A/N

I felt like Kyman was due to be given another go, seeing as Forgive Me was more of a friendship fic with hidden feelings that weren't really expressed. Also, I decided to make them twenty-one as I believe that that's the legal age in America for drinking alcohol. Oh, and Kyle's ex-boyfriend is completely made-up; probably someone he met in one of his college classes. Enjoy!


It was late. Too late. He shouldn't have been here, nor did he want to be. In fact, he would have rather been anywhere but here, sitting on an old, uncomfortable bar stool next to a group of drunken rejects. Although, at this point, he considered himself to be a reject too.

"Another vodka, sir?"

He didn't respond verbally, forcing his drunken self to slowly nod his head at the bartender instead. This was his fourth refill and he had no intention of stopping any time soon. He figured having a hangover in the morning would mask the pain of heartbreak and self-hatred he had been experiencing at the time. The headaches and nausea would definitely be hard to deal with; he knew this. But he decided that any form of torture he could possibly put himself through was ten times better than what he was going through now.

"Christ, Kahl. I didn't think you were one for hard liquor."

He looked behind himself at the tall brunet approaching him, almost falling off of the unstable seat in the process. He had forgotten about his usual Saturday nights at this particular bar. He grabbed onto the counter to regain stability as the other male made no attempt at holding back his laughter. He was a whole new level of dizzy.

"Fuck'ff, Car'man." The larger individual sighed at his friend, pulling out his wallet and handing a couple of tens over to the bartender before helping Kyle out of his seat. It was easier said than done, as he could hardly even sit down properly, let alone stand. Losing his patience, he flung the short male over his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't vomit down his back. Luckily, he managed to keep his last meal down as he was carried out of the bar to Cartman's car. "Stooop!" he slurred as he was placed in the passenger seat and strapped in. "I wan'a g'baaack."

"Shut the fuck up, Jew. I'm bringing you back to your dorm and you're going to tell me why the fuck you're getting wasted by yourself at three in the goddamn morning."

He slammed the passenger side door and made his way around the car, sitting in the driver's seat and sticking the key in the ignition. Within seconds, they were on the road. Surprisingly, there were a lot of people out driving at this time of night. It wasn't long before they were stuck in traffic, listening to nothing but the silent hum of the radio and the odd car horn of a nearby vehicle.

"Where's Ssstan?" Kyle asked, looking out of the window for any sign of his best friend.

"He should be back at the dorm, asleep," was the annoyed response. "Now shut the fuck up and try to sober up a bit before we get back."

The intoxicated twenty-one year old complied, leaning tiredly back in his seat. His head was pounding, his stomach, churning. He longed to just lay in his comfortable bed and drift off to sleep without a care in the world. However, he knew that that wasn't going to happen. Not after the events that had taken place that day.


"I don't understand what you're trying to tell me," Kyle remarked, looking into the eyes of his current boyfriend of about a year in bewilderment.

The male in question sighed, rolling his eyes. "What's not to understand? I don't want to be with you anymore."

Kyle was at a loss for words. They were fine no more than a couple of hours ago, so why, he wondered, did he suddenly decide to break it off? He hadn't responded, which led the man beside him to speak once again.

"I just don't think we're right for each other," he said a bit softer. "I mean, it was fun for a while, it really was. But you and I both know that it just wasn't meant to be. Sorry, Kyle."

At this point, the redhead had become infuriated. "What the fuck do you mean, 'you and I both know'? I didn't know shit! How long have you been feeling this way?"

"A while," he replied simply.

"Define 'a while'!"

"I don't know, Kyle, a long while!"

"That's fucking ridiculous! You've been leading me on for all of this time and now you decide to break it off? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Alright, listen here," the blond male exclaimed sternly. "I was trying to be nice about this, but you're pushing me over the edge. I know what you've been doing behind my back, Kyle. I fucking know about all of it."

"Well I'm afraid you're going to have to shed some light on the situation, because I have no idea what the hell you're talking about!"

"Don't play stupid, you little slut!" he yelled. "I see the way you act with your friends; constantly hanging off of them like a cheap decoration, hugging them, sleeping with them. Christ, what kind of an attention whore are you?"

"I am not an attention whore," was the immediate response.

"Oh, please. You're not fooling anyone. We all see the way you cling to Stan, the way you 'mess around' with Kenny. Oh, and don't even get me started on the looks you give to that Cartman guy. Two words: sexual tension. Now that I'm out of your life, you can finally give all three of them a shot. You're so fucking welcome, Kyle."

By now, the small Jew's eyes were filled with tears. "Dude, please. They're just my friends."

He scoffed, turning around and walking away. "You're nothing but useless trash. Always have been, and always will be."

