EDIT: I had to put this in. Someone actually, ACTUALLY, gave this review:
"stotow
2007-07-04
ch 1, anon.u bitches must have alot of fuckin time on your fuckin hands 2 right a fuckin gay story that no body but theses gay cuntss love get a fuckin life"
So, let's see, who has more time on their hands? Me, or the idiot who actually wrote that horrible mangled comment like that? ...um... what the hell are you doing reading this, anyways? pfft... loser... XD
Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…
A/N:
It doesn't seem like it, but this chapter is longer than the previous one. The reason it doesn't seem like it is because its written worse. I think. I don't know.
You all should enjoy it. I expect.
MMMM… Food for thought.
Thanks to:
Kenylover98
JaimeyKay
Ren85
Lovebaby
Tweeky Kinz
Victoria Faust
Bee Bop
Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!
Title: Lovesong
Author: Zoshi the Confused
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)
Category: South Park
Genre: General/Romance
Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE
SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE
The wind was blowing pretty harshly, whipping the strands of hair that had escaped past his hat around his eyes wildly. He could feel it pulling at his jacket as he stood there, looking down at the ground. The air still tasted ashy, and the black circle of burnt grass and objects at his feet still smoked slightly.
Kyle toed at the remains of a string of Mardi Gras beads. Green. The color still shone through the cracks of the blackened plastic. Gritting his teeth, he stamped on the remaining objects, crushing them beneath the sole of his shoe viciously. A sharp spike of anger shot through him, but he clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and kept it at bay.
No anger. No anger.
He turned around, walking past the cabin and back into the trees, following an unseen path that he knew much better than he'd like to admit. The trees around him shook in the fierce wind, and the starlight glittered across the whipped surface of Stark's Pond up ahead.
Kyle grimaced, pointing his eyes at the ground and hunching his shoulders against the wind as he left the trees behind. August, September… tomorrow, tomorrow. He tried to focus on tomorrow. Shit. There was going to be a history test tomorrow. Ten thirty was really too late to get started on any studying. Tomorrow, his math homework was done for tomorrow. That was good. Gym was tomorrow. That was all right, but he couldn't say he'd been enjoying it lately.
The snow in his vision changed suddenly to hard concrete, and he looked up finally to find himself at the edge of the road, Stark's Pond left far behind. For no reason he could find in himself, he turned back, looking over at the wind-whipped waters of the pond. A shudder ran through him, and he turned back, hurrying down the sidewalk. He should be home right now. He shouldn't be out walking around to fuck knows where this late at night.
If they notice he's gone.
If… If… If…
He shook his head, focusing on the cracks in the cement beneath his feet. Better not to think. Tomorrow. Focus on tomorrow. His fists clenched inside his jacket pockets, and he coughed once into the bitter wind. He was probably getting a cold. His head was starting to feel heavy and there was an ache in his chest.
"Well, well, what do we have hyah? A loneleh Jew out for a late night stroll, hmm?"
Kyle jerked to a stop, looking up to glare at the person blocking the path ahead of him. Cartman sneered at him, arms crossed across his thick chest. Kyle felt his fists clench in his pockets, and he gritted his teeth. He wasn't about to let Cartman get to him, not now, so he started off again, ready to push pass him.
"Where you going, Kahl?" Cartman turned as he passed him, keeping pace. "Huh? Why're you being so quiet?"
Kyle sped up, trying to ignore him as best he could. The trees on either side of the street were thinning out, and they were reaching the first buildings that constituted the center of the town. Cartman continued to keep pace with him, eyeing him with a look that Kyle thought seemed a little… calculating.
"What's wrong, Kahl? Don't want to talk to one of your oldest friends?" Cartman said, with a nasty kind of smirk. He knew as much as Kyle did that that was pure and utter bullcrap. Kyle barked a laugh, not slowing down.
"What the hell do you want, fatass?" He growled, looking at Cartman out of the corner of his eye.
"I just wanted to talk to you, Kahl. We haven't talked at all since you got back," Cartman said with such an amount of hyper-sweeted sincerity that Kyle almost felt his blood sugar jump. He tried not to gag and instead satisfied himself with just giving Cartman the nastiest look he could manage.
"Sure you are. What are you up to this time?" Kyle said with unconcealed exasperation. It seemed pretty apparent that he wouldn't get rid of Cartman until he got to his house. Where he should be, right now. Instead of out here. Wandering in the half-dark. With fatass.
"I'm not up to anything, Kahl. Why would you think that?" Cartman said, glancing around at the world around them. Kyle didn't know why he did, the buildings of downtown South Park weren't that interesting after all.
