Title: Thicker Than Water
Author: Daisy
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Trent's warehouse 'lair', abandoned warehouse on the edge of town
Pairing: Trent Boyett/Firkle
Characters: Trent Boyett, Firkle
Genre: Romance
Rating: K
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 469
Type of Work: Drabble, Part of the Fanfiction-Friends' Weekly Writing Prompts
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Mentions of Violence, Fluff, Unbeta'd
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Trent didn't have much by way of family. Neither did Firkle. But what they did have was each other.
AN: Another piece for the Fanfiction-Friends' Weekly Writing Prompts. xD I missed last week's and it was kind of upsetting, I had it half-written on paper and just never got around to finishing it. This week, I got hooked on a new Firkle ship and now I can't stop. This week's prompt is Family.
Thicker Than Water ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Trent Boyett never had the chance to live a normal life. He didn't have a family, not really, anymore. His parents had given up on him after his second incarceration, said he didn't have the right to 'mess up' his baby sister. He didn't even know her name. When he'd been released again, late this time due to the 'obvious' revenge he'd tried to enact, it was only because he'd aged out of Juvenile Hall, and he'd lucked out to not have to go straight to prison. It was discovered, all too late, that his parents had all but pulled up everything and left the state, and he was stuck being shipped off to them at eighteen. Things had been bad, ever since he'd left. Not that they'd ever been particularly good.
Looking down at the raven-haired kid in his arms, how his unguarded face looked impossibly young without that wrinkle of hatred over his nose, he felt a fond smile cross his features. Firkle was the kind of abrupt miracle that Trent had long since stopped believing in. It was amazing; this weird, effeminate, octopus-loving gothic waif had waltzed into his life by pure accident, and now he'd actually learned what he'd been missing.
Firkle had been his first hug, his first kiss, his first motive to smile, his first reason to fight for someone other than himself. He was like that rabbit god from Watership Down, the Prince Of A Thousand Enemies. And he was alone. His friends had ditched him in this awful, ass backwards, ratspit little mountain town, and left him vulnerable.
It burned him up, still, thinking that someone could abandon such a delicate creature. Sure, Firkle could handle himself to a point, but with a thousand enemies, he could only keep his head up for so long. He was falling apart.
And that was the moment when Trent had taken pity in someone other than himself. He had swooped in, made a few threats, brought up his last tour of South Park, and the kids hurting the youngest goth had backed off. Ever since that day, the pair had been damn near inseparable. Firkle liked having an attack dog to defend him, and Trent would do anything for some affection.
Learning about the little goth had brought around the thought that he was also devoid a family. Maybe, now, they had found that.
Ah, but these were thoughts for later. The sun was finally painting the walls of his little warehouse an obscene purple in preparation for its rising, and he didn't really want to be awake for it. Firkle would be glad to sleep in on top of him, either way. Today was already feeling lazy, from the easy going smile on his lips all the way to his bones.
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