To Wash it All Away
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park, and my witty disclaimers have run out. U.U
Authors Note/Warnings: Part II of II :D Enjoy the end. -lips are sealed- Oh, and whether the ending makes sense or not is up to you.
PS. I think I got a little too serious with this. -_- Damn my English teacher-ness.
Part II -
"I'm a fag."
Cartman stared back in shock as he watched Kyle bury his head in the blankets. Had…he just heard what he thought he had? Wishful thinking, perhaps?
"St-Stan said he'd never tell anyone," the smaller of the two choked out, green eyes welling up once more with tears. "I h-hate him. He promised. "
Completely unsure how he was expected to respond, Cartman shifted a bit closer, overwhelmed once again by the urge to swipe Kyle's red ringlets from his eyes. Again, he steeled himself, eyes widening to an almost comical size. "What…when did this happen?" he asked, noticing the shock that registered in the Jew's face. He sighed. He hoped he didn't look too concerned.
Seemingly shocked beyond all measure by the lack of insults, Kyle took a moment to gape before glaring back at his childhood adversary, cheeks darkening with rage. "What kind of question is that, fatass?!" he yelled out unexpectedly, hands clenching into balls at his sides. "What do you mean, when did it happen? It just did, okay?! How can you ask me when I figured out I was-"
"Jesus, Kyle, calm the fuck down!" Cartman cut him off, holding up a hand to silence the seething boy. "That's not what I meant, asshole! I meant what Stan did!"
The next few moments passed in silence, Kyle's expression changing from livid to embarrassed as Cartman watched the change with silent relief. The larger bit his lip, hands fumbling almost nervously with the bottom of his shirt. Wait, why was he so twitchy? Wasn't Kyle the one screaming and throwing an emotionally unstable fit?
"Oh," Kyle eventually muttered out, gaze falling to trace the creases and folds of the thick blanket. "It was…earlier during the baseball game. I-I knew I shouldn't have let Stan convince me to drop basketball."
Cartman took a deep breath. Okay, so this was getting somewhere. He still didn't understand why he was so curious. Sure, he wanted Kyle but-
Wait, he wanted Kyle?
Hating the sudden escape of his secret from the deep depths of his consciousness, Cartman just bit his lip and tried to listen to what Kyle was saying, pride constantly taking vicious blows at his innermost desires.
"I-I caught him telling Wendy during halftime," the Jew said miserably, hands threading in his crimson locks. "And you-you know what happens when she finds out about something."
Cartman nodded. `Everyone finds out`, he finished mentally, rolling his eyes. Damn girls. He didn't know how Stan could stomach them.
"A-and I yelled at him, and h-he said I…h-he left me at school and drove off!" Kyle sobbed out loudly, turning his face away. "I don't know wh-I said…he promised-"
Somehow unable to watch Kyle cry any longer, Cartman reached out and grabbed him by the collar, completely exasperated by his own inability to keep himself from caring. 'God, I swear, if he ever finds out what I think of him…' "Don't be a whiny bitch, Kyle! Why do you even care about what that douchebag thinks?!"
"He's my best friend!" The smaller said desperately, upset changing to silent shock before Cartman's eyes. "Umm, you don't…care?" he asked in obvious disbelief, eyes enormously wide. "But…you hate me."
Cartman mentally kicked himself in the nuts. "I…" he trailed off, lip bit. He couldn't very well say he hated Kyle now, could he? Not after he'd shown even the tiniest bit of sympathy.
"You-you hate me," Kyle repeated almost as if to taunt him, brows furrowed in complete and utter confusion. Mere moments passed before perplexity morphed into a distraught rage. "Why are you doing this to me?! To make me cry like Stan did? You hate me!"
"You think I hate you?" Cartman yelled out before he could hold himself back, completely frustrated as he reestablished his grip on the Jew's new sweater. "Suck my balls, Kyle! Ms. Lopez says you're handsome, Kyle! You're such a good crime solver, Kyle! Does this sound like hate to you?!" Shaking his head, he released the thick material and made an attempt to slide off the couch, bound for his bedroom.
Only when a slender hand gripped his own did Cartman realize what he had just done.
"Eric?" God, he hated when Kyle called him that. It was too…personal. "D-don't go…okay?"
Surprised beyond words that the Jew would even want his presence after such an unceremonious spell of shouting in the other's face, Cartman reluctantly turned around, fighting back the humiliated blush that seemed determined to rise up over his face. 'Don't react, don't react…'
Eyes narrowed ineffectively in an attempt to appear angry, the larger of the two took a single, grudging glance up, all control fading at the sudden feel of Kyle's lips latched over his own.
