Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Abandoning their instruments at Tolkien’s house on the night of the Credigree gig turned out to be a blessing in disguise. They’re currently loading them into the music room so they can begin their first clandestine practice. Another blessing is that they all have the same free period on Monday when the music room happens to be free, but this is the only Monday they have until the competition. Eric doesn’t know how lucky they’re going to be for the rest of the week. But he’s not thinking too much about it right now. They have to take everything a day at a time, and then the contest will be here before they know it.

“This is everything, right?” Eric asks, surveying the room.

Tolkien nods, hands on his hips as he too looks around.

“Yep, that’s it.”

“What’s this all about, guys? Why can’t we practice at Credigree anymore?” Tweek asks. It’s the question that Eric has somehow managed to avoid for 24 hours.

He looks at Kyle, shoulders hunched guiltily.

“Yeah, that message in the group chat was kinda cryptic,” Tolkien adds, looking between the two of them.

Eric sighs, looking at Kyle again as he withdraws further into his shoulders.

“Should I tell them?” he asks because he doesn’t know if Kyle can bear it.

Kyle shakes his head and sighs too, eyes slipping shut.

“No, I got it.” He uncoils his crossed arms and looks warily at Tolkien and Tweek. “So basically, my parents grounded me because I went to Boulder with that girl Chloe from the gig, and…” he closes his eyes again. “As part of my punishment they said I can’t compete anymore-”

“Hence, we’re practicing here!” Eric cuts in, throwing his hands up and attempting to be jovial. But nobody laughs.

Tweek immediately starts worrying his thumb nail between his teeth, while Tolkien sighs and rubs his face.

“Shit, dude…” he murmurs, before looking up at Kyle. “Well, did at least go well with that Chloe chick?”

Kyle blinks, before standing up straight and shaking his head stiffly.

“No.” He rolls his eyes and fidgets. “I mean, it was okay, but not… great…”

“Are you gonna see her again?”

Kyle shakes his head again, jaw pulled tight.

“Probably not.”

“Anyway, that’s all in the past!” Eric declares, putting himself and Kyle out of their misery. “Let’s focus on the here and now, and yeah, this is a wrench, but we can easily work around it. We just have to practice every free period we can when the music room is available-”

“What?!” Tweek yelps. “What are the chances of that happening?”

Eric sighs heavily.

“It’s probably not that great, Tweek, but we have to stay positive!”

Tweek is quivering a little as he looks around the room, reading his bandmates faces and concluding that panicking and catastrophising is not appreciated right now. He nods quickly.

“Positive…” he closes his eyes as he nods vigorously again. “Right… positive…” Tweek is derailed from arriving at his happy place within seconds, eyes flying wide open again. “Shit, Kyle, how are you gonna compete on Saturday without your parents knowing?”

“I got it covered, Tweek, so don’t worry about it. I just need you guys to wait for me in Tolkien’s minivan at the end of my street on Saturday night.”

“Dude, what if you get caught?” Tolkien asks, and Eric tries not to glare at Tweek for his contagious panicking.

“That’s a chance I just have to take,” Kyle replies solemnly. “This band and this contest mean more to me than getting caught, so if it happens then… hopefully it happens after we play, and I’ll just have to deal with it.”

Tolkien nods, beaming sanguinely at him.

“We won’t let that happen, man.”

“No fucking way,” Eric adds, and before he can stop it, he’s clapping Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle jumps, just as surprised as Eric is by the gesture, but shoots him an appreciative smile that reaches his eyes.

Eric smiles too, before realising his hand is still on Kyle’s shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something but then thinks better of it, instead sliding his hand away and clapping them together.

“Alright, come on, let’s get to practicing already. Time is of the essence!”

As Eric hoped, as soon as they picked up their instruments it was like they were at Credigree again. Judging by the relieved, broad smiles on everyone’s faces as practice came to an end, they all feel the same way. They have a brief discussion about their free periods and how they sync up, and Eric promises he’ll sweet talk his music teacher into letting them use the room as much as they possibly can. She’s the only teacher he actually likes, and the only teacher who likes him. But Kyle, Tolkien and Tweek soon have to get to another class, and Eric does too, but it’s English, a class he thinks is pointless, boring, and taught by a teacher he hates so he’ll gladly dawdle.

He’s looking through his phone as he hears the door click shut behind him. But he’s not alone.

“Hey…”

Eric looks up from his phone to see that Kyle hasn’t left. In fact, he’s approaching him slowly, almost hesitantly. Eric’s brow furrows, puzzled, but he smiles, tucking his phone in his pants pocket and closing the gap between him and Kyle.

“Hey. That wasn’t too bad, right?”

Kyle shakes his head.

“No, no, I mean, I think we’re close to ready for Saturday. We just have to practice whenever we can to keep it up.”

“Exactly.” Eric nods, and his lungs still feel full of that exhilarating confidence. “So, have you and Ike hatched any plans to sneak you out yet?”

Kyle chuckles and nods.

“Yeah, we’re thinking of doing a Ferris Bueller thing, where we dress a dummy up in my clothes and have it wave whenever my mom comes in and checks on me. I’ll probably pretend to be sick, so I have an excuse to stay in my room sleeping.”

“Or you can pretend to be studying intensely so the dummy is like, hunched over your desk, concentrating when your mom comes in. I think your parents would buy that.”

“Yeah, I think they would. Apparently, I’ve been neglecting being the perfect student lately.” He rolls his eyes.

Eric snickers and rolls his eyes too.

“The horror…”

Kyle sighs, eyes searching the carpet.

“I know they only want the best for me. I just don’t think they realise how fun this all is. It’s been a nice break for me.”

Eric nods, pressing his lips together because things still feel precarious between him and Kyle, and it’s hard to know what to say at the moment, especially in response to an earnest confession like that. Instead, he thinks more about the dummy plan and a brilliant idea flashes in his mind.

“Hey, maybe the dummy could wear headphones too!”

Kyle blinks at him, pulled out of his thoughts before he comprehends and nods, laughing.

“Oh, that’s such a sweet detail.”

“Where is Ike going to acquire this dummy?”

“Amazon. He was pricing some up last night. Now I just need to figure out how I’m going to actually sneak out…”

Eric scoffs softly, eyebrows raising.

“Dude, you used to sneak out all the time when we were little!” he laughs.

Kyle raises his eyebrows at him.

“Emphasis on the word little.” He gestures to his tall, slender frame. “I’m more conspicuous now, and I’ve kind of forgotten how to do it.”

Eric snickers, conceding.

“Yeah, I can’t help you either. I’ve only ever broken into your room.”

Kyle rolls his eyes and chuckles, shaking his head.

“Oh my god, it’s so twisted that I…” Kyle’s eyes widen and the rest of his sentence freezes and then falls from his lips. He tries to shake his head casually. “Forget it.”

“What?” Eric asks, also trying to be casual and not let on how curious he is to hear what Kyle was going to say.

Kyle shakes his head, gulping hard. He even backs away from Eric a little.

“No, seriously, forget it.”

Eric makes a small, petulant huff. This is so not fair; Kyle can’t just leave him in suspense like that!

“Dude, you have to tell me-”

“Fine!” Kyle snaps, colour rushing to his cheeks. “I missed you last night. I… I didn’t realise how much I got used to you sleeping next to me.”

Kyle’s words get softer, his chin dips a little, and his face burns a deeper shade of red with every word. Now it’s Eric’s turn to freeze, but his insides feel like they’re on fire.

Kyle huffs, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

“So, come on. Commence the ripping.”

“No, I, uh…” Eric’s voice sounds so brittle, and he clears his throat. “Believe me, I could rip on you but…” he finds the courage to meet Kyle’s eyes. “Last night was weird for me too.”

True, Eric had a lot on his mind last night, enough to keep anyone awake. But the bed he’s slept in for years doesn’t feel like his anymore. He kept tossing and turning over, expecting to see Kyle sleeping next to him peacefully, and deflating when he remembers he’s not there.

“Oh…” Kyle whispers, gulping audibly again as he studies the walls. Finally, his eyes roll to the ceiling again and he buries his head in his hands. He drags them over his face. “I can’t believe how much I’ve fucked up.”

Eric frowns, stepping forward.

“Kyle-”

“What was I thinking?” Kyle cries, throwing his arms down at his sides and making Eric jump. “Chloe is a nice girl, but god, I should’ve never gone to Boulder without my parents knowing! What the fuck did I think was going to happen? That they would be totally fine with it? We’ve worked so hard and I almost ruined all of it! For some girl! No…” Kyle deflates and rolls his eyes again, another thing to castigate himself for. “No, I mean, she’s not some girl. It’s not her fault. I fucked it up if anything…”

Eric’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean?”

“I-I-It’s nothing, I just… when we got to her place something changed.” He lifts his gaze to Eric, and he looks ashamed. “It’s like a fog lifted and I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Well, how did she take it?”

“Oh, fine.” Kyle nods. “She was really cool.” He exhales heavily and his shoulders droop. “But then I started thinking about what I said to you.” His face is creased as he stares at Eric. “Cartman, I feel terrible about it. Especially now.”

Eric sighs. Kyle grovelling would have once been his fantasy, but the reality of it is far from appealing. It’s frustrating, and depressing, and needles at his heart. He shakes his head and tries to step closer again.

“Kyle, it’s okay-”

“No, it’s not!” Kyle cries, backing away like he’s rejecting Eric’s comfort, his forgiveness. “We’ve said really fucked up things to each other over the years, but I don’t want to do that anymore. Then I said what I said and now we’re not even supposed to hang out and it’s my fault!” He hangs his head, shattered. “It’s all my fault-”

Before he can continue, Eric pulls him into a tight hug. If holding Kyle close and trapping him in his arms is the only way that he’ll accept his comfort, then that’s what he’s going to do. Kyle freezes, and all Eric can hear is their hitched breathing and his heart racing.

“Kyle, in the nicest possible way, shut the fuck up and stop apologising. I forgive you, understand?”

Kyle doesn’t move or say anything for a while, but finally he nods and manages to free his arms so he can return the hug. His fingers claw into Eric’s back and he buries his head into his shoulder. Clearly, this is something Kyle has been needing, and Eric will gladly give it to him. Eric smiles, inclines his head, and presses his hands against Kyle’s back, savouring the feeling of warm skin beneath Kyle’s clothes. He savours all of it – the smell of Kyle’s hair, their bodies pressed together, his fingers digging into him, because when is this going to happen again? Eric may never have him in the way he wants him, and some day that will be fine. But for now, he has to cherish whatever he can get.

