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The Ties that Bind	By : Spacefille Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4383 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2
Friendship

Stan’s point of view

-

For some reason I’m kind of like the school’s sex and crisis counselor. Trust me, it’s not a job I enjoy, and I wish very much that I didn’t have it.
I suppose there are reasons why people keep on inexplicably using me as their personal counselor. It’s probably because I am well known as the boy who had sex first in our age group, back in grade 6. I thought it was cool that Wendy let me go all the way with her for a whole 24 hours, until I realized what a pain the figurative ass it was. Kids in our grade started calling Wendy a slut, which was retarded since she had only slept with me. Kenny acted like he hated me because I got laid before him, which was irritating. Boys in my grade also started calling me a stud and some of them started trying to beat me up because I did ‘it’ first, which was even more retarded.
I didn’t know having sex was a race. Or a game. Or anything like that. So Wendy and I had sex… I felt her bits, she felt mine, and after a while I put my bits in hers and thrust a couple times. So what?
After a while I got frustrated, both at being envied and having Wendy, who was still my girlfriend, being called bad names, so I beat the shit out of this one guy who made the mistake of calling her a whore in front of me.
They all left me… US alone after that.

-

In grade 7, a girl in my class got raped.
I was the one she ended up confiding in. I’m sure it wasn’t deliberate… I just happened to be the one that came across her on the west-side school steps bawling her eyes out. I would have freaked out and ran the other way, but I kinda liked the girl. Even if there had been rumors going around that she was dating some 18 year old guy.
I sat down beside her and asked her what was wrong. Turns out that 18 year old guy had raped her one night when he had invited her over to watch a movie. She had told him to stop and he didn’t and she said it really really hurt. I didn’t know what to say, so I awkwardly patted her shoulder and offered to go kick his ass.
She wailed “No!”, and started to cry harder to my absolute dismay. Then she turned around and buried her head in my shoulder and sobbed into my shirt for a while. After she was done she sniffled, said “Thank you for listening to me Stan, it really meant a lot to me,” and gave me a hug before getting up and walking away.
Girls are fucking messed. I was confused for weeks after that. I was so confused I asked my dad why a girl would not want me to beat up some guy who raped them and why they cry so damned much. He shrugged and said that woman were fucking confusing to him too, which had my mom yelling at him for a good half hour.
Go figure.

-

In the beginning of Grade 8, Butters confided in me about his problem. He was super nervous doing it (then again, when isn’t Butters super nervous?) and afraid that I would ignore him, or worse, tease him. By this time I had resigned myself to my fate and listened to him.
Turns out he had been seeing a girl in our class and she wanted to go all the way with him. At that point I congratulated him and slapped him on the back good naturedly.
I figured that was it, but I was wrong. That was when Butter’s confession came out. Turns out his uncle used to fuck him when he was younger, or something like that, he was vague on the details. Anyway he had a medical condition for a while, and had trouble controlling his rectum. Even though he had the problem under control now and had for a couple years, he still felt like he was dirty and yucky down yonder, no matter how clean he kept himself.
Butter’s problem was the easiest to figure out. I thought about it for a whole 2 seconds before a solution came to mind… if he WAS so nervous, why didn’t he just have a shower and scrub himself good before doing anything with the girl? Butters thought about that for a bit and then I added that maybe the girl had a fish smell problem with her vagina and felt really self conscious about her fish smell. For some reason the thought of someone else being afraid of smelling down there made Butters feel much better. Since as far as I know the two are still dating, I assume it worked out.

