Title – The Colour of My Bruises Are?

Summary – Kip's rather sudden reappearance in South Park starts a wave of unsettling events for Kenny and Kyle. Kyle tries not to let his superstitions get to him, but the foreboding aura Kip permeates isn't as bizarre, but perhaps more uncanny and threatening then firstly assumed. K2. One sided! Kip x Kyle.

This is a story that I have been thinking and writing about for a while now, I love stories that are a bit suspenseful and violent, and all the other long stories that I try to start all follow a similar theme. So yes, there will be rape, violenceand maybe some gory moments in later scenes. So please do not read this if it will make you uncomfortable. If you want to read this but not the bad parts, I leave warnings at the beginning of each chapter, so if you don't want to read the bad bit but want to know what happened within the chapter PM me and I will give you a gist.

There is probably going to be sex scenes in every chapter, which is not a promise or commitment but probably something that is gonna happen.

Please, R&R and tell me what you think. I want to add in some filler chapters so if you have anything you'd want to read, tell me and I'll try and add them all in.

(btw the Spanish in this was used with a translator, if u speak Spanish and what ive put is fuckin wrong, tell me pls!)

I give out spoilers £20 apiece.

Enjoy x

.

Chapter One – Nostalgic Orange.

The echo of sirens blur into the high whine of a blistering white noise that penetrates and deafens Kyle's hearing, leaving him heedless to the yowls of those around him. A blistering, unbearable pain blossoms with the noise that lives him spinning, jarring.

He feels the bullet nestled within him, snuggled in a cocoon of his flesh. It hums and pulses, sizzling as it looses momentum. He's not sure if it's the pain or adrenaline that catches him first. But once his mind has finally caught up to his pain and horror; he screeches. His body curls and spasms. The unbelievable urge to vomit and cry are excruciating and Kyle wonders for a passing moment which one he'll excrete first.

Kenny gapes at him with his wide, wounded puppy eyes, terrified and astonished, his hands quivering. He's crying too. Kyle quakes; feeble and restrained. His hands tremble too; ensnared firmly behind him, frantic and desperate to grasp at the wound and envelop his fingers over it. He wails, his body shivering at the sudden temperature drop.

Around him resonates a similar wail, yet softer and more merciless. It's mixed with a sadistic laughter which hits Kyle deeper than the bullet.

Kyle begins to loose concept and meanings. Everything's beginning to blur and nothing is making sense. What colour are his eyes? When's his brother's birthday? What's Kenny's middle name? The white noise intensifies with the merciless hummer. A frenzy of movement occurs around him, everything blurs into a stable white noise. He feels himself falling, sinking, everything begins to fade and all Kyle wants to do is sleep.

Rest.

.

The snow falls in thick, luscious clumps that catch and accumulate in the fringe of Kyle's exposed hair and on the fabric of his clothes. The snow dances as it descends, fluttering in a slight diagonal fashion due to the gentle gush of thin mountain wind, which leaves Kyle feeling breathless. He struggles to bring a gloved hand up to his scarf under the heavy layering of clothing and brush off the opposing snowflakes which have gathered there. He huffs as he does so, his feet dragging as he enters the library. He spends a moment gently scrapping the snow from himself and stomping the clumps of compressed snow from his feet. He hums slightly to himself as he does so, sniffing against his cold, runny nose; enjoying the sudden flux of warmth from the building.

Once inside, he hangs his coat and scarf on one of the provided coat hangers neighbouring the entrance. His fingers trail along the spines of books as he circles the fiction area, eyeing the tattered books with a deep interest. He delicately prizes them from their hold within the bookshelf to read the blurb, turning them several times in his hands, inspecting them. He does this with many he's intrigued by, running his fingers along the front cover, sometimes opening the book and reading the first paragraph. He catches himself eyeing a few war time books and shakes his head to himself, he can barely think about WW2 after finding out about his Father's Grandmother being in the Holocaust, let alone read a story about it.

To his side, a few paces stands another man that looks roughly Kyle's age. He too is inspecting the vast collection of books the library offers, holding a book with gangly fingers, flicking through the first few pages. Kyle ponders who he is, there's something about his brunet, shoulder length hair that holds an unflattering, frizzy curl and teeth that catch Kyle like a wave of nameless and indefinite nostalgia.

There's something about him that keeps Kyle stomach in knots; there is a cold foreboding feeling about this that fills his veins with a poisonous liquid that saps the content out of Kyle and replaces it with unrest. And, although Kyle can't place where it's coming from, his anxieties flare and his skin prickles when he notices the other glancing at him from the corner of his eye. South Park as small as it is, everyone knows each other, or at least knows of each other and Kyle cannot place this figure. He tries to think that this is the reason for his anxiousness but he can't help but wonder if it's something more.

