/N: Sorry about disappearing on you guys! DX I got pretty sick for a bit, and then ended up not remembering which direction I wanted to take with this...thank goodness for a few notes I had! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Chapter 6

January 15th

Sweat beaded Eric's brow as he stared down at the red curls that bobbed before him. Concentration was taught in his forehead as he rode out the emotions, and pleasures that curled in his stomach. Not much longer and it would end in bliss. A sudden urge to hear Kyle whisper his name was strong enough that he latched his hands in the red curls and jerked his head back, exposing the bobbing of his adams apple—delicious. The colors around the two swirled into a Van Gogh painting before blending into one another to create the most explosive colors Eric had ever seen.

Too bad it was a dream.

Too bad it was just what he wanted.

Too bad he could never have it.

Heaving a sigh, Eric threw back the covers, grimacing at the no doubt stickiness that was starting to form. He groaned softly to himself as he gathered up the messed sheets and rushed downstairs before his mother. She wouldn't have said anything had she found them; after all, before he reached sixteen she was in charge of all of the laundry. Surely she had seen much worst than a morning mess—and even given her occupation...

Still. It wasn't like Eric wanted it flaunted around his household that he had wet dreams. Grimacing, he threw the soiled laundry into the washer and set it to whites. That would ensure him the cleanest sheets. A secret he had learned about a year ago after a mishap with the gang staying over.

Upstairs, he could hear his alarm blaring. A warning that his day was about to start. It sent a sinking feeling through his chest. It would no doubt be another day of school where he was ostracized, accused falsely, and would have erroneous rumors spread about him. The school was probably still quite upset about his 'ketamine' trip. Kenny knew it wasn't him, and Butters certainly had his suspicions. Funny, how everyone said that the blondes were the dumb ones, but both people who had faith in him were blonde.

Was it an omen?

The thought of calling out sick certainly crossed his mind. He could make himself vomit, a neat trick he discovered when he was in middle school. His mother would believe him, put him back to bed and call the school. It was a talent.

He could pretend to go and then skip completely. His mother would be upset, but not for too long. He could spend the day creating a story for her; the boys at school were bullying him again. The boys were being jerks and said somethings. The school sent him home early. He started feeling sick on the way.

But, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed to go. He had to show his face around the school so that when people needed someone to blame for the something aweful that happened in his life, he would be there. They would have a face to put with the anger and hatred. They would have someone to blame.

And yet, in a sense, that's what drove him to continue going. Something about being the face to their emotions was some enthralling, and felt right. It made him feel needed. Not exactly an emotion he felt at home frequently. So the decision came down to whether or not he wanted to feel needed.

In the end, he decided that it wasn't worth his education for a free day. Believe it not, Eric Cartman was a straight A student, with hopes of getting into a pretty decent college somewhere upstate. Somewhere, away from all of the brats at school. Somewhere, where Eric Cartman was just himself; not a preconcieved notion of evil.

So he packed up his backpack, and made his way to his truck. Trepidation filled his chest as he got closer to the school, but he managed to push himself through it. If anything, he would simply ignore everyone and slip into a bout of silence. That always seemed to get him off everyone's bad side for a bit. It would certainly be worth the break.

Throughout the day, Eric did his best to completely avoid anyone he had previously been associated with. This included, but did not limit, Token, Butters, Kyle, Stan, and even Kenny. Though, he knew the blonde wasn't mad with him, the rest of the ostracizing social group wouldn't let him break through. Which, once again, was how Eric found himself eating alone in the far corner of the cafeteria.

Or, at least, he had started out eating alone.

Kenny was the first one to sit across from him. His fork dug into the slop that the school was calling food as he shoveled it into his mouth. Eric felt his shoulders tense as he eyed the blonde sitting across from him.

"What are you doing?" Eric hummed quietly. There was no malace in his voice, and no underlying anger. When he was with the right people, he wasn't bad. In fact, he could be quite nice. But it took a lot of time and trust to get him to that level. And on top of that, a lot of not listening to other people.

