to say that he wasn't entirely scared shitless. The fear was visible in his face in every aspect and feature, and he could do little more than watch helplessly as him and Kenny grappled at eachother against the wall until finally Ken was flung free and Craig flew past him like he was a ghost to embrace the hysteric Thomas on the floor.

Craig's words cut him deep even though he was totally used to such namedropping from Cartman, but the fact that they came from someone he barely ever saw bit into him where it hurt the most. He drew his hands up against his chest, tears beginning to seep down his face as he stood between Kenny and the hugging couple behind him. Feeling Kenny sink around him drew him out of his kind of unconscious state and he jumped, muscles twitching on the verge of a panic before he sunk into Kenny's arms, only then realizing how badly he was actually shaking.

Moisture dripped into his hair and he glanced up, realizing at last the severity of Kenny's cheek. Feeling even more faint and ill than he had moments ago, he rose a hand to gently ease Kenny off of him with his spread palm and instead walk to one of the drawers of the emergency room to fish out a few gauze patches and some medical tape with a cloth and antibiotic cream.

Shakily picking up the fold-up chair that had caused Kenny's injury, he pushed him down into the seat and tended to Kenny's face with his back to Craig and Thomas in silence, still quivering like a dead leaf in autumn. Running a hand over the bandage once it was placed appropriately, he lifted his arms to pull Kenny's face against his chest, leaning his face into the blond's hair and squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he tried to hold back any more tears. "I better just go... I'll meet you in the lobby," he whispered quietly, lifting the blond's head up to kiss him on the forehead before quietly sliding out of the hospital room.

Tweek had been lying in a state of half-consciousness for some time, still trying to get a grip on reality as his head struggled to clear. The grey bordering an olive green eyes that he'd always had were dipping, rolling and jittering as he tried to focus, his pupils still massive pools of reflective black void and hiding the majority of his actual eyecolour. His jaw went a bit slack slightly as colours mingled with the blinding whites of the room, and he finally managed to roll his head with his eyes following slowly behind. Lips slack, the meth addict's body twitched violently a few times, enough to stir an ached crackle from his throat as he noted something red flying by his vision. It disappeared into the masses of white with the quiet squeak of something like hinges.

The rest of the room was daunted only by blue, black, yellow, and olive, the colours that made up the shapes of his two lovers. Tweek blinked, staring above their heads instead of at them directly, as though it was a chore to figure out where they actually were. Eventually, however, his eyes drifted back to the brighter shape in the corner as his vision sharpened violently and he realized that he was in a hospital.

If this didn't terrify Tweek, the face that he had something obstructing his face and the fact that he was strapped down to a bed did, and his heartbeat began to raise notably with panic on his monitor as he moved his legs under the sheets uncomfortably. A frightened squeak came from from within the confinement of his oxygen feed and his shoulders twitched as his body maintained it's using nervous vibration that it always did.

In his still partial delirium, the scariest thing was probably that the first thing he was seeing was Kenny. This convinced him enough to believe that something had happened to Craig and Thomas, and the drugs still daunting his system made his paranoia only grow as he deer-eyed the hospital room like he had woken up underwater in a glass box or something. Tugging his limbs at the buckles, two two each stray limp, he flinched and crushed his eyes shut in pain as his struggles moved the needle of his intravenous in his right hand, and that was enough to stop him from trying to break free.

Looking at Kenny with distressed and slightly sunken eyes, now unable to find what he had presumably dreamed up Craig and Thomas in his vision, he finally managed to find his voice as he twitched, eyes swimming and darting about both highly and out of anxiety. "Where are they!? Oh my god--" his voice was shrill and grainy as he called out, straining his head to see in all directions. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to get the flying ******** out of there. Right now. This was the worst possible place to wake up in, not only because of the fact that he was a patient, but the fact that he couldn't see the two most important people in his entire life spoke to him that something had become of them as well, and he began to twitch and shake even more.

"Let me out -- l-let me out, I need to find them- I can't -- can't -- AGH!" he ticked as he quaked, the pains of withdrawal starting to set in. He rolled his head to the side slightly to face the wall, staring around at the white walls and only feeling more and more afraid. It was like locking a bird in a glass box in a way, his eyes playing pingpong with the walls as mind played vulgar tricks on his head and vision, almost entirely seeming to forget Kenny was there as his chest rose and fell in sharp breaths.

