(A/n: Today is my birthday, and I am gifting myself and the readers the Twyle Kemonomimi AU I mentioned in a chapter of Stenny Short Stories, though it does not follow the plot of that of that specific short story. Trigger Warning: mention of child abuse. Also, if you read this too, Malstygian, thank you for liking my previous one-shot :) sorry it's not gonna have anymore chapters. Aaand thank you to those that wish me a happy birthday. Also, also, none of the South Park characters belong to me)
Kyle has a routine.
Every morning, he wakes up at exactly 7 o'clock, uses the toilet, takes either a warm or cold shower depending on the season (in this case, warm, since it's Autumn), then spends a meticulous amount of time drying himself off. His mother's hair dryer used to get the job done a lot quicker than a towel, but it stopped working years ago. He's been unable to get a new one. Afterwards, he puts a specialized cream on his tail to keep it from frizzing, gets dressed, ties his long, red hair into a ponytail with one of his mother's scrunchies, slips his feet into his bedroom slippers, then heads to the kitchen. His breakfasts always depend on his mood; today, he's feeling...incredibly tired. Not entirely physically though. He settles on making coffee, the caffeinated beverage gives him mixed results each time—it either provides him a small energy boost or none at all.
After the short brewing process, he pours the hot coffee into his father's favorite mug—a cherished item Kyle and his mother got him as a present for his birthday. The next thing Kyle always does is go outside with his breakfast, more specifically, on the veranda. Through the shadowed greenery, he looks ahead, observing the sky. It's clear compared to last night and unevenly divided into two colors, the vast top half is gradually brightening to a neutral shade of blue whereas the meager bottom portion is tinted a ghostly yellow, indicating the sun's leisure advancement over the horizon. The calming display complemented by the silence eases Kyle's soul, although he's not showing it. His lime-green eyes long since lost their vibrance. He goes over to a woven straw table that has two chairs made out of the same fabric on each side of it. He sits in the nearest chair, setting the mug on the table's bare surface. All three pieces of furniture were once decorated, however the flowers that used to adorn the tabletop withered and died years ago, and the handmade embroidered quilts had gotten dirty over time. Kyle didn't bother getting fresh new flowers because those, too, would've lost their lives eventually from just being watered and attaining insufficient sunlight. As for the quilts his mother crafted with her very own hands, he washed them, of course, but didn't put any of them back over the chairs and table. He never wants them to get soiled ever again.
He takes small sips from his coffee, in no rush to finish it. He relishes the tranquil quietude, though he would occasionally hear some rustling in the bushes. He ignores it. Animals tend to roam this far from the park, either having a home of their own they're returning to or to get away from the humans.
The next sip he takes is the last. His father's mug is now empty. Just like he has been feeling for the past decade. He looks at the sky again, the vaguely dark blue hue has gotten noticeably brighter and the yellow color appears the opposite. It won't be long before the sun is viewed by everyone.
Grabbing the mug, Kyle gets up and ambles back into his house, pausing when one of his ears twitches at the sound of multiple footsteps. They appear to be absconding the vicinity with haste, Kyle understanding why a split second later. His nose picks up a faint scent of blood. It's unenticing, so it doesn't belong to an animal. He lours at the front door. How annoying. Those dumb humans just had to kill someone within his territory. He proceeds into his home, deciding to mind his own business. He is not going to let a murder ruin his routine.
After breakfast, he washes the dish or dishes he used, then goes back to his room to sleep.
.
.
.
He wakes back up in the afternoon, the time varies each day. His alarm clock shows him 12:45 p.m. He sits up in bed, staring blankly across his room, his hair all over the place. He's not one to toss and turn in his sleep, he stopped doing that at the age of thirteen, when he stopped caring about the apprehensive insults he and his parents received after leaving their village. Well, he still does to this day...
He shakes his head, ridding away the unpleasant memories along with the nightmare he had. Removing the covers over his lap, he slides his legs over the edge of his bed, sticking his feet into his bedroom slippers. He stands up and turns around, searching the bed for the scrunchie. He finds it instantly. He puts it on top of his nightstand, then walks to his bathroom, needing to use the toilet again. He fixes his hair afterwards by brushing it until it's smooth. He leaves both the bathroom and his bedroom, going to the kitchen.
In the afternoons, he brews himself tea, Oolong tea to be exact. Normally, he would whip up a sweet snack to go along with it, but not today. He doesn't feel like it, neither does he have the craving for it.
While he waits, standing before the stove as a floral aroma slowly begins to pervade the air, he can't help but recall bits of his nightmare. He grimaces. No, he shouldn't refer to it as that. Instead, it was a tragic evocation that the blood he smelled this morning brought up.
