South Park © Matt & Trey.
I wrote this a while ago, but forgot to post it. I'm also too lazy to change all the dates, heh…
I thought I'd post it now to make up for deleting my other story. It's back up, and I'm sorry for my little freak out.
When I dream, I dream of your lips
When I dream, I dream of your kiss
When I dream, I dream of your fists
Placebo
There are a lot of cliché sayings.
One of them is "there's a thin line between love and hate".
If you were to ask Eric Cartman if he agreed, he would probably dismiss you, or tell you to fuck off. Hell, maybe he'd even punch you in the face, but deep down he would have his answer. He wouldn't even need to contemplate it.
Eric Cartman would disagree. He would think to himself, 'If you love someone enough, you can also grow to hate them. If you hate someone enough, you can also grow to need them, and maybe that in itself is some sort of love.'
Another cliché saying is "you always hurt the one you love".
Now that one… That one Eric Cartman would agree with.
12 August 2012
Kyle likes to think that his anger gives him strength, and maybe, to an extent, it does. However, it's still not enough to win against Eric Cartman.
"Don't fight with him," Stan will always tell Kyle, because Eric Cartman changed a lot as he grew up. He got taller, sure, and stronger, but at the same time he became even more psychotic, if one can imagine. He also has a mean set of fists. Kyle used to have the upper hand until the time they reached their junior year.
Eric beat the hell out of Kyle a few times already by the time they reached high school and Kyle had become accustomed to feeling Cartman's knuckles crack across his face.
"Kyle," Stan said in a somewhat pitying tone as he walked through the door, coming face-to-face with his angry and bruised super best friend.
"Don't give me that, Stan," Kyle croaked weakly in his bandaged state.
"You shouldn't be fighting him."
"What the fuck am I supposed to do then?" the angry redhead shrieked at Stan from the hospital bed, "let him kick my ass and badmouth me?"
"Calm down," Stan warned before shrugging, "Naw, I guess I can't really tell you to sit back and take it."
"I'm not going to be submissive toward Cartman. I'd rather him beat the shit out of me every day than submit to him!"
Stan sighed audibly, but at the same time he couldn't really blame Kyle. If he were in his position, he would be doing the exact same thing.
"You're lucky you're alive, dude."
"I know," Kyle frowned, ghosting his bandaged hand across his bruised face.
"You're lucky he stopped when he did."
"I know!"
Never before had one of his fights with Eric Cartman been this bad.
"What did the doctors say?" Stan asked.
"He said internal bleeding, shattered ribs, fractured wrist, concussion," Kyle sighed as the list went on. "It hurts to fucking breathe, let alone move."
"Dude… then maybe we shouldn't be talking right now… let alone be getting all worked up. You might bust something."
Kyle grumbled.
"I'll come visit you again soon, yeah?" Stan said.
"Yeah."
"It's bothering you," Kenny said, noting Eric's inner distress.
"What're you talking about?" he asked gruffly.
"What you did to Kyle," Kenny specified, "You went too far and it's bothering you."
"Wha- No it's not," Eric spat, "Why the hell would I care what happens to the damn Jew? If anything, I'm proud. Maybe not the fucking ginger-fag will learn his place."
Kenny grinned. "It's best not to lie to me, you know. It won't do you any good."
Eric sighed, mainly out of annoyance. "I don't usually lose control like that."
"I know," Kenny supplied, "it's just around Kyle."
"For some damned reason…"
"I think you know why."
Eric gave Kenny an extremely dry look, "No."
"Yes."
"Don't say it – Don't you fucking say it."
"If you won't say it, I'm gonna have to say it."
Eric rolled his eyes.
"You like him," Kenny said.
"No, I like seeing him in pain and inflicting pain on him."
"You can like both those things while being attracted to him at the same time."
Eric let out a sharp laugh.
"Don't deny it."
Eric sobered, letting out another defeated sounding sigh.
"It makes sense."
"How?" Eric grimaced.
"You always had this weird fixation with him. It's like you need him. It got worse as we grew up and I began to piece things together. I think that is just how you express yourself."
Eric snorted.
"Well, you know what they say," Kenny shrugged, "There's a fine line between love and hate, right?"
"No, there isn't," Eric mumbled, "There isn't a line at all…"
The blond smiled, "At least you're admitting that much."
20 April 2013
Everyone was getting incredibly tired of the fights.
The two boys are like oil and water, so who could be blamed? At the same time, no one wanted to get in the way of the clash.
The fighting continued after Kyle left the hospital, yet Eric made sure to try his hardest to control his temper. He wasn't going to slip up again; however it proved to be difficult. Everything was difficult when it came to the damn Jew.
Somewhere along the road, Jimmy had come up with the brilliant idea to lock Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski in the school locker room together. He said it has worked for him in the past, so maybe it would work again. "Lockdowns are always the answer," he had insisted.
Everyone should have known that this case was different. It was different because Eric Cartman is on a whole other level than the Crips and the Bloods. In ways, he's worse. He can get into people's heads. He can figure out what a person fears and use it against them. He's twisted.
This was not necessarily going to be a clever way to sort out their problem. Instead, it acted as a spinning wheel of disgusting possibilities.
