Kyle in chains / eric cartman x kyle broflovski

15

Chapter 15 - Exposure
L

iane came home early the next morning while Cartman and I were having breakfast together. She didn't seem at all surprised to see me there. I guess I've been hanging around the Cartman household enough lately to have blended in with the upholstery by now. She cheerfully told us that the doctor had prescribed her some painkillers to aid the recovery from her 'operation'. I noticed Cartman sadly eyeing the stitched-up lesion on her forehead and I gave his hand a discreet squeeze under the breakfast table. He returned my gesture with a weak though legitimate smile. In a way, seeing him so vulnerable has made me like him more. It reminded me that despite all of his bravado he's still human, and that he is in fact capable of caring for someone other than himself. It's kinda like my analogy of that remake of Halloween – the more insight that I'm getting into Cartman's personality, the less there is to be afraid of.
W

e walked to school via my house so that I could stop off to take my insulin. I keep meaning to take some of the damn stuff to Cartman's place so that I don't have to keep coming home every morning after I've stayed with him. Cartman didn't come inside with me. A wise decision – it's best to avoid my mother at all costs in the morning, especially if your name happens to be Eric Cartman. I took my shot as quickly as possible so that I could get the hell out of there and avoid any awkward conversations. I'm pretty sure that my parents thought I'd spent last night with my 'girlfriend'. I just spun my usual 'a friend needed my help' story, which wasn't necessarily a lie for a change, and mumbled something about being late for school before bolting out of the front door.
As we continued on our way, I filled Cartman in on my thoughts about telling Stan. He seemed supportive of the idea, but suggested that we should probably get together first to plan how best to go about doing it. I agreed – Stan can be very sensitive and he won't be happy that I've been lying to him, so I need to be careful about how I break the news. Cartman's input should prove invaluable in this situation – if anyone knows how to charm their way out of trouble, it's him.
Nobody commented on the fact that we arrived at the school gates together, and nobody mentioned Cartman's blow up from the previous day. I don't think anyone would have dared, lest it happen again. The day passed at a steady pace, and everything felt like it was truly back to normal come lunchtime when I saw Cartman in his seat at our usual table. Not having him there yesterday really shook me for some reason – like it was a totally unwelcome break in my usual routine. It seems ridiculous, since we barely even speak to each other around other people unless it's to 'argue'. I guess just knowing he's there is enough to put my mind at rest.
After my last class, I made a beeline for the basketball courts so as to not let Stan down again. He arrived shortly after me and appeared to be acting normally enough. His infuriation from yesterday had apparently totally subsided, much to my relief. For the most part, Stan is unbelievably mellow and doesn't get mad often. But when it happens, it's pretty scary.
We play a little one on one for a while, and then just take turns shooting hoops as Stan tells me about an up and coming football game he's playing in.
'I mean, the Conifer team are pretty strong. But with Token almost totally recovered from his knee injury, I think we'll have the edge over them.'
'That's cool.'
'So how's Cartman?'
Stan's out of the blue question is enough of a distraction to make me totally miss the shot I take. I scurry to retrieve our ball as I consider my answer. This is the perfect opportunity to reacquaint myself with the concept of telling the truth, so I decide to see how long I can go without having to telling a lie.
'Err, he's okay. His mom came home this morning and she's fine, so he's happy.'
Stan nods slowly. 'That's good. So you stayed over his place?'
'Yeah.'
That's two questions answered and no fibs yet. Well done, Kyle!
'Again?'
The reproachful tone in his voice takes me by surprise. I bounce the basketball rhythmically on the ground in front of me for lack of anything better to do.
'Yeah,' I reply. 'Why? What's wrong with that?'
I try to sound as casual as possible, but my voice quakes a little. I don't think Stan picks up on it though, since he's a little preoccupied with feigning nonchalance himself.
'Nothing much. I'm just curious as to why you've been spending so much time with somebody who makes your life miserable. You some kind of masochist or something?'
For obvious reasons, I laugh nervously at his light-hearted accusation. 'We're not spending that much time together.'
That was kind of a half-truth. Cartman and I are spending more time together than we used to, but it's still not that much in retrospect. I would gladly spend more.
'Then how come he stayed over at your place on Friday night?' Huh? I can't remember telling Stan about that. He smirks a little at my surprised reaction. 'I spoke to Ike on Saturday and he said that you'd let the 'fat Nazi kid' sleep over.'
Shit. I forgot that Stan coaches Ike's hockey team.
'He...came over to do homework.'
Again, not really a lie – we did do homework together on Friday.
'All night long? You have like two classes together.'
Damn it. I was kinda hoping that Stan would overlook that minor detail. I sigh heavily, trying to keep my cool.
'Look, Cartman's falling behind with a few of his classes. The retard wanted my help and he didn't want anyone to know he was asking for it.'
An all out lie, and not a very good one either. Even if his life depended on it, Cartman would never ask for my help outright - and Stan knows it. He raises an eyebrow sceptically.
'Really? What classes?'
I suddenly draw a blank. Goddamn it! I know Cartman's school schedule by heart. Why is it that all of a sudden, I can't remember a single class that he takes?
'I don't...coach him on specific subjects. I just give him overall study tips, like how to format his work better and stuff.' Stan rolls his eyes as I pass the basketball to him. I cock my head to the side. 'What? Don't you believe me?'
