A,N- Oh my, thank you so much for all your reviews! I love you so much!
Sorry it took me a little time to write this, and it's kind of repetitive, but I think the story is going to take quite a turn from here.
Warning- contains sexual assault. Skip when need.
11
For a second, Cartman stared dumb-founded at the door left hanging open. What the fuck was that? Why the fuck did that redhead suddenly rush out of the room without even giving him a second glance?
With his anger finally beginning to set in, Cartman got up and strode to the door and looked out, but there was no sight of Kyle. His anger began to fume. Did Kyle suddenly change his mind? Did he cower in? Fuck! Should he chase after him? Cartman ignored the fact that his fat, lazy legs would probably never catch up to Kyle and was about to charge through the hallway nonetheless, but the sound of voices echoing in the distance stopped him. He looked back and saw that a couple of his colleagues were returning to their rooms after a long day's work. The entertained voices immersed in their own conversation were irritating, but it somehow cooled down Cartman's head. The fat guard drew back into his room and shut the door, and returned to his bed.
He sat down and rested his chin on his folded hands, thinking. Kyle seemed to have reacted to Stan's desk before he left, and he took something with him, like a plane. Yes. That stupid old paper plane Stan kept preciously on his desk for some reason.
Cartman lied down onto his elbow, remembering Kyle's presence from a few minutes ago. The way his eyes desperately looked away from him but having nowhere to hide. The way he subtly shook as his hands held the hem of his shirt. The smooth skin of his naked back… Cartman slid his chubby hand into his pants and grasped his cock. And imagining what would have happened next if Kyle hadn't have run away, began to stroke himself. He would have taken all of Kyle's skin and made him his. It wouldn't have been all pain; Cartman would have given Kyle pleasure too, enough to tear the redhead in two and make him hate himself for having even a spec of desire to come back for more. Cartman's hand began to pump furiously at the thought of the redhead underneath him, trying to hold in any voices of pleasure, and failing to as Cartman dug deeper inside him. Fuck—
His hand stopped and he glared at the wall opposite him. It was all just a fantasy. A sick fantasy that came so close to coming true. He got up and cleaned his vile hand with a towel, still glaring into space. Fine, he said to himself. He would give Kyle another chance, another chance of becoming his willingly. But if he didn't, he would make Kyle regret it, he would make Kyle wish that he had listened to him in the first place and have done whatever he pleased. He knew a possible way. He would send Kyle to the deepest pit of this Hell, so deep he wouldn't be able to get out. And while he was at it, Cartman would enjoy himself as well.
His dangerous glare paused as he heard the door open and turned to see Stan return to the room.
'You're early,' Cartman said, boiling rage now disappeared under his casually spiky voice. Stan looked up with a warm and gooey smile on his face, more sickening than usual, and chuckled as if he was the happiest fucking man on earth.
'Yeah, I'll be off again. I just came to return this,' Stan said as he placed his old paper plane on the table. Cartman observed this and tensed. Didn't Kyle just run out of the room with that thing? Did he escape his grips to go on running to Stan?
'Who gave you that?' Cartman asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Stan looked at him and his smile had dropped, but it quickly returned as he scratched the back of his neck.
'Just an inmate— I don't know why he had it. He just came up to me and asked me where I got it, and after I said I made it myself, he asked me how. He seemed really keen. But it's quite a cool plane, I'll admit.'
Cartman's frown deepened at this. He didn't suspect what Stan was saying: the bastard wasn't smart enough to know how to lie to people, and be good at it too.
So Kyle had run out just to find out how to make a single fucking plane did he? What a joke. What a fucking joke. He heard Stan leave the room and fell onto his bed again, and slowly, laughter began to leak out of him. It grew louder and louder, and it was half forced at the start, but the more he laughed, the more he found it amusing. Kyle had left to learn about a fucking plane! Didn't he know what Cartman was planning to do to him? Did he not feel threatened enough? Was a deep kiss not enough to show Kyle what he was going to do?
Fine then. Cartman would just have to give him a little push. He wasn't planning on an appetiser, but hell, why not?
.
The lights were beginning to turn off by the time Kyle returned to his cell. His stomach felt like it weighed a ton as he prayed with every step he took for Cartman not to hurt Craig or scrap the deal because of him running away for this one night. He knew that he would have to go to Cartman sooner or later, and so if the guilt was going to weigh on him so much for just one night, why not just go and get it over with? But he couldn't. Not tonight. He didn't want to contaminate this amazing feeling Stan had given him, even if it was just temporary.
Kyle pushed through his cell door to find that Kenny was playing cards by himself, frowning at the cards spread out on his bed in a strangely organised fashion.
'What are you playing?' Kyle asked.