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Greg turned as red as a tomato when Christophe stuck his hand up his dress, staring at his boyfriend with wide eyes as Chris unashamedly felt him up. The second Chris removed his hands and grabbed a cigarette, Greg swatted him away, looking pissed off as he crossed his arms before that same a*****e smirk crossed his face. He got on his knees on the seat, pressing soft pink lips to Christophe’s cheekbone and moving so he was flush against his lover, running a hand through the other’s dark hair and smirking at him. “Oh, no, you’re right, Christophe. We didn’t do anything. However… You’re auditioning for a porn movie when we get to Colorado. I’m already in.”

Filmore’s face lit up and he gave Ike an appreciative look before setting his sights on Gregory, holding his hand out to the blonde in front of him, giving a heart-melting smile. “Hey. I’m Filmore Anderson. I’m going to be your co-star. Me and Aislin will walk you through everything, babe, don’t you even worry.”

Gregory smiled and shot Christophe a look, turning and taking Filmore’s hand appreciatively before plunking down in Christophe’s lap and looking Filmore over. “You can call me Sofia.” He looked over his shoulder at Christophe and gave him a sweet smile before leaning over, tugging Filmore forward and crushing their lips together for a few long, drawn out moments in which Filmore tangled his tongue with the British man’s. The porn star leaned over across Ike, a hand on the nape of Greg’s neck, and they were there for a few moments, tongues clashing.

Gregory finally broke the kiss, pulling back and panting softly, his face flushed red as he leaned against Christophe, who was his seat for the moment. He smirked at Filmore, who gave him a knowing look in return, and turned slightly, lifting Christophe’s cigarette easily and taking a puff, scanning the aisle for any flight attendants before handing the cigarette back to Chris and giving him a light kiss. “Don’t stick your hand up my dress again or I’ll punch you. You should know I wouldn’t have sex with another man if you aren’t there; you shouldn’t need to stick your hand in my underwear to figure that out.”

Filmore drew Ike close and pressed his lips to the Canadian’s ear as he murmured, “He’s cute, babe. You think his boyfriend’ll let him do it, though?”


[------]


Kenny was dazed and bleeding, and his head hurt and he just felt like he was about to pass out at any second. It hurt, and he didn’t want to be here all of a sudden. He wanted to be home, and he wanted to be cuddled up beside Kevin with his arms around Kyle, and he didn’t want to be dealing with three broken childhood friends. They had all grown up wrong. They had all ******** up in the past and they were all ******** up now and it was all he could do to keep himself from screaming.

Kyle left him and Ken reached for his lover before the door shut. He was in the process of getting up, as confused as he was, when Tweek started, well, tweeking out. Craig and Thomas were on their feet in a second, Craig stumbling to Tweek’s bedside and putting a hand on Tweek’s face, desperation apparent on his face even as the dam broke and tears started streaming down the dark-haired man’s cheeks, his heartbreak apparent in his voice. “T-Tweekers, why would you do this to us?” He dropped to his knees beside the bed, sobbing whole-heartedly now as Thomas stood there, face pressed against the sleeves of the oversized jacket he was wearing, curses leaving his lips every few seconds as he cried.

Craig pulled Thomas down next to him and the blonde broke down again, resting his head against Tweek’s chest as best he could as he cried. Craig ran his hand lightly over Tweek’s face, his blue eyes wide and overwhelmed. “Tweekers, we love you. Come back to us, Tweek… please… god, please don’t leave us like this…” He squeezed his eyes shut and choked out, “I’m so scared, Tweekers…”

Thomas sat up a little, hugging Craig tightly and looking at his dark-haired lover, placing his hands on his cheeks and pulling him into a gentle kiss. “Stop –s**t- crying, Craig… It’ll be all right…”

Kenny had slipped out when Craig had begun crying, feeling as though he were accidentally privy to something that he shouldn’t have been witness too. He made his way to the waiting room, his gauze starting to stain red with blood, and spotted Kyle immediately. The blonde walked over and sat down next to his lover, lacing his hands in his lap. He bit his lower lip, sitting in silence for the longest time, and then practically dove on Kyle, pinning him to the chairs and kissing him repeatedly on the lips.

He lay on top on of Kyle, his face in the redhead’s neck. Kenny didn’t care who was looking at them; his heart was pounding and he was quite honestly freaking out. They had both done drugs as teenagers, and although now even if Kyle did O.D on something he would be right back, the thought scared the ******** out of him.

Kenny spoke, his voice cracking slightly. “Kyle, I love you… please… don’t ever… don’t hurt yourself ever… please…”