Playlist: The People Who Raised Me - Gregory and the Hawk

July, 2017

It's been three weeks. Three long, miserable, far to hot weeks. Though this meant there was just shy of nine left before the Stan returned, and school started again. Look at the positives.

God, Kyle was sick of looking at the positives. There was only so much gallivanting around the town he could do, while Kenny scaled walls and jumped rooftop to roof top. Poor Butters, roped into being his personal camera man. On several occasions so far in the short weeks, Kenny had missteps, slipping off cliff edges. Or miscalculating the jumping distance only to crash into drying bushes below while Butter's had something crossed between a heart attack and a panic attack. Maybe today Kyle could finally do what he'd been craving to do since Stan left.

Lay in bed, iMessage his boyfriend, and watch YouTube videos all within the comfort of his bed. He'd even compromise with the nasty part of himself telling him to go outside, and open the window and lay in the sun on his sheets like a cat.

Of course, that didn't happen. Trying to stop Kenny from doing anything was nearly impossible. And the tree outside his window was far to easy for a child to scale, let alone a seventeen year old with blonde ambition on becoming the next big viral sensation. Pulling the duvet over his head, Kyle growled when he heard Kenny push the window up. "Fuck off, man. Come on," Kyle groaned, feeling Kenny's weight on his legs and bed. Kyle's house had a perfectly good front door, he didn't understand why the fuck Kenny insisted on climbing through his window every god damned morning.

"Christ, you're a crotchety son of a bitch in the morning without your butt buddy, Kyle," he heard Kenny say, voice muffled as he slipped under the blankets to lay flat on top of the redhead. Kenny was lighter than Stan, but since the two of them had been hitting the gym, Kenny wasn't the most welcome weight on top of Kyle. Cruel torture. "Want a kiss good morning? Stan wont mind. He told me to take care of you." Kyle could hear the stupid grin in Kenny's voice, and before he had time to respond he felt the blonde's tongue press against his cheek.

"Eugh!" Kyle cried, wiping his cheek before shoving Kenny to the floor, taking the duvet with him. "Nasty, dude. Who the fuck raised you?" Kyle shivered involuntarily as the wetness on his cheek cooled, reminding him of the many places Kenny's tongue could have been. It worked, though. Kyle knew he wasn't getting his way today. One look out the window showed clear blue skies, cicada's marking the hot weather. Rain from a few days ago still lingered in the form of humid air. A perfect day, he supposed. "Y'know, Stan also told me to look after you, Ken." Kyle rolled his eyes, watching Kenny's face light up with pure mirth. "Wipe the thoughts from your mind. He'd kick both our asses."

Kenny was no threat. All talk, mostly. He'd been flirty and suggestive since they were kids, and it wasn't going to stop simply because Stan and Kyle had been together for almost four years. It was hardly as if it made either he or Stan jealous. Ken was as loyal as they came, and wouldn't dare betray his two closest friends. Neither would Stan or Kyle to each other. But even still, in a fight, Stan'd win hands down. The thought must have brought a smug look to his face, because Kenny handed him some clothes and fluffed Kyle's red curls. "Yeah yeah, your boyfriend can beat me up, we know," Kenny said, eyes rolling.

Lifting a finger, Kyle motioned for Kenny to turn around so he could change.

He didn't, and Kyle just sighed and slipped out of his pajamas and into the shorts and tank top Kenny had grabbed from the laundry basket his mother had brought up the evening before.

Kyle followed Kenny down the stairs, letting the blonde lead him through Kyle's own home. In the living room, Kyle heard Ike. Weird, since their parents were out. Not that it wasn't the first time Ike was heard speaking to himself. "Ike, what are you do-," Kyle asked, entering the room. Ah, right.

"What's a pretty little thing doing with a fat fuck like this, hmm?" Kenny asked, leaning in the doorway. Kyle shot his elbow into Kenny's side, shooting him a glare. "He's thirteen, Kenny, back off." Kenny shrugged, not caring. He never did. Kyle was certain Ike liked the attention, anyway. His younger brother's face flushed red, while Cartman let out a huff of indignation. "I'm not fat, poorboy."

