Walls Became Fuel
Chapter Twelve; Hey There, Baby
The blade was sharp, just sharp enough to cut through his skin and into his veins. Just sharp enough to end his life and get the fix he needed so desperately. He didn't know what was wrong with him, or how killing himself ended up replacing all of his drugs. It was pathetic, and he was disgusted with himself. His family was even in the house. Well, the people who had become his family, anyway. Ike and Kyle were in the kitchen, gathered around Ruby as she taught them how to make veggie burgers. Kenny wished he was out there with them, he could hear their voices and laughter echo through the rooms and down the hall. They sounded so happy. He wanted to be happy, too, but instead he was alone. He was alone in the bathroom trying to decide between taking a bath and killing himself.
He could only imagine how horrified they would be if they managed to get past the bathroom lock and found him bleeding to death on the floor. He didn't want them to see him that way, and he didn't want to cause a big scene, even if they forgot all about it the next day. Nonetheless, it was something that he needed. It was like an addiction in its own right, and part of him didn't want to give it up.
He was a bad, weak man who had no self control. Kyle deserved better than that, but Kyle also deserved better than Kenny could ever give him. They had been back together for a few days by that point, and Kenny managed to kill himself twice since then. It wasn't because he wasn't happy, because he was. He was happier than he had been in a very long time, but there was always a voice that lived in the darkest recesses of his mind. The voice spoke of his family, his real family, and all of the horrors that he tried to run away from and forget.
The voice was his own, and no matter how much he resisted it wouldn't let him forget.
He was fighting himself in a battle that could not be won. Sadly, it was also a battle that he had to fight alone. Even if he wanted to get help he knew that he couldn't. No one knew that he was even able to kill himself without really dying, and no one would believe him if he tried to reach out for the help he so desperately needed.
The scissors in his hand would make a very sloppy and grotesque cut, but he didn't care. He lowered its edge onto his skin, and let the cold metal rub against his wrist. The sensation sent prickles up and down his spine, and again his mind was gone. He pushed down slowly, ready to feel the smoothe, sharp edge ripping apart his veins.
"Hey Kenny! Are you almost done in there?" A very relaxed voice asked through the locked door.
The sudden interruption sent him jerking and stumbling back in surprise despite how lighthearted and inviting it sounded. It was nothing like the voice that was trying to talk him into committing such a horrible deed. It was so soft, sweet, and relaxing that it managed to somehow pull him out of his trance. He knew that it was Kyle on the other side of that door, and suddenly his mind went numb. If he would have sucked it up just a few minutes earlier, and killed himself without a second thought, Kyle would have been the one to find him dying in a puddle of his own blood on the bathroom floor.
That realization left him with the real urge to vomit.
He had always been the one to support and take care of Kyle. It was his job, and one he didn't take lightly, especially after going so long without him. However, his own problems were getting in the way of that. He never wanted to make Kyle cry again, but he knew if he kept on this horrible road of self destruction it was bound to happen sooner or later.
Kyle would either catch him in the act or find his lifeless vessel, both of which were things Kenny would never want to put him through.
"Uh, yeah. Give me a minute!" He shouted back. After glancing down at the scissors in his hand, and then looking back at the small cut it managed to create before he could quench it's bloodlust, he chucked it across the room as if it was a piece of molten steal.
He hated himself for the obviously self-inflicted wound. Kenny had never been one to hurt himself unless immediate death was involved. Cutting was for pussy teenagers, and suicide was for cowards. If he had to choose between the two, he would much rather be a coward.
No, he would rather be brave.
With an uneasy sigh he pulled the sleeve of his parka down over the cut, which was really more like a nick, and then pulled the bathroom door open. Kyle was waiting for him on the other side. He was wearing pajamas, like he usually did while lounging around the house. However, there was something a little odd about his appearance that afternoon.
"Are you wearing a ushanka?" Kenny asked with a disbelieving little chuckle. He was trying with everything that he had inside to keep his pain hidden behind a smile, which was something he was frighteningly good at.
He poked the fabric covering Kyle's head as if to test it's tangibility, which made the man wearing it laugh. It wasn't the same hat he used to wear while they were in school. The thing atop Kyle's head was blue with a leaf camouflage pattern printed into the thick fabric rather than solid green. Nonetheless, seeing him in such a thing brought back relaxing memories.
