Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

IMPORTANT: This chapter is best read in ONE SITTING. So if you don't think you'll finish it all at once, then don't start it, but come back when you do have time and read it. :D That's so you get the entire experience.

…and if anyone thinks anyone acts OOC in this, then they should remember just what is happening in this story… XD

I hope you all enjoy it. Really does tell you something about what was going on, and… it ends in a way that I like to end things… hahahaha

Thanks to:

Kennylover98

Bee Bop

Ren85

Ebichu Chan

Yourmom

I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the ConfusedRating: 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 sky was a darkening blue streaked with pink and orange clouds near the west. The sun was a hazy yellow disk just seeping below the horizon, surrounded by a halo of yellowish-pinkish-purplish sky. Straight overhead the sky was in that fading, melding sort of state, where it was neither blue nor purple nor black, but something in between all three, dark and bright at the same time.

Kenny breathed out the smoke he'd been holding in, watching it as it floated upwards lazily, twisting slightly in the lightly blowing wind.

He was in no mood for contemplating the sky this evening, or contemplating anything else, in fact. He'd had headaches more often than not lately, waking with them and falling asleep with them. It might have something to do with the fact that he wasn't eating as much as he – well, not should, because he never did but – could. His mom was starting to get on his case about that lately, too, which didn't help the headaches at all. You'd think she'd be happy to save some food, but no, some sort of motherly instinct must be trying to get out of her or something.

God, but he was getting bitter.

He used to live for the moments when his mom actually acted like a mom, and his dad like a dad, but lately, each time they did, it only pissed him off even more than he already was.

Fuck, he needed to get over this shit. This wasn't funny, he really shouldn't be stressing over this anymore. It was going to be October in four fucking days and he should be fucking over it already.

He growled at himself, loud enough to scare a stray dog that had curled up next to their kitchen door, and pushed himself off of what passed for their back porch. The dog, a brown and mangy mutt with big, liquid brown eyes, watched him mournfully, hopefully, and after holding its gaze for a moment he took his still lit cigarette and flicked it at the dog.

The cigarette spun artfully through the air, and landed on the dogs nose, lit side down. The dog yelped in pain, and maybe fear, and stumbled to its feet, limping painfully on oversized feet to the far edge of the porch. Whimpering, it hopped off, disappearing from view, then lifted its head just enough so its eyes showed above the warped boards, watching Kenny fearfully with those huge brown eyes.

Great. Fucking great. As if he didn't feel shitty enough, now he felt bad for burning a puppy's – it was a fucking puppy – nose, a poor little puppy with a limp and the mange, who was staring at him like he was some horror from hell made flesh.

Frustrated, he pulled at his hair. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

The puppy disappeared beneath the edge of the porch, and he sighed loudly. He needed to take a fucking walk. It was time to get his head straight and start acting like a normal person finally.

Pulling out another slightly wrinkled cigarette from his pocket, he stuck it between his teeth, searching through his pockets for his lighter as he headed away from his house. He heard the puppy whimper as he walked passed it, and sent it an apologetic look before continuing on his way. Halfway to the tracks he realized he'd left the lighter on his porch.

Fuck.

Whatever. He'd have to make do without a smoke. Maybe it was better this way, he'd been going through almost a pack and a half a day for the past few weeks; another reason why he wasn't eating as much as he could. He sighed, aggravated, pulling his fingers fiercely through his hair again. Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, he stuffed it back in his pockets and headed over the train tracks.

He couldn't believe he'd ever been so stupid. Just because someone says they mean something doesn't mean they do. But he'd wanted to believe, fuck, he wanted to believe so bad. It sounded so right, coming from Kyle. It sounded so real. He shouldn't have believed so easily, he should've known that it was too good to be true. Besides, nothing lasted, he was more aware of that than anyone else in this stupid little town. He should've been prepared.

Should've, should've, that's all that was in his head these days.

Should've.

