A.N. Greetings, I come bearing gifts of Kyman. AS I promised, this fanfic is based on the events of the incredible blog 'Ask The Main Four' on Tumblr, run by the ingenious Yummykyman. Special thanks to her for supplying me with the information I needed to ensure that this piece is completely canonical in her universe. This is based around two of her art posts for the blog, so if you haven't already I would totally check them out.

This is their first sexual encounter, and therefore is not exactly 'safe for work'. I hope I did her fabulous work justice, and that you all enjoy reading.

His hand ghosts idly across the silhouette of his sleeping familiar, trying to lose himself in the soft sheen of Abraham's fur.

Weary from sleep deprivation and more than slightly frustrated at his super-best-friend, Kyle Broflovski rubs at his fatigued eyes – eyes which will no doubt be lined with the dark shadow of sleeplessness tomorrow, following the fourth consecutive day of extremely limited sleep.

He'd tried to comfort himself in the fact that at least he wasn't alone in this ordeal, but once his canine companion had buckled under the weight of exhaustion and given way to slumber he remained painfully conscious. He'd never much of an insomniac, nor a light sleeper… but recent events didn't exactly play in his favour. He knew exactly the kind of thing he'd usually do to soothe himself at this time, but under the circumstances such an action would feel so incredibly wrong.

"Fuck me!" a muffled voice wails, the female's moans dampened by the meagre walls between them. "Oh Stan~!"

The persistent creaking of the bedframe seems to only accelerate, despite the fact they'd been going at it for what seemed like hours. Surely they knew he could hear them?

In his younger days, it had seemed like the perfect placement – just across from his closest friend, separated my mere glass. They would waste hours sat at their windows, writing notes to one another until the early hours of the morning. They'd wave goodnight to one another, and after one of Stan's many breakups with Wendy he'd been so close that it was easy to comfort him even from the confines of his own bedroom.

However, now the situation seemed far from ideal. He was aware that Stan was eighteen and still firmly in the throes of the 'honeymoon phase' with Patty, but it would be so much easier if they weren't so… vocal about the whole affair.

They seemed so infatuated with each other, so comfortable… it was honestly rather infuriating. Sure, his romantic endeavours were fresh and new, thrilling him more than anything else – but uncertainty still lingered in the back of his thoughts. A minuscule, nagging but very real part of him that made him question. After their history, it was to be expected, right? He hadn't believed him at first, but seeing this side of him? It made him feel as if he was slowly drowning more and more.

Thoughts of Eric Cartman swirl around in his head, preoccupying yet still not quite enough to quell the passionate vocalizations from the house beside his own.

"Deeper." she keens, the words echoing within the walls. God damn it.

Exhausted, he digs under his pillow to retrieve his phone. Once he retrieves the device, he turns it on – bright light from the screen illuminating his room and causing him to squint his eyes against the sudden glare – as he opens his messages. Naturally, his conversation with Eric was the most recent so fortunately right at the top of the list.

'Do you hear this shit?' He sends, briefly pondering over whether he should bother waiting for a response. He thumbs idly at the volume control, figuring he might as well – Eric is certainly the type to be doing god knows what at 1AM anyway.

A minute later, he gets his response in the form of two rapid-fire texts.

'what' One queries, soon followed by more clarification. 'u didnt send anything.'

Rolling his eyes at the typically atrocious grammar, he taps in another message to further explain himself. Surely if he could hear it he would know exactly what the intended meaning was.

'No! Do you seriously not hear that outside?' Kyle asks, jealous that he had managed to escape this awkward situation.

'hear what' Questions Eric, and suddenly a wonderful idea dawns in Kyle's head.

"Well, Kyle?" Eric begins, propping himself up on his elbow as he turns to face Kyle, eager to burn the image of Kyle sat in his bed onto his retinas. "Do you hear anything?"

"Nothing… Jesus, you were right." Kyle sighs in relief, slightly on edge due to the unusual situation. Sure, he'd been in Cartman's room plenty of times before, but sleeping in his bed now that they were… whatever this is that they were, has him feeling a little nervous. "Thank god. You would not believe how loud they are... But are you sure this is okay? You're not gonna shove me off the bed like you did to Kenny?"

