Author's Note: It's a short chapter but it does prove that I'm still alive. *laughs* I'm working on Chapter 8 now. Liane's behavior may seem a bit OOC, but I have good reason for it, so bear with me. I'm really looking forward to the third part in the arc so it's making the second part drag a bit.
Chapter 7
Cartman was naked, the shower water turned up high enough to no longer be considered soothing. He scrubbed his skin with a fluffy yellow hand rag furiously. The soapy areas of skin were turning pink beneath the suds.
Cartman felt guilty, an uncommon emotion for him. Whether his eyes were closed or open, he could clearly see what had just transpired. He saw Kyle behaving in that demeaning manner, mouth sensuously wrapped around his cock. The image pissed him off. He had made Kyle nothing more than a whore servicing his needs.
The rag was losing its soapiness, but such things were as far from Cartman's mind as they were close to his skin. Surely it had been Kyle picking up his desires and trying to accommodate him. Why would Kyle belittle himself just to make Cartman happy? No, he couldn't think of this as Kyle's fault. It must have been something he had done to encourage it. His mind replayed the scene, viewing his mistakes each step of the way.
Before Cartman had interfered in Kyle's life, he'd been pure, just another good grade getting, mother-obeying virgin. Now after only a couple of weeks in Cartman's house, Kyle was acting like Liane. Cartman had tainted Kyle; it was the only explanation.
Cartman could count the number of times he had felt guilty on his fingers, perhaps on one hand. He wanted to turn back time before he'd ruined Kyle's innocent mind. He wanted to erase the image of those sparkling, wanton eyes staring up at him. God knew though that Cartman had never in his life witnessed anything more arousing than a turned on Kyle licking at him. It was little wonder that he'd lost control, not only letting Kyle go down on him, but ejaculating like five seconds after he'd started.
Though he'd never have admitted it, he was still psyched that he'd managed to obtain Kyle. He'd spent years daydreaming of ravaging Kyle. Since his fantasies were forbidden, he'd turned them into power struggles. He'd tried to convince himself, and had done a fairly good job, that when he thought about sex with Kyle that it was just the desire to dominate him. Since he hated Kyle, and that he had managed to believe, the wanting to fuck him had to be caught up in teaching him a lesson or the like.
So, there was fucking Kyle doggystyle without lube. He'd enjoyed the imagined cries of pain and the feel of Kyle's small frame in his hands, his hips curved like a woman's. Sometimes the hips would be covered by a skirt that Cartman would push up, making Kyle blush with sexy shame. Cartman's mind had never made it straight out rape, because it was so much more shameful for Kyle to want it, to want the pain and pleasure that only Cartman could give.
There was the delightful fantasy of Kyle atop him, ass bobbing up and down like a horny frog only to be interrupted by Kyle's mom. The bitch would barge into her son's room and see what a dirty slut Kyle was for him. He liked that his Kyle was so into it that he didn't stop anyway.
The ones that haunted him now were those in which Kyle was on his knees. They would be at school, in a bathroom stall or a janitor's closet. Even knowing how easily they could be caught, Kyle was so desperate for his cock that he'd happily fall to his knees and fellate. Even with all those indecent thoughts of an eager, lusty Kyle, Cartman still would never have expected it to be the case.
Now that he had that Kyle, the slutty and desperate one, Cartman knew that it had never been about the power. More than that, if Kyle had transformed into this fictional Kyle, it had to be Cartman's fault. As if Cartman had just willed him into existence. Only, it wasn't what Cartman wanted. The past two weeks had been filled with sexual tension, there was no use denying that even to himself, but Cartman was discovering a different need that he had for Kyle. He wanted Kyle's heart more than his touch. He wanted Kyle to love him, to care about him and Cartman wanted to do those things back. He wanted, strangely, to make Kyle happy, to protect him.
But how could he keep Kyle safe from his damaging influence?
The knock on the bathroom door made Cartman jump a bit. He heard it squeak open and then closed.
"Dude, are you going to leave me any fucking hot water?"
Cartman looked at his hand clutching the limp washcloth. There was no soap left on it. He faced the obscure shower curtain. "I'm almost done. Fucking wait!"
