Disclaimer: We do not own, as if we could own something like South Park. Shudder It's too twisted for our imaginations... but that doesn't mean we don't have fun playing with it. :D
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Teetering over the edge, past memories and lives are stirred and a love lost can still burn brighter than any flame. (Joint fic)
Author's Note: HERE BE SLASH, Don't like? DON'T READ!
If you don't want to read the rest of the notes, scroll until you get to the actual fic.
This fic is different from other fics. Firstly, we two authors have completely different styles. Secondly, it will be dealing with past lives, if you can't handle that, please turn around or hit the back button. Thirdly, it is multipairing, so far the pairings we know will be in here are Christophe/Kyle, Stan/Wendy, Stan/Kyle, and Kenny/Rebecca. There will probably be more…
Fourthly, we know where this story ends, but we know how it gets there. We also know what we're going into; all we need to know now is how we need to get there. It'll be a bumpy ride and I hope you enjoy it.
This chapter's written by Me-Ladie. Enjoy!
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Chapter Two – Connection
Suicide was not something Kyle would ever contemplate. Even as he stood on the bridge railing the wind blowing through his hair he didn't think about jumping. He didn't want to die, sure his life wasn't heaven, but it wasn't as bad as others.
He had to thank Kenny for his positive outlook; Kenny had a hard life compared to the other boys in the small town of South Park. When he was younger, Kyle admired Kenny for what he had to handle, but now that he was older, Kyle could see the repercussions that it had on his friend. Kenny had grown promiscuous, and though most young men experimented, Kenny took this to a new level, until he dated Rebecca Cotswold.
She had been Kyle's girlfriend first; they'd dated for three months. She had grown up nicely, and had curves in all the right places, though Kyle never actually fell in love with her, he did love her. He'd always known that, though when he found the two latched onto each other during Stan's birthday party, he hated them. After a while Kyle got over her, just watching them together and how surprisingly happy they were bought him hope. Kenny deserved that happiness after everything that'd happened; he'd remained strong.
Kyle admired him for that, Kenny taught him, subconsciously, to value life. Kyle valued his life, and began to indulge himself in little thrills. Leaving his bedroom untidy, talking back to his mother soon escalated into running across the road in heavy traffic and standing on the railing of the bridge as he currently was. So when he heard a shout, and felt strong hands wrapped around his waist, of course he was upset.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Kyle shouted, wrenching himself away from the arms that had dragged him away from his thrill.
"Saving your life," A heavy French accent replied.
"I wasn't going to jump," Kyle said coolly, brushing himself down. "You had no right to grab me like that."
"I was trying to do you a favour," the man said, turning away. "Next time you're at the brink of death I won't do anything."
"Do not walk away from me," Kyle shouted, tears streaming down his face. "You said you would stay with me for better or worse."
"You do not vent to be seved," Christophe replied, wrapping a scarf around the shorter man's neck. "Next time you ere et the brink of deth, I vill not be eble to do 2enalty2." He ran his dirtied fingers through soft red hair. "Goodbye."
"Stop!" Kyle cried out as the German walked away. "Please stop I love you!"
Ding the first brave thing he'd ever done, he ran after the other man and grabbed him.
"The 2enalty for touching en officer is greve," Christophe murmured. "If I celled my commender you would be ded."
"But you wont," Kyle murmured, his sweet British accent rolling elegantly off his tongue. "You love me."
The two men leant forward, and their lips met in the fieriest kiss either of them would ever experience. Kyle moaned; shivering as the other man deepened the kiss. He knew it was wrong, and yet he wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Today could be his last –
Kyle's eyes flew open, he was kissing another man, and not only another man, was he kissing a complete stranger. He pushed the other man away from him, wiping his mouth. He looked up in horror, the other man meeting his eyes.
"Curses in French," the Frenchman spat, wiping his mouth.
"What the hell just happened?" Kyle shouted, stepping backwards.
"Don't look at me," the Frenchman replied. "You think I enjoyed it?"
"Yes."
"I have a girlfriend," the Frenchman said. "I am not gay."
"Well I recently broke up with my girlfriend," Kyle said. "I am not gay either."
"We should just deal with this calmly," the Frenchman began. "I'm Christophe DeLorne."
"Oh, so introducing ourselves and progressing our relationship further than it already is," Kyle muttered. "Great idea."
"Just tell me you're name."
"Pistachio Iguana."
"Okay fine, be that way," Christophe said, turning away. "But don't expect my help in figuring this out."
"I don't want your help," Kyle shouted after the other man. "I will never, ever want anything from you."
