Of Mercenaries & Love Affairs

Christophe was watching them both curiously, some how feeling as though there was a tension in the air. He could tell Eric was not as focus on the show and he tried to be, and Livius was all over him.
Clearing his throat, he decided to try and ease the mood.
"Zo, 'ow 'as Eetaly been?" He held onto Eric's hand tightly, not wanting the boy to be left out.

"It 'as been good." Livius nodded. "Like normal. Although nowhere is as fun when you are gone." Livius spoke simply with a soft smile.
Eric groaned internally although he caught himself almost doing so out loud. Livius was so cliche. He didn't see Christophe being with someone like that. Although he also didn't know why Christophe was with someone like him either. Christophe was complicated. He was unique and Eric supposed that was what had drawn him towards the man.

Christophe rolled his eyes at the Italian man, scoffing as he slipped his hand in Livius's pocket. He fished out the mans pack of cigarette, opening them and took one between his fingers. "Im zuree 'ou wont mizz eet." He lit the cancerous stick, inhaled deeply, and allowed the smoke to settle in his lungs before he finally exhaled through his nose. "I theenk Eeric would likee 'ou beeter than 'e likees mee. 'Ou act like onee of 'ees zhowz."

"Is that a bad thing?" Livius chuckled, shaking his head at the man as he smoked.
"Again with the cigarettes." Eric groaned softly, though he still smiled softly at the man.

"Non. Eet eez good." He wanted Eric and Livius to like each other, maybe even more if things went well. Christophe pushed Eric gently, blowing a ring of smoke in his face. "Again weeth zhee beetching." He mocked his lover, antagonizing as he was born to do.

"I'm going to throw your cigarettes out the window." Eric smirked, wrinkling his nose at the smoke as it was blown in his face.
Although Christophe wanted them to like each other, that did not seem likely any time soon, especially as Livius frowned deeply as Christophe was turned to Eric. He did not like the other getting attention instead of him.

"I'd likee to zee 'ou try, 'ou ztupeed Ameerican." He held onto Livius's pack of cigarette's tightly, his teeth clamping down on the filter of the one in his mouth. Christophe's lips were upturned in a smirk, he had always enjoyed pestering Eric. It was his favorite pass time.

"Oh, now you're insulting me, frog?" Eric smirked, using his own term of endearment for the French man although it was technically a derogatory term. "I may be American, but I can still take those damned cigarettes away from you."

Christophe gapped at him as if offended, his eye brows furrowed deeply. "I'll make 'ou eat theze zigarettez!" He pushed himself up, inhaling as much of the cigarette as he could before lunging at Eric. He caught the mans wrists, not too tightly but enough to hold him while their lips met. He acted as though he would blow the smoke into the boys mouth but he refrained. Smoking was a bad habbit, even he would admit that. It was best Eric never started. But still, he made his point.

Eric immediately attempted to resist, struggling as his wrists were held down. But when he realized the man was only teasing, he allowed himself to be kissed, pleased that he was getting attention instead of Livius, who was nearly glaring from his seat on the couch.
"Bitch." Eric murmured when they pulled apart.

"Butt fuckeer." Christophe settled back into his seat, throwing his legs up and into Eric's lap. He was filthy from a days mission, and found amusement in sharing his dirt with Eric. Smiling, he leaned his head back, now into Livius's lap.

"Oh god, you need a BATH." Eric groaned, wrinkling his nose to pretend the man's feet smelled terribly. Although they really did smell, he had been used to that for a while now.
Livius seemed calmer now, his fingers carding through Christophe's hair as he glanced at the TV, not understanding much.

"And 'ou need to ztop beetching." Christophe sat himself up more, looking down at himself. Even he had to admit he looked like hell. But still though, the thought of a bath was daunting. He pinched the bridge of his nose, moving his fingers as if to also work out his eye brows which had been furrowed in his minor distress.

"I'll stop bitching when you get a bath." Eric shook his head, a hand running over the man's calves as he spoke, caressing them gently. Even though Christophe was dirty, he still liked touching him.

"Eez zhat a promize?" Christophe groaned softly as the boys fingers moved over the tender muscle in his leg. "Becauze eef eet eez, i'll go myself."

"Probably not." Eric admitted. "I'll stop bitching when you stop giving me things to bitch about." He smirked softly as he glanced down at the man.

Christophe stood himself up, grimacing as his joints creaked. "Im allant à la douche." He glanced back at them, unsure if they would be alright alone. If not, he hoped at least one of them would follow him. Either way he was going to shower, and then he was going to be with his lovers.

Translate: "Im going to shower."

Eric frowned, trying to think of the little French he knew.
"'E said 'e was going to shower." Livius offered, glancing over to the other man.
"In that case, this is a once a year kind of thing. I better come with." He smirked, following after his lover. "I'm making sure you're doing it right." He noted.
Livius frowned after them, wondering if he should come as well.

"I don't need a baby sitteer!" Christophe stopped on his way to the bath, as though he had thought better of this. "Actually, I don't need a bath." Of course he did, blood and assorted dirt stained his clothes. Soot was thick on his skin, and mud was caked about his legs.

"Yes you do. Go on." He nudged the man towards the bathroom. "You've needed one for about a week now."

"Non." Christophe pushed his lover back, trying to get past him and back into the living room. "Maybee zome otheer time."

"Too late now, we're getting a shower. Come on." He grabbed the man by the waist, shoving him down the hall towards the bathroom.

Christophe belted out French obscenities and harsh threats, trying to hold onto the frame of the door so that he was not pushed into the bathroom. "Focking beetch! Leet me go!"

"Stop fighting me!" Eric muttered as he kneed the man in the back lightly. It was just hard enough to shove him in the bathroom door and get him to his knees. He shut the door behind them and helped Christophe to his feet. "Take your clothes off." He demanded.

"Non! Not at leeast untill 'ou takee mee to dinneer first."  The Frenchman sneered at him, lunging and shoving him out of the way of the door, his hands fumbling as he tried to wretch it open.  "Leeave me alone beetch!"