Warning: Those of you who have me on their alert and clicked this thinking it was for the fandom/pairing which I normally write for, it is not, and if you don't like it don't read it- and don't think I'm crazy for liking slash. Had to get that out of the way, sorry.

Hi! I'm new to the SP slash fandom and whatnot. I've gotten into it in the past two months and soaked it all up like a sponge. I love it:)

So this is my first completed K2 story. I think it's a little crappy and forced but I honestly tried. It also has the worst summary I've come up with- I couldn't think of anything... I was thinking this could be part of a series of drabbles since I have a bunch of short ideas... but do drabbles have to be really short? Does anyone even like drabbles? Any suggestions? I don't know.

So please enjoy and let me know what you think by reviewing. :D


Hanging in Obscurity

It was eerie to say the least. He'd never been in a place like this, one that only reeked of and seen death. The sterile and chemical-like smell was foreign to him, made him almost want to hold his breath. Yet even so, his mind was still much too preoccupied, too distant to take all of his surroundings in as a tall man in a white lab coat stepped up to the covered metal table.

The man glanced at the other occupants of the room before nodding solemnly and pulling back the sheet.

Sandy blond locks, messy and soaked with blood, were exposed. There was hardly a single clean strand, wasn't one that was just perfectly golden. Just matted, bloodied, dirty…

Blood. So much blood. The caked on scarlet was so abundant it brought on the appearance of charred wood instead of smooth skin. The seemingly peaceful face hidden beneath the once bright hair was painted and splotched with the crimson fluid.

He knew better than to believe they died in such a state. He knew that their face wasn't one of peace when it had happened. It had surely been one of pain.

"Yes," a woman croaked hesitantly. "Yes, that's him, that's Kenny…" Her voice died away, defeated.

A man with hair darker than the one on the table put his hand comfortingly on the woman's shoulder. His face held indifference yet he sounded mournful. "How… did it happen?"

"Semi," the coated man said flatly with forced sympathy. He looked at the boy to his left, the only one left who had yet to speak. "Correct?"

"Yes," he answered numbly, giving a curt nod. His green eyes shifted back to the bloodied form. "By every wheel…"

The mortician cleared his throat, his hand reaching up to push his glasses up his nose as he looked down at his clipboard. "We believe he died on impact… and even if he would've survived he wouldn't have made it long-"

"Why do things like this happen?" He broke in, unable to look away from the once smiling lips. Fresh blood made them shine in the gloomy florescent lighting.

"Some things we just can't control, son. They… happen for a reason. Perhaps it was his time," the mortician tried to answer him in the usual cliché fashion, but with little conviction. He watched the young redhead only stare downwards in silence, and he turned toward the couple with an understanding gaze. "If you two will follow me, we can complete the paperwork."

The woman's eyes flashed slightly before looking to her husband as if to receive an answer. A look was exchanged with her, one that seemed to transmit a message. His brows crinkled before he gave a sharp nod and she gave a tired sigh before he pressed his hand to her back. They followed the tall man out of the chilly room in a rehearsed-like manner, leaving the teen alone.

His green gaze fell slowly back to the lifeless face he knew so well. He didn't like this. He didn't like being in this strange smelling morgue or having to attend to state what he'd witnessed. From what he recalled of past occurrences, he'd never had to stare head-on at the disheartening sight of so much blood, of such injuries that could only be brought with excruciating pain for so long. If he had the unfortunate experience to, it wasn't one of his friends, and in any case he would leave the scene. This time he couldn't walk away, wasn't distracted with any other dire affair. He had to stare at it and wonder…

Pain, how much pain had it been? What had Kenny felt as it happened?

Before he knew it he reached his hand out. His slender fingers touched a soiled cheek, fingertips caressing as he ran them over the clammy flesh. Ghosting over the tattered material of an orange parka, he watched helplessly as his hand ventured down to pull back the sheet more. The moment he did he soon became appalled at such a sight of blood and sinew. In a dreary trance, his jade gaze traveled over the motionless body till it landed upon a still-closed fist.

Right then it struck him, his eyes widening slightly. Before the accident Kenny had wanted to give him something…

"Kyle, don't read this till you get home," he had said to him. Kenny had stopped him right on the side of the road, which wasn't a very safe place to stand and have idle conversation. His blue eyes were serious though, they were darkened and staring down into his own, so perhaps this was more than a normal after-school chat.

