The Jew was an oddity, that much was certain. A person he had trouble both understanding or predicting no matter how much time he spent with him. The one thing he knew to be fact was that the older Broflovski boy never once put up with his shit. When he punched, he punched back. When there was an argument, the Jew never so much as backed down as he spun so many webs of logical explanations that often led to him becoming increasingly more furious. But in the end, as much as he was unlikely to admit, he'd come to trust him when he needed somewhere to crash or a place to eat when he was starved. He had grown fond of the hacker he'd entangled up in his business of deceit and secretive works.
And then there were the moments he- though not even Death would make him admit it- anticipated seeing the redheaded male.
They were partners. Kyle called them friends.
Christophe didn't care much for titles.
There was only one thing on the Frenchman's mind and that was being able to monopolize the Jew now that Stan and Kenny were busy with school essays they had both procrastinated on. He'd been curious about Kyle's reluctance to assist either of the two but quickly discovered that an argument between he and the Marsh boy had left the Jew sore and irritated with his best friend.
Who was he to care? More time for him.
But monopolizing aside, there were those urges, deep and troubling. The urge to touch the other male, swat at him, paw at him, anything. There had already been an occasion when those same urges had led him to spontaneously bed the young man.
And he certainly hadn't come out disappointed.
It had been an act of persuasion that had led to the redhead giving in to him; teasing touches and clever words filled with lust. In the end, satisfied had been the understatement and so it left him to wonder.
What would it be like if Kyle were to be the one to initiate?
Now that was an intriguing thought, one that teased him deeply.
But ultimately it was a thought for later now that those urges were coming back and with a vengeance. They didn't stop, oh no, they'd gotten worse ever since he noticed them, noticed Kyle. It was compelling, infectious, and he couldn't stop himself, couldn't help himself when he saw him.
More importantly, when he saw them.
It wasn't the first time he'd seen the shirtless, but the other times it'd been too dark to see, too dim to notice. This didn't deter him in the slightest now that's he'd finally begun to see the sprinkles of light brown marks spattered across his shoulders and placed randomly about his back. The mercenary was fascinated with these marks, his own roughly calloused hands reaching out impulsively to halt Kyle's progress in changing clothes and startling the other male.
"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" The Jew was looking over his shoulder now, one red brow raised and unable to properly face him with Christophe's hands holding him in place.
The Frenchman's fascination with the marks dusted over the skin of the Jewish boy was innocent enough, he'd never seen anyone with so many freckles on their skin so closely before. His previous lover had smooth, milky white skin that had carried no blemishes whatsoever. These new light tiny specks caught Christophe's attention almost immediately.
"Shut ze fuck up," he growled in turn as he dragged his nails over his back, leaving long angry marks with hands having difficulty being gentle in the slightest.
"Ah! Shit, dude!" Kyle jumped and made to move away from him only to have Christophe's hand reach out and catch the waistband of his jeans quickly to halt and drag him back. The redhead grunted and glared over his shoulder again, brow knit together in irritation. "What in the hell are you even doing?"
"Ze marks on your back," he inquired softly, "zey are called.. freckles, oui?" Christophe traced his fingers lightly over a few of the marks, noting their shape and the way a few of them seem to just barely rise up from the skin. He didn't bother to look up at the Broflovski boy, though he could feel his eyes resting accusingly on him. He kept his attention on the spots that were now growing red splotches around them due to the rough treatment they were enduring from the Frenchman.
"Yeah, they are. Some of them are moles though." The Jewish male's tone was amused rather than irritated now, tolerant in a manner that only he could pull off. He didn't bother to look up to see if there was any change in his expression, now distracted by the mention of 'moles'.
A hand reached back and blindly touched at his own lower back in a 'look here' motion. "There should be one around here. I know my birthmark is about.. ah, here." The fingers traced an odd shape of darkened skin near the base of his spine, drawing the dark haired male's attention.
"Moles.." he mused, soon replacing Kyle's fingers with his own. He let them travel gently over the discolored skin, trying to make sense of the shape. Finally he let his eyes meet the Jew's, muddy brown locking with light green. His expression was suddenly apathetic, guarded now that he'd turned his attention from the marks on the skin of the others back, but it wasn't long before something else grabbed at him.
The Broflovski boy had freckled on his face as well.
How had he missed those?