-

Near the end of grade 8 Kyle came out with his shocker. That one was the hardest to deal with.
We were relaxing at my place after a good game of laser tag with Cartman, Kenny, Butters, et al. My parents weren’t home and everyone else had gone home as well. It was just the two of us, me and my best buddy.
It was then that Kyle asked the question. You know the question. The “What would you do if I said I was gay Stan?” question.
I choked on my slushie. It was unfair really, to randomly pop a question like that on me when I was completely relaxed. I got my coughing under control and eyed him.
“I dunno.” I replied. “Are you gay?”
He was blushing, about the same color as his hair. He turned his head away and mumbled something in the general direction of his lap.
“What?” I asked. The blushing probably meant yes, which blew my mind. Kyle? GAY? Well, I suppose he had never shown much interest in girls… but still… “You’re not serious are you?”
He looked back up at me out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe.” He said.
He was serious. And that maybe meant… “Yes?” I replied incredulously.
He looked away again. “Okay, yes, I guess.” He said.
I frowned. I was still having trouble processing this new information. Kyle = Gay. What? “Alright, run that by me again?” I asked.
Kyle cleared his throat. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but in my living room right then. “I’m gay Stan.” He said in a very soft but very firm voice.
Talk about the confession of a life time. I could have started teasing him and bugging him about it, but that’s not something you do to a friend you’ve been hanging out with since you were 2. I thought about it for a moment. “Like, Mrs. Garrison, Mr. Slave gay?” I asked.
Kyle stared at me, than shook his head adamantly. “No, dude, ew!” He protested. “No.” He sighed and thought some more, obviously trying to find the right words. “I like being me, Stan.” He said earnestly. “I like being a boy. I like playing basketball and all that. I’m not a fag, I’m not like Gay Al or Mr. Slave or anyone like that. I just…” He paused for quite a while before he got the guts up to continue. “I just think I’m attracted to other boys instead of girls. That’s all.” His green eyes pleaded with me to understand.
I could get it, I guess. I mean I had never been attracted to guys at all, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t pretend to be supportive and all that shit.
“I see.” I said. I looked at him and then at the wall, trying valiantly to deal with this. I mean my best friend was sitting beside me telling me he’s attracted to other boys. It’s… disconcerting to say the least.
“Stan?” Kyle questioned after enough silence had crept by. There was a note of desperation in his voice. Like he expected me to turn on him now, perhaps beat the shit out of him or something. “I’m sorry… look, dude, forget I said anything, okay?”
I looked back at him then. I actually felt sorry for him, it wasn’t very often I get to see that much nervousness and anxiety on Kyle’s face.
I shrugged deliberately. “It’s okay dude, no biggie.” I told him matter-of-factly. “I mean, I’m not attracted to guys or anything, but if you are, that’s cool.” It’s the biggest thing I’ve ever said, I think, to date.
I’ve never seen Kyle look so relieved. He smiled from ear to ear. “So you’re not grossed out?” He asked. “We’re still friends?”
“Of course.” I slapped him on the back jovially to show how much we were still friends.
He winced ever so slightly, though the huge grin on his face didn’t fade at all. “Don’t tell anyone, ‘kay?” He asked.
I gave him a “are you insane?” look. “Wow. Dude, don’t be stupid. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
He smiled gratefully. “Thank you Stan.” He said. “You’re a really good pal, you know that, don’t you?”
I smiled back. “I’ve been told,” I replied.
Several minutes later found us sitting in front of the TV playing video games. When I died, I paused the game. I had to know.
“Hey! I was winning that round!” Kyle protested. Then he looked at me. “… What?” He asked in reply to the expression on my face.
It took me a moment to come out with it. “You’re not attracted to me, are you Kyle?” I asked.
His eyes widened. “What? Dude! No!” He replied. “Not you.” He blushed again.
I raised an eyebrow. “Then who?” I pressed. There was someone, or else he wouldn’t be blushing.
He looked down at his hands fiddling with the Gamesphere 2 controller for a couple seconds before he was able to reply. “Craig.” He said finally. He smiled sheepishly up at me and continued to blush. “I think he’s kinda good looking.”
I nodded sagely as I considered that. Kyle was looking at me expectantly. Waiting for a response. God, I hate it when I have to think over what I say, and I wasn’t getting out of this one without replying.
I cleared my throat. “I suppose Craig would be good looking if he wasn’t such an annoying little shit.” I said.
Kyle grinned at me. I grinned back. Then we went back to playing video games for the rest of the night.

