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Observation	By : Athena2693 Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4415 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Splitting, piercing, with the strength to cause blood gushing from the ears. Kyle jumped up, heart in his throat, and stumbled into the wall. A long arm reached out, ceased the torture.
“Jumpy?” Christophe was already reaching for the cigarettes.
“It, it scared me.”
“I noticed. Come over here and let me check you out, you might be reacting to the sedative.”
“You’re not gonna give me a shot are you?” Kyle sounded uneasy.
“I just woke up, do you think I keep a syringe in my pillow?”
“Don’t hurt” Ky” Kyle crawled back into the bed, casually throwing a blanket over his lap to hide his nudity.
“Give me you hand,” Christophe took his wrist, held it for a second, then reached out to touch Kyle’s throat. He jumped back, a squeak escaping his lips. “Hold still.” He rested two fingers below Kyle’s jaw.
“Well?”
“Your pulse is a little fast, but I don’t feel any swelling or anything. I think you’re just a bit hyper from sleeping so much. You’re not going to school today.”
“I didn’t think you’d let me.”
“Can I trust you to shower without slitting your wrists with a razor?”
Christophe noticed Kyle casually move his arm so the inside faced down, hiding much of the scars since he didn’t actually cut along the rougher-skinned top of the arm.
“Yes.”
“Alright, the shower is right next to the bedroom. I’m going to go cook some breakfast. Any preference?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Kyle…”
“Just some toast, then?”
“I’m making bacon. You’re going to eat it.”
“It’s cold in here,” Kyle suddenly shivered, rubbing his arms.
“You’re cold because you have arms like sticks,” Christophe grabbed Kyle’s biceps in a hand, circling so middle finger touched thumb. Kyle blushed and pulled away.
“The window’s open.”
“Jump into the shower. Take a hot bath if you like. The ironing board is in the linen closet.”
“Oh,” Kyle touched his hair, feeling the economy-sized puffball on his head. Christophe chuckled, placing a kiss on Kyle’s head before he got out of bed, and headed to the kitchen in his boxers to cook breakfast.

One of his clients had told him he was crazy when he installed the camera in his bathroom, ae hae had agreed with them. Christophe supposed he had proved himself wrong.
He turned on the mini television over the breadbox, keeping his eyes on the screen as he busied himself cutting fresh bread and toasting it. He popped the bacon into the microwave to defrost.
Kyle entered the bathroom after Christophe was already in the kitchen, covering himself modestly with his hands. He had been lying naked in his bed for twenty-four hours, and now he was modest?
He had taken his advice and was filling the tub with steaming water. Christophe took the opportunity to start laying the bacon out on the pan when Kyle turned to the toilet. Spying was one thing, but totally denying the boy any privacy seemed a bit cruel. When he looked back, Kyle was climbing over the tub on long, coltish legs, submerging himself to his waist in hot water. He had found his pile of books lying on a table next to a radio and picked out a copy of an Anne Rice book. He set this on the corner, leaned back to dip his head in the water, then sat back against the tub, taking the book back. He didn’t start from the beginning, but flipped into the middle of the book, then turned a few pages after only glancing at the words. He had probably read the book before and was looking for a favorite part.
Christophe smiled to himself. He had gone for the book instead of the razors, that had to be a good sign. He certainly made himself comfortable fast enough.
Christophe turned away and finish cooking, serving up crisp bacon, draining the grease into the garbage. He put strawberry jam on the bread and set two pieces of this on each plate. He wasn’t really sure if Kyle liked tea, so he just let him a glass of ice water by his plate. The bacon was split so Christophe had a bit more, he didn’t want to press his luck with the boy. When this was all done, he turned on the radio and sat in one of the uncomfortable wooden kitchen stools. Kyle had set aside the book and finished washing, and had disappeared from the bathroom. Shit. Christophe quickly turned off the television, hearing footsteps in the living room.
“Mole?” The voice came from behind him. He pretended to be busy washing out soap in the drain.