He shakes his head. 'Honestly? No, I don't.'
I glare at him for that, though I don't know why. I have no right to get mad at him for doubting me – I am lying to him, after all. But it still upsets me that he doesn't believe me, if that makes sense.
'Stan, you always get mad when Cartman and I fight. Now you're getting mad because we're getting along. What more do you want from us?'
Observing how annoyed I look, Stan matches my glare although his voice remains calm.
'Well, since you ask, I'd prefer it if you weren't verbally abusive to my girlfriend because of him.'
He turns to look skywards and shoots the ball. It goes straight through the centre of the hoop and bounces on the asphalt a couple of times before rolling to my feet. I stoop to pick it up. I was wondering when this issue was gonna be raised.
'Look, that just kind of...slipped out. But in all fairness, Wendy was the one who picked the argument with Cartman. And what she said to him was totally uncalled-for.'
'Maybe, but since when does Cartman need you jumping to his defence?'
Since when does Wendy need Stan jumping to hers? The girl has a defensive streak long and wide enough to have its own zip code. As much as I'd like to, I don't say this aloud. I value my life.
'He's just been a good friend to me recently. He's really starting to behave better.'
Stan snorts derisively. 'Yeah, until the next Mel Gibson movie comes out. I thought you would have learned by now that trusting Cartman is never a smart thing to do.'
I guess I'm a slow learner. Clearly, telling Stan the truth is going to be harder than I first thought. It looks like Cartman and I have a lot of planning to do tonight and since I really don't want to continue arguing, I toss the basketball back to Stan and walk over to where I dumped my coat.
'Listen dude, I'll catch you later. I have somewhere to be.'
Stan rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time. 'Let me guess...Cartman's?'
'Yes,' I reply, sounding a little harsher than I intended to. 'He needs some help with some math problems.'
I'm pretty sure Cartman takes math... Stan shrugs casually, turning back towards the hoop as I slip my coat on.
'Okay then...have fun with your new best friend.'
I'm stunned as Stan shoots the ball violently, causing it to deflect off the backboard with a harsh thud. Oh, how fucking childish! I can't believe I just heard that from him! I'm so pissed off that I can practically hear my blood bubbling beneath the surface of my skin. I hastily leave before I succumb to the urge to chew him out for his pathetic behaviour. I practically stomp all of the way to Cartman's place as Stan's tantrum replays over and over in my head. For every step I take, the memory pisses me off even more, and I must look absolutely furious by the time I'm knocking at the front door. Cartman answers, raising an eyebrow when he sees my annoyed face.
'Woah! Who lit the fuse on your tampon, Jew?'
'Stan. We had a stupid fight.'
Cartman sniggers. 'Aw, and I missed it? You guys' fights are always hilariously melodramatic. Better than soaps, seriously!'
Ignoring the glare I shoot him, Cartman steps back so that I can access his house. I practically tear off my coat and am surprised when Cartman takes it from me and hangs it up by the front door. His gentlemanly gesture cools my temper somewhat, and I glance around the empty living room.
'Where's your mom?'
Cartman shrugs. 'Upstairs sleeping. So what was this fight about? Come, sit down. Tell Uncle Eric all about it.'
He takes a seat on the couch, gesturing for me to join him. I frown slightly.
'Uncle Eric? Dude, that's creepy.'
I try to sit beside Cartman, but he grabs me around the waist and pulls me into his lap, balancing me on his knee like I'm a little kid. He's not going to let me move, so I might as well make myself comfortable.
'Was it the Wendy thing?' he asks as he smoothes out my dishevelled hair. 'I told you that it would come back to bite you in the ass.'
I shake my head. 'He mentioned it, but that wasn't his main issue. He was just asking a load of questions about us and why we're together so much lately. I think he may suspect something.'
'Give the man a fucking medal,' Cartman says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 'Took him long enough to figure it out. What exactly does he suspect?'
'He thinks you're my new best friend.'
'He actually said that?' I nod. Cartman laughs scornfully. 'Wow. I didn't realise that we were back to being nine years old again.'
'You should have seen his reaction when I told him I was coming over here to see you.'
Cartman frowns. 'Oh, so that's not okay but it's fine for him to bail out on you to be with the she-hippie all the time? Fucking hypocrite.'
I would have to agree. I'll freely admit that it used to bother me that Stan ditches me for Wendy so much. He'd always say 'Dude, she's my girlfriend. What can I do?' He doesn't really have the right to complain now that the shoe is on the other foot - though in fairness I guess that he doesn't actually know that the shoe is on the other foot. Still, it's pretty unfair that I'm being chastised for spending time with someone else. I feel Cartman's soothing fingers massaging my shoulders and lean back into his touch.
'I'm gonna have to tell him,' I say quietly.
'You're not worried about your mom finding out any more?'
I shudder. 'Of course I am. But I need to tell Stan, if only to make this whole situation easier for us. It should make him feel better too.'
Cartman sniggers. 'Yeah, I'm sure he'll feel much better when you say, 'It's cool, Stan. Cartman isn't my best friend - I'm just fucking him, is all.''
I have to laugh at how accurate Cartman's imitation of my voice is. 'Well, at least I won't have to lie to him anymore.'