Jimmy, Stan, Kenny, and the rest of the guys all went to KFC, leaving the two schoolyard enemies alone to sort out their differences.
"Cartman," Kyle reasoned, sounding incredibly irritated. "let's just find a way out of here."
"This is your fucking fault, Jew," Eric snapped, "If you weren't constantly whining to everyone about me then we wouldn't be locked in here."
"Shut up!" Kyle said, flushing down a storm of supressed anger.
"Make me," Eric challenged, cracking his knuckles.
The redhead let out a sound of anger before launching himself at Eric with busy fists.
Eric grunted, grabbing Kyle's wrists before he could hand another punch. "Fucking ginger," he growled, giving Kyle a rough shove and knocking him onto the tiled floor.
Kyle delivered a hard kick to Eric's shins, eliciting a loud shout from the larger male.
"Fucking hell, Kahl!" he yelled. "You're really asking to go back to the hospital, aren't you?"
Kyle stood up, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fuck you, Cartman," he whispered, voice shaking with anger.
Eric moved forward, wrapping his fingers around Kyle's thin neck and pressing him against the lockers.
"I hate you," Kyle swallowed audibly, his throat moving against Eric's hand.
"Yeah, I know you do."
"Are you going to kill me this time?" Kyle asked, digging his nails into Eric's strong fingers.
Eric looked into Kyle's wet, angry eyes and almost loosened his grip immediately. "Kahl…" he said, pausing.
And that is when the dam broke, welcoming an onslaught of emotions that would drown them both.
25 April 2013
"Kyle, talk," Stan said, standing next to Kenny, who had his arms crossed. It was an intervention, Kyle could tell. They've been pestering him about what went down in the locker room since the two of them walked out of there, bruised and stunned, in complete physical and mental disarray.
Neither Cartman nor Kyle would open their mouth about it.
"I thought you guys were coming over for math help?" Kyle frowned from his seat at his desk.
"Well, that, too," Kenny said, "But there are more important things at hand, clearly."
"Kyle," Stan cut in, "What the fuck happened?"
"Son of a bitch." Kyle let out a quiet laugh, rubbing his face in his hands. "We fucked," he said bluntly. He knew they weren't going to leave until he said it.
"What?" Stan's eyes grew immense. "Was it…?"
"Consensual? Yes." Kyle sighed, resting his elbow on the table and sitting his chin in his hand. "I've never really thought about doing things like that," he admitted, "least of all with Cartman, but that's what happened. Maybe there's another reason for calling it hate sex apart from it being with the person you hate. The person I hate more than Cartman right now is myself."
"Trust me, dude, I've been there," Kenny ruffles Kyle's hair. "You'll get over it."
"Maybe…"
Stan frowned, "We're really sorry, Kyle… That… That wasn't supposed to happen."
"It was disgusting and violent, but at the same time it was filled with so much emotion. It was different than anything I've experienced before and it's a feeling I can see myself growing addicted to; though, the thought scares the fucking hell out of me."
"I'm sorry," Stan repeated.
Kyle shook his head, "It isn't your fault. All you guys did was lock the doors."
"It makes sense," Kenny cut in.
"How?" the redhead mumbled, sounding thoroughly miserable. He lost his virginity to someone he was constantly claiming to hate. Cartman wasn't a virgin – knowing that made Kyle feel even worse about the entire event, though he wasn't sure why.
"I mean… when we were younger he was so goddamn determined to get you to suck his balls," Kenny laughed, "It was weird."
"Ugh," Kyle grimaced, "Well, I did a lot more than that…"
Kenny snickered.
"Why Cartman…?" Kyle groaned, leaning down and hitting his forehead against the desk.
"Cartman riles you up and gets you heated," Kenny explained. "He makes you feel strong emotions – anger, hatred, and sometimes sadness, too."
"He's just so… awful."
"He's bad," Kenny agreed, "but not as bad as everyone thinks."
Kyle let out a sharp laugh, lifting his head.
"Do you know why he wants to be a millionaire?" Kenny asked.
"So he can spend money on pointless things?" Kyle suggested, recalling the amusement park he wasn't allowed to go to, and the burger joint fetus fiasco.
Kenny shook his head, "It's so his mom won't have to do the things she does anymore. He loves his mom."
Kyle frowned. Of course it was the town's common knowledge that Liane was a prostitute. It is something Cartman is very sensitive about. He wants the best for his mother, anyone can see that.
"That's… oddly altruistic," Kyle had to admit.
"Isn't this a little bit like what happened to Token and Nichole… apart from being a hell of a lot more violent? I guess everyone forgot about that event, otherwise maybe we would have decided against locking you to in there together… but it's kind of ironic, isn't it? This is like… your just desserts," Kenny laughed later on in the day, glancing over at Eric. He made it his personal responsibility to make rounds, making sure both Kyle and Eric were going to be okay.
Kyle was embarrassed, while Eric was angry. Kenny could tell as soon as he saw him that he wasn't going to be fun to deal with.
"Fuck off, you piss-poor bastard."
"Touchy today, aren't we?" Kenny sighed.
