A/N: Something I wrote during my writer's block for 'A Brief History of A Lifetime'.

"Compared to your work earlier in the year, this essay is, well, a disappointment," the law professor stared over his glasses at Eric. "But I'm sure you gathered that."

Eric looked around the mahogany furnished office as he searched for a reply. He could do nothing but admit that his professor was right.

"Yeah, but..." Eric paused, taking a breath so as not to get too frustrated with the professor, whose bad books he was currently in. "I was a little surprised. There's a pretty sizeable gap between-"

"Pretty sizeable?" His professor interrupted. "No, there is a huge gap. A real dip in quality that shocked even me."

Eric balled his fists at his sides. He didn't need his law professor to tell him how badly he fucked up on his last paper. Writing it over Christmas vacation was an unavoidable mistake. No matter how much he argued with her, his mom was determined to have him stay in Colorado for as long as possible.

He returned to Harvard the night before the new semester started, his half-assed paper already submitted, and fell face first on his bed. Not even waking a snoring Stan whose reasonable parents probably let him return whenever he wanted, since they recognised he was an adult now.

As he was wasting his Christmas vacation drinking lukewarm buds, playing video games and laughing at how Butters couldn't even handle one hit from Kenny's bong without wanting to vomit, he kidded himself that he could afford to submit one less-than-great paper. He even listened to Kenny drone on about how Eric had averages on his side, when Kenny didn't know the first thing about the grading of essays or the standard Eric was supposed to be working towards.

In short, he had been a cocky idiot.

"I just thought that since I did so well with the first paper, I could-"

"Just coast along with the next one?" His professor finished his sentence.

Eric squirmed in his chair. He could see now why his professor was such a successful litigator. If he didn't feel so indignant, Eric would have been inspired by the guy.

A family picture on the desk caught Eric's eye, a woman with striking red hair that was hidden underneath a sunhat, holding a little boy with copper curls. Eric nearly smirked, he couldn't imagine him being a dad.

His professor sighed before saying, "I've seen plenty of young men like you Eric. Young men who go into law because they're enticed by the image, the money, the security, the platform it provides them…"

Anxiety swirled in Eric's gut at the intoned voice his professor was speaking in. Measured but accusing.

"Some lawyers want to help the world, and others want to help themselves," His professor's sharp green eyes slid over to him, matched with a barbed smirk. "So far, I've been reading you as the latter. But the year is still young, right?"

Eric prickled angrily, but relied on his arrogant, stubborn tendency to never back down, to always have an argument in his back pocket. The very thing that made him want to be a lawyer in the first place.

"Very young," Eric retorted. "And I'm betting that once I pass the Bar I'm never going to see you again. So you'll have no idea what kind of lawyer I'll turn out to be. Who knows, sir? I could surprise you."

His professor nodded, "I hope so."

Eric supressed a smug grin, but whatever victory he had claimed was dashed when his professor continued, "Quite frankly, I couldn't care less what kind of lawyer you'll turn out to be. However, I do see potential in you, Eric. The problem with law students like you is that their confidence is their downfall when it comes to putting the effort in. Law school is demanding, working for a firm even more so. Confidence and skill gets you nowhere without effort. Which is why I'm taking you aside and telling you this now. You can't expect to be complacent or believe that you can just coast along without getting called up on it. You especially can't do that in this institution, in my class, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Eric said tautly.

"Great," his professor replied, before warning. "I won't be so considerate next time."

"Noted," Eric smiled wryly as he rose from his char. "Thanks, sir."

He let the office door shut behind him when he muttered, "fucking asshole…"

After his talk with his professor all Eric wanted to do was let off some steam. Just sitting down in front of the Xbox, taking his anger out on pixelated civilians would be enough.

Luckily, when he got to his dorm, Stan had beaten him to it. He responded to Stan's question of, "what's up, dude?" with an irritated grunt, before brusquely announcing that he was joining the game.

Eventually, Stan had coaxed Eric into revealing why he was so pissed off in the first place.

"Wow, he actually said that to you?" Stan asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep…" Eric muttered, flicking the joystick with conviction as he did.

"Sounds harsh," Stan shook his head.

"Unlike you, Stanley, I don't piss my pants the minute someone raises their voice to me," Eric replied.

Although his professor hadn't exactly raised his voice. Eric probably would have preferred irrational yelling over the knowing, diagnostic lecture he had received.

"Fuck off!" Stan laughed, shoving Eric with his elbow. "At least I know when to keep my mouth shut."

"If that's what we're calling it, hippie,"

"No, that's not-" Stan paused, finally catching onto the fact that an argument with Eric was one he was never going to win. "Whatever. Sorry you didn't do so good on your paper, dude."

"It's my mom's fault!" Eric argued. "If she had let me come home when I wanted to, I wouldn't had to even listen to how I have to pull my weight when I'm trying harder than the rest of them. Pompous prick…"

"So the only voice that makes you piss your pants is your mother's, then?" Stan teased.

"Shut up," Eric muttered. There was nothing remotely demanding about his mom, guilt-tripping and great cooking was what made Eric stay for as long as he did.

"Anyway, I met the hottest redheaded guy when I was getting coffee today," Stan bragged, the swivel chair spinning slightly in glee.

"Well, you know what they say about redheads," Eric commented, distracted by the action on screen.

"What?"

Eric turned to Stan with a raised, disbelieving eyebrow. "They're sluts," he replied.

Stan wrinkled his nose, his back straightening defensively as he argued, "Kyle isn't a slut!"

"How do you know?"

Stan backed down then. "He doesn't look like one…" he murmured.

"And what is this Kyle studying?"

"Engineering," Stan replied. "Over at MIT."

"MIT?" Eric asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Then what the hell is he doing here?"

"I don't know, he just told me had connections," Stan shrugged, before adding, "He was kinda mysterious…"

Eric looked over at Stan, shaking his head and snorting derisively because only Stan could fall head over heels for a guy he had just met that morning.

"What kind of connections?" Eric asked.

"I don't know," Stan shrugged. "I didn't ask him."

"What's his last name?" Eric asked, hoping that would provide him with some clues.

"I, uh, don't remember…" Stan said quickly, uncomfortably. Which made Eric all the more eager to goad and press for answers.

"You don't remember or you didn't ask?"

"I was gonna be late to class, dude!" Stan snapped, clearly bristled by Eric's questioning. "And he had places to be as well!"

Before Eric could say anything more, Stan's phone buzzed. Eric saw Stan's eyes light up, his face burning and a pleased smile stretched across his face. Eric leaned over, noticing the name 'Kyle' at the top of the screen, before Stan yanked his arm away, keeping his phone out of Eric's line of sight.

"Had enough time to get his number, then?" Eric asked, returning his attention to the game.

"Obviously," Stan replied, after he had finished texting the mysterious Kyle.

A few days later found Eric holing himself up in the library, ploughing through most of the course material, and intending to read the rest of it in the comfort of his dorm.

He stayed until he was the only student remaining, making his way back to his room with a backpack bulging with borrowed books, and music blaring in his ears. Eric prayed Stan wouldn't be there, ever since he met up with Kyle again he couldn't shut up about him. If Stan wasn't waxing lyrical about the 'adorable' way Kyle's nose wrinkled when he laughed or recounting the 'hot as fuck' kiss that occurred on their first date, then he was making googly eyes at his phone, or chuckling surreptitiously at his laptop screen. (Stan's headphones making sure that whatever conversation him and Kyle were having remained strictly between them.)

Eric had never been one for romances, unrequited childhood crushes had squashed the penchant for that early. But he still felt waves of attraction and arousal, even if only a handful of those incidences led to something. Eric had never dated anyone; lots of making out, a couple of casual, physical relationships that Eric couldn't be bothered to develop and a drunken, one-night stand during his first week in Harvard, summed up his romantic history.

Still, seeing Stan loved up these past few days, didn't just elicit the usual agitation Eric had come to expect from seeing couples in the honeymoon phase. It roused something a lot more unnerving, something that made Eric feel sad and resent himself just a little bit more.

He was lonely.

Which was shocking because Eric had always felt lonely. Back home, he thrived on knowing he was in the wrong place, surrounded by the wrong people. Being different can only be a good thing if it means that you're better than everyone else, Eric reasoned. And he was certainly too good to be stifled by a Podunk, mountain town and its inhabitants. So he worked hard, was ruthless and set Harvard in his sights as if it were a creature to be stalked. He would pounce on the opportunity and milk this university dry of everything it had to offer.

Those fall days were ones of optimism, he had somehow found it in himself to make friends and classes were going as smoothly as he wanted to them to be. But for the first time in his life, he started to feel the cold, stabbing panics of isolation. He was an adult now, fending for himself and miles away from his safety nets. Instead, he was surrounded by people who knew nothing about him, who hadn't invested in his flaws and his problems.

