Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn't something that Eric liked to share about his childhood; he couldn't see how anyone would want to talk about the types of things he went through. His therapist tried to convince him it was healthy to speak about his trauma with others, that it might even help him come to terms with what had happened, but he wasn't buying it. Just thinking about the people who did such things to him made his heart race with fear; the last thing he'd want is for someone else to know how weak he believed himself to be under his bravado.

The bigger man hated feeling afraid, especially over things that happened so long ago. He found it unfair that he was still haunted by his aggressors' faces when he knew for a fact the majority of them didn't remember his, some of them didn’t even bother to look at him during. Most of these deplorable humans got to continue living happy, unaffected lives after doing irreversible damage to his psyche, hell, some were even famous.

Only one of the horrible beings who caused him such trauma was still suffering consequences, that being his uncle Jesse, the first to ruin his innocence at the mere age of five. He was visiting his extended family for Thanksgiving when it happened in the closet of his grandparents' guest room, being coaxed with words of flattery to step inside.

The brunette didn't fully realize what his uncle was doing. He thought they were just playing a game, as that was the lie the relative told him. Eric remembered being so confused to see his grandmother start beating his uncle with the closest thing to her, blood cascading from the grown man’s forehead onto his Clyde frog pajamas as a clothing iron was rammed into the creep’s skull.

Everything after that happened so fast. His mother called the police with tears in her eyes while his grandfather held his uncle down in the dirt outside. When the men in blue finally arrived, they insisted that he get an examination at the hospital, a memory that Eric found just as, if not more, traumatic than the incident. They poked and prodded him in places his uncle hadn't even touched while asking questions that he didn’t understand.

The worst part to him though, was that everyone, his family, the doctors, the officers, they all looked down at him with such pity. At the time, there was a part of himself that wished his uncle hadn't gotten caught, just so he wouldn't have to feel so helpless, still unaware of what exactly was so wrong with the situation, as the adults who were supposed to explain it decided to be incredibly cryptic about everything.

There was enough evidence to convict his uncle; not only was there physical evidence to confirm the crime, but when they searched the aggressor's things, they found videos that further incriminated him, making him the second uncle of the brunette who was confined to prison. The judge called Eric brave while sentencing his assailant; his grandparents vowed to disown Jesse, no longer including him in any of their family events.

He didn’t mind the attention he got after the trial; his mother took him out to Super Phun Thyme as a reward for speaking so well in court, promising that he would never have to go through any of that ever again, all things that brought him so much comfort.

The promise held up for one measly year, being shattered one night when Eric awoke to the feeling of a man he knew to be one of his mother's boyfriends, too young to realize him as her client, crawling into his bed. There was no ruse of a game this time, no compliments of how mature he was for his age, it just happened.

The brunette wanted to scream, call for his mother to save him, but he couldn't; the feeling froze him in shock, his involuntary trauma response bringing about shame as he believed he could have stopped it if he had the strength to move.

Eric debated whether he should tell his mother about it or not. He didn't want to go back to the hospital or to court. He decided to do his best to forget about it until the man did it again, the repeated act granting him his voice to explain what had been done the following day.

The same song and dance followed after his confession, the only difference being that they didn't have enough physical evidence to grant this man a harsh sentence like his uncle, but Eric didn't really care, so long as he didn't come near him again.

He took the little information he got from such incidents and used it to the benefit of his friends, along with himself, when they wanted a break from their parents. He believed he had the right to lie about such things as they had once happened to him, his brain having yet to comprehend that such horrific claims should not be fabricated.

The bigger man believed he got his karma for that though, considering that there were plenty more real incidents that came after his false accusations. Some of them he didn't even realize until he was in therapy. Eric would never forget when he put together exactly how he got the ‘sea-man’ for his sea monkey project, his therapist gently talking him through the lie he was told while he scraped his tongue in between his teeth as if he could scrape the muscle memory off of his flesh.

He still didn't fully understand Mitch Connor, unsure as to how he was a part of him he had no control over. He remembered laughing to his friends as he successfully convinced the four that it was another one of his schemes to make them look stupid in an attempt to cover up how much discomfort the entire situation brought him.

Eric was so incredibly thankful his group didn't look into everything that had happened during that time, specifically how deep his alter’s relationship with Ben Affleck went.

The brunette spent years blaming himself for that assault; in his mind, he practically offered himself to the celebrity who took advantage of him. Even now, he still had trouble with feeling like he wasn’t at fault. His mother didn't react the way she had before; there were no tears, no police, she saw a naked man in his bed, and simply walked away unfazed.

He now knew that it was because she was too strung out on one of her benders to care, then he wondered if she had given up stopping it because it happened to him so much. Eric had decided for his own sanity not to count the times he couldn't remember, such as when he hit his head, the injury slipping him into some form of weird concussion where he took on the same job his mother had. When he came to, he couldn't believe that so many people accepted those acts from a kid, and that deep in his subconscious, he knew how to perform them, making the brunette wonder how much his child brain blocked out.

Eric wasn't the only person in his friend group to experience such things, he was aware of that. He considered himself responsible for putting them all in danger of being victims when he joined that stupid online chat room to make older friends, too naive to realize what those types of men would want with children like him.

In the end, it didn't matter that they managed to get away from such men, as later their camp counselor would partly complete what those creeps had started by taking pictures of not just his naked body, but his friends' as well. Kyle was the only one who avoided becoming a victim that night, as he wasn't forced to be in the same type of scouts they were.

Still, this shared trauma didn't make the bigger man eager to speak more of what he went through with the others. There was one person outside of his therapist who knew details about what happened, and that was Butters. The reason he told him was because he wanted to explain why he thought it was okay to do the things he had to the blonde in his sleep, apologizing once he was sane enough to realize the weight of his actions. He didn’t use it as an excuse to hide behind; he was too aware that nothing could justify such a crime.

Butters forgave him, because of course he did. He insisted that what Eric did was different; he was a child who didn't know any better, the adults who preyed upon both of them did, the blonde taking a moment in their conversation to reveal that his own uncle had also forced him into a similar situation. The bigger man supposed he could make sense of such a take, but there was always a part of him that was going to believe he was poisoned to be the same as the people he grew to resent.

Eric did his best to avoid the feelings his memories provided by simply not acknowledging their existence, a strategy that worked most of the time. It wasn't often he was reminded of them; he was careful to avoid anything that might trigger him; however, there were times when he couldn't help but be forced into the past he tried so hard to forget, leaving him to sulk around his apartment while blaming his feelings on his anti psychotics.

His therapist had been pushing him to at the very least tell his fiancè Kyle about what he went through, insistent that he should know just in case their intimacy triggered something inside of him, but the chubby man didn't believe that to be a valid concern. He had been having sex with the red-haired man for seven years now, and there had never been anything triggering about it. If anything, he liked it when his partner was rougher with him; it allowed him to enjoy such pleasures on his own terms, finding comfort in knowing no matter how intense things got between them, Eric knew all he would have to do was say the word ‘stop’ and his lover would comply.

The brunette had complete trust in his partner; besides, it wasn't like Kyle was in the complete dark regarding his past. The taller man had not only driven one of Eric’s assailants away, but he was also often awakened to the sound of his betrothed screaming from a night terror.

Eric believed it was just another thing they both understood silently. Kyle never questioned him too much about his nightmares; he had yet to bring up saving him from Snooki since it happened. The chubby man had planned to go the rest of his life without fully explaining to his partner all of the times he had been assaulted.

However, like many of his plans, it failed.

It was a few days before Thanksgiving, the brunette had just come back from photographing some family’s Christmas card. He always made more money around the holidays, a fact he was grateful for as the Hanukkah presents he wanted to get his lover were insanely expensive. Kyle always insisted that he didn’t need extravagant gifts; the redhead rarely bought himself things that cost more than twenty dollars, a habit Eric wanted to change, deciding that if his fiancé wouldn't spoil himself, he would. The bigger man couldn't wait until his lover was out of college; the ginger was just a few years away from earning his degree in child psychology. The photographer could almost see his future and it was in a big, beautiful house with a rich, good-looking husband; he'd just have to hang on living in their shitty one-bedroom apartment a little bit longer.

“Yeah, that sounds great, I'm sure he'd love that!” Kyle enthused, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he wrapped up the peanut butter fudge Eric had left to set on the counter of their kitchen, the bigger man planning to bring it to Kyle's home for Thanksgiving.

The brunette reflected on how thankful he was that his partner's family had been so accepting of their relationship. A part of him expected them to turn him away; they would have every right to, it's not like he treated the Broflovski household well in the past, so it surprised him to be welcomed with open arms.

The couple always spent the holidays with Kyle's family. Eric's mother also joined in their Thanksgiving celebration as she preferred spending the holiday with her son over her siblings, meaning the bigger man would never have to endure another holiday with his extended family, or at least that's what he thought.

He snuck his way behind the redhead, trying to place his chin on Kyle's shoulder as he held him from behind, just barely reaching his neck up that far, having to stretch quite a great deal to do so.

“Who ya talking to Jew?” He hummed in the taller man’s ear, his fingers trying to slip under his lover’s shirt.

The ginger pulled his hands off of him, turning around to knock the brunette off of his tippy toes. “My mom, Jew!” The redhead snapped back, taking any opportunity to remind Eric that he had converted to the same religion he still liked to rip on.

