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A Happy Place Is Hard To Find	By : Breech_Loader Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2543 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, and I own none of the characters used in it. I do not own South Park.

Chapter List
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A Happy Place Is Hard To Find
By Breech Loader
Breech: And where are all my reviews? Why not leave a review? Is my story really that bad?
This chapter, the nasty stuff starts kicking in. Of course, right now it's just mediocre nasty stuff. Oh, and there's drug use in this story. I HATE DRUGS. I mean, I don't hate people who take drugs and I stay well-informed, but SHIT do I hate drugs.
Chapter Two: Trusting Is Harsh
“Oh jeepers, not again! You promised you’d never tell anybody!”
“Don;t be so naive, Butters, of course I won’t,” Cartman gave Butters his most benevolent smile, “You’re gonna do what I say and I won’t have to.”
Butters’ soft blond lashes drooped in submission, and Cartman made his move, crushing his lips against the smaller boy’s and shoving him against the brick wall at the back of the school. Butters didn’t move at all, but Cartman never asked for a response, only power. Frankly, Butters hated every moment of it, but it was easier this way than to argue. He hated the way Cartman’s mouth moved, and the taste of tacos and candy that was left behind, and the bruising grip of his hands.
And he hated the words Cartman muttered, things like “You’re my little bitch”, and “You love it”. The only thing that made this bearable in any way was that if Cartman called him by any name at all, it was ‘Kyle’.
He did what he always did now, and blanked out, staring vacantly and waiting for Cartman to stop groping at him. Lately, Cartman had been grinding against him a lot harder, and he hated that, too. His Happy Place just wasn’t equipped to take this much pressure.
Cartman continued to mutter under his breath as he kept grabbing at Butters’ ass. Butters just let his arms hang by his side. Cartman didn’t demand his touch. Butters didn’t need to be Butters. He didn’t need to be anybody or anything. Cartman rather liked all this power he had, all this grabbing and squeezing, his hands moving harshly on Butters’ body, and when he took a peek at Butters’ face sometimes there might even be a few tears running down from Butters’ empty blue eyes, but what made it feel really good was imagining somebody doing all of this to him.
He reached between Butters’ thighs and grabbed hard, making the vacant boy yelp and struggle in pain briefly as he kissed him.
“Eric, Eric, that really hurts!” Butters protested for the first time out loud in a while.
“Shut up you weak faggot, you love it-” Butter’s kicking foot caught him a crack in the shin, and he punched him in the stomach before bullying him into another rough kiss-
“JESUS CHRIST DUDE!!!!”
Cartman snapped away from Butters, and lucidity returned to the smaller blond in one fell swoop as they looked to the side.
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, MAN?!!!” Tweek had rounded the corner of the school, but now he grabbed his own hair and pulled on it.
“I-I-“ Cartman looked around in a panic, “No need to panic, Tweek. It was just… Butters! Butters wanted me to kiss him! He’s a filthy faggot!”
“CHRIST CARTMAN, I'M NOT A TOTAL IDIOT! I CAN SEE WHAT YOU'RE- DAMMIT YOU MADE ME PULL OUT MY OWN FUCKING HAIR!” Tweek screeched, looking at a handful of blond strands, “MY OWN FUCKING HAIR, YOU FAGGOT!”
“I’m not a fag, you little spaz! Kissing’s not gay! It’s only gay if you both like it, and I hated it!” Cartman insisted, “If you tell anybody, Tweek, I’ll tell your mom and dad that… that you drink meth in your coffee, and they’ll never let you drink coffee again!”
“SECRETS?! OH MAN THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE!” Tweek screamed.
“I mean, who’re they gonna believe, Tweek?” Cartman asked more calmly, “A twitching little spaz like you who still sees the Underpants Gnomes, or me?” he put on a face, “Oh, Mister and Mrs Tweek, I saw Tweek putting something in his coffee and I thought it was sugar and I asked for some and he said I’d have to buy it special and he took me behind the school and there were these nasty people…”
“SECRETS?! YOU WANT ME TO KEEP SECRETS?! OH FUCKING HELL CARTMAN!” Tweek was breathing as hard as a kid suffering from an asthma attack, “YOU’RE SO FUCKED UP! YOU’RE GAY DAMMIT! JUST OWN IT ALREADY!”
