Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters.

Evolution

By PopcornChicken66

Attending a party at Token's house had not been a part of the plans for four teens residing within South Park. However, once discovering that there would be alcohol and that they honestly had nothing better to do on that particular Saturday, it had been decided. The said party-thrower's parents were currently out of town and what better was a place to throw a high school bash than a mansion?

Stan Marsh was off with Wendy Testaburger, both of whom were most likely dancing dirtily among the mass of teenagers in the living room. Kenny McCormick was drinking himself to oblivion, surrounding himself with sexy girls grinding on him. That left Kyle Broflovski, who wasn't the typical party-goer, and Eric Cartman, who had no other urge than to play games with his nemesis.

"C'mon, Kahl."

"I said no."

"Kaaaaahl."

"Fucking no, fatass!"

"You know you want it… Kahl."

"I've already drunk enough, Cartman. I need to stay sober enough to drive Stan home if he needs me to. You know that, you fat shit. Now fuck off," Kyle sneered, searching avidly for somewhere else he could be. It was clearly futile.

"You're such a pussy, Kahl," Cartman slurred. His eyelids were half-closed, his cheeks lightly flushed. He was wasted, and they both knew it.

Cartman went to take another swig of his beer when he noticed that it was empty. "Fuck," he muttered. Then he looked at the boy before him, blinking several times to regain focus. "Let's go get s'more… drinks…" Then, as an after thought, "Kahl."

"You do not need any more drinks, retard."

"Kahl. Seriouslah."

Kyle sighed. "Look, I don't give a shit what you do, just leave me the fuck alone." He truthfully just wanted to go home, but Stan was his ride and he would feel guilty if he were to pry him away from his girlfriend. He just had to endure another two hours or so, and then Stan would take him back in time for his midnight curfew.

"Fine, dirty Jew."

Cartman attempted to stumble off, but knocked his hip into a table and nearly fell. Kyle watched with an amused apprehension, and the drunken boy bumped a girl, causing her to spill her drink on herself. He muttered something about a skank before tumbling over a chair and landing with a thud on the wooden floor.

Kyle laughed loudly at the pathetic display and approached his enemy where he lay. Cartman had struggled onto his elbows but his eyes were unfocused, and his body swayed.

"How drunk are you, fatass?" Kyle asked before debating whether or not to help him. He knew he wouldn't get anything in return, but the disoriented teen just looked so utterly and uncommonly helpless that his conscience decided for him. He bent over and gripped Cartman's thick arm, pulling hard to try and aid the large male in regaining his footing.

Generously, Kyle took it one step further by leading the bulky boy to a bedroom rather than just leave him to drink some more before passing out on the ground. He told himself he was doing it because he had nothing else better to do, and this way Cartman would leave him alone for good.

The first bedroom they arrived at was occupied, but the next was vacant, and Kyle unceremoniously let Cartman fall to the mattress with a creak as the heavy door swung shut behind them. Before he could leave the room, however, he was called to.

"Kahl, wait!"

"What do you want, Cartman?"

"Come here!"

"…No."

"Kaaaahl. Please?"

Despite knowing full well that it would end terribly, Kyle obeyed if only because the intoxicated boy couldn't possibly think straight enough to be pulling tricks.

"What."

Cartman motioned for him to come closer, and then dragged Kyle into bed next to him. Kyle grunted in surprise and blinked a couple times at the ceiling before anger bubbled in his chest.

"What the fuck was that for, asshole?"

"I don't feel good, Kahl."

"It's because you drank a shit ton of beer, dumbass. I'm leaving." Kyle sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, but Cartman gripped his forearm, holding him in place.

"Kahl, I don't wanna be alone!" he whined in such a childish manner that Kyle simply rolled his eyes and tried to tug his wrist from Cartman's unrelenting grip.

"Dude, let go of me!" Kyle exclaimed, glaring harshly down at the drunken boy. But Cartman just pulled him so that he was laying down next to him too close for comfort. Cartman then proceeded to roll so that he was straddling the smaller boy, wrists pinned above his head.

"Stay here, Kahl." His voice came out a tad more serious, and a bit lower pitched. Kyle struggled and squirmed, but had no such luck in escaping Cartman's stronghold.

"What the fuck do you want, fatass?"

