All Or Nothing

by shortstackedcheesecake

Nobody believed they would last, especially Kyle. Eric and Heidi are still dating in high school, Kyle is bitter although has managed to maintain his friendship with Eric. But things are not so blissful between Eric and Heidi, which may work to Kyle's advantage... if he can handle what an affair entails. Rated M.

A/N: So I've finally got around to writing a fic about Kyle being jealous of Eric and Heidi. And it's long. And in first person. Which kind of feels nostalgic, since I haven't written a oneshot of this length for a while, and I haven't written in first person for even longer. It's also non-linear. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this long overdue Jelly Kyle fic! I'd love to know your thoughts, and thank you for reading!

---

Kyle's POV

Nobody believed they would last, especially me.

They started dating when they were ten, relationships that start so young aren't meant to last, right? They're not serious. But who am I to talk, I had fallen completely for him by then. At least, that seemed to be the starting point for these agonising feelings that I would never relinquish, because whatever elation I can derive from them is worth all the hurt, the bitterness, the inexplicable injustice of it all.

I can still remember the first time I saw them hold hands. Her hand was small and delicate, and his was soft and pudgy and they were holding onto each other so tight, like they would never let each other ago. Eight years later and that feels truer than ever. I think of their joined hands and I remember the knot in my stomach, it winded me and was dragging my heart down like an anchor into the pits of, I suppose, despair. I guess my tongue was sufficiently tied too, words had clambered up my throat with no hope of release. God, it was humiliating as well as heart breaking and they were just standing there, smiling and waiting and so oblivious to anything and anyone. Like I said before, that still rings true today.

For example, its halftime at another basketball game. I'm absently sipping at some water, my stare cutting through the crowd to find them sat on the bleachers, deep in conversation as always. Jesus, what do they have left to talk about? What do they ever have to talk about except each other? But hey, why does it matter when she's so animated, her eyes sparkling as she talks and he's watching her, enthralled, and yep, his hand is resting just above her knee. It's a familiar scene. It sounds like I'm stalking them but I'm not, this enamoured image is on display every day at school. In the hallways, in the parking lot, at lunch… history and English class are my only respites, the only time I'm ever alone with him. Thanks to the alphabetical seating arrangement he sits right next to me and whenever I can catch the smallest drop of conversation with him I'm golden.

I'm the only guy out of our old group of elementary school friends he still talks to. If I can thank Heidi for one thing, is that she's distracted him enough from thoughts of resentment and revenge to be cool with at least one of us. I'm sure he would talk to the other guys too if they made the effort, if they could shake off their discomfort for one minute. Yeah, it's difficult, but I did it. Then again, I miss him so much that I would wade through lava if I could use my last dying breath in conversation with him. I guess that's another thing that has changed in these past eight years. I'm fully aware of what this is. I was aware of it years before I admitted it to myself, even. They say pride comes before a fall, but not this kind of fall. If anything, my pride at least attempted to soften the blow even if I was doomed to crash land into the realisation. Sometimes I wonder which was better, the naïve confusion where my feelings were like a puzzle I was trying to solve until my fingers bled, or the crushing epiphany I had when I finally stepped back from the cruel puzzle and saw the whole picture, the answer that was in front of me the entire time, and torments my every waking hour. Even when I shut my eyes I can't escape, the image is seared into my lids. Both have made my heart brittle.

I try not to dwell too much. I keep myself busy. I make sure my grades are on the up, I hang out with my friends, I play basketball and attend student council meetings and even if thoughts of him do creep in, at least I can project the assumption that I've got it all figured out, that the life I lead is perfect. And when I talk to him about what we've each been up to, I wonder if he's jealous, if he feels a stab of inadequacy and regret that all he has is her. I don't want him to feel this way, and if he ever did admit to it maybe the guilt would make me summon the balls to confess that they're all mild distractions to make me forget I don't have him in my life. Things will never be like they were when we were kids and I yearn for those times more than anyone can imagine or comprehend. Because yes those times were stressful, and crazy, and sometimes frightening but at least the four of us had each other. And even when he and I would fight and scream and try to destroy each other, at least we knew we'd be there if times got rough, at least we assumed we would always find a way back to friendship where we could play and laugh with each other. It stings to think that maybe we had it all wrong, when we jumped to conclusions and I ended up taking him for granted.

Of course our conversations never dig so deep, there's not enough time and too much to thaw out. I occasionally find myself inviting him to basketball games though, brightening every time he says yes. Even when I know he'll never come alone, that he'll always bring her. Tonight is no exception. After all, who else would he sit with? I look down at them from a place of envy, but they seem to be content in what they have, more content than I am at least. But I guess that's because what I want I can't have, eight years have gone by and I'm not even close, whereas they have everything their hearts desire. Each other.

Halftime was over and I returned to the court, resolving to just play the game like they're not even in the crowd. I doubt they'll be paying attention, anyway.

---

Ten years later I found myself sat in a grand hotel ballroom, at a table with strangers, and trying to eat the salmon meal I requested when I RSVP'd but now had no appetite for. I was the only one of our childhood friends and high school classmates who had been invited to Eric and Heidi's wedding. I had awkwardly showed the invitation to an indignant Stan and Kenny, who had declined the offer of being my plus one because Eric 'clearly didn't want them there'.

It was no surprise to me that I hadn't spotted any of Heidi's old friends. I suppose enough time had gone by that I couldn't even refer to them as that anymore. I had seen what I supposed were her college friends, workmates, relatives, coming up to Heidi and congratulating her. The only person I recognised was Eric's mom, sat at the long, raised table alongside the bride and groom. She had her hand on Eric's arm, absorbing every word she said to him tearfully, and would occasionally talk to Heidi and laugh at something she had said. I suppose she got her jokes, when Eric had confessed to me once that he rarely did.

I felt like an intruder, stranded on the fringes of the new lives Heidi and Eric had made for themselves, but everything was muffled and I was too proud to press my ear to the wall. Or maybe I was just a spectre of the past that wasn't as welcome as my invitation suggested? Either way, I didn't go to the ceremony. I could only bring myself to attend the reception, where I discovered I was to sit with Eric's old aunts and uncles who had travelled from Nebraska.

But as I prodded the half-eaten fillet of salmon with my fork, I contemplated silently slipping away and returning home. My mind was brimming with the images of a giddy, handsome Eric with his lovely, joyous bride on his arm. Maybe it was the rosy lights, the white balloons, the bursts of applause whenever the two as much as pecked each other on the cheek that made me believe he looked more content than ever. It was my complete surprise that I had received an invitation at all that made me accept it, disorientated and half-expecting a response informing me that there had been some kind of mistake. But I had been relieved when that wasn't the case; for admittedly my biggest reason for accepting the invitation and showing up in the first place was because I wanted to see him again, talk to him again. But he was too busy for conversation, too enamoured with the girl I suppose he had wanted to call his wife for so long. Besides, I was too chicken to go and congratulate him myself.

After a few rounds of drinks, everybody at my table had migrated to the dancefloor except me. I chose to stay, declining a few tipsy invitations to dance from Eric's aunts, and polishing off my fifth beer instead. I almost choked on it when Eric emerged from the inebriated, dancing crowd. His hands were in his pockets and a smile spread across his face, a charming, appropriate rope to tangle my nerves and excitement and delight until I couldn't tell the difference between the surging emotions anymore. As he approached my table I finally congratulated him and asked where Heidi was. He thanked me and said she was at a table with her friends, I didn't tell him how odd that seemed. But I was quick to respond when he asked if we could sit and talk for a while.

Huddled together so we could hear each other over the cheesy music, I learned that both Heidi and Eric went to the east coast for college – different institutions, but close enough that they could visit each other on weekends – and that Eric had returned home to go to law school. Heidi had secured a job with the FBI, mostly grunt work and long hours but she was impressing the right people. Eric was fresh out of law school and working at law firm in Denver where he and Heidi rent an apartment. My heart sank a little at that discovery, reminding me that we would never escape each other. I told Eric I was writing for the Denver Post, mostly online articles. But he already knew that, and I hated myself for blushing when he complimented my writing. As I drained my bottle of beer, I found myself growing bolder in my questioning, asking why it took so long for him and Heidi to get married. He averted my gaze, mumbling about money, and law school, and the 'right time'.

As if in a trance, I was disorientated when he finally said he should get back to Heidi. Maybe that's why I jumped at the chance when he offered to exchange numbers so we could meet up sometime. This had been the most enjoyable part of the evening and it was over so swiftly, I wanted to seize any opportunity that meant spending time with him again. Although when I found myself alone once more, with his phone number the combination to a temptation I had managed to lock away in the furthest part of my mind, I realised that meeting up with him was probably a bad idea.

But all I could do was drink, and reminisce, and blot out the celebrations around me. My ears pricked up however, when the DJ announced that the bride and groom were ready for their first dance. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the dancefloor, including mine. The surrounding tables, the decorations, all became blurred and I saw only the swish of Heidi's beautiful ivory gown, his hands splayed on her back, and their blissful expressions mirroring one another. It was like prom all over again, except I was alone, his eyes weren't searching for me, and it was just them out there. This night is all about them, marking the beginning of a lifetime spent together. A life I would never have. Even if I learned to move on a part of my soul would always be incomplete. And they had signed a document to make it official, not only had they decided the course of their lives, but mine too.

I couldn't stay. I didn't wait for their dance to finish before I left, calling for a taxi out in the lobby. I could have waited indoors but I could still hear the wedding party, I would rather wait outside. It was freezing, my beer-soaked breath hung icily in the air but I didn't mind, at least I had escaped.

"Kyle!"

"Fuck…" I muttered, not turning around as if my ignorance could make him vanish. But I heard his footsteps drawing closer.

"Hey, why are you leaving so soon?" He asked when he was standing beside me.

"I have work tomorrow," I replied, wrapping my arms tightly around myself and avoiding his gaze.

"Yeah, but you could have at least said goodbye! I looked over at your table and you were gone."

"I'm sorry, I just figured you were busy."

I heard Eric huff irritably.

"Well, I would have spared a second to say goodbye to you," he said.

I stiffened, turned my head slowly to him with wide, glassy eyes.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, of course," he chuckled quietly, a tiny crease in his brow.

I continued to stare at him, searching for anything on his face that belied his response but I couldn't find anything.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

My eyes burned, my lip wobbled, and I shook my head.

"No…" I admitted. "And being here… seeing you… it made me realise that I'm not okay at all."

"What are you talking about?"

I took an emboldening breath and tried to harden my stare into something a little less dazed and pathetic.

"Why did you invite me?" I asked, sharper than I felt.

Eric blinked, the crease in his brow deepened and he scoffed.

"Because you're my- you mean a lot to me," he answered. "I wanted you to be here."

"That's what I thought…" I muttered, looking down the street to see if I could spot my cab.

"Fuck, Kyle, what do you want me to say!" Eric snapped. "The truth!"

I turned to face him fully then, irate and fearless.

"And what is the truth?"

"I wanted to see you! I've missed you!"

"Oh, and you thought your wedding was the most appropriate place to see me again!"

"I didn't know what else to do!" He exclaimed desperately. "And if you feel that way, why did you come in the first place!"

I clamped my mouth shut. I knew my reasons, of course I did, but I couldn't bear to admit it out loud. Especially now, this night.

"I… I…"

"What!" Eric demanded.

I huffed, impatient and embarrassed, before cupping his face and pulling him to my lips. Our mouths collided hard, and his familiar scent and taste assaulted my senses and provided a sharper, more euphoric intoxication than all the alcohol in that hotel bar combined. His cheeks were searing beneath my cold, stiff fingers and his skin was as soft as I remembered whether I was clawing my fingers in and delighting in the flushed marks I'd leave behind or brushing it with my fingertips as gentle as rain, and oh God, I've missed him. I've missed him so much and now every day spent apart feels like a decade within itself. But I know this is wrong, I know it's too late. I let him go, and we were frozen and reeling, panting, and startled. Possibly devastated, definitely crumbling with guilt.

I whispered, "I'm sorry-"

I was interrupted by a harder, deeper kiss, our mouths open wide, and his thick fingers moved from my cheeks and into my hair. His tongue was hot and wet while mine probably tasted like beer but he didn't care, pressing me closer to him and tugging at my hair with short groans, while my fingers raked down his arms. We were both breathless when it ended, the whites of our eyes gleaming against our irises darkened in the shadow of our dilated pupils. Shrill shock ringing from deep, unyielding desire.

