Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5368325.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      South_Park
  Relationship:
      Kyle_Broflovski/Eric_Cartman
  Character:
      Kyle_Broflovski, Eric_Cartman, Stan_Marsh, Kenny_McCormick, Butters
      Stotch
  Additional Tags:
      Mirror_Universe, Teen_Romance, Alternate_Universe_-_Dark, Minor_Violence,
      Drama, Swearing, Bottom!Cartman, top!kyle
  Series:
      Part 1 of Mirror,_Mirror_Verse
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-06 Completed: 2015-12-17 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 36086
****** In a Mirror, Festively ******
by SynapticFirefly
Summary
     Eric Cartman just wants his charities to succeed for the holidays. It
     just sucks living in a universe where beards are commonplace and
     being evil is rewarded. And with Christmas purges and his own
     depraved boyfriend trying to put the kibosh on his good deeds, will
     Eric get the Christmas miracle he deserves? Probably not.
***** The Day Before Hanukkah *****
There's a tiny town nestled in almost permanent winter just a short mile away
from snowy peaked mountains. In another universe it's home to quirky adventures
where children roamed without supervision and yet, by the end of the day,
status quo returned and the next morning they were back to the slapstick humor
that made them oh so quirky.
But fuck that universe. Look through a pond or a shiny surface and take a
gander at your reflection. You'll find that things just aren't the same beyond
the looking glass. Perhaps it's even… mirrored.
This is how the story goes.
In thisSouth Park, it's a cruel and vicious town helmed by an absolute bitch-
wad of a mayor. They single-handedly dragged Colorado up the number two spot of
the most unfriendly place in America.
They use 'unfriendly' because it's nice word to call it. The town was far,
far worse otherwise.
So why not number one? Because of Eric Theodore Cartman - the nicest, sweetest,
most gentle young man you will ever meet in this little mountain town. He was
such a literal saint, he saved South Park from winning Detroit's title just for
existing, and he's pissed off a hell of a lot of people for it.
Eric was so nice it was often a burden for the students of South Park High, who
had to deal with his insufferable character on a day-to-day basis. What's the
absolute worst thing he's done throughout his academic career?
Charity drives.Thanksgiving donations for hungry families like Kenny
McCormick's. Anti-bullying campaigns and fundraisers that no one goes to or
puts money in, but somehow manages to reach their target goals every single
time.
He was doing it again this year too. Humming Jingle Bell Rock under his breath,
Eric absently opened his locker, peeled off his red jacket, and dreamed about
the good he could do for his charity Christmas drive. This year, he wants to go
door-to-door and sell homemade Christmas items to meet his target goal.
Stan thinks he's a pussy for even suggesting it.
Eric doesn't have much friends. And if his bleeding heart helped move that
process along his entire life, Kyle made sure anyone who even tried had their
names dragged through the mud until they too were social outcasts.
The thought of Kyle's handsome sneer made Eric shiver under his homemade
Christmas sweater. He shouldn't like Kyle. Kyle was everything nothim. He was
vicious, cruel, and scheming. He held himself to a greater standard than the
others thanks to his Judaism. That alone made him so selective and privileged,
he was instantly a part of the upper tier social ladder.
Eric liked to think that they were at least friends. Why else would someone as
powerful and rich as Kyle purposefully hang out with him otherwise?
And from within Kyle's tight circle came the most depraved to follow: Stan
Marsh - the one who would gleefully torture your mother if you so much as
looked at a rabbit wrong, and Kenny McCormick - the newest town whore that
would mug you first before blowing you in gratitude.
These three were his 'friends'. Heaven help him.
"Hey fatass."
He should have paid attention to his lethal surroundings. Eric gasped in
surprise before he was shoved face first into his own locker. He was
suddenly pinned hard by a slender and strong body that would have taken his
breath away if the locker hadn't had done it first.
"H-hey, Kyle…" he whimpered. He tried to smile and ignore the way the ginger
boy conspicuously rolled his sharp hips hard against his backside. For mercy's
sake, they were at school. Someone could…
Kyle Broflovski leered at him through the mirror Eric purposely put in the back
of his locker. There were just too many times he was caught unawares by a
student looking to beat the shit out of him, and Kyle wasn't the only one
trying to molest or beat him up between breaks.
But Kyle is all smiles today. His auburn goatee was neatly trimmed and sharp,
and it helped frame the auburn curls that made the teen look so devastatingly
handsome under his dark green ushanka and burnt orange jacket. He's wearing
tight jeans today, the kind that he knows drives Eric's sweet thoughts into a
tizzy of lust, because Eric can feel the familiar rough denim slide against his
ass. It reminded him of entanglements in the back of his truck or the way the
waistband squeezed into his fingers when he pulled down on command.
Kyle hummed in content from behind. Oh dear. He was in a happy, festive mood
today - which meant someone somewhere was having a very bad one.
A sharp whine leaves Eric's throat when Kyle bites him hard on the ear. It
gives the feral teen the opportunity to wrap his palm around Eric's throat and
pull, exposing a pale neck just primed for a switchblade.
Fortunately for Eric, Kyle was in a hornier mood than a bloodthirsty one.
Instead of a knife, Kyle used his tongue to lick one lewd wet stripe from the
base of Eric's throat to the jawbone that curved toward his ear.
Eric's lips part in a breathless exhale as Kyle weaved an arousing spell into
his skin using only his tongue and the occasional teeth. "Ngh… K-Kyle…"
Kyle answered with a rough snort. It sounded like an animal holding down his
prey instead of a human. And if this hadn't been a school hallway, Eric might
have been worried about getting fucked right then and there.
Then again, it wouldn't be the first time Kyle's rutted him into a panting mess
in a crowded hallway.
Kyle finished the public display by dragging his fingernails hard across
Eric's cheeks and squeezed, puckering Eric's lips on purpose for a messy, wet
kiss. It's not nice and certainly not as romantic as Eric would have liked, but
he couldn't help the soft keening moan that left his lips before Kyle snatched
the bottom one tautly between his perfect white teeth.
He didn't know how he did it, but Eric had somehow wrangled one of the most
evil and privileged boys to ever to walk this school's hallways. Kyle
Broflovski was a dangerous individual, using logic and reason to justify his
evildoing. He's even got a large gang of ginger students at his beck and call -
a group rightfully wrestled away from Eric's half-brother who wanted him dead.
Eric doesn't want to recall what Kyle did to Scott, but it had something to do
with a woodchipper and a hacksaw on Valentine's Day - and not in that
particular order. He shivered just thinking about it.
"Hmm… you're shaking like a leaf," Kyle teased. His other hand dips down to
squeeze at the thick flesh just over Eric's hip, rubbing at the soft fleece of
his sweater in a not so appropriate way. "You'd think that gay ass sweater
would keep your tubby ass warm. Rudolph? Seriously?"
"It's the holidays, Kyle," Eric said softly to his reflection, but
his embarrassment lost to the sensual movement of Kyle's fingers. Their eyes
meet and it's one of those romantic moments Eric wants to keep to memory.
There's no spitting or rough housing - it's simply them so close together that
it makes Eric's heart skip and hum with love.
It ends when Kyle scoffed again and shoved him back into the locker, but it
doesn't end there. Eric was twisted around and forced to endure their holiday
tradition of people snickering and laughing at his festive sweater while Kyle
joins them - but only his laughter is hypnotic and sensual to Eric's ears.
He doesn't blush anymore at the public humiliation. It lost its bite
enduring it every single day of his life. Still, he can't help but tug shyly at
the hem of his sweater which only made Kyle's sharp green eyes burn in both
lust and humor.
When Eric is finally unable to withstand the taunts any longer, Kyle ends the
spectation with a snap.
"Alright, show's over assholes. God, you mouth breathers would laugh at your
own toilet shit wouldn't you?"
The students immediately depart the hallway to go back on their merry evil
ways. Sometimes a poor unsuspecting fool would insult Kyle behind his back.
"Ha! Faggot!"
This was one of those days.
Out of sheer instinct, Eric grabbed at Kyle's jacket when those warm green eyes
turned into solid stone. It was the holidays. He didn't want to see Kyle commit
another round of first degree murder for the second time this week.
Unfortunately for the ballsy tenth grader, he was suddenly gutted from behind
before Kyle could do anything about it. Eric gaped in horror when the boy
collapsed forward into a dying, twitching heap on the floor.
Stan's cold gaze was not on his victim, but at the stain it made on his
jacket. With a chill expression, he brushed a bit of the blood from his
shoulder and wiped the switchblade with his gloves.
"God, you're so sloppy," Kyle chastised. Stan only grinned at them in greeting.
Not one thought was given to the unresponsive boy on the floor. Eric was
stopped by Kyle's warning glare before he could help staunch the wound or call
for a nurse like usual.
Oh, those poor janitors.
"I missed the sweater event, didn't I?" Like clockwork, Kenny slid himself by
Eric's side to maliciously pluck at a stray thread. Eric bit his lip and shied
away from the boy's touch before he actually tried to unravel it. "Jesus
Cartman, you've got the most unsexiest outfits on the fucking planet. Fucking
virgin."
There was a dying teen on the floor and they were making conversation about his
sweater. It was fucked up.
"He's not a virgin," Kyle said smugly. "Aren't you, Eric?"
He used his first name. A flashback of questing fingers and a heated mouth
filled Eric's thoughts at once. Flushing, Eric shook away the sinful memories
and distracted himself by pulling out a clipboard instead.
Kenny's nose wrinkled at the cheerful Christmas stickers plastered all over it.
"Um… so I'm doing another charity drive, you guys!" Eric responded instead with
a sweet smile. "This time it's for the homeless war veterans! Can I count on
your guys' donations? Five dollars goes a long way-"
The words died in his throat. Stan decided his time was better spent kicking
half-heartedly at the corpse while Kenny fished through his pockets for cash
and valuables. Kyle was the only one paying attention to him, but it was
obvious he couldn't give a rat's ass about homeless veterans either.
"Every year you do this," Kyle accused with a roll of his eyes. "You book the
Airport Hilton and you do all these fucking charity drives, but no one goes to
them, Cartman. Do you know why? No one cares."
Eric pressed the clipboard hard against his chest. "I care," he said softly,
and the conviction in his blue eyes made the corners of Kyle's lips quirk with
interest. "So long as one person cares about the less fortunate then that's all
that matters!"
Stan laughed while Kenny humped the air over the body now that he was done
looting. "Fuck humans-"
"-don't mind if I do," Kenny quipped.
"-animals are better," Stan continued serenely. "I'll put money into ALF first
before I help some dirty homeless fucker." There's an unhinged look in his eyes
that never failed to make Eric's hair stand up on end. It wouldn't be the first
time Stan had fantasized about torturing someone for the rights of animals and
it certainly wouldn't be last.
Eric is unable to handle the desecration of the corpse any longer so he ends up
burying his head into his locker again. Kyle quickly took the advantage of
sliding his hips back against Eric's ass and slink his arms around his large
waist. It's not comfort - it's dominance - and it makes Stan snort with
disgust.
"What do you see in that fat asshole?"
"I've got a thing for teddy bears," Kyle simply replied while Eric squirmed
under his grip.
It distracted Eric enough to whimper, "B-but you always destroy the ones I make
for you…"
"Mmm… not a bad idea. Should I wreck you, Eric?" Kyle licked lewdly along the
shell of Eric's ear. "It's been awhile since I've had that ass." Eric faltered
under the slide of fingers around his belly and hiccupped when Kyle goes lower
than necessary. He started when Kyle suddenly pried the clipboard away and
tossed it over his shoulder. It clattered loudly on the floor behind them.
"I'll give you a proper Hanukkah celebration, Cartman," he promised hoarsely
and it's oh so tempting. Eric's knees began to shake at the idea. "Just you,
me, and eight nights of fun."
Eric stuttered out, "Eight?"
"Eight," Kyle purred and it's enough to get Kenny salivating like a dog in
heat. The warning bell for first period rings and it's enough for Eric to snap
out of it. He stumbled out of his boyfriend's grip to take back the clipboard
Kenny dangled over his head with.
"I can't!" he shook his head. "My charity drive-"
"Jesus Christ," Stan sneered. "Are you seriously passing up sex for the fucking
homeless? One day you're going to grow up and stop acting like a pussy,
Cartman. And you better do it quick because it's either that or this." He
popped open his butterfly knife with ease and Eric visibly gulped at the sight.
Both Stan and Kenny laughed harshly at him before leaving the two lovebirds
behind for algebra - if they even attempted going this time.
Eric doesn't understand when Kyle shoved him hard back into the lockers to
steal back the clipboard. "Kyle?"
Kyle broke the clipboard clean in half over his knee and dropped the pieces at
Eric's feet. The love is gone and he's left with a heavy heart. He desperately
sought out those cold green eyes. "W-why?"
"I'm going to drag your lardass back to reality," Kyle replied coldly. "The
sooner you get it through your fat head, the better off you'll be. Good will?
Kindness? That shit doesn't survive in this world, Cartman. You're going to
piss off the wrong person and you'll end up in some fucking dumpster without
your shoes. And guess what? Like your charity drives, no one's going to be
there for your funeral. So quit trying to be a fucking saint and get with the
program."
Eric tried to maintain some kind of dignity by picking up the pieces. Kyle
watched him scrounge around like an idiot, then scoffed and walked away. He
stopped when Eric's words cut into his back like shrapnel.
"I know you're scared for me, Kyle," Eric whispered, "but I can't give up. I
know there's still good in the world. What better to celebrate it than
Christmas?" Even after being so cruel, he was unable to muster anger for Kyle.
He's a product of this universe's vicious nature - he couldn't help that. All
Eric could do was simply love him.
Kyle answers by leaving and Eric is left in the empty hallway to literally pick
up the pieces.
***** The First Night of Hanukkah *****
There was a big party going down at Kyle's house, but Eric wasn't invited as
usual. Instead, he spent the beginning of winter break going door-to-door for
donations with his best Christmas sweater and a giant rolling suitcase filled
with kitschy ornaments. His hair was styled back and his pants were ironed; he
looked the spitting image of a disarming choir boy. If he didn't, he might be
in trouble. 
This was South Park, the second most dangerous town in America. Your appearance
was one gunshot away from walking or dying. 
He rang the first doorbell. A beautiful, but sour looking blond woman opened
the door and peered down disdainfully at him with a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in
one hand and trigger happy fingers in the other. 
"Hello, Ms. James," Eric greeted with a sweet smile. Before her hand
disappeared out of frame to grab a weapon, he opened his palms in a gesture of
peace. "I'm not armed! I've visited you for the past two years, remember?"
"Oh." She lowered her AK-47. "You're the fat kid who begs around for cash,
ain't ya?"
"It's for a good cause, ma'am," he replied and started fishing for his red
Christmas pail of donations. "I heard your father's a war veteran. Well, I'm
here to speak on behalf of him and the great service his fellow comrades have
done in sacrifice for this country. Did you know that over sixty percent of
veterans go without proper healthcare due to convoluted bureaucracy?"
Her lovely features suddenly twisted into an ugly sneer. "My father is a drunk
motherfucker who can't keep his hands off of me. I'd rather he'd end up frozen
in a ditch somewhere with his nuts hangin' off an evergreen befor' I ever spend
a fuckin' food stamp on him!" 
Thankfully, she slammed the door in his face instead of shooting him, which
gave Eric ample time to just stand there and process what the hell just
happened.
"Evergreen? How awfully descriptive," Eric muttered before turning away for the
next house. 
He knew which houses to avoid and which ones were the least threatening. Most
if not all of South Park's neighborhood had rabid dogs and booby traps to deter
the occasional solicitor and/or trespassers, but Eric was well-knowledgeable of
them all - and he needed to if he wanted to survive next Christmas. He spent
plenty of fundraisers staring down the wrong end of a shotgun and it was his
sweet and apologetic nature, oddly enough, that tends to grant him a second
chance of life.
Sometimes he wondered why the universe wanted to keep someone like him alive.
It was plenty obvious he didn't belong in such a bloodthirsty world. 
===============================================================================
"Kyle, why do you think I'm still… you know… alive?"
"Do I look like a fucking fortune cookie? I don't know either," Kyle answered
before taking a slow drag of his cigarette. "But I've got a…" he exhaled,
"theory."
Eric paused from the lazy kisses he was pressing along Kyle's collarbone. "A
theory?"
These were the last nights of summer. The weatherman reported a cold autumn
front blowing in later in the week and Kyle wanted to take advantage of sweat
and the summer breeze of Eric's open window while they still had the chance.
Eric naturally hated the summer. It made him sticky and sweaty thanks to his
extra weight and Kyle was always determined to schedule sex in during heatwaves
for some outrageous reason. He didn't know why - he didn't think it was very
appealing to be drenched from head-to-toe in your own sweat. Perhaps Kyle just
wanted an excuse to take advantage of the giant bathtub in his mother's
bedroom. The Broflovski's couldn't install their own due to the shape of their
house and being too sticky to function would be enough to get Liane's
permission to use it. 
The window was cracked open for them to breathe after a lengthy and demanding
session in bed. Kyle had been especially enthusiastic after winning another
turf war against Craig Tucker's gang and decided his victory was better spent
fucking Eric into the mattress for nights on end. He hadn't gotten a wink of
sleep the last few days dealing with his Jewish lover's insatiable appetite and
maybe he never will. He just didn't think he could go another round again. 
Kyle lived up to his threat. He reallydid want to fuck him to death. 
Eric was still trying to settle the rapid beating of his heart laying like
this. Despite the warmth of his room, he covered his nude body with his thick
blanket out of habit. On the other hand, Kyle looked utterly shameless lounging
on top of his sheets wearing nothing but a lax grin and a cigarette between his
fingers. The cold fixation of those green eyes had long since melted away and
replaced with an almost curious expression.
It was secretly one of Eric's favorite moments with him. Kyle was much less
paranoid when he's sexually satisfied - and he has to be on his guard
constantly. Even Stan would take advantage and kill him just for a taste of
power. But here with Eric, he didn't have to worry. Eric had no compulsion to
kill or climb up the ranks. He could fall into a deep sleep by his side and not
have to keep an eye open for mischief. Eric would never hurt him and, in
return, he often was gifted a rare glimpse of the Kyle he met in the other
universe from that freak accident.
That Kyle was sweet, compassionate, and fucking adorable. They were the same -
they had to be the same - because whenever his Kyle let his guard down, Eric
saw it.
Kyle tapped away at the ashtray Eric kept specifically for him near the lamp
before continuing. "Bear with me here. So… you're a fucking anomaly."
"Well that's not very nice," Eric pouted.
"Fuck your nice," Kyle said and let out a bark of laughter. Then his smile
turned feral when he took in Eric's modest cover up. "Mmm… hey, that's not a
bad idea. Round two?"
Eric's ass literally shot up in pain at the remark. He desperately shook his
head and squeaked when Kyle slipped on top and peeled off the blanket. It fell
into a heap on the floor. "No way! Oh God Kyle, please… I'm so sore…"
"You're not sore enough," Kyle purred and his hands slid up to pin Eric's
reddened wrists to the mattress. His bare hips shifted just a bit, but it was
enough to make Eric throw his head back and whimper. He parted his weak,
trembling thighs upon command. He couldn't deny Kyle anything. Ever. "So
innocent," Kyle sighed happily. "Too innocent. But look at you now, Eric. You
look like a whore just begging for more."
"N-no…" Eric mewled. "Not a whore. Just you… Kyle. Just you."
Kyle gave a lazy thrust forward and Eric couldn't help but focus on the ceiling
as they slowly rocked, the headboard creaking for the fifth time today. This
time they were going slower. Perhaps Kyle was touched by Eric's half-fucked
words of love and loyalty. All that mattered was his ass was thanking him for
the good fortune as they did nothing but grind to the beat of music coming out
of Eric's iDock.
"Just me…" Kyle mused thoughtfully. Eric was too lost in pleasure to form any
sort of words. "You're a freak of nature, Cartman. And that's why no one's
going to kill you but me."
It's probably the most romantic thing he's ever said to Eric. It's pathetic,
it's not normal, but on the other side of the mirror, Kyle had just practically
admitted he was smitten by Eric's sweetness.
"You're mine. Say it," he commanded.
"Ugh…" 
"Say it."
Eric decided they needed a conversation later about talking during sex. He just
couldn't form the words in his head let alone say it out loud when half of his
brainpower went straight to his dick. It was only when Kyle jerked his hips
harsh enough that he ended up smacking the crown of his head against the wooden
board did Eric finally get his tongue to move properly.
"I-I'm yours! Ow…!" he whimpered. Kyle laughed cruelly and started to move
faster and his pain disappeared the moment Kyle's hand slipped between them and
jerked at his half-hard cock.
Eric was lost in that haze again - never to return.
===============================================================================
An entire morning and afternoon spent on his donation drive yielded little less
than two bucks in the pail - and that was from Eric collecting spare change he
happened to find on the sidewalk. His once optimistic streak petered out with
every door slammed hard in his face.
By the time he passed by Kyle's house, the party was in full swing and he could
see and hear the festivities of Hanukkah seeping out the olive colored walls.
Oddly enough, Christmas music was muffling through the window, but then again,
he supposed there wasn't much Hanukkah music to start with. Eric's heart
skipped a beat when Kyle passed by the window with a glass of wine in hand. He
was strikingly handsome in his dark sweater and khakis.
Eric couldn't help but approach the door and knocked on it.
Kyle didn't answer, but his mother did. Sheila blinked at him until her eyes
narrowed suspiciously at his suitcase and bright red pail. "Oh. Hello Eric,"
she drawled softly. "I see you're doing another donation drive again. Cancer
patients this time?"
"Not this time, Mrs. Broflovski," he smiled apologetically and shook the pail.
"It's homeless veterans this year."
"I see…" She stood there for a moment as if deciding whether it was faster to
chase him off with the dogs or just donate and be done with it. Eric sincerely
hoped she decided on donating - he can't afford another rabies shot so close to
the holiday season.
Before she could open her mouth, Eric could hear Kyle asking who it was over
the music and party banter. She opted for the third option and let her son
handle it instead.
Once she was out of earshot, Kyle propped his hip against the door frame and
leaned with a wicked smile. "I see you've retired Rudolph."
Eric looked down at his latest Christmas sweater and shot him a gentle grin
back. "It's Mister Hankey this time. You like him, don't you?"
Those green eyes warm over with nostalgia and perhaps a hint of fondness for
his choice of attire. It literally made Eric melt. "I'll forgive your ugly
sweater this time, fatass." He pointed at the pail. "Looks like you've gotten
twice as much as last year."
Eric glanced at the wimpy donations and sighed. "Yeah, I guess." With the day
ending, the cold winter front was starting to drop by from the mountains. He
shivered, but it had little to do with the wind. It seemed like a tradition
every year: he'd try to bring holiday cheer for the less fortunate and he
always ended up alone in the snow.