"Oh, yeah," he replied while tugging gently on one of the ear flaps, "I couldn't get my hair the way I wanted, so I just put it on."
Kyle had a unique affect over Kenny that no one else did. His contented little movements and pleasant little grin made Kenny's legs weak, and suddenly he was thankful that soft little voice was there to interrupt him when he had those scissors pressed against his wrists. The idea of death was much more frightening than ever before now that Kenny had a reason to want to live.
Kyle was truly the only thing that was keeping him stable enough to function.
"So, would you like to try a veggie burger?" He asked nonchalantly as he turned to go back to the kitchen.
Kenny turned up his nose at the idea. He was the kind of guy who liked meaty, greasy patties on his bread, not the dry soy shit Ruby was always going on about. Either way, he still followed closely behind his boyfriend.
He liked walking behind Kyle.
He had a nice ass.
"I know you don't usually like vegetarian food, but it really does taste good," Kyle said in an attempt to convince the picky eater behind him to give it a try.
Kenny wasn't listening, though. He was too preoccupied with the back of Kyle's pajama bottoms, or maybe more so with what was underneath.
It was quite concerning how one second he was on the brink of suicide, and the next he was staring contently at his boyfriend's ass. If one didn't know better they might have thought he was bipolar, and not without good reason. His mood never switched and jumped around so often before. Even he was beginning to notice the lost control over his own emotions.
The mood swings, the suicides, and the urge to dig through the trash to get back his alcohol were all signs of his crippling depression. Signs that no one else noticed, or at least didn't take into account if they did. Kenny figured, though, that the wounds on his mind where just like the cut on his wrist; that if he was patient they would heal with time.
He wasn't so sure about that anymore.
The kitchen was bustling with activity by the time Kyle returned with his boyfriend. Ike ran around the room, picking up different items and ingredients for Ruby as she stirred an odd looking mixture with a wooden spoon. Goblin and Tamara seemed to be trying to trip him on purpose as he hurried around the room. They would sit down right in front of him as he tried to walk, and appear behind him when he tried to back up.
However, Kenny was much more interested in what he saw on the counter. Two opened packs of velveeta were laid out beside the crockpot, along with a package of hamburger and tortilla sauce. His eyes got foggy and his mouth started watering as he eyed the ingredients to his favorite cheese dip, which was something he hadn't tasted in years. Kyle used to prepare it every holiday, and every now and then for special occasions. It was Kenny's favorite taste in the world. He tried to make it himself after his boyfriend left him, but it was never the same. He didn't know whether it was really because he fucked up the recipe or if it was because he knew Kyle hadn't been the one to make it.
Nothing was ever the same unless Kyle made it.
"Cheese dip," Kenny said almost stupidly, as if he was a toddler who just learned a new word.
Kyle smiled up at him and nodded, "I thought that you could help me make it."
Kenny was starting to see the world differently than he did before. The kitchen was bright, and somehow everyone who was at work seemed cheery and happy. He couldn't understand at first. He couldn't understand how Ike was smiling and talking with his brother from across the room as if Karen had never lived, as if she had never died. He couldn't fathom how Ruby could go on and just cook as if it was an everyday thing, as if she wasn't missing a huge chunk of her soul. Kyle was a mystery as well. Kenny couldn't understand how he could seem so unaffected by the death of an entire family who once took him in and nurtured him. He demonized them at first, and felt angry because they were just going on as if there wasn't anyone missing. He felt betrayed, and for some reason alone.
When Kyle looked at him though, holding a ladle up to the side of his face with his usual little grin, Kenny noticed that he didn't look as blissfully unaware as he originally thought. There was a sadness there. It wasn't something that could be easily noticed, and if Kenny hadn't known him well he probably wouldn't have seen it at all. His eyes weren't as wide and carefree as they used to be. They were somehow thinner, as if his innocent view of the world was sucked out of him long ago. He looked very tired, too, which Kenny knew was his fault. His usually full and lively looking eyes were worn and the skin beneath them were tinted a very slight purple. Kyle hadn't been getting much sleep for the past few nights on account of Kenny's nightmares.
