Sorry for the delay again! D:

Hope you like your new chapters and the angst and action and amount makes up for the absence!

Thanks to all reviews, adds, favorites and fanart so far! All the support is SO SO SO SO SO SO appreciated, I love it so much so thank you to all those belonging to those categories!

"Just put your bags on the snow, nothing's gonna happen to them,"

Kyle frowned, "What if they get soggy!"

"They won't, they're in plastic, idiot, just get on the ice,"

Kyle tied on his skates, sighing in defeat and dropping the bag down onto the snow. He pulled a new-bought scarf out that Cartman had picked. He felt at it and smiled; Eric had insisted they buy it because it matched Kyle's eyes. He wrapped it around his revealed neck, stepping out onto the ice and smirking as he swirled an eight around Eric, the latter stuck in the left oval. He looked at Kyle as he jumped and spun to disconnect himself from the pattern and skated backwards with his arms out playfully. He was very graceful and talented and Eric would have thought more of it, but Kyle was an expert at whatever he did, so it wasn't entirely a surprise. He muttered,

"A Figure Eight, right?"

"Or infinity,"

Eric cocked a brow, "Infinity?"

Kyle smiled and circled his own design that imprisoned Cartman, "A thinned eight is the symbol for eternity too. It's never ending,"

"Huh…that makes it much cooler,"

Kyle chuckled, "Yeah,"

Cartman placed the blade of his skate into the line drawn, his other and he traced over it perfectly, mimicking Kyle's jump so as not to ruin it. He looked to the redhead who was beaming kindly,

"Thank you,"

"Yeah, no problem," Eric replied.

They skated in silence for a while, Kyle closing his tired and glassy eyes, appreciating the pull of his scarf and hair behind him, his hands keeping each other warm on the small of his back. He felt himself curve and bump into a warmth. He opened his eyes, blushing a little and laughing,

"Sorry, Eric, I wasn't paying attention,"

"I know, your eyes were closed,"

"Yeah, I guess I'm just tired from today…"

The brunette ruffled his locks and said through a smile, "You're doing great,"

His mouth slanted, "It wasn't the teaching that got me tired,"

"I know, I wasn't talking about that,"

Kyle met ivy with maroon and found that they weren't as intimidating anymore. Those eyes were comforting now and honest. He gripped the sides of Eric's sweater and noted to himself the his knuckles no longer felt flab or fat and Kyle finally realized there was more to this,

"…Eric, why are you losing weight?"

"Cause I was fat,"

"You never seemed to care before, though…"

Eric's eyes lowered and looked away and Kyle tugged on his shirt to get his attention again,

"Tell me. I want to know,"

He seemed hesitant, but complied,

"I haven't had much to eat recently,"

"…why not?"

"Out of money,"

"But your mom--"

"Gone. I've been living alone,"

Kyle's eyes widened, "You've been living alone? Y-you…for how long?"

Eric laughed bitterly, "Since you guys rarely come over it wasn't hard to hide. I've been living alone for two years now,"

"Where's your mom, Eric?" Kyle's voice cracked in shock.

"She's dead, Kyle,"

There was a very heavy silence that fell between them, Kyle's fingers tightening and surely crinkling Eric's clothes,

"W-what did…when…but…"

Eric cupped Kyle's chilled cheek, heating it with his palm and callused fingers,

"This was a while ago. She died of Broken Heart Syndrome,"

Kyle's heart sank…

"It's when someone goes through something emotionally traumatic and it takes a physical toll on their heart, normally causing heart attacks at young ages; likelihood of getting a heart attack after something like losing a loved one or getting divorced is increased when one is on anti-depressants…my mom had it for a while,"

"…that's how you knew…your mom died of it, didn't she?"

Eric nodded, "It sucks when everyone hates you so much that they don't even notice when you've died or when you've lost someone. It's not your fault that you didn't know, really. No one noticed,"

"But, Eric, you've been living alone? What about your God-parents?"