“Oh, well, tell her I said hi, and that I can't wait to eat her delicious turkey!” He called loud enough that Kyle's receiver would pick up, the redhead mouthing the words ‘ass kisser’ as he listened to his mother happily ramble about how excited she was to see the brunette.

Eric began to pull the tin foil off the edge of one of the pans of fudge, stopping when he got a smack to the hand from his partner. “I just wrapped those up fatass.” He whispered, placing his phone to his chest as he scolded the chubby man.

“I made them, I should be able to test their quality.” The brunette insisted, getting a grumble from his fiancé.

“You can do that on Thanksgiving.” The freckled man grit before carrying away the tray he had attempted to steal from, putting his phone back to his ear. “Of course, Mom, we'll be there around nine and stay there until Sunday morning like always.” The redhead assured, doing his best to ignore the shorter man glaring at him as he continued with his conversation.

Eric rolled his eyes, “Your vagina always gets so sandy around the holidays,” he muttered, marching his way to sit on the couch while pulling out his phone to distract him from the fact that his lover's attention wasn't on him. “Didn't even ask me how my day was,” he pouted further.

The ginger closed the door of their fridge, his hand coming back up to support his cell. “I love you too, I'll see you soon, we can’t wait.” He ended, hanging up his call. “That was because I was on the phone!” Kyle made his way into the living room, standing over his lover with crossed arms. “Now that I'm not in the middle of a conversation, how was your day?” He asked begrudgingly, Eric pulling his head up from the short-form content he was consuming to respond.

“Fine, the family was happy with the pictures, the kid was a little asshole though.” The chubby man reached forward, pulling the man down onto the seat next to him, shoving himself onto the other's lap, sitting to straddle his lover.

The redhead kept his irritated demeanor, but made no efforts to push him away. “Yeah, well, most kids are assholes.” His scowl slowly turned into a smirk, placing his hands on his lover’s hips to keep him steady. “You should know that, considering you were the biggest asshole of them all.” The ginger teased, Eric giving a playful shove to his chest in response.

“Hey, look who's talking!” The bigger man spat, “You were no saint either.”

“Mm, but I wasn't anywhere as bad as you.” The redhead ran his fingers through the shorter man's hair. “And at least I grew out of my asshole phase.”

Eric was going to say something in retaliation when he felt his lover’s lips on his, melting into the feeling of the freckled man's gentle kiss, mentally cursing him for making him so soft over the years.

Kyle began slipping off the chubby man's coat, tossing it next to them on the couch. “I get it,” Eric smirked as the other pulled away. “You're trying to de-stress the old-fashioned way.” He accused with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

The redhead scoffed, “Am I not allowed to just kiss you? Why do you always jump to sex?” he chided.

“Hey, you started to undress me, but if you're not in the mood for me to ride you, that's fine, I'll just use our vibrator-” He was hushed again with his lover's mouth on his, the brown-haired man reveling in the cocky feeling of being right.

They started to make out, Kyle’s fingers wandering down the brunette’s body as he slipped his tongue past his lips. Eric lost himself in how amazing his fiancé felt for just a moment before he was ripped out of his trance by words he never expected to hear.

“By the way, my mom and your mom got together and invited a few other members of your family to Thanksgiving this year.” The redhead informed in passing, attempting to take Eric’s shirt off as he leaned in for another kiss.

The chubby man was on his feet in an instant, ripping himself out of his partner’s grasp. “They what?!” He questioned, breath coming fast as he tried wrapping his head around the idea.

His partner blinked up at him with shock, clearly not expecting this reaction. “Yeah, what's the big deal?” The ginger gave a shrug. “I thought you'd be happy they were making the effort to come see you.”

Kyle was under the impression that the only reason the brunette avoided seeing his extended family was because he hated making the drive to Nebraska, as that was the excuse the bigger man gave whenever the redhead suggested going to visit them with his mother.

“How the hell did they convince their fatasses to make that drive?!” He began pacing across the small room. “Exactly how many of them are coming? Does your mom know she'll have to cook, like, triple?”

Kyle snorted in amusement, leaning himself back against the couch. “Wow, selling out your own people.”

The bigger man glared back at him, face void of amusement. “Ha. Ha.” He huffed dryly before asking again, “How many of these jack-offs are coming?”

The ginger thought for a moment, his hands extending as he recalled what his mother had told him. “Let's see… so all of your cousins, Elvin, Fred, and Alexandra,” he started, placing three fingers up, counting as he named them. “You're Uncle Stinky, his wife, maybe your Uncle Howard?” He stopped his gesture at five. “They said he was coming, but I thought he was still in prison.”

“He got out last September.” Eric corrected before placing a hand on his forehead. “So pretty much all of them.” He couldn't keep the irritation out of his tone. It wasn't that he was upset with them as people; he didn't hate his extended family, he just hated everything they reminded him of. Almost all of them knew exactly what happened to him when he was five. Eric believed he would always be the weak, helpless victim in their eyes; just the thought of it made him want to scream in rage.

“Why does that bother you so much?” Kyle grabbed the jacket that was lying on the couch, moving to hang it on the coat rack by the door, the bigger man's feet stopping at his lover's inquiry.

He wasn't sure what to say; he supposed that now would be a good time to comply with what his therapist had been nagging him to do by telling his partner exactly why he didn’t want to see them, but the last thing he wanted was for the redhead to see him the same way he believed his family did.

So he came up with something else to say, “Just don't want to compete for your mom's cooking,” he rushed out. “That and my cousin Alexandra is a total fucking hippie.” They weren't complete lies, deciding to blame smaller objections for his tangent.

The taller man crossed the room to him, patting him on his shoulders. “I think you'll live, it's mostly for your mom anyhow, she doesn't get to see them often.” Kyle brought their lips together again, Eric unable to ease into the touch as he once had.

The bigger man shoved the redhead away by his chest, “Yeah, yeah, she’ll be thrilled, good for her,” he mumbled in a bitter tone, turning towards their bathroom. “I gotta take a shower.”

He didn't wait to see the redhead’s response to that, closing the door as fast as he could, flicking the knob to lock with a loud click.

Eric turned on the shower to duck his head into the cold water, not bothering to take his shirt off as he tried to get himself to stop panicking. He hated that such a thing was causing him to freak out, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as he internally chastised himself for reacting this way. He forced himself through the grounding exercise his therapist taught him in the hopes it would stop the horrific feeling twisting in his stomach.

It's not like his family liked to talk about what happened to him; maybe that meant they didn't think about it either.

The brunette began removing his clothes once he finally got his heart to stop racing, deciding to try and scrub away the feeling that was setting into his skin, turning the water as hot as he could stand.

By the time Eric got out, it was around dinner time. Kyle gave him a curious look as he made his way to the kitchen. “You were in there for a long time.” The redhead noticed as he followed behind the bigger man who began rummaging through the cabinets.

“Huh, guess I was.” He agreed with a glance towards the clock on the stove, realizing that he had spent nearly two hours in the bathroom trying to rid himself of the dirty feeling that clung to his bones. “What do you want for dinner babe?” He didn't want to dwell on his darker memories any longer, trying his best to forget the reason why his entire mood had changed. “Let's see, we have bread and peanut butter, oh, and of course, good old peanut butter and bread-”

His partner closed the practically empty pantry he was staring into. “Let's order takeout.” The ginger suggested, Eric turning his head towards his lover’s voice, “I was thinking KFC, does that sound good?”

Something about his offer felt like a trick. “You know I'm always down for KFC Kahl.” He answered carefully, the ginger eyeing him up and down, as if he were looking for something.

“You don't seem too excited about it.” He observed. “Normally, you'd be singing and dancing at the mention of it.”

That alerted the bigger man that his partner knew something was wrong, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet as he tried to think of something that would quell the redhead’s worries.

“I’m tired babe.” He gave a fake yawn, stretching his arms behind his head. “You know my meds make me sleepy sometimes.”

Kyle clearly wasn't convinced. “Didn't seem tired when you came home.” He pressed. “I feel like there's something you're not telling me.”

Sometimes the chubby man hated that his lover could read him so well. He just wanted to move past the entire conversation that had upset him, confused as to why it was so hard for him to do so. “Everything is fine Kahl, stop worrying.” He took the other man by his hand, stroking the skin with his thumb, an act they both did to each other often in times of stress. “Just a little anxious about your family meeting my extended family, don't want them to leave a bad impression.”

“If my family can accept you. They'll accept them.” Promised his partner, squeezing the brunette’s palm in his. “Let's try not to think about it. Thanksgiving isn't for another two days; it's just us right now.” He soothed, Eric nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, you, me, and some KFC, you offered it, no taking it back now.” He tried to sound more enthusiastic with his words, watching triumphantly as a look of relief washed over Kyle's face.

“You coming with me to pick it up?” The redhead asked, the other eagerly grabbing the keys from his bag. “Uh, yeah, can't trust you to order enough for the both of us.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t be eating a bucket of chicken by yourself fatass!”

The two of them began bickering back and forth as they went down the stairs, Eric getting himself to feel somewhat better as he spent time with his lover, able to cast the darker memories out of his mind while focusing on the other.

They ate their food while playing cult of the Lamb together, getting into an argument as to whether or not they were going to make their followers cannibals, something the brunette was for, pleading his case to the stubborn ginger, who wanted them to pick the perk of no negative consequence from feeding them grass instead.

Eric cheered when he finally got his partner to cave, singing, “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, I’m gonna make them eat their parents!” as Kyle sulked.

