There's a tiny town nestled in almost permanent winter just a short mile away from snowy peaked mountains. In another universe it's home to quirky adventures where children roamed without supervision and yet, by the end of the day, status quo returned and the next morning they were back to the slapstick humor that made them oh so quirky.
But fuck that universe. Look through a pond or a shiny surface and take a gander at your reflection. You'll find that things just aren't the same beyond the looking glass. Perhaps it's even… mirrored.
This is how the story goes.
In this South Park, it's a cruel and vicious town helmed by an absolute bitch-wad of a mayor. They single-handedly dragged Colorado up the number two spot of the most unfriendly place in America.
They use 'unfriendly' because it's nice word to call it. The town was far, far worse otherwise.
So why not number one? Because of Eric Theodore Cartman - the nicest, sweetest, most gentle young man you will ever meet in this little mountain town. He was such a literal saint, he saved South Park from winning Detroit's title just for existing, and he's pissed off a hell of a lot of people for it.
Eric was so nice it was often a burden for the students of South Park High, who had to deal with his insufferable character on a day-to-day basis. What's the absolute worst thing he's done throughout his academic career?
Charity drives. Thanksgiving donations for hungry families like Kenny McCormick's. Anti-bullying campaigns and fundraisers that no one goes to or puts money in, but somehow manages to reach their target goals every single time.
He was doing it again this year too. Humming Jingle Bell Rock under his breath, Eric absently opened his locker, peeled off his red jacket, and dreamed about the good he could do for his charity Christmas drive. This year, he wants to go door-to-door and sell homemade Christmas items to meet his target goal.
Stan thinks he's a pussy for even suggesting it.
Eric doesn't have much friends. And if his bleeding heart helped move that process along his entire life, Kyle made sure anyone who even tried had their names dragged through the mud until they too were social outcasts.
The thought of Kyle's handsome sneer made Eric shiver under his homemade Christmas sweater. He shouldn't like Kyle. Kyle was everything not him. He was vicious, cruel, and scheming. He held himself to a greater standard than the others thanks to his Judaism. That alone made him so selective and privileged, he was instantly a part of the upper tier social ladder.
Eric liked to think that they were at least friends. Why else would someone as powerful and rich as Kyle purposefully hang out with him otherwise?
And from within Kyle's tight circle came the most depraved to follow: Stan Marsh - the one who would gleefully torture your mother if you so much as looked at a rabbit wrong, and Kenny McCormick - the newest town whore that would mug you first before blowing you in gratitude.
These three were his 'friends'. Heaven help him.
"Hey fatass."
He should have paid attention to his lethal surroundings. Eric gasped in surprise before he was shoved face first into his own locker. He was suddenly pinned hard by a slender and strong body that would have taken his breath away if the locker hadn't had done it first.
"H-hey, Kyle…" he whimpered. He tried to smile and ignore the way the ginger boy conspicuously rolled his sharp hips hard against his backside. For mercy's sake, they were at school. Someone could…
Kyle Broflovski leered at him through the mirror Eric purposely put in the back of his locker. There were just too many times he was caught unawares by a student looking to beat the shit out of him, and Kyle wasn't the only one trying to molest or beat him up between breaks.
But Kyle is all smiles today. His auburn goatee was neatly trimmed and sharp, and it helped frame the auburn curls that made the teen look so devastatingly handsome under his dark green ushanka and burnt orange jacket. He's wearing tight jeans today, the kind that he knows drives Eric's sweet thoughts into a tizzy of lust, because Eric can feel the familiar rough denim slide against his ass. It reminded him of entanglements in the back of his truck or the way the waistband squeezed into his fingers when he pulled down on command.
Kyle hummed in content from behind. Oh dear. He was in a happy, festive mood today - which meant someone somewhere was having a very bad one.
A sharp whine leaves Eric's throat when Kyle bites him hard on the ear. It gives the feral teen the opportunity to wrap his palm around Eric's throat and pull, exposing a pale neck just primed for a switchblade.
Fortunately for Eric, Kyle was in a hornier mood than a bloodthirsty one. Instead of a knife, Kyle used his tongue to lick one lewd wet stripe from the base of Eric's throat to the jawbone that curved toward his ear.