He should've been harder to win over, no, he should've never been won over. He should've been fine alone, without anyone getting too close, without anyone giving him any semblance of normality. Without being able to find comfort in any person other than himself. He should've been smarter than that, but he wasn't. He wasn't smart and he wasn't sharp and he couldn't, he couldn't, still now, couldn't understand how it all went wrong.

Oh, no, shit, he knew about the parents, and how they were bitches, but not even they could do something that bad. They couldn't. Fuck, the worst his dad did was smack him around and call him a bitch, or a shithead or something.

Parents couldn't be that bad, could they?

He laughed suddenly, bitterly. He was one to talk, wasn't he? Neglected, abused, left alone to cope by himself for most of his life, and he wasn't able to imagine any parents being able to do something like that.

Maybe he was just thinking about it too much. Maybe he'd over thought it so much that he wasn't seeing things clearly anymore. Entirely possible.

He rubbed his forehead. He had to stop thinking. Just stop.

…there was a wind coming from the west, it was rustling the treetops around him. He was walking down the path on the town's side of the railroad tracks. Ahead it bent into the thickening trees, practically vanishing into the darkness between them.

The path led on a side path through the forest, leading to a clearing not far from Stark's Pond. It was a long walk, longer than going there by way of streets, but it was calming, and relaxing, and… it also led to…

Kenny found himself gritting his teeth. The pressure in his jaw wasn't helping the pounding in his head. Fuck. So what if it led there, he'd go there if he wanted to. Just because he'd been avoiding it for so long doesn't mean he had to continue. Yeah, he would go there. It was his place before it was ever even close to becoming their place, after all; long before. And it was going to be his place again, now.

He sped up along the trail without really being aware of it. Now that he had a definite place in mind, he had the urge to get there as soon as possible. Hell, maybe he'd find a lighter around there, fuck knows how many he'd lost around that place.

He shuffled through the thick carpet of leaves that littered the ground. The wind was chilly, fall was in full season, and for some strange reason he didn't feel the least bit cold. Well, that might be that he didn't really feel a lot lately at all. Well, not much more than bitter, or angry, or horrendously annoyed. Taking this walk might just help him calm down a bit. Hell, maybe his head would stop hurting finally. Or at least hurt a little less than it did at the moment.

Tall trees with leaves turning colors, the wind rustling over head, birds calling all around him… it was a pretty picturesque sort of scene, but he couldn't focus on it. He'd developed quite a one track mind lately, getting stuck on one thing until it was done, and that was happening again now. Now, all he could think about was how he was going to get to the clearing and to the shed, and that was all he cared about. Some part of him seemed to think that the sooner he got there, the sooner he'd start feeling normal again, or at least the kind of normal he'd been used to.

So really, his walk ended up being more of a half-jog. There was urgency in his trot, and the closer he got to his destination the faster he found himself moving, His breath came out in puffs, every now and then he let out a cough. Fucking cigarettes, he really should quit. A fleeting thought before he focused again on his objective.

The trail he was on began dwindling, narrowing, and soon it was just a slightly beaten path weaving between large, leafy trees, nearly hidden in the carpet of red and orange and brown leaves. Had he been walking on the path on purpose, he'd be forced to start searching for the trail, pushing aside leaves to find it, but he was running on instinct now, he knew exactly where he was going, and how he was going to get there.

The entry into the clearing was sudden, almost shocking. One moment there were tees all around, the next there was open air and yellowish grass underfoot. The shed, shack, cabin, whatever it was, stood in the middle of the clearing, rough and old-looking.

Kenny jerked to a halt, staring at the shack.

The stone step at the front was occupied.

The pounding in his head increased quite a bit, maybe from the sudden rise in his blood pressure, maybe from the pressure with which he was gritting his teeth. Maybe just because this seemed the ideal moment for his head to hurt almost a thousand times more than before.

For a moment he almost turned around, stalked back towards his house, but no. No, dammit, he wanted to come here and he wasn't going to leave now. He wasn't going to lose.

