I just love, love Gregstophe! So this will definitely not be a one-shot. Enjoy!

Hold the ice

"All right, here is the plan." The general slapped his papers down onto his desk and gave the platoon a stern and intense look.

"We march into the building and start searching for the computer. It has to be a pink one." Christophe nodded and wrote it down on his note paper using a an empty beer bottle. In the background a phone started ringing. The general suddenly sprouted enormous ladybug wings.

"All right, let's be off." He turned to the window and unlocked it. He had one leg already outside before he turned to Christophe.

"Could you get that before we leave?"

"What?"

"The phone! Answer the phone!"

Christophe's eyes snapped open. Another dream. And a weird one at that. He hardly dreamed unless he was stressed out or extremely pissed off about something. Lately he had been forced to work a lot more hours because of one of his colleagues quiting unexpectedly. He needed the money but that didn't mean he liked the total disturbance of his personal life. Usually he worked during the evening and the night and slept throughout the day. Right now it was already passed dinner time as he had come home at 6AM and had fallen asleep right after eating something.

He growled and got up, snatching his phone from his bedside table.

"Tweek." It said on the display. Oh Lord, this could not be good.

"What?" He barked as he answered the phone.

"Hi Christophe! GAH! I hope I'm not bothering you?"

"You are."

"UGHN! I'm sorry! But we're having a bit of a situation over here." Christophe closed his eyes in annoyance. How anyone had ever been so dumb as to make Tweek floor manager of the little café down town was beyond him. The blond was nice, sure, but too chaotic to run a café.

"What's ze situation zis time?"

"S-someone booked part of the café for a c-company get-together but, ngh! He called in this morning to notify us he would be bringing more colleagues. Like a lot more. GAH!"

"How much more?"

"He's bringing nearly th-the whole company. NGH! We have to c-close to entire café." Christophe growled in anger. "And I-I know this was s-supposed to be your day off but we could really use your help. PLEASE! You'll get the next two days off! If you can just c-come in today!" Tweeks whining was getting on his nerves.

"FINE!"

"Great, could you come over in an hour?"

"An hour?!"

"Please Christophe we need your help here!" Christophe just growled in answer again, but it was good enough for Tweek apparently.

"Okay, I'll see you then!" The blond boy hang up. Christophe sighed. Why did he have to be surrounded by such idiots. Stuck in that stupid town he had moved to when he was just a kid. And now he was here again, stuck in a dead end job and paying way too much on his rent because the only person willing to sublet an apartment to him was Cartman who was asking an obscene amount of money.

But he had no choice. His last landlord had kicked him out when the authorities had shown up on his doorstep. Apparently googling how to make automatic weapons combined with searching for blue prints of the White House was raising some suspicions to them. Really, he had only been curious.

And he had been so sure his internet connection had been sufficiently closed off! But apparently not. After clearing up everything with the police, bribing some officers as he went, he was released. But of course after that, not one landlord was willing to have him rent one of their apartments. Cartman had been on him immediately, offering him an apartment for an insane amount of money. But he had had no choice, no way was he going back to his mother.

He showered quickly and changed in his working clothes. He decided to just pick up some food on the way to work, even when he despised eating fast and on the street like that. The light outside was already fading, and the darkness of the night was settling in when he arrived at the café. His colleagues were already there, setting up the bar. He walked inside, dumping his stuff in the little room they had for the employees.

He stepped into the bar and looked around. Thank God it was already nearly all set up and ready to go.

"All, right. Let's do zis." He mumbled as he could see the first guest come in.

XXX

He fucking hated lawyers, he decided. Of course it just had to be a law firm that had rented the place. He had only been working for about two hours when he had already had it with the lot of them. They were rowdy, loud, obnoxious and behaved very rude towards the waiters. They ordered non-existing drinks, weird mixes and always find something to whine about. He sighed inwardly as a new group of them pushed towards his bar, shouting orders at him.

"I'll have a white Russian!"

"How many beers again? Oh right, 9."

"Yes, can I get two Mai Tais? One of them with no lime juice and instead of dark rum I want kahlua."

"For me two Cuba Libres. And can you hold the ice? Last time you added it without asking me." Christophe just grumbled something and starting mixing the drinks. He really wasn't up for annoying customers like those.

"Yes, and I want a double Martini, thank you very much." Another one added. Christophe didn't waste any time and got the beers. He put all the drinks down on the counter, accepting their money and barked out:

"Zere! And now leave, I'm done wiz you!" Most of them looked offended but he just turned away and grabbed a towel and started cleaning some glasses. Vaguely he noticed how another lawyer had waited for his colleagues to leave and had moved forward to lean on the counter.

"Well, well, fancy meeting you here. Although, maybe you're done with me too." That voice.

That taunting, flirtatious and confident voice. He knew that voice. He knew that voice very, very well. He had heard it when it was still high as a child, heard it break and stumble when puberty hit and had admired it when it finally fell into adulthood: smooth, low and so extremely British that it set all his French nerves on fire.