Eric's lips part in a breathless exhale as Kyle weaved an arousing spell into his skin using only his tongue and the occasional teeth. "Ngh… K-Kyle…"
Kyle answered with a rough snort. It sounded like an animal holding down his prey instead of a human. And if this hadn't been a school hallway, Eric might have been worried about getting fucked right then and there.
Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Kyle's rutted him into a panting mess in a crowded hallway.
Kyle finished the public display by dragging his fingernails hard across Eric's cheeks and squeezed, puckering Eric's lips on purpose for a messy, wet kiss. It's not nice and certainly not as romantic as Eric would have liked, but he couldn't help the soft keening moan that left his lips before Kyle snatched the bottom one tautly between his perfect white teeth.
He didn't know how he did it, but Eric had somehow wrangled one of the most evil and privileged boys to ever to walk this school's hallways. Kyle Broflovski was a dangerous individual, using logic and reason to justify his evildoing. He's even got a large gang of ginger students at his beck and call - a group rightfully wrestled away from Eric's half-brother who wanted him dead.
Eric doesn't want to recall what Kyle did to Scott, but it had something to do with a woodchipper and a hacksaw on Valentine's Day - and not in that particular order. He shivered just thinking about it.
"Hmm… you're shaking like a leaf," Kyle teased. His other hand dips down to squeeze at the thick flesh just over Eric's hip, rubbing at the soft fleece of his sweater in a not so appropriate way. "You'd think that gay ass sweater would keep your tubby ass warm. Rudolph? Seriously?"
"It's the holidays, Kyle," Eric said softly to his reflection, but his embarrassment lost to the sensual movement of Kyle's fingers. Their eyes meet and it's one of those romantic moments Eric wants to keep to memory. There's no spitting or rough housing - it's simply them so close together that it makes Eric's heart skip and hum with love.
It ends when Kyle scoffed again and shoved him back into the locker, but it doesn't end there. Eric was twisted around and forced to endure their holiday tradition of people snickering and laughing at his festive sweater while Kyle joins them - but only his laughter is hypnotic and sensual to Eric's ears.
He doesn't blush anymore at the public humiliation. It lost its bite enduring it every single day of his life. Still, he can't help but tug shyly at the hem of his sweater which only made Kyle's sharp green eyes burn in both lust and humor.
When Eric is finally unable to withstand the taunts any longer, Kyle ends the spectation with a snap.
"Alright, show's over assholes. God, you mouth breathers would laugh at your own toilet shit wouldn't you?"
The students immediately depart the hallway to go back on their merry evil ways. Sometimes a poor unsuspecting fool would insult Kyle behind his back.
"Ha! Faggot!"
This was one of those days.
Out of sheer instinct, Eric grabbed at Kyle's jacket when those warm green eyes turned into solid stone. It was the holidays. He didn't want to see Kyle commit another round of first degree murder for the second time this week.
Unfortunately for the ballsy tenth grader, he was suddenly gutted from behind before Kyle could do anything about it. Eric gaped in horror when the boy collapsed forward into a dying, twitching heap on the floor.
Stan's cold gaze was not on his victim, but at the stain it made on his jacket. With a chill expression, he brushed a bit of the blood from his shoulder and wiped the switchblade with his gloves.
"God, you're so sloppy," Kyle chastised. Stan only grinned at them in greeting. Not one thought was given to the unresponsive boy on the floor. Eric was stopped by Kyle's warning glare before he could help staunch the wound or call for a nurse like usual.
Oh, those poor janitors.
"I missed the sweater event, didn't I?" Like clockwork, Kenny slid himself by Eric's side to maliciously pluck at a stray thread. Eric bit his lip and shied away from the boy's touch before he actually tried to unravel it. "Jesus Cartman, you've got the most unsexiest outfits on the fucking planet. Fucking virgin."
There was a dying teen on the floor and they were making conversation about his sweater. It was fucked up.
"He's not a virgin," Kyle said smugly. "Aren't you, Eric?"
He used his first name. A flashback of questing fingers and a heated mouth filled Eric's thoughts at once. Flushing, Eric shook away the sinful memories and distracted himself by pulling out a clipboard instead.
Kenny's nose wrinkled at the cheerful Christmas stickers plastered all over it.