With a look of grim determination, Kenny stalked over to the cabin, stopping a few feet short of it.

Kyle sat on the stone step in front of it, leaned low against the door. His head was tilted slightly, resting at an angle against the building, his eyes were closed. Kenny could see his chest rise and fall evenly, could see the way his lips opened slightly with each exhale. There was no real way of telling how long the redhead had been out here, but considering that he had fallen asleep, it probably had been a while.

So what now, what did he do now? Should he leave? Should he stay? Should he tell Kyle off and then go home?

He wanted to touch him. He wanted to feel him, see if he was still real. He wanted to check and see if this wasn't just a dream or something.

And then…

Wait, wait. What the hell was Kyle doing here? Why was he here?

To get out of the house…? But he could go anywhere else, anywhere… Why here? Why now?

The wind gusted fiercely for a moment, suddenly, ruffling the red curls that stuck out from under Kyle's green ushanka. Kenny, having become fiercely defensive a moment ago, found himself grinning slightly. Kyle really did look adorable when he was asleep. He looked younger, more innocent… Why the hell had this happened? Why couldn't they just have been happy together?

Kenny sighed, trying not to think about that again. Everything was over, Kyle had made that clear. There was nothing between them anymore, he just had to accept that fact.

The wind gusted again, less fiercely this time, but hard enough to make something in Kyle's sleep-limp hand flutter slightly. Kenny frowned thoughtfully, stepping closer to the sleeping redhead. The fluttering something looked like a piece of paper, or something like paper. Kenny leaned over, looking, but he couldn't really see what it was. He stepped even closer, less than a foot away now, and looked down, finally able to see what it was Kyle was holding.

If his blood pressure had raised before, it skyrocketed now. He couldn't hear anything, suddenly, nothing but the pounding of his heart in his ears. His fists were clenching, tightly, but he didn't feel them. He didn't feel the snarl that suddenly appeared on his face, or the way his eyes had narrowed dangerously.

HOW

FUCKING

DARE

HE

If he'd been aware he was moving, he wasn't after the fact. For a second there his sight had gone, a blind screen of white tinged with a blood red at the edges. He couldn't hear anything for that moment, nothing but the loud thumping of blood racing its way through his body, and some white noise in the background, a violent sort of hum.

When his sight, his feeling, his hearing came back he found himself standing over the now sprawled figure of Kyle, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his right hand holding a vague pain around his knuckles. He was breathing heavy, could only watch as the redhead on the ground clawed at the leaves around him, desperately, before finally finding some sort of traction.

Kyle raised himself up on his arms, just a little off the ground, almost falling over as he did. He turned, not entirely balanced, widened eyes searching for a reason for this rude awakening. They found it, meeting Kenny's rage filled eyes, and the redhead froze, half-twisted upon the ground, breath coming strained. Kenny glared down at him, saw the blood trickling slowly from his cut lip, the bruise already starting to darken the left side of his face. He couldn't remember hitting him, but he certainly didn't regret it. Oh, no, he didn't.

No, no, he didn't. He was quite satisfied with the fact that he'd hit him. Actually, he wanted to hit him again. And again. And again, until Kyle knew exactly how he had felt these past few months.

That might take a lot of hitting.

Kenny moved forward, took a step, and Kyle shrank back against the ground, eyes full of fear, not even trying to get away. It was that, more than any other factor, that made Kenny pause. He was raging inside, he was ready to burst at the seams, there were things inside him that wanted out, but he paused. He didn't like that, didn't like the way Kyle was looking at him, terrified as a rabbit in a trap. Didn't like the way Kyle's eyes were wavering, unable to stay truly still for even a second. The redhead was trembling, Kenny could see it, could see the way his shoulders jerked a little, could hear how every third or fourth breath was accompanied by a near whimper.