Well, he was. Cartman could deny it all he wanted, but compared to stick thin Kenny, Ike's short and pre-teen frame, and Kyle's own leanness, he was pretty fucking fat. The room stayed silent, before Ike piped up. "He's just big boned, right?" Cartman's arms crossed over his chest, and he nodded. "See. The prodigy here knows. Maybe you dumb fucks should learn." Kyle was certain Ike just didn't want to piss him off.

Kenny still didn't get his explanation, though, and made several hand gestures between the Canadian and Cartman. "Whatever, why are you two together?"

"Mom's got him teaching Ike the basics of piano, I think. Or guitar." One of the two. Cartman could play both, and incredibly well, for some weird fucking reason. To be honest, it grated on Kyle's nerves. Top marks in all classes, except music. He couldn't play anything worth shit, whereas since being forced to play recorder in fifth grade, Cartman had been naturally musical. God, it was so fucking irritating. Even seeing Cartman in his living room, ready to teach his genius little brother how to be some sort of musical genius had him clenching his fists.

Kyle worked his ass off to be perfect. Ike was born it. And Cartman, fuck. Cartman did it out of spite to piss him off.

As Kyle stewed quietly, he met Cartman's eyes and if his self control wasn't almost perfect, Kyle would have launched himself at the brunet to beat that smug little 'I know what you're thinking' look off his face. "Fuck that, Ike, come with us," Kenny said, snapping Kyle out of his own thoughts of assault. "You can come too, fat boy."

Kyle was gonna kill Kenny, wait for him to come back to life, and kill him again. It was one thing for Kenny to hit on his little brother ('So? He's a sophomore already.') but it was another to continue to ruin his already miserable mood by inviting Eric Cartman to hang out. They were friends, sure. But mostly by association at this point. They spent more time fighting than getting along, the soul purpose of Cartman hanging out with them was to get a rise out of Kyle. And it worked every time, and every time Kyle and Stan told him to not let it.

Wouldn't that be fucking nice?!

Kenny died. Slipped out of a tree, bounced on a few branches on the way down, cracked his head open on the road and was finished off by a car. Trying to show off. It didn't phase Kyle, or Cartman. But Ike was a mess. "Stop being a little bitch, Ike, you've seen worse!"

"Shut up, Cartman, he's a kid!" Kyle yelled, holding a sobbing Ike against his chest. It was a pretty rough one, on Kenny's end. Sure, Ike had been through a lot in his own little short life, but he hadn't seen his friends die enough to not be used to it the way he and Cartman and Stan were. And Kyle suspected it was more the gruesomeness of the whole thing that caused this little panic attack. Pushing Ike back, Kyle wiped at his face and gently slapped his cheeks. "Go home, he'll be back tomorrow, he'll be fine. It just looks bad," Kyle reassured, giving Ike a little shove in the direction of their house. He'd be fine, Butters still got worked up over watching Kenny die repeatedly, but the little blonde still remained positive.

Watching Ike leave, Kyle turned to glare at Cartman. "You're such a fucking asshole, Cartman." Kyle huffed, the afternoon heat beating down on them. Through the day, he could feel the humidity in the air expanding his hair, which was now growing uncomfortable with sweat and moisture from the air. Slipping a band off his wrist, Kyle pulled it off his neck and into a loose ponytail in the middle of his head. Instantly cooler.

"What?" Kyle snapped, noticing the stare Cartman was giving him. Cartman shook his head quickly, and shrugged. "Nothing," he said. "You just look like a chick. You need a fucking hair cut. It looks stupid." Gesturing with his head for them to get moving, he gave one last look at Kenny's trail of blood and mutilated body on the hot tarmac. Kyle trotted a few steps to meet up beside him. "Well it's a good thing I don't do my hair for you, I like my hair this length," Kyle replied, resisting the urge to kick him. It was long, sure. And once, Stan and he had stolen Shelly's straightener and it had come down to below his shoulders.