He shrugs. 'Okay, if you're sure. So how do you wanna do it?'
'I dunno,' I sigh. I'll think of something.'
'I'll tell him for you.'
'For the last time, no!'
I mentally block out Cartman's laughter as I try to focus my mind on the task at hand. It'll definitely be best if I tell Stan by myself – it might unnerve him if Cartman is there too. It'll probably make him feel more comfortable if I did it at his house rather than mine. And that way if the worst happens and he freaks out, my mom won't overhear. Suddenly, Cartman's voice penetrates my thoughts.
'If you had to choose between me and Stan, who would you pick?'
It's not a serious question, but it's still not a very cool thing to ask.
'Don't be an asshole!' I growl.
I make an angry face to discourage Cartman's chuckling, but I think it only makes it worse.
'Seriously, if someone had a gun pointed at me and Stan, and told you that you had to pick one of us to live, who would you pick?'
I sigh. 'I'd rather that they shoot me than allow any harm to come to either one of you.'
'Don't try to cutesy your way out of answering the question, you sneaky Jew-weasel.'
'It's a fucking horrible question, you fat asshole!'
He grins at me – I forgot that he likes it when I'm angry.
'So, you like me as much as you like Stan?'
I gradually return the smile, nodding. 'In fact, I think I like you just a little bit more.'
'Oh really? And why is that?'
Cartman's smile fades a little as I move from his lap but intensifies once again when I kneel astride his hips and wrap my arms around his neck.
'You're a much better kisser,' I say breathily with a wink.
Cartman recognises his cue, closing the distance between us. Our lips aren't together for long as Cartman swiftly moves his attention to my neck. His hands slide underneath my t-shirt, eager fingertips tickling my ribs and teasing my chest. Ah well...I suppose we'll have plenty of time to talk about Stan later. Cartman's lips leave me for a second as he removes my t-shirt and kisses the newly exposed skin. I start to make a purring noise in response to the attention he's giving me and feel a stirring in my jeans. I cup his face in my hands, lifting his chin so that our lips can meet again. Cartman opens his mouth to me, welcoming my tongue to intertwine with his as I start unbuttoning his shirt. Just as he reaches for my belt buckle, the front door swings open. Everything seems to go in slow motion as a familiar figure enters Cartman's living room.
'Kyle!?'
Startled, Cartman and I jump apart and turn to face Stan. He stands frozen and rigid in the doorway, his eyes wide as they stare at us disbelievingly. Oh my God...I try to say something, but I can't. There's isn't a lie in the world that I could tell that would be convincing enough to rationalize this situation. I can feel my face grow red, a stark contrast to Stan's which has drained of all colour. After an agonisingly long moment of unadulterated awkwardness, Stan abruptly snaps out of his trance, hesitantly dropping something to the floor.
'You, err...f-forgot your bag.' he stammers.
Like an emotionless zombie, he slowly turns and walks back out of the house. I don't think I've ever moved so fast in my life. I leap off the couch, throw my t-shirt on and hurl myself through the front door after him. I can't let Stan get away without explaining things to him. I just hope that I can catch him in time.
Thankfully, he's stopped outside to throw up on the sidewalk.
'Stan, wait!'
He turns his body in my direction, but can't bring himself to look me in the eye. Once again, I find myself unable to speak. How can I make my best friend understand what he just saw? What the fuck do I say to break this asphyxiating tension? Cartman dashes up behind me. He stops at my side, and I can see he's glaring at Stan.
'You ever heard of knocking, asshole?'
That wasn't the most ideal tension breaker I could have asked for, but it did the job. 'Stan, I can explain.'
Stan shrugs, still not making eye contact. 'What's there to explain? I get it, Kyle.'
I glance at Cartman, then back at Stan.
'Err...You do?'
'Yeah...that was a joke, right?' Oh, man... When I don't reply, Stan continues. 'You saw me coming and said 'Hey, I bet it would really freak Stan out if we got naked and started making out together!' Well, you got me!' His forced laughter makes me wince. 'Good one, guys! You really got me going there.'
That's a brilliant explanation. I wish I could just agree with it, but I can't lie to my best friend anymore.
'Stan...we didn't see you coming.'
Even though I'm a good seven feet away from him, I can hear Stan's breathing becoming erratic. His shaking fingers rake through his raven-black hair as he starts pacing like a caged animal on the sidewalk.
'No way, dude...no fucking way...'
Cartman sighs irritably. 'Calm down, you fucking pansy.'
Stan abruptly stops pacing and looks up at us, eyes blazing.
'Don't tell me to calm down, fatass! What the fuck is this, Kyle?'
I flinch. I hate it when Stan yells. Such a loud angry voice just sounds so alien coming from him. I breathe deeply.
'I didn't want you to find out like this. I was gonna tell you properly.'
'Tell me what, exactly?'
His harsh voice cuts right through me.
'We're...Cartman and I are...'
'Butt buddies?' Cartman offers, most unhelpfully.
Both Stan and I glare at Cartman for a second before turning back to look at each other. Stan's confused, questioning blue eyes send a cold shiver down my spine. I sigh, nodding hesitantly.
'We're...together, Stan.'
