A.N. hello again beautiful people, I come bearing another chapter for you all. This was going to bee so much longer but I realized I could never fit in everything I wanted, so I cut it up. Next time we will be having some good old steamy fun, but first comes the meeting of the parents...

I now know how this fic will end for sure, and even though it's still quite a way away it's strange to know that one day it will have to finish. It's all very exciting, but I shan't spoil it for you. Until then, lots of kyman love and happiness to every one of you, especially the fabulous reviewers that make my day with their kind words - you inspire me more than you could know.

The sun's rays stretch wide across the morning sky, beautiful saffron and vermilion hues a beacon light to awaken the world. The first thing I register is the stiffness of my back, the dull ache of my joints. Then as I become more aware, falling from my sleep-induced haze, and I notice I'm not in my bed at all.

I sit up, the firm surface of the icy ground lessened by the tartan blanket that acts as a makeshift mattress. The smooth cashmere falls from my chest, pooling in my lap as I begin to absorb my surroundings. I hear the sweet bickering of morning birds, the fresh April dawn chorus enveloping our little corner of the woods completely. In the canopy I see the excited bustle of the morning wildlife, the occasional flash of a robin's red breast and the swoop of a blackbird's dark wing. Beside me, the smouldered ashes of Oakwood and bittersweet memories lie charred and black, long cooled since the death of the voracious fire. Another fire springs to mind – the one deep within, that consumes both my heart and soul alike when I dwell on it for too long.

It is a consuming fire, egged on by the presence of another.

Fittingly, I hear a groan beside me as the object of my affections reaches up to rub his sleepy eyes, mussing up his mousy russet locks with the sweep of a fatigued hand. He is my gasoline, my petrol bomb – like a searing alcohol but so much more intoxicating.

"Morning." He grumbles, sitting up so he can move in closer to me. We sit quietly for a moment, basking in the glow of the others body heat before I startle him with a loud yawn, still feeling the aftereffects of my decent nights rest. He watches me with this odd look in his eye… something bordering on reverence, a divine fascination. His hand finds my flushed cheek and before I can even fully register he draws me in, lips insistent against my own. I gladly let him in, kissing back with a vengeance as I feel his fingers weave their way through my hair. His tongue drags across mine, wet and hot yet somehow so incredibly pure… wholesome, even. It's if I'm being filled with love from the ground up, electricity flowing from the tips of my toes to my fingertips.

We eventually pull back, and I smile sheepishly as he pulls a disgruntled face.

"Yuck, morning breath." He complains, well-meaning but hinting at teasing.

"Oh please, like you're tasting any better." I scoff, waving my hand dismissively. "It happens to everyone."

"Whatever. I'm just glad we don't have any more goddamn schoolwork over the break… if I had to go to class today someone would probably have found themselves in A&E with a pencil in their eye."

I laugh cautiously, not quite sure how serious he is about the remark. It takes a moment for his words to absorb, until I snap up my head in shock and confusion.

"Wait… today is Saturday?" I question, slowly sobering up as I take in the implications.

"Of course. Did you hit your head or something? We have the whole week off too! Super long weekend for us."

"I guess I just forgot. Your mum is coming today too isn't she?" I ask, not wanting to pry but I can't remember whether she'd confirmed she'd visit or not. I don't want to sound cruel but after she didn't show up last time I can't help but want reassurance she'd come along.

"Yeah, she said she'd get here at half two. When's yours coming?"

"I think my dad's coming around three. Apparently my mum is sick so she can't make it, but he promised to come for us."

I try to bat away the nervous thoughts flying around in my head, to dismiss the nagging questions. Is she avoiding me? Does she hate me now? Is she so ashamed she doesn't want to be reminded I exist?

No… my father said she just has the flu, and there's no use questioning it. Everything is probably fine. Probably.

"No Jew bitch this time? How disappointing. I was hoping to catapult eggs at her stupid fucking hair."

"Shut up." I say out of principle, secretly wishing that he would. "She's my problem anyway, not yours. My dad is pretty reasonable; I should survive today if I'm lucky."

"Don't sweat it Kyle." He reassures me, standing up and reaching out his hand to offer to lift me from my seat. "I can hear your concern from over here; it's giving me a headache."

I pull myself up on his arm, his sturdy frame more than enough to offer plenty of support. I follow through with the movement, casting myself forward until I find my place in his arms. He chuckles at my sudden clinginess, inhaling a lungful of my scent as I bury my head in his chest.

"…You're really worried aren't you?" He states, less of a question but more of an assertion. His voice has dropped to a compassionate tone, and he presses tender kisses across my forehead. "It's going to be okay, you know."

"I know, it's just... ugh. I haven't seen them for a while, and last time they figured out about us. I guess I'm just worried that they'll not accept... this. I know my mother probably won't and I'm fine with that by now, I just really want my dad to be happy for me. He should be pleased I've moved on and found someone that makes me happy, Right?"