He replaces the book he's holding with a quiet sigh, he feels like he is working himself up over something insignificant, yet he can't help but steal a glance at the stranger next to him only to confirm that he is starring at Kyle again past his long wavy locks.

"Do I know you?" Kyle asks suddenly, hoping that he's unrest will settle and calm once he knows who the stranger is. His words come of sounding more apathetic and ruder than he had anticipated. He watches the other flinch at the violation of words and look at Kyle with unease. He has a face that states 'Who? Me?' as he looks at Kyle with wide brown eyes.

"Uh," He starts, nodding slowly as if he's turning the words over in his head, inspecting them for a deeper meaning. "Y-yeah, I'm Kip." He says his own name like he's not certain of it and although the name rings a bell, Kyle still can't place his relation with this boy, "Drordy." He adds. "Y-you were my first friend."

Everything connects and Kyle realises that this is the third grader who didn't have any friends on Facebook and Kyle took pity and added him. "I thought so," Kyle says although he didn't. He's never met Kip in person – he only ever skimmed through his Facebook photos once – yet he is overwhelmed by Kip's height and size. He is slightly overweight and pudgy, and he seems to grow taller the more you looked to him. He has round red cheeks that droop at the sides of his chin, pulling his mouth downwards and making him look dopey and emotionless.

Kip rubs the back of his neck and smiles nervously, "Yeah, I left South Park for a while – I just came back the other month actually." He mentions, as if this new source of information will help Kyle build his memory on the boy (not that there's a lot to remember).

"Ah, OK." Kyle replies, turning back to the bookshelf and inspecting 'The Lord of The Rings' trilogy, he picks up 'The fellowship of The Ring', he hasn't read the book in years and if he reads them quickly enough, he could convince Kenny to rewatch the films with him before Kyle loses interest. He remembers Butters acting crazy over it and humping Kyle in a frenzy. He resolves to gather the remaining two books and shuffle to the checkout, feeling giddy over the paper bags the employee gives him.

When he returns to grab his coat, he notices Kip scrutinising him again, this time no longer holding a book. Kyle wonders if it's Kip's haziness and ambiguity or his general demeanour that puts Kyle on edge. He tries to ignore the bubbling unease that simmers within him again and strut confidently to his coat and scarf. He shrugs it on, ignoring the dampness of his scarf as he adjusts it around his neck.

Outside the snow is still as persistent, the fluffy, cloud like substance jitters as it falls, the wind blows it towards Kyle and it stings when the snow touches him. Kyle pulls at the ear flaps of his hat, ensuring that it covers much of his ears and neck as possible, before doing the same with the scarf.

"Kyle," A voice calls from behind him, Kyle turns to find Kip there, heaving and looking flushed. He doesn't beckon Kyle towards him, instead running further out in the heavy snow to try and catch up with the smaller, he's panting when he reaches him and Kyle can see through his thick hair that he's ears are bright red. He looks cold.

"Uh, yeah?" Kyle replies, confused and curious.

"I-" he gives himself a moment to breath out, "I haven't been here so long, I don't know what's happened since I've left, and-" He breathes in then out again, hurriedly. "And, I was hoping you and I could meet up and you could – you know – could fill me in. Um. On everything that's happened."

Although Kyle feels weary of the younger, he knows that Kip couldn't do him any harm, the boy looks like he can barely run a mile let alone finish a fight. "Sure." He says, wondering if this will affect him time with Kenny. "Do you know any places that we could meet up?" He tries, maybe, he thinks, maybe he won't know anywhere.

"Casa Bonita."

"The Disney Land of Mexican restaurants?"

"What?"

"No, Casa Bonita it is." Kyle dismisses, annoyed that it had to be somewhere so expensive.

"Uh, tonight?" He enquires, his voice hopeful and expectant.

"At eight." Kyle comfims, tonight means that he'll have to cut Kenny short, but at least he'll get this date thing out of the way before he completely discharges it in his mind. "Bye," Kyle waves, feeling intoxicated by Kip's overbearing presence. "See you later." He adds before completely turning away from Kip and into the mouth of the storm.

.

"Ah!-fuckin-"

Kenny's mouth is attached to Kyle's skin, rarely unlatching from the smaller's flush flesh as he sucks and laps at it, enjoying Kyle's heated, hiccupping breath as it wobbly glides over Kenny's exposed neck and draws the hairs onto their ends. His fingers clench into Kenny's shoulder blade and his body quakes under Kenny's touch. Kenny enjoys the gentle tremor of the other, he likes that he was the one to cause this. Kyle lets out a quiet whimper, fingers tangling into the fabric of Kenny's coat; twisting and clasping at the fabric like a new born.

