A/N: As far as I know, nobody has EVER brought up the ending scene from "Cartman Finds Love" where he sings to Kyle at the Nuggets game. I understand that South Park isn't the best with continuity, but Jesus Christ. You'd think that maybe SOMEONE would have said SOMETHING. Especially Kyle. So that's what this story is for, lovelies!
Rated M for offensive dialogue and cursing. Y'know, the typical South Park stuff.
Enjoy my Kyman one-shot!
My eyes darted back and forth at all the googly-eyed and cutesy stares that were being shot in my direction. Sweat ran down my face, as I blinked incredulously at Cartman's performance. I tried not to let anyone notice the faint blush that tinted my cheeks.
Didn't he realize how embarrassing this was? Especially in front of Nichole? I shuddered and buried my face in my arms. This was not fucking happening right now.
I was asleep in class, or better yet, still in bed. Like this whole, stupid fucking rumour about my "relationship" with my worst enemy had never even escaped his fat fucking lips. Maybe if I pinched myself—OW! Okay nevermind.
Nope, here I was awake and alive, unfortunately, witnessing the gayest thing I've ever seen in my entire life. From fucking CARTMAN. The fat dumbass!
I could hear Nichole giggling beside me, and she cooed my name. She thought this was just adorable. Well, it felt more like I was being tortured horrendously with the most sadistic and inhumane procedures known to man. This was the equivalent of shoving a 10 foot long, 10 inch wide, steel pipe up my asshole while singing "I'm Super, Thanks for Asking."
And finally, it was over. As everyone scrambled out of the stadium to go looking for some stupid, imaginary Batmobile, I left. To go home. And possibly sedate myself. With bleach or alcohol or something that would make me forget… w-whatever the fuck that was.
The worst part? Not even Cartman's behaviour or his embarrassing bullshit stories. No, the fact that he screwed up possibly the only chance I will ever have at dating a cute chick. All because he can't handle two different races dating, or some other ridiculous crap like that. Nichole was the last chance I had at feeling normal. And Cartman fucking ruined it.
Typical fucking fatass.
I trudged through the snow at a snail's pace, not bothering to care if I was late for dinner. Mom would just have to deal with it, and try to understand the trauma I was going through. That didn't seem likely, however. Normally, she brushed off my stories with a, "Stop making things up, Bubby. What will the other parents think?"
Fuck the other parents. Fuck.. Them. All. And fuck Cartman. Stupid, dumb, fat, thick-headed, racist asshole. He wasn't even gay! It was all a sick ploy to get Nichole and Token together, and no doubt another successful attempt at making my life miserable.
"Kahl! KAAAHHL!" As if on cue, the devil himself ran up behind me and tried to put a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, glaring daggers straight at Cartman's mock-innocent face. It made me physically sick, but there was no time to just stand there staring pointlessly, and I lunged out.
My fist collided with his pudgy face, sending him stumbling to the ground.
"Goddammit, Kahl! What the hell was that for?" He rubbed his red cheek furiously, and stood up, his husky figure overshadowing my lean one.
"That was for humiliating me in front of everybody in that stadium, you fucking fatass! Don't talk to me, don't touch me, hell, don't come ANYWHERE near me!" I screamed and tried to walk away, but he was quick for his size, and positioned himself in front of me. "Move, Cartman."
"Make me, little Jew-boy."
He eyed me while sporting his signature, shit-eating grin. I wanted so desperately to pummel his lights out, and I knew I could. He wasn't that strong despite being bigger than me, but before I could throw yet another punch, he got right up in my face, and knocked me to the ground.
"That song was for yew, Kahl. For yew."
I blinked, wide-eyed, then gained my composure. "No it wasn't, you fat piece of shit! It was for Token and Nichole because of your dumbass, racist beliefs!"
"At least I don't believe in some stupid candles instead of getting Christmas presents every year, dirty Jew-rat."
"W-wait, what? Dude, you are so fucking stupid, I can't even believe it. And that's not what we were talking about, so don't change the subject!"
Cartman leaned forward, hot breath escaping his lips and brushing over me. It smelled of Cheesy Poofs. I didn't know whether or not to be intimidated, embarrassed or to just keel over and barf by how close he was getting. "Not my fault, you have a shitty religion, Kahl."
"RAAAH!" At that moment, I snapped. I could care less about getting in trouble or causing a scene or doing anything like that, all I wanted was to put Cartman through so much unbelievable pain that he would cry and run away and never bother me again. We wrestled on the cold ground for what seemed like a long time, until someone came up behind me and pulled me up.
I half wished it was Stan, so that he could make me feel better.
"Guys, what are you doing?" It was Token, to my surprise. And he was with Nichole again, big shocker. I tried to hide my scowl.
