“The next time you end up on the front page, I’m breaking up with you.”

Christophe glanced up from the paper. “Even if I win the county bake-off with grand-mère’s apple pie recipe?”

Kyle scowled and snatched the newspaper from his boyfriend. “Don’t be cute with me, asshole, you took on another job! God damnit, Christophe, you promised me you’d go legit! You’re working for the CI-fucking-A, they’ll kill you if they find out!” He threw the paper back onto the table, this time with the headline ‘Mole in the Pentagon’ clearly visible on the front page.

Christophe waved away the offending article. “You can’t prove that was me.”

“They’re leaking secrets to the French, who the hell else would it be?!”

“Well, I was quite flattered when they asked me, apparently I’m something of a folk hero back home…” the Mole twiddled his thumbs.

“Great, I’m dating an international susperstar in the world of espionage. A soon to be dead one, but hey, you win some, you lose some…”

“Now now, you’re upset.” The Frenchman beckoned the redhead towards him. “Come to Christophe, cher, I will make it all better…”

“You are NOT getting any right now!” Kyle threw up his hands. “I give up! I should’ve listened to mom and married a nice Jewish girl, she wouldn’t give me all this trouble!”

“Yes,” Kyle gasped when Christophe’s lips brushed against his ear as he whispered sultrily, “but would a nice Jewish girl do this?” He then proceeded to prove to Kyle that there was a reason they called it a ‘french’ kiss.

“You suck.”

“If you’d like, darling.”

“I’m definitely NOT forgiving you next time.”

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