-

We continued being friends, Kyle and I, actually we continued along in our friendship much like the topic had never been brought up in the first place. That is, until someone at school decided to leak that Kyle was gay.
It wasn’t me, but I knew the moment I heard a couple guys jeering about it in the locker room that Kyle was in trouble. I confronted him on it later at his house while visiting, and asked how it could have possible gotten out. I hadn’t been the one to tell anyone, and I don’t think he was stupid enough to leak it either. Letting kids at school know you’re gay was basically like signing your own death warrant.
He knew about the rumors… in fact he had already been threatened by a couple of eleventh graders. I hated to see what this was doing to him. He was wringing his hands in nervous distress, just like Butters, as he paced his bedroom floor. I was a little bit worried as I watched him from where I sat on his bed. This wasn’t the calm confident Kyle I had grown up with, the incredibly smart boy who got frustrated at stupidity and hated people who made others suffer. He looked hunted for god’s sake. “I don’t know how they found out!” He said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “I mean, maybe someone saw me making out with Riley…”
“With who?” I asked. I didn’t know anyone by the name of Riley.
Kyle blushed all the way down to his very red roots. “I, uh…” He sat down on his bed as well, a fair distance away from where I sat. “You know that little grove of trees at the end of the school field?” He asked.
I nodded.
“Well uh, Riley… he was in grade 12 and stuff and I used to make out with him there last semester. He moved to Denver with his family in December, so I haven’t seen him in a while…”
“Wait… wait a minute Kyle…” I interrupted him. “Last semester? Dude, you hung out with us all last semester! When did you ever have time to make out with some guy from grade 12?!”
Kyle blushed again. Wow, this was beginning to become a trend. “Remember when I used to go to the library alone and study after class? And I told you guys I had to be alone because I’d never be able to get any work done?” He asked.
“Oh.” I replied. “OH.” I gave him a look. “You were fucking some guy instead?! And you never told me?!!”
“I wasn’t fucking him!” Kyle defended himself. “Geez, we were only making out, that’s all.”
“And you never told me.” I continued.
“I couldn’t!” Kyle defended himself. “I was afraid you’d stop being my friend!”
“Since when did I ever stop being your friend Kyle?!” I yelled at him. I was on my feet now, illogically enraged about the entire thing. “I just wouldn’t mind knowing when my best friend is getting pawed by some loser faggot, that’s all!” I knew I shouldn’t have said that the moment the words came out of my mouth. I gulped, but I couldn’t take them back now. I wanted to take it back…
Kyle went extraordinarily pale at what I said. I could see he was practically trembling. He was silent for the longest time then finally he forced out a response. “He said… he said I was pretty.” He whispered. And then he started to cry.
“Damn it, Kyle…” I said without malice, half exasperated, half ashamed at myself. I trekked over and sat down beside him on the bed, heaving a sigh as I did so. He continued to cry. I winced, then reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t protest or shrug it off I drew him into a sideways hug. He cried against my shoulder for a while.
“I hate myself.” He muttered when he had stopped crying and was just sniffling.
I sighed again, low and heavy. For the longest time I didn’t know what to say and my brain shuffled through several different possible responses. Finally I settled on one and I spoke carefully. “Look, Kyle, this is just a slump in your life okay? Everyone has them.” I went back in my memory, way back. “Do you remember back in grade 4 when Wendy dumped me and I thought my life was over?”
Kyle nodded against my shirt.
“And I was too full of self pity to realize how retarded I was being? And remember how you were the only one to come find me and tell me how stupid I was?”
Kyle nodded again. I could see a faint smile ghosting at the corner of his mouth.
“Well?” I asked.
He sat up, still smiling a bit and wiped his eyes. “So you’re saying I’m being retarded right now.” He let out a little laugh and gave me a grateful look. “I got it.” He let out a tired sigh and laid back on his bed. He looked up at his ceiling, folding his hands behind his head as he did so.
“Hey Stan?” He asked after a moment or two.
“Yeah?” I replied.
He looked at me. “Thank you for, you know… everything.”
I nodded and laid back on the bed to stare at the ceiling as well. “No problem.” I reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “Any time.”

-

God. What would I do without him? I mean, sexuality aside, he’s my best friend. He means more to me than anything, I don’t care what his sexual preference is. I couldn’t help but to turn over how devastated I would be if he died in my mind as my mom silently drove me to the hospital.
All she had said was that someone found him in the school field and helped him to the school to phone for help. Kyle’s mom had then taken him to the hospital, he had been in such bad shape when she had come to get him.
No one, and I do mean no one, said a word about why. It was always “These things happen” and “those boys will get suspended Stan,” when I asked. Adults are so infuriating sometimes… SUSPENDED? They tried to kill him! But then they give each other knowing looks over my head and tell me it will be okay, and that Kyle only got into a fight. Apparently people only get suspended for getting into fights.
Okay my ass. If things were okay, my best friend wouldn’t be lying in a hospital room right now looking like he just got trampled by the entire football team and lived to tell about it.

