"He's Craig?" the teachers would whisper.
"Yeah, that's him alright," the other would whisper.
They pitied him. They hated him.
"That's Stan Marsh's best friend?"
The name was salt on wound as they mentioned him. His best friend, his only friend.
The one that he recently lost.
"Yeah, that's him," the first one whispered once more.
Why couldn't they just shut up?
He was the lone wolf.
He was Craig Tucker.
Taking a thin, almost bony hand, he twisted the classroom door open, and walked in, allowing his stormy gray eyes to look up and look for his seat.
He didn't bother gazing around the room, the murderous intent rising and practically rolling off of them, probably in hopes of scaring him, intimidating him.
He wouldn't fall for it.
It had been half a year since the unfortunate accident of Stan Marsh dying in a fire.
His best friend. His 'half- brother'.
The emotionless male walked through the desks, settling down in his seat, as he had all these years.
He lightly touched the bandages at his neck, remembering, with a barely passed shudder, the feeling of his own mother's wrapped around his neck, squeezing the life out of him.
It had been such a long time, you would think he was used to this.
It was just a word to him. Since many, many people had told him, some to his face, and others behind his back, but what they said was all the same.
"Something like you doesn't deserve a heart..."
All of a sudden, the door slammed open, and a male, with the darkest green eyes turned to stare lazily at the class, bright, almost crazily red hair in lose curls hanged around his head, everything else was pulled back in a loose pony-tail.
"Class, this is the new student," Mrs. Garrison, despite the fact that they were all seventh grade now, was still their homeroom teacher, and thankfully, he/she only taught their homeroom class, "Introduce yourself, you have a mouth, you can use it for talking," she/he grumbled, before sitting down on his chair.
"I'm Kyle Brofloski," the male said, his voice strong, scratchy as well, as if someone had taken their nails and ripped apart the inside of his neck. Craig had that sensation before, except it was on the outside of his neck, occasionally his arms, but on multiple occasions actually.
His orange turtleneck wrapped around him warmly, green jeans sticking to him more than they should.
And then, he just stopped, as he whispered, "Craig?"
The black-haired male blinked, and pointed at himself.
He could feel the glares of people around him.
Oh, another reason for them to hate him.
"Craig, is... is that you?" he whispered quietly, emerald eyes softening.
"...Who are you?" Craig asked, non-to-kindly.
A bright smile appeared on his face, bright sparkles decorating his eyes.
"My name is..." he paused, gulping once, he coughed, a bright red blush appearing on his face, "I'm... Kyle," he said softly, "I have... been looking for you."
The male didn't bother with answering, there was no point in hoping that he could be different.
There is only so much you could hope for after awhile.
"I... um," the male gulped, apparently not taking the hint that he didn't like him, and instead, was blushing before his glanced fell onto the ground, and slowly back up to Craig.
He wasn't paying attention though.
"Don't bother with him," Tokken's voice came from behind him, as he clasped a hand on the male's shoulder.
That's right, he was the 'unlucky' person that had to sit next to Craig.
"What do you mean?" the male turned to face him.
"As in, the last guy to get close to him died," Cylde jumped in, eager to kick at his old best friend, and back up his best friend.
"Everyone that likes him gets hurt," Tokken continued, "You shouldn't get too close."
The male blinked, and Craig readied himself for the submission to the group, leaving him with one more 'enemy'.
"So?" the male blinked, genuinely confused, "Then I won't get hurt if I love him, duh," and then, he turned to Craig, got down on one knee and said, "I love you."
Everything stopped. Jaws dropped. Eyes snapped over.
"You are beautiful," the male continued, ignoring everything else, everyone else, "And I've been in love with you for half a year."
Half a year.
Maybe he mistaken him for Stan?
Had it been any other time, and Craig would have been trying hard not to laugh at everyone else's expression, but no, it was him this was for.
The first time anyone had said something like that, to him.
There was no lie in his words, soft emerald orbs gently lingering at him.
"What? Are you insane?" Cylde gaped.
The emerald eyed male stood up, and turned to face the brunette, pure confidence, and a tinge of irritation showing off of him, "If being insane means that I can love Craig Tucker, than that's what I will do. If being sane means that I have to stop and force myself to feel something I don't, or to force myself to stop feeling my emotions, than I don't want to be sane," he said, almost coldly.
There was no doubt in his voice.
He truly, deeply, completely felt everything that he said.
"You act like it, but you should know as well," the male continued, "You never feel satisfied when you lie. Especially to yourself."
The silence was deafening, as Craig felt himself gape. With the rest of the class.
Then, the emerald eyes turned back to him, "I love you, and no matter what happens, I will still love you."
And with that, Craig ran out the door.
