I'm not sure exactly what brought this to mind, except the fact that Gregory is so obviously gay that there would be no way to make him any gayer even if he had been in the metro episode. The last bit about Christophe's manicure came from a comment someone made in their fic that "An entire team of manicurists couldn't get the dirt out from under his nails." I neither remember the name nor the author of that fic, just that I've been waiting for the next chapter avidly. I also have no way to track the fic down because at the time I wrote this I didn't have internet.

I would also like to point out that I use the word fag extensively, mainly because Christophe seems like the kind of person who would use it a lot. I use it a lot in real life, but not as an insult. Unless you're purposefully gay bashing I just don't see it as an insult…like when my friends joke around and call me a dyke and we all laugh and I'm laughing loudest of all because I think it's funny!

Christophe looked around the school as if the apocalypse had come. And maybe it had. There was nothing like coming to school on a Monday to find that all of your friends had suddenly turned into murse toting, manicure getting, lisp speaking girly men to signal the end of the world.

Don't get him wrong, he had nothing against either gay people or fashion. He was a fag himself, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy Gregory's…ehem…company. And as for fashion, he was French for that faggot's sake! How could he have anything against fashion?

But this was a bit ridiculous, this dressing up like the queer eye guys or worse. Was that mesh Stan was wearing? And Damien was definitely not in leather pants. There was no way.

It was even worse that various people around the school tried to hurl insults at him for looking too straight. They, of course, were shut up pretty quick after the first few were slammed into various surfaces and shown just how 'butch' the Frenchman was. Clyde had even started crying, though that was far from surprising.

He kept his head down and his gaze to the floor to avoid having his eyes melt out of their sockets from the sheer gayness of it all. The majority of them were faggots in the usual sense, but this was taking it a bit far! He opened his locker to grab his books and get to class as fast as possible.

He winced as he heard Gregory's voice behind him. "Christophe, love, how are you today?" Came the cheerful blonde's voice. He was almost afraid to look, lest the damage to his lover be too great.

"Christophe, why aren't you looking at me?" He asked, the hurt in his voice badly hidden. Little known fact: Mole's one weakness was that little British faggot behind him. He sighed and turned around, expecting the worst: glitter, mesh, lace, leather, worse maybe.

He was surprised to see him looking just the same as always: Orange button up with the sleeved rolled up to the elbows, blonde hair combed back, manicured hands in the pockets of perfectly pressed slacks. He was as immaculate as always, no surprise there.

"What? You are not buyeeng eento zees 'ole zeeng?" He asked, surprised. Then he remembered the insults thrown at him earlier in the day and growled. "No one 'as been eensulteeng you, 'ave zey?" He asked, his eyes on fire.

Gregory giggled and wrapped his arms around Christophe's neck, pecking him on the cheek. "Oh of course not, love! As far as anyone is concerned, they think I'm the one who's most into it! This whole metro-sexual thing is about taking care of yourself, being well dressed and well spoken. Aren't I all of those things already, darling?" He asked, leaning into the broad chest of his lover.

Christophe mulled over the information he had been presented with before nodding slowly. "Oui, you are ze gayest faggot I know." Gregory just sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Not exactly a compliment, but I'll take what I can get. Thank you, love." He said, smiling and kissing Christophe full on the lips.

Cartman passed by and was about to say something, his mouth was even hanging half open as the insult started. But it died on his lips as soon as he remembered how he was dressed and that gayness and metro-sexuality was the 'in' thing right now. He just scowled and waved his hand dismissively at the pair and waddled away, leaving them to their make out session.

All in all, Christophe counted the second metro-sexual faze a win, even if Gregory did force him to get a manicure to get all the dirt out from underneath his nails.

…Needless to say they had to strap him into the chair.

And they didn't succeed.

Hope you liked it! When you have as much time on your hands as I do, you think you'd be able to write better and more. But, sadly, such is not the case.

Funny note: While spell checking, the spell check suggested I change "Christophe, love, how are you?" to "Christophe, love, how is you?"

I don't know about you, but I lose all faith in spell check when it goes gangsta gangsta on me.