A/N: So, yeah, I'm back with another chapter. God, I suck at being on 'hiatus'... If you can even call two weeks a hiatus. But I guess it is, considering that there's been little space between the updates, so in perspective, it's been a while. Shut up. Sorry for the rambling. Anyway, as you may remember from my author's note on Chapter 5, I was feeling down in the dumps with this story. It was a lot of things:
(1. The fact that when it comes to ideas for stories, I get really passionate about them and once I start writing, I want to see them through to the end, but my ideas (and motivation for those ideas) come and go so quickly. It's frustrating. But the motivation and excitement I have for this story ebbs and flows, which is actually pretty good going for me. This is usually why I only write oneshots, because I'd hate to write a multi-chapter fanfic and then give up on it. This story was actually going to be a really long oneshot then I realized the idea and plot that I had mapped out for it was simply too big. My point is, that I recently went through a phase where my motivation was lacking for this story. Yeah. I really need to work on my ability to cut to the chase.
(2. Okay, this is gonna sound so pathetic when I say this, and I hate admitting it but... It's really disheartening when you feel like hardly anybody is reading your story. Especially when you put a lot of time into it and you're actually kinda proud of it. Fellow writers can sympathize with me on this. That being said, the reviews and feedback I have recieved have been so helpful and a pleasure to read. So I love you guys for reading, and I wish I could shake this stupid, disheartening feeling that makes me feel so pathetic and childish, but, yeah, when you're in a bad mood, and you feel like you're a terrible writer and then start to convince yourself that nobody gives a shit about your story (even though that's not the case at all), it's really annoying.
(3. SCHOOL. Uch, the bane of my existence at the minute. Do I need to say anymore? And even though I'm posting this chapter, I'm confident that the next couple of chapters will be more sporadically posted (even if it's just a two week wait, like this one) because my exams are still going on, I have yet to write the following chapters and the only reason I'm posting this one now is because I had already written half of it.
But, that being said, the positive, wonderful feedback I have received has made me feel so much better! Seriously, to everybody who has reviewed, followed, favorited and is reading this story, thank you guys! See, when I do feel discouraged and that nobody is reading, I always try to remind myself that even if only one person was reading, but is enjoying what I'm doing, then that's awesome. And now that my mood is slightly better, I can see that now.
Anyway, I'm gonna shut up and let you read Chapter 6 of An Infinite April! Enjoy!
To his surprise, Cartman woke up in an empty bed. He didn't know what he was expecting; breakfast in bed with all the trimmings, Kyle curled up with the morning's newspaper or for Kyle to still be asleep and spooning him.
Cartman sat up in this familiar, safe bed and rubbed at his eyes. And the shaky sigh that he let slip could well have turned into a sob if he hadn't stubbornly pushed the feeling away. Because while he was staying at Kyle's, where everything was always so familiar and safe, all the shit that was going on outside wasn't. It was unmoving, overwhelming, terrifying and worst of all, new. Like anything Cartman had never (and hoped he never had to) experienced before.
Not today. He couldn't go today. Today, he was more than content with being a coward. With being brazen with his fear and trepidation. He doubted he could look his mom in the eye without crying, shouting, having a panic attack or all of the above.
Uch, he had slept in his clothes. He must've been exhausted if he could fall asleep whilst being this uncomfortable.
With his mind throbbing with questions and doubts, he managed to stumble out of Kyle's bedroom and into the living room.
"Good morning" A rather chipper Kyle said from the couch, eating a bowl of cornflakes whilst watching the morning news in his sweatpants and Denver Nuggets t-shirt.
"Morning" Cartman replied weakly, his voice rough. He ran his hand through his dishevelled hair before dabbing at his face self-consciously for any signs of drool.
"Aren't you gonna sit down?" Kyle asked.
"Um, okay..." Cartman muttered to himself, hesitantly sitting down on the armchair and keeping his eyes focused on the bulletins that were constantly streaming along the bottom of the screen.
Eric had a surprisingly good night's sleep, considering his mom had attempted suicide just hours before. Kyle guessed this was just another symptom of shock and a life-long exhaustion of trying to figure out a struggling woman who's supposed to be keeping it all together... Because that's what mothers are supposed to do, aren't they? Be selfless even when they're desperate for help, never put a foot wrong even when they're unsure of what to do next and always be there even if sometimes they doubted whether they should, or want to, be there at all. And Kyle thought that was rather unfair, for both Eric and his mom. Maybe tonight, when the saline wounds were no longer fresh, Eric would finally feel the impact in his numbed, dreaming state. And Kyle would be there. He had no problem staying up all night for him. Hell, that was pretty much what happened last night; Kyle staring at Eric and soaking up his story, richly fascinated and slowly falling more and more in-
"Do you want something to eat?" Kyle quickly asked "I need to go to the grocery store later, so there's not much here right now, but I have cereal or I could make you eggs and toast-"
"Cereal's fine. Thanks" Cartman laughed weakly, finding Kyle's eagerness to be the perfect host/boyfriend adorable.
"Cereal. Right away" Kyle whispered, fidgeting as he rushed over to the kitchen in his typical busy, excitable fashion.
"Orange juice?" Kyle called from the kitchen.