Dumbfounded to say the least, Cartman allowed himself to be pulled back over the smaller body, feeling cold hands run shaking through his mussed locks, one thin arm linking around his neck to hold his head in place. Simply unable to put up much of a fight against the one thing he had dreamed about for God knows how long, the larger boy reciprocated the intimate gesture, embracing his sworn enemy in a gentle embrace. He pressed his mouth a little harder against Kyle's own, feeling the Jew tremble underneath his touch.
No. He couldn't do this.
Shaking his head back and forth in denial, Cartman forced his mouth away, heart aching at the forlorn sigh from Kyle's lips. "I-I can't," he shook his head, immediately averting his gaze to some area in the opposite direction. He had to avoid those green eyes at all cost. "I can't do it, Kyle."
An insufferable stretch of silence passed before it was broken by a quiet, almost indecipherable, "Why not?"
Shocked beyond all measure that the Jew would actually want his attentions after this whole fiasco, Cartman couldn't help but look the other teen directly in the face, breath stolen by the sight of soft ringlets and light eyes. "Because…" he began, shaking his head inwardly at his inability to give even the most insignificant little reason. He had a million. He could have said, 'Because you're a stupid Jew, Kyle,' or 'Because I'm not a fag, Kyle,' or 'Because I love you so fucking much I can't stand myself for it, Kyle.' In reality, the latter would have been the closest to the truth, but Cartman, having lost his voice along with his anger, wouldn't have been able to say it no matter the extent of its validity.
Words muted and patience gone, the taller simply took one more look at his companion's confused visage and pounced as effectively as his weight would allow, pinning a quaking Kyle to the couch as he buried his face in the Jew's neck.
"Kyle," he breathed, unable to express the neverending eternity of thoughts that darted distraughtly through his brain. Hearing his own name whispered in return, Cartman had no time to even begin to ponder what he could say next before gentle hands resumed their stroking of his hair. He couldn't help but smile. Here he was, fat and nervous and momentarily mute, and Kyle didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
One hand sliding around to pull his Jew closer, Cartman let his eyes fall shut, world consisting solely of Kyle's heartbeat and the feel of pale fingers threading with his own.
"Eeeeric," Kyle moaned out softly in his slumber, curling up against the primary heat source that was his boyfriend. Feeling a warm arm curl around him in reply, the Jew gasped as the true coldness of the room began to sink into his skin, eyes snapping open. "Wh-wha?" he knuckled sleepily at his eyes, looking down upon the still-sleeping Cartman. "W-wake up, fatass," he prodded, yawning as the other shook awake.
"What's your problem?" Cartman muttered, nuzzling into crimson locks as he tried in vain to return to slumber. He sighed, holding Kyle against his side. "Go back to sleep. It's too early."
Kyle shook his head insistently, poking his lover a second time. "Eric, I was just having a really weird dream," he mused aloud, thinking it back over and nuzzling up closer to the warm body. "Remember that day a couple years ago? When I came over to your house and stuff?" He looked up, waiting for what he was sure would be an annoyed or exhausted-affected response. He hadn't, however, expected Cartman to go as white as the sheets they were curled up in.
"Dude," Cartman stared back as if to verify that Kyle wasn't playing some sort of joke on him. "No way. You're messing with my head."
Kyle simply gave a confused look, cocking an eyebrow.
"I was just dreaming about that."
Shocked, the thinner teen blinked at his fiancé, surprised by the earnest expression. "No way."
"Seriously." Cartman continued to appear perplexed for the last few moments, lips twisting into a haughty smile. "You remember that day, don't you? When we did this?" He punctuated the final word by securing his arms around Kyle's waist and flipping the other beneath him, earning a squeak and smile in return. "Coming back to you?"
Grinning despite himself, Kyle leaned up and took a kiss for himself, arms linking around Cartman's neck. "How could I forget?"
Sprawled out comfortably over one of the highest clouds in heaven, Kenny snickered amusedly and watched the lovers' progress through the crystal ball, brown eyes glittering with happiness.
"Gee, Gabriel," the nearest angel bit his lip, nudging said comrade in obvious concern. "I dunno if we should let that kid use all these holy artifacts, you know? First that dream-making thingymabob, now this? Maybe it's not such a good idea."
Gabriel shrugged, smiling a little. "C'mon, he's not doing any harm. Besides, don't you remember how he saved us from the forces of Hell with his PSP all those years ago?" He chuckled at the memory. "The poor kid went before his time. He deserves it."
Oblivious to all outside conversation, Kenny continued his focused watching of the device and his two companions seen inside it, muffled whoops of encouragement sounding from underneath the hood of his orange parka. However, catching a glimpse of one of the resident female angels out of the corner of his eye, the deceased teen left his friends to go at it unwatched, preferring rather to gawk at the impeccable wonders of cleavage.
Accusing screams of 'pervert' echoing above the clouds, Gabriel quickly snatched back the ball and tossed it to his fellow immortal, head shaking back and forth. "You're right," he admitted, rolling his eyes. "Send him back to earth. Hopefully he'll last longer this time."