Eric exhaled shakily, pressed our foreheads together and cupped my burning face.

"God damn it, Kyle…"

"I'm sorry," I breathed out, shaking my head.

"Don't be," he replied firmly, before nuzzling me and whispering, "don't be…"

We held each other, trying to catch our breaths with our eyes lowered until a car pulled up beside us. Glancing at it, I realised it was for me.

"My cab," I blurted out. "My cab is here…"

Eric nodded.

"Alright," he said, releasing me.

I was shaking, flustered, when I opened the cab door. Eric was still stood there, looking at me almost plaintively but I couldn't dwell on that.

"Congratulations, Eric," I said, though the words tasted bitter. "Again."

"Thanks," he managed to reply with a smile. "I better go back inside."

"Sure," I nodded.

"Good night, Kyle."

"Good night," I replied, getting into the cab, and I trembled all the way home.

---

I had come up with a plan for us to hang out, just the two of us. I told him I was struggling in history class and that I would really appreciate it if he came over to help me out. History is a subject he excels in, and I figured asking for his assistance would stroke his ego a little bit. If he even cared that much about it anymore, if there are things he places above it now, like her.

Maybe I'm too distant, too clouded by emotion to say with certainty, but there is a difference in him, I've noticed it. He's mellow and softer… happier. Her affection, her attention, her validation, and all the things he must find irresistible about her have brought him joy which I don't want him to be without. I just wish that he could have found that happiness in me, that he would have let me try but I guess I'll never know if he could. And maybe it's better this way? I can't think about such impossibilities. I have to focus on what is achievable, what I can have, and right now that's him, in my bedroom, without her, with all the time in the world to talk to him and be around him. In the drawn out, comfortable beats of conversation I sighed quietly to myself and swore I was inhaling the residual, sweet essence of a childhood spent together.

We had abandoned talk of history class long ago. I already understood what he was trying to explain to me. I was more interested in noting the familiar inflections that his matured voice now tried to hide, in watching his lips move (and my heart would chase after the occasional smile that was always wicked whatever the situation), in his golden eyes that had once unnerved me, but now enchanted me because I had never met anyone else who possessed such a shade. Sitting at my desk with him, both reading the same textbook with our knees touching under the table felt like a wonderful dream I was so close to waking up from but I was wasting my time there.

So I initiated a different conversation and we soon found ourselves distracted, set so adrift in this boundless, liberated setting where we could talk about anything and everything forever if we wanted that we moved from my desk to my bed without even mentioning it. He was leaning against the window sill above my bed, his long legs dangling off the side, and I had propped a pillow behind my head, wondering if he realised how many hours had gone by. His phone had continuously buzzed - messages from Heidi I guessed - but he never looked once. It was exhilarating, to be the subject of his undivided attention. It felt like we were on the same wavelength for the first time in years, despite his other commitments. But perhaps they had been suspended? Because the personality he had projected that seemed so foreign to me was wavering, the boy I remembered reappearing. His inappropriate jokes about our classmates had me snorting with laughter, his tendency to provoke was stirring its head and reminded me how much I had missed a little disagreement in my life. But he was a brilliant listener now – I had to give Heidi credit – he nodded along to my anecdotes with engrossed eyes and the smallest, most charming of smiles, interjecting when necessary… and sometimes not…

"Wait, wait, am I hearing this right? Kyle Broflovski had sex with a guy on the school football field!"

I rolled my eyes and felt my face grow warm, it sounded even worse when he said it.

"Jesus, you don't have to refer to me in the third person I'm right here!"

"I just… man, I can't believe it!" Cartman laughed, eyes gleaming. "That's so wild!"

I fidgeted and started to fiddle with the laces of my sneakers.

"Not wild just…" I shrugged and then sighed, because I didn't know what it was. "The result of a lack of inhibitions caused by too much alcohol."

Cartman scoffed. "You can try to excuse yourself all you want. It's still pretty wild for you. Who was the guy?"

"I don't want to say," I replied.

Too many people knew already.

"Why not?"

"Because it'll scandalise you even more and you won't shut up about it!"

"Just tell me and I'll never mention it again."

I huffed and crossed my arms. "I'm wishing I never said anything in the first place."

"Come on, Kyle!" He begged, shifting closer to me and God, he actually pouted. "Please?"

My breath snagged on simmering arousal. How could I refuse when he was looking at me like that? Ridiculous and yet so, so adorable…

"Fine," I sighed. "It was Corey Belk."

Cartman's shoulders drooped and his eyebrows furrowed. "Who?"

Great.

"You know, the quarterback from Jefferson County?"

Cartman's eyes widened and he pursed his lips, obviously dying to laugh. I scowled, my face practically burning at this point, I reached for the pillow behind my head and hit him with it.

"Stop looking at me like that!"

Cartman laughed, his own face flushed.

"Oh, Kyle, you dirty girl!" He teased, that wicked smirk growing wider. I had to look away. "Literally sleeping with the enemy…"

Okay, I may have been crazy about him but I wasn't going to let that one slide.

"Shut up!" I snapped, wishing my face would cool down soon. Flustered was not a good look on me. "Since when do you give a shit about football?"

"I don't," he chuckled. "And hey, why didn't I hear about this sooner?"

"It's not exactly common knowledge," I muttered, though the small amount of people who did know was horrid enough. I hated rumours, even more so when they concerned me. However I smirked and tried to deflect my discomfort. "Besides, does even the hottest gossip reach you and Heidi on Monogamy Island?"

Cartman blinked and he stiffened. Clearly, this was unexpected. He really should've known better. He rolled his eyes and the dissipating, amused flush reddened considerably.

"We keep to ourselves…" he muttered.

"Clearly," I snickered. I should have stopped, I really should have moved the conversation along, and God knows he wouldn't have minded. But I couldn't help myself, we were already walking a precarious line, I had already spotted the flicker of curiosity and couldn't pretend, couldn't blow it out. "Speaking of Heidi, what are things like between you two?"

Cartman's brow was knitted when he asked, "what things?"

I rolled my eyes; I had wanted to be discreet. But he was too coy for that, or too naïve. "You know…"

"No, I don't."

I huffed and threw my arms down at my sides. "Come on, Cartman, I know you, you're not that naïve!" I said with an exasperated laugh. "We've been talking about my sex life for half an hour, so now it's your turn."

"Jesus…" Cartman whispered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. Damn, he looked cute when he did that. And the odd angles his hair was momentarily stuck up in were even cuter. "What the hell do you want to know?"

I was lost now, and that flicker of curiosity refused to shine a light on anything in particular. Or rather, anything I was willing to ask, because whenever I thought of him in a sexual situation, pondered those types of intimate details Heidi was never in the picture.

"Well, to be honest, I've never been that interested before," I admitted.

"Unless you ask for specifics I don't really know what to tell you."

"Alright…" I searched my brain for something generic. "How often do you guys fuck?"

Cartman shrugged, face impassive. "Often enough."

"Is it good?"

Cartman's eyes met mine, and they flashed warily like an amber warning light. His lips parted to answer but he turned away and bowed his head. His cheeks were still flushed, and I could hear his timid, threadbare breathing.

I lowered my head, tried to find his gaze again.

"Cartman?"

He cleared his throat and lifted his head.

"Yeah, it's great…" he replied, nodding and staring at the far wall. "Awesome…"

"Are you sure?"

He stared at me hard, affronted and it was enough to get my heart racing. I could feel the tremors like you would an earthquake beneath your feet.

"Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"Y-y-you don't sound too convinced," I managed to reply.

"Fine!" He snapped. "It's fantastic, transcendent, I've gone through ten different mattresses because we just keep wearing them out. Happy now?"

Honestly, I was. At least I felt a little more at ease, I couldn't stop the laughter bubbling on my lips.

"Jesus, calm down!" I said, lifting my hands defensively. "You'd swear you weren't getting laid at all, you're so uptight!"

Cartman narrowed his eyes at me, but I spotted the wry smile on his face.

"It's just I didn't know how to answer your question," he said with a sigh. "What kind of question is that to ask me, anyway? How am I supposed to know how good the sex is if she's the only person I've done it with?"

"I… good point," I conceded. "What I should have asked is if you enjoy it…"

"Yeah, of course I do…" he mumbled.

He was looking at his lap, his mouth in a thin line and the question I wanted to ask him was making the silence buckle.

"Cartman?"

He looked at me. "Yeah?"

"Do you… does it bother you?" I asked gently. "That you haven't been with anybody else?"

"No… I guess…" he ran his hand through his hair again. "I don't know…"

I frowned. I thought I would be delighted that everything between he and Heidi wasn't as perfect as it appeared, that there was a tiny gap in their inescapable happiness. Instead, I just felt pity, and guilt, maybe before this conversation he had never considered what he was missing out on.

"But that's normal, I think," I said.

He nodded to himself. "I love her…"

"I know you do."

"But I guess it just… it freaks me out to think that everyone else is having all these different experiences, but not me and her," Cartman confessed. "I like being with her, and I know I'm lucky, but I just feel like I'm missing out on something. I don't know whether it would be better if we weren't together, but it could be, right? And if I stay with Heidi I'll never know."

Shit, what have I done? What does this mean? I can't think selfishly now, I have to make this better. Because the way he's talking, the way he's acting, it all seemed to be leading to him doing something he'll regret. I shuffled closer to him and placed a hand on his knee, remembering he did that to Heidi in the basketball game. I hope it offers the same comfort, the same sense of urgency. I hope it indicates I'm about to tell him something important.

"Look, I understand what you're saying. But you've been together for eight years, that's incredible! Do you think many people our age can pull that off?" I was relieved when he looked at me and smiled. "And at least when you have been with someone that long, what you have with each other is real, and dependable and intimate. Yeah, spontaneous, anonymous sex can be fun and hot but everybody wants what you guys have deep down."

He looked at me again, an eyebrow arched. "Do you?"

Our eyes met, my fingers were still on him. I wished we could always be this close and closer still. And, the truth is, I don't know if everybody wants that kind of intimacy and devotion but I do. Fuck, I want it so bad and even this tiny, weak, unreciprocated surge of it I'm feeling right now is so much more exciting than any brief, passionate encounter. How could anybody not want to feel this way?

"I really do," I nodded. "Besides, whatever experiences you want to have or you're curious about… maybe you and Heidi can do those things together, right?"

Cartman lowered his gaze and exhaled slowly. "Hmm… I don't know…"

"What do you mean?" I chuckled. "Of course you can!"

He shook his head and shrugged away from my touch. But I've gotten used to the sting.

"No, there are some things I…" He swallowed, I heard him gulp. "I-I-I'd have to do without her."

"Like what?" I whispered, before smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Tell me!"

"No, because I'll never be able to look you in the eye again."

My eyebrows furrowed, intrigued and confused.

"Cartman, we'll be out of this town by next year and we may never see each other again after that," I pointed out. "So I think I could handle a few months of being uncomfortable around you until then."

"Fine," he sighed, sliding his gaze to me again. "I want to know… I want to know what it's like to be with a guy."

Misguided opportunity filled my heart before I could stop it, the possible implications were dizzying. "Uh- a guy?"

"Yeah…"

"You mean, like, you want to have sex with a guy?"

"I don't know!" he huffed. "I guess, but even just a kiss I would be fine with-" he rolled his eyes and buried his head in his hands. "Why the hell am I even telling you all this?"

"Because we're friends," I replied, and I found myself reaching out for him and grabbing his arm.

My grip was strong enough that he lifted his head out of his hands and directed his attention to my fingers wrapped around his forearm.

"I thought you said we'd never see each other again after this year."

"Yeah, well, I was counting on it because that's generally what happens but I don't want it to happen."

"You don't?"

I shook my head, and his warm skin beneath my own and our shared honesty was emboldening, exhilarating, intoxicating. We both knew what we wanted and even if he couldn't give me him forever I could still sate his curiosity, and I would cherish the experience for the rest of my life. This may have been our only opportunity. Seizing whatever fearlessness my mind was emanating, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

My eyes immediately slipped shut so I could lose myself in the fantasy I had replayed to death in my mind, and in his soft, cool lips and hot breath and God, kissing him felt like the dream it had always been. But it wasn't a dream, it was reality. It was Eric Cartman's arm frozen beneath my fingers, his unresponsive lips against my own and it terrified me but I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop until he pushed me away and told me he could never speak to me or look at me again.