Kyle was but an 8 year old child in the memory and when the tragedy occurred, hiding behind a corner in a dank and dark alleyway. His parents died the instant a bullet went right through their skulls, however the heartless humans did not stop there, even when their bodies fell to the ground, unmoving. They did not believe that they were dead, hybrids were known to have extraordinary regeneration. The two humans riddled their bodies with too many bullet holes for Kyle to count. They fled when their guns ran out of ammo, cackling and jeering into the silent night. Kyle will never forget the pungent scent of his parents' blood, nor their bloody faces frozen in horror through his tears.
He blinks. He knows he's been absentminded for too long when he notices the liquid in the pot appearing a little dark. He turns the fire off, takes the tea bag out by the string, then throws it into the trashcan. He grabs a pitcher from the dishwasher and his father's mug from the top cabinet. He pours some tea into the mug, filling it almost to the brim. He pours the rest into the pitcher and deposits it inside the refrigerator. He carefully seizes the mug by its arched handle, raises it up to his lips, and gently blows his drink. Once he sees no more steam coming out of it, he tastes the tea.
"Hmm..." The flavor is not bad, it just lost a bit of its usual sweetness.
Kyle looks at the front door, hesitant to go outside again. He's sure the human cadaver has completely tainted the air, and he doesn't want to breathe in such fetor. Just the thought makes him nauseous. He takes a few deep breaths. But at the same time, he can't leave a corpse near his property to rot away with time. Perhaps the least he can do is bury it, to cover up the stench.
This is where his never-changing routine steers off course.
"Tch."
His mind set, he puts the mug down on the dining table as he walks to the front door. He slips out of his bedroom slippers and puts on his sneakers. He places a hand on the doorknob, steeling himself first. He once again curses the humans from earlier for disrupting the decade-long peace with their brutish antics. Gripping the knob tightly out of anger, he turns it and pushes the door.
"Ugh!"
"Hahaha!"
Kyle pauses, his eyes still narrowed and the door halfway ajar. That sounded like a grunt followed by laughter. His keen olfaction yet again detects a barely perceptible bitter and metallic scent, it's the same one from this morning. How odd, he thought it would be stronger by now.
He steps out of the house, closing the door as quietly as he can. So it seems that those humans didn't kill anyone, they beat them up and have returned to do it again. Kyle saunters to where the humans are, which is somewhere off to the side behind his house thanks to the cluster of twigs on the ground. He doesn't need to be discreet since they're enjoying themselves. He's quite relieved that they retained some of their humanity, though he will not tolerate any violence either.
Past an opening created in the middle of a throng of bushes, Kyle sees four humans: three of them ganging up on one that's hunched over on the ground in front of a tree. He steps through the opening.
"What the hell do you bastards think you're doing?"
Startled, the three men stop and spin around.
"O-oh shit! It's the blood fox!" One of them exclaims, clearly terrified. Kyle hardens his scowl.
The trio scream and dash off.
Kyle makes no attempt to go after them, he just better not ever see them here again. He frowns at their victim, who's now unconscious. His spiky, blonde hair and clothes are covered in dirt, bits of sticks, and leaves. His face is beaten black and blue, a string of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Kyle is sure there are more injuries on his body hidden underneath his long-sleeved shirt and pants.
Kyle heaves a sigh and nears him. He can't leave him here or he will actually die, plus his conscience won't allow him to turn a blind eye to someone in need. He may hate humans, but he will not stoop to their level. He slings the male's arm around his shoulder before standing up, noting how light he feels. Kyle knew he had a thin physique when he first laid eyes on him, but he didn't think he was that skinny. He shakes his head and trudges to his house, keeping a firm hold on the human's wrist and waist, his feet dragging along. He thinks it's best not to concern himself with a stranger any further, he's already helping him. That's as far as he's willing to let his generosity go.
It's no struggle entering his home. He closes the door with his foot and brings the human over to his sofa, gently laying him down on it. He goes to his bathroom to get his first-aid kit. It's hardly been used.
When he comes back, he hears the young man groaning, rounding the couch to see him trembling. All of a sudden, his eyes snap open. Kyle nearly drops the kit out of shock.
Blue-green eyes direct themselves at the redhead. "GAH!" The male screams, bolting up onto his feet. "W-where am I?" His hasty movement left him breathless.
"My home," Kyle replies calmly.
The blonde gives the first-aid kit in his hands an overwrought stare. He winces with a hiss, wrapping an arm around his waist.
"Please sit down, so I can-"
"N-no."
Kyle furrows his eyebrows, puzzled by the denial. The feeling doubles when the male limps towards the front door.
"T-thank you for s-saving me." Then he's gone, pulling the door closed.
Kyle walks back to his bathroom. That was very strange. The human didn't appear frightened by him, not after he'd gotten a good look at Kyle. So it makes him wonder why he didn't want to receive any treatment. Did he not trust Kyle's medical capabilities? Was he uncomfortable? Or did he not want to be indebted to Kyle?