“Whatever, I get to pick the next one.” He muttered, the brunette pausing the game so he could stretch himself onto the freckled man’s lap, his eyes looking up at him as he used his fiancé’s thighs as pillows, extending his legs out on the couch.

“Yeah, sure, now give me attention.” The chubby man ordered, nuzzling the controller he was holding in an attempt to make him put it down.

“Ugh, you’re like a needy cat.” The redhead complained despite complying with his lover’s demands, placing the gaming remote on the edge of the armrest to slide his fingers through the unkept brown hair resting on his legs. “You look tired. Want to call it a night?”

Eric made a sleepy grumble in the back of his throat before nodding. “Mhm, carry me to bed?” Now that he knew Kyle could do that, he did his best to make him as often as he could.

The taller man started to move his lips to say ‘no’ when the bigger man batted his doe eyes, begging “Pleeease,” in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Kyle sighed before shifting the other’s head from his lap, standing to turn off their Xbox and TV. He then turned back around, shoving his arms under the brunette’s body. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” The redhead murmured as he lifted him in a bridle hold, taking him to their room.

“Aw, you think I’m cute, that’s kinda gay Kahl-omph!” He was unceremoniously dropped on his side of the bed, the redhead smirking as he pulled the covers over his lover.

“Oh, please, you're way gayer than me.” The ginger laid down next to the chubby man, holding him from behind as he settled in among their sheets.

“Where’s your proof Jew?” he yawned, leaning back into his fiancé’s arms.

“I got pictures of you in that outfit you wore for me last week.” He teased in a hush, Eric giving a mock sound of shock, as if he didn’t send the images of himself to Kyle on his work break the day after the freckled man saw it in person.

“I think it’s pretty gay you have compromising photos of me, and are you saying wearing women's clothing makes me gayer, that’s kinda homophobic Kahl,” He retorted, the redhead kissing the back of his shoulder as he prattled on.

“Hm, so am I gay or homophobic, which is it?” Kyle questioned, his partner scoffing at the inquiry.

“Uh, both, you get off to me, then hate yourself for it.”

The freckled man chuckled, “That’s actually pretty accurate.”

He got an elbow to the stomach for that comment. “Shut up,“ the brunette yawned again, starting to drift off to sleep as he spoke. “Just jealous I look good in…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, Kyle whispering, “Good night Eric.” The bigger man slurring back his own “Night.” Before fully letting his eyes close.

….

When he opened them, he wasn’t in his bed. Kyle was nowhere to be found, at least not that he could see; it was completely dark around him. The brunette reached out to feel his surroundings, his heart hammering hard in his chest as he touched one of the walls enclosing him, something soft hitting the top of his head as he tried to stand.

“Kahl?” He called in confusion, his brain not yet registering that he was in a dream, trying to retrace his steps before bed to make sense of why he was here.

“It's just such a shame what happened to him.” A voice uttered, Eric turning his head to the sound. “Grandpa?” There was no way that could be him; his grandfather passed when he was in high school.

He tried walking towards where the sound was coming from, bumping into some sort of sliding hatch that shifted slightly from his action before pushing him back, revealing a small amount of light that trickled through the shutters on the wooden door, making Eric realize exactly where he was.

Using the new brightness, he looked down at himself, expecting to see his body under him, and he did, but it wasn't the one he was accustomed to. He bawled his small fists, trying to make sense of why he was suddenly five in the guest room closet of his grandmother's house. “You're dreaming Eric.” He tried to reason with himself, attempting to will the scene away with his mind when he heard his grandmother begin to respond to what was said.

“I know, poor boy, he'll probably be messed up for life because of this.” The older woman tisked, forcing Eric's curiosity to get the better of him, peaking from one of the openings.

He expected to see the room he'd used to stay in when he visited his grandparents, his body starting to shake in fear as he looked out at the hospital he was once forced to go to, all of his family gathered in the overwhelmingly white hallway.

“What kinda sick freak prays on a weak little boy?” His aunt added with a shake of her head.

“I'll try to be as quick as possible with everything.” A nurse assured his family.

Eric recognized her as the woman who collected evidence from his body after his first assault, his mouth going dry at the sight of her. The brunette forced himself to look away from the scene, swallowing as his shaky legs began backing him away.

The fact that this was a dream began falling out of his mind, suddenly being consumed with the need to hide, to avoid going out to what he knew was waiting for him.

He was planning to conceal himself in the clothes that were hanging up when he felt a strong pair of hands on his shoulders, going rigid at the contact.

“Hey, little man.” A disgustingly familiar voice called, the brunette’s breath catching in his throat. “Uncle Jesse?” His voice was suddenly higher-pitched, tears rushing from his face as he felt his body be forced to face the man, unable to do anything but tremble as he looked up at him.

“That's right, did you miss me?” The relative purred, his hands still holding Eric by his shoulders.

“Please let me go,” he begged, lost in the nightmare that his brain had conjured up.

“Now, why would I do that?” The cruel man grinned, letting go of one of his hands to pat the top of the brunette’s head. “It's been so long since I've seen you, there are so many games we could play together.”

Eric still couldn't move; he couldn't even shake his own head no, too afraid to blink. “I-I I-” even speaking was hard, his tongue felt like it had grown inside his mouth. “Gr-grandma says th-those games that- she said-” he was sucking in air as fast as he could. “I c-can't play them.” He finally got out, his uncle giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

“What she doesn't know won't hurt her.” The older man insisted as he pulled him closer. “Besides, I brought all of your friends to come play with us.”

His hand reached up to click on a light hanging above him, revealing that the space had grown in size, filled to the brim with the faces of those he had tried so hard to forget.

“Come on, this will be fun Eric.” One of the others called. The brunette quickly identified him as his mother's client, something in the man's voice finally snapping him out of whatever state he was in, turning to run out the door when he bumped into someone's legs.

“Think you're going somewhere, piggy?” Another asked darkly, lifting him off the ground with his hands pinned behind his back. “It's time you get what you deserve. I wanna watch them break you.”

Eric knew it was Scott holding him, thrashing in the air with his eyes squeezed shut, repeating to himself that he was just in a dream, the crowd howling in laughter at his words, as if they were the most hilarious thing they had ever heard.

“Yeah, right, if it's a dream, then you won't mind us doing whatever we want with you.” His uncle reached for him. “I call going first.”

The brunette felt bile fill his mouth, doing his best to swallow the vomit so he could scream, unable to get anything past his lips, his voice becoming completely lost as his uncle’s hands inched toward him.

….

“Cartman! Get the fuck up!” he heard someone yell, waking as he was shaken roughly by his shoulders.

Eric sat up at the contact, breath coming fast as he was snapped back out of his subconscious.

The bigger man looked around the space, finding his own room unfamiliar, a part of his mind still lost in the scene he so desperately wanted to escape. He moved his gaze down to himself, touching his adult form just to confirm it was real, shifting as he felt something warm pooling under his legs.

“You pissed the fucking bed!” The voice that awoke him shouted in anger, hearing angry footsteps stomp on the floor around him. “This is why I told you not to drink an entire large soda before going to sleep-”

The rest of whatever this person was saying began blurring into nothing but sound, the brunette not daring to look at who was cursing at him, afraid he would see one of the people who scared him so, still not yet fully processing what had just transpired in his head.

He jumped at the feeling of someone grabbing his arm, making out the words “Get up asshole, you're the one who's gonna change our sheets!” before having the urge to flee, ripping his arm away from the grasp as if he had been burned by it.

“Don't fucking touch me!” The bigger man screamed, kicking himself across the bed as he tried to scramble away from whoever was there. His legs got tangled up in the sheets as he tried to run, tripping and smacking his face hard against the floor, the contact temporarily rendering him motionless.

“Eric!” The voice was now filled with concern, but the brunette still wouldn't let his guard down, twisting his body around to force himself into the corner, eyes going wide as he saw blood leak from his nose, the liquid staining his pajamas.

“No! No!” he shrieked, fat tears rolling down as he began wailing into his lap, his knees coming up to support himself as he leaned against the wall. “Not again! He ruined them again!" His fingers began tugging at his own hair, the memory of when his uncle was pulled off him being so clear in his mind that he wasn't able to categorize it as a time of the past, reliving the feelings so vividly that he couldn't acknowledge anything else.

He was crying too loudly to notice the shuffle that made its way towards him, snapping his head up when he heard. “I'm not gonna hurt you, Eric.” In a calm but stern tone. He looked up at a blurry figure who kneeled in front of him, his vision clouded by tears.

“Can you take some deep breaths for me?” asked the unfocused form, the brunette sniffling as he coughed, choking on his own blood. “Why does it keep happening to me…why won't it stop-”

“Eric.” The voice commanded, somewhat snapping his attention back to him. “Breathe with me. You need to breathe-”

He cut whoever this man was off with a rushed-out plea. “Just please don't take me to the hospital!” The brunette moved his head back down to his lap. “I don't want to go back, please don't make me go! I don't care if he gets away, I just want to shower it off, please!”

There was a moment of silence as he continued to sob, fearing that the next words out of the other's mouth would be a denial of his request, trembling as he awaited a response.

“No one is going to the hospital.” The voice assured. “I'll help you get into the shower, but you have to breathe for me first. Can you do that?”

The bigger man nodded, following the instructions of when to take in air and when to let it go, his mind placing together who was the one giving them, lifting his sight to acknowledge his partner patiently sitting in front of him.

“Kahl?” He gasped, the redhead’s face becoming clear in his sight.