The Frenchman grunted over his own obliviousness, agitated with the idea that he'd overlooked something like them in a place so painfully obvious. Further observation granted him a possible excuse; they were so subtle, light. It was a wonder anyone noticed them at all when you weren't looking for them, or perhaps it came down to the face that Christophe never truly looked him full in the face. The specks of light brown were peppered sparingly over each of the Jew's cheeks and he was positive that, if permitted, he could find even more of these curious marks in more hidden areas.
The redhead was furrowing his brow at him again, his expression a mixture of agitated curiosity and bemusement from the way the other male was looking at him.
Fuck being allowed, he'd look anyway.
He gripped him firmly again, one hand turnimg Kyle's face away forcefully by the chin while the other cupped his shoulder in a steady grip. There was a grunt, an echo of irritation but Christophe dismissed it as he took the moment to hover closer to his back instead. Dark eyes flitted a searching and curious gaze along his skin, further noting the randomly placed flecks dotting up along his neck and down to his back from the clusters that splattered his shoulders. Sliding from his shoulder, his hand traced the skin as his chapped lips smirked mockingly at the way Kyle's skin prickled with goosebumps beneath his callous digits. Christophe soon found himself chuckling absently.
"You're fucking weird, Mole."
He grunted in response, hand wandering once more to curiously touch the mole Kyle had vaguely motioned toward before. There was a pause before his fingers slid into the Jewish male's waistband again, dragging him backward without warning and startling the other male for the second time. He stopped next to the bed, sitting down on the piece of furniture carelessly and ignoring the protesting noises of agitation coming from the other man.
"Mole, are you really so fascinated with them?"
The Frenchman heard a slight snort and a mutter of something about Cavemen. He didn't quite understand what he meant by the remark.
"Just 'old steel." He gripped his hips firmly, letting his words sink in as he stared at the expanse of skin level with his eyes now. The dark-haired man knew if he leaned forward he could touch his nose to the small of the Jew's back, something that intrigued him for entirely different reasons.
Gazing closer to where his attention had previously laid, Christophe eyed one of the 'moles' that intrigued him so. It wasn't like any mole he'd once seen before.. no, these were an off brown color, raised from the skin around it but not atrociously so like the dark mass of.. mole he'd once witnessed on a woman's neck.
He would never understand the appeal of them when they were all selfish bitches with hidden agendas. The mercenary vaguely recalled the Jew telling him that he didn't mind women, had a woman as his first, but he couldn't be bothered to try and understand the gain. They were all so- so damn-
"Christophe?" the use of his real name caught his attention as he realized he'd paused his explorations during his mental confrontation with the opposite gender.
"It's just you got.. awfully still, du- ah!" Kyle tensed, standing straight as Christophe's tongue suddenly slid thick and hot up the length of his spine, tracing every vertebrae with careful precision and deligence. The older of the two grinned as he felt the shudder that rippled down that same spine, knowing he had found the perfect way to distract the other man.
"Zer are more.. right?"
Kyle didn't answer.
Shovel hardened fingers slid along his hips, the calloused pads sliding around to find the front of the Jewish male's jeans and working carefully and effeciently as he undid them. He could feel the heat of his skin and the stiffening length beneath the tough material even as he was just beginning to open it. A smirk turned up his lips again, his nose touching his back lightly enough to make Kyle shiver again as he moved his face down once more.
"Oh, you are.. excited, oui?" he chuckled lightly, unzipping the material now before gripping the waistband tightly on either side and wiggling them down over slender hipbones. "And 'ow long 'ave you been.. 'ard, Broflovski?"
"... shut up."
"Eez eet becauze I am.. toucheeng you?"
There was a soft noise, a halfhearted protest cut short by the unceremonious and sudden tugging of his jeans down to his ankles, along with the chill of the room as the Jew was quick to realize Christophe had yanked his boxers as well without his realizing. The redhead shivered as the mercenary uttered a dry chuckle, his hands sliding back up his thighs and pulling the other close again for further inspection.
"Ah, you see? Zer are more."
Kyle ignored the remark though he could see him by peering over his shoulder again, curious and only modestly bothered by his own sudden nudity. They both knew there was no point in him covering up, Christophe would just yank his hands away.