I look up at him to take in his response, and I see a pleased light in his eyes as his lips turn upward in an uncharacteristically timid smile.

"I make you happy?"

"Of course you do, idiot." I grin, cupping his cheek in my palm. "Did I not make it clear enough last night?"

"Touché, it just all seems so surreal. I'm not fucking stupid; I know full well you're way out of my league."

"You sound stupid. I would never give you the time of day if I thought you were undeserving or whatever." I snort at his claim, his underlying self-esteem issues peeking through the tough-man façade. "I'm here for you and you're going to have to get used to it, whether you like it or not."

Satisfied with my answer, he smiles wryly before slapping my ass unexpectedly. I yelp, half-heartedly glaring up at him as he laughs to himself.

"Why so cranky? You said you're all mine right? This incredible ass seems to be part of the equation."

I know he's just trying to cheer me up in his own twisted way, and I have to admit it's working. I let out a snigger in spite of myself, giving him a teasing light punch for his insolence.

"Not if you keep that up mister. I'm sure if you're good when I meet your mum and you help me with my war wounds after my dad shows up there might be a bit of a reward in it for you."

"I'm sold." He beams, lifting our joined hands so he can plant a promising peck to the back of my hand. I'm about to make a remark about how subservient he's being, but the thought is stopped in his track as he slobbers all over my hand, lapping at it with his unbrushed tongue.

"Gross dude," I groan, wiping my hand on my shirt as he grins devilishly, pleased to see me with a smile on my face. "After that little stunt you'll have to put that tongue to work elsewhere if you want to still have a chance at that reward."

"Gladly. I'm hardly opposed to a little lip service." He insinuates, hand finding its way to my waist. "We should head back before they send out the search parties, anyway."

"Whatever fatass, you're just afraid we'll miss out on lunch."

The first thing I see is Cartman's eyes. That same trademark glimmer, the swirling depths of rich chocolate with a saccharine honey glaze. Unlike her son's usual expression however, her face is devoid of bitterness. Her smile is warm and welcoming, lips painted a decadent red. Her looks are reminiscent of a Vogue covergirl, and fifteen years previously she would have most likely seemed at home on London's most exclusive catwalks. She is still undeniably beautiful, appearance withered slightly in her age. Traces of wrinkles threaten to emerge on her forehead, brunette hair lightened by a sporadic peppering of greying hairs.

She picks up speed as she sees us through the corridor, hurriedly signing in at reception and flashing a coy glance in the receptionist's direction. She half-jogs along, heels clacking against the elegant floor as she dashes into Eric's arms. It's easy to see where his looks had come from, and he rolls his eyes at me over her shoulder. He has a good bit of height on her, and as she draws in closer to his chest he rests his chin on her head, smiling to himself.

"Oh Poopsikins, it's so nice to finally see you! I bought you some of your favourite things and I baked you those flapjacks using the recipe you like. I even used less sugar so your special little man can have some."

"Ugh, nasty mum. Trying to unload all of that stupid healthy shit on me." Eric grumbles. He blushes intensely, eyes widening in shock as he grimaces at her word choice.

"You told her I was diabetic?" I chuckle, not willing to let the opportunity to embarrass him slip.

"I- I needed to warn her, you know. I told her of your many afflictions so she could prepare herself for meeting a gross Ginger Jew such as yourself." He tries to deflect it, well aware that he was caught out and that I'm far from convinced. "Your type are cheeky bastards, you know."

Unsurprised by her son's behaviour, she turns to face me with a genuine grin.

"And you must be Kyle, right? I've heard so much about you! It's wonderful to finally meet you in person."

"Yeah. You're…. Liane, right? Cartman showed me pictures. It's lovely to meet you too."

"Come on, assholes." Eric insists, tugging at my sleeve. "We should try and get a good place to sit."

We end up in one of the large meeting rooms, light streaming through the skylight above as we take our seats at one of the tables. It's mostly deserted apart from one or two other families sat at the far side, captivated by their own discussions.

"So, how is school going Eric?" Liane queries, wasting no time getting into conversation.

"It's fine, mostly the same old shit. Nothing overly remarkable ever happens here."

"Really? Well I've heard that your German teacher wants you to work as a tutor. I'm so proud! I bought along some of your older books you used when you were little for the other pupils, they might help."

It was the first I'd heard of it, and I can't stop a proud smile sneaking its way onto my lips. I knew he could do well if he just applied himself. He's far from stupid – just a little lackluster when it comes to effort.

"Chill mum, it's not that big of a deal. Anyway, I need the money and I didn't finish this stupid essay she wanted so I can do with raising my grade – at least if I get one A* it'll look a lot better on my CV and I won't be flipping fucking burgers once I get out of this shithole."