He stares back at me wordlessly, the only movement in his body being that of his chest rapidly heaving like he's just run a marathon. I'm a little concerned that he's gonna hyperventilate actually.
'Aw...no!' he suddenly explodes. 'No, no, no, no, no!'
'Yes!' I insist.
'But...you hate each other!' Stan splutters. 'Kyle, Cartman hatesyou! He's tried to kill you before. How can you do this after all he's put you through?'
'I know it might seem totally insane.'
'Yeah, no shit!'
'Please just give me a chance to explain this to you.'
'Okay, explain.'
Stan folds his arms over his chest, glowering at me expectantly. Oh boy... Where do I begin? At the beginning, I guess would be appropriate...
'It started the night of that girl's party. I went back to Cartman's place because I didn't wanna go home wasted and get shit from my mom for it. And we just...it all just happened from there.'
Stan rolls his eyes. 'So basically, he took advantage of you while you were drunk?'
'Hey! I'll have you know, he came onto me!'
I'm glad Cartman is here for moral support and all, but I really wish he'd shut the fuck up. Fortunately, Stan appears to be ignoring him.
'I don't understand this, Kyle. Why would you let him do...that to you? Do you honestly think that he cares about you? This is Cartman we're talking about here!'
'He's different now, Stan.'
'No, he isn't! He's still the same ignorant racist son of a bitch that he's always been.'
'He's better than he used to be. You don't understand how we are when we're together.'
'Really? Because all I ever see when you're together is Cartman ripping on you for being Jewish and treating you like crap.'
'I treat him better than you do,' Cartman growls. 'You're his best friend and it's taken you this long to figure out something's going on? Maybe if you'd pull your head out of the sand in Wendy's vagina for more than five minutes, you'd see what-'
Cartman's rant is cut short when Stan suddenly lunges forward and squares up to him. Oh God...
'Shut your fucking mouth, asshole! At least I don't pry people I hate with alcohol so that I can fuck them, you fat sack of shit!'
Although I can see the fury building in Cartman's face, he does a spectacular job of keeping his temper.
'Get out of my face, Stan,' he says evenly through clenched teeth.
'Make me, fatass!' Stan spits back in challenge.
I have no idea who would come off better in a fight between these two, but I really don't wanna find out. I grab hold of Cartman's arm and pull him back away from Stan, stepping in between them.
'Stop it, both of you!' I say firmly before glancing to my boyfriend. 'Cartman, you're not helping. Just back off and let me handle this.'
To my surprise Cartman begrudgingly does what I ask of him, folding his arms defensively and taking a couple of steps away. Stan glares at me, wildly gesturing in Cartman's general direction.
'How can you want this, Kyle? How can you want him? Someone who treats human beings like they're inanimate objects?'
I sigh. 'That's not how-'
'He's just gonna toy with you and then ditch you after he's had his fun.'
'You just don't understand what we've-'
'I do understand that Cartman's a selfish manipulative asshole!'
'That's not true!'
'Yes, it is! Why the fuck are you defending him?'
'Because I'm in love with him!'
The palm of my hand claps over my mouth with such velocity and force that I nearly knock out my front teeth. What the fuck did I just say? I can't believe I just blurted that out when Cartman is standing all but two feet away from me. God only knows what he's thinking! I desperately want to look over at him, to witness his reaction to my outburst, but I'm simply too afraid to look. Instead, I stare into the dilated pupils of my best friend. He looks like he's about to vomit. Again.
'My God...' he murmurs. 'This is so fucked up. You've lost your mind...'
As I watch Stan's dismayed face, I'm silently hoping that if I wish for it hard enough, he'll suddenly stop being angry and understand where I'm coming from. Unfortunately, this doesn't look likely to happen. Before long he slowly moves close me, cautiously laying a hand on my shoulder.
'I don't know what the fuck he's done to you, Kyle,' he says softly. 'But I'm not letting you get hurt. So if you won't listen to me, I'll find someone who you will listen to.'
I frown. What's that supposed to mean? Before I can question it, Stan turns away and I can only stand watching helplessly as he skulks off down the street. Jesus, what a fucking mess that was! I don't cry often, but I really feel like it right about now. Familiar arms wrap around my waist from behind and I turn to seek comfort in Cartman's warm brown eyes. To my surprise, my random declaration of love doesn't appear to have fazed him. I'm glad – the last thing I need right now is Cartman walking away from me too. He looks at the tears building in my eyes and gives me a crocked smile of encouragement.
'That actually went better than I thought it would.'
I laugh despite the horrible situation. If only Stan hadn't have walked through that door and saw what he did. There's no way he would have reacted like that if I had just sat down and told him properly. Now there's no telling where he's going or who he's planning to tell. It'll probably be Wendy, maybe even Kenny or Butters. But no matter who it is, one more person knowing brings me one step closer to my mom finding out. The shit has now officially hit the fan, so I'm gonna have to take a step that I know I'm not at all ready for.
I'm gonna have to tell my mom before someone else beats me to it.
I get home nearly an hour later. Cartman wouldn't let me leave, desperately trying to talk me out of telling my mom today. His key point was that I'm too emotional after our run-in with Stan to handle it properly. I'm not denying that what he's saying is true, but the fact remains that emotionally capable or not, I need to tell my mom as soon as possible. Chances are that whoever Stan decides to seek advice from won't go running their mouth to my mom, but I'm willing to take the necessary precautions. Cartman offered to come with me, but I figured considering the effect his input had on the conversation with Stan, it was probably best if he stayed out of the way. When I get through the front door, my brother is on the couch but for once the television isn't switched on.