"Please"
Cartman began to think about his house; the lights off and the blood uncleaned and as he sat in Kyle's armchair with day old clothes, he felt like a runaway. And the thought of running away from South Park without turning back, unmissed and empty-handed felt so terrifyingly exhilarating that he almost forgot the gossip of the neighbors and his mom swathed in bandages and wires. And what seemed exhilarating now became irreparably smothering.
Luckily, before his panic attack could escalate anymore dramatically, Kyle arrived with his cereal and orange juice.
"So, we still have Stan's car, how about when we're all freshened up we take a little trip to South Park?" Kyle asked, nervousness crept into his voice and he tried to approach the subject of Eric's hometown gently.
"Why would you wanna go there?" Cartman asked, the cereal feeling tasteless and lumpy as his chest tightened with anxiety.
"Because we need to get your things. Clothes, underwear, that kinda stuff" Kyle explains, taking a sip of his coffee.
"What about school?" Cartman asked so quietly that he prayed Kyle didn't hear him.
"How about you 'call in sick' this week? For lack of a better phrase..."
"You really think I should?" Cartman asked, only really thinking about Ophelia, the tests he had to study for and the rugby practice he was supposed to attend tonight.
"Yeah" Kyle nodded, before his tone became more somber "I mean, it's unfair to expect you to go school and feel lonely with all this crap going on. At least I think so. I don't expect you to be up for it-"
"I'm never up for it" Cartman mumbles and his moodiness is dampened somewhat by Kyle's wry laughter.
"So, what do you say?" Kyle says, with a keen of optimism "Road trip to South Park?"
Cartman rolls his eyes before grinning exasperatedly "Fine. I guess I can't wear this everyday"
"No, you certainly can't" Kyle adds.
With his spoon, Cartman stirred the remains of his cereal shyly, inexplicably blushing when he coughed into his fist and asked "Do you mind if I, uh, have a shower?"
"Of course not, dumbass" Kyle smirks, taking their empty bowls and mugs to the kitchen. "I'll get dressed and once you're ready we can hit the road"
"Alright" Cartman says as he gets up, pausing thoughtfully and studying his nails in a way that was uncomfortably nonchalant as he attempted to offer flirtatiously "You can join me, if you want..."
And Kyle bit his lip and melted at the awkward, cute sexiness that Eric often exhibited. Like he was totally unaware of the sexual stimulus he could provoke and his own unique brand of attractiveness. "I'd love to"
Cartman sighed happily when Kyle teasingly wrapped his arms around his neck, God, he loved how Kyle had to stand on his tiptoes just so they could make eye contact.
Cartman smirked more confidently "I figure we should make up for last night" Immediately blushing after he said it, but Kyle didn't seem to mind.
"Good idea" Kyle whispered, kissing the tip of Eric's nose.
How could a place that once seemed so innocuous now seem so foreboding?
Cartman's approach to finally getting out of Stan's car was like a band-aid; rip it off quickly and it's relatively painless. He figured, the quicker he got out of the car the less painful it would be to make the next daunting move. Actually going back into his house.
But he had been leaning against the car door and staring at his home for twenty minutes, unsure if he had any intention of going inside. The colorless sun that ripped through the overcast sky made him squint up at the building (as that was all it seemed to him right now) and his hands were shoved deep into his jacket pockets, contemplating fruitlessly.
Kyle stood next to Eric, nodding along to everything he said because he felt he had no right to be making assumptions or giving him demands; what the fuck did he know about this kind of thing? Kyle had no idea what it felt like to be apart of a family where the seams had come undone, sure his parents had their issues, but nothing compared to this. But he was sure Eric loved his mom, even if he professed he couldn't possibly, even if he toyed with the thought of total ambivalence towards her. He must love her, if it's eating him up this much, then he must, right?
"What are you so afraid of?" Kyle finally asked, albeit shyly.
"Nothing, I'm not afraid of anything" Cartman replied shortly, his eyes still focused on the house.
"Then why are you stalling?" Kyle asks "It's gotta be out of fear, hasn't it?"
"I guess, but..." Cartman replies, his breath hitching as he exhales "There are lots of other things I'm feeling right now"
"Alright" Kyle nods "But how long you stand out here isn't gonna make a difference to what could be inside that house"
"Exactly!" Cartman snaps "No matter what I do I can't change anything!"
And the volume of Cartman's voice seemed even louder in the empty street, making the both of them flinch.
Kyle stared up at the sky for words before he said "That doesn't mean you shouldn't go inside. You're gonna have to sooner or later"
Cartman wondered if he could avoid going into the kitchen, though some instinctive voice told him that was the first place he'd have to go. It was the band-aid approach all over again.
"Fine" Cartman sighed "Let's go.."
Cartman counted every crunch of the snow under his feet like he was counting every fleshy, thump of his swollen heart. And every step felt like one too many.
Cartman swallowed nervously as he opened the front door and him and Kyle stepped inside silently. The only light came from the kitchen, like the last feeble, blinking lighthouse on a desert island. Everything else was dark, even in the afternoon it seemed so chillingly dark and as Eric and Kyle stood there, their heartbeats were becoming lost in translation. Cartman was too afraid to even find the light switch.
Finally, after clumsily trailing his fingers along the wall, Kyle found it himself. And color and life sprinted through the room, albeit a little cold.
"I'm guessing I'm not gonna get a tour, right?" Kyle tried to joke but then wished he hadn't.
"No" Cartman whispered, lost. He stared around his hallway like he hadn't stood here countless times before. "Sorry" But he didn't really mean it.