The half-fox disregards all of those possibilities as he places the case back in its original spot. He shouldn't care what the reason is; if the guy ends up succumbing to his injuries, then that's his own fault. Though he hopes he doesn't collapse to close to the area, the people who go to the park would think he was the one gave him those contusions. That's a misunderstanding he would like to avoid.
Stepping out of his room, the lingering fragrance of flowers reminds him of his tea. It's most definitely cold now. He goes to the dining table, contemplating reheating his tea in the microwave. It would lose its flavor, so he quickly thinks against it. He sips the cold beverage. It tastes the same. Since the troublesome bunch are no longer here, he can enjoy the rest of his afternoon outside.
Well, after he cleans up first. He inspects the state of his sofa, it's dirty, as he expected it to be. The floor too, though it isn't because of his shoes. Heaving a sigh, he gets the broom and dustpan that's positioned against the counter.
That night, Kyle receives an unexpected visitor and he is not happy.
He was in his room, reading a book he'd gotten from off his bookshelf when he heard soft knocking at the door. He ignored it at first, but when the knocking resumed again, he knew he had to see who was out there. He stuck a bookmark on the page he was forced to stop at, closed the book and set it on top of his nightstand, then pulled the covers off of him. He slipped his feet into his comfy bedroom slippers before standing up. He walked to the front door just as there's another composed bout of knocking.
He checked the small window in the door from under the short curtain, recognizing the pointy hairstyle through the darkness. It appears even messier and filthier.
"Why's he here again?" Kyle mutters as he steps back. He unlocks the door and opens it a little, about to peek until his nose is hit by a powerful familiar odor. He grimaces in absolute disgust and covers his nose.
"P-please...he-help..."
He sounded like he was in immense pain. Once again, Kyle cannot neglect an injured person. He opens the door all of the way, catching the male when he falls forward. He pulls him inside, using his tail to nudge the door closed. He settles him down on the sofa, then hurries off to get the first-aid kit. He returns with it and examines the severity of the blonde's injuries while he opens the case on the wooden coffee table. The only thing he perceives is the blood percolating profusely through his shirt, right above his stomach. No wonder the stench is so strong. It seems he sustained no other new injuries. Just what the hell happened these past eight hours?
Kyle goes to his bathroom again, grabbing a towel and a washcloth. He dampens the washcloth under warm water, and squeezes it until it's no longer dripping. He returns to the living room, getting down on his knees beside the young man as he sets the towel next to the first-aid kit. He holds the washcloth. He lifts up the male's shirt, who lets out a hiss when his wound is exposed to the air around him, agitating it with its fake cold temperatures. Kyle gives his punctured abdomen a closer look, to know the full extent of it. Just as he assumed earlier, the male does have more bruises on his torso. He's lost a lot of blood, however he wasn't stabbed too deeply. Kyle will be able to tend to him, instead of drop him off near a hospital. Though, he still might need to do that anyway.
Kyle gets to work, trying his damnedest to ignore the effluvium. He keeps swallowing the rising bile until he finishes. It took him almost an hour, he didn't stop to take any breaks. He rushes to his bathroom to vomit. After the death of his parents, he abhors blood—the sight and smell of it makes him sick. At one point, his own appearance repulsed him, but after ten years of being unable to change anything about himself, he had no other choice than to accept the way he was.
After flushing the toilet, Kyle rinses out his mouth with water a couple of times to get rid of the acrid tang. He uses a dry washcloth as a mask before going back into the living room. He sees the blonde fast asleep, his bruised cheeks flushed. Kyle's eyebrows furrow, denoting a frown. He develops an urge to treat the rest of the human's injuries. He can't fathom why, really. Perhaps it's because he feels he won't be able to get a good night's sleep otherwise, plus it was something he was going to do initially until he was abruptly denied. Well, there are his answers.
Releasing a muffled sigh, the redhead appeases his compulsion to provide further remedy to the human's bruises.
Come morning, Kyle is roused awake by a groan. He makes the same noise as he opens his eyes with feeble flutters of the eyelids. He pushes himself up, not able to recall how or why he was laying on the floor—his body achy, his mind fuzzy, and his stomach queasy.
Putting a hand on his head, Kyle looks at the sofa, realizing he's in between that and the coffee table. The human is barely conscious, his breathing heavy due to his fever.
Feeling a little sick himself, Kyle stands up, using the low table as support. He plods to his bedroom, going to his nightstand. His alarm clock shows the time, 10:44 a.m. He opens the top drawer, in it are several scented candles and two lighters. He's going to need to restock on these items soon. Sighing, he takes a random candle and a lighter, and ignites the wick.
The wispy scent of vanilla and a hint of cinnamon begins to soothe his senses. He waits until the nauseating feeling disappears without a trace; the candle has engulfed his room with its saccharine zest by then. Putting the lighter back in the drawer, he closes it, then walks out. Upon entering the living room, the candle thoroughly negates the malodor of blood, much to his liking. He sees that there is minimal space on the coffee table (noting that he will have lots of cleaning to do later), so he takes the candle to the dining table.