They returned to him, and they were just as awful as ever. He would awake in the middle of the night screaming and kicking in horrid fear. Kyle would usually be wrapped up in his arms or nestled against him during those episodes, causing him to jerk awake multiple times throughout the night. The first time he woke in the middle of the night to the aftermath of Kenny's dreams he was so surprised he nearly fell off the couch. All he could do was pull his flailing companion into a startled embrace and hope that Kenny's fear would pass soon.
He would almost always cry into Kyle's shoulder after his horrifying episodes, damaged and traumatized my the images forever scorched into his mind. He would apologize profusely in shame of waking his companion so often and late in the night, but Kyle would only rub his back softly and whisper calm reassurances.
He understood that Kenny was hurting, and he never once treated his pain as an inconvenience.
That's when Kenny realized that no one had forgotten their missing friends and family. They hadn't forgotten what happened, and the happy, carefree expression on Kyle's face wasn't him acting as if they never existed, it was his best attempt at being strong. His best attempt at being normal.
If Kenny only knew that brave face was for his sake.
"You just gonna stand there?" Kyle asked as he waved the ladle to catch his attention.
"What?" Kenny asked, being brought back to reality.
"I asked if you wanted to cook with me," he reminded patiently, gently, his soothing smile never wavering or changing in frustration of having to repeat himself. He was so understanding of him, which was something he never encountered before.
"Oh, yeah. Of course," Kenny replied, offering his own little smile.
Kyle took the hamburger meat off of the counter and popped the plastic packaging with his fingernail. Kenny watched in an odd fascination as his boyfriend worked one of his slender fingers under the wrapping and pulled it off.
"Okay, do you remember how to cook the hamburger?" Kyle asked as he held the unwrapped meat in his hands.
"No," came the honest and somewhat ashamed reply as Kenny tilted his head.
"Don't look so sad," Kyle said, "Here, I'll show you."
He moved around his brother, who was standing by the counter as he looked through the silverware drawer, with package in hand, and then turned on the stove. The skillet was already sitting on the proper burner, and Kenny watched with the most focus he could muster as Kyle turned the dial.
"It needs to be set on seven, and then when it heats up you chop up the meat with the spatula. You got to make sure all of the meat turns brown though, don't leave any of it pink," he instructed slowly as he dropped the meat into the pan. His calmness and loving patience somehow struck his new found cooking student in the heart. Kyle calmed him, relaxed him, and made him feel like everything was alright again.
Kenny came up from behind him and wrapped his arms around the unwitting man. Kyle jumped at first, confused and not expecting to feel a pair of arms constrict around his torso. However, when he felt Kenny bury his face in his shoulder he relaxed and leaned back into the embrace.
"Are you okay?" He asked in confusion.
"Never better," came the immediate reply.
"So," Ruby interrupted their somewhat intimate moment after watching the embracing couple murmur to one another, "I'm guessing you two got back together, considering how well you've been getting along."
She added that last part with a raised brow as she watched them over her shoulder, making Kyle blush and Kenny smile. They hadn't told anyone at that point of the rekindling of their relationship. They figured that Ike and Ruby would just realize when they saw how close they were, and they didn't want to worry about the scrutiny of others. They wanted to be a bit more stable and emotionally sound with one another, so that their bond would be strong enough to resist the negative opinion of their friends and Kyle's family.
They did not even want to think about what Sheila would have to say.
"Yeah," Kyle replied, a small and anxious smile unfolding on his face as Ruby watched their unfaltering embrace from across the room.
She didn't seem to have a strong opinion either way any more. With a shrug of her shoulders and a subconscious flick of her hair she dismissed the whole thing as if it wasn't really that big of a deal. Maybe she had changed her mind about their relationship or maybe she just got used to them being around her, either way it was reassuring not to be targeted for one of her scathing lectures.
"So, Mr. and Mr. McCormick," Ike teased as he leaned against the counter, "How long are you two planning on living here? If you are going to stay for a while we can move the stuff out of the junk room for you."
"Aw Ike, you don't have to do that for us," Kyle said, although he was obviously quite flattered by the sentiment.
By this time Kenny had released him and was standing idly nearby as he listened to Ike's suggestion.
"Well, I feel bad when I see you guys squished on that hard couch. You know couch cushions aren't good for your back, anyway." Ike said while wiggling his finger.