So he kept his new-made friends on a leash (like they'd ever know it), holding them back from snapping at the truth. Preventing them from finding out about the things he wasn't too proud of, so they wouldn't desert him just yet. He prioritized his studies over everything else. College friendships are fleeting, a law degree is forever.

As his friendships were put on the backburner, romantic or sexual encounters were shelved. Any confidence he had back home whittled down self-consciously into a shrinking, shy stub. He wasn't dealing with bored, hick jocks anymore, who he could seduce with practiced gait and an aloof sense of superiority. He was dealing with guys who were smart, charismatic and not to mention out of his league. Eric had never seen so many handsome young men in the same place before. Still, he knew there were ways to combat his lack of bedroom action. Any sexual frustration was relieved during early morning showers, memorised clips from his favourite porn videos helped to bring him to orgasm.

However, these last few days had been shaky. The knowledge that he had let himself down with his last paper, was only confirmed by the 'conversation' with his professor. And while he had been pining to return to Harvard during Christmas break, returning to South Park only reminded him of how secretly homesick he had been. On his first night back home, he had buried his nose into his old bed sheets, feeling a nostalgic, forlorn twinge in his heart at the smell of that familiar fabric softener.

So maybe he was a little bitter about Stan's newfound happiness with the mysterious Kyle. Maybe he too needed someone special to text all night or look forward to getting lunch with. Or maybe he just needed a third party to relieve some of the tension building in his mind. Somebody to kiss his neck or slip a hand down his pants and make the whole world melt away.

Yeah, that sounded better than all that needy crap that couples do.

Eric reached his room, opening the door without thinking to knock, or at least mute his music.

He stumbled backwards when he saw a redheaded stranger sat on the edge of Stan's bed. The stranger's face was flushed, his eyebrows knitted with pleasure and his fingers were clutching encouragingly at the hair of Eric's roommate, whose head was bobbing up and down between the stranger's spread legs.

Eric bit the inside of his mouth to contain the enraged, embarrassed blush that flooded to his cheeks, ripping his headphones out. He wanted to make some kind of obnoxious throat clear, to ensure his presence was known. But he couldn't find his voice or his feet, his mind scrambling as he fixed his eyes on the display. Unable to look away, but disgusted nonetheless.

The clumsy sound of Eric stumbling back into the open door, didn't go unnoticed by the boy Eric assumed must be Kyle. His hazy eyes flew wide open, and he tugged purposefully on Stan's hair, even trying to back away from the lips wrapped around his cock.

Eric cringed at the sound of Stan's frustrated, confused moans around the hard flesh in his mouth. But as Stan finally cut the blowjob short, Eric was already preparing to make his hasty retreat.

"I think your roommate is back," Kyle chuckled. A noise so smug and obnoxious that it made Eric's jaw grind.

"What?!" Stan panicked before he turned around, his burning face and wide eyes were enough to startle Eric. "Oh my God, Eric, I thought you were-"

"I'll just, uh, hang out in the rec room until you guys are done in here," Eric mumbled, saving Stan the trouble. Not even shutting the door behind him as he rushed down the corridor.

The rec room was unusually empty, and Eric wondered where the hell everybody was. Probably stressing out amid empty cans of Redbull in the privacy of their own dorms, Eric thought, or fooling around with a new conquest.

Eric grumbled at the thought, slinging his bag on the short-legged coffee table. That relentless, determined voice gnawed at him, telling him to make use of those books he had borrowed. Even though he had already read so much today that if he opened another book the words would just swim off the page.

But he tried.

Rather than swimming off the page, Eric found himself struggling to focus on the words in front of him. Dry, academic language isn't easy to absorb, less so when irrational, indignant thoughts keep poking and prodding your attention.

Eric tried to justify how disgruntled he was at what he saw. He shared that dorm with Stan! Why should he have to sacrifice his half of the space just so Stan could go down on his new boyfriend? His new boyfriend who (if his self-satisfied, obnoxious chuckle was anything to go by) seemed like a colossal douchebag?

Eric gripped the edges of his book, his vexed justifications making him want to storm back to his dorm and kick Stan and Kyle out.

But under what grounds? His common-sense voice asked, sounding a lot like his professor. Stan has the right to use that room for whatever he wishes. As long as it's legal… Sure, you're a petty asshole who pouts when he doesn't get his way, but do you really want to make that common knowledge? You've been embarrassed enough for today.

Shame crawled up Eric's throat as he begrudgingly heard the argument out, slamming the book decisively because it wasn't as if he was reading it anymore. He turned his rage onto himself, ashamed that he was even lowering himself to feel such bitterness and – dare he say it – resentment, towards the pair.

Eric growled under his breath and dragged his hands harshly through his hair. He just needed an emotional band-aid, something to make the knots loosen in his shoulders and shut his mind up for a minute. In lieu of alcohol, only one temporary fix would do. Chocolate.

Heaving himself up off the rec room's couch, he trudged to the vending machine outside, searching for the correct amount of change in his jeans pocket.

Mars bar. Perfect. Eric slid the change in and waited for the candy bar he had eyed up. But the machine groaned, panicked and overworked, before it wheezed in defeat. The lights twitching and the mechanism coming to a slow, stubborn stop.

"Fuck," Eric growled under his breath, studying all sides of the machine before noticing that his chosen Mars bar was a little bit loose…

Making sure the coast was clear, he hit the glass, willing the tremors to be enough to make the Mars bar fall.

Nothing.

Running a fractious hand over his face he hit the glass again and again, until every begging, enraged pound against the machine made him forget why he was even doing it in the first place. All of his frustrations, his injustices, coalesced into white noise head in his head, commanding him to hit harder and harder.

"Hey," a voice pulled Eric out of his stupor, a familiar, insufferable ring to it.

Eric turned to see Kyle, walking down the hall with his hands tucked into the pockets of his grey MIT hoodie and a calm smile on his face.

Eric raked his eyes over him as he came closer, he wanted to tell him to fuck off, but again, he couldn't find the words. Maybe he was just surprised that Kyle was undeterred by talking to someone who, right now, was coming off as very unhinged.

Kyle waited expectantly for Eric to respond for a minute or two, before he changed tact. He edged closer to Eric, close enough that Eric could see the smattering of freckles on his nose, the flecks of blue swimming in piercing green irises.

Close enough that Eric could smell the sex masked by Stan's deodorant on him.

Surprisingly, it lingered on Eric's tongue in a not entirely pleasant way. Like the first, curious inhale of second-hand smoke.

"Sorry you had to see that earlier," Kyle apologised, a strange confidence about him that perturbed Eric. "Stan thought you weren't gonna be back until late but…"

Eric squirmed, rolling his eyes and looking down the hall in a way he hoped indicated that he didn't want Kyle to hang around for much longer.

"Man, the look on your face!" Kyle suddenly laughed. "It was like you'd never seen a guy get his cock sucked before!"

His laughter was cut short when Eric glared at him. Eric watched him scratch the skin behind his ear self-consciously, finding some weird, victorious satisfaction in it.

"The vending machine is busted again, huh?" Kyle asked, gesturing to the useless hunk of metal.

What kind of question is that?

How did he even know about how temperamental that particular machine could be?

"No," Eric replied sarcastically. "I just like hitting it because it's a lousy son of a bitch."

"Alright, smartass," Kyle said, rolling his eyes.

Before Eric could respond, Kyle had moved to the side of the vending machine, pressing his ear to it. Eric didn't know what Kyle was looking for, but Kyle grinned to himself when he seemed to have found it. Kyle's hand reached out, stroking the vending machine before biting his lower lip and smacking it hard enough to make Eric wince.

But Kyle wasn't done, he wordlessly nudged Eric out of the way before kicking the bottom of the machine. Suddenly, the lights flashed awake and the machine whirred to life, disposing one Mars bar.

"How did you-"

"I'm studying engineering at MIT," Kyle interrupted smugly. "I know how this piece of shit works. I could pull it apart and reassemble it, good as new."

"Somebody would sue you," Eric replied grumpily, reaching down to retrieve his Mars bar. "The faculty, or whatever…"

Eric didn't know whether he was joking or not, but it still made Kyle smile curiously.

"I have a good lawyer," Kyle quipped, watching Eric tear the wrapper off the candy bar.

Taking the first bite, Eric furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed Kyle was still standing there.

"Well," Eric spoke around the chocolate in his mouth, swallowing it when he continued, "see you…"

Kyle's eyebrows knitted together before he murmured, "yeah, see you around."

Kyle brushed past Eric pointedly as he walked away, causing Eric's perplexed gaze to trail after him.

No, Eric definitely didn't like him.

Who does he think he is?

Pushing Eric out of his own room, acting like it was no big deal and then getting the vending machine working again even though Eric didn't ask him to? And then to top it off, he swaggered around the place with his 'mysterious' connections, aloof and frustratingly intriguing? What the fuck is his problem?

Eric felt himself getting more and more riled up as he watched Kyle walk down the corridor, flinching unexpectedly when he saw Kyle cast him a small look back.