“So if you tell anybody, you’ll never get any coffee, ever again!” Cartman told him victoriously.
“No-no-no c-c-c-coffee?! OH HOLY FUCK! That is way too much- No-no-no-no- AUGH!” Tweek’s fingers knotted in his hair even tighter, before he collapsed to the ground and started to seize up from the stress.
When Tweek opened his eyes again, it was like looking into a shining blue sea. It took almost a minute for him to realise he was looking up at Butters. Cartman was nowhere to be seen and his brain fizzed and boiled painfully as he continued to twitch.
“Hey, Tweek,” Butters was holding his hand, concern in his blue eyes, “You fell down and started shaking. I mean, you’re always shaking, but this time you… I was real worried so I stayed here while Cartman ran off to get help, but now you’ve woken up so it’s okay... Are you okay?”
“I… I…” Tweek tried to fill in the gaps, and one of the last things he remembered was… “Oh, Jesus! Cartman makes you kiss him?!” He felt his nails dig into his hands, “Why do you even let him?!”
Butters paused. Didn’t Tweek remember Cartman’s threats? He supposed he should tell him… but that was what had started Tweek fitting in the first place. He swallowed, “Well, Cartman saw me with… with the razor once,” he referred to his cuts, “And he said he’d not tell, but I owed him… and then a few days later he… and then he said if I told I’d get grounded forever – you don’t know my dad, he’d so ground me…” Butters looked down for a few seconds, before looking up again, “And now he’s always telling me to… And I… I just feel so trapped!”
“OH JESUS!” Tweek’s emerald green eyes widened as he sat up again, “Jesus, Butters! I mean- ACK! I mean, Cartman’s such a fag, but…” he pulled on his hair, “Oh, this is WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE!”
“Jeepers, Tweek!” Butters leant forward, “It’s okay! I can deal with it!” he took a breath and took hold of Tweek’s hands, moving them out of his hair, “Do you remember your Happy Place, Tweek?” Tweek managed to nod, “Well… that’s where I go when Eric kisses me, so… Happy Place?”
“Happy Place… Hap-hap-happy Place…” Tweek tried to breathe, holding Butter’s hands still, “Green fields… frolicking deer… calm music…” He continued to twitch, but he was slowing down a little. He opened his eyes again and yet Butters was still there.
“Tweek…” Butters tried to take them away from talking or thinking about Cartman, helping Tweek to his feet, “My dad drinks coffee from Harbucks sometimes. And… he doesn’t fall over like that. Maybe you shouldn’t drink all that coffee?”
“NO COFFEE?!” Tweek screamed, “JESUS-” he gasped as Butters hugged him.
“I’m sorry, little buddy,” Butters kept his voice as calm and soothing as possible as he stroked Tweek’s bony sides, “It was just a suggestion. Jeepers, if it means that much to you, I promise I won’t make you stop drinking it.”
Tweek’s heart continued to pound and tremble, but he didn’t fight the hug, resting his head on Butters’ shoulder, “No… no, FUCK! You’re right… I- ACK! – I love coffee,” he huffed slightly, “I mean, I love the t-taste, I guess. And it- it- it- keeps me sharp for everything! And I don’t sleep when I drink coffee! That’s the best part of all! But then I get like this… And sometimes my chest hurts, or my stomach and I see things that aren’t the Underpants Gnomes… JESUS CHRIST! Sometimes it’s fucking horrible!”
“Then I guess…” Butters mused, “I guess it’s up to you to decide what’s better. Golly, if pros for quitting outweigh cons, then maybe you should quit drinking it?”
“ACK!” was Tweek’s response.
“Heckaroonies, Tweek, I said it was up to you!” Butters repeated, running his fingers through Tweek’s tangled hair soothingly as Tweek’s breathing returned to normal. For Tweek.
“C-Constantine,” Tweek whispered.
“What?”
“You can call me Constantine,” Tweek muttered, “If you like. I kinda like it better than Tweek anyway.”
“Leopold.”
After school, the two boys walked to Tweek Bros Coffee House together. Butters liked that it gave him an excuse to not have to go the last few steps alone with Cartman, who would often pin him for several minutes around the side of his house once Kyle and Stan were gone.
“OH JESUS!” Tweek wailed, “I finished off all my coffee at school!” He was shaking again, and nothing Butters could do or say would make it stop, “I’m sorry, Butters! JESUS CHRIST! I’m so sorry! It has to be my dad’s coffee! It just has to be! It’s the only proper coffee in town! ACK!”
