Tom Cruise

The sunlight shone through Cartman's open window. I squinted my eyes and questioned why the hell the window was open in the first place. Just as I was about to get up, Cartman gripped tighter onto me. We were still in the same position as last night, just a bit scuffed up from sleep. I sighed and decided to stay next to him a little longer, telling myself to not fall asleep so we aren't late. Cartman started talking in his sleep. At first, I thought he was awake because of how coherent it was, but after I responded to him and he didn't acknowledge my answer, I came to the conclusion he must still be asleep. I know it was wrong, but I started to listen and try to figure out what he was dreaming. It's not like I could distract myself any other way.

"Down here. Hurry, he's coming." Cartman said. It sounds like he's having a pretty thrilling dream.

"No, don't! Please!". Uh oh, sounds like a nightmare.

I scooted up to meet his sleeping face, wondering if I could soothe him in his sleep. His eyebrows were pinched in fear, and his breathing grew quicker.

"Don't shoot. I need him." This may sound a bit egotistical, but I think he's dreaming about me. I mean, who else would he be dreaming about? I brought up a hand and started to stroke his cheek, hoping it would help.

"Shoot me. Do it pussy!" I think I should wake him. It's getting close to the alarm anyways.

"Cartman, wake up." I said, rocking him. He started to stir, then his eyes fluttered open and I could tell he was happy to see me okay. "You sounded like you were having a nightmare." I said quietly.

"I wasn't."

"Yeah you were. I heard you."

"It was just a weird off-brand action movie were I was the main character. Not much of a nightmare at all really. Thanks for waking me at the best part."

"Whatever. We need to get up for school."

Cartman groaned and let go of my hips, allowing me to get up and stretch. He lied there for a few more seconds, and I've basically accepted that this is just his morning routine. Get up, lie there for a few more minutes, then rush into your clothes and stuff.

I dug through my bag, grabbing a pair of orange boxers, some jeans and a white tee, taking with me to the bathroom so I could shower. I locked the bathroom door behind me, and started to shed my clothes, making sure not to look up at the mirror as I did so. Listen, I'm not insecure or anything, just a little discontent with how I look body-wise. I'm not big or muscular, mostly skin and bones. I've got some meat on me, much more than Kenny and Butters, but it's mostly on my thighs and hips, making me look really fucking weird. I'm almost curvy, like a chick. My dad said it's just because I need to hit a gym and get a bigger chest, but if my default is like this, then I think it has nothing to do with my lack of exercise. Maybe it's just because I've spent so much time sitting at my desk studying, the fat of my ass spread like play dough and now I've got hips like that of a Disney princess.

It took me a little of a minute to figure out how Cartman's shower worked, and I just mindlessly turned knobs and hoped it was the right one. Finally, the water got somewhat warm, and I stepped in, letting the water tickle my face and chest. It was a little hotter than I would've liked, but I can't afford to be picky. I might end up messing up and making it way too cold. The droplets of the shower continually smacks my face, washing away the muck and dead skin cells that built up on my body though the month. I haven't showered in a long time, due to the lack of motivation, the unpleasant feeling of disgust everytime I did, and mostly just because I didn't have any clean clothes to change into since I hadn't done my laundry in awhile. I know, I'm fucking gross, and I let Cartman cuddle me last night. Oh god, he undoubtedly was able to smell my nasty, greasy hair. Oh Moses, he probably thinks a fucking nasty boyfriend.

Wait, boyfriend?

Yeah. After last night, there's no denying that he's my boyfriend. The feeling is mutual, so there's no reason to hold back.

Eric Theodore Cartman is my boyfriend.

I never thought I'd be able to say that. The idea would've never even been in my mind in April. Back then, I was just a empty-headed nerd, doing as I was told. The kid who never talked to anyone, never went anywhere. I only ever occasionally raised my hand in class, just to briefly remind everyone that I'm there too. I was almost positive that I was gonna graduate alone. No graduation party, no congrats from anyone, just getting my certificate and heading home to start filling out college applications. Then, the blessed day. Well, it wasn't exactly blessed, more shocking if anything.

That day, I didn't even want to see Cartman in that hospital bed. I didn't want to give him my pathetic apologizes because I wasn't there, when I couldn't have known. Even if I was there for him, chances are he wouldn't have said anything anyways.

I wonder what would've happened if I bailed like I wanted to. Would I be where I am now? Probably so, cause no matter how hard I try to avoid it, my fate usually finds me one way or another. Especially from Cartman.

When I got out of the shower, I immediately headed downstairs to greet Liane. She was still asleep on the couch, and I got an idea. Maybe not a good idea, but an idea nonetheless.

15 minutes later, Cartman came down the steps, waking his mom and the two came into the kitchen. I was super messy with pancake batter dotted on my face and shirt. There was flour on the counter and floor, along with a few spills of water and broken egg shells. I had a spatula in my right hand and the frying pan, in a 25 degree angle, in the other, trying to find the exact moment to flip the pancake and not mess it up like the other two. The first one came out undercooked and crumbly, the second was overcooked and hard as a rock. I was at my wits end, and was about to throw a tantrum like a two year old if this one came out wrong.