Kenny's hands retreat from Kyle's dick to run across his splayed thighs that that encase and trap Kenny to driver's seat. Kyle is hung over the steering wheel, his face burning and buried within Kenny's hair. He whimpers repeatedly and groans when Kenny's fingers depart and leave him breathlessly waiting for more, greedily and impatiently anticipating Kenny's next touch.

Kenny loves this look Kyle holds when he's close and enjoys drawing Kyle out just to prolong the euphoria edged over his body. His fingers trail over the skin of Kyle's thighs, freshly shaved from Kyle's fear of body hair and doused in a light blanket of sweat that has been brought on by the erotica of the pair.

"Fucking,"Kyle whimpers again, breathless and relentless as Kenny probes him again with both his middle and ring finger, he slips in his index when Kyle's rough grunts begin to soften in to sighing moans that slip from his lips and ghost over Kenny's skin in a sullen dance. Kyle's trembling is a clear indicator of his current standing, and when he moves his face to Kenny's neck, the tickle of his hair and the wisps of his breath bring forth a second wave of pleasure within Kenny who is still reeling from his recent orgasm.

Kyle shudders and Kenny can feel him tighten around his fingers, he moans lightly and pushes his body to meet Kenny's mouth that's still nibbling at his skin. They pull away as a pleasured expression washes over Kyle's face. Eyes closed but mouth open. He doesn't moan whilst in orgasm, but before and after.

After Kyle settles, Kenny wipes his fingers along the others thighs again and smiles adoringly up at him. God, he thinks, I'm so unworthy.

.

They last twenty minutes like that, laying half naked and exposed together in Kenny's car, wondering if anyone can see them, and wondering if they care. Kyle's so close to sleep that it's excruciating and he wonders why his body won't just shut off. A nameless thought appears before him, wrapping him in a shadowy recollection of nostalgia. It brews and simmers within him thoughtlessly, brushing against his gut and beckoning it to remember. Kyle spends a mindless moment staring into the abyss of his daydream, trying to locate his promises and conversations. He brightens from his thoughts with a sudden recall to his situation.

"Shit!" He squeaks, jolting backwards away from Kenny into the steering wheel and setting it off. The commotion causes Kenny to wake with a panic, his jittering movement causes them to collide and Kyle tries to prevent his wheezing when Kenny accidently head butts him in the stomach. Leaning back causes the horn to sound again, so Kyle hovers awkwardly between the wheel and Kenny whilst he regains his breath.

They collectively groan after, before giggling together, Kenny's mismatched brown and blue eyes cause the other to falter. Only when replaced with Kip's dopey, brown eyes does Kyle rouse from his trance. He groans and struggles to situate himself in the passenger's seat again, his discarded jeans are collected from the car's foot well and Kenny's sits bemused watching Kyle struggle to redress himself.

"Plans?" Kenny asks, the scruffiness of his clothes are the only give away to their recent acts and Kyle tries to replicate Kenny's coolness with his own.

"Yeah, take me to Casa Bonita, will you?" He mumbles, briefly pausing zipping his jeans up to glance at Kenny. "Do I look like I just got fingered?" He asks cheekily, smirking at Kenny with a coy, playful smile.

"Yeah, wanna look like you've just been fucked instead?"

.

Casa Bonita is overwhelming: it's rich, spicy smell, fragmented with the drizzle of the waterfall, presented at the back of the supreme diner; the many attractions scattered around the perimeter of the large entrance, decorated in vivid, spectacular and gawking colours and a continual theme of the old west; red and yellow hues run throughout the walls, giving a warm, tinted atmosphere; all staff wear overbearing sombreros and talk with crisp, Mexican accents – they repeat orders in Spanish and nod excessively during them; tables are decorated with a umbrella and tablecloth, orange tassels drape off the ends of the square cloth, completing the complex patterns on it. It's a cluster of colours and design, which work and amalgamate with each other faultlessly.

Kyle's nerves begin to ascend during the car journey, he finds himself vocally expressing his anxiousness through a constant analysis of his current understanding and feelings of Kip – the nostalgia and confusion, his creepily buoyant, jaunty and enthusiastic behaviour – following Kyle out into the snow, staring at him from under his hair, the faint awareness that Kip wasn't there for the books. It's surreal that Kyle is exposing himself to this man again, his demeanour spiked Kyle's apprehension and Kyle is fluxed with unrest and a disquiet aggravation. Why is he doing this again? Oh yeah, because he promised.