A coy smirk stretches across Eric's rounded face, and Kyle would sooner stab himself in the eyes than admit how insanely adorable he looked at that moment, all self-satisfied and smug.

"Didn't you see the picture? All you have to do is sleep really close to me." He teases, eyes dancing with mischief as his voice drops to a more flirtatious tone that causes a light blush to dust Kyle's cheeks.

"Wow. That's convenient." the redhead deadpans, trying desperately to keep his cool as Eric's arm snakes across his lap to rest his hand upon his hip. His body heat radiates across the space between them as Eric moves closer, and the feel of his lips against his ear causes Kyle to shiver involuntarily.

"C'mon Kyle, you know you can't even act like you don't like cuddling anymore." husks the larger boy, hot breath leaving traces of moisture on the pale skin of Kyle's jaw.

"Pfft. I should've known you'd use that one hug against me." Kyle murmurs, voice trembling slightly with anticipation. Having Eric this close was doing dangerous things to his body, things even he didn't want to admit… and trying to stay level-headed was getting increasingly difficult.

"Yeah. You really should know better, Kyle~." Eric hums, voice low and dripping with sex appeal. He's using the voice, and Kyle has to grit his teeth to try and retain his control.

" …You're talking like that again."

"Talking like what?" Grins the brunette, loving teasing the smaller boy as he retains his deep silky baritone.

"That. That fucking voice you do." Kyle groans, feeling his sanity begin to fray and the edges. "Just talking like that and then doing nothing."

"Oh, did you want me to do something?" He taunts, teeth briefly scraping at Kyle's earlobe.

God, do I ever… Kyle muses, staying mute in a last ditch attempt to restrain himself. I…

"What do you want, Kyle?" Cartman growls seductively, voice like melted chocolate and honey yet a hundred times as sinful and indulgent.

That one last straw, those few words rarely spoken outside of his fantasies, and Kyle was gone. In a frenzied state of desperation he launches himself on the stocky brunette, sending them both crashing to the mattress. Their mouths collide roughly, battling in a frantic dance before Kyle's tongue slides across Eric's plush lips, seeking entry. Caught up in the heat of it all and cherishing each second, he responds eagerly, a surprised grunt in the back of his throat as their tongues intertwine. Ravenous, the kiss deepens as Kyle digs his fingers deep within those sweet chestnut locks, wet muscle caressing his own in a delicious meeting of mouths.

They kiss for long moments, drowning in their passion until they have no choice but to come up for air. They part, both of their cheeks stained rouge as they pant into the slither of space between them, foreheads pressed sweetly together as they catch their breath.

"I'm not playing your game right now." Kyle breathes, voice thick with unspoken emotion and palpable need. Eric swallows before responding, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"… Jesus.. your tongue…"

"… I- I just wanted to know how it felt."

A smile slowly forms on his face, lips tugging upward in a legitimate and incredibly rare show of honest, unadulterated happiness.

"Fuckin' awesome."

"Yeah… it did, didn't it…?" Kyle muses, pleased he wasn't the only one that had felt it – the fireworks behind closed eyes, the electric buzz from his toes to his fingertips.

"Yeah…"Cartman sighs, the word spoken more as a moan than an affirmation. He shifts his weight, hips coming up to meet Kyle's leg.

A choked off sound is caught in Kyle's throat at the movement, the evidence of just how much Eric had felt it pressed firmly against his thigh. The feel of his arousal pressed against the redheads thigh makes him gasp breathily, feeling as if he could easily burst tout of his own trousers right there and then. His eyes widen at the slight friction, and he can't help but curse the pesky fabric between them – wishing to feel the skin bare against his own.

Driven by his own arousal and a growing self-confidence (or perhaps an illusion of such spurred on by his own desperation), Kyle moves his hips so they rest above his partner's thicker ones. He aligns their straining erections, feeling a slight sense of accomplishment as Eric seems momentarily baffled, eyes widening in surprise at Kyle's boldness.