'Solitaire,' Kenny answered without looking up, flipping over a new row of cards. His frown stayed as he stared at the cards he had just dealt on his bed. A soft smile returned to Kyle's lips as he sat down on Kenny's bed. The cards shifted around as the sheets moved with Kyle's incoming.
'Hey, watch it! You're messing it up,' Kenny groaned. But Kyle merely shrugged before gathering up the messed up cards.
'You looked like you were having trouble anyway,' Kyle teased, but having trouble himself trying to gather up the cards. It made Kenny smirk.
'Here,' Kenny said, gathering the cards into a clean deck with only a few seconds. 'What do you want to do?'
'Something we can do together.'
Kenny lifted his gaze for a brief moment, but Kyle was intent on watching his hands shuffle the cards skilfully, and didn't notice Kenny's gaze.
'I've got one then,' Kenny said, placing all the cards upside down on the bed, spacing them out. 'I think you'll be good at this one.'
'What is it?'
'It's a memory game. All you need to do is turn over two cards and if they're a pair, you get to keep them. The person with the most cards in the end wins. Do you think you can do that?'
Kyle smiled to himself.
'I think I can do that…'
The small warmth on Kyle's face made Kenny smile as well, and he shook his head softly at himself. Kyle's smile was so fucking contagious it was ridiculous. Thank god Kyle didn't grin all the time like him, although Kenny's smile was usually fake; and as Kyle had pointed out before, gave people "chills". But the smile Kyle infected him with… that was real. It was quite uncomfortable when Kenny found an unintentional grin on his own face, but he didn't mind it. He didn't mind the smile Kyle gave him.
For the first couple of turns, Kyle didn't win any cards (and neither did Kenny), but he didn't forget any card that was flipped over once. Almost all the pairs he won were thanks to his memory, while most of Kenny's cards were won by luck.
'Well, that game officially sucked,' Kenny said as Kyle flicked over the last five consecutive pairs.
'Only because you don't have the best memory in the room,' Kyle looked up at him with a testing smile.
'I don't need a good memory. A great man doesn't live in the past!' Kenny exclaimed, throwing his cards into the air as he fell back into his mattress.
'Hey!' Kyle shot as Kenny's cards fell all around them (thank god he didn't have very many). He tried to gather all of them up, but as he leaned over Kenny's lying body to reach for a card beside the pillow, the blond grasped him by the waist and danced his fingers along Kyle's sides, making him burst into laughter. 'Stop!' Kyle cried through his laughs, rolling all over Kenny's body. Kenny eventually stopped his tickling to wrap his arms around Kyle entirely, pulling the redhead off of him so they were lying side by side.
'I forgot how good it was to have a teddy bear. You're a bit bony for my liking, but I'm not complaining.'
Kyle chuckled as his hand finally grabbed the card lying beside Kenny's pillow.
'You're not very soft yourself,' he said, breathing into Kenny's chest. 'But I don't mind your warmth.'
They stayed in that stance for a moment before Kenny leaned up, breaking their contact to gather up the rest of the cards.
'Where does a great man live then, if not in the past?' Kyle asked as he gave Kenny the cards he had picked up.
'I don't know. The present, I guess. Since the future is always uncertain. The present is the most real thing, so if you're happy in the present, you'll always be happy. Fuck the past, fuck the future. They're both dreams.'
Kyle thought about Kenny's words for a minute, the concept taking a hold of him. But Kyle didn't know what a great man was, and he didn't know if he would want to be one if he knew. But still, the idea of living in the present was something that grasped Kyle. Both looking at the past and thinking of the future felt like icy water slowly rising up his chest: suffocating, cold, and terrifying. But the present, like right now, tossing the cards about with Kenny after a fun game, laughing with each other… that wasn't so bad. If the present was like this, Kyle could live in it, and he could be happy too. Truly happy, until it becomes the past.
.
It had been a few days since Kyle had run away from Cartman's room, but to his surprise, the fat guard had not approached him yet. The fact did little to comfort him, as he doubted Cartman to be one to let deals slide. He simply waited, as much as he could by Craig's side in the infirmary so that he could make sure Cartman didn't come to hurt him. Tweek began to follow him to the infirmary as well sometimes, once he noticed that the empty seat on the other side of Kyle at the cafeteria had not been filled for a few meals. He seemed to care about Craig more than Kyle thought, and he wondered why. They hardly even talked. But Tweek, shocked and terrified at Craig's injured state, didn't come with Kyle so often, although he frequently asked how he was doing, in his own way. And Craig was doing okay. He certainly had the gift of making something seem that it looked worse than it actually was.
'You know, it's kind of a shame that our reading lessons have been prolonged because of my foot,' Craig muttered to himself as Kyle sat beside his bed, reading. Kyle wasn't being rude; Craig had asked him to entertain himself while he sat beside him, rather than to sit there and watch Craig in silence like a "vulture" (the reference made Kyle frown). Craig turned his gaze to Kyle. 'What are you reading anyway?'
