Author's Note: Hello! Claire here. The story "After Hours" is an older work of fiction on my AO3 account, so despite the fact that it is indeed complete, it will take sometime to transfer every chapter to this site. A reason for this is since After Hours has been originally completed, I've improved in my writing abilities, so I shall take the time to go over each chapter and make adjustments where I see fit.

Thank you for the understanding.

-BookishTea (Claire)

"Time changes everything except something within us which is always surprised by change." - Thomas Hardy

Kyle Broflovski liked to consider himself a creature of habit, someone who preferred order to chaos. So naturally, Kyle fell into his father's footsteps and pursued a career in law. The years at university were long and hard, but he always enjoyed a challenge. And following this life, he soon found himself in Denver. Gone were his childhood adventures in snowy fields, instead crumpled coffee cups and spreadsheets took its place.

Kyle sighed as he leaned back, a wary hand running through his hair. He tried to ignore the way his hand was caught in the curls, a jungle of untameable red. Some things appear to never change, even with time. Speaking of which...

A sudden ping from Kyle's pocket had him pulling out his sleek phone, humming under his breath, he wasn't surprised to see another message from his mother.

I'm so excited to see you, bubby! xox

He contemplated ignoring it, perhaps answering it when he got home after work. But that would be pointless, she'd just worry even more.

Before he had the chance to respond, his phone pinged with another message.

And don't forget to pack a couple of sweaters! It's a bit chilly this time of year. xox

Kyle rolled his eyes, but still smiled fondly at his mother's antics. She meant well.

Don't worry, I will. Thanks, Mum.

Not wanting to spend the rest of his day having a long winded conversation with his mother, quickly Kyle turned off his phone. Only feeling a tad bit guilty for doing so, but everyone needs space. Even more so if you had to deal with his crazy mother. Familiar image of her behind his eyelids, immediately Kyle was reminded of the lack of sleep he got last night. Which wasn't very much different from this week, or year.

Blindly Kyle groped for the styrofoam by his side, first feeling the heat than anything else. Drawing the cup close, he shuddered at the presence of coffee lovingly undertoned by hazelnuts. This is what got him up in the morning, something that he was only slightly ashamed to admit. It made him sound pathetic, saying that.

He took a swig from the cup, embracing the burn as it slid down his throat. It wasn't his fault, none of this was. He was doing so well, finally he had escaped the claws of South Park and its crazy citizens. Here at Colorado's capital he had established himself at a prestigious law firm, with a considerable pay to support him. The work might be a bit tedious at times, but it was his.

Life was good in that respect, thankfully he wasn't eating week old pizza from dumpsters. The only issue he had, a small thing really, was his love life. Kyle didn't think he was needy or anything, so he didn't understand why he had no one to split the rent with, or share his bed. Instead he had the occasional one-night stands, usually with guys from the local bar who looked impressive under dimmed lighting and a haze of alcohol. In the morning however, Kyle was left with a gritty mouth and the unmistakable sense of disappointment. Those were the good nights, the ones where he actually got to sleep.

Last night was the complete opposite, one of the worst he's had in a while, something he blames partly on that date. The possibility of seeing him again, and the chance he'd change his mind was constant. He hated it, feeling so used and unsatisfied. Fuck, he wasn't a child anymore.

But that's what he felt like, a stupid puppy yearning for affection from an oblivious owner. And he despised it, what it had done to him and what it was continuing to do. Kyle was caught between punching Stan in that attractive face of his, or kissing the moron until these fantasies were gone. In two days time he would face the object of his pining, and he would realize these emotions were fake. Or that's what he wanted.

Kyle Broflovski was a creature of habit, and nobody was going to affect that. Not even Stan Marsh.

"Are you always this stupid?"

"N-no, sir."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you're really busting my balls here, Haley."

"I'm sor-ry, sir. That was never my intentions." Cartman waved off his assistant's apologizing, not really that pissed off with her. But tension was building with the reunion's upcoming date, and Cartman couldn't resist picking on Haley's naivety. It was her own fault for being so sensitive, idiot.

"Then you should have gotten it right the first time. Now go get it fixed."