“My name’s Christophe, Kyle.”
“Well, Christophe?”
“Hm?”
“I used your toothbrush, is that okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine.” He turned around to look at the boy. Kyle was wrapped in a towel, wearing it under his arms like a girl instead of around the waist. He looked adorable, scared with big eyes. His hair lay wet on his neck, droplets of water still running down his cheeks.
“Also, where are my clothes?”
“You threw up on them.”
“I threw up on them?”
“In the car. Before I got you back to the apartment you got sick from the heat and threw up all over them. I threw them away.”
“Then I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Just go get something out of my closet.
“Is that okay?”
“It’s fine. Go grab some clothes, breakfast is ready.”
“I’ll be right back.” Kyle disappeared back into the living room, the doors closing behind him. Christophe waited a moment, then opened the windows, letting in the autumn air. Outside already buzzed with cars and the twitter of morning birds. He took the vase from the windowsill that still held some fresh flowers from a nearby greenhouse and set it on the bar. When Kyle finally appeared, he was lost in a pile of cotton. Christophe hadn’t realized he was that much bigger than the boy. He was only about three inches taller than him, but his shoulders were much broader and his waist was wider. Kyle had grabbed a pair of jeans and they were kept on tightly by a belt, bagging at the bottom and folded at the feet. The shirt was an olive green t-shirt which, being skin tight on Christophe, he preferred not to wear. It was all right on Kyle, though too big around the neck and kept slipping off to expose a milky shoulder. He had tied it at the bottom since it was too long. Christophe caught a flash of skin when Kyle lifted his arm to cease the swinging of the door. He had found a bandana and had tied used it to tie back his hair for the moment. Christophe would search the house for a comb later, there had to be one somewhere…
Kyle took a seat beside him at the bar, keeping his eyes down.
“The school’s going to wonder where I am.”
“I told you, I’m not letting you go back.”
“I need an education.”
“No you don’t. You’re staying here.”
“How long?”
“Indefinitely.”
“My mom’s going to worry.”
“That’s why you’re calling her today and telling her you’ve left home.”
“What? You seriously don’t plan on keeping me here for the rest of my life, do you?” Kyle’s eyes expressed so much emotion, large and deep green as they were now. The shirt must’ve brought them out… All right, that had nothing to do with the situation at hand. Christophe shook his head.
“I’ll keep you as long as I have to.”
“You realize this is a bit…illegal?”
“It’s not breaking a law as long as they don’t know.”
“You’re just going to lock me in your apartment?”
“I won’t keep you locked here all the time. I have to go to the mall today, you may come if you wish.”
“Well…I need some clothes. But I don’t have any money.”
“I have two thousand in the bank, I’m sure I can afford some clothes for you. Problem being, will you be able to walk without those pants falling off?”
“I think I’ll be fine.”
“Eat. I wanna be outta here by ten.”

Kyle was brushing his hair when Christophe stepped out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. He had managed to find not merely a comb, but an actual brush, tucked away in the closet, leftover from some event or another. Christophe really could not comprehend why he had a brush in the closet. Kyle had put it in some bleach to clean it and was just starting to brush out his hair when Christophe finally emerged. He grabbed some clothes then walked back out into the living room. He had made little progress. He still resembled Sideshow Bob.
“Having trouble?”
“It’s because I didn’t have a scrunchie last night. I try to tie my hair back when I sleep or, well, obviously you see the results.”
“Yes,” Christophe looked around, realizing maybe he’d have to get more than one chair if Kyle was going to be staying long. He took a seat on the chair’s arm beside Kyle and gently took the brush from him.
“Mother always told me I should be a hairdresser when I was younger,” he said idly as he worked at one of the knots at the nape of Kyle’s neck.
“You wanted to be a hair dresser?”
“I don’t think so. But I liked doing mother’s hair. She had really soft hair, like yours.”
