#It's Not What You Said It's The Way You Said It (Wendyl and Gregory)

[all-my-friends-were-glorious]

[ @gamblealife LIKED For A Starter || Kyle ]

[ Gregory ]

Much as Gregory hated to say it, he needed help. 

Wendyl had been busy, naturally, which had him turning to the only other person that dared to oppose him intellectually. At least, when they had been in school. Now, he really didn’t know. Kyle had flown under his radar, a forgotten relic of a time when he’d been younger.

Not dumber, of course, because Gregory Chadwick had never been stupid. He’d always been the top of his class in everything, and he knew what was right for the people when they didn’t know themselves.

Even still, he stood near one of the benches at the park, jaw set as he considered how he was going to open. It wasn’t like he’d ever been particularly kind to Kyle, after all. Not that he’d been nice to Wendyl, either, but he’d been much more... Complimentary to the other man.

Kyle had been a rival in a lot of things, and he had never found a way to make peace with him.

Finally, he ran a hand through his hair to be sure it was coiffed just right, before starting onto the basketball court to the steady, hollow thudding of the ball.

“Excuse me, Kyle, if I may--” He winced slightly at another bounce, “Have a word?”

At least he’d managed to stay sober for this. He was beginning to regret that decision, however.

[christophe-delorne]

Good Dog

Chapter 7

Warnings: Excessive swearing

Pairings: Gregory x Christophe

AU: Adulthood

The air port was crowded, with summer beginning, people were filing in for vacation travel. Christophe had never actually properly experienced something the average person would call a vacation, he'd never be able to enjoy himself anyways. He'd been on pretend vacations, a couple with Gregory, faking being happily together while undercover for one reason or another. He hated those times the worst. Though he was certain this whole trip was going to top the list in being the worst trip. He hated America, well more so he hated the people living in it. Gregory said he was just over reacting, well, he wasn't the one to have technically died during their little trip to America as kids.

"Come now, Christophe, grab our bags, we are supposed to check in the hotel in an hour. With traffic the way it is, we will be hard pressed to make it there in time." Gregory's voice broke through Christophe's thoughts, drawing him back to the present, which wasn't exactly what he wanted. Every so often, someone would brush passed him and it was grating on his nerves. Not to mention he hadn't been able to smoke a single cigarette in over eleven hours, he was not in the best of moods to be dealing with people.

Muttering under his breath, Christophe picked the bags off the conveyor belt and extended their handles so he could roll them. As usual Gregory had denied Christophe the right to use his tattered old and trusty suitcase, instead insisting on using suitcases that looked like they cost more than what he spent in an entire year. Or two. Gregory was always one to show off his wealth in subtle ways, elegant, refined, no need to flaunt extravagantly when everyone knew his wealth and status. Christophe pulled the bags behind him as he followed after Gregory, at least the man was useful in the way people seemed to part for him, unlike for some grungy, short Frenchman with an attitude problem.

As they neared the exit doors, Christophe tensed, his gaze flickering towards someone who was approaching them directly ahead with focus set on them. He was ready to step in front of Gregory and attack when Gregory smiled and opened up his arms in welcome. The other person, who Christophe was still trying to figure out, smiled and rushed up to hug Gregory in return. Christophe relaxed in one sense but only felt irritable in another. He turned his head, deciding in favor to observe their surroundings that deal with this shit again.

"Gregory! Its been so long since I've seen you. How was your flight?" Black hair, short but styled in a way that made the person appear male, but Christophe couldn't be fore certain. Something was off, something that maybe the untrained eye couldn't see, but for someone who was used to disguising himself, Christophe knew better. However, Gregory seemed to have been expecting them and didn't glance at Christophe to give the Frenchman any hint to be on guard. So whatever secret this person was hiding, wasn't important enough to warrant further investigation from Christophe.

"Long and dreary, I'm afraid. However, worth the trip to be here once more. So catch me up on all the details on the ride to the hotel, yes?" Gregory had already hooked his arm into the crook of this stranger, seeing how Gregory didn't bother to introduce Christophe, it appeared that his services weren't required. So he just trailed silently after them, having no inclination to join the casual banter anyways. Corprate politics and boring lives of the stranger didn't appeal to Christophe. As they reached the car finally, Christophe shoved the suitcases into the back of the car, a sleek charcoal gray color. Probably electric if Christophe had to guess, but not exactly a family car either.

When Christophe slammed the trunk closed, this seemed to finally catch the stranger's attention, scowling at Christophe in annoyance because he'd been a little too rough with their car. Christophe stared back, daring the other to say something. Eleven fuckin' hours without a god damn smoke in economy class seating, Christophe was not in the mood and was just looking for a fight at this point.

"Ah, my apologies, I got so distracted trying to catch up, I forgot to introduce you two. Christophe, this is Wendyl, Wendyl, this is my co-working, Christophe." Gregory seemed to catch onto the tension and smoothly interjected to cleanly break it.

"Christophe?" Wendyl looked over to Gregory as if trying to gain further information but Gregory provided none. However, Wendyl seemed to be smart enough to start connecting the dots as he turned his gaze back to Christophe. "As I recall, you were the one who failed to save Terrance and Phillip when we were kids. Stan mentioned it a while back, but Kyle doesn't talk much about it."

"I failed?!" Christophe fired off, slamming his fist on the trunk, causing it to dent before Christophe moved around the car towards Wendyl, or Wendy, whichever they decided to call themselves now days. He'd never met them, but when they were kids, Stan hadn't shut up about her at the time. To think that people thought he was to blame for what happened back then, when it wasn't even his fight to begin with? He'd died because of the incompetence of those three other boys, it was an insult to his very name.