"Yes! Right away!" And with that the petite woman was scampering away, reminding Cartman of a particular blonde from his youth. Both were so easy to rile up.

Eyeing the dishes of Chinese food by his papers, Cartman sighed. She forgot to take them with her. Again.

"Haley!" he screamed, the harshness of his voice vibrating within the glass room. It lingered for a moment, echoing until Haley's shimmering locks peered back into the room.

"Y-yes?"

Cartman didn't say anything, and instead rose a brow as he nodded to his desk. Once again questioning his assistant's intelligence, and whether he should just get a new one.

"I am s-so sorry sir, I totally f-"

"Haley, just fucking take it."

She blinked for a moment, that blank look appearing once again. Alright, now she was starting to get under his skin. Taking deep calming breaths, Cartman fought back the desire to throw his stapler at her face. Time had done him well, and with it he gained control over his impatience and anger. But like always, Haley seemed to push Cartman's buttons.

Deciding to tread lightly, Haley stepped into the room. Like she was facing an angry bear, she kept eye contact as she slowly approached the desk and gingerly picked up the plastic containers.

"Will that be everything, Mr. Cartman?"

"If your head is removed from your ass, then yes. And bring me my dinner. The right order this time."

She didn't need anymore confirmation after that, thankful to make her escape without any injuries this time.

"Dumbass." Cartman muttered under his breath, musing over what he called a life. He gave a jolt in surprise at the sudden vibration in his pocket, causing him to quake like a bowl of jello.

Probably those idiots in the east branch, Cartman thought with a sigh, digging his phone out.

2 new messages from: The Poor Kid

Blinking in surprise, Cartman thumbed through his inbox. Disregarding all of the business related messages in there, and going straight to his childhood friend's.

Heyyy, dude. are u exciteed for this reunion? Im so am!

Totally going to be ur wingman, get u all of the hoot guys.

Cartman gave a loud snort in amusement, the text was practically radiating alcohol. Chewing his bottom lip, Cartman quickly shot off a response.

How drunk are you, Kenny?

Message me when you can communicate like an actual human being, I'm working.

With that Cartman tossed his phone to the opposite side of his desk, not wanting Kenny to be another distraction to his work. Even if he was right, which was a miracle all together.

His phone vibrated again, shaking the papers underneath it with a mini earthquake. Cartman rolled his eyes, picking his pen up in an attempt to focus on numbers that needed to be crunched. It was hard being the CEO of half a dozen small companies, and a rather large time traveling enterprise.

Another vibration. Oh screw it, who was he kidding. Filled with curiosity, Cartman quickly snatched up his cell.

I forgot u were some bigg businessman, am i bothering u? But seriously, were going 2 get u laiddd...Ok, maybe im a little buzzed.

Cartman chuckled lightly, glad to see that Kenny was always the same poor kid. Race car driving didn't change him, which he couldn't say for the other two.

He grimaced with the thought, old faces and memories stabbing his chest like prickly sheets of glass.

Well, I am. Cartman paused, wondering if he'd regret this later. Probably. Still, his fingers flew across the keyboard.

If you think you're up to see me getting sucked, then I'm all yours, poor boy. Try not to vomit yourself to death until we meet up.

Haley popped in, a little unnerved to see her boss in such a good mood. Usually that was reserved for when his empire increased in size, or some natural disaster happened.

"Sir, I have your food. The correct order this time." Haley mumbled, lifting to show Cartman the white bulky bags.

The scent of chow mein and rice wafting from the bags, it had both of their mouth's watering. Cartman waved her in, eyes not lifting from his phone's screen.

"Grab two plates, Haley."

"Sir?"

With a smirk, he peered upwards. "Do you want some or not?"

"Uh, yes sir! I-I'll go get some right now."

The vibration in his hand pulled him away from the sight of Haley's frantic movements, a grin at his lips.

Then South Park better look out, 2 sexy guys are on their way. Im making no promises, i plan on getting shitfaced this whole week. Fuckk, we should meet up!

Clicking his tongue in fondness, Cartman lazily responded back.

The first round will be on me, but only if you'll help me with a little prank.