Kyle was none too pleased to be awoken at around half two in the morning by a loud, clanging thud and a strangled cry outside of his window. He bolted up out of his bed, rushed to the window, hurriedly slid it open, and leant out of it to see whether there was a hippopotamus attacking his house, or an elephant. What he saw was neither, but may as well have been for how big and blundering he was.

"Cartman!" Kyle hissed, his voice slicing through the night. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

Cartman, a heap of pain laid out under a fallen gutter pipe – his house's fucking gutter pipe – only blinked up at Kyle, as though baffled by all that had happened. Disorientation was normal after a long fall, which it looked like Cartman had had, but Kyle scoffed, because it was stupid of the fatass to have thought that said fat ass wouldn't drag a thin, plastic pipe down.

"I was trying to climb up to your window," Cartman managed finally. With something that sounded to be between a grunt of exertion and a moan of pain, he pushed the pipe off of himself to thud onto the grass beside him. "Didn't go to plan."

"Yeah, no shit," Kyle huffed, shaking his head at what he had to put up with. "You okay?"

"Everything hurts," Cartman whined.

"Wait there," Kyle chuckled, the sadist in him seeing the funny side of Cartman's pain. "I'll be right down."

He went from his window, across his room, to the hallway outside. He quickly snuck to his parents' room first, and thought it miraculous that they hadn't even stirred (not to mention worrying – he hoped that they never got burgled if that was his parents' response to noises in the night). Neither had Ike, so the coast was clear to tip-toe downstairs and creep to the kitchen, where he unlocked the sliding glass doors and stepped out. The cool grass against his bare feet and the chilly breeze whipping his bare legs in his boxers made him shiver, but he braved it all to make his way to Cartman, who looked the definition of defeat laid out in his backyard.

"You broken anything else besides my house?" he asked as he got down on his knees beside him.

Cartman was casually star-gazing whilst laid out on his back, as though he hadn't just fallen from a whole storey of a house, but turned his head to look at Kyle when he spoke. There were many emotions on his face – ones he was too pained to bother masking – like hurt, embarrassment, and annoyance.

"Your house is fine, douchebag. I'm not."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours."

"Oh?" Kyle just had to hear how he was to blame that time. It would be rich.

"You moved your ladder."

"Yeah. My dad put it behind the tree."

"And you didn't think to put it back behind your house? Where I could find it?"

"I was kind of hoping you'd grown out of climbing into my room. It's not romantic, it's invasive. What if I'm jacking off one day when you do that?"

"Then lucky me," Cartman grinned. Kyle frowned and flicked him in the face. "Ay!" Cartman cried, turning his head away. "Quit it! Don't you think I'm in enough pain?" As he normally did, Kyle ignored him.

"I'm serious. One day you're going to end up climbing in when my parents or the guys are in the room. It'll be weird."

"You're weird."

"Let's not start this," Kyle sighed. "Just tell me whether your back's broken or not."

"Not."

"Okay, good. Can you get up?"

"No, it hurts."

"Well then. I suppose we'll just have to lay here and stargaze all night while we talk about our feelings."

"Ugh," Cartman grimaced. "Gross."

"Are you gonna get up then?"

"I don't know. Are you gonna help me up?"

"Whatever," Kyle sighed. "I guess I've got to." He leant forward, grabbed Cartman by the shoulders and began to pull him up, whilst Cartman held onto his arms, hissing and grunting as he was brought into a sitting-up position. "You alright so far?" Kyle asked when Cartman's torso was vertical.

"I think so," he replied, wincing. "Just don't expect Cartman to do a cartwheel anytime soon."

"Okay, let's get you up then," Kyle said, standing up himself, his hands sliding from Cartman's shoulders to his forearms. "And then we'll get you inside and check out how much you've fucked yourself over."

"Sounds delightful."

"I'm pulling you up on three. One. Two. Three!"

Kyle put his back into it, heaving Cartman up by his forearms as best as he could. Cartman collaborated with the effort, pushing himself forward and straining to get up. It was an arduous task that had the both of them grunting and groaning enough to wake the whole neighbourhood. As a matter of fact, it was lucky that they didn't do just that. It was lucky that when they finally had Cartman back on his feet, their neighbours were still slumbering soundly, unaware of the comical couple.

"Fuck," Cartman gasped once he was up, slumping his weight atop Kyle.

"Fuck!" Kyle wheezed, bowing backwards under it. "God damn, you're fat!"

"Ay!" Cartman cried. "Shut your damned mouth, Je-!" Kyle slapped his hand over Cartman's mouth and shushed him urgently.

"You shut your damn mouth, asshole! Do you want to wake up the whole neighbourhood?!" He pulled his hand away from Cartman's mouth, and though the brunet was frowning, at least he wasn't voicing his displeasure. "Now come on," Kyle said, securing Cartman's arm around his neck and taking a step towards the house. "Get your stupid, fat ass inside. Jesus Christ, the stuff I put up with…"

With Kyle's help, Cartman managed to make it into the Broflovski household, where he was taken to the living room and deposited onto the couch. He groaned gratefully as he sank back into the soft cushions, but Kyle huffed and slapped his arm lightly.

