Disclaimer: I don't own SP or the boys, although I'd like to. Or something. They belong to Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios.
XD Shamless plug: If you like Angst, go check out my story Angina and let me know what you think! It doesn't have any reviews… D: Its kinda sad…
Anyways, this chapter was fun. I hope you enjoy it…
SunglassesANDunicorns: XD Grrrly!Kyle is cute as a button, really… until he gets mad… O: then its best to just stay away from him, I think…
Helsinki Demon: I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter! I hope you like this one too… :3
Ren85: You know, the thing is that Kenny and Cartman are sorta defaulted to each other, Stan and Kyle are BFF, so its sorta like these two have no other choice… But I think that really, as time goes on, even in canon they'd end up being good friends because I think that in a way they would really get to understand each other… uh, sorta difficult to explain, but yeah, I like them as good friends too…Well, and I hope you enjoy this chapter:D
REVIEW AND I WILL SHOWER YOU WITH TELEPATHIC LOVE!
Title: Wisniowe Pocalunki
Author: Zoshi the Confused
Rating: PG-13 to M Category: South Park
Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE
Kenny watched as Kyle tackled Stan from behind. The boys toppled over onto the wet grass, laughing and cursing, wrestling over the football. Stan finally knocked the skinnier boy off of him, standing up with the ball held triumphantly up over his head.
"Ha! I win again!" Stan exclaimed happily, then proceeded to do a dance that involved some football-pelvic-thrusts and some ass shaking. Kyle stuck his tongue out at him, crossing his arms.
"You're a loser…" The redhead laughed as Stan continued his little dance.
"D'ya think they'd let me do it in the end zone?" Stan laughed.
Kyle didn't reply, just continued watching Stan as he finished his dance.
Kenny gritted his teeth, black-painted nails digging into his skin as he clenched his hands. There was a glint in Kyle's eyes, a shimmer that he'd never seen directed at him. He hungered for it, craved it like an addict. He wanted it so badly it tore him apart, and… and there was Stan, totally oblivious to the look of pure adoration being shot his way by his best friend.
It made Kenny want to hate someone. He couldn't hate Stan, that was obvious. Stan had no idea what was going on, Stan had no reason to suspect that such a look was even being directed at him by anyone other than the female half of the population.
But, he couldn't hate Kyle. He loved Kyle. He loved him with every fiber of his being. He went to sleep loving him and he woke up loving him. Every breath he took, ever thing he did, all of it was full of his love for him. It was, as Cartman put it, sappy crap, that, according to him, a guy shouldn't be feeling, much less telling his best friend about, but it was true.
So that left only one person to hate. The road the he'd taken to get to the final point wasn't apparent to him. The fact that he should hate himself was as normal and logical to him as if Kyle had come up and told him personally, himself, that that was the problem. That it was all Kenny's fault that he couldn't get Kyle to love him back. That it was his fault that his hair wasn't black enough, that his eyes weren't blue enough, that he wasn't as buff or as funny or as charming as Stan. That it was his fault that he never would be.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned his head, his eyes meeting Kyle's. The redhead was grinning at him, messed up curls falling over his eyes in the most adorable way ever, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glittering brightly.
Kyle was happy. Kyle was, actually, very, very, happy. He got to play ball and wrestle around with Stan, which was the epitome of awesome. And he also got to hang on Kenny every time they took a break, and make him kiss the pain away whenever he got a scrape or bruise.
Of course, as much fun as it was, he was also extremely careful not to do anything to much with Kenny. Stan was there, after all, and it wouldn't do much good if he thought they were totally serious for each other.
Which they weren't, of course.
"C'mon Kenny, are you just going to sit here all afternoon?" Kyle asked, pulling a bit on Kenny's arm. The former-blonde resisted, glancing out of the tree shadow he sat in at the sun in the sky. He didn't really want to go out there; for some reason the sun made him twitch a bit. Kyle wouldn't take no for an answer, and dragged him up off the ground and out into the sun.
"Kenny, finally!" Stan grinned happily at him. "Okay, here's the rules, whoever gets the ball over past those trashcans wins."
"Wins what?" Kyle asked, excited.
"Uh, wins… wins…" Stan started thinking.
