I'm sorry it's so short, just when I feel it's done - it's done. Thank you again for all the great comments!
***
"That'll be eight dollars and fifty scents," The cashier said.
Kyle nodded and reached into his pocket. Nothing. He blushed, "sorry."
Must have been wrong pocket. He felt a tapping - a rather sharp one - on his shoulder.
"Looking for this?" Cartman asked, sneering. He was holding Kyle's wallet in his hand. Kyle snatched it back.
"Thanks," He muttered.
"Yeah, Kahl. I knew loosing your wallet must have been really hard on you, being a Jew and all."
"Fuck you Cartman."
"No really Kahl, my deepest sympathies." Snort.
Paying for his food, Kyle put it in his back and walked out of the store with Cartman. Once on the street, Cartman was poking Kyle's hand.
"Meeeeeeh," He made a noise.
"What?" Kyle sighed. Cartman just repeated poking.
"What do you want?"
"Hand Jew," Cartman said, annoyed.
"Oh…," Surprised, Kyle took Cartman's sweaty hand. It felt so warm, he felt like his own hand was being drowned. It was so strange how Cartman could feel so part of himself, stupid fatass. Their heart beats felt like their vital organ was trying to escape. Each touch…so overwhelming. So crushing, so completing.
It was all about him, in every thought and breath and racing heartbeat. They had exploded, the anger and the hate and the need, the obsession was pouring out.
When you can't live without someone you have no choice but to care.
Kids walked by, and although having seen the sight before, still stared. Kyle and Cartman, how on Earth? It was like an eclipse had passed, as if God had blinked and in his absence heaven and hell had come together.
"You're always warm," Kyle commented. Cartman smiled softly and squeezed his hand. Kyle's bony fingers dug into the bigger boys soft skin.
"You're just really scrawny."
"No I'm not!"
Cartman rolled his eyes, and stopped walking. Coming to an abrupt halt, Kyle glared at him. As Cartman came closer to him, both were so aware that they were breathing each others oxygen. The air was so thick.
Cartman put his hands at Kyle's collar bones, and edged in to his shoulders that lay underneath the orange jacket. Kyle released a heavy breath, and both of them felt their toes twitch.
"You're fucking bony, Jew. I just want to get a hundred of you and put them in a pile," Cartman deduced, and then extracted his hands and wiped the sweat on his thighs.
"Oh seriously, fuck you," Kyle sighed, and walked off. Cartman followed along because he couldn't be without.
Once again taking each others hands, they clasped on until their knuckles went white and their muscles ached and each others fingernail prints were etched in soft flesh. They needed the feel each other - and themselves - to the very bone.