And then, he was gone. Out of Kyle's life for good, leaving only memories and those gut wrenching insults.

Slut.

Attention whore.

Useless.

Trash.


"Stop," Kyle mumbled to himself.

"Stop what, Jew?"

He looked over at Cartman in surprise, having forgotten about his presence. Shaking his aching head, he dismissed him completely. He didn't want to talk about this, it was too soon. However, he knew good and well that that was exactly what the brunet wanted to do. And sure enough, he did. Right as they exited the car, made their way up to the room, tiptoed past Stan's bedroom, and sat on the couch, Cartman brought up the topic.

"Tell me what happened," he whispered, surprisingly calm.

"Fuck off," the redhead replied, no longer slurring his words.

"Fine, if you're going to be a little bitch then I'll just leave," he snarled, standing up.

"Fine."

"Fine, whatever."

"Whatever."

"Fine, that's fine."

"If you're going to leave then leave."

"I am, asshole."

"Good."

As Cartman began making his way to the door, he heard the boy behind him stand up abruptly. He turned around, hoping to see the Jew on his knees, begging the brunet to stay and talk about his "feelings", or something gay like that. However, what he saw was a blur of red running past him, straight into the bathroom. He knew something was wrong when he heard the unmistakable sound of retching.

"Kahl," he said cautiously, slowly entering the restroom. The redhead was hunched over the toilet bowl, throwing up. "Lightweight," he muttered to himself, sitting down beside his friend and rubbing his back. Once he had finished, the Jew leaned on Cartman's shoulder, attempting to catch his breath. Then, for the second time that night, Cartman carried Kyle away from whatever agony he was being put through and brought him into his room, laying him carefully on the bed while trying to make as little noise as possible. After all, he didn't want Stan coming in and taking over. 'Just let me have this,' he thought to himself as he tucked his friend into the many layers of blankets atop his mattress.

He had liked the hot-tempered redhead for a while now; about six years, to be exact. He had admitted it to himself, but not to anyone else. It took a long time, but he eventually came to terms with it and could finally look himself in the mirror without turning away. He had always cared about Kyle, even when they were kids. But he realized during his torturous time in high school that the feelings he had been experiencing were far from friendly. Luckily for him, Kyle came out senior year. Unluckily for him, he hadn't spent over a month being single since then. He hopped from guy to guy, craving lust and affection. It wasn't his fault, he was just a needy person. Cartman, on the other hand, constantly wanted, no, needed to feel like his existence was important to someone. He needed somebody to hold, to care for, to love. Some people joked around, saying that they were the perfect match. Others commented too, saying they were a match made in hell. Either way, all the brunet had heard was the word "match", and that was good enough for him.

"Cartman," Kyle coughed out. "Can you get me a glass of water."

He pondered a bit before answering with a bribe. "Only if you tell me what the everliving fuck has been bothering you." He nodded solemnly, watching gratefully as Cartman exited the room in order to fill up a glass of the clear liquid. Once he had returned to the room, beverage in hand, he passed it to the dizzy Jew and sat down beside him on the bed. They were both silent as Kyle downed his drink, which he had finished in seconds. "Slow down, Jew, you'll get sick again."

"I won't," he replied, placing the empty glass on the night stand. "I promise."

Cartman sighed, combing his long fingers through his neatly styled hair before remembering Kyle's part of the deal. "I believe you have something to tell me, Kahl."

Now, it was Kyle's turn to sigh. "I'll try, but I don't think I'll be able to keep my emotions in check," he said honestly. "It hurts too much." The brunet placed his hand on the other's right shoulder, tracing small circles on it with his thumb. Surprisingly, neither of them found their current predicament the slightest bit awkward or strange. It felt somewhat nice to be in each other's presence, sans the usual negativity. This encouraged Kyle to continue. "Dylan and I broke up," he breathed out. Cartman nodded in understanding, urging him to continue. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before speaking once again. "He said that he had been feeling unhappy in our relationship for a long time. He told me that I'm too clingy, but not with him. Apparently I spend too much time hanging off of you, Stan, and Kenny. He called me a slut, said I was worthless," he looked up at his friend with tear filled eyes. "Do you think I'm worthless, Cartman?"

The latter looked taken aback. "Of course I don't. That's retarded, Kahl."

"Dylan doesn't seem to think so," was the sniffled reply.

"You know what?" he raised his voice. "Fuck Dylan. That cunt was never good for you. He reprimanded you for being 'unfaithful'? Fucking hypocritical dick stain. I've seen him get a bit too close to his butt-fucker jocks of friends countless times. Even a few chicks! I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to get all butt-hurt and shit, but fuck me sideways, I probably should have, huh? You don't need him, Kahl. What you need is someone who actually gives a shit about you; he doesn't. To be perfectly honest, I don't think he ever did. Just like all of the other tools you've ever been with."