He goes over to the human, who's back asleep. It's apparent to Kyle that this guy will have to stay here for awhile, at least until his stomach heals. First things first is getting rid of his fever. Kyle had him consume only an ounce of it last night, after he was done tending to his old injuries. Grabbing the medicine bottle and the small plastic cup that's next to it on the coffee table, Kyle twists off the lid and pours the dark-colored liquid into the medicine cup up to 20 ml. He hovers the cup near the human's nose, allowing the bittersweet smell to wake him. It works a few seconds later.
"Drink," Kyle says as soon as his eyes open a crack.
The male releases a long groan as if he's dying, but complies nonetheless. Kyle feeds him, being careful all the while. After the blonde drinks all of the medicine, he stays awake this time, staring vacantly at nothing as Kyle tidies up the mess on the coffee table.
"I'm sorry..."
Kyle's hands go taut, his accustomed frown creasing slightly more. He doesn't know what to say to that, not because it was random, but because the blonde truly meant it. Kyle is still peeved that his solitary lifestyle was disturbed, however he can't pin the blame on him specifically. He was the victim, after all. So, Kyle just hums and resumes what he was doing, neither accepting nor rejecting the stranger's sincere apology.
Though...he is a curious human. Kyle thinks it's only fair that he knows why the guy has been getting abused, as well as know why he suddenly got stabbed.
A concerning thought manifests in Kyle's mind, making him tense up. What if the blonde is some sort of criminal? He knows not to judge a book by its cover, thanks to a novel he used to read, but what other reason could there be? And that's when he thinks about the other's parents, what made him come to Kyle instead of them? Was it because he didn't want to trouble them? Or because he was in the area?
Kyle exhales deeply through his nose. The more he thinks, he'll inevitably get a headache. When he hears heavy breathing, he knows that the blonde fell asleep. He decides to go freshen himself up.
.
.
.
Kyle feels refreshed after a nice and relaxing twenty-five minute shower, until he steps foot into the living room. His stomach churns at the condition of the slumbering human's shirt, he is so glad the scented candle is still providing pleasant fumes. Kyle will need to change the male's shirt, and the gauze. With a heavy sigh, Kyle gets started on the arduous tasks.
He first changes the bloody gauze, disappointed at his sloppy work. It was difficult to focus with the red fluid overwhelming his senses. He does a better job this time, then cleans off the bloodstains with the washcloth he used to cover his nose and mouth. When he tries to remove the blonde's top garment, so he can replace it with one of his own, his eyes open in a panic.
"Don't worry, I'm just going to put you into a new shirt," Kyle says tonelessly, though reassuringly.
"I-I'll...do it," the blonde-haired human murmurs, sounding...embarrassed? Well, whatever.
Kyle hands him the shirt. "Be sure to take your shoes off," he says, walking away. He ponders if he should handle the dried blood on the floor first or sweep up the dirt. He quickly settles on the former; if he waits any longer, the stains will be more of a pain to clean.
Hours pass in a blur. Kyle is currently sweeping the living room floor. The blonde shows signs of waking up. The groan that leaves his mouth is short and weak. Kyle dumps the debris of nature into the trashcan, putting the broom and dustpan back beside the counter. He walks over to the dining table and sits in a chair where he can see the human properly.
"Care to tell me why you appeared before my doorstep last night with a stab wound?"
The blonde makes a face, it's an expression of pain, indignation, and guilt. "I...guess I owe you an explanation." At least he's self-aware of the fact. He breathes out an emotional sigh before he speaks again. "I-I live with an abusive family, well used to. I was told that my real parents abandoned me in an orphanage when I was a baby, so I stayed there until I was adopted at 10 years old...I thought my new parents were nice people, but I soon found out that they weren't." His face darkens with anger. "They're evil bastards who take pleasure in hurting people. Those three guys you saw yesterday were hired to 'teach me a lesson' whenever I ran away from home, and last night...well..." He falls silent for a moment or two, his expression hard to decipher. "Let's just say those assholes are the reason I'm homeless now," he says, ending on an enigmatic note.
For the first time in ten years, Kyle experiences more than a single emotion all at once and they show on his countenance. He cannot believe what he just heard. The guy, who he now knows is no older than he is, has gone through so much, yet his eyes haven't lost their shine.
"Have you ever gone to the police?" Kyle asks quietly.
He barely sees the teen's lips thin into an insouciant smile. "Oh, I forgot to mention that my former adoptive parents are rich. Reporting them for abuse and attempted murder won't work."
Because they'll buy their way out, Kyle realizes. Damned humans and their bullshit laws. "Then what about those three guys they hired?" He asks. Surely, they'll get punished.
"They're dead." Kyle didn't anticipate an answer like that. "I made sure to kill them last night...before coming here."