"I want a lot of things. But you'll settle for now." Swooping in, the two's faces were just inches from each other's. Kyle stared wide-eyed and furious into Cartman' eyes, though the other's gaze kept dropping to his lips. Oh no, he'd better not-

He did. Cartman kissed Kyle. The latter was stunned still for a few moments before turning his head to the side and kicking his legs in a futile attempt to escape. His genes, however, had not graced him with a tall height and muscular build as Cartman's had. Cartman frowned at Kyle's resistance.

"Sick, dude! What the fuck was that?"

"Kahl…," Cartman muttered, drawing the recessive boy's gaze back to his own. Kyle flushed lightly, noticing for the first time how close their bodies were, and convinced himself that he was just angry.

Kyle had known he was gay for quite a long time; he just hadn't really crushed on any specific men. He couldn't deny that the predicament he was currently caught up in may have been pleasant with someone else, but it wasn't Cartman's gender or even his chubby build that had him resisting so ardently. No, it was his hatred for the boy, the hate for his personality, for all the things he had done to cause him pain. If Cartman was homo then Kyle had never noticed it, but even if this was true the only reason the cruel bastard could possibly be coming on to him would be because he was drunk. And hormonal.

"I know you're gay, Kahl. And you know you want me," Cartman drawled. He briefly released one of Kyle's wrists (an opportunity which he took advantage of by placing his hand on Cartman's chest to try and push him off) to knock his green ushanka off of his head, setting free his groomed but wild mass of red curls. "Come on, ginger."

Unexpectedly Cartman leaned in and planted another kiss on Kyle's lips. Not expecting it, Kyle opened his mouth to protest but was met with Cartman's tongue, stroking the roof of his mouth. Briefly Kyle forgot just who was kissing him, and he shyly accepted the tongue, caressing the insides of Cartman's mouth with his own and letting his eyes flutter shut. He tasted of alcohol.

Kyle's other wrist was released, and now both hands were clasped around Cartman's neck. Cartman was running his fingers through the red-head's hair, his other arm occupied with holding his weight up. It was only when they needed to breathe that they pulled away, and Kyle's eyes, half-lidded with lust, sparked with realization. He decided not to approach the matter with anger, since Cartman hadn't done anything too severe… yet.

"Why are you doing this?"

Cartman didn't seem to have an answer, although he did seem to have become slightly more sober, and he also appeared to be debating something, running his tongue over his own teeth. His eyes were locked on Kyle's array of spontaneous locks, making the boy in submission feel slightly self-conscious, if only because he had never particularly liked his hair, no thanks to the teen on top of him. Finally they met eyes again, and Cartman leaned down, kissing the boy's neck as he lifted his shirt. He pulled away to fit it over Kyle's head before returning to ravishing the neck below him, running his hand across the smooth fair skin of Kyle's chest.

Kyle shuddered, unsure of what to make of this. Staring at the ceiling, disbelief wound its way into his mind. This was Eric fucking Cartman lying astride him. They despised each other. Then again, emotions weren't needed for sex. Was that all that Cartman wanted? Fine and dandy, but attraction towards one another would affect their relationship in drastic ways that Kyle couldn't imagine. The dilemma was whether or not he should give in to Cartman's sexual desires, though Kyle could not believe it was even up for debate.

Undeniably, now that Kyle really thought about it, he may have felt a slight infatuation towards the other boy, if only on occasion. Sometimes, in the passion of their more brutal arguments, he felt a glint of… something. He had always brushed it off as just another wave of fury stabbing at his soul, fueling the rise of his voice, the flush of his face. Now, though, as he shared an intimate (in a sense) session with his enemy, Kyle Broflovski was wondering if those glints were related to the flips and cartwheels his stomach was performing presently.

Kyle couldn't help but feel as if he was over-analyzing everything. He had never been an impulsive or decisive person, and perhaps this was one of those times when going with the flow was the best option. He should have been repulsed by the idea of fucking his rival, but much to his dismay, he wasn't. In fact he felt enthralled. It was so erroneous, so unpredicted, so thrilling and unprompted. Foreign. He felt as if he were going against everything he'd ever stood for, letting himself be put into submission by an anti-Semitic, cruel, compassionless Nazi. But here was the thing; Kyle. Didn't. Fucking. Care.

Maybe he had a rebellious, sexual, horny-ass monkey buried deep inside him, and that was what made him lightly moan as Cartman tugged his lip with his teeth. Perhaps the small amount of alcohol he'd consumed had actually gotten to him; he was lightweight, after all, and diabetic. More likely, Kyle was just making excuses for his participation.