Sure, it wasn't the manliest thing to do, but what else was he supposed to do when he didn't want to talk to him.
The surprised, heart-wrenching, longing, almost broken look that crossed his face.
The next time he actually had to talk to the male was in the lunchroom, where the two had bumped into each other in the lunch line.
"Hello, Craig," the male said, a soft smile on his face.
The male stared at him, no expression spilling before he blinked and flipped him off.
The male was surprised, and instead, blushed.
The male looked at him, confused, before a male snorted in a laughing fit behind him.
"Hey Gaywads, get out of here, no one likes you."
It was Cartman.
Craig, who was used to this, flipped him off before he turned to walk out. It was going to get ugly is someone else jumped in too, and no matter how strong he was, he couldn't take on the entire school by himself. No, he knew that from multiple experiences.
"Hey fatass," Kyle growled, "You talking to Craig when you said that?"
The male snorted, "Who else would be spreading the pixie dust?"
"Well, I'm guessing that your lobs of fat does more than enough to get rid of them," he replied, "Why would you be worried?"
No one was expecting that, and the cafeteria slowly fell silent.
"What was that, fag?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," the mock-apologetic in his voice was salt on wound as the male smirked, "You mean those wrinkles aren't from age? You better be careful then, someone would be poorly mistaken."
Secretly, he wondered about the reason why he was confident, to the point of border-line arrogant.
Whispers were crossing the cafeteria, some in fear, some with comedy, all going at the speed of a ping-pong match.
Kyle turned to look at him, bright emerald ones gazing at dark gray ones, before a smile appeared on his face.
"I'll protect you," he said, "I love you enough to kill for you. I love you enough to die for you. I love you enough to give up everything I have for you."
Craig felt his face heating, up, before furiously burying in back down, he narrowed his eyes, "Don't fuck with me, Brofloski," he growled.
The male looked surprised, before blushing, "You... You know my name," he whispered.
An eyebrow rose from Craig's directing, "Of course, you blurted it out in the middle of class."
"But..." the emerald eyes, if anything, looked fully hopefully and surprised, as he gaped at him, "You remembered."
The grin was fool-proof.
If anything, Craig was really creeped out by the... stranger.
But the thought that he could cause someone that much happiness, that really got the male.
How long had it been since he could get someone happy by saying their name?
As easily as he could make the male happy, two, fat, large, wrapped around Kyle's neck, no doubt trying to strangle him.
"Brofloski," he gasped, ready to jump in and save him.
Why? Why would he want to protect the total stranger? He was just like everyone else, he didn't care about everyone-
The male shook his head, gentle emerald eyes never leaving his as he whispered, "Step back," he said.
The male obediently did so, it wasn't like he cared or anything.
"Not so strong, are you? Fucking fa-"
"If being a fag means that Craig will smile," Kyle gritted his teeth, before flipping the much larger, heavier male over his shoulder and onto the ground, his back slamming against the ground with an echoing 'thud' jumping around the now silent cafeteria, "Than that's worth it."
"That's not fair..." he heard some girls whine, "All the good ones are gay..."
Faintly, he wondered if they just saw the scene, with Kyle flipping Cartman right over his shoulder and onto the ground like it was nothing.
Finally emerald eyes turned back to Craig, and he grinned larger, "Don't worry, you only need one hand to take out the trash," he said happily.
The male stayed gaping at him, before quickly getting in control of his emotions. He sighed, and walked away, trying his best to ignore that same broken look from before.
It felt like a dream, with word spreading all over the school, to stop messing with Craig, as Kyle found each and everyone of them and literally threw them away into the trash.
It was pitiful, almost, how his dream, all this time, was for someone to turn his direction and smile, not the cold, malicious grins and smirks, but a kind, gentle smile. And now that someone was treating him like something, he was actually leaning towards him.
Half the school was missing by his next period, and that was the time everyone finally stopped bothering Craig.
Craig, for once, was thankful of the male, but knew better than to say anything.
He thought he knew people like him, the people that just kept waiting for the moment that the male would turn to him, and laugh it all in his face.
Like what Bebe and Wendy did to him.
After that, he refused to trust people, staying close to his 'family' until they snapped back at him.
That's when he truly learned the definition of alone.
And then, in the tunnel of complete and utter loneliness and coldness and pain and fea-
He came, bright emerald eyes gazing back, a soft blush on his face..
Craig growled darkly.
He knew better by now, he knew not to be swayed by these kinds of things. He knew better than to have any emotions.
Bright, red roses stared back at him, when he walked towards his desk, "The fuck?" he asked.
"I... I thought you might... like them," the voice came from behind, and he inwardly sighed, turning around and he saw that beauti-
No, he wasn't gay.
"I don't," the male dead-panned, "Get away from me."