He tries not to listen to the small, nagging voice in his head that tells him Kyle is going to pull away any minute. The minutes slip away but Kyle doesn’t let him go. He doesn’t speak, and his breathing is hypnotic, making it hard for Eric to open his eyes. It’s like a game of chicken, and Eric is more than up for the challenge. He won’t let go until Kyle does.

A couple more blissful minutes later, Kyle clears his throat gently and pulls away. But his movements are slow and careful, and Eric can barely breathe when Kyle’s fingertips slide down his arms, eyes locked. It’s like they’re both in a trance, but Kyle soon remembers himself, blinking and averting his gaze. Colour once again rushes to his face, and Eric can feel the warmth on his own cheeks.

“I’d better go,” Kyle whispers, almost apologetically. “I’ve got biology.”

Eric nods as he tries to find his words.

“Oh yeah, totally, you’d better go…” he finally replies. He watches Kyle head to the door. “The perfect student can’t be late, after all,” he teases.

Kyle looks over his shoulder.

“Huh?” Kyle asks, before it clicks, and he chuckles. “Oh yeah…” he opens the door and shoots him one last smile. “See you later, Cartman.”

“Later, Kyle,” Cartman murmurs, watching Kyle leave.

He’s in the room alone now but he can’t move. It’s like he’s still in that confusing, wonderful embrace.

It’s the night of the competition, and Tolkien has parked the minivan at the end of Kyle’s street. Eric, Tolkien, Tweek, Nichole and Craig perch in the crowded minivan, waiting with bated breath to see if Kyle’s escape plan has worked.

“What time is it?” Eric asks, sick of checking his phone, of seeing the minutes slip away and no Kyle.

“Eight-o-five,” Tolkien replies from the driver’s seat.

Eric grumbles under his breath and resists the urge to drag his hands through his styled hair.

“Shit…” he mutters. “He was supposed to be here at eight.”

Nichole sighs from the passenger seat, craning her neck to look at Eric in the rear-view mirror.

“It’s only five minutes, Cartman, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Eric makes a small, helpless huffing sound and it immediately takes him back to childhood, when he was told ‘no’ by some force bigger than him, and his only course of action was to wail and stomp his feet until he got his own way. But he can’t do that now. He can’t help Kyle without drawing suspicion, and they’re meant to be having some distance from each other. He just has to sit there and wait – which admittedly isn’t his strong suit – and believe in Kyle, which is getting easier and easier to do.

“But how do we know if it’s worked or not?” He shakes his head and reaches for his phone. “I’m gonna message him-”

“No, dude!” Tweek cuts in. “That could be the very thing that gets him caught!”

“Wait, I think I see him…” Tolkien says. “Yeah, there he is!”

Eric flies out of his seat and trips over their instruments as he tries to get a closer look. He hears Tweek fretting and Craig grumbling, but Eric doesn’t care. He doesn’t even acknowledge the small irritable huff Tolkien makes as he grabs his headrest and gives it a tug. All he cares about is Kyle, who is stepping into the headlights of Tolkien’s van, triumphant and smiling.

Eric chews his lip, prickling with excitement.

“Yes!” he exclaims, giving Tolkien’s headrest another tug but before Tolkien can curse him out, the back door to the minivan opens.

Eric whips around and sees Kyle standing there, all dressed up and grinning. Eric’s shoulders soften, a grin spreads across his face and he’s hit with such a heady wave of relief at seeing Kyle’s face that it’s hard to keep his balance. Everyone cheers as Kyle clambers into the van, and Eric moves quickly so he can sit beside him.

“Hey, keep it down, assholes!” Eric snaps when the cheering gets too raucous. “We don’t wanna draw any attention to ourselves.” He beams at Kyle and claps his shoulder. “Glad you could make it, dude.”

“Thanks,” Kyle replies, sheepish and contemplative like he’s been all week.

“How did you pull it off, man?” Tolkien asks.

“Yeah, did you go for the sick dummy or the studying dummy?” Eric adds.

Kyle sighs and rolls his eyes, but his sheepish smile doesn’t waver.

“The studying dummy.”

“Yes!” Eric grins with a small fist pump. “I told you that would work!”

Kyle smiles, so unabashedly fond that it extinguishes Eric’s smugness. His smile wilts and he flushes, avoiding Kyle’s gaze.

“Alright, Battle of The Bands here we come!” Tolkien exclaims, and with a new round of cheers they peel away from the sidewalk.

They soon arrive at the forum, the parking lot filled with the familiar vans of the bands who made it through to the competition stage (a Tegridy Farms minivan being one of them), as well as other cars that belong to the crowd. As they step out of the van Eric can see the line of concertgoers snaking around the building, smoking, and laughing, and chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Eric feels like a rockstar all over again, and the giddy, electric confidence that accompanies that feeling zaps the butterflies in his stomach. Rockstars don’t get nervous, after all.

They slip into the backstage area, where event organizers are rushing around with clipboards and talking frantically into their earpieces, and the members of the competing bands are lounging around, either tuning their instruments carefully or with their arms around giggling audience members who they plucked from the line outside and brought backstage. This only encourages Eric to subdue his nerves. If they’re not fazed, why should he be? Eric notices Kyle’s gaze lingering on some lanky frontman with long, blond hair, his arm around a giggling girl wearing a t-shirt with the frontman’s face on it. Perhaps he’s thinking about Chloe, their disastrous night, and how he actually thought he could be like one of those preening, smug frontmen. Eric gives Kyle’s arm an encouraging tug, pulling him away.

Even after their hug in the music room, Eric can tell the Credigree gig, and what Kyle said to him, is still playing on Kyle’s mind. He’s been unusually quiet and staring at Eric a lot. Eric wouldn’t mind, except it’s not in the way he would want Kyle to stare at him. He wants Kyle to stare at him and see his eyes crinkle in the corners from the weight of his smile, or – in his wildest dreams – watch his eyes darken with arousal. He doesn’t want Kyle to stare at him like he’s trying to dig into his very soul. Or like he’s scared of him. Unfortunately, those are the only ways Eric can describe Kyle’s stares in his direction this week. He hopes that after the contest is over things will return to normal, or they’ll both have the headspace to properly address what the hell is going on with Kyle.

They run into Crimson Dawn soon enough, which seems to lift Kyle’s spirits. Eric has to admit they look great in their all-black outfits of trench coats, combat boots and Crimson Dawn t-shirts, paired with shiny gelled hair that skims their eyebrows (except for Butters, who has his hair styled in an impressive mohawk). It actually reminds Eric that he has to do Kyle’s make-up and also finish off his own, as he lost track of time when getting ready at the hotdog and before he could even start on his eye make-up Tolkien’s minivan was beeping for him outside.

Eric and Kyle actually find an area backstage that has a mirror, adequate lighting and – most importantly – peace and quiet where Eric can concentrate and not get jostled about by anybody. They don’t talk much as Eric does Kyle’s make-up, which actually suits Eric fine. But he keeps getting distracted by Kyle’s stare, that’s following him like the subject of a creepy painting. Eric’s voice is weak and barely above a whisper when he asks Kyle to look up so he can apply some eyeliner to his bottom lid, relieved to have Kyle’s gaze off him.

Once Kyle’s make-up is done, Eric quickly moves on to his. With performance time drawing nearer and the sounds of the other band’s sets in the distance, the once zapped butterflies are coming to life again in his stomach.

“Dude, how much longer is this going to take?” Kyle asks, sitting in an armchair so old and sunken it’s more like a beanbag. “They’re going to call us on stage any minute!”

Eric huffs irritably, applying more silver glitter to his eyelids.

“I’m going as fast as I can. Somebody needed me to do their makeup for them.” He directs a wry smile at Kyle who doesn’t say anything, biting the inside of his cheek. “Why don’t you go hang out with Tolkien and Tweek?”

Kyle shrugs.

“I’m cool,” he replies, eyes wandering to Eric in that contemplative way, almost daring Eric to react. “I’d rather stay here.”

Eric gulps and tears his gaze away, putting the final touches on his make-up is a perfect distraction… even if he is rushing and his mind keeps wandering to a certain someone. He applies a couple of coats of mascara to really make the look pop and sighs.

“There! All done.” He turns to Kyle. “How does it look?”

Kyle blinks, relieved that Eric is ready in time for the performance. He sits up straight and reminds Eric of a dog who has heard they’re about to receive a treat or go for a walk.

“Great.” He nods.

Eric isn’t convinced. He looks in the mirror again and can’t help but feel he looked better the night of the Credigree gig.

“Ugh. I know it’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do.”

“Are you serious?” Kyle asks with an incredulous chuckle. He gets to his feet. “Cartman, it looks fantastic.”

The earnest comment sends a shiver down Eric’s spine. He looks at Kyle and is even more unnerved by Kyle’s bright, hopeful eyes and unsure smile, so doesn’t say anything. He really doesn’t know how to handle this, so returns his attention to the mirror again, scrutinising his reflection.

Kyle deflates beside him, and he moves so he’s leaning against the wall, arms folded.

“Hey, have you heard from Berklee at all?”

Eric sighs through his nose, turning one cheek to the mirror and then the other.

“No, not yet. “

Honestly, that’s been the last thing on his mind.

“Oh…” Kyle whispers, before standing up straighter. “Oh, well, it’s only been a week, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Eric murmurs, before grinning at Kyle. “This might be a viable back-up career though, right? Make-up artist.”

Kyle blinks, before chuckling and rolling his eyes.

“Oh, totally.” He looks down, rubbing his lips together before studying Eric with his own scrutinising stare. “But I would be so pissed if they didn’t even give you an audition.”

Eric loses his nerve and drops his stare. He wants to relish these compliments from Kyle, but something about them rubs him up the wrong way, and maybe that’s because he’s not entirely sure where they’re coming from.

“It’s their loss, I guess,” Eric mumbles, busying himself with packing away his make-up kit.

But he feels Kyle’s gaze boring holes in him. When Eric looks up, Kyle has this patient look on his face, so clearly waiting for something but Eric has no idea what. Or, at least, what he hopes Kyle wants from him he can’t believe is true. It’s too dangerous, and he’s not going to get hurt again. It’s like staring into the sun, so he looks in the mirror again, and sees his clueless face staring back.