“Yep, that's me, you're doing so great, Eric, just keep on breathing.” The freckled man encouraged, his expression blank as he kept his eyes on the brunette.

Eric squirmed at the wetness in his pants, his hand coming up to wipe some of the blood off his nose, his brain finally freeing him from his panicked mindset, grounding himself back in the present.

“I- shit I'm-” he was unsure of what to say, shame filling his face as he tried to stand, stumbling on his feet.

Kyle jumped to stand alongside him, starting to extend his arms to catch him, only to quickly pull them away, worry flashing across his features for a brief moment.

“Can I touch you?” The ginger asked softly. “I want to clean off your nose before you get in the shower.”

Eric gave a nod, grabbing the redhead by the arm as he swayed, doing his best not to get his blood on his fiancè.

The brunette let his eyes shut as he was led to their bathroom, dragging his feet against the carpet floor until he was carefully set down on the lidded toilet.

The taller man dug around in their bathroom cabinets for a moment before pulling out a first aid kit, bending down as he started his work of tending to the bigger man's injury.

He first cleaned up the blood that was covering his lip with a disinfectant wipe, then brought a tissue to his partner’s nose. “Blow, gently.” He ordered, Eric winching at the sting it brought to do so.

The redhead then pinched it shut with his thumb and index finger. “Breath through your mouth. This will take about ten to fifteen minutes.”

The bigger man gave a weak laugh. “I know, this isn't my first nosebleed, Kahl.” His tone was light, desperate for his lover to give him some sort of clue as to what was going on in his thoughts. “Have you forgotten how many you have given me?”

The ginger shook his head, finding no amusement in the situation, “I haven't, now hold still.” His mannerisms were still void of any feeling, leaving Eric to sit in silence as he waited for his nose to stop bleeding, Kyle glancing up at the clock on the wall every so often.

After what felt like forever, the freckled man let go, running another wipe over his skin, cleaning the rest of the dried blood. “You're lucky you didn't break it.” He muttered, placing a hand on the side of the brunette’s face for a moment, the chubby man leaning into the touch.

“Yeah…” he agreed, pain burning his throat as he spoke.

Kyle let his hand drop back down to his side as he began to stand once more, twisting the knob of their shower on. “Will you be alright while I go clean our bed?”

Eric felt shame prick under his skin. He couldn't believe he had actually wet the bed; he hadn't done that since he was put on meds at the ripe age of thirteen, becoming more repulsed with himself the longer he sat in his damp pajama pants.

“I'll be alright, don't worry.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Sorry I-”

“It's fine Eric.” His lover dismissed tiredly, turning to leave. “Call me if you need anything. I'll be back soon.”

Once the door was closed, the bigger man couldn't help but cry again, sliding the bloody clothes off his body.

He climbed into the tub, sitting down on the porcelain as he let the water wash over him, hugging himself tight.

All of this made him feel so helpless; he thought he was way past episodes like this, believing he should be, it had been years since he'd seen any of the people in his nightmare. Now his poor partner had to deal with his screaming, with his stupid mess, all because he had a bad dream.

Eric began mentally bashing himself for his lack of control. His shaky hand twisted the shower valve as far as it could towards the heat, trying to burn away his self-disgust.

The brunette stretched himself up on his knees to grab his red loofah off the caddy that hung on the shower arm, pouring half of his body wash on it, unable to keep himself from shaking as he began scraping the plastic across his skin.

He stopped to clasp a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of sadness that escaped his lips, not wanting Kyle to hear that he was still upset. He felt like he had already put the ginger through enough tonight, his mind starting to convince him that his lover was considering leaving him for his behavior, when he heard the door open again.

“You okay?” Kyle questioned, Eric peeking out from the curtain just long enough to see the redhead in a different set of pajamas, leaning himself up against the door with the same deadpan expression.

Their eyes met for a small moment before the brunette ducked back out of sight, resting his cheek on the wall of the shower, still curled into a small bawl, rocking in an attempt to calm the war inside his mind.

“Just peachy.” The bigger man muttered, his fingernails picking at a scrap on his face, wishing he could rip all of his skin off at once.

“I’m gonna get the blood out of your clothes,” Kyle promised. “It will be as good as new, like it never happened.”

Eric suddenly felt envious of his pajamas, wanting to live on without the stains of his past. “Thanks.” He sniffled again, rubbing at his sore nose, wondering if he'd have bruises under his eyes from the whole ordeal.

“So…” the ginger cleared his throat, the brunette dreading whatever his partner was planning to say next. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

Eric clicked his teeth together, unsure of how he should go about the incident. A part of him knew he should just be honest, that if anyone was going to understand, it would be his partner, but the emotional part of his brain that insisted it would ruin everything, that person he loved the most would see him as damaged, a thought that outweighed any logical reasoning he had.

“Just a delusion, hallucination, you know, stuff that comes with having schizophrenia.” He tried to downplay, the other giving a long exhale in response.

“Okay, respectfully…” Kyle seemed to be fighting his tone to stay calm, the brunette hearing a small clacking sound of his tapping foot. “That's bullshit. I've been with you for seven years. I know what your episodes look like, and that wasn't one of them.”

Of course, the redhead would see right through him, the bigger man letting his limbs slip down, uncurling himself from his hunched position. “Well, it was just a really bad one.” He continued to lie, a scoff slipping past his lover's lips.

“I'm literally in school for psychology!” He snapped before going silent, taking another deep breath before trying to speak again. “I know what I saw.” The ginger informed in a gentler tone. “You had a flashback, Eric. I’m almost positive of that. What I don't know is what it was about. That's what I'm asking you.”

“It's stupid.” The chubby man felt like he was at a disadvantage; not only did his lover know how to read him, but he was also aware of how to analyze him in the same way his therapist did, the idea of him doing so making him feel overexposed.

“I beg to differ.” Kyle disagreed. “I have never seen you like that in my entire life. Not even when we were kids, you looked so-”

“Weak.” Eric supplied, the curtain suddenly being pulled back at his word, flinching at the cold air hitting his body.

Eric looked away from his lover standing over him, the redhead reaching over to turn down the heat of the water once he felt it splash his skin.

“You're gonna make yourself sick.” He turned the knob back to where he had it before, kneeling on the floor to cup his lover’s soft face in his hands.

“You are not weak.” He began rubbing circles with his thumb on his cheek. Eric still avoided his gaze, but he didn't make an effort to pull away from the taller man's touch. “I was going to say scared, I have never seen you so afraid, it-” He cut himself off, clearly searching for the right words to say. “It made me angry at whatever affected you like that.”

The brunette refused to meet his eyes, skin flushing with heat at the tender contact. “You're gonna get your pj’s wet again.” He warned, his lover quick to brush off his concern.

“I don't care, you're more important than my clothes.” He deemed making Eric’s chest warm. Normally, Kyle had difficulty dealing with any sort of mess, especially bodily fluids. Eric was genuinely surprised that he not only took care of his bloody nose, but their sheets as well, something he knew must have been hard for his partner to do; it made the chubby man feel like he mattered in a way no one had before. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” Kyle asked, his hands beginning to retreat when the brunette grabbed him by the wrist, keeping one of his palms on his cheek.

“No Kahl.” He shut off the water, the redhead making him feel safe enough to come out of the shower. “You're…thank you.” he placed their foreheads together, taking a moment to enjoy how grateful he was that he was marrying someone like Kyle.

“There's really no need to thank me.” His lover insisted, snatching the towel off the rack next to them, gently running it through the shorter man's brown hair. “But I would appreciate some details about what happened.” Eric tensed up instantly at the mention of what he had almost forgotten, the other quick to add. “I don't need to know exactly what happened, actually, if it's easier, I can ask you questions, and you can just say yes or no.” He offered, the brunette pondering over whether or not he should agree to such a thing.

“Fine. Ask your gay questions, but if I don't want to answer, I won't.” He grumbled, Kyle giving a nod of agreement at his terms.

“Sounds good to me.” The redhead ran the towel down to his fiancé’s shoulders, moving it side to side to dry his body. “Let's start off easy. That was a flashback, correct?” His eyes bore into him, the brunette rolling his own in response as he knew his lover already knew the answer.

“Yes, thought you already figured that out, mister ‘I go to school for psychology’." He griped, shifting his legs as the other moved lower down his back.

There was a small look of triumph that flashed across the ginger’s face for just a moment before he continued. “Okay, so, this flashback.” He put the cloth down, notably avoiding touching any of his private areas. “Was it triggered by the conversation we had about your extended family coming to Thanksgiving?”

Eric couldn't believe how accurate Kyle's assumption was. He himself hadn't even connected the situations, too busy being dismayed that it happened to think of what caused it.

“Damn detective sandy vagina, right on the money.” He taunted, watching as his lover’s face lit with anger, the sight giving the bigger man some much-needed normalcy.

Kyle sat back on the heels of his feet. “Alright, I'm almost done.” He kept his gaze steady on the brunette. “You mentioned not wanting to go to the hospital. Was it because you had to go to the hospital after what happened then?”

Eric instantly broke their gaze, looking down at his body, tears pricking at his eyes. “Yeah.” His voice broke slightly as he answered that time, not daring to look at his partner’s face as he no doubt was piecing everything together.

“Was it because there was evidence needed for a crime committed against you?” The ginger was being super vague, a mercy that Eric was thankful for.

“Yes. It sucked ass.” He admitted, surprised that he was able to speak that much, still not moving his eyes from the bottom of the tub.