It had sprung back up within a few hours.

Somehow, the ended up at Cartman's house. The idea of going home to a whimpering Ike, and his parents wasn't ideal. Sinking into Cartman's couch, Kyle pulled his phone from his pocket to see the picture message from Stan. It sent a flutter through his whole person, his body relaxing as Kyle smiled down at it. Momentarily, Kyle forgot whose company he was in, in favour of his little day dream. Until he felt the couch sink down, and Cartman's irritating voice cutting through his thoughts. "So, how is our favourite little eco hippy?"

Pursing his lips, Kyle locked his phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. "Fine. He's in the Grand Canyon, right now. He doesn't look miserable." It was a good thing, Kyle supposed. But Stan was having a decent amount of fun, and Kyle was here. Without him and bored.

"You're such a little bitch without him, Kyle, fuck. Stage five clinger." Kyle growled, whipping one of Liane Cartman's throw pillows at her son's fat fucking face. "Fuck you, fat ass. I am not." Okay, maybe a little bit. But it was the first time they'd been separated this long in years... "Stan... We've been together forever. Being gone this long feels like, I dunno..." Kyle trailed off, turning to put his legs on the couch and sit sideways. "Like a part of me is gone. Not that you'd get it. You couldn't feel love it it kicked you in the face."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Oh please. This is unhealthy. Kenny say's you've been moping around for weeks. It's so pathetic. Get over it. Stan isn't coming back because you're here pissing on everyone's parade." Kyle's body was growing tense again, the brief moment of bliss he had gone the moment Cartman started talking. "It's not pathetic, you shitstain! Fuck you. Don't act like you know shit!" Perhaps the small part of him knew Cartman was right, and that was why he was beginning to get so riled up. Kenny had essentially said the same thing the other day. Even his parents and Ike mentioned it. Said perhaps this was good. They'd be able to learn to live without each other for a bit.

"Stan's probably glad to get away from your clingy ass for a bit. Be able to chat up hot girls across the country, and shit." Kyle could hear his teeth grinding in his head. "Cartman, I swear to god, shut up!" Kyle's voice was rising, but Cartman's eyes narrowed and that shit eating smirk came on his face. "Three months away from you is a lot of time to fool around with other people, Ka-ahl." Cartman crooned, leaning forward on his knees to get closer and look Kyle in the eyes. They were on fire. "He might come back and not even want you anymore, Ka-ahl."

Kyle reminded himself of a pterodactyl the way he screeched, launching himself forward to close the short distance between them to wrap his hands around Cartman's collar. "Shut up! I swear to fucking god, you fat fuck!" Kyle shook the other boy, hoping his weight would be enough to keep Cartman down. Not likely, since he was probably double Kyle's own size. "You're just fucking jealous. Jealous of me and Stan! Loving parents, loving families, we're happy together. We're in love and you have no one! Fucking no one, Cartman! All by your fucking self while you're mom's the town bicycle!"

Before Kyle quite knew what was happening, the two of them had rolled to the floor, growing more physical as Cartman took great offense to any negative words said about his mother. "Oi, don't fucking talking shit about my mom you fucking kike!" Kyle's head hit the floor, Cartman on top of him, and grunted. He kicked his knee upward, aiming for Cartman's crotch only to hit him in the thigh. "Get off me! I'll fucking kick you ass, Cartman!" God, he was so heavy.

Managing to squirm out under him, Cartman made a grab for an ankle to drag Kyle back. "Fuck you, jew!" Cartman yelled, only to hear his nose crack from the force of Kyle's left foot hitting him square in the face. "What the fuck?!" Too far? Kyle figured everything was fair game now. It had escalated, and Cartman was dragging him back to pin him to the floorboards. "Calm the fuck down, Kyle, fuck!" Cartman held him down by the shoulders, both their chests heaving.