Kyle sighs.

“Cartman, you look great.”

Eric sighs to himself too, shaking his head. The comment sends heat rushing to his cheeks and his heart fluttering in his chest, but he can’t get carried away.

“Dude, fuck off,” he replies with a soft snicker, to deflect Kyle’s words.

“What?” Kyle asks, trying to be neutral but Eric can detect the hurt in his voice. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are, but just quit it, okay?” Eric starts shoving his make-up into his bag a little more forcefully.

Kyle peels himself away from the wall.

“Quit what? I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“But you do!” Eric snaps, making Kyle jump. “Drop the act, Kyle, I already said I forgive you.”

Kyle folds his arms tightly and stares at Eric, hard.

“Okay, I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Eric replies, with a derisive roll of his eyes. “Like all these weird compliments, and long stares are not because of some leftover guilt.”

Kyle blinks, like the words are a poison dart and now the venom is spreading through his bloodstream.

“What?”

“You haven’t exactly been subtle, Kyle! It’s not like you and totally unnecessary, so please just drop it.”

Kyle is scowling, trembling with anger and Eric doesn’t know if he’s reddened because he’s embarrassed or pissed off.

“That’s not what I’ve been doing at all!” he cries. “God, you think you’re so fucking smart when you actually have no idea!”

Eric is glad to see a Kyle he’s more familiar with return, but he’s not going to let him pretend this is anything other than a self-imposed guilt trip and overcompensation. He scoffs.

“No idea? Okay, Kyle, come on.” Eric rests one hand on the dressing table and another on his hip. He sneers. “Enlighten me.”

Kyle is trembling harder than ever now. His nostrils are flared, his lips are drawn together in a scowl and his hands have actually curled into fists at his sides. Eric wilts a little, legitimately scared that Kyle is going to hit him and that he’s pushed him too far before he lunges at Eric and instead grabs his face and smashes their lips together.

Eric freezes for a second, eyes widening and actually crossing when he realises Kyle’s hands are cupping his face, and his lips are fused with his. But then he realises he has to do something before Kyle pulls back, so he stands up straight, finds Kyle’s waist and slips his eyes shut, pressing back just as hard, and when they need to come up for air they share shaky gasps, noses squished together.

“There.” Kyle gulps, voice humid and dark eyes connecting with Eric’s. “Does that explain-”

Eric cuts Kyle off by tugging him by his shirt and crashing their lips together again because, no, he doesn’t need any explanations, he just needs to kiss Kyle again. Kyle seems to have no objections, throwing his arms around Eric’s shoulders and prying open his mouth with his tongue, kissing Eric back so hard that they lose their balance, but Eric catches Kyle before he can fall, daring to let one hand wander lower and squeeze Kyle’s ass. Eric’s knees liquefy at the fake leather crinkling beneath his palm and Kyle gasps, hot and heavy, through his nose. Kyle’s hand, meanwhile, has wandered into Eric’s hair, and when he grabs a handful, it crunches with product.

They’re panting when they come up for air, lips gleaming, and eyes lidded and smouldering. They dive in for more kisses, brief and soft, but eager and explorative. Eric wants to kiss every inch of Kyle’s lips – from the corners, to his cupid’s bow, and the fullest part of his bottom lip. All the things that are making Eric nervous, the music coming from the stage and the crowd cheering, are all drowned out by Kyle’s ragged breath and gentle moans and whimpers.

“Guys?”

They’re snapped out of their reverie by Tolkien’s timid voice.

“Shit!” Kyle yelps, jumping back from Eric as if he’s been electrocuted.

“H-h-hey, bros,” Eric replies at a startled, high octave. He has no idea what to do with his hands. “What’s up?”

Tolkien and Tweek share uncomfortable looks.

“Three Line Whip are finishing up,” Tolkien informs them.

Eric swallows, hard. If anything is going to make him snap out of his post-kiss, blissful haze it’s that.

“Awesome.” He nods. “Let’s go.”

Tolkien and Tweek give them small smiles, and they begin to make their way to the stage. Eric can tell Kyle is trying very hard not to look at him, and he notices Kyle adjusting the crotch of his pants. Eric hangs back, watching Kyle follow Tolkien and Tweek. He’s sure they’ll address what just happened after the performance, but he needs some acknowledgement of it now, he has to know Kyle is cool before they go out there.

“Kyle?”

Kyle stops and looks over his shoulder, and Eric realises he has no idea what he was going to say.

“If you’ve ruined my make-up, I swear to god…”

Kyle gives him a wry smile, walking over to Eric. His eyes roam his face before he swipes his bottom lip with his thumb.

“There.” He grins. “Perfect.”

Eric returns the grin, and they jog to catch up with Tolkien and Tweek. Behind the stage curtain the crowd sounds louder than ever, the spotlights blinding even through the tiny gaps in the curtains. Tweek is chewing his lip and clutching his drumsticks, and Tolkien and Kyle sling their respective instruments around their necks.

“This is it, you guys,” Tweek says, half-excited, half-dreading this.

Tolkien claps him on the shoulder encouragingly.

“Kyle?”

Kyle blinks, he’s staring at the curtains as if he can see right through them too.

“Yeah?”

“Aren’t you going to give some rousing speech?” Tolkien asks, eyebrow arched.

“Oh…” Kyle whispers, before quickly nodding. “Oh, yeah, sure, um…”

Eric smiles at him fondly, before raising his hand.

“Tolkien, if I may, I’d like to give the rousing speech?”

Tolkien blinks, before nodding. Kyle just looks relieved.

“Sure, man. Go ahead.”

Eric sighs, beaming at his bandmates who are bubbling over with nerves.

“Listen, you guys, I could remind you of how awesome we are, or how far we’ve come, or how we deserve that win just as much as any other band out there, but you know all that. So instead, I want to say something that, to be honest, doesn’t come super easy to me, and that’s thanks.” He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I have the song writing ability, and the singing ability, but I would never have gotten this far without you guys. You really didn’t have to help me, but you did. I once just saw you as assholes who went to my school, but now we’re bandmates for life.” He smiles. “Hopefully we’ll all be leaving South Park soon and moving onto bigger and better things, but I’m so fucking grateful that this is what I did with my remaining few months here. Yeah, winning this contest is my ticket out of the hotdog… but being in this band with you has made me so much more optimistic about my future. I can now look beyond that dumb fucking hotdog, and that’s incredible. So, thanks, you guys.”

Everyone is beaming now, and Eric hopes he has at least instilled some pride in them if not made their nerves totally disappear. The beam that resonates the most, of course, is Kyle’s, and when Kyle places a hand on his back, Eric feels a lot calmer.

“ You guys ready for our next band?” The MC – who was also the head judge at their audition – cheers.

The crowd roars.

“ That’s what we like to hear! Alright, give it up for… Moop!”

The crowd roars again and with one last bracing breath Eric walks out onto the stage, squinting at the spotlights that obscure the packed audience. Still, he’s able to find his way over to the keyboard.

“ Battle of The Bands , how we feelin’ tonight?!” Eric exclaims, thankful his voice didn’t waver under the weight of his nerves.

The crowd roars again and breaks out in applause, and Eric grins. He can feel his make-up melting off already due to his anxious sweating and the searing spotlights.

“Alright, well, we’re Moop and this is Rockin’ The Suburbs .”

The cheers of the crowd are soon dampened by the opening to the song.

“ Let me tell y’all what it’s like, being male, middle-class, and white. It’s a bitch if you don’t believe, listen up to my new CD…”

The next few minutes go by in a blur, Eric’s nerves evaporating and as the seconds go by. He wishes he could steal a couple more, as his confidence grows the longer they’re out there. The crowd are jumping up and down, there are clamouring hands reaching out for them, and as the song draws to a close some people are belting out the lyrics alongside Eric. Yet that isn’t what Eric is focusing on. He’s focusing on Tweek annihilating the drums, and eventually throwing his wig into the crowd when it keeps sticking to his face. He’s focusing on Tolkien singing the lyrics to himself as he nails the guitar, and of course Kyle, who looks more carefree and happier than Eric has seen him all week.

When the song is finished, Eric’s throat is sore, his skin is boiling, and the room is vibrating from the applause, and cheers, and stomping feet. Eric feels like his ass is glued to the stool at his keyboard, even if he wanted to move, he doesn’t know if he could. But Kyle taps his shoulder as they need to exit the stage. They have to make way for Crimson Dawn , after all. Eric waves at the crowd one last time, generating another ripple of cheers.

They’re all panting when they return backstage, bracing themselves on their knees. They’re individually reeling, but when their eyes meet, they all fall into disbelieving, ecstatic chuckles, and collapse into a group hug.

“We fucking did it, you guys!” Eric exclaims.

“I feel like I’ve just ran a marathon,” Tweek adds, still catching his breath. His hair is more wayward than ever.

Eric chuckles in agreement. He doesn’t know what happens now, all he knows is there is nothing left for them to do. Weeks of practice, of hard work, of heartache and memories he’ll cherish forever have all been crammed into four minutes on stage and now they just have to wait.

“That was awesome! You guys were fucking incredible out there! Tolkien, you were fucking shredding that guitar, man, and Tweek you crushed those drums, and throwing your wig into the audience was so fucking cool, and Kyle…” One look at Kyle and he has no words. “I mean…”

Kyle just smiles at him sheepishly.

“Uhh… come on, Tweek, let’s go find Nichole and Craig,” Tolkien says.

Tweek nods.

“G-g-good idea. We’ll catch up with you guys later,” he adds, giving them a quick wave before scurrying after Tolkien.

“Well?” Kyle teases, still smiling. He folds his arms. “I’m pretty sure you were about to compliment me.”

Eric nods, with a shy, albeit emboldened smile of his own because now is the perfect time to tell Kyle exactly how he feels. 

“Yeah, I was.” He steps closer to Kyle, looking into his eyes. “Kyle, I’ve made it no secret that I’m super grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I couldn’t have done this without you. We wouldn’t be here tonight if it wasn’t for you-”

“Well, we almost weren’t,” Kyle points out guiltily, rolling his eyes.

“Right, but that doesn’t matter anymore.” He becomes more serious. “All the bad shit that happened that night, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Kyle nods, and Eric can almost see the words sinking into his skin. His eyes are gleaming.