Kyle glanced down at the folded paper in the boy's closed hand with a bit of apprehension. "What is it? What's it for?"

"It's important," Kenny said simply, his voice not holding the normal chipper tone it did. He then contradicted this by giving a meek smile, one that did not reach his eyes however. "After you read it, if you feel the same… meet me by Stark's Pond, but if you don't, tear it up and pretend it never happened."

There was a tense air about the blond that Kyle found worrying, adding on to his confusion. "Is… there something wrong?"

"No…" Kenny trailed off as he looked down at the paper in his hand thoughtfully. At that moment Kyle recalled seeing an almost sorrowful look that had come over Kenny's features. Kenny took a few steps back and turned away slightly, seeming to be having second thoughts. Sighing, he pivoted back towards him with the article clenched securely in his hand, ready to be passed on.

"Kyle! Kenny!" They both turned their heads to see Stan waving at them some ways down the road. When Kenny had stopped them Stan and Cartman were unaware and had kept on walking. "Come on, dudes!"

Just then there was a blaring horn. It had surprised them both into staggering back some, but unfortunately that meant Kenny had unconsciously gone further into the road. Kyle had then watched in frozen shock as a huge semi ran down his friend.

Those sounds echoed in his head. Those looks Kenny had given him sat right at the forefront of his mind. There was still that note to read and it could still be where it had yet to leave.

Opening the stiff fingers, he revealed that very note to still be in Kenny's hand. He took it into both his hands, feeling that it was even still warm from having been held so tightly merely an hour ago. A bout of anticipation came over him, making his hands shaky as he started to unfold the wrinkled piece of paper. The slightly slanted handwriting of Kenny's came into sight, scrawled down half the sheet. He read each word carefully and with each one he was pulled further and further into a state of what could only be called astonishment.

Looking from the letter to the inert boy he felt his heart sink.

Kenny had felt that way about him?

He clenched his eyes and shook his head before looking back to what was written. It was definitely Kenny's handwriting. There was no doubt about it. His eyes burned at the thought that one of his dearest friends had pined for him for so long.

Why though? Kyle hadn't noticed him acting any different. There had been no strange behavior or anything that showed even the slightest clue that that was the case, but Kenny had poured his heart out in this letter. What he wrote broke Kyle's heart over and over yet made it swell painfully at the same time.

It wasn't that he doubted the authenticity of the letter or even Kenny's ability to love. There was one earth-shattering reason he didn't want to believe this was all true.

Because if it was, then his feelings were actually reciprocated…

All this time, how could he of not known it was mutual?

He stared at Kenny's unmoving face, taking a deep breath. Now he understood what those strange looks were, that that tense air had in fact meant that Kenny was nervous. Kenny had been worried about Kyle's reaction.

Now it didn't really matter. It was too late, whether they truly had felt that way for another was insignificant because Kenny was gone…

He was gone…

Right?

Kyle felt something akin to a shiver work up his spine. His skin crawled. That eerie feeling seemed to come back, perhaps tenfold this time. No, this was different. It was a peculiar atmosphere that was creeping up on him, but he couldn't really name it. All he knew was that it was familiar, as if he'd experienced it a hundred times before, though it was so hazy it barely registered as a thought, more as a memory.

The letter crinkled as his hands squeezed the ends. As the essence of déjà vu faded Kyle frowned, sorrow replacing his initial shock. Not just for their unrequited love or just his friend's death, but because somehow he knew that this newly attained knowledge is fleeting.

He felt it in his gut, a heavy weight that pulled his mind away from the all these crucial, dreadful facts. That Kenny was dead, that he had longed for him just as he had for Kenny. This just didn't feel real. This was like a reoccurring dream, and it saddened him though he wasn't sure why. It was the reason he'd asked that man how these things happened, not because he was some ignorant child, but because he really didn't understand the repetition of it all.

Like with a lot of things though, he didn't want to linger. He didn't want to keep seeing the letter and remember what could've been. Being so, he folded the paper back up, sure that his memories would be enough to reflect upon.

With one lingering glance at the metal table he turned to somberly leave.

The letter was left in Kenny's hand, to be forgotten.