Kyle watched him for a long strange moment before thumbing over his shoulder.
"Get your ass in here, stupid. Fuck the veterans."
"I can't," Eric stressed down the invitation. He died a little doing it when
the warm expression goes out like a light on Kyle's face. "The veterans need
our support-"
"I don't see them going door-to-door like a putz asking for donations on your
behalf," Kyle snarled. He goes from zero to ten so fast on his fuck-yo-shit-o-
meter, Eric couldn't help but jump in alarm. Kyle swooped down upon him so
quickly, he almost dropped his pail.
"Nor did the cancer patients, or the orphans, or the starving kids in Africa,"
he continued viciously. "You're wasting time and money. You don't even get
a thank you for doing it."
Eric shook his head in desperation, his response low and leveled in the hope of
calming Kyle down. "I'm not doing it for gratitude, Kyle. I just want to make
the world a better place…"
"One dumbass in an ugly Christmas sweater isn't going to save the world," Kyle
spat out like pure venom and slammed the door in his face like all the others.
Eric is left wondering if Kyle was really sore that he chose charity over
him. Again.
***** The Second Night of Hanukkah *****
Eric spent the day preparing the charity drive at the Airport Hilton. Like last
year, he was the only one to set up the tables that never filled or the buffet
that was never used. This time his mother did the catering so he could use the
extra cash to raise the $5000 target goal faster.
He sent a text to Kyle and the others asking if they could watch his donation
drive on cable access TV. Out of sheer determination, he secured the 11PM time
slot on South Park's public-access channel for the week-long telethon. It cost
him almost a year's worth of allowance, but it was worth securing it so close
to the holidays.
Eric never got an answer back from Kyle or Stan and Kenny just asked if he
could take advantage of the timeslot to put hardcore porn on instead. Kenny's
family must have gotten caught stealing WiFi from Kyle's house again. No one
understood how they went from being the richest house in the neighborhood to
the poorest in the span of five years, but Eric had a pretty good idea.
Living a life of drugs, sex, and violence just wasn't a good thing at all.
Sighing from a long day's worth of work, Eric sat down on the empty stage and
checked his phone again. Kyle's family was having another grand party with the
other Jewish converts. His stomach flopped unpleasantly when he scrolled down
and found a picture of Rebecca Cotswald's developing cleavage press against
Kyle's arm on Facebook.
Doubt was chewing at him again. Here he was preparing for another failed
charity drive while his boyfriend was being hounded left and right by his
adoring admirers. Eric's expression crumpled. It should have been himpressed
against Kyle on his Facebook wall - not Rebecca.
Eric couldn't help but say something nice in the comments. that's a very kewl
picture of you guys! hahaHe didn't get any likes for the comment, but he was
used to that by now. Eric was just glad Kyle still had him as a friend on
Facebook.
Ignoring the picture for now, he chewed on his lip going through Kyle's
Facebook page for the hundredth time. He's looked at it so much he could recall
every bit of information by heart, but what he was checking and rechecking over
and over for wasn't his status updates.
Kyle Broflovski's relationship status: single.
They've been together for five years now.
Suppressing the urge to sniffle, Eric couldn't help but try and break Kyle's
silence with him. He was probably still angry with him over yesterday and it
just wasn't in his nature to leave someone in ill spirits when it was his
fault.
Guilty over what happened yesterday, Eric pulled up the Facebook Messenger app
on his phone and desperately typed out a resolution for his mercurial
boyfriend.
are u angry with me?
Expecting to be ignored again, he almost dropped his phone at the near-
instantaneous response.
Yes.
Eric smiled pathetically and rubbed his cheek against the screen. Kyle was
talking to him again.
im sorry kyle. i love u.
There was no instant response this time. Eric cradled the phone to his chest
and then looked around. No one was here to help him. Not even his mother. All
he had was himself and the only link to Kyle in his tiny iPhone.
The response vibrated loudly against his collarbone. Eric eagerly checked the
message.
Shayn. Fuck the telethon. Come home.
Eric's heart fluttered hard at the pet name. For the first time in his life, he
wanted to. He even wanted to crash Kyle's party and be with him. Even with the
risk of getting endlessly picked on by Stan or enduring Mr. and Mrs.
Broflovski's glares, he'd do it.
He wanted to be with Kyle for Hanukkah.
His thumbs work the screen for a short moment and when he finished, he tried to
choke back a sob at his own weakness.
i can't.
Kyle didn't respond again.
===============================================================================
It was Eric's eleventh birthday party and, like all of his other parties, it
was very small and intimate. He learned by now that no one really liked him,
but he sent out invitations anyways. Only three boys came - the same ones every
year - but it was mostly to rip on him and take advantage of the delicious cake
his mother was famous for.
Kenny arrived to devour half the cake and then stole the last third before he
left. Kyle refused a slice due to his diabetes and Stan was more determined to
lecture Liane about vegetarian alternatives. Eric had to patiently remind them
that this was his birthday and that it wasn't polite to pull their weapons on
each other over baking styles.
It almost worked. Only half of their backyard fence was damaged by Stan's
molotov cocktail this time.
None of them brought presents, but them being there to celebrate was a gift
enough for Eric. He had let them have full range of the entertainment and food,
because he was simply content to bask in this strange frenemy relationship he
had with them.
They were the only people who acknowledged his existence, albeit barely. For
all of their depravity, he treasured them.
Kyle had been less than enthused about the whole party. He sat on the bench and
spent the remainder glaring at him like he was a bug that deserved to be
squished under his expensive sneakers. Even when he racked up the highest kill
count out of them all, Eric couldn't help but be drawn to the ginger boy. It
was stupid and pathetic, but Eric had nursed a small crush since well… forever
probably.
Maybe he wasn't that out of place with the others after all. Even someone as
pure and good as Eric Cartman wasn't immune to that devilish charm.
Ever playing the gracious host, Eric couldn't help but shimmy over next to him
on the bench. "Aren't you enjoying the party, Kyle?" It wasn't the best
opening, but Eric wanted the excuse to sit next to him without fear of getting
shanked.
"No," Kyle said simply. "But that's not the point, is it? This is your party,
Cartman."
He didn't like it when he called him Cartman, but it was better than fatass he
supposed. "Well… the party is for me, yeah, but I just want my friends to have
fun."
"I'm not your friend." And it's enough for Eric to look away and try not to
cry. Kyle rolled his eyes. "Don't be a pussy, shayn."
Shayn? It must be another insult in that Jewish tongue. Eric sniffed sadly, but
he was eleven now and he needed to stop acting like a baby. He fought with
himself for a moment and tried to take Kyle's advice to heart, but his
concentration was immediately dashed the moment he felt gloved fingers splay
against his back.
His heart thumping hard in his chest, Eric stiffened from the soothing motions
down his spine and across his shoulder blades. "K…Kyle?"
There was a flicker of something strange in Kyle's eyes. It was calculating,
but anticipated. "Do you want your present?" he asked thickly.
What happened afterwards was almost a blur for Eric. One moment he was nodding
eagerly and the next he was being dragged up to his own room once the party
ended. He could hear his mother talking on the phone to someone in the kitchen
and it dawned on him. What if Kyle's 'present' would require her interference?
He was nice, but he wasn't stupid.
"It's not gonna hurt, is it?" Eric asked meekly the second he was pushed into
the room. He didn't like pain and he had too many memories being the butt end
of Kyle and Stan's schemes. It was a wonder how he managed to reach his
eleventh birthday from the stories he could recount.
He gulped when Kyle smartly locked the door and gave the room a good look. It
was like he was considering the best way to stain his plum colored walls with
blood. Then he sized him up like he was a grade A moron. "When's the last time
I've ever hurt you, fatass?"
"Well, you called me fatass now, so…"
He rolled his eyes. "I mean physically, dumb shit."
Eric was surprised to find he didn't have a recent answer for it. Sure Kyle
threatened to maim and kill him on a daily basis, but he never went forward on
them. Not like the others. Like when Kyle promised Bebe he'd steal her kidney
overnight to save Kenny's sister from dialysis - he followed up on that
promise. Now her window's been replaced with bulletproof glass.
A memory did stick with him however. "Preschool."
Kyle raised his eyebrow. "Preschool?"
"Yeah…" Eric sat down on the edge of his bed, his baby blue eyes glazed
over from nostalgia. "Trent Boyett was giving you a hard time, so I was your
practice dummy."
Sharp green eyes lit up in surprise. "You still remember that?" he asked in
such a low, coy tone it started to make Eric a bit nervous.
How could he forget? "We hid under the crayon table," Eric recalled with a
frown. "You climbed on top of me and tried to choke me to death." He remembered
tiny gloved fingers trying to wrap around his thick throat, but to no avail.
Kyle had spent the entire nap time experimenting how to best steal Eric's
breath so he can do it to Trent Boyett next time.
He had whined from the pressure of Kyle's small determined hands and bony knees
digging into his sides. His throat was much too thick to be effective, but
afterwards Kyle gave up and found content spending the half hour sitting on his
chubby stomach and flexing his grip on Eric's neck and shoulders.
Eric remembered how they just looked at each other. There were no words for
fear of alerting the teacher - just Kyle nonverbally squeezing his neck and
Eric answering back with just his eyes and the grit in his teeth like it was a
special secret between them.
They spent more time with each other after that. Kyle even beat up another kid
for his lunch because Eric was still hungry during snack time. The fatass thing
started from there too.
Kyle was now staring at him the same way he did when he was a toddler. Eric
warily watched Kyle cross the room until they bumped knees.
"You know…" Kyle mused, those green eyes glittering down at Eric with something
indecipherable. "That was fun. Why don't we do it again for ol' time's sake?"
Eric gaped at him in horror. Kyle had been too young and inexperienced to
succeed that time. This time? He was sure the Jew had long since perfected the
art of strangulation. Eric squeaked in alarm when he was suddenly shoved
backwards onto his bed, the springs creaking loud in his ears.
Kyle jumped on top of him so quick, Eric thought he had whiplash. He squirmed
under Kyle's hold out of sheer instinct. "Y-you said it wouldn't hurt!"
"No I didn't." He pinned Eric's thick wrists down with surprising strength.
"Pay attention, fatass."
"Please don't!" Eric whimpered desperately. "It's my birthday, Kyle!"
Those green eyes blinked down at him as if thoughtful. "Hmm… so it is," Kyle
decided gently. Then he added as an afterthought, "How does this feel?"
"What?"
"How does this feel?" Kyle repeated and he suddenly shifted upwards until he
was seated comfortably on his stomach just like back in preschool. The pressure
was alien, but strangely safe and intimate.
Instead of fear, Eric started to blush. It was actually comforting with Kyle
like this - just sitting on top of him and nothing else more. Kyle smirked down
at his positive reaction and laced their fingers together.
"Does this hurt, shayna?" he inquired with a sly purr. "Don't be shy. You're a
big boy now. Well…" he suddenly snorted and squeezed at his large belly with
his knees. "…in more ways than one."
"I… I like it," Eric admitted shyly. When Kyle raised an eyebrow, he added
quickly, "I like it when you're sweet to me." It was a secret he swore to keep
with him to the grave, but with them like this, maybe the secret could be
reality. He smiled nervously. "It makes me happy."
"Does it?" Kyle replied off-handedly. He seemed honestly distracted about
something. Eric wondered if this was a good thing or not. "I guess letting you
live would be a nice birthday present, huh?"
"I would like another birthday party, yes." His comment made Kyle laugh. It was
short and rich and Eric tried to commit the sound to memory. "Was that it?
Letting me live?"
Kyle then turned thoughtful and strangely quiet. His adam's apple even started
bobbing in his throat with what felt like hesitation. Kyle never hesitated
doinganything. Now Eric was starting to worry.
He squeezed their fingers together. "Kyle?"
"Close your eyes," Kyle commanded out of the blue but, without hesitation, Eric
took in a deep breath and did as he was told. It was a stupid move - so stupid
in fact, he might just deserve losing his life over it.
He could feel Kyle still before he exhaled in utter disbelief. Then there was a
shift in weight and…
Eric's eyelids flew open the moment something soft and warm pressed against his
lips. Blue connected with intense green. It was a literal supernova. Reality
tore itself and a single point in him suddenly expanded into infinity. His
insignificant childhood crush evolved in a wash of desire and possibilities.
It was just a kiss. A tiny, surprisingly gentle kiss. But it became the
highlight of Eric's entire world knowing that it was Kyle.Was this even
happening?
"Are you fucking crying?" Kyle sputtered out in disgust. Eric tried to brush
away the stray tears, but Kyle did it for him with a sigh and a swipe of his
thumb. The action almost made him cry again.
"My… my first kiss…" Eric tried to articulate his feelings aloud. It felt like
a dream - it had to be a dream. Kyle could have anyone in South Park. They
weren't even friends.
But Kyle didn't want to be friends. He leaned forward and spelled it out for
him by tracing his lips against Eric's cheek to sample his tears. "You okay?"
"…yeah," Eric finally sighed in content. He didn't want it to end. He didn't
want this to be just a joke. He could spend the rest of his life laying here
with Kyle's comforting weight and sweet kisses. Everything beyond these very
walls could have ceased to exist and it wouldn't matter at all.
"Good answer," Kyle purred softly before taking back those lips. "I wasn't
gonna let you get away with anything else. Happy fucking birthday."
===============================================================================
Eric yearned for hours spent in warm houses and lazy kisses. He ended up
returning home with three dollars to his name and his sweater wet and cold from
the sudden snowstorm on the way back. His mother called out that it was almost
time to shut the house down for curfew, but her words were just static to his
cold sensitive ears.
He retreated to his room and peeled off his sweater and jeans. It was cold in
here too, colder than usual, and he couldn't help but shiver before sliding
into the sheets in nothing but his boxers and an undershirt.
Five years ago he had his first kiss on this bed. Two summers ago he lost his
virginity on it. He clung to these memories to soothe the ache in his chest.
They're unsullied and pure - a rare commodity in this questionably dangerous
mountain town.
The nightly purge was going to begin soon. He peeked out of his covers from the
golden light invading through his window. Butters Stotch's room was directly on
the other side across the fence. 
Following the path of light, Eric had an unwanted viewing of Butters in the
midst of tugging a ski mask over his face. Like Stan and the others, he was
going to join in on the vandalism and assault on the town. Heaven help those
that didn't have proper protection.
Before his mother turned on the house's security system, he caught a glimpse of
Butters watching him across the way just before the metal shutters came down.
His psychotic wink before the window clicked in place bothered Eric longer than
it should have.
He ignored his mother's call for dinner and forgot to check in with Kyle as the
purge commenced.
***** The Third Night of Hanukkah *****
Around ten in the morning, Stan threatened Eric at knife-point on his own porch
for missing his nightly check-in. Every time Kyle was in a bad mood, his super
best friend came running like a mafia hit man about to shake him down. He
should have expected it really.
But Stan didn't even give him the chance to explain… or even invite him inside
for breakfast.
"Every year, the same shit happens," Stan snarled. "You do your gay ass
donation drive and Kyle gets pissed as shit. Are you looking to get yourself
gutted and hanged on a light pole?"
Eric shivered at the fate of poor Billy Turner. "Preferably not." He held his
palms up in surrender when Stan nearly tried to slash at his neck with the
blade. "Stan! Remember your breathing exercises! Breathe in, breathe out -
count your sheep…"
"Fuck you! Whatever faggot problems you've got with Kyle, you know better than
not checking-in," Stan bared his teeth at him. "What the fuck is wrong with
you? I'm tired of Kyle bitching about your fat ass! You better get on your
hands and knees and blow him for forgiveness or I swear to god if I miss
another purge just to deal with your guys' shit - !"
"Kyle was talking about me?" Eric would literally be on cloud nine if he wasn't
fearing for his life right now.
Stan looked ready to vomit at the goofy smile on Eric's face. "Ugh! Fucking
gross, dude. Don't smile! Fuck this shit. Just don't miss your check-in or I
swear to God you'll find your mother bleeding out on your sofa come morning!
Don't test me!"
"Don't you want pancakes?" Eric called out when Stan started backing off.
"They're gluten-free!"
Stan's snarl disappeared when he blinked up at him. "Does she still have that
homemade jam?"
"It's strawberry this time, but yeah."
"Oh." Stan shrugged and casually pocketed his knife. "Yeah, sure dude." When he
walked past him and ventured inside, he called out, "Hey Ms. Cartman! Eric
invited me in for pancakes!"
Liane popped her head out from the kitchen with a sweet smile. "Leave your
weapons by the door, sweetie! Oh my, it's a good thing I made extra batter!" 
When his daily tradition of Stan-mongering ended, Eric got to work seeking
further donations at the local mall. He was surprised and relieved to see a man
dressed in a Santa Claus outfit ringing a bell for the Salvation Army. Eric
didn't hesitate dropping a few bucks into his pail.
"Thanks kid," the man gruffed out.
"No, thank you," Eric said proudly. "It's good to see someone spreading good
will to help out the less fortunate!" His good humor fell when 'Santa' pulled
out his 'eggnog' and knocked back the 40oz in one swig.
The man let out a large, disgusting burp. "All fine and dandy, dude, but I'm
just doin' this for community service. Probation's a bitch - hey baby!" A woman
walking by with a small child flashed them a look of disgust. Santa rolled his
hips at her anyways. "Wanna take a ride on Santa's sleigh?"
"Up yours, fucktard," she drawled and flashed him the finger. The little
toddler took out her pacifier and spouted out. "Asshole!"
"Marie! What did I tell you about swearing?" she hissed as she steered her
precious demon child into the mall. "Save it for your bastard father!"
Santa licked his dirt stained lips and hollered back, "You're on my list,
bitch! And your little brat too!"
Eric was regretted giving him what was left of his allowance money.
It was hotter in the mall, so Eric lost his trademark red jacket a half hour
in. He wasn't wearing a festive sweater this time, but maybe that was for the
best. He tried again asking for donations near popular stores like Macy's and
Forever 21, but like his door-to-door stint two days ago, not one person was
vaguely interested in helping veterans.
Two hours later, Eric decided to pack things up early to do some last minute
Christmas shopping instead. He didn't have a long list of recipients, but it
was a lonely blessing in disguise. It just meant he had more to give to
charity.
He avoided the busier stores. Many deaths happen in malls during the bargain
bin season and he didn't have any weapons on him to defend himself. Kyle and
the others gave him a lot of hell about that. He just didn't like hurting
people - even at the cost of self-preservation.
Spencer's was surprisingly empty when he walked in. Gag gifts and frat boy
items of a sexual variety were slashed by 30% but that was about as much
consideration Eric gave to them. He blushed to high heaven remembering how many
times Kyle herded him in with the intention of humiliating and corrupting him.
===============================================================================
Two years ago, it had been Kenny's first day on the job in Spencer's and Eric
found his choice of shop to be very inappropriate. He just didn't want to be
here - it was crude and gross and it made a mockery of lovemaking - because sex
should be sacred and beautiful and filled with trust and love…
Kyle called him an idiot. Then he made sure he dragged Eric through the entire
store to comment on every single thing, from sexually explicit beer pong sets
to Christmas-themed ball gags.
He was this close to bolting if not for the fact that he was spending some time
with Kyle in public. They don't usually interact in front of people and when
they did, it was usually when Kyle ripped on him.
But here he could feel the flush of Kyle against his side and the absent stroke
of fingers on his lower back. It was domestic. It was perfect and wonderful.
Eric's eyelids fluttered shut in utter content. He pressed his cheek into
Kyle's shoulder while he examined the Hanukkah rack with a critical frown.
"Dreidel buttplugs and menorah dildos, but no SS uniform," Kyle sniffed with
disdain. "What kind of shop is this if you're not gonna go full kink?"
"Mmm?" Eric opened his eyes a fraction. "That's not appropriate, Kyle."
"I'm Jewish, fatso. I can decide what's appropriate. And right now I'm
insulted."
"You're insulted because you can't be offended?" Kenny scowled over the rack of
whips he was stocking up on. "You can file your complaints under We-Don't-Give-
A-Shit, Broflovski."
Kyle snorted. "Is that filed before or after 'watersports'?"
"Before of course. Can't you spell? E goes after A."
"Your customer service is shit, Kenny," Kyle snarled. "Keep mouthing off and
I'll make you lick my boots like the poor whore you are."
Kenny nearly clipped Kyle on the nose waving a giant pink dildo around. "Bring
it, pillow princess!"
Eric eagerly took advantage of the spitfest between the two of them to snuggle
against Kyle's arm and inhaled his scent. Maybe he could imagine them at
Stark's Pond instead - with candles and the warm spring air…
He stilled when the noise of their conversation came to an abrupt end. Eric
looked up and paled from Kyle's narrowed green eyes. Kenny snickered in the
background.
"How cuuuuuute!" he jeered. "Is ickle-wickle Eric Cartman snuggling his bae?"
Eric flushed and realized he was squeezing Kyle's arm like some kind of
desperate schoolgirl. He sheepishly pulled away after Kyle flashed an annoyed
look at Kenny. "Sorry, Kyle. I didn't…"
"You're apologizing? Seriously?!" Kyle hissed and, with furious expression,
kicked over a rotating rack of Thanksgiving center-penises and stomped deeper
into the store. Eric could hear him swear incoherently in Yiddish. 
He didn't know what he did wrong. Was Kyle really that angry at him for that?
"I didn't mean to!" he whined to Kenny, who could only roll his eyes at the
drama. "It's not like anybody saw us, Kyle!" he shouted over the racks. "I
promise to pay attention next time!"
"PUTZ!" Kyle had shouted in answer. 
"Dude…" Kenny shot him an exasperated sneer. "I know you're weird and innocent
and shit, but did you have to replace your intelligence for it?"
They could hear Kyle start knocking more shit over. Kenny swore under his
breath at the potential mess, but Eric was too busy growing upset over his fuck
up. "What did I do wrong?"
"Pfft, I'm not telling you shit," he grumbled and got to work fixing up the
rack. "I'm not your therapist. I just pick up the dildos."
Eric didn't want to remain behind with the intimidating items so it wasn't even
an option to quickly find his boyfriend and straighten things out. Kyle had
stopped rampaging through the aisles. Eric found him trying to light up a
cigarette in a corner between the lube and lingerie shelves. His moments were
fidgety and agitated like some kind of caged animal, which made it hard for him
to flick at the trigger of his lighter. Kyle was in his paranoid mood now,
which usually meant no one should go near him unless they liked being beaten to
death.
Despite this, Eric didn't hesitate to gently pry the lighter from his
boyfriend's fingers. Kyle watched him warily as Eric clicked the flame to life.
After a long beat, the manic gleam in Kyle's eyes settled and he tipped his
head forward so the butt of the cigarette could be lit. Eric patiently kept his
distance while Kyle took a long drag and took point of his surroundings.