Kyle looked down at the book in his hand, and looked back up at Craig.
'Should I read it to you?'
'What?'
'If I read it out to you, you'll get a taste of what you may be able to do in the future. It can be our first lesson.'
Craig contemplated it for a second, wondering how boring Kyle's book might be. But it wasn't as if he was doing anything else.
'Sure,' he said. Kyle smiled, and turned to the first page. He cleared his throat, making Craig smirk, before he began:
'In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort...'
Hearing Kyle's voice, the nurse also came in and leaned against the wall to watch Kyle read to his patient, though he didn't seem to be listening to the story much, but rather observing the scene. Right there, in the concrete halls of the prison, there seemed to be peace, and love, and caring. In fact, they didn't seem to be prisoners at all, but free individuals, taking small steps towards a continuous life, and even a better future. The nurse had never seen such a thing before. He never felt much satisfaction in what he did, treating patients that cared little for their own wellbeing, but being cared even less by others. Consequently, such bodies never lasted, neglected and broken. But right there, watching these two friends comfort each other and care for each other's wellbeing, suddenly made everything seem not so bad. Maybe there was a future for these inmates. Maybe there was a future for anybody.
Kyle stayed until the nurse kicked him out once lights-out came too close. Kyle was surprised by how much time had passed as he read to Craig, and was amazed that he wasn't interrupted or stopped earlier. He smiled and left the book on Craig's bedside table, promising that he would read the rest tomorrow.
After a few days of reading, Kyle began to think that they could make more use of their time. He drew up a chart of the alphabet and made some learning cards. He tested them on Kenny, who kept on watching him labour away trying to tear the paper into the best cards he could without using any scissors. Kenny laughed at Kyle's attempt to draw simple illustrated cues and ended up doing most of the art himself. He was good… Kyle ended up staring at every drawing Kenny did for minutes.
'Wow Kenny, where did you learn how to draw like this?'
'There are some things you can learn Kyle, and some things you're just born with.'
'I guess you're right…' Kyle murmured, still staring at, what Kenny considered, stupid pictures.
'Hey, I'll draw you a proper picture if you want,' Kenny said grinning at Kyle. The redhead looked up, genuine excitement in his eyes.
'Really?'
'Sure, and I won't ask for much.'
'What?'
'Just a kiss,' Kyle blinked as Kenny tapped his lips with his finger. 'Right here.'
Kyle blushed and looked back down to his cards, making the blond laugh. He was satisfied that he made the boy who felt nothing for holding hands blush.
After making his cards and charts Kyle borrowed some children's books from the library. They had quite a few, to his surprise. What a coincidence.
'You know Kyle, if I didn't know better, I'd say that you're trying to teach someone how to read,' Gregory chuckled as he took the borrowing cards out of the books.
'I am,' Kyle answered, not understanding why it seemed ridiculous. Gregory laughed again and patted Kyle on the back. Although Gregory's reaction was a bit annoying, Kyle thought it to be a good time to ask. 'I'm teaching my friend how to read in the infirmary. When he gets out, would it be okay to teach him here?'
'Well I don't see why not. If he lasts that long.'
'Thanks,' Kyle smiled, ignoring the last bit.
It had been over a week and Cartman hadn't approached Kyle yet, but Kyle was okay now, he wasn't consumed by doubt and fear. He was keeping himself occupied. His goal was to teach Craig to become able to read the title of the book by the time he got out of the infirmary. It wasn't a massive goal, but it made Kyle determined to reach it.
'What's this Craig?' Kyle showed Craig an alphabet on a card. Craig looked at it, frowning. 'If you get it, I'll read you another ten pages.'
'Um— I don't know…' Craig said, staring at the letter.
'But you just said it,' Kyle chuckled.
'What? "Um"?'
'No, the other one.'
'"I don't know"?'
'Yes, it's in there.'
'"I"?'
'Yes! See, "I". It looks like a person standing up straight too. It's me, "I". And the little "i" even looks like it has a head.'
'What's "you" then?'
'"U" is a bit curved. Kenny drew a strange picture of a person being hang from a ceiling by his arms and legs, see?' Kyle showed a drawing of a man being tied up in a masochistic manner. Craig smirked.
'Kinki.'
'But he drew a proper picture too. See? An umbrella,' Kyle showed the back of the "U" card. 'Can you tell me what sound "U" makes now?'
'Umbrella? Um... Uh?'
Kyle nodded.
'What's another vowel that has a similar sound, but slightly different?'
'Um, "uh", "ah"… "A". That's the apple one, right?'
'Correct,' Kyle laughed, showing the card with an apple picture. Craig's lips tensed, trying to hold in a smile, but Kyle could see that Craig was pleased with himself.
'I've answered your question, so now read the book. What happens to Dildo, I mean, Bilbo.'
