Timeless
Chapter Three: Eric Cartman
Summary: Kyle, uncomfortable with Christophe's attention decides to come clean, and in the process runs into an old friend.
Disclaimer: See first chapter
Warnings: Slash, grammar mistakes on my part, and some pretty foul language.
Authors notes: I apologize a head of time. While I had the whole story planned out, I've begun to derail from that layout. The story is evolving much differently than I imagined, and for that reason I beg forgiveness for contradictions, mistakes and pretty much anything else that doesn't make sense. I'm rearranging and trying to make things fit that didn't before. Stick with me while I work the kinks out.
Chapter Three: Eric Cartman
Kyle found it almost impossible to sleep. He spent most of the night wide awake, clutching a pillow to his chest. Occasionally his eyes would wander to Christophe's front door, and brief thoughts of running fast and far invaded his mind. Yet he held his ground on the soft sofa, having refused Christophe's bed.
Part of him was nervous, even if it was silly to be. This wasn't the first time he had spent the night at Chrisophe's apartment, and when he did it usually wasn't on the French man's sofa. But something about their confrontation in the parking lot had unnerved him. It was as if for the first time he was truly seeing how ….well, he couldn't think of the right words for Chrisophe's behavior, but it certainly had shaken him. Possessive, demanding, urgent, desperate …dangerous. Those were the words he could come up with, even if they weren't completely accurate.
Nearly twice he had reached for the phone. He wondered if Stan was worried--of course he was. The caring football player had to be worried out of his mind. Kyle hadn't said he wasn't coming home, only that he was working late. Did Stan think something horrible had happened to him? Did Stan think he was hurt? Was Stan out looking for him?
Kyle felt like trash. He couldn't believe he had allowed himself to take things so far. He was running and hiding from Stan, not to mention lying to him. He found himself near a man who had a strong interest in him, far too often and was allowing other people to manipulate him.
He realized now he ought to just tell Stan the truth. While his mother might be the one causing the friction in their relationship to amplify, the lies were at the very beginning of it. He should never have taken Christophe up on his offer. It had led to nothing but troubles, and left him feeling like crap. Maybe if he told Stan everything the male could forgive him and they could attempt to salvage their relationship. And if that happened, Kyle promised himself he'd deal with his mother.
Just past six in the morning Kyle gathered up his belongings. He grabbed his shoes, slipped them on silently and ran a quick hand through his hair. After only a brief pause he disable Chrisophe's alarm and slipped out of the townhouse.
It was a long walk back to the restaurant, and it was deathly cold. His jacket seemed far too thin and he realized he had lost his gloves somewhere. He couldn't feel his nose, ears or hands for that matter, and yet it didn't bother him so much. Soon he lost feeling in his toes, and he realized it was snowing. The snow melted on him and he became drenched, not half way to the restaurant. When he passed the Ice Cream Palace he wondered if he'd even make it to his destination. It was becoming increasingly colder, not to mention harder to breathe.
A particularly strong gust of wind nearly knocked him off his feet and he leaned against a building. Stan was always telling him he never stopped to think. If he had, he wouldn't be out in the beginning of a blizzard, with one coat and no hope of finding somewhere to duck in from the snow. There was a strong chance is legs weren't going to support him much longer, and that meant going down onto the snow covered ground. If that happened, his fate was sealed.
"How much for a blow job, fag?"
An annoying voice shook him out of his thoughts. "Not enough money in the world for you, fat ass." He was thinking much slower, even if he mouth wasn't waiting. Then the voice sunk in, and he realized whom it belonged to. "Cartman? What the hell are you doing here?"
Kyle tried to think. Cartman wasn't supposed to be anywhere near here. The little asshole had actually done something with his life. The jerk had skipped right over college, and with his mother's bank account had founded his own company. Within the span of a mere three years he had expanded through the whole United States. Last time he had heard from Eric Cartman the arrogant businessman was lying on a beach in Maui, drinking margaritas.
"I'll tell you once you get your Jew ass in my car." Kyle eyed the black BMW cautiously. "Hurry it up, I don't have all day. And try not to touch anything!"
Kyle was thankful for the expensive heater in the car, even if it did little. Buckled in Kyle took in the appearance of his old friend, and noted he changes. Cartman was certainly in the prime of his life. He had slimmed down some, but was still a bit on the heavy side, though not dangerously. Even seated it was apparent he had gained extra height somewhere, and his hair shined even in the dull winter. A flawless face and the evident confidence had Kyle stunned. Eric Cartman was actually attractive, and that was saying something.
"Business brought me here." Eric explained, tone of voice giving way to a very hidden reasons.
Kyle caught this. "God, Eric, what're you doing? Selling drugs?" Eric just glared.
"So what's your problem? Even you know better than to wander the streets when it's this cold."
"I was going to my car. I didn't think the storm would roll in so fast. Plus, I'd rather have taken my chance on the streets than at Chrisophe's apartment."
"What?" Eric stopped at a particularly long red light. "You and Stan broke up? You fags were inseparable in high school."
"Shut it, you asshole, you're one to talk," Kyle reminded him.
Eric corrected, "I am multitalented, idiot. I make the girls and the boys moan, and don't get pissy because you can't."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Stan and I have not broken up. I'm just not sure where we stand." Kyle twisted his hands in his lap, and looked over to stare Eric down. "Cartman, we've never been the best of friends, and we've hardly ever gotten along, but," and at this Eric turned to look at him. "You've always been brutally honest, and I appreciate that."
Eric gave him a sobering look. "Something's seriously wrong?"