But he'd been right, the freckles continued across his skin that, the more Christophe looked, seemed uneven in its tone. Where his rear was pale, his back in comparison was healthy in color, something Christophe found oddly nice as he studied the gathering of freckles on either of his ass cheeks. His thumb brushed a small group, his face the very picture of childish curiosity when his expression suddenly turned wicked. With a quick move, his fingers slid between the Jew's legs, swiping along his anatomy suddenly.
Kyle jumped and stepped forward, intending to escape the others grasp only to have his forearms seized and yanked back in a sudden move as Christophe sat back quickly. A strangled yell broke free of his startled mouth as he was planted between the Frenchman's spread legs on the bed unceremoniously. The more indoor oriented of the two strained against him, leaning forward as Christophe stretched his arms out behind him before hurriedly pressing against him, chapped lips pressed to the back of his neck.
"Ah.. Christophe.. Let g-go," the protest was weak, breath hitching in a telling manner as teeth found the tender skin and bared down teasingly. Another shudder and a hiccup of breath encouraged him to suck on the section of skin he'd caught between his teeth, mouth moving without mercy as the redhead stilled in his grasp.
Taking this new passivity as permission to advance, the mercenary let both of his disciplined yet experienced hands travel forth onto Kyle's stomach. He felt the light rise and fall beneath his touch, only the sharp intake of breath here and there breaking the steady pattern before he felt the weight of Kyle's head fall back and rest against him.
A faintly raised mark on the skin of the Jew's stomach delighted the Frenchman even though he could not see it, face buried still into the back of Kyle's neck as he continued to harshly mark the skin. Christophe ran the course pad of one finger over the mark continuously; back and forth, forward and back. He couldn't stop the grin that suddenly played on his face as he thought once again of the word 'moles', his mouth left no choice but to release the bruised brown and purple skin it'd been busily pulling at.
Christophe decided, rather on the fly, that the word 'mole' was suddenly more than fitting for the mark. The idea stuck, playing about his mind that no matter whether he stayed around the red haired Jew or not, Kyle would be forced to think of the gruff Frenchman every time he glanced at his own body.
He was a part of Kyle and there was nothing he could do about it.
It made him.. his.
Part of him wondered why the thought pleased him so.
The other part very well didn't give a shit.
They were moving again, the elder of the two turning and forcing the other to crawl properly onto the bed through a series of half gentle pushes. He was awarded an irritated glare but no complaint as the other rubbed the tender skin on the back of his neck. Christophe crawled after him, very much like the hunter he often was as he glowered back at the other male. A foot lashed out, catching his shoulder in a painful kick and he swore loudly, hand darting forward to snatch his ankle.
"Beetch! Do not 'it me!"
"That's what you get, asslicker!"
His back met the wall his bed pressed against and in an instant, the Frenchman was there, mashing their mouths together in a clash of tongue and teeth. They bit and sucked, lips quick to bruise beneath the force of passion as tongues entangled and hands gripped tightly at one another. Fingers slid under the hem of Christophe's shirt, the long digits working the dark fabric up and forcing them to break apart momentarily if only to pull the material over his head.
"Goddamn beetch.." the growl brought forth yet another sweet shudder as he pressed his lips to his ear, rough fingers tangling into the thick red curls of his hair to yank his head back. He felt the arch of the Jew's back as his teeth found the skin of his neck again, blunt nails digging into the skin of his shoulder as he slid forward. The Frenchman pinned him properly between himself and the wall, his free hand working to wrap the redhead's legs around his waist as he sat between them.
A hiss sang between them as his hips bucked forward, rubbing the front of his dark pants and the erection confined within them against Kyle's. That long, toned torso arched in his hands again, never failing to excite him with the way he seemed to move so tantalizingly without trying. Another roll of hips awarded him that same delicious slide of friction and a strangled moan from the pinned redhead. He grinned wolfishly as his fingers twisted further into the mass of curls on the other man's head and he exposed more of that long column of flesh to his teeth until Kyle's breath was erratic and strained with the sensations and odd angle.
A rhythm built up through the animalistic grinding of the Frenchman's hips into the subtle roll of the others, their breathing quickening with the pace and need that infected the blood that pumped through their hearts hard and fast. It was a teasing pace despite the rough handling, Christophe set on driving the other man wild as he moved, knowing that the fabric of his jeans were doing both bad and good. The strained noises that crept from the Kyle fueled him, tempted him and he was sure the Jew wasn't aware of what he was capable of. His hand released its hold on his thick curls and Kyle's body instantly relaxed the arch it'd held during the forceful hold as Christophe's hips slowed their insistant movements.