'Hey Ike,' I greet him.
Ike starts at the sound of my voice, like my being there is totally unexpected. He leaps off the couch, gesturing for me to be quiet as he quickly approaches me.
'Dude, if I were you I'd turn around and go back to wherever you just came from,' he hisses. 'Mom is totally on the-'
'Kyle? Could you come in here for a second?'
Mom's voice booms from the kitchen, cutting Ike off. He cringes, patting my shoulder sympathetically.
'Good luck, bro.'
I roll my eyes. This isn't a good start to a profound mother-son talk. What the fuck I've done this time? When I enter the kitchen, Mom is sitting at the dinner table, arms folded. She has an odd expression on her face and I can't quite read the emotion in it.
'Hey Mom,' I say with a gentle smile.
She doesn't smile back.
'Kyle, your friend Stanley has just been on the telephone.'
My heart skins.
No way...
Surely, he wouldn't have...
'He said something about you and the Cartman boy...conducting a special friendship.'
I don't believe it! Why would he do that to me? Doesn't he know my mother at all? What the hell was he thinking? I'm so dismayed and bewildered that I temporarily lose the ability to speak or even think of anything to say.
'I told Stanley that he must have been mistaken,' Mom continues. 'I've raised my son properly, and there's no way that he'd ever be part of something like that.'
This is the perfect chance for me to lie. If I told my mom that Stan was just playing a joke on me, she'd probably believe me. She'd hate my best friend for the rest of his life, but then again I'm not exactly his number one fan at the moment either. So now's the time to make my choice – do I tell the truth or not?
'Stan's...not mistaken, Mom. It's true. Cartman and I have been together for nearly three months now.'
I brace myself, expecting my mom to go ape shit but she doesn't. She says nothing, her face as motionless as if she were an oil painting. It's really kind of surreal. I take her silence as an opportunity to fight my corner.
'He treats me really well. I care about him a lot and he makes me so happy.'
She still hasn't spoken or moved. I can hear Ike shuffling around outside the kitchen doorway, obviously listening in. That's fine – it'll save me the job of telling him later and I doubt he cares anyway. It's Mom I'm worried about since she blatantly does care. She takes a deep breath and slowly gets to her feet. She goes to the oven and switches it on, then crosses the kitchen to the refrigerator and starts taking vegetables out of it. I watch in silence as she starts washing the vegetables in the sink. I'm overwhelmed by how blasé she is being. She's just been told that her son is in a gay relationship with Adolf Hitler Jnr., and she's standing there getting dinner started like nothing's wrong. Of course, I'm fully aware that it's an act of denial, but it doesn't stop it from being freaky. I jump when she finally speaks.
'I think it's probably best if you stay away from Eric Cartman from now on, Kyle.'
I glare at her back. 'Best for who? You?'
I can't stop myself from snapping at her. Her dismissive tone just then was like a red rag to a bull.
'You're obviously very confused,' she elaborates.
I sigh. 'Mom, I'm not confused. I really do-'
'I always knew that Cartman boy was nothing but trouble.'
'You don't understa-'
'To think of all the times I've allowed that child into my home! If I'd thought for just one second that he-'
'Goddamn it, why won't anyone listen to me?!'
My outburst is enough to finally draw my mom's attention away from the vegetables and back to me. Her face is bright red with repressed anger – she looks like she's about to explode.
'Kyle, I forbid you from seeing him.'
'You can't do that!'
Her eyes narrow. 'I can, and most certainly will.'
'What are you gonna do? Home school me? Bar up my windows? Lock me away like a prisoner?'
I'm practically screaming in frustration. I can tell my mom is furious and looks ready to reprimand me for raising my voice to her, but I don't give her the chance.
'You can ground me for the rest of my life, but there's nothing that you or anyone else can do that will force me to change the way I feel about him! You can't stop me from making this decision! You can't stop me from loving him!'
I hear a muffled crack and feel a stinging sensation across my face. I'm so stunned that it takes me a moment or two to realise that my mom has just slapped me. In all of the sixteen years of my life, she's never once raised her hand to me until now. Her eyes blaze with pure rage. I've never seen her looking so angry.
'You don't know what love is!' she spits.
Maybe not, but I know what love isn't. This woman doesn't love me. She doesn't want me to be happy, or to make my own decisions in life. She just wants a puppet, a piece of clay to mould into her vision of the perfect son. I can't let her keep pulling the strings anymore.
'Kyle, get back here!'
Before I even know that I've done it, I've ran out of the kitchen, passed Ike, through the living room and out of the front door. I don't even need to think about where I'm going. As I continue to run, I lick at my swollen lips and taste blood. Cartman's eyes widen when he opens his front door and sees me standing there looking like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders for the second time that day.
'Kyle? What the fuck...?'
He drags me into the house and I slowly sit down on the couch as he closes the door.
'My mom knows,' I say flatly.
'She fucking hit you?'
I ignore the question, since the answer is obvious.
'Stan told her, dude. Why would he do that to me?'