“Totally.”

“But the reason I freaked out so much is because I was terrified of losing you.” Eric watches Kyle’s face fall a little, but he’s not deterred. “We’ve been friends forever but it’s only over these past few weeks that I’ve realised just how amazing of a friend you are. You were right under my nose this entire time, and I’m such a fucking dumbass for not noticing that…” he looks at his sliver platform shoes to gear himself up for what he’s about to say, before meeting Kyle’s eyes. “For not noticing you. And I have noticed you, Kyle. I’ve noticed things about you that scared me, and confused me, and it was killing me trying to hide that from you. But then… what happened before the show-”

“I’ve been confused too, Cartman,” Kyle admits, and it all comes out in a rush, like he’s been holding it in for a while.

Eric blinks. Maybe that was what he was trying to communicate to Eric with those long stares.

“You have?”

Kyle nods, and his smile crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“Anyway, the point is, after we… kissed… I’m not scared anymore.” He smiles dreamily and takes a deep breath. “So, I just want to tell you, Kyle, that I-”

“Kyle Broflovski!”

The perfect moment is shattered by a familiar, terrifying voice. They both freeze and Kyle looks petrified.

“Shit…” they say in unison before Eric turns around.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Mrs Broflovski demands, storming over to them. Kyle’s dad is also in tow, not looking pleased at all, and Ike is scurrying behind them. “You’re supposed to be grounded!”

Ike shakes his head, face creased.

“Kyle, I’m sorry, man, I tried to cover for you I really did-”

“You be quiet, young man, you’re in enough trouble as it is!” Mrs Broflovski snaps.

Kyle’s shoulders draw up again, and Eric can see his mood plummeting from euphoria to dread.

“So how long have you guys been here?” he asks, scratching at his arm.

“We got here just as your performance was starting,” Mr Broflovski replies, voice and face stern.

Eric blinks, a flicker of hope.

“Well… did you think it was good?” he asks.

Kyle’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush like Eric just asked his parents the most inappropriate question ever.

“Cartman!”

Eric frowns at Kyle, shrugging, because what has he got to lose?

Mrs Broflovski blinks, also staring at Eric like he’s just said the most scandalous thing ever.

“Did we think it was good?!” she exclaims, shrill and her hairdo wobbling. “It was… it was… incredible!”

Okay, Eric was not expecting that. He and Kyle slowly turn to look at each other, eyes wide, to confirm that just happened and that they didn’t imagine it.

“Really?” Kyle asks, raising his eyebrows at his mom.

She nods, hairdo wobbling again. Her hands are clasped under her chin and she’s beaming despite herself.

Mr Broflovski sighs, nodding begrudgingly.

“We had no idea you could play like that, son,” he says with a smile.

“You crushed it, man!” Ike adds.

“You were amazing, you were all amazing! To think you wrote that all by yourselves…” Mrs Broflovski squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head again. “But that’s not the point!” Her eyes open, gleaming with hurt. “How could you go behind our backs like that, Kyle?”

“Honestly, Kyle, it’s one thing to sneak out while you’re grounded but to drag your brother into it too!” When Kyle bows his head, Mr Broflovski rounds on Eric. His furious face makes him flinch. “Are you happy now? You’ve led Kyle astray and now our youngest son is lying to us!”

“Dad!” Kyle cries indignantly.

Eric sighs and places a gentle hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

“No, Kyle, it’s okay.” He steps closer to Kyle’s parents, for the first time in his life feeling bad for disrespecting and deceiving people who have been nothing but good to him. He wonders if this is something most teenagers go through, when they know they’ve fucked up and upset their parents. “To answer your question, sir, I’m not happy. You guys have been so good to me lately, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hate that I’ve let you down, because this is not how I wanted to pay you back for letting me stay over your house practically every night. Kyle has disappointed you, I know that, but you should be so proud of him.” A smile spreads helplessly across Eric’s face. “He is so talented – hell, you just saw how talented he is! – and he’s smart, and one of the best people I know, and I’m sure that’s a testament to your parenting. He’s been there for me more than anyone ever has, and that’s why he snuck out tonight. Not to annoy you, or defy you, or whatever, but because his friend needed him.” He raises his eyebrows at Mr Broflovski. “I know it’s none of my business, but he shouldn’t be punished for that.”

Eric’s eyebrows can’t help but inch a little further up his forehead as the furious faces of Kyle’s parents soften. They look between Kyle and Eric and then at each other, as if in telepathic conversation.

Eric sighs, turning to Kyle and shaking his head, because he doesn’t know if he’s done enough.

“Dude, you can go home, if you want. If that’s what your parents want. I’ll let you know la-”

“No…” Mr Broflovski interjects, eyes slipping shut. “No, Kyle, you can stay.”

Kyle’s eyebrows shoot skyward.

“I can?”

“Sure.” Mr Broflovski shrugs. “You’re already out now, right?” he says with a weak chuckle, beaming at Kyle.

Kyle chuckles too, nodding with a grateful smile.

Mrs Broflovski looks on the verge of tears.

“We are so proud of you, Kyle,” she says, before wrapping Kyle up in an asphyxiating hug.

“Thanks, ma,” he wheezes, arms trapped.

She soon releases him, still squeezing his shoulders and looking into his eyes. She then turns to Eric, eyes still gleaming.

“And Eric, you should be very proud too.”

Eric nods, hands slipping shyly behind his back.

“Thanks, Mrs Broflovski.”

“It’s a pleasure to have you over, dear. You’re welcome anytime.”

Eric chuckles, eyes slipping shut.

“I know. Thanks.”

“Alright, so we’ll be in the audience,” Mr Broflovski says, clapping his hands together. “Good luck, boys!”

“Yeah, good luck, you guys!” Ike adds, before they leave to find good spots in the crowd. Eric and Kyle stare after them for a few seconds.

“That was…” Kyle is shaking his head, trying to find the words. “Incredible.”

The tips of Eric’s ears burn, and he snickers, giving Kyle a playful shove.

“Hey, I meant it.”

Kyle rakes his gaze over Eric, before tilting his chin with a smirk.

“You know, you’re getting real good at the gay speeches.”

Eric snickers, closing the gap between them.

“Giving you a run for your money, huh?”

Kyle snickers, before his smirk fades.

“You were going to say something before my parents-”

Eric squeezes his eyes shut and nods.

“Right, right... Kyle, I-”

“Hey, you guys!” A rather hoarse voice exclaims.

Eric rolls his eyes to the ceiling and sighs.

“Can’t finish a sentence, apparently,” he mutters.

Kyle gives Eric a consoling look, before turning his attention to Stan and Kenny approaching them.

“Hey!”

“You guys fucking killed it!” Kenny grins.

“How did we do?” Stan asks eagerly, practically bouncing on his toes.

Shit, they totally forgot to listen to their performance. But they had bigger things to deal with!

“Oh, great.” Kyle nods rapidly, not making eye contact with Stan and Kenny and clearly wanting to move the conversation along. “Yeah, you guys sounded great.”

Kenny raises his eyebrows, gaze flitting between Eric and Kyle.

“Were you even listening?”

Eric shakes his head and Kyle winces.

“Sorry, there was a lot going on.”

“Like what?” Stan asks, with a hard, affronted edge to his voice.

“We’ll tell you later,” Eric replies, giving Kyle a small nudge.

Luckily, Kenny and Stan don’t press for more information, and they all head out into the auditorium to watch the other bands perform, finding Tolkien, Tweek, Nichole, Bebe, Craig, Jimmy, and Butters in the crowd. Listening to the other bands and ripping on each other for their dancing quietens Eric’s nerves for about an hour until all the bands are called back on stage for the winner to be announced. All huddled together on the stage, Eric is sure the close contact is generating some anxious static shock between them all.

“This is it, everybody, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The MC announces. “We’ve had some incredible acts tonight, but only one will go on to win the fifty thousand dollar cash prize and one free recording session at Spinney Mountain Records . The winner of this year’s Battle of The Bands is…”

Eric plows through a million thoughts in five seconds, namely: Please let it be us, please let it be us, it has to be us, we were the best, right? No, we weren’t, it can’t be us, it has to be somebody else. It has to be us, it has to be us, it has to be-

“Moop!”

The crowd goes wild, and Eric drops to his knees, the vibrations travelling up his legs. He buries his head in his hands, but he doesn’t care about his make-up. He doesn’t even care about Kyle, Tolkien and Tweek going crazy beside him, hugging each other, and laughing uncontrollably because they won!

Oh my god, we won…

All of a sudden, he feels a pair of hands dragging him to his feet, and he sees Kyle’s grinning, delighted face in front of him.

“We won, dude!”

Eric can’t speak. His eyes are stinging, and everything around Kyle is blurry, and his throat has closed. Instead, he makes this weird, choked-off whimper and pulls Kyle into his arms, squeezing him tighter than even his mom did earlier, but Kyle gladly throws his arms around him. Kyle buries his head in his shoulder, and through the flimsy material of his catsuit he can feel Kyle’s fingers boring into his shoulder blades. He holds him just like he did in the music room, and Eric wants to be hugged like this forever. He squeezes his eyes shut, nestling into Kyle’s neck, and never wanting to let him go. He never wants this moment to be over, with Kyle in his arms and victory ringing in his ears. He just has to say it. Now is the perfect moment.

He lifts his head and tilts it, so his cheek is pressed against Kyle’s.

“You know I like you, right?” he says in Kyle’s ear, and he can feel his heart hammering against Kyle’s, but Kyle’s is beating just as fast. “Like, a lot. ”

Kyle nods, chuckles wetly and presses a discreet kiss to Eric’s cheek, but it’s enough to have Eric falling to the floor. Good thing he has Kyle to hold him up. Eric chuckles too and presses Kyle closer, swaying a little in giddy disbelief, before Tolkien and Tweek get in on the hug too. He loves everyone in the room right now, but nobody more than these three guys… and one guy in particular.

Even hours after Moop were announced the winners of Battle of The Bands , Eric and the whole band are still riding that high. Tolkien invited everyone back to his place to celebrate, even Crimson Dawn . Their animosity was set aside long ago of course, but still, inviting one of the losing bands to your victory party could make for an uncomfortable evening. Crimson Dawn were naturally disappointed, but Eric supposes losing to a band that is comprised of their friends makes the defeat sting a little less… and if they had both lost out, they could have had a commiseration party where they drink bitterly and bitch about the band that did win. Eric starts to contemplate that maybe he was a bit harsh on Crimson Dawn , and that they could have been allies this whole time. But he was smarting for a while after Stan and Kenny signed up for the contest without him, and there is no room for friendship in competition.