“I'm sure it did.” Kyle’s tone was still light, almost clinical, “Last question.” He gave a sharp inhale before asking this time, seeming very hesitant to do so. “Did this crime have anything to do with sexual violence?”

Eric was tempted not to respond to that one, but he knew that Kyle would probably come to the same conclusion if he stayed silent. “Yep.” He confirmed simply, eyes shutting as he didn't even want a glimpse of his lover’s face at that moment, beginning to ramble. “It's not something I like to talk about.” He rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. “My therapist has been pushing me to tell you about it, I haven't wanted to because I don't want you to look at me differently.”

“I wouldn't.” His lover said without a hint of doubt. “I didn't see you any differently after the whole jersey thing.” He placed his fingers under the bigger man's chin, tilting his head up. “I swear by the moon and the stars and the skies, that there is nothing you could say that will change the way I see you.”

Eric couldn't help but laugh at his partner's words, comforted by the sounds of Kyle's chuckle mixing in with his. “No need to get all poetic on me Jew.” He pushed himself to stand, wrapping the towel that was next to him around his form. “I'll explain it more, on a different night, after Thanksgiving.” He decided, not wanting to put his mind back into the state he had just escaped by talking about it any longer.

“Alright, but can you let me know when something triggers those memories?” The ginger pleaded. “I would like to do whatever I can to prevent you from going through something like this again.”

Eric extended his hand to help lift Kyle off the ground. “Yes, I'll appease your Savior complex and tell you when something triggers me.” He started making his way to their hallway. “Don't think I'm falling asleep anytime soon.” The brunette mumbled, “Wanna play some more cult of the Lamb with me after I get dressed?”

Kyle nodded. “I'll get it set up.” He stopped to place a kiss on the shorter man's forehead. “Love you, baby.”

Eric felt a shiver go down his spine at the soft words. “Love you too, even though you're a big homo.” He relished the rare exchange of words before readying himself for an all-nighter playing one of his favorite games with his favorite person.

Chapter Text

Eric cherished every small moment that he had with his partner before Thanksgiving, going as far as to beg him to call off work the day before the dreaded holiday.

“You know I can't, I'm lucky enough they're letting Stan pick up my shift for me this weekend, you know how shitty Walmart is with time off.” The redhead insisted as he put on his blue vest, his partner holding him from behind, trying to drag him away from the door.

“I'll give you head if you stay.” He tried to bargain. “I'll cradle your balls and everything-”

Kyle turned himself around, bringing the other into a kiss, hushing the bigger man's voice. “As wonderful as that sounds, I am high on points, I can't afford to call off.” He firmly explained after he separated their lips.

Eric scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “Fine, go, I don't care anyway.” He pouted, looking off to the side.

“I'll call you on my lunch break.” The ginger assured, bending down to give him one last kiss on his cheek before he made his way out the door.

The bigger man threw himself down on their couch, unsure of how to spend his free time. Everything they needed for tomorrow’s road trip was ready to go; the brunette even made a playlist for both of them to listen to on the way to Kyle's family’s house. He started contemplating whether or not he should take a nap when he heard a knock on his door.

There was a part of him that hoped it was his lover, though it wouldn't make any sense for him to knock, as he had a key; however, that logic didn't stop the chubby man from giddily rushing towards the door.

His face turned into a frown at the sight of Kenny, who was shaking a bottle of rum and a speaker at him. “Happy friendsgiving bitch!” The blonde enthused, pushing his way into the apartment.

“Kenny, what are you doing here?” he demanded in an irritated tone, the other wasting no time digging in his glass cabinet, pulling out two shot glasses.

“Is that any way to greet your best friend?” the blonde clicked his tongue to the top of his mouth, making a sound of shame. “All of our other friends are busy this lovely Thanksgiving Eve, so I decided we could have a party, just the two of us.”

Eric placed his hands on his hips. “What if I don't want to party? I'm fucking tired,” He spat, Kenny unfazed by his words as he poured them both a shot of rum.

“Too bad, baddie, baddie shot a clock!" The blonde cheered while lifting one of the glasses. “Come on, are you really gonna let me drink alone? I got shitty rum just for you.”

Eric sighed, pitching the bridge of his nose. “You know I can't drink on my meds.” He hadn't done so in years, Kyle insisting that he stop risking it when they moved in with one another after high school, the ginger being very stern in enforcing him to avoid alcohol.

“You can't drink cause your man has a fetish for being a buzz kill.” He slid the liquor closer to the bigger man. “You used to be just fine drinking when we were teens, just a little bit isn't gonna kill you.”

Eric's eyes flickered to the shot, then to his best friend, who was pleading with his eyes for him to acquiesce.

“Just a little bit.” He wrapped his fingers around the small glass. “Kyle's calling me on his lunch so we can't get too fucked up.”

Kenny did a victory cry of “Yes!” before assuring. “Don't worry, just a small buzz, we'll be as good as sober by the time he calls!”

….

More than half a bottle later, and Eric was most definitely more than buzzed. He had honestly forgotten how good drinking made him feel, stumbling about his kitchen as Kenny blasted some classic Britney, both of them doing their best to dance to it.

“You're…so smart Ken.” The bigger man slurred, holding his body up against the kitchen bar. “This is the most fun I've had in, like, a while.”

The blonde laughed, “Yeah, told ya this was a good idea. Should listen to me more dude.” Kenny moved to give his friend a playful push, gasping when it began knocking the other to the floor, trying to grab his arm to stop him, the attempt ending with both of them on the ground.

There was a moment of silence before they both began giggling, Eric's head moving to lean on Kenny's chest, cuddling his friend as they both howled with laughter.

It was an act of physical contact that the two of them hadn't done in a long time, almost as long as Eric had been sober for.

“Oh God, I missed this,” Kenny admitted, patting the top of the brunette’s head. “For a minute, I was worried your boyfriend had sucked all the fun out of you.”

The chubby man shook his head, finding himself surprisingly comfortable against Kenny's bony body. “He's my fiancé, and he's just a worrywart.” He corrected, finding it increasingly hard to form sentences.

“He's not your best friend, though,” Kenny claimed, confidence wavering as he breathed out a shaky “right?”

Eric slapped him hard on his chest. “Don't be a fucking pussy Kenny. He's my partner, you're my best friend.” He brought his head up, poking him as he spoke. “No one is replacing you, not even Kahl, so stop whining about it like a chick.”

The blonde gave a nod, “It's just been a really long time since we've hung out like this, I mean, we still chill, but not like this,” he noticed

The chubby man groaned in irritation at his words. “'Cause you've been busy with science school, and being a random slut” Eric pointed out. “I've been busy with wedding stuff.”

Kenny gave a sigh. “Yeah, you right,” He agreed begrudgingly. “Just sometimes I miss when we were in high school.”

The brunette snorted, “I don't.” He shifted his hips under his body, resting more of his weight onto his friend. “That shit was ass.”

They began snickering again, the chubby man unsure of what they both found so funny.

It looked like Kenny was going to say something else when Eric heard his phone ring on the counter above him. “Shit!” He swore, pulling himself upright to a kneeling position, an arm moving behind him to support his body. “Turn the music off Kenny!” He ordered, the blonde muttering “whipped” under his breath.

He lazily grabbed the phone off the counter, cursing when he saw his lover requesting to FaceTime.

“Do I look drunk?” He asked his best friend, who gave him a quick once-over.

“No, I think we'll be good.” The blonde said optimistically, Eric trusting him as he leaned back against the floor, currently unable to form the concept of standing up.

He held the phone above him before accepting the request, watching as his phone screen showed his partner sitting in their green Dodge.

“What's up fatass? Are you managing without me?” His lover asked while adjusting the camera to show Stan eating a sandwich in the passenger seat. “Stan's here too.”

“Hey, Cartman! How are you doing?” The black-haired man asked politely.

Eric was going to answer when Kenny snatched the phone out of his hands, lifting it to show both of them lying on the kitchen floor. “We're awesome! Having a little friendsgiving party while you lameos slave away to a corporation.”

Eric pushed Kenny's shoulder, the blonde nearly dropping it on the two of them. “Shut up, you sound like a damn hippie.”

“Are you guys on the kitchen floor?” The redhead’s voice questioned, sceptically taking in the sight of them both.

“Yeah, it's, comfy here.” Eric tried to excuse Kenny shifting himself to lean on his best friend's chest, phone shaking slightly in his unsteady grip. “My turn to be little spoon. Your tits make the best pillows.”

The brunette watched his partner crunch the water bottle in his hand. “You too have been drinking, haven’t you?!” Kyle snapped, Stan taking another bite of his food with an uneasy look on his face.

“What- I” the bigger man was going to try to come up with something other than the truth when the blonde went.

“Uh oh, busted.” Officially blowing their cover, Kyle’s face contorting in rage at the confession.

“You know that you're not supposed to do that on your meds Eric!” The ginger fumed, the bigger man practically feeling his anger through the phone.

“It's just a bit, babe, m’fine.” He tried to brush off, but his lover wasn't having any of that.

“Just a bit can give you a fucking heart attack!” He nearly screamed. “Why the fuck would you ever risk it?!”

“Hey, if you're gonna be mad at anyone be be mad at me. I brought the liquor.” Kenny piped up, bringing himself to a sitting position, Eric doing his best to copy him, clearly having trouble, body wobbling as his eyes threatened to close.

“Dude, he looks really fucked up.” Stan acknowledged, the blonde shaking his head. “He's fine, Cartman, tell ‘em you're fine.”