"Why?" Kenny growled, "Why do you keep lying?"Kyle didn't answer, just continued to stare at him. The blond's eyes moved, falling on the object that had been in Kyle's hand a few moments earlier. It lay a foot to the side of the redhead, the wind causing it to flutter a little in the leaves. He stepped closer, Kyle shrinking back as he did, and grabbed the object fiercely, lifting it out of the litter so harshly that a few of the red and orange leaves lifted along with it, hung in the air for a moment before fluttering down to the ground lazily. Kyle jerked as he did so, as if he'd wanted to move, as if he'd wanted to grab at the object in his hand, and for a second Kenny though he would. But the redhead shrank back at his look, watched with wide eyes as Kenny examined it.

It was roughly rectangular, although it was missing a large chunk out of the top right corner, and all the edges were rough, scalloped, and bordered in melted brown. It was slightly curled in on itself, a little wrinkled at one side, and still smelled slightly with the acidic stench of burned plastic. The side he was looking at right now was white, covered in one area with now-smudged pen scrawl and a few patched of brownish stain.

He hesitated before turning it over; he knew what was on that side. Flip, and there it was, there was what he'd seen when he'd look at Kyle's hand a minute ago.

The two of them, arms around each other, grinning like maniac's into the camera lens. Behind them the rough-hewn log background of the shack wall, and some assorted junk that had been piled up against it over the years.

Them, arms around each other, grinning like maniacs.

Them, together.

Together.

Kennys hand began to clench, crushing the picture in his fingers. This was his picture, his picture that was supposed to be gone, gone with everything else he'd burned at the edge of Stark's Pond months ago. His picture, and Kyle had it. And he had it here, at the shack, at the cabin where they'd spent so many nights together what seemed so long ago.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he unclenched his fingers. He thought he heard a rustle in the leaves below him, but he wasn't paying it attention. He looked at the picture again for a long moment, then positioned his hands at the edges – and pulled.

riiiiiiiiiiip

"NO."

It was half-strangled cry, half-desperate shriek. Hands clutched at his pants, fingers digging into his legs. He snarled down at Kyle, snarled down into his desperate pain filled eyes, and ripped the photograph again.

"NO, no Kenny stop please Kenny please stop don't…" Kyle pleaded, begged, whimpering, pulling at his pants, trying to stand up but for some strange reason losing his balance each time he did.

"Shut the fuck up!" Kenny growled at him, ripping again, and again.

"Kenny, no no no…" Kyle reached up, trying to reach the blond's hands, trying to stop him from destroying the picture, but Kenny raised it out of his reach, continuing to rip it as much as he could. Tiny pieces of the photo fluttered to the ground, and he grunted with each tear, with each rip, Kyle gripping at the front of his hoodie now, pulling and pleading and begging.

"You want the fucking picture, huh? You want the fucking picture?! Take it!" Kenny almost screamed it out, whipping the fragments straight at Kyle's face. The redhead dropped his hands, covering his face and turning away, and Kenny pushed him away, almost hard enough to knock him entirely over.

"You're a liar, Kyle! You're such a fucking liar!" He did scream this time, screamed at him, and couldn't stop. "You're always lying to me, always, I can't believe the shit you told me, its all fucking lies!"

"Kenny," Kyle struggled to push himself off the ground, rising to his feet unsteadily. "Kenny…"

"SHUT UP. Shut up, I don't want to listen to you anymore, I don't want to hear you, all you say are lies, you fucker!" It was bursting inside of him, Kenny couldn't hold back the onslaught. He felt like puking and running and laying down and just fucking dying all at the same time. "Shut up!"

"Kenny," Kyle reached out his hands to the blond, but Kenny smacked them away. Kyle continued to try, his voice almost a sob, "Kenny, please…"

"Fuck off!" Kenny couldn't see straight anymore, his breath was coming too fast to control and his mind was racing too hard and all he could see, all he could really, really see was the way Kyle's eyes were getting watery, the way one tear had loosed itself from the corner of his eye and had begun to travel down his cheek across the bruise that was getting steadily darker. "Fuck off, just leave me the fuck alone! I never should have trusted you!"