"Ice cream." Kenny offered. Stan grinned.
"Yeah, ice cream!" He agreed, tossing the football into the air a few times. Kyle frowned at them.
"Ice cream?" He said with distaste.
"Yeah, the full sugar kind." Kenny said teasingly. Kyle pouted, but he continued. "So, even if you win, Stan and me will still get it."
"Yeah, and you'll just have to settle for eating the cone it comes in…" Stan laughed.
Kyle glared at them both, crossing his arms and tapping his foot angrily.
"Fine. Go. Play. Have your ice cream." He said, looking off in a different direction. Stan looked at Kenny, raising an eyebrow and grinning. Kenny just shrugged back.
"All right then, but I guess I'll have to eat that pack of Ho-Ho's I stole from your house all by myself…" Stan said sadly. Kyle snapped back to attention, staring at Stan in disbelief.
"You didn't." He said, shocked. Stan grinned, nodding. The next second he was tossing the ball to Kenny as a very angry Kyle streaked towards him growling curses.
Kenny caught the ball easily, and, after watching the two push and shove each other for a little bit, put it down on the ground and walked off. They wouldn't miss him, and he had the sudden urge to be alone for a little while.
He headed down the sidewalk, away from the park next to Stark's Pond and towards the town main. It was warm summer day, unusually warm, and most of the town's population was outside, drinking in the sun and warmth. Kenny stopped at a corner, waiting for the light to change. A couple stopped next to him, holding hands and whispering to each other. The guy pulled his girlfriend closer, giving her a light kiss on the cheek, and she giggled, throwing her arms around his waist happily.
Kenny looked away, his jaw clenching.
The light changed, and he hurried across the intersection, swearing at the sun for being so damned hot when it knew he was going to be dressed in black. Dragging a hand across his forehead, he didn't look where he was going and ran into a bench at the side of the road. He righted himself, and got an eyeful of the make-out session happening on it.
Managing to stumble away, he took cover in a shady alleyway between two buildings. Leaning back against the wall, he took a deep breath to calm down. It didn't help, his heart still pounded and his head was still ringing. He wished he could find some other excuse for it, but he couldn't, not anymore. He'd spent months, months, with Kyle, doing whatever he wanted, going whenever he called. It had seemed like a miracle when Kyle had come to him, asked him to go out with him. It had been a shock, too, since he was definite that Kyle was thoroughly taken with his best friend. People could change, he'd thought, but it didn't take long before he realized that he was just a substitute, nothing more than a convenient distraction.
He let out a groan, sliding down to the asphalt, and buried his face in his hands. Cartman was right. This was all just a charade, a farce. None of it was real, none of it actually meant something. He'd been playing along with it because it was his chance to be close, to really be close to Kyle. But that hadn't been Kyle's reason. That wasn't why Kyle had started this whole act.
He felt sick inside. His stomach was twisting around itself, his insides were writhing in agony. He didn't want it to be like this, he didn't. He wanted to be with Kyle, but he wanted Kyle to be with him, to be with him, and not because he couldn't get Stan. Just because he wanted to.
His hand fumbled in his pant pocket for a moment before pulling out his cell phone. Flipping it open, he speed dialed 3 and waited for someone to pick up.
"I'm going to tell him." Kenny's soft voice interrupted before Cartman could finish. There was a slight pause at the other end of the line, as if the other person wasn't sure they'd heard clearly.
"What." It sounded more of a statement than a question.
"I'm… I'm going to tell him." Kenny repeated, just as softly as before. Cartman breathed heavily into his phone before speaking.
"Kenneh….Kenneh, are you sure? Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, his voice low but not as hard as Kenny thought it would be.
"Yeah." Kenny replied, looking down at his shoes. The threads were starting to come out of one of them.
"Look, Kenneh, I know I'm always telling you that this whole quote-un-quote relationship thing you guys have is fucked up, but… but you do understand what can happen, right?" Cartman asked, serious. "You do know that this could fuck everything up? I mean, I know just how fucking devoted you are to him, Kenneh..."