Liane just smiles, pleased he'd done well as she offers him a flapjack. He dives in, searching for the largest one he can before leaning back in his chair, dropping a few stray oats on his shirt. She offers me the box, and I teak a half of a slice out of fear of the sugar content. They rattle on about his studies, her family and his plans to audition for the upcoming musical production. I have to admit, he would make a really sexy Sweeney Todd – not that I'd tell him that in front of his mother. Their conversation is so easy, so friendly and relaxed. I can't help but feel a little jealous, seeing her talk to him as if he was a friend rather than an employee or someone incapable of living their own life and making their own decisions. I take a bite of the treat, and it's almost as sweet as she is. The oats are soft and the honey syrup mixture seemingly melts on my tongue. Delicious. Before I know it the whole thing is gone, and I'm reaching for another.

We end up discussing me, my dreams and aspirations, my hobbies. I'm not under any pressure – she's genuinely curious and I can tell that she'd love me no matter what I'd said. The fact Eric loves me is more than enough for her, and it touches me more than she could know. The time flies as we laugh and try to embarrass Eric, sharing baby stories and chuckling over stupid jokes. At some point Eric's arm finds its way over my shoulders, pulling me closer on the sofa as I rest my head on his chest. She doesn't even blink, completely unfazed by the blatant display of male-on-male affection.

Oh god, my mother has an awful lot to learn from this woman.

We lost track of time, and before we knew it it was rapidly approaching three and the visitors were being encouraged to start saying their farewells. She pulls up her bag, overflowing with goodies and Cartman's eyes light up like fairy lights at the prospect of presents. She gives him several items ranging from the more innocent – Galaxy caramel chocolate and marshmallow scented bodywash, to the more questionable – a bottle of Jack Daniels and a carton of cigarettes. I can't help but raise my eyebrow at her endorsement of his unhealthy habits, watching him incredulously as he shoves them into his backpack. Just as I think she's done, she rummages deeper into her purse, producing a smaller carton. It takes me a minute to understand why Eric suddenly appeared as if he was on the verge of choking, but once I inspect a little closer there's no doubting that she'd deemed it necessary to give us a box of flavoured condoms.

"Jesus Christ mum." He groans, rolling his eyes. "You really don't need to do that."

"I just want my baby to be safe-"

"God, I can get my own! Kahl's hardly a fucking prostitute, he won't give me turbo-AIDS or dick cancer, and there certainly isn't going to be any children. I don't need you to stay on top if this stuff for me, damn it."

His cheeks are tinged and undoubtable shade of pink, and I can't help but grin in spite of my own embarrassment. He's insanely cute when he gets all shy, and it certainly doesn't happen often. However, I can tell he's not exactly comfortable and in an act of mercy I try to distract him."

"Look, she means well. Just be glad she cares that much." I interject, patting his thigh reassuringly. "Anyway, you better be sharing that shower gel with me – it sounds like it smells delicious."

"Typical, trying to Jew me out of my shit. I guess you can try some."

One of the receptionists comes in, gesturing for the remaining visitors to hurry up. We stand to leave, exchanging hugs and kind words. Eric seems rather distressed once she smothers him, insisting he calls her more often. His cheeks blaze a bright red, and once she releases him his face settles into a faint grimace to try and keep up appearances. She turns to me, offering a hug. I'm touched by the gesture, pleased that she'd been so accepting of me. I'm a little taller than her – not quite as much as Eric – but it's still a comforting embrace, soothed by her motherly warmth and floral perfume.

"He really likes you, you know." She murmurs, inches from my ear. "He's not the best at being open about his feelings, but a mother can always tell. He's more sensitive than he lets on – you mean an awful lot to him."

She draws back, catching my eye. I smile at her reassuringly, silently thanking her for her encouragement and honesty.

"Now you keep an eye on him, understand? He needs someone to keep him in check." She loudly chuckles, raising her voice back to normal levels as she pats me fondly on the shoulder.

"Don't worry; I'm on top of it. If he was running free I dread to imagine what would happen."

We meander toward the exit, moving slowly as we continue our animated discussion, putting in early predictions for which students will make the final cut for Sweeney Todd and discussing the possibility of Eric going to Italy with the school orchestra. Just as we approach the main exit, a familiar voice calls my name.

"Kyle! Hey, I was wondering when you'd turn up. Ike was here five minutes ago."

Oh God – it begins. I try to quell my nerves with a falsified smile, hoping that it will lift my mood and pacify him.

"It's good to see you… but I'm surprised you had another visitor. I'm pleased to meet you, Miss..?"