"Lean forward. I need to look at your back."

Cartman groaned again, irately that time, but he did as he was told all the same. Kyle walked around to stand behind the couch, and leant over the back of it to reach the bottom of Cartman's t-shirt and roll the back of it upwards. He hissed sympathetically through his teeth when he saw that his back was black and blue. Cartman tried to peer at it from over his shoulder.

"Does it look bad?"

"Yes," Kyle replied. Being that he was diabetic, he was never one for sugar-coating. "You are seriously the dumbest piece of shit I've ever met, Cartman, I swear."

"Yeah, yeah," Cartman rasped dismissively. "Whatever, I've heard it all before. Can you just go get me some ice or somethin' already? It's aching like a bitch."

"Fine," Kyle huffed, leaving towards the kitchen. "But I shouldn't help you at all. At least that way you'd learn your lesson."

"No I wouldn't."

For once, Kyle agreed with him, so he just sighed and went to get a bag of peas from the freezer. When he brought it back, he instructed Cartman to take off his t-shirt and lie on his stomach on the couch, so that he could wrap the bag in the t-shirt and lay it across his back. Cartman made a series of surprised, pained gasps when the freezing thing was placed upon him, which descended into quiet, continuous groans. The pathetic sight of him made Kyle unable to resist stooping down beside the couch so as to stroke his hair.

"That better?" he asked, and chided himself when he noticed that his voice had softened.

Cartman paused, then nodded. "Kinda. The ice's stinging is taking my mind off my back's aching."

"The ice'll numb it soon," Kyle said, far too consolingly.

Silence reigned after that – except for the occasional discomforted noise from Cartman – in which Kyle began to feel an ache too, in his legs, as he stayed stooped down beside Cartman for too long. He shifted his weight so that most of it was leant against the side of the couch, and exhaled a sigh of sorts through his nose, tired and frustrated, and cursed the moment he had fallen for the lump of stupidity laid out across his couch.

As the minutes ticked on, Kyle found his eyes drooping and felt himself going dozy. There was just something so comfortable about resting beside Cartman, stroking his hair and listening to him breathing. Kyle shook his head of the sleepiness, not wanting to fall asleep there and have his family find him and Cartman like that come morning. He looked to Cartman, to find that his eyes were closed and he was breathing softer.

"Cartman?" he whispered.

"Hmm?" Cartman hummed, obviously not asleep after all – not entirely, anyway. Since that was the case, Kyle thought that they might as well talk.

"Why did you come see me?"

"My mom," Eric groaned. "She's got a couple o' fuckbuddies round right now. They're loud."

"Oh." Kyle looked down at his lap sheepishly. He knew that Cartman wasn't fond of his mom's promiscuity, or talking about it. "Sorry."

"Whatever. Don't apologise. I'm used to it now. I just need to get away sometimes."

"Well you can always come here," Kyle offered, patting Cartman's head in a way that he hoped would be comforting, but just came out awkward. "Just use the door next time."

"The door's less dramatic though."

"The door is also less painful."

"Fair point."

"Were the dramatics even worth it?"

"No. Now you're gonna think I'm not cool."

Kyle gave Cartman a single, slow, unimpressed blink. "I never thought you were cool."

"Yes you did."

"No. I really didn't."

"It's okay, Kyle. I know you did."

Kyle sighed, "Whatever, Cartman."

"And your parents are gonna hate me."

Kyle raised a brow. "What for?"

"The pipe."

"I'm not gonna tell them you did that. I'm gonna play dumb and say it must've been weather-worn or something."

"'Kay, good. And put the ladder back behind your house."

"No. Stop climbing into my room at night."

Cartman whined in that petulant way which made Kyle want to hit him, but Kyle wasn't wavering. The window-climbing had to stop. Cartman wasn't Romeo, and Kyle sure as hell wasn't Juliet. What he was, was satisfied that Cartman's pain seemed to have eased, so he got up and went to get a blanket from the airing cupboard upstairs. He draped it over Cartman's couch-ridden form upon his return.

"Need anything?" he asked as he tucked the blanket around his neck and pulled it down over his legs. Cartman shook his head, but Kyle continued to ask anyway, just to be sure. "More ice? A glass of water? Some food?"

"No."

"Okay then," Kyle nodded, standing upright after patting down Cartman's blanket. "I'll come get you up later, before my parents or brother wake up. Go to sleep, okay? I don't want to hear you banging about doing stupid shit in the night. I've had enough of that."

"Where are you going?" Cartman asked, a slight hint of unease in his voice.

"Upstairs," Kyle replied, "to my room."

"No," Cartman whined, reaching his hand out from under the blanket to grab onto the hem of Kyle's t-shirt. "Stay here."

"There's no room for me to stay here, your fat ass is taking up the whole couch." Kyle pulled Cartman's hand off of him, laid it to rest back on the couch, and pulled the blanket back over it. "You brought this upon yourself so deal with it."

Cartman whined again, but it stirred no sympathy in Kyle. He refused to give in to his boyfriend's whims, and instead just leant down to kiss Cartman goodnight on his head before he went back to his room. He set his alarm for six in the morning, settled into his bed which had unfortunately lost some warmth, and fell back to sleep in next to no time, tired from the night's events.