The brunette began trying to get to his feet, Kenny flipping the camera to show him standing successfully.

“I'm great so-” his words died in his throat as he was overcome with a wave of dizziness. The chubby man tried to grab on to something to stop himself from falling, flailing around for a moment before his legs gave out, vision going black as he collapsed against something hard.

….

When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was something soft under him, trying to blink his vision into focus, confused as to why one of his eyes was being slightly covered by something, reaching up to feel a bandaid resting on his forehead.

“Stan, take Kenny home. Kenny, you're lucky I don't kick your ass.” He heard his lover’s voice hiss, a slam of a door following the sound.

“Kahl?” He called, pushing his body up to a sitting position, still rather intoxicated, his movements sloppy. “Thought you had to work?”

“I did!” He was clearly still very pissed, marching himself over to the couch where the brunette was placed. “You're lucky I had enough pto to come home, I almost called an ambulance Eric!” The ginger placed the bottle he and Kenny had been drinking from in the middle of the coffee table. “And just so you know, almost an entire fucking bottle isn't a little bit!”

The chubby man looked away from his partner’s intense stare. “I…didn't mean…” He tried to figure out something to say, Kyle waiting for him to spit out some form of response. “I just wanted a buzz, I didn't mean to get drunk.” He stammered, trying to stand up again, the redhead at his side at an instant.

“You shouldn't be getting intoxicated at all!” His fiancè began leading them to their room, slinging the bigger man’s arm over his shoulder, forcing him to stay steady. “I don't care how much Kenny pressured you, you're a grown man who knows how to say no!”

Eric chuckled as he sat down on the bed, looking up at his partner with unfocused eyes. "I wish saying no had worked when I was a kid.” He leaned back to lie down, his eyes shutting as he continued to speak. “Taught me that sometimes it’s easier to just say yes to get it over with.” He was trying to tell a joke, one with a punchline his partner wouldn't ever laugh at.

Kyle didn't say anything in response, Eric forcing himself to will his eyes open once more, the green-eyed man hovering over him with the same blank expression from a few nights before on his face.

“You wanna fuck?” The brunette asked, fury filling the ginger’s face once more.

“What, no! You can barely keep yourself awake. Why the hell would I have sex with you?!”

The bigger man shrugged. “Dunno. So you're not upset anymore.” He patted the mattress next to him.

Kyle ran a hand through his hair as he climbed on his side of the bed. “Having sex is not going to change the fact that I'm upset.” His voice was somewhat softer now. “I'm upset because what you did could have seriously gotten you hurt, I could have lost you.” He gave a shaky exhale, placing a hand on his partner’s knee. “I know the guys think I'm overreacting, but you have heart issues, your meds alone put you at so much risk. What if I hadn't called, what if you drank more and…” he trailed off, face contorting in sorrow at the idea of whatever he was going to say next.

“I would have been fine.” The chubby man tried to assure.

“You don't know that.” The freckled man pulled his hand away. “And you can always say no.” He added, “Even to me. You could tell me to fuck off right now and drink every day, it would make me extremely angry, but that's your right as a human being.”

Eric moved his body closer to his lover, guilt watering in his eyes. “Kahl…I'm sorry…” He whispered sadly. “I was just sick of letting my fucked upness dictate me.” The brunette did his best to worm his way into his partner’s arms. “But I won't drink again, promise, please don't worry anymore.”

Kyle sighed, stretching his body out as he pulled the bigger man into his embrace. “I'm always gonna worry.” He kissed the top of his lover's head. “But I forgive you. I'm holding you to your promise, though.” He pulled the covers over them. “Now rest, we have an early morning tomorrow.” He began rubbing circles against Eric’s back, soothing him to sleep.

Chapter Text

Eric awoke way too soon for his liking, groaning in pain at the sound of two pans being smashed against one another, opening his eyes to see his partner already dressed for the day, making as much noise as possible.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty!” Kyle yelled with glee.

The bigger man grabbed a pillow and held it over his face, regret of his actions setting in just as his headache did.

“I'm up, I’m up, you can stop-” he couldn't finish that sentence, quickly rushing to their bathroom, dropping to his knees, retching into the toilet, his skin clammy with sweat.

The redhead rested against the doorframe, a smug look plastered across his face. “Hmm, see, if you had made better choices last night, your body wouldn't be punishing you right now.”

“Fuck you Kahl.” He heaved in between gagging. “I'll throw up on you.”

“You wouldn't dare, not unless you want to get real familiar with our couch.” The freckled man turned away, making his way back to their bedroom. “You have thirty minutes to get ready, I'm gonna start loading our things in the car!” He called, the bigger man resting his head on the edge of the toilet seat, knowing the day was going to be way too long.

….

“What happened to my forehead?” Eric asked once he had finished getting ready, walking out to the kitchen to see his lover grab his peanut butter fudge out of the fridge. He had tried to cover the gash on his skin with foundation, but as soon as he unraveled the bandage, blood began gushing from the spot, forcing him to use two butterfly stitches to keep the skin together. The chubby man hated how it looked, finding only one silver lining in the fact that he wouldn't be itchy under the tan serum.

“Oh, you don't remember, what a surprise!” The ginger grumbled in a tone of thick bitterness. “You were trying to prove you were fine by standing up.” He placed the tray down on the breakfast bar, crossing the room to grab Eric's brown leather bag off their rack by the door. “But because you were drunk as fuck you passed out and bashed your head against our kitchen counter.”

The brunette figured that he should have known something like this would happen, cursing himself for ever agreeing to go along with Kenny's stupid plan. The two of them were never good at doing things in moderation. “I’m surprised you didn't take me to the hospital, it's pretty deep.” He sighed, brushing down the red sweater he decided to wear. He hated that he was going to spend the day being self-conscious about not only his body, but his face as well.

“Yeah, well…” The ginger paused for a moment, throwing the satchel over the bigger man's shoulder. “I almost did, but I didn't want you to wake up there and freak out.”

Eric stared at him in shock, unsure of how to respond to that. He already knew his partner cared about him. Kyle had done so many things over the years to prove that, including cleaning the mess he had made a few nights ago, but hearing that he took the time to think about that, despite being pissed, made him feel so cherished.

“What's wrong?” His lover asked, face filled with concern as Eric felt a tear rush down his face. “It's nothing, my eyes are watery from my headache.” He lied, brushing away the drop from his cheek.

The taller man raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, sure.” It looked like he was going to press further, the brunette doing his best to stop him from digging deeper, not wanting to speak his feelings out loud.

“It's not a sad cry, Kahl, I'm okay.” He tried to convince.

His partner rolled his eyes. “You're lucky we're running late, come on.” The ginger picked up the tray of fudge, balancing it on his arm so he could use the other hand to pull his partner behind him. “I'll pick up McDonald's so you can take your meds.” He let go of him for just a moment to lock the door, Eric unable to take his eyes off the man he loved so much.

“You look so handsome.” The bigger man hummed as they began making their way downstairs, admiring how stunning his partner managed to make a green flannel and blue jeans look.

“You're being awfully nice this morning.” Kyle noticed, leaving his lover's side to unlock their car. “What are you planning?” he asked in suspicion.

“Can I not just enjoy how hot you are?” Eric leaned his arms on top of the roof of their car. “Your hair looks so good today, and God, you look so fucking sexy in green.”

The ginger felt his face flush, avoiding looking back at the shorter man. “Shut up and get in the car.” He snapped as he got into the driver's seat, Eric obeying his demand with a smirk. He loved how flustered he could make his fiancé.

For once, the brunette didn't want McDonald's; he didn't want anything to eat, his stomach threatening to empty itself after every torturous bite of his McMuffin.

“You look good too.” Kyle professed, breaking the silence, the bigger man sipping at his Sprite in an attempt to relieve his nausea. “You know I love you in red.”

Eric was instantly smitten by his lover’s words; they didn't show affection this directly often, making every time they did feel magical to the brunette. “Red and green, that's us.” He leaned his head against the window, trying to focus on the wonderful feeling of his partner instead of how disgusting he felt. “Gotta get a cat so we can dress it in purple.”

“Make it a dog, and I'm down,” Kyle muttered, getting a playful slap to his arm over his comment.

“No way, we're getting a cat first!” Eric argued, shifting as he tried to extend his limbs as much as he possibly could in the small space. “We could probably have one now, if it wasn't for the apartment's stupid no pet rule.”

“There wouldn't be enough space, the poor thing would go stir crazy.” The redhead looked down at his phone as it began blaring an alarm, quick to shut it off, keeping his main focus on the road. “Hurry up and finish eating so you can take your meds.”

Eric groaned, rubbing at his sore forehead. “I'm seriously never drinking again.”

“Good.” Kyle reached over to grab his hand while being stopped at a red light, pulling his knuckles to his lips. “You got music for us?”

The bigger man nodded. “Yeah, let me take my pills, then I'll put on the playlist I made.” He shoved the last bite of his food in his mouth, grimacing as he swallowed it down, quick to chase it with his drink.

He opened his bag, pulling out his pills, getting a sip of liquid before throwing them in his mouth, finishing his Sprite as he successfully got down his medicine.

The brunette grabbed the aux cord, plugging it into the end of his phone, opening his Spotify to put on the list of songs he had crafted.

The first to play was “Video Games” by Lana Del Rey, an artist that both he and his fiancé loved.

“This is my favorite song by her.” The redhead hummed with a smile, stealing a glance at the shorter man.