This hadn't been a very good day for either of them. Word had spread throughout
the school earlier this week that someone was out to assassinate Kyle. That was
why they were helping Kenny settle in his new job. The mall was full of people,
but Kyle could keep an eye on anyone going in and out of the store. Strength in
numbers was key, but whatever Eric did seemed to be the final nail that undid
Kyle's composure.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his gaze downwards to the lighter. "I'm not very good
at this whole sneaking around. I just like holding you, I guess."
Kyle said nothing. His expression was indecipherable.
"I can't help it, Kyle!" Eric continued under his breath. "But I'll try to do
better. Please don't be mad."
Those beautiful green eyes narrowed in disgust. "When the fuck did I ever -
" Kyle paused in confusion, then glared at Eric. "Oh fuck you."
"But Kyle…"
"Blow me!" Kyle snapped and shoved Eric hard with his shoulder on his way out.
Was that a threat, or…?
Eric threw caution to the wind and grabbed Kyle's wrist hard. Kyle's face
contorted from his paranoia again, but Eric was determined to get through to
him. Maybe he was the only one that could. There had to be a way to placate
him. He didn't want to give up.
"I…" he faltered for a moment, but he screwed down his courage. Anything for
Kyle. "Did you want to… um."
"Spit it out, Cartman!" 
Eric flushed in embarrassment, but he slid his other hand up Kyle's jacket
before deliberately slipping it into the waistband of Kyle's loose jeans. Kyle
stiffened, his sharp eyes widening a fraction in disbelief. "Are you serious
right now?"
Kyle once told him that if your partner was coherent, you were doing it wrong.
With a tiny pout, Eric squeezed Kyle through his briefs and, much to his
surprise, Kyle nearly dropped his cigarette holding back a heavy moan. "S-
sorry!" Eric said hastily, his fingers retreating. "Did I squeeze too hard - ?"
"Oh fuck, seriously? If you stop, I'll cut your fingers off," Kyle warned and
the threat made Eric squeak before he squeezed again. When Kyle bucked into his
palm, a thrilling sensation of control overwhelmed him. He didn't know why it
was arousing, but the thought of holding Kyle in the palm of his hand - the
teen helpless under a simple twitch of fingers - stirred something powerful
within Eric.
He squeezed a third time and emboldened, he ran his palm up and down. His mouth
started to dry. How shameful doing this in public - in a store no doubt. Kyle's
response was enthusiastic, his paranoia completely forgotten. He let out a
beautiful sound of groans until he suddenly looked around and snatched Eric
hard by the jacket. Kyle ended up hauling him into one of the black curtained
dressing rooms in the back of the store. 
"Kyle…?" Eric's shoulders seized up in embarrassment when Kyle shoved him head
first through the curtain and draped himself on the only seat in the cramped
dressing room. He got himself comfortable and splayed his legs out for the
larger boy.
"Are you gonna chicken out again?" Kyle asked with a sneer. He gestured between
them, flicking cigarette ash all over the place. "You weren't afraid of my dick
last night."
Eric swallowed hard at the memory. His body literally tingled and, when he
dropped to his knees, he was already light headed. This was dirty. Sinful. But
the heavy-lidded stare aimed at his direction was anything but disgusting.
His fingers were shaking and he hadn't even done a single thing yet. But once
he flicked the button of Kyle's jeans open and pulled the zipper down, he was
trembling so badly he'd be a shoe-in for Parkinson's.
Kyle sighed in disappointment and stopped him with his free hand. "Stop," he
said gruffly. "Jesus fucking Christ. Just… just stop."
Eric found himself unable to speak. Despair and disappointment hit him harder
than he had ever felt in his life. He didn't want to stop, but he couldn't
vocally translate that he wasn't shaking out of fear. Kyle gave him a resigned
frown before buttoning up again.
"W-wait…" Eric stuttered. "I can…"
"I know," Kyle said cryptically and Eric tried not to cry when Kyle cupped his
face and pulled him up for a surprisingly tender kiss. "Don't worry about it."
His lips were liquid courage. Eric drowned in it, pulled on it for strength. He
was sick of playing innocent, but he didn't know how to turn it off and give
Kyle what he deserved.
Kyle deserved a better, stronger partner. Someone who could protect him.
Someone who wasn't fucking afraid of giving out blow jobs. Eric's blue eyes
darkened from the pity party going on inside of him. It wouldn't do. He
couldn't imagine Kyle with anyone but else but him. 
Eric peeled back the opening of Kyle's jeans and pressed his mouth flush
against the bulge in his briefs. There's a sudden inhale from above, but his
shoulders relaxed when Kyle twisted his fingers into his hair, gently coaxing
him on.
"Easy, dumbass," Kyle grinned, sliding a finger down Eric's cheek. "Take your
time…"
"But Kenny…"
"Fuck him. C'mon… that's it." A low sigh left Kyle's throat when Eric opened
his mouth more and got used to the heat of it through the cotton, the scent
against his tongue. Feeling more courageous, he pulled at the waistband of
Kyle's briefs and swallowed hard at the sight.
It wasn't the first time he had seen Kyle's dick and it definitely wasn't the
first time he's touched it. But he couldn't help the flush rising up his neck
when it sprung free. Eric must have looked at it for too long because Kyle
started to pinch at his hairline for attention. He shot back a shaky smile. 
"Are you really gonna make that face every time?" Kyle teased, but he quickly
fluttered his eyes shut and groaned when Eric experimentally slid his fingers
around the shaft and stroked him.
"Hmmm… this face?" Eric flicked his tongue along the head, tasting the bead of
pre-cum forming from the tip. He wasn't sure what to make of it aside from the
fact that it was a bit salty. "Ngh…"
Kyle popped an eyebrow. "Don't like it?"
"I'm… I dunno," Eric murmured. He could hear customers muffling through the
dark fabric. Before he could seize up and come back down to reality, Kyle
brushed along his scalp with a wicked smile.
"You should try some more," he whispered huskily before dragging him back down
over his lap. "You'll get used to it."
It sounded like a promise. Eric's heart was beating frantically in his chest.
Kyle wasn't mad at him anymore. Pleased by this information, Eric continued to
run his tongue along the underside, urging on by the slight sounds Kyle made
when he slid against a prominent vein there. Instinct slowly overrode his
actions and, without a moment for Kyle to breathe, Eric sank his mouth over the
tip.
Kyle let out a strangled sound and bucked up into his mouth, inching more of
his cock past his lips. He had never heard Kyle make these sounds before.
Before he knew it, Eric nearly panicked trying to take the rest of Kyle down
and his scalp suddenly seared in pain when Kyle forcefully pulled his hair up.
Eric gagged from the action and coughed hysterically. "K… Ky…"
"I didn't want you to choke…" Kyle was breathless, his eyes completely black
from blown pupils. Once Eric stopped coughing, Kyle loosened his grip. "You
okay?"
He wiped a bit of saliva from his chin with a determined expression. "I h-had
it…"
"What?"
Eric wasn't sure how to explain, so he answered by dropping his head back down
to take Kyle's cock down his throat again. Kyle fisted through his hair in
warning, but Eric forced his way through the pain to prove himself. He
flattened his tongue and inched his way down in one bob until he was nose-deep
in dark auburn curls.
"F-FUCK!" Kyle swore and it practically gave them away. At this point Eric was
too lost in his victory to care so he started palming himself through his
jeans. He had Kyle down his throat. Kyle was literally shaking under his hands.
It felt good to be in command.
Kyle was panting like an animal when Eric pulled back up. He didn't gag this
time. Pride flickered behind those green eyes. "I should've known… a big boy
like you can swallow a cock like that," he chuckled breathlessly and tapped out
the cigarette on the wooden bench. "Bet you stuff more shit in your mouth in
comparison."
"You shouldn't insult someone who's doing… doing…" Eric flushed hotly.
"Say it," Kyle commanded with a depraved grin. "Say that you're sucking my
cock."
Eric pouted and busied himself by stroking him down. It was easier now that his
saliva kind of lubricated it. "I'm sucking your…" he swallowed hard. "…cock."
"Good boy," Kyle purred and tugged him back down again. "So fucking
cute, shayn. Keep going…" He rested his head back against the thin dry wall,
his fingers petting through Eric's now messy hair. "Yeah… just like that. Unh…
oh fuck there. Again."
The sanctity of the dressing room was ruined by gentle suckling sounds and the
low whispers of encouragement from his Jewish boyfriend. Eric's throat was
getting sore from the treatment and it didn't help matters when Kyle would
occasionally stop the shallow bob of his head to sink him all the way down to
the shaft. He learned to relax and count his breathing while Kyle twitched
against his tongue. What he was doing was utterly shameless. He was definitely
a full-blown sinner now. Literally.
His plan to give them abstinence rings for Kyle's birthday went down the drain.
Jesus might not forgive him this time. 
"Faster," Kyle hissed. His thighs tensed under Eric's grip and his cock was
throbbing against his teeth. Eric hummed and bobbed his head faster and if it
wasn't going to be his throat righteously abused in the next hour, it was
definitely going to be his neck. He whimpered as his own cock strained through
his pants, but he was too focused on getting Kyle to completion than his own.
Kenny's voice drifted through the curtain. "Hey! You guys fucking in there?!
Holy shit, you are!"
Kyle forced Eric's head down before he could even try to pull away. "Don't you
stop. Keep going… fuck uhn…!" he warned before raising his voice when the
curtain ruffled. "Get the fuck out of here, Kenny!"
"I work here, assmunch!" Kenny tried to pull back the curtain, but Kyle wasn't
going to let their friend disturb such a magical moment. With one hand buried
in Eric's hair, he drew out his gun from his jacket with the other and let out
a warning shot in the air, leaving a bullet hole right through the ceiling of
the dressing room.
Eric flinched between Kyle's legs at the loud sound, but the shuffling of
fabric finally stopped.
"Okay okay! Fuck! You're gonna get me fired, you ungrateful dipshits!" Kenny's
voice muffled until it was out of earshot.
Satisfied, Kyle slid the barrel of his gun across Eric's jaw. "Suck me off,
Eric. Or you can suck this one instead."
He didn't need to order him. Eric was far too gone in the haze of sex. He
proved it by flicking his tongue along the tip of the gun and watched those
green eyes widen in surprise before rolling back in pleasure. Kyle purred in
utter content and fisted through his chocolate locks until his mouth was back
over his leaking cock. After a few more moments, Kyle's orgasm started to climb
and Eric choked and sputtered when Kyle refused to let him up. He braced
himself on Kyle's knees and struggled for release before he… before he…
With loud groan, something hot and alien spurted and slid past his tongue while
Kyle continued to thrust out his orgasm as deep as he could down his throat.
When Kyle's grip lessened and his twitching evened out, Eric pulled away as
fast as he could and nearly made the cubicle rock when his back slammed hard
against it.
He clutched at his throat and accidentally swallowed almost all of it in the
process. Wild blue eyes connected with calm green.
Kyle leaned back with a smug grin. "Did you swallow?" When Eric averted his
gaze, he let out a bark of laughter. "Of course you did. You'll eat anything
tasty, wouldn't you? Such a good boy."
There was a trail of semen down his chin when Eric looked at the mirror. He
blushed hard and tried to scrub it off.
It only made Kyle laugh harder. He gestured him over with two fingers. "Come
here, shayn."
Eric obediently crawled over and sighed when Kyle pulled him up for a deep,
satisfying kiss. Kyle's tongue snaked through, tasting himself in the process,
and Eric couldn't help the hoarse moan that left his lips.
"Mmm…" Kyle murmured. "I've never tasted cum before…" He pulled on Eric until
he was situated on his lap. "Did you like it?"
"It came from you," Eric murmured shyly. "I like all of you."
"What a shitty answer," Kyle teased and swiped a bit of himself from Eric's
lip. "Honestly, I don't really see much appeal with my own stuff." Green eyes
flickered down to the bulge still sticking out of Eric's jeans. "Maybe… I need
a second opinion."
"O… Oh." Eric could only say meekly before Kyle coyly popped open his poor,
neglected trousers.
Kenny didn't get fired for their shenanigans thanks to Kyle's method of
negotiation. The gun helped too.
===============================================================================
Inappropriate Christmas music filled the shop, which helped clear out the
memory of Kyle's sinful touch. Kenny was in the middle of skimming his phone
for porn now that he had WiFi access here. Eric immediately made a beeline for
his friend, who was more preoccupied helming the cash register than helping the
stragglers pick out anal beads or something.
The sex depraved young man finally looked up from his phone. He blinked at Eric
in confusion and then looked over his shoulder for a familiar face. "If you're
looking to have sex in the dressing room, you've got like…" he checked his
phone. "Five minutes, tops. Manager's out to lunch."
Eric flushed hotly. "I-I-I… c-come on, Kenny. I'm not here t-to…"
Kenny frowned at him. "Well shit, you didn't come in with Kyle? Holy fuck. I
thought it was too 'hardcore' for your non-virgin eyes or some shit." He air-
quoted 'hardcore' and it only made Eric blush more. "What's up, tubby?"
"I'm not here with Kyle," Eric clarified and tried to ignore the sinking
feeling in his stomach saying those very words. "I'm here for you."
Kenny's lips turn into a wolfish smile before he dissolved into a fit of
giggles. "Sorry Cartman, you've got that sexy sweet thing going on, but I'm not
a chubby-chaser like your boy toy. And I definitely like the placement of my
balls, thanks." He added the last sentence as an afterthought. Eric wasn't sure
what he meant by that, but he was far too modest to ask.
"I just want to know what you want for Christmas," he said and it was enough to
make Kenny's muted blue eyes light up with anticipation. There was a reason why
they kept Eric around for so long - he wasn't stingy on gifts - not when it
came to his beloved 'friends'.
"I want ninja stars," Kenny replied automatically. He slid his phone away and
rubbed at his blond goatee. "Real ones."
Eric didn't want to ask why. Asking for weapons was a normal, practical thing
to get for Christmas, but ninja stars? "Are you even capable of using them,
Kenny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
Kenny laughed. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I won't use them on you… maybe."
The threat still hung in the air so Eric decided it might be a good idea to
take the request to heart.
Before he could even consider leaving, he caught a familiar mess of red curls
out the door and directly into the food court. Eric's heart flipped
unpleasantly with Kyle's back to him and Heidi Turner clinging on his arm.
Kenny watched his falling expression and snorted disdainfully.
"You should shank her ass," he offered viciously. "I wouldn't let some slut
hang off my man like that. Don't be a pussy."
But he was. Hurting people just wasn't in his nature. Even if it meant staking
claim on his boyfriend. Eric could only stand there like a fool while Kyle
shrugged at the Panda Express menu over his head and for some reason it made
Heidi laugh and hold him tighter.
"He's not…?" Eric's unable to muster the words.
Thankfully, Kenny knew him well enough. "I dunno," he replied cryptically.
"What would you do when your boyfriend's not spending time with you? Not
putting out?"
Eric wanted to drop everything and fix this. Because it was always his
fault. His fault. But when Kyle turned back around to face Spencer's, Eric lost
his nerve and disappeared behind a rack of holiday-themed sex toys instead.
Kenny flashed a grin in Kyle's direction and gave him a two-fingered salute.
"God, you're so pathetic," he told Eric under his breath. "Oh shit. Kyle's
coming in."
He didn't need to be told twice. Heidi's high-pitched giggling replaced the
shop's Christmas music and it grated on Eric's ears. He hugged his donation
pail hard against his chest. Maybe if he squeezed hard enough, it would still
the rapid beating of his heart.
"Welcome to Spencer's," Kenny greeted sarcastically and thumbed at Eric's
hiding place. "Wanna browse our festive dildos over there?"
Eric tried not to whine loudly.
"Hey Kenny," Kyle replied dryly. It was like music to Eric's ears. "Are you
gonna drop by after work for my party?"
He could hear Kenny laugh loud enough to be unsettling. "Well goddamn, Jew! I
just went to the last two ones! You really gonna have a party the entire week
or something?"
"Something like that," he drawled. "My parents are throwing it. It's a fucking
snooze-fest without someone to entertain me." Eric could hear Heidi practically
coo in agreement at his words. She was probably draped all over him like a
human pelt. An unfamiliar spark of something foul ignited in his stomach.
"Why don't you invite Cartman?"
Kenny's question brought an uncomfortable silence. Eric wished he could bury
his head in the sand and never come back out. But he couldn't help but peer
conspicuously around the rack when Kenny suddenly shouted in anger. Kyle had
shoved Kenny back hard in order to peer over the counter.
"He's here, isn't he?" Kyle growled and it made both Heidi and Eric's knees
weak. "Stop fucking hiding and face me like a man, fatass!"
Eric whimpered, unable to ignore his lover's summons. He was about to retreat
in shame from the rack of dildos, but was stopped by Heidi's comment.
"Eric Cartman? Why would you invite him?"
"You as dumb as a box of rocks, Heidi," Kenny slurred out. "Who do you think
your mancandy here has been been banging the past five years?" Eric suppressed
the urge to correct him. They just started having sex two years ago. Even now
the thought still made him blush like a goddamn school girl.
Kyle said nothing when Heidi swiveled her head in question. Eric wasn't sure if
that was a good sign or not. "But why…?" she demanded, utterly confused. "He's
fat and ugly as fuck! Totally beta!" This got Kenny bawling in laughter.
"If I wanted your opinion on who I choose to fuck, I'd put a ring on your
finger wouldn't I?" Kyle snapped and she cowered under his words. Eric's heart
fluttered.
"May I suggest bulking up to get Kyle's dick jumping?" Kenny eyed her
considerably. "Then again, you look halfway there, so…"
"Fuck you, slut!" she shrieked, covering her bosom and little else.
Kenny leaned forward on the counter. His sly grin revealed sharp incisors.
"Wow, it must really be Christmas 'round the corner. I usually have to pay
first for that kind of comment."
"McCormick!" Kyle interrupts shortly.
Kenny sighed and shrugged helplessly. "Cartman isn't here, dude. But
he was earlier. He's been bitching for donations again from the shoppers here
all day."
Eric was unable to see Kyle shake his head from this angle. "Goddammit. That
big dumb bastard just won't let up this year, will he?"
"This is Cartman we're talking about," Kenny said seriously. "Did you really
think he's going to stop his stupid ass charities just because his hot piece on
the side ordered him to?"
"If he was smart, he would," Kyle growled and that gnarled feeling in Eric's
gut started festering outwards. He wished they understood why he did this every
year.
A familiar whine of a siren followed by a flashing red light bathes the entire
mall. It's been going on almost like clockwork the entire afternoon, but that
was par on course for the holidays. Either someone tried to steal something or
there was a murder.
Judging by how excited people were running in one direction, Eric's stomach
twisted uncomfortably. It was murder this time.
A pair of familiar sneakers skidded near the glass doors "Hey fellas!" There
was bloodlust in Butters' eyes when he greeted them. "They got a real fat
fucker this time! They'll need like five janitors to clean up all that blood!"
Kyle paled and immediately bolted out the door, shoving Butters hard onto his
ass on his way out. Heidi quickly followed like sheep to his shepherd and they
ended up leaving their packages on the floor.
Once the coast was clear, Eric retreated out from the dildos to keep Kenny's
eyes from wandering to the abandoned shopping bags. Kyle's green hat
disappeared into the sea of spectators, leaving Eric confused and bewildered.
Had Kyle not satiated his thirst for violence the last few days?
When he asked Kenny, the young man could only frown at him incredulously. "God
you're so fucking retarded. Now buy something or get the fuck out."
And that was that.
***** The Fourth Night of Hanukkah *****
It was the fourth morning of Hanukkah, so Eric's mother was much more strict
about his curfew. Emotions were heightened the closer it got to Christmas and
with her baby practicing non-violence, she couldn't afford the chance of losing
him this year. The door and windows to his room were dead bolted and barred at
eight-thirty until seven. It was state of the art and seemingly foolproof.
Well, the last model claimed it to be. 
Not only did Kyle hack into the system, but he had even turned it against them.
That was how Liane discovered that her precious child was romantically
entangled with the hellion of South Park. Unlike Kyle's parents, she had been
absolutely ecstatic. If there was anyone who could guarantee Eric's safety, it
was going to be Kyle - and as a blessing to their 'relationship', she allowed
him full access into their security suite to tinker and improve upon as he
wished. 
Kyle said he was only doing it for the sake of insurance. As far as he was
concerned, Eric was now officially his property and no one was going to fuck
around with his possessions. 
Only Kyle knew how to circumvent their home security and he took advantage of
that to sneak into Eric's room constantly in the middle of the night. Sometimes
he arrived to just fool around in the late night hours and other times it was
worse - his paranoia would drive him to tear up Eric's room for listening bugs
and potential assassins. It would take Eric all night just to calm him down
when that happened. 
He had thought these were one of these nights. Around 3AM, he thought he heard
the deadbolt open in his room, but when he stirred awake long enough to
investigate he found nothing amiss. Maybe Kyle had been there, or maybe not.
The fact remained that he was alive, so it wasn't much of a consequence. Still,
it took him another hour to fall back asleep.
It just felt like someone was watching him. Always watching. 
===============================================================================
Eric was only eight years old and slumbering peacefully in his bed when he
suddenly felt the bed shift. Thinking it was his mother doing her nightly
check-ins, Eric smiled in his sleep and snuggled into her warm, flat chest. 
She felt smaller too. And she smelled like dirt and the kind of incense he
would smell when he visited Kyle's house. It lulled him even deeper into
unconsciousness and he let out a soft contented moan before nestling further
against his mother. "Mama…" 
A hand slapped over his mouth so hard, his eyes shot open. Before he could even
flinch, small but determined fingers pinched hard into his cheeks, leaving
little for him to do but let out a muffled cry as the bed bounced and jostled
from the intruder's movements. His pupils adjusted to the darkness while he
struggled for freedom, but the intruder had sunk bony knees deep into his
sides. Any sudden movement only brought pain and discomfort until Eric was
forced to give up.
His heart thumped loudly in fear, but he finally took in the green ushanka and
wild red curls that belonged to his 'friend'. "Mfkylemf?" he muffled into his
palm. 
Kyle's green eyes were wide and panicked and his expression was twisted in a
madness Eric had never seen before. It scared him. 
"I did it…" Kyle said breathlessly. "I killed someone." He tapered into a
disjointed chuckle. "I hid the body, Eric. I did it all by myself!" To Eric's
horror, Kyle started laughing. He laughed so loud he was sure his mother would
have heard it, but for some reason she wasn't responding. A sinking feeling
pooled in his gut. He started to tear up and maybe that was the reason Kyle
pulled his hand away.
"Did you hurt my mem?" 
"What? No." Kyle looked at him like he was a retard. "Your mom's passed out on
the couch. That's how I sneaked past her."