Eric fixed him with a puzzled, hard stare, satisfied at the speed of which Kyle whipped his head back around.

Alright, you can look away now…

But Eric couldn't, he watched Kyle disappear with growing animosity and intrigue. Kyle turned a corner, almost out of Eric's sight, before he glanced at Eric once again.

One simple action tipped Eric over the edge.

Kyle winked at him.

Eric could make out a cocky smirk on his face, as he himself burned with agitation and gritted his teeth. His dislike for the guy pretty much confirmed.

Kyle disappeared, leaving Eric blankly staring into the empty space.

He blinked, desperate to pull himself together.

"Fucking asshole," he muttered, as he returned to the rec room.

Eric was bombarded with breathless apologies from Stan when he finally returned to his dorm, followed by a three day period where Stan couldn't meet Eric's eyes without being subject to ridicule. Since, Eric figured, he might as well seek vengeance by ripping on the poor guy.

It had been a week since the incident, and a week since Eric had seen Kyle. Stan was probably keeping him away from his roommate to avoid any awkward small talk and embarrassing memories that were still too fresh.

Although it seemed that a week was ample time for Stan to get over what happened, since he asked Eric to meet him and Kyle for coffee after his morning class.

Eric half-heartedly agreed, hoping that the coffee date would put the whole thing to rest once and for all.

Still, the thought of the three of them having coffee together made Eric slump in exasperation.

"Are you doing anything after class?" Eric asked Bebe as they walked to the lecture hall.

"Well, I was hoping to go back to my room and nap, but you obviously have something better in mind?" Bebe replied, swishing her long, wavy ponytail over her shoulder. She twirled her hair around her finger curiously.

"Sort of," Eric half-lied. "You remember when I walked in on Stan last week?"

Bebe laughed, prompting an amused smile to appear on Eric's face. "Yeah…"

"Well, he's been freaking out about it since then and has invited me to coffee with him and that Kyle guy to 'clear the air'." Eric explained, putting as much contempt into the air quotes as he could muster.

"What the Hell does that mean?" Bebe asked.

"Exactly!" Eric replied, throwing his hands up, narrowly missing Bebe's head. "The air was cleared days ago! No big deal…"

When Bebe didn't respond, Eric bristled uncomfortably. He needed confirmation of his statement more than he realised.

"Anyway," Eric began, "I need you to come with me to make it tolerable."

"Sure, why not?" Bebe shrugged.

"Thanks," Eric smiled, nudging Bebe softly, gratefully. "I mean, the whole thing is ridiculous. Like, why does he think me seeing him give some guy head is so scarring? It hasn't changed my opinion of him! I don't care what Stan does…"

Eric let his voice trail off, and he pulled at a loose thread on his t-shirt when he sheepishly added, "especially to Kyle."

Out of the corner of his eye, Eric saw Bebe smirking, insecurity prickling on his skin.

"What?" Eric asked defensively.

"Nothing!" Bebe laughed, raising her hands.

"What?" Eric pressed on, grinning this time. "Come on, blondie, if you got something to say then say it!"

Bebe flushed at the nickname, rolling her eyes.

"Fine," she yielded. "Sounds like you're a little jealous."

Eric balked. Jealous? He was pissed off, sure, and dreading the upcoming coffee date, but that didn't make him jealous, did it?

No, he definitely wasn't.

Confusing dreams of walking in on himself servicing Kyle (replaying the expressions of ecstasy on Kyle's face and that infuriating wink), aside, Eric knew exactly what he felt. In fact, those dreams made Eric dislike Kyle even more. Even if it took a lot of stern thinking and a long shower to erase those dreams from his mind. Until the next time he slept, that is.

What was it about Kyle that provoked such a strong reaction from Eric?

"Jealous? Fuck, no!" Eric replied. "Of course I'm not jealous! How could I be jealous?"

"Well, maybe-"

"No, Bebe," Eric interrupted. "I'm not jealous and you wanna know why?"

Bebe raised her eyebrows and winced at Eric's uneasy tone.

"Because Stan and Kyle are nothing," Eric answered his own question. "Seriously, it will be over in a month. Two months, tops. Plus, Stan is just my roommate. And Kyle… I don't even know him."

"Okay," Bebe acquiesced. "If you say so."

Eric shook his head before adding, "Stan is just making a big deal out of this."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Eric realized that the same could be said for him.

"For some reason," he mumbled.

After class Eric – begrudgingly – found himself in need of some coffee.

What he didn't need was Stan and Kyle sitting far too close to each other, paying attention to nothing but themselves. Which was exactly the sight that greeted him when he and Bebe entered the coffee shop.

Bebe thought it was sweet, Eric thought it was nauseating.

Like you wouldn't be just as smug and loathsome if that was you and some guy.

"Hey, guys!" Stan smiled a little too enthusiastically when he caught sight of Eric and Bebe. "We've already got coffee..."

Eric glanced down at the three cups of coffee on the table.

"Uh, Bebe, I didn't realize you were coming," Stan said apologetically.

"I invited her," Eric replied brusquely, sitting down.

"Do you want me to get you one?" Kyle rose from his chair and Eric narrowed his eyes.

"No thanks, I'll get it," Bebe smiled, "You must be Kyle, right?"

"Yeah," Kyle replied, extending his hand.

"I'm Bebe," She grinned, taking hold of Kyle's hand and shaking it.

"Shit, yeah, sorry," Stan flushed, Eric was tempted to take his coffee away from him. The guy was already nervous and maybe caffeine wasn't the best idea.

"Bebe this is Kyle, Kyle this is Bebe," Stan belatedly introduced the pair. "And you already know Eric." He unnecessarily added.

"Yeah, I do," Kyle turned his attention to Eric with a friendly smile. "How are you doing, Eric?"

Eric watched Kyle sit down, warily eyeing him up as he did. He wondered if Kyle had told Stan about their run-in by the vending machine, or if Kyle was going to pull a Mars bar out of his pocket and wink at Eric again. Like it was some kind of strange in joke that Eric wasn't aware they were sharing. He was reminded of the events of last week, animosity flooding back, as well as unwanted glimpses of those damn dreams of a guy he hardly knew. Eric wanted to demand an explanation for why he was having those in the first place, turn that discomfort back on Kyle.

"I'm good," Eric instead replied. "You?"

Kyle was collected. That strange, intriguing aura about him casting doubt over everything else.

His emerald eyes were trained on Eric, giving him his undivided attention when he shrugged and replied, "Can't complain."

"Eric, we got you a mocha," Stan gestured to the coffee placed in front of Eric. "You like that, right?"

"Sure," Eric replied moodily. "Whatever."

Before he could take a sip, he felt a scolding nudge on his shoulder.

"What?" he whispered and looked up at a scowling Bebe.

"I'll be right back," Bebe said, as she left to get some coffee.

Eric could feel all three of them shrinking in their chairs, one incident on their minds.

"Thanks for the coffee, dude," Eric tried to break the silence by being polite.

"No problem," Stan smiled, grateful that the conversation was being steered away from the awkwardness.

"How much was it?" Eric asked, reaching in his pocket. He was too proud to accept charity. Even it if was just for a mocha.

"Don't worry, it's on me," Kyle replied, waving his hand.

"I don't care," Eric retorted, fixing Kyle with a hard look. "How much was it?"

A challenging smirk flickered in the corner of Kyle's mouth, and Eric noticed his shoulders rolling back underneath his teal pullover.

"You can ask me as much as you want but I'm not gonna take your money," Kyle responded. "We're clearing the air, right?"

"Buying coffee is your way of clearing the air?" Eric found himself leaning back in his chair, mirroring Kyle's small smirk.

Kyle thought for a moment, before replying, "In this instance, yes. Buying people's forgiveness isn't something I'm a fan of, but if you have a couple of dollars to throw away, why not?"

"A couple of dollars?" Eric said derisively, raising his eyebrow. "Please, this shit is so over-priced."

"Six dollars for a cappuccino!" Bebe said incredulously as she returned. "As if they don't take enough money from us already…"

Thanks, blondie.

"See?" Eric bragged, satisfied when Kyle's cheekbones tensed, locking his jaw. An unflattering pink blush pinching his cheeks.

He looked up at Eric and smirked sardonically. If they were in a playground Eric would have poked his tongue out at him.

"So, anyway, guys, what are you doing later?" Stan asked.

"Study group," Eric replied dispassionately, taking a welcomed sip of his mocha.

"How about you?" Bebe asked, obviously undeterred by Stan and Kyle's sappiness like Eric was.

She isn't exposed to it like you are.

"We both have classes," Stan nodded.

"Yeah, Kyle's gotta head over to MIT," Eric said to Bebe.

"MIT?" Bebe inquired. "What are you doing over there?"

"Engineering," Kyle answered. "But I got some family ties to this place, and I stay at home. I don't, you know, reside on campus."

"That's cool," Bebe grinned, before sipping at her cappuccino. "So, what, was like your great-great-grandfather one of the founders of Harvard or something?"