But all that is set aside at Credigree Farms, where Eric is buzzing with victory, and residual adrenaline, and of course absolute delight that what he couldn’t possibly believe was true turned out to be, well, true. Kyle likes him too. Now he’s the one who can’t stop staring at Kyle, in total disbelief that they kissed, and it was amazing, and more than Eric dreamed. They sit close to each other all night, with Eric’s arm draped around the back of the couch, a few inches away from Kyle’s shoulders. Nobody comments on this, but Eric finds it hard to believe that they are oblivious. They must know something is up and realise that now is not the right time to comment. Tolkien and Tweek may have told Nichole and Craig about their kiss and the news spread from there, but Eric doesn’t care. He doesn’t think anything could bother him right now. Kenny and Bebe keep stealing knowing, delighted grins with him and Stan is saying very little. Eric knows that is something they’ll have to deal with later but, hey, he doesn’t care right now.

When Kyle asks him if he wants to head out, Eric has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself responding too eagerly. Before they go though, Eric asks Tolkien if he can borrow something, and keeps Kyle waiting in the hallway. When Eric returns from Tolkien’s room, acoustic guitar in hand, he descends the stairs beaming. Kyle is leaning against a wall and scrolling through his phone, but Eric soon catches his attention. He peels himself away, a puzzled smile on his face.

“Hey, what’s with the guitar?”

Eric lifts his chin.

“You’ll see. I have something special planned.”

Kyle raises his eyebrows. Eric can tell he’s trying to be nonchalant.

“I can hardly wait.”

The drive to Kyle’s house is a quiet one. They’re both pretty beat and it’s the first time they’ve been alone for a few hours. Eric doesn’t know about Kyle but now that they’re alone he really wants to kiss him, but that is highly impractical at the moment.

It’s 3am, so the only sources of light in Kyle’s street are the sparse streetlights and the headlights of his car. His house is completely dark, his parents long gone to bed, but Ike may still be up, his room is solely lit by his computer screen. When they enter the living room, Kyle doesn’t switch any lights on so as not to disturb anybody but finds Eric’s hand and leads him up the stairs, relying on memory. Although they kissed earlier, that unexpected, gentle contact in the dark feels so intimate, and sends a shiver down Eric’s spine.

They make it to Kyle’s bedroom, and Kyle fumbles for the door handle. Eric is standing right behind him, squeezing the neck of the guitar. The scent of hairspray and Kyle’s coconut shampoo is in his nose, and he really wants to fucking kiss him. Once the door opens with a small creak, Eric presses Kyle against the doorjamb, and a small, surprised huff sounds in the dark. Eric doesn’t know where his hand is – he thinks Kyle’s arm – but he soon slides it upward, over Kyle’s shoulder, his neck, his jaw and then his fingers are in his hair. Eric leans in closer and finds Kyle’s mouth by using his hot breath as a guide, and Kyle readily kisses back. Kyle’s hands land on Eric’s chest, blindly reaching for him but then digging his fingers into him when he likes what he’s found. It’s easy to get carried away in the dark, soon Eric is kissing the corner of Kyle’s mouth, then his jaw, then his neck.

“Wait…” Kyle gasps. “Wait, what about this special thing you have planned?”

Eric almost forgot about the guitar in his hand. He grumbles, wanting to see where this goes but now that he has a guitar and Kyle is expecting something from him, anxiety is setting in.

“I can show you that tomorrow.” He smiles into Kyle’s neck.

Kyle huffs and grips Eric’s shirt tighter, tugging him so their noses bump together.

“No, I wanna hear it now.”

Eric grumbles again, hoping it disguises how nervous he is.

“Fine…”

With that, Kyle switches the light on and seeing his flushed, self-satisfied face and the pink blotches where Eric eagerly kissed his neck quiets his nerves somewhat. He bites his lip as he makes his way over to his bed. He notices the dummy still slouched in his desk chair and huffs impatiently, picking it up and tossing it in his closet before finally sitting on his bed, plopping down on it with a flourish and beckoning Eric over to it with raised eyebrows. Eric snickers, ducks his head before joining Kyle on the bed. He doesn’t look at him as he gets the guitar in position, propping it up on his bent leg.

“Okay, so…” Eric begins, trying to tune the guitar although trying to do two things at once is hard when your stomach is full of butterflies, so he has no idea if he’s doing it correctly. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while how I feel but… I’m not as good with words as you are. Or, at least, I’m not as good with words that I can’t set to music and… I didn’t want to just tell you how I feel, I wanted to show you. But then you kissed me, and I couldn’t wait anymore so I was like, fuck it, I’ll just tell him.” Eric is breathless, and Kyle makes a small, amused hum. His eyes keep flitting between the guitar and Eric’s face. “Still, I’ve been practicing this for a while so it seems a shame for me not to show you. Okay, so…” Eric clears his throat, adjusts the guitar in his lap. “Here we go…”

While Eric has practiced this song a lot, guitar still isn’t his forte so he’s very much focused on his fingers plucking at the strings, rather than looking at Kyle. But out of the corner of his eye he does notice Kyle’s smile fade as he plays the opening to In The Aeroplane Over the Sea.

“ What a beautiful face I have found in this place, that is circling all ‘round the sun…” Eric shoots Kyle a shy grin, and Kyle seems to snicker good-naturedly, although his eyes are gleaming, and he has to quickly press his lips together.

Eric tries his hardest not to look at Kyle through the rest of the song, knowing that if he does look at him, he’ll fall apart. As he reaches the end of the song his fingertips are sore and his voice is strained from the effort and the nerves, but he hopes that lends a certain earnest quality to his vocals.

“ And when we meet on a cloud I’ll be laughing out loud, I’ll be laughing with everyone I see, can’t believe how strange it is to be anything at all…” Eric presses his lips together as he plays the last few chords, and is panting by the time he’s finished.

He looks up at Kyle. His lips are parted, and his eyes are gleaming and fixed on Eric like he just did something humanly impossible. He’s speechless, and that should be enough, a brilliant sign, but Eric still needs confirmation.

“Well?” he asks with a weak chuckle.

Kyle takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to find his words, his famous articulate speeches, but instead he whimpers in defeat and grabs Eric’s face, bringing him to his lips again. The kiss is firm, and slow, and tender, and expresses Kyle’s gratitude more than words ever could.

“That is…” Kyle shakes his head, looking into Eric’s eyes. His smile is crumpled. “The sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Eric’s eyes roam Kyle’s face and they share ragged breath before their lips collide again. Eric sets the guitar down on the floor, and Kyle soon takes the opportunity to pounce on him. Eric wonders if he has been wanting to do this all night, and gladly welcomes Kyle’s tongue in his mouth, his hands cupping his face before running down his sides. Eric’s hands survey Kyle’s writhing back, pushing up his t-shirt and finding warm skin, fingers tracing the outline of his spine. Eric pushes Kyle on his side, his t-shirt still lifted and revealing his heaving chest. Their lips never separate as Eric climbs on top of Kyle, sharing earnest, enthusiastic kisses, lips smacking, and breaths ragged. Eric’s lips feel tingly and hot, but he will happily let Kyle kiss him numb.

“ Fuck…” Eric moans, their bodies rubbing together as he follows the path of kisses he made to Kyle’s neck. “Kyle…”

Kyle whimpers, head tipping slightly to give Eric better access.

“Listen…” he gasps, while Eric continues to kiss and nip at his neck. “The other day when I told you that… th-that the night with Chloe didn’t go well but it had nothing to do with you… I lied…”

“Huh?” Eric asks hazily, nuzzling Kyle’s neck with his nose before his lips deviate to his collarbone. “You told me that you felt bad about… what you said…” he adds reluctantly, because he doesn’t really want to bring it up now.

“Yeah, I know but…” Kyle’s words are fighting through his ragged breaths. “It wasn’t just that… when we got back to her place we were making out but I… just kept thinking of you… and how this… this is what I wanted.”

It’s then Eric pulls back, staring into Kyle’s dark, startled eyes, like he’s surprised himself with his confession. Eric makes a strange, choked-off delighted moan in the back of his throat before kissing Kyle again, hard. Kyle takes full advantage of Eric’s reverie by shoving Eric onto his side. Their legs are tangled together, noses squished, making it harder to breathe as they kiss side by side. Kyle slides his lips away from Eric’s, looking so deep into Eric’s eyes that Eric has no choice but to return the stare, totally captivated. But Kyle isn’t trying to hypnotise him, he looks tentative and serious, and it’s when he unzips Eric’s pants that Eric knows why. He gulps audibly.

“ Ky-Kyle…” Eric moans, eyes slipping shut and keening to Kyle’s hand as it makes its first pass over Eric’s boner.

“Can I touch you here?” Kyle whispers. The words rouse goosebumps and his cock twitches violently as Kyle gropes it through his underwear.

Eric nods desperately, eyebrows knitting together. He so wants Kyle to touch him there, in fact, he’s so eager for Kyle to touch him there that he feels more sensitive than ever.

“ Yes…” he whispers. “Hell yeah, of course you can, it’s just that…” He squeezes his eyes shut and bites the inside of his mouth to resist… to resist… but god , Kyle’s touch. “I-I-I might… aaah!” Eric cries, turning his head to the side and burying his forehead in a pillow to dampen his voice. “ Aaah, Kyle!” he whimpers a couple of times, bucking into Kyle’s hand as he cums.

He doesn’t move as he rides out his orgasm, panting and sweating and appreciating the fact that Kyle still hasn’t removed his hand from his pants. He’s trembling, and he keeps his face turned away from Kyle because as euphoria fades, embarrassment at his, uh, ‘quickdraw’ sets in.

“Sorry…” he murmurs.

He hears Kyle clear his throat.

“No, no, it’s okay.” He removes his hand from Eric’s pants and Eric turns his head to look at Kyle. His face is hot and sweaty. “Wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Kyle asks with a chuckle.

A languid smile spreads across Eric’s face and he rolls over onto his back. He sighs at Kyle’s self-satisfied expression.