Now here, Kip hovering attentively by his side, mentioning his reservation with a stutter and a certain dizziness to his voice Kyle can't place, Kyle feels out of place. His body sways and Kyle's wonders if Kip is nervous too, he sure looks it: his foot taps on irregular beats, out of time to the live band that plays a traditional, Mexican instrumental; he gnaws on his bottom lip, irritating it until it becomes red and succulent from spit. The two stand out and Kyle hopes that he has put enough distance between the them to not cause too much gossip, but the reservation and the waitress' inquisitive eyes tell him differently.

"Sígueme." The waitress says in Spanish, hollering them with the menu and stalking towards an empty bay. She indicates the table and waits for them to situate themselves before handing them the menus. "¿Qué le gusta beber? What would you like to drink?" She asks again in English. Her smile is plastic and unwavering, she nods whilst the boys order, then leaves after repeating them in both Spanish and English for confirmation.

"I didn't think you'd actually come, you know." Kip starts, "I got so worried because you seemed taken aback I thought I had scared you." He gives an awkward, apologetic smile; rubbing the back of his neck to emphases. "I mean, it was probably in bad taste to ask a stranger out like that." He continues, smiling. "It's just everything's been really rough lately and I've only just returned to South Park. That's not really an excuse though. I'm sorry. It's just, you were the only person there for me at one point – I felt seriously alone and you changed that, thank yo- fuck! Sorry, I need to stop coming straight out with the sentimental shit." He apologises again, and suddenly Kyle is at a loss of words and emotions. He had originally thought Kip was something else entirely and yet before him sits nothing like the socially awkward, unstable, manic that he had depicted.

"Its fine," Kyle responds, "Man, that seriously sucks- but yeah, I'm glad eight year old me helped, even if it was for a little while."

"Yeah, thanks." He blushes, whispering the words in an embarrassed spit. "You haven't changed much from what I remember anyway. I think that's why I recognised you. But then again, no one really changes here."

"Yeah, it's like we've chosen clothes and matched are lives around them." Kyle laughs, indicating his clothes and the present orange and green items that he garments. "Plus, puberty only helped me in becoming hairy. Everywhere." He continues, motioning parts of his body that are the most difficult to shave.

"I can see a bit of a beard ghosting you actually." Kip indicates, pointing a finger towards Kyle. Kyle's hands fly to his chin to feel the stubble and he pulls a heated, playful smoulder when he doesn't feel anything.

"Ha ha, very funny." He retorts sarcastically. And just like his anxiousness, his opinion and understanding of Kip melts into a petty first impression that Kyle is ready to modify. Kip isn't as over bearing and creepy as first expected, yet his gut tingles with uncertainty. Kyle knows that stubbornness is family trait and letting go of his initial reaction isn't something Kyle is keen to do, no matter how sour he feels over his previous misjudgements.

Their conversations spikes a different note after ordering and soon Kyle's worries are momentarily misplaced. After the waitress leaves a third time with their orders documented, the two wander past Black Bard's Cave to the waterfall, where they potter along the river bank and wait for the drivers to perform their ritual. Their mindless chatter creases when the first drives, mesmerised as he descends into a pool of water. His impact into the water barely recognising a splash. It's this notion that causes Kyle to crack a laugh.

"Oh God, I remember coming here for my birthday once." He starts, looking up momentarily at Kip before returning his gaze to the second diver preparing for his jump. "I didn't invite Cartman, so he hid Butters, told him the apocalypse was happening and that the survivors of earth were slowly being turned into zombie cannibals. Then when we found out, we were already here. So…" He stops, watching the second descend and enter the water flawlessly. They turn to walk back to the table and when they sit, Kyle continues the basis of his story. "So, he grabs me as some sort of hostage whist he makes a runner into Casa Bonita to try and do everything he was desperate for within one minute before the cops got here. Oh my god, it was so funny."

Soon the story occupies the majority of the night, supported by other instances with Eric Cartman – it's almost refreshing to past childhood stories onto someone new, everyone else he wishes to share his stories with have heard it all before, or were involved in the incident. Kyle enjoys talking about his childhood, he doesn't do it frequently and when he and Kenny reminisce on it, it's never anything too in depth.

The scenery is striking, portraits hang around them, Kyle identifies Benito Juarez; one of the most famous Mexican presidents he can conjure – Kyle calls him the Mexican Abraham Lincoln. Others hang around him, however not framed as grandly, rimmed by a gold decorative boarder that glistens daringly against its counterparts. Their food arrives and the conversation softens, falling into a lax murmur between bites. Kip asks about Kyle's current affairs, and Kyle has to stop himself from revelling about Kenny. He elects for Stan and his move away to university, and even a fleeting moment for Cartman's current standings, which the details he's unsure of. When Kip gives him the same vague answer to his own question, Kyle notes his murky tone and registers that there might be something more.