"Christophe, that was a long time ago, as adults, we forgive what was done as children and move on." Gregory tried to appease for once, he knew Christophe's death had been a serious, traumatic event. For both of them.

"Fuck off, Gregory." Christophe turned his seething glare onto Gregory, infuriated that he'd bring someone from that God forsaken town here, after everything they'd done to the both of them. He didn't care about the warning look on Gregory's face, Christophe would not stand for this, he'd done so many things for Gregory, but not this, Not ever. "Fuck all, I'm out. Don't even fuckin' think about crawling to me cryin' because some salope broke your pathetic heart again." Christophe waved off, dismissing the both of them and turning on his heel before either one of them could retort.

He needed a cigarette, needed to calm his nerves and stay away from anyone that even seemed familiar in this country. Eventually, he'd return to Gregory, he always did, but he needed space. He walked. And walked. With no direction in mind, just needed to move, to get as much distance as he could from Gregory. The betrayal was still raw, as if it all happened yesterday. Gregory might be able to forgive and forget, but the scars on Christophe's body would never allow him to forget. He could remember the way Gregory had looked at him that day, a sign of weakness, one Christophe had never seen again in their years together. Whatever humanity Gregory had left had been destroyed that day, all because of the people from South Park.

Christophe enter a convenience store, blindly searching for the nearest place to buy a pack of cigarettes. Of course, he used Gregory's card, the asshole owed him a pack for his troubles anyways. Christophe was all too eager to get outside so he could at least calm his addiction down. Tossing the plastic wrap in a nearby bin, he tore into the pack for a fresh cigarette, using the cheap lighter he'd bought, he lit the tip. The tip flared as Christophe sucked at the cigarette, trying to get that fix to calm his nerves.

"Hankerin' for a smoke that badly, huh?" A voice interrupted his moment of bliss, lowering his brows and glaring a warning at the man beside him. Tall, messy blond hair, looked more like a homeless person than anything. However, Christophe didn't look much better most days, so he wasn't one to judge. "Mind if I bum one off ya?"

Annoyed, he studying the other male, appeared to be his age, blue eyed with a cocky grin. Something was off about him though, so Christophe humored him for the time being. He tapped the bottom of the pack, sending a cigarette up through the slot in the top before offering it to the homeless man. The blond took it with a little laugh, placing the cigarette between his lips, leaning forward to allow Christophe to light it for him.

"Thanks bunches, Chris."

"If you know my name then you know that you should probably get the hell away from me."

"C'mon, we're practically close buddies. What's a lil' death between friends, right?"

Christophe raised a brow and pulled heavily on his cigarette as he reassessed the man beside him, not a lot of people knew about his death. Only the three boys did and he was certain this was not one of those boys. "Since you know my name, its only fair if you give me yours."

"We both know nothing in this hell hole is fair. Buuut..." The blond seemed to grin, too optimistic, perhaps a little crazy. Or maybe that's what he wanted people to think, he'd seen those types before. People won't look closely into someone if they were someone they didn't want to be around. Overly optimistic people, homeless, acting a little odd, all signs that the average person would avoid. "I guess I owe it to ya', since we didn't get to properly meet last time. You can call me Kenny and I'm here to help you on your little mission."

So it appeared Kenny was a well informed man and that alone was enough to warrant Christophe's caution. People who had too much information were dangerous and nobody in the world helped others from the kindness of their hearts. They were always trying to gain something for themselves, Christophe was no exception either.

"What's in it for you?"

"Well, I've always fancied myself as a kind of super hero. One for justice and all. But I take it you won't be satisfied with that answer, huh?" Christophe gave a slight shake of his head, only idiots thought themselves as superheroes. "I'm doing it to save a couple people I love. You know how people do anything for that, yeah? Pluuus." Kenny went on, leaning a little closer to Christophe, he could smell old clothes but underneath there was a hint of expensive perfume. Likely to be missed by the untrained, but Christophe had his senses on high alert always. It was part of his job to collect information, who knew when it might be vital to the mission.

"I can get you all the information you need."

"Why do you need me then?" Christophe flicked a bit of ash of the tip of his cigarette, it all seemed too convent for his liking.

"This job requires more than one person to complete. Its far too big for me to handle on my own. And, as you well know, I can't really rely on my dumbass childhood friends to help me. They don't have the necessary requirements to see this job through."

Christophe considered it, Kenny was right, it wasn't often one came across someone who had the abilities like Christophe did. However, if Kenny knew about him, about the mission, he'd also know about Gregory. So why not approach the Brit instead? Gregory was the planner, Christophe was simply the worker.

"You know I only take orders from Gregory. If you want me to do something, go talk to that asshole."

"Nah, I don't like talkin' to the Man in charge, I prefer one on one with the little guys. More comfortable for me that way." Kenny dug around in his worn out second hand pockets, pulling out a crumbled up bit of paper. "Here, this is my phone number. If you need anything give me a ring, maybe I'll let you buy me a drink sometime too." Kenny gave him a wink before snuffing out his cigarette on the top of a trash can before disposing it into the cigarette disposal.

"Like hell." Christophe grumbled a reply, looking down at the paper pressed into his hand. Well, it was a start and he'd tell Gregory about the encounter later. Right now he was still being pissed at the man and going back would only result in getting punished for the way he'd acted. He wasn't really looking forward to that right now, so he might as well investigate Denver a little before heading to the hotel. He watched as Kenny waved at him before crossing the street, Christophe didn't bother to return it. He'd never been the friendly sort.