It was a usual Saturday night in their mountain town. Not too cold, but not very warm. The four of them had planned to have a movie night and a sleepover, though such things sounded rather childish for their age but then again that was probably irrelevant. They've been together too long to really care about anything they do or what others think anyhow, never have. How long have they all been friends? It must be… at least all their life…

He was thinking too much again. All that was unimportant right now, what he should be doing is concentrating on walking… Suddenly, he bumped into a wall of some sort, a very squishy wall.

"Kenneh, watch where you're going," an annoying voice scolded him.

Kenny blinked, only now realizing they were at Stan's door. He looked at a glowering Cartman who must have been what he'd bumped into and watched him knock on the door. They had walked here together, that's right…

When the door was opened they moved into the coziness that was Stan's home. Well, perhaps cozy was a bit of an overstatement, but in comparison to Kenny's house it was like heaven. You can't get much plush and fluffy stuff when you're poor. There isn't much you can get at all.

He fell back into those thoughts for a few short-lived moments until his name was called.

"Huh?"

"We asked which movie you want to watch, dude," Stan said blandly with a raised brow. He stood in front of the flashing T.V. screen holding up two different movies in his hands.

He stared blankly for a second, still adjusting to being inside because he really had been totally spacing out. Cartman's large frame stepped aside so that all of them could look at him while he answered, but it was then that he really froze up. For the fourth occupant of the room was the reason for his absentmindedness.

Kyle cocked his head to the right a bit, looking to be in a cheerful mood. "They're both action movies," he added patiently.

"Uh," he murmured before swallowing. His thoughts won't get the best of him, they can't. He was being stupid. If they thought something was wrong with him then there would be concern, and that was exactly what he was trying to avoid. Quickly, he controlled his increased heart rate and gathered himself. Putting his hand near his mouth to give the illusion that he was more aware than he really was, he made a thoughtful sound. "The one on the right," Kenny finally answered smoothly, the others none the wiser of his internal trouble of course with their inattentiveness.

"Ugh," Cartman groaned and sat heavily on the far right end of the large couch. "It's gonna be shitty."

"This one actually has a real plot instead of pointless shooting and killing," Kyle claimed, giving him a distasteful look as he sat at the opposite end.

"But it's a typical plot. It's going to be the same shit just in more words," Cartman stated with his smug drawl, gesturing his hand out.

"Sometimes cliché stories are better," Stan inputted. Having put the movie in he went to sit on the floor in front of Kyle, leaning his back against the couch. "People like the having twists on the same stories."

"In other words, same boring shit," Cartman snorted stubbornly. He opened a soda to surely guzzle down.

Kenny only half-listened as his friends went on with their usual bantering, to busy gauging any possible askew glances or anything else that would hint to any kind of unspoken issue. They were acting like normal for as far as he could see. Even having their dispute, Kyle still seemed in a good mood despite Cartman's antagonizing. It was a good thing, but it still brought a deep and unfortunately well-known sadness to his heart.

Discreetly, as to not bring attention to his most likely obvious tenseness, he hesitantly sat between the irritated redhead and the portly brunet just as Stan had taken his seat. His uncertainty was neither really clearly shown save for his rigid shoulders and it was neither noticed.

"If you don't like it then don't watch it fatass, majority rules," Kyle snickered, dismissing the subject. Cartman choose to respond by merely scoffing and digging into the bowl of popcorn that had been set out.

Privately, Kenny thought that it was just a little strange to actually have silence as the movie started up. When they were younger Cartman wouldn't have let that last comment slide so easily. He would've made sure to try and have the last possible word, or insult as it is, at least until told otherwise or if the movie began. Of course, it could just be that Kenny was looking into things too much again, but it did indeed prove that they had been together a long time. They had certainly grown a lot, and clearly even more lately.

There were certainly many things that have grown.

Ironically, as it turned out, the movie did end up being on the rather boring side. Just about halfway through the other three boys were all fast asleep. Stan was lying on the floor with a pillow. Cartman, who had been first to nod off, was slouched with his head on his forearm against his armrest. Lastly, Kyle was curled up on his end of the couch, peacefully dozing away while clutching a pillow to his head.

Kenny had managed to stay up. The movie wasn't all that bad if you paid close enough attention, it had pulled his curiosity enough to keep his interest. Yet, though he knew what was happening in the film, his eyes weren't pinned on the television screen. His gleaming blue irises were focused on the sleeping little Jew next to him.