"...Know something, Craig," the voice was soft and gentle, and the words attempted to soothe him, "I will protect you," Kyle said, a confident grin plastered on his face, "Just call me, okay? Don't hesitate."
After that, he kept to his word, he never came near Craig, but then again, after some of the things Kyle pulled, no one came near him.
Although it was nice to know that no one would bother him, a small part of him was guilty for harshly throwing words back in someone's face.
He was becoming what he had hated.
The thought made him internally wince, as he knew better than to show any kind of emotion elsewhere.
So why did he care that Kyle wasn't coming near him anymore?
He saw, barely, glimpses of the male, but always found something in his tracks. Small signs that Kyle was in love with him.
There was a single red rose, basking on his desk in full glory, and full bloom.
The girls around him gasped and talked about the definition, it meant, 'I love you.'
Within the day though, the flower wilted due to lack of water, Craig wonders if Kyle would stop loving him and wilt away.
He quickly shook that thought away, before he found some small thing in each of his classrooms, waiting for him, on his desk and notes stuffed in his locker.
"You look beautiful today," was the morning note in his locker.
"I love you, Craig," was the second not he found, with the rose, on his desk.
But these were the little things that made Craig, slowly enough, to look forward to something.
"You're eyes sparkle beautifully," it was the note that he found on his second period desk, with a small box of milk chocolate.
An eyebrow raised, no one knew about his sweet tooth.
"I adore you," the fourth note, in his third period note, with a smiley face drawn on it.
Fifth period, he was stuck in the cafeteria, where one of the lunch attendants passed him a chocolate chip cookie and said, "This is from Kyle," before going on her merry way.
One of his favorites was the following period, where he found a notebook on his desk, and as he sat down and flipped through it, it was notes (not answers) for the one subject he had a hard time figuring out.
Creepy, but he needed it, so with a barely visible smile on his face, he studied the notes, he noticed how easily he was able to comprehend them as well.
He had a test on it the following period, where there was a note that said, "Good luck."
Without anything else written, Craig thoroughly knew that it was Kyle.
Hell, everyone knew that it was Kyle.
Many of the girls would sigh as Craig continuously got the small gifts, and notes.
It helped a lot, he felt a lot better, somewhat becoming braver, less self-loathing.
He felt good.
Something he would have never said if it had been anyone or anything else.
"I believe in you," that was the last note in his locker that day.
And for the first time, he couldn't stop the bundle of warm feelings escape him as he finally smiled.
The best part (more like creepy) was that Kyle seemed to know all the little things about him, what he liked, what he was having trouble with.
The worst part was, when Craig really wanted to thank him and give back, the male was nowhere to be found.
And soon enough, Craig began to think, "I wonder why he hasn't dropped me," he would think, before falling asleep.
But the moment he saw the note on his desk, a blue (his favorite color) envelope with a green heart, he couldn't stop the slight surprise that came before he leaned and picked it up, reading it, and always,
always, always, feel better.
"You're smile is worth waking up everyday for."
Words that he longed to hear, from anyone, was written.
And Craig Tucker couldn't find it in his heart, by the time the second week was over, that someone would be this sincere about it.
It's been a month, without Craig realizing it, for the first time, that a month had gone by.
It felt shorter.
And then, the science room went ablaze, Craig trapped within it. The fire alarm ringing, piercing all other signs as he heard some more screams. A hand shoved him back, as he slipped and fell onto the ground, watching other evacuate like insects.
He coughed harshly, wondering where in the world he went wrong, and came to a short conclusion.
It wasn't him, it was the others, looks like they still hated him.
Craig Tucker didn't blame them either, coughing quietly, he pondered silently on whether or not it was okay if he just died, he knew that many people would be so much more happier.
And then, a flash of the male who had been trying to get Craig to know that he was for him, and although he probably should've felt disgust, he felt guilt.
"Kyle," he whispered, he never got to thank the male, for making the last couple of days really worth it.
And as if the words were a charm, the door slammed open.
"CRAIG!" the male screamed, and rushed at him.
The male smiled at him, "I promised you that I will come if you called," he whispered.
The male blinked, gray eyes not bothering to cover up the surprise within him.
"I'll protect you," the male said, flicking his red-head back, and grinned, "No matter what."
Craig raised an eyebrow as the bright emerald eyes came down to meet him eye-to-eye, on the ground, at the corner Craig was hiding at.
Skinny arms, now that Craig thought of it, came around him, and gently, but firmly, stood him up.
"I'll get you safe," the male said, smiling gently before grasping his hand and leading the way.
Craig, without another thought, blindly followed him.
The two slowly exited the door, the intense heat collapsing and surrounding them, Craig gulped in fear, coughing some more.
"We're almost there," the male whispered quietly.
The black-haired male nodded.