'Remember where we were up to?'
'They were running away from Goblins ad Bilbo hits his head and blacks out.'
'You've got quite a good memory, Craig,' Kyle smiled and began to read from where they had left off.
.
It was a few days until the next role change and Craig had been staying in the infirmary for over a week. He was doing well though, and the nurse said that he'd be ready to start doing work again next week. But he will have to receive special exception again, to Craig's dismay. He hadn't done normal labour in almost a month.
Other than the fact that Craig was going to be released, the end of the two weeks was desirable to Kyle as he had been on the same outside work three times now. For over a month Kyle had been doing nothing but digging sand and hacking rock for no reason, and he thought that it may be time for a change. He doubted it though. A lot of the people on the same role seemed to have been doing it for months without a change. Well… Kyle might get lucky.
He had never forgotten about Cartman's existence though, even if it had been over a week since they last seen each other. During the day, especially while he was teaching Craig the alphabet, or when he got to share a few conversations with Stan in a quiet hallway, or while he played Cards with Kenny, everything was okay. He was happy, living in the present. But the fear still crept onto him when he was alone, during that dark moment while he lied in his bed, swaying between consciousness and sleep. He would think how long this peacefulness would last, and when Cartman would come up to him next, if he ever would.
And he did.
Kyle was going back to his cell after a quick shower when Cartman approached him. Craig had fallen asleep while he was reading to him, and so Kyle chose to leave him be, gaining the whole evening to himself with nothing to do. Or maybe he should read to himself for once, just have some time with himself. But all those thoughts came to nothing with a light tap of the shoulder. Kyle looked back, and his heart instantly sank as he met those thin eyes.
'Missed me?' Cartman mocked to the petrified Kyle before grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hall. Kyle's wrist ached in his unkind grip, but struggling only made it worse so he quickly learnt to stop. He was finally released when they turned the corner into a hallway with a broken light, only to be pushed into a wall and caved in by Cartman's thick arms.
'You're probably wondering what took me so long, unless you really thought you would get away from me,' Cartman hissed, but Kyle didn't look his way, choosing to stare at the arm placed beside his head.
'No… I didn't think you would be one to let someone off a deal.'
Cartman's lips thinned as they spread wider into his cheeks.
'Have you been thinking about me? Anxiously waiting for me to come up to you like this? Because let me be honest, that would be one reason I chose to wait over a week to approach you, because the thought of you waiting for me was enough to make me cum. For a week, at least. Now I think we've waited long enough.' He grasped Kyle's jaw and pulled his face up as he always did. 'I heard that you ran away last time because you wanted to know about a stupid plane. Well now that's done, do you want to take up where we left off?'
Kyle heard the sound of Cartman's zipper being pulled down and shuddered. He instinctively pushed out, but Cartman grasped him by the hand and kept him in place.
'Someone's going to see us here,' Kyle hissed, wriggling his hand in Cartman's grip.
Cartman chuckled, but didn't say anything. His breath was heavy against Kyle's ear as he began to draw Kyle's hand down towards his crotch. Kyle's heart began to rattle higher in his chest as he felt the fabric of Cartman's pants.
'Cartman, not here!'
'Oh, I'm not going to do anything here,' he grinned, glaring into Kyle's horrified face. 'This is just a small taste of what we're gonna do. This is to show you what you've really got your self into, Kahl. To make sure you won't light-heartedly run off over a fucking plane again. To make you see that you are in fucking shackles.'
Kyle's stomach churned and he puked slightly in his mouth as he felt something warm and sticky, and hard. He tried to squeeze his hand out of Cartman's grasp again, but it only made Cartman draw him in fiercely. Their bodies pressed together and Cartman wrapped Kyle's fingers around his erection.
'All you need to do is, move your hand up and down,' Cartman whispered, moving Kyle's hand with his instructions. He continued to do so, moving Kyle's hand and repeating those words. Kyle tried to think of something, anything that could occupy his head that would take him away from the reality of touching Cartman. Colours, music, names, books, food, sports, objects, knife. A knife. In his hand. Pushing in, and drawing out. Pushing in, and drawing out. Pushing in, and drawing out.
His hand began to move on its own, and Cartman let go of him, grasping the wall as Kyle masturbated him. Push in, draw out. Push in, draw out. Kyle didn't blink; his eyes weren't looking at anything, but there was a strong image burning in his mind. Push in, draw out. Push in, draw out. His hand moved faster and faster, not hearing the heated groans beside his head, or feeling the shoving of Cartman humping into his hand. Push in, draw out. That's all there was. Push in draw out.
Warm liquid spread into his hand and a shot of warm breath wrapped around his ear. The movement stopped, the sound stopped, but the breath continued. Kyle let go and drew his hand out, but there was no sound of metal hitting the ground. The liquid on his hand was not red. The body leaning on him was not dead.