A few hours later, just as the dawn was peeking over the distant mountains of their town, the alarm woke Kyle. He shut it off with a groan, got up with a whine, and went downstairs to wake Cartman from his slumber, muttering curses all the way. Cartman hadn't moved from the couch, although he had obviously tossed and turned a bit as his blanket was all rumpled. His hair was messy too, and he was even drooling a little bit. He wasn't exactly Sleeping Beauty, yet Kyle felt a fondness stir in his chest just looking at him.

"Cartman," he whispered as he leant down to shake his shoulder lightly. "Cartman, wake up."

"Hnn?" Cartman groaned, not even opening his eyes. "What's for breakfast?"

"My foot in your mouth. Come on, get up." Kyle dragged the blanket off of Cartman and shook him some more. In time, Cartman gradually started to rise. Kyle stepped back whilst Cartman pushed himself up off of his front and twisted at his waist to throw his legs over the side of the couch. "Good boy," Kyle praised, watching as Cartman brought his hands up over his head, arched his spine, and winced as he stretched.

"Back still hurts," he complained.

"It would, dumbass," Kyle said. "You fell pretty far. Go home, go to bed, and lie on your stomach. If it still hurts tomorrow then go see a doctor."

"Mm…'Kay…" Cartman murmured as he slumped forward, before yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Kyle might have taken a moment to appreciate the adorableness of that, were he not so rushed to get Cartman out of his house before any of his family could realise that he was there.

"Come on. Up," Kyle commanded, pulling on Cartman's arm. That worked, since Cartman was soon standing up, although unsteadily, swaying slightly. Kyle picked up Cartman's t-shirt from where it was hiding behind the cushions at the back of the couch, shook the bag of peas out of it, and eased it into Cartman's limp hand. "Here, remember to put this in the wash when you get home."

"Mm…'Kay…"

"Okay, good. Come on, let's get you out of here." Kyle started pulling on Cartman's arm again, guiding him towards the front door. Upon reaching it though, Cartman stopped and wouldn't allow himself to be led any further.

"Wait," he said. He sounded urgent, for a half-asleep person, so Kyle looked back to him and listened. There wasn't much to listen to though – Cartman just pawed at him as he asked, "G'bye kiss?"

Kyle sighed. The things he had to do. "Yeah, okay." He turned to Cartman and got up on his tip-toes, so that Cartman could plant a sleepy kiss upon his lips. When he pulled away though and returned to standing on the flats of his feet, Cartman, with his eyes closed, still somewhat half-asleep, leant down and pulled him back in by arms around his waist.

"'Nother."

"What?"

"'Nother one. Kiss."

"Oh, alright," Kyle complied, leaning in to kiss him again. "There," he said after pulling away. "Happy?"

Cartman shook his head. "One more."

Sighing, but failing to resist a small smile all the same, Kyle kissed Cartman once more, for a longer time than the two previous, and before pulling away he made sure to pepper three quick, extra kisses to his lips to ensure pacification. Alas, Cartman was not someone who was easily satisfied.

"One more," he murmured, leaning in for another.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Kyle half-groaned, half-laughed, as he pushed Cartman's face away from his. "That's enough! I mean it now. Out." He stepped away from Cartman to go open the front door and bare the outside world to Cartman. He didn't seem to appreciate it, since he winced at the faint sunlight that streamed through, but he shuffled out anyway. "You can get yourself home, right?" Kyle asked worriedly. It seemed a stupid question, since their houses were but a stone's throw apart, but Cartman looked so out of it that Kyle wasn't sure.

"…Yeah," Cartman said after a pause.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. See you later, Cartman."

"See you," Cartman said, beginning to toddle away.

"Don't kill any more innocent gutter pipes," Kyle called after him.

Cartman snorted a laugh as he continued to stumble to his house a couple of doors down, with his t-shirt dangling loosely in his grasp. Kyle stayed stood in the doorway for a while, worriedly watching after Cartman. But when he was satisfied that he would make it home without getting involved in or being the cause of a tragic accident, he shut the door on him.

For what wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last, Kyle thought that he should have been a saint, what with all the shit he patiently put up with. He sighed, shook his head, massaged his temples, and put the bag of peas and the blanket away before he went back to bed. He wasn't in it for very long though, before his phone on his bedside table chimed with a new text.

Fatass

6:12AM

luv u

Despite himself, Kyle smiled at those two small words on the glowing screen as he read them several times over under the safety of his covers. He didn't grace the text with a response, but he did fall back to sleep holding the phone close in hand, and thinking that sometimes, some shit was worth it.

Author's Notes:

*Unsure shrug* I really don't know this is, or what I was trying to achieve. I just wanted Cartman to be a loser, and falling whilst trying to climb Kyle's gutter pipe seemed the way to go about it. Exasperated Kyle looking after Fuck-Up Eric is totally my aesthetic. Oh, and sappiness too. I'm a sap for sappiness.
Thank you for reading this, and I hope you liked doing so as much as I liked writing it.

Disclaimer: South Park does not belong to me, but to its creators, Trey Parker and Matt Stone.