Cartman looks incensed, but this doesn't come across in the uncharacteristically gentle tone of his voice.
'Forgot about that dumb fuck for now. Focus on yourself. Wait here, I'll get you some ice.'
I touch my fingers to my lips as Cartman goes to rattle around in the kitchen. What the fuck was Stan thinking? Did he honestly believe that telling my mom would be the best way to prevent me from getting hurt? I appreciate that he didn't find out about me and Cartman in the best possible way, but that's no excuse. He's totally fucking screwing me over, and now both of the people that I wanted to tell about me and Cartman as delicately as possible are pissed off at me. Today has just been an epic fail in every sense.
My cynical train of thought is broken by a loud knock on the door. I glance towards the window and see a shock of red hair. It's my mom. Cartman comes back with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dishcloth, not taking his eyes off the front door as he lays the makeshift icepack down on the coffee table in front of me.
'Stay here and ice your lip.'
Not likely. I scramble to my feet and pursue him to the door. I swear he rolls his eyes at my urgent movement, but follows it up with a comforting smile. He puts the security chain on the door and opens it, addressing my mom through the small gap.
'Can I help you?' he says sharply.
'I want my son,' my mom barks, equally as sharp.
Cartman snorts. 'You and me both, bitch.'
With that, he goes to push the door closed but is prevented by my mom's shoe lodging it ajar. He tries again, a few times, but my mom refuses to remove her foot. Cartman sighs impatiently and takes a step back to rethink his strategy. I hear my mother let out a Banshee-like screech as she slams her body against the door. There's an ear-splitting crack as the security chain is torn from its fixture and the front door flies open.
'Get out of my way!'
My mom shoves by a stunned looking Cartman and stomps into the living room, glaring at me forcefully.
'Young man, when I tell you to come back to me, you will do it! Do you understand?' Mom bellows in my face.
'What's going on?'
Everyone turns their attention to the top of the stairs as Liane appears in her dressing gown. I glance over at Cartman, who for the first time today looks more than just a little worried.
'I'll tell you what's going on!' Mom snaps. 'Your bastard son has corrupted my child!'
Liane descends the stairs, looking back and forth between the three of us before stopping on Cartman.
'Eric? What have you done?'
'Nothing, Mom! I...'
Cartman glances over to me, as if for some kind of reassurance, then smiles confidently and turns back to his mom.
'Mrs Broflovski isn't happy because Kyle's my boyfriend,' he says matter-of-factly.
To my surprise, and apparently Cartman's, Liane immediately beams at us. 'That's wonderful, hon!'
'My son is not your boyfriend!' my mom rages. 'And what do you mean 'wonderful'? You're actually condoning this?'
Mrs Cartman shrugs. 'Of course. If our boys are happy together, I see no reason why we shouldn't be happy for them.'
'Happy for them?!' Mom shakes her head like it's the most retarded implausible thing she's ever heard. 'Kyle, we're leaving. Now!'
She grabs me by the arm, her fingernails digging into my flesh painfully. She begins to drag me towards the door when Cartman grabs my other arm and tugs me from her grasp. Mom turns to glare at both of us.
'Kyle, I am your mother! You will do as I say!'
Cartman pulls me as close to him as possible, keeping a tight hold on my wrist.
'Mom, you can't let her take Kyle,' he says pleadingly. 'Look what she did to his face.'
He cups my face in his hand, displaying my busted lip for his mom to look at. Liane frowns in concern.
'Oh my...' She looks over at my mother. 'Perhaps it's better if Kyle stays here for now, Sheila. Until you've calmed down.'
'Calmed down? This is calmed down! Just you wait until your father gets home, Kyle! We simply will not tolerate such disgraceful behaviour!'
'Sheila, perhaps you should try to be a little more understanding of your son. If our boys truly care for each other then-'
'You of all people dare to offer me parenting advice?' Mom scoffs. 'That's a laugh! When were you crowned Mother of the Year?'
Liane's face darkens. 'I've never had to strike my child, Sheila.'
'Well, isn't that just the problem right there? Maybe if you'd spent less time selling your body and more time in the home disciplining your child, we wouldn't have this problem.'
Both Cartman and his mom look devastated by this. Of course, everyone has always known about Liane's sordid occupation – but it's always been like some unwritten rule that nobody is to mention it in front of her. I'm really pissed off that my mom felt the need to go there, especially when I feel Cartman squirm uncomfortably beside me.
'Mom, please-' I begin.
She ignores me. 'Unbelievable! The town whore trying to give me advice on how to raise my son when her own is nothing but an evil conniving little bastard! I will never allow my son's name to be sullied by this sick association with your screwed-up delinquent child!'
'Mom, that's enough!'
The harshness of my voice is enough to make even Cartman wince. All three of them are staring at me in amazement, but I'm too pissed off to care. I lock eyes with my mother, my fury outweighing hers by a clear mile.
'I'm not having you talk that way about Cartman! He's brought me more happiness in the last three months than you have in my entire lifetime! And don't you dare be so rude to Liane! She's a wonderful woman who has done her best as a mother, and you should show her some goddamn respect!'
I can see the slightest hint of a smile on Cartman's face out of the corner of my eye. My mom looks dumbfounded, so I quickly continue while she's stunned and before I lose my nerve.