-

He smiled weakly when he saw me. “Hey Stan.” He said.
I replied in one terse word. “Who.” I was going to kill someone.
He frowned and looked off to the side. “I don’t…”
I grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me who did this Kyle.”
He winced. “Stan please…” He began to tear up past swollen blackened eyes. Fuck.
I let go of his shoulder and took a step back, running my hands through my unkept black hair. I turned away. I needed to calm down. Rethink my approach. I have to be supportive to Kyle, not go Neanderthal on him and make him more miserable.
When I turned back I made it a point to try and listen to him instead. I made Kyle tell me everything of course, who what where, and so on, but I promised him I wouldn’t do anything about it. Promised I wouldn’t find those fucking jerks and make sure they ended up in the hospital as well.
Though I don’t know why, exactly, he didn’t want me to hunt them down and kill them… oh wait, I do. It’s because Kyle is Kyle, and he has way too much heart. It’s so damned frustrating sometimes…
“Well, on the positive side of things, I don’t see any of them coming back to school after their suspensions are done.” I told him when I had calmed down enough to speak rationally. They were deadbeat losers who often skipped school anyway. They spent more time outside the school smoking up than going to class.
Kyle nodded. He looked away again and studied the curtain which was strung up around his hospital bed.
I frowned. There was something he wasn’t telling me about the entire thing. ‘Kyle silence’ and not looking me in the eye meant that he was either lying to me, or, more likely, holding something back. However if he wasn’t going to tell me, I wasn’t going to push it. He had already been through enough shit, you know?

-

The next day I had an argument with him. I went to school the next day… he stayed home to ‘rest’. I figured it was best to get him back to his regular routine as fast as possible. Why? Because I was afraid that he’d slip into a depression and never want to go to school again. Kyle’s not like me, he’s an ‘A’ student. Even a couple days away would make his grades slip.
“FINE.” I finally got him to agree as the argument moved from his bedroom to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water with a certain amount of forcefulness, his lips thinned in anger.
“Like, dude, I don’t know what the big deal is. They’re not even at school right now. It’s the best time to come and show that you’re not a little pussy…”
His head snapped up and he glared at me. “I said I’ll go back Stan! Now leave me the fuck alone okay?”
He went to sit down at the kitchen table with his back turned to me. Instead of sitting like he was angry, like flopping down in the chair, or grinding the chair across the floor, he pulled the chair out carefully. Then he sat painstakingly… gingerly. My mouth opened slightly with shock as I put two and two together.
“Dude…” I said softly.
“What?” He grumbled. He was still too angry to realize what he had given away…
“I – I didn’t know.” I finally replied in a low voice, feeling a bit foolish. Like why hadn’t I considered that as a possibility?
His head snapped around and he stared at me. Fear flashed across his face when he saw that I knew. “Stan?” He questioned.
I could only look back at him, feeling somewhat sickened. “You didn’t…” I paused.
He winced and looked away again. He mumbled something about the doctor saying he’d be fine. Or something.
"Are… are you going to tell anyone?" I asked. Those expressive green eyes just stared at me. “What?” I asked, confused, in response to the look on his face.
Now he looked horrified. And panicky for some reason. “No dude! No.” His eyes begged me to understand. He was whispering now, keeping his voice down so that other people in the house couldn’t hear him, leaning closer to me so that only I could hear. “Please don’t tell anyone Stan. I don’t think I can live with it…” He gulped.
It took a lot of that inner strength shit, but I walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Comfortingly. I could understand that. If I got fucked in the ass, the last thing I’d want was for people to know.
Kyle’s second secret was safe with me.
Now I just had to work on preventing him from shattering and falling apart. That was going to be the hard part. I cleared my throat, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. Finally when enough silence had crept by, I spoke up. “About school tomorrow…” I began cautiously.
He sighed. “You’re right,” He said with resignation. “I should probably go.”
I sighed. That was the response I wanted to hear, but… this was going to be hard on him. Beyond being a pussy and not wanting to go back ‘cause someone kicked his ass, this whole entire situation was a little deeper than that. Even I could see that. I remembered the girl from grade 7… she skipped school a lot in the months following her rape. … And sometimes when she thought no one was looking, I could see her trying very hard to fight back tears. Oh, and there was the once at the grade 8 dance when a guy tried to feel her up and she screamed at him and hit him over the head with one of the side table cookie trays. Yup… this was going to be a lot more difficult to handle than I thought. “’Kay dude. You know if you need anything…”
Kyle merely nodded. “Yeah. I know. Thanks.”
I got the feeling he wanted to be left alone then. I patted him on the back a couple times and quietly left the room.