"Kyle, what are you doing?" Liane asked sleepily. Cartman just stared at me like I was a diamond in the rough.

"I'm trying to make pancakes for you two. It's the least I could do." in that moment, I flipped the pancake carefully, revealing the, almost perfect, browned pancake. I smiled delightfully, and almost forgot to flip it again in excitement. When I did, I made a decent, fluffy pancake. Even Cartman was impressed with how perfectly brown I got one of the sides to be. I got a little over my head and made another one, promising that Cartman would love this one so much, he'd just have to eat it. The pancake wasn't too big, or too undercooked. It was pretty good, but not as fluffy as the other one.

"You didn't add enough sugar." Cartman commented, chewing a small piece.

"Shut up, I think I did pretty well for my first time."

Cartman slammed his hands on the table, startling me and Liane, who was drinking a simple cup of tea.

"You've never made pancakes before?!"

"Well, no. My mom believed that a man had no place in the kitchen, and didn't really let any of us guys in the kitchen while she cooked. I've only ever eaten pancakes on specific holidays anyways."

"Jesus Christ, why didn't you tell me you were being held hostage. I would've gotten you out of there much sooner if I knew what kind of hell they force onto you. That sounds like a place of fucking nightmares!"

"I get it, my house sucks. Well, I don't live there anymore, so don't worry about it."

"The only thing I worrying about is how much I'm gonna have to teach you about cooking. Wait 'till you hear about deserts Kahl."

"I know what desert is prick."

"Did you ever get any?"

"Just cause I know what it is doesn't mean my family did it. Like, I know about Christmas, but my family doesn't celebrate that."

"Oh yeah that reminds me, we're not doing that Hanukkah shit in this house. This year, you're celebrating Christmas."

I'm actually weirdly excited to hear I can finally take part in Christmas this year. I've alway been outcasted during that time of the year. I'd go to town and see all the lights, hear the Christmas carols and see all the other kids eating candy canes and decorating trees. I felt alone, since I couldn't partake in the traditions like everyone else in town. The town was always the brightest around Christmas time, and I could never enjoy it. My parents always said to be proud that we have this holiday all to ourselves, but I don't want a holiday all to myself. I wanted to be able to celebrate with my friends, and play Christmas games with them. I wanted to be able to sing Christmas songs, and eat candy canes, but I never could. Now, Cartman's giving me that chance.

Wait, why are we talking about Christmas. It's literally May.

"Dude, it's May. Christmas is 7 months away."

"So, I'm just giving you a heads up Kahl.". I sighed and took the last bite of my breakfast. I looked down at my lap and realized that I had pancake batter everywhere. I groaned and retreated upstairs to change. There wasn't many clothes to choose from because I hadn't thought to wash them the night before, so I settle for stealing one of Cartman's old shirts and hiding it under my jacket. What he doesn't know can't hurt him, right? I picked a light blue shirt that dropped to my thighs, and resorted to tucking it into my jeans. After shoving my hat back on, I came back downstairs and found Cartman had already left. After groaning again, I headed out in a rush, suddenly stopped by something holding me back by my waist. Cartman was waiting by the door for me.

"Woah, slow down Kahl."

"I thought you already left."

"Why would I do that?"

I guess it does sound sort of silly that I thought he'd just run off without me. I felt his thick fingers wipe at my cheek and I looked at him confused. He smirked and said "You had batter on your face.". I rolled my eyes and grabbed at his hands, removing them from my waist.

"Okay, you can let go now. Someone might see."

"And that's a problem, why?"

"Because I don't want to come out of the closet yet."

Cartman snickered, "Okay Tom Cruise."

"What?"

He didn't answer my question, and started to walk towards the bus stop, me following behind him.

"So, why don't you want to come out yet? It's not like you can get any worse than getting kicked out of your childhood home."

"I just don't, okay?"

"Come on Kahl. We're supposed to trust each other right? I told you my trauma, why won't you tell me this?"

"Don't play that victim bullshit on me Cartman. You and I both know you still have your secrets."

"Name one."

"This morning. What were you dreaming about?"

"You're still on about that?"

"Yeah. If something's worrying you, I deserve to know."

"Fine, I was dreaming that Stan was chasing us with a gun and was about to shoot you, but then you grabbed the gun and shot me so you could run off with Stan and live happily ever after. Happy now?"

I stopped. Cartman looked pissed that he had to reveal that to me, but I could tell he was embarrassed about it. That probably means that he knows how silly he sounds, but I just want to confirm that I'm no leaving. Just to quiet his subconscious.

"I'm not leaving you Cartman. Stan's got nothing on our relationship."

"I know! After all that stuff you said last night, I don't doubt you one bit. Apparently, my dumb brain just likes to mess with me sometimes."

"That usually means that you're still worried about it."

"Well, I'm not. I don't feel worried. I feel pretty secure right now."

"Alright, but if you ever start to doubt yourself, just tell me. If we're in public, just tap your elbow or something."

"That's lame, but enough about that. Why don't you want to come out yet?"