"So, where are you living at the moment?" Kyle asks perfunctorily, focusing more on his tacos then Kip's lodgings.

"In my parent's old house." He responds ambiguously, leaving Kyle guessing, why? He doesn't question it more, feeling rude and obtrusive. The conversation slips back towards Kyle and he struggles to answer, where is he living? It's a mix between his childhood home and Kenny's apartment – nothing has been declared officially, but Kyle has a key for Kenny's and uses it frequently (almost more than his own.)

"I'm between places, actually." Kyle begins to explain, deciding it would be better to drop in his boyfriend than to not; he's uncertain of how Kip will take it and is scared of a negative reaction to his gayness. He speaks fluently about Kenny, describing him like water and air – a necessity. He wants to blabber about how Kenny's hair curls in the morning and how his snores sound more like a plane, how he makes awful coffee but Kyle drinks it all anyway because Kenny had made it for him. He wants to recite Kenny's good night kisses and his dozy poetry before bed, he wants to talk about their stupid drives into mountains on cut off roads and how Kenny's eyes come alive when he sees Kyle smile. But he doesn't.

Instead he mentions Kenny's heterochromia and when he got his key and how his parents and Ike are near the east coast. He mentions Ike's scholarship for a programme about things he's barely heard of. Through it he notices his boredom, his lack of adventure and drive that he used to detest when he was young. He misses his and Stan's Friday afternoons after school where they'd ditch homework for PlayStation or Xbox. His misses his Sundays with Kenny after Church, where they'd head down to Stark's pond and sit; Kenny still in his suit and Kyle wearing both a jacket and a coat. Their faces red from snow and embarrassment, and how they wouldn't really speak but leave with a peak on the lips.

"McCormick?" Kip awakens him from his trance, using his limited trivia to question if it's the correct person he's talking about.

And Kyle's dopey smile says "yes."

.

The bill is split evenly between the two of them, and they leave promptly after they place it. Waiters call "Gracias." "Por favor venga otra vez." "Adiós." After them as they slowly stalk away from the restaurant into the night of South Park. Kip's face is flourishing with colour and he looks unprepared for the night's weather. Kyle offers up his muffler reluctantly, he has to fold the scarf around Kip's neck to stop his evident display of confusion when faced with the task of putting it on. Kyle gives a quiet, accomplished smile when the scarf is fixed into place and lets Kip linger mindless after adjusting it before continuing their walk.

Kyle had forgotten to mention to Kenny about picking him up later, yet he doesn't mind walking through the endless streets of South Park, he knows that his town is fairly safe and he understands what to do if faced with trouble. He is unsure of how Kip will find his way home and comes to a silent agreement with himself to not walk him there. However, Kip offers to walk Kyle home and wins through persistence. They stroll towards Kenny's home silently, the snow crisp under their feet and a hazy dribble still secretes from the greying sky as if its emptying the final remains of today's downpour. Kyle leads Kip through winding backroads and dimly lit passages; the snow hasn't been touched in many areas and between them both, they manage to glide unstably along others. Kyle falls completely at one point, clinging to Kip and causing them both to crash onto the floor, Kip's teeth clack against Kyle's chin and he lays fully on top of the shorter, squishing him. When they finally dust themselves off and regain their pace, Kyle feels a distasteful tingling within his gut, he restrains himself from wiping his chin more than once to remove the feeling of Kip's teeth, but finds himself waiting for Kip to look completely away so he can do it again.

This act continues for a short moment before the reach Kenny's gate. One of Kyle's hands rest firmly against it and the other begins to raise to wave Kip goodbye. However, Kip reaches out and grabs it, letting his hand snake lower until his fingers lace around Kyle's wrist and put it up towards Kip. Kyle isn't sure of what's happening, he begins stuttering sentences out to communicate: that he has a boyfriend; that he doesn't understand; if Kip could let go. But barely any registers on his tongue before Kip's other hand presses firmly into his palm and gives it a firm shake goodbye. Although the handshake is brief, Kip's fingers don't retreat for an elongated second, whirling the sticky, distressed tingles within Kyle and causing them to blossom.

"Thanks for tonight, it's been real fun – oh and sorry for falling on you and all." He gives a strained sigh, where he tucks his hands into his pockets and proceeds to step back. "Well then, I hope we meet in the near future. Goodbye, Kyle."

And yet again, Kyle is thrown into a turmoil of emotion and thinks, "yeah, I bet you'll make sure of it."