Cartman lowered significantly because of the implied effort of holding himself up, and Kyle trembled in ecstasy as he felt the growing hardness pressing into his stomach. Shifting his body so that their hips were level, the smaller male rolled his pelvis, and Cartman exhaled sharply onto Kyle's cheek. Why the fuck did this feel sorightwhen they both knew that it was wrong?

Biting at Cartman's neck and shoulder, Kyle continued his movements, enjoying the power he felt for affecting his rival in such a way. He was, however, feeling himself become increasingly harder the more his activities continued, and soon he was taking pleasure in it just as much as Cartman was. Before he knew what he was doing, his fingers were fumbling with the zipper of Cartman's pants, unfastening the button once the task was accomplished and trying fiercely to kick them down. The other boy aided him, and then the jeans on the Jew were being taken care of.

Both clad in boxer shorts, their grinding became more frantic before Cartman cut off the contact, opting instead to slip his hand down Kyle's waistband and watching with glee as his face contorted. A small groan vibrated from Kyle's throat, and Cartman moved faster and harder, tugging harshly in an attempt to piss the submissive other off. He didn't succeed until he quickly pulled away, seeing that Kyle was clearly about to come.

"We can't have that, Kahl. Not yet."

"Fuck you, bastard!" Kyle spat, intent on getting revenge. He plunged his hand below Cartman's underwear and smirked evilly when the larger male let out a girly yelp. Using the weakness to his advantage, he flipped them, wordlessly dubbing himself dominant. Cartman's boxers were ripped off, and Kyle continued his unrelenting stimulations, stopping when he knew the other was on the edge. There was a brief moment in which both of them relaxed, before Kyle moved down, riding up the shirt on Cartman's stomach, although the larger made no move to take it off. Disregarding this, the Jew halted as he found himself exposed to the manhood he'd been seeking.

"Cartman?"

Eric shifted. "…Yeah?"

"I will never,ever, suck your balls."

The forceful words rolled off of Cartman easily as a tongue darted out and tasted the head of his cock.

Finding himself face to face with the sack that Carman had so feverishly urged him to suck, Kyle was surprised he wasn't disgusted in the slightest or at least tempted to strike the two jewels in order to cause the fatass a fraction of the torture he'd put Kyle through. His previous comment was only spewed because he felt that it not only held his dignity, but also told Cartman that he was doing this by will and refused to be forced into a state of humiliation.

But, considering the response he was getting, Kyle had Cartman in the palm of his hand.

Moaning was released as the tongue lightly trailed the length of the penis, fingers were entwined into vibrant red curls, and hands were placed on hips to prevent bucking.

It was a hot, sweaty, breathless mess, that's what it was.

Cartman nearly came as Kyle slid his mouth onto the member, pumping what he couldn't get to as he swirled his tongue and bobbed his head. Holy shit, how was the little kike so good at this? He couldn't handle it much longer.

"Nngh…"

Cartman gasped at the sudden loss of contact as Kyle pulled away. That little asshole… If that was the way he wanted to play it, then fine. Hooking his hands under Kyle's armpits, he yanked the small, skinny boy up to eye level, staring harshly into those emerald orbs before flipping them, regaining his dominance.

"You asked for it, Jew."

Leaning over, Cartman searched through the nightstand, coming up with a bottle of body lotion. It wasn't lube, but it would work much better than saliva. He coated his fingers generously with the creamy substance and lowered them to Kyle's entrance after ridding him of his boxers. He didn't hesitate to thrust his middle digit inside.

Kyle groaned at the alien sensation. It hurt, and even as Cartman slowed his movements, the discomfort didn't escape him. A second finger was added and twisted, eliciting a grunt from the Jewish male. Gradually he was becoming accustomed to the actions, but it was still far from pleasurable. After the third finger, he could feel himself stretching and he gritted his teeth, digging his nails into Cartman's shoulder blades. After a few more minutes he was deemed ready, although he considered himself far from it, and Cartman withdrew. Kyle was surprised at the empty feeling seizing his body.

He watched, anxious, slightly afraid, and most surprisingly, a bit keyed up, as Cartman slicked his shaft with the lotion. Hazelnut eyes darted up to meet green ones, and the dominant male spoke as he positioned himself.

"Jesus, relax, Kahl."

Kyle hadn't noticed how tense his muscles had been, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, loosening his tight grip on Cartman's shoulders. It was now or never.

Cartman slowly guided himself inside of Kyle, ignoring the Jew's hisses of pain until he was at least halfway within. There he let Kyle adjust, an unusually considerate gesture on his part, though he was unable to prevent the gentle rocking of his hips.