"I was kidding" Kyle explained.
"Oh" Cartman nodded awkwardly, blushing.
Taking a deep breath and trying his damn hardest to be a lot more brave and mature than he felt, Cartman said "Listen, I think I better go deal with what's in there" Cartman gestured to the kitchen "You know, clean up and everything."
"Alright" Kyle nodded, impressed by Eric's desire to take such control of this very unpleasant situation "I can come and help you, if you want?"
"I think it's something I have to do on my own" Cartman quickly says, frowning at the flash of hurt that briefly marred Kyle's features. "I can't explain why. Right now, I can't explain anything but I think it would be best. But I'll be okay, I promise. I'll get it done as quickly as possible. Like a band-aid, right? Quick and painless"
Cartman was aware his rambling suggested anything but being 'under control' and he wished Kyle would shut him up.
Kyle shook his head with an understanding, exasperated smile and silenced Eric with a firm, chaste kiss.
"I don't get it" Kyle said honestly "But as long as you do-"
"Yeah, totally" Cartman interrupted.
"Good" Kyle smiled "So, is there anything else I can do?"
"Wait upstairs?" Cartman asked "In my room? It's the first door to your right"
Kyle nodded before heading upstairs, but as he reached the fourth step, he leaned over the railing and kissed Eric's ear, laughing quietly to himself when Eric jolted in surprise.
"Everything will be fine" Kyle promised before departing upstairs.
Cartman braced himself with a deep breath and kept his eyes determinedly trained on the floor as he practically marched into the kitchen; hoping his strides suggested purpose not overwhelming fear.
The stains were still there.
The knife still lay on the floor, grinning mockingly at Cartman with its silver, frigid fang.
And the dinner that was half-made was still on the counter.
Cartman choked on a quiet sob when he realized that. Everything was normal (his and his mom's idea of normal anyway) until suddenly, one movement, one thought, one thin, weak fiber snapped and made his mom grab that knife with blurry hands and shaky fingers and then-
The floor. Cartman pulled his eyes away from the sorry scene and to a scene more grotesque. A dark smear of red slid down the cupboard beneath the sink, and he imagined his mom's gratuitous sobs and the excruciating pain and a pale, fragile arm being dragged limply across the wooden surface.
Cartman shuddered. Where was the sponge? The bucket? Under the sink. Great.
Swallowing the frail lining of his stomach that had risen in his throat, Cartman resigned himself to the hideous task of cleaning up. He had never done that before. His mom used to give him a list of chores but since he knew that she didn't care if he did them or not, or if he paid attention to any means of them barely communicating with each other, then why the Hell bother? He had better things to do, or so he convinced himself.
At that moment, he hated his younger self. And he wasn't sure whether he liked his current self either.
But before he could start to fill up the bucket with soap and water, a weak mewl roused a relieved, welcomed smile on his face.
God, how hadn't he noticed Mr Kitty curled up by the food bowl? Poor cat. After Nebraska, Mr Kitty's nightly exertions tended to go on for weeks and months, but Cartman never made any effort to find him. Or put up any posters on the streetlights. It wasn't that he didn't care, Hell no, but could he really blame Mr Kitty for wanting to get out of this fucked up home? Mr Kitty was a smart old cat, alright, for years he was doing the one thing Cartman only dreamed he could. Leave whenever he wished. Still, he did miss waking up and seeing Mr Kitty prowling over his sheets, he missed coming home from school and finding Mr Kitty curled up on his bed and he'd spend a few minutes with his pet on his stomach, letting Mr Kitty lick his hand and swat at his face with his little grey paw.
"Nice to see you're back..." Cartman grinned, forgoing the cupboard where he assumed the cleaning supplies were kept and instead reaching for the cupboard where he knew for sure the cat food was.
Cartman knelt and poured some cat food into the bowl, studying Mr Kitty for any sign of joy at seeing his beloved owner. All he received was an indifferent look and an impatient, hungry lick at his whiskers.
"I missed you, buddy" Cartman cooed, stroking down Mr Kitty's back "But I'm not gonna be around for a while, like that's a problem for you..."
Mr Kitty purred in response, tucking into his meal once the cat food in his bowl was ample.
"Enjoy" Cartman smiled goofily in an effort to think more positively "I have work to do"
So while Mr Kitty ate something other than mice and food from garbage bags for a change, Cartman scrubbed at the floor. The soapy water crawled under his knees, dampening his jeans but he didn't care as long as the tiles gleamed back at him, stainless and erased of anything broken. Oh, mom, don't worry about the terrible mess you left on the floor He imagined saying at the hospital, with a wicked confidence and a grudge to bear I cleaned it up. Yep, I finally did something around the house, like you so listlessly asked me to do. It was probably the most horrible experience of my life, you know, because nobody wants to be reminded of the time their mom tried to commit suicide. But what can you do, huh? I guess that's just the kind of son I am. Going the extra mile. But what would you know about that? Fuck being kind, fuck being the bigger person, right now, these malicious thoughts were the only things keeping him from throwing the bucket at the wall and tearing up his kitchen.
Meanwhile, Kyle was still wandering around Eric's room, never had he been so fascinated with four, small walls.
Kyle didn't pay much attention the trivial details that make up every teenager's room; the unmade bed, the neglected desk of 'unimportant' school stuff, the hamper filled with clothes that have been purposefully unattended. Instead, Kyle took note of the little pieces of fleeting memories, random objects that were starting to paint a clearer picture of Eric.