"Maybe you need someone to get your back…" suggested Kyle.
Cartman was thinking of a retaliatory insult when the curtain's corner moved slightly revealing Kyle's curious face. Reflexively, Cartman chucked the wet cloth at the face. He was uncomfortable with anyone seeing him naked, especially his skinny-ass boyfriend.
Kyle screeched as the wet square slapped him in the face, knocking him backwards. Cartman could hear his curses from outside the shower. "Jesus Christ! What was that for?"
"For not having any concept of privacy asshole!" snapped Cartman. He turned off the water. When he pulled the curtain back, he viewed an angry, wet-faced Kyle. If he'd been in a better mood he would have taunted Kyle about it. Instead, he self-consciously snatched his towel and reclosed the curtain, escaping back into safety.
"You Jews have no concept of privacy," Cartman bitched.
"And you…" Kyle paused in his retort. "What the hell are you? Do you consider yourself Christian?"
Cartman pointedly coughed. "Apparently you've forgotten that Cartmanism is still a government-recognized religion." He was drying his red skin, procrastinating being naked again in front of Kyle.
It had been years since he'd founded the First United Fundamentalist Allied Congregational Assembly of Cartman®. Since his first church had tanked in the fourth grade, Cartman had intended to launch a second one, since the money-making idea was sound. Even he'd been a little surprised, though delighted, by the fact that the religion revolved around himself and his teachings. The main tenant was to make sure to put the self before others. The idea was very popular, especially with the younger generation, and before Cartman knew it, the religion had churches popping up all over Colorado. Unfortunately, the other churches had better funding and once again he'd been screwed out of his million dollars. Even though his name was in the religion's title, it didn't guarantee him all of its proceeds. Now he understood how Jesus felt, having to work that stupid daytime talk show to make ends meet.
It was irksome that Kyle had managed to forget about that. Hell, there was a whole sub-section of the Cartmanistic doctrine that was dedicated to just how evil Jews, and more specifically Kyle, were. It was just like Kyle to overlook something positive that Cartman had managed to do.
"I didn't forget fatass. I still get death threats from your fucking followers," complained Kyle. Cartman couldn't help but smile at this. It was nice to know that there were still worshippers out there, even if the fad was dying down. "So, you do actually worship yourself? Look who I'm asking!"
"See Kyle, it's that kind of attitude that got you into the holy writ in the first place." He peered out of the curtain. Kyle was leaning back against the sink. He smiled warmly at Cartman's exposed face. It was inexplicable to Cartman how he had earned that kind of reaction from Kyle, but he loved the way that his boyfriend's smile was just for him. Maybe it had come from years and years of time spent together, but it always seemed that they had some kind of secret joke between them.
Cartman wrapped the towel around himself before stepping out of the shower. He was once again thinking about the erotic events that had just taken place in his room and it was souring his mood. So when Kyle reached a hand out and touched his naked shoulder, Cartman recoiled a bit. It was more of an instinctive reaction to the interruption of his internal monologue, but it looked bad the way that he drew back from his boyfriend's touch. Kyle's look was one of surprised worry.
"What?" he asked.
Cartman snapped back at him. "Nothing." He opened the door to the bathroom and left Kyle bewildered behind him.
Kyle was still showering when Liane asked her son if she could talk with him. Cartman's relationship with his mom was not a normal one. Half the time he felt their roles were reversed and he hadn't been punished by her in several years, even when he sorely deserved it. So, while the serious way that she asked put him on guard, he was far from nervous.
He snatched up his coffee mug from the counter. It had already been lightly sugared and had a dash of vanilla creamer just as he liked. He took a sip of the steaming beverage before answering her. "Yeah mom, what's up?"
He pulled out his chair and accidentally caught the corner of the tablecloth. The plates and napkins shifted a few inches towards him. He cursed, shoving the fabric back before sitting.
As usual when Cartman sat at the table, his mom immediately set food before him: silver-dollar pancakes, scrambled eggs, and nutella-covered toast. It looked good.