Cartman chuckled weakly and patted Kyle on the cheek, making green eyes finally adapt to his surroundings.
'Yes,' Cartman said. 'You get it.'
He tucked himself away and did up his zipper, still breathing a shaky breath.
'Come to my room same time on Sunday and we'll do the rest. But if you don't, the deal's off. And I don't know what would happen to you or your little raven.'
Cartman walked away, humming to himself a tune Kyle didn't know. Kyle stood there as he heard the sound go quieter into the distance, and stared at his hand hanging mid-air glistening with Cartman's cum.
He just took a shower.
Just took a damn shower.
And now he was dirtier, almost more than ever.
.
By the time Kyle returned back to his cell most of the lights had turned off. He had been in a bathroom for ten minutes scrubbing his hand viciously with a metallic scourer until his palm swelled up like a tomato. He finally stopped when his hand was damaged enough for a necessary trip to the infirmary. The nurse bandaged him up as Craig watched silently, woken up from his shallow sleep.
'How the fuck did you get your hand into this state?' The nurse asked irritably. 'It looks like you've been jacking off a cheese grater or something.'
Kyle didn't say anything, but stared at his hand now wrapped in a bandage. He thanked the nurse and turned to Craig with a smile.
'Don't worry. I can still teach and read to you, no problem.'
'That wasn't what I was worried about,' Craig glared. 'How the fuck did you get that.'
'I— um', he looked at his palm. 'I fell over in the courtyard and my hand dug into the gravel.'
'The wound was pretty clean for that,' the nurse said.
'I tried to clean it myself before I got here.'
The nurse raised his brows, but Craig didn't say anything.
'If you're done now, get out, I'm trying to go to sleep,' he said, turning away and digging into his covers. Kyle looked down, but did as he was told, thanking the nurse one more time. When he got out into the hallway, the lights were beginning to dim down. He was lucky Craig told him to leave.
At first Kyle's feet dragged behind him as if there were invisible people hanging onto his ankles. But gradually, he began to gather speed, until he was running as fast as he could through the dim corridors, skipping steps up the stairs, head down and charging through the darkness until he arrived at his own cell. Hearing nothing but his own breath and feeling nothing but his aching chest, Kyle entered his cell.
Kenny was reading a comic book on his bed but lifted his eyes up at the sound of Kyle's heavy breaths.
'You took a while for a shower,' he said, observing Kyle's flustered state with suspicion. But then his eyes fell on Kyle's hand. 'What happened to your hand?'
'Oh, I— fell over. I had to go to the infirmary.'
'Does it hurt that much?'
Kyle couldn't see his own painful expression and was surprised when Kenny said that. He was quite confident he wasn't showing anything on is face.
'It's okay,' he said, only half lying. It wasn't the pain of his ripped skin that was bad. 'Are you planning on reading for long?'
'Nah, I haven't been able to concentrate. You can turn the light off.'
Kyle placed his toothbrush and soap by the sink and turned the light off. He let out a suppressed sigh when the darkness engulfed him.
'Good night Kenny.'
'Sweet dreams, sugar.'
.
Tomorrow…
It was Kyle's last day on his role, unless he was going to be put in the same one again, and Kyle's mind was being occupied by a certain deal. His voice was monotonous and emotionless as he read to Craig, although Craig didn't say anything about it. He would tell just Kyle to stop and begin exercising his foot as if to say that he was fine on his own. He would be leaving the infirmary in a day anyway.
Kyle avoided Stan slightly, scared that the brunet's kindness might lead him to confess his problems to him. Stan noticed this, but didn't say anything, as his philosophy was that people would say what they want when they needed to, and it was never good to force words out of anyone. But for this instance, Stan could have been wrong, only, he couldn't know that.
'Hey,' Stan called quietly, making Kyle turn.
'Hi Stan,' he smiled. 'Is everything okay?'
'You mean patrolling wise? It's okay. Nothing out of the ordinary.'
'That's good.'
'Yeah… Where are you heading off to now? Tomorrow you get a day off. Lucky.'
Kyle chuckled, but the sound was hollow as he was reminded of what was coming tomorrow.
'I was going to the infirmary. Craig— my… friend… he's getting out tomorrow.'
'Oh... No, I know him. He was the guy you were locked up in solitary with. What happened to him?'
'He— The main thing is, he rolled his ankle. But it's getting better. He's able to exercise it now.'
'That's good. How did he roll it?'
Kyle's throat clogged up. He hesitated to tell the truth, but at the same time he couldn't lie about Craig's injury, even though Craig himself didn't tell the whole truth to the nurse.
'He rolled it when he got hit,' he said as much as Craig did.
'Hit? By who? An inmate?'
Kyle looked away, thinking how to answer without telling a lie or telling the truth.
'No.'
The answer changed Stan's expression from friendly conversation to concern.