But then his mouth opened beneath my own, claimed my lips in a tender clasp. A gasp died in my throat when he angled his head and leaned in closer. He sunk his fingers into my shoulder and I dug my own fingers into his arm, it were as if we were reminding ourselves what we were doing and we weren't about to relinquish each other just yet. His tongue soon found its way into my mouth, sultry and eager and I returned the favour. He was demanding and fervent like I imagined he'd be but I was determined to show him I could keep up, and with all these years of repressed desire fuelling me I had no problem doing just that.

Our soft, glistening pants and the tiny smack of our lips connecting and separating drove me crazy. My mouth was numb but he always kissed me better. Arousal made my air-conditioned room in the middle of spring unbearably hot, I could taste the sweat on our lips. My clothes felt stuffy and damp, and my whirring, flustered mind wanted to be rid of them, especially my jeans that were growing tighter and tighter. Boldly, I toyed with the thought of grabbing his wrist, lowering his hand to my crotch and letting him decide what he wanted to do about it. In my mind, he had never refused me, had always satisfied me. Now, everything was so unclear, even my judgement was hazy.

Was he hard too? I couldn't open my eyes long enough, they were fluttering under the weight of my pleasure. His kisses were enthusiastic and relentless, and his breath ragged. It was possible he wanted this to go further. My thoughts were racing too fast, and I couldn't stop kissing him, when our lips were briefly separated I moaned almost deliriously. That was when he pulled away.

His kiss-bruised lips and frightened eyes startled me.

"I, I, I should go…" he managed to get out when he was still finding his breath.

I nodded, mortified and shaking. My arousal had curdled into shame, what had I done?

"Okay…" I murmured, my body moved slowly to sit at the edge of the bed.

Meanwhile, Cartman had shot up and was hurriedly gathering his things like he couldn't bear to spend another minute with me. Oh fuck, oh God, please tell me I hadn't messed this all up…

"I'll walk you out," I offered, I don't know why. I cringed as soon as I said it.

But Cartman nodded sheepishly, and I followed him out of the room. We didn't talk as we walked downstairs though, despite being desperate to say something. I just needed to know if we were okay, if he irreparably hated me. And if so, I would beg him for forgiveness because I meant what I said. I don't ever want to be without him. I had already lost him once, how could I be so stupid as to lose him again? Love really does make you act like a dumbass. And a coward, I couldn't even open my mouth. Damn it, I could still taste him.

Cartman opened the front door. I just stood there wringing my hands.

"I'll see you in class," he said to me over his shoulder.

"Yeah, see you in class," I replied, but my voice was hollow.

He walked away and I stood where he once was and watched him, the cold air against my face felt like a much-needed reality check when I had gotten so carried away. He was going back to Heidi, and he'd have to live with the guilt of what he had done here with me. Perhaps nothing would be the same between them, regardless of whether he kept it to himself or told her. Do they keep secrets? He would resent me forever, for tarnishing what was once so pristine. I would lose him, and I would have nobody to blame but myself. My nose stung and my heart creaked.

But then he stopped, curiosity held me dangling over the dread I was about to plummet into. He looked up at the clouds before he stormed back over to me. My heart had leapt into my throat, and when he was in front of me, and when I was the subject of his intense stare I realised how tall and intimidating he was.

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing," he announced.

My words failed me again. I shook my head, staring up at him with wide eyes. He pushed me back inside my house and I jolted when he slammed the door shut. Suddenly, his large hands were cupping my face and pulling me to his lips. I gripped his shoulders, and with the sheer force of our kiss we decimated the boundaries between fantasy and reality, right and wrong.

I led him upstairs, our hands linked and sweaty. He stayed for another two hours.

---

We are ruled by our heart and our brain, instinct and impulse. Both can cloud our judgement. I thought I had outgrown thinking impulsively, had adopted a rationality honed by razored experience. But training my mind was one thing, my heart was another – I realised – impossible task. Evident in how I had shown up to a wedding I never wanted to go to, gave my number to somebody whose life I shouldn't be intruding on, and kissed him when it was too late. The latter was all too familiar to me.

Eric had text me upon returning from his honeymoon, Barbados to be exact. My instinct was to keep things casual, friendly, ask questions that concerned Heidi too, as if to dissuade him from making more than platonic conversation, to assure him it would be a bad idea. It had seemed to work, until the vacation photos started pouring in and the golden threads the sun had woven into his hair made my heart glow with opportunity - plus the subject of his tan couldn't be passed up. His flirty reply unlocked the impulse for me to do the same. Until that become the predominant nature of our conversations and we were texting every day.

Of course it wasn't completely sordid, that's my justification. We talked about our jobs, our hometown, and I inquired about his married life out of politeness. That was when he revealed that Heidi's long hours at work were becoming an issue, one that he hadn't even noticed before they were married. What he really meant is that they weren't an issue before I reappeared in his life and cast doubt on everything. A couple days after that confession he had called me, telling me that he was tired of having dinner alone every night and that the guilt for feeling so lonely just made him feel worse. I didn't know what guilt he was referring to, and I was hardly the appropriate receptacle for his marriage woes, but then he told me that he had just wanted to hear my voice and my apprehension melted. Our calls became more frequent after that, and one lonely night resulted in phone sex that made me mindlessly accept his invitation to lunch when I was still catching my breath and my eyes were still swimming with lusty images of him.

We met in a hotel for our meal, speeding through our lunch and finding a thankfully empty elevator where we could kiss and grope and whisper things too vulnerable to say over the phone, on our way to the hotel room that Eric had booked beforehand. My adrenaline was driving both my nerves and excitement at an incompressible speed until they collided and sent me flying into Eric's arms; mouthing at his neck, unbuttoning his shirt, pinning him to the hotel bed.

Afterwards, trembling and breathless, my head resting on his heaving chest my thoughts were playing in a reprimanding, anxious loop but my heart was hammering into me the decision to keep doing this because it felt so good, and we were so great together, and I had missed this so much. We had kept promising each other that we would get up, get dressed, and leave in just five more minutes and I felt every second drip away in his embrace.

Descending from my post-coital high, this plain of reality where only we existed under cotton sheets, my mind had discovered the impracticalities of constantly meeting up in hotels, the seedy connotations behind slipping away and coming together in a bed that belonged to neither of us. But my heart had flinched and retreated at the thought of going to his place he shared with Heidi. Too risky for him, too painful for me. My apartment, it was decided, would be the best location for our trysts that were happening more and more often.

Like tonight. He was coming straight from work, and I had only arrived home an hour ago. Although this wasn't the first time, I was at a loss for what to do whenever he came over. Should I change? But into what? And did it matter when we weren't going out and they would end up on the floor soon anyway? I was fussing with my hair in the bedroom mirror now, out of impatience more than anything else, because I very rarely cared about how it looked, and it would be mussed and sweaty very soon. My breath stuttered and my arousal lurched. Gone were the anxieties, only anticipation and addiction remained, the tantalising, passionate surface to our buried guilt. It was difficult to ignore, seeping into the roots and no doubt slowly rotting our blossoming affair. But I would enjoy it as much as I could, for as long as it would last.

I heard a knock at the door. His signature knock. Short, hard, demanding, and I rushed to answer it. When I opened the door he raked his gaze over me, and I always loved watching him grin, slow and purposeful.

"Damn, have you just been waiting by the door for me to arrive?"

"I have been expecting you, but come on, I'm not desperate," I replied.

I stepped aside to let him in, drinking in how gorgeous and confident he was in his suit, imagining the swagger which he no doubt possessed as he strode around his office, with parted lips. I jolted at feeling his hands on me, they were roaming my hips.

"Really?" He asked softly, his eyes on my mouth. "That's a shame…"

"And why's that?" I grinned, tugging at his tie.

"Because I've been thinking about you all day."

"Thinking about me doing what?"

A quiet snicker left his lips, my hands travelled up his arms.

"Well, those details I was going to tell you later when you were undressed and in a far more compromising position," he answered huskily.

"I think I'm already in one."

As if I could implore him for the details he was keeping from me with my touch, my fingers floated into his hair, soft beneath the gel, and my grin flickered when a lock skimmed his brow. I pulled him closer, reached up so our lips could brush together and our breaths were sultry and ragged.

"But before that, you were going out of your mind waiting for me and it was very hot," he revealed.

I didn't doubt that, I could feel myself getting hard.

"Well, don't tell anybody but I was doing exactly that at work today," I replied, twirling his hair around my finger coyly.

His eyes glowed with flattery. "You were?"

I nodded, my eyes roaming his body as greedily as my hands would when I had him out of his clothes.

"I just wanted to come home and get in bed with you," I admitted.

"That makes two of us…"

His hands trailed to my ass, cupping and squeezing me, my gasp suffocating beneath the strong press of his lips. I was initially frozen with surprise, awed by the kiss even after the hundreds that had come before it. But I was soon thawed out by his hot tongue and plush lips. My own tongue found its way into his mouth, my arms looped around his neck, and Eric soon lifted me, hitching me up when I wrapped my legs around his broad waist, and carried me to my bedroom.

---

I never thought I would spend a Saturday afternoon like this; Eric and I, making out on my bed in our underwear (our amorous activities always seem to be bridged by kisses). Yet this must have been the fifth or sixth time where something similar had occurred during our "tutoring sessions". That was just our cover, the placeholder until we came up with something more specific to call these… liaisons. But we had little time for conversation, and honestly the thought of untangling and verbalising our situation was both exhausting and unnerving.

"My mouth is hurting," Eric, whispered between kisses.

I only called him 'Cartman' in class now. I had moaned his first name the first time he unzipped my fly and delved into my boxers. It felt easier, instinctive, right, and he responded well to it. Fantastically, in fact.

Before I could answer, he gave me another slow, chaste peck and I chuckled.

"And yet you're still kissing me…"

"I can't help it," he shrugged.

His eyes were darkened and simmering, framed by his soft, chestnut hair that I had come to adore running my fingers through, his lips were flushed and his body was warm pressed against mine.

"We could take a little break?" I suggested, drawing circles on his chest with my finger.

"Okay,"

"We could actually study?"

Eric glanced at my desk and chuckled, his laughter was contagious and he rewarded me by wrapping me up in his embrace.

"No," he grinned. "I want to stay here."

I felt so safe in his big arms, protected from all consequences, all truths. In here, with him, everything was perfect. Slowly, he reached up and ran his thumb across my lower lip, repeating the action while his gaze held my own, almost hypnotic, I could feel my breath slow as if I were waiting for him to say something. But he seemed to be content in his silence, in me.

"You're staring," the words floated out of my mouth.

"Because you're gorgeous," he replied, smiling softly. "You have the greatest lips."

My cheeks heated instantly. Despite how intimate we had been with each other, all the things we had shown, and done, and said, his compliments could still make my heart stutter at their sincerity.

"I could say the same about you," I returned.

"Heidi calls me cute. She does it all the time."

"Of course she does," I chuckled.

I had become used to her name coming up in conversation now. I had no choice, it was to be expected.

Eric sighed. "I don't want to be called cute."

"What's wrong with cute?"

"It's silly," he replied, his nose wrinkling with displeasure.

"Then what do you want to be called?"

"I'm not sure. What would you call me?"

I pretended to think, to search my brain, but the words flooded my mind and I found myself trying to swim through my thoughts, to reach the surface, to reach clarity. I doubted I would ever have clarity when it came to him; fascinating, intelligent, extraordinary, infuriating, enigmatic, addictive, irresistible.

But I smirked and said, "Annoying…"

Eric shook his head, feigning offense before biting his lip to supress his grin and smacking my ass.

"Smartass…" he murmured.

I laughed, although my mind, prone to jealousy, was wandering. Do he and Heidi joke and fool around like this? Do his eyes glimmer around her when she enters a room, makes him laugh, when they undress? Or has that glimmer extinguished with time? Does he kiss her and touch her with the same impatience time and time again? Or does he just do that with me because what we have is new, and exciting and he wants to soak up every last ounce of thrill that I can offer him before that's exhausted too? Does he just moan, and curse, and gasp my name into my neck? Are they still in love? Is that what I'm supposed to believe? Then why is he here if she already gives him everything he could want?

"Ever since we started…" Eric paused, trying to find a good definition of what we were doing although we both know how difficult that is. "Whatever this is-"

"Hanging out again?"