With more intent, Eric repeated, "Fuck. Off."
"Tsk, tsk."
"I mean it, Kinny. I'm not in the mood."
"Fine," Kenny shrugged, "But do everyone a favor."
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"Because you'll be getting something out of it."
Eric paused, seeming to consider the option. "What is it?" he asked.
"Go visit Kyle."
Eric made a face. "Why?"
"Because you need to see him, he needs to see you and it will give everyone else some peace of mind."
30 April 2013
"Is Kyle home?" Eric asked, standing somewhat uncomfortably on the front porch of the Broflovski residence.
"He's grounded," Sheila said distastefully eying the formerly obese town psychopath. That was the worst excuse ever. Kyle didn't get grounded. Kyle was the perfect child and Eric knew she was lying. He knew the fat bitch simply wanted to protect her darling boy from further violence. However, he didn't try to convince her to let him in. He simply nodded, and began to turn away; however, he wasn't going to give up that easily. Rather than walking down the Broflovski driveway and making his way home, he made a sharp turn around to the back of the house.
Sure enough, the light in Kyle's room was on.
Eric climbed the tree nearest to the redhead's window and looked inside. He felt like he was reliving his childhood – spying on Kyle through his window. Ah, who was he kidding? He did this just the other week.
Kyle was in his room, sitting at his desk in his pajamas and leafing through what looked like a large statistics textbook. Eric could see the bruises around his pale neck, and the sickest part of Eric was glad about that. The sickest part of him was happy that Kyle is forced to think about him each time he looks in a mirror. He also found himself wondering if the bite mark he gave the redhead was still prominent on his collarbone.
Eric reached toward the window and gave it a couple taps, watching Kyle's shoulders jump in surprise before he looked toward the cause of the sound.
The expression on Kyle's face was almost comedic, and if Eric wasn't so damn anxious he might have laughed. However, he would never admit to being nervous, especially not when it was over something concerning that damn Jew.
Kyle's lips parted slightly and he looked somewhat frightened. Part of Eric expected him to run right out of the room; however he didn't. He just stood still for what felt like a long time until finally standing up and taking tentative steps towards the window.
"Sup, Jew?" Eric said after Kyle unlocked the window and opened it a crack.
"What do you want?" the redhead asked quietly, looking to the side and refusing to meet Eric eye-to-eye.
"Can I come in?"
Kyle frowned. "Why?"
"I need to say something."
"Promise we're just going to talk this time?" Kyle asked somewhat bitterly.
"Yeah, whatever."
Kyle swung the window open wider, allowing Eric to step into his room and onto his bed.
"And be quiet," Kyle warned, "my parents are downstairs and if they see you…"
"Yeah, got it," he said, glancing over at Kyle.
Kyle's cheeks turned pink and he looked away, avoiding Eric's gaze.
Eric smirked. So maybe he had a chance.
15 May 2013
"It's tolerable… At least he isn't making up songs about how much of a bitch my mom is lately."
Stan frowns, "Dude…"
"It's okay," Kyle says, lifting his head. "Things will be different. I know we will fight and yell. I will hit him sometimes, and when I do he will probably hit back."
"Are you okay with that?" Stan asks.
"I kind of have to be."
"You don't have to be anything, Kyle."
"Stan… for some reason, I want this," he says, "I feel like… as messed up as it sounds, he is the most exciting thing I have going for me."
Stan forced a smile. "It still sounds wrong to me, but if this is what you want, then I know I can't do anything to change your mind."
"Thanks, Stan."
"Sure, Kyle."
26 May 2013
"Faggot!"
"Fat-tits!"
"Jew!"
"Retard!"
"Ginger!"
"Lard-ass!"
"Fire-crotch!"
"Ah, normalcy," Stan sighed as he joined Kenny at the lunch table while Kyle and Cartman were in the midst of yet another argument.
"They'll kiss and make up later on," Kenny supplied to Stan as the other boys continued name-calling.
"Isn't that the way it always goes?" Stan asked.
"Yeah," Kenny nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"Am I the only one who finds it fucking weird as hell?"
The blond shrugged. "Maybe they need all that hate for the sex to be as good as it is."
"Gross," Stan grimaced. "It's so fucking weird seeing hickeys all over Kyle and knowing who they're from. Hickeys, and then the other bruises."
"It is weird," Kenny admits, "But I guess that's just how they communicate with one another."
But he had noticed something as time passed. Though the name-calling and arguing continued, it didn't hold the same amount of malice it used to.
27 May 2013
Eric pulled out of Kyle, collapsing next to him so they were side-by-side.
"So good…" the smaller male mumbled.
Eric laughed, turning to face Kyle. "Not bad yourself, Jew."
Kyle's lips quirked upward as he shut his eyes, and Eric couldn't help but admire that face. Not that he'd ever say it out loud, but it was a damn beautiful face.
As if reading his thoughts, Kyle's smile widened slightly and his naked frame inched closer to Eric's.
"You always sleep right after we're done. You have no stamina."
"Shut up."
Sure, they'd probably fight again tomorrow, but if making up would always be this fucking sweet then Eric wouldn't complain.