'I'm not leaving with you when you're like this because we're both gonna end up saying things that we'll regret. If you don't leave now, I'll call the police and show them what you've done to my face. Heaven forbid that your precious family reputation is tainted by a police car pulling up outside of your house!'
I sarcastically spit out my last sentence as if it were a mouthful of poison. My mom straightens up, a solemn frown on her face. 'I'm extremely disappointed in you, Kyle.'
'I know,' I nod, smiling wryly. 'I just don't care anymore.'
I swear that I hear my mother growl as she whirls around and exits the house. I exhale heavily, shaking like a leaf. Just as my mom disappears from sight, my brother comes running through the open doorway. He has a backpack in his hands, which he gives to me.
'It just a few of your things,' Ike explains. 'I figured you'd need your insulin, a change of clothes, that sort of thing...'
Thank Moses for genius little brothers. I nod and smile thankfully. The smile is returned, and my brother stares at me for a second before opening his mouth to speak again.
'Ike, we're going home!'
Unfortunately, my mom's voice cuts him off. He reluctantly turns on his heel and jogs out of the house. Cartman shuts the door behind him. I robotically cross the room and flop down on the couch, taking slow even breaths as my body recovers from the adrenaline rush the argument with my mother caused. I feel like my head is caught in a whirlwind. I'm so out of it that I don't even realise that Cartman has sat down next to me until he takes my hand.
Cartman's mom clears her throat lightly. 'I'll go make us all some tea.'
Liane disappears into the kitchen as I stare blankly at the living room carpet. I guess things could have gone worse. Who knows – the situation might even be repairable. And at least Stan didn't succeed in his senseless quest to find someone with the power to split us up. Cartman's arm slinks around my shoulder and I turn to hug him. I almost instantly feel better when his arms pull me tightly against his chest. We sit in silence, the only sound being that of the kettle boiling in the kitchen as Cartman rubs my back gently.
'Your heart is beating so fast,' he whispers.
'Yeah...'
He pulls back to look at me intently.
'Kyle, I-'
He shuts up when his mom walks back into the room with a china tea set on a tray. Although Cartman's arms remain around me, Liane doesn't look at us like it's anything out of the ordinary, putting two tea cups out in front of us and pouring the tea as if everything was fine.
'I'm going to the store later, so let me know if there's anything you'd like for supper, Kyle.'
I smile gratefully. 'Thanks, Mrs Cartman.'
'Mom?' Cartman cuts in, gesturing to both himself and me. 'Are you sure you're cool with this?'
She gives him a confused look. 'Why wouldn't I be, Eric? I know I'm not around as much as I used to be, but don't think I haven't noticed how much happier you've been lately.'
Liane winks at me pointedly. I guess she believes that Cartman's happiness is down to me. That's so awesome!
'So, it doesn't matter that we're both guys?' I ask.
'Of course not!'
'And it doesn't matter that Kyle's a dumb Jew?'
Cartman melts the glare I shoot him with a playful smirk. His mom seems to miss the joke completely.
'Goodness, no! You're a wonderful bright handsome young man, Kyle. I couldn't ask for a better partner for my son.'
I'm a little embarrassed by her gushing, but it's a good kind of embarrassed. Cartman seems pleased also, smiling genuinely as he takes a long indulgent sip from his teacup. That is, until Liane coos in her syrupy sweet voice:
'Only the best for my special little muffin.'
I break into giggles as Cartman splutters and chokes on his mouthful of tea. All in all, today has sucked pretty hard, but it's nice to know that at least one person is on our side.
The rest of the night was mercifully unexciting. Cartman and I cuddled up on the couch to calm down while his mom went to the store. I felt a little guilty that she went out shopping for us when she's only just got back from the hospital, but she insisted. Later on, my dad called and spoke to Liane, but allegedly he was just checking that I was okay. I had dinner with Cartman and his mom which was really nice and relaxing. We were all getting along so well that at one point, my mind wandered back to the conversation Cartman and I had about marriage – I'd love having a woman like Liane as my mother-in-law.
After dinner, Cartman offered to help his mom with the dishes and instructed me to go upstairs and relax after the day I'd had. Now I'm in Cartman's room, laying on his bed reading through a Sociology assignment I have due tomorrow. I can't really focus though. It's not really the fact that I've left home that bothers me, more that my 'best friend' has screwed me over in such a way. Stan had better have a damn good explanation for doing something so potentially destructive.
Before my thoughts can return their focus to Stan, Cartman enters the room with a big brown paper bag and dumps it on the bed beside me.
I raise an eyebrow. 'What's that?'
He smiles good-humouredly. 'A coming out present from my mom.'
I open the bag and look inside. Dozens of shiny little wrappers. 'Condoms?'
He nods. 'Shitloads of them.'
'That was erm...thoughtful of her.'
'Yep,' Cartman plucks a condom out of the bag and studies it curiously. He lets out a gasp, suddenly inspired. 'Hey, check this out!'
He scampers out of the room, chuckling madly. He's got that spring in his step that would indicate he's gonna do something stupid. I turn my attention back to my assignment, not even wanting to consider what my childish nutcase boyfriend is up to this time.
'Ta da!'
Cartman's voice makes me look towards the door. My eyes nearly fall out of my head in surprise.