"Sure," he smiled. "I've realised how much I missed it."

"What?" I asked, my brows furrowed and I snickered. I trailed my foot up his calf. "We never did this when we were kids."

Eric smirked and rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean…" he murmured. "Spending time with each other. I've missed you."

A lump rose in my throat and I knew that if I looked into his eyes I would cry. So I lowered my gaze and nuzzled behind his ear.

"I've missed you too," I whispered.

Once the pang had subsided, I sensed an opportunity previously overlooked in his words.

"You can always hang out with me, and Stan, and Kenny?" I offered, lifting my head.

Eric fidgeted, and I knew he was trying to avoid my gaze.

"No, that's okay," he replied, returning to me with a gentle smile. "I'd rather keep doing this."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded, and shifted his body so we were eye-to-eye, before pressing his forehead to my own.

"I just want you," he whispered.

I didn't say anything, holding his words fiercely close to my heart, too afraid to unpick them in case everything unravelled.

---

We had stopped gasping, and moaning, and thrusting, and pawing at each other twenty minutes ago. Or was it fifteen? We had stopped trembling sooner, had breached from each other's arms when we had reached our climaxes and our arousal had ceased stirring. Although we were separated we were still close. His glistening chest was pressed against my damp back, his own thick arm wrapped around me as he placed tiny kisses in my hair.

"Kyle?" Eric murmured into my curls. "You're not asleep are you?"

A lazy smile stretched across my face. Honestly, I adore these drowsy, content moments just as much as the thrilling moments of ecstasy we share.

"No…" I replied. My skin bristled against the sheets as I turned around to face him. "But I feel like I could fall asleep any minute."

"Yeah, I'm pretty spent too," he smiled.

"You can't fall asleep here. I'll never wake you up."

"I'm not that heavy of a sleeper."

I scoffed, and I could feel his chest tremor with soft chuckles.

"Your snoring would drive me insane too," I remarked.

"Since when do I snore?!"

"Always!" I laughed. "Seriously, Heidi deserves a medal for tolerating it."

Her name was as sharp as needle, puncturing the bliss even though we had wrapped it in my sheets.

Suddenly, Eric asked, "So… how's work?"

"Huh?"

"How's work?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "It's fine, busy… "

"Is that it?" Eric pressed.

"Yeah? What else do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," Eric replied irritably. "You're usually more talkative."

I glanced over his shoulder at my alarm clock which was on the side of the bed Eric was occupying.

"I'm just concerned," I admitted.

"About what?"

"Time," I said with a sigh. "I don't want you to be late coming home and for Heidi to get suspicious."

We always cuddled, but soon Eric would get out of bed and take a shower. I would lie there and dwell with the mingled scent of our sweat floating into my nostrils. Now, he looked over his shoulder, before turning back to me and shrugging.

"We've got plenty of time," he concluded, holding me closer.

He was warm and soft, yet also so sturdy that I felt brave enough to let my eyes become half-lidded, to rest my head on his chest and let my fingers wander his skin.

"How's everything with you?" I asked.

"Well, we just scored a major client at the firm, so that's awesome," Eric replied. "My mom is dating this guy called Hank and she wants Heidi and me to come over for brunch so that should be…"

"Interesting?" I guessed.

"Mortifying,"

I laughed, nuzzled him.

"Heidi's going out of town in a few weeks…"

Opportunity lurched, seizing the sentence, and it clung in its hungry teeth.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's this huge case and it's pretty fucking amazing that she's been asked to go assist in it…"

"Wow, how long will she be gone for?" I asked, hoping my body hadn't involuntarily stiffened in his arms. I didn't want to give anything away.

"A week," Eric answered. I felt his thumb brush against my skin, his chest rise and fall in exhale. "And I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner one night?"

I sat up, and looking down at him, with his arms bereft of me, his eyes raised and now wary of his invitation, it felt like I was rejecting him. Really, I was just reluctant. Extremely reluctant, in fact.

"You mean when Heidi's not there?" I asked.

"Obviously," Eric replied, I could tell he was bruised by my apprehension. "And you can stay over too."

"Stay over?"

My eyes widened, dread and eagerness vied for attention in my chest.

"Yeah? Jesus, Kyle, don't look so horrified, it's only my apartment," Eric replied testily. "You will make it out alive, you know…"

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "I know that, but don't you think it's a little weird?"

"Not really," Eric shrugged. "Heidi won't be there so what's the problem?"

"It just feels too risky, like, what if Heidi came home early and caught us?"

Even hypothetically speaking the notion terrified me, the barbed words that would be exchanged and the voices raised if this were all to crumble made me flinch.

"That won't happen," Eric assured.

I sighed, lowering my gaze to my lap before I returned it to Eric. He wanted this so much, perhaps, that he was blind to an outcome where it all didn't go fantastically, blind to the idea that going to his apartment would make me feel exposed and vulnerable. Would I always be an intruder?

"I appreciate the offer, Eric, I really do," I replied, stroking his cheek and it elicited a smile from him. "But why don't we just go out for dinner and stay here?"

"Because I want to make dinner for you," he answered, wrapping his fingers around my wrist.

I blinked, studying his face for any sign that I had misheard. I ignored dread and eagerness, disbelief had now drowned them out.

"You do?" I asked, helplessly smiling.

Eric nodded, smiling too.

"I know this – what we have – isn't an ideal situation," he admitted. "I hate that we can't go on dates, or go on vacation, or have all the time in the world to spend together, so I want to make up for all those things I can't give you, Kyle. Now I have a chance."

"Eric, it's okay," I sighed, shaking my head as if I could disregard his earnest words but I couldn't. They were still ringing in my ears, in my heart. "I know what the situation is, I don't mind-"

"Heidi won't be there, we'll have the entire apartment all to ourselves, we don't have to rush… we can just go slowly and have a great time. How does that sound?"

"Lovely," I admitted. "It sounds lovely."

"Is that a yes?" Eric asked, eyes brightening, triumphant already.

I plastered on an exasperated smile and nodded. I was still reluctant, still cautious, my mind was blaring with alarm, but my heart was giddy at how wonderful the evening sounded.

Grinning, Eric pulled me on top of him and wrapped his arms around me. Gazing into his eyes, our noses brushing together, and reflecting his grin, I refused to notice that the evening was progressing, and he was still here. We could have fucked again for all I cared about time and suspicion.

"It's funny, I thought your persistence would soften with age," I teased, leaning ever so slightly forward to capture his lips.

---

Prom was fast approaching, and although I was technically seeing someone I still had my reservations. Since the guy I was seeing already had a guaranteed date that wasn't me. I hated the thought of going alone, but didn't want to miss out and didn't want to ask anyone else. Partly because I felt like it would be a betrayal to Eric, and partly because I couldn't imagine going with anyone else. I wanted him, sharply dressed and handsome, on my arm, I wanted our photo to be taken and I would keep it forever, even when I had moved on and he had vacated my heart (although the more time I spent with him, the more I never wanted him to leave). And I only wanted to dance with him, to make a completely idiot out of myself with him, to sway with him under the lights and hold him close.

But I never told him this. No, it would be too painful of a topic when we always tried to keep our conversations away from the things that could break what was already so fragile and precarious; ambiguity, secrecy, jealousy. So I kept my mouth shut. I gritted my teeth and swallowed the aching lump in my throat. It would only be until after prom, and then all those tricky, dangerous subjects would feel a little lighter. Hopefully.

Still, the run up to prom had its perks. Like today, when Heidi needed to go dress shopping and since she – like Eric – was alienated from the girls in our grade, who she had once called friends, she had instead asked her cousins from Texas to stay for the weekend and consult her in picking the perfect dress. This meant I had the entire day with Eric to myself, the entire day where it could be just us. Ever since Eric had discovered Heidi's cousins were visiting he couldn't shut up about spending the day together and honestly I didn't want him to.

So he picked me up in his second-hand truck, and the songs on the radio were lost to the speed of which we drove through the streets with the windows down. Soon, we found ourselves on the outskirts of town and a place I hadn't been in years. A meadow with tall green grass, and spring flowers and a pond surrounded by rocks to sit on and admire the view.

I gasped when I got out of the truck, walking slowly and the long blades of grass brushed my fingertips.

"Remember this place?" Eric asked, still by the truck. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, of course!" I laughed, looking over my shoulder. "I haven't been here in forever!"

Eric was smirking, arms folded, basking in his triumph and possibly in the knowledge that he had made me happy.

"One more thing…" he said, and intrigued, I made my way back over to him.

Eric threw a blanket off something he was keeping in the backseat of the truck, and when he lifted it up I could see it was a picnic basket.

Smiling, he explained, "If we're hungry later…"

I was speechless again, when I had always been so articulate around him before. But that seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Eric, I… you made all this yourself?" I finally replied.

He nodded, his smile had turned sheepish, and mine had turned wide and grateful, overwhelmed by how promising this day was looking. How promising we were looking.

"Thank you," I beamed, throwing my arms around his shoulders and placing a kiss on his lips. "This is really great."

"Yeah, well, we never get to spend the whole day together," he replied, his voice velvety and his eyes lidded. "May as well go all out."

I simply nodded, and kissed him again.

We had our picnic by the water, it consisted of colourful cupcakes and sandwiches that had been cut into perfect triangles and with the crusts cut off too. I had made fun of him for that, but adored the thought of him being so meticulous and delicate. The birds chirped and insects buzzed while we ate and talked and kissed and sipped apple juice from our flasks. We had taken off our sneakers and socks, rolled up our jeans and dipped our toes in the cool pond. We skimmed pebbles too, and argued over who was the best at it, but our lips met and our hands wandered and we called a truce.

The day was growing dimmer, and our picnic was cleared away. Eric had wrapped his arm around me and I had my head on his shoulder, staring out at the pond while he was on his phone. No doubt texting her. I could have read their messages, I was close enough, but knew I would regret it. I knew that even the slightest peak into a world that was still so close would slowly drain the magic out of this meadow.

"This place is beautiful," I commented.

"I know," Eric replied.

"The last time we were here we were… what? Nine? Stan was fishing and I was sitting on this rock," I sighed, a smile began to flicker. "It was sunny and warm and quiet. Why did we stop coming here?"

"Because those asshole Harley riders used to come by here," Eric answered, but didn't look up from his phone.

"Right," I chuckled. "So why did you decide to bring me here today?"

Silence. It was so quiet that I could hear the sound of his thumbs tapping the screen.

"What?" he finally responded

"Why did you bring me here?" I repeated, trying to keep frustration at bay.

"Oh, uh, I don't know. Like you said, we had some good memories here."

I furrowed my eyebrows but was determined not to get pissed off, although with a temper like mine that's easier said than done. But I wanted to enjoy myself here; I didn't want our day to be tainted by anything bitter.

"Remember going ice skating on Starks' Pond?" I asked. "The snowball fights?"

"Yeah…"

I only meant to glance at him, but noticed the photo on his screen, that Heidi had sent him of her in a changing room wearing a purple, strapless dress that skimmed her knees.

What do you think?

She had asked. I watched him reply:

Nice

It felt like something had plummeted in my chest, had come undone, or perhaps it was just the weight of this moment sitting on top of my heart when it was already carrying too much, hoarding too much, when so many crushing instances like these had clung to it and my heart was now too weak to shake them off.

"I think about being a kid a lot, how fun it was," I continued, if he was even listening. I looked away too, for my own good. "But then sometimes I wonder if I'm being too nostalgic about it all, only focusing on the good, easy parts, you know?"

"Sure,"

"I remember all the stressful, dangerous shit we've been through and I'm relieved that we're not caught up in it anymore. But I don't know if I would erase those parts if I could. This town used to be so crazy but it seems to have calmed down now, things have actually been peaceful for a long time."

"The kids who are living here now probably think it's boring as shit though," Eric remarked.

I snickered, but the sound of a new message made me freeze in his one-armed embrace. I saw her out of the corner of my eye again, this time in a red-floor length dress that was slit to the knee and admittedly, she was stunning. I couldn't help myself. I had to read over their conversation.

"How about this one?" She had asked. "It's your favourite colour"

"I really like it," he had replied. And in another message, "You look so hot, babe."

Her latest reply was, "perfect ;)"

"Yeah," I chuckled shakily, belatedly agreeing with him, "It was never dull growing up here."