And not only with annoyance. O, certainly not.

He turned around and met the astonishing blue eyes of the man he hadn't seen in 7 years.

They were still the bluest he had ever seen.

"Can I help you, sir?" He said politely. Not at all like he had sounded to the other guests.

"What, not going to say 'hi' to an old friend." With a flick some blond hair was whipped away from those blue eyes as they danced with mirth. He could not resist that voice so he walked around the bar, dropping the towel on the bar without a second thought. He was pulled into a hug before he could do anything about it. Not that he would have.

"It's good to see you again, Christophe."

"Eet's good seeing you too, Gregory." His face was practically stuffed with blond locks. They were soft, impeccably cut and were an perfect mixture of slight curls and soft strands. Perfect to Christophe at least, who had always thought his own hair was sometimes too permanently messy. Not that he minded, but he didn't know if Gregory liked that or not. Not that he cared, of course.

They withdrew from each other but Gregory still held him close, his hands on his upper arms. The blond was obviously taking in his appearance. Christophe was doing the same. Gregory wore a suit like all the other men there. But it fitted him better than the others. It was a simple black suit, with a white shirt underneath. He didn't wear a tie like the rest but he did wear a tiny pin of the Union Jack on his lapel.

Underneath his clothes his form was still quite visible. He was tall, about 3 inches taller than Christophe, who was stocky and had for some reason missed a grow spurt. Gregory had filled out over the years, he had more muscles on his frame but also a bit of fat. Christophe thought he looked gorgeous.

"So, how have you been?" Gregory started, eyes still travelling over Christophe's form. "I didn't know you were back in South Park."

Christophe laughed and detached himself from the blond.

"Well, eet wasn't entirely voluntarily. I 'ad to, I couldn't find a place to live elsewhere. But otherwise I'm doing fine."

"You don't like where you live now?"

Gregory watched as Christophe walked back behind the bar again.

"No, not really. Eet's too small, too expensive." But he waved his hand. "But enough about zat. What about you?" Gregory twirled the straw of his half finished drink between his fingers before replying.

"I'm doing fine, I work as a lawyer now, over in Denver. It's a busy job but I like it a lot."

"I bet you make a lot of money." Christophe said absentmindedly.

"It's not all about the money." Gregory replied dryly. Christophe just grinned at him and the blond smiled back.

"It really is good seeing you again, Christophe." Gregory repeated.

"Yes, you already said that." He joked back. But he smiled and started cleaning some glasses.

"Have you been in touch with other people from our past?"

"Only my boss Tweek and zat fat bastard Eric Cartman. I'm renting one of his apartments."

"Oh Lord, that must be awful."

"Yes, 'ence me paying too much."

"Hence?" Gregory quoted. "My, my we really haven't seen each other a long time. Even your vocabulary is improving." Christophe stopped cleaning the glasses and looked at him. Gregory was leaning on the bar, a big smile on his face and eyes glinting with mischief and a taunting rebelliousness.

"You still see me as a little French bastard."

"And you still see me as a arrogant British asshole." Christophe had to hide his shock caused by Gregory's swearing.

"Well yes. Zat's because you are." Gregory barked out a laugh. Just then Tweek ran up to the bar.

"Christophe. Ngh! Can you go to the window, they want new drinks there!" Christophe sighed and nodded.

"Okay, fine." His eyes caught Gregory's again. "I 'ave to get back to work." Gregory nodded and whispered as Tweek walked away.

"They can be quite awful." He indicated to the lawyers near the window.

"Well, not all of zem." Christophe said and then quickly made his way towards the window. The lawyers were turning louder and rowdier by the minute. Ordering more and more drinks and they started shouting and singing at random. Thankfully quite a lot of them were already falling asleep or going home. Christophe took that opportunity to clean some tables near Gregory, who took the hint and came to talk to him.

"So, where have you been all these years? You just left after graduation and I never heard from you again." He asked as Christophe was wiping a table with his cloth.

"I know, I just wanted to leave and left ze country to travel."

"Where to?"

"Eastern Europe, Africa, South America and zen back 'ere."

"That sounds very interesting."

"Yes, it was. Especially Eastern Europe is lovely, really friendly people over zere."

"Any education?" It was asked unobtrusively but he knew it mattered a great deal to Gregory. He had to bite back a lie.

"No, not really. I sort of educated myself in computers and programming, because that always comes in handy. You?" He added quickly, wanting to drop the subject about himself.

"Law school." Gregory replied dryly. Christophe snorted.

"I can see that. But anything else?"

"No, no travelling for me, unfortunately. Just work and school."

"Waiter!" A loud voice came from behind them.

"Ugh, well, zat is my work. Excuse me."

After a while the lawyers were just talking to each other and laughing. Christophe took the opportunity to talk to Gregory some more. Chatting about high school and their current lives as he walked between the bar and costumers or when he was mixing new drinks and Gregory would lean over the bar to talk to him.