He was so much like Sheila sometimes Kyle felt as if he was still living at home.
Kenny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the idea of their own bedroom.
Kyle chucked a spoon at his face.
...
"How long have you had all of this in storage?" Kyle asked in wonder as he sifted through an old box of clothes. It contained pajamas that Kyle left behind the night he moved away, and he was amazed Kenny still had them, along with every other worldly possession they once owned, in a storage unit outside of town.
"Since I had to leave Whitely... I couldn't bring myself to get rid of any of it," came a mumbled reply from Kenny.
"I can tell. You still have our paper decorations from Whitely Day in one of the boxes in the hall."
Kenny didn't reply, only smiled contently.
Once they managed to clear out the junk room a couple days before hand, that was literally piled to the ceiling with nothing but unused items, and relocated everything to the shed out back Kenny brought them to Hold'Em Storage, where he had been renting a locker for the last four years. Everything from Whitely was arranged carefully inside. Their old kitchen table, their couches, television, dressers, bed and many other miscellaneous items greeted the party of four when Kenny hauled the heavy metal door upwards.
They had no money to rent a U-haul, so Kenny had to get down on his knees and beg Craig to let him use his civilian truck because hell would freeze over before he would ask to use Cartman's. They managed to put their old bed together, hang up an old mirror they used to have in their bathroom, and set a little dresser at the foot of their bed. Kyle was in the process of shifting through all of his luggage and a few old boxes they brought down from storage now that he had a more permanent place to put his things.
"Kyle," Kenny complained in a high pitched whine as he rolled over in bed, towards the redhead that was sitting on the edge of the blanketless mattress.
"What do you want?" He asked, feigning annoyance with a contented grin.
"Kyle, put down the box and come lay down with me," he continued in a long, high pitched, complaining cry.
"You sound like Cartman," Kyle laughed out, folding clothes in his lap as he did so.
"Do not!" Kenny shouted before jolting forward and latching onto his boyfriend. "Now come lay with me."
"Let me finish folding first," Kyle bargained as he tossed a folded shirt onto the dresser at the foot of the bed, much to Kenny's discontent.
"No," he argued like a spoiled child before tightening his grip and pulling Kyle back onto the mattress, sending the little pile of unfolded clothes that was in his lap to fall to the floor.
Kyle laughed, and suddenly all of Kenny's pain melted off of his bones. Kyle wrestled with him, hitting him with pillows and diving off the bed when his boyfriend reached out to capture him around the waist. The orange clad man jumped right after him, catching Kyle by the leg until he himself was dragged from the mattress and onto the floor. The darkness from their open window soon began to creep lazily into their room, depriving them of sunlight as Kenny pinned Kyle to the floor and let out a victory cry.
"Get off!" Kyle fought playfully as he kicked and thrashed under the man, who was shirtless just for the sake of being shirtless.
"Never!" Came the immediate and expected reply before Kenny moved his legs to where he was squatting, and then hoisted Kyle up over his shoulder.
"Holy shit!" Screamed the smaller of the two as he was nearly tossed across the room, despite landing on the bed with a bit of a bounce. Their wrestling match continued until it got too dark to see, because by that time they were both far too tired to reach up and flip on the lamp side table. They panted, desperate for breath as they laughed and punched at each other sloppily. Everything was fine, and once they both caught their breath they curled into one another. Clinging contently for solace in the midst of all the undeniable pain.
Kenny nuzzled into Kyle's chest for warmth, also too lazy to go into the living room to get a blanket. He felt those long slender fingers rake sleepily through his wheat colored hair, which felt absolutely amazing. Kenny loved it when his hair was played with. Kyle's fingertips massaged his scalp and tugged lightly on his hair, lulling him into a false sense of security as he sucked in the smell of his companion's detergent. He felt safe, as if Kyle could protect him from everything that left him hurting.
It wasn't easy for Kenny to forget what had happened to him and his family, and he didn't want to forget them. He just wanted one day to go by where he didn't make an attempt on his own life. He wanted to be able to feel and breathe again, like he used to when Karen, Kevin, and his mother were still around.
He wanted to remember how it felt to look into his father's face and feel anything other than disgust.