"Hmph, so you came to my house on purpose," Kyle says, miffed.
The blonde appears conscience-stricken. "I'm sorry, really."
"Whatever, " Kyle sighs. He stands up. "Once you are over your fever and your wound has healed, you are to leave and never come back." He turns away.
"But...w-where will I go?"
Kyle heard the sadness and dread in the teen's voice, and he only appears unfazed. "That's for you to figure out."
"Please!"
Kyle jolts at the sudden exclaim, spinning around to see the blonde crying.
"Please let me stay! Please!" He starts coughing. "I-I'll...do a-anything," he says between coughs.
Kyle frowns uncomfortably. "That won't be necessary. Just calm down."
"I'll end up dead on the streets or in jail if I leave! Please, I'm begging you!" The teen goes into another coughing fit.
Kyle feels even more uneasy. What he said is likely true, considering he killed people, no matter if it was for self-defense. He's basically a criminal now, for real this time. But no one has ever trespassed into the 'blood fox's' territory until yesterday. Since the bad guys are dead, perhaps he can... "O-okay, fine. You...can stay."
The blonde gives him a small smile of relief. "T-thank you..." He slumps onto the pillow behind him, unconscious.
"..." Kyle sincerely hopes he doesn't regret this.
One week in, Kyle doesn't regret his decision at all. The continuation of his routine greatly surprised him. He originally thought having a human around longer than intended would've been troublesome, however he was proven wrong when Tweek (he learned his name a couple of days ago) mostly kept to himself. After his fever subsided and his wound started hurting less, he only ever talked to Kyle to inquire about the things he could and couldn't do, asked for permission to use certain things, and asked to wear some of his clothes...and underwear. Kyle liked how polite and considerate he was, must've been taught to behave that way at the orphanage.
One morning, the two teens have breakfast together. It reminds Kyle of the days he and his parents spent every meal together, those moments were always nice. He also discovers that Tweek really likes coffee. That same day during the afternoon, Tweek joins him out on the veranda. He was hesitant at first, thinking he would be spotted by those passing by at the park, but Kyle ebbed his worry when he told him hardly any people come this way and when they do, they ignored him out of fear. His last statement made Tweek curious and a little fearful, but he asked no questions. They bask in the peaceful silence until the sun starts setting. Dinner has a similar ambience like this morning's, although there is a bit of conversing.
Before Kyle even knows it, a month has gone by uneventfully. Tweek recovered nicely from his injuries. They're eating breakfast when Tweek strikes up a conversation.
"C-can I ask...why you're called the blood fox?"
Swallowing his food, Kyle shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. It's just a nickname me and my parents were given after going into the city once."
Tweek frowns at his food. "Oh...I love your cooking, by the way."
Kyle raises an eyebrow. "Now you do?"
"I-I always did, it's just...I-I didn't mention it the first day because I didn't want to offend you."
Kyle frowns at the warm feeling in his chest. "Well, thanks. Aren't you curious about what happened to my parents?"
Tweek tightens his lips into a line. "They...passed away...didn't they?"
"They were killed when I was a kid. Shot multiple times to ensure they were dead."
Tweek grimaces, clenching the utensil in his hand tightly. "...Oh my God..." He barely managed to get those three words out, he's appalled and upset.
"Best finish eating before your food becomes cold," Kyle says after a minute of silence.
"Mm," Tweek hums, taking tiny bites of his meal, his appetite gone.
The rest of the day flies by with little talk. Once it's dark out, Kyle goes into his parents' bedroom and Tweek enters his, bidding each other goodnight. They swapped rooms last month, when Tweek was well enough to move about. Kyle does his routinely reading on the bed, his father also has a bookshelf, mostly focused on the time rather than the words in the book. Earlier, he noticed that there were some items that needed to be replenished. He plans to go 'shopping' tonight, as soon as Tweek is asleep.
Once that happens not even an hour later, Kyle puts on the black hoodie he stored into the closet, then heads out while pulling the hood over his head. Unfortunately, he can't conceal his tail, but he's 'shopped' enough times that it doesn't matter anymore.
It takes him four minutes to reach the convenience store he sometimes frequents around this time. It's closed, and what's even better is that there's nobody nearby, not even any cars. He runs to the back of the store, lock pick at the ready. He forces the door unlocked with ease and opens it slowly. He was careless the first time he did this, this door will let out a shrill noise akin to a siren.
Now inside, Kyle hurries to the front. Making sure no cars are approaching, he grabs a basket and begins 'shopping'. Since he's no longer living alone, he'll need to acquire twice as much, that being food. For now, he settles on getting sustenances of his preference. Once he learns more about what Tweek likes and dislikes, he'll start getting his preferred foods.
He vacates the small store with a stuffed basket. This is the most he's ever gotten in a long while. He locks the backdoor with the lock pick, then hurries home, being extra cautious.
