This is my first South Park fanfic. Wooh! Tell me how I did, no flames, criticism allowed. This is also my first slash story ever. Kyle x Cartman.
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He lied there on the ground. The rain fell around us. It was like a cliché movie scene, but I didn't feel like commenting on it now. Now wasn't the time. Maybe later.
At least it was raining. That way, nobody could see my tears and call me a pussy or whatever right now. Even though I know Stan and Kenny are bawling. With Stan it's more obvious. He is wailing like a baby over the lifeless body as we stand here.
A chill goes down my spine. The lifeless body. The one right here, lying in my arms, with that familiar face that I wished I'd never known. The one Stan is crying over. The one Kenny is staring at blankly.
For once Kenny wasn't the one to die.
Another cliché. But, like I said, now's not the time for that.
Stan sighs heavily and stands, turning away. He sniffling and Kenny finally breaks his gaze away from the dead body in my arms to comfort his other friend. I wanted to snicker or call them pussys or fags or something—anything. But the words wouldn't come out and instead I just shake my head. I'm still too shocked.
"C'mon, Stan. Let's go home…" Kenny mumbled, gripping Stan's shoulder tightly and leading him away from the sight.
Stan takes one last look back at the dead body and his eyes show blankness. He shares his gaze with me, then back to the body once again, before turning and stumbling after Kenny.
Once Stan and Kenny are gone, I look back down at the body in my arms. An overwhelming sadness comes over me and my invisible tears fall harder. To think, a few days ago, it would have seemed as though I was practically wishing for this to happen to him.
But I never truly thought that. Not ever.
I brush a lock of soaked red hair out of the deceased body's face and can't help but smile smally. I know he always knew how I felt about him. And I know he felt the same. It was like an unspoken truth between us. A link that even he and Stan didn't share. But we never spoke out thoughts out loud. I mean, come on, even I'm not that faggy.
He looks exactly like he's sleeping.
His eyes are closed, his skin has always been pale, and his face is filled with a nice, beautiful calm. The only thing that proves he really isn't sleeping is the fact his stomach won't rise and fall steadily.
It reminds me of the night I was forced to sleep over at his house…
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Kyle hid alongside his doorframe, waiting for a certain large boy to come walking in at any moment. It took his a lot of effort not to snicker excitedly.
Cartman walked in just as he had hoped. A towel was draped around his lower end and his hair was matted down with water. He stood in the doorway, peering around the small room, squinting through the darkness. Kyle held his breath.
Finally, Cartman went to switch on the light and Kyle had to move a bit in order to not be felt. As soon as that bedroom light turned on, Kyle jumped out from his hiding place and yelled.
"Booga!!" he yelled.
Cartman yelled, surprised like hell, and actually fell backwards. Kyle was second to fall on his back, laughing his hardest. By the time Cartman picked himself up and made his way over to the smaller boy to glare down at him, Kyle had tears streaming down his face from laughter.
"What the fuck, you stupid Jewfag!?" Cartman growled.
"You…should've seen…your face, fat…fatass!!" Kyle howled through his laughter.
Suddenly, Cartman let go of his towel—luckily, it was secured in place so nothing was set free—and grabbed the Jewish boy by the collar of his jacket, lifting him off the ground with surprising strength.
Kyle was silenced at this, but kept his smug little smirk. Cartman glared at him, his face mere inches from Kyle's. He could see the smaller boy panting from his laughing fit. His eyes were so full of laughter, and joy, and…life.
Whatever anger Cartman had felt immediately fled and he dropped the red-haired boy, grumbling, and they both got ready for bed in silence. Secretly, he had felt overjoyed that he was able to participate in making Kyle feel so happy.
While they shared a bed that night, Cartman turned to Kyle while the boy was sleeping soundly. He smiled as he watched Kyle sleep so peacefully. He brushed a stray red curl from his face as he studied him. His eyelids were closed gently, his mouth twisted into a sweet frown, his face serene, and, most importantly, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly to signify his life.
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That was only a couple of days ago. I hugged the dead boy tightly and let the tears fall even more freely. Goddammit. Why did it have to be him who had to die?
I sighed and stared at him a moment longer. Kissing his forehead, I carefully stood and gently lied his body down.
As I walked away, sneaking one last look, I wondered if I should scream my misery. Continue on with this cliché movie scene. Yell and curse the heavens for taking my love away from me. But I washed those thoughts away almost immediately.
It was best to let him sleep in peace.
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Erm, okay. So tell me what you think. You should know the point of views. The italics was a past memory (obviously) and that one was anyone's point of view.
Read and review!