Cartman instantly stood up and clasped his hands together. "Aww, you gais. That's sew cute, walking home togethah."
"What's going on? Why are you two fighting?" Nichole asked, giving me a sympathetic look, and my stomach churned. Cartman butted in with his usual bullshit.
"I'm afraid there is, uh, trouble in paradise. You see, Kahl was—"
"You shut your fat fucking mouth, Cartman!" I seethed and went to claw at him, but Token kept a strong hold on my jacket.
"Anyways, Kahl and I were just walking home, hand in hand, as usual, when suddenly, he accused me of cheating on him with Brad Paisley. I assured him that he was wrong, but he was just seeeew upset about it—"
"Shut up, fatass!"
"Oh but Kyle, you don't need to worry, remember? Cartman poured his heart out to you on that stage. He really loves you!" Nichole started to rub my back, but I wasn't having anymore of this colossal helping of stupid bullshit. It was time for the truth to come out. Once and for all.
"For the last fucking time, I'm NOT gay, and neither is this fat lard-ass, he was just using it as a way to get you to stop liking me, Nichole! He just wanted to play matchmaker with you and Token because you're both black! But the truth is, Nichole, I think you're kinda cute, and I asked you out to that game becau—"
"Because he wanted to get back at me. But everything is totally fine, you gais."
Goddammit Cartman!
"No! No, that's not it at all. Nichole, I actually liked you for a bi—"
"Ohhh kay, I think Kahl needs to get some rest, he's letting his emotions get to his head." Cartman slapped his hand over my mouth before I could finish, much to my dismay, but I couldn't do anything about it. I guess his grip was stronger than I thought.
"Well, I hope you two work it out." Token said absentmindedly, checking out Nichole from the corner of his eye.
She agreed with him, of course, disregarding every single thing I had said not moments before. Her warm smile didn't help in the least, and her comment following helped even less. "Yeah, you guys are adorable together."
Instantly, I felt my cheeks heat up. What the fuck? All of the sudden, it felt like it was ten million degrees out here, and my heart banged relentlessly against my chest. I struggled to get out of Cartman's hold, obviously just to run away from this goddamned situation.
"Mmph! Mmmhhmmmphh!" I tried to yell after the couple as they turned to walk away, but soon they were out of sight, and Cartman finally let me go.
I rubbed at my face. "You fucking asshole, your nails hurt my skin!"
"Waah, waah, Kahl. Geez, all you ever do is bitch and bitch like the Jew you are."
"In case you didn't notice, you ruined my LAST chance to feel like I fucking matter, okay? But then again, what else is new for you?"
"But Kaaahl. If I don't make your life hell, then who will? I mean, you don't seriously like Nichole, do you? You have your hippie boyfriend, Stan, after all." He crossed his arms, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw remorse wash over him. Or was it jealousy?
Again, my cheeks flushed red, but I hid them with my scarf. "He's not my fucking boyfriend, Cartman. Why does everyone keep saying that?"
Cartman put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me closer. I wanted to pull away, so why wasn't I? I must have been immobilized by my pure loathing.
"Let's be honest, Kahl. You guys are total fags. You and Stan are obviously in love because you spend every moment together. It's like, seriously, seww obvious."
I didn't know what to say for a minute. There was no sense arguing because he was never going to listen. I just stood there in silence, as the sun peaked over the trees and a last glimmer of light winked beyond the horizon. Kind of like the hope in my life fading away.
"Kahl. I sang that song for yew."
I still didn't believe him, not for a fucking millisecond. Because the moment I let myself slip and actually think that somebody cared for me like that, well, it would be all over. Cartman would never let me live it down, he'd never cease the teasing. It would be all, "Kahl is SEWW gay for me," and blah, blah, fucking blah. Tears came to my eyes, but I was desperate not to let him notice. There was only one last thing I could think to say.
"If anyone here is gay, it's you, Cartman. For me."
His eyes widened, but he didn't falter. He still kept his giant, meaty hands over my shoulders (why?) In fact, he tightened the grip, and I squirmed from the slight pain.
"Why the hell would you think that, dumb Jew?" Cartman's eyebrows furrowed.
"Because if you really did write that song for me, and not for the sake of Token and Nichole's relationship, then why should I believe otherwise?" Hah. I had him now. That dumb, fat fuck was at a loss for words, probably for the first time in his life. It felt pretty good to have the upper hand.
Cartman stayed quiet for longer than I thought, as if he was mulling it over. No surprise, it probably took his tiny brain forever to put together even the simplest of concepts. His eyes darted quickly up and down, and he looked almost nervous. It was harder to see in the dark, but he might have even gone a little pink. Then, he smacked me right across the face.
"I seriously fucking hate you, Kahl. I hate you sew much."
And with that, he turned his massive body around and sulked off, leaving me stunned that he never tried to deny my accusation.