"Fuck, Cartman, it hurts." Kyle was unable to prevent the slight whine in his voice, despite his fear that Cartman's sadistic tendencies would just propel him to be more vigorous.

"Suck it up, daywalker."

Cartman's vile but shakily unsteady insult was forgotten when he began to move again. After the pace picked up, it was still painful like a bitch, but Kyle began to adapt to the feeling.

When Cartman grabbed his member and began to pump, slightly compensating for the ache, Kyle's lower abdomen began to tighten, and his breathing hitched until he was practically panting. Sweat trickled down his neck, and his eyes were screwed shut, his face undoubtedly flushed. He moaned quietly, spared no time for shame as he inwardly noted how he was less enjoying the sensation and more how intimate it all was. Cartman's mouth fell open and his eyes rolled backwards slightly as he came inside of Kyle, but never ceasing his hand's movements, causing Kyle to come soon after. Cartman collapsed tiredly onto the spot next to Kyle.

It took several minutes for the two to calm their heartbeats and catch their breaths. Kyle refused to let what they had just done sink in. Cartman sat up and used the sheets to clean himself off. Kyle pulled a face, but couldn't stand how disgustingly dirty he felt, so he followed suit, and the fabric was abandoned on the carpet. He then sat up and scooped his boxers from the floor, pulling them up to his hips with flourish. He stood but was stopped by Cartman's words.

"Where do you think you're going, Jew?"

Kyle allowed himself to be tugged back to the mattress and flush against the larger male's chest. Enveloped in the rich material of the comforter and plush softness of the pillows, exhaustion began to weigh their bodies and minds. Before drifting into blackness, Kyle was aware of a strangely tender kiss on his lips, but had absolutely no time to comprehend it as sleep plagued his senses.

~{}~

"Broflovski. Get the fuck up."

Kyle gulped, his throat dry. He rolled over to face the voice, cracking his eyes open slowly as he yawned. He was met with Craig Tucker's indifferent face, unblinking as Kyle shot up in the bed, taking in his surroundings and ignoring his head rush.

"Craig?"

The previous night's events came flooding back to Kyle, and he groaned, letting his face fall into his hands. Eric Cartman was nowhere to be seen, his clothes also not present. There was no doubting that what they had done wasn't just a dream, for it was evident by the bruises and teeth marks littering Kyle's light skin, and the undeniable soreness in his rear.

"We're cleaning Token's house. His parents are coming home tonight. He sent me to tell everyone who slept here to go home." Craig's nasally, monotone voice brought Kyle back to reality, and he met the other male's calm, dark blue eyes.

"Alright, Craig. Thanks."

He stood, suppressing his wince as pain seared from his bottom, and pulled his pants on; thankful he had dressed himself in his boxers the night before. After he had tugged on his thermal long-sleeved shirt and trademark green ushanka, he was attempting to locate his shoes (which for the life of him he couldn't recall taking off the night before) when he noticed that Craig was still standing there. He braced himself for questions about who he'd laid last night, but only a casual remark escaped the raven-haired boy's lips before he took his leave.

"Your jacket's on the rack by the front door."

Kyle breathed a sigh of relief. He was so incredibly grateful that the one person in the entire town of South Park to wake him was the unconcerned Craig Tucker, who just didn't give a shit. For once, he was glad that the dude was such an asshole.

Finally discovering his sneakers, he happily slipped them on and made his leave, grabbing his coat on the way out and buttoning it up as he walked (a bit funny) through the frigid winter air of Colorado. Only then did he allow it to drift into his thoughts.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Eric fucking Cartman had just fucked him.

It had to be some sort of mind game. Cartman was manipulating him somehow. This was all a scheme. Perhaps Cartman would use it as blackmail to make Kyle do what he wanted him to. Oh, who was he kidding. That was exactly what the fatass planned to do.

But seriously? Kyle had never expected Cartman to take such drastic measures just to get him wrapped around his plump fucking finger. He was drunk, sure, but no amount of alcohol could cause either of them to even temporarily forget their everlasting hatred for one another. Kyle knew that Cartman was fucking insane. Feed-parents-to-their-child-in-chili kind of insane. But this? This was how far he was willing to go just to have control over Kyle? It was sick.

Kyle could not stop beating himself up over the fact that he had let Cartman do this to him. Not only had he allowed it to happen without considering the consequences, but he had… he had… enjoyed it. A shiver ran down his spine. Fuck. It should not have felt that good while the fat asshole was fucking him. Not at all. He mentally kicked himself over the slight flutter in his stomach when he thought about how Cartman had been inside of him…

This was just wrong.