He makes it to his house at the same time frame as when he arrived at the convenience store, undetected. He sees that the light is on inside. When he enters, he spots a panicking Tweek sitting on the sofa.
"Kyle!" His smile of relief drops into a frown at the sight of him carrying a basket full of groceries. "You...did you-"
"What are you doing up?" Kyle asks, tone sharp and his eyes narrowed.
Tweek flinches, perturbed by his glare. "I-I wanted t-to ask you if I could read another one of your books, b-but...you were suddenly gone."
His trembling afflicts Kyle with remorse, he didn't know his brief disappearance would frighten him. "Well to answer your first question, yes, I did steal these," he says, gesturing the basket he's holding by lifting it slightly. He walks to the kitchen. "And as for your second question, yes, you can read another book. You don't have to ask every time you finish reading one."
"...O-okay..." Tweek retreats to his bedroom.
The following morning, breakfast is awkward. It's obvious to Kyle that his presence has now put Tweek on-edge, which is funny considering he's a literal criminal. Stealing groceries isn't anywhere near as bad as murdering people. But Kyle doesn't let the spiky-haired blonde's nervy behavior get in the way of his routine.
That afternoon, while he's in the middle of preparing Oolong tea, the pressure of Tweek's staring is starting to grate on his nerves.
"If you have something to say, then say it. Your eyes can't convey your words out loud."
Kyle turns away from the stove when he doesn't get a response, seeing Tweek fidgeting with his hands, his eyes to the floor. Kyle lets out a silent sigh and turns back to the stove, waiting for the tea to finish, which doesn't take long.
Holding his father's mug filled with hot tea, Kyle walks to the front door. "C'mon." Tweek goes with him outside. They sit in the chairs on the veranda. Kyle sets the mug on the table, letting the soft, fresh breeze cool his beverage. The tree leaves, whether they've fallen or not, are a variety of warm colors; red, brown, and gold. "I know you have a lot of questions," Kyle says, admiring the pacific essence of Autumn. "Do you want to ask them now or will you continue to be anxious around me?"
Tweek tenses. "I-I...Sorry."
"Did finding out that I steal unnerve you that much?"
"N-no, not really. It just took me by s-surprise."
"It's not something I like doing, honestly," Kyle says calmly.
"Then why-"
"It's a must, in order to live." Kyle becomes aware of Tweek's gaze on him. "The humans fear me just because of my appearance. Me nor my parents ever did anything wrong, yet they were killed for no reason and I was forced to live in seclusion."
"How...are you not angry?" Tweek asks.
"I'm numb to the feeling. Instead, I've been harboring a deep hatred towards humans."
"If you hate humans, then why did you help me more than once?"
Kyle meets Tweek's eyes that are brimming with tears. "Unlike your kind, I don't sit by when I see someone getting treated unfairly."
Tweek looks away, wiping his eyes. Kyle drinks his tea, it's warm and flavorful.
"You don't need to pity me," Kyle says. "We've both been through a great deal of hardships, what matters the most is that we overcame them."
"Y-you say that, but your eyes gave up hope a long time ago."
Kyle's expressionless mien almost crumbles. "How have you managed to keep yours then?"
"By knowing that not all people are bad."
"Has anyone aside from me ever helped you before?"
"N-no. They were scared of them," Tweek says, referring to his adoptive parents with disdain.
"Hmph, figures." Kyle takes more sips of his tea. If the police weren't able to intervene, then of course ordinary citizens wouldn't have been able to either.
"U-umm..." Tweek utters tentatively.
"What is it?"
"Do you have any other flavors of tea?"
Kyle regards him quizzically. "I thought you didn't like tea." When he offered to pour him a cup two weeks ago, he refused.
"I-I would like to give it a try, just not the one you always drink."
Kyle makes a mental note of this. "I have other flavors. You can choose one once all of the Oolong tea is gone."
Tweek seems pleased. "Okay."
The month is halfway over with. The winds are getting colder, but Kyle and Tweek persist through it, unlike the tree leaves. Very few remain on their branches.
Tweek has been acting odd lately. Kyle can't really comprehend why. There was a single incident that warranted Tweek's sudden change. It was when they were about to read a novel together one night after dinner. Tweek had suggested it.
Kyle went to go get the book meanwhile Tweek sat on the sofa, waiting. When he returned and a took a seat next to him, Tweek reacted as if he'd seen a ghost. Kyle naturally thought he did something wrong, but Tweek told him through his stuttering that his tail tickled him. Kyle knew to be mindful of the position of his tail since then on.
"H-have you ever thought about walking around the park?"
Kyle and Tweek are gazing at said park that afternoon, their teas cooling down on the table.
"No. Don't want to draw any attention to myself."
"But you said hardly any people come this way. W-we can just stroll on this side."
Kyle looks at the blonde-haired human, a little annoyed by his insistence. "What brought this on? Boredom?"