Kyle winced, biting his lip, and stepped forward, just a step.

"I trusted you! I trusted you, you piece of shit! And I trusted you, and I was with you and I would've done anything, any-fucking-thing for you, and you lied to me!" Kenny was having a hard time controlling himself, his hands were clenched hard, he could feel himself shaking but he didn't know how to control it.

"Please, Kenny," Kyle stepped forward, getting closer to the now seriously shaking blond. Kenny stiffened as Kyle stretched his hands out to him, touched his fingers to his shoulders. "Kenny…"

"Don't touch me!" Kenny lashed out, pushing or punching, he didn't know which, but Kyle ended up falling against the side wall of the cabin. The redhead slid a few inches down the side of the building before stiffening his legs, pushing against the wall to keep himself upright. He looked at Kenny with a pained expression, fingers clutching at the logs behind him.

Kenny's face felt sticky, it felt hot, he could taste salt on his lips but he couldn't remember starting to cry.

"…I loved you…" His voice shook, wavered, "I loved you and you lied to me…"

Everything he'd done just moments before this was nothing but a slap on the wrist compared to the force with which those words hit the redhead. Kyle's face paled, his breathing stopped just for a moment, his eyes widened. And then he broke down. The tears came streaming out of his eyes, and he slid down the side of the cabin, his eyes remaining on Kenny. His fingers clenched in the thin grass beneath him, and his shoulders shook with each whimper, with each heart-wrenching sob that ripped out of him.

Kenny could see the despair in his eyes, the pain and the guilt and the grief all together mixed. It pained him, it did, because he still loved the redhead, and still wished him to be happy, and it hurt, hurt so bad to see him hurt so much.

He tried to say something, but all he could do was sputter sounds, he couldn't form the words, and Kyle was still looking at him, looking as if he were going to just fall apart there and then.

Kenny couldn't understand, couldn't understand the situation, couldn't understand the why and the how and the why, the why, God, why did it have to be this way? Why did everything always have to go to shit like this?

He turned away, sharply, unable to continue looking at the redhead, and started walking, stumbling off. He had to leave, he had to get away and get his head straight again.

He heard a noise, a strangled whimper maybe, but he didn't turn, he couldn't turn, he had to keep walking, keep going.

"KENNY!"

Before he could turn around, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his middle. He felt another body press against his from the back, shaking, pulling tightly to him, so tightly. Kenny twisted, trying to pull out of that grip, but he could barely move, the arms were gripping him so hard. He managed to turn around, to grab Kyle by the shoulders and attempt to pry the redhead off of him.

"Don't, don't Kenny, don't leave me, don't leave me right now, please, please…" Kyle pleaded with him, pulling close again, trying to stay close.

"No, No!" Kenny pushed him away again. He couldn't handle this, he couldn't handle any of this. God, he wanted Kyle to be close to him again, he wanted to hold him and be close and feel him right there, right there, but fuck, fuck, he was scared, he was so scared – what if it was another lie? What if it was all just a fucking lie?

"Please, Kenny, please don't leave me…" Kyle gripped Kenny's hoodie tightly, digging his fingers into the fabric, desperation in his eyes and in his voice. "Please… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Kenny, I'm so sorry…"

Kenny felt his resolve slipping, felt himself becoming less able to push away the redhead. No, he couldn't anymore. He couldn't look into those desperate eyes and still push him away.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Kyle kept repeating, his voice dropping to a whisper, to a whimper. Kenny continued to look at him, struggling to hold back his own whimpers. "I'm so sorry Kenny, so sorry…"

They stood there for a long moment, just like that, Kenny with his hands on Kyle's shoulders, Kyle with his hands gripping at the fabric of Kenny's jacket, both staring into each other's eyes, both struggling to control themselves.