Still, Kyle could not shake the utter terror that he'd be at Cartman's will if he threatened to tell his parents. He couldn't stand the thought of his father's disappointment, his mother's blatant disgust and rage. They could very well disown him… Did his parents love him enough to accept who he was? He had been too much of a coward to try and find out. Now he wished he had, because then Cartman would have no dirt on him.

Well… there was the entire student body…

If Stan found out, Kyle would be utterly mortified, but he was almost positive that his super best friend would accept him no matter what his sexual preferences were. More than likely he'd just be freaked out by the fact that him and Cartman had fucked. Kenny probably wouldn't mind in the slightest and, considering his knack for sensing sexual tension, wouldn't be too surprised. The rest of the school, however… would they taunt him?

There was just one thing that confused Kyle.

If Cartman had known he was gay, as he'd let slip the night before, why hadn't he mentioned it sooner and blackmailed him then? Why wait until his own sexuality was at risk of being severely questioned? If he had slept with another guy, didn't that make him gay too? Didn't that make Eric Cartman, an unyielding homophobe, a flaming faggot? Yeah he was drunk, but what kind of excuse was that when you had sex with your worst enemy?

Kyle's head was beginning to throb. This was ridiculous. He could just worry about confronting Cartman tomorrow, at school on Monday. For now, he had more pressing matters at hand, such as facing his mother. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he heaved a sigh at the 13 missed calls, 8 voice mails, and 22 unread text messages, all of which were from his mother, albeit one text from Stan inquiring his whereabouts.

He was not looking forward to today. Not in the slightest.

~{}~

Eric Cartman had fucked up.

It was irrefutable, and he had accepted that for once he'd done something wrong. Of course, he could fix it, and escape a situation that was potentially unbeneficial for himself.

However, Eric Cartman had indeed fucked up.

Okay. So he hadn't planned on fucking Kyle. At all. He was drunk, but notthat drunk. He'd only meant to throw him off by kissing him, not go all the way. He had wanted to manipulate Kyle into kissing him back willingly so that he could officially prove that the Jew was a fag, and use it against him.

How had it turned out like this?

For the first time in a long time, a fluke had occurred in Cartman's plan that he hadn't anticipated. How was he supposed to even guess that his attention would be brought to Kyle's thin, pink lips, his supple, soft skin, the sharp angles of his hips, that firm, tight ass…

Shit.

No. Cartman had no empathy. Period. This would not be emotional. So he fucked Kyle. Worse had happened. Easily this could be whisked under his reign, and that fucking kike would be in submission to him, once again, only under different terms.

After all, it was Kyle's fault for using his Jew magic on Cartman.

He hadn't been gentle with him out of thoughtfulness while they had sex, no. Kyle had to enjoy it, or his plot would fall apart. That's what he continued to tell himself as he fucked his rival. Who cares that it was one of the best things he'd ever felt in his life? It was done solely to trick Kyle. That was all. Of course he still hated the Jew.

…Right?

There's no room for self-doubt in Eric Cartman's mind.

Even if he fucked up.

~{}~

Kyle couldn't take it anymore. He was about to explode in anger. Keeping his temper under even minimal suppression proved to be unbelievably strenuous when it came to Cartman. Sitting there, eating casually, occasionally exchanging nonchalant conversation with Kenny and every so often with Stan as well… Kyle seethed. The fatass hadn't even made eye contact with him yet!

The feisty Jew finally snapped when Cartman finished eating and stood as if to leave. Slamming his hands flat on the table, Kyle shot up from his seat and shouted something he knew he'd regret.

"You can't just act like nothing happened, you fucking fat fuck!"

Their table, along with several others, stared astonished at Kyle's tense shoulders, red face, and gritted teeth. It was a bit uncommon for Eric Cartman to anger his enemy to this extent very often, but when Kyle's glare scanned the lunchroom, all gazes were averted.

"Kyle?" Stan's voice rattled emptily in Kyle's skull, the inquiry in his best friend's voice left unacknowledged as all thoughts targeted Cartman. When said fatass's eyes met his calmly, Kyle bit his lip, fighting to prevent his anger from ebbing. Good lord, what was wrong with him?

Cartman began to walk away, and Kyle's fury ignited once more briefly before his adversary cast a glance over his shoulder expectantly. Huffing, the frustrated male began to follow. They came to a stop outside the lunchroom at a corner within the empty hallway.