Eric let out a shuddering sigh of relief before rubbing at his eyes. He didn't
know what would happen to him if his mom was killed. Vengeance was the last
thing on his mind, but then it occurred to him what Kyle said. He had killed
someone. He hid the body. He was the first one in their age group to actually
take a life. 
Everyone would have been proud of Kyle, but Eric? It horrified him. Even worse,
Kyle looked like he was on the verge of falling off of a cliff or pushing
someone over one. Eric chose his next words carefully. "Are you okay, Kyle?"
"Okay?!" he exclaimed with a mad grin. "It's great, dude! Stan thought he was
going to be the first one, but I showed him! I showed all of them that this
fucking Jew can do it!"
He didn't sound very convincing.
"Who did you kill?" Eric said softly.
For some reason, Kyle flinched at him and swallowing hard, he averted that
triumphant gaze. "Ms. Stevenson."
"The kindergarten teacher?!" 
Kyle's grin twisted into a sneer. "She was fooling around with Ike. So I
pretended to be him and told her to meet me at Stark's Pond tonight." He looked
at his palms like he didn't even believe his own story. "It was just so… easy.
Mom was right. One stab to the throat. They go down so fast that way. I
couldn't stop. I thought about what she did and just kept going and going.
There was blood everywhere."
He thought he was going to be sick. His stomach flipped unpleasantly and he had
to cover his own mouth in fear of vomiting. Sure Kyle and the others talked and
boasted about who they were going to kill one day, but it never seemed to
happen. Eric had hoped - prayed - that it was just empty words. 
Against the moonlight, Kyle's bright orange jacket had splotches of blood. Her
blood.
Eric swallowed hard. "Why'd you come here?" he whimpered. Kyle was telling him
everything, confessing his sins to the only saintly child in South Park. Why?
Kyle was silent. He didn't seem to be expecting the question. "I dunno…" he
admitted quietly. "I just wanted to tell you." It was Kyle's turn to look
unsettled and insecure. He folded his arms and started to shake. "I didn't do
it for kicks," he convinced more to himself than to his bed companion. "She was
a bad person. Like fucking evil. You don't do that to kids, dude! She got what
was coming to her. She shouldn't have touched Ike. It was my right. I'm glad
she's dead. I'm glad…"
"You don't look so glad," Eric boldly reached out and held Kyle's trembling
fingers. "I'm sorry, Kyle." 
"The fuck are you sorry for?" Kyle snapped, the words catching in his throat.
"I should get a f-fucking cake! It was my first kill! It's never going to be
the same, Cartman! I can't sleep the same way anymore! I've done my rite of
passage! I'm a man!"
Eric patiently listened until somewhere along his ramblings, Kyle started to
cry. Truly cry. His heart ached for a broken friend,and Eric pulled Kyle by the
hands.
"You should take off your jacket," he whispered gently. "I don't think it'll be
comfortable sleeping in it." To his surprise, Kyle shrugged off his jacket
without another word and let it slip to the floor. While he kicked off his
shoes, Eric reached forward and wiped the tears slipping down Kyle's cheeks,
smiling all the while like it was no big deal.
Because if he stopped smiling, he might cry too. Kyle lost something tonight
and it was hurting him. And they were too young to figure out what that was.
Kyle slipped into the covers and absently played with the top button of Eric's
pajamas. "God your pajamas are so gay," he mumbled half-heartedly.
"Sharks aren't gay," Eric whined into his pillow. When he turned his head, Kyle
was just staring at him. They held their little stare off for quite a long time
as if saying something would make things awkward. He had never invited the guys
over for a sleepover before because his mother expressly forbade it. She just
wasn't sure if she was going to wake up one day to find Eric's throat slit open
just for fun. "Do you want to cuddle?"
"Dude," Kyle's nose wrinkled. "Seriously?"
"My mem cuddles me when I feel bad," he pouted. "Did you know humans can't
survive without physical comfort? I'm just throwing out suggestions here,
Kahl."
"Pfft. You just want me to hug you because you're gay for me." The corner of
Kyle's lips quirked into a smirk.
Eric couldn't stop his blush fast enough when he quickly shook his head. "N-
no!"
"Wait until I tell the guys." Those green eyes started to glitter with life
again. "I'm gonna tell them all about how you tried to feel me up while I
slept."
"I did not!" Eric whined. "And… and if you tell them, they'll know you were in
my room um, so… so you can't because of your reputation!"
Kyle's expression completely changed. He was smiling - genuinely smiling - and
he looked so tickled by his response, Eric couldn't help but blush even more.
"Holy shit, Cartman," he breathed. "You are capable of blackmail." 
Before Eric could protest, Kyle wiggled forward and wrapped his arms around his
thick middle, pulling him close into an actual hug. He stiffened and for some
reason, his heart was pounding so fast, he thought he was having a heart
attack. "K-Kahl…?"
"If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you," Kyle's hot breath burned into
the collar of his pajamas. "You know I can now. It's not an empty threat."
"D-duly noted," Eric gasped when Kyle affectionately squeezed. Unsure of
reciprocating, he let his arms hang awkwardly until Kyle called him out for
being a shitty cuddler. Taking it as permission, Eric slid his arms around
Kyle's cold shoulders and even hummed the way his mother would do to settle him
down. He could feel Kyle's disbelieving exhale against his neck, but he
continued with it anyways. It didn't take long until Kyle's grip grew relaxed
and eventually, the red head dozed off under Eric's off-key lullaby.
And maybe, just maybe, that was how all of this had started. Eric said nothing
about what transpired after that - how Kyle had broken down and curled next to
the wimpiest kid in South Park and found comfort there for the first time in
his life. Kyle never mentioned it either.
But everyday afterwards there was this ease between them. Kyle started to sit
much more frequently by Eric's side at lunch more than usual. Sometimes their
legs would even bump under the table with no one even noticing. 
Something gave that night. For better and for worse.
===============================================================================
When he woke up hours later, he heard his mother's shotgun cock before the dead
bolt clicked open on the other side of his door. "Mornin' mem…" he yawned in
lazy content.
"Morning sweetie," his mother answered cheerfully and he heard her footsteps
echo down the stairs to make breakfast.
He was awake before his alarm, but he neglected it to check on his phone for
any messages from Kyle.
There were none. It left Eric aching and empty. He then decided to lay on his
bed in a lonely stupor until his alarm finally rang and his iDock moved into
shuffle mode to play Carol of the Bells. The Trans-Siberian Orchestra version
was Kyle's favorite and one of the few festive Christmas songs he was able to
leave on without him complaining.
How long has it been since Kyle's touched him, he wondered bitterly. He flopped
back into bed and closed his eyes, letting the haunting drum beat follow the
cadence of his imagination of Kyle all over him like a suffocation.
His thoughts drifted to the last time they were together. It was back in
November, and around that time Kyle always returned exhausted from a round of
his semi-annual shots. No one would expect him to recuperate in Eric's house -
let alone his bed - and Eric's room was practically Kyle's sanctuary.
The sex was lazy and slow through the day, but Eric loved it this way. There
was no urgency or mad dash to the end and his senses were heightened and
extended with nothing to focus on but Kyle. And when Kyle sank his teeth into
the plump flesh of his inner thigh, Eric ended up a righteous mess of moans and
sighs.
His thighs rubbed together at the memory and his breath stilled. Eric gazed
upward at the ceiling, lost as he was in phantom lovers and the way Kyle would
lick and kiss his skin with reverence. Those were the moments where Eric
believed he was truly loved. There were no words - only actions - and that was
more than enough.
"Come here~" Kyle's voice dripped like honey and Eric instantly obeyed. He sat
up on his pillows and imagined Kyle's hand dip down his stomach, but stopped.
Even in his fantasies, Kyle was such a damned tease. Eric bit into his bottom
lip with mild frustration.
"Be a good boy…" Kyle whispered into his skin. "Touch yourself for me."
He was hesitant and wary when he slipped his hand into the waistband of his
flannel pajamas. There was no rhyme or reason jacking it as Kenny would always
say - but at this point he was desperate and wanting for the boy who had been
avoiding his texts and calls.
All he wanted was Kyle. "Oh…" Eric uttered the moment he squeezed around the
base just the way Kyle would do it. He felt his dick stir with a twitch until
he was half-hard and shaking. It was embarrassing to play like this on his own
and he didn't get why the guys treated this American pastime like a gift from
God.
It just wasn't the same without having the real thing to guide him - to stoke
his embers in a way even Eric couldn't master with himself.
He spent a minute or so trying to mimic the sharp rough movements of Kyle's
palm. It was hit or miss because he simply couldn't comprehend or imitate the
savagery and primal lust Kyle was capable of. Eric was much too gentle and
conscious of himself to do it.
The music was reaching its climax, but Eric found himself unable to follow its
beat. He got himself hard enough that he was panting and squirming with
arousal, but it felt like an eternity to follow through. A minute trickled by
before he was finally lost in the memory of Kyle's lips and the slide of his
palms.
"Uhn… Ky-Kyle…" he moaned. The sounds he was making was soon delirious with
desire. "I want…"
But what he wanted was selfish. He couldn't even voice it aloud in the safety
of his own room. Saying it would invalidate all the hard work he had done so
far for the good of humankind. It would only justify Kyle's hate speech of
every man for themselves and Eric just couldn't. 
He had to fight every step of the way to keep Kyle from being correct. It was
the only true resistance he had against his Jewish lover. Otherwise he was one
step away from putting on a leather collar and sitting with content by Kyle's
feet. Eric thought he had more dignity than that. He wouldn't end up like the
others who lapped at his greatness like the dogs they were.
Eric's eyes snapped open from the haze of lust. Dogs? When did he ever call
people that in such a cruel way?
Carol of the Bells long since ended along with the spell of Kyle's ghostly
touch. Eric was left dissatisfied and frustrated by the time the next song came
on. Glee's version of Jingle Bell Rockstarted to play and it would have made
Kyle stop and chuck Eric's iDock into the nearest wall. The mood was
effectively lost.
Eric decided to just give up and take a cold shower instead of following
through. He was such a pussy he couldn't even get himself off.
Christmas music from his iDock was loud enough to carry into his bathroom. Eric
let the music occupy his thoughts while he quickly showered and checked the
state of his stubble in the mirror. His facial hair hadn't been quite the same
since his counterpart in the other, nicer universe tore it off when he was
eight, so he gave up and just shaved it all away.
He liked to think it was a part of Kyle's appeal for him. A few months before
Kyle demanded that they become an item, he had called him fatass less
and shayn more. Eric still didn't know what motivated Kyle. He always spoke of
having an equal by his side, but Eric was far from equal. If anything, they
were complete opposites.
Insecurity was unproductive, so Eric ignored that niggling familiar feeling and
gave up on his growing stubble. He started shaving again just so he didn't look
like a hobo for the telethon tonight.
"Eric, sweetie!" His mother's cut loudly through the music. "There's a guest
waiting at the front door for you!"
Eric abandoned his aftershave and quickly threw on some clothes. He prayed to
God that it was Kyle downstairs. It had to be. He 'looted' his shopping bags
yesterday before Kenny could.
But when he ran downstairs, he only found Kyle's little brother suspiciously
standing on his porch. The boy's fingers occasionally twitched over the holster
under his jacket, but Eric wasn't surprised. Kyle had told him Ike's classmates
weren't very accommodating to foreigners like Canadians.
Then again, Canadians were the bloodthirsty hell-spawn of the north. Some of
that anger, Eric had to admit, was wholly justified.
"Hey Ike," Eric greeted with a friendly grin. "Are you here to pick up Kyle's
bags?"
Ike sneered in answer. He didn't like idle chit-chat and that was just fine
with him. Eric quickly fished out the bags from the coat closet. Ike didn't
check the merchandise because it's Eric and the thought of him stealing was
probably funny.
Eric couldn't help but call out before Ike stomped away. "Ike? Can you…" His
voice failed him again. He wanted to give Kyle a message, but he was too scared
of rejection again.
With a roll of his eyes, Ike turned around. The cardboard bags make an
unpleasant crunching sound. "Let me guess. You're sorry and you love him. Is
that what you want him to know?"
Was it that obvious? Eric looked down at his carpet. "Yes."
"He knows this," Ike said dismissively before waltzing down the yard. "He
doesn't care."
The twelve year old makes off with the bags and a little extra something Eric
slipped in, but he had a sinking feeling it'll just end up in the trash.
===============================================================================
The telethon went without a hitch, but no one tuned in. It was like he was
talking to the air holding the mic and facing the unmanned camera like this. He
was in a nicely pressed navy suit and his light brown hair was perfectly styled
back. It was every bit as professional as he could get and he was proud of
himself for it.
He invited a large group of homeless veterans for food and entertainment, but
the event fell flat when one of them held the party at gunpoint and made off
with his mother's peach cobbler, one vet's camo pants, and three bucks
painstakingly put together from the target pot.
After witnessing the hotel staff chase off the vets with firearms and mops,
Eric learned a valuable lesson never to invite guests to his telethon anymore.
Kenny drunk called him around midnight to tell him on the air that Kyle and
Stan laughed their asses off when it happened. Eric then hung up on him when he
started making requests for certain pornographic movies.
Despite the first shaky night, Eric couldn't stop smiling throughout the rest
of the telethon. Kyle had actually watched his charity drive. Things were
beginning to look up.
***** The Fifth Night of Hanukkah *****
"And now Jim Brown-ish for the annual Christmas report. Jim?"
The only surviving news reporter left from last week's Black Friday Massacre
had his back to the camera. Eric leaned forward on his couch with a pensive
frown when Jim finished spraying the parking lot with bullets and then turned
back around to fix his tie.
"Thanks, Tom! It's looking to be quite the bloodbath this holiday season.
Perhaps the deadliest in the past four years! Behind me is the local mall and
as you can see Tom, they're already pulling bodies off the parking lot."
Over Jim's shoulder, the camera eagerly zoomed in at the gruesome sight.
Looting was spreading from night to midday as people clamored for material
possessions without care for the lives of their fellow man. Some of the bodies
he recognized from school, but none of them he was really close to. 
Eric sighed and picked up the remote to change the channel. He didn't want to
see anymore tragedy.
His mother suddenly snatched the remote from his hand and waved it at
him. "Eric, sweetie. Mommy needs to see the purge forecast so she can decide
whether or not to use an extra generator for the security system."
"Oh." He squeezed at his knees. "Mem, do you ever wonder if life would be
better without the purges?"
Liane offered him a very unsettling blink. "Of course not, sweetie. Why, just
yesterday that awful woman who pointed out my grey hairs at the salon got what
was coming to her last night. I didn't have to lift a finger and scalp her. I
think the purges are just lovely."  
"But… what if it wasn't that lady that died last night?" he encouraged softly.
"What if it was… what if it was me that died?"
The living room settled into an uneasy silence. The milky blue eyes she shared
with her son suddenly clouded over with an unreadable expression, but it
flashed by so quickly, Eric thought he imagined it. Her smile returned.
"Maybe I should move the curfew to six then." She rubbed nervously at her hands
and tried to spin back towards the kitchen. "Yes, I think I'll do that."
Eric stood up. "Mom!" he whined. "You always do this! What if I died? Do you
think the purges are good after that? Why can't we talk abo-"
She whirled upon him so fast, he ended up tipping back onto the cushions. "You
will be just fine, Eric!" Liane stressed out. "Mommy won't let anything happen
to you! Mommy's very good with a shotgun! ISN'T MOMMY GOOD WITH A SHOTGUN?!"
"Y-yes! Jesus!" he stuttered back with a cringe. "Holy crap, mom!"
But she wasn't done. He flinched back when she snatched up his chubby cheeks
and started to stretch them out. "My baby… so innocent. Too pure for this
world… what have I done to deserve this…?"
Eric pouted - or tried to. She kept pulling at his cheeks like taffy. "Mforget
I saith anythin' mem…" he managed to say. "Takth yer medicithne!"
"Oh, alright." It was like someone turned a light on in her head. She let go of
him and cheerfully headed for the kitchen. "Oh and sweetie? I haven't seen Kyle
in awhile. Are you two fighting? Now, I know how much you prefer the romantic
part of a relationship, but you have to be reasonable sometimes. It's the sex,
isn't it? Are you not putting out enough, honeykins?"
"Mem! N-no!" Eric blushed hotly. "We're just… busy. He has his parties and I
have my charity drives. That's all."
She pursed her lips. "Well, if you're sure. But bring him home at least once
this season, alright? If Kyle is here watching you, then mommy could take a
break and get you more Christmas presents."
"That's not necessary, mem," he smiled fondly at her. "All I need is you for
Christmas."
"Too much idealism is bad for your tummy, pumpkin." She paled at the television
screen when they announced that the purge indicator would be hitting the red
tonight. "Oh my. Looks like you're grounded for today, sweetums. You won't be
able to walk the streets without at least a baseball bat!"
Eric groaned. This was going to be another one of those days where she locked
him up in his room.
And she did. He had nothing but his phone and video games to keep him company
until the red alert went back down to at least orange. The telethon was still a
go for the second night, but his mother suggested that she chaperone after what
happened last night. Eric can't really complain - not when his mother had the
shotgun.
Kyle and the others must have realized what was going on because when Eric
booted up his computer to play some mindless Warcraft, the others were already
on. Touched by their appearance, he let them send him to the graveyard multiple
times in a round of PvP while they chatted and complained about overpowered
abilities on Teamspeak.
When they got bored with that, they played a few dungeons to avoid all the
Christmas-y schtick that happened in the main cities. Eric didn't want to
embarrass Kyle and talk about the state of their relationship while Stan and
Kenny were listening in, so he was simply content letting his lover's voice
carry in his headset while he discussed strategy. It was pathetic, but it made
him believe he was here right beside him.
It was sunset by the time Eric heard Sharon shout at Stan for dinner so they
started closing down the game. Stan and Kenny quickly logged off their
headsets, but Eric tried to catch Kyle before he left as well. "Kyle?"
There was a pause.
/What?/The word was dry and flat. He had happily killed Eric's character in so
many gruesome ways, but he still sounded miffed.
Eric couldn't help but say, "I love you." He was both glad and sad he couldn't
see Kyle's response.
Kyle deflected as usual. /Are you going to do your shitty telethon again?/
"Well I have to," he admitted softly into the mic. "I paid for a week's worth
of airtime. It's not refundable." Kyle was a financially-cautious Jew and all.
He banked on that reasoning in the hope Kyle would understand. So his response
seriously surprised Eric.
/If I pay back the rest of the week, will you just fucking stop?/
"Why are you so against my charity drives?" Eric demanded so desperately, it
was almost mistaken for anger. He was surprised by the way his voice carried
loud and strong. "Why does it have to be so embarrassing for you to have a
boyfriend that actually cares about someone other than himself?"
He was afraid that Kyle might log out in anger. He wished he did when Kyle
found his voice to respond.
It wasn't pretty.
/You really don't get it./ He snarled into Eric's headphones. /You're so far up
your own asshole that your argument fucking falls on its face. You're so busy
caring about random strangers that you don't even think about what you're
missing here! Well, I'm not going to sit around and encourage this kind of
behavior from you! Do you seriously love me, Cartman?/
"Yes!" Eric cried out and nearly broke his keyboard in the process. "I do, I
seriously do, Kyle!"
/Then fuck off the charity drive and come here!/ he hissed. /Spend the actual
fucking winter break with me! Grow some fucking balls, Cartman! Prove to this
entire fucking town that you're mine!/
He wasn't sure what happened next. One moment he was at the point of tears and
the next the coiled ball of nastiness in his gut suddenly popped like an angry
cyst.
"FUCK YOU, KAHL!" Eric screamed. "I DON'T NEED TO TAKE SHIT FROM A GUY WHO
DATES BITCHES BEHIND MY BACK!"
Somehow, he ended up tearing the headphones straight from the jack, causing his
computer tower to literally fall off his desk with a loud sickening smack on
the carpet. The jarring sound snapped Eric's seething rage clean in half.
Horrified by what he had done, scrambled to salvage the tower.
He… he cursed. He shouted down Kyle who was known to brutally gut people for
less offenses. The thought made him sick and aroused at the same time. What the
heck was wrong with him?
Fearing for his life, Eric pounded on his locked door and begged his mother to
let him into the bathroom. Before she could even ask what was wrong, Eric dove
past her and made a beeline straight for the shower. Maybe he could 'clean'
away his negativity and the world would right itself again.
But no matter how hard he tried to physically scrub away the malevolence of his
thoughts, it only seemed to fester and grow the more he thought about Kyle.
"What's wrong with me?" he whimpered brokenly at the pristine blue tiling.
"What the hell did I just do?"
Kyle was going to find him and murder him. Eric had to think about ways to
escape - hell,defend himself. All of these scenarios just ran through his head.
He imagined Kyle trying to kick down the door to the bathroom and come at him
in the shower with his switchblade.
He'd do it too. Kyle would tear the curtains off to get to him and slip into
the shower with disregard. Steam would curl in his hair and stick out. That
sickening snarl would pull back those perfect teeth when he grabbed for Eric,
who could do nothing but cower in the corner.
The thought of Kyle sliding his knife down Eric's nude body was enough to make
him hard and leaking. He ended up fisting his cock to literally uncoil the
frustration and anger churning in his stomach and he started panting like he
was in heat. It was strange and horrifying, but he couldn't to concentrate on
why when all the blood in his brain migrated straight to his dick.
He wouldn't be able to move. Not with Kyle wielding his blade. He had to be as
still as death else that sharp point suddenly shifted and actually cut him
deep.
"Turn your disobedient ass around," Kyle would growl. "Or I'll do it for you.
But you won't like it. And it won't be my dick in your ass."
Eric whimpered at the threat and he dutifully turned around. Even his fantasy
of Kyle was downright cruel. He could feel the tip of Kyle's blade tease down
his back, hard enough that it would leave a red mark but not enough to break
the skin. It stopped at the base of his lower back, making Eric shiver.
He was literally throbbing to the point of rutting against the wall for
release. Nonsensical words left his throat and he doesn't know what he's
saying. It just felt so… good.
"Touch yourself," Kyle commanded. He pressed the blade deeper into his lower
back when Eric reached for his straining cock."Not there. You know better than
that."
Eric's breath stuttered. "Ah… Kyle I can't…"
You don't have a choice." The knife slid lower. Eric could feel it brush
alongside his ass. "Or maybe you do."
"N-no!" he gasped and squirmed under the knife. He had never touched himself
down there before. It was too daunting, too strange. Only Kyle's ever stuck his
fingers inside of him - opened him up for actual penetration.
But with a knife at his back, he had little choice. Eric trembled and pressed a
finger against his entrance before Kyle grew impatient and did it for him with
the knife.
It was difficult. He didn't have lube and they learned the hard way that water
wasn't much of a good substitute. Eric bit his lip and pushed deeper until it
gave. He tried to relax, but it had been so long since he'd been penetrated. It
was tight. Ungodlytight. 