He knew he was not doing his job properly but he didn't care. He was called to work again and if he wanted to talk some more to one particular costumer then he could do that. The blond was thoroughly distracting him whether he talked to him or not.
The way his suit clung to his body was making him think of things he should not be thinking. Like bending him over one of the tables. Or dropping to his knees and unzipping those classy slacks to take him in his mouth. But he shook those thoughts away, just wanting to talk to his old friend. Fantasizing was something he could also do after work when he was in his bed.

He had probably always known he was gay. As a teenager, when other boys started talking about girls and what they did to them all he could think about what his male classmates would look like during that. Not the girls they were with.

And then he had walked in on Gregory in the shower after gym.

The way those droplets slid down Gregory's back as he showered, his hands massaging shampoo into his hair, eyes closed, a relaxed and content expression on his face... Right then and there he had known for sure: he was really, totally and completely gay. He had never told it to his friend. Not because he was ashamed or anything, but because he was afraid it might change their friendship. Gregory's parents were quite conservative on those matters and Gregory himself was rather closed up about such issues. He always said people were free to be and do what they wanted, but how he himself thought about it was still unclear to him.

Though, Christophe mused, as he saw Gregory lean on the table in front of him, there was something undeniably feminine about him. His hair was absolutely flawless and when he had walked past him he had noticed it smelled fantastic as well. But that didn't mean anything. And even if Gregory were gay, that did not necessarily mean he was Gregory's type.

The place was getting quieter and he cleaned some more tables, absentmindedly thinking of how Gregory would look, gripping the edge of it for dear life as he-. Gregory suddenly reappeared in front of him, slightly blushing.

Gregory grinned and Christophe knew it was because he was a bit drunk like his colleagues. No surprise there, Christophe had been slipping him free drinks all night. The blond seemed to be pondering something before leaning in to whisper urgently in Christophe's face:

"I have an apartment in Denver and it so happens that it has three bedrooms. I'm using one of them and I have the other one changed into an office. But I have not yet found use of the third one."

Christophe was silent. He knew what Gregory was hinting at but didn't dare to believe it just yet.

"You can rent it if you want to." The blond finished. Christophe eyed Gregory with some wariness, Gregory kept talking.

"Think about it. It will be so much better than that apartment you're renting right now."

Anger flared up inside Christophe. His pride stepping in, forcing an angry reply out of his mouth:

"You can't just whisk me away like you're some fucking prince."

"Can't I?" He quirked a perfect blond eyebrow at him.

"No!"

"Tell you what." Gregory licked his lips and stepped closer, to lean in and whisper in his ear. Christophe repressed a shiver that was threatening to rush over him as the blond's warm breath breezed over his ear.

"You don't accept my offer, and you just stay here. In this town I know you despise, working a job way below your level and living somewhere too expensive." Gregory leaned in even more and if Christophe didn't know any better he would have thought he was being hit on. The blond certainly got very flirtatious when he had been drinking.

"You go ahead and do that. I bet you hate the fact that my offer is tempting you, giving you a chance to get away. Perhaps even more so because it's a Brit who's offering. So go ahead, Christophe." The way he whispered his name surged straight to his dick. "Stay here."

Christophe balled his free hand into a fist. The offer Gregory made was indeed very tempting. Too tempting.

"So how much is the rent of the room?" He finally whispered back.

"We can think of a price once you move in, but I can promise you right now it'll be less than what you're paying now." He sounded so smug while saying that, as if he knew he had won.

"When can I move in?"

"Whenever you want."

Christophe was silent.

"No." He decided and he stepped away. Gregory didn't seem fazed at all by his response.

"Okay."

"There you are!" A loud voice came from behind them. Two lawyers, obviously drunk, came forward and grabbed Gregory by his jacket.

"You're on the David Weatherhead case aren't? You have to tell them what your client said the other day, that was just funny beyond words!" Gregory shot him an apologetic look as he was pulled towards the other end of the room, leaving him standing alone at the table.

XXX

He went outside for a last smoke and was only slightly surprised when, when he was nearly done, Gregory came outside too, holding a coat.

"Ah, there you are. Thought I should say goodbye."

"Hm." He blew out some smoke.

"Still saying no?"

"Yes."

Gregory nodded and put on his coat.

"All right then. But if you ever change your mind…" He extracted his wallet from his pocket and handed Christophe one of his cards. Christophe pocketed it quickly.

"My number is on there, so call me. When you have come to your senses. I'll see you around." Gregory slapped him on the back and walked away. Christophe watched him go, noticing the sway in his hips as he walked.

"Bastard." He muttered. He felt slightly disappointed when he realized he would not be able to see the fabulous blond locks when he would go back inside.

I love the idea of Christophe travelling, it just seems so fitting :)

Next up: Christophe's acceptance or refusal of Gregory's offer. Hmmm...