Kyle laughed, before he began to explain, "Actually-"

Kyle was interrupted by the sound of his phone vibrating hideously against the table. He quickly snatched it away, realization flooding his eyes as he read what was on the screen.

"Aw, shit!" he muttered, "I forgot about that…"

He tucked his phone into his pocket as he addressed Bebe and Eric, "sorry, guys, I gotta go."

Turning to Stan he grinned coquettishly, "So I'll see you later?"

"Sure," Stan smiled, "see you later."

They leaned in for a kiss, and Eric found himself blinking in surprise. He watched the kiss deepen, watched Kyle's tongue slip into Stan's mouth with voyeuristic curiosity. But he quickly snapped his gaze away when the kiss broke.

"Nice to meet you, Bebe," Kyle smiled, voice a little breathless from the kiss.

"You too," Bebe nodded.

"Bye, Eric," Kyle smirked.

"Uh, bye…" Eric replied, the words hardly out of his mouth before Kyle was gone.

It took two days for Eric to realise a noticeable shift in his attitude towards Kyle. It wasn't minor, or extreme. Just noticeable enough to irritate. A problem recognised but the knowledge of its depth is out of reach.

Whereas before Eric barely listened to Stan when he talked about Kyle, he now found himself interested. Sniffing around for information to paint a clearer picture of Kyle in his head, the type of person he was, his mannerisms, the type of things he'd say. Kyle relieved Eric's boredom in a way Eric found easier to control than those dreams that were now waning.

And while he used to roll his eyes at Stan and Kyle's relationship, he now found it physically hard to watch them Skype or text. Seeing Stan bathed in the glow of his cell phone screen, privy to Kyle's whispered, sincere words made Eric's skin prickle. Luckily, he had places to escape to. What else could he do except run away from the problem and slowly work out a solution?

Though there seemed to be only one. He would just have to lay low and grit his teeth until Kyle was out of the picture and hopefully out of his mind.

But did he want Kyle to go away? Eric was unsure. He didn't even know Kyle well enough to have some reasonable debate over the matter in his head.

But how could he get closer to Kyle? Initiate a conversation with him where he didn't come off as totally disobliging?

Besides, Eric reasoned, he had more important things to do. Redeem himself to his professor, ace this year, so he could get his law degree and have a successful career at the end of it. That was more crucial and secure than some fleeting crush. If Eric could even call it that.

How could somebody who Eric barely talked to stir such unnecessary emotional conflict within him? Furthermore, why should Eric drive himself crazy when Kyle remained seemingly unaffected?

But being alone with Kyle wasn't as unattainable as Eric thought, when he entered his room to find Kyle lying on Stan's bed.

Kyle looked up, mildly startled when the door opened, not knowing where to look when he realised it was Eric.

"Stan's in the shower," Kyle explained, impotently gesturing to the doorway Eric was blocking.

"Okay…" Eric muttered, avoiding Kyle's eyes as he threw himself on his own bed. He reached into his backpack and pulled out one of his law books. Shielding him from conversation with Kyle he didn't know how to make.

"What are you reading?" Kyle asked, Eric could feel Kyle looking at him.

"Blackstone's Statutes on Public Law & Human Rights," Eric answered distractedly, pretending to read.

"Don't you read that book at the beginning of the year?" Kyle asked.

Eric wondered if Kyle was a little obtuse when it came to socialising or if he was really that eager to talk to Eric. It was… flattering.

"Yeah, but I'm reading it again," Eric replied, glancing up at Kyle this time. "Refresh my memory."

Kyle didn't respond and Eric grew nervous. The silence was teasing, thick.

"Aren't you ever going to do that?" Eric asked, he couldn't help it. "Read over all your stuff?"

"Yeah, but," Kyle sat up, crossing his legs and facing Eric. Commanding his attention. "Like, not in January."

A 'tsk' escaped Eric's mouth and he chided, "you're gonna regret saying that during finals."

"And you're gonna regret being so stressed out that you can't even think straight," Kyle replied.

"Do I look stressed?" Eric asked, shutting his book.

"Yes," Kyle answered simply.

Eric scowled to himself, he didn't think it was that obvious.

"And pissed off," Kyle continued, making Eric flush, chagrined. "And mean."

"Congratulations, Kyle," Eric quipped mordantly, so Kyle would shut up. He rolled his eyes. "You've figured me out in record time."

Eric was surprised at Kyle's laughter, eliciting some new, needy sense of pride.

"And funny," Kyle chuckled, he added softly, "and interesting,"

Eric felt a visceral warmth at Kyle's words. He wondered if it was the kind of warmth that Stan felt whenever he was around Kyle.

"Alright, since you appear to know everything," Eric said, putting his book away without a second thought. He turned to Kyle, but leaned back against the wall, his legs hanging off the bed, biting back a smile when Kyle nodded.

"What are your plans for dealing with the hell that is finals?" Eric inquired.

"Be organized and when I start to feel overwhelmed, I'll step back, take a deep breath and relax," Kyle replied.

Eric raised an eyebrow and asked, "That's it?"

"Yep," Kyle nodded.

"That's worked for you?" Eric pressed on, unwilling to believe that Kyle could be so naïve.

"So far," Kyle shrugged. His calmness was infuriating.

Before Eric could say anything more, Stan entered the room, wearing a t-shirt and pair of shorts. His hair poking out at odd, towel-dried angles.

"Oh, hey Eric," Stan greeted.

"What's up?" Eric responded, disappointed.

Stan turned to Kyle and promised, "I'll be two seconds…"

Eric had been trying his hardest to not think about Kyle. He had tried to suppress the flutters in his chest whenever his name was mentioned, tried to squash the pathetic daydreams he had of Kyle when he should be studying. These daydreams consisted of nothing. They were almost like daily reminders that Kyle had entered his life and, guess what, he wasn't going to be easy to forget.

Eric didn't even know if he liked Kyle. He could list his favourite things about him almost as breathlessly as Stan could, but he wouldn't be able to answer the question of whether he liked Kyle or not. He just… liked being around him. Listening to what he had to say, giving him a reaction.

He hadn't seen Kyle in two days, and when Bebe told him about a party on Saturday, Eric jumped at the chance. He told himself it was because he deserved to get drunk and blow off some steam after studying so hard, but really he was looking for a guy even cuter than Kyle to distract him.

Eric had no luck so far.

"Hi, Eric," a rather glum looking Kyle drew Eric's attention away from the beer he was half-heartedly drinking. Kyle pushed despondently through the throngs of drunk freshman crowding the hallway.

"Oh, hi," Eric said, furrowing his eyebrows. He winced at such a downtrodden Kyle, he wasn't used to it.

"Lame party, huh?" Kyle chuckled ruefully, standing next to Eric.

"I've been to worse," Eric shrugged, before asking the aching question. "Why aren't you with Stan?"

"We broke up twenty minutes ago," Kyle said too matter-of-factly. Eric couldn't smell alcohol on his breath, otherwise he'd assume he was drunk.

"Oh… that sucks," Eric tried to console him, ignoring the way his heart leapt. "Uh, sorry it didn't work out."

"Thanks," Kyle sighed, looking blankly into the crowd. "He's really great-"

Eric couldn't help but laugh sceptically. Being sympathetic wasn't his strong suit, especially when people on the receiving end of his sympathy spewed corny lines like that.

Kyle rolled his eyes and punched Eric's arm, scowling playfully.

"I know that's what a lot of people say after they break up with somebody but with Stan, it's true," Kyle continued. He sighed almost regretfully and Eric imagined Kyle bolting in an attempt to find Stan and fix things.

"I can't believe how lucky I am to have even met somebody as nice as him," Kyle instead said, glancing up at Eric like he was looking for support. Before Eric could try to be comforting, Kyle stared up at the ceiling.

Shit, is he crying?

"For these past couple of months I've just been feeling…"

"What?"

"Lost, lonely," Kyle finished, raking his eyes over Eric thoughtfully before continuing. "Maybe it's because I live at home but I feel like I miss out on a lot. And I try to put myself out there, I do. Nothing seems to come back my way, though."

"I get it," Eric blurted out, just as surprised as Kyle was. "It's… I don't know, natural to feel that way. College is a big, scary deal."

Kyle rested his head against the wall and asked, "But what if it doesn't get any easier?"

The way Kyle was looking at him, filled Eric with defeat. He couldn't help but feel like Kyle was putting too much trust in him. He was no closer to the answers than Kyle was.

"It will," Eric nodded, he watched Kyle smile like he was still rather sceptical. "You'll just get used to the scariness and everything will fall into place."

Eric swallowed when Kyle's smirk turned playful and he nudged Eric's arm. "You should talk more often. If comforting crap like that comes out of your mouth."

Eric shook his head and laughed, "You talk about things not coming back your way? I was just trying to be nice and then you go ahead and say that!"

Kyle laughed, it was a little empty but it was something.