Eric sighed into the steam and dropped his forehead against the cool tile. When
was the last time he and Kyle had sex? Weeks ago?
"Another," Kyle purred against the back of his neck. Eric whimpered again, but
obliged, his back stiffening as he eased another finger in. It felt so weird,
but he tried to at least find some way to ease the pressure. He tried
stretching himself out first before adding a third finger, hoping to find his
prostate that Kyle had no problem reaching.
"It's been awhile hasn't it?" Kyle mused bitterly. "Since you've been fucked?
Didn't you enjoy it, Cartman? Don't you miss me inside you?"
"Yeah…" he hissed. The second he curved his fingers, he gasped and saw stars.
His hips shot forward, the discomfort melting away as he brushed against his
prostate. Without even a command, he quickly added the third and slowly thrust
in deep. He shuddered again from a particularly violent shift of his fingers,
but he couldn't find that even pace.
Every other thrust was disjointed and intense. Lost in the familiar sensation
of being fucked, Eric grabbed his dick with his other hand and stroked in time
to his thrusts. His short grunts turned into a heavy whine for more. He wanted
more than his fingers. He wanted to be mercilessly fucked until he was sobbing
for it to stop. Sex was his haven, the only place where he could vocalize what
he wanted so deep within him, it would have never surfaced anywhere else in his
life. 
Kyle brought that out of him. It was Kyle who was unraveling the demon inside
of him. He can hear Kyle's deprecating laugh in his ears, the slick of his
tongue against his shoulder that couldn't be human. No human would be this
depraved. 
Eric wanted to go down to the Broflovski residence with a bat and smash every
expensive item he could find. He wanted to attract the blood of wasted greed
all over the living room so Kyle can take a whiff of it and come at him. He
wanted to bruise and bite every inch of the Jew so everyone would finally
figure out who the fuck owned who. 
He wanted Kyle to mount him and fuck him until he couldn't remember his name.
Not even the fear of retribution and death could slake or soften the straining
cock in his hands. Eric finished so hard and fast against the shower wall it
left him dizzy and exhausted. Kyle wasn't here. He had never been here. 
The scalding hot water eventually ran cold, but he was so satiated and relaxed
he wouldn't even care if armed gingers suddenly arrived to lob his head off.
Something was changing within him. He wanted to make his claim. But post-coital
regret and humiliation finally kicked in when he grabbed a towel. All desire to
intrude into Kyle's house like an alpha went unfulfilled.
===============================================================================
Eric had an hour left before his mother drove him to the Airport Hilton. It was
the second night of the telethon, but this time he came prepared; no homeless
vets and no surprises else the staff would happily chuck him into the broiler.
He didn't check his phone out of pure fear… and perhaps annoyance. He was this
close to losing it if he found the multiple missed calls and texts from Kyle.
If this was going to be his last night, he wanted to do it properly. He was
going to continue the charity drive even if it killed him.
Invitations were sent out weeks ago, but like usual, no one arrived to partake
in the telethon. The target pot in the center of the stage still said $250 out
of $5000 and every single penny of that came from his own savings.
He tried to hold back his anger in front of the camera, but he couldn't help
but plea to the non-existent audience to donate. "Literally one dollar can help
give a veteran a meal!" he implored to the camera. "Like… it's a single
cheeseburger at McDonalds, guys! Seriously!"
Kenny prank called him during the live segment to make fun of his weight but
didn't donate. It was seriously starting to piss him off.
"I'm just trying to help the unfortunate!" he suddenly exploded in front of the
camera. "It's the holidays! Doesn't anyone believe in good will anymore?!"
The phones ring again, but it was all in Kenny's number. Eric dropped his mic
in defeat and cut the telethon a half hour short. It gave him extra time to sit
on the stage and just cry at how shitty the world was before his mother
returned from the lobby and escort him to the truck.
In the meantime, he was sure Kyle's party was in full force. And Heidi and
Rebecca and whoever caught Kyle's eye tonight were spending the evening holding
him and lighting the menorah. Eric wanted to be there right now instead of
listening to his mom prattle on about all the presents she had for him under
the tree.
Eric didn't want presents. He wanted his charity drive to succeed. He wanted to
celebrate Hanukkah with Kyle. But he couldn't have both and it pained him more
than he ever thought possible.
Maybe Kyle was right. No one cared. The vets probably didn't even care. Why
waste time on a fruitless endeavor when he could enjoy the holidays the way he
wanted to? Now Kyle was probably livid with him. He was probably planning to
break up with him or kill him. And all Eric had to show for this mess was a
failed charity drive and loneliness.
All he had left was his kindness and good will. If he gave it up now, what
would become of him? This very town?
The coveted number one spot on America's Most Unfriendly Towns list, most
likely.
***** The Sixth Night of Hanukkah *****
When Liane turned off the security system the following morning, Butters
invaded the house. He knew better than to loot or murder anyone inside and, in
his own twisted way, he seemed fond of Eric enough to not maim him whenever he
visited.
Eric pulled out of his sleepy stupor when he entered the kitchen and found
Butters and Liane locked in some kind of standoff. In a casual swagger, Butters
was leaning on the backdoor like Liane wasn't just aiming the barrel end of her
shotgun at his face.
"Mornin' fellas," Butters purred. "It would be awfully swell if you could help
me with something."
"Don't do it, mom!" Eric cried out. "Just go away, Butters! Whatever you're
scheming, we don't want any part of it! Seriously!"
Butters scoffed and popped the heel of his shoe against the door frame. "Aw
shucks, Eric. You didn't even hear my proposition! I've got…" He sneered and
glanced at his phone. "A few hours to make a dozen cookies for my girlfriend
and your mom makes the best shit. Help me out, it's Christmas!" 
Liane lowered her shotgun a fraction. "Just cookies?"
"I promise to flag your house for Christmas Eve," Butters offered with a
disarmed smile. "No one's gonna raid it for presents this year. Scout's
honor." 
She faltered easily under his sickeningly sweet smile - baking was an easy way
into her wary heart - and soon they started gushing over what kind of cookies
to make like they didn't just have a tense stand off a minute ago.
He didn't want to leave his vulnerable mother in their bloodthirsty neighbor's
vicinity, so Eric abandoned his plans going door-to-door in North Park to help
with the baking.
"I need something Canadian," Butters said eagerly while Liane opened up the
overflowing pantry. "She's a special one. It's gotta be so delicious she'll
want to haul her pretty keester down here. Then I can chain her up in my
basement so she can't leave." 
Eric blinked. "Canadian?"
Like Kyle's adopted brother, Canadians were vicious, unfriendly people and they
hated Americans with the passion of a thousand suns. How fucking typical that
Butters would get a girlfriend up there. 
He shook his head. Swear words? Really? Eric huffed and chastised himself for
the mental swearing.
Liane offered the switch to maple cookies and Eric kept his mouth shut about
lecturing them about cultural sensitivity. Instead he went back to working the
mixer before Butters killed him for being useless. While it was going, his
thoughts drifted to the present he hid in Kyle's bag, but he was too afraid to
check his phone and find Kyle's response.
Speaking of his phone, the dam- darn thing kept buzzing throughout the morning.
Like a pussy, he put it all on silent. He just… didn't want to deal with Kyle
today. 
There was little sound throughout the kitchen except for the appliances and
Butters gushing about how evil and diabolical Charlotte is, but Eric couldn't
help but extol and compare between her and Kyle. It was strange how possessive
he was over it.
Charlotte took out the breaks on her ex's car and sent it crashing over a
cliff? Kyle once mind-fucked Gary Harrison with a few choice words, shattered
his faith in God, and now the boy was working as a gay prostitute in Denver.
All because the boy knocked on Kyle's door to preach about the Mormon faith.
Eric slumped over the dirtied rolling pin in defeat. Even when he was angry at
Kyle, he couldn't help but be obsessed with him. It wasn't healthy, but the
separation was just getting worse.
"Eric, sweetie! You've made the wrong dough!"
He looked down and paled. The dough was halfway done and made especially for
diabetic-safe cookies.
Just the way Kyle liked them.
A tiny hoarse cry left his throat, but he bit into his thick sleeve and tried
to strangle it down. It wasn't not enough because Butters started laughing at
him.
"Jeez, Eric. You have it bad." He said viciously. "Must be nice having
insurance like that."
Eric's shoulders stiffened up in defense. "What is that supposed to mean?'
"Your boyfriend's the reason you're not dead in some gutter," Butters
continued, his dark eyes glittering with malice. "Every time Clyde and the boys
want a piece of you, they can't, because they know Kyle would fuck them up
first. It's been that way since preschool. He owns you. That's pretty
pathetic."
"I think it's sweet," Liane interjected and why should she deny it? Her baby
was safe under Kyle's turf. South Park was pretty much his territory at this
point. "Eric is such a gentle boy. He needs protection."
"I'm right here, mom," Eric said and it was sharp enough to make both Butters
and Liane blink with surprise. "And I can handle myself fine, Butters."
He flinched when Butters brandished a kitchen knife at him, but faltered when
he found himself staring down the barrel of a loaded weapon. Liane wasn't
wielding it this time.
Butters slowly grinned, but his gaze nervously drifted to the end of the
shotgun. "Jesus Christ, Eric. Didn't know you had it in you! What happened to
the whole 'I'm a non-violent person' crap?"
Eric gasped in horror at the gun in his hands. He dropped the shotgun and
immediately escaped the kitchen, but when he kicked on his shoes and opened the
door, he nearly fell over at the sight of Kyle standing casually on his welcome
mat.
Before Kyle could lower his finger from the doorbell and open his mouth, Eric
squeaked out, "Just leave me alone, Kyle!" and closed the door right on his
face.
Liane crossed the living room. "Eric, was that-?"
"Don't let him in!" Eric screamed and bolted into the safety of his room,
locking it for good measure.
He curled at the base of the door and looked at his palms with disbelief. He
grabbed a weapon. He aimed it at Butters' twisted mug. He slammed the door on
his boyfriend's face.
What's wrong with him?!
===============================================================================
Three months ago, the principal finally budgeted enough money to install a
shower system in the locker rooms. People complained far too much about the
odor coming from the jocks. It got to the point where it became a chemical
warfare of deodorant bombs and floral air spray attacks. What was an innocent,
(and almost funny), solution predictably escalated.
The last deodorant bombs maimed a group of students with plastic shrapnel. This
was unacceptable. Terrorist attacks were only allowed off school grounds.
Eric never liked taking the communal showers after gym. He didn't have a flat
stomach or chiseled shoulders like the other boys. Getting made fun of while
wearing clothes was already unnecessary. He didn't need to make the taunts
worse by undressing.
Boys weren't the only instigators. The girls called him chubby and unattractive
in their own passive-aggressive way. They've been calling it for years, so
maybe it was true. 
So whenever he was encouraged underneath Kyle when they got hot and heavy, Eric
always nurtured a flicker of unease. Just what did Kyle see in his physical
appearance that the others didn't? 
He would stiffen and shut down when his slender counterpart explored and
squeezed his waist and chest. He even expected a bra joke the first time Kyle
cupped his chest, but he never made a comment about it. 
All that mattered was Kyle's sick pleasure in ruining Eric's innocence.
Watching porno movies, the slow grind against him in public, the lost of his
virginity, Kyle literally screwed him over - figurative and literally.
But if Kyle clearly enjoyed touching him, Eric had to come to grips with his
body image and accept that it was fine. It took months before Eric was
comfortable losing the shirt and another six months before he let Kyle explore
everything below the waistline. Sex was absurdly easy, but the intimacy of it
still made him squeamish.
His insecurity came crawling back when Kyle cornered him in the empty locker
room with phone in hand. Kyle had made sure to wait until everybody left and
sought him out just as Eric quickly retreated from the shower.
Eric let out tiny whine when he was suddenly pushed against the lockers. Kyle's
invasive tongue prodded and snaked his way past his protesting lips. Just as
Eric sighed and opened his mouth to Kyle in defeat, the shutter sound of Kyle's
phone breaks the spell.
"W-what…?" Eric stuttered, wiping saliva from his chin. He paled when Kyle
showed him the picture.
His mother would faint if she saw that.
"You… don't put that on Facebook!" he squeaked.
"Yeah, dude. It'stotally going on Facebook," Kyle said with a chuckle. He
licked away the excess moisture of Eric's shower from his lips in victory. He
quickly tapped away at his phone. "It's gonna be my profile pic."
"Nyeh… stop it, Kyle!" Eric lost his towel trying to snatch the phone. Kyle's
laugh reverberated in the empty locker room when they ended up wrestling on the
bench. The vicious Jew managed to straddle and pin Eric down, but he lost his
phone in the process.
"Don't delete that," Kyle warned sharply and it was enough to stray Eric's
finger from pressing the trash icon.
Eric lowered the phone and averted his eyes. "Don't put it on Facebook."
"Why would I risk my reputation putting up a picture of me sticking my tongue
down your fat mouth?" he replied and contradicted himself by running his
fingers across Eric's plump thighs like it was the most natural thing in the
world.
"Why would you take the picture at all?" Eric whined. Kyle lowered his head
down in answer. His teeth slid across his damp chest until he brushed an
incisor over a nipple. Eric gasped when Kyle bit down and he squirmed in a mix
of pain and pleasure.
Just when he couldn't handle the pain, his eyes rolled back when a soft wet
lick soothed over the sensitive nub. "Unh… I d-don't understand you, Kahl…"
"Keep talking like that," Kyle purred and rewarded the cutesy tone by sucking
up every stray wet drop that remained on Eric's chest. If he didn't stop soon,
Eric might need to take another shower again, but when Kyle focused on the
other nipple, he was effectively lost.
Once Eric was distracted and mewling for more of Kyle's mouth, Kyle snatched
back his phone and took another picture of him.
"Kaaaahlllll…!"
Kyle rolled his eyes. "You don't give me sexy pictures," he answered with an
accused stare. "Patty sends Stan loads of sexy pictures. Fucking prude."
"Patty's pretty," Eric countered in a soft voice before darting his eyes away. 
"Yeah and you're fat and disgusting," Kyle said harshly. "That's why I'm
sucking off your tits. I get off on fat and disgusting." He threw his hands up
when Eric's lip trembled and took his sarcasm to heart. "God fucking dammit,
Cartman. You devour so much fucking food, it's an art form. You could at least
own up to your hard work."
Eric couldn't hear Kyle's scathing criticism. Kyle could take better pictures
of prettier, slimmer people. He wondered if this was just insurance or a tactic
at blackmail. Kyle was rather good at blackmailing.
He started when Kyle pulled out Eric's phone from his backpack under the bench
and shoved it into his bare chest. Confusion was evident in his blue eyes when
Kyle tossed his hat to the floor and shed his jacket. "Kyle?"
The black shirt came off next. Eric got a pleasing eyeful of a strong slim
chest and a light trail of dark red curls going down his abdomen and into his
jeans. Kyle grinned down at him and rolled his ass over Eric's hips. Eric let
out a strangled whimper as Kyle grounded down over his hard on.
"Do you like this, Eric?"
Eric swallowed hard at the mention of his first name. "Y-yeah."
"Is the sight of me like this making you hard as fuck?" Kyle continued. He said
the last word with such filthiness, it made Eric shudder.
"Of course!" Eric whined out the obvious. "You're… you're perfect."
Kyle offered him a soft look. "So take a picture."
The logic blew his mind - and his heart. Kyle laughed when Eric's shaking
fingers dropped the phone twice on his face, but he finally managed and aligned
the shot.
It was perfect.
Eric was less hesitant when Kyle lifted his own phone to take another picture.
"Bite your lip again," Kyle commanded hoarsely and Eric couldn't help but obey.
He thought he wasn't doing a good job, but Kyle looked so eager with every
flash. "That's it… yeah, that's good. God, that's hot."
He believed him this time.
Their impromptu photo shoot continued. Eric was compelled to get a few shots in
and somewhere along the way Kyle lost his pants. It was a win-win when Eric's
shyness evaporated the longer they spent trying to outdo the other on their
photography skills. He won by a margin because he was more determined and he
can't help but be in awe by how good Kyle looked with a devilish smile and the
cock of his nude hips for the camera.
"Hmm…" Kyle's lips brushed along his shoulder while they examined the latest
'masterpiece'. "That's a really good one."
"It is," Eric admitted. He stared at it a bit longer than necessary because
Kyle suddenly scoffed and pulled Eric's chin to the side for a sharp kiss.
"You're not jealous of your own picture, are you?" Eric's laugh was breathless
in between their kisses.
"Come off it, dude," Kyle deflected and the harsh movement of their lips turned
slow and lazy. Eric melted into a puddle of nothing. The phone dropped from his
fingers, but it bounced harmlessly onto his backpack, absolutely forgotten.
"I like you like this," Kyle suddenly said, pulling away.
Eric was unable to process the words, lost as he was in the sensual haze. He
shook his head a bit to clear his thoughts. "Wha-?"
"This," he repeated and when Eric couldn't help but reach out for him, he
smirked and let him run his hands up his firm stomach and chest. "You know what
you want, Eric," Kyle purred under his touch. "Don't be afraid to take it. It's
yours."
He should remember this. Kyle was trying to tell him something in that speech-
y kind of way. There's a twisted moral he should take to heart, but he couldn't
rub two brain cells together when they were rubbing and indulging themselves
like this.
They move their playtime to the showers. Eric couldn't stop complaining about
Kyle's spit all over him and their phones weren't waterproofed.
His complaints die on his throat the moment his cock disappeared straight down
Kyle's throat under the hot spray of water. He decided Kyle could take all the
pictures he wanted of him and post it to Facebook for all he cared.
===============================================================================
Eric didn't know what Kyle did with those pictures, but he never posted it to
Facebook like he threatened he would. 
His thumb slid across the screen of his phone, taking in one naughty picture of
Kyle after another. They don't end up on an social media site either. Eric
didn't want the world to know how beautiful Kyle was without clothes.
He had to slog through all the missed phone calls and text notifications to get
there, but he couldn't help but feel loved when Kyle shouted at him through
voicemail.
[You cheeky fucker. Talking to me like that? Answer your texts, dammit!]
[I'm going to burn your house down if you don't fucking text back.]
[Cartman! Answer the fucking phone or I'm going to slowly kill you and preserve
you in a glass box!]
Each message was more desperate than the last. Kyle might as well have sent him
chocolates and flowers. There was a message from Stan promising hell and Eric
took that a bit more seriously. He wasn't sleeping with Stan, thank god, but
that meant he didn't know whether he was safe from the boy's threats or not.
Kyle might just let Stan visit in the night with Molotov cocktails just to get
his message across.
There were a few texts from Kenny, but half of it was indecipherable. It
sounded like he was drunk again, but the overall gist of the message was pretty
clear. Kyle is livid and he even sent Kenny after his ass.
He was so lost in the haze of demented love he almost missed his mother
knocking on his door.
It was time to go to the Airport Hilton again, but this time Eric wasn't as
keen to go.
***** The Seventh Night of Hanukkah (Part 1) *****
Eric's heart dropped straight to his gut at Kenny's latest picture posted on
his wall.
[chek dis shit out! my boy aint afraid of yor shit north park! rumble fuckers
#northpark sux ass #fuk u #territoryscrub]
Another territory scrub so close to Christmas? Eric clutched his phone so hard
his knuckles turned white. Kyle was sneering at the camera while Stan was
preoccupied stitching along his upper arm and shoulder. It looked like he had a
close call with a machete.
Eric abandoned his pride and bolted out of the house. He wasn't surprised to
find every entrance on Kyle's lawn was manned by gingers with firearms.
Hesitation wasn't even on his mind when he ended up staring down the barrel of
a semi-automatic.
"Let me in!" Eric gasped heavily. "I need to see Kyle!"
The female ginger wasn't swayed, but she sized him up anyways.
"I think it's okay," the other ginger said in a short, stout voice. "It's Eric
Cartman. He's a bitch."
"Fuck you!" he snapped, then covered his own mouth in horror. A loud,
frustrated groan seeped out of his chilled fingers before he shoved his way
into the Broflovski residence.
There were more of these unholy gingers inside taking point in the living room
and kitchen. He warily took note of their soulless gazes when he climbed up the
stairs. The hallway on the second floor was blissfully free of bodyguards.
It was because Kyle valued his privacy - even at the cost of security.
The hallway bathroom light was turned on and he found the door ajar. He could
hear Stan and Kenny's voice echo when he peeked his head through. He winced at
the sight of blood all over the floor, the sink, and along the rim of the
built-in bathtub where his lover was sitting on without a shirt.
Eric grew ill at the sight of gore, but he didn't hesitate a moment to step
forward. Stan was sitting on the toilet at a weird angle trying to stitch up
the gaping wound on Kyle's shoulder. Kenny blinked at Eric from his perch on
the edge of the sink, his phone up to take another picture of Kyle.
"Hey, bitch!" Kenny greeted cheerfully. He switched subjects and pointed his
phone at Eric's face. "Looks like you checked your Facebook. Fucking sweet,
right?"
"Sweet?! There's nothing sweet about this!" Eric cried out. He fell to his
knees before Kyle and took his hands. "Kyle… you need to go to the doctor!"
Kyle's response was chilly. "Fuck. That." Stan wasn't using any kind of
anesthesia, but they were using the old fashioned method. There was a half-
drunk bottle of expensive whiskey by Kyle's feet. 
Eric felt lost and useless by his answer. "Then let me stitch you up at least.
Stan's doing a shitty job of it!" Stan sat the needle down and patted
threateningly at the butt of his rifle along his lap.
"Did… did you just curse?" Kyle questioned, green eyes bright and unsettling
from the booze. Eric tried to cover his mouth again for his unnatural swearing,
but he wanted to prove that it was less important than his lover's health.
Determined, Eric's lips narrowed into a thin line and they maintained steady
eye contact. Kenny tilted his head in confusion.
"Get off, Stan," Kyle commanded and, with a glare, Stan reluctantly
obeyed. Eric was better at stitching anyways and they all knew it. It helped
that he had to practice a lot thanks to them ruining his stuffed animals when
they were younger. His poor Clyde Frog looked like Frankenstein. 
Kyle got into a lot of territory disputes in South Park; the least Eric could
do when he was incapable of fighting was to be their cheap ass medic.
Stan moved out of the way for Eric and with another command, him and Kenny were
ordered out of the bathroom. Three was a crowd enough. Four was overkill.
Eric gently undid Stan's uneven stitching. The blood and pierced flesh made him
sick to his stomach. He picked up a new sterilized needle and threaded it with
a proficiency that actually made Kyle sigh with relief.
At his coaxing, Kyle held his newly open and bleeding wound tight and his
shoulders relaxed under Eric's expert fingers. It reminded Eric of the first
time they've done this shit - the fighter and the medic - all those years ago.