But he wasn't quite off the hook, not yet.
The redhead's panted breaths cut short with the invasion of rough and potentially dirty fingers sliding through his lips suddenly, eliciting a startled sound of protest. The sound died with another short undulation of the other man's hips and a pressing look, his teeth loosening the light bite he'd begun to press into the tough skin of the digits. Their eyes met again, the hazel green of Kyle's gaze holding a challenge as he stared the other man down. The sports calloused fingers of the Jew gripped his wrist, holding tight as his mouth worked around Christophe's fingers. The heavy breaths of the slighter man redirected themselves through his nose, brushing the top of his hand with each exhale as the slick wet muscle of his mouth slid teasingly along his fingers, dipping playfully between the two that the Frenchman had shoved into his mouth.
It was a miracle he hadn't stopped breathing from the sudden shallow characteristic his breath had taken on.
Christophe's dark brow furrowed as he felt that insistant and familiar ache settle in his groin, his cock straining against the inside of his pants now as he watched the erotic new display.
Well, he had wondered what it would be like if Kyle took initiative.
"Sheet, Broflovski.." his words were a harsh growl as he ripped his hand away, spending little to no time sliding his hand between his legs. Their chests pressed harshly against one another, pushing Kyle harder into the wall as he nestled properly into the thighs wrapped around his waist. The slighter of the two slapped his palms flat to the wall, body rigid with attention from the sudden and determined touch to a place Christophe knew must have had every hair on the others curly haired head standing on edge. He applied pressure, insistent and unyielding as he wiggled his digits past the forceful muscle caught between defending his insides and crying surrender. A soft grunt caught his attention, the other squirming in his man-made 'seat' as he hissed through teeth no doubt holding back a few choice curse words toward the Frenchman's less than gentle handling. He merely responded with a taunting smirk, his heavily calloused fingers sliding deeper with the assistance of spit-fueled lubrication. Another grunt , half caught in his throat had Kyle's head falling back with a dull thud, his body shivering with the effort to relax and ease the intrusion.
"Y-you're.. a dick.."
A dry chuckle met the Jew's breathless words, those same digits stroking his insides as they persuaded him back into a half-strangled silence with teasing touches to his prostate once it was found. His cock twitched and throbbed from the way Kyle's body quivered from the fleeting sparks of pleasure, the movement of his fingers kept short, taunting, distracting in their task to keep the redhead from concentrating on the sting of discomfort. The brunette scissored his fingers, forcing his walls to comply to his needs as they stretched beneath his resolve.
His free hand stroked his chest absently, feeling the firmness beneath the skin as he changed his pattern up with a harsh thrust. The sharp arch of the torso beneath his large hand intrigued him, his eyes intent on the sight before him as he stroked his thumb over a hardened nipple. He watched every tremor and tremble of flexing muscle hard-won through years of basketball, fascinated now that he could see everything the Jew did in reaction to whatever he did to tease him. He couldn't recall the last time he'd paid so much attention to the things another person's body did during sex. Then again, no one was as oddly intriguing or frustrating as Kyle himself.
Christophe furrowed his brow slightly, giving the other a pointed jab now that had Kyle bucking forward with a jerk, his mouth dropping open with a sudden unrestrained moan. The Frenchman grunted, the others hips making brief contact with his as they rolled forward. His cock throbbed in response, eager for more as he felt himself leak into the fabric of his boxers. A growl caught in his throat, the Jew's hips rolling forward again as his legs drew up. Christophe slid his hand free, moving back from between the others legs to turn him.
"Face ze wall, Broflovski."
Kyle furrowed his brow as his only response, the Frenchman's hands already at the task of flipping him around. He was by no means a small person in comparison despite his slighter build, taller than the other in fact, but the mercenary still managed to do it without too much trouble. He didn't have time to be bothered by the act, the brunette busy pushing him against the wall, his body propped up on his knees and back forced to literally bend down to his will. He glared over his shoulder, the Frenchman raising a brow before reaching forward and turning his face back to the wall.