'By a guard?'
Kyle didn't say anything, and it was obviously a confirmation. The concept had changed from an inmate getting in a fight and injuring himself to being hospitalised by a guard. It wasn't a very rare thing, guards injuring inmates, but it still disturbed and angered Stan to think that his fellow colleague would deliberately injure the ones they're meant to keep safe, especially if it was done without good reason.
'Why?' he asked.
'Look, Stan, it's not my place to say. If you want to know more, go to Craig and talk to him.'
'Yeah… maybe I should. I'm coming with you.'
Kyle's eyes widened as he watched Stan take a step beside him.
'Aren't you on duty?'
'I'm free till nine-o'clock. Besides, it'll only be a quick chat. I'm not going to interrogate anyone, I just want to talk to your friend.'
Kyle agreed, although secretly reluctantly. But his feelings for Stan meeting Craig was nothing compared to Craig's reactions of meeting Stan.
'What the fuck is he doing here?' He said, glaring at Stan.
'Craig, it's okay,' Kyle tried to calm the shocked brunet. 'Don't you remember? This is the person who fed us during our time in solitary confinement.'
'Yeah, I remember him,' Craig snorted. 'I'm asking what the fuck is a guard is doing here.'
'I just wanted to talk, you know, have a friendly conversation,' Stan answered, taking a seat by Craig's bed. Kyle sat beside him. 'But I do want to ask how you got injured.'
Craig gave Kyle a glance and saw that the redhead was averting his eyes, and then looked back at Stan.
'I tripped.'
'You don't have to lie, Craig. Kyle already told me that you rolled your ankle when you were hit by a guard.'
Craig glared at Kyle this time, asking him why he would tell such a pansy what happened to him.
'I got hit while cleaning one of the bathrooms. He said it was for "leaving the water running".'
'Just for that?'
'We get hit and worse, all the time by the likes of you. Don't act as if it's out of the fucking ordinary or something.'
Stan tensed at Craig's words, his heart being stained by a whiff of guilt. He knew that not every guard was like him, with a sense of responsibility of looking after the inmates, but he also knew, or hoped, that not everyone was like Cartman, his partner. He had some issues, and Stan didn't like him or respect him, even if he was his senior (only by a couple of years though).
'Who did this to you?' Stan asked Craig. Kyle finally looked up to Stan, and then to Craig. There was a hint of fluster in his eyes, as if he didn't want Craig to say the fat guard's name. Craig observed this, and he was sure now that there was something wrong with Kyle. He had been detecting it for a few days now, but now he thought that that was something, maybe, concerning Cartman.
'I'm not telling you,' Craig answered Stan's question.
'Why not?'
'Because it's not a big deal and I don't want you to try and make it into one.'
A sizzling silence came between them, but it didn't last as Stan quickly sighed in resignation.
'Okay,' he said. 'But you can tell me anytime you think you need my help.'
Craig didn't say anything as Stan got to his feet.
'I hope you get better soon,' he said to Craig.
'I'm already better.'
Stan smiled good-heartedly at Craig's strong attitude, happy that Kyle had such a friend. His scepticism and judging manner balanced well with Kyle's inexperience and naivety. Although Kyle's thoughtless honesty was a quality Stan liked, it was also a worrying aspect of him as it kept him from judging people on their first-impression, nothing to keep him from saying what he liked to anyone no matter what colour gleamed in their eye. But Craig seemed down-to-earth, alert, cautious... He could probably teach Kyle a few things.
He turned to leave and Kyle got up to follow suit, but Craig grasped his hand.
'You stay.'
Kyle looked at Craig, then to Stan puzzlingly. The guard gave him a smile.
'I'll see you later then,' Stan said, leaving the infirmary. Kyle relaxed when the door shut behind him and sat back in his chair as Craig let go of his hand.
'What do you want, Craig?'
The brunet stared at him, and leaned up into a proper sitting position.
'What happened?' he asked. The sudden question confused Kyle.
'What?'
'You're acting all weird. What happened?'
'I'm not acting weird,' Kyle said, taken aback but looking away.
'Yes you are.' Craig insisted, his monotonous voice gaining a sense of heat. 'You're quiet, boring, absent, tensed, and have hollow eyes. You're like a burnt-out fire. Man, what happened?'
'Nothing,' Kyle shrugged, his heartbeat gaining speed. 'I'm just— tired, I guess.'
Craig wasn't buying it. He leaned back into his pillows and crossed his arms.
'You know, I've been wondering, kind of, about a few things' he said. 'One, is why the fuck are you acting so weird. Two, although I've been wondering this for a while, is what happened after you left me in the library, where did you go. And the last one is, has anything happened between you and Cartman?'
The last name shot a skew of ice through Kyle's chest and he threw his gaze at Craig, wide-eyed and unblinking. How could Craig know?