-

Damn it! I thought to myself as I left his house. Why do horrible things have to happen to my friends? Was God trying to get us back for all the pranks we played on people as kids?
Heh. We played a lot of pranks, didn’t we?
Pleasant thoughts about elementary school exploits couldn’t keep my thoughts away from Kyle very long. Even mom and dad picked up that I was moping during dinner that night.
“I talked to Sheila this afternoon,” My mother began conversationally.
I grunted in response.
“She says Kyle’s doing much better today.” She continued. “She also said you went over to visit Kyle, Stan, that was very nice of you…”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said abruptly.
My mom and Dad exchanged a knowing look over my head. “Hey Stan…” My dad began.
“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” I snapped. Mom and Dad looked at each other again.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up from the table. “I’ll be in my room,” I mumbled.
Yeah, this was bugging me more than I’d like it too.

-

Things slowly got better, thank God. The first day was rough, on Kyle more than me… I found out that Cartman had seen some of what happened to Kyle. And, what’s more, he didn’t do anything to help Kyle out, the sick stupid fuck. That’s what I found out at lunch the next day when the fat asshole laid into Kyle about being a slut. I saw red then, but managed to keep it in as Kyle needed me more than my need to kick Cartman’s ass right then.
I HAD intended to kick Cartman’s ass afterwards if he kept it up, but amazingly, he shut up after that. He actually stopped teasing Kyle, at least for the most part.
I knew he was up to something. Then again, when isn’t Cartman up to something? I was so used to it, I ignored him. I figured if he wasn’t teasing Kyle, Kyle had one less thing to worry about.
God, I wish I had paid more attention.
Instead I spent the rest of the week making sure Kyle didn’t fall apart in front of people, paying attention only to him. I was elated when two of the three boys didn’t come back to school… and I threatened to kick the ass of the one boy who did. He was in our gym class… though he still made suggestive looks and kissy faces at Kyle from a distance, he learnt really fast that if he came anywhere NEAR Kyle he was going to loose his balls. And I was perfectly fine getting expelled for making him an eunuch. Luckily it never came to that… at least not during gym class.
I stopped paying so much to Kyle over time. I could have ghosted him everywhere, but Kyle wouldn’t have liked that. I think having me have to defend him so much really bothered him, though he never said so directly. It was something that bugged him before he got his ass kicked… both Cartman and I shot up like weeds in the last year… Kyle was definitely on the smaller side compared to the other kids in the class. It bothered him that he had something else to prevent him from being able to play basketball. I kept on assuring him he would get taller, but when you’re short NOW, assurances mean nothing. Especially empty ones.
We started drifting apart about a month after the incident. Again, I just wasn’t paying good enough attention. He kept on telling me he wanted to be alone, and that he had a lot of catching up on homework to do. I wanted to give him his space, so I let him do his own thing. He told me he was fine, but if he needed anything, he’d call me.
October turned into November. The Halloween dance came and went. The football team went to the state championships and came back again, a gloating Cartman in tow.
I pounded on Kyle’s door a couple of times and convinced him to come out and play laser tag or play multiplayer video games at my house, but he was quiet during those times and I could tell he wasn’t really enjoying himself. I finally backed off completely. I felt a bit like I had been abandoned by my best friend. He’s been through a lot, I convinced myself as I hung out with Kenny instead. I half hoped that he would see me with Kenny and get jealous, but he didn’t seem to notice. As November dragged on, I kinda stopped going anywhere near Kyle at all. I did it for a very important reason… if I went near Kyle I knew I would get in an argument with him about how he wasn’t hanging around with me anymore. I was bitter.
At the same time everyone at school had finally shut up about Kyle’s sexuality as new scandals involving various students came to light. Trent stopped coming to school, and a rumor going around told me he had moved to Denver. Now I really didn’t have a reason to hang out with Kyle, even in gym class. And, for some reason, Cartman had started actually being NICE to Kyle. It was odd to watch, and it was obvious that Kyle found him repulsive and irritating, yet they sat next to each other at lunch now. Cartman even shared his lunch with him, which was extremely out of character for the fatass. Even though Kyle accepted everything Cartman gave him listlessly, I was upset he was hanging out with Cartman, who, up until a couple weeks ago, had hated him. I pretended that didn’t bother me… but it did. It also made me more determined to spend all my time with Kenny.