'Jesus Christ, dude!'
He's inflated the condom to breaking point with water. It's unbelievably huge, like the size of a large dog! Cartman laughs uncontrollably, toying with the humungous balloon.
'Woah, what a wad! Imagine getting something this size up your ass!'
I cluck my tongue as he laughs even harder. It's not that funny. He experimentally hoists it up above his head.
'Man, it weighs a fucking tonne!'
'Be careful,' I warn gently.
He rolls his eyes dismissively. 'Don't worry, Jew. It's Trojan!'
Right on cue, the condom explodes and a torrent of water rains down on Cartman's head, drenching him and the floor beneath his feet. Now that's funny! In fact, I nearly fall off the bed laughing.
'Ah, fuck!' he shouts.
'I warned you!' I say in between sniggers.
'Aw, man! My clothes are fucking soaked!'
I slip off the bed and approach him as he tries to wring out the water in his clothes, cursing under his breath. I keenly observe how the wet material clings to his broad masculine form, smiling suggestively as I run my fingers through his wet hair.
'Well, I suppose you'll just have to take them off.'
He looks at me blankly for a second before detecting my tone. He smirks lustily as my hands trail over his wet chest. He actually feels really cold, and despite his idiocy I feel a bit sorry for him. He leans down to kiss me as I start unbuttoning his wet shirt. When I'm done I peel it from his shoulders and cast it down onto the wet floor below. My hands return to Cartman's hair, my fingers curling in it and tightening as I gently bite down on his bottom lip. I hear a quiet rumbling from inside his throat and release his lip, assaulting his mouth with my tongue instead as my hands slide down his chest to below his waistline. He moans into my mouth as I gently caress his cock through the soaked denim. The wet jeans cling to his legs so much that I have to be pretty rough when I tug them down over his hips. He seems to appreciate my mild display of aggression, letting another moan escape his lips as I wrap my arms around him and feel him shiver.
'You're gonna catch cold, standing here soaking wet.'
He grins, nodding. 'True. I guess I'll take a shower and warm up. Care to join me?'
'I thought you'd never ask.'
Naked Cartman takes my hand and leads me down the hallway to the bathroom. I lock the door behind us as Cartman turns on the water. He casts a predatory gaze over his shoulder at me before turning around and pinning me against the bathroom door. He tugs off my t-shirt before kissing me deeply, his fingers dancing over the smooth skin of my chest and stomach. Short work is made of my jeans as he unfastens them and tugs them down to the bathroom floor in record time. When I'm totally relieved of my clothing, Cartman gestures towards the shower and I follow his lead underneath the gushing water.
We allow the hot water and steam to envelop our bodies, and I instantly feel the tension and anxiety of today's bullshit being washed away – a feeling which is probably due more to the fact that I can see Cartman hungrily eyeing my wet naked form. He suddenly presses me against the wall, grinding our cocks together and nipping at my neck with his mouth. I shudder as the warm sensation of the water and Cartman's body on my front contrasts with the cold wall tiles my back is pressed against.
I jump as I feel a slippery sensation on my chest, and look down to see that Cartman is rubbing me down with a bar of soap. He's washing me? I blush a little at such a caring and intimate action, but I quickly recover and locate my own bar of soap so that I can reciprocate. Cartman glances at me with a coy smile as I start tenderly lathering up his skin. This is such an easy task – I know his body so well that I could do this with my eyes closed. In fact, I will do it with my eyes closed. With my free hand, I pull Cartman's face to mine and capture his lips. He has no trouble responding with a firm passionate kiss as we continue to clean each other.
All of a sudden I feel a twinge in my injured lip, and I wince as a coppery taste fills my mouth again. Cartman stops kissing me when he realises, although I notice that he moans ever so slightly at the taste of my blood as he licks at his lips. His hand reaches up to stroke my face as he pulls back to examine my wound again.
'What the hell did you do to deserve that anyway?'
My mouth suddenly feels dry. I have no idea if his question is rhetorical or not, but after everything that's happened today, I feel like I need to answer it.
'It was because I...I told her that nothing could ever stop me from loving you.'
Cartman stares at me wordlessly as I feel my face growing hotter and hotter. That's the second time he's heard that word from me today. I was too scared to watch his initial reaction, but after what I've been through today, nothing seems scary anymore. Cartman's face suddenly illuminates with his smug smile and he presses his lips to my wound lightly, his tongue flickering out to wash away the blood.
'Nothing's ever stopped me either,' he murmurs breathily.
Right now my smile is so big that it makes my lip ache, but I don't care. I bring our mouths together again, leaning my body against his and cherishing every inch of his skin pressed against mine under the hot cascading water. Sure, he didn't use the 'L' word, but then again I don't really ever expect him to. He doesn't need to – I know he feels the same as me, and I couldn't be happier. It's so strange that there once was a time when I couldn't stand to be around Cartman. Now I just can't imagine not being with him like this and I couldn't stand for us to be apart. But I think I understand why. It reminds me of the advice Kenny gave me for my concerns over Stan wanting to be with Wendy so much.
'There'll come a day in your life when you'll discover a special person, the one true love of your life. When that day comes, you'll understand.'
I may well have lost both my mother and my best friend today. But at least I've gained my one true love.