“Are you ever gonna let that go?”

Kyle shakes his head, beaming smugly.

“Nope. Let me get you some tissues.”

When Kyle turns away to reach under his bed for a box of tissues, Eric sits up and makes himself comfortable.

“Thanks,” he says with a sheepish smile when the box is handed to him. His fly is still unzipped and he lifts the waistband of his boxers to inspect the mess. He doesn’t even feel self-conscious as he cleans himself off. Kyle sits next to him silently.

“Is this something I should be concerned about?” Kyle eventually asks, eyebrow arched.

Eric whips his head around to glare at him and then chuckles when he realises Kyle was only half-serious.

“What? No, dude, fuck off it’s just…” He shakes his head. How can he put this? “It’s you, you know?” he raises his eyebrows at Kyle.

Kyle blinks and shifts a little, like he’s trying to get comfortable with the fact he can have that effect on him.

“Oh,” he whispers, before rolling his eyes. “How flattering.” His eyes roam Eric contemplatively before he sides up to him. “Still, I would kind of like to keep you going for a little while longer-”

“No kidding,” Eric interjects, rolling his eyes.

“So maybe we just need some practice?” Kyle asks, pressing his body right up against Eric’s. “Slow down a little so we don’t get… over-excited.”

Eric blinks, and his mind is more concerned with wrapping around the fact this is happening rather than forming words. But when it finally sinks in, he gives Kyle the coolest grin he can muster.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He sinks a little into the mattress. “We have all night, right?”

Kyle nods, lips pressed tightly together and eyes practically sparkling. Another grin tugs at the corner of Eric’s mouth and he remembers he still has some cleaning up to do. As he finishes cleaning himself, he feels the mattress dip beside him, and Kyle craning his neck to get a better look inside his boxers.

“Hey, you trying to peep on my dick?” he teases, letting go of the waistband of his boxers although he really doesn’t have a problem with Kyle looking at him.

Much to Eric’s total surprise and absolute delight, Kyle doesn’t get embarrassed. Maybe that was his first instinct as his cheeks do flush and Eric sees his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, but instead he shrugs and smirks.

“Maybe,” he replies, in an almost challenging way.

Eric’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling.

“Didn’t you get a good look in the shower that one time?”

“No!” Kyle snaps a little testily. “I was too… startled…”

Eric rolls his eyes to humour him, before raking his gaze over Kyle, brimming with the desire to make him come undone too.

“Well, anyway, I think it’s your turn now,” he tries to say as smoothly as possible.

Kyle just grins and yelps a little in surprise when Eric effortlessly pulls Kyle on top of him. Kyle soon gets himself comfortable, so he’s sitting in Eric’s lap, and he leans down a little to share indulgent kisses with him. Kyle is cupping Eric’s face, while Eric’s hands are at Kyle’s side, lifting his t-shirt up again just a tad and stroking the exposed skin… but he wants to see more.

“Arms up,” he commands, with only the slightest quiver in his voice.

Kyle complies, and Eric pulls his t-shirt over his head with a little help from Kyle. They sling the t-shirt on the floor, and as Eric rakes his gaze over Kyle’s chest, something silver can’t help but catch his eye. Eric can’t believe he made fun of Kyle for being on the track team. Yeah, making fun of each other is their thing, but the body it’s afforded him is nothing to laugh about. His flat, toned stomach and collarbone sharp enough to cut glass on really make that nipple ring stand out. 

Eric sighs, his mouth suddenly heavier.

“Man, that piercing is so hot.”

Kyle looks down at his chest.

“Yeah, Chloe thought so too – ow!” he yelps when Eric gives the opposite nipple a quick twist.

“Don’t talk about her,” he says sternly.

Kyle nods, but isn’t intimidated, simply cupping Eric’s face and kissing him slowly, dragging his lips over Eric’s. When they separate Eric is quick to resume their kissing, unbuttoning Kyle’s pants as he does.

“Cartman…” Kyle whispers encouragingly, before whimpering and jolting when Eric’s hand slips into his boxers to stroke his burgeoning erection. “Unnh Cartman…”

“Slow?” Eric asks, emboldened by Kyle’s own sensitivity.

Kyle nods, pulling back from Eric slightly and giving into him totally. His eyes slip shut, and he takes careful, increasingly ragged breaths. He braces himself on the headboard, savouring Eric’s slow, teasing strokes.

That’s how they spend the next couple of hours, talking and kissing and fooling around, and it turns out that slowing things down is the key to Eric, uh, appreciating Kyle’s touch a little longer.

After each orgasm, Kyle tells Eric how many seconds he lasted, which Eric pretends to be annoyed by but is secretly very pleased. His numbers did take a hit the first time Kyle sucked him off because Kyle’s mouth on him is the best feeling ever, but he felt so great afterwards he didn’t really care. The fact that they’ve now cum multiple times may also be playing a part in how long Eric is able to last, as their spurts grow weaker and the lines between ecstasy and pain become blurry. However, there isn’t a limit to how much you can make out with someone, tangled up in their bedsheets. Eric knows it’s not just his mushy, sex-addled brain talking when he thinks this is the best night he’s spent in Kyle’s bed ever.

Kyle is placing languid kisses on his neck when Eric turns his head to Kyle’s window, the blinds still open and the sky a beautiful pinkish orange.

“Hey…” a lazy smile stretches across Eric’s face. “The sun is coming up.”

“God, what is it with you and sunrises?” Kyle mutters, still very much interested in nipping at Eric’s neck and nursing the tiny bruises with kisses.

Eric huffs, sitting up and causing Kyle to pull back too, affronted. He raises his eyebrows at him.

“Kyle, I know it’s very hard for you to keep your hands off me right now but surely you can take a couple of minutes-”

“Okay, okay, god damn it,” Kyle interjects, rolling his eyes. He sits up, revealing his naked body for a second as he turns to face the window, wrapping his duvet around him.

Eric grins, biting his lip and shuffling over to Kyle, wrapping the duvet around himself too and sitting cross-legged next to him. They don’t say anything as they observe the streaks of pink clouds in the peach sky, the sun looming over the mountains and bathing the town in a honey glow. Eric thinks of when he and Kyle first watched the sun rise together, of how much has changed, and a lump is lodged in his throat.

“See?” Eric whispers. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah…” Kyle croaks, nodding. “Yeah, it is.” He twists his body slightly to face Eric, propping his elbow on his knee, cheek squished against his fist as he regards Eric with a curious, amused expression. “Just didn’t think you’d be so into them.”

Eric shifts his weight from one side of his body to the other, looking at the duvet.

“Yeah, well, they kind of remind me of you,” he replies. The lump has dissolved, but fragments of it remain in his voice.

Kyle blinks, fist sliding away from his cheek, and he sits up.

“Huh?”

Eric squirms a little, embarrassed, and clutches his ankles over the quilt.

“Yeah, I think when we first watched the sunrise together, when I was tripping on acid, that was the moment I realised I liked you.” He smiles, his inhibitions fading with every word.

Kyle blinks again and he swallows loudly. He nods, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Wow…” he whispers, before arching an eyebrow. “And it had nothing to do with the acid?”

Eric scoffs indignantly.

“No! No, I had come down by then.” He replays his words and feels self-consciousness creeping in. He winces. “Was that like really fucking gay?”

Kyle eyes him up and down as if to confirm he really just asked that, and he scoffs too.

“If you’re worried about how gay things are then I have some bad news for you about these last couple of hours…” he grins.

The nape of Eric’s already sweaty neck flushes, and he rolls his eyes.

“Dude, shut up, you know what I mean,” he replies, dropping his head onto Kyle’s shoulder. His eyes slip shut automatically, savouring the scent of Kyle’s skin. Kyle makes that small, amused hum again.

“Yeah…” he murmurs into his hair, before planting a kiss there. “I know what you mean…” Eric feels Kyle’s mouth stretch into a grin, still talking into his hair. “And it was really fucking gay.”

They chuckle softly together, and Eric thinks that fooling around with your best friend until the sun comes up and then watching said sunrise together is totally gay and the best thing ever. When Eric lifts his head from Kyle’s shoulder, Kyle is looking at him with lidded, patient eyes. Their lips meet, and they kiss lazily. Eric’s eyelids weigh a tonne and when they slip shut it’s hard to open them again.

“I think I fell asleep for a second,” he mumbles when they part.

Kyle nods, yawning into the back of his hand.

“Yeah, I think you did too. We should really get to bed.”

They make themselves comfortable in bed, returning to the default setting of Kyle sleeping with his back to Eric. But Eric doesn’t hesitate to spoon Kyle, wrapping his arm around his waist and pulling him close.

“Good morning , Kyle.” Eric grins into Kyle’s hair.

Kyle sighs, but even with his back to him Eric can detect the smile in his voice.

“Good morning, Cartman.” He snuggles into him and settles his arm on top of Eric’s. “Fucking dork…”

As Eric drifts off he thinks about their first kiss, the crowd, the win, and where his new home will be now that he and his mom can move out of the hotdog. Somewhere with a bathroom, and plenty of space, no doubt. But with Kyle wrapped up in his arms, Eric knows he’s found a home already.

Four months later

In between looking for a new house with his mom and recording an EP with Moop, Eric could have forgotten about his Berklee application. But three months ago, he received an email asking him to attend an audition in Denver and had to ask Kyle to pinch him because this is his life now. His mom is in the process of finalising the purchase of a modest bungalow, and he’s about to audition for arguably the most prestigious music school in the country.

“Jesus, how much longer?” Eric grumbles, leg jittering as he waits in the foyer of some auditorium for his name to be called.

“Cartman, your audition was at ten and it’s ten-o-one,” Kyle replies next to him, in a slightly exasperated voice. “Chill.”

A couple of other Berklee hopefuls have sat across from this morning and actually had their auditions, wielding cello cases, and brass instruments, and one girl even had a freakin’ harp. They were focused, sensibly dressed, and bookish… they were basically Kyle. The only thing they had in common with Eric is that they were all shitting themselves.

While Eric is grateful for the opportunity, he kind of just wants to get it over with, and for the snooty admissions staff conducting the auditions to put him out of his misery before the nerves eat him alive.

Eric huffs, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

“I just don’t like being made to get out of bed if people are gonna waste my time.”

Kyle chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Oh my god, you can’t be acting like a diva already.”

