This one is more of an insight into how I see Cartman, and I'm really not that fond of this story. Well, I hope you guys like it anyway. Still loving all the reviews!
***
Cartman didn't need to admit it, or even think it. Kyle made him double over, made him so delirious, confused, horny and insane. He felt like a roller coaster that was about to break down.
He felt his mind was slipping out of itself, that his heart was exploding. Fucking kike.
But that was Cartman's mind - a devastating egotistical vat of sub-conscious self-deprecation. Fear, hate, power drove him. Love was a foreigner. He was childish yet evil, a contradiction in himself. Funny, fat, cute, evil, sweaty Eric Cartman.
He was himself, only he didn't know and didn't give a shit exactly what that meant. He felt that he should have been born God.
But he was constantly reaching out. As a really young child - and the memories are fuzzy through thick clouds of trying to forgot - he would cry for hours on end whenever his mother walked away. Cried himself to sleep, to insanity. Cried himself to the fear of love itself, and replaced it all with that sadness. He had turned himself into hate.
He had become devastated enough to loose his mind, to slip in two. Nothing made sense, everything was a contradiction. His mother would baby him and love him and then walk away like she didn't even have a son. His friends would be there for him and them run away.
Fuck them, fuck the world. He's better than anyone on this mother fucking planet. He should have been born God.
Then there was Kyle, and all that hate he invested in that Christ-killer was such a rude awakening. He gave him attention, let him get to him. With Kyle, when he reached out he got somewhere. He could feel Kyle's soul and it beat inside him like a drum. He made him powerful, gave him something to be.
But at the same time when he would commit his hate acts, Kyle was there to stop him. Made him so angry, touched him. With Kyle, when he reached out Kyle reached back. He hated it, it didn't make any sense. Fucking kike.
It was Kyle's fault that Eric needed him so much. He had become the world, the mission statement. The bloodlust ran deep through him. His warped mind felt shocks of electricity every time it dared think of the red headed boy.
Dumb, fucking Jew.
---
Walking into the classroom, Kyle immediately roamed his eyes for Cartman.
"Jewboy!" He heard, and felt arms like tight snakes slither across his thighs. He could feel Cartman's need though every pore of the fat boys skin. It seeped from him. Kyle smelt it.
He wondered if Cartman could feel his need like this. Was it less noticeable with him?
"Fatass," He recuperated. He took Cartman's hand and held it so tight bones should have been broken. Reaching for him, always. Hating, loving.
He was his obsession, his desire and utmost passion. His guilty pleasure, his unexplained miracle. By all means he should be disgusted and repulsed. But Cartman was amazing, his mind so perfectly fitting with all that power. Of course someone so brilliant would be so insane, so hateful.
And yet he was his other half. He'd been born to find him, to match him. To stop him and keep him level. It was like they had grown up into each other, like the way neighbouring trees roots entangle.
Kenny watched them through his angel eyes. He had once talked to Gabriel about them.
"It's beyond," was all the angel of death said. If Kenny bothered to think about it, he would understand. But only giving them a fleeting glance, he returned to looking at his porn magazine from under the desk.
"Come to my house today," Cartman asked. If it was possible for his voice to sound pleading than that would have been how Kyle would have described it. But it sounded cocky at the same time. Husky, familiar. It was a hilarious voice if he stopped to think about it.
"Yeah alright fatass," Kyle said, automatically. No need for thought. So easy.
"Sweet," Cartman said, and removing his arms took a seat at his desk.
---
"No Eric!" The chemistry teacher sighed, completely exasperated. Third period. Six hours to go.
She turned the gas tap off, "NOBODY LIGHT ANY OF THE MATCHES!"
Cartman chuckled as everyone groaned. The experiment had to be cut short due to a gas leak and they moved to the other side of the room to continue revision work.
"Nice going, fatass." Kyle mumbled, next to him. Always next to him. Cartman began to toy with a match-
"Stop it!" Kyle exclaimed, and a couple of people turned to look at him.
"He was…playing…with a match," Kyle mumbled. Something had stirred inside him that wasn't just the human instinct of survival. He wanted to remove all flammable objects within a hundred feet of Eric Cartman.
He looked at Cartman. Something inside him screamed to protect him. Another screamed to cut his fucking dick off.
Cartman noticed, of course. He just looked at Kyle feverishly, then made a humph sound and turned away, discarding the matches. Kyle, always getting to him. Part of him.
Chipping into him like a woodpecker to a tree.
Stupid Jewish woodpecker. Then: are there Hebrew woodpeckers? He wanted one.
Then another thought: are magpies Jewish?
"Protecting my balls there eh, Kahl?" Cartman snickered.
"Shut up about your balls."
"My balls are so nice and juicy-" He had begun to sing when Kyle swatted him with a chemistry book.
"Fuck! That hurt!"
"Good."
---
Cartman's house now. Tension hotter than fire engulfed the room. As if the walls and floors and furniture knew what was about to happen. Reaching out…
They held each other so close, breathing into each other's airways. Needing.
Cartman kissed Kyle's forehead randomly. Kyle raised his eyebrows, but Cartman chose that moment to let go of him and walk across the room. He looked at Kyle. He looked lost. Good.
Kyle should need him too. They were two parts. Light and dark, heaven and hell, ice and fire.
"What are you doing over there?" Kyle asked.
"Looking at you."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"Because it's creepy!"
"Up yours, I'm going to look at you Kahl!" Cartman made a show of bulging out his eyes and staring at Kyle.
"You're retarded!"
"You're beautiful." Cartman said. Solemnly, truthfully. He bore his eyes into Kyle's skull as he said that. Stupid Jewboy probably thought he didn't mean it anyway. He meant it. By God, with every fibre of his entire existence and black soul he spit out enough love, enough hormones to believe that Kyle Broflovski was fucking gorgeous. Kyle looked slightly uncomfortable.
"What Jew, can't take a compliment?"
"I want to spend my life with you." Kyle choked out. When they cut down Cartman's tree, Kyle wanted to go down too. Cartman went back to the bed and kissed Kyle so forcefully their teeth should have broken. They clung onto each other.
Cartman smothered his head in Kyle's chest and began to cry. He cried like he did when his mother would walk away.
But now they were happy tears. Kyle wasn't going to leave. He had to believe that or he'd kill him.
Entangled fingers, hearts, and lives.