Tweek gives a timid nod of his head. "W-we haven't done anything new for half a month."
"This has always been my routine until you and those scumbags you killed ruined it."
Tweek frowns apologetically. "I'm sorry."
Kyle sighs. "Are you sure you want to risk it?"
Tweek mulls over his answer for a few seconds. "Y-yeah."
Grabbing his father's mug and Tweek's cup, Kyle stands up and takes them into the house, putting them in the refrigerator. He comes back out wearing his sneakers. "Let's go then."
The two teens wander into the park, staying on the wavy pathway. Kyle stares ahead while Tweek admires the scenery.
A little while later, Kyle and Tweek pass by another path just as a human couple were heading their way. They stop once they see them—Kyle, specifically.
"I-is that the blood fox?!" The woman whispers.
"I think so, l-let's turn back. Don't wanna get cursed."
"...Huh, so that's why."
Tweek looks at Kyle with a frown. "They think you curse people?"
"Apparently so. If only I actually had that kind of power."
Tweek distinguished the genuine disappointment in his deadpan tone of voice. "S-sorry for forcing you to do this."
Kyle waves his hand dismissively. "It's whatever. Being feared has its perks, as you just saw."
"I...guess so," Tweek murmurs, not really understanding.
They walk in silence until they spot a group of humans and hybrids idling about. They turn around, resuming their stroll, though Tweek is trailing slightly behind Kyle.
A cool breeze sways the nearby trees, and Kyle's and Tweek's hair. Tweek watches a golden leaf flutter onto Kyle's head, landing right between his fox ears. One of them twitches. Tweek blushes a bright red, thinking the slight movement was cute. He extends a hand up to Kyle's head at the exact moment the redhead does. Their fingers touch.
"Gah!" Tweek retracts his hand so fast as the two stop walking. "I-I'm so sorry!"
Kyle takes the leaf from off his head and lets it get blown away by the wind. "It's okay, relax." He sees the redness in Tweek's cheeks darkening, has he come down with a fever? "Let's go home."
"Mm."
They walk back home. The tender gust susurrating the trees is very calming to listen to, only Kyle is relishing the gentle sounds while Tweek's mind seems to be somewhere else.
They reach the house. Tweek doesn't realize this until he brushes against Kyle's arm. The physical contact rattles him out of his thoughts.
"Take some medicine, then rest," Kyle tells him.
"I'm not sick," he says under his breath.
"Your face is red."
"That's because..." Tweek starts to say, but tenses as he trails off. He shakes his head. "I-I don't know, never mind."
There he goes behaving weirdly again. Kyle narrows his eyes. He grabs Tweek's hand and pulls him into the house, shutting the door with his other hand. Tweek's quivering lips concern him. "Is there something I did to make you act this way?"
Tweek nips his bottom lip, not able to look Kyle in the eyes. He wants to run away to his room. "N-no. I-I can't explain it...I've never felt this way before."
Kyle knits his eyebrows, confused. "Never felt what before?"
Tweek shakes his head again. "I don't know."
Kyle is starting to get irritated by his half-assed responses. "If you're lying-"
"I'm not!" Tweek yells, finally locking eyes with dull lime-green ones. He gently squeezes Kyle's hand and raises his palm up to his chest.
Kyle's eyes go big. Tweek's heart is beating incredibly fast. "Are you having a heart attack?!"
Tweek manages a weak smile. "That's what it feels like. It slowed down a little while we were walking home, but sped up again when you grabbed my hand."
The shock leaves Kyle's system, but he's still worried. "So you don't need to go to the hospital?"
"No." Tweek lowers their hands, then slowly lets go, as if he's reluctant to. "But...I think I need some time to myself."
Kyle nods. "Okay, rest if you need to."
"Mm." Tweek walks to his room.
Kyle raises his hand up to his chest, looking down at his palm. Every beat of Tweek's heart feel as though they're reverberating on his skin. Curling his fingers, Kyle drops his hand and decides to beguile the time with a book.
.
.
.
When the sun colors the sky in an amber tinge, Tweek exits his room. Kyle, who's about to get started on cooking dinner, notices him. He looks abashed yet also relieved?
"I've figured it out."
Kyle is momentarily confused, remembering the unknown feeling Tweek couldn't explain earlier. "What is it?"
The developing blush practically shining underneath the lights, Tweek closes the distance between them with nervous strides. Now face to face, Tweek says, "I...like you."
His confession renders Kyle speechless. The half-fox repeats what he said in his head at least five times, eventually making his insides strangely warm. "You...like me?"
Tweek nods, struggling not to look away. "O-one of the books taught me what it means when your face feels hot and your heart starts racing."
Kyle blinks. "I didn't know there was a book like that here."
"I-it was about romance."
"Oh..." Kyle was never really interested in that genre, it always got in the way of the action, suspense, or horror.