His expression quickly shifts as Kyle rolls his hips, grinding his cock against Eric's. Even through the myriad layers of pesky fabric the friction is heavenly, causing the smaller boy to shudder at the sudden pleasure. Sucked in to the same heat, the brunettes cheeks darken as his eyes become half lidded with want and dizzying pleasure. Hand falling to Kyle's hipbone, they move their hips in a beautiful synchronisation. Their lips interlock, tongues viciously vying for dominance as choked off grunts are lost in the depth's of the other's mouth.

They part for breath once they can no longer continue devouring the other, friction becoming sweeter by the second as their cocks become harder and more sensitive, bodies picking up speed as they get caught up instinctively in the need to enjoy as much of the other as possible. Enraptured in bliss and undoubtedly inexperienced in sexual matters, the redhead struggles to contain himself, letting out a low moan.

"A-ah..." Kyle groans, arms trembling as he supports himself, the pleasure and heat of it all threatening to melt his bones. He flushes brightly, red tingeing the tips of his ears as he grinds down harder, feeling the pleasure accelerate as he approaches his climax. Foreheads sweaty, lips sweat-slicked, the kiss takes on a rather slick, lewd feel – the salty complexion of their partner's flesh giving the delicious taste of their kisses a slightly more exotic tinge.

For Eric, this is something else. Sex was something for convenience, pleasure had been a by-product of his online exploits. It was so impersonal, so degrading and filthy that it seemed like no amount of showering could wash it away; yet this pleasure, this little bit of heaven? Being with Kyle is perfection, a breath of fresh air after an eternity trapped below ground. Regardless of the undoubtable eroticism of the situation, it seems so wholesome, so pure, as if it's rebuilding him from the ground up. Before, he could kill himself with pleasure yet it wouldn't mean a thing - but even this meagre contact drives him mad. It was Kyle, his Kyle. He'd never wanted anything as much as he'd wanted Kyle, and this all seemed almost too good to be true. It wouldn't be the first dream of this nature he'd had, but the sensation of Kyle's hot breath on his face, those adorable little moans and groans… they are so much more than the typical lucid night-time fantasy. This is no hallucination, this is undoubtedly real – and it has Eric nearing the brink at a much faster speed than ever before.

Naturally, with lesser experience Kyle hits his orgasm first. The combination of rough, needy grinding and scalding kisses being too much for him to handle. He lets out a keening moan, coming harder than he'd ever even imagined was possible. He pants desperately afterwards, trying to come back down to Earth.

After witnessing the throwing back of his head, the twitching muscles, the parted lips… feeling the heavy throb of Kyle's cock even through their trousers…. It was too much for Eric. He was gone, that captivating expression of Kyle's as he'd hit his orgasm burned onto the back of his retinas, boxers filling with hot, sticky fluid.

Exhausted, Kyle's arms give way as he flops down onto the plush body bellow him. His breathing retains its accelerated pace, and he buries his head into Eric's shoulder as he tries to calm himself.

"I made a mess..." Kyle groans, shifting uncomfortably as he feels the cooling come slide down the inside of his thigh.

"Really? Where? I don't see a mess." Questions Eric, teasing grin shot down by the emerald glower of his partner. "...Fine. I'll sort something."

He hauls himself from the bed, rummaging through the drawers of his dresser. He gets put a set of his own pyjamas before searching for apparel from his younger and admittedly smaller days.

He eventually retrieves an old navy blue shirt – faded a little from use – from the back of a drawer. He launches it toward Kyle, watching to make sure he manages to catch it before diverting his gaze, pretty certain Kyle wasn't ready for them to be to be fully undressing in front of one another yet.

"Thanks..." Kyle replies, feeling more timid now as the afterglow began to disperse. He pulls the fabric over his head, the familiar scent of Eric's fabric softener causing him to melt regardless of his better judgement. It might seem unremarkable to most, but the undeniable aroma of Cartman is positively delectable to him.

Once he deems himself decent, he rests back against the pillows – sinking into the mattress, feeling more relaxed than he'd been in months. He feels the bed shift below him as Eric settles beside him, drawing Kyle into his chest and cradling the smaller body with his own. Soothed by the sweet gesture, Kyle hums in pleasure as Eric draws the duvet over their bodies, soon drifting into a deep sleep.