Title: Secret

Author: Rib

Summary: Has this city made us crazy? We must get out.

Rating: T

Pairings: KennyKyle

Disclaimer: Nope.

Notes: Written to Maroon 5. Songs About Jane.

I walk through the dim hallway like a ghost, keeping close to the wall as I saunter to my brother's room. I open it quietly and steal inside. He's asleep, like most people should be at this time in the morning. I creep up next to the bed and kiss him gently on the forehead. He stirs and squints up at me through sleepy eyes.

"Kyle? Wha—"

"Bye, Ike," I say, hugging his head tenderly, "I have to go."

He yawns and furrows his brow. "Okay, Kyle. Bye."

I pause and bit my lip. I take a breath. "I'm not coming back."

He turns abruptly, and I let go. "What? Where are you-?"

I hold my index finger up to my lips and shake my head. "I have to go, Ike." I reach over and muss up his hair, "Tell Mom and Dad, okay? I love you guys, but I can't stay here."

"Where are you going?"

I look away briefly. "Out. Out of South Park."

He stares at me, analyzing me the way he does. "Kyle…" he leans over to hug me. "Stay safe."

He doesn't say "stay here" or "don't go." He's always been a smart kid. He saw how I looked and the way I was looking at him. I hug back, tighter. "I love you, okay? And it isn't any of your faults."

He nods into my shoulder and I feel a damp spot on my sweater. "We love you too."

I let go and my heart sinks when I catch sight of his expression. I sprint out silently before I change my mind. I glance into the mirror in my room before I head out.

There was blood and soil all over me. I looked up at Kenny, eyes wide, and expected him to tell me what I just did; he stared back blankly, just as filthy as I was. I breathed hard, sweat forming on my forehead as Kenny approached me slowly. The warmth of his hand reached my cheek, and with a gasp, tears swelled up in my eyes. I grabbed his arms and began to hiccup, head down.

"We killed him," I sobbed at the ground and my mud-encrusted shoes, "we killed him, Kenny."

I looked up, realizing daylight was hitting the trees and Kenny and me and the hideous pile of soil a few away.

It's about that time of day when Kenny drives up in front of my house, where I wait with a duffel bag. I shuffle inside, avoiding Kenny's eyes and thank him through noisy breaths. I accept the cigarette he holds out to me shakily, biting into my cheek to keep from sobbing. He puts the old truck into gear and hit the road.

"You okay?" He says this gently, like he doesn't want to scare me away. It makes my heart pound even more.

I nod a bit too much and look up at him, clutching my bag to my chest. I want to say we shouldn't have done what we did. I want to tell him that no, I was not okay and that I had just murdered my Super Best Friend's secret lover. I want to scream that he was right there, and that he helped. So I do.

Kenny listens to me panic, turns occasionally, but doesn't reply. I then realized I wouldn't have known if he actually felt the same. I didn't know if he regretted killing his cheating bastard of a boyfriend. I didn't know if he felt like he was rotting from the inside out. I knew everything about Stan. He was my Super Best Friend. I didn't know Kenny, though, who I claimed to be my best friend. I didn't know him at all. And I didn't ask.

I was quiet for a long time.

Just like the drive back to my house that morning. I brought in Kenny with me. We took a shower together and he held me as I cried through the steam. He helped me scrub off the dirt on my skin and I helped him. We sat together in my bed, staring down at our hands.

"We have to leave," Kenny said.

I nodded.

"They'll find out we did it and they'll hunt us down."

I nodded.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow. We'll have time to…say good bye."

I paused. I nodded.

He reached over and held my cheek, just like he did deep in the forest. That time, though, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I kissed back and pulled at his shirt. We were heated and the remorse inside ourselves escaped in moans and whimpers and choked gasps.

Kenny curses loudly as he swerves into the side of the highway. I don't know where we are; I've been watching trees pass for enough time for the sun to rise fully. I realize that the car is fucking hot and jump out, as Kenny did. We decide to sit in the back until it cools down.

"It's a long way away," Kenny says, lighting another fag.

I don't know where we're going, either. But wherever he thinks he needs to go, I'll go. Kenny's been places and done things. I trust him. Maybe I'll even calm down at some point. Maybe where we're going can fix me.

"Did you tell anyone?" He blows smoke my way.

I shake my head, and he nods back. He knows I wouldn't tell. "But I said goodbye to Ike."

"Stan?"

Something flickers in my eyesight and I gulp. "No."

Kenny nods again, taking a long drag. "I'm sorry."

"It was my fault."

Kenny stares long at me and I falter at his look.

I loved Stan. I was in love with Stan. He was gay, I was gay, and we were Super Best Friends. You'd think that things would play out like you want them to. Stan liked Craig. Kenny was with Craig. Craig slept with Stan. I was sad. Kenny was angry. We killed Craig. But that's our secret.

Kenny is guilty. He's driving twenty over the speed limit, like he can't help it. I sigh as he nearly shaves against a van.

"Kenny."

He stares down at the road and I put a hand on his arm.

"We should stop by somewhere." The light is fading and we haven't eaten since we left town. He takes the next exit, where there happens to be a motel. I get us a room and lead him up to it.

He takes a shower and I try to distract myself with some stupid show on TV, lights off. He emerges minutes later, with only a towel around his bony waist. The mattress barely dips as he takes a seat next to me. His arms are around me, skin warm but water cold. He kisses my ear. He kisses my neck. I turn and he kisses my mouth, mounting me smoothly. His towel is gone as he tugs off my shirt. He pulls off my pants and boxers. I don't know him, but I need the warmth. I don't know him at all, but I need him beside me. He nibbles at my collarbone and kisses the inside of my thighs. I stop him. I feel beads of sweat sliding down my temples and mixing with tears I hadn't noticed had spilled.

"I'm not there yet."

He doesn't know me either. He looks up at me sadly, shaking his head. He rolls over and lies next to me. He turns the TV off, kisses me one more time and pulls the blanket up over our heads. His arms snake around my waist and I curl up against him.

It's been two days since we did something bad; something secret that only we know. I don't know who you are, Kenny. I don't know what you're thinking or doing or going to do. But I want you so bad. I want to tell you everything you already know. I want to make you happy. We're sharing something that is shaping the rest of our lives. I want to keep you around. If you're gone, I'll have this thing that I have to keep to myself. I'd go crazy if I had to keep it myself. I know I don't know you, but I want you so bad.

Everyone has a secret, but can they keep it? No, they can't.