"Anyway," Kyle began quietly, "Stan came along and he's so sweet, and we're so similar. I immediately felt like I could be myself around him, you know?"

Eric nodded, although he didn't really understand.

"To be honest, I didn't mean for it to get this far," Kyle despaired, an uncomfortable quality to his voice, an impending vitriol. "But I guess I just latched onto him and thought that I had to make this worth his while or something. Next thing I know I'm kissing him and he's kissing me back… It feels so great to be kissed. But he never asked for that, I just gave it to him."

"So then why break it off?" Eric asked. "Sounds like you had a pretty good deal?"

"It would get complicated," Kyle replied, shaking his head.

"Maybe…" Eric murmured, staring down at his beer.

"It wouldn't be fair to him," Kyle explained, raking his eyes over Eric. "Especially when I've had somebody else on my mind all week."

"Who's that?" Eric asked, looking up from his plastic cup, Kyle's expectant eyes on him.

"Do you wanna go outside?" Kyle asked. "Walk around a little bit?"

"Sure," Eric nodded. "Okay."

The two didn't look at each other as they left the party.

Eric grinned at Kyle's happy sigh as they stepped out into the cold night. The campus pretty much deserted, entirely theirs to haunt.

They set off in a random direction, their conversation carrying them as they walked at a lackadaisical pace. Slow and stilted at first, but it soon picked up.

Eric learned that Kyle was born in New Jersey, but that his parents moved to Massachusetts when he was five because of his dad's job. He never met his maternal grandparents because his mom fell out with them before Kyle was even born. Kyle didn't get a chance to meet his grandmother, but he'd like to go to New Jersey to meet his grandfather someday. Eric found himself telling Kyle that he had never met his dad, nor did he want to.

Eric listened to Kyle talk about nannies, travelling, and sneaking downstairs in his pyjamas to interrupt his parents' dinner parties. The only way his parents could get Kyle to stay in bed was if his dad read him a bedtime story. In return, Eric told Kyle about building snow igloos in South Park and how desperate he was to get out of there as a teenager.

Kyle snorted with laughter at stories from high school that usually ended up with Eric getting detention, and how he cleaned up his act so he'd be able to get into Harvard. Eric listened to Kyle's anecdotes from his own, strict, high school and how he almost blew up the science lab with one of his "personal experiments."

Eric bugged Kyle about his family connections to Harvard, but Kyle wouldn't budge, shutting him up with a familiar wink. He didn't even know Kyle's last name. Still, there was allure to be found in mystery.

Kyle told Eric why he wanted to be an engineer, and Eric shared his dream of running his own law firm someday. Which brought them to the topic of Eric's disappointing paper.

"That's the reason why I've been so stressed out and grouchy," Eric explained, suddenly shy after all the other things they had talked about.

"You seem like the type of guy who's like that all the time, though," Kyle remarked.

"Okay, maybe," Eric conceded, smiling to himself when he heard Kyle snicker. "But I'm not usually this bad."

There was silence, like Kyle knew Eric wasn't finished.

"I don't wanna fuck up again," Eric continued, "But I feel like…"

He searched for the word, the anxious feeling he'd been wrestling with since he talked to his professor.

"My confidence is shaken?" Eric guessed and Kyle nodded understandingly. "I thought I was so good, but it turns out that I can't afford to have a bad couple of weeks."

Eric stared at his shoes, barely visible through the dim lights of the campus.

"I bet you're great," Kyle reassured hesitantly. "Just do what I told you, organize yourself, stand back and take a deep breath."

Eric laughed and shook his head, if only taking Kyle's advice was easy.

"It works!" Kyle implored, a frustrated tinge to his voice. "Trust me!"

But Eric couldn't. Kyle couldn't undo his way of thinking. Something that had kept him focused and short-sighted since high school. Eric pursed his lips, glancing to his side, to the place that his way of thinking had gotten him.

"Aw, come on!" Kyle laughed, pulling at Eric's arm. "What would make you feel better?"

Eric shrugged, a part of him done with talking. But he didn't want Kyle to let go of his arm.

He still felt Kyle's fingers on him in the silence, until a soft, nervous question broke it.

Kyle asked, "a kiss, maybe?"

Eric chuckled and rolled his eyes. A lump rose in his throat, heady doubt settling in when he felt Kyle's fingers squeeze gently, encouragingly, at his arm.

"What?" Eric asked quietly, turning to Kyle and slipping out of his hold. "Are you serious?"

Kyle didn't look it, he just looked surprised at himself. But then a smile, small enough that Eric could have convinced himself it was just for him to see, lit up Kyle's face.

Kyle nodded, pulling Eric closer with that strange, now electric, confidence. Eric was taller than Kyle, larger than him, but Kyle pulled him with forward with such weightlessness that Eric shivered.

Eric watched Kyle close his eyes, his lashes the same colour as his freckles, before Kyle kissed him softly. Eric's eyes rolled back before they shut, a gasp building in his throat as Kyle slowly dragged his lips over Eric's flushed, cold ones, his hands grasping at Eric's shirt with restrained greediness.

Smiling, Eric pressed Kyle's body flush to his, one hand ensnared in scarlet curls, his other arm wrapped around Kyle's back. Kyle deepened the kiss with a stifled moan, and Eric complied earnestly.

Soon, their hands grasped at each other, their kisses were unabashed and passionate and the January night became unbearably warm. Eric had forgotten how it felt to be so impatient and desperate with someone. Kyle was right, he realized, it felt so great to be kissed. And as he kissed Kyle, Eric couldn't help but wonder if this is what he wanted all along.

But he wanted more, and judging by Kyle's hot face and what Eric could feel poking against his thigh, Kyle wanted more too.

"We should go to my dorm," Eric managed to breathlessly get out between kisses.

"No," Kyle shook his head, quickly kissing Eric again. "No, I have a free house."

Kyle kissed Eric, long and slow, leaving no room for argument, before he added, "and a hot tub."

The fifteen minute drive to Kyle's house was spent in silence, their eyes occasionally catching in the rear view mirror. Eric's erection was flagging, although those shared looks kept him intrigued.

Kyle's neighbourhood was quiet, a cul-de-sac just as boring and uneventful (if grander) than Eric's back home. A different kind of boring though, Eric considered, lives revolving around country clubs and Ivy League institutions, rather than dilapidated bars and high school football games.

Eric followed Kyle up the driveway, like a ghost that Kyle didn't fully sense. Before Kyle unlocked the front door and flicked the lights on, Eric could have sworn their eyes met in the darkness.

They stepped into the spacious open plan hallway, everything oak-finished and cream. Hints of any other colour were accidental, probably unavoidable.

"Shit…" Eric muttered, staring around in awe. He knew Kyle's parents must be wealthy but, seriously?! He could clearly imagine those dinner parties Kyle had talked about. Hired help gliding around, handing out appetisers to sharply dressed neighbours. He stared up at the tall staircase and imagined a kid version of Kyle at the top, wanting a bedtime story.

Kyle turned around, raising his eyebrows at Eric.

"This is a really nice house," Eric commented, still staring.

Kyle smiled, before walking through the hallway, with Eric traipsing after him.

He noticed a lack of family pictures on the wall, recalling what Kyle said about nannies. But he softened when he remembered Kyle telling him about family vacations, a beach house in Montauk.

"No, seriously, what do your parents do for a living?" Eric chuckled incredulously.

"Not a whole lot these days…" Kyle sighed. "My dad's semi-retired and my mom does consultancy work now."

"Consultancy work?" Eric asked. "For what?"

Kyle spun around and pulled Eric to his lips again, decimating thoughts of anything other than Kyle's mouth.

"Come on…" Kyle whispered breathlessly when he pulled away, grabbing Eric's hand and leading him through a kitchen that wouldn't look out of place in Good Housekeeping.

Pushing open the French doors, they entered the rather small backyard and Kyle kicked his shoes off immediately. The stiff, winter grass looked oil-black and Eric exhaled a cold, frigid breath at the pretty strings of lights, interwoven through the palisade fence. He noticed the hot tub and swallowed thickly.

As Kyle bent down to power the hot-tub on, the chill in the air was pretty hard to ignore. But damn it if Eric was going to back out now, how could he?

Kyle stood up, taking his shirt off without preamble. Luckily, his back was facing Eric, so he was unaware of the surprised expression on Eric's face. He watched the fluid movement of Kyle's lean muscles, his gaze reverting back to freckle dusted shoulders, wondering if he had some dotted anywhere else. Kyle wasted no time in removing his jeans, Eric's throat tightened and his mouth was dry as Kyle bent over to pull them from his legs. Eric got an eyeful of milky, taut thighs that reminded him of Kyle's track team stories from high school.

That voyeuristic curiosity Eric felt when he watched Kyle kiss Stan merely days ago, returned tenfold as Kyle pushed his boxers down his hips, exposing more pale flesh. Eric's widened eyes blinked as the material pooled around Kyle's ankles, swallowing the lump in his throat that had risen as soon as Kyle started to shed himself off his clothes.

