"I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies." - Pietro Aretino
This meeting didn't go as well as the last, something dark and mysterious seemed to be on the horizon.
Even Eric was off with his assistant, she wouldn't stop fidgeting and casting anxious looks in his direction. It got to a point where Kyle wanted to scream, "Will you two just leave!"
Of course he could never say that, not when everyone was licking the shadows of Eric's footsteps in order to get closer to him. It was revolting in every sense. Still, the meeting eventually came to a close. And they weren't any closer in seizing more benefits and pay for their clients, which had surprising dwindled in rank and size. Any evidence Kyle had shown Mr. Michaels had earned him a head shake, and a refusal of using those articles as ammunition. Kyle Broflovski was completely alone.
As everyone was in the process of leaving, Kyle was filled with such a desire to throttle Eric that he stormed after him in the hallway. Pushing past his swarm of lawyers, Kyle's hand shot out to grab his arm. Eric tensed and cast a bored glance over his shoulder, expecting to see Haley complaining and begging again. But to his astonishment, a fuming Kyle stood before him.
"We need to talk." the redhead hissed.
Eric smirked, "Is this how you plan on apologizing, Jew?" He attempted to shake the grip on his arm, but to his dislike it tightened its hold.
He lifted his eyes back to Kyle's, and the latter growled out a single word.
"Now."
The brainless drones around them hovered, concerned about this new development, and hungry for possible gossip. Eric smiled, and turned that hold around on Kyle. Twisting his arm so that his hand clamped around Kyle's wrist, he dug his fingers into the skin as he dragged him down the hallway and into a solitary elevator.
Releasing his hold as soon as the heavy metal doors closed around them, everything was silent as Eric pressed the 'level three' button.
They had to wait a couple of minutes, but after an awkward bout of silence, the pair found themselves by their lonesome.
"This floor has been closed off for redecorating." Eric explained, but was unsure if he said it because of the need to fill the silence, or because he missed the sound of Kyle's voice and the laughter it held when they talked. Or when they used to.
"Excuse me!"
Haley turned around at the sudden voice, and gave a shutter at the tone of it. One of the union members, a Mr. Barrett stood before her, looking as uncomfortable as she inwardly felt.
"Yes?" she said with a welcoming smile, like she wasn't just planning on having one of this man's lawyers disappear from the face of the planet.
He took a couple of steps closer to her, casting his eyes to the dusty surface of the hardwood as he whispered, "A-after this it'd disappear right? Th-the ties to that, to that..."
"Woman?" Haley offered, and gave a sly smile when Mr. Barrett flinched. She placed a hand to the side of his shoulder, "Don't worry, your wife won't find out that you cheated on her with a prostitute."
Mr. Barrett's face became pale in his grief, blind to everyone and everything besides his transgressions. This new CEO would fire him, but he couldn't do or say anything, not unless he wanted his sweet Andrea to find out about that night.
"We wouldn't want that," Haley cooed, "not when Mrs. Barrett is expecting. Did you pick a name yet?"
"Francis." Mr. Barrett whispered painfully, remembering the swell of his wife's belly as she placed more kindling in their fireplace, to keep their little home nice and toasty.
"Well, don't worry. If you just continue to be quiet about the situation here, Mr. Cartman won't feel the need to release that information to your wife. But really, it was a mistake and meant nothing to you, right?"
Mr. Barrett nodded dumbly, and was still reflecting on his situation when Haley dropped her smile and walked away. On her way out she caught Mrs. Morton's eye, another person that felt inclined to spend the evening with Mrs. Cartman. And her situation was similar to her fellow union member, and quickly as it had started, she retreated. Unable to grace a tight lipped smile of someone that had a dark secret stolen.
Far from listening ears, Eric and Kyle walked into a large and barely furnished room. The emerald wallpaper with black swirls was peeling right off the walls, and cans of beige paint was placed off to the side. Besides that, the only objects in the room was a large oak desk that rested in the center, with two chairs on either side.
Kyle was the first to sit down, and expected Eric to take the other chair, but he didn't. Instead he sat on the edge of the desk, making the fabric of his trousers wrinkle and tent around the groin area.
"Want to tell me what this is about?" Eric asked with a sneer, digging a hand into his pants for a packet of cigarettes.
"You know what this is about, you fucking asshole!"
Eric spared him a glance, face shadowed by the limited amount of light that was filtering through the frosted windows. He crossed his legs, "Fine, then go ahead. Apologize."
Kyle bit back the venom in his throat, only managing to say, "E-excuse me?"
"You heard what I said, apologize. Apologize for blocking my phone number and getting sand in your vagina."
"Wait one fucking second!" Kyle kept a steady grip on his chair's arm, "First off all, how pretentious can you be! 'Uh, I don't want to ever speak to you again, Kyle. It's okay, I can pay you for the sex!' And now here you are, asking me how I could block such bullshit!? Not to mention being a general douche-bag to these families, with your sneaky plans and cons-"
"What?"
Startled by Eric's confused stupor, Kyle paused for a second. He returned the lost expression with a sneer, leaning up in his seat, "That's right, I know all about the other companies. Honestly..." he shook his head, chest boiling with rage and all of the hurt he felt these past couple weeks. This was his chance to let it all out, let Eric Cartman know not to fuck with him. That he wouldn't just snivel and be pushed around, not like Mr. Michaels.