The jealousy clouding my mind had become asphyxiating, blinding, and I didn't know whether I was choking or if I simply couldn't find anything else to say him. I started to think he didn't deserve my effort anyway, if he was so willing to ignore me. But of course he did, right? He went to all this trouble and made such a big deal about today. Just when that thick, nasty cloud was starting to disperse, just when it was getting easier to breathe, his phone buzzed again. If only he was looking at me, my scathing glare would have actually meant something.

Another photo, this time it was even harder to look away. With pouted lips, and coy fingers fiddling with one of the straps, Heidi was stood in the dressing room wearing just a little black bra and matching lace panties. Compact, curvy, and glowing even under the fluorescent store lights, I was even more incredulous as to why Eric wasn't completely satisfied with her, why he needed me for anything. It was the first time my self-esteem felt charred by this whole situation. She had sent a message to accompany the photo:

"I know you liked the red dress, but…"

"I like this even more," he had replied.

"Maybe I should just go to prom like this then? ;)"

I watched him type: "You'd be the hottest there"

Eyes burning and heart buckling, my resolve finally snapped.

"Fuck this…" I muttered, shrugging his arm off my shoulder and standing up, storming off without even looking back.

"What the- Kyle!" I heard him shout. He was following me too; I could hear his footsteps muffled by the grass. "Kyle, where are you going!"

"Home," I replied tersely, staring straight ahead. I exhaled, and gritted my teeth at how shaky I sounded. "Can you please take me home?"

"Why, what's wrong?"

My vision became blurry then, as if his question had finally driven the tears to my eyes. I crossed my arms tightly, and stared up at the plain, blushing sky. I had no idea how to answer his question without admitting to things that could cost me my pride and possibly cost me him. But when I was ready, I dabbed at my eyes and turned around to face him. He was still there, confusion clouding his face, waiting for an answer.

"You say you want to spend the whole day with me, you drive me out here, and make this big deal about us being alone. I've wanted this for so long and you're not even trying to be a part of it!"

He stepped back, his brow creased. "What are you talking about!"

"Oh, come on, you're texting her!" I exclaimed, loathing the shrill incredulity in my voice. "You think I haven't noticed! Jesus, you weren't exactly subtle about it!"

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked. "Ignore her?"

"Well, ignoring her has never been a problem before! When we're in my room and… is that it?" I stepped back this time, escaping this sudden, devastating realisation. "I can only get your full attention when we're fucking!"

He frowned and started to close the gap between us. "Hey, you know that's not true-"

"Then what is it?"

"I…"

He stopped, hung his head. It was the first display of shame I had seen from him since the first time we kissed.

"I don't know," he finally answered, lifting his head to meet my eyes. "I'm sorry, Kyle, alright? But what the hell am I supposed to do? She's trying on dresses for prom, she's my date, I have to be interested in that! She'd be upset if I didn't and I don't want to hurt her feelings-"

I scoffed, crossed my arms again.

"Jesus Christ, Kyle, she's my…"

"What?" I snapped, not knowing how much I needed to hear him say it until now. Especially now, when it seemed that just by uttering what she was to him I would win this tiny battle. "She's your what? I know what you're going to say, so just say it!"

"My girlfriend!" He shouted. "She's my girlfriend!"

I underestimated the sting. No, the white-hot, gut-wrenching flash of pain that those words would elicit. I clamped my mouth shut, stumbled. I pursed my lips when the lower one began to wobble.

"And I can't just shut her out," Eric continued, softer this time as if he knew. "Even when I'm with you, I can't ignore her. We've been together for eight years."

"And what am I?" I asked. "We've known each other our entire lives, we've been through so much together! We have this… whatever the hell this is… and… fuck, what does it even mean!" I cried. "What does it mean to you!"

I waited, watched his eyes flit and search the grass. If I concentrated really hard I could probably have seen the debate in his head. Before I would have butted in, gotten involved and offered him answers even when he never asked me to. But I didn't want any influence this time, I didn't want to give him any guidance because then his words wouldn't be completely sincere, his answer wouldn't have been genuine. It would have been what I wanted to hear.

Eventually, Eric turned his head but didn't give me anything. I sighed, and figured I should just admit it.

"Because it means everything to me," I murmured.

He looked at me again, and sighed. It was as if his whole body creaked.

"This means a lot to me too," he admitted. "You mean a lot to me. But… come on, you can't be so naïve, Kyle…"

I could feel my anger stirring.

"What?"

"You knew what this would have to be the moment you kissed me!"

"So this is my fault? You cheating on your girlfriend is my fault! Yeah, I was pretty fucking aware what the conditions were!" I snapped.

Eric winced, and shook his head. "Can you not call it that? This isn't cheating!"

"Then what is it? If you're so fucking smart! I've been begging you for answers for weeks and you've told me nothing! God damn it, we're just going around in circles!"

Eric huffed, and scratched the nape of his neck.

"What I meant was… I don't understand how you can be so angry and upset when you know Heidi is in my life," he explained. "I thought you got it… I thought you could handle it."

"So did I," I replied. "I thought I could handle it but I don't know anymore."

His eyes flashed, and he walked towards me with his hand reached out. "Kyle, please-"

"I need to think," I frowned, backed away. "I need to be on my own. Can you just please take me home now?"

He raked his gaze over me, thoughtful and defeated. "Sure, come on…"

We didn't say a word to each other when we got in the truck, and he drove me home without conversation. The radio filled up the silence, and I counted the mountain peaks as we drove back into town. When we pulled up outside my house it was our last chance to speak, to get a few more shots in, to apologise. But we didn't take it.

"Thanks…" I muttered as I opened the door.

"Kyle, wait!"

One foot was on the sidewalk. I looked at him, he had leaned over, his fingers brushing the passenger seat.

"What?"

"What do we do now?" he asked.

By the sixth peak I had realised that we had to do the sensible thing, the right thing. It was painful but it could never be as painful as this, I knew now that what we were and being with him would ultimately destroy me. It was too unpredictable, too risky. Even if it had also been wonderful, and exciting, and had fulfilled every dream I'd had had for eight years. But at least it had been all of those things. That's what I wanted to remember.

"You go to prom with Heidi, I'll be okay," I answered, and I tried to smile.

"Yeah, but, what about us?"

This was never going to be easy, even if he had been the one to put an end to it all. But it was my responsibility now. I had been trying to let him go for eight years, how was I supposed to do it in five minutes? He was trying not to plead, but desperation was gleaming in his beautiful, unusual eyes. My smile fractured and I carefully reached for his hand, he clutched me instantly.

"Let's slow it down for a while, alright?"

His face creased and he shook his head, tugging at my hand. "Kyle, please don't-"

"Just for a little while," I assured him, and smiled. "We can do that, can't we?"

He looked at his lap, his eyes wild with thought again. I felt just as unsure. But I was relieved when he nodded.

"Alright," I whispered, and slid my hand out of his. "I'll see you in school."

"Yeah," he nodded, placing his hands back on the wheel. "I'll see you then."

I smiled tightly at him before shutting the door. He drove off, my hand still warm from where he had held it.

---

My evening with Eric had arrived, and he was handsome and attentive enough, dinner was delicious enough, for my apprehension to mellow into genuine enjoyment. I should have expected it. The sight of him in a suit always managed to floor me, to rid my thoughts of anything other than him. He had so desperately wanted this evening to happen that of course he was going to go all out so I would be convinced once and for all that this was a good idea. And his mom had always been a great cook. It was only natural that he should have inherited those skills. I imagined him as a child, watching her in the kitchen and inhaling those sweet, warm aromas, as a teenager helping her cook and nodding along to her softly-delivered advice.

We had joked around in the kitchen, me lounging against the island with a glass of wine in my hand, while he threw a wicked grin or a quick remark over his shoulder as he cooked. He had taken occasional breaks to exchange kisses with me, and murmured how glad he was that I was there. He had returned to the dinner he was preparing before I could respond. We talked over dinner too, gentler and interrupted by our appetites. It gave me time to really admire his apartment that I had never stepped foot in before.

It was spacious and modern and carefully decorated, and obviously all their recent wedding gifts were on display. Despite the demanding nature of their jobs, all those hours were clearly paying off when it provided them with such a lovely home. A home that a lot of people our age (including me) would have killed for. At first it served to make me feel inadequate, but as the evening wore on and the wine bottle between us was drained, I became curious instead.

Here Eric was, with his incredible apartment, his hotshot job, and a loving wife and yet he was making dinner for me, offering me his bed for the night, and jeopardising everything that made his envious life appear perfect. But was it perfect? Or was that all surface? He was good at that, I realised, tending to his beautiful garden of opportunity, full of gorgeous flowers and gleaming fruit, but there were lurking weeds and rotten cores. Maybe Eric knew that, perhaps he didn't, but he tended his own little patch of contentment silently, and I wanted to break that silence, unearth what was festering below.

"Why do you do it?"

"Huh?" Eric asked, looking up from his plate.

"Why do you keep seeing me? Why do you always come back? You have such a great life with Heidi, but a part of you must not be happy if you're willing to put all that at risk. And what for?" As my questions multiplied I could see the dent in Eric's brow growing deeper, could hear my words loosely tie together in one big ramble. "Sorry, I'm babbling and probably asking dangerous questions but I need to know, Eric."

I was expecting fidgeting, an awkward aversion, not a smirk.

"Which one do you want me to answer first?" he replied.

I chuckled and shook my head. "Don't be a smartass, all those questions are basically asking the same thing."

"Alright," Eric began, setting down his knife and fork. "Heidi is easy – not like that-"

"You should have phrased that better," I chuckled again.

"What I mean is… she's easy to be around, and falling in love with her was the simplest thing," Eric clarified. "A no brainer, really. She's intelligent, and kind, and beautiful. She's everything a guy could want. I think any guy could be content and satisfied with just her-"

"But not you?"

Eric shook his head and avoided my eyes for a little bit, before returning to me with a sheepish smile.

"Not exactly," he replied. "Now, you…"

I blinked, my face warming instantly and the adoration that brimmed in his eyes was so intense and focused that I found it hard to keep looking at him.

"You are hard work, Kyle," he continued. "You're difficult, a challenge. You push me, and test me, and excite me, and I love that about you. There are so many things I love about you, as a kid I actually envied you, was obsessed with you. I was obsessed in figuring you out, catching you out, getting the upper hand, and I don't think I ever did. Even after all we've been through, what we've become, there's still a part of you that's so incredibly unattainable to me and that isn't a bad thing. I don't think anybody will ever grasp or comprehend what it is. All I know is that I can't live without it. So as happy as I am with Heidi, as happy as I appear to you, it's only a reflection of how you make me feel. I love Heidi, but a life without you would be pretty miserable. Even if I can't be with you, I'll settle for what I can get."

I had no words except his that had filled my heart and caused it to burst its banks, flooding me and drowning out every doubt, every hesitation, every feeling of inadequacy, guilt, frustration, injustice, leaving them floating, bloated, and redundant. But all too soon the initial euphoria thinned and faded away and a harsher sun shone on those glistening husks and gave them new breath, new life. They had never been dead, just pacified, and now they were screaming at me in light of this brilliant knowledge. Eric talked about settling, like he had no choice. When there was only one woman who he had lied to for years and a marriage certificate standing between us. But he didn't want to navigate those obstacles. It would be too difficult, too painful, the notion of a loss that translated into an inability to be with me. He may have been fine with settling, but I wasn't. I never wanted to, I just wanted him, to have something real and dependable and certain with him, every day for the rest of my life. Just like Eric couldn't leave Heidi, I couldn't settle for secrecy anymore. It wasn't enough.

"Is that the answer you were hoping for?" Eric asked, breaking the silence.

Slightly disorientated, I gave him a light, dishonest nod.

"Are you done with your food?"

Again, I nodded. My appetite had vanished.

Frowning, Eric slowly rose and made his way over to me. Soon I was bathed in his shadow, his large hand was resting on the back of my chair.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, his eyes roaming over me.

"I'm great," I replied, my smile creased. "And this was wonderful, Eric, thank you."

He grinned, satisfied. "You're welcome."

Suddenly he was leaning down, and I was tilting my head to capture his lips. Our mouths fastened with ease, kissing him had always come so simply to me, even that nerve-wracking first time. Why was everything else always so difficult, complicated by deceit? Soon, the kiss deepened, our mouths claimed and reclaimed each other urgently and our tiny moans and breaths became strained with need.

