How About, Our Creek?

VIII- A flame that was never lit cannot die out

Stans eyes filled with hurt as he heard Kyle's professional manor.
"Ky..." he whispered once more
"Don't you dare fucking call me that" he spat "you have no right and I will not tolerate it! My name is Kyle- use it" He hissed, sitting down with a thud.

Craig had never seen the chilled out male like this before, he's never seen outside of Kyles chill exterior. He attempted to focus on something other than the thick tension. The soft hum of the flickering bar light, the tv playing old football games. Anything but Kyles breaking heart and Stans drunk face.

"What can you tell us about this man?" Craig slid over the paper.
"His name was George Jones... his favourite night was Thursday because of thurs-gay" he began, watching with content eyes as he noted down everything.
"He gave me... a business card?" He skid over the card "said to call him for a free 'ride' " Stan shivered, his face scrunching up.

"What a classy man" Kyle mumbled, taking the card from his ex-lovers hand. He was able to ignore the butterflies that appeared in his stomach... because butterflies weren't always beautiful and neither was his and Stans love.
"Is that all you can give me?" Craig asked, beginning to stand up.
"No.. he took me home once" he began, Craig sitting back down with raised eyebrows "I can't remember the address but his house, it was in a nice part of town. Pretty view and lovely lay out. With windows from top to bottom of the master bedroom, walk in robe and personal bathroom" Stan slurred. Two stories, he had a wife. I could tell. The lingerie on display told me everything" he nodded "he was not a good man.. but he had money, used it against me multiple times. Was my source of income for a long time until he found a brothel, found someone knew. Someone better" he sighed softly, looking down in a guilty way.

"Stan think, is there anything else?" Craig pressed
"His wife did not have the same last name. I remember due to the fact that he bitched about it so frequently..." he mumbled "he was gay, stuck in a straight relationship" he mumbled, playing with his beer. Swirling it in the pint glass before swallowing.
"He always expected his 'meal' to be out before he woke up... I made the mistake of staying... he branded me" Stan explained, hissing at the memory of the pain "smelt like shit" he laughed softly before passing out on the table.
"Is that all we need?" Kyle turned to craig
"As of now? Yeah" he nodded, walking back up to Kenny
"another please" he slid his glass over, Kenny replacing it and serving up another drink
"Fuck I needed this" he whispered softly, letting his head fall on the bar.
He noticed a presence next to him, smiling at the red head.
"I'm sorry you had to see Stan again Kyle... couldn't be easy" craig lifted his head up
"You are so fucking shit at comforting people craig" Kyle gave off a sad laugh, asking the bartender for another drink.

The bartender soon caught on, laughing at the two "You're the Kyle Broflovski?" He chuckled as he served the Jew his lemonade
"Holy Fuck Dude! Stan never shuts up about you" Kenny laughed "it's always 'Kyle this' and 'Kyle that' and holy shit almost everything anyone does reminds him of you" he couldn't contain his laughter.
Kyle sat there, soaking up the words like a sponge. Stan thought about him? He took up space on the alcoholics mind?...
"What happened?" Kenny asked (after catching his breath).
"His eyes light up whenever he has the chance to talk about you" Kenny pointed at Stan, then at Kyle.
"His own choices destroyed us... he was my best friend- super best friend. But he found more comfort in a bottle and a girl. So he dropped me... like I was cheap liquor and she was... top shelf" Kyle sighed, hugging himself as the memory replayed in his head.

———

"Hey Stan! Wait up!" Kyle called, his brown eyes glowing from excitement.
"Sorry Kyle..." Stan whispered, his eyes telling the small jersey boy that he knew something the other didn't.
"Why Stan? You haven't done anything wrong?" He took Stans hand in his, only to have it ripped away from him.
"I like Wendy, and she says she doesn't like how close we are, so I'm done..." He breathed out, quickly walking away as to not see his former best friends tears.
———
"Kyle" Stan called out in a slur, his words jumbled and scent of whiskey thick
"What?" He opened his door, stepping into the cold night to talk to the, now much older boy.
"I love you" he admitted.
Kyles heart began running miles as he heard those words, but it immediately stopped after he heard
"Your a piece of shit though fuck you! I was right to dump you"
———

Kyle held back the tears at the memory, chugging down his lemonade as if it would help him somehow
"Did that flame ever die out?" Kenny rose an eyebrow.

Kyle paused, sighing and shrugging. He paid for his drinks and pulled a half drunk Craig Tucker out of the bar.

They got into Kyles car, immediately turning up the heat and craig changing the radio station to some emo shit. Kyle didn't care to much though, all that stuck with him is what the bartender said. Did it go out? Yes! Of course it did! But it didn't feel like it...

As if on cue, a familiar song began to play throughout the car.

All I am is a man
I want the world in my hands
I hate the beach
But I stand in California with my toes in the sand

He ignored the music and Craig's shitty sing along, continuing to let his mind wonder and pause at the question on he was given. He needed an answer... he was about to start his life and even the sight of Stan made him feel sick to his stomach. What was this feeling?!

Cause it's too cold whoa
For you here and now
So let me hold whoa-

Kyle shut off the radio, enjoying the soft humming of the heater and nothing else.
"So Kyle.." craig mumbled softly "did that flame ever die out?" He smirked

"A flame that is never lit, cannot die out"