"Are you...disgusted?"
Kyle arches an eyebrow. "No, why would I be?"
Tweek looks down as he fiddles with his fingers. "B-because I'm a guy, and also..." His face forms into a sad frown as he ceases the movement of his fingers. "Human."
"A human I let live me," Kyle says.
Tweek's frown shifts into a wry smile. "Only because I begged you."
"Had you not, you wouldn't be here right now." Tweek's emotionally pained expression makes Kyle feel like a jackass. He's never had this many verbal interactions with someone before, he lacks proper conversational etiquette. No book he's previously read taught him the right and wrong ways to communicate to people of the same or opposite gender, but that's because he never paid any attention to the information. He rubs the back of his neck, his ears flattening against his head. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh."
Tweek is silent for a moment. "I'm not in the mood for dinner." He ambles back to his room.
As Kyle watches him walk away, a desire to stop him becomes too strong for Kyle to ignore. He hurries to catch up to Tweek, grasping the hem of his shirt, hindering him in place. A tense silence hangs in the atmosphere until Kyle musters up the courage to speak.
"I don't hate you, even if you are a human. But I can't return your feelings. I don't understand what it means to like someone romantically or to be liked in that way. My parents...never got the chance to teach me."
The absence of sound this time is as flimsy as a sheet of a paper. Tweek turns around, his head angled down, so Kyle can't see his face. He wraps his arms around Kyle, taking him by surprise.
"I can wait," is all Tweek says, then he's gone to his room, missing the faint blush on Kyle's cheeks.
Tweek really meant what he said that evening. His patience was unshakeable.
Two months. It took Kyle one month to develop the same sentiment as Tweek, and the next month to come to terms with those feelings.
That same day Kyle reciprocated Tweek's feelings, they start off taking things slowly, such as hugging and kissing each other on the cheek. Doing both of those makes them madly flustered. Tweek proposes, although shyly, that they hug and kiss each other on the cheek every day to get used to them, only when the moment was right though. Kyle nods, thinking it's a good idea.
The next morning, Tweek disregards the butterflies in his stomach as he gives Kyle a hug and a smooch on his cheek before he could prepare breakfast. Kyle blushes, however the red color doesn't match his hair and tail this time.
"Good morning to you too," Kyle says, flashing Tweek a smile so prepossessing that it looks ethereal. Tweek wishes his eyes weren't devoid of vitality though, perhaps he'll be able to restore some light into them with time.
Kyle takes the initiative the following morning. His embrace is warm and so is his kiss.
After they overcame that hurdle with ease, they take it a step further: kissing on the lips. They're in the living room, seated close to each other on the sofa. Both could practically hear each other's hearts pounding amid the silence. Tweek decides to go first. The instant his lips grazes Kyle's, he withdraws.
"I-it's too much pressure!" His heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest.
So, Kyle gives it a shot and doesn't hesitate. He gently turns Tweek's head his way and presses his lips against his. Tweek's nerves instantly calm down as he melts into the kiss, his eyes dropping closed. They kiss for an extra second longer, then Kyle separates, releasing Tweek's chin. The blonde opens his eyes, trying not to look discontent.
"H-how was it?"
Tweek smiles. "Amazing."
For every morning, they either hug and kiss on the lips or just kiss. During those moments, Tweek discovered Kyle's sexy side, though it didn't come as a huge shock. Kyle is...one word isn't enough to accurately describe his attractiveness.
One night, however, after they finish reading their respective books, Tweek feels disinclined to leave Kyle's side. Before they go their separate ways, Tweek grabs Kyle's free hand, stopping him.
"C-can we sleep in bed together?"
The question makes Kyle blush, despite his bemusement. "Why all of a sudden?"
Tweek stares deeply into his eyes. "I don't want to be apart from you."
His face getting a little hotter as his blush becomes almost beet red, Kyle doesn't register his tail wagging. "O-okay."
They go into Tweek's bedroom, Tweek putting his book back on the bookshelf while Kyle sets his book on the nightstand. He turns the lamp off. They get into bed, laying on their side, facing each other.
"G-goodnight, Kyle."
"Goodnight, Tweek."
Is what they say, but no one closes their eyes. Tweek isn't sleepy, and neither is Kyle.
"Uh, t-this is awkward," Tweek says sheepishly.
"You're the one who wanted to sleep together."
"Y-yeah, but..." Tweek falls silent for a moment. "C-can I, um, scoot closer?"
"S-sure."
Tweek is about to scooch himself over until Kyle gently pulls him close to his chest. Tweek smiles as he closes his eyes, he has never felt so safe before. Meeting Kyle was the best thing to have ever happen to him.
Kyle's earthy scent and comforting embrace lull Tweek to sleep.
(A/n: I really didn't mean to make this long but, uh, yeah. Can tell I'm rusty with one-shots lol I still hope you enjoyed)