Kyle tried to start ignoring him again, and, strangely enough, they traveled for a time in silence. Cartman actually hummed for a bit, and Kyle couldn't help but think that something must seriously be wrong if Cartman was in such a good mood.
"So, Kahl, Ah bet you still need to get caught up with what was happening during the summer, hmm?" Cartman said. Kyle shrugged, but didn't say anything. Was he interested? …maybe… He hadn't really asked Stan about anything, but then again, he hadn't had that much time to just hang out with Stan lately either.
Cartman was waiting for an answer, watching him expectantly. Kyle was sure that whatever Cartman had in mind was hinged on what his answer would be at that moment. He wavered a bit, but something, curiosity?, pushed him.
"So… what happened?" Kyle muttered finally, staring ahead and trying to not think about the fact that he was getting into a conversation with Cartman. He'd been avoiding the overweight teen ever since he'd gotten back, but good luck couldn't last forever.
"Ah thought you'd never ask, Kahl." Cartman grinned widely, and Kyle felt his spirits drop. There was definitely going to be something he didn't want to hear in this conversation. Cartman launched happily into his recount of all the happenings among the teens of South Park. Kyle barely listened, only nodding his head every now and then to show he was still paying attention.
"And Bebe moved out to California, about fucking time, Ah don't think anyone could stand her any longer… Let's see, Ah know that punk haired bitch that's always in detention was hitting on Stan all summer, he couldn't get rid of her…" Cartman continued, on and on, and Kyle was starting to get a comfortable haze in his mind, his head nodding automatically at regular intervals. It was getting close to eleven. He had to get home, he really didn't have time to be listening to Cartman yak about whatever stupid shit happened during the summer. He opened his mouth, ready to interrupt him, when something Cartman said made him stop. His mind tuned in fully to what Cartman was saying.
"So Ah think the thing is that Kenneh just got tired of us, cause he started hanging out with Butters more," Cartman continued, but Kyle felt his entire center grow cold. His shoulders stiffened, but he just grunted as Cartman continued.
He really shouldn't be so interested in this.
"But you know, just between us, Ah think there's something more going on there, if you know what Ah mean," Cartman said, winking at Kyle, Then his expression changed to one of half-disgust, half-incredulity. "But, Ah mean, Butters? Ah don't know what the hell Kenneh's thinking. Whateveh, he's got weird tastes. What do you think? You think there's anything going on there?"
"Why are you asking me?" Kyle asked stiffly, keeping his eyes straight ahead. He could feel Cartman's eyes on him, and a prickly feeling starting crawling up his back.
"Well Kahl, Ah just thought that since you and Kenneh were all gay for each other, you'd know if Butters was his type, but, then again, you two aren't 'together' anymore, so maybe you don't." Cartman laughed. "Gahd, Butters, why? But he did go for you, so Ah guess it shouldn't be that much of a surprise."
Kyle was rooted to the sidewalk. Amazingly, at a moment like this, the only thing he could think of was that it took Cartman almost half an hour of talking about nothing to put his plan in motion. Half an hour of getting Kyle into such a state of disinterest, lulling him into a false state of security, in order to smack him in the face with… with that.
Kyle gritted his teeth, bit back the harsh retort that had been rising in his throat, and decided to act like he was totally clueless.
"What are you talking about?" He said, looking at Cartman as if he was crazy. Yes, good look.
Cartman didn't look convinced.
"Come on, Kahl, Ah know all about it," Cartman said, sighing. "You could at least have the balls to admit it, douche."
"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about," Kyle said, letting just a bit of his anger show. Cartman grinned in success at that slip.
"Sure you don't, Kahl. Look, Ah get it, all right? You just wanted to try something new, and yeah, Kenneh seems like a pretty good choice for it. Whatever." Cartman said, nodding. "You coulda told the guy it was just a one time thing, you know. Worked his poor boy ass off all summer with two jobs, guess he wanted to do something nice for you when you got back."
Kyle wasn't letting the words get to him. He was not. He wasn't.
"Yeah, whatever. Seems like Butters actually likes him, tho…" Cartman grimaced for a moment, fixing Kyle with a half-disgusted look. "Gahd, when did you all go fucking homo on me? Fuck, you're a pussy, Kyle, but Ah thought at least you'd stay straight. Stan's emo-fag most of the time, he's the one who should be chasing guy-ass."
Kyle took a deep breath to steady himself, surprised to find that he was unsteady to begin with, and turned to walk away. Cartman looked after him, and Kyle swore he could feel the amusement that was definitely on the other teens face.