"Cartman, Liane Cartman." She responds, offering her hand. They exchange a brief shake, remaining cordial. It hits me that they are complete strangers, and I can't help but feel concerned that if he knew why I'd been with her he wouldn't be quite so polite. Unnerved by the situation, I cast a glance to Eric, who returns my gaze with an apologetic look in his eye. I can tell that he's preparing a story in his head, devising an excuse to help make this whole situation seem as inconspicuous as possible. I know he hates to hold himself back and deny our relationship, and it's reassuring to see him prepared to go out of his way to make sure I'm comfortable and not forced in to anything I'm not ready for.

But… I don't want him to feel obliged to do that. I love him, and I'm not afraid to face it anymore. Being with him is perfection. I'm so complete with him by my side, and there's no way this could be wrong when it feels so insanely right. We shouldn't have to be ashamed of who we are and how we feel, and I want him to know it. Hell, I want the whole world to know it. There, I said it. I love him. I'm in love with Eric Cartman, and I've never been happier.

"I wasn't expecting anyone else to come and see you, Kyle." He begins, and I can feel the light condescending edge to his voice. "You should have told me so I could have come along sooner. I'm sure it would be good to meet her properly if she's a friend of yours."

"She's just-" Eric starts, eager to jump to my defence.

"My boyfriend's mother." I interject, resting my hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. His eyes widen in surprise, looking to me to make sure I hadn't gone mad. His gaze is questioning – are you sure? – and the response is clear in my determined expression.

Dad looks at me like I'd grown a second head for a moment, taken aback by my abruptness. His eyes dart between us, watching us both before his eyes land on my hand, poised affectionately on his shoulder. Ike however seems far from speechless, juvenile sniggers breaking through the gaps in his fingers as he tries to contain his amusement by covering his mouth. Noticing his reaction, he raises his brows in a silent warning. It seems to work for a few moments, Ike trying to contain himself just to dissolve into another fit of giggles seconds later, more blatant than the first.

"Well, that wasn't… expected. I'd figured you were seeing someone, I just hadn't realized it was serious enough to warrant meeting the relatives."

I'm not sure how to respond. The way he words it makes it seem as if he is on the verge of bowing on one knee and asking for my hand, and judging by his suspicious tone that's most likely what he's expecting. I guess we're 'serious' now, especially after all we've been through to get to his point – I'm certainly serious about how I feel about him. Meeting his mother seemed like a natural step, especially with the two of them being so close.

"It is. It's only his mother anyhow, we're hardly asking for her blessing to marry. She's a lovely woman and I feel it's important to get to know the relatives of the people you love. If she makes him happy then I want her in my life too."

He pauses for a minute, looking back up to Liane before taking in my expression, searching for a hint of insincerity or uncertainty. He finds none, and seems satisfied that I am genuine about the whole situation. He knows how stubborn I can be - and in a situation like this there no use trying to change my mind.

"Okay." He nods, a diluted smile tainting his features. The corners of his lips dart up quickly after a moment, a sparkle of amusement in his eye. "As long as he makes you happy, I'm happy. I'll even give you my blessing or whatever and try to win round your mother, just… make sure this one doesn't piss in the plant pots."

I snicker, tension leaving my body. My laugh is partly amusement at the memory yet a large proportion is sheer relief he seems to be okay with everything. I don't want to have animosity between me and my parents, regardless of our petty disagreements. They're my family and I will always love them regardless of their acceptance of my life.

Cartman, however, seems rather disturbed.

"…Plant pots? Should I even ask?"

"It's a Stan thing, don't worry about it." I reassure him, aware we must seem like lunatics. "It wasn't exactly funny at the time but it became an in-joke almost."

He shakes his head fondly, ruffling my hair – much to my dismay, might I add. I bat his hand away, scalding him for his immature behaviour. He seems entertained by my reaction, but he can't judge. His hair seems to always be tempting and silken and oh-so inviting, whilst maintaining the mess of curls upon my head is a full-time job.

"You weirdo. Well, we shouldn't keep you. I'll see you later Kyle, okay? If you still want to we can have some fun with that thing you wanted to try." His voice is sweet, teasing in an almost sing-song way; full of affluent delight and affection that never fails to bring a goofy grin to my face.

"Pfft, what was that?" Ike queries, living up to his reputation as an evil little shit. "Sucking his dick?"

"Ike!" Cries my dad, seeming more disturbed than offended by his crude language. "Just keep out of it."

I briefly consider telling him I already have just to see the look on his face, but that's not something you really say in front of your father. I settle with denial, figuring it's the best bet. I have time to rip on him later.

"Come on, you at least kissed it a little."

You've got to love little brothers.

A.N. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'm not too pleased with it but after the last few chapters that were pretty heavy this feels a lot more light-hearted, but hopefully it works fine. Of course, next chapter will have some NSFWness and Ike antics.

I've been meaning to add some more Creek but the story hasn't allowed for it recently, but in the future certain events will pull them much further into the spotlight so we will see plenty more from them in time.

- NocturnalLament