Tweek’s father was out, and Tweek started putting his coffee together, shaking so hard that some of it splashed on his rumpled shirt. Finally he sprinkled some powder in. After a moment of thought, he added another sprinkling. After a sip or two, he started to cheer up again, not relaxed, but more focused.
“S-sorry, Butters!” he told his friend, “Sometimes I just really need coffee. Thanks for walking back to the coffee shop with me, though!”
“Thanks for bein’ there to walk back with, Tweak,” Butters grinned in return.
Tweek frowned a little as he twitched, coming around the counter to sit next to Butters, “If you don’t like Cartman kissing you…” he saw Butters’ cheery face fall, and it hurt, realising that he didn’t know the words to make that pain go away. He gave Butters’ hand a quick squeeze, “Then I’m around to say so to.”
“Aw, thanks buddy,” Butters hugged him, and Tweek put down his coffee to return the embrace with a quick sigh and a tight squeeze. he smiled, looking into the other boy’s bright green eyes.
Tweek picked up his coffee again, “H-hey, no problem, dude-“ he let out a sharp gasp and clutched his chest, “OH JESUS!!!!” he cried out. The mug crashed to the floor, and Tweek followed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to breathe.
“Tweek?! Tweek!” Butters cried out. His friend already looked like he was dying. He didn’t know what was wrong, but it took him only a second to realise that he had to do something. He snatched out his phone and dialled 911.
“Leo… Leo I... I…” Tweek’s cheeks were growing paler by the second, "Think my... Like it's on fire..."
“MY FRIEND IS DYING!” Butters screamed into the phone even as it was picked up, “He was just drinkin’ coffee and then grabbed his chest like it hurt and then he collapsed and he can’t hardly breathe or nothin’!” Tears welled up rapidly in his eyes and ran down his face, “Tweak Bros Coffee House… Yes, I know a bit of CPR… He’s 14 and a blond Caucasian male, so you can just hurry your sweet jigglies along right now!”
With the phone tucked between head and shoulder to follow instructions, he rolled Tweek onto his back, “Hold on, Constantine!” he begged, and opened his mouth, “It’s clear…” he locked his hands over Tweek’s chest and started pumping at two presses a second, counting under his breath.
Tweek’s mouth was opening and closing as he struggled for breath, his chest an inferno of icy pain. Still leaning over him, Butters continued to push on his heart, alleviating the agony slightly, his cheeks deeply flushed.
“Just… try an’ keep breathin, Tweek!” Butters begged.
Tweek managed another rasping gasp of air, more successful this time, but his chest still burned, “B-Butters… I don’t w-wanna die…” he hissed out, tears pouring down his face. The edges of his vision were turning grey and fuzzy. He could hardly see or think…
“You won’t! Gosh darnit, Tweek, you won’t!” Butters promised. He continued to pump on Tweek’s chest. He’d never wanted anybody to survive so much in his life.
“Hnngk!” Tweek choked a few times. He was breathing again but his heart still strained even as Butters got into a rhythm.
Still, the pain began to relieve itself. Did that mean he was dying? Oh god he was dying! He was going to die! He was going to Hell! He was…
Butters looked down at him, tears dripping from his long lashes as the blood began to return to his extremities, “Oh, thank Jesus Mary and Joseph, you’re still alive!” he choked out. As Tweek tried to sit, he shook his head, “Just lie back, I swear I won’t let you die!”
“Butters… thanks…” Tweek grimaced. His heart hurt to beat. But it wasn'tte same strain as before. He could breathe, but it kept fluttering all the same. He could hear a siren approaching, and then Butters took his hand.
The door to the coffee shop slammed open.
“Okay little boy, step back,” the paramedic moved the panting Butters out of the way and knelt over Tweek, asking him questions and checking his heartbeat. If his friend hadn’t been present, he could safely say that the terrified green eyed boy whose whose heart still strained and fluttered would already be dead.
Either way, they had to get both these kids to the hospital right now.
Breech: The point is that Tweek accidentally overdosed on Meth and suffered a heart failure. He thinks his parent’s Meth is some sort of special ingredient that makes their coffee so much better; he has never been told that it makes it highly addictive.
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A Happy Place Is Hard To Find