===============================================================================
Eric was the last of the four of them to turn thirteen. It was perfect because
it was so close to the Christmas season. It was actually Kenny's idea that they
waited until they were all of age so tonight was a pretty big deal.
Thirteen was the legal age limit to break curfew. It was a rite of passage to
wreak havoc and expend all that teenage angst and drama. 
He didn't want to go, but Kyle was going, and he was too fearful of his
friends' safety to sit around at home and pray they'll still be around in the
morning.
His current relationship with Kyle was little more than kisses these days.
They've graduated to groping, but it was obvious Kyle craved something more the
speed of Kenny's, who already lost his virginity and wielded this like a
weapon. Eric oftentimes got ill of the sexual brags Kenny liked to boast about
the last few months.
Kyle must have sensed Eric's hesitation about sex, so he didn't bring it up,
and it left Eric unsure if this was a good or bad thing. He didn't want to lose
Kyle because he was a prude. It was quite clear that, if Kyle had been
determined enough, he could have gotten Eric to do anything he wanted with a
few choice words.
But Kyle hadn't pressed the issue. Maybe he seriously respected Eric's feelings
on the matter. They were just… too young, even with the positive peer pressure.
He told Kyle this and was rewarded with a roll of his eyes and a shrug.
Whatever, Kyle had said.
This was the second reason why he had black clothes on and continually bumped
shoulders with Kyle and Stan in the back of Uncle Jimbo's truck. If he couldn't
put out, he might as well be useful, though he wasn't sure how useful he could
be with purges. He didn't want to hurt anyone or break anything which was the
whole point of the exercise.
Kyle pointed this out just as Kenny finished chattering on about all the shit
he was gonna steal in North Park. "What are you even doing here, Cartman?" he
asked seriously. "This is like the opposite of your Friday nights."
"Yeah," Stan agreed maliciously. He punched Eric in the arm to make him flinch.
Kyle shot a sharp glare at him when Eric whimpered in pain, but he ignored it.
"You're just gonna slow us down, fatso."
"Don't fucking touch him, Stan," Kyle hissed. "That's my job."
Stan leaned over them to taunt, "No, your job is to blow him. My job is to
toughen him up."
"Your job is to shut the fuck up. You don't see me punching Wendy in the tits.
And believe me, she needs a good punch in the tits." 
"I'll punchyou in the tits!" Stan spat out with a grin.

Kyle opened his arms out at him threateningly. "Come get some, ku fartzer!"
Kenny laughed when Stan tackled Kyle and they ended up gut punching each other
until Jimbo banged through the window and told them to settle down. 
Eric rubbed at his arm and pouted at them, glad at least the heavy outfit
helped buffer the whistling winter air. He wished they used Kyle's family van
instead for this. "I… I can purge too!" he said lamely and intentionally
avoided their looks of disbelief. "I won't slow you down."
"Yes you will," Kyle replied and he sounded so sure of this, Eric tried not to
tear up in embarrassment. He was right though. Eric was completely useless in
this kind of scenario. The best thing he could do was get everyone killed.
The truck came to a stop in a dark, unfamiliar neighborhood. All the
streetlights were out save for the truck's high beams. Eric kind of wanted to
curl into a corner and hide.
When Uncle Jimbo thumped at the side for their attention, Stan and Kenny wasted
no time hopping out of the vehicle. He unveiled the tarp beneath their feet and
Eric's eyes literally bulged out at the sophisticated weaponry on the bed of
the truck. Surely Uncle Jimbo didn't think they could use army-grade gear-
"I call dibs on the bazooka!" Kenny proclaimed loudly, but he was skinny as
hell so he nearly fell over pulling out the large weapon out of the truck bed.
Stan shoved Kenny's face roughly aside. With a loud 'oof', Kenny landed in the
dirt on the side of the road. "Fuck off, assmunch. The bazooka's mine!"
"Ah youth," Uncle Jimbo said proudly while his half-nephew and friend brawled
over the bazooka. "I remember my first purge. It was magical. Blew up an entire
orphanage, I did. Nuns and orphans just running around on fire! Like Christmas
lights!" While he reminisced, Kenny had ended up bouncing to his feet and
tackled Stan.
"Cool, dude!" Stan replied cheerfully under Kenny's headlock. Eric felt sick by
the story.
Kyle threw his arm out before Eric could pick out a weapon. "…Kyle?"
"Stay with the truck," his boyfriend ordered. "I don't want you with us."
The words cut Eric deeply. His nervous expression crumpled under his camouflage
makeup. "But…"
"Do you want to be here? Seriously? Don't bullshit me, Eric."
He said his first name so softly, Eric couldn't help but look down and whisper,
"No." His head snapped up when Kyle climbed out of the truck bed. "But I don't
want you to go! What if you get hurt?!" he demanded meekly. "I want to be with
you."
Kyle's expression was almost unreadable thanks to the low lighting. Eric
squeezed his eyes shut to wait for the blow when Kyle raised a hand at him. He
flinched when a leather brushed against his cheek so gently. "Kyle…"
Eric opened his eyes the moment Kyle swiped his bottom lip with his thumb and
leaned over for a kiss. A tiny keening whimper left him before that too was
swallowed up by Kyle's dauntless mouth. He'd rather do this instead tonight -
just him, Kyle, and a couch with some horror movie playing in the background.
The only death was beyond the TV screen and even that was ignored in favor of
rough kisses and gentle caresses.
He'd even… if Kyle wanted… if it meant they wouldn't be out here… he'd let Kyle
do whatever he wanted.
Stan loudly gagged while Kenny cheered them on. Kyle raised his middle finger
at them when they parted with a satisfying smack.
"Stay here," he warned Eric again and it was so soft, he knew it was meant for
his ears only. "I can't concentrate when I have to deal with your tubby ass."
He had a very good point. No one was going to risk ambushing a truck full of
weapons with Jimbo and Ned there. Eric would be perfectly safe under their
protection, but he still didn't like it. "Just don't go crazy, okay?" he
pleaded. "Be safe."
"Don't underestimate me," Kyle said shortly, but he flashed him a quick wink.
Shouldering a rifle, Kyle jumped off the truck bed in his new combat boots. He
was so handsome under his leather jacket and baseball cap it literally took
Eric's breath away.
But in the end, he was left behind with Uncle Jimbo and Ned. Kyle and the
others eagerly disappeared over the brick walls and gates through the
residential lots like rats scurrying through the sewer. Eric had a shitload of
guns beneath him, but he didn't feel anymore protected with Kyle not here.
As the hour slowly ticked by, the lullaby of death and property damage filled
the chill winter air, and Eric couldn't help but curl protectively into his
hoodie when he heard shouts of a struggle. His head popped out over the truck
bed when fireworks suddenly went off not too far away in the distance.
"Whoooooo doggy!" Uncle Jimbo swore happily through his binoculars. "Looks like
Stanny boy managed to break into the fireworks factory down on Main Street!"
Ned was in the midst of checking the map on the hood before phoning coordinates
in to the boys.
Eric disobeyed his boyfriend's command and climbed out of the truck. He needed
to make sure everything was okay.
Ned looked up from his walkie-talkie. "One - casualty." Eric's heart dropped
straight into his stomach. He snatched the walkie-talkie from the man's hands
and desperately called into it.
"Kyle? Kyle!" There was a range of static before he got an answer, but it
wasn't Kyle. Stan's voice went in and out.
"Fuck…ers!" Stan hissed through the receiver. "I'll kill…!" Static replaced
whatever Stan was trying to shout down. The receiver trembled in Eric's hand
before he shoved it back to Ned. He immediately fished out the military-grade
medical kit and a weapon he was familiar with.
Jimbo whistled at his choice. "Woo… a Kel-Tec PF-9? You sure you don't want
something with a little more kick, Eric?"
"I'm just taking it for protection!" Eric shot over his shoulder. "Where's the
fireworks factory?!"
He had never ventured like this, but his fear of losing Kyle overrode
everything else - even the risk of coming across the North Park purge gangs
that frequented the area. The fireworks factory was in flames and there were
glass and debris littered all over the adjacent street.
Every once in awhile there was a high pitched whistling sound and Eric had
trouble differentiating between a firework and gunshots. There was a standoff
further down the road, but he recognized Stan's hat peeking out from behind an
abandoned car.
Eric had to slide in between cars to avoid opposing gunfire, but it looked like
his friends had 'accidentally' stumbled onto a purge gang's turf. Now Stan was
pinned and Kyle and Kenny were nowhere to be found.
"Stan!" Eric shouted. "Where's Kyle and Kenny?"
"Wha…?" Stan finished unloading his magazine over the roof of the car and then
cringed at him. "Oh fuck me. A telephone pole would have been better backup!"
"Where's Kyle?!" he screeched.
Stan grit his teeth and slid down against the side while bullets shot through
the last intact window. "I don't know, dude! But Kenny's wasted! Fucker got
caught in the explosion!"
It was fine. Kenny always came back to life the next day. He was the only one
who knew this. But Kyle wouldn't come back the same way. He couldn't.
When Stan ran out of ammo, Eric handed over his gun. Stan gave his medkit a
long deliberate look before returning fire again. "Kyle's somewhere!" he
promised harshly. "He took point so I can cover the area! Those motherfuckers
jumped us breaking into a jewelry store. Fucking turf heads!"
Eric wasn't going to get any answers with Stan caged and aggressive like this
so he followed where Stan had pointed at and thought he saw a familiar gloved
hand resting on the ground behind another car. He bolted without care of the
gunfire zipping dangerously close over his head and nearly choked back a sob
when he found Kyle resting against the fender and clutching at the side of his
face.
There was so much blood. It sank into thick texture of Kyle's gloves, down his
chin and disappeared into his black jacket. Huffing and delirious with
adrenaline, Eric got down on his knees and tried to shake him awake. "Kyle?
Kyle!"
Kyle's response was raspy and thick. "…not so… loud… fucker." He repeated
Stan's name in a survivor's mantra when Eric plunged into the medkit for
something - anything to help him out.
"I'm not Stan," Eric corrected and grabbed Kyle's shoulders. "Kyle… it's Eric.
I'm here!"
Those unseeing green eyes fluttered in and out as the information sank in. "C-
Cartman?" He dropped his hand and Eric almost gagged at the sight. It looked
like someone stuck a meat cleaver across Kyle's forehead trying to lob the top
of his head off. The long jagged cut was still bleeding and Eric instinctively
reached out to staunch it.
"It's gonna be okay!" Eric howled. "I'm gonna take care of you!" He hated the
sight of gore, but he would wholly wade through a vat of blood and guts for
Kyle. He knew this the moment he threw open the medkit and dug through dirty
blood and torn skin just to sew the wound closed. It wasn't as professional or
as clean as Eric would like it to be, but they were literally in the middle of
a war zone and the best he could do was make sure the bleeding stopped long
enough to get Kyle to a hospital.
Once he was properly bandaged, Kyle wasted no time trying to get to his feet.
"Do you have a weapon on you?"
"I gave it to Stan-" Eric tried to explain, but he was suddenly yanked by the
hand and brought close.
"Give me your phone."
"W-what happened to yours?"
Kyle gave him a very ugly, but self-deprecating sneer. "Some fucking kid looted
me."
It was better than the alternative - like killing him - but Eric didn't think
Kyle was in the mood to discuss his luck. He begrudgingly took the tire iron
they picked up among the wreckage while Kyle called Stan using his cell phone.
There was something oddly sensual in the way Kyle held himself despite looking
like a bloodied wreck. He could be on his last pint of blood and still look
like he was in charge.
Eric thought it was awe-inspiring and yeah, maybe a bit of a turn on.
Kenny was an unfortunate loss, but only Eric was aware that he'd be back the
next morning. In the meantime, Kyle still had that vengeful sneer over the lost
of his comrade, and Eric knew that if they didn't manage to save Stan, Kyle was
going to make sure North Park would be entirely burnt down come morning.
Fortunately for North Park, they did manage to collect Stan, who pulled a sweet
kill count with just Eric's pitiful handgun. His love for small weapons was
born that day - all thanks to South Park's resident sweetheart.
While they made a hasty retreat back into the residential district, they came
across a few looters making off with laptops and food across a Costco parking
lot.
Kyle grabbed Stan's gun and shot one of them point-blank in the back. The
looter fell face first into the asphalt and his bag of stolen items scattered
all over.
"Shtik drek!" Kyle spat blood and saliva at the corpse.
"Holy shit, you got 'em!" Stan said in awe.
"Got who? Why did you…?" Eric was ready to question why Kyle singled this
particular guy out until Kyle ordered Stan to loot the corpse.
He came up with cash and Kyle's stolen cell phone.
"Oh." Eric hadn't been kidding. Kyle could really hold a grudge if he wanted
to. He tried to ignore the way Kyle licked away the blood from his teeth in
lewd satisfaction.
It was supposed to disgust Eric. It didn't and he was ashamed of it. Kyle hung
his arm around Eric's thick shoulders for support and all the shame disappeared
the moment Eric pressed comfortably against his boyfriend's side. Kyle was
safe. He was fine.
When they got home, Kyle refused a trip to the hospital. Instead, Mr.
Broflovski handed him a bottle of sacramental wine and told Eric to do the
stitching himself. If he fucked it up, he was gonna end up hung on a cross the
same way they did to his Christian prophet.
Eric learned how to keep the stitches small with Sheila overseeing his work. It
was the first time he had ever spent quality time with Kyle's parents. They
didn't bother them about their relationship since then, but Eric was still sure
they didn't approve of his pacifism.
Kyle never cried or complained about the stitching. And when he was done, he
studied his reflection in the mirror and wordlessly praised Eric's handiwork
with a sound kiss. "Looks like you've got a use for these nights after all," he
murmured.
They don't go on the nightly purges as much as the others did, but Kyle never
went without Eric by his side.
===============================================================================
This time, Kyle did. He went on a purge without Eric. His steady fingers
started to tremble with the last of the stitches. It hurt. It really fucking
hurt.
"Why didn't you tell me you were out purging?" he asked softly. "I could've…"
"What the fuck could you do?" Kyle snarled and then hissed when Eric dressed up
the stitches. "You're doing your gay telethon, remember? Like you give a shit
anyways…"
"If I knew you were going to do this shit, I would've…!" Eric trailed off,
suddenly unsure. What would he had done? He couldn't have joined them. The
veterans needed his support. No one else would. They needed -
"Heidi was there," Kyle said with a hint of something that somehow made Eric's
blood boil. "I was laying in my own blood and she held me."
"You're… you're trying to get a rise out of me," Eric replied sadly and looked
down. He didn't want to imagine that happening. He didn't want to believe. 
But giving in and ignoring people out there who were much more unfortunate and
in need of help would be losing this thing they seemed to be competing in. Kyle
was turning this into a war of attrition and it just wasn't fair.
The more Eric played, the more his achievements so far lost its inherent
goodness. Once he started doing this out of pride, that was it. Then this whole
struggle was for nothing.
Something gave the moment Eric pressed his lips against the gauze, his blue
eyes flickering upwards in a gesture of apology. "I don't want to fight over
this," Eric breathed. "I've missed you, Kyle."
As he expected, Kyle's cold expression shifted into something more desirable.
His fingers slid from the corner of Eric's lips as they kissed and tangled into
his short brown hair. He flexed his grip and pulled Eric's hair back to expose
that pale throat - a silent offering of submission and true remorse.
"You're such a pussy, Eric," Kyle slurred out in a drunken purr. "But I love
it. I wanna lock you up in my room and never let you out. Make you feel good
every night so you never want to leave."
The words brought Eric's cock twitching through his jeans. "Oh…" he mewed
before he was swept up in rough lips and the slide of Kyle's hot tongue. Eric
opened up to the invasion with ease. He tasted whiskey and peppermints and
something else that was entirely Kyle. It was like returning home for the first
time in years.
He missed this. God, did he miss this.
His knees hurt from kneeling on the tiled floor and he whined when Kyle pulled
him forward. "K-kyle…"
"Hmm…" With his other hand, Kyle slid down Eric's shirt, making note to squeeze
and rub his plump flesh every step of the way. He tugged the edge of it hard
and Eric shook from anticipation and the chill of the bathroom when Kyle pulled
off his shirt and tossed it into the blood-soaked tub.
Eric folded his arms over his chest. Goosebumps ran across his skin, but it had
little to do with the chill. Kyle leaned back and watched him like some kind of
predator, his green eyes promising to kill and devour him whole.
"My room," Kyle decided and it was hoarse enough for Eric to quickly submit.
There was nothing that was going to stop Kyle from getting what he wanted. "I'm
going to fuck you so hard, you won't be moving for days. And you're going to
take it. Aren't you?"
His cock strained against his denim. "Y… yes…" Eric couldn't help but whisper.
"I need you." They were magic words. He let out a soft cry when Kyle gripped
him through his jeans and squeezed, making his hips buck and his knees dig
harder into the tile. Unable to steady himself, Eric dipped forward and buried
his face into Kyle's shoulder, muffling his moans before it reverberated
through the bathroom.
Suddenly, the pressure on his dick lessened. He couldn't help but cry out with
frustration when Kyle pulled away and rocked them on the edge of the tub. "Be a
good boy…" Kyle urged with a sharp grin. "Bed. Now."
Eric quickly scrambled to his feet and sighed in relief for his poor abused
knees. He slunk over to the door, his head bowed and shoulders slumped in
submission while Kyle pulled himself up. He stumbled a bit and Eric started
forward, but held back at his lover's glare. 
They barely made it into the hallway. Once they connected through the door,
Kyle nearly barreled him against the wall for another searing kiss. Eric gasped
in pleasure when Kyle's hands slid down his ass and squeezed. "Guh…" he panted
out when Kyle's hard on pressed hard against his thigh.
"Yeah…" Kyle growled against his mouth. "That's it… open…" Eric parted his legs
at the command. "Just like that. Good…" He shoved himself between Eric's legs.
His eyes rolled back in pleasure.
They slowly rocked in a rough grind that short circuited every thought in
Eric's head. He gave into Kyle's assault and let those sharp teeth slice into
his bottom lip. Pain and pleasure clouded his senses, which only heightened
when Kyle found one of his nipples and pinched it. Eric let out a sharp cry
before that too was devoured by Kyle's mouth.
Kyle had just flicked open the button of Eric's jeans when they heard three
loud claps near the stairs. Flushing, Eric tried to turn away from Kenny's
wolfish grin, but a firm hand against his chest pinned hard to the wall. Kyle
finally stopped to shoot an annoyed look at Kenny.
"Occupied, McCormick," he drawled. His nose wrinkled when Eric tried to cover
himself, so he squeezed at his love handles. Eric let out a sharp bark of
laughter before mewling under Kyle's insistent mouth again.
Kenny spent a couple seconds admiring Kyle's exhibitionist streak before
speaking. "Those fuckers from North Park burned down the coffee house. Tweek's
parents are offering a fuckload of a bounty for their heads."
Eric started coming out of his haze, so Kyle ground into him again. He began to
pant like a bitch in heat when Kyle pinned him by the wrists and suckled at his
throat like Kenny wasn't even here to start with. It was so embarrassing to be
seen like this, but so goddamned thrilling.
Kyle wanted him. He wanted him so much he didn't care if anyone saw. It was an
establish of pure dominance and if it wasn't for Kyle's strong grip, Eric would
have already collapsed to the floor from his weak knees.
Those green eyes suddenly lit up at the prospect of cash. He pulled his teeth a
fraction away from Eric's throat. "Dead or alive?"
"It's an extra ten G's if we bring them in alive." Eric could see Kenny's
brilliant white teeth in the corner of his eye. "But it might be safer just
killing them. Tucker said he's seen them coming in from the town line a couple
hours ago."
Kyle stiffened and shared a look with Eric, who could only blink back in
confusion.
"Craig?" Eric whispered. They weren't exactly chummy with Craig's gang. More
often enough, Kyle would rally his gang for the local turf wars, but it never
went that far; maybe one or two casualties at the most. It was as friendly as
it got between them, but they still kept a stoic distance from one another.
For Craig to start feeding Kyle with information sounded troubling.
Kenny fished out his phone and casually ran his thumb through it. "Yeah man.
Fucking Craig, the asshole. And Stan thinks he's looking for a temporary
alliance - just long enough to kick these fuckers out of South Park."
"If that's the case, then it's war," Kyle said flatly, his tone business-like.
"Those kuckers are gonna regret fucking in my territory."
"You want me to text him?" Kenny dangled his phone.
"Text him? I expect you to call his ass," Kyle snapped. "Only trendy assholes
text over a turf war. We do this legit with respect."
Kenny opened his palms in surrender before dialing. "Okay, okay. Fucking
sheesh. Maybe you should get laid first. Sorry I interrupted."
With a resigned blink, Kyle let go of Eric and cupped his jaw in a rare display
of tenderness. Eric couldn't help but boldly lean forward and reassure his
lover with a smirk and a gentle kiss. He couldn't stop Kyle from fighting - he
couldn't - but he wished this didn't happen. 
But in this world, in this universe, that just wasn't the norm. It was kill or
be killed, fuck or be fucked. He savored every kiss and every press of skin
they shared and implored Kyle with his eyes and the downturn of his lips when
Kenny handed the phone over.
He could hear the phone ring against Kyle's ear, but Kyle was more preoccupied
glaring him down like he was the only important thing in the entire universe.
This was why Eric loved him - would always love him - no matter how much of a
monster Kyle would end up becoming at the end of this campaign.
The phone clicked and Craig's curt voice drifted through the speaker. Kyle
began to speak about alliances and the status of North Park's infiltration into
their sleepy mountain town, but Eric just couldn't seem to concentrate when
Kyle was so focused on him. In between pauses, Eric pressed more kisses along
Kyle's jaw, uncaring of Kenny's stare at this point.
He could never be the warrior Kyle wanted, but he could at least be the lover
he desired. Not Heidi or Rebecca or the other trophy girls who wanted a piece
of Kyle.
Kyle was his.
Without missing a beat, Kyle hung up on Craig and gave Eric a strange once
over. The mood had long since passed, but the look in Kyle's eyes felt a little
unsettling.
"Kyle?"
"Are you going to the Airport Hilton again tonight?"
This again. Eric averted his eyes. "There's still tonight and tomorrow. I have
to." He screwed his eyes shut and waited for a harsh blow or an insult that
never came. When Eric opened one eye, he found that Kyle's expression hadn't
changed.
Suddenly, Eric found himself being steered into Kyle's room and pushed onto the
bed. The mattress creaked and bounced under his weight when Kyle locked the
door and climbed on top of him. "W-wha…?"
"I'm taking Kenny's advice," Kyle purred and ripped open his jeans. Eric was
too fixated on the trail of dark hair going down his navel and disappearing
under the waistband of Kyle's briefs. "I'm going to fuck you unconscious."
