Foreign Kids Oneshots

Gregstophe

Everybody knew that the heads of the house were neat freaks, and perhaps, close to germaphobes.
They both liked to keep everything clean and orderly, making sure that the house was in perfect condition.

And that was a little bit of a hassle, especially living with how many people they did, and, especially Christophe. He was a grubby man, always covered in dirt, blood and various other substances dried into his clothing, which would most likely take more than a couple of weeks to properly clean out.

And after a long day of cleaning up, Gregory was laid down dramatically on the sofa, his legs sprawled across the lap of his best friend, Estella. It has always been a love-hate relationship with these two. The times where they showed that they actually cared for one another were very, very rare, but they did happen, believe it or not.

Estella shoved the taller blondes legs off of her, " Stay off of me, you pompous vulgar little piss-being curdling maggot " She hissed without missing a beat, shooting a sharp glare at him

Gregory scoffed and rolled his eyes, a smirk playing along the corners of his lips as he loudly slammed his heels onto the floor, clearly creating a mark and scratches when he did so.

" Of course. " 

" You're cleaning that. " Estella growled, crossing her arms as she stood. Gregory snickered quietly with that same knowing smirk as he watched her walk away, in a very clearly sour mood.

Gregory had no qualms in cleaning his own mess, only the mess of others. It bothered him that they wouldn't clean up after themselves-Aside from Pip and Estella-, But what bothered him the most was the rabbits. Pockets rabbits.

Now they wouldn't be such a disaster to have around most of the time, but times where Gregory and Estella had to be on their hands and knees scrubbing the floors after them was a little discomforting, and at times, Estella would just snap their necks and toss them out of the window. Everyone in the house was aware of what she did, but Gregory wasn't nearly as violent as she was. Instead, he'd simply open the cage and let them run free. Hopefully far, far away from here.

Broken out of his little trance, Gregory turned his attention back towards the door which had been slammed open, his smirk falling and expression shifting.

" Christophe. " He greeted lifting a hand, " Take your boots off. You know that we've spent hour cleaning the floor. "

His request was only met with a soft grunt, before the shorter of the two bent over and begrudgingly unclipped his shoes, placing them oddly by the door before he headed inside, slamming the door shut.

Cringing at the smell as Christophe plunged himself onto the sofa, Gregory groaned, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly took hold of the brunettes hand, intertwining their fingers.

It took a moment, but Gregory eventually grunted and leaned against the Frenchman, eyes looking off to the floor.

" You smell like a putrescent mass of walking vomit. " He'd note, side-eyeing him with a sour, yet benevolent glare.
His insults had always been something he had picked up off of Estella, seeing as he was never very creative, or at least, not to the point that he could make them up on the spot like she did.

" Get off of me then " Christophe would simply reply with a soft shrug, entangling his fingers in Gregory's. 

" No " 

Christophe didn't even bother pushing it, running his hand through the blonds hair, enjoying the gentle, soft feel to it.
Today had been a stressful day, but Gregory, no matter how much had happened, no matter what they had been through, always managed to make his day, one way or another.

Hours had passed, and the two of them laid there, asleep, arm in arm. Cuddling.
God forbid anyone else see him in such a position, but this time, there was an exception.

Soft giggles came from behind the creaking door, as the two brits entered the household, hand in hand.

" Quiet, Pip,, You'll wake them " Cooed the taller of the two of them, leading him into the house and shutting the door behind them with a gentle click.

" My apologies, Dearest Herbe,,,rt,, " The blond would giggle out, before his words would die out in his throat, attention diverting towards the blonde lady sat in an arm chair, the small amount of light revealing her.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, before her turning to meet face-to-face with the other brits in the room.
" Care to tell me where you've been all night, you ruptured anal cavities of sewer rats? " She hissed, shooting them a sharp glare.
" Go on, out with it. "

" We were,, out with Damien? " Pocket would excuse both him and Pip, before carefully dragging him across the room, only to see another light flicker on, revealing a certain ravenette sat in the chair, smug grin unmistakable, even through the darkness.
" Wanna try again? "

Oh shit.