"…I know Cartman…" Kenny said after a moment, "But I have to. I have to say it, I feel… I feel like, if I don't, I'm just going to… I don't know, implode or something… I need to get it out. I… I need to tell him…"
His voice dropped to a whisper by the end, and he closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control. He was overcome with emotions, just thinking about Kyle and how much he meant to him. He'd do anything for him, anything at all, and he wanted to tell him. He needed to tell him. He couldn't keep it in any longer.
There was a long moment of silence before Cartman spoke again.
"All right, Kenneh… Do what you gotta do…" Cartman sighed, "You know where to find me."
"Thanks Cartman." Kenny said, managing to grin slightly.
"Yeah, yeah, whateveh…" Cartman grumbled before the phone cut off. Kenny flipped his cell closed, staring at it for a long moment. Cartman wasn't always the best person to have around, but there were times when Kenny was awfully glad he had him to call on. Even if it did look like their friendship was strained, or torturous, or all those other things people said it was, he knew that past the snide remarks and cruel jokes and hurtful, offhanded comments, Cartman was one of the few people who he could really trust.
He stood up finally, putting the cell back in his pocket. He went out onto the sidewalk and began retracing his steps back to the park. Kyle and Stan were probably still there, and then he could just wait until they started to go home, and wait for Kyle and him to be alone. He readied himself; there was a good chance he'd still have to put up with some more of Kyle's hidden attempts at touching Stan as much as possible, and he didn't want to break down when he saw it.
He glanced, surprised, to see Kyle dashing down the street towards him. The redhead ran up to him and threw his arms around Kenny's neck, nuzzling his face. Kenny could feel his breath on his skin, puffing along his neck.
"You just disappeared, babe," Kyle said, kissing his cheek quickly before pulling back to look at him, puzzled. "We were looking for you, where'd you go?"
"Uh, nowhere… I was… I was just going to go stop by the store…" Kenny said, staring at Kyle. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. "But then I remembered that I forgot my money at home, and I didn't feel like swiping anything…"
"Well, come on then…" Kyle said, grabbing Kenny's arm and getting ready to spin him around.
"Kyle…" Kenny stopped him, and Kyle looked back at him, grinning. "Kyle, I love you."
"Pfft, Kenny, dude," Kyle half-snickered, half-giggled, "That's cute but--"
"I'm serious." Kenny said softly, holding Kyle's gaze in his own. A second passed, and the glitter in Kyle's eyes faded, along with the smile on his face. He let Kenny's arm drop, and a strange look came to his face, a look like he'd just been betrayed.
Without another word, he spun around and walked back the way he'd came.
"Gawd-fucking-dammit, Kenneh, five fucking hours of my fucking life…" Cartman growled, aiming the water from the shower head at Kenny's hair with one hand and running the gloved fingers of the other through the heavily lightened strands to rinse them. "Five hours, Kenneh!"
"Sorry." Kenny said quietly, eyes closed against the harsh glare of the bathroom lights.
"And you couldn't wait like a fucking normal person while I went to the store to buy this shit, right? You just had to fucking go and fucking cut yourself, right?" Cartman growled some more, accidentally splashing some water on Kenny's face. The former-and-now-once-again blonde winced as the bleach-laced water got into his eyes.
"Ow, shit Cartman! That burns…" Kenny reached up one hand to wipe at his eyes desperately.
"That burns? Huh? That burns?! How about you take off those bandages and put your fucking arms in there, huh?" Cartman shut off the water, letting the shower head fall into the tub with a clank. He tossed a towel onto Kenny's face and sat down on the bathtub edge to peel the latex gloves off his hands.
"Sounds like fun…" Kenny muttered, as he wiped his face off. Sitting down on the floor, he dragged the towel over his head a few times to get most of the water out of his hair.
Cartman tossed the wadded gloves at the wastebasket, snorting when he missed, then turned his attention back to his friend.
"And?" He asked simply. Kenny narrowed his eyes, looking hard at the bathroom floor. Cartman waited a moment, then sighed and pulled towel off the blonde's head sharply. "Kenneh…"
"…I don't know…" Kenny said finally, crossing his legs and laying his arms on his knees. He looked down at the bandages wrapped around them, sterile white dotted with red.
"Whaddya mean you don't know?" Cartman asked, then shoved him in the side with his toes when he didn't answer.
"I mean, I don't know." Kenny replied, not really clarifying anything.