He took my hand and led me to his bedroom, pressing me flush to him and reconnecting our lips when we entered. My hands found his shoulders, my fingers digging into him and no doubt creasing his shirt. His own impatient, indecisive hands travelled my body as if he wanted his fingers to be covered in me, have my scent and the warmth of my skin buried beneath his fingernails. My eyes drifted open and spotted Heidi's blouse hanging on the closet door, guilt dropped into my stomach as weighty as a boulder.

Eric was pushing me forward, guiding me to his bed. But all I could envision was being driven to a precipice and thorns of panic and shame were waiting below to pierce me. For the first time his lips felt oppressive against my own. Were my own even moving? His hands usually so passionate now felt aggressive, mine were shaking, my fingers losing their grip and I knew I was going to fall. Would I be saving myself or would I land in that dreaded ravine anyway? My eyelids lifted once more and I saw a vanity table in my peripheral vision, with Heidi's make-up on it.

Before I could say anything I had landed on the mattress, soft and deep and perhaps I would leave a permanent dent here. I would forever be an insidious groove in a relationship that - to Heidi at least - had been smooth sailing since she was freakin' ten years old. Eric was on me now. So many times he had felt like the sweetest perfume that had ever graced my skin, the most cherished blanket that had ever wrapped around me. But on top of me now he felt as condemning as a coffin, trapping me for good. Buried alive and choking on the dirt along with the malignant weeds that would poison his beautiful garden someday. They were already doing so, methodically of course.

His lips pressed against my neck and I shuddered. They still felt exquisite, after all. His hands roamed up my sides, willing me to react but I couldn't bring myself to. I couldn't pretend anymore, I knew I couldn't. I craned my neck and there they were; Eric and Heidi's wedding photos on the nightstand. Did he really intend on fucking me with the reminder of his wedding day right next to him? Was I actually going to go through with this? The questions robbed me of breath.

"Eric…" I gasped.

Rookie mistake. He loved it when I called him by his first name, even now, when I never called him anything else. I had pointed that out to him once, and he told me it was different in bed. He moaned in response now, hot and wet on my neck.

"Eric," I groaned, begged, my chest heaving. "I-I can't, Eric… Eric! Get off!"

I shoved him off of me then, panting and shaking. I glanced at him and his stricken countenance forced me to look away. I never meant to hurt him.

"What the hell, Kyle!"

His wild, abrasive voice stirred me, clawed at what I had kept concealed and was now exposed and bleeding.

"This is so twisted!" I shouted, getting to my feet. "This is so fucking wrong I-" I ran a hand through my hair and tried to collect my breaths, my eyes darting around a room I didn't belong in. "Oh my God, I can't believe I'm doing this, what the hell has happened to me!"

"I have no fucking idea!" Eric snapped, standing up too. "What has happened to you!"

"This is your fault!" I cried, pointing an accusing finger at him. "This is all your fault!" I shook my head, snickered sardonically. "No… no… this is our fault! I knew I shouldn't have fucking come here… I knew… I knew I shouldn't have come to your wedding this – all of this is a huge mistake!"

The shock and the indignation drained from Eric's face, replaced instead by urgent realisation.

"You don't mean that," he said, shaking his head and stepping closer to me.

"I do!" I replied. "I do, this isn't acceptable, Eric!"

"Don't do this, Kyle," Eric's voice wavered, but he held my shoulders steady. "Don't make this out to be some sordid, meaningless affair, okay, when it's not. You know it's not, right? This is different, it's you and me, and we love each other-"

"God, of course I know that!" I exclaimed, shrugging away. "Don't you see that makes it so much worse?! It's more despicable, it's more painful than if we were just fucking for the hell of it!"

"God damn it, Kyle, what the fuck has gotten into you!" Eric cried. "Have you always felt this way!"

"No!" I shouted, before exhaling shakily. "I've just sort of realised it over time… how can you love Heidi and treat her this way?"

Eric's eyes widened and he scoffed. "She doesn't know! She never has to know! And since when did you care about her feelings!"

I blinked, could feel myself shrink into a hypocrisy that was bigger than me. "I-I-I always have!"

"Bullshit, Kyle!" Eric snapped. "You only cared about what would happen to us if we got caught! You only cared about having to deal with the guilt if this all went to crap! That's what you've always been afraid of!"

"Hey, I'm not the one cheating on my wife!"

"I'm not doing it maliciously! I'm not fucking hookers or people I barely know! I'm not doing it because I can!"

"So what? You're doing it because you have to!" I exclaimed incredulously. "Because you can't resist me? Or you have no choice? None of this was ever against your will, in fact, you were always pretty damn eager to fuck me!"

"That's not what – will you just let me finish?" He begged, face pinked and voice cracking. "I love you, okay! I love you, and I want to be with you! You asked me earlier why we keep coming back to one another, right? And it's because I don't want to live a life that you're not a part of!"

I frowned, panting, the empathy I had for him was overwhelming.

"But what about friendship?" I asked, desperate for compromise. "Why can't we just be satisfied with that?"

Eric rolled his eyes, scratched the nape of his neck.

"I think we figured out in high school that wasn't a possibility," he replied wryly.

I sighed. "It's pathetic… all of this is pathetic."

Eric nodded, mouth sealed shut.

"Maybe…" he mumbled.

I wrapped my arms around myself, braced myself for the words that had ran through my head a thousand times for years, that I had practiced saying at my most despairing moments.

"It has to end," I said. "For good, this time. We have to sensible, and fair, and fucking strong for once..."

Eric lifted his gleaming eyes to me, but I couldn't stare for too long. I'd cave otherwise, be blinded by my inexorable love for him.

"What does that mean?" He asked. "We're not going to see each other anymore?"

I didn't want that, just the notion seemed excruciating and impossible.

"No…" I exhaled, shaking my head.

He grabbed my shoulders again, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Then what?" He demanded, pleaded. "You're going to fucking bail on me like you did at prom?"

"No!" I exclaimed, and prised myself out of his grip again. "It means… I can't do this anymore, Eric. You may be fine with settling, but I can't pretend that I am. You need to make a decision, once and for all, no going back."

Before he could beg me, or kiss me, do anything that could persuade me to change my mind, I walked out of the bedroom and kept my gaze straight ahead.

"Kyle! Wait!"

I grabbed my jacket from the coat rack and reached for the door.

"Kyle, wait!" Eric repeated. He was behind me. I could sense his shadow even when I couldn't see it. "Please stay!"

Taking a deep, quiet breath, I closed my eyes and opened the door. But I turned around, opened my eyes, and Eric seemed stranded although we were inches away from each other.

"Think long and hard about your decision, Eric," I said, as firmly as I could. "It's one you're going to have to live with for the rest of your life."

I walked briskly down the corridor, my lips tightly pursed and my eyes heavy and burning with tears. My sobs had escaped by the time I reached the stairwell, in disbelief at the ultimatum I just dealt.

---

"The part that hurt the most was that… it made sense. All of what he was saying made sense. I knew what I was getting into when I kissed him, I knew when we started seeing each other that it wouldn't make him break up with her but that was supposed to be our day. And what we were doing wouldn't be wrong or shady or limited. I feel like I only get a piece of him, and she gets everything. It's not her fault, I know, and I shouldn't complain because I got myself into this but God, I was so willing that day to pretend she didn't exist, or that their relationship didn't exist, and would it have killed him to do the same?"

I buried my face in my hands once I had finished pouring my heart out to Kenny. I was sat at my desk while he was perched at the end of my bed. It had been nearly a week since my argument with Eric and when I made the decision to end this. A pleading whisper in the back of my head told me I could still salvage this, that we could work this out, that we just had to discuss this calmly and pick up where we left off but I was exhausted. I was tired of feeling so needy, so worthless, so guilty and jealous, patiently waiting for the next brilliant high, an afternoon spent together surreptitiously to blot out all the bad feelings. But what if – like any addict – I needed a sharper, stronger, more frequent rush? What if being deprived of Eric only exacerbated those horrid feelings? I knew they would eventually consume me, just as well as I knew I couldn't have him all the time, call him mine, be all his.

"Kyle…" Kenny finally spoke, his tone soothing but bruised. "Dude…"

I lifted my head, and it took a while for him to focus in my weary eyes. But when he was clear in vision I saw he was smiling sympathetically. His crooked smile was like a mending, golden seal on my heart. Kenny was the only person I told about me and Eric, I couldn't keep it to myself. I needed somebody to help me make sense of it all, to vent to when it all went wrong. Usually, Stan would have been my first choice for the role. But he would have just told me to end it immediately, because he would know it would never be a good idea, that I would only end up hurt. Stan was responsible, protective, where Kenny was passive and understanding. If he ever thought Eric and I were a bad idea he would never tell me. I would have to learn that on my own, the hard, devastating way. Despite my reasoning, I still felt bad that I was keeping such a huge secret from Stan when it had never been in our nature to keep things from each other. So many times when he had asked me, "what's up, dude?" I wanted to take him aside and confess everything. So I wouldn't feel so rotten and unnatural, so when I spent the Saturday night after my argument with Eric awake and numb, I could have called him and he would have talked me through my problems in that soothing, clarifying way he always does.

"I know," I sighed. My elbows were resting on the desk. I ran flustered fingers through my hair. "I'm sorry, it's silly."

"It's really not," Kenny replied. "I guess what you wanted - and what the reality of the situation was - didn't match up. And you're not the only person whose felt that way, trust me."

"Fantasy," I whispered to myself. "It was a fantasy."

I dreaded the classes Eric and I had together. He skipped a couple, I wanted to be mad that he was going to such extremes to avoid me but instead I was glad I didn't have to deal with the awkwardness. Really, I couldn't blame him. If I wasn't so concerned about my academic record I would have done the same. I thought about him all the time though, and it felt like mourning. But he was alive and so close and I was afraid that notion would eat away at my resolve.

"So… is it over between you two?" Kenny asked.

My answer caught in my throat.

"I guess," I nodded. "I think. For now at least- no, for good. It has to be."

"Are you sure?"

I rolled my eyes, not knowing what Kenny wanted from me. Did he want to test me? To dissuade me? But my frustration wasn't with him. It was with my ambivalence towards the whole situation. Right now it felt like what I knew I had to do, and what I wanted to do would never meet.

"Come on, I can't keep doing this," I replied, glancing at him wryly. "Even you know that."

Kenny smirked, before saying earnestly, "I just never wanted to lecture you."

"I know," I snickered. "And thanks, dude, I appreciate that."

Kenny smiled tightly at me. The conversation had slowed, and we could have talked about anything else but my thoughts only had one trajectory.

"At least the damage was minimal," I sighed. "Heidi didn't get hurt by all this, so that's a plus. They'll go to prom and graduate and probably get married within… come on, what do you think? I think four years."

Kenny shook his head, staring out of my bedroom window with a knowing, earnest look on his face that perturbed me. It caused the previous light-heartedness I had in my voice when I made the wager fizzle out. Years of wearing his parka had now made Kenny's uncovered face that much more an object of scrutiny, and to me his expressions were fascinating, always worth noting.

"Nah, see, I think they won't get married at all," he finally replied.

"You don't?"

"Nope…"

My eyes wandered the desk, wanting to know more about his prediction but not wanting to seem desperate. "You think they'll drift apart when they're in college?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "I just don't think they're right for each other and they'll figure it out eventually. They'll fall in love with someone else and it'll be over."

"If they're not married within four years I'll believe you."

Kenny glanced at me and laughed, shaking his head. He then readjusted his seating position so he was now sat with his knees crossed, leaning over to draw me in.

"So if they're going to prom together, who are you going with?" He asked, before wincing and reiterating. "I mean, I know you and him wouldn't have gone together anyway because-"

"I don't think I'm going anymore," I cut in, putting him out of his misery.

Kenny's eyes widened and he huffed. "What? You have to! Won't the student council have a fit if you don't go?"

"Yeah, but pissy remarks from them is better than being alone in the gym watching Eric and Heidi slow dance in that gorgeous fucking red dress she'll probably wear," I replied, before muttering, "if she'll wear anything at all…"

Kenny took a break from being incredulous to laugh and roll his eyes at my bitchy comment. We had agreed earlier that I was only allowed to make three of those a week and that was my first one.

"But you'll regret staying home and being bitter in your room more," he pointed out.

I frowned and fidgeted, averting the rather smug look on Kenny's face which was even more loathsome when I knew he was right.