He didn't know how he managed to function at all without Kyle there beside him. He somehow became Kenny's anchor, holding him steadily in place so that the swift current of his turmoil didn't sweep him away. Kyle was what made him remember what happiness felt like.
Maybe Dr. Gloveland wasn't such a quack after all.
"That feels good," Kenny mumbled softly, enjoying the feel of Kyle's fingers against his scalp. It had been such a long time since he felt such relaxing touches, and he melted against the chest he was nuzzled into when fingertips gently tugged on his earlobe.
"I wonder if our door locks," Kenny said half jokingly as he buried his face in Kyle's neck, kissing the soft skin he found there.
Kyle's face flushed red before he murmured, "You're a pervert."
"I'll let you top," he laughed out, continuing his not-so-joking jokes in hopes of planting ideas in Kyle's head.
"Let me?" He asked with a snort, "If I remember correctly you were usually on bottom."
"Well you remember wrong!" Came an offended protest before Kenny flipped the both of them over so that he could pin down his companion. He held Kyle to the mattress by his wrists, smirking down at the man trapped below him with a look of triumph on his features.
"Just because you're taller than me doesn't mean you're stronger," Kyle nearly whispered before yanking his wrists out from under Kenny's grasp, grabbing him around the torso, and flipping them back over yet again. They bounced on the springs within their mattress as Kyle pinned him harshly to the bed with his forearms.
"You know, you make for a really hot man when you aren't playing housewife," Kenny panted, still tuckered out from their wrestling, before sticking out his tongue in defiance.
Being one to never waste an opportunity, Kyle dipped down and ran his own tongue along the one already protruding from his lover's mouth. Kenny's face lit up a hot red. He didn't expect for Kyle to be so bold after so long, but maybe he was just as starved for intimate contact as the blond beneath him had become.
"Should I check and see if the door locks?" Kyle asked quietly through the darkness.
"No," came the immediate reply as Kenny lurched upward, latching onto Kyle so that he couldn't slip away, "Stay here with me."
Kyle obliged his plea, and lowered his body until Kenny's back pressed into the mattress. He let his fingers trail over Kenny's unclothed sides, and stroked his beautifully inked upper arms. It had been so long since Kyle felt the intimate touch of another person, and it had been so long since sex actually meant something other than release to Kenny. Their hearts were both racing as Kyle allowed his slack lips to brush against his boyfriend's. He used his tongue to wet the other man's chapped lips, and Kenny's breath hitched as Kyle caressed his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.
Slowly, gently, and sweetly they moved together in flawless unison. Tasting, feeling, and nibbling at the familiar flesh they had both missed so much. Kenny grabbed a firm hold of Kyle's shirt, and pulled it up over his head. The feeling of flesh on flesh sent bursts of anticipation exploding in their chests. In desperation for more, Kyle gripped the elastic of Kenny's sweats and yanked the fabric down to his thighs.
Both of their faces flushed deep red when Kyle realized there was no underwear under those bottoms. Kenny was already getting hard, and he wasn't above helping him get there.
A gasp escaped from Kenny's throat as a damp, warm tongue trailed from the base of his member to the tip. Soon he was engulfed in a warm mouth, and Kyle began to bob his head.
Kenny's back arched up off the mattress at the mind numbing feeling, and he allowed his fingers to run through the curly red hair of the man who was pleasuring him. His brain felt like it was on the verge of bursting when the experience began to sink in. It was Kyle who was touching him. Kyle who was sucking on him, not some stranger or short term girlfriend.
Kyle.
He felt something he had never felt before that night. A pure feeling washed over him, cleansing his filthy soul as someone who truly loved him worked their mouth around his cock. So much casual, loveless sex could really damage a person. A good one, at least, and although Kenny had done very bad things in his lifetime he wasn't as heartless as his actions made him seem. He craved the unconditional love of another human being more than anything, and all he had left for quite some time were only memories.
He had much more than that now, though.
Kyle moved his mouth to the head, massaging the delicate skin with his tongue as he pumped his firm hand over the shaft. A long, pleading moan escaped from deep within Kenny's throat. He began to push his hips upward, matching the strokes of his lover's fist and pushing up into his mouth. Kyle's hair became tangled in the shaking hands of his boyfriend while Kenny moaned out for release.