Kyle stepped out of them, Eric's eyes trained on Kyle's every movement, before he got in the hot tub.

Eric felt like an idiot, standing there dumbly and fully-clothed. Kyle probably expected Eric to be naked too, considering the doubt and embarrassment that clouded his face following his impromptu – and unreciprocated – striptease.

They stared at each other patiently for a couple of minutes, waiting for each other to speak or move even if deep down they knew they could be waiting all night. Eric's hands fidgeted at his side, his shoulders stiffening with anxiety as he stared at Kyle. He thought of stripping, as humbly assured as Kyle had, and cringed. The only reaction from Kyle he could envision upon seeing him naked was one of disappointment or – worse yet – laughter.

He gazed at Kyle, cinnamon colored hairs sticking to his chest, and imagined his own naked body. His love handles and lack of chest hair, and whether Kyle would like that.

Eric tugged at his shirt thoughtfully, before Kyle suggested, "I won't look if you don't want me to?"

"No you can look," Eric replied, rolling his eyes. He realized how ridiculous Kyle's suggestion was, but it did reassure him. "Just don't laugh…"

"I wouldn't do that," Kyle assured.

"Alright,"

Eric quickly took his shirt off, not wanting to feel exposed for too long. It would be fine once he was in the hot-tub, half of his body, (the half he was the most self-conscious about) submerged.

He didn't dare meet Kyle's eyes as he knelt down to undo the laces of his sneakers, kicking them off and nearly falling over.

"Motherfucker…" Eric muttered angrily, a blush crawling up his bare chest.

It dissipated when he heard Kyle laugh, and he felt brave enough to look at an equally red Kyle and laugh under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, staring up at the dark sky.

"Quit stalling, gorgeous!" Kyle teased. "Take those pants off!"

Eric didn't know if Kyle was capable of making him flush any more, but somehow, Kyle's cheering and laughter filled Eric with confidence. He carried on the rest of his striptease with an arrogant smirk, giving Kyle what he wanted. It was easier to take his clothes off when he wasn't taking himself too seriously, aided by Kyle's encouraging, amused grin.

That grin faded, however, when Eric removed his boxers and instead Kyle parted his lips curiously, impressed. His eyes roaming down and staying there longer than Eric was expecting.

Eric sat close to Kyle in the hot tub, the warmth of the water strangely comforting, even if its bubbling was doing something interesting to Eric's sensitive, still erect cock. He wondered if Kyle felt the same, his eyes sheepishly travelled to the bottom half of Kyle's body, obscure and clouded in the warm, rippling water. All Eric could make out were pale thighs and a stiff, eagerly pink member.

Sweat started to collect under Eric's arms, pinching the rest of his skin and aiding the ache between his legs. Their hands were placed firmly at their sides because they weren't quite sure what to do with them. In fact, it all seemed rather anti-climactic.

Eric decided to break the silence.

"Gorgeous, huh?" He joked, shifting closer to Kyle. He noticed Kyle's own sweat, glistening on his skin, a sheen defining envious but humble pecs.

I had no idea how fit he is.

Eric's mouth grew heavy, and a part of him wondered if after months of no physical contact and Kyle's implied stamina, he'd able to keep up with him.

"What?" Kyle asked distractedly, before it dawned on him. "Oh, shut up…"

A blush burned his freckles, Eric's tongue darted out to subtly lick his lips.

"You can't take it back…" Eric teased.

"I just wanted to get you naked," Kyle shrugged nonchalantly, leaning into Eric nonetheless.

That aura, which drew Eric helplessly to Kyle as if he were magnetic grew stronger as Kyle's hazy emerald eyes met his. Kyle was so close to touch, close to take, hot and aroused, wanting him. Eric's insecurity, his pride, was slipping away, not caring if it meant he could get himself and Kyle off.

"Because you're pretty hot," Kyle finished, whispering humidly.

Fragments of those dreams rushed to the forefront of Eric's mind, plagued by the scent of Kyle's sweat pervading his nose, he could taste it.

Eric's hooded eyes travelled down, landing on Kyle's shoulders, his breathing short.

Holy shit, those freckles.

Eric's heart rattled in his ears, liquefying his mind.

Kyle lifted his hand from the water and stroked the side of Eric's face gently, bringing him closer and coaxing their lips to meet; salty, warm and fervent. They both sighed through their noses, their sizzling breath ghosting their damp upper lips before they parted, kisses deepening as Eric pushed his tongue into Kyle's mouth.

Kyle moved his hand from Eric's face and squeezed the nape of his neck, Eric's full lower lip caught between his teeth. Eric ran his hand blindly up Kyle's thigh, Kyle parted his legs and moved until their heated bodies were pressed flush together.

The sensation of their bare skin meeting, coupled with their fierce, urgent kisses was heady. The small whimpers and gasps that escaped each other's mouths were amplified in the thin, limited air between them.

Eric pulled Kyle on top of him, as close as possible, Kyle's thighs either side of his hips, water sloshing out of the tub and onto the grass. The steam that furled from the hot tub crawled onto their flesh, prompting new layers of sweat. Their skin stuck and slid against each other, Kyle's chest hair tickling Eric's skin, as they writhed from gratifying sensations, pleading for more of each other. Kisses and chaste touches, teased Eric's arousal mercilessly, and he could feel Kyle's hardness bobbing rigidly against his in the water.

Eric's hand moved up Kyle's thigh, breaking away from the kiss only momentarily to position Kyle so that his hand could find their cocks. They both gasped shakily as Eric's hand wrapped around their erections, pressing them together, he struggled to grasp both Kyle's cock and his own girth. Kyle smashed their lips together, coaxing Eric to pump the stiff cocks in his hand, trying to pace himself, hardly able to think with Kyle's satisfied, begging moans against his mouth.

The kisses grew erratic as they keened to the twinned friction of Eric's hand and their own, strained skin rubbing together, clumsy but effective under the water, the pressure of the bubbles helping somewhat. Kyle's nails scraped across the nape of Eric's neck and Eric squeezed his eyes shut, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead.

Eric couldn't help but entertain the thought of fucking Kyle like this, being ridden in the water, when Kyle was on top of him and their bodies were pressed so closely together. Shyly, he ran his free hand down Kyle's back, cupping Kyle's ass before tentatively circling his opening. Eric felt Kyle tense and jolt at the feeling, his hand slowed around their cocks, and he feared he might have gone too far when Kyle backed away from his mouth.

Kyle nuzzled Eric's forehead with his own as he whispered, "we should go upstairs."

Eric nodded, his eyes lidded and focused on Kyle's lips. As Kyle moved away from him, he pined for their previous contact. Kyle's hand reached for Eric's under the water, guiding him out of the hot tub.

As their bare feet hit the cold stone of the patio, Eric barely had time to admire Kyle's wet, naked body before Kyle was back on him again. Fingers clawing into his soft chest hungrily as Eric hands roamed down Kyle's back, slick fingers skidding over glistening flesh as they kissed, panting and groaning when their lips were apart. Eric found himself so intensely carried away that when he felt Kyle trying to climb up his body, he hitched him up, fingers sinking into firm thighs. They clenched around Eric's waist, Kyle's hands digging into his shoulder blades.

Eric stumbled, Kyle was heavier than he expected, but he kept Kyle securely wrapped around him.

"You okay?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah," Eric nodded, "fine."

Kyle leaned in closer, grinning wickedly, lips brushing against Eric's, "bet you can't make it to my room."

"You're on," Eric smirked before capturing Kyle's mouth again.

Giving Kyle one last, reaffirming hitch, Eric made his way to the French doors. Thankful they were heading inside as shared body heat was the only thing keeping him warm.

Eric fumbled with the handle, unable to concentrate through the kisses he and Kyle were exchanging. Kyle noticed Eric's struggle, turning his head as he gave breathless, vague instructions.

The doors slid open and Eric sighed, exasperated, before Kyle's hand left his shoulder and instead cupped Eric's face, guiding his lips to his own.

Eric navigated his way through the kitchen, trying not to slip. They eventually made it to the stairs, and Kyle cast a look behind him.

"I won't drop you," Eric whispered into Kyle's neck.

Kyle nodded, entangling his fingers in Eric's sweat-soaked hair and kissing him as Eric ascended the stairs.

He had to stop a few times, one hand leaving Kyle's hip to hold onto the banister, distracted by Kyle's kisses that were threatening to floor him.

"Fucking hurry…" Kyle whispered huskily, before his tongue licked open Eric's mouth. It alerted Eric to Kyle's erection, prodding at his stomach.

"You're not making this easy, Kyle," Eric managed to get out a flustered retort between kisses.

Kyle snickered, nuzzling Eric's shoulder, pecking until he reached the juncture between Eric's shoulder and neck, leaving a hickey there. Eric hissed, and Kyle tugged at his hair. Eric hitched Kyle up again and continued his ascent until he reached the top.