-

I found out about what Cartman was doing to Kyle near the end of November, about a month after I should have found out about it if I had been a good friend.
I had just gotten out of my stupid after school study group. I was making my way past the rarely used physical education classrooms, when I heard a pair of voices speaking down a narrow set of stairs. I wouldn’t have stopped, but the voices sounded familiar. One of them especially.
Cartman?
I frowned and made my way down the stairs. I don’t know why I chose to go down them quietly, it just seemed to be a good idea. Especially when I recognized the second voice.
Kyle. Well, maybe if I saw them together I could figure out why on earth Kyle had decided to hang out with Cartman instead of me for the last month or so…
The door at the bottom of the stairs was closed. There was a tiny window on the door, one I could see past if I wanted to… it was just at eyelevel height. I tried to hear what Kyle and Cartman were saying before peeking into the room, but they had gone silent about when I reached the bottom of the steps. Frowning deeper I stood up on my tip toes and peeked inside.
It took me a moment to find them. They were up against the right side wall, Kyle’s body all but covered by Cartman’s ample bulk. For a moment I thought Cartman was threatening him, with him up against the wall like that… but then I noticed the way they were moving. And Cartman’s face was too close to Kyles… they must have been…
Oh GOD!
I dropped like a stone into a crouch, my eyes wide with absolute disbelief. What. The. FUCK?!
I had stand up to look again. It was like watching a train wreck. They had moved to the floor. I could only watch with horror as Cartman sat up enough to fiddle with his belt…
I couldn’t take it. I bolted. Took the stairs two at a time. RAN all the way back to South Park, despite the town being over three miles away from the high school. I was nearly sick twice during that run. I had no fucking idea…

-

I needed to talk to him. No matter how betrayed I felt, or angry… there was something fucked up about the entire thing. I wanted him to look at me in the eye and tell me he was fucking Cartman. And then I wanted him to tell me WHY, exactly. And then I wanted to hit him again and again until I knocked some sort of sense into him…

Gerald Broflovski answered the door when I got to his house. I panted for breath and demanded to see Kyle.
Kyle’s dad blinked. “He’s not home from study group yet Stan.” He said.
I coughed at that. Bullshit he was at study group.
“… But you can come in and wait for him if you’d like,” He added, a concerned look on his face. He gestured for me to come in past him. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. Just fine Mr. Broflovski. Thanks.” I replied, tight lipped. So fine in fact that your gay son has apparently lost his mind. Or became the biggest slut in the entire school. Either one…

