To Wash it All Away
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park, and my witty disclaimers have run out. U.U
Authors Note/Warnings: Sorry, all my DBZ fic fans X3. I'm just having fun. You'll get more GxV soon, I promise.
More Kyman! It's gotta be my favorite pairing in South Park (not that Style isn't yummy too). Expect fluff, kissing, cursing, slash, angst, girlish slap fights, and references to Stendy (-pukes-) that simply couldn't be helped. Two-shot. Dedicated to the CxK fans.
Shivering violently, Kyle pulled his sopping orange jacket further around his shoulders, soaked red curls falling in messy ringlets over his pale forehead. He bit his lip, forcing himself to his feet under the large tree, shoes squeaking in the mud and limp grass. Damn Stan. Damn everything.
Giving a heavy sigh, the teen darted quickly out from underneath his shelter and onto the nearby sidewalk, shuddering as he was pelted by the thick droplets of chilly water. He stared up at the grey sky, eyes narrowed in hopelessness. There was nothing else he could do. It was getting late, and the last thing he needed was to get caught in the storm so far away from home. Shuddering, Kyle grit his teeth, skidding desperately onto all-too familiar doorstep.
Holding back tears, he gave the doorbell a single ring, trembling fingers crossed beneath sopping green gloves.
Eric Cartman looked up from his position on the couch, brown eyes traveling over to the door. Who would come to see him on a Saturday? It wasn't as if he had the most friends in the world, and his mom was supposed to be gone for another week or so. Perplexed, he slid reluctantly off the pillows and padded over to the door, pulling it open. He widened his eyes.
Said Jew stood miserably in front of him, completely soaked and dripping from the rain. Viridian eyes were red and dripping with what appeared to be tears, and messy crimson locks were plastered awkwardly to one side of Kyle's face. The thinner boy trembled, dripping ushanka held under his arm. Seemingly unable to speak, he simply stared hopelessly at Cartman, pale flesh quaking as it was pounded by the cold drops.
Suddenly realizing just how miserable his childhood adversary must be, Cartman held the door open further and quickly allowed Kyle inside, shutting it behind him.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" he asked in disbelief, eyeing the splats of mud and grass stains that graced Kyle's clothing. "It's fucking cold outside, you stupid Jew!" Noticing the despondent gleam in the viridian eyes, Cartman relented, an unexpected wave of guilt twisting his stomach. "Didn't you have a baseball game or something?" he asked in what he hoped was a kinder tone, ego launching a silent protest as Kyle turned around and buried his face into his hands.
Watching the thinner boy begin to shake, Cartman took a slow step forward, brow furrowed. "…Kyle?"
"I HATE that asshole!" Kyle collapsed limply against the nearest wall, gentle sobs wracking the smaller frame as he removed his hands from in front of his eyes. "I hate him! He promised he'd never do this to me! He just left me there!" The Jew faced Cartman with an almost desperate look, cheeks red with obvious rage. "I h-hate him!!"
Completely thrown off from his usual confident façade, the larger of the two couldn't help but take another step closer, watching Kyle make an attempt to shift away. "Who are you talking about?" he inquired, inwardly shocked that he was doing such a thing. What did Kyle mean to him? Why did he care? Without prelude, he squatted down beside the Jew, leaning against the wall.
Far too distressed to make much of a fuss about the close contact, Kyle stared down miserably at the floor, shaking with cold. "Stan," he whispered out, voice seemingly having left with his last vestiges of anger. "He-he was telling W-Wendy-"
Giving up, Kyle let his head fall into his hands again, whimpering.
Cartman, never having been remotely familiar with or successful at comforting people, simply extended a hand in a sudden desire to swipe Kyle's hair from his eyes, freezing mid-reach in shock. Pulling quickly away, the larger boy took a deep breath and grudgingly offered the same hand, watching Kyle look up at him in complete confusion.
"Come on," he sighed, gesturing towards the couch. "Go lay down. I'll get you some blankets, or something."
Green eyes watery, Kyle cautiously took Cartman's hand as if he feared it would bite him, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He only got a few steps forward before collapsing shakily into the pillows, sofa thumping lightly with his weight.
"Jesus, how long were you out there for?" Cartman inquired, not really expecting an answer as he ran his eyes over the dripping orange coat and soaked pants. He bit his lip, heart swelling unexpectedly at the pitiful sight. "Stay put," he ushered before he could stop himself, taking a quick glance into the other room simply to avoid Kyle's wide, teary eyes. "I-I've got some dry clothes you can borrow. Wait here."
Mind screaming obscenities at him as he grabbed the promised articles from his chest of drawers, he took a moment to ask himself why exactly he was being so…tolerant. He hated Kyle. He couldn't abide the whiny little goody two-shoes Jew. No, he couldn't stand him.
'I can't get enough of him.'
Mentally kicking that particular bit of information back into the deep crevices of his mind, Cartman reluctantly made his way back out into the living room, dry clothes clutched under his right arm.
Kyle watched silently as a pair of large sweatpants was tossed at him, followed by a baggy blue sweater and a heavy woolen blanket. Weakly catching the former in his hands, the thinner teen shakily divested himself of his gloves, eagerly basking in the warm heat of the surrounding air. "Th-thanks," he eventually choked out, both surprised by and grateful for the unexpected acts of kindness. This was Cartman's house, for heaven's sake. He had expected to be turned away the moment he had set foot on the premises.
Hearing a soft grunt of response, Kyle slowly stripped himself of his jacket, letting it smack wetly to the floor. He did the same with his white shirt, weakly pulling the oversized sweater down over his chest and waist. Sighing as he reached down to unzip his pants, the teen looked up suddenly, eyes wide as he noticed that Cartman had sat himself down on the arm of the couch. He shivered, cheeks heating as he let his gaze fall back down to his lap.
"Eric?" he eventually managed to find his voice, fighting to hold back the blush he was certain was spreading across his face. "Did-did Stan tell you too?"
Greeted by silence, Kyle sighed and shook his head, assuming that Cartman had indeed caught wind of his secret somehow. Completely humiliated, he quickly covered his lower body with the blanket, hating his sudden absence of voice.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't hold this back anymore.
It wasn't fair.
"Tell me what, asshole?"
Too apprehensive to notice the shake in Cartman's voice, Kyle flinched noticeably and raised his head slowly, lips twitching as he tried to force himself to speak.
Part two coming soon as homework allows :D Stay tuned.