This was more than dirty pillow talk. Kyle literally fucked him until Eric was
an exhausted, ruined mess of limbs and sweat. There was no love or romance in
his touch. It was business, the means to an end. Still the pleasure was enough
to leave him a whimpering pile of nothing.
It was only when Eric woke up alone in Kyle's bed and his phone telling him
that it was almost seven at night did it dawn on him what just happened.
Kyle tried to stop him from continuing his telethon.
Eric scrambled out of bed, picked up his clothes and dashed out the door until
he realized he was missing a shirt. He ran back in and furiously dug through
Kyle's drawers for something that would fit him.
To his surprise, he found a very handsome grey hoodie in one of the plastic
bags that littered at the foot of Kyle's bed. It even fit him perfectly. He
didn't think much of it afterwards, lost as he was to get to the Airport
Hilton. He didn't even bother going home to explain himself to his mother about
missing curfew.
He hopped into her truck and drove through the darkness, unaware that he was
driving alone during a gigantic turf war that was about to start. When he hit a
red light he paused and found himself in a dilemma.
If he went to the Hilton, he wouldn't be there for Kyle and the others. But
this was the seventh night of Hanukkah and one day closer to complete anarchy
for the season. If anyone needed help now in the bloodthirsty festivities, it
would definitely be the many homeless vets out there that were easy pickings
for terrorizing.
Eric gripped the steering wheel hard. Who the fuck was he kidding?
Just when the light turned green, he noticed a flutter of brown hair across the
street and down near the church. Eric curiously leaned forward and watched as
Heidi suspiciously looked around before following a strange boy down the block
toward the woods.
His gut warned him of something. They were supposed to be rivals for Kyle's
affection, but Eric didn't want to see her hurt. He quickly changed lanes and
turned off his lights and followed them to the edge of sidewalk towards Stark's
Pond.
Eric parked his car in the lone parking lot at the empty police station and
fished for his baseball bat in the trunk before he lost them. His grip on the
bat trembled. He didn't want there to be an altercation.
But he'd be a grade A moron to go without protection now.
***** The Seventh Night of Hanukkah (Part 2) *****
A light cascade of snow started to come down. It was almost scenic in a dark
and dreary kind of way. Stark's Pond was completely frozen over, but no one was
ice skating or occupying the area tonight.
Every kid in South Park got the invitation for the North/South brawl going down
outside Kenny's house. It was an open full-scale breeding ground where everyone
can crowd in and massacre each other while the cops idly stood by and made bets
on who would die tonight. It was disgusting and horrible and Eric didn't want
to imagine his friends being there right now with chains and guns and the
entire student body at their beck and call.
So why wasn't Heidi over there cheering her 'man' on? Eric followed them far
enough to go undetected and, every time they stopped to look around, Eric would
hide behind a tree or something.
This time, he crouched down behind a large stone trash can near a bench when
Heidi turned and pulled out her phone.
"I think Middle Park got lost in the woods," she whispered. "Which is so
buttfucking stupid because North Park got here faster than them!"
The unfamiliar boy smiled beneath his baseball cap. "Don't worry about it. By
the time Middle Park gets here, South Park's numbers are gonna be thinned down.
Then we'll spring them from behind and wipe them out. They're gonna wish they
didn't fuck with us."
Eric grit his teeth and started to fish out his phone. He was in the midst of
sending out a mass text to everyone he conceivably had on his contact list when
something else they said caused him to still.
"I want Kyle," Heidi breathed. "You leave him breathing, Ron. That's the deal."
Ron scoffed. "It would be a hell of a lot better if he's dead. I wanna put his
kike head on a pike and use it as a flag."
"Well that's not gonna happen, asshole! I wasn't gonna sell out half the school
if it meant you weren't gonna hold up your end of the deal!" she hissed.
"What's your fucking damage? Find another dick to hound on."
Heidi's eyes darkened and her smile turned unhinged. "I just don't want my kid
to grow up without a father."
"What?"
Eric's blood ran cold.
"I'm pregnant," she replied eagerly. "My parents can't afford the security
system anymore. We'll be ruined without it. But the Broflovski's? They're
fucking rich. Can you imagine the child support with their income? Kyle might
even have to marry me. I'll be at the top of the food chain and you'll get your
fucking turf or whatever stupid male shit you gotta do."
Heidi was pregnant. She was pregnant with Kyle's child. She was pregnant and
she was going to kill all of his friends for a shot at the social ladder.
Eric began to tremble. She was going to use her body to ruin Kyle's life. The
unwanted child would be her ultimate insurance policy.
What was worse was that he didn't care about the lives about to be lost down at
Kenny's or the state of the town. He only thought about Kyle betraying him and
sleeping with Heidi while they buried their friends and comrades. He thought
about her swelling stomach and the look the Broflovski's would share before
agreeing to a dowry.
He thought about Kyle unwittingly duped into marrying her and raising a child
born out of power instead of love. He thought about Kyle leaving him for Heidi
because of it.
Kyle would leave him.
He would leave him.
Something snapped in Eric that moment. The black mass that had been churning in
his stomach was now leeching into every limb of his body like a disease. It
slipped up his spinal cord and straight into his brain. It flipped the switch
long since buried in his mind - triggering a dark part of him that finally
belonged to this decaying universe.
Pupils blown, Cartman waited until their backs were fully turned and silently
stood up. All he could think about was Kyle. Kyle. Kylekylekyle~
It wasn't Kyle's fault Heidi got pregnant. That was what his fucked up head
believed. Kyle was perfect. This was all Heidi's fault. She wanted him to
suffer. She was in the way.
The bat carried behind his back felt like a beacon, the answer to all of his
problems. It was his salvation.
Fuck the charity drive. Fuck good will. Fuck Christmas. This bitch wanted to
baby trap his man. She wasn't going to get away with it.
He casually caught up to them until they noticed. Ron stiffened at his large
presence and moved to pull out his blade, but Heidi stopped him with a hand.
"It's just Eric Cartman. He's harmless," she said before offering Cartman a
friendly smile. It was so adorable, so unassuming, his blood completely boiled
over. "Hey, Eric. Isn't your telethon on tonight?"
"There's been a change of plans," Cartman said sweetly. "Would you like some
Christmas cheer?"
They both shared a look.
"Um… not right now. We're kind of busy. You know, turf war and all," she
replied.
Cartman took a pleasant step forward. "Now, now, it's the holidays! How about a
song? I've been told my voice knocks people clean off their feet. It's quite
amazing."
Ron lost his patience when Cartman started humming out the festive tune. "For
fuck's sake, no! Now beat it asshole!"
When the boy turned towards the woods, Cartman pulled out the bat from behind
and swung it as hard he could at Ron's skull. Heidi screamed when bat connected
with a sickening crack and the boy crumpled onto snow pile. Spurts of blood
sprinkled white.
"It's the most wonderful time of the year~" Cartman sang out with a psychotic
grin. Heidi cowered as he advanced towards her, his bat dragging along the
sidewalk in tune to his singing.
"I told you my singing would knock you off your feet."
She doubled over when he banged her right in the stomach. Then the bat came
down over her head. Heidi let out a broken cry as her head made a sickening
smack sound on the slick sidewalk.
Her screams through the chilled air were beautiful.
Cartman stomped hard on her fingers when she tried to reach for her
switchblade. The strangled gasping sounds she made fluttered at his senses,
igniting for more. So stupid trying to arm herself now. Perhaps it was her
maternal instincts kicking in? Eric's lips pulled back into a snarl.
His first two victims lay sprawled before him. There was blood and items strewn
about and it was a picture he wanted to paint into memory. With a heartless
tilt of his head, he pushed down on her fingers until they were raw and
bleeding into the asphalt.
"Can you hear me, Heidi?" he whispered. "I bet you can. Look at you. Look at
your pretty face." When the bat came down sharply on her face again, she
flipped to her side and whimpered. "Oh my. Well… when you had a pretty face."
When she didn't respond, he seized a handful of her hair and pulled. She let
out a gurgle and blood was pooling out of her torn lips. One of her eyes were
swollen shut and her nose was at an unfortunate angle. "Aren't you fucking
ugly," he laughed hollowly. "Do you think Kyle would want your ghetto ass now?
Don't you think that's funny, Heidi? Huh?! Where's your HOLIDAY SPIRIT~?!"
The boy he clobbered over hadn't stirred from his faceplant into the snow.
Perhaps he was dead. Cartman spared little thought for him.
Heidi was oh so much more important. Wasn't she pregnant now? Cartman's fingers
tingled when he picked up her discarded switchblade. His empty blue eyes
drifted to her curled form and the creature in her stomach. He didn't see any
bump, but maybe it was the angle.
The thought of her carrying Kyle's child literally made him sick. Sick enough
that it was his divine right to intervene. She didn't have the right. It wasn't
in the plan.
He dropped her onto her back. With a press of his thumb, the blade slid out of
its sheath with a clean pop. It glittered under the glow of the moonlight. The
way he was casually humming Christmas music under his breath he might as well
have been baking cookies.
"Shh~ this might hurt a tiny bit, Heidi." Cartman consoled her shuddering form
with a gentle hand. He wanted to see if Kyle's child was as evil as she was on
the inside. Maybe she too had black stuff within her. Maybe, if he tore it
completely out, it would slake his thirst for blood.
Just as he started cutting through her flattering coat his phone vibrated in
his pocket. He let the tip dance across her bare stomach for a moment before he
fished the phone with his free hand.
"Cartman?" Kyle's voice drifted into his ear like a calming balm.
Cartman sighed happily. "Hi, Kahl~"
"You sent a text earlier. Everyone and their grandma got it. How the fuck did
you know about Middle Park?"
"Don't worry about it, babe." He kissed the receiver loud enough for Kyle to
hear. "I'm taking care of everything." His gaze drifted to her bloodied face
and the way Heidi was trying to breathe through a broken nose.
The call fell silent. "You're not at home are you?"
"Nope," Cartman said serenely. "Just… having a pleasant stroll with Heidi. She
said a lot of things to me. We're super close~"
"Where are you?"
"Don't worry about it, Kyle. You just go and kick some ass."
"Cartman, what the fu-"The call clicked to an end.
With a deep sigh, Cartman rested his arms on his knees and gave Heidi a good
once over. Was she still alive? Her chest was still rising, but not for long.
He fucked her up pretty good. Her and her little traitorous friend. Power and
control coiled through him like he was on a high. It felt so good, he could
cry.
Man, he could use a cigarette or something.
That was when an idea hit him. He looked over his shoulder where the truck was
still parked.
"Mmm… wouldn't it be so nice if we can do some good for the world~?" he sang to
Heidi before dusting himself off. Cartman cupped his ear when she gurgled
nonsensically. "What was that? You want to make amends and help me? Wow, you're
so sweet and kewl, Heidi." His blue eyes glittered in the moonlight. "I'm sure
you'll make a great mom. Maybe."
The set up didn't take long. He drove his truck up to the edge of the woods and
then dragged them away before anyone caught wind of two bodies near the church.
With a bit of rope, he tied both of them to a pair of trees and marveled at his
handiwork.
"There we gooo~" Cartman said with thick pride. In front of them was a tripod
and a camera rigged to his laptop - all of which were supposed to be used for
his telethon. The truck's high beams bathed the entire area in light. It wasn't
the sweetest set up, but it was all just so last minute…
This would just have to do.
He cupped Heidi's jaw and lightly patted at the black bruises blossoming across
her cheekbone. "Tsk, tsk, Heidi! Look at you! We're going live in five minutes
and you haven't put on any make up!" Cartman dramatically sighed and let go,
enjoying the way her head drooped forward. "We'll just have to make due with
your glowing personality. Remember Heidi, do it for the vets!"
Already the viewers were pouring in with anticipation. Cartman eagerly checked
his laptop. The chatroom was already full with people bitching and moaning… and
why shouldn't they? His post on Facebook got so many likes.
He told everyone to tune into his livestream and find out who turned over the
entire town of South Park to their rivals.
As his phone chimed for eight on the nose, Cartman turned on the camera. In
five, four, three, two…
From his laptop, he can see himself on the stream, grinning for the audience.
"Good evening, South Park!" he greeted with a sly grin. "And welcome to our
annual telethon! We're depending on your donations for the homeless vets out
there, but who gives a shit at the moment? No, you're here for the dish aren't
ya? I don't know about you guys, but I'm fed up of backstabbing little weasels
fucking up this humble mountain town. Would you like to see the bitch who
ratted South Park out?" 
He moved out of the way for the camera so everyone could see Heidi and Ron
drawn up like animals. The stream literally froze for a few seconds due to the
explosion of bandwidth, so Cartman took the time to zoom in on Heidi when it
finally buffered.
"Heidi Turner, ladies and gentlemen!" he trilled. "Give this sneaky bitch a
round of applause!"
The chatroom zipped through with death threats and calls for her head. Cartman
obliged and roughly pulled her hair up so she could face the camera. She was
finally conscious, but just barely. Her eyes darted in panic at the camera.
"P-please…" she tried to say through her dislocated jaw, but Cartman dropped
her head again. Instead, he pulled out a wallet he fished out of Ron's pants
and started rifling it.
"And her lovely companion for tonight is North Park's own Ron Watkins! Oh my,
isn't this… why I believe it is. Isn't this Drake Watkins' younger brother? For
those in the audience unawares, Drake holds two-thirds of North Park's purge
gangs-" He held up two fingers for the camera. "In fact, he was supposed to
march at the McCormick territory tonight, wasn't he? Well, Drake, if you're
watching right now, here's why your little whistleblower didn't check in." He
picked up the bloodied bat and wiggled it for the camera. "Yeah… feels good,
brah. Ain't that a bitch?"
His phone started ringing again. The ringtone belonged to Kyle. He ignored it.
His lover really shouldn't try and kiss his ass now that he was oh so popular
with his telethons now. 
"Here's where we make this fun," Cartman continued with a bloodthirsty gleam in
his eyes. "See, I singlehandedly saved South Park from getting razed to the
ground. That's right me - Eric Cartman - your resident bitch."
He sneered. "You fuckers owe me. But then I thought, hey… I'm a nice guy. Fuck,
I'm the nicest guy in this entire fucking town! I should do nice things,
right?! So here's the deal. You assholes got the link to my kickstarter. Start
donating. The highest donation gets to decide how I take care of Turncoat Heidi
and Watkins. Sounds fair, right? Sounds Christmas-y? All the proceeds goes
straight to my donation drive. You too can help vets and maim traitors in one
fell swoop. Sounds pretty fucking sweet to me! You've got ten minutes to crack
open your piggy banks, so don't take long!"
The donations came pouring in faster than Cartman expected. Fifty bucks, a
hundred bucks, two-fifty - the police department actually threw in two grand
into the kickstarter when he last checked.
"Don't you just love giving in this time of year?" Cartman asked the camera. He
played with the bat a bit to pass the time. "Tick-tock! Oooh! Kevin Stoley just
put in a hundred bucks for a beheading! How topical! And look, Heidi! Your best
friend Annie put in a group donation with the other girls to get your tits cut
off for three-fifty! My, my, you sure are losing popularity points with the
cheerleader squad!" 
At the nine minute mark, Cartman pointed at the timer on the screen. "One
minute left! The Tweaks donated FIVE GRAND! Is that how much these lives are
worth? Apparently!" Watkins was a hot ticket on their bounty, even a family
member.
Ron hadn't moved since he tied him up. Cartman would have thought he was dead
if he hadn't kicked him until he stirred before blacking out again. Must be one
hell of a concussion.
"Three, two, one…" He dramatically threw down his wrist watch. "And time's up!
Well, holy shit. We raised four times the target goal! Krampus isn't gonna
invade South Park this year with all of you generous donators! And… oh my!
Looks like the Tweaks beat out South Park High's donation pool for a whopping
ten G's! Let's see their request, shall we?"
He read the terms aloud. "Heidi Turner must be scalped and gutted. Ron Watkins
must have his throat slit and dismembered. Hmm… not very creative, but I
suppose you can't slam the classics."
Cartman popped open the switchblade with a serene smile. "Are you ready to be
entertained, South Park?" he purred.
"CARTMAN!"  
The bright lights from Kyle's van bathed him from the side. Picking up the bat,
he straightened and swayed it in his palm when Kyle hopped out and scrutinized
the scene.
And when those green eyes widened, Cartman smiled indulgently. "Are you finally
treating my telethons seriously, Kahl?"
"Holy fucking shit." Kyle moved forward and stilled at the sight of Heidi and
Ron drawn up. "This… this is real? The livestream…" His breath hitched when the
thick end of Cartman's baseball bat slid under his chin and tilted his gaze
upwards.
Cartman didn't like how Kyle seemed to care so much. "I had to, Kahl… she was
gonna have your child. She can't have you." The chatroom was going crazy at the
live drama. He ignored it. 
Those beautiful green eyes flickered to the bat in Cartman's hand and then to
his face. "I never fucked her."
"And you never will," Cartman promised, then laughed and pointed at Heidi's
twisted mug with the bat. "Not with that face!"
Kyle snatched the bat from his hands and threw it aside. "You're stopping this.
Right now!" 
"Stop this? I've got twenty-five fucking G's that are going to the vets, Kahl!"
Cartman bellowed. "I earned this!"
"This is blood money!" he snarled back. "Is that how you want your good deeds
to end up? This isn't a charity drive, Cartman! It's a snuff film bet pool!
What the fuck happened to you?! Why are you like this?!"
Cartman got right up into Kyle's face with unhinged anger. "I'M FED UP, KAHL!
I'M SHOWING THE WHOLE FUCKING TOWN THAT YOU'RE MINE! NO ONE CAN HAVE YOU BUT
ME! I CAN KEEP UP! I CAN KILL TOO! I CAN KILL ANY BITCH WHO TRIES TO GET THEIR
HANDS ON YOU! I DESERVE TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU ON FACEBOOK!"
Kyle paled - seriously paled - at Cartman's outburst. "This wasn't I wanted!
Not from you. Not like this! You put an end to this stream right now!"
To his surprise, Cartman held the switchblade threateningly at him. "I'm gonna
finish this telethon, Kyle! I'm going to make my first kill for all of the
internet to see! Then I'll understand! Then I'll finally be to everyone's
level!"
He barely even blinked before Kyle suddenly pounced on him with a swiftness
befitting his paranoia. Cartman let out a strangled gasp when Kyle twisted his
armed hand in an unnatural angle and was suddenly gathered up into a desperate
embrace.
"No…" Kyle's breath burned into his shoulder. "Not like this. You don't want
this on your conscience, Eric. You don't! It fucking sucks, dude! Everyone in
this fucking town is shit, but you're still whole! You're still pure!"
"The fuck is your problem?" Cartman sneered. "I grew some fucking balls, Kahl!
That's what you wanted, isn't it?!"
"I DIDN'T WANT THIS!" Kyle pulled away and hysterically gestured to the bodies.
"You don't have to kill anyone to prove shit, Eric! I just wanted you to be
confident, not go fucking Mother Theresa on me!"
Before Cartman could scream back, Kyle slammed their lips together. He
struggled until he felt Kyle's tongue press against his teeth. With a sigh,
Cartman opened his mouth to the invasion, unable to deny Kyle anything. Even
now. 
"I wouldn't be with you if I didn't like the way you were." Kyle's lips felt
pleasant against his jaw. "I wasn't afraid to tell the world about us. You
were."
Kyle and his stupid, but beautiful gay speeches. The words struck a chord deep
within Cartman. It turned him inside out. The madness in his blue eyes began to
dim at his reassuring touch. 
"Stop it," Kyle begged when Eric refused to respond. "Just stop it. They're not
dead yet. I won't let them stain you. Do you hear me, Eric? Just stop."
His bloodlust crashed so hard from Kyle's words, Eric visibly flinched. Slowly,
his even breathing turned into tiny gasps once he realized what he had done. He
had attacked two people and nearly beat them to death. He sullied his own
charity drive in blind madness. 
Every soft press of Kyle's lips broke down the darkness that seethed within
him, chasing it back into the deep recesses of his mind where it belonged. Eric
suddenly sobbed and he clung to Kyle's jacket. He didn't want to see what he
had done - what he almost did made his legs weak.
"Kyle…" he whimpered. "What have I done…? The fuck did I do?!"
"It's okay." Kyle's voice was strong and reserved. Eric desperately clung to
the reassuring sound. "I'll take care of it."
The livestream was still going. Everyone and their grandma had just witnessed
the rise and breakdown of Eric Cartman. Kyle flashed a disdainful look at the
camera before reaching for it.
"Show's over," he snarled. With a press of a button, the livestream went dark.
***** The Eighth Night of Hanukkah *****
When Eric woke up, he was dressed down in his boxers and curled into a very
warm comforter. He opened his eyes a fraction and inhaled the furred texture.
It smelled like Kyle. Even the window placement was all wrong. This wasn't his
room.
Eric tilted his head up from the pillow and looked through the frosted glass.
Snow was coming down in full force today. He could even hear the wind howl
gently against the walls. Only an idiot with a death wish would want to venture
outside today.
Too exhausted and lazy to check his surroundings, he bundled the blanket up to
his chin and tried to sleep again. Eric had hoped - prayed - that everything
had been a bad dream. He didn't almost murder Heidi. Kyle didn't hate him.
Something shifted to his right. It was only when he turned did he discover that
he was in Kyle's room again.
His lover's breathing wasn't as labored like usual. A thrum of utter guilt hit
him hard. Kyle always fell into a deep sleep around him because he used to
trust Eric. Not anymore. Not from the way he had behaved last night. Kyle had
made it very clear on the ride back that he didn't know how he could 'fix' what
was wrong with him.
Eric grit his teeth hard and tried to suppress another sob. He ruined this.
Kyle's safe space was gone. It was all his fault.
When Eric tentatively reached out and brushed the bandage on Kyle's shoulder,
those green eyes instantly snapped open. That hurt more than anything else in
this world. His fears came to life. Kyle didn't trust him and there was nothing
he could do about it.
"I'm sorry…" Eric whimpered and pressed his lips against the wound. "You can't
sleep around me anymore. I'm so sorry, Kyle. I don't know what…"
"I guess that shit was going to happen sooner or later." Kyle's response was
hoarse. Maybe he slept a little deeper than he expected. Eric held onto a bit
of hope when Kyle's hand came up and slid down his arm. It wasn't much, but for
Kyle he might as well be shushing him and collecting him into his arms. "How do
you feel?"
"Bad. I've never felt so bad in my life." Eric slipped under Kyle's arm and
nuzzled his chest. "I don't want to remember it. But… I feel glad."
Kyle paused. "Glad?"