"You weren't going to tell him." Kenny replied shoving another bight of slosh into his mouth. He needed it though. With his metabolism, and the lack of money in his home, he needed every calorie he could get. His blond hair was starting to get just a little too long, he could almost pull it back into a full pony without strands hanging loose in the front. "So I did. It's not fair to you, Cartman. You can't let people treat you-"

"Treat me like what Kenny?" Eric sighed rubbing a hand over his face. He aged almost twenty years in the process, but he didn't particularly care right now. "Treat me like I'm worst than some vanereal disease? Treat me like I deserve to be dead, and not alive breathing the same air as them? In case you haven't noticed, if I don't act as the catylist fo their hatred-"

"You. Don't. Deserve. It." Kenny snapped his blonde eyebrows furrowing down. He leaned forward, doing his best to make sure that the conversation stayed at the table and wouldn't carry over. "You can't keep allowing this to be the thought. Eric, you fucking saved Kyle from lord only knows what would have happened! On top of that, you're taking the blame for him even getting..."

"Because, why wouldn't I?" Eric growled as his hands gripped the plastic fork. "I'm supposed to hate the damned jew. I'm not supposed to be nice. I like it when he's angry, and I love it when I'm the one that makes him angry. Why is that so damned hard to accept? Maybe I'm not some nice guy...maybe..."

"And maybe you are," Kenny huffed crossing his arms. "Maybe, you're nicer than you give yourself credit for. As far as the bullying Kyle thing...dude have you even matured since junior high? Everyone knows you've got the biggest cru-"

"I do not you dumbfuck!" Eric interrupted quickly. He didn't even want the word to leave Kenny's mouth. Didn't want to think about it, and had, in fact, managed to put it off for years. If It Wasn't Said Aloud, Then It Itsn't True: A Philosophical Endeavor written by one Eric Cartman.

But his face betrayed whatever emotion it was that he was trying to farce. Heat raised to his cheeks, and his eyebrows had reached his hairline. It was damn near comical.

"You do though." Kenny sighed placing his chin on his hand. "But anyway..."

The bell rang just in time; thankfully. Eric jumped up from his seat, and raced to throw away whatever slop was left on his tray. He would be sure to avoid the blonde for the rest of the day. There was no need to risk anymore anxiety or self realization while needing to focus on his grades and study. As long as he was left alone, he could focus.

And for the rest of the day, it seemed that things would go his way. He made it through most of his classes without incident; kept his head down, took notes, and didn't say a word or kick up a fuss. He still got the occasional dirty glare, but they weren't as persistant as they had been. The students were starting to come off their high horses, and it was both a relief and a worry to Eric.

He was at his locker when the red head showed up, his lips pursed, and his brows pulled down in consternation. He wasn't happy with what Kenny had told him, and in fact, probably wanted answers directly from the source.

"We need to talk." Kyle leaned against the locker in front of him. His thin lanky arms wrapped tightly around a book that he would claim he needed for studying. But Kyle was too smart for anything taught at this stupid school. He didn't have to study, but he liked to. It was a secret that he tried to keep but Eric knew. He could ready beyond what the redhead was saying when he said he had to study.

"No," Eric shook his head slamming his locker door. "No we don't." He turned on the ball of his feet and made to leave. But Kyle was oddly persistant, it seemed. A trait that Cartman both endeared and hated when it came to certain situations. This situation just so happened to be one of the times where he hated it.

"Yes, we do. Kenny told me. In fact," Kyle rushed to keep up with the long strides of the thick legs that carried the larger boy. "Kenny told me a hell of a lot last night. And I need...Eric! Man just wait!" He reached to grasp the thick jacket that covered Eric's arm.

And then it all happened too fast.

Eric didn't have control of himself or the current situation and he hated it.

He hated not having control.

But maybe, just once it would work out for him. Because without a second thought, Eric grabbed Kyle's hand, and tugged him into a rough kiss while simultaneously sending a spine tingling glare.