"My mom gave birth to me on her own. Before she died she told me that I'm the lovechild of some high-up business guy who was married at the time and left me and my mom on our own, cause God forbid anyone take responsibility for me…" He paused, closing his eyes and relaxing his aggravated tone, "Anyway, I've never met my relatives. I wouldn't even know where to begin to look for them. I've never seen any pictures of them or heard stories of them and since my mom died, no one has come forward to take custody of me. Since I'm over sixteen, I'm legally able to live on my own now, so…so that's what I've been doing,"

"You're out of money? W-where has the money been coming from?"

"My savings and what mom left behind for me. I've been working on the weekends too, but between the bills and clothes and gas, I just haven't had enough to get food. Don't tell Kenny, he'll end up making fun of me now that I'm in the same boat as him,"

Eric blushed when Kyle very suddenly threw himself around him, his arms tightening around his neck, a hand wrapped up in his auburn hair and the other gripping his neck. Eric returned the hold, his thumb running circles on Kyle's smooth skin and his left hand holding the center of his back.

"Eric, let me help,"

"I'm not taking money from you,"

Kyle pulled away enough for their noses to be a few inches apart, staring straight into his eyes,

"Why not?"

"Because, that's fucked up,"

Kyle scowled, "Eric, my dad's a lawyer. And a good liar. He makes lots of money, it doesn't mean a thing to take you to dinner,"

"Take me to dinner? I'm not your bitch," Eric joked.

Kyle glared, "Let me help, Eric, I mean it,"

"I hate being cradled, Kyle. I don't like being taken care of,"

"I don't give a fuck, Eric,"

Cartman seemed taken aback, but continued, "…if you're really not gonna let this go, I'll let you buy dinner every now and again, but what can I do to return the favor?"

Kyle smiled, "I don't know yet. But when the time comes, I'm sure you'll regret making that deal,"

"Why?"

"Cause now I've got something on you,"

"I don't mind helping you, Kyle. I would've a year ago, but nowadays I'm happy to be here for you. Just tell me what you need when and where,"

Kyle didn't respond, rather concentrated on their hands on each other. Pressed up so close, their hands acting so intimately and lovingly, and gazing into each other's eyes, revealing all their secrets and insecurities with each other…they probably looked like lovers. He saw Eric tilt his head,

"What're you so red about?"

Kyle finally felt how hot his face was and stammered, "N-nothing, I…I'm sorry about your mother, Eric,"

He leaned forward and kissed Kyle's forehead, his grip around his back squeezing him closer and his hand leaving Kyle's face to run through his hair. When his lips pulled away, he looked down to Kyle and told him with a humble curve of his lips,

"Thanks, Kye,"

That look in Kyle's eyes came back, the one that Eric couldn't identify, the one that he couldn't read. Kyle was opening his mouth to reply, but before anything came out, they heard a voice yell out something incoherent. They tore away from each other and Kyle slid somewhat behind Eric at the sight of Stanley Marsh and Wendy Testaburger approaching.

What the hell are they doing here? Are they following me?

Stan thought to himself with a growing anger in the pit of his stomach. Wendy was falling behind, trying to keep balance as not to ruin her designer shoes in the snow. Stan looked down his nose at the pair, his cheeks red with frustration,

"What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like, ass-hat?" Eric bit.

Stan's expression sharpened, "Kyle. Why are you hanging out with Cartman?"

Eric stepped forward, further protecting Kyle behind him,

"You got a problem with it, Marsh? Kye's got every right to hang out with whoever he wants,"

"Don't call him that,"

Eric cocked a brow, "Oh, and why not?"

"Cause he's not your bitch!"

"Oh, so you called him that nickname because he was your bitch?"

Stan hated himself for saying that out loud; no of course it wasn't true, but he couldn't phrase it properly without sounding stupid. He didn't want Wendy to hear him fight over something like a silly nickname and what it meant to him. Otherwise she'd think he was an idiot; or worse, that he was gay. Eric turned to Kyle, urging him to step forward with his encouraging eyes,

"Did you hear that, Kye? Haven't you got something to say about that?"