"I want to protect you, Kyle," Eric said softly. "That's why… that's why it
happened. I didn't want them to get away with it. I hurt them, Kyle. I'm… I'm
capable of doing it." He lifted his head up and peppered Kyle's lips with
kisses. "But I'd never hurt you. Never, Kyle. Never. I love you so much…"
"I know you do," Kyle replied before he flipped them over. His reciprocation
was to deepen the kiss and press Eric into the sheets until they were buried in
pillows and comforters. A soft sigh of pleasure left Eric's lips until Kyle
devoured it completely.
This was heaven. Pure, sinless heaven, and Eric didn't feel like he deserved
it. He was lost the moment Kyle sucked eagerly on his tongue, uncaring of
whatever morning breath they had.
Unlike last night, there was a kind of tenderness to Kyle's touch. It was soft
and forgiving and completely indulgent. Eric was left breathless and dizzied
when Kyle shifted between his legs and cocked his hips forward. It was a slow,
rhythmic grind that asked for no rush. Eric could literally count the exact
second where Kyle twitched to life against him as they rocked lazily together.
Kyle stopped and looked down at Eric's flushed cheeks and the shy part of his
lips with a relieved expression. "I was afraid I'd never see that again."
"S-see what?" Eric whispered, his voice cracking.
"This." Kyle's fingers slid down Eric's cheek and pressed down against his full
lips. "You. The innocence. It's beautiful, you know that?"
Eric swallowed hard. "But… you said I needed to get rid of that."
"No I didn't. You implied like you always do," Kyle hissed. "I said you needed
to straighten up and realize this world isn't kind to people like you."
"You're kind to me," Eric countered softly. Those green eyes widened when he
reached up and brushed the soft curls from the nape of Kyle's neck. "That's why
I still believe. You're my… unh… hah…!"
Kyle had suddenly bent forward and licked his nipple. Eric threw his head back
and let out a sharp cry when Kyle bit down and teased the other with a pinch of
his fingers.
"Is that thing inside you loyal to me?"
Eric blinked through the haze of pleasure in confusion. "W-what…?" His query
was lost along with his breath when Kyle grabbed his throat with both hands and
squeezed. Eric squirmed violently beneath his lover, his dick wilting from the
sudden violence. "K-Kyle…" he gasped.
His grip tightened until Eric nearly rolled his eyes back from the lack of
oxygen, his nails scraping down his wrists for release. Just as Kyle slowly
eased up from crushing his windpipe, Eric's hand suddenly shot up and dug his
nails hard into Kyle's wrist, his blue eyes sharp and wild.
Kyle peered inquisitively at the sudden change in his lover's personality.
Cartman gnashed his teeth at him.
"F-fuck…!" he hissed. "Lay off you fucking Jew!"
"So I wasn't wrong," Kyle said, his fingers relaxing as Eric's alternative
personality resurfaced. "You were the one who killed Heidi."
Cartman's chest heaved up and down for air, but he recovered by smiling
indulgently at him and licking his lips. "Uh… newsflash, Kahl. I didn't kill
anyone. I seem to remember you slitting their throats for me before tossing
them in the lake." Those dark blue eyes sized Kyle up and purred. "God, you're
amazing. And you did it so naturally. You're the man of my dreams."
Kyle's eyebrow quirked up. "Is that so?"
"Yeah…" he said dreamily. "I've been into you since forever, babe."
Kyle cut to the chase. "I woke this part of you up because you want me to trust
you again. Do you think I should now that you let out that Pandora's Box in
your head?"
"You'd be an idiot trusting anyone," Cartman answered thickly. There was
nothing better than polite conversation and an eyeful of Jewish meat. "But I'm
the exception. You're mine, Kahl."
"You've got that shit backwards," Kyle hissed. "You belong to me."
Cartman relaxed into the sheets with a pleased hum. "Then we've come to an
agreement, don't you think?" When Kyle sighed and sat up, Cartman raised
himself up on his elbows and stroked his firm, slender chest. "Still don't
trust me?"
"I trust Eric," Kyle corrected. "It's you that's ambiguous."
"You'll never have to worry about me," he whispered with a lewd swipe of his
tongue. "We're of one mind. Just a teeny-tiny bit fractured. I still want to be
a good boy for you."
"I'm going to tell you what I told Eric," Kyle began, ignoring the way Cartman
started to suckle at his throat. "I don't want you doing that shit again. If
there's a problem, you come to me. Do you hear me?"
"Crystal," Cartman purred against his throat. "You going to baby me, Kahl?
That's kind of hot. I've got my own sexy Jew boy at my beck and call. Mm… yeah.
I do like that…" His hands slipped lower until he had that kosher cock right in
the palm of his hands. He stroked once to gauge the way Kyle's eyes darkened,
but there was little reaction aside from that.
It sounded like a challenge. "I love you, Kahl~" he said in his sweetest tone.
As expected, Kyle's sharp features softened. He could use this to his
advantage.
Before he could, Kyle's eyes narrowed and he slammed their lips together in a
harsh kiss. Cartman moaned wantonly when Kyle shoved him hard back onto the
bed.
"I wonder…" Kyle tilted his head in a way that made Cartman actually tremble,
"if it's possible to put you two back together."
Cartman smirked nervously. "What?"
"They say trauma causes personalities to split," Kyle explained with a whisper.
"If I fuck you so hard, do you think that'll be enough?"
"Uh, if you actually think so, Dr. Broflovski. I personally don't think you can
literally fuck someone mentally back together," Cartman teased. "E for effort,
though."
"I don't think you understand how logic works around here," Kyle explained,
pushing Cartman's chest down so hard, he started to instinctively squirm.
"Everything can be solved with a good, thorough fucking. I'll snap you back
together if it's the last thing I do."
"Okay, seriously, you are NOT going to fuse me with that pussylicker," Cartman
hissed. He thrashed around when Kyle pinned his wrists firmly to the bed and
bit him so hard in the throat, he cried out in pain. "Ow! Knock it off,
asshole!"
"Yes. Yes I am," Kyle promised with a growl. He ground their hips down so hard,
Cartman's eyes widened and he let out a gasp too late, giving Kyle the prime
moment to stick his tongue down his throat. Kyle's teeth sunk into Cartman's
lips instead when the bigger boy gnashed his teeth closed too fast for his
tongue. "Open, Cartman," he warned, his nails digging deep into the bigger
boy's wrists. Cartman cried out in pain again. "And if you bite my tongue, I'll
tear off your beytsim."
Cartman snarled in response, so Kyle bit down so hard on his bottom lip it
started to bleed. He let out a howl from the pain. Kyle quickly sealed his
mouth over Cartman's, feasting on the blood and saliva against his tongue.
Cartman bitched and moaned beneath him, his hips squirming under his in a fit
for dominance.
"So uncooperative…" Kyle commented the moment he tore his mouth away. Blood and
saliva dripped down his chin and Cartman couldn't help but groan at the sight.
"That's the problem with people who had their first taste of violence. So
you've beat someone within an inch of their life - big whoop. You've got the
raw shit, but you've got a lot to learn dealing with a veteran." His gaze
steeled. "And I know how to get you on your hands and knees."
To his credit, Cartman struggled every inch of the way. Unfortunately for him,
Kyle's threat wasn't as empty as he thought. He exploited every inch of his
heavy lover, his fingers pressing into the seam of his groin and thigh, knowing
exactly where he could render Cartman docile as he tore off his boxers.
Before Cartman could even rub two brain cells together, Kyle had flipped him
onto his stomach and forced a dry digit inside of him. "G-guh… you
motherfucker…!" Cartman panted, his mouth sinking into the pillow as he
groaned.
"Hmm… I suppose Liane would be my type," Kyle responded with a crook of his
finger. Cartman nearly bumped his head right into the headboard when he jumped.
"Sweet and psychotic. Just like you. But don't worry. You're more than a
handful for me."
Cartman was still open and slick from yesterday's activities. Kyle wasted no
time adding a second finger to test how far he could go without lube. Cartman
thrashed and squeezed around his fingers, unaware that he was only heightening
Kyle's arousal by fighting. "Oh god…" Kyle decided with a breathless grin.
"Look at you squirm. Are youthat against my dick inside of you?"
A deep groan was his answer.
Kyle slid a third digit in and suddenly shoved them all the way to the knuckle,
feeling Cartman's thighs tremble in a mixture of pain and pleasure. As he
worked those muscles, he pressed his chest against Cartman's bare back and put
an end to the squirming once and for all. "That's enough of that," Kyle purred
and crooked his fingers hard against his prostate.
Cartman jerked forward into the pillows and whined. Not just any whine - it
sounded exactly like Eric's. Kyle smirked in triumph. "There you are, shayn."
"F-f-fuck you…" Cartman whimpered when Kyle peppered kisses along his
shoulders.
"I don't allow swearing in my bed," Kyle said sharply. He turned his fingers
again and pushed into that perfect spot, leaving Cartman to expel a mess of
delicious sounds that had Kyle hard and leaking against the back of his thigh.
"Do I, Eric?"
Eric responded with a sob. "N-no…"
Kyle's fingers stilled, intentionally waiting until Eric couldn't help but push
back for more. He never thought he'd see the day where he needed to break Eric
down, but maybe this was something that was a long overdue.
It was always the sweet ones you had to watch out for.
Eric was still squirming, his thoughts banked by heat and his darker
personality floating just barely in the surface. Kyle wanted this. He wanted to
see if he could snap two pieces of a puzzle together that could never naturally
fit - even if it meant cutting the corners to make it happen. Eric needed the
darkness somehow to survive and the only way to be sure was to let all of Eric
know that Kyle was perfection - someone to covet and never stray from. He would
fuck the loyalty out of him if it was the last thing he ever did. 
"The more you fight, the more humiliating it'll be," Kyle said, and his smug
tone made Eric snap his head over his shoulder and grit his teeth. "Wrong
answer."
Kyle pulled his fingers entirely out of him and Eric tried to force down a
whimper over the lost. His newfound confidence waned while his cock throbbed
into the mattress. It was infuriating how much he wanted to just give in and
yet feel completely empowered.
He was not given much time to compose his thoughts because Kyle had finished
lubing himself up before he mercilessly shoved into him. Eric let out a howl
and braced himself hard against the sheets when Kyle seated himself all the way
to the hilt.
It was like something snapped in his head. Eric furiously tried to buck him
off, but Kyle perfected the art of entrapment. He could do no more than thrash
and endure the humiliation and pleasure of being filled up with someone's cock
inside of him.
The bed rocked a bit when Kyle experimentally shifted, his low grunt reminding
Eric all too much like an animal than a human. The longer they remained locked,
the more reality sank in, and he had to come to grips with the breaking. Like
his ass, Eric was growing accustomed to the invasion, and he parted his legs a
bit more to slide Kyle deeper in.
"That's it…" Kyle hissed into his ear. "Take it all in… fucking take it!"
Eric panted at the command. The pain wasn't as bad as yesterday, but Kyle had
never been this vicious until now. He wondered how much he had been holding
back at Eric's expense.
Once he finally settled down, Kyle started to move. It was slow, but precise -
and every thrust was designed to penetrate so deep, Eric couldn't help but
whimper in time to the bed frame smacking against the wall. That, along with
the maddening scrape of that hot chest against his back, was literally fucking
his entire senses up. And when Kyle shifted his hips higher so he could reach
around and squeeze his neglected dick, the sounds Eric made were completely
inhuman and incoherent.
Just when he was near the edge of climax, Kyle pulled out and the loss left
Eric gasping for more. Kyle flipped him onto his back and Eric got an eyeful of
his sweat slicked chest and the trimmed cock in his palm.
"Look at you…" Kyle smiled at him, his green eyes alight and heady. "You act
like you've never been fucked before."
The words came out before he could even think it through. "F-fuck yo-omfph!"
Kyle's hand came down hard across his lips, silencing him completely.
"If you can't follow the house rules, you have to be punished," Kyle uttered
thickly. "I think we should cut out your tongue."
Eric's eyes widened and he desperately tried shaking his head. He'd do it too.
Literally. Swallowing down his pride, Eric fluttered his eyes closed and moaned
into Kyle's hand, his tongue flickering against his palm. With a wry grin, Kyle
slipped a finger into his mouth. Then another. Eric worked the digits around
his tongue and into his throat, trying not to gag.
"Hmm… you make a fair argument," Kyle teased. His other hand slid down and
pried Eric's trembling thighs open. Helpless and pliant beneath him, Kyle
pushed himself back in with a generous sigh.
The bed slowly started to rock again and each time Kyle would thrust, so would
the fingers in Eric's throat. He tried desperately to swallow around them, but
he lost his last bit of control the moment Kyle angled his thrusts and hit him
head on in the prostate. A keening moan seeped against Kyle's fingers and
saliva started to drip down Eric's chin the faster Kyle pushed into him.
It was too much. His neglected cock strained and bounced against his belly. He
almost lost it when Kyle accidentally moaned aloud and nearly gagged when Kyle
squeezed him around the base of his cock to stop him from climaxing.
Frustrated, Eric wrenched his mouth away from Kyle's fingers. "K-kahl…" he said
hoarsely. "I can't…!"
"You don't come until I do." Kyle was panting hard now, his stoic act
unraveling at the seams. He pulled Eric's knees against his chest and dipped
down, catching his lips in a rough, desperate kiss. Eric moaned and eagerly
pushed upwards to meet him halfway, his arms wrapping around Kyle's neck as
they rocked so hard the headboard bounced loudly against the wall again. Poor
Ike. 
"Ngh… ahh…!" Eric sobbed out. It was like a goddamn exorcism. Pillows were
being shifted off, the sheets were sliding all over the place under them. Even
the ceiling seemed to be shuddering overhead. "Oh god… n-more…!"
"More?" One particular thrust was so tight, Eric saw stars.
His fingers clawed down Kyle's back, leaving red marks down pale freckled skin.
He couldn't handle anymore. "N-no… no more! I can't…!"
"Denied." Every syllable was punctuated by a thrust. Kyle squeezed his purpling
cock even more, refusing his release.
Eric desperately fisted through his crimson curls in plea. He threw his head
back in agonizing pleasure when kisses was no longer an adequate offering to
get Kyle to finish. The pace was unrelenting. He couldn't catch his breath.
Everything south of his abdomen was tightly coiled and throbbing for release.
"Please… oh god, please…!"
He wasn't fucking kidding. He really was trying to fuck him into a brain
aneurysm.
Whatever was left coherent in his mind unraveled. His newly found resolve
shattered and his legs untangled in a boneless heap, inviting more of him for
Kyle to thrust into. Eric literally short-circuited from an overload of
pleasure and exhaustion. All that was left was to hang on and let Kyle do away
with him entirely.
"That's it…" Kyle said with a breathless sound of pride. "Break for me… more…
that's it…" And when those blue eyes flashed at him once last time, the last
flare of resistance from the darkness within Eric, Kyle simply grinned and
kissed those pliant lips.
He loosened his grip on Eric's cock and stroked him once, twice - Eric was gone
by the first stroke. Eric jackknifed so hard off the bed, he almost bucked Kyle
off completely as he climaxed. The world, if not for a split second, was
fissured back into its proper place.
Kyle finished inside him not too long afterwards, his thrusts erratic and
rushed while Eric still twitched beneath him. With a bloodcurdling howl that
quickened his pulse, Eric's eyes widened in alarm when he felt something hot
and thick fill him up, Kyle's hips still canting as he rode out his orgasm.
Kyle didn't put on a condom, but the last thing on Eric's mind right now was to
preach about safe sex to someone who clearly didn't give a shit.
Instead, he opened his arms to Kyle as he collapsed on top of him. The next
couple of minutes was nothing except for the sound of heavy breathing and the
delightful whimper Eric made when Kyle finally eased out of him with a snort of
content.
When Eric finally found his voice, it was cracked and sore from the abuse of
his throat. "You weren't kidding."
"Are you seriously talking right now?" Kyle grumbled before he rolled off of
him and searched for his cigarettes. "You know, I'm not fond of this entire
week of celibacy. If you were gonna prove a fucking point to me, don't hold sex
hostage. It didn't do anything to you."
Eric watched through half-lidded eyes as Kyle picked up what looked like his
hoodie from last night and wiped himself down. Kyle paused, took a second look
at the jacket, and then tossed it at his head. "Merry Christmas, asshole," he
hissed around the cigarette.
So it really had been meant for him. Eric sighed and unfolded the soft fabric
now stained with the blood of his victims and Kyle's cum. Lovely. "Did you find
my…?"
Kyle raised his right hand, revealing a very handsome titanium watch that made
Eric's heart skip a beat. "I can't believe you didn't notice it."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Kahl. Did you want me to remember every freckle on your body
too while I'm at it? I was too busy deepthroating your entire fist!" The
sarcasm dripped through as naturally as breathing. To his surprise, Kyle simply
lit up and joined him back in bed.
"This is gonna be real fucking hard to get used to with that new mouth of
yours," Kyle drawled. Eric pinched his lips and reluctantly wiped himself down
with the jacket before he apologetically curled against Kyle's side. There was
nothing he could do - it was ruined anyways.
He didn't want to admit it aloud but it felt… good to vent like that. It was
like something he should have done years ago.
===============================================================================
He ended up having to call his mother and explain to her that yes he was alive,
and no he wasn't permanently brain damaged by what had transpired last night.
Of all the people he wished they didn't see the livestream, his mother was one
of them.
And it didn't help that his Facebook exploded with friend requests and tagged
statuses just begging and bitching about what happened after Kyle cut off the
feed. The truth was no one except him and Kyle knew the status of Heidi and Ron
and it was becoming the talk of the snowed in town. Nature itself demanded they
stay their murderous butts indoors today.
But a small blessing did present itself. With everything caught in a blizzard,
the last candle on the Broflovski's family menorah was shared privately instead
of another party. Eric watched respectfully from his perch on the couch while
they lit up the final candle and made preparations for dinner.
Kyle's parents were surprisingly warm to his extra company. Sheila made no fuss
about adding an extra set on the table while Gerald made an offhanded remark
about kickstarters that made Eric flush in embarrassment. Ike couldn't stop
looking at him either - like he was witnessing some kind of alien for the first
time - and it was annoying enough that Kyle had to order his Canadian ass out
of the living room.
"Look at you, Mr. Popular," Kyle drawled before flopping right next to him. He
fished a cigarette from his pocket. "Even Stan won't shut up about you."
Sheila popped her head out of the kitchen the moment Kyle flipped open his
lighter. "No smoking in living room, bubbe!"
"Fuck." He tucked the cigarette behind his ear instead. "Where the hell am I
supposed to smoke? There's like six feet of snow out on the porch!"
Eric tentatively sighed and lowered his phone. "They know." About us.
"Yeah, so?"
"Are you okay with that?" Eric asked softly. "It's not one random person that
saw us. Everyone saw you reach for me in the livestream."
Kyle rolled his eyes and leaned against the cushion. "Dude, I told you I had no
problem with you. You're the one who assumed I did."
Eric clutched his phone tightly in his palm. "Then why aren't we in a
relationship on Facebook?"
"Oh goddammit. This shit again. Look, you never sent me the notification," Kyle
said so simply, it made Eric's jaw drop. Seriously?
Kyle's cigarette nearly fell off when Eric grabbed him by the front of his
shirt and pulled him in hard. "You're being unnecessarily rough today," Kyle
purred with a quirk of his eyebrow.
"I was waiting for you to send me the notification!" Eric whined, his fingers
twisting into his silky tie. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know about
us!"
"Okay, seriously? When did I ever force anything on you, Cartman?" Kyle lifted
up a finger and counted out. "Our first kiss? I made sure you agreed to it
first. First blow job? I gave you an option out of it. First time we fucked? I
waited until you said it was okay. I was fucking patient with your tubby ass
because I knew you were into the whole romantic shit."
Eric's eyes widened. Now that Kyle was mentioning it, he started to remember
things in a new light. Kyle could have taken advantage of him. It was so easy,
he should have, but he didn't. "Why?" he croaked. "You could've done anything
to me if you-"
"-you're the only pure thing I've got," Kyle muttered so quietly, Eric was
almost sure he imagined it. "For once in my life, I just want to have
something… something good. Bad is easy. It's seriously easy. But when I see you
do good, it's amazing. I just fucking hate the fact that you can get so fucking
oblivious, people can take advantage of it."
It was baffling. Eric could only sit there slack jawed while Kyle fiddled
angrily with his cigarette and poured his heart out in a way he'd never seen
before. With a slow, easy smile, Eric leaned forward and brushed his lips
against Kyle's. "But I'm not pure anymore," he answered sadly. "My charity
drive is ruined."
"Not exactly," Kyle said with a thoughtful look. "Check your kickstarter."
Aside from the ten grand rescinded by the Tweaks for failing to deliver on the
televised killings, fifteen thousand remained in the donation pool, but as far
as Eric was concerned, it wasn't meant for the vets. "I can't accept it," Eric
sighed. "Like you said, it's blood money."
"No, it's an informant reward," Kyle corrected. "The Tweaks can get fucked, but
the others didn't pull out. Craig's thrown it all over Twitter. You saved our
asses telling us about Middle Park. It's only fair this fucking town gave you
the respect you deserved."
Eric's eyes couldn't get any wider. "You mean… people like me now?"
"They think you've gone batshit crazy. And they think you've got me on some
kind of fucking leash now because you grew some balls. It's degrading," Kyle
spat out ruefully, "but I'm not correcting the rumors. Consider it a Hanukkah
present. You're welcome."
His charity drive was still gold. A thrum of peace and content washed over
Eric. "Thanks, Kahl." He kissed him again. "This is all I've ever dreamed
about! My goals were met, I'm with you for Hanukkah…"
"We're not done yet," Kyle countered. "Check your notifications."
Eric's heart literally leaped into his throat when he scrolled down. Facebook
was asking to accept his new relationship status with Kyle Broflovski. "Oh, I
dunno… what if I accidentally hit 'no'?" 
Kyle looked scandalized. "Then you're shit out of luck! I'm only sending it out
once."
That sounded like a promise. His fingers shaking, Eric made sure he pressed the
'yes' button and, just like that, a status automatically popped up on his
timeline with the little heart and everything.
Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman are in a relationship.
Likes and comments started pouring in - most if not all of them positive for
their newest diabolical couple. Red, ever the self-proclaimed portmanteau namer
for every teenage couple in South Park, began trending the new hashtag all over
the feed. 
"Kyman, huh?" Kyle noted offhandedly. "Sounds like a food spice."
"I love it," Eric whispered proudly. "It's perfect. We're perfect."
He had stared at the screen for so long, his phone flickered out to conserve
the battery. From the blackened screen, he could see Kyle's reflection visibly
smirk at him before he brushed his lips against Eric's ear. "Weare perfect."
Perhaps, through the looking glass, those same words were uttered. It may not
be in the same context, nor the same circumstances that led them to those three
single words, but they would always be a constant throughout each universe.
Enemies, friends, lovers - Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman would always be
dangerously intertwined with each other.
They were absolutely perfect.
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