"Where's your room?" Eric asked, his laboured breathing making it sound more like a demand.

Kyle pointed down the hallway and murmured, barely audible, "second door on your left."

Eric managed to follow Kyle's instructions, even if his mind was whirring, running on adrenaline and the promise of an impending orgasm.

Eric stumbled into Kyle's room, and Kyle huffed as they fell on his bed. They took the opportunity to drag their hands over their bodies, mouths still on each other. Eric ran his hands over the faint outline of Kyle's ribs, as Kyle arched into his touch, thick fingers skidding over small, hard nipples.

Kyle's hands moved between their chests, creating space between them and savouring things he hadn't before. All Eric could do was pant harshly, his energy dangling by a thread from the pressure of his aching arousal and from carrying Kyle upstairs.

Eric grabbed Kyle's hips, softly pushing him down, and Kyle's hands moved to Eric's back, finding purchase on broad shoulders. Kyle lifted his hips, causing Eric to press down and they whimpered loudly at the friction caused by their throbbing, slick erections rubbing together, teasing them with release.

They found an indulgent pace, a pleasurable give and take. Soon, their groans and pants were tripling, putting an end to their kisses. Their foreheads pressed together and lusty eyes didn't dare to meet, as their brows furrowed, bodies stinging with sweat. Kyle's nails raked down Eric's back as his cock rubbed against Eric's rhythmically, their chests rising and falling, synchronised, with harsh, rapid breaths.

Eric squeezed Kyle's hips greedily, thrusting against Kyle hard, biting his lip with effort as Kyle moaned, long and loud.

A hot pressure was building in Eric's gut, making his balls tight as pre-cum continued to slide, faster now, down his shaft.

"Oh, shit," Eric panted apologetically into Kyle's shoulder, sorry that he hadn't fucked Kyle, but this felt so great, and he needed a release. "I'm close, Kyle…"

Kyle just nodded, Eric could hear his heart thundering.

"Don't stop," Kyle breathed out, meeting Eric's thrusts.

Eric pressed Kyle's hips into the mattress as their pace quickened, grew rougher. The headboard thudded noisily against the wall, a metronome to their pants, whimpers and moans. The need to come was excruciating, burning for a release.

Eric kissed Kyle's face and neck, through his hooded eyes he could see the familiar expression of ecstasy he had walked in on when they first met. Eric wondered if he could make Kyle come harder than Stan did.

He didn't have much time to consider it when he stiffened against Kyle, crying out against Kyle's hot cheek as he came heavily, coating his stomach in white, cum slipping down their cocks. Eric groaned disappointedly as he rode his orgasm out, wishing he could have lasted longer. He rested his forehead on Kyle's shoulder, barely catching his breath as his thrusts became slow, gentle and sporadic.

Kyle shifted a little and the scent of his skin permeated Eric's nose. Eric flinched at the surprising feeling of shaky fingers threading through his nearly drenched hair.

"Eric…" Kyle moaned, yet to come.

Eric glanced down at Kyle's erection and smirked, reaching for it and pumping slowly, teasingly. As his hand moved easily over Kyle's damp shaft, he pressed the pad of his thumb to the sensitive flesh, making Kyle shudder.

Kyle bucked his hips, keening to Eric's hand and trying to create more friction.

"Faster..." Kyle whined.

Eric picked up his pace, kissing and laving at Kyle's sweaty neck. Kyle's head lolled to the side so Eric could cover more ground, his body still tight. A broken, quiet cry escaped Kyle's mouth as he approached his climax and he abruptly pulled Eric to his mouth. They kissed sloppily, before Kyle's hips raised off the sheets and he came in Eric's hand, sobbing gratefully into his mouth as he did.

Kyle rode his orgasm out, his fingers softening in Eric's hair and eyes searching for his in the dim light of the room. But Eric could see Kyle's face, the near imploring look in his eyes and all the words that needed to be said. It was so intense, rousing heaviness in Eric's heart, his mouth tried to form words but no sound.

When Kyle swallowed thickly and shifted his body, Eric took that as a cue to roll off of him. He squinted uncomfortably as Kyle reached over and turned the lamp on.

Eric ran his eyes over a spent Kyle, and he felt his cock twitch at the sight; Kyle's dick was softening, sweat reflecting in the light that flooded the room. Eric tried to think of something to say, but he was too boneless. All he wanted was to lie here with Kyle and forget that anything else existed.

Feeling the mattress dip slightly, Eric looked over and saw Kyle reaching for some tissues, wordlessly handing a couple to Eric. He had almost forgotten about the cum coolly drying on his stomach, or between his fingers. He cringed before quietly cleaning himself off, looking over when he heard Kyle chuckle, smirking at the sound. Glad that the seriousness had been forgotten, he wasn't good at that stuff (i.e. being honest) especially after amorous activities like that, making his mind sluggish.

Kyle sunk into his bed, smiling dreamily and he pushed away the curls plastered to his forehead. Eric kept his eyes on him, contemplative, admiring the shadows cast on Kyle's face and that smile Eric couldn't help but entertain pressing his lips to. The taste, the feel of Kyle's mouth elicited so many cravings that he put down to a post-coital high.

"Do you have a trash can somewhere?" Eric asked when he glanced at Kyle's stomach and saw used tissues still resting on it.

"What?" Kyle asked, before he remembered the tissues and added, "Oh, it's under the desk over there."

Eric took the tissues off of Kyle's stomach, sharing bashful smiles, before Eric got up. Honestly, he felt so emptied that he wasn't sure how he was able to stand.

"Eric, you're not going back just yet, are you?" Kyle asked as Eric made his way over to the trash can, like he wanted to get the question out without having to meet Eric's eyes.

"Why?" Eric responded, locating the trash can.

A pause, one that suggested Eric had called Kyle's bluff.

"Because you can stay here for the night," Kyle answered casually. "Keep me company?"

Eric's eyebrows raised, Kyle's offer was laced with innuendo and dirty promises. Ones that Eric didn't know if Kyle would follow through with, but at his point he didn't really care.

He thought of Kyle being here alone, this big house wasted on him, he thought of finding a way home and crawling into his bed, all the while wishing he was here. Maybe what Eric cared about wasn't sex, but doing the sensible thing by spending the night together.

Eric turned around, and he saw Kyle trying to sneak a look at him, to determine his answer.

"Sure," Eric smiled warmly.

Kyle's mouth twitched, Eric saw the thankfulness brimming in his eyes. It was the least he could do, Eric was grateful that Kyle even wanted him to stay.

Kyle got under the covers, and he lifted them in invitation for Eric to get under as well. They lay next to each other, but their hands remained firmly at their sides, just like in the hot tub.

"I had every intention of fucking you," Eric spoke, initiating the conversation once again.

Kyle chuckled shortly, rolling his eyes. "I know,"

Eric looked away, studying the walls when he explained, "But I was so close…"

He felt Kyle's on him, and he shrugged sheepishly, "that I just couldn't stop."

Kyle simply looked at him, and Eric fidgeted when he felt that intensity coming back. He didn't know if he had the answers Kyle needed, if he could be what Kyle wanted. He was so unsure.

"Maybe later we will," Kyle nodded, his tone almost consolatory. "Fuck, I mean."

The words took Eric back to what Kyle said earlier, about how Kyle thought making things physical would make his relationship with Stan worth his while, how he gave things to people that they didn't ask for, and for what? To keep people around.

Kyle bartered and negotiated the terms of all of his relationships in his head, giving people what he thought they wanted and maybe occasionally selling himself short. Eric inwardly squirmed at the thought, and looking at Kyle, a foreign wave of sympathy crashed over him. Tinged with a protectiveness, alarming in its ferocity and an understanding that could have silenced him.

"Kyle we don't have to- this was great," Eric tried to explain, stumbling over his words. "I'm fine with just this."

Kyle blinked, before smiling softly, "okay…"

With every realization Eric kept having, a picture was becoming clearer. Kyle was no longer an enigma, but a puzzle whose conclusion was in reach.

"I'm tired," Kyle said listlessly, his eyes closing.

"Me too," Eric whispered, trailing his eyes over Kyle who wasn't even trying to stay awake. And neither was he.

Eric reached over Kyle, switching the lamp off.

Later, Eric woke up with a start, as if remembering he was not in a familiar bed. His body was stiff, and he squinted at the filters of light stretching out over the room. The exhausted pallor of the sky suggested it was purging itself of the night, in other words, too soon for Eric to return to college, but he didn't mind.

His eyes landed on Kyle, sleeping heavily and facing him. Eric smiled before he could register it and he slowly stroked Kyle's cheek, as if touching him would let him know he was still here. That he wasn't going to leave him alone.

Kyle stirred and Eric brought his hand away, but before he could go back to sleep, Kyle moved closer and it made Eric want to do something he had never done before.

He kissed Kyle's hair before pulling Kyle on top of him, heat welling up in his chest at the feeling of their bare skin meeting in a way that was so chaste and unassuming. He felt Kyle's heart thud calmly, whilst the rate of his own heartbeat picked up.