“Nice to know I’m a pet to you. Should I rub against your leg and ask for kitty treats.”
“If it pleases you. Did you find the ironing board yet?”
“There’s really no use straightening it if I can’t even separate the strands.”
“I’m working at it. Kyle, if there’s anything you want while we’re out today, don’t hesitate to ask, all right? I want you to be comfortable.”
“A gun?”
“No weapons.”
“Alright, alright, some paint then,” he tossed his hand up lazily. “You don’t even have a television.”
“Yes,” he said a bit stiffly, ignoring the five or so hidden throughout the house. They didn’t get any actual shows anyway, they were all hooked up to various cameras. Speaking of which, he should probably go clear Kyle’s house before the mother found them. “I don’t approve of television, it destroys minds.”
“So I’m just gonna go crazy alone in your apartment.”
“You can have as many books as you want, if you wish. And your painting of course, I know you love to paint. I’ll buy you a stereo if you want. Most people don’t know I have any money. I tell my clients to pay me by the time the rent’s due usually, but the truth is that’s just to give them a time limit.”
“So what? You’re gonna pamper me until I’m as fluffy and plump as a housecat?”
“How long are you gonna follow this rebellious streak of yours? I’ll let you start leaving after a few weeks, hopefully, if you’re over this thing you have. But I wanna keep you with me here so I can keep an eye on you.”
“What if I want to return home?”
“You’ve living with me now. Kyle, listen. Last night, the person who hired me to follow you came over. We got into an argument. He wanted me to kill you, and I refused. You’re alive right now because I agreed to watch you.”
“You, you saved my life?”
“In a way.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just, you took me from my home and, and…”
“I know. I’m sorry. I know it was your senior year, but you’re not going back. I’ll care for you, I have the money.”
“I had a future. I was a good student, I had straight A’s.”
“You wanted to be an artist, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t need school to be an artist, you just need lots of patience and time. You can devote yourself to it now.”
Kyle turned suddenly, almost snagging his hair in the brush. Sitting in the same chair as they were, they were extremely close.
“I can, can’t I?”
“Yes.”
“I always said I had to go to college to have a steady job, but truly, I don’t need one?”
“I’m responsible for taking you out of school so it’s my responsibility to watch after you.”
“Can I have my own studio?”
“You own…studio?”
“All artists need their own studio.”
“There’s not enough room in the apartment. There’s just the living room and the kitchen, the bathroom, and my monitoring room.”
“Your monitoring room?”
“Where I watch my clients through cameras.”
“Did you watch me?”
Christophe remained silently.
“Christophe? Did you watch me?”
“I was paid to watch you.”
“Where were the cameras?”
“The school.”
“That’s not that bad.”
“And your living room.”
“How’d you get into there,” Kyle took the brush from him and began brushing his hair out now that the snarls were out. Christophe stood and lit another cigarette.
“And your kitchen, all the hallways, your brother’s room, your parent’s room, your bedroom, several, actually, in your bedroom. There were many in the bathroom, including the shower.”
“You watched me shower?” Kyle’s voice was filled with outrage as he jumped up and walked to Christophe’s side.
“I, I had to.”
“What did you see?”
“What do you think I saw?”
“You’re a fucking pervert!” Kyle turned away and walked to the window, crossing his arms across his chest. He wasn’t quite sure how to react.
“You were beautiful.”
“What?”
“You were beautiful. I saw you, you know, in the shower. And you did it so beautifully.”
“I didn’t know anybody was watching. Why would I bother to act decent if I had?”
“I’m not kidding Kyle, I thought you were lovely like that. Your skin was so pure, and your face showed such emotion, even your raged breathing was lovely.”
“I can’t believe you’d watch that,” his voice didn’t sound quite so angry now, but was very soft.
“Did you want me to get out the ironing board for you?”
“Yes, please.”
Christophe glanced at Kyle, still looking out of the window at the leafy street below, then turned to get the board from the bedroom.
- 6
- 7
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Observation