Truthfully, he got a kick out of making the willful Jew do things.
He wondered if perhaps Kyle got a similar kick out of it.
He glanced at the young man before him, his muddy eyes gliding along the provocative position he had set him in as his hand slid along the curve of his back to the ass he secretly enjoyed immensely when the Jew's back was turned. It was then he noticed the marks sprinkled faintly down the curve of his rear.
Christophe had never attacked his belt with such a savage need, ripping the contraption open and barely taking the time to yank his shirt over his head. Kyle seemed to grow alarmed with the sudden frantic movement behind him, curiously peering over his shoulder just in time to see the Frenchman yank his pants open and begin to bare down against him.
"W- Hey! Wait! Jesus dude, use a fucking condom!"
Christophe paused long enough to glare at him, his brow furrowed deeply and expression irritated. He vaguely recalled how they'd used one the first time, the redhead having had enough time to snatch one from his bedside table.
He also decided said table was too far out of his reach and settled on spitting in his hand absently, slathering it along his waiting erection with an in audible groan.
"Beetch, I am clean." The Frenchman grunted, his hand guiding his cock to press again the warmth he very much wanted to feel more of.
"Ugh." Kyle grunted and turned his head back to the wall, momentarily resigned and unwilling to argue more for the moment.
Christophe grinned wide, one step short of sadistic. "-eenough."
The Jew's head whipped around immediately. "WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT ME- AUGH!"
He thrust forward, the redhead's body tense with the sudden intrusion as he slid inside with unmerciful force. A guttural moan slid from his throat, unbidden as he slowed to inch the remainder of his length inside even as he heard the sharp catch of sound in the others throat. "Eet means I do not like... to shower.. now shut ze fuck up."
Christophe bucked his hips forward, finishing his entrance to the hilt and knocking the other forward a bit with the force. The redhead braced himself, hands slapping down onto the wall properly to resist as his head dropped with a ragged groan of defeat, half laced with pain. An absentminded grin of victory found its place on the elder's lips, hips grinding hard against Kyle as he watched the other squirm with a chuckle. He moved slow at first, teasing the Jew as he took his time now that he was finally inside though it'd be hard for him to admit that he was mildly concerned for the pain he knew the other would be experiencing.
His hands slid along the length of the redhead's torso, fingers trailing along his heaving rib cage with blunt nails that raked his paler skin before gripping hard at his waist and giving a short thrust forward. Christophe watched that same length of flesh, bone, and muscle bow and arch followed with the gasping grunt of the young man before him as angry red lines rose and swelled where he'd scratched him. He continued, hips pumping in at a lazy pace that made him groan aloud with the tightness of the body induced heat surrounding his engorged length, the red contrast on his pale skin inciting a new sort of excitement. Nails encrusted with dirt dug into the others hips, his body leaning over to hover above the curving back beneath him as his teeth found a harsh purchase on the redhead's shoulder.
"Ugh! F-fuck Christophe!" It was a pained response, his teeth marring the flesh caught between the rows with a bruising hue of purple as he sucked harshly. The sparse stubble of his chin scraped his pale skin and pulled forth another shuddering hitch of breath that set his blood pumping faster, his heart pounding excitedly in his ears.
"M.. moan for me, Broflovski.." the Frenchman ground out, the words feral and commanding through clenched teeth as his hips snapped forward without warning. The spasmodic clench of muscles and the way the red haired male seemed to jerk pleased him, a startled moan falling from of the others mouth. He chuckled breathlessly, waiting for the other to relax before repeating the same motion.
"Ah.. Ah shit.." Christophe watched as Kyle's nails dug into the wall with a telltale scrape, leading his lips to spread into yet another self-satisfied grin. The Frenchman felt every once of his blood heat with the sound, the effect showing in the way his pace sped up without warning.
There was a sound of confusion, the Jew's voice strangled with shortened breath and scattered thoughts even as his insides spasmed around the Frenchman's length as if he'd understood perfectly.
A harsh slap of skin snapped through the air rang a sharp shout from the redhead, the pale skin of his rear suddenly aflame with a telling redness. Kyle did everything short of writhing now, the sight and sound pleasing him with immense satisfaction in the way he swore and moaned loudly.