'With Cartman?'
Craig nodded.
'Tell me if I'm wrong.'
Kyle's lips quivered into a smile, the muscles in his face twitching at the forced expression.
'Nothing's happened between me and Cartman. Why would you even think that? That's weird. And wrong. You're wrong. Nothing's happened.'
Craig took some time to let Kyle calm down. He knew why Cartman attacked him in the bathroom. It was to get to Kyle. But he somehow thought Kyle was safe when they escaped the bathroom and didn't think much about it. But now that Kyle was acting strange, he was beginning to remember the questions he once asked himself. Where did Kyle go after he left him in the library? He was acting strange when he came back to get him, why? And now, he was acting strange again…
He hadn't said this before, as he didn't want Kyle to panic or feel guilty for his injury, but Craig knew he had to say it now if he wanted to get anything out of Kyle.
'Kyle, I'm asking you if anything happened between you and Cartman because I think he attacked me to get to you.'
'What.'
'I think he attacked me because he knew that you would come to help me if he did. I was stupid to think that you wouldn't.'
'That's silly Craig. He attacked you because he is a sick, sadistic… asshole. He did it for fun.'
'He did it for fun all right. Just, not the fun of hurting me.' Kyle looked away again, his lips tight together. Did Kyle really not see the desire in Cartman's eyes when he looked at him? Especially during their time in solitary? The desire to hurt Kyle more than anyone else?
'You mean, you think that the only reason why he attacked you in the first place was to get to me? He wanted me so he attacked you?' Craig didn't nod, but his silence was enough of a confirmation. 'No, Craig, he said he was doing it for fun.'
'He said?'
Kyle's eyes widened. He knew he had said something he shouldn't have and Craig could see it in his eyes. He grasped Kyle's shirt as Kyle leaned away as if to leave and glared straight into his eyes.
'You talked to him didn't you? You actually left me in that fucking library not to check that "the coast was clear" but to fucking talk to that fat fuck. You idiot.' Craig's eyes thinned a little more and his grip on Kyle tightened. 'You didn't do any fucking negotiations did you?'
Kyle kept his eyes away and didn't say anything, which made Craig shake him in his grip.
'You fucking did. You fucking cocksucker. What did you do?' He shook Kyle once more. 'What did you do!' But the redhead still denied to say anything, and Craig's shoulders dropped watching him. 'If you're not going to tell me I'm gonna go and ask that fucker myself.'
'What?'
'So you better fucking tell me before I approach that piece of batshit.'
Kyle was finally looking at Craig now, in fear, but not in fear of Craig, but in fear for Craig. Fucking typical. He thinks he's a fucking hero or something. He thinks he can protect someone with his puny fucking hands.
Kyle looked down again. His hands clasped together on his lap and his fingers rolled around, loosening and tightening, fidgeting around.
'He said he was doing it for fun,' he finally said, quietly. Craig held himself in, not to edge Kyle on hastily. The words took their time to come out of Kyle's mouth. 'He said he was hurting you for fun. That it wasn't a big deal to him. All he wanted to do was to kill some time in this place, to relieve himself or his stress and boredom. I told him to stop. And he said he will…'
'For what?'
Kyle's hands shook against each other with Craig's firm question.
'He said he will stop hurting you for fun if I gave him something more fun to do. If… I gave him me…'
'What? So he told you that he'd stop if you replaced my spot? If you became his personal punching bag?'
Kyle stayed silent, but it wasn't a confirming silence. Craig's irritation slowly simmered down to ice, before the heat in his head shot back up.
Craig grasped Kyle by the collar again and shot a fist right into his cheek. The redhead's eyes flew open and he held the cheek Craig had just hit, staring at Craig with disbelief and confusion.
'Are you fucking serious?' Craig said in the clearest, strongest voice Kyle had ever heard. 'You agreed to become his fucking— fuck! Fuck you! Fuck!'
'Craig—'
'No, don't you fucking touch me,' Craig snapped as Kyle drew a hand out to calm him down. 'You made a fucked up deal with that asshole to become his chew toy or sex slave or whatever, for me? You sold yourself so that he would stop hurting me? You thought that was okay? You thought that I would be okay with that?'
'No— I didn't, that's why—'
'That's why you tried to fucking keep it from me. You knew that I wouldn't be happy with it, no one would be!'
'No Craig, that's not why I didn't tell you…' Craig glared at him challenging an answer. 'I didn't tell you so that Cartman wouldn't take the deal off. If nobody found out, this would all be washed away, and you'll be safe.'
'In expense of your safety? Kyle, I got my back lashed so I could stop watching you suffer. I'd rather have both my fucking legs broken than to see you get hurt.'
Kyle smiled, finally.
'So would I.'
Craig stared at Kyle with round eyes, dumb-founded. But Kyle's smile didn't quiver, and it gradually brought Craig's tensed lips into a soft smile as well. He shook his head in resignation.