“I know that's why I put it on here.” The brunette let himself look at the other, grinning back at him.

“You wanna know why I like it so much?” He asked, the chubby man’s curiosity being successfully piqued.

“Spill Jew, why does this song speak to your soul?” He wondered in an overly dramatic tone, his lover’s eyes flickering back at the road.

“Makes me think of you.” He admitted, Eric feeling heat creep over his cheeks at the confession. “The first time I thought I might actually not hate your guts, we were on my couch playing Call of Duty-”

“Oh shit, I think I remember that!” Eric realized. “You and Stan were fighting for some reason, Kenny was busy watching his sister, so we decided to hang out by ourselves.” He recalled being so confused as to why he was excited to spend time alone with the other boy in a way he hadn't been with Kenny or Stan.

“Yeah,” Kyle confirmed. “I started to think how, even though we fought all the time, we liked the same games and music, then I looked at you…”

The brunette batted his doe eyes. “I'm waiting.” He encouraged, grins still plastered across both of their lips.

“I felt this wave of emotion that I never had before. I didn't know what it was at the time, I just knew that I wanted you in my life for as long as I am around to live it.”

Eric threw his arms around the other, heart swelling at his words, the redhead gripping tight to the steering wheel. “Hey! Hey! I'm driving fatass!” He swore, the brunette showing no care as he squeezed him tight.

“You can't just say the most romantic thing ever and not expect me to hold you, you're lucky I’m not blowing you right now,” The bigger man insisted, placing kiss after kiss on his cheek. “You big mushy bastard, that could have been a part of your vows.” He ran his fingers across his chest, drawing small circles as he leaned his head on the taller man's shoulder.

“Oh, my vows are so much more romantic than that.” He promised, taking the next opportunity when they stopped to pull his lover into a passionate kiss, his hand gripping the brunette’s thigh.

“Not more romantic than mine.” Eric challenged as he pressed their foreheads together. “I'm gonna make you cry with my sweet words.”

“You can try, but there's no way it's gonna be better than mine-” A honk of someone behind them caused them to both jump apart, Kyle anxiously taking the wheel. “Now stop distracting me, I don’t want to get us in an accident.” He huffed.

Eric nuzzled himself against the window, planning to nap away his headache. He lifted his phone, adding the song to their wedding playlist before closing his eyes, falling asleep with his lover on his mind.

….

“Wake up fatass, we're here.” Kyle shook him gently. The brunette stirred at the contact, stretching his limbs out the best he could in his seat, unclicking his seatbelt once he was fully awake.

“My head feels a lot better now.” He sleepily slurred, a yawn following his words. “What time is it?”

“Nine ten, only a little bit behind schedule.” The redhead informed as he got out of the car, opening the door to the backseat to grab the fudge he had put in the backseat.

Eric moved to stand, enjoying doing so after such a long time spent curled up against his car door. “Looks like it's just my mom here so far.” Her car was the only other one parked outside, not counting the car of the woman who lived there.

“If anything bothers you about any of your extended family, just let me know, we can get out of here whenever you need to.” The ginger offered as they began making their way to the green house.

The bigger man knocked his knuckles against the door, giving a small scoff. “I'm sure I'll be fine.” He didn't want his lover to spend all of Thanksgiving worrying about him, deciding then if something bad happened, he would either deal with it or step outside until he could.

Ike was the one to open the door, the seventeen-year-old's face lighting up at the sight of the two, rushing to throw his arms around the bigger man. “Finally! I've missed you Eric!"

“I've missed you too, you little cannuck.” He patted the teen's back, smirking as his partner glared at him.

Kyle cleared his throat in a forced way, wanting to get the same acknowledgement.

Ike pulled away from the bigger man to shove his brother. “Guess I missed you, too.” The black haired teen teased, the freckled man ruffling his hair with his hand.

“Is Mom in the kitchen?” The ginger asked as they made it into the house, Eric being the one to close the door behind him.

“Yeah, so is Miss Cartman,” Ike confirmed, throwing himself down on the couch, grabbing one of his switch controllers to extend it in Eric's direction. “Come on, I've gotten better at Smash, I'm taking you down this time!” He enthused, the bigger man wasting no time in taking it from the teen.

“You are so on!” The brunette climbed over the back of the sofa, the old furniture creaking under his weight.

Kyle gave a chuckle as he watched them begin a match. “I call playing the winner.” He said before making his way into the next room to see his mother.

Eric barely beat the other in their game, jumping to his feet in celebration. “ Take that, you little dildo! Still undefeated!” He taunted, the black haired boy crossing his arms.

“You just got lucky.” He claimed in a sour tone.

The chubby man was going to tease him further when he heard his mother's voice. “Muffin! Where's my hugs and kisses!?” She extended her arms, Eric placing the controller down to pull her close, placing his lips to her cheek.

“It's great to see you, Eric.” Kyle's mother added, giving him a quick hug once Liane let go.

“I'm happy to see both of you. I'm so lucky to have not only the greatest mom, but the greatest mother-in-law.” He flattered, “By chance are any of the appetizers ready?”

“Fatass,” his partner coughed discreetly, Eric glaring daggers at him in response.

He didn't get an answer to his food-related question, his mother becoming distracted by the cut on his forehead, pulling him up by his chin.

“What happened to your face pumpkin?” She asked, fingers brushing over the bandages resting there.

The brunette's eyes lit with a glint of mischief, glancing over to Kyle, who was standing next to his mom. “Oh, you know, just a little domestic spat.” He lied, snickering as he watched his lover's jaw drop at his words.

“What, what, what?!” Shelia shouted, turning a furious gaze to her son. “I did not raise my baby to hit his-”

“That's not what happened!” The freckled man denied. “He's lying! Eric quit fucking around and tell them you're lying-”

“Watch your language around your younger brother!’ the red-headed woman demanded, Ike giving a laugh at the bigger woman's order.

“I'm almost eighteen, Mom, I can handle hearing fuck.” The Canadian argued, pushing his mother further into rage.

She was going to scold him when there was a knock on the door, taking a deep breath before going to answer it.

“We will talk about this later young man.” She hissed before opening the door to a group that Eric knew as his family.

He prepared himself for the worst as he watched them inside. “You must be Miss Brofloskie, I'm Stinky.” The large man shook her hand, the woman giving him a smile.

“Please, call me Shelia.” She insisted, another woman coming up to introduce herself. “I'm his wife, Lisa, and these are our kids, Fred, Alexandra, and Elvin.”

“Nice to meet you.” The woman introduced as Alexandra greeted. “You have a very lovely home.”

“Suck up.” Elvin spat under his breath, pulling out a brown vape from his pocket, blowing a fat cloud towards his sister.

“Do you know how bad that is for the environment!” She did her best to wave the smoke out of her face as she chastised her younger sibling, the brown haired teen simply shrugging in response.

“See, total hippy,” Eric mumbled into his partner’s ear.

“Elvin, keep your smoke out of your sister’s face!” His mother ordered before turning her attention back to the red-headed woman. “Sorry about him, he can be a little, well, rude.” She admitted bluntly.

Sheila’s eyes bounced from the brown haired teen back, her lips scrunching to the side as she chose what to say next. “That's quite alright, I know how hard teenagers can be, I have one myself.” She gestured to Ike.

Elvin lit up at the sight of Smash on the TV, rushing over to the black haired teen. “Cool, can I play?!” He asked, the Canadian blinking in surprise before handing him his controller.

“Sure, but I'm really good.” He warned, the other rolling his eyes in response.

“So am I kid, bring it!” The fatter teen dared.

“Oh, brother, it's so good to see you!” Liane called, pulling him along with his wife into her arms.

“Good to see ya too sis. Howard should be here soon, he had a little trouble with his truck,” Stinky explained before pushing past her, setting his sight on Eric.

The brunette stiffened as he was clasped hard on the shoulder by his uncle. “My, look how much you've grown,” he awed, the chubby man giving a nervous chuckle.

“Good to see you Uncle Stinky.”

“Yes, it's been way too long.” The older man turned his head to Kyle. “This must be the misses, I mean, mister.” He corrected, pulling the redhead into a handshake. “I remember you came to visit my mom's house for Christmas, Kyle, right?”

The ginger man shook his hand firmly. “Yes sir, it's nice to meet you again.” His polite words caused his partner’s uncle to chuckle.

“No need to be so formal son, Stinky is just fine.” He let go, patting the top of the freckled man’s arm. “Heard you two are getting hitched next spring, we might as well already be family.”

Kyle's mother gave a hum at the thought. “Goodness, I can't believe that it's so soon.” Tears began to fill her eyes. “You're really all grown up,” she sniffled, “If only your father were here to see-” the woman was too stricken with grief to finish that thought. “I’m sorry, I need more wine.” She then darted into the kitchen, Kyle rushing to follow her.

“Mom, it's okay!” He attempted to comfort, leaving the brunette alone with the others in the living room.

Eric took the time without his fiancé to process his family members’ presence.

He was relieved that they didn't make any weird comments about him having a male partner; everything seemed pretty normal. He made small talk with Alexandra while watching in amusement as Elvin began bickering with Ike over Smash. For a moment, he started to relax, convincing himself that everything would be okay. Even his uncle Howard, who arrived only a few minutes before dinner, was pleasant towards him and his partner.

“Just keep in mind, if you hurt my nephew, I know people who own pig farms. I can make your body disappear with no evidence,” the ex-convict threatened, Kyle giving an uneasy look to Eric before responding.