-
Kyle walked down the road, kicking an old coke can. He felt violated, his body, his mind, everywhere. He could still feel the other mans body against his, his lips burned for the other mans. It wasn't as though he hadn't been kissed before, but for some reason it felt different.
'It was that damn stupid – flashback – or whatever it was,' Kyle thought, scowling. 'If only he hadn't pulled me off the railing, none of this would have happened.'
There was still something he couldn't get, the connection they had felt, and what had happened to them. Were they experiencing someone else's past, or had they met before, in another life. Kyle shook his head, he was Jewish, he didn't believe in other lives.
"Kyle," someone shouted, pulling Kyle back to reality. "Hey Kyle."
Kyle turned around and smiled, Kenny and Rebecca were across the road smiling and waving at him. He waved back and ran across, avoiding the cars that surrounded him. When he finally reached the other side, he received a sharp slap across his face.
"Could you get anymore stupid," Rebecca snapped. "You don't cross a road in heavy traffic."
"Becca love," Kenny said, murmuring into his girlfriend's neck. "Kyle's a thrill seeker; he'd have to be to date you."
Rebecca giggled and playfully hit her boyfriend. It was nice to see the two happy; Kyle could even feel a smile slowly creep onto his face. He would never tell Kenny, but they looked adorable together.
"So how are you guys?' Kyle grinned.
"Not bad," Kenny said, kissing Rebecca's cheek. "Not bad at all."
"Oh Kyle," Rebecca said. "Guess what's happened."
"What?"
"Guess!"
"Come on guys," Kyle chuckled. "Tell me."
"We're getting married!" Rebecca squealed, hugging Kyle tightly. "Kenny and I, he preposed."
"Last night," Kenny said proudly. "Over dinner, six month anniversary."
"Isn't that a bit soon?" Kyle asked, frowning. "Hang on; I thought you started dating four months ago."
"Uh…"
"Thanks guys," Kyle said sarcastically. "You really know how to make a guy feel good about himself."
"Kyle," Rebecca said, her smile faltering. "You know how bad I feel about that."
"I know," Kyle sighed, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry, I am happy for you two, really. It's just today hasn't been the best day in my life."
"Oh?" Kenny said. "What happened, do tell."
"Basically, I was standing on the railing of the bridge near –"
"You did what?"
"Becca."
"It's okay," Kyle said, smiling slightly. "Anyway, this crazy French guy named Christophe pulls me off and nearly breaks my leg. He thought I was going to jump or something."
"Sounds horrible," Rebecca smirked. "To be rescued by a brave man."
"Assaulted is more like it," Kyle answered. "God… I'm not even going to tell you what happened next."
"Awww," Kenny said, frowning. "So we're not going to hear the rest of your exciting French adventures?"
"No," Kyle said. "I have to get home anyway, you know how mum gets if I'm away for too long."
"See you at school then," Kenny said.
"Yeah, and congratulations."
-
"Kyle," Sheila said, bearing down on her son. "You haven't eaten you vegetables."
"I'm not hungry," Kyle muttered, placing his fork on the table.
"When did you last eat?" Sheila questioned. "Oh Kyle, you know you can't eat after two."
"I didn't," Kyle snapped. "I'm just not hungry."
"Don't take that tone of voice with me," Sheila snapped, slamming her hand down on the table.
"Why not?" Kyle shouted back. "You talk to me like this all the time."
"I am your mother," Sheila stated, grinding her teeth.
"And I am your son," Kyle muttered. "At least that's what you tell me."
"Go to your room," Sheila snapped. "Go up there until you apologise."
"Fine," Kyle said, storming out of the room. "At least I won't have to look at your face."
Kyle ran upstairs and slammed the door behind him, shutting out his mother's shouts. He was not in the mood to deal with her, not after the day he had. Flopping himself on the bed he pushed a curl of red hair off his face. Everything was fine, until that random French guy had to play the hero, selfish bastard.
The guy seemed to be pretty self assured, he pulsated with confidence. Kyle didn't like the look of him. Black shirt, shredded jeans, and a leather jacket which looked as though it would fall to smithereens. He more boots, which indicated that he probably rode a motor cycle.
'He probably thinks he's a rebel,' Kyle angrily thought. 'The new James Dean, a rebel without a cause.'
Kyle growled, he hated him, yet there was something there, that connection to him. One shared moment and he felt sick, he had kissed a guy, and not a gentle kiss, it was a passionate kiss. Kyle stalked over to his closet and grabbed his black jacket with an emerald green design which rested just above his heart. Silently, he tiptoed over to his window and gently opened it.
He would show the French wanker who was a rebel.
-
Liked it? Hated it? Please review!
This is one of the shortest chapters I've ever written… The rest will be a lot longer.
Until my next chapter,
Me-Ladie