And then, the loud creaking sound from above got both of their attention while Kyle cursed, spinning around and knocking Craig over and against the wall.
The collision against the wall hurt, and Craig growled darkly, before opening his eyes to see pained green ones shut, a large piece of ceiling and burning lights scraping on to his back.
Thankfully, Craig didn't see any more.
A pang of guilt flooded him as emerald eyes opened to stare deeply, and a soft smile appeared on his face.
"I'm sorry if that hurts," he whispered.
It was then that Craig finally dropped the last pieces together.
He was serious this entire time, and it was Craig that had mercilessly pushed him away.
The same way people had pushed him away.
Wow. He was the bastard.
"I... I'm sorry," he whispered, cursing himself for sounding so weak.
The male blinked, surprised, before they relaxing completely and into a warm smile that Craig just gaped at.
"Thank you," he said, before standing off, shrugging off the weight of the ceiling as he lent a hand out, "Will you come with me?"
A numb nod, as the male stood up, surprised that his long legs were okay after the entire crash.
When Kyle said that he was going to protect, his doubt for the male completely disappeared.
After some time, they finally made it out of the fire, and two males, that Craig never seen before came rushing at them, with a team of medics behind them.
"Kyel!" the first male, who shot a dirty glare at him, before turning back to the male who seemed surprised at them, "Sheet!" he cried out, a french accent rolling out of his mouth with the cigarette smoke
that escalated into the sky, "Get medic and 'elp 'im!' he screamed.
Without another word, Kyle was forced to leave his crush's side and walk towards them, and when the male's back was turned, Craig winced at the wounds covering his body, before he fell over.
"Kyle!" he screamed, rushing towards the male as he was put onto a bed to be carried off into an operating room at the hospital.
"I... I'll be okay, Craig," he whispered quietly, "...S...Stay safe," he smiled gently.
Craig gulped, grasping onto his the shaking hand, and nodded, "Get better soon."
He silently wonders why he cared about the creepy man's life so much.
"I love you."
The last words that fell off of his mouth, before bright, tired, emerald eyes closed, and the hand in Craig's went limp, falling out of his grip like water.
"Kyle?" he whispered as the male was taken from him.
'I'm open, you're closed
Where I follow, you'll go
I worry I won't see your face
Light up again
Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find
You and I
A/N: I might continue this, but it was supposed to be a one-shot to get my feelings out.
The next time Craig saw Kyle was Monday, after the whole fire accident, there were more people that took one look at him and ran away.
He didn't really care anymore.
And then, the bright emerald eyes found his.
"Good morning, Cra-"
"KYLE!" the cry came before a British male latched onto the red-head from behind.
"Gregory?" the male gasped.
""ello, Kyel," Craig turned around as another male, the one that pulled Kyle off of him before, came closer, and narrowed his eyes at Craig.
This was the first time Craig ever saw someone taller than him.
"Christophe, you touch him and I'll amputate you," the male growled, all emotion leaving his face.
"I still don't understand why you would take such... a weak master," Gregory sighed behind him, running a hand through his gelled back blond hair.
"Agreed, we were better partnerz," the deep rumble came through but was cut off when red-head threw his shoe at him, before yanking Craig to side.
"Craig's my master. I love him. If you hurt him in any way manageable, you won't be alive for long," he growled darkly.
A snort came through, "I don't care about 'im," Christophe replied, "Only you."
The hazel eyes softened as the owner for the other pair of dark brown eyes sighed.
"Kyle, he's going to trash you again."
"If being trashed means that he'll be safe and happy," Kyle nodded, "Then that's what will happen to me."
Craig was so confused.
"Don't worry," the shorter male turned to him, the same, soft smile appearing on his face, "No matter what happens, I'll protect you."
"I'm... confused," Craig blinked, trying hard not to freak out.
"Great, 'e's uselez too," the frenchman snorted again.
"Christophe," the stern voice made the male stop, and scowl.
"You have no taste in men."
"I could say the same to you."
Eyes came back to look at gray ones, as the male smiled.
"I am yours, from now until I am dismissed," he said, "Please use me however you want."
Craig Tucker gaped, so very confused. He looked up to see two identically scary glares stare back at him, and the gentle emerald eyes from the one in front of him.
What was he supposed to do?
"I... I don't want to use you," he said at last.
A surprised look came from all three.
"So, what am I supposed to do?" he smiled.
For the first time in three years, he smiled. Craig Tucker smiled.
A bright, red blush, identical to his hair, stained the Kyle's face, as he gulped, letting his eyes gaze down, before looking back up at the male, surprised as he smiled.
And for some strange reason, Craig wondered if it was okay, to smile, to laugh, to... enjoy someone's company again.
Stan. You'll forgive me, right?