Eric turns his head to him, lifting his chin up with a smug smirk. If anything is going to put him at ease, it’s sparring with Kyle.

“I’ve been acting like a diva my whole life, Kyle, and I’m not going to stop now…”

Kyle narrows his eyes at him, but still with a fond, exasperated smile on his face. Eric’s eyes wander beyond Kyle’s shoulder to the double doors of the auditorium, willing for someone to come out. He groans.

“God, will they hurry up?”

He feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Nervous, sweetie?” his mom asks.

Eric turns his head towards her and sighs, nodding.

“A little.”

His mom’s face creases with pity, and she rubs his shoulder.

“You have nothing to be nervous about!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna do great,” Kyle adds.

Eric turns to him, blinking. A smile spreads across his face.

“You think so?”

Kyle rolls his eyes like that was a silly question, and Eric supposes it is. Kyle would be a bad boyfriend if he told him that he was going to do a terrible job.

“Of course,” Kyle replies, with a soft smile.

Eric nods vigorously, mouth suddenly dry, because he doesn’t want to just impress the admissions staff with the song he wrote. It’s not really for them, anyway, and with Kyle’s encouragement the sheet music and the lyrics are currently burning a hole in his backpack.

“Good…” Eric says with a shaky exhale. “Good, thanks, because um…” he presses his lips together. “The song I wrote…” his throat shrinks, and he prays it will return to its normal size in time for his audition. “It’s not just for them.”

Kyle’s eyes roam his face, and a tiny dent appears between his eyebrows.

“What do you me-”

He’s cut off by a bespectacled administrator opening the double doors. Eric sits up like a meerkat and watches as the short, middle-aged man scans his clipboard.

“Eric Cartman?” he asks, looking around the room.

Kyle gives Eric a small nudge, like he’s forgotten his own name.

Eric nods, swallowing thickly though his throat still hasn’t returned to its normal size.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

The administrator smiles at him.

“We’re ready for you now.”

Eric nods, and his dry tongue feels like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth as he gets up. Kyle and his mom get to their feet too, and he tries to absorb the excitement that’s evident in their beaming smiles and twinkling eyes.

They follow the administrator into the auditorium, empty save for two more administrators sitting at a long table in the front row, talking amongst themselves and not acknowledging the heavy doors clicking shut. Despite playing to raucous crowds that were hundreds of times bigger than this, Eric feels the sudden urge to bolt. To run to his mom’s car, lock himself inside and refuse to come out, because he can’t do this. Who is he kidding that he can do this? He just needs to figure out how to peel his feet away from the floor, frozen to the spot.

But then he feels Kyle’s hand on his shoulder, and when he looks at Kyle, he’s smiling at him with all the confidence in the world, totally believing that Eric can do this, and well, Kyle is the smartest guy Eric knows so if he thinks he can do it then he must be able to, right? It’s just the nudge Eric needs.

“Good luck, sweetie,” his mom says softly.

Kyle nods.

“Yeah, good luck.”

Eric takes a deep, fortifying breath through his nose. He smiles at Kyle.

“Thanks.”

Eric follows the administrator down the steps. Kyle and his mom take their seats and the closer Eric gets to the stage, Kyle and his mom feel miles away. The stage is unnervingly empty too, save for a baby grand. He gulps as he trots up the small steps to the stage, and winces at how his sneakers squeak against the polished floor. He’s very aware that five pairs of eyes are on him right now as he takes a seat at the piano.

“So, Eric Cartman, is it?” Another administrator asks. She’s an African American lady with cropped black hair.

Eric nods, remembering he still has his backpack on. He shrugs it from his shoulders quickly.

“We understand you’ll be playing a piece for us on the piano today?” The third administrator asks. He’s middle-aged too but carries it off so much better than the guy who called Eric into his audition.

Eric nods vigorously, willing words to come out.

“Yeah…” The nape of his neck burns at how hoarse his voice is, and how informal and brusque he sounds. “I mean, yes. I mean, um…” his eyes flicker to Kyle for help, but he’s too far away. Eric can’t see his face properly. “That is correct.”

The handsome administrator chuckles softly.

“Alright, take a deep breath. You don’t have to play just yet. We just want to ask you a few questions first.”

“Cool…” Eric replies in a relieved exhale, letting himself get a bit more comfortable. “Great.”

“Okay, so how long have you been playing piano?”

“Since I was about seven.”

Eric watches them all as they take note of his answer.

“And you were self-taught?” the lady administrator asks, looking up from her paper.

Eric sits up straighter. Bragging has always come naturally to him, and if there was ever a time to show off it’s now.

“That’s right.”

Eric bites the inside of his mouth to smother a grin when he sees them sharing approving looks.

The bespectacled administrator reaches for another piece of paper and scans it.

“Tell us more about, uh… Faith +1.”

Eric shifts in his seat.

“Sure, uh, it was a Christian rock band I formed with my friends Butters and Tolkien when I was nine years old. We released one album that sold a million copies, but uh, the band went their separate ways after that.”

Eric sees some eyebrows twitch.

“And you wrote all the songs yourself?”

“Yes.” Eric smiles. “I’ve been writing songs since I was a kid.”

The lady administrator nods, reaching for her own paper with his information on it.

“Ah, yes, you wrote the music for a Helen Keller Musical when you were in elementary school and… you were the keyboardist, songwriter and lead vocalist for Moop. ”

“That’s right. All the songs I wrote alongside my boyfriend, Kyle.” Eric gets sheepish again but takes comfort in the fact that Kyle is probably grinning goofily to himself right now too. “He was the bassist for Moop.”

“And did Moop win Battle of The Bands?” The lady administrator asks, with the tiniest hint of a cheeky smile.

Eric nods.

“Yes ma’am. We won a free recording session with Spinney Mountain Records, and we recorded an EP. Rockin’ The Suburbs .”

The panel again shares improving looks and satisfied smiles. The handsome administrator beams at him.

“That all sounds excellent, Eric. Would you like to play now?”

Finally.

“Yeah, of course,” Eric replies, and he can’t reach for his backpack fast enough. He almost spills his sheet music all over the floor and tries not to mutter obscenities under his breath as he gets them all in order.

“You’ve written an original song for us, is that correct?” the bespectacled administrator asks.

“Yes,” Eric replies with a relieved sigh now he’s sorted his sheet music and it’s resting on the stand. “It’s called The Luckiest …” his cheeks warm involuntarily. “And it’s about my boyfriend, Kyle.” He looks over the panel, wishing he could see Kyle’s face clearly more than ever. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.”

No matter how impartial they’re trying to be, no matter how closely they want to hold their cards to their chest, Eric knows that the panel is touched by his romantic gesture.

The lady administrator smiles at him and gives him a nod.

“When you’re ready, Eric…”

Eric shifts in his seat, fingertips suddenly prickling with sweat, and they seem to be disconnected from his body as they float to the keys. He hopes that means he can still play incoherently. He takes a discreet, bracing breath and begins to play. The melody carries his nerves away.

“ I don’t get many things right the first time,” Eric sings. “ In fact, I am told that a lot… now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls brought me here…” he leans a little more over the piano as the melody picks up. “ And where was I before the day that I first saw your lovely face? Now I see it every day… and I know… that I am… I am… I am… the luckiest…”

In the deliberating silence, Eric could forget that anybody is listening to him play. He’s not thinking about anything except the keys and Kyle, how everything was stagnant, and crappy just a few months ago but then Kyle believed in him, and it all changed. Believing in each other was not an easy thing to do, but they did it, and look how Eric has been rewarded. With opportunities, and happiness, and security. A few months ago, his life just seemed like nothing but dead-ends, but now there are routes to choose from. Still, deep down, he knows there is only one destination. Kyle. If he’d have him, Eric would follow him anywhere.

The song ends, and a single clap makes Eric jolt. It’s from his mom, unaccustomed to auditions like this, and even from a distance Eric can see Kyle putting his hand on her arm. Before Eric can chuckle, he hears the bespectacled administrator clearing his throat.

“Thank you, Eric. We’ll be in touch.”

Eric nods at them, trying to read their polite expressions but they’re giving nothing away.

“Thank you,” he replies.

He quickly returns his sheet music to his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder once again and scurrying off the stage. He just wants to see Kyle. When he’s close enough to them, Kyle and his mom get to their feet. They’re beaming at him proudly, like it’s hard for them to contain their pride. But once they’re out in the foyer, his mom can’t hold back anymore.

“Oh, Eric, that was wonderful!” She cries, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”

Although she’s rather small, his mom is squeezing him pretty tight right now. Eric can see Kyle trying to hold back his chuckles, no doubt used to these kinds of embraces from his mother.

“Thanks, mom…” Eric says, wheezing a little. “You can let go now.”

His mom pulls back, smoothing down her coat and looking at him like she’s concerned she’s hurt him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie.”

Eric smiles at her before his gaze slides over to Kyle, patiently waiting his turn to embrace him no doubt.

“What did you think?” Eric asks, trying to be coy.

Kyle shakes his head, eyes gleaming and lips pressed together. He opens his mouth to answer and laughs giddily.

“That you were amazing!” he says, pulling Eric into his embrace. Eric gladly returns it, clasping his arms around Kyle. He closes his eyes when Kyle sighs on his neck, rousing goosebumps. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispers.

Eric’s nose burns.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Kyle says with a gentle squeeze.

“Boys, I’m just going to the bathroom,” his mom announces. “I’ll be two seconds!”

Kyle pulls back from Eric and speaks to her over Eric’s shoulder.

“Okay, Miss Cartman…”

When she’s gone Kyle’s gaze returns to Eric, loaded with so many emotions that it captivates him: proud, and thoughtful, and vulnerable, and wicked. His hands are still on Eric’s shoulders, and he slowly slides them down his arms.

“What?” Eric asks, voice threadbare.

A grin tugs at the corner of Kyle’s mouth.

“Come over here…” he whispers, hypnotic and when he grabs Eric’s wrist and leads him to a dark, quiet corner Eric feels like he’s floating.

Before Eric can question him further, Kyle pulls him to his lips, hand squeezing the nape of his neck. A hot, shaky exhale leaves Kyle’s nose when Eric returns the kiss, tilting his head and Kyle lets Eric press him up against the wall.