Even though Eric made it seem to Kyle that he didn't know much about movies, the array of posters on his wall above his bed spoke opposite; Mel Gibson donned for battle in Braveheart, Uma Thurman and her effortless bedroom eyes and limply held cigarette in Pulp Fiction, a sullen Al Pacino surrounded by copious amounts of money and cocaine in Scarface, and surprisingly, John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John in a leather-clad embrace in Grease. Kyle imagined Eric lounging in bed on lazy days, maybe April days like this where the downpours were heavy, and watching these movies, laughing and smiling and maybe muttering some of his favorite lines to himself. Band posters too, were a popular feature on the wall; The Pixies, Nine Inch Nails, The Kills, The Smiths, Nirvana and Kyle appreciated the somewhat eclectic mix. Kyle chuckled to himself at Eric singing along to any of these lyrics, maybe the faster, less somber songs. His own renditions of Is She Weird? in the shower and This Charming Man whilst he was doing the dishes. Adorably, The Terrance and Philip poster obviously still took pride of place in the center, arguably the biggest out of them all.
Kyle picked up the framed photographs on Eric's dresser, wondering if Eric had done that himself or if his mom insisted that these pictures needed to be framed and displayed, if only for him. Kyle could imagine Lianne's empty, half-hearted argument and Eric rolling his eyes knowingly and begrudgingly as his mom busied herself with finding decent frames. One of the photos happened to be of Eric and his mom, at what appeared to be a rec center on Eric's eighth birthday, surrounded by little kids with messy hair and ice cream on their clothes, Eric was blowing out the candles while his mom hugged him from behind, in a warm embrace and in a paranoid attempt to keep him away from the flames. Even Kyle could see how thin she was, with her drained eyes and tiny wrists. It was a shame the cute little kid with the big attitude couldn't see it for himself. God knows he had needed to. Another picture was taken later, by Kenny, who was holding a camera at arms length and an uncooperative Eric seemed rather grumpy. How old is he there? Kyle wondered, fourteen? Fifteen? A typical Colorado summer caught the flash of the camera, the two boys somewhat veiled in a weak shadow. Kenny is grinning, with a decidedly cute sunburn and his aqua eyes managing to brightly steal away from the shadow, while Eric looks considerably more uncomfortable, his freckled arms folded and he looks a lot chubbier than he does now. Maybe this was taken before he started playing Rugby? Kyle wondered. And the other picture is definitely more recent; a group photo of his Rugby team, looking professional and polished as they try to pose like professional athletes on the bleachers. Eric is easy to spot, an easy, comfortable grin on his face that Kyle can tell was instantly wiped away as soon as the photo was taken.
There were still so many things in this room that Kyle was curious about; the pretty impressive camera that hung on Eric's closet door, the small gold trophy on his desk (Kyle supposed that was Rugby related), the miniature, blue rocking chair with Clyde Frog written on it and the two walls that were painted black. Kyle could only imagine the reason Eric wanted to strip the color away from those walls, especially as the rest of his room was such a lovely shade of purple.
"Oh" Kyle whispered, turning around as he heard faint, thoughtful footsteps and saw Eric leaning against the doorway "Hi"
"Hi" Cartman muttered listlessly, moving away from the door and sitting on his bed. Every moment he spent in this house felt like a bad idea and however badly Cartman wanted to leave before any more self-inflicted damage could be done, he just couldn't.
Kyle furrowed his eyebrows and shoved his hands defeatedly into his jacket pockets "Did you clean up?"
Cartman nodded, biting the inside of his mouth and quickly dabbing at his damp eyes with his wrists. God, he hated crying. But it seemed like every silence was the perfect opportunity to sob, and not even out of sadness. Just every confusing emotion in between.
"At least you did it" Kyle sighed, sitting on the bed next to Eric and wrapping his arm around his chest, his slender fingers tenderly stroking his broad shoulder.
Cartman didn't respond, instead he stared blankly at this closet. Stoic and utterly fed up in Kyle's arms. But that didn't deter Kyle one bit, and while Cartman was thankful for that, he didn't know how long Kyle's patience would last. Am I too much for him? Cartman began to wonder, terrified of pushing Kyle away without even thinking about it.
When he felt Kyle's warm lips brushing against his ear, Cartman bit back a smile.
"Do you realize how brave you are?" Kyle asked, his voice crisp and sweet.
"I'm not brave..." Cartman mumbled, balling his fists with self-loathing.
"Yes you are" Kyle said calmly, but his words held a considerable amount of passion "Immensely brave"
"How?" Cartman asked, his voice sharp with tears "I'm a fucking mess, Kahl. Even the tiniest things seem terrifying right now, so how can I be brave?"
Kyle closed his eyes, inhaling thoughtfully as he tried to make Eric see just how brave he is.
"Look at me" Kyle said firmly, pressing his forehead to Eric's and the two of them exchanged ragged, close breaths "Being brave doesn't mean that you're not terrified. I know you're terrified, even I am. But you're not letting it consume you or take you and that's what bravery is about. Standing up and admitting to yourself that even though you're shit-scared, you're not gonna let yourself be afraid of fear"
"Huh" That's all Cartman could unintelligibly say, it was the only small sound that managed to slip through his embarrassingly loud heartbeat.