"Why?" Kenny managed finally, his voice nearly cracking. Why, why why why…

Kyle let out a noise half-way between sob and choke, and pushed himself, pulled himself into Kenny so hard that the blond couldn't stop him. He buried his face in Kenny's shoulder, shaking against him, pushing against him, and Kenny found himself putting his arms around the redhead reflexively, resting them around his waist.

"…so sorry, so sorry, oh fuck I'm so sorry…" Kyle repeated, still shaking, still sobbing a little.

"Why, Kyle? Why did you do that? Why?" Kenny questioned, his voice not whisper but not speaking, still nearly shaking himself. "What happened?"

Kyle shook his head, roughly, against Kenny's hoodie, his arms gripping tighter around the blond. Kenny ran his hands up and down the redhead's back, shakily, trying to be comforting, still wanting to know.

"Why won't you tell me?" Kenny whimpered. "You can tell me, Kyle, fuck, you can tell me anything…"

His hands continued to move soothingly over Kyle's back, but even with everything happening he managed notice the way he could feel Kyle's spine through the layers of clothes he was wearing, felt as if there were less of him to hold. When had he lost so much weight?

"No, no, Kenny…" Kyle spoke into the fabric of the hoodie, "No, I can't…"

"Kyle," Kenny pushed him away, maybe a little too fiercely because Kyle clutched at him desperately, eyes shooting towards him, fearful again. "Kyle, tell me."

Realizing that Kenny wasn't going to push him away again, was going to let him stay close, Kyle relaxed his death grip a little. He frowned, his lips quivering.

"Kenny-"

"TELL ME, Kyle…"

"I…" Kyle started, stopped, sniffled a little, but kept from wiping either his face or nose. He leaned back towards Kenny, slowly this time, defeated. Laying his forehead on the blond's shoulder, he took a breath and started explaining:

"I was fine all summer, Kenny. I… I could fight back against anything, anything they threw at me… I… I wrote to you, but I could-couldn't send it out, they checked everything… they… fuck, Kenny, they had Ike following me around all the time, all the time… he…he was the one who found out-found out about… about us, and he told them, and that's why… that's why they knew… Kenny, I tried, I tried so hard, I thought I won, I thought I convinced them…"

He hesitated then, his fingers clenching reflexively. Kenny pulled him a little closer, waiting, trying to be patient.

"…I really thought I did… it was… two weeks until we were coming back, two weeks… And I was passing through the kitchen, and-and my dad had come to get us, he stayed…. Stayed here because of work, but he came to-to pick us up… and I was passing… passing through the kitchen…"

Kyle's voice grew strained, he shuddered.

"And there was a paper, there was a paper on the…the table… and I didn't really look at it… but then I did… Kenny, it…"

His voice strained so much that it disappeared. He squeaked for a moment, fell silent with a shudder.

"…what was it, Kyle?" Kenny's voice trembled, his hands found Kyle's shoulders gripped them.

"…it was legal notice…" Kyle's voice was quiet, so quiet, so controlled, so hard to hear, "It was a claim… about-about failed mortgage payments… and… and pending… eviction… all… all it needed was a signature…a… a lawyers sig-signature…"

Something cold started growing in the pit of Kenny's stomach. Suddenly, he wasn't shaking anymore.

"It was lies, Kenny! It was lies, but it was legal and sounded real and it coul-could have worked and… and I couldn't do it, Kenny…" Kyle started shaking, harder this time, "I couldn't do it, I just looked up, and my mom, and my dad, and I couldn't… they were serious, Kenny… I… I couldn't do that…"

Kenny moved his arms, mechanically, slowly, robotically almost, wrapped them around Kyle, pulled the redhead closer to him, holding him tightly. The words were there, they were in his head, but he couldn't make sense of them yet, not yet. But he knew. He knew what that meant.

"Shhh, Kyle, shh…" He tried to calm the redhead down, but Kyle was shaking harder now, sobs coming faster, "Shh, shhh…"

He should be pissed, Kenny thought. He should be pissed, or mad, or something.

He wasn't anything. He was nothing.

He was numb.