“Cartman, that was incredible…” Kyle says breathlessly between kisses. “It was wonderful… and beautiful and…” he chuckles giddily, giving the nape of Eric’s neck another squeeze. “I don’t even know what to call it.”

Eric makes a small, sheepish humming noise, pressing his forehead against Kyle’s.

“I don’t care what you call it as long as you keep kissing me.”

Kyle chuckles and keens to Eric’s touch, pressing his face against Eric’s but their lips barely touch. They just share breath, eyelashes brushing together, and Eric can hardly make out Kyle’s features anymore. It’s just a blue-green haze of freckles and gleaming lips. Kyle’s smile fades, and Eric’s eyes only droop half-shut when Kyle places a long, tender kiss to his lips.

“I love you…” Kyle whispers when they part. They both freeze, and Kyle pulls back a little, eyes wide like he’s shocked by his own admission. “A-a-and I know we’ve only been dating for a couple of months, and I don’t know if I’m supposed to say that yet, but I do. I lo-”

Eric cuts him off with a hard, deep kiss, squeezing his waist with both hands.

“I love you too,” he replies. His cheeks are hurting, he's smiling so hard.

A wide smile stretches across Kyle’s face too. He makes a small, delighted noise that’s muffled by Eric kissing him again.

They’re interrupted by the sound of his mom calling them.

“Boys?”

Eric grumbles against Kyle’s lips, pulling back begrudgingly.

“Yeah, mom, we’re coming!” he snaps over his shoulder.

Kyle finds Eric’s hand and with a small tug, leads him back over to his mom.

Two weeks later and Eric is having the perfect Saturday. A day spent in Kyle’s bed watching TV, playing video games, and fooling around, and because Kyle wanted to stretch his legs and Eric is hungry, they’re now on their way to McDonalds.

“What the hell, why won’t my phone connect?” Kyle asks, as his car radio refuses to connect to his Spotify.

“Wanna try mine?” Eric asks, handing his phone over.

Kyle sighs but nods.

“Sure, okay…”

Kyle tries to connect Eric’s phone to the radio whilst keeping one eye on the road, but to no avail. Kyle grumbles under his breath.

“Damn it!” he snaps. “It’s not working either… I need to get a new cable or something. You wanna just listen to the radio?” he asks, handing Eric’s phone back to him.

Eric shrugs, gaze drifting out the window.

“Yeah, why not?”

Kyle chooses the local radio station, and the DJ’s oily voice soon fills the car.

“Alright all you dreamers and creamers out there in South Park-”

Eric groans.

“Ugh, I miss Spotify already.”

“ We’re about to start our request hour in just a few minutes, but first let’s get the latest news from Jimmy Valmer.”

Eric’s brow furrows and he peels himself from the window to stare at the radio like it’s about to explain what the hell Jimmy is doing. Thankfully, Kyle is doing the same thing.

“Th-thuh-thanks, Mitch. We’re experiencing unusually high t-t-tuh-temperatures lately-”

“Shit, Jimmy is on the radio?”

Kyle chuckles and nods.

“Apparently so. How come we didn’t hear about it?”

“Probably because he’s on the radio ,” Eric replies, raising his eyebrows. “Seriously, he goes from our shitty little news show that nobody watched to a crappy local radio station that nobody listens to?”

Kyle rolls his eyes with mild exasperation.

“Hey, come on, he’s following his dreams or whatever…” he argues, not sounding convinced at all.

“See, you can’t even say it with a straight face!”

Kyle sucks in his lower lip, cheeks growing red.

“I’m trying not to be a cynical asshole! But speaking of dreams…” Kyle gets shyer all of a sudden, shifting in his seat and his gaze can’t seem to focus on Eric, no matter how much it wants to. “How do you feel about Doctors Without Borders?”

Eric blinks.

“I have no idea what that is,” he replies honestly.

“It’s an organization that sends doctors into countries that are war-torn and impoverished and provides the people there with medical aid.” Kyle’s fingers flex around the wheel and he shakes his head. “I don’t know, I just feel like if I want to be a doctor and make a difference then that’s the way to do it.”

“Still… war-torn countries?” Eric asks, wincing because the thought of Kyle being caught in the middle of that makes his stomach clench.

Kyle sighs.

“I know, I know it’s dangerous, but I could really help people. Besides, you need to be qualified for a certain number of years, so I’ll probably be pushing forty by the time I’m eligible and… I don’t know… just wanted to see what you thought,” he replies, voice trailing off.

Eric blinks again, nodding to himself as he considers it. Yes, it would be dangerous, but danger is nothing new to them. Kyle is one of the most capable people he knows. Plus, he’s pretty fucking scrappy. That clenching feeling dissipates, instead replaced with a deep, warm feeling when he thinks about the beaming faces of the patients Kyle would help, and how fulfilling it would be for Kyle.

“Well… I think you would kick ass.” Eric grins.

Kyle grins too, delighted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Plus, the thought of you being this heroic, ripped doctor fighting off bad guys and curing the sick is so hot.”

Kyle scoffs, the colour rising in his cheeks again.

“I wouldn’t be fighting any bad guys!”

Eric sighs, tilting his head and letting it thump against the headrest.

“Please, Kyle. Let me have this. That’s going to be my only comfort while you’re off god knows where…”

Eric’s words hang in the air. The only sound in the car is Jimmy’s news report. While Eric can’t imagine Kyle not being part of his life, and he very much wants Kyle to continue being in his life in a particular way, that’s not exactly something they’ve discussed. They haven’t even graduated high school yet, will soon be living in different states to attend college, and Eric isn’t an idiot. He knows people don’t stay with their high school sweethearts. But he really, really wants to, and he hopes with every fibre of his being that Kyle feels the same way. He was going to ask him about it, and he can’t believe he’s just blurted it out in such a blasé manner.

“Well…” Kyle says carefully, fingers flexing around the wheel again. “If they have internet, I promise to video call whenever I can.”

Eric blinks, resisting the urge to pounce on Kyle and kiss him out of sheer delight, because the last thing he wants is for them to die in a fiery car crash, especially since it seems like Kyle is in this for the long haul too.

“You do?” he asks, grinning. He sits up and twists his body to face Kyle.

Kyle again nods, like the question was silly, and Eric is starting to think that maybe he shouldn’t doubt his instincts when it comes to how they feel about each other.

“Can we have video sex?”

Kyle raises his eyebrows.

“What if I have nowhere private to go?”

“Dick pics then?”

Kyle rolls his eyes and nods, smiling.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“And will you write to me too?” Eric asks, getting swept up in the romance of it all.

Kyle’s eyebrows almost fly from his forehead.

“ Write to you?”

Eric laughs, nodding.

“Yeah, you can be like…” he throws himself back into his seat, hand flung dramatically over his forehead. “ Dear Eric, I’m surrounded by so much suffering but when I think of your handsome face, I know it’s all worth it. The sun rising over the sand dunes remind me of your eyes, my love-”

Kyle groans.

“Oh god…” he chuckles despite himself.

Eric grins.

“And I’ll write back… Dearest Kyle, I long to be in your arms and wish there was no ocean separating us. I think of you night and day but knowing that you are making a difference in the world, and that every day brings you closer to me gives me comfort. Please find enclosed a tasteful picture of my-” He’s interrupted by his phone buzzing in his lap. It’s the email he’s been waiting two weeks for. His face drops. “Oh shit…”

“What?”

“The Berklee Admissions Team just sent me an email,” Eric replies, in disbelief he’s saying these words.

Kyle turns to him, eyes wide.

“Open it! Open it!” he insists, almost on the verge of squealing.

Eric finds Kyle’s enthusiasm so adorable that it tempers any nerves he had about opening the email. He chews his lip as he opens it, but as he reads the email the tone goes from polite to apologetic, and before it’s even confirmed Eric knows the outcome and his heart falls slowly like a shrivelled leaf off a tree.

“What does it say?” Kyle asks, still sounding so hopeful.

“I didn’t get in,” Eric murmurs.

Kyle’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks from Eric’s face to the road then back again.

“What? Are you serious?”

Eric huffs, irritable, because what kind of question is that?

“Yeah, I’m fucking serious, Kyle, look at it!” Eric snaps, holding his phone up to Kyle’s face so he can read the email.

Kyle jumps a little.

“Okay, don’t thrust your phone in my face while I’m driving! I…” he sighs guiltily, struggling to look at Eric. “I’m sorry.”

Eric sighs, his irritability curdling.

“I know. And I’m sorry too.” He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”

Kyle shoots him an uncomfortable but appreciative smile.

“Well, it’s their loss. You’re still waiting to hear from the other schools, right?”

Eric nods, grateful that Kyle even made the suggestion of applying to other schools and even more grateful that he took the time to help him find ones with scholarships and grants that would make it more affordable for Eric to even attend college.

“Okay, well, let’s keep our fingers crossed for those.”

“ Alright, thanks, Jimmy! Now let’s kick off our request hour with our most requested song – and a favourite here at the station…”

Eric gets another shock when Rockin’ The Suburbs starts playing. It’s exhilarating and disorienting at the same time, and Eric isn’t entirely sure if this is a dream.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims.

Kyle laughs, shaking his head in complete disbelief too.

“I had no idea they played this on the radio!”

Eric chuckles, shaking his head as well.

“We gotta start listening to the radio more,” he remarks, turning up the volume although hearing his own singing when he didn’t expect to at all is a little strange.

Kyle chuckles and nods, tapping the wheel in time to the beat and when the chorus kicks in they’re both head banging and singing along at the tops of their voices.

“I’m rockin’ the suburbs! Just like Arctic Monkeys did. I’m rockin’ the suburbs! Except that they were talented. I’m rockin’ the suburbs! I take the checks and face the facts, that some producer with computers fixes all my shitty tracks!”

Eric looks over at Kyle, his eyes on the road and grinning to himself as he drums his fingers to a song he co-wrote, and any disappointment from Eric’s Berklee rejection melts away, because whenever he looks at Kyle he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. He leans over and plants a big kiss on Kyle’s cheek. The car swerves a little, and Eric laughs at Kyle’s jumpiness. It’s contagious enough to dispel Kyle’s annoyance, as he’s soon laughing too.

Eric grins, sinking back into his seat and watching the familiar mountain views fly by. His eyes slip shut contently when he feels Kyle’s hand on his thigh. With his song playing on the radio and Kyle by his side, he knows that whatever happens, he’s going to be more than fine.