Since realizing Kyle had fallen asleep he'd kept glancing over at the petite redhead. Every time he would see that soft expression on that pale face he'd feel his chest constrict. Again he'd be reminded of the reasons he'd been so nervous upon coming to this get-together and being in Kyle's presence.

When the movie had still been just beginning, he had taken a chance by humoring what he already knew to be a fact by asking just the opposite of it, well, in a sense. It was worth a try. He could still hope and wish that someday things may be different, so today wasn't any exception.

"Kyle," he had started. His voice was quiet enough for the other to hear and sturdy, although his stomach felt all in a tangle, especially when those green eyes focused on him. "You're not upset about yesterday… are you?"

It had been a rather direct question, a bit strange of him to ask out of nowhere as well, but vague enough to get the answer he knew was coming without having to elaborate much further.

"Yesterday?" Kyle had inquired confusedly, pulling his vision back to what was occurring on the T.V. a couple times. "What about it? Not much happened yesterday."

"Nothing bothered you?" Kenny asked, casually at that. He remembered the boy had been distracted by trying to concentrate on the T.V. at that moment as well.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kyle quirked a brow at him, seeming just slightly annoyed by the sudden questions during such a time. "I'm fine."

It was just as he'd expected. What he hadn't anticipated, though, was the utter drowning feeling he got after confirming his hopes were still fruitless. It was something worse than just sinking, like he was floating in a fog, distant from reality. He couldn't take hold of anything he wanted. He just felt helpless.

No one really knew the truth.

Yet he had tried telling them.

He had tried to unleash these consuming feelings.

Yet Kyle still didn't know.

Kenny stared at Kyle's still serene face, watching his somewhat puckered pink lips twitch in his slumber. He took a deep, sharp breath.

Perhaps it was best everything was left unknown. After all, it would probably cause even more problems if everything was put out there. Who was to say that Kyle, or any of them, would take it mild mannerly let alone even listen to him anyhow?

Much like his hopes it was pointless to try. Why he even had in the first place was beyond him. Why had he bothered getting worried that any of what had happened yesterday had instilled in any of them? He'd dealt with this for years now, what made now any damn different?

He had let his damn feelings get the best of him. Shame, shame…

It was okay though.

Earlier, Kyle had pulled a blanket over them. At first he was only aiming to cover himself up, but when Kenny had glanced over they'd caught another's gaze. Kyle had stopped his movements, probably trying to analyze what Kenny was thinking. He'd then made a gentle smile and pulled the end of the blanket onto his legs as well.

Despite the room being fairly dark, Kenny knew he'd seen a blush on those cheeks. Kyle flushed quite often, having fair skin and all, but he had done it in a way that was different from when he was really happy or embarrassed or angry. A way that made his eyes light up a certain way. It was just something about the way he'd looked at him right then during that caring gesture that kept him lingering.

Therefore with the few plausible reasons for such a reaction there just might be something Kyle's harboring as well.

Kenny felt his body relax. Yes, it was okay. His friends were all still happy and alive with their obliviousness to his situation. They were here and as they should be, he wasn't going to ruin that. It's all he has, they're all he has. So long as it was this way it was still okay, he was in pain, but that wasn't anything new. It was okay. It was okay.

There was a chance.

His woes once again numbed away by self-assurance, a faint smile formed on his lips. He leaned down closer to the Jew who was still deep in slumber. Carefully he braced one forearm on the back of the couch and his opposite hand on very edge near Kyle's scrunched up legs.

Kenny's face hovered inches away from Kyle's face. He hesitated only a moment before dipping down and pressing his lips softly to one of those always rosy cheeks.

It was exactly as he'd expected. Kyle's skin was soft and warm, and for the brief moment he was in contact with him he inhaled the scent that was only Kyle. A pure aroma of like that of rain filled his nose and made his whole being surge.

Sitting back he looked longingly once again to his sleeping friend.

"One day I'll find a way to break this curse," he whispered softly. He sat there motionless in the warmth of the near proximity of their bodies, of the blanket that covered them, watching the boy sleep as he has been for over a year now.

His last words were uttered so quietly it was perhaps only his lovesick heart that had heard them.

"Then we can be together…"