Kyle was suddenly at a loss for words, uncomfortable underneath the larger male's expectant stare. He shifted nervously once, and then again as Cartman loomed above him. His eyes wandered anywhere but his enemy's face. He became irritated as Cartman refused to be the first to say something, but when Kyle finally spoke, his words were soft and weak, not defiant and determined as he had intended them.

"Why did you fuck me…?"

"What was that, Jew?"

"I said…" A deep breath. "Why did you fuck me, asshole?"

"I dunno, Kahl. I was pretty trashed last night…" The words were innocent. That motherfucker.

"Don't use that excuse, you piece of shit! You took advantage of me!"

"Hm… As my memory recalls, though it's a bit fuzzy, you were quite willing, Kahl. 'Oh, Cartman, give me more!'"

"I never said that, bastard!" Kyle shoved Cartman, but he barely budged, clearly expecting it.

"What are you getting to, Jew rat?"

"Don't fucking call me that!" Kyle's gaze dropped to the floor. His shoes were mere inches from Cartman's, thus striking realization of how close they were standing. Not daring to look up, he struggled to not allow his fear to coat his next words. "What are you going to do?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

Kyle's fierce glower shot upwards, then plummeted again as his face burned. "Stop playing games, fucker! You'd better not tell anyone or I'll…"

"You'll what, Kyle."

Once again, Kyle's gaze rose abruptly to meet the other's, but only from due to pure shock at the correct pronunciation of his name passing through Cartman's lips. He was not even aware that the larger male was capable of speaking certain words accurately. Cartman's voice murmuring his name tumbled inside of his brain, and he gulped, face reddening for the umpteenth time.

"I hate you so much."

"That's not what you were saying in bed last night."

Suddenly not in the mood to deal with the fatass, Kyle spun on his heel to walk away, but was stopped as his forearm was gripped. He was tugged backwards into the wall and before he knew what had happened, Cartman's face was hovering above his, arms on either side of his head.

"I know I made you feel good, Kahl."

Kyle closed his eyes. This couldn't be happening.

"I also know that I was your first."

The thought had never occurred to him. Cartman had taken his virginity. No, he had given Cartman his virginity. And… did he really regret it as much as he let on?

"You want to do it again, don't you Kahl?"

"Stop."

"Are you afraid of the truth?"

"Just… Just stop, okay?"

"Stop what? Kahl, I know-"

Kyle cut Cartman off with his mouth. It took a moment, but the bastard responded by parting his lips, beginning a battle between tongues for dominance. Kyle draped his arms around the larger male's neck and embedded his fingers into the soft, thick strands beneath that stupid cerulean-colored hat that should have been ditched years ago. Large arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, flush against the admitted familiarity of Cartman's chest. The large male was hard already, and Kyle was progressively following suit.

Cartman had fucked Kyle, yes. And he would fuck him again and again and again in the days, weeks, and months following. Kyle allowed him to only because it felt good, or so he kept telling himself.

What he didn't expect, however, was the anger at his enemy for having sex with him to cease. Being mad at Cartman for fucking him while he was willing didn't necessarily make sense, but without the anger, what was there to cling to? Certainly not the escalating stir in his stomach and increase in heartbeat that he refused to acknowledge when it came to the fatass. Kyle didn't want to have feelings for him… Even the thought made him shudder.

But it was undeniable, the way that whenever they weren't having sex Kyle just wanted to curl up into his 'enemy' and kiss him and be held by him. It was nearly inexplicable why after a few sex sessions he moaned Cartman's first name in climax, the word having bitten at the edges of his mind, shooting tingles up his spine. Cartman's reaction was strange. Kyle could have sworn his face turned red and he became awkward for the rest of the night, his back to Kyle instead of snuggling up to him like they usually did in bed after fucking.

Kyle didn't know how much longer it would take for admittance to rise within the both of them, but considering their activities in between…

He wouldn't mind waiting.

~fin

A/N: This is my first slash lemon, so let me know what you think! I know it's a typical plot that's seen all over Fanfiction, but I just wanted to add my own twist. Hopefully there was some originality within the story. I wasn't trying to rush the ending or even get it over with, I just didn't want to drag it out and deter it to be elongated into blathering, unnecessary romance, if you get what I'm saying. I've been a Kyman shipper for quite a while now, and I decided that it was about time to write some fics about the pairing. I have a couple more, shorter one-shots but am still debating whether or not to upload them, so stay tuned! Thanks for reading!