"Um… so I'm doing another charity drive, you guys!" Eric responded instead with a sweet smile. "This time it's for the homeless war veterans! Can I count on your guys' donations? Five dollars goes a long way-"
The words died in his throat. Stan decided his time was better spent kicking half-heartedly at the corpse while Kenny fished through his pockets for cash and valuables. Kyle was the only one paying attention to him, but it was obvious he couldn't give a rat's ass about homeless veterans either.
"Every year you do this," Kyle accused with a roll of his eyes. "You book the Airport Hilton and you do all these fucking charity drives, but no one goes to them, Cartman. Do you know why? No one cares."
Eric pressed the clipboard hard against his chest. "I care," he said softly, and the conviction in his blue eyes made the corners of Kyle's lips quirk with interest. "So long as one person cares about the less fortunate then that's all that matters!"
Stan laughed while Kenny humped the air over the body now that he was done looting. "Fuck humans-"
"-don't mind if I do," Kenny quipped.
"-animals are better," Stan continued serenely. "I'll put money into ALF first before I help some dirty homeless fucker." There's an unhinged look in his eyes that never failed to make Eric's hair stand up on end. It wouldn't be the first time Stan had fantasized about torturing someone for the rights of animals and it certainly wouldn't be last.
Eric is unable to handle the desecration of the corpse any longer so he ends up burying his head into his locker again. Kyle quickly took the advantage of sliding his hips back against Eric's ass and slink his arms around his large waist. It's not comfort - it's dominance - and it makes Stan snort with disgust.
"What do you see in that fat asshole?"
"I've got a thing for teddy bears," Kyle simply replied while Eric squirmed under his grip.
It distracted Eric enough to whimper, "B-but you always destroy the ones I make for you..."
"Mmm... not a bad idea. Should I wreck you, Eric?" Kyle licked lewdly along the shell of Eric's ear. "It's been awhile since I've had that ass." Eric faltered under the slide of fingers around his belly and hiccupped when Kyle goes lower than necessary. He started when Kyle suddenly pried the clipboard away and tossed it over his shoulder. It clattered loudly on the floor behind them.
"I'll give you a proper Hanukkah celebration, Cartman," he promised hoarsely and it's oh so tempting. Eric's knees began to shake at the idea. "Just you, me, and eight nights of fun."
Eric stuttered out, "Eight?"
"Eight," Kyle purred and it's enough to get Kenny salivating like a dog in heat. The warning bell for first period rings and it's enough for Eric to snap out of it. He stumbled out of his boyfriend's grip to take back the clipboard Kenny dangled over his head with.
"I can't!" he shook his head. "My charity drive-"
"Jesus Christ," Stan sneered. "Are you seriously passing up sex for the fucking homeless? One day you're going to grow up and stop acting like a pussy, Cartman. And you better do it quick because it's either that or this." He popped open his butterfly knife with ease and Eric visibly gulped at the sight. Both Stan and Kenny laughed harshly at him before leaving the two lovebirds behind for algebra - if they even attempted going this time.
Eric doesn't understand when Kyle shoved him hard back into the lockers to steal back the clipboard. "Kyle?"
Kyle broke the clipboard clean in half over his knee and dropped the pieces at Eric's feet. The love is gone and he's left with a heavy heart. He desperately sought out those cold green eyes. "W-why?"
"I'm going to drag your lardass back to reality," Kyle replied coldly. "The sooner you get it through your fat head, the better off you'll be. Good will? Kindness? That shit doesn't survive in this world, Cartman. You're going to piss off the wrong person and you'll end up in some fucking dumpster without your shoes. And guess what? Like your charity drives, no one's going to be there for your funeral. So quit trying to be a fucking saint and get with the program."
Eric tried to maintain some kind of dignity by picking up the pieces. Kyle watched him scrounge around like an idiot, then scoffed and walked away. He stopped when Eric's words cut into his back like shrapnel.
"I know you're scared for me, Kyle," Eric whispered, "but I can't give up. I know there's still good in the world. What better to celebrate it than Christmas?" Even after being so cruel, he was unable to muster anger for Kyle. He's a product of this universe's vicious nature - he couldn't help that. All Eric could do was simply love him.
Kyle answers by leaving and Eric is left in the empty hallway to literally pick up the pieces.