"It's a dumb reason."

"Well, I told you my dumb dream, so we'll be even."

"Alright, I just don't want people to think I'm...an idiot."

"Really? How so?"

"Like, remember Heidi?"

"Course I remember Heidi, what about her?"

"When word got out that you and her were dating, people constantly put her down for caring about you. I don't think I can handle that kind of judgement. Not right now anyways. I mean, Stan has already started insulting me for it, and he was supposed to be my best friend."

"Stan doesn't count. He likes you too, so of course he's jealous. What about Butters and Kenny? Don't they deserve to know?"

"Maybe so, but I just don't want to take any risks. You know how Butters can get with keeping secrets."

"Trust me, he can keep his mouth shut at a price."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

The bus pulled up and we boarded, Cartman taking his usual seat next to Butters. I don't get how Butters somehow gets on before us when his house is farther from the bus than Cartman's house.

Our house.

I sat down at an empty seat, staring out the window and watching the houses go by as we traveled to the school. I tried to make out what Butters and Cartman were talking about a few seats behind me, but I could barely hear a word with all the chatter around me. I almost wanted to tell everyone to shut up, but that's completely out of my element, so I just bite my tongue and focus my selective hearing on Butters voice, hoping to decipher his words. By the time I had gotten a few sentences figured out, we pulled up to the school and started to crowd into the building.

I managed to squeeze my way through the bus and into the building like all the other students. I caught Stan at my locker,and groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day. I trudged over to my locker, debating internally on whether or not I should ignore him. I calmly stood at my locker, quietly putting in the combination while Stan tried to talk to me. I tuned him out and was determined to get to class today. He shook my shoulder violently.

"Kyle, I'm not going this again. Can we just talk?"

I took a deep breath, sounding more like a growl than a breath, and turned to meet his eyes.

"Everytime we 'talk', you basically insult me and ruin my whole day. If anything, you're the one manipulating me Stan."

"Kyle, your not listening."

"No, I'm done listening to you. The next time I see you, it better be because you want to apologise. Otherwise, don't come near me."

"Kyle, don't be dramatic. If we don't talk, then nothing will be solved."

"That's the thing, you can't ever just 'talk' to me! You have to try and convince me to think how you do, not even considering my side of the story for a second! Can you just leave me alone?!"

"I'm not leaving until we talk this out."

Stan grabbed my wrist, holding me in place and preventing me from leaving the conversation. I dropped my books to pull away from his grasp, but he's got a strong grip. Probably from playing football and baseball.

"Fucking let go Stan!"

"I don't want to make you talk Kyle, but you're making it pretty damn difficult."

Suddenly, Stans hand let go of mine, and I heard a bang erupt from the lockers. I looked up, and Cartman was holding Stan up against my locker, his arm pressed against Stans neck. I could see the pure hatred in his eyes. He looked fucking terrifying, his pupils are pinpoints and his eyes are wide with anger. He looks like he's gonna actually murder Stan.

"Don't fucking touch him. If he says 'let go', you fucking do it! Do you understand?!" Cartman growled, venom tracing his voice. Stan shook in fear under him, but kept a strong front, trying not to show how scared he was. I'd be surprised if he didn't piss his pants.

After I composed myself, I figured that Cartman might get in big trouble if the teacher catch him, plus we've already caused a crowd, so I grabbed his free hand and looked at him pleadingly,

"Cartman, let him go. He's not worth it."

Cartman looked back at Stan for a second, before removing his arm and letting Stan drop to the not the best course of action, and I'll probably scold Cartman for it later, but I know he was just doing it to protect me, and a part of me can't stay mad at him for that.

A small part.

The other part of me is gonna lecture him into the dirt, cause even though Stan's being a huge asshole right now, he's still my friend.

I guess he can't help it if he's jealous of Cartman. Maybe I should talk to him.

Why do I make this realisation after this all happens?

Cartman came to my side and tried to grab my hand, but I smacked him away and sighed.

"Stan, if you wanted to talk, then forcing me to stay close to you when I refuse isn't how you should've done it. If it'll get you to stop acting like an idiot, then we can talk. Call me tonight, and if I hang up at some point, you have no right to force me to talk when I'm not ready. Okay?"

Stan clutched at his throat painfully, and winced. Then he nodded and quickly walked away. I'm definitely scolding Cartman later.

Sorry it's pretty short. I put the rest of the school day in the next chapter on my doc, so that's how it's gonna go. No questions asked.

I'm trying to make Stan and Kyle on okay terms, but it's sort of difficult considering Stan is trying to get Kyle away from Cartman. That will be further elaborated on in the next chapter. Along with that will be, you guessed it, more of Kyle being in denial! It's not easy dating the most hated person in your town and whose tormented you since preschool.

I'll try to get it out when I can, but I doubt it will be done by tomorrow because of school. Thankfully, we have Wednesday off, so I can type till I perish.

~Craigory

p.s. Did you see what I did with the light blue shirt thing? You'd need to have read 'Kyle in Chains' to understand why Kyle chose that shirt specifically. Also, Tom Cruise? I know, I'm a genius!