"K-kyle," he groaned softly as he tipped his head back, the top of his skull brushing against the headboard while he continued with his thrusts. Then, Kyle pulled away from him to pull off his own pants, leaving Kenny's throbbing member slick with saliva.
"Do you have a rubber?" came the heavy question as Kyle ran his hands along his lover's outer thighs.
"Hold on."
Kenny rolled out from under the other man and began digging through the pockets of his ratty orange parka, which was bunched up under his head as a pillow. He dug deep into the pockets, and returned with an entire box. Kyle took it from him, and was too engrossed in what he was doing to notice almost half of the condoms were used. He pulled one apart of the others, and then tossed the box over the side of the bed.
"I haven't done this in a long time," Kenny admitted with his eyebrows furrowing together, "I mean... you're the only guy I've been with."
He was nervous, which was very unusual when it came to sex. However, he was used to being dominant. Allowing Kyle to top him meant letting go of control, which was something he was by no means comfortable with. Dominant sex and suicide were the only things that gave him any sense of power, and he was trying his best to give up both.
"Don't worry," Kyle coaxed gently as he slid the lubricated rubber over his arousal, "Just let me take care of you."
His comforting words did help to subdue Kenny's fear, but not by much. He closed his eyes, laid back against his parka, and drew in a deep breath to steady himself. A gentle pair of fingers slicked him with a little package of lubricant, which was stashed in Kenny's box of condoms. He stiffened at the contact, but didn't fight it as Kyle rubbed him.
He caught himself wanting to cry out when he felt a finger slip inside. Instead, he bit his tongue and just allowed the feeling to take control of him. It had been a very long time since he'd been with a man. However, Kyle wasn't joking when he said he usually topped. He had been in Kenny many times before, so he remembered what to expect. It was always weird and uncomfortable at first. Kenny scrunched up his nose when his lover added another finger, not at all liking how they felt.
"Dude, relax," Kyle urged softly, "This'll be easier if you aren't tense."
The fingering didn't stop until Kyle deemed him loose enough, and Kenny's breath faltered with uncertainty when he felt a body hover overtop of him.
...
The morning came slowly over the horizon as Kenny stirred from his sleep. His eyes were heavy, his body was stiff, and for some reason he couldn't move very well. He groaned in annoyance as he reached up at what was pinning in down to the bed, only to find someone else's body draped over him. He rubbed his blurred blue eyes in confusion until he remembered where he was and what had happened the night before.
"Babe," he murmured as he pushed on Kyle's shoulders, "I can't move."
"Sorry about your luck," came the sleepy reply from the person on top of him.
It took every bit of strength he had to grab Kyle by the shoulders and push him off, but somehow he managed to do so. Kyle groaned in disapproval after being pushed away, not at all liking having to lay alone. He curled up against himself, partly to cover his nakedness and partly because of how cold he was, as Kenny threw his legs over the side of the bed. In his tired stupor he slipped Kyle's boxers on, and then left their sanctuary so that he could find something to eat. His stomach growled loudly as he pushed through the kitchen doors, not even bothering to see who was sitting at the table as he pulled open a cabinet in search of sustenance.
He wasn't in pain, but he wasn't exactly comfortable either. There was a dull ache that shot up his spine from his backside every time he made a quick movement, but it wasn't unbearable. He reached for a box of cereal in the back of the cabinet when he heard someone on the other side of the room clear their throat as if they were somehow trying to catch his attention.
He turned around to face them, wearing nothing but his boyfriend's boxers after a full night of sex as his messy bangs fell sloppily over his forehead, to find none other than said fuck buddy's mother sizing him up in her mind with a grotesque look of disapproval planted on her face.
"Yo Mrs. Bro," Kenny greeted as if he wasn't tuckered out from sex and wearing nothing but skivvies, "What are you doin' in this neck of the woods?"
Her face contorted to a look of disgust with his feigned dialect as Ike explained, "Um, Kenny, my mom's over to look at the house now that Kyle and I cleaned the place up."
"Speaking of Kyle, where's my son?" She asked, her face looking beyond suspicious as he watched the filth that just stumbled into the kitchen.
"He's... in bed," Kenny blurted out as he backed up towards the exit, still just as intimidated of Kyle's mother as he was when he was a child, "I think... I hear him calling me."