Kyle nodded. "I fucked up, and I'm stuck."
With a low growl Eric turned sharply onto a side street and parked. "You owe me, Jew. Now spit it all out."
And without thinking twice Kyle told him everything. How his mother was breaking them apart, how he and Stan were fighting every day, and Christophe's interest in him. He mentioned softly he was spending a lot of time at Chrisophe's but did not include his reason. He was sure to add Stan's suspicions, and finished with Christophe's strange behavior.
"Last night I decided nothing is worth risking the relationship I have with Stan, but by that time Chrisophe wasn't willing to let me go. I'm not saying he forced me, but it certainly felt like it. He just gave me this look that made me so cold, and so scared. I'm not a whiny little pussy, Eric, but I sure felt like it at that moment. When he shoved me against that car I thought the worst, and I saw it in his eyes, too. At his apartment he blocked the front door off practically, and he--" Kyle looked away, not willing to share the rest of the story.
Eric sighed. He'd get it out of Kyle eventually. "Are you going to tell Stan?"
"No," Kyle shook his head, coughing deeply. He could already feel himself getting sick. "It would be wrong. Christophe has always been there for me when Stan couldn't, and lately he's done a lot for me. Plus, Chrisophe has never--" He wanted to say forced him, but after the previous night that wasn't possible.
"Last night I got the feeling--" Kyle tried to continue, but just couldn't. "Eric, I don't know what to do. I've dug myself into a deep hole. While I'd never suspect Chrisophe of doing anything to me I didn't want, last night I was really deathly scared. The way he was touching me and talking to me was just wrong. It was so different than all the other times we'd been together."
While it was obvious Kyle Brovflovski wasn't Eric Cartman's favorite person, they had been ….friends for many, many years. They knew more about each other than probably necessary, and despite it all, they did care what happened to the other. That said, Eric was beginning to actually worry for Kyle. He had hardly ever seen the redhead so shaken, and there was truly some conflict in his mind. Something was working Kyle Broflovski over, and rather hard, nor was Christophe helping the situation.
"What did he do to you last night?"
His head was pounding, his chest was aching and despite the heater, he didn't feel any warmer.
"Nothing, really." Kyle squirmed, an indication he was lying.
"Don't make me beat it out of you."
Kyle said, "The whole night Christophe just made me feel weird and uncomfortable. I feel so goddamned stupid. I'm accusing my friend of wanted to take advantage of me, pissing my mother off, fucking up the perfect relationship and--"
He couldn't help it. He didn't want to. Cry seemed like the only thing to do in the current situation. Curling in on himself he sobbed, harder than ever before.
"Suck it up, you damn Jew."
He hadn't expected Eric to comfort him, but he certainly hadn't wanted that little comment.
"You appreciate my honestly, right? This is exactly what you need to do." Kyle's eyes were red and splotchy, and his vision blurry, but he managed to give Eric an encouraging nod. "Go sit your ass down with the three people you've either fucked over, or are being fucking over by. You tell Christophe to step off, tell your mother to fuck off, and you come clean to Stan. If you don't want to cry yourself into an early grave, that's what you do, Broflovski."
"It isn't that simple."
Eric didn't know the entirety of the situation, and while he would have handled the situation very differently, he understood what Kyle was saying. Christophe was ….hard to understand, and even harder to avoid when he locked onto you. Kyle's mom was …well, she was a bit, giant, uber bitch. He couldn't quite remember all the words to a childhood song about her, but he remembered enough. She made life hell for everyone purposely or not. And even harder was Stan. It was always harder when you loved the person.
They drove the rest of the way to Kyle's apartment in silence.
It seemed Kyle's health only worsened as they drove, and by the time they arrived in front of the apartment, the Jewish male was nearly unconscious. Eric made a few, rather rude comments and gathered Kyle up. He was less than careful as he dragged Kyle up the stairs to the top apartment, and nearly dropped the man as he leaned on the door bell.
Stan opened the door. He stood in shock, confused as to why his boyfriend was feverish, and collapsed on the ground, while Eric Cartman was huffing in an effort to catch is breath, doubled over.
"I've got something that belongs to you, Marsh."
"What's going on? Where'd you find him?" With fresh strength Stan was able to heft Kyle into his arms, allowing the fevered man to rest his head on a warm shoulder. In all honestly he wanted to drop the Jewish boy to the ground, give him a few kicks and then lock him out of their apartment. And he might have done just that if Stan hadn't realized just how out of it Kyle was. His boyfriend was certainly disorientated, and through half-lidded eyes he gazed around with an unfocused curiosity.
"Kenny! Help me out here?" Stan gestured for his guest to grab the door to the bedroom and open it for him. "Can you get his shoes off?" Stan was in the process of removing his boyfriend's wet clothing, with Kenny helping him.
"He was just walking around, feeling sorry for himself," Eric called from the bedroom doorway. "I made him get in my car." For one of the few times in his life, Eric Cartman felt himself unsure of how to approach a subject. So instead he merely watched Stan fuss over Kyle, making sure the male was settled and on the road to recovery.
When Stan closed the bedroom door, separating them from Kyle, Eric had finally found the appropriate way to begin.
"Stan, we have to talk." He greeted Kenny quickly as Stan fixed him a cup of coffee. "It's about Kyle."
Stan nodded for him to continue. "I take it you have a hunch why he didn't come home last night, or why he was wandering this morning."
Eric Cartman had no idea his coming words would begin a war of sorts. He had no way of knowing words could be so powerful. "It's about Christophe, and what he forced on Kyle last night. It's about what I think he did to Kyle."