The redhead stepped up, beside Eric but could not bring himself to glare or scowl at Stan. He just felt uncomfortable and out of place. He knew Stan well enough to know that Stan didn't mean what he said; he was probably just fumbling for the right words and went on the defense like he always does when he doesn't know what to say. He sighed, his face neutral and stoic,

"Stan, I am no one's "bitch", and for that matter, I do not "belong" to anyone in any form. I had a really hard day today and I would have spent time with you, but you raced out of class today. I am not the only person who needs to hold together a relationship between you and me, you need to make the effort to be with me too,"

Stan blushed, his fists tightening, "You mean our friendship? Cause you and me aren't in a relationship,"

Kyle's eyes widened, tossing his arms up in the air, "Sure, Stan, our friendship, which, last time I checked, was a form of a relationship,"

"Yeah, but when you say it like that it sounds like we're like dating or something!"

"Stan, does it fucking matter? You've never been freaked out by the word before!"

Wendy tapped Stan's shoulder after checking her cell-phone, cupping his ear and whispering something incomprehensible from Kyle and Eric's distance. They heard a honk from the parking lot and Stan awkwardly announced,

"I've gotta go. We'll finish this later,"

"No you won't,"

Stan glowered at Eric, "You're not in charge of me,"

"You're not in charge of him,"

Kyle put a peaceful hand on Eric's shoulder, assuring him that he could handle the confrontation. He looked to Stan and replied,

"Don't talk down to me like that. We can talk later, if you want you can walk to my hou—"

"Talk down to you? What the hell are you talking about?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, "When you say 'we'll finish this later' is sounds like you're talking to your little wife who's gotten in trouble again, alright? It's degrading. Don't talk to me like that,"

"As if you've never done that to me before!"

"Oh, shut up, Stan, I've never done that!"

"As if you'd even know! I never tell you when you're acting like an asshole cause I'd feel awful making a complete dick out of you in front of everyone else!"

"Watch it, Marsh," Cartman interjected.

They shared a scowl until Kyle held back a growl and responded, "You tell me everything, Stan, I know you do and you know I've never been an ass to you. I suggest you leave before this gets out of hand,"

The honk sounded again and Wendy said through a chuckle, "Come on, Stan, let's just get out of here,"

The ebony-haired teen sent a last sneer at Eric and left with his newfound girlfriend. Kyle looked to Eric, sighing and putting his head against his chest-plates,

"God, what has gotten into him?"

"I dunno, but you've got to start sticking up for yourself more,"

Kyle pouted, "I thought I did a pretty good job,"

"Yeah, once I made you,"

Kyle glanced away, "Yeah…I guess you're right,"

"Don't get too upset about it,"

Kyle was about to respond but they both heard a rumble. He looked up to Cartman's red face and burst out into laughter,

"I g-guess it's about time I m-made you something to eat, h-huh?"

Eric's blush deepened as he held his stomach in hopes of it shutting up.

"Shut it, Kyle,"

He wouldn't stop laughing, though, he backed away a little, his arm outstretched and pointing at Eric with his other arm holding his own stomach in painful humor. Stan watched out the window as their car drove away from the scene and his chest burned with jealousy at seeing Kyle laughing and Eric rolling his eyes at him and barking something with a smile. He looked to Wendy,

"Sorry about that, Wen,"

"Don't sweat it, that was pretty funny,"

He would've corrected her, would've told her that it was a horrific happening, that it was a terrible thing that just happened, but she wouldn't understand. He leaned his head back, finally greeting,

"Hey, Danielle…where are we going?"

"My house," Wendy replied.

"What're we gonna do?"

"Smoke,"

Stan tilted a brow, "Smoke? Pot?"

"Yeah…I mean, unless you're straight-edge. If you're gonna be a pussy, we'll drop you home. No buzz-kills allowed,"

"Yeah, I know, I've just been really depressed lately."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sorry if I'm a total buzz-kill."

"Don't be retarded, you are my buzz."

"No. I'll go,"

Wendy laughed, "Good, the girls will be so happy,"

"What do you do when you smoke?"

"Have you never smoked before?"

"…no,"

"Well, we usually just chill at my house cause my parents are always away on business. We eat a lot and watch movies, usually. Nothin' special,"

Stan nodded, "Fine. I'll go,"