“Don't worry, I'll take good care of him,” the freckled man assured, the brunette's heart fluttering at his fiancé’s promise.

He couldn't believe they were going to be married so soon; he couldn't wait to call the ginger his husband, to spend the rest of his life with him.

“Good, I can see he thinks the world of you, he's looking at you like a love-sick puppy.” Howard teased, Eric's face going red at the claim.

“Hey! I'm not that!” He grumbled as Kyle took his hand in his.

“No need to be shy, I like that you're crazy about me.” The ginger claimed, grinning wildly at his flustered partner.

“Am not!” The bigger man contested, “You were the one being all gay in the car!”

“What can I say, I'm crazy about you too.” He soothed, Eric pulling his hand away as he went to take his seat at the table. “It's cute when you get embarrassed.”

“Whatever Jew.” He pouted as the other took his seat next to him.

Eric's uncle was smiling at them both. “Young love, isn't it beautiful?” The other man mused, Liane giggling as she helped Sheila carry in food from the kitchen. “Why yes, they've been going strong since high school. I am so proud of them for keeping their relationship so healthy over the years.”

Kyle's mother made a sound of agreement as she set the table. “It’s a most welcome surprise.”

The brunette felt his lover's hand on his knee, musing on how far they had come with one another.

Kyle had the honor of cutting the turkey, proud to do so in the absence of his father. Everyone happily chowed down on their food while talking about random, trivial things. The entire scene brought a warmth to Eric's chest, his guard being fully let down as he enjoyed his Thanksgiving.

“So Howard, I've been meaning to ask you,” Stinky mumbled with a mouth full of food, “Did you share a prison with Jesse?”

Eric froze, his fork in mid-air as he wrapped his mind around what, or rather who, his family was talking about.

“Oh no!” Howard shook his head. “I would have shanked the bitch if I did.”

“Who's Jesse?” Elvin wondered, not aware of what transpired as it had before he was born.

“Nobody,” the brunette breathed, his voice shaky, still not able to move himself from his position. He was surprised that he even had the power to speak.

“It's alright Eric, I'd say he's old enough to know about it now.” Stinky dismissed, turning his attention towards his son's inquiry. “My brother, or he was my brother, I don't consider him family anymore because he raped your older cousin when he was five. That's why we don't talk with him.”

Eric felt eyes on him as he kept his head down. He couldn't believe he dared to let himself relax; he knew something like this would happen.

Against his better judgment, he let himself look to his side, taking in the sight of Kyle's face.

The brunette hoped that his lover would have the blank expression he wore when he had his ptsd attack, that the information just given wouldn't visibly bother him, but of course, reality wasn't that kind.

The ginger man looked absolutely gutted, his brow furrowed in sorrow, staring at him with what Eric assumed to be the thing he hated the most, pity.

With that assumption, he pushed his chair back, placing both of his hands on the table as he moved to stand, silently walking his way to the front door.

Kyle was quick to get up, following his fiancé as he made his way outside, closing the door behind him without care. “Eric!” He ran to the other, placing a hand on his shoulder, a touch that the bigger man instantly shrugged away from.

“So you just lied to my face when you said you wouldn't see me any differently.” He hissed, not daring to look back at him.

“What? No! Baby, I don't see you any differently!” The redhead claimed, the chubby man coming to a halt at his words.

“Then why did you…” The heat in his words died as he began to sob, feeling completely helpless, just as he did all those years ago. “Then why did you look at me like that?” He held his hand over his forehead, shame prickling under his skin as he cried.

“Like what?” Kyle pried gently, Eric scoffing at his question.

The brunette wished he could just drive away, cursing that the keys to his car were in his lover’s pocket, the fact only adding to his trapped feeling. “You know what!” He screamed, his legs starting to rush further down the street. “Just go away! Leave me alone, I don't need your pity-”

“I don't pity you Eric!” The ginger kept up with his pace; no doubt the entire neighborhood could hear them, but neither cared; both were too involved with the other. “I already figured something like that happened, I just…”

The bigger man stopped, giving his lover the chance to explain himself.

“Hearing it like that made me sad, angry, fucking disgusted that a grown man did that to a child.” He hesitantly took another step forward. “But I don't see you as weak, I-”

“He wasn't the only one.” Eric admitted, his body starting to shake.“One of my mom's clients did the same thing a year later.” He was unable to stop himself from spilling his past, a part of him afraid that if he didn't do it now, someone else would. “When I was pretending to be a robot to prank Butters, there were men who exposed themselves to me.” He wrapped his arms around his side, his hands bawling into fists. “My hand had an entire fucking sexual relationship with a Ben Affleck, and-” his breath hitched, his knees bucking as they threatened to collapse. “There's so much more, some I can't even remember.” There was a part of him that expected his lover to turn away after hearing all of that, sniffling “How could you not see me differently?” He started heading towards the ground, Kyle catching him effortlessly, holding him from behind as he kept him from hitting the ground.

“Eric, none of that defines who you are.” The ginger placed his chin on top of the other's head. “What happened to you doesn't make you weak, you were a victim, but that's not all you are.” The chubby man did his best to turn himself to face the other, Kyle helping him do so, supporting most of his weight with his arms. “You are my loudmouth, irritating, crazy, beautiful, future husband.” Eric looked up at him with wet eyes, feeling silly that he thought his lover might leave. He knew by now that the redhead cared for him too much to abandon him now. The bond they shared was stronger than anything the past, present, or future could throw at them. “Bad things happened to you, unfair things that shouldn't happen to anyone, and it hurts me to think of you having to go through them.” Kyle kept his eyes locked with the brunette's as he spoke. “But it doesn't change who you are, or our relationship, I’m not going to treat you any differently.”

Eric lifted his hand to brush away his own tears, his lover helping him by swiping some away with his own thumb. “Really?” he asked.

“Really.” He confirmed, his grip becoming soft as his partner held himself up again. “If anything, I see you as stronger, that you went through all of that and still put in work to change for the better.” The redhead placed his palm on the side of his fiance's face. “I am so lucky to have you.”

The chubby man leaned forward to pull him into a breathtaking kiss, his face still wet as they collided to be as close as humanly possible. “Damn you and your gay little speeches." He panted, pushing their lips together again, feverishly moving his mouth against him as if it were his only source of air.

“Are you two faggots ever coming back inside?” Ike called from the doorway of Kyle's home.

Eric rested his head against his partner’s chest as the other separated their lips.

“Yeah, we'll be there soon!” The redhead answered, his brother rolling his eyes as he made his way out to the sidewalk where the two of them embraced.

“It's nothing to be ashamed of, man.” The teen assured Eric. “It happened to me when I was in kindergarten.” The brunette couldn't believe that he had almost forgotten about everything that happened with Miss Stevenson. It was no wonder Kyle knew how to handle his turmoil; he most likely had gone through similar situations with Ike.

The Canadian tapped his brother with the back of his hand. “We’ll beat the shit out of anyone else who brings it up.” He promised, his lover nodding in agreement.

“Fuck yeah we will.” The freckled man let go of him to lift his fists. “You know I have a mean left hook, I'll make them forget it even happened.”

Eric began laughing, the cold air filling his lungs as he looked at the two of them with admiration, pulling them both into another hug.

“You guys are such nerds.” He murmured, both of them helping him feel ready to face the people inside. “I'm the lucky one Kahl, I get you as my partner and this awesome little dude as my brother-in-law. I really won the jackpot.”

“I'm obviously the better perk here,” Ike declared as he broke the huddle they were in.

Kyle pulled him into a headlock, messing up his hair as they started to head back to the house. “Hey, last time I checked, you don't suck his dick, that’s gotta put me above you.”

“Gross dude! I don't wanna think about that.” He tried to push him off. “Stop messing up my hair dickhead!” The teen complained, Eric letting go of a sigh of relief.

The rest of the night went on fairly well; no one dared to bring up the topic again, leaving the brunette to enjoy Shelia’s cooking peace as he let the entire ordeal slip out of his mind.

So maybe his therapist was right, telling Kyle did seem to help the way he felt about everything. He was no longer haunted by the idea of his partner seeing him as damaged goods or pitying him because of what he went through. The redhead was true to his claims; he didn't treat him any differently after that information was shared. He still teased him all the time, he had almost no problem being rough in the bedroom, he still had drops, or what Eric referred to as his ‘weird sex guilt’ after rough lovemaking, but that was nothing new, he experienced that before he knew about the brunette’s trauma. It was almost like Eric had never said anything.

There was only one small thing that his lover might have done in response.

Weeks later, on a night long after Thanksgiving, they were both cuddling on the couch watching television, Eric mindlessly flipping through channels when he stopped on the news, the reporter's words catching his interest.

He listened as the screen informed him that Ben Affleck had been deemed a missing person, his head slowly turning to his partner.

“Damn that's crazy,” Kyle muttered, his tone void of any emotion as he took the remote from his hand, changing the channel with a click of a button. “Guess he got what he deserved.”

Eric gave him a skeptical look, unsure why he couldn’t shake the feeling that the ginger had something to do with it.

“Everything on tv sucks right now, wanna play video games?” His lover asked, distracting him from the suspicion in his head.

“Hell yeah, let's play Mario Kart!” He decided, Kyle getting up to turn on their switch.

So what if his partner made someone who hurt him mysteriously disappear? He didn't mind it; in fact, he believed it to be the best reaction he could have ever asked for.