Cartman's half-lidded eyes fell from Kyle's impassioned gaze and to his waiting lips and kissing them with every intention of telling Kyle he loved him. God, he fucking loved him, as pathetic as thinking about that made him feel, it was the only thing that felt right. Kyle whimpered in surprise and Cartman took that as an invitation to pry open his mouth with his tongue and kiss Kyle deeper. And while Cartman was trembling too much to touch him, Kyle was squeezing Eric's shoulder in a desperate attempt to hold on. The pleasantly surprised smirks slicing the exhilarating kiss.
"What was that for?" Kyle asked giddily, his face feeling warm. There was something about kissing in Eric's room that made him feel like a teenager again. It wasn't like a heady first kiss rush where everything seems to lose focus, but it was close enough. At least when Eric kissed him, he felt wanted and adored, as opposed to just another notch in an inexperienced belt.
"What, do I need to explain why I want to kiss my gorgeous boyfriend?" Eric teased, blushing at the very words coming out of his mouth. Finally feeling brave about something. And with shaking fingers, he tucked some of Kyle's curls behind his ear. His beginner's nervousness was still clear, what was supposed to be a passionate, craving touch felt more comforting and affectionate. But Kyle didn't mind that.
Kissing the corner of Eric's mouth, Kyle smirked "Sometimes it feels like you're a kitten trying to be a lion"
"Fuck you" Cartman hotly whispered, nuzzling into Kyle like he wanted to kiss him again. Suddenly, acting stoic didn't seem like a good idea anymore.
"It's not a bad thing" Kyle grinned, assuring him.
"But, seriously, when I listen to you talk like that, when you tell me that I'm brave and when you say things with such faith and passion, it gets to me. Not in a bad way, but the best possible way. In a way I've never felt before." Cartman begins to confess, swallowing harshly when he sees Kyle's eyes flicker, so painfully sincere, like he was only just discovering how much he'd taken a hold of him "It's like your words do something to me. You do something to me that makes me wanna kiss you and not stop until my lips have touched every inch of you"
Cartman was practically burning and his eyes fell to Kyle's lap because God knows what would've happened if he kept looking at his surprised, breath taken face.
Kyle bit his lip as he replayed Eric's words and they never lost their impact, they still managed to bloom in all the right places.
"Then why don't they?" Kyle whispered, sizzling, pulling Eric's mouth to his own before he could even think of a response.
And after Cartman made sure he had kissed Kyle all over, they made love for the second time that day.
Maybe it was the smell of pine and gasoline, maybe it was the way Eric held his hand as they walked down the quiet, abandoned streets or maybe it was that he had spent two hours in a single bed with an 18-year-old; but Kyle felt young again.
Which was ridiculous, he reminded himself, since he wasn't exactly old. But it felt good to be a 28-year-old teenager. It was like making your first footprint in virgin snow all over again; keeping the humid, teeming, inexperienced excitement, the terrifying exhilaration of testing the water of a big, grown up world that seems so promising and foreboding and only recalling the anxiety, the unknown and the expectations. A bad dream that Kyle was thankful he had woken up from.
They left Eric's bed when they both agreed a single bed was too warm and cramped for the both of them to stay in. So with their bodies still fatigued with shameless ecstasy, they managed to get dressed and - because Eric couldn't bear to stay in his house any longer - he offered to take Kyle to the place where he and Kenny usually hung out.
And as they stepped outside, Cartman had a rugby ball tucked neatly under his arm, while Kyle was merrily dribbling a basketball Cartman had managed to find in his garage.
It was a cold, damp walk to the basketball courts, the metallic smell of rain still hung in the murky skies. But Kyle enjoyed it nonetheless, he and Eric kept a leisurely pace, their fingers loosely linked and Kyle tried to fuel the conversation so Eric wouldn't become too withdrawn and weighed down with his thoughts.
But Eric soon perked up when they got to the basketball courts and he jovially announced to Kyle that he was going to teach him a couple of things about rugby.
Hearing Kyle's laugh, seeing his face flushed pink with the cold and embarrassment and watching his attempt at holding a rugby ball the correct way, made Cartman forget why they were here in the first place. The hideous chain of events that wrapped around Cartman's mind like a waiting noose seemed to loosen and not seem so frightening when his and Kyle's voices broke up the humdrum symphony of distant pick up trucks and spring birds.
He'd have to see his mom. He couldn't pretend this wasn't real, or that it would blow over if Cartman just closed his eyes and willed away the storm. But Kyle had to be there. He had to be there to pick Cartman up again and press him closely to his firm, safe body if things got rough.
After Kyle felt he had been embarrassed enough, he coolly suggested a game of one on one. And while Cartman hadn't played basketball since he was in elementary school and wasn't very good at it, he still agreed to play. After all, persevering with something you suck at is better than losing face.
But after Kyle effortlessly kicked his ass and continued to smugly remind Cartman of it, Cartman wasn't so sure if losing face was that bad of an idea.
When the sun began to set, the two found themselves on the swings. Watching the descending sun shine through the clouds, eclipsing the mountains and draining away their colors.
"Wow" Kyle whispered to himself, amazed at the shadows that yawned and stretched across the golden, glittering surfaces. Everything seemed to shimmer, no longer unimportant. And when he looked at Eric, the sun had draped itself over him too, every honeyed hue reflected in his face. "It's beautiful"
"Better than the view from your apartment roof?" Cartman asked.