"Come on, please, Kyle!"

"I don't even have a date!"

"I'll be your date!" Kenny grinned. "I haven't asked anyone yet. And I guarantee you'll have a great time because I'm going to dedicate that night to making you happy."

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it, and Kenny's offer was too kind to reject. I sighed.

"Fine, I'll go…"

"Yes!" Kenny cheered. "This is the start of you moving on, dude, I promise!"

I grinned weakly at him, but I knew going to prom with my friend wouldn't make me forget about Eric, or stop loving him. At this point, I was starting to wonder if anything would.

---

Normally, nothing could distract me from a looming deadline. Eric, as always, was the exception. We hadn't spoken to each other in four days, and although we had spent a decade apart from each other, getting through college, and building careers, having relationships, and planning weddings, just one conversation in a hotel ballroom planted the seeds for a habit, a craving, awakened an infatuation that had been eclipsed by responsibility, sobriety.

Four days of silence now, and I felt like I was teetering on a tightrope that seemed to stretch to eternity. The finishing point, solid, dizzying ground was compromise, friendship. A way to be in each other's lives that was platonic, painless. We would be deprived of each other in the way we truly wanted, yes, but we would be stronger people because of it, peaceful people… rational people. Was I really going to throw away his company, unravel our friendship that had been so tightly woven into the fabric of my life just because we couldn't be together in the same way he and Heidi were? Was I really that petulant and pathetic? I didn't like to think so.

A sharp, urgent knock at my door startled me out of my thoughts. One that had a familiar din, a once charming, secretive tempo. My stomach lurched, but my pounding, starving heart propelled me to the front door. I looked through the peephole, and Eric's unusual golden eyes seemed larger than ever, twinned, incandescent suns. I turned away immediately, my breaths rapid and shallow.

"Kyle? Kyle, I know you're in there. I could hear you coming to the door," Eric's voice drifted through the wood. He snickered, "I can see the shadows of your feet. Please, can I talk to you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and gulped.

"Depends," I answered. "What do you have to say to me?"

"God damn it, can I at least see your face?" He asked. "Come on, can't we do this properly?"

Sighing, I unlocked the door and opened it. He smiled when he saw me, relieved, and wide enough that it reached his gleaming, forlorn eyes. My heart creaked at the sight. It was always going to be the faultiest part of my reserve. I noticed a bag by his feet and froze.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Heidi kicked me out."

The words landed in my chest rather than my ears, a freshly cut vein where blood spilled rather than spurted. A network of crimson rivulets stretched out inside me, tingling, and freezing, and burning and enlivening each nerve.

"Why?" The word fell from my mouth, flat.

"I told her everything," Eric admitted. "I told her that I had been seeing you, and that I'm in love with you. "

"Y-y-you did?" I whispered, my voice fissured. My eyes stung. "What did she say?"

"She gave me a choice, like you did," Eric replied, ineffably calm, until a grin spread across his face. "And I chose you."

It wasn't just my ears, or my solar plexus that felt those words so keenly. My whole body was impacted, and those rivers erupted, making me tremble, rattling my heart and opening a spring in my eyes. Eric was grinning at me all the while, the affirming, content reminder that this was real.

"Can I come in now?" He asked.

I laughed and rolled my eyes, nodding because I would be welcoming his sarcastic questions, and his wicked smile, and his passionate embraces into my home and my life forever. Once he was inside, I threw my arms around him and pressed my lips to his. I felt my feet leave the floor when he clasped me in his own arms and held me flush to him, our kiss firm and deep.

"I love you so much, Kyle," he whispered.

"I love you too," I replied, not caring that my eyelashes were now damp with tears.

"This is it, Kyle, okay?" He was suddenly serious, eyes glittering and voice breaking. "We're doing this, and I won't fuck it up, I promise."

I just nodded, and kissed him before I could start sobbing in his embrace.

---

Kenny was true to his word, I was having a pretty good time at prom. It's incredible what a nice tux and an impressively decorated gym will do for your mood. Although some may find hordes of giggling, over-excited teenagers, pop songs blasting from a stereo, and tables covered in confetti repellent, I found it a bubbly, synthetic distraction. The music was loud enough to drown out any disheartening thoughts, and the gym was so crowded that perhaps Heidi and Eric would slip my notice. Though maybe the glittering veneer of the evening had made me a little too optimistic?

Kenny and I were sharing our table with Stan, Wendy, Token, and Nichole. Although, like the other couples, they were pretty mobile, having their photos taken and frequenting the area of the gym that was now a dancefloor. I didn't mind sitting at our deserted table when I had Kenny for entertainment. The amount of effort he was putting into keeping me smiling and laughing made me feel a little less alone on a night where everyone seemed to be paired off. It even dulled the inevitable sting of finally spotting Eric and Heidi. She was predictably gorgeous in her red dress, and my chest tightened and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of him in his tux. His hair was slick and though his posture wasn't perfect it was charming and commanding. Overall, they looked carefree and happy, and a part of me feared that any pang of longing I felt would be like some residual sourness on them. I didn't want that. So when Eric caught my eye I smiled awkwardly at him, and sighed in relief when he smiled back.

I became more and more relaxed as the night went on, my eyes finding Eric and Heidi on the dancefloor and not looking away. Perhaps it was unhealthy, perhaps I was torturing myself because I couldn't ignore the yawning ache in my heart, but I was smiling despite myself. His hair had fallen into his eyes, Heidi was laughing and he was playing up to her, while I pursed my lips in secret. Damn, he looked so goofy and yet so handsome, especially when the lights hit his grin just right.

A slow song melted from the speakers and it was if the crowd sighed, like this was what they had all been waiting for. I watched Eric and Heidi effortlessly slip into hold, it came so naturally; the way Eric's eyes slipped shut, his hands on her waist, her arms looped around his neck. And I could imagine their warm bodies meeting, the glistening words she'd whisper in his ear, the surge of that tender glow inside that has no name. I had to look away, to sever any inappropriate, voyeuristic connection I had felt to them.

"Wanna dance, dude?"

Puzzled, I looked at Kenny, casually waiting for his invitation to be accepted or declined.

"What?"

Kenny stood up and held out his hand.

"You haven't danced all night," he pointed out.

"Because I don't want to!" I laughed.

"You have to have at least one dance at prom!" Kenny whined. "Please?"

Rolling my eyes, I took Kenny's hand. What were my other options? Stewing in resentment and jealousy? Feeling sorry for myself as I watched couples glide on the dancefloor? Kenny grinned when we entered the throng of loved-up couples, and I ducked my head to hide my heated cheeks. I was suddenly pulled closer in a lax hold and smiled appreciatively at Kenny. My gaze wandered and too soon my eyes locked with Eric's. I lowered them, but every time I glanced at a stray balloon, a light, a sea of heads, I always managed to find him and, magnetic, his own eyes seemed to be drawn to me. My heart was pounding at the implications, weighted as it was. My eyes began to burn and the cheap lights and the stuffy gym and the crowd were unbearable, suffocating me. The weight of his gaze was pressing down on me, enveloping me, whatever still existed between us was invisible but palpable and destined to consume me.

Eric was looking at me like he had so much to say, like he believed he could articulate everything that was still so tangled and confused in a glance alone. I wanted to grab him, paw at him, lead him away and press him close and plead for his words and in my mind he was finally getting them out in one desperate, ragged breath. But I couldn't, we couldn't. We were bound, in very different ways. Then, as if to remind me, Heidi's hand reached up and touched his face. She must have noticed he was preoccupied, distracted, not totally immersed in her when he should be. Why should he be thinking about me? When he had her, beautiful and devoted? He blinked, then looked at her and smiled, as wide as a sunset. His eyes closed and their lips met. I squeezed my eyes shut and my tears landed on Kenny's shoulder.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I have to go…" I replied, wrenching myself out of Kenny's hold and walking away.

Of course he followed me, like any good friend would.

"Kyle, what's wrong?"

But I didn't want a friend right now. I wanted to find an empty room where I could dry my eyes.

"Nothing!" I snapped as I spun around, immediately wincing at my abruptness. "I…"

Kenny's eyes shone with concern.

"Are you crying?"

Gritting my teeth, I pressed my wrist to my eyes.

"Kenny, please, I have to go," I pleaded, already backing away. "Stay, have fun, alright? I'll talk to you later."

"You sure?" He asked, stepping forward. It was harder to breathe again.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Please, go!"

I could tell my words were ringing in his ears, discomfiting. He frowned, and nodded quietly.

"Alright…" he murmured, returning to our table.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered, rolling my eyes at the futility of it all.

I gritted my teeth again, my jaw aching now and the pain was a slight reprimand for my dickish behaviour… and perhaps for how foolish I had been all along. I stormed out of the gym, head bowed and when I reached the large double doors I shouldered them open. I gasped when I entered the cool, quiet hallway, my shoes squeaking against the polished floor as I marched past the rows of lockers. I could feel myself welling up again.

"Kyle!"

Eric. The echo sprinted down the corridor. I quickened my pace.

"Kyle, wait!" He continued, his footsteps behind mine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, go back inside," I replied, not turning around.

"I don't want to," he protested, catching up to me. "I want to talk to you. What the hell is going on?"

Fists clenched, shoulders squared, I spun around and Eric flinched, my eyes wide and startled. With my flushed face, my sore, indignant eyes, I must have looked wild to him. Perhaps I was, weak and desperate with my moral compass confused.

"Jesus, shouldn't you be getting back to your girlfriend!" I shouted. "She'll be wondering where you are…"

Eric huffed, indignant too. "Damn it, why do you always bring up Heidi in these situations!"

"Because she's the reason I'm having a fucking breakdown at prom!" I cried. "Actually, that's not true, you're the reason! And right now, I just want to be anywhere you're not!"

I thought I meant that, and I turned around with every intention of storming off, or marching, or running, or sprinting away from him without looking back and leaving this fucking disaster in my dust but instead I hesitated. I hung my head and my mouth fell open, totally clueless, directionless. My steps were slow, cautious, because I knew he was there, waiting for me.

He sighed, I heard his footsteps draw closer, and I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Kyle…"

"No!" I snapped, shrugging his hand away. "Fuck off!"

"Why are you acting like this, Kyle!"

When I turned around again, he looked just as wild, just as mad, just as exhausted.

"Because it's not fair!" I replied.

"What's not fair!"

I didn't know where to begin. But I remembered his golden eyes finding me in the crowd, her arms around his neck, their lips pressed together…

"That she gets to dance with you and I don't!"

Eric's face softened, his frown collapsing into an exasperated, wry smirk. "But you hate dancing…"

And I smiled and chuckled, despite the wetness in my voice.

"You know that's not the point…" I mumbled, suddenly shy.

Eric shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything else to say."

It was like that ruined Saturday all over again, when I was begging him for answers and he was clueless, speechless, torn.

"At least one thing's for sure…" he added, slowly closing the gap between us.

I sniffled. "What?"

"That this isn't over," he smiled, soft as a dream. "I thought you were done with me."

I shook my head.

"That's never going to happen," I replied, managing to ignore the slight pang in my chest when I admitted that out loud.

Eric stepped closer still, his smile vanished and his gaze was fixed on me. He was good at that, looking at you in a way that made you feel you were the only person on Earth worth noticing.

"I've missed you so much, Kyle," he confessed.

Wanting to be pulled further into his intent golden gaze, I stepped closer.

"I've missed you too," I whispered.

I felt familiar fingertips brush against my own and my brows furrowed. Before I could protest, Eric had taken my hand.

"Come on," he smiled, leading me away.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice edged with headiness. "Eric, I'm not fooling around with you here."

I pulled my hand from his grip, and he looked back at me as if I had brutally severed our intertwinement.

"That's not what- just trust me, Kyle, please?"

He held out his hand, and my remorse at jumping to conclusions made me take it. I was too embarrassed to talk, to ask where he was taking us, although the question nearly leapt from my mouth when we found ourselves backstage at the auditorium. The room was buried in darkness, and after a few minutes of fumbling, Eric managed to find one of the light switches. But even then the room was only dimly lit, crowded with shadows.

He had let go of my hand, and as I wandered and tried to adjust to the weak light, I suddenly felt his hands at my hips. He spun me around and all I could see was him, tall and smiling mischievously over me.