Once again, Kyle was left speechless. He had no idea that his boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, had been sneaking around behind his back. He questioned himself, wondering how he could have been so blind, so stupid. It was right in front of his eyes, yet he took no notice whatsoever. One of the disadvantages of falling in love easily.

"So, who do you think gives a shit about me?" he finally managed to ask.

"Your family, your friends. Shit, Kahl, a fuck-load of people would kill to see you happy."

"Anyone in particular who you think cares the most?" he whispered, needing some form of reassurance.

Cartman looked over at the Jew, preparing himself for the explanation he was about to give. He looked directly into his eyes, gazing into the gorgeous, green hue behind the shining tears threatening to drip down his beautiful features. "I know that everyone else would highly disagree if they heard me saying this, especially Stan, but I do, Kahl. I care about you more than I care about myself. It's always been this way. Ever since we first met in kindergarten, I knew that you were important to me. That you were someone I had to protect. I may have shown it in a weird way, but I knew, Kahl. I fucking knew that you'd be the person to change my life for the better, and you did. Every single goddamn day of my life, I think to myself, 'Would Kahl be pissed off if I did this?', and if the answer is yes, I don't. You made me realize that being a good person could make someone's day. You make my day."

At this point, tears were streaming down the redhead's face. Although this time, unlike earlier that day, these were tears of joy. He'd never been told such positive things about himself, and from Eric Cartman, of all people. Lord knows he needed to be told that. He cupped the brunet's cheeks in his hands and leaned over, gently brushing his lips over the slightly parted ones in front of him. "I'm glad to hear it," he smiled, letting go of his face in order to wrap his arms around Cartman's neck.

The larger male had been shocked, but snaked his arms around the Jew's waist in a loving embrace regardless. He placed his chin atop the curly locks and breathed in the familiar scent, calming himself. Kyle had just kissed him. On the lips. By choice. Fuck yes.

"Ehh, Ky?" They jumped away from each other in surprise and looked at the slightly younger man standing in the doorway. They had no idea how long Stan had been standing there, but, judging from his facial expression, it had been a while. "Listen, you guys just do what you gotta do," he laughed nervously. "Just don't make too much noise, yeah?" With that, he was gone. Presumably back into his room, no doubt about to have a very graphic nightmare about what he had just witnessed.

"Well, that ruined the moment," Cartman whispered.

"Yeah," Kyle agreed awkwardly. They glanced over at each other and held back a laugh. Kyle moved over a bit and pulled the blanket off of the empty space. "Hop in."

Cartman complied, kicking off his shoes and joining the redhead in his warm, comfy bed. They laid facing each other, Cartman going as far as draping his arm across the other's waist. This allowed Kyle to snuggle up to his chest, burying his face into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. The brunet kissed his head, content with the position they were now in. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Kyle smiled up at him. "Thanks for taking care of me, it means a lot."

"Don't mention it, Jew boy." The redhead kissed him once again, although this time it lasted a bit longer. He slipped his tongue into Cartman's mouth, access being granted immediately. Cartman's tongue danced across Kyle's palate, tasting the alcohol he had been drinking away his problems with earlier. He ignored it, knowing that that wasn't how Kyle really tasted. He assumed he tasted as good as he smelled, but that was something he'd have to find out in time, hopefully sooner rather than later. He broke free of the redhead's mouth with the intention of asking him a very important series of questions. "Kahl, stop."

"W-What? Why?" he stuttered. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just need to know a few things."

"Oh, okay."

"Are you only doing this as a way of forgetting about Dylan?" he asked. Honestly, he didn't even want to know. He wanted to stay in that position forever, but that wouldn't be fair on Kyle and it definitely wouldn't be fair on himself if it was something that wasn't going to last.

"Cartman, I'm not like that," he replied, looking directly into the other's deep brown eyes. "I'd never use you for my own gain. You know that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he grinned before frowning once again. "Kahl, how drunk are you on a scale of one to ten?"

"Honestly, like three. I think I got most of the alcohol out of my system in the bathroom. And it's been a couple of hours since we were at the bar. The water helped too."

"So you won't flip the fuck out in the morning when you see me spooning you?" he chuckled in good humour.

"How can you be so sure that you'll be spooning me in the morning, fatass?"

Cartman smirked, flipping the small male over onto his left side before pressing his body against him and wrapping his arms around his slender figure once again. "I'm pretty damn sure, Jew."

"Well in that case, no, I won't 'flip the fuck out'."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Yeah."

"Yup."

"Go to sleep, fatass."

"Shut up, Jew."

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the immaturity of the both of them. Some things never change.


A/N

There ye go! Some much needed Kyman. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!