"It's pretty close" Kyle nodded, before his voice became quiet and awestruck again. How hadn't he noticed this while he was living in Littleton? Because he was too focused in his own head. Too scared to breathe everything in and take a few seconds to appreciate things like silence and sunsets. "How could you not want to look at this everyday?"
"Beats me" Cartman shrugs, although when he and Kenny sat here, or at the abandoned picnic table, they were too busy smoking, complaining and goofing around to notice the beauty that was passing them by.
Kyle looked at Eric, praying that he wouldn't look back because sometimes it was nice to just watch him. Like when he took his eyes momentarily off the road just to stare at Eric gazing out the window and wondering what could he possibly be thinking about to make him so still, so contemplative. Or when he watched Eric shyly get dressed; as if he struggled to be anything but vulnerable in Kyle's arms. Although Kyle knew that was far from the truth. But watching him sleep, as corny and pathetic as it may sound, was Kyle's guiltiest pleasure. It started when they had only just met, after having sex for the first time and as they lay there, reeling in a heady mixture of shock and passion at what they just did, Eric fell asleep within minutes. At the time Kyle found it understandable and cute, and at the time, he didn't notice himself carefully watching Eric sleep. Back then, he told himself it was because he didn't want Eric to wake up and have no one to talk to, but now he realized it was because he couldn't possibly not want to look at Eric. He couldn't tear his eyes away from something so beautiful.
And last night again, he found himself unable to sleep. Too consumed with thoughts of Eric; some of sadness, some of worry, some of pity but most of all, infatuation. He was infatuated with Eric's story, his smile, the words he spoke, the things he thought and the emotions he exhibited. Kyle knew they all whispered one word to his heart, but Kyle was too afraid to admit it. Especially out loud. God, no matter how much time Kyle spent thinking about him, he still couldn't figure Eric out. It had been that way since the first Bud he saw Eric drink.
As much as Kyle hated to acknowledge it, Eric wasn't in the palm of his hands. If anything, he was perched on his fingertips. With the ability to fall and be lost to Kyle forever if he didn't play his cards right. But Kyle couldn't screw this up, he refused to screw this up otherwise he knew it would be the biggest mistake he could possibly make.
How could you not want to look at this everyday? Kyle thought, with only one thing on his mind. It almost made Kyle angry, how people had allowed Eric to feel so confused, isolated and unwanted. Unloved. How could anybody not want him? Not be there? But Kyle wanted him, Kyle would be there and he didn't know if that was enough for Eric, if he was enough for Eric, but Kyle knew he'd try his damn hardest to be. If Eric let him. And he sincerely hoped he would.
Clearing his throat, Kyle asked; "Eric?"
"Yeah?" Cartman answered, in way that was so unassuming that it made Kyle even more nervous.
"I know I talk a lot" Kyle began honestly, deciding to ignore the current expression on Eric's face; caught somewhere between concern and amusement "I say a lot of things. But I really hope you know what I'm trying to say, and how much I mean it"
"I do..." Cartman answered slowly, anxiety building up in his throat at hearing Kyle talk so seriously. And almost, dare he say it, nervously. Like for once Kyle was the one who felt totally clueless and in the presence of something so frighteningly new and wonderful.
"You do?" Kyle asked, practically whimpered. He was cast in a golden shadow, his red hair falling in rich curls over his shy, lilting eyes. And although it didn't make Cartman's anxiety completely evaporate, he couldn't help but smirk and melt at Kyle's shyness. There was something so unmistakably beautiful about seeing Kyle so fragile.
"Sure" Cartman nodded, speaking softly. God, how he wanted to pull Kyle closer. Although this tempting distance was nice...
"I realize now, that I've felt this way since the moment I met you" Kyle continued, the chain of the swing set creaked slightly, as Kyle dug his heels into the dirt and pushed himself forward. "Because I knew you were worth it and that you're everything I want, you're incredible"
Somehow the rocking of the swing calmed his nerves. God, he felt like a kid confessing his feelings to his elementary school crush. Maybe afterwards he and Eric could make each other daisy chains and draw their initials in the slushy snow, Kyle blushed and smirked to himself at the thought.
"Well, I didn't know that..." Cartman admitted, thankful that Kyle couldn't detect the bristling, palpable heat that stung his body all over and hear the fireworks and swoons practically pouring off his heart, making his chest hurt and tugging the corner of his mouth into a delighted smile.
"But you know that I..." Kyle began, before swallowing the pulsing block of fear that had risen in his throat, but that somehow filled his veins with the courage to say "That I love you?"
Pursing his lips together to contain a, surely undignified, noise of joy and the urge to leap off the swings and scoop Kyle up in his arms, Cartman shook his head. He loves me too.
"Oh" Kyle whispered, barely mouthing the vowel. And the way he stared into his lap and struggled to find his words only made Cartman want to kiss him more.
Setting his mouth into a defiant line and feeling the words gather in his lungs, aching to be spoken, Kyle cleared his throat and confessed vehemently "Well I do. I'm insanely, overwhelmingly in love with you, Eric"
Cartman opened his mouth like he was about to say something; but then he realized he didn't want to. He couldn't. Anything he could say would've ruined a moment that only somebody like Kyle could've crafted so wonderfully. He wondered how many people were lucky enough to have a writer tell them that they're in love with them.