For a few long moments, they stared at each other, eyes blazing and cheeks flushed. Blood slowly dripping from Cartman's nose, the beginnings of a bruise beginning to blossom under Cartman's skin. Kyle's head tilted slightly, wondering if Cartman knew he had freckles. So light they were barely there... Kyle hadn't ever noticed them before. The redhead blinked, shocked slightly as a drop of blood from Cartman's nose hit him on the cheek. It brought focus to the fact that Cartman was suddenly much closer. When did that happen..?

"What?" Kyle whispered, brows furrowing in confusion before he felt Cartman's lips against his moment. Instantly his body tensed like a board, in shock. But his first instinct wasn't to scream. Wasn't to try and kick Eric Cartman off him. Wasn't even to try and bite his tongue out. Because Kyle suddenly felt like a dehydrated man who found an oasis in the desert. Well, if said man was furious at the oasis for insulting his water supply at home or something...

Kyle wasn't thinking straight. Cartman felt electric on top of him, and Kyle felt starved for attention. If the other boy ever said anything, Kyle'd be screwed. He shouldn't kiss back, but he was, teeth digging into Cartman's lower lip, the kiss growing rougher the longer they stayed together. The initial shock of it all wearing off, leaving Kyle to be furious again. But for countless other reasons; himself. Cartman. Stan leaving. Kenny dragging him out. Kenny dying, Ike crying. Every moment between Stan leaving and now leading up this point as if it was all out of his control.

God, he was so fucked.

Kyle doesn't know how he got here. Well, technically he does know how he got here. They went up the stairs, used their legs and everything. It wasnt a particularly difficult concept to grasp, yet somehow Kyle found himself unable to recall just how this happened. Up against Eric Cartman's door, the taste of blood on how tongue from the nose that Kyle is sure he broke with his kick to the face. How did a fight over something so petty lead him here?

"I hate you," Kyle mumbled, moving his mouth away from Eric's in favour of trailing downward to suck bruise so into Cartman's skin. He wasn't... Cartman wasn't his, per se, but Kyle felt a strange need to mark where he'd been. As if it was wise to show the world just exactly what they were doing...

Lips against Cartman's throat, he heard the other young man laugh. "I think you hate yourself, Kyle." Cartman's voice was hoarse, a tone Kyle hadn't ever personally heard and it caused arousal to shoot through his veins. Just what he needed, more of a clouded judgement. But Kyle couldn't help but laugh in return, biting down harshly where clavicle met neck. "No, I fucking hate you, nice try though." It wasn't beneath Eric Cartman to use manipulation tactics, and Kyle wasn't going to fall for the trap to tricking him into his own self loathing. No. Kyle hated Cartman. It burned in his veins and made him see red nearly every time Cartman opened his fat fucking mouth.

Just thinking about it angered Kyle, who threaded his fingers into Eric's hair at the base of his scalp before tugging. "I hate you so fucking much, so fucking much." Kyle continued to mumble, marring as much of Eric's skin as his teeth could get ahold of. As if Cartman minded. There was sick satisfaction, Kyle considered it a power trip on his part, hearing the large one moan, pressing their hips harder together against the door. Until Cartman's hand found their way to the base of Kyle's ponytail, yanking back violently to look each other in the eyes.

Kyle wasn't used to brown ones.

"You're so full of shit, Kyle," Cartman said, a smirk on his lips as he tugged further, exposing Kyle's neck in some strange display or forced submission. It was almost demeaning, and still Kyle found himself weak for it if the involuntary moan was anything to go by. "Hot, but full of shit," Eric mumbled, one hand strong in his hair, the other slipping up Kyle's shirt to pull it up and over his head.

Slipping his hands between them, Kyle fiddled with the button and zip on Cartman's jeans, pushing them down when he got them open for Cartman to step out of.

"Yeah, well... You have freckles," Kyle countered, laughing when he felt Cartman's teeth dig into his shoulder.