Their skin met with wet slaps of perspiring skin as the elder of the two drove himself in harder, deeper, groaning loudly as his cock was squeezed so tantalizingly each time the swollen head brushed against the Jewish man's prostate. The angle changed, his torso leaning forward and suddenly he wasn't simply brushing any longer or even worried that Kyle felt any form of pain any longer, his cock striking that same spot head on now. He couldn't describe the others reaction or the way his whole body seemed to grow taunt with each thrust, that torso heaving with the effort to breathe caught amidst the torrent of groans and swears that cracked and tumbled free of his lips so clumsily yet right.
Christophe's lips found Kyle's ear, his breath hot and heavy as he murmured broken words that the redhead lacked the ability to understand in that moment. They were growled, rough, and sent the Jew into a frenzy that surprised even him. He hadn't quite understood just how much the other male seemed to enjoy it until he felt that sudden clench and realized quickly that the meeting slap of skin was not entirely made by his own hands gripping the others waist.
"Oh.. Oh oui.. oui Kyle," he found himself demanding, voice rough and heavy with need as he felt the slighter man below him rock back forcefully. "Move.. Move."
His pace was becoming erratic, fierce as the heat that had been coiling inside his gut gripped him tightly, warningly. Christophe groaned low, leaning up slightly as he gave the Jew more room to move. His hand slid from his hip before the rough digits gripped hard onto the pulsating arousal of the other man, pumping the weighted erection vigorously without warning. The Frenchman was getting close, jaw clenched with the effort to keep himself in control.
It was becoming a futile effort, the way the precum and spit slicked walls inside Kyle clenched around him so tightly, so enticing, made his body tense and shake as he pounded into him now. His senses faded until all he could hear were the heightening pitch and frantic swears of the other man, the slap of skin, the feel of his insides, and the touch of his skin. He allowed himself to be wrapped up in it when-
"Chris..tophe.. Christophe..! Christophe!"
His orgasm hit him fast and mercilessly at the sound of his name being said so suddenly, so desperately, Kyle's own fast approaching orgasm completely unhinging what restraint the Jew had left on himself. The Frenchman hardly faltered, his cum splashing the others insides with a rush of stinging heat as he continued striking persistently into the others prostate, his hand pumping his cock furiously now. Muddy eyes watched wide and intently as Kyle's whole body seemed to grow completely taunt like a drawn bowstring, his back curving and head tossing back with a half-strangled choke of a moan. Christophe swore roughly, his cock trapped in a vice as the redhead came, fascinated as he watched him, hardly aware that his own lips spilled out hoarse coaxing words in the soothing melody of French.
"Hah.. ugh.." Kyle seemed to uncoil, each of his muscles unlocking and slowly slipping into a relaxed heap of limp limbs and bones as the redhead slowly lowered himself onto the bed, pushing from the wall.
Christophe seemed to watch him in a daze, his own body following instinctively before he hooked his arm around his waist and dragged them back enough so that their heads found the comfort of pillows. He felt the slowing heave of the others lungs at work through the warm wall of his back, his hand absently gripping his stomach until he felt the red-haired male shift with a groan. His brow furrowed and he held onto the other tighter suddenly, possessively as he realized he'd pulled out without noticing in their move.
He didn't want to let go.
It was just sex. There were no feelings or intentions.
It was.. just sex.
Regardless of that fact, the very fact he himself had established the very first time they'd done it, Christophe didn't feel the need to release the other male. He wanted him, to monopolize him, to keep him. He was his and no one else could touch him.
Until he felt good and done with the Jew.
"God.. fucking asshole.." There was a grumble, hoarse and tired.
"Oh ho.. I think we weel be doeeng zat again, Broflovski."
"Oh what so now this is a regular thing?"
"Shut ze fuck up, you like eet."
"... Okay, so I do."
"I'm still going to kick your ass though."
"Ze fuck deed I do?"
"'Clean enough' my a- AUGH."
The Frenchman had slid back inside his stretched and sensitized flesh again without warning, grinning as he quickly pinned Kyle below him, hand in his hair and mouth growling beside his ear. "I am goeeng to fuck you so 'ard you weel not be able to stand, Broflovski. Let's see you kick my ass zen."
Kyle would like it. He was sure of it and even if he didn't, he wasn't sure he cared right then because in that moment, Kyle Broflovski was his and nothing else mattered.
"Bring.. Bring it on, asshole."