'Nurse, we need another ice pack in here!'
'What?'
'Icepack!' Craig shouted to the tired call. Kyle looked at Craig with confusion and Craig shrugged. 'I'm not gonna apologise for punching you though. You fucking deserve it you bonehead.'
An icepack flew onto Craig's lap before they heard the nurse's door slam shut. Craig picked it up, wrapped it in a towel and handed it to Kyle. Kyle took it and placed it on his cheek, although the punch itself didn't hurt as much as the shock of being suddenly hit. Craig hadn't done it to hurt him.
'Kyle, if we're gonna stay friends we gotta get rid of this bullshit,' Craig said calmly, making the smile disappear from Kyle's face, even though he had referenced their relationship as friend. 'We've gotta make a deal right here and now that will overwrite any deal you've done until now.'
Kyle took his icepack off his cheek and stared at Craig intently with concern.
'What is it?'
'That you won't sell yourself for me again. I can defend myself. I don't need a princess doing it for me.'
A smile returned to Kyle's lips. It was the best deal he had ever heard.
'Fine. But the same conditions apply to you too. You can't sacrifice yourself for me either.'
Craig smirked.
'Deal. And you know what this means, right?'
'What?'
'No more deals with Cartman. Don't associate with that fat creep again, he's fucked up, and you will only fuck him up even more.'
'I won't,' Kyle promised, and it felt as if half his weight was being drained out of his body. He felt so light. He was unbelievably relieved that he didn't need to see Cartman again, and that their deal was off, overwritten by his promise with Craig. But it wasn't just the deal and Craig's persuasion. Kyle genuinely wasn't afraid now, he wasn't afraid for Craig or himself. They were both strong and could defend themselves without making self-sacrifices behind each other's backs.
'You know, I thought we were like different sides of a coin, completely the opposite,' Craig said. 'But I guess even we have our similarities.'
'Like how we sacrifice ourselves for another?'
'Yeah. Although, I'll probably only do that for you, and my sister, while you would probably sacrifice yourself for anyone. Charity whore.'
'I don't think I would do that for anyone,' Kyle answered, taken aback.
'Hopefully,' Craig smirked, leaning back into his mattress.
The conversation ended at that, and the two inmates began to talk about other things. Enjoyable things, such as what Craig was planning to do after he finally gets out of the infirmary, what he thought would happen in the rest of the book they were reading, which led to Kyle picking it up again to read from where they left off. Kyle's voice wasn't flat and weak anymore, not absent; his voice read the book entertainingly as he did before his incident with Cartman. Kyle didn't feel alone anymore. He didn't have to suffer alone for his friend, because his friend didn't want him to. Kyle always thought that love was to sacrifice yourself for the needs and wellbeing of the one you loved. But no, not this love. Not this friendship.
.
Kyle had been walking around the West Wing, looking for Cartman. Craig would be released soon, and Kyle wanted to end this now. Kyle wanted Cartman to know that he wouldn't be going to his cell anymore, and that he wouldn't submit to him. Finally, in the distance he saw a large guard stumping his way through the hallway, and he clenched his fists. He looked around but there were hardly any inmates around, so he jogged up to the fat guard and called his name.
'Cartman.'
He turned quickly at the call of his name, and his harsh scowl fell into a smirk as he saw who had called him.
'Why Kahl, aren't you a little early for our appointment?'
'That's what I'm here for,' Kyle kept a strong glare, which made the guard's smirk quiver. 'I told Craig everything. The deal's off.'
'What?'
'I'm not going to sell myself to you. Go find yourself another toy. One without emotions or a beating heart.'
Kyle moved to walk past Cartman, but the guard grasped his arm in a murderous grip, pulling him to a painful stop. Cartman's smirk was completely gone, and his eyes were razer thin.
'You fucking break off this deal, I swear, I'll make your life a living hell. Making you and your little friend suffer will be the first thing I'll do.'
Kyle's heart shrivelled up at the sheer hate and truth Cartman put into his words. But new blood quickly pumped Kyle's heart back into a strong and proud organ. Kyle grasped onto the front of Cartman's shirt and drilled one last glare into him.
'Fuck you, you fat fuck.'
Kyle swang his arm out of Cartman's grip and stormed past him, not looking back to check Cartman's reaction. This was it, anything could happen now; he had lost his opportunity to keep Craig safe and everything around them in order, with only Kyle's sacrifice as a need. But Kyle didn't regret it. He had Craig, and Stan to help him when he needed. Hell, he even had Kenny to ease his mind with a simple game of cards at the end of the day.
He would be okay. He wasn't alone now.
Life was different here.
A.N- Thanks for reading!
Kenny and Kyle have been getting along lately… What pairings are you expecting or would prefer? Or maybe none? Just curious!
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