-

Kyle didn’t notice me at first when he came into his room. He sighed as he dropped his book bag on the floor, then took off his winter hat, tossing it on top of his bag.
He looked tired. Very tired in fact. I would have felt sorry for him if I wasn’t so pissed off.
I cleared my throat. He nearly jumped through the roof.
“Stan!” He gasped when he had stopped being startled enough to speak. He stared at me where I sat on his bed. “What—what are you doing here?” He added, wide eyed.
I folded my arms across my chest, glowering. “Waiting.” I replied tersely.
Now he looked confused. “For what?” He asked. “What is it Stan?”
I frowned and narrowed my eyes at him. “I saw you.” I replied. I gritted my teeth before I could spit out the rest. “With Cartman.”
Well, that got a reaction at least. He went from staring at me with wideeyed confusion to turning completely white. He even stumbled a bit as he reached behind himself and fumbled the door closed.
“I—Stan, I can explain.” He said in a strained whisper as soon as the door was shut.
“Please do Kyle!” I replied with as much venom as I could muster. I got up and stalked towards him, which actually made him shrink back a bit. “I really would like to know how you went from hating Cartman to letting him fuck you.” I snapped. We were circling each other now… or rather I was walking forwards and he kept on walking backwards. “Really. Did getting fucked in the ass turn you into a whore? Who else are you fucking Kyle? Does Clyde get in on the fun too? How about Token?”
That hurt. I could tell by the expression on his face. Too bad I was too pissed off to care. “Stan!” He started, his voice cracking. “Please…”
I lunged forwards, using my larger size and weight to drive him back onto the bed. I pinned him beneath me with ease. “Please? Please WHAT Kyle. Fuck you?” I punched him in the face, making him yelp in pain. “I’m not a fucking faggot, jewboy.” What was I doing? It was like I couldn’t stop… every repressed emotion from the last 6 months… hell, last 6 YEARS were coming back to bite me in the ass.
He started to cry. I hit him again, and gripped his jaw. “Stop being a fucking pussy Kyle.” I spat. “What on earth were you thinking?!”
He just blubbered with his eyes tightly shut and tried to shake his head. When he got a hold of himself enough to gasp for breath he spoke. “I—I couldn’t…” He shook his head again and began to cry harder.
I could tell I had gone too far the moment I felt the urge to hit him again and again until he stopped crying. Until he stopped breathing. I saw a part of myself then that I never saw before and never wanted to see again. More than a bit horrified, I let go of him and shimmied off of him as well. I was trembling. Fuck. Fuck!
I sat beside him on the bed, my arms around my knees as I looked at him until he regained control. He stopped crying and instead made the occasional choking sounds as he stared at the ceiling.
“Kyle?” I questioned softly after enough time had passed.
He looked at me and managed a tiny smile. “Dude,” he said. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
I made a face. “Just tell me what’s going on, ‘kay?” I replied, a bit desperately. “That’s all I want to know.” Tell me why being with Cartman is more important than being with me…
He sighed and turned over on his side, his back to me. After a long drawn out pause he spoke in a low voice. “I enjoy it Stan.” He cringed, like he expected to be hit again.
No. There was no way. I had to slide off the bed and make my way to him so that I could see his face. “I don’t believe you.” I replied as I crouched down to be eye level with him. “Him telling you that you enjoy it and you enjoying it are two different things Kyle.”
He sat up and sighed, rubbing at an eye tiredly. “He’s nice to me now.” He mumbled. “He doesn’t hurt me…” He started crying again, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “He d-doesn’t even c-call me bad names anymore…”
Oh God.
I climbed onto the bed and grasped the back of his head, moving him so that I could see his face. “He’s really fucked you up.” I observed. I had never seen Kyle like this before. Not even two months ago. He was a regular fucking basket case right now. Tears ran hotly down his cheeks, over mottled skin.
“I’m sorry.” I said. I leaned forwards and wrapped my arms around him. His back heaved as he continued to sob silently into my shirt. That’s all I could say, really. I should have noticed something before now.
I’m a horrible friend. That’s what I learned about myself that day. An absolute horrible terrible friend. I let my friend get raped and then left him to get raped again by a manipulative asshole who only cares about his own self gratification.
A sharp knock on Kyle’s door startled us both. “Kyle?” Sheila Broflovski’s voice came through the door. We both wrenched away from each other quick enough that we were on opposite sides of the bed when the door opened.
Sheila frowned at me before looking at her son. “I heard you two arguing in here.” She said. Then she caught sight of her son’s face. “Kyle!” She exclaimed, coming into the room. “Are you okay? What’s wrong baby?”
“I’m fine, mom.” Kyle muttered under his breath. I could tell he was horribly embarrassed… it was bad enough when Mrs. Broflovski babied him when he was eight, let alone when he was 14.
Unfortunately Kyle’s mom decided that I was the source of her baby’s torment. “I think you should go home now Stan.” She told me sternly as she hovered protectively over her son.
“Yeah, okay Mrs. Broflovski.” I said, sliding off the bed. Kyle shot me a desperate ‘Help me!’ look, but I was used to looks like that from him where his mother was involved.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Kyle,” I said. I grabbed my bag from where I left it in the corner of the room.
I heard an exasperated “Mom I’m fine!” from Kyle as I made my way down the hall. “We just had an argument, that’s all! Jesus Christ…”
“Well he’s obviously not a very good friend if he made you cry, now is he?” Sheila’s voice carried loud and clear. I rolled my eyes.
“I’m not the friend you need to be worried about,” I muttered to myself as I made my way out of Kyle’s house.
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The Ties that Bind