He considered whether this was a good idea, if he should gently push Kyle off him and hope that Kyle didn't notice. But then he felt Kyle shift on top of him, relaxing into his hold.

~x~

Eric woke up to the sound of typing.

Cracking an eye open, he saw Kyle sitting up in bed next to him, fully dressed and on his laptop. His face was cast in the glow of the screen, his fingers dancing swiftly over the keys. Eric wondered what he was writing, he guessed he could just ask him…

"Good morning," Kyle said, sparing Eric a quick smile before returning to his work.

"Hi…" Eric murmured, his movements lethargic as he sat up, propping the pillow behind his head.

"Your clothes are on the edge of the bed," Kyle informed him, and Eric glanced at them, he lifted his foot and watched the clothes lift with it.

"Oh, okay," Eric replied, wishing he could make better conversation. "Thanks."

"That's alright," Kyle replied absently.

Eric looked over at Kyle, in his plaid pyjama bottoms and Looney Tunes t-shirt and smiled, wondering if Kyle's silence was good or not. He tried to see what Kyle was typing, it was some kind of research paper.

"What time is it?" Eric asked.

"Eleven thirty,"

"How long have you been awake?"

Kyle shrugged, "not that long."

Eric nodded, debating whether he should get dressed and just get back to college when his stomach rumbled, loudly.

He froze, mortified, crossing his arms over his stomach and sinking under the sheets. Kyle just laughed, moving his foot so it brushed against Eric's, the clothes falling to the floor.

"I haven't had any breakfast yet," Kyle said. "You want some?"

"Sure…" Eric replied timidly, smiling.

When Kyle promised Eric there'd be bacon on the menu for breakfast, he got dressed in quite a hurry. It'd be the perfect morning to cap a pretty awesome night, until he found out exactly what type of bacon was on offer. Turkey bacon.

Eric was reluctant and stubborn, whereas Kyle was hungry and trying to prove a point.

"You won't even notice the difference!" Kyle argued, watching the bacon crisp at the sides.

"I will, I've eaten enough real bacon to notice the difference!" Eric retorted, although he had to admit that it smelt pretty great. Maybe his hunger was going to his head.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was dealing with a bacon purist!" Kyle laughed indignantly. "Excuse my family for trying to stay kosher!"

Eric took a sip of his orange juice, before he asked, "have you ever tried real bacon, Kyle?

"You mean bacon from a pig?" Kyle said, turning the bacon over again. "Nope, never."

"So you've never eaten anything forbidden?" Eric didn't know the Hebrew word for it.

"Oh, totally," Kyle replied nonchalantly.

"You have?"

Kyle nodded, before glancing back at Eric and smirking. Eric couldn't help but smile too, and shift in his chair because he appreciated the thrill one might feel from breaking the rules, and any type of rule breaking was sexy. Especially on Kyle.

"Oh, you dirty boy, like what?" Eric teased, taking a piece of toast from the pile next to him.

"Shrimp, hot dogs…" Kyle shrugged, his back was turned to Eric but his voice was honeyed enough to make Eric laugh. "I even had a pepperoni pizza once."

"Wait, you can't eat pepperoni pizza?!" Eric asked, his eyes widening.

"Nope, can't bathe a goat in its mother's milk," Kyle explained. "In other words, no meat and dairy at the same time."

"But you went ahead and done it, anyway?"

"Yep…"

"You're so bad," Eric joked huskily, pleased when he heard Kyle chuckle.

"My mom and dad would freak out."

"They're not wild like you, huh?"

"Oh my God, shut up," Kyle laughed, obviously cringing.

As Kyle cooked the bacon, Eric stared over at the clock and wondered how long it would be before he was back in Harvard. Back to expectations, stress and reality. Somehow Kyle had managed to wrap them both up in this perfect house and make sure the outside world was none the wiser to their disappearance. It had only been a few hours, but it was enough to make Eric feel comfortable.

"Okay, nice and crispy," Kyle said brightly, turning the stove off and facing Eric, skillet in hand.

Eric stared at the strips of bacon, unimpressed, making Kyle's enthusiastic smile waver.

"Come on, Eric!" Kyle groaned. "Just try a little…"

"Fine," Eric sighed, holding out his plate.

With a spatula, Kyle poked at the bacon until it fell onto Eric's plate, grease dribbling onto the surface. Eric prodded at it with his fork as Kyle dished up his own breakfast.

"What do you think?" Kyle asked, pouring himself some orange juice.

"It's okay…" Eric nodded unconvincingly, swallowing it. "For fake bacon."

Kyle sighed and shook his head, "I really don't see what's so different about it…"

"Well, they're from two different animals!" Eric replied incredulously. "There's the big fucking difference right there!"

Kyle just laughed, covering his mouth as he did.

"Secondly, pigs are more delicious than turkeys," Eric continued. "You're really missing out."

Kyle just shrugged, placing a strip of bacon on some toast, taking a bite and making exaggerated, indulgent sounds. Eric wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes.

"So what were you writing upstairs?" Eric asked, begrudgingly enjoying the bacon.

"An essay," Kyle replied. "It's due in tomorrow."

"Have you finished it?"

"Nearly, I'll probably get it done tonight," Kyle answered, he stopped eating and scratched thoughtfully at his arm as he uneasily continued, "I've, uh, been stressing about it for weeks, I kept putting it off. But this morning, I don't know, I had like a surge of motivation suddenly."

Eric looked up and noticed the patient, shy look in Kyle's eyes.

"You did?" He said, his mouth suddenly dry. "That's great…"

Eric tried to go back to his breakfast, but he found himself curiously drawn to Kyle's eyes, still on him.

"I had a lot of fun last night, Eric," Kyle spoke softly, earnestly. Reminiscent of the intensity Eric had tried not to fall into.

"I know," Eric smiled, he had to diffuse it somehow. But he surrendered when Kyle looked at him, exasperated.

"Me too," he added quietly, but Kyle heard it loud and clear.

"Um, if you're ever available around finals and need a break from studying don't hesitate to call me," Kyle smiled, pushing his plate to one side and leaning over.

"Or I could call you before then?" Eric replied, leaning over as well, knowing he couldn't wait that long.

"I'd like that," Kyle grinned.

Their lips managed to meet when Kyle stood up on his tiptoes, the kiss was gentle and flirtatious, as if they wanted to kid themselves this was the first time. Last night happened, but in another world with other versions of themselves whose skin they hadn't quite wriggled out of. There was still so much more to come, more evenings, more mornings, dates and dirty pictures. Now, there was a kitchen island between them, standing in their way and if Eric could stop kissing him he would have pulled Kyle over and onto his lap.

The sound of the front door opening made Kyle freeze and pull away from Eric's lips.

"Oh my God, they're back already?!" Eric could hardly hear Kyle's soft, panicked question through the lusty haze the kiss had left him in.

"What?"

"My parents! My parents are back! They're not supposed to be getting back until tonight, why didn't they call-" Kyle's hushed voice was frantic and fast, straining slightly before realization washed over him. "Oh shit! My phone is outside! Oh no, oh fuck, no…"

"Kyle, what's the problem?" Eric asked, getting off the tall stool he was perched on.

"Kyle, bubbe?" A feminine voice drifted into the kitchen.

"Oh fuck…" Kyle despaired, pacing, his fingers straining white as they tightly gripped his curls.

"Kyle, bubbe, are you okay?" The feminine voice – that Eric guessed was Kyle's mom – pressed on, concerned, over the sound of jingling keys and luggage being placed on the floor.

"Hi, mom, I'm fine," Kyle turned his head and called out shakily. "How was your trip?"

Eric stepped closer to Kyle, irritated by his nervous demeanour but worried that any more unexplained stress would cause Kyle some kind of panic attack.

"Kyle, what the hell is going on?" Eric asked firmly.

"Just don't be pissed off okay?" Kyle avoided the question, backing away from Eric.

The action hurt Eric, and he realized that perhaps he should be a little gentler. He didn't want to be one of the reasons Kyle was so on edge right now. "Why would I-"

Kyle backed away again until he could no more, bumping into the fridge. Still, he reached his hand out and pleaded, "Promise me it won't change anything."

Now, it was Eric's turn to avoid the question.

What the Hell does that mean?

He took Kyle's hand regardless and looked imploringly into his eyes when he said, "Kyle you need to slow down."

Kyle's mouth jittered as it opened to speak, but before any sound could come out, his eyes widened, staring at a spot behind Eric. He shut his mouth quickly.

"Kyle, who's this?" Kyle's mom asked, her voice close enough for Eric to know that she had entered the kitchen, along with Kyle's dad.

With Kyle unable to speak, Eric sighed and turned around, ready to introduce himself until one person robbed him of his voice.

"Eric?" Kyle's dad asked, confusion marring his wife's face.

"Professor Broflovski?" Eric managed to squeak out.