Kyle swallowed at Eric's pause, laughing nervously under his breath as the need for Eric to respond was becoming an unbearable itch. Kyle imagined that either Eric was ready to leap off his fingertips and leave Kyle with just a few weeks worth of amazing, infinite memories or if he was one step closer to the palm of his hand.
"And you... Do you love me?" Kyle asked, trembling. He hated himself for asking it, it felt so callous and it tasted wrong in his mouth.
Cartman nodded at the mountains, before his gaze finally landed on Kyle, eliciting a broken, quiet sigh of relief that made Kyle cringe at himself.
"Say it" Kyle demanded, his voice wavering with a ragged, heady need that made both of their jeans tighten. Kyle's incisor skidded across his lip as he blushed hotly and whispered "Please..."
"I love you" Cartman replied, unable to control his smile. His shaking hand reached out for Kyle's and his green eyes seemed to brighten with shock when their fingers were intertwined, which only made Cartman's smile grow.
"We love each other" Cartman nodded, while Kyle smirked and squeezed his hand tighter. At a time when everything felt so uneven, Kyle was the only predictable thing. God knows he needed that.
Yes, the sunset was beautiful. But with the L Word still freshly spoken between them, all Eric and Kyle wanted to look at, was each other.
Who needed this volatile world when they could have their own? In an abandoned basketball court with the night fast approaching.
The next week was spent in a routine that was new territory for both Cartman and Kyle, and both of them were mildly startled at how comfortable and easy slipping into said routine was.
Kyle would always wake up before Eric, even if he stayed in bed an extra hour and a half trying to pull himself away from staring at his boyfriend. Boyfriend. Kyle loved the way Eric and 'boyfriend' complimented each other, such a pretty match.
Cartman would sleep in, taking full advantage of taking time off school. Which meant Kyle really didn't notice a difference in his apartment until about 12:30, at which time Eric would lazily stroll out of the bedroom, wearing boxers and a t-shirt that was crumpled up on the floor from the previous night.
Kyle would already be showered and dressed, with freshly made coffee and a deadline to meet. Although sometimes he would take a break and watch TV with Eric, whilst making notes on his laptop on the long-awaited inspiration he had encountered and who was eating fruit-loops and watching Terrance and Philip reruns on his couch. Eric would sometimes look up from his cereal and ask what Kyle was doing, but Kyle always dismissed it as nothing and told Eric to go back to what he was doing (which was basically nothing).
The evenings were spent either at the 24-hour diner around the corner from Kyle's apartment - where the two of them would talk and laugh until they were the last ones there - or at home; with Kyle trying to cook dinner and feigning annoyance at Eric's attempts to distract him. Oh, and there was the night that Stan and Gary came over, but that's another story...
Having Eric staying at his place, made Kyle discover another perk of technically living by himself. Being able to have sex wherever and whenever he wanted. And when the both of them realized this, they found it difficult to keep their hands off each other. Not like they were complaining. Especially since, during their gentler, more sensual trysts, confessions of love were usually laced in lusty moans and cries, which made sex even better.
And if it wasn't for the hospital trips and the hurt that went along with it, Cartman would've secretly admitted - as Kyle held him and kissed his shoulders after another countless round of lovemaking, or when his throat was sore from laughing too much at that crappy little diner - that this was the best week of his life. Still, seeing his mother became less of a terrifying and difficult experience when he reached his fourth trip. At least by then she was trying to sit upright in her bed, attempting to smile and actually conversing (albeit in a hoarse, little voice that Cartman desperately felt like grabbing so it wouldn't be lost forever)
That feeling, that anxious, paranoid feeling was gonna last a while, he guessed. Wanting to fiercely protect her, regardless of Nebraska, regardless of his ambivalence, and never let her go again, so she would never have to be lost.
Cartman and Kyle's first visit to the hospital was the day after they came home from South Park. As they lay in bed on, what Cartman referred to as, their 'first official night together' he promised Kyle and himself that he would visit his mom the next day.
And even though Kyle was stressing over the proper etiquette and what Eric wanted of him during his visit, and although Cartman couldn't erase the disturbing image of his mother, either covered in blood or swathed in bandages and half-dead already, or the way she sobbed as he waved goodbye to her before Nebraska and how it made him want to cry too, Kyle refused to spend the entire car journey in silence, so he turned on the radio and hoped Eric could sing better than he could. And it turns out, his voice wasn't half bad.
However, those minutes of goofiness and escapism that Cartman came to expect from Kyle when he was trying to cheer him up, all seemed to vanish when the hospital came into view.
Kyle stayed outside Lianne's room during the first visit. Eric told him it was because he didn't want Kyle to see him get worked up and upset, but as Kyle couldn't help but listen to the aching, excruciating silence as Eric lost his words and his mom was still too drugged up and drained to speak, Kyle saw through Eric's excuse. He wanted to be in the room alone because he wanted to cruelly remind himself of the fact that he was all his mother had and so he should be the first person who walks through that door to support her. Although Eric was unsure how to. If he even could, at this point. How poetic, Kyle thought sadly, and when he peaked through the small, glass window and saw Eric sitting so hopefully close to her bed, his fingers hesitating over hers, Kyle's vision couldn't help but grow misty.