"What gives you the right to treat human beings like this!" Without even thinking he jumped to his feet and shoved Eric with all the strength he possessed. Eric's hunched form didn't have the chance to catch himself, and instead he was flung back onto the desk, hard.
It took a couple of seconds before either could process what had happened; Eric sprawled over the wood while Kyle closely loomed over him. Heavy breathing nestled the air, and Kyle closed his stretched out palms into tight fists, dropping them slowly by his sides.
Kyle was rooted to the spot, caught by the image of Eric gasping for the air that was knocked from his chest, meanwhile rubbing at what he could reach of his head. Already the brunette was starting to feel nauseous, but that might have to do with the fact that recently he'd been stuck on a diet of hard liquor and whatever garbage he could eat that made him feel full.
It was quite a drastic change, going from healthy foods to hamburgers and fries, that was his mother's cooking coming back to haunt him. He did it to punish Haley, but that didn't really make sense, maybe he did it to hurt himself...
"Whatever." Eric whispered, shaking his head. But that made things worse, and the world tilted on its side. He lifted his arm to the air, beckoning Kyle to haul him back up. But that move only earned him a stare, and so Eric loudly sighed.
"Look, Kyle. I didn't send you a text, you have my word on that."
Kyle scoffed.
"It's the truth, and I won't beg to let you see that. It's beneath me. So whoever gave that information is an idiot, do you really think I'd pay you for the sex? I don't pay my lovers anything, the pleasure is mutual."
The redhead looked to the side, still ignoring the hand waiting for him. Wordlessly he withdrew his phone from his pants pocket and scrolled to their last and only conversation, sticking the screen into Eric's face.
"What about this then?" Kyle whispered, frowning when Eric's face became harsh with anger.
"That...that stupid fucking bitch.."
Kyle's hand fell back to his side, "You didn't know" he mumbled with shocking realization. He furrowed his brow, "If I apologize, can you answer something for me?"
The man before him weakly climbed away from the desk and back onto his own feet, still needing a hand on the wood to keep him upright. Eric cleared his throat, "Don't bother, I'd block the asshole that sent me that text too. In fact, I'd probably do something worse to him."
Kyle stepped back, making room for the other as he tried to righten himself, "Anyway, what's the question?"
It was time for Kyle to clear his own throat, "Why did you leave after dinner?" He watched as Eric shifted his weight around, awkward with the new layer of fat that protected his belly and hung off of his hips.
"I..."
Kyle bit his bottom lip, gesturing for Eric to continue.
"I...it's hard to say, I just..." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, "Look, I know when I'm not wanted. I've spent my whole life trying to fit in and accept myself, but I never can. Being the awkward third wheel, or fourth to the fucking trio of best friends is the worst, so I try and jam myself elsewhere."
"And what, you expect me to run off into the sunset with Stan? Making flower crowns and singing melodies?"
Eric's face broke out into a brief smile, acknowledging the humorous vision, "Not exactly, but I'm not blind either."
"And?"
"And," Eric stressed, "I know that lost puppy stare anywhere. You'd give CPR to a whale and frolic with some forest sprites with that hippie, just to hold his hand."
Kyle flushed with embarrassment and anger, "I would not! And stop calling him a hippie, fatass!"
Eric's smile dropped with that word, something that Kyle never meant to slip out. He already figured that it was a sore topic for Cartman, especially since it was an insult they constantly referred to. Now he figured that it stuck with him, and no matter how confident Eric appeared, he was downright uncomfortable in his own skin.
He quickly recovered, donning a smirk as he invaded Kyle's space and dove a large hand into the red curls. Grabbing a handful, he yanked Kyle closer and tilted his head, ignoring the hands that tried to remove his own from the daywalker.
"Why?" he breathed, "He isn't some white knight going to save you." He leaned in close, lips almost brushing the other's as he peered into Kyle's eyes.
The young lawyer stopped struggling, and favoured to glare in response, "It doesn't matter, I don't need anyone to save me." He stubbornly stuck his chin in the air, peering into the dark browns, "I'm certainly not scared of you."
Kyle stifled the immediate yelp that clawed at his lips when Eric pulled on his hair, and instead it bubbled to a pitiful whimper. The sound had the other grinning in such delight that it reminded Kyle of that fantasy with a desk, and so he peered around the broad set of shoulders at it, brows knitted together.
Eric followed his gaze, and rose a brow at Kyle when he turned back. He moved in close again, warm breath fanning as his voice dropped a couple of degrees into a husky drawl, "Oh I can believe it, Kahl." He placed his spare hand on the lawyer's trembling chest, dragging it down to the older man's pants, there an erection was beginning to form.
He trailed a single finger along the outline, barely even considered touching. Still it made Kyle's breath hitch and lean in closer to the feeling, but it didn't last long.
A vibration shook Kyle's body, coming from the closeness of Eric's leg. The latter pulled back, digging into his trousers to grab his cell, and a grimace became apparent with the received message.
"Ah lovely, your boyfriend is here."