"You come over to mah house, ask me to fucking help you bleach your hair back to fucking blond, and you don't know?" Cartman asked lowly. Kenny drew his shoulders into a hunch, gripping his hands together tightly and looking away. "Oh, you do know. You do know, you just don't want to tell me, right? Right Kenneh?"
Kenny closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. His scalp was itching, and he felt lightheaded from all the time he spent head down in the bathtub. There was no sound, but suddenly Cartman was sitting on the floor next to him.
"Kenneh…" He said, leaning over to try and look him in the eye.
"He… he walked away…" Kenny admitted finally, still not turning to look at Cartman.
"He… what?" Cartman asked, surprised.
"He just… walked away. First, he sorta laughed, 'cause he wasn't expecting it…" Kenny felt his throat tighten, heard his voice get thick. He stumbled over the next words, "And… a-and then when I told… when I t-told him I was s-s-serious, he just… walked away…"
He stopped then, clenching his jaw and eyes shut tightly. His heart was beating painfully, raggedly. His breath was trying to come quick, and he was fighting it, struggling to keep it under control. Cartman stayed silent beside him.
"You… you were right, Cartman…" He choked out, nodding, "You were right."
The sudden outburst, coupled with a loud thump, nearly knocked him over, and he turned to face the other boy, shocked. Cartman had one hand in his hair, gripping it tightly, the other fisted on the ground. His face was contorted with anger, but his eyes were focused on the ground, glinting with desperatoin.
"Dammit, you think I'm happy I'm right?" Cartman turned to him finally, eyes blazing. "You think I am? Fuck, Kenneh, it shouldn't have... You shouldn't have to… fuck!"
He got up angrily and started pacing the room, restraining from punching at the wall as he got close to it. Kenny watched him, surprised, and let him fume in silence for a while. He'd expected Cartman to say something along the lines of "I told you so", or let him know in some other way that this was what he'd expected. This was definitely not the reaction Kenny had been expecting.
"So…" Cartman started, stopped. After a moment he started again, "So, what're you gonna do now?"
"I…" Kenny began, then stopped. He realized he hadn't really thought about it, had been focusing on the fact that what had happened had been an all out rejection.
"Well, you're a blond again…" Cartman said, letting out a deep breath as he leaned back against the sink. He fixed Kenny with a critical look. "That says something."
"Does it?" Kenny asked, looking up at Cartman.
"It says you don't wanna be a substitute anymore…" Cartman crossed his arms.
"I don't." Kenny let his eyes drop back to the floor as he felt the twisting start up in his stomach again. Writhing, twisting, agony.
"You want…Kyle… to see you, not Stan." Cartman added, hesitating at the one name as always. Kenny nodded silently, picking at the bandages on his arms. Cartman frowned, crouching down next to Kenny to slap his hand away. Lifting his hand, he turned Kenny's face towards him and fixed him with a long, hard look.
"And what if he doesn't?" He asked, feeling the blonde tremble.
"I…" Kenny moved his mouth, but words didn't come out. What would he do? What if Kyle couldn't see him, couldn't really see him?
"What if he says that he's going to forget what you said and you two can keep doing what you've been doing?" Cartman continued, his voice low. Kenny twitched, hands fidgeting in the fabric of his pants now.
"I…" He tried to speak again, but found he couldn't. He shook his head desperately, feeling the stinging in his eyes begin, and whispered, "I love him."
"What are you going to do Kenneh?" Cartman asked, his voice softer than before. Kenny let out a low whimper, shaking his head desperately. And Cartman was still looking at him, still waiting for an answer.
"I don't know, Cartman…" The tears were forming in his eyes, and he felt the first one trickle down his cheek. His mouth moved helplessly, quietly, a little longer before he repeated, "I don't know…"
He lifted his hands to cover his face, wishing Cartman would just stop looking at him, just stop being there. He could feel the sobs coming, starting deep in his chest before crushing their way through his windpipe. He felt his heart pounding against his ribs, the stinging pain starting deep inside him. Tears flowed down his face, dripping down off his chin. He brought his knees up, leaning into them, trying to hide. He felt so lost, felt so lost from everything.
He didn't know what to do, what to think of the situation. He didn't know what to do to make it better.
He didn't know.