As expected, back at the apartment, Eric sobbed and squirmed angrily in Kyle's embrace, almost as if he hated how he had broken down. But Kyle sat with him on the couch, kissing and murmuring into his hair and rocking him like a baby until all there was left for Eric to do was to cry quietly into Kyle's shoulder and squeeze him tightly in appreciation. Kyle couldn't shake off how overdue these tears were, how they traced back to Nebraska and every minute before it. That storm inside Eric, that made him so fascinating and attractive to Kyle in the first place, was playing out in Kyle's living room and both of them were braving it.
After Eric swore he was done crying, Kyle decided to take him down to the diner to indulge in delicious, greasy food. At the end of the night, when the witching hour had cackled by and Kyle and Eric were the only remaining customers, Eric quietly stated to the salt shaker "I'm going back tomorrow" and Kyle nodded in agreement, blushing at the surge of pride he felt for the boy sitting across the table.
Kyle dutifully waited outside Lianne's room, charting every day. On the second day, his heart broke at hearing Eric talking to himself and asking all the painful questions that his mother would never answer; awake or not. The third day, his heart leapt into his throat as he heard a parched, female voice speak back, saying one name. Two sweet syllables that loved to dance on Kyle's tongue: Eric. And he smiled tearfully at Eric's wet, trembling voice that silently throbbed with relief. On the fourth day, Kyle found himself smiling at the conversation he could overhear; and while Eric's defenses were higher than ever and his mom's voice was still dangerously brittle, Kyle figured it was a start.
But on the fifth day, Eric grabbed Kyle's hand before they could slip into their usual paradigm and warmly commanded that Kyle come in the room with him. He pulled him in before Kyle could object, and God, he had never been so nervous to 'meet the parents'.
Kyle couldn't control the gasp that slipped through his quivering mouth at seeing Lianne. Damaged, yes, but getting there. But certainly not the unnerving image Kyle remembered from the last time he saw her in this hospital bed. Color was lightly dabbed into her cheeks, her weak, struggling vitality still very clinical but Kyle could see Eric in her features clearer than ever.
"Who's this, poopsikins?" Lianne asked, her voice dry. But while Eric blushed adorably, Kyle smirked at the pet name. He'd so have to ask Eric about that later...
"Mom, this is Kahl" Cartman explained, before Kyle could "He's a very important person to me"
Now it was Kyle's turn to blush, as they sat down he turned to Eric with fondness in his smile and sudden surprise in his eyes. But Eric wasn't looking back, he was still reeling and fidgeting at the heady anxiety he felt at just admitting that to his mother. They never talked about stuff like that, ever, but Eric was starting to think that perhaps they should. As difficult as that may be.
His hand instead rested on Kyle's knee, rubbing it with the palm of his hand and resisting the ever so tempting desire to run it up Kyle's thigh, the apartment trysts they had been so often having unwillingly springing to mind.
"Oh" Lianne whispered, her heart started to thud at Eric's words. Like they were everything she had wanted to try and rebuild after Nebraska, like they were everything she had foolishly let slip past her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kyle" Lianne grinned, extending her skinny wrist, shaking with the weight of her pristine bandages. It made an unwanted shiver go down Kyle's spine at the thought of what was under those things and Eric's expression at seeing so much destruction. It pained him.
Still, Kyle shook her hand and smiled quietly to himself at how warm her hand felt. "It's nice to meet you too, Miss Cartman. Your son-" Kyle paused then, turning to Eric and exhaling thoughtfully.
"He's a wonderful young man" Kyle nodded, the honesty of his words piercing Eric in a way that made his heart float "You should be proud"
"I am" Lianne smiled distantly and Kyle guessed Eric inherited his deep, elusive eyes from her "So, are you the mystery friend Eric's been staying with?"
"Mom..." Eric muttered, his face becoming unbearably warm and he kicked Kyle's ankle when he heard his soft snickers.
"That's right" Kyle grinned.
"And I'm sure you're taken good care of him-"
"I'm eighteen, mom" Eric reminded her, folding his arms and looking like a big kid. "He isn't my fucking babysitter"
"Language, Eric" Lianne lacklusterly reminded him, like she was fed up of having to spout that phrase. And while Eric's blush grew deeper, Kyle bit the inside of his mouth to control his awkward laughter.
"Well, I hope I'm taking care of him" Kyle replied sheepishly, smirking uncontrollably, turning to Eric and saying "Honestly, he's no trouble at all, we get along great, don't we?"
Cartman could feel himself flinch, something telling him that this could be the perfect opportunity to tell his mom everything about him and Kyle, that they were in a relationship, that he was in love with him, that Kyle was ten years older (since he figured that was something mothers wanted to be aware of), but then he felt himself relax at the way Kyle was looking at him. With patience and an understanding that Cartman damn well knew he'd been missing. And he realized that all that stuff could wait, because he was here, wasn't he? And that was enough, perfectly enough, for now.
"Yeah. We do" Cartman agreed softly, his fingers trailing along the uncomfortable, plastic chair Kyle was sitting on, skimming his thigh. "He- we care a lot about each other."
And even though they couldn't have made their feelings more obvious if they tried, it still didn't stop Kyle from holding Eric's hand and squeezing it tightly.
A/N: So, they finally admitted it! Yay!
Also, when I was writing the part where Kyle is in Cartman's room, I was listening to In Your Room- Halestorm, and if you know the song already, you may have noticed the not so subtle reference.