"You won't even admit it, Kahl? Gahd, maybe you are a closet-case." Cartman laughed. "Maybe its better, you should just forget all about it, Kahl. Especially if you're just gonna fuck people over like you did with Kenneh. Guess he was too poor for the Jew, huh?"
Kyle clenched his fists even tighter in his jacket pockets, ignoring it when one of his hands brushed against an object. He couldn't hear him, couldn't hear him. Cartman's voice was nothing but white noise, it was fading, he couldn't hear it. Fuck, Fuck, he shouldn't be getting affected by this. Kenny didn't affect him anymore. No, Kenny and Butters didn't bother him. Didn't bother him at all. Cartman was still talking behind him, but he couldn't hear him. Couldn't, couldn't.
"Whatever, Kyle, Ah gotta go. Later, Jewboy." Cartman was gone, mission accomplished. Kyle found himself seething in the cool night air, imagining just what he'd do to him when he got him alone. He stalked onward alone, in the dark, trying to steer his thoughts away from what Cartman had said.
"Kyle, you're late."
Kyle jerked to a stop for the second time that night. Ike stood on the sidewalk ahead of him, watching him suspiciously. Kyle grimaced, pushing past him and heading onwards towards his house. His brother followed, and Kyle could feel Ike's eyes on the back of his head.
"I was going to tell Mom and Dad you were out this late," Ike said sharply. Kyle narrowed his eyes, looking at nothing. "You're lucky I didn't."
"I'm sure I am." Kyle growled, and heard Ike chuckle lightly behind him. He resisted the urge to turn around and punch the younger boy; it wouldn't do good to get in trouble for that again.
The walk home wasn't that long, but it was silent and definitely was too long for comfort. Kyle resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he pushed open the front door, just like he resisted slamming it back just as Ike started walking through.
"Kie-yole, is that you?" Sheila bustled out of the living room, wearing a dark red robe and looking as if she had just gotten out of bed. "Where have you been?"
"Kyle and I were just taking a walk, Mom." Ike called out as he took his shoes off. Kyle shot him a hard look, but Ike grinned at him in a way that made him want to choke the boy.
"Oh, well, that's all right, but next time try to get back a little earlier, boys, its not good to be wandering around this late at night," Shiela said, coming over to give them each a kiss on the cheek before heading up the stiars. "Good night, go get some sleep now."
"We will Mom." Ike answered her again as Kyle wiped his sleeve across his cheek. He waited until he heard his parent's bedroom door close before heading up, jacket and shoes still on. Ike said something about not getting the carpets dirty, but he ignored him, taking the steps up two at a time. He shut his bedroom door, locking it behind him, and tossed his hat and jacket somewhere near the computer chair. Moving across the floor, he toed aside all the clothes he'd worn that week and climbed across his bed to turn on the bedside lamp. Sitting back on it, he kicked off his shoes and stared around at the mess of his room. The only thing not covered in something else was the laptop on his desk, the standby light on it pulsing slowly and steadily.
He sighed, but that didn't help relieve the turmoil of feelings swirling around inside of him. Shit. He'd managed to stay calm for so long, and then Cartman had to come and fuck it all up. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow, history test that he didn't study for. Math homework due, done. Tomorrow. Tomorrow…
He couldn't focus. His eyes opened to the dark ceiling of his room. There was a sock hanging on one of the paddles of his ceiling fan. How the hell did he get a sock up there?
He rolled out of bed and onto the floor, pausing a moment to stare at his door. He'd heard Ike walking to his room a little earlier, and everything was quiet in the hallway outside. Crouching down, he lifted the edge of his covers and pulled out a few boxes of Hot Wheels cars and some Legos, a lab microscope in its plastic box, and some nunchuks. Reaching out behind them, he slid out a battered shoebox. It was tied shut with shoelaces, nothing else having been available at the time. He stared down at it for a moment, his fingers toying with the laces a bit. His breath was coming a little fast, and he swallowed, hard. His fingers moved over to the edge of the box, he could feel the roughness at the edge of the lid.
The smell of smoke came to him, suddenly, and his eyes narrowed. Gripping the box in his hands, he stood up, walking purposely to the door of his room. Slowly opening it, he crept out into the dark hallway, creeping down the stairs and back to the kitchen. Opening the back door, which was a lot quieter than the front one, he walked out into the moonlit backyard. The cold of the ground seeped through his socks, but he ignored it, heading towards the garbage can standing by the side of the garage. The wind was still whipping around him, and his hair was in his face more often than not.
The lid of the garbage can came off. He stood, holding the box in both hands, poised to drop it into the can.
He was decided. He had to be decided. There couldn't be any turning back.
There was no turning back.