"Well, I wanted to talk to you about your friend…"
She sounded nervous. He could tell that whatever she was intending to discuss was a delicate matter. He waited to see what she could possibly have to say about Kyle. It wasn't like she could say anything about him having guys stay overnight.
Cartman's mom coughed. "Well honey, I know that you two have become rather close…"
He looked at the back of her head as she prepared Kyle's breakfast. Maybe she did care about the overnights. "Yeah," he agreed, hoping to encourage her to talk.
She sighed, setting both her hands down on the counter before her. "Eric, I'm happy for you, that you have a special friend."
The use of his name instead of a pet name combined with her words made Cartman feel strangely disconnected from her. It felt like he was a grownup come to visit. His hand jiggled the fork over his food.
"But…" 'So, there was a but', he thought. She still wasn't facing him. "Well sweety, people in small towns like to talk. People can be cruel in the things that they say about others. It's easy to get a bad…reputation."
Cartman had never heard his mom talk about all the gossip surrounding her, even in this sort of third person way. He'd wondered if she even knew about what others said of her, because he sure knew that she must not care. Yet here she was talking with him about it and from her tone, it did seem like she cared.
"Things that should be just between a person and their special friend don't always stay that way."
"Mom?" He stood up then, concerned by how she was talking. He'd had to cope with the fact that her sex life was her choice years ago, she he understood what she meant. He was just worried because it was uncharacteristic of her to talk about anything negatively.
She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes softly reflecting tears when he placed a hand on one of her slight shoulders. He didn't see his mother cry often, mostly during her drug lows, but it always made him angry. He usually was mad at her dealers, wanting nothing less than their lives to be snuffed out by his bare hands, but this time his anger was vaguely directed at anyone who felt better than his mom for her whorish ways.
"Why are you crying?" he asked. He was unsure why this was coming up now and what it had to do with Kyle.
"I don't want you to have to listen to what they'd say about you and Kyle."
Cartman could have laughed with relief. She was worried about the crap he'd take for it? What an absurd notion! Did she not notice that it was her reputation that had made his skin so fucking thick. He'd had to pretend, as far back as childhood, to be more offended by people calling him fat than his mom being called a slut. He'd diverted their attention from something that wounded him more deeply. Even with that, the jokes about Liane Cartman were as prevalent as blonde or Pollock jokes in South Park.
'I don't give a flying fuck what they say about me and Kyle," he thought to himself.
It was a huge lie. He had never planned to share his feelings publicly for the same fucked up reasons that his mom was giving him now. It was more honest to say that he wanted desperately to not care what others thought about it. He took so much shit for having a crack-whore mom, did he really want to add homosexual Jew lover to his vulnerable bits?
"Shit mom! Is that all? You really think I was planning on announcing to people that I'm seeing a goddamn Jew?"
A strange look crossed Cartman's mom face but it was swiftly replaced by a smile. "So you are a couple then?" she asked while wiping away a tear.
Cartman caught a bit of movement in the doorway. Had Kyle been standing there? God, how could he answer his mom knowing that Kyle was within earshot. He didn't want to have to sound like some mushy gay-wad. He nodded at her while rolling his eyes, "Yeah I guess, since he won't leave me the fuck alone."
Kyle's form appeared in the kitchen doorway then. "Whatever. I'm here for the good food."
Liane was surprised by the voice, but she illuminated as she usually did when greeting guests. Cartman knew his mother was genuinely a people-person and loved visitors. "Oh Kyle!" She exclaimed moving towards him. Cartman's hand slid off her shoulder as she placed a hand in the center of Kyle's chest. "I'll try to feed you so that you never leave!"
Kyle blushed from his neck up. He nervously passed by her and sat opposite Cartman's abandoned plate. "Wow pancakes!" he said overenthusiastically to disguise his discomfort.
Cartman caught his mom's eyes for a moment. For that brief second, he got the impression that there was more going on in her mind. Something was still troubling her, he was sure of it. The moment was broken by her hurrying to serve her son's hungry boyfriend; however, Cartman made note of that suspicion, making sure not to forget it lest it prove important later. Then he turned his attention back to his plate and more tasty concerns.
