A simple one-shot involving Kyle and Cartman keeping their relationship secret.
Pairing: Kyman
It's warm outside today―uncharacteristically warm. A hot breeze floats across my face, saying 'fuck you' to the fact that it's January in Colorado. It's only fitting that the weather act strangely on a Tuesday, a day I've come to acknowledge as the unholiest day of the week.
Just like every Tuesday over the past two months, I'm standing under a tree in the park. Looking down casually at my green converse, I wait to forsake everything I've ever cared about and everything I've known to be true: my best friends, my religion, my sense of morals, my very identity itself.
A bird flies by, chirping happily. I find myself wondering what it's like to be a bird... Flying with no worries, not having to be concerned with what other people might think...
"What's up, Jew?"
My heart pounds at the sound of his voice, and not in the way it used to.
"Nothing much, fat ass," I say back, looking at Eric Cartman with a glare.
"Ay! Is that any way to talk to the man of your dreams?"
"Fuck off," I mutter, blushing despite my words.
"Aww, you're turning into a little Jewish tomato... A Jew-mato!"
"God damn it, Cartman!" I stomp my foot, feeling that old anger rise up in me. I look into his eyes, and... The fury doesn't quite vanish, but it lessens slightly, as much as I hate to admit it.
We stand there for awhile, staring at each other without a word passing between us. He smirks at me, pleased with my anger, like it's his goal in life to piss me off. For the longest time, I would've sworn that it was.
He takes a step forward, and I have to push him back.
"Dude!" I hiss, looking both ways to make sure no one we know can see us.
"Kahl, no one's fuckin' watching. Chill out, Jew."
"Don't tell me to chill out, fat ass," I say as I double-check the area. Once I'm sure that nobody can see us, I turn back to Cartman with a sigh, giving him an "Okay".
He puts his hands on either side of my head, coming in closer to pin me against the tree. I stare into his eyes, two gorgeous orbs of caramel, my heart beating erratically. I am a sick, sick fuck, I tell myself.
Cartman is kissing me. Yes, Eric Cartman is actually pressing his lips against the lips of Kyle Broflovski. His tongue snakes out to coax my lips to part, and I involuntarily moan, allowing it access. Every time he kisses me I feel like I'm going to fucking explode, and now is no different.
He pulls away from me slowly, but I don't want him to leave yet. I put my hands on either side of his face, pulling him back in for another passionate kiss. I think he's chuckling, but I ignore it, clinging desperately to him.
When he finally pulls away from me, he's moaning my name softly. "I fucking love Tuesday."
I'm laying against the tree, panting.
"You know, Kahl," Cartman says, "I never thought I'd be calling you, of all people, my boyfriend."
"I'm not your boyfriend," I say on reflex.
"My girlfriend, then? God, I didn't think you were that much of a fag."
I push him. But, oddly enough, there's a slight smile across my lips. I'm enjoying his company.
I repeat: I am a sick, sick fuck.
Meh, I'm not a fan of this one-shot, but it's all right. Review and tell me what you think.