"Eric, come on, I meant what I said," I murmured, hazy from the close proximity to his smile, his glinting eyes, his wide, soft chest, not to mention the million possibilities this privacy offered us. It had only been a couple weeks of deprivation but I was shaking, a wreck.

"So did I," he replied, before lifting my arms so they were wrapped around his neck. He then placed his hands on my lower back.

"May I have this dance?" He asked with a smirk.

"But there's no music," I laughed, eyebrows furrowed, dizzy with surprise.

"We can pretend," he smiled lazily.

I choked on the realisation that's what we'd always been doing.

"Alright," I nodded, smiling too.

Pleased, Eric started humming a faint, familiar tune, prompting us to gently sway. Our gazes met and never broke, enthralled, content. I didn't know when we would stop, or how long we had been dancing for but I didn't want to say anything, didn't want anything to disrupt this night when the whole universe seemed to have slowed down. I rested my head on Eric's chest and he pulled me closer, soon I found his scent beneath Heidi's perfume and made an effort to retain it, when I never had before. Eric was still humming under his breath, and his arms moved up my back and gave me a soft squeeze.

I didn't comment when I felt him place a kiss in my hair.

"I love you too, you know," he murmured.

He said it as if the words were buried treasure, something I would only discover and recollect in years to come. Perhaps, in a time where they wouldn't matter, though such a notion seemed inconceivable. But instead I stiffened in his arms, his words reverberating through me and my heart pounding with every shuddering syllable.

I stared up at him, watched his eyes widen with my own.

"I love you," I whispered, I feared my throat would constrict. "I love you so much."

I was just as surprised as he clearly was.

"Woah," I grinned. "I never thought I'd say it out loud."

The shock dissipated from Eric's face, replaced with satisfaction.

"It sounds good," he remarked.

I nodded and chuckled. "Yeah, it does…"

"Say it again," he whispered, with the smallest of smiles.

"I love you," I happily offered. "I love you, Eric Cartman."

Eric beamed. "I love you too, Kyle Broflovski."

Our mouths met instinctively, before I could remind myself not to give into his pink, plush lips. But I vowed to myself to cherish his firm, warm clasp, to savour his taste that I could only distinguish as his, because this needed to be the last time.

"At least we got to say it once," I said, breathless, our mouths still so close.

"Huh?" Eric asked, pulling away.

"This is the last time, Eric," I said, with the slightest wobble in my voice. "It has to be."

Eric ducked his head and asked, "Why do you keep doing this?"

I sighed, "Because I'm trying to be sensible."

"Fuck being sensible!" Eric argued. "It's not what you want!"

"That's not important-"

"And what is important, huh?" Eric continued, eyes gleaming desperately. "We love each other!"

"But it's not- we can't just think about us!"

Eric furrowed his eyebrows. It seemed reality was slower in returning to his stubborn head. "What?"

"Heidi," I replied. "Whether she knows or not, Heidi is involved in this and she loves you too. And you love her."

Eric frowned, eyes searching the room for an answer. "Yeah, but-"

"No, Eric!" I interrupted, before smiling ruefully and reaching up to brush some hair from his brow. "She saw you first. She deserves to be with you, without me getting in the way. I can't be selfish."

He stared at me hard for a moment, trying to find a fault in my logic, a loophole where nobody would get hurt. But he eventually sighed and shook his head with a rueful smile to match mine.

"Can you, like, be wrong just once?" He asked. "Please?"

I laughed weakly, lowering my arm and placing it back at my side. I remembered running my hands through his hair and my heart creaked.

"But we'll still have to see each other," Eric pointed out. "In class, and around town, and… I can't cut you out forever."

"We'll figure it out," I tried to reassure him, though the thought of seeing him after tonight filled me with dread. "We have to be tough. Think you can handle that?"

Eric nodded reluctantly. We were both done fighting, pretending, trying to have it all.

"Okay…" I whispered.

"Can you handle that?"

I blinked, unsure of my answer. But I knew what I had to say.

"I'll try," I smiled.

Eric returned it thinly.

"You should get back to the gym," I said.

"Aren't you coming too?" He asked.

"No," I shook my head. "I think I'm gonna go home."

Eric sighed. "Kyle, you don't have to-"

"No, I want to," I cut in, before smiling knowingly at him. "I've had a great night. Thanks."

"So have I," he replied, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

We were still, both of us knowing that we were trying to snatch more seconds together. I wasn't sure if it was admirable or pathetic. My parting words bobbed in my throat, but my mouth was sealed stubbornly shut.

"See you, Eric," I finally said.

"Yeah," Eric nodded, I could hear his voice catch in his throat. "See you later."

Our arms brushed together as I walked past him, I prayed for my vision not to become blurred.

"Kyle, wait!"

"Yeah?" I asked. I had opened the door, and turning around I saw that the light from the hallway had washed over him.

"I know we need to keep our distance, and that this has to end but… I'll never forget it," Eric promised. "It was incredible - you're incredible – and… I love you."

I nodded, my eyes no doubt glimmering.

"I love you too, Eric," I replied. "Goodbye."

Despite all that I had said, despite what I felt was right, I was still disappointed when I had left the building and hadn't heard him call out for me.

---

"Kyle?"

Eric's voice drifted into my ears, accompanied by his fingertips brushing my cheek and I stirred. Grumbling, I opened my eyes and saw Eric wide awake and sharply dressed and leaning over my… our… bed.

"Yeah?" I replied, rubbing the grit away from my eyelids.

"I'm going to work now."

Damn. I sat up, cursing myself for sleeping through his alarm. I had hoped to wake up with him and convince him to stay at home, although feeling as languid and lazy as I did right now, I doubted whether it would have been a successful seduction.

"Really?" I asked, leaning on my elbows. "Do you have to go?"

"I'm afraid so," Eric sighed.

I caught his small smile and matched it with my own wicked smirk.

"What am I supposed to do with my day off?" I asked. "All on my own?"

Eric's eyes travelled downward, past the concealing sheets.

"You can stay in bed and think of me?" He suggested.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't hold your breath on that."

Although admittedly the smell of his cologne had excited my synapses more than any morning cup of coffee ever could, and even if he went to work I could always imagine a scenario where he hadn't.

Eric chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"I'll try to get off as early as I can," he promised. "And we can do something later if you want? How about a movie?"

"Sure," I smiled, thrilled that dates such as movie night had finally become a possibility for us.

Eric returned the smile, running his hand through my disarrayed curls before he left.

"Have a good day!" I called out after him.

"Thanks! You too!"

I heard the front door slam and checked the alarm clock on the nightstand. 8:00. I flopped back onto the sheets and reached for his pillow, cuddling it like a teddy bear. I grinned into the cotton, the smell of him pervading my nose.

~x~

It was midday, and I was sat in front of the TV, poised to check my emails before I heard a knock at the door. I abandoned whatever daytime talk show was entertaining itself to see who was there, not bothering to take a look through the peephole. Huge mistake. Although I suppose I couldn't turn her away.

It was Heidi, solemn and fidgety upon seeing me, a bag in her hand that she was gripping so hard her knuckles had paled bone-white. Immediately, memories of the following week surfaced. Eric, facing me after our huge fight, the ultimatum I had dealt him. Now I was facing the fallout of his decision.

"Heidi… I…"

"I just came to drop off the rest of Eric's stuff," she said, her words taut and clipped.

"Oh…" I whispered. "Thank you…"

I gently took the bag from her. Composed as she was trying to be, no doubt such composure hid a volatile emotional state. But not even the most cautious action could be performed unnoticed. Tears sprung to her pale green eyes, colour rising on her cheeks. I caught her tiny, shattered breath and couldn't help myself.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked. "Have some coffee?"

Her brows furrowed and she searched my eyes for reason. I had none, but at least the absurdity of it all was a mild distraction from the devastation she was feeling. That was a comfort.

"Okay," she nodded, petted the corners of her eyes. "Thank you."

She followed me into the apartment wordlessly, and while she perched herself on one of my kitchen stools I set about making coffee right away. She didn't attempt conversation - I imagined that whatever she wanted to say to me wouldn't be of a civil nature – but since I was the one who invited her in I figured it was my duty to initiate small talk anyway.

"So, uh, how's work-"

"We hadn't been married six months."

The loaded statement plummeted into my gut. I couldn't be a coward, I had to face her. Even if that meant all the horrid accusations and names in the world being hurled at me. I turned around and she was waiting for me. Her spine was rigid and her sparkling eyes were steady, making my heart shrink, ruthless in her precision.

"Kyle, I knew we were never close but… I always thought you were a decent person," she began. "I never thought you would be capable of doing something like this. You come across all moral, and righteous, and strong-willed… We're not friends, Kyle, but I at least thought that you liked me," her voice splintered then and she pursed her lips before continuing, "I thought you respected me as Eric's girlfriend. It never crossed my mind that you would want to hurt me-"

"I never meant to hurt you, Heidi."

"It's funny, Eric said the same thing."

"Because it's true," I implored, my hands resting on the table where she sat. "None of this was to hurt you."

Heidi shook her head. "You're not stupid, Kyle, neither is Eric. Were you really so naïve that you believed it wouldn't all come out in the open someday? That it wouldn't destroy me?"

"No…" I sighed. "Of course I'm not. But I love him, Heidi. I love him so much that it blinded me to everything else. It sounds callous, I know, but whenever I was with him, you were the last thing on my mind. Which is wrong, and selfish, I realise that, but I wanted him so much. I never thought I'd have the chance to be with him and when the opportunity was there… I just took it."

Heidi was nodding, but I hardly expected her to understand. Why would she even want to?

"It blinded you?" She asked derisively.

"Yes," I murmured, embarrassed by my confession.

"You wanna talk about blind? When we were fourteen Eric told me had been in love with you."

I had been looking at the table, but raised my eyes to her. She appeared smug, as if this piece of knowledge was a small victory. And if that was the case for her, I didn't know what it meant for me. I was not surprised that Eric had kept this secret so well concealed. He was good at pretending, especially in the interest of self-preservation. And I suppose it didn't matter now, when his love for me had been confirmed long ago, but what would have happened if I had known back then? Would I still have been stubborn and naïve? Or would it have inspired me to be brave and trusting? Would we have had more years to spend together with less people hurt along the way?

"He never told you that, huh?" Heidi continued. "I remember we were in my room and we would talk for hours until our throats were sore. I guess we had run out of stuff to talk about, and he just came out with it. He told me that when you and him used to hang out as kids, he had been in love with you. It seemed like he had been bottling it up for a while, because his words were so fast and abrupt. We didn't dwell on it, and I didn't let it bother me. I thought that maybe he was young and confused, that he had felt something else instead, something a little less huge. I figured it didn't matter anymore, because he loved me now. Clearly, I was wrong about that."

"No, you weren't, Heidi," I protested. "He's always loved you-"

"But not as much as he loves you, right?" She cut in, with a rueful snicker. "Or else why would I be here?"

I had no answer to that. Little did I know when I dealt my ultimatum that I had crystallised what was once ambiguous. It was no longer debatable, or negotiable anymore. Eric chose me, and we all understood what that meant, even if it was harder to accept. For Heidi, at least.

"I need to get back to the office," she muttered, before marching out of the kitchen.

"Heidi, wait!" I called out, following her.

I couldn't bear the thought of such dejection weighing her down. She had stopped, but had her back to me. I heard her sniffling, before she turned around.

"Yes?"

"I am so sorry for what I've done," I replied. "I can try to justify and defend my actions all I want, but I hurt you, I see that now. I can't do anything about it, but… you can believe I'm a bad guy all you want, and you can believe that Eric never loved you. But I can believe that you and Eric weren't meant to last. I believe that you were a fantastic girlfriend and wife, but you were with the wrong guy. You had my guy instead. And I am going to love him for the rest of my life, and do it right this time. Without anybody getting hurt."

Her eyes roamed my face, and she choked on a sob. I stepped forward, my arms barely lifted, an invitation to an embrace. Naturally, she declined.

"Thank you for your apology." Her voice was clipped and taut once more, but precarious too. "You take good care of him for me, alright? I know you will."

"Thanks," I smiled, ducking my head. "I'll try."

She pursed her lips and smiled tightly at me, before she left. Standing in the doorway, I watched her walk down the hall and vowed to keep my promise to her. I would love Eric with everything I had, and it would only inspire joy. Not deceit or suspicion